#alright then back to your turtle paced work speed
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LISTEN TO ME
I WOULD TEAR THE HOUSES DOWN RATHER THAN LET SOME FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT LIVE IN A SINGLE ONE OF MY LOTS
It's all one lot the way I see it.
#studying Caylatics today#it was quite lovely I enjoyed it#and even the audience was enjoying it#with grandpa it's just like well go ahead and say something#alright then back to your turtle paced work speed#btw#miss pro#I expect Long Big fucking hits from you on the hard stuff#I don't habe to say a word if you look over you will only see the shadows of my eyes#again though 5 I would give to the old man#abso fucking lutely#That is how you put Arthur at the back of the property#like he doesn't need to be doing that#and send a woman over there#shouldn't be hard to pick one up in that town when you live across the street from the bar yanno
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Beyond the Bay Chapter 18, Flooded Tunnels
Tags: @brightlotusmoon @ilo-artistry @selfindulgenz
Summary: The brothers encounter a dead end— and a near-dead rat
Content warning: medical treatment, swears
Eight sets of feet sloshed through the cesspools, the red and blue leaders heading their designated team. Leaders in the front, Raphael and Leo, and navigators, the Donatello’s, right behind them. Donatello and Donnie, with their quickness of mind and hand, had created in less than ten minutes a device they said could track the most minuet of electric life pulses; at first, there had been the plan to use Donatello’s mutant tracker, but it had quickly proven to not be effective at tracking in such a mutagen-tainted sewer. Donnie was the designated holder of the new device, while Donatello had his goggles flicked down over his eyes scanning and searching the tunnels for any abnormality. Directly behind them wereMikey and Leonardo, and at the back of the group were Raph and Michelangelo, watching the flank.
Leo kept finding himself looking just to make sure Mikey was keeping up; that was why Raph was there at the back, making sure Mikey didn't fall behind, but the anxiety tickling at Leo’s chest refused to let him just accept that. He was still seething bitterly at being outvoted with the vote of Donatello, and more than anything he wanted to order Mikey to go home where he was safe, but he didn't. He had made a promise and he intended to keep it. The vote had spoken, even if it had spoken against him. He had to ignore the sick, clawing feeling in his gut that told him to go back on his word. Not this time. No more dictatorship…
“You know.” Leonardo’s vice was a saving grace from Leo’s darkening thoughts, “Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to go after a giant dinosaur head-on without, I don’t know, a tank?”
“We have a tank!” Raphael declared with a proud pat to his chest, “Besides, if he’s got their dad, then we don’t got the time to spare.”
“But we have a… literal tank also.” Donatello pointed out, immediately talked over by Leonardo.
“If, that’s a big if.” Leonardo scoffed, “I’m not saying we don’t need to find their dad, but I am saying we need a plan.”
Leo found himself agreeing with Leonardo. His dad was strong, but that didn't mean he couldn’t get hurt, especially when he was alone. He’d been gone at least a few hours, and a lot could happen in a few hours…
“I can’t help but agree with Leo.” Leo admitted, “At the very least some of us could have stayed behind to watch your father, or went searching for Honeycutt.”
“April’s at home.” Raphael commented with a shrug, “This is an all hands on deck situation.”
Leonardo gave a long sigh and shook his head. “Listen, Raph, I love April and everything, but she’s not exactly… mutant.”
Raphael paused, and there was a few seconds of processing before he turned to look at Leonardo. Raphael stopping was enough to cause a chain reaction that backed up the narrow tunnel.
“What?”
“I mean, she’s soft and squishy.” Leonardo tried to reason, “And even with her bat, I’m not sure she’d stand a chance. I’m not even sure we stand a chance!”
“It’s fine!” Raphael snorted, “She has us and Casey on speed dial if anything goes wrong, which it won’t.”
“No offense Raph, but you didn't see the size of those ‘triceratons’ or whatever they are.” Donnie said, “They’re massive! Your Leon’s right to be concerned.”
“We’ll handle it. We’re on the move.” Raphael set them in motion once more. They didn't get very far at all in the stressed silence.
“I’m getting some strange readings.” Donnie reported.
“And it’s nothing mystic.” Donatello followed up, “So I’ve got the slightest inkling we’re close.”
“Well it’s the end of the road.” Leonardo pointed out the stagnant water that filled the tunnel ahead of them. “Unless dinosaurs can swim, I think we took a wrong turn.”
“Actually, triceratops’ were probably very prolific swimmers—“ Donnie started.
“Again with the dinosaur facts, Don?” Raph threw his head back and groaned.
“I love dinosaurs and you will not shame me for it!”
“I’ll shame you for every damn thing your tree-looking ass does.”
“Say that again, Shrek, I dare you--”
“Guys…” Mikey’s voice cut through the argument. He didn't answer the questioning gazes passed his way as he pushed through the crowd at a brisk walk that quickly turned into a sprint until he fell to his knees in the muck.
His hands groped around the gray water until they found something solid and furry. He yanked Splinter up and held the sodden rat tightly to his chest, feeling his fathers heartbeat against his chest. He was alive. Mikey had been expecting the swarm of turtles, so when they came he wasn’t caught off guard; their shouts of ‘father’ and ‘sensei’ and ‘Splinter’ fell deaf on his ears as he blocked out the shouts for the sake of his own sanity; within seconds, Splinter had been snatched from Mikey by Leo, and then snatched away from Leo by Donnie, and then ushered to be laid on dry stone; Leonardo was there in an instant to help, moving the rat’s head to the side while Donnie took his vitals.
“He’s breathing, but he’s so cold.” Donnie said in a quick, soft voice, “Potential for hyperthermic shock. Pulse is thready…”
“What’s going on, Don?” Leo demanded.
“No obvious trauma. Evidence of water aspiration, wet breath sounds…”
“Is he alright?!” Raph was pacing as he grabbed at his head.
“If he doesn’t start coughing soon we’ll have to suction lungs of excess fluid…”
“Talk to me, Donnie?!”
“Potential for infection…” Donnie’s rambling just kept going on and on and on. He and Leonardo seemed to be working with the same hivemind, the older assessing the state of his father while the younger worked to dry and stabilize.
Without a word passed between the two medics, Donnie lifted Splinter up so his back was pressed to the wall. Leonardo held his hands over Splinter’s stomach so they formed a butterfly, and once Donnie had provided Splinter with four big breaths, Leonardo pumped firmly on the space. Splinter immediately coughed, and once he started coughing he didn't stop. Water spilled out of his mouth and was quickly wiped away by Donnie’s tender touch, and though the rat’s eyes were open they were hardly seeing.
Raphael pulled off his torn coat and offered it to Donnie, who took it without even having to look. He used it to cover Splinter before taking off the rat’s wet robes and discarding them. He then scooped Splinter up in his arms while still vigorously rubbing the coughing rat’s chest.
“What the hell happened?” Raph’s soft words held none of the normal, brutish anger as he laid a hand over his father.
“The entire lower level of sewer is completely flooded.” Leonardo offered, “Has been since we were born. There’s a section of it that opens up into our lair, In the zen room— we never let dad in there by himself. Maybe he fell in?”
“Or was pulled in…” Leo muttered.
“Well whatever the case, it’s a miracle he’s still breathing.” Donnie said, and his hand went from rubbing Splinter’s chest to rubbing his hair. “Nice spot, Mike.”
“I didn't even see him there.” Raph sighed and shook his head.
“Uh, fellas?” It felt wrong invading such a private moment between father and sons and medics, so Michelangelo and Donatello had slowly been drifting away from the group to give them their space. Now, they were backtracking to return to the safety of their numbers, eyes locked Beyond the rescue scene.
The stagnant and still water was no longer still. Bubbles were rippling at the surface, rising through the water and bursting to make room for more to form in rapid succession. The water started to swell, like something - something big - was about to break through.
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I do not have a decent title for this. I’m also not even going to bother with an image (even though I know it would generate more traffic) because I’m not going to steal someone’s shit. It’s about 3500 words, so have fun with that.
Chapter 1
Dying is not fun.
I do not know if you knew that until last night. Maybe you figured that since it was romanticized so much that it would not suck as much as it so clearly and obviously did. Maybe you dreamed of dying relatively peacefully, surrounded by your loved ones. Alas, those dreams were dashed last night when you, oh so wise Y/N, decided that you were going to try baking and forgot the most essential step; taking the thing out of the oven. You remember that night so clearly, the screams of your family begging for their lives still bouncing around in your ears like a torturous golf ball that made a habit of forcing itself into your throat, the feeling of your hair catching alight as your skin bubbled and charred, and rational thought became a foreign concept. You do not remember if you had died from a heart attack or hyperthermia or smoke inhalation, but you had a general idea that, yes, that night had been your last on Earth.
So, where the fuck are you?
You pull yourself into a sitting position, your back pressed against something hard as your eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness. The air smells like rotten food and exhaust engines as you pull yourself off the concrete, looking around the alleyway that you had found yourself in. It’s small, narrow, unremarkable in every way, with graffiti covered dumpsters near the entrance. Dazed, confused, generally out of sorts, you make your way to the entrance, patting yourself down for injuries you did not seem to have.
You rub the side of your face with your hand. ‘My head is killing me.’ You slip your hand into your jacket pocket, feeling a key and a piece of paper. ‘God damn it is cold in this alley.’ You zip up your jacket, walking out into the open as you pull the note out, beginning to read.
“Dear Y/N,” you mumble as you read, “we are pleased to inform you of your acceptance into our transference program, yadda yadda yadda, whoopdeedoo…” You skim ahead of some introductory jargon before getting near to the point of the note. “From this point forward, enjoy your permanent residence at ten West.. fifteenth street… apartment number six two two… New York, New York?” You blink. ‘I… that’s not my address.’ You pull out the key. ‘Wait, hold on.’ Your eyebrows furrowed. ‘New York? Wait, I was dead, wasn’t I?’ Your eyes become unfocused. ‘I don’t live anywhere near NYC. Where am I?’ You look around for some sort of landmark, street name, anything to give you some idea of where you are.
You hear a car squeal to a stop on the street corner in front of you, snapping you out of your stupor. As identical men start climbing out of the back of the vehicle, all marching deliberately towards you, a fifteen-year-old girl, your immediate reaction is to run like hell. Unfortunately for you, apparently your speed was not comparable to that of the men who quickly apprehend you, scooping you up and dragging you kicking and screaming into a van. You hear vaguely familiar voices outside, but your focus is less on the mayhem and more on the more pressing matter of getting yourself out of the van. You pound at the door, feel for any sort of locks on the inside, something, anything to get you out of the van, still screaming your head off as you hope whoever was outside had the common sense to call nine one one. You feel your eyelids droop as your breathing slows, your voice dying as your pounding becomes less intense. You slide to you knees, eyes closing even as you mentally scream at yourself to get up, keep at it. You passed out.
--
You wake up laid on the floor this time, the pulsing of electricity above your head almost soothing as you open your eyes. You stagger to your feet, looking around your well-lit enclosure, pink florescent lights lining the ceiling and walls like arteries. After taking note of your new bruises and checking to see if you still have your few personal belongings—you do—you ran over to the door, eyes fixated on the mind boggling, ridiculous scene taking place in front of you.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’ You back away from the slot in the door, trying to process the blatant larping headassery. You had not thought that you would honestly be able to say that, apparently, you were kidnapped by the mother fucking Kraang, yet, in some stroke of tomfuckery on behalf of whatever deity controls your universe, you have, obviously, been kidnapped by some seriously hardcore cosplayers. If nothing else, you must admire the obviously advanced set up.
You run your fingers through your hair, chuckling almost manically. “So,” you say to yourself aloud, “I got kidnapped by TMNT fanboys. Great. Fantastic, even!” You pace around the room, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “I guess this makes me April O'Neil, then? Cool.” Your voice is extremely tight as you shake with intense, mostly negative emotions. “So, I’m somewhere in New York, kidnapped by the Kraang in the worst convention ever. Let me guess,” you laugh, losing your mind a little as you speak to nobody. “I’m gonna have a run in with the Teenage Fucking Ninja Turtles next, right?”
As if on que, you hear laser blasts and shinking metal. The high pitched beeping on an alarm sounded as you heard people—‘Male, teenagers… fuck my life,’— talking about power or something as their footsteps approach your room. You pound on the door. “Hey! Over here!”
You see a brown set of eyes look in through the window. Your suspicions are confirmed; ‘Definitely TMNT larping.’
“We found her,” the owner of said eyes, the one cosplaying as Donatello, calls to the others. Lasers shoot by his head as he turns to stare death in the eyes.
“We’ll hold them off. You pick the lock.” ‘Leonardo.’ You breathe a soft sigh of relief; if nothing else, you are apparently on the side of the people trying to get you out in this game. You hear footsteps going towards the firing.
“Don’t worry,” “Donatello” reassures you, voice tight with apparent anxiety, “I’ll have you out of there in a second!”
“Thanks, Donnie.” You give him a half-hearted thumbs up, trying to see what he was doing through the window. “Take your time.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Wait, how do you know my name?”
You sigh. “Look, man, I don’t know the script for the first episode by heart. You’re gonna have to cut me some slack for not being off-book.”
“Off—what?” He stares at you blankly.
You purse your lips. “I’ll explain if you let me out,” you promise. “Just pick the lock before the blue one gives you shit.”
“Oh, right! The lock!” He nods, grasping onto the logical thing you say and leaning down to start working on the alien technology. He pulls the cover off a control panel by your door, starting to fiddle with the wires.
You lean against the door, watching him work curiously. You hear the battle cries of “Michelangelo” and the toppling of robots as he works, clearly focused on his task. You zone out again. “This is some serious shit,” you mumble.
He mutters in frustration. The one dressed as Raph marches over, more impatient. “Oh for the love of—get out of my way,” he snarls, proceeding to take a very real looking sai out and stabbing the panel with a very in-character ferocity. You almost feel the urge to applaud the acting, and you might if this weren’t such a high stakes situation.
The door in front of you and behind you open at the same time and, deciding against getting captured again—you remember something about hanging from a helicopter in that scenario and you want nothing to do with that—you run alongside the turtles like your life depends on it, stumbling to a halt once you reach outside and slamming the doors closed behind you, blocking it with your back.
Your feet scramble to gain some traction on the cement. “Donnie,” you snap, almost impressed by the force used to pound against the doors, “put your staff in the handles of the door. We gotta go ASAP.”
“Wait, hold up.” The one dressed as Raph jabs his thumb towards you. “How do you know his name?”
You groan. “For fucks- it’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, not fucking Happy Sugar Life. Get the thing in the thing before the vine thing kills us!”
“The what?” Donnie and Raph seem much more confused than before, staring at you inquisitively and angrily respectively.
“Uh, guys?” Mikey pointed. “I think she means that vine thing.”
From the shadows emerges a towering creature made of plant life, its vinelike limbs draping across the ground like roots as it rears its ugly head. Its exposed, pulsating heart pressed against what remains of the creature’s ribcage. “You did this to me,” It growls. “Now you’re going to pay!”
“It’s-“
You cut Leo off. “Snake guy. Mutated into a weed. If you wanna kill it, go for the heart.”
He looked back at you, joining the other two pairs of piercing stares. “Cut that out.”
“Then don’t monologue and kill it before it has mobility!”
“On it.” Raph charges at its lumbering form, and within moments, it falls to the ground in a heap.
The pounding against the door is getting more intense. “Donnie! Staff!”
“Right!” He runs over, sliding his staff in between the door handles.
You stumble forward, the pounding already starting to crack the wood. “Alright, now we can leave.” Without waiting for the others, you sprint away from the building like your life depends on it. The others, clearly confused, follow.
You got a fair few city blocks away before you slow down, breathing heavy and palms stamped with the outline of the key you were holding desperately onto. “You run really fast for cosplayers,” you pant, “with all the- the paint and all.”
“Yeah, about that.” Donatello stops next to you, a thousand questions apparently swimming around in his head. “How do you know our names?” His mouth moves a mile a minute. “How did you know the weakness of that vine creature? What do you mean, cosplay? Who are you? Who were they?”
You cut him off. “One question at a time, hot stuff. Deep breathes.”
His pupils dilate. “H-hot stuff?”
Leo cuts in. “How did you know what we were—uh—cosplaying?” he asks tentatively.
“Odd time to cut the act, but alright.” Your heart rate lowers to a decent pace as your mind still struggles to comprehend what had just happened. You slow your breathing. “I mean,” you explain, gesturing with your hands, “it’s TMNT. It’s iconic.”
“Iconic?” He nods. “Well, since you know so much about it, then why don’t we test your knowledge? To see if you’re a real fan..”
“Y-you think I’m hot?”
“I don’t see the point, but I’m down.” You shrug, deciding to ignore the melting turtle for a second. “Shoot.”
He thinks for a moment. “Who’s the main character?”
You shrug. “You four, I guess.”
Mikey jumped in. “What’s the theme song?”
“Gonna have to be more specific there, buddy.”
“Is it really a great idea to just talk out here in the open?” Raph crossed his arms across his front.
“Probably not.” You look around. “Unless you have a map on you, I’d suggest we go back to your lair.”
“Our—what kind of stalker—”
“Look, honey,” you sigh, “if we’re going to go over every aspect of their lives that I know about we’re going to be here for a long time. For our purposes, just assume I know everything I need to know, and if you’re curious about specifics, we’ll go on a case-by-case basis.” You start walking down the sidewalk. “I’m guessing you guys hang out in the sewer, right?” You feel almost tempted to say that they’re just flat out psychotic, their blatant conviction in their own characters almost frightening. ‘I’ve heard of kinning,’ you think, pulling up a manhole cover you see at the end of an alley and wincing at the smell, ‘but this is ridiculous.’ You blink at the surprising lack of weight.
“Yeah.” Mikey—no, the Michelangelo cosplayer—walked over, already hopping in. “Our show must be super popular, right? Who’s the favorite character? How long have we been running?”
“Oh, you guys are—” You stop talking. “Wait, what year is it?” You start climbing down.
“Two thousand and twelve. Why?”
You step off the ladder, starting to walk behind him as he lead the way. “Well, it’s not tweny twelve where I’m from. It’s twenty twenty.”
“Wait, hold up.” He turns around to face you as he walks. “You’re from the future? That is so freakin awesome!”
You rub the back of your neck, trying to ignore the smell. “I mean,” you confess, “being from the future would be cooler if I was from a better time, I think.” ‘I wonder where they—’ You shake your head. “But, If we were running on the same time, I’d only be seven, I think, so it’s pretty cool I get to be here, I guess.”
“Dude, totally!” He turns a corner. “Our first day up top and we meet a time traveler?”
“Technically,” a voice from behind you makes you jump, “if what she’s saying is true, she somehow also knows interdimensional travel as well.”
‘Mother fucking ninj—cosplayers, focus. Don’t let them pull you in too.’ “Well, I really wouldn’t say—”
“Guys, is there not a clearly bigger concern on our hands?” You were already getting sick of not hearing footsteps. “Like, say, I don’t know, the fact she’s claiming we’re fictional characters?”
“Look, man,” you roll your eyes, “I already said I’m more than happy to answer any questions I can. In fact,” you continued, stopping in your tracks as you stared the red—clad turtle in the eye, “I’ll even stay put until we sort this whole situation out.”
“Fine by me.” Leo and Raph both face you, eyes boring into your soul as you stand there awkwardly.
“Let’s start off with the basics.” Leo’s tone is awfully light compared to his blatant skepticism. “What is everyone’s name?”
You force yourself not to roll your eyes again. “You’re all Hamatos.” You point at the tall one with the gap in his teeth. “That one’s Donatello, the yellow one next to him is Michelangelo, you,” you point at the red one with the broader shoulders, “are Raphael, and the sensei appointed leader is Leonardo. Easy.”
Leonardo nods. “Okay, you got the easy one.” It is at times like these when you wish you could read people. “What are we?”
“Teenage mutant ninja turtles.” You don’t have to hesitate.
“How did we become the way we are?”
“Splinter had a Kraang run in and you got ooze on you. Last thing you touched before you transformed was a person, so you became turtle/human hybrids.” You rest a hand on your hip. “Oh, happy birthday, by the way.”
A sea of blank faces face you. “Wait, you know who those things are?” Donatello is the first to speak after a pregnant pause.
“Well, yeah.” You shrug, the reality of the situation not yet dawning on you. “They almost take over the world in at least two season finales.
“They what?”
“Yeah.” You stick your hands in your pockets, fingering the key and note, confused by their apparent horror. “I mean, I’m still on the season three finale, but alien invasion is this show’s bread and butter for the most part.”
“I- what?” Raphael appears to be having a stroke. “What- bre- I- huh? What the-“
“Is he okay?” You look, completely unconcerned, at Donatello, who is swaying on his feet.
“Alien.. invasion…”
You blink, walking over to him and placing your hand on his cheek. You were surprised at the feeling of skin under your palm. ‘Not face paint..’ You look his incredibly pale face over curiously. ‘Not a mask…’ “Oh.” Your fingers slide down and off his jaw, falling slackly. “You weren’t joking, were you?”
If nothing else, he seems less concerned than he did a second ago.
Leonardo—‘The actual—hold on a minute.’—grabs your shoulder. “This isn’t a joke.” His face is stone. “You’re being serious, right?”
You felt blood drain out of your face. “Sadly? Yes.” You force yourself to take deep breaths so as to not pass out. “But, on the bright side,” you smiled weakly, “I can guarantee your survival for at least a few months.”
“What do you mean a few months?” Raphael is shaking as he yells, his voice roar echoing in the enclosed space. “How is it only—what the hell?”
“The show only ran over the course of an in-universe year.” You fight to keep your voice steady as dread seizes your throat. “I don’t know what happens after the year is up, or if it even lasts the whole year.”
“So we have less than twelve months to live?”
“This is so not cool.” Michelangelo is having a bit of a mental breakdown. “So, so not cool.”
“Hey, it’s not a guarantee!” You put your hands up reassuringly. “That’s just how long the show runs. Besides, it’s a kid’s show. There’s no way they’d kill off the main characters.”
“The hell they—who the hell is they?”
“Nickelodeon.”
“What the fuck is Nickelodeon?”
You groan. “Look, I’m just saying that you four are definitely going to survive the next few months!” Your voice rises easily to his volume. “I don’t know what happens after those months are up! I haven’t gotten to that point!”
“Why the hell not?”
You ran your fingers through your hair, laughing incredulously. “What, do you think I knew I was going to meet the IRL Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and had a chance to plan accordingly? No!” You throw your hands up in the air. “I died last night and now I’m here! Hell, I don’t even know where the fuck I’m going to go, fuck knowing who’s going to get the fucking axe between now and the series finale!”
“Will you two both cut it out?” Leo snapped, shutting you two up.
You put your hands up, still fuming and glaring at Raphael. He responds in kind.
“What’s your name?” He looked at you.
“Y/N. Y/N L/N.” Your breathing slows slightly.
“Alright. Y/N, you said you’ve seen up to season three, right?”
“Yeah.” You nod.
“Meaning you know what’s going to happen in the next few months, right?”
You nod at the leader.
He thinks for a moment. “Then we need to stay in contact. If what you’re saying is true, your knowledge of our show could be extremely valuable to us.”
You rub your eyes with your hands, sighing, trying to cool down. “I can do that.” You put your hands down. “If nothing else, I’m more than happy to offer up emotional support. The next few months are going to be extremely physically and emotionally difficult for you guys.”
Donnie pipes up. “Do you have a place to stay?”
You pull out the piece of paper. “I have an address and key, but I don’t know my way around NYC.” You smile slightly at the unintentional rhyme. “Do you guys know where ten west fifteenth street—wait, it’s your guys’ first day.” You nod. “I forgot.”
“It’s alright.” Donatello is oddly quick saying that. “I-if you want, I—we can help you find it.”
You rub your arm, your previous indignance replaced with extreme embarrassment at your previous actions. “Nah, it’s alright,” you reassure him. “I’m sure I can find a map or something.”
“It’s really not safe to just wander around New York so late.”
You pause at that. “That is an extremely good point.” You nod. “Alright. But I owe you guys dinner or something for trusting me this far. Also,” you smile teasingly, “what you’re currently eating is legitimately revolting.”
“Amen to that.” Raphael, if nothing else, seems to have calmed down.
Mikey hopped in. “Oh, we just found this crazy awesome food—”
“I can order pizza,” you reassure him.
He punches the air excitedly. “Let’s go!”
“If you want, you can sleep on the couch for tonight,” Leonardo offers. “It’s going to get light pretty soon, and we really shouldn’t be seen.”
You shrug. “Works for me.
As you follow the teenagers down the sewer, conversating as you walk, you take a moment to reflect on all that has happened so far. A part of you, oddly enough, is almost excited by the prospect of spending time with these guys. But a stronger, darker part reminds you sweetly of the dangers you knew lay ahead.
You close your eyes. ‘I’m never going to see my family again, am I?’
How that is the least of your worries, you don’t know.
Table Of Contents
Chapter 2
#tmnt 2012#fanfic#donnie x reader#but not yet#We’ll (probably) get to it#3000+ words#In my defense I couldn’t find a good cut off point.#tmnt donnie#teenage mutant ninja turtles#teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012#chapter 1#introduction#if you think I’m naming the chapters you are wrong.#or high.#actually if you’re reading this the latter is more likely.#Possible MCD? I haven’t decided yet.#Fuck it.#major character death#Angst#probably#I’m figuring it out as we go.#I do accept constructive criticism.#i’m sorry#let me know if you have any ideas#Because I have a plan but if sure as hell ain’t gonna be pretty.#flirting?#panic#general panicking#is this enough tags#i legitimately have no clue
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Secrets of the Darkened Seas
🧜🏻♀️ Hello! Welcome to chapter three! Please please please give a like and follow to my co-author and best friend Luna ( @ladynightmare913 ) because this story would not be where it’s at without her help!
She’s incredible and deserves so much credit for working on this alongside me cause she works so hard. And I feel horrible that she isn’t getting the credit deserves.
Especially since this chapter includes some of her own ocs in addition to my own! There’s a lot of new faces to join us! All credit for creation goes to each other for our respective characters because we’ve both worked so hard to create our ocs and I wouldn’t dare want to take credit away from her.
As always, a reminder that there is some lore included within this, however, it will be explained over time so no worries. There’s no mention of lore for right now.
The Included lore on different types of merfolk will be taken from the book “The Secret World of Mermaids” by Francine Rose. We will not take credit for it’s writing. It’s a childhood book of mine that I adore dearly and sincerely think you should all check out!
Also! Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so that you don’t miss a new chapter!
Anyways, that’s about it. I hope you enjoy!
If you’ve missed any chapters here’s the link to the masterlist for this story Secrets of the Darkened Seas 🧜🏻♀️
Small warning at the start here, there is a minor character death included in this chapter.
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Chapter 3: A Sea of Fireworks
Three years passed as The Dragon’s Pearl sailed the seven seas. There had been many fierce battles and grand adventures as Remus learned the ways of the sword from both Captain Hua and First mate Sandoval. During the past few years, Remus found a particular fondness for literature that grew further than when he was younger. Along the way, there have been many new companions to join the shipmates, and the secrets of a certain young man were revealed. A year on his own at sea taught Remus many things, but he couldn’t help but miss the company of those upon The Dragons’ Pearl.
Now at seventeen summers old, the once young boy has grown into a fine young man.
Under the sea, there was a mythical creature with bright shimmering amber scales, varying in shades of accent tones from the top of his tail, to his fluke. The moonlight breached the surface of the darkened sea, the light reflected off of his amber eyes, as if they began to shine and glow under the moon’s pale beauty. His medium length tawny colored hair flowed around him in the cool waters. The mer turned down before his arms moved forwards as he dived down deeper into the sea. The deeper he went, the darker it became.
As he reached the seafloor, he swam at a leisurely pace, brushing a clawed hand against the seagrass. Looking up, the seagrass became littered with life, crabs, small, fish, seahorses, an octopus, and coral. He chuckled to himself as the fish scattered when he swam near them, a green sea turtle by his side seemed to follow him, wherever he went. It had felt too long since he had last been in the sea.
Remus’ head turned sharply upwards as he picked up the sound of a muffled screeching noise coming from the surface. Then a muted bang before a flash of scattered gold light. With a strong flick of his tail, the floor beneath him vanished from sight as he neared the surface.
Breaching from the water, he looks up to the familiar ship with concern, “Opal! What’s happening?!” He yells up to the deck.
In an instant, a tall beautiful greek woman, around the age of twenty-three, with long light brown hair, hazel green eyes, lightly tanned skin peered over the railing of the deck to respond. She was dressed in a sea-blue off the shoulder long-sleeved shirt that was tucked into her light brown pants, with a black corset vest on top, and black boots. At her hip was a wide sword with a dark blue sheath, and its hilt had the detailing of a trident.
“Min-Jun received a letter! We have to make port in Portland! The Blacks and Greyback were spotted off the coast of Dorset!” She lowers the rope ladder and opens the small gate, “Get your tail up here!”
Remus catches the ladder with ease and pulls himself up onto it, “What’s the sudden hurry? We’re currently off the coast of Dorset ourselves.” He comments, looking back up to his friend.
“Quinn’s family lives in Portland, he thinks they’ll be going after them!” Opal replies, tossing down a blanket for Remus to dry his scales with.
Remus winces as the blanket lands upon his head, frowning as it blocks his view. Pulling the soft cloth from his head, he sets to work on drying himself and his scales, “But why would they go after his family?” He yells out.
Opal pauses, a somber look upon her face as she watches Remus make his way up the rope ladder with his two legs, scales now nowhere to be seen. She shakes her head as he reaches the deck, “I don’t know. But I think something’s wrong.”
Two-quarters of an hour pass with The Dragon’s Pearl sailing at full speed to Portland. The sea seemed to be at their side that night, the sound of cannon fire reached the members of the crew. The lifeboats were lowered with First mate Sandoval and Remus inside one of the boats.
Remus’ eyes widened when he saw the pitch-black sails of The Ophiuchus which could barely be seen from a distance. The ship’s colors had a black flag with a white skull with a snake coming out of an eye socket. The Blacks. The ancient pirate ship passed down from generation to generation of Blacks. Rumors and tales continuously traveled from sailors aboard many ships about the family, the ship gaining the nickname of Grimmauld amongst the gossiping sailors. Remus had heard many tales himself in the past.
The Blacks were ruthless in their pliage for gold, leaving no survivors. There were tales of The Ophiuchus battling The Dragon’s Pearl when Captain Orion Black attempted to steal the other Captain’s ship. Although Captain Hua was young, he forced the Blacks to flee when their ship suffered too much damage. The Captain of The Dragon’s Pearl had given them a warning years ago that should he ever see them again, he would kill the Captain of The Ophiuchus.
The boats reached the docks before everyone ran up to the small town of Portland. Quinn cut down any pirate who foolishly stood in his way. Remus followed close behind, sword drawn at the ready, and cut down any pirate who tried to go after Quinn whilst the man’s back was turned. Remus had grown used to the occasional battle, but hardly ever were the stakes this high. Opal and Captain Hua had stayed on the ship with a skeleton crew, while the other sailors joined Remus and Quinn to shore.
Remus stopped in his tracks when one of the pirates was running straight for him. With the sword in his hand, Remus quickly stabbed the pirate in the abdomen before pulling his sword free and running to catch up with Quinn. Who was running up a hill towards the Lighthouse faster than Remus had ever seen the man move.
Up close the lighthouse was rather beautiful for its old age, time had been kind to it, yet the years have clearly made their marks all throughout the house. The lighthouse more than likely had many stories to tell. Standing tall with red and white patterns, a small quaint cottage at the base of the lighthouse became visible as Remus neared the property. The house was alight with shadows dancing across the windows as pirates breached the door, the sound of clanging swords could be heard coming from inside the house. Quinn cut down pirates until he finally managed to enter the house.
Quinn’s eyes widened as he surveyed the state of the house, there were countless pirates from both the Black’s and Greyback’s sailors engaged in sword fights. There was hardly a break as he entered the fray of battle, cutting down unsuspecting men from behind and never letting his guard down.
A middle-aged woman with black hair tied into a messy bun, bright brown eyes, fair skin, and rosy lips gripped the rapier in her hand tightly as she slashed down another pirate. She twirled expertly, her white nightgown and dark robe twirling with her, to dodge a blow from another pirate before she stabs them, she pulls the sword free before she raises it to the man who just entered the cottage, freezing as her eyes widen in surprise. “Quinn!” She exclaimed before her eyes darted to a pirate behind him who began to stir awake.
He smiles at the exclamation before following her line of sight, turning behind him he sees the pirate that began to stir awake. Flipping the hilt of his sword in hand, he stabs the newly conscious pirate in the chest before turning back to the woman, “Mother are you alright?” He looked over the cottage, objects just laying scatter on the floor before he looked back to his mother.
“I’m perfectly alright, it’s your father I’m worried about, that blasted Greyback cornered him to the basement!” The woman turned her gaze to the young man who just reached the door, quickly assessing him before offering him a small nod. “And you must be Remus.”
Remus nods in return, “I am. How did you-” He cuts himself off as the answer was obvious and gives his First mate a pointed look, “Quinn. You’ve told them about me haven’t you?”
“Remus. Who do you take me for? Of course, I did.” Quinn mirrors the same pointed look back, “How else do you think Min-Jun and I were able to help you as a child?” He looks back to his mother, “We better move quickly. Hopefully, father is using the basement to his advantage.”
“Quinn, this is your father, of course, he is.” The woman turns to a door that leads to a staircase to the basement. Quickly lifting her skirt the woman rushed down the stairs.
The three rush down the stairs and into the large dimly lit basement, which could only be described as a very large study with storage. Bookshelves lined the walls and the shelves themselves were stacked with a variety of mythical things one would only believe to be within the tales. Color bottles and vials littered the shelves of the room, various plants were in every corner of the room. In the center of the basement, a large man with a cutlass scoured the room with a harsh glare for the man who was hiding.
The man wielding the cutlass was large, nearly the height of Min-Jun and Quinn, he had a vicious looking face, with very long matted grey hair in dreads, a scar going across his right eye, the iris pale compared to its twin which was pitch black. His left ear had a gold hoop earring, his teeth were visible as he sneered at others who interrupted his dual.
Remus’ eyes could only widen as he looked upon the large man, his breathing quickening and grip tightening on his sword. Every part of him grew defensive and fearful, his instincts screaming at him to get out. To run. He’s heard of this man before, Fenrir Greyback, a notorious and ruthless hunter of mers alike, capturing and selling mers for profit, or simply to just experiment on them. Other times he’d simply slaughter any merfolk he could find.
Greyback’s knuckles looked raw and battered with blood as he gripped his weapon tightly, his long yellowish nails were easily spotted as his right hand pressed against his chest, a wound with fresh blood seeping through his grey shirt. “This isn’t over.” He snarled before he ran out the basement door.
Hidden behind a bookcase, was a middle-aged man with tousled red-brown hair with long bangs parted to the left, light-colored skin, and blue eyes. He wore a simple navy blue shirt underneath a grey robe, light brown pants, and dark brown boots. Eyes trained as he watched the burly man closely, sword drawn at the ready to continue the duel. He made no motion to move as Greyback snarled in warning, back pressed flush against the wood until he could hear the pounding footsteps a safe distance away.
Relaxing marginally, he exits his retreat behind the bookcase and sighs, “That man is repulsive.” He mutters under his breath.
“You’re not wrong about that father.” Quinn chuckles as he gently pats his father’s shoulder.
“Why would Greyback come all the way out here? Why would he attack you?” Remus looked at the older man.
“Probably because my husband has something he wants.” The older woman looks to her husband. “Are you alright?”
The older man looks to his wife and nods, “I’m alright. If anything Greyback’s in much worse shape. That wound is going to leave quite a scar if untreated.”
“What was he after?” Remus looked between the older couple.
“Something no one should know exists.” The woman looked around the room. Muttering under her breath at the state of the room. “But rumors are a powerful thing, especially when they hold truths.”
“And especially if it makes you incredibly well known in the nautical world.” The man continued with a sigh. Moving aside his robe, he pulls free a rather thick leather book from an inner pocket and looks down at it. “He’d be a fool to think I’d just leave it lying about.”
Remus’ eyes looked over the leather book. At first glance, it was nothing out of the ordinary, but Remus knew better than to judge a book by its cover. It was what’s inside the book that Greyback took a slash to the chest in order to obtain. And failed. Whatever information that was contained inside the book was important. Why else would such a siege upon this small home occur? Enough to bring both Greyback and the Blacks themselves here.
“This book is the only one in existence.” The woman looked at Remus as she stood beside her husband. “It’s about your kind.” Gently taking the book from her husbands’ hands, she holds the book to Remus. “My husband wrote everything he learned about the magical creatures of the sea.” She smiles as she encourages Remus to take the book.
“About my kind…” He repeats at a whisper before a realization comes to mind, amber eyes widening at the thought, “That’s why he wanted the book. To hunt more merfolk.” A cold shudder runs down his spine at the thought of Greyback getting his hands upon this book. No wonder the older man fought to protect it with his life. Mers alike would be in even more danger than in the past. And after seeing the man in person, Remus felt as though the rumors didn’t give any accurate insight as to how gruesome the pirate actually appeared, and the snarling tone of his voice would most likely echo in his mind for days.
At the older man’s nod in confirmation, he looked back at him. “How long have you been working on this?” Remus asked as he took the book, with careful hands.
“Many years. I was a bit younger than you when I first started writing the beginning pages.”
Remus looks down to the worn leather book and opens to a well-kept page, Fantastic Nautical Creatures, by Newt Scamander. Remus’ eyes widen at the title and familiar name, pausing mid-turn of a page. Wait. Remus looks at Quinn with wide eyes, before he looks back to the older couple.
“You’re Newt Scamander,” He looks to the woman, “And you’re Porpetina Scamander!”
“Please, call me Tina dear.” She rubs Remus’ arm in a comforting manner.
Remus looks to Quinn, an unreadable expression upon his face. Quinn had called them mother and father. That means… “You’re their son?!”
“Quinton Scamander is my real name,” Quinn answered with a simple shrug. “Sandoval was the first thing I could come up with when you asked for my name. I’m not exactly used to keeping an alias.” He looks at his parents. “Why couldn’t you have just kept it at Quinn?”
“And leave the Scamander tradition of giving horrible names? I couldn’t possibly.” Tina chuckled.
“Oh, you wound me, mother. What a way to keep tradition.” Quinn replies with a wince.
“It’s not like my family did any better.” Tina retorts just as the sound of cannon fire boomed, echoing throughout the basement. Tensing, everyone turned their heads to the back door, and with a nod from Newt, they exited the damaged basement and headed to the cliffs.
As the group ran back towards the shoreline, Remus could see The Dragon’s Pearl exchanging cannon fire with The Ophiuchus. The ships both suffered blows from the other, only the Dragon’s Pearl wasn’t on fire. And what appeared to be Min-Jun, swinging on a rope, from the Ophiuchus back to the Dragon’s Pearl.
Quinn only groaned at the sight. “And he gives me lectures about swinging from a rope.” Hypocrite. “Why are you like this…” He mumbled under his breath.
Tina and Newt only chuckled as their son scowled at the captain. They ran to the docks just as the Ophiuchus began to make their retreat, and the Dragon’s Pearl making its way to the loading docks. Opal was the first rush down to welcome Quinn and Remus back.
Quinn had a strange feeling, one that he couldn’t place as he looked over Opal. Relieved that the woman wasn’t injured in the crossfire, although he was well aware that she could easily handle herself. “Ti synévi?” What happened? he had asked.
“To shorten it: Min-Jun snuck onto Greyback’s ship and found two gorgónes. Mermaids. Brought them back to The Dragon’s Pearl, then snuck onto the Ophiuchus, rescued the second Black heir and brought him back as well.” Opal said with a shake of her head, “How that was possible, I have no idea.”
“Sounds about right,” Newt replied with a chuckle.
The older couple looked at their son, who had never told them he learned and spoke greek. Newt and Tina looked at each other before sharing a knowing smile. Tina looked to the woman with the greek accent. “I’m Tina Scamander, Quinn’s mother. I wonder why my dear son would fail to mention a lovely lady such as yourself in his letters?” She turns her head slowly to glare at Quinn, who found the sea far more interesting at the moment. Tina looked back to the young woman. “What is your name dear?”
Opal watched Quinn’s gaze quickly turn to the sea in embarrassment. Oh this awkward man. She fought the urge to tease the poor man, there was time to mess with him another time. Not in front of his parents. She smiled as she looked at Tina. “Opal Teresi. It’s nice to meet you.”
Remus looked to Quinn with a teasing smirk, “Really? You mention me in your letters but not Opal?”
“Shut. Up.” Quinn says with wide eyes that seemed to promise pain with an unnaturally wide smile.
“You’ll have to write to me dear, Quinn hardly ever writes what’s going on in his life. I have to rely on Min-Jun for that.” She tsks she pats Opal’s hand affectionately.
“I will,” Opal replies with a nod.
“May I see them?” Newt asks the young woman. “The mermaids.”
The young woman pauses for a moment and looks to Newt, “They’re terrified, so please. If there’s any way you could help.”
“Maybe I can get them to calm down?” Remus suggests looking to Opal and Newt.
“That may be for the best.” Opal agrees, “We better hurry, Min-Jun wants to leave as soon as possible. Before the Blacks notice their son is missing.”
Opal leads the group to the cabins, walking past many doors until they finally stop at one door with a circular window. Remus peered inside and froze when a pair of glaring eyes locked to his. Inside the room, there was a tall beautiful Asian woman with wet long dark brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin, and bright red lips. She looked to be about Opal’s age. Her tail was a dazzling array of soft blue scales that looked like misshapen spots, with white scales as the base, her fluke was nearly a translucent shimmery white. Her skin was pale, her arms were wrapped tightly around the smaller mer. Her tail coiled around them protectively. Remus nearly gasped. The mermaid only clutched the child tighter, her glare never leaving Remus’ face.
The mer in her arms was tiny. A child, who couldn’t have been older than four. The mer child had short soft silky black hair that was in disarray, brown eyes, light sun-kissed skin. The child clung tightly to the older mermaid's neck, their tail had pale teal and shimmery white scales with the same patterns as the older mermaid, safely tucked under her arms. The mer child’s shoulders were shaking, pearls littered the blankets beneath them. Tears. They sat alone in the room, laying on top of a few spare blankets for the cabin beds.
Remus’ gaze was pulled away at the sound of running footsteps, a sailor running past them in haste, to the infirmary. On impulse, Remus followed the sailor as they walked through the door.
There Min-Jun sat on a chair, looming over a deathly still figure, his face pale. Min-Jun was holding the still figure’s hand.
Remus gulped, scared to find out who the figure was. “Who…”
Min-Jun looked up to see Remus. With pained eyes he looked back down to the figure. Gently putting the cold hand to rest on their chest.
“Ethan’s dead.”
.
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#wolfstar#remus lupin#sirius black#remus x sirius#quinn scamander#min-jun hua#opal teresi#newt scamander#tina goldstein#minor character death#mysterious mers#orion black#fenrir greyback#asunshinepuff ocs#ladynightmare ocs#our ocs#pirate captian#pirate and mermaid au
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Family Weekend
The Teen Titans headed out for a weekend with their families. Wonder Girl was running a mission with her Amazon sisters. Impulse had planned out some fun with her parents and twin brother. Virus left for their homeworld. Nightstar spent time with her mothers.
Robin, having left Gotham over a year earlier and not looked back, assumed he'd spend the weekend alone in Titans Tower. Then Red X broke in.
Part of Batkid and Robin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Robin stared down at his tea with a frown, tapping his fingers against the mug randomly. A small buzz came near and he sighed. “Don’t try it, Virus.” When the buzz kept coming, he glared behind him at the blue Roomba slowly making its way towards him.
It paused, then sighed. Electric blue energy pulled out of the robot vacuum, leaving the black device to roll off on its own. The energy collected into a blue humanoid form with geometric white patterns across them. The patterns on their face formed into a pout as they leaned against the kitchen counter. “How did Robin know?”
He just smirked and turned away.
“Come on!” the Gexin whined and threw themself over Robin’s lap, making the barstool rock slightly. “Robin has to tell Virus how Robin knew Virus was the tiny floor robot. Please!”
“The thing was blue,” Nightstar called from the couch, not looking up from her book.
“Nightstar and Robin have not seen the tiny floor robot before. The tiny floor robot could have always been blue.”
“There’s also the fact Roombas are banned from the tower,” Robin pointed out, patting Virus’s back. “So it had to be some kind of prank.”
“Speaking of, why is there a Roomba in the tower?” Nightstar asked, looking up with a glare and Virus shifted into their amorphous form to hide behind Robin.
“The tiny floor robot is Impulse’s,” they said quickly. “Virus just borrowed the tiny floor robot.”
“Wow, hey, way to snitch!” Impulse huffed, zipping up next to Robin. “And for your information, it’s not a Roomba. Roomba’s are made by iRobot. Uncle Arsenal made this one. Its name is Voobo.”
Robin gave her a look. “Get rid of it before Wonder Girl gets back or its name will be Crushed.”
“Come on, Rob. Can’t it stay?” she asked, batting her eyes.
He was unmoved. “Remember last time?”
“It was a joke! Come on, no one even got hurt. I thought you’d like it. Having Dags around would have kept us on our toes. You love that ��Constant vigilance!’ stuff.”
“You took one of Wonder Girl’s daggers,” Nightstar said.
“Well, yeah. I wasn’t going to strap one of our kitchen knives to the thing,” Impulse scoffed. “I cook with those, unlike some people.”
“No Roombas -- or Roomba-like devices -- in the tower,” Robin declared.
Impulse booed him and Virus poked part of themself out from behind him so he could see their face patterns making it appear they were sticking their tongue out.
“Hey, you want it to get crushed, be my guest.”
“Shouldn’t you two be packing?” Nightstar asked.
“Nightstar is one to talk,” Virus huffed.
“All my stuff was packed up last night because I’m capable of thinking ahead.”
“Virus only has a few files that Virus needs to transfer into roving storage,” the Gexin hummed, leaning against Robin’s back. “The transfer will only take a minute or two so the transfer can wait until Virus is about to leave.”
“And I’m a speedster. People would get suspicious if I wasn’t late,” Impulse shrugged and scooped up the knockoff Roomba.
“Well, Flash was supposed to be here ten minutes ago so you should probably get packed,” Robin pointed out.
Her eyes widened and she glanced down at her phone. She gave a curse and darted out of the room.
Virus jumped over the counter and grabbed a banana. As they absorbed it, they asked, “When is Nightstar going to leave?”
She shrugged. “Ommi’s waiting for me at a diner nearby since I was waiting for Flash to get here so we could all say our goodbyes together and she’s still tracking down exactly where Troia, Ilia, and Wonder Girl are. We’re going to go raid whatever mission they’re on before Mom gets back from Tamaran tonight.”
“Okay. Then Virus will go do the transfer so Virus is ready to go as soon as Impulse leaves.”
Nightstar shrugged and went back to her book. Though, as soon as they were gone, she tossed it aside and turned her focus on Robin. “You know, I can cancel. Ommi won’t mind messing with Donna, Cassie, and Yara on her own.”
“Kory will be upset if you miss Family Weekend,” Robin pointed out, turning back to his tea.
“She hasn’t been planetside for two weeks. I’m sure Ommi, Uncle Roy, and Uncle Biz will be happy to keep her distracted. Not like we get up to much even when I am there. I’ll just call her later.”
“There’s no reason for you to stay. Go have fun annoying Yara with Artemis,” he sighed.
“If you’re going to spend the whole time brooding all alone again then there’s plenty of reason to stay.”
“You’re the queen of brooding,” Robin chuckled halfheartedly.
“Which means I know how much brooding alone sucks,” she said, getting up and moving to stand over him. “I’ll stay and we can brood together.”
He sighed again and set the mug on the counter. He met her eyes. “I’m fine, Mandy.”
“Dick -”
“Seriously. I’m just going to catch up on some work. I could use the quiet and you deserve some time with your moms. You said Kory’s been getting better.”
“Fine, but -”
“Yara’s on a mission in the Amazon Basin, Irey’s got all sorts of plans set up with her parents and Jai, and Galvio’s going to be off-world. None of them need to be popping in or coming back early just because you think I can’t be alone for a couple of days.” When she opened her mouth, he added, “And neither do any of the other Titans. They’re all working hard to cover for us so we can have this break and don’t need to add babysitting me on top of that.”
She scowled and sat down on the stool next to his. “It’s not that I think you can’t be alone, it’s just that I think you shouldn’t be alone.”
“Thanks.”
“You know what I meant,” she growled, pushing his chest hard enough to make his barstool tip backward.
He hooked his food around hers and righted the stool before it could fall. “I’ll be alright. A little alone time is good once in a while.”
Impulse ran through the room, stopping only long enough to say, “Dad’s here!” before she was gone again.
Nightstar tisked and stood up. “You’re sure?”
He nodded and she turned away. “Fine, but I’ll have my T-Comm on me if you need anything.”
He didn’t respond.
She grabbed her book as Flash ran in.
“Hey kids,” he said, glancing at the two. “Where are the others?”
“Wonder Girl’s already gone, Virus is preparing to leave, and Impulse is packing,” Robin answered.
“Course she is,” the man chuckled. “I’d say she gets it from me, but Uncle Barry was the exact same way so maybe it’s the Speed Force.”
“I think you guys just like to use that as an excuse to be lazy,” Nightstar said as she left.
“I’m sure Artemis would agree,” Wally chuckled. He turned to Robin and the boy stiffened.
Not visibly enough that Flash would notice, but visible enough that…
Robin turned away to grab his tea.
“So, you heading to Goth-”
“No.”
The man shot over to sit on the stool Nightstar had been using. “One of these days I’m going to get you to tell me how exactly you’re related to the Bats.”
“Good luck with that,” he scoffed. He looked up at the man. “You work with three of them. Four when Flamebird’s having a good day. Why not just ask them?”
Shut up. You don’t care. They don’t care so you don’t care.
Flash snorted. “Right. Like getting info out of a Bat isn’t impossible. If I ask Signal, he just shakes his head and says it’s not his place. Orphan just looks sad when you get brought up and won’t talk for a while. Flamebird won’t talk to me, to begin with, so he’s out. His old man hasn’t been much better since Batkid died -- not that I blame him -- and he only got worse when that new thief showed up in Gotham a few months ago so there’s no chance of him saying anything.”
They don’t care.
“If it’s so impossible, then why do you keep bugging me.”
“Well, you’re not really a Bat, right?”
Robin’s fingers tightened around the mug. “No, I’m not.”
“There you go then.”
He glared down at the tea.
Distract.
“What were you saying about a thief? Catwoman got a rival?”
Flash shrugged. “It’s Gotham stuff so we don’t hear much, but I have heard the new guy’s been giving her a run for her money. It’s not only that though. He’s apparently claimed a chunk of the city as his own and screws with anyone that messes around in his territory without his permission. Especially if they involve kids.”
Robin hummed, not paying attention.
Cass doesn’t care. She’s just sad because I remind her of Jay.
“I think he’s called Red -”
“Daddy!” Impulse shrieked as she came streaking through the room to throw herself at Flash, who was already on his feet with his arms outstretched to catch her and pull her into a hug.
Virus came skipping in after her at a much slower pace, a duffle bag in his arms. Nightstar was a few steps behind wearing her battle armor with a rucksack hanging from one shoulder.
“There’s my light! You ready to go?”
“Yup! Just got to say bye to the others,” she said, squeezing him. She let go and passed the bag Virus was carrying to her father before pulling the Gexin into a hug. “Bye, Vi!”
“Goodbye, Impulse! Tell Turtle Virus says hello.”
“I will. Tell Galv-11 I say hi! Twin solidarity!” She pulled away to hug Nightstar. “Have fun with your moms!”
“Yeah, yeah.” She gave Impulse’s back two pats before pushing her away.
The redhead just smiled at her before throwing herself at Robin, a move that would have knocked him off the stool and spilled his tea if he hadn’t seen it coming and braced himself. “Bye, Rob! See you Monday!”
“See you, Pulse.”
She pressed a quick -- for non-speedsters -- kiss to his cheek before pulling away. She gave the group a wave as she took her dad’s hand then the two were gone.
“Well, I’m off,” Nightstar said, adjusting the pack and glancing at her remaining teammates. Her gaze lingered on Robin. “Unless someone’s changed their mind.”
“Bye, Star,” Robin said pointedly.
She nodded to him, then Virus.
“Goodbye, Nightstar. Virus has completed the transfer so Virus will be leaving too.”
“Bye Virus.
They waved then dove into the phone outlet that connected to the satellites on the roof.
“Don’t cause Yara too much of a hassle. You do have to work together when you both get back.”
“Yeah, yeah. We all know she loves it,” Nightstar said, waving him off as she turned to leave. “Talk to you later, Dick.”
“Later, Mandy.”
He waited a few moments after the door shut behind her before getting up to go to the couch, tea still in hand. He sat down and grabbed the tablet he’d left on the coffee table. A few clicks had the security feeds up. The speedsters were long gone, Virus was just finishing the transfer over to the Justice League’s long-range satellites that would let him system hop back to his homeworld, and Nightstar was making her way out. He watched her progress until she was completely out of range before tossing the tablet to the side and slumping back against the couch.
He took a sip of his tea and scowled. He set it on the table and buried his face into his hands.
Over a year and a half away from Gotham and he still couldn’t figure out how Alfred made a cup of tea taste like anything other than gross leaf water.
He didn’t know why he still bothered. He’d never liked tea all that much, even when Alfred made it.
It was just… stupid Family Weekend. He hated it. Hated being alone. Hated seeing the others all disappear to spend time with their families. All it did was remind him of everything he’d lost.
Everyone he’d lost.
Or never had to begin with.
He wouldn’t begrudge any of his friends their family time, though, and he certainly wasn’t going to make anyone stay behind with him just because he was a little lonely, even if that meant telling Nightstar a few white lies.
He just wished he had somewhere to disappear off to as well.
He forced himself upright and turned on the tv. He tried to lose himself in a horror movie as he fought down memories of Barbara’s hacking lessons, memories of pranks he’d played on the others with Cassandra, memories of patrolling with Damian, memories of Duke helping him with his English homework, memories of early morning coffee and cereal runs with Tim, memories of nail painting gossip sessions with Stephanie, memories of Jay’s… memories of Jason.
He considered checking in with the Titans East, maybe even visiting, but Nightstar definitely would have considered he’d try that and told Speedy to let her know if he contacted them. Considering the friendly rivalry they had going on after defeating the Master of Games, she’d definitely sell him out in a heartbeat.
Patrolling was also out since Irey would still be monitoring the Teen Titans' social media so she’d know instantly if he left the tower, something he wasn’t supposed to do since they were all supposed to take Family Weekend off, even if he stayed in town.
Normally he’d bury himself in work, but he didn’t actually have any open cases right now.
One good thing about Gotham’s crime rate, you never had to worry about not having an open case.
Shut up!
Robin was so distracted trying to distract himself from his intrusive memories, he almost didn’t notice when the air in the room shifted slightly about an hour after Nightstar left. His hand subtly moved to his utility belt, but he let it drop after a second.
He glared to the side as something invisible settled next to him on the couch. “What are you doing here?”
Red X faded into view with a shrug. “The better question is what are you doing here, kid? I was told you lot were clearing out for your little Family Weekend thing.”
“You were told?”
“Alright, so I might have been eavesdropping on Wonder Babe and Zippy.”
“What are you after?” Robin growled. He stood up and drew his staff as he went over everything in the tower and tried to figure out what Red X would consider worth stealing.
“Calm down,” Red X said, leaning back and putting his feet up on the coffee table. “I just ticked someone off and need a place to lie low for a few days. Didn’t plan to take anything.”
“Right,” Robin said sarcastically. “You didn’t plan to take anything.”
Red X chuckled and held up his hands. “Alright, you caught me. Tell you what. You let me stay and I’ll keep my hands to myself from now until Monday.”
“And return what you’ve already grabbed on your way here?”
It was only thanks to his experience with masks that hid the eyes that the hero could tell Red X was rolling his as he pulled a handful of Robin’s feathers and one of his spare expandable bo staffs from the suit’s hidden pockets. He tossed them onto the table, saying, “You really need to learn how to lighten up, kid.”
Robin lowered his weapon, but didn’t put it away. “Who’d you tick off? And how?”
Red X shrugged and relaxed back onto the couch, grabbing the remote. “The old man. One of the others accidentally got hurt during my last score so now the lot of them are out for blood. They found my place in Jump so it was either skip town until I can get a new place or lay low. And I’m pretty sure skipping town is what they want me to do so here I am. Doubt they’ll think to look for me here.”
“Why would they want you to skip town?” Robin asked as he took in the new information. He’d never realized Red X was part of a team. Who was the old man?
“Uh, because then I’ll have to go back home and that’s their turf,” he said slowly, like it was obvious.
“Where are you from?”
Red X paused in his channel surfing and looked up at him. “You don’t know?”
Robin glared at him.
“No, seriously, you don’t know who I am?”
“I thought I made that clear the first time we met.”
“Yeah, the first time, but…” Red X set down the remote and leaned closer. “Kid, when was the last time you talked to your family?”
That was the final straw.
Robin swung his staff at the thief, who flipped out of the way. Through clenched teeth, he said, “I think the fact I’m here during Family Weekend makes it pretty obvious I don’t exactly have a family to talk to.”
Red X struck out with one of his x’s trying to wrench the staff from Robin’s hands. “Shut up, kid. You can play whatever lost bird act you want for the rest of the world, but we both know you’re one of Batman’s toy soldiers.”
The hero snarled and aimed for the thief's head, but he managed to grab it and disarm him before it made contact. “I’m not a Bat just because I trained with them for a time.”
“Sure, kid.”
“I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but I’ve been a hero outside of Gotham longer than I was one there.”
“Oh, I noticed,” Red X said lowly, tossing the staff aside. “What that idiot was thinking letting Flamebird send you all the way across the country right after Batkid got blown up, I’ll never know.”
Robin flinched back at the accusation before his fists clenched at his sides. “Then you’ll be happy to know no one sent me here. It’s just where I ended up when Batman decided he didn’t want to work with me anymore and tossed me out.”
Red X froze and the hero could feel the thief studying him. When he spoke, there was something sharp and venomous in his tone. “He kicked you out.”
“He kicked me off the team, yeah,” Robin said. “He didn’t want me on the team anymore so I found a new one. Like I said, I’m not a Bat. Why does this even matter?”
“He kicked you out,” Red X repeated. Then he was turning on his heel and marching out.
“Where are you going?”
“Forget hiding out. I’m going to go kill Batman. A nice x to the grapple line will solve all our problems.”
Before Robin could move, Red X teleported away.
“Great,” he growled, running his hand through his hair. He grabbed his tablet and ran to the door. As he rode the elevator down to the garage, he checked the security, running the cameras through all the frequency settings. All that came up were two blips, Red X’s entrance and exit.
As he ran up to his R-Cycle, he considered what to do. He couldn’t just do nothing about an honest death threat (and he knew Red X was serious, even he didn’t understand why), but Batman had made it clear he didn’t want Robin getting involved in Gotham. Maybe if he could get to Red X before he left town…
Well, he’d have to hope he could. If not, he’d have to bribe Dove into passing along the message to Oracle or Batgirl the next time she checked in with the Birds of Prey so they could warn Batman. After that, the thief would be completely out of his hands.
He took his R-Cycle out, but only went as far as the nearest highrise before taking to the rooftops. It wasn’t as effective a tactic in the daylight, but it would still limit the amount he was seen so, hopefully, Irey wouldn’t notice he was out.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do. He’d been trying to locate Red X’s hideout since the thief had appeared, but thanks to the invisibility and teleportation abilities granted by the suit as well as the thief’s own skills and the fact Robin still didn’t know what he looked like under the mask, it was slow going. He’d managed to narrow it down to a certain neighborhood after months of work, but patrolling the area didn’t turn anything up so he couldn’t be sure if Red X was there or if he’d already left.
After two hours with no sign of the thief, he decided to head back in. As he rode back up the elevator, he set up a program to track anyone leaving town for Gotham by train or air and double-checked the algorithm he and Virus had set up to search for Red X on traffic cameras. Neither was likely to turn anything up since Red X was too cautious and Oracle was sure to set up her own once the case was handed over to the Bats, but he had to do something in the meantime.
And if it showed them he knew what he was doing…
Of course, none of that mattered when he walked into the main room of the tower to call Dove and found Red X relaxing on the couch.
“Were you seriously lying about killing Batman?” Robin growled. His anger was less about the thief lying and more because he’d fallen for it, but he was still pretty annoyed all the same.
“Nah. I just realized that you being here also means the others didn’t do anything about the old man kicking you out, and wiping out Gotham’s Bat infestation is going to actually take a bit of planning,” Red X said. That same acidic anger tainted his words, but now it was wrapped in a thin veil of restraint. He could see that same fragilely controlled anger in the thief’s body as he came closer, hidden almost perfectly under his relaxed ruse.
“You really think I’m going to just sit back and let you stay here while you’re plotting murder?” Robin said, stepping in front of the thief and crossing his arms.
“Calm down, kid. I’m not going to do any planning here,” he snorted, tilting his head to see more of the tv around the hero.
“That’s not the point.”
“If you’re worried about being an accomplice, then you’ll be happy to hear you couldn’t stop me if you tried.”
Robin pulled out his staff and Red X went stiff.
“Kid, you do not want to fight me right now. Just sit down and watch the movie.”
“Why?” Robin asked, slipping into a fighting stance. “Why are you even going after the Bats?”
“He kicked you out,” Red X growled, the sound of his control cracking slipping in his voice.
“So?”
Suddenly the thief was on his feet and grabbing the front of Robin’s suit.
The hero tried to strike him with his staff, but he deflected the blow and pulled him in until they were nose-to-helmet.
“He kicked you out! He fucking kicked you out! Not even three months after he put a kid in the ground, you were on the other side of the country fighting aliens! Alone!”
“I was-”
“And where are the others? Have you even talked to them? Have they tried to talk to you? They have to know where you are, even if Oracle wasn’t as semi-omniscient as she is! You and your clubhouse are all over the news! Has she or Orphan reached out? Signal? Batgirl? Hell, Tim might be an ass, but I thought he’d at least check-in to make sure you didn’t get killed.”
Robin’s breath caught in his throat and he choked out, “How -”
“Where the fuck was Damian in all this? Did he seriously not say shit about Bruce tossing his fucking kid out?”
Despite his best efforts, he was shaking. He wasn’t sure if it was because Red X somehow knew who the Bats were or because everything he had been burying and reburying ever since he left Gotham was being unearthed and shoved in his face even worse than it normally was during Family Weekend, but he couldn’t breathe.
“You weren’t even at the funeral!”
Robin flinched so hard he’d jerked himself free off Red X’s grip and toppled backward. He slammed his eyes shut against the sting of tears and ducked his head as he took in ragged breaths.
That was not the Bats’ fault. That was all him, and the guilt would always weigh on him.
He’d been selfish, so lost in his own problems that he’d completely forgotten Jason’s funeral. He only even realized he missed it when he spotted the pictures in the news and read about it in the gossip columns. His absence had been noticed, of course. Bruce and Damian told everyone he was sick since it had been before he’d been gone long enough for them to need the boarding school lie, but some didn’t believe it. Dick had read every horrible word there’d been to read.
He deserved it.
As soon as he’d realized his mistake, he’d bought some flowers and spent hours in the cemetery apologizing over and over again, but he knew it’d never make up for what he’d done.
“Don’t you get it? They already let one kid run off and stupidly get himself killed and then they just -”
Robin was on top of Red X in a second, pinning him against the couch. “Don’t you ever talk about Batkid like that! He… What happened to him… You don’t get to talk about him!”
It was meant to come out a snarl, but the tears he was fighting back rang out clearly.
He expected another quip, or for Red X to at least try to fight, but he just stared up at Robin as he went limp in the pin. “Kid…”
“How do you know who they are?” the hero snapped, wanting to focus on something -- anything -- else.
“I’m so sorry. If I’d known they hadn’t told you…” the thief started softly. “I thought…”
“Thought what?”
They just stared at each other for a moment, then Red X raised his hands.
The hero watched for any signs of an attack, but the thief just brought his hands to the helmet. He hit the release and pulled the helmet off.
Robin’s breath caught in his throat for the second time.
Under the helmet was a domino mask, light grey with black outlining the white lenses. Even still, Robin had seen the boy behind the mask in a domino too many times to not recognize him.
He was older, his hair a bit longer and choppier. He had a few new scars and his hair was a white color in the front that was just a little too bright to be natural. It was him though.
“Jay?”
Jason gave a familiar grin as he let the helmet fall to the floor. “Hey, Dickie.”
Robin threw himself off the older boy, scrambling to his feet and pointing his staff at him. “No. Jason’s gone. Dead. I don’t know who you are or why you look like that, but…” Robin was losing the fight against his tears.
“Red Bird,” Jason said softly. He reached out for Robin and the hero swatted his hand away.
“Don’t! You’re-He’s dead! You can’t be him!” Unless… Jason had to be dead. It couldn’t have been a test.
A test he must have failed. That’s why Bruce…
“No. He has to be dead,” Robin said, shaking his head and taking a step back. “He-You wouldn’t have lied to me about that. Not… Not Jason. He wouldn’t.”
“Oh, Dickie.” Jason came forward, ducking under Robin’s strike to pull him into a hug. “It wasn’t a lie, I promise. I did die. I just… got better.”
“Got better?” Robin sniffed and dropped his arms, not returning the hug or pushing away from it as tears filled his eyes and slipped past the mask. “How do you get better from being dead?”
“Heck if I know,” Jason sighed and eased the mask off Dick’s face. As he gently brushed the tears away, he explained, “I just woke up inside my coffin months later. I didn’t… I wasn’t all there so I ended up just stumbling around Gotham for a few weeks until I got brought to a hospital. The step-mom from hell found me there somehow and stole me away to toss me in one of her stupid green pools.”
“She put you in a Lazarus Pit?” Dick hissed, finally hugging his brother back.
“Yeah. Don’t know if she was trying to hurt Bruce and Damian again by screwing up my head or if she was in one of her Maybe they’ll love me this time! moods and honestly thought it would help. I didn’t stick around to find out, just rampaged through the compound until I was able to escape. I managed to make my way back to Gotham, but…” Jason pressed his face into Dick’s hair and took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I expected when I got back, but… I didn’t expect nothing. Bruce was carrying on as usual. Everyone was. And Joker’s just… back in Arkham, ready to escape another day. I died and the only thing that changed was that Damian shipped you off to play with some other kids in California. Except no, he didn’t. Bruce kicked you out! When Damian died, Bruce nearly killed himself in his search for a way to bring him back, to the point that Duke’s gang had to step in to watch the streets and Tim had to step in to watch Bruce. When I died, nothing.”
“Jay -”
“I know I’m not Cassandra ‘Prodigy’ Wayne or Damian ‘Bloodson’ Wayne or Duke ‘Perfect Child’ Thomas or Tim ‘Teenage CEO’ Drake-Wayne, but I thought he’d at least care that I got killed!” Jason snarled, jerking away from Dick to throw his hands in the air before slamming one onto the coffee table, cracking the wood. “I thought he’d at least give a shit about me!”
“Jason -”
He slammed his hand against the table again, and again. “But he doesn’t! Not enough to actually do something about fucking Joker! Not enough to try and bring me back like he did his flesh and blood! He doesn’t care! None of them fucking care about anything but themselves!”
Dick tried to grab his arm, but Jason threw him off.
He turned to the young boy with a glare. “And then you! They just got rid of you! What? Was Bruce so happy to be rid of me he realized he should have cut off the kid acquisitions with Tim? And everyone just agreed with him!”
“Red Wing, please.”
Jason had been taking a step towards Dick, but at his words he spun away. He slammed both his fists into the table with a snarl and it collapsed. He dropped to his knees, breathing heavily.
Dick watched him for a few minutes. Only when Jason stopped shaking and tugging harshly at his hair did he step closer and sit next to his brother. When he wasn’t rebuffed, he pressed their shoulders together. “The pit?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Damian told me how it affects people. Besides, that table gets destroyed so often we start to get antsy if it lasts more than a week,” Dick chuckled and Jason snorted. He nudged his brother gently. “Is this okay?”
“I’d never hurt you, Red Bird,” Jason declared, though a bit of uncertainty leaked into his voice.
Dick set his head on Jason’s shoulder with a frown. “I know. I was asking if you were okay with me touching you.”
The older brother smiled and wrapped his arm around the younger. “I’m always happy to be your pillow.”
“I’m serious, Jay.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “You’re always serious lately.”
“I still know how to have fun,” Dick said. “You just keep catching me in serious situations.”
Jason gave him a disbelieving expression, but before Dick could comment it shifted into a smile. A familiar smile.
That smile promised a lot of fun, but also explosions and weeks of being grounded. It promised lectures from Bruce to Jason about needing to be a better example and from Tim to Dick about how Jason was a bad influence. It promised exasperated yet fond looks from Cass, Babs, and Damian. If Steph was involved, it promised retaliatory pranks when they placed most of the blame on her. If not, then it promised endless complaining for leaving her out. It promised secret smiles from Duke, either because he hadn’t been involved but still thought it was funny or because he had been involved and was thanking them for not ratting him out.
Altogether, that smile promised the best kind of trouble.
“Jay,” Dick started warningly, but Jason just pulled him to his feet.
“Prove it!”
“What?”
“You think you can still have fun, then prove it!” Jason chuckled, grabbing his helmet and towing Dick out of the room. “Let’s go wreck some stuff!”
“Wh-Jay! We can’t -”
“Calm down, we’ll keep it to the bad guys’ stuff so we don’t hurt your delicate sensibilities.”
Dick glanced down at the X on Jason’s suit. “Speaking of which -”
“Nope. That can wait for after Family Weekend. Right now we’re just Red Bird and Red Wing, not Robin and Red X. We can get back to our little cops and robber game when your friends get back.”
Dick knew he should probably argue. Even ignoring the fact Jason had been discussing murder not even half an hour ago, Red X was still a criminal.
But Red X was also a back-from-the-dead Jason and Robin wasn’t allowed to work during Family Weekend.
“Where are we going?” he asked as they stepped out of the elevator onto the residential floor.
“First stop is your room. I left my stuff there since I knew it would be the last place you’d check. One of us should also probably change if we don’t want to raise questions.”
Dick didn’t bother to ask how Jason knew his way around the tower to the point of knowing where his room was. Clearly, he’d been spying on Dick. It was probably something they’d have to talk about later since Dick knew from experience that his teammates would not appreciate it, but it could wait.
“Well you’ve already stolen my clothes once,” Dick pointed out, tugging at Jason’s cape.
Jason rolled his eyes. “If you didn’t want someone to take the suit you should have locked it away better.”
“I put it in a safe!”
“Not a good one.”
Dick slapped his arm. “You were trained by Selina. Your standards are unreasonable.”
“You say that like she didn’t train you too,” Jason snorted then tugged Dick closer so he could wrap his arm around Dick’s shoulder. “I should probably change though. I don’t know how the family will react if they find out we’re hanging out and I’d rather not risk it ruining our weekend. I can take care of them after.”
“Jas-”
“Yep. Sorry. Work talk later. So, Red Bird, you know of any bad guy bases worth ransacking? Or at least an empty factory we can go to town in? I got some new toys I want to try out.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Impulse was tapping her foot in superspeed as she scrolled through her phone.
“And none of you have talked to him since Friday morning?” Wonder Girl asked and she paced across the living area.
“We texted on Saturday, but it was just a quick check-in. He said he was busy, I needed to stop worrying, and he’d see me today,” Nightstar said, not looking up from her book. She seemed for all the world relaxed, but the others had all noticed she hadn’t turned the page in over a half hour.
“There’s still nothing on social media,” Impulse said, refreshing the page. “I found a few mentions just before lunchtime on Friday of someone on the rooftops that could have been him, but that’s it.”
“The same can be said for the news sites,” Virus said from inside the computer. “Robin has not appeared on any of the news sites since our fight with Mother Mae-Eye last week.”
Wonder Girl tried her T-Communicator again and scowled when it wouldn’t connect to Robin’s. “Are you sure he didn’t head over to one of the others’ bases?”
“I had Speedy and Dove on Robin duty so I know he didn’t hit Titans East or North,” Nightstar said.
“And Aquagirl tells Turtle everything so if he’d shown up at Titans South she would have told him and he would have told me so I would know and I don’t so he didn’t,” Impulse said quickly.
Nightstar looked up from her book and squeezed the younger girl’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’ll find him. He probably just took off to do some recon and didn’t tell us because he knew we’d yell at him for not taking the weekend off.”
“He’s going to spend the next week locked in a cell if that’s true,” Wonder Girl huffed. “Then he’ll have no choice but to take a break.”
“Robin would just break out,” Virus argued.
“Maybe I should take a run around the city, just in case,” Impulse said, standing up.
“The tracker on Robin’s R-Cycle showed Robin heading out of the city before the tracker was disabled so Impulse likely would not find Robin by running around the city,” Virus pointed out and the girls turned to his computer.
“You didn’t say anything about him leaving town earlier,” Nightstar said.
“Virus did not think the information was relevant. The information doesn’t help the Teen Titans find Robin since the tracker was disabled before any set destination could be determined.”
“Except we had no idea he’d left town until now! When did this happen?”
“Friday afternoon. Robin le-” Virus cut off as an alert came up. “Oh! Someone just accessed the tunnel leading to the garage.”
“Robin?” Nightstar asked, getting to her feet.
“The people in the tunnel used Robin’s codes, but there are two people and both are on foot. The sensors aren't registering Robin’s gear.”
The girls shared a look and ran for the stars, Nightstar calling over her shoulder, “Meet us down there!”
“On the way!”
Impulse ran down the stairs while Nightstar and Wonder Girl flew down the center. They slipped into the garage to find Virus already waiting. The four took defensive positions behind workbenches and toolboxes just as voices began to reach them.
“You owe me a new R-Cycle. And a new communicator. And -”
Impulse perked up at Robin’s voice, but Nightstar waved her quiet before she could react as a second voice answered, “First of all, how was I supposed to know trying to use your fancy walkie-talkie would break it? Who’s stupid design flaw was that?”
“It’s to prevent it from being stolen and used against the Titans.”
“Okay, that’s actually a good idea, but it’s still not my fault. Second, the paint was your idea! Don’t try blaming that on me.”
“You blew up the crates too soon!”
“No, I didn’t! I told you fifteen minutes!”
“You only gave me fourteen!”
“I gave you fifteen!” the unknown voice yelled as two figures walked into the garage.
The first was obviously Robin, though he was dressed more casually than any of the Titans had ever seen him. Gone was the armored suit, replaced with blue jeans and a red hoodie with a bat insignia over the chest. He still wore his domino mask and steel-toed boots, but the latter was speckled with red paint.
The second boy looked around Nightstar’s age. He was tall and broad, but not bulky. He wore a suit similar to Robin’s, but black and plain. A brown leather jacket was thrown over the top with a red bird patch on the shoulder that matched his red domino mask.
The new boy was scowling at Robin, who was scowling back. Even still, both looked completely relaxed and a smirk was tugging at the new boy’s lips.
“Maybe you need a new watch. Or maybe you just forgot how to count. Did you forget eleven was a thing again?”
The new boy jumped at Robin and instantly the two were brawling, throwing punches left and right and trying to pin each other. The fight was clearly well-practiced, in Wonder Girl’s opinion. Not choreographed or restrained, but instead a flurry of movements that showed how the two knew each other’s fighting style enough to both predict most attacks and roll with those they didn’t. Despite just how rough their roughhousing was, she could see neither was actually trying to hurt the other.
The others didn’t quite catch onto that though as all three darted in to break up the fight. Nightstar grabbed the new boy and pinned him against a workbench while Impulse and Virus placed themselves in front of Robin.
“Woah, what? Titans, stand down. Red Wing, don’t hurt her.”
“Don’t hurt her? I’m the one pinned,” the boy gasped dramatically.
“You’re also the one with the souped-up taser,” Robin deadpanned.
The boy smirked and revealed the device in his hand, which crackled with red lightning. He turned it off and tucked it into his jacket as he winked up at Nightstar. “You know, Princess, if you wanted to get all up close and personal, all you had to do was ask.”
Her eyes glowed purple, but Robin grabbed her arm and pulled her away before she could blast the other boy.
“Don’t flirt with my teammates please,” Robin sighed.
“Not my fault you surround yourself with beautiful girls, Kid,” the boy said as he sat up, winking at Wonder Girl this time.
“Who are you?” she demanded, hand falling to her boleadoras.
“What? Don’t recognize me without the x motif and skull mask? I’m hurt.”
“Red X?” Impulse said, glancing between Robin and the boy.
He gave her finger guns while Robin smacked his forehead.
“What is going on?” Virus asked.
“Well, wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome,” Red X said, stuffing his hand in his pockets. “Family Weekend’s been fun, bro. I’ll let you know when I steal a new cycle for you from the old man so you can tell me if I need to add any bells and whistles. Later.”
“You’re not -” Nightstar started, but cut off as Red X dropped something that caused smoke to flood through the garage. “Impulse!”
“He’s already gone,” Robin sighed.
A moment later the ventilation system kicked in and cleared the air to reveal Robin was right.
The four all turned to him and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Sooooooooo… you spent the weekend with Red X?” Impulse asked.
“It’s a long story.”
“Red X called Robin brother?” Virus said.
“A really long story. The short of it is Red’s just been keeping an eye on me, in his own weird way.”
“He stole your suit,” Wonder Girl said and Robin shrugged.
“So are we just supposed to not go after him if he shows up?” Impulse asked.
“No, this doesn’t change anything about how we treat him in the field.”
Impulse opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. “Kid Flash is right. You Gothamites are insane when you get together.”
Robin shrugged again. He grabbed the duffle bag he’d dropped when he and Red X had started fighting and turned to the elevator. “I need to make a call then we can check in with the others.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dick stared down at his new T-Communicator. He should just call Dove. It would make things easier.
“Barbara Gordon here,” a voice said as the call on the phone in his other hand connected.
Dick took a deep breath and let it out. “Hey, Babs.”
“... Dick?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, I-Hey, how -”
“Jason’s going after Bruce.”
“What?”
“He wants to kill him. He wants to kill the whole family, really, but Bruce seems to be his main focus. Damian too, maybe. I don’t know how much trouble he’s been causing so far, but it’s about to get worse.”
“I-You saw Jason?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine. He didn’t have any reason to do anything.”
“You said he was trying to kill the whole family.”
Dick’s breath caught in his throat and his hand tightened around the phone. “Yeah, well, clearly I’m not part of that.”
“Di-”
“He also might try to steal a motorcycle, but that might have been a joke. You should probably keep an eye out either way,” Dick added then hung up. He turned his phone off when it immediately started ringing. He tossed it into his lockbox and flopped down on his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes.
A few minutes later someone knocked on his door. He shut the lockbox and knocked it back into its hiding spot with his foot before calling for them to come in.
Nightstar slipped in, but just shut the door behind her and leaned against it. She waited a moment before saying, “X isn’t Tim or Duke.”
“Never said he was.”
“But he implied he was and you didn’t correct him.”
“Tim and Duke aren’t my brothers, Mandy.”
“By your logic, you don’t have any family at all. So why is X going around calling you brothers?”
Dick didn’t respond.
“Why’d you spend Family Weekend with him? Why are you wearing a jacket you normally keep locked away with all the other Batman-related things you pretend don’t exist?”
Dick frowned and dropped his hand to his hoodie. “It’s not Batman’s logo.”
“Sure, Dick, and I -”
“It’s Batkid’s.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Oh. Oh shit.”
“Mandy.”
“You think he’s… him.”
“He is.”
“Dick, Jason died.”
“Like I said, long story. He is back. The others know it too, considering the call I just had with Bab-Barbara.”
“You actually talked to her,” she said softly, coming to sit next to him.
“I talked at her. She didn’t get to say much. I just needed to warn her and the others about something Jay said and it’s too involved in our civilian identities to trust the message with Dove.”
“Sure, or maybe you just wanted to hear her voice.”
Dick glared up at her. “I want to hear all of their voices, is that what you want me to say? You know I’m not afraid to admit I miss them, it’s just not going to change anything.”
“Admitting it is the first step,” she shot back. “Now do something about it.”
“They don’t want me, Mandy. I’m not going to go crawling back there just to get shunted back into juvie!”
“You don’t know that’s what will happen.”
“Yes, I do!”
She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up so they were eye to eye. “Aren’t you the one who pushed me to reconnect with my mom?”
“That’s different and you know it,” he said, pushing her hands off.
“Why?”
“She’s your mom.”
“And they’re your family.”
“No, they’re not!”
“Di-”
He stood up. “They know where I am! I’m not trying to hide! I didn’t even change my codename! If any of them wanted to talk to me, Babs could easily contact me! At the very least, she or Steph could have Holly give me the message! Or Damian could ask Jon to pass the message to Eliza and she could give it to me! And yet that call is the only time I’ve heard from any of them since the Fight! Why do you think that is?”
“Because you’re terrible at dealing with emotions when they’re your own and the rest of your family is the same or worse,” she deadpanned.
“Just drop it.”
She sighed and got up to leave. She paused before opening the door. “You’re going to have to deal with this one of these days. Probably sooner than you think if you’re going to keep talking to Jason.”
“Doubtful. He isn’t exactly sitting down for tea with the Bats either right now.”
She shook her head and left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A little explanation of characters mentioned
Teen Titans:
Robin - Richard "Dick" Grayson: Foster son of Damian Wayne (15yo)
Virus - Galv-10 "Galvio" of Gex (~16yo in comparison to human development)
Nightstar - Ma’andkori "Mandy" Grace: Daughter of Kory and Artemis Grace (17yo)
Impulse - Iris "Irey" West: Daughter of Wally West, Twin of Jai (15yo)
Wonder Girl - Yara Flor: Daughter of an Amazon and Brazilian God (16yo)
Other Titans:
Turtle - Jai West: Son of Wally West, Twin of Irey (15yo)
Speedy - Dinah "Di" Harper: Second Daughter of Roy Harper (16yo)
Dove - Holly Hall: Daughter of Hank and Dawn Hall (14yo)
Aquagirl - Mareena: Daughter of Kaldur'ahm (14yo)
Supergirl - Eliza Zor-El/Eliza Lutessa Luthor: Clone of Kara and Lena Luthor (13yo)
Bats:
Batman - Bruce Wayne (49yo)
Catwoman - Selina Kyle-Wayne (50yo)
Oracle - Barbara Gordon (41yo)
Orphan - Cassandra "Cass" Wayne: Eldest Child/Only Daughter of Bruce Wayne (36yo)
Flamebird - Damian Wayne: Oldest Son of Bruce Wayne (26yo)
Nightwing - Jon-El/Jonathan "Jon" Samuel Kent: Partner of Flamebird (26)yo
Signal - Duke Thomas: Second Son of Bruce Wayne (23yo)
Black Bat - Timothy "Tim" Drake-Wayne: Third Son of Bruce Wayne (22yo)
Batgirl - Stephanie Brown (21yo)
Red X - Jason Peter Todd-Wayne: Fourth Son of Bruce Wayne (17yo)
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the hours pass like molasses
Notes: courtesy of @thisauthorisscreaming, the tentative beginnings of a road trip fic, featuring a recurring fake relationship, Mom Shimura and Dad Torino Co-parenting their Summer Child, and for the sake of readers even though I didn’t put it in (yet), Toshinori doing his goddamn best to wingman his mentors into an actual relationship.
*Post Mr.Shimura’s death and Kotarou’s fostering. Road trip fics are kinda about running away from those problems, right? This particular road trip fics need more travelogue vibes, but I wanted to get the first premise down.
WC: 1,441
//
Yagi Toshinori’s first summer break was not, in fact, spent as a vacation. He begged to assist oshishou and Torino instead, as they ventured all the way to Fukuoka and the cities along the way to investigate cold cases and long-dead leads. Although Torino had scowled (he usually scowled, when Toshinori inserted himself into conversations), he said that Toshinori would be a useful cover.
Oshishou had been aghast. She first tried to tempt Toshinori out of the trip, then she warned him that it was not going to be fun. No beaches, no cool breezes, and oshishou couldn’t promise souvenirs.
“We’re building a profile of All for One, Toshinori-shonen,” said oshishou. “We’re not getting into any fights. This is a low-key work-trip.”
“That’s okay! I want to help, however I can!”
“Let the brat help, Shimura,” Torino intervened. They shared a look, one of those looks that Toshinori longed to understand or at least be a part of in the future, because to him, it seemed like Torino just tilted his head and oshishou folded like a house of cards.
“Yeah, yeah, okay, I guess you need to learn how boring stake-outs on the ground can be…”
Toshinori’s guardians had long since signed off on the pro-hero mentorship forms; Isshin waved his hand at Toshinori’s cautious mention of a training trip, and that was that. On the weekend going into summer break, Toshinori packed a duffel bag. He crammed his U.A. gym uniform at the very sides, then waffled back and forth over whether it would be necessary.
He didn’t have an official All Might set of gear yet. The gym uniform was his sturdiest outfit if they did get into scuffles.
Guiltily, Toshinori left the uniform where it was.
When Sunday came, Toshinori picked up his duffel bag and backpack, and he trotted off to the pick-up location, wearing a baseball cap over his hair and a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans. He slowed his pace when he saw the antique, boxy yellow car parked at the entrance. Oshishou sat on the overly-long hood, dressed in civvies, and Torino was leaned against the driver’s door, looking at her. Was that a smile?
“Good morning!” he shouted, picking up the pace. Oshishou turned her head and grinned at the sight of him.
Whatever was pulling at Torino’s mouth, it disappeared in a flash, and Torino had pushed himself off the car and moved to pop open the trunk. Toshinori could see two separate duffel bags: one hot pink, and the other a worn black. His own was navy blue, and slimmer than the others, but there was no sign of their pro-hero gear.
“Sorahiko,” oshishou said in a low voice. She slid off the hood, just as Toshinori got an arm’s length away from the car. Then Torino held up a hand. Toshinori froze.
“Ground rules,” said Torino flatly. Without his domino mask and the opaque white lenses, the murderous intent in his expression was magnified by several degrees. “There is no eating in the car. You will not spill a drop of water in the car. You will not get sick in my car. Clear?”
“Um,” squeaked Toshinori. “Understood, Torino-sensei.”
“It’s okay, Toshinori-shonen, I’ve brought snacks.”
The fierce glare in Torino’s pale brown eyes intensified. Toshinori self-consciously hid half of his face behind his duffel and made a noncommittal sound. In any case, Toshinori was allowed to store his bag in the trunk and climb into the backseat of the two-door car. Experimentally, he tested his leg room by sitting sideways—
“Shoes off the upholstery!” Torino barked upon entering the driver’s seat.
“Take off your shoes and then relax,” oshishou corrected. The anguished look Torino directed at her didn’t budge her stance. “It’s five hours to Kyoto. Let him be.”
“It’s my goddamned car—”
“We could’ve rented,” she reminded him.
In a fit of teenage pique, Toshinori kicked off his shoes and sat sideways with his feet behind Torino. He crossed his arms and glared back, ignoring the pang as Torino glanced at the rearview mirror and snorted. The car rumbled to life and smoothly, Torino got them on the road.
They hadn’t lasted half a minute before oshishou flicked the radio on. Pop music filtered through the speakers, and that soothed Toshinori’s jangled nerves—he was on a road trip! With oshishou and Torino! Cool!—to the point of loosening the tension in his shoulders.
“Hey, Toshinori-shonen, review this.”
A manila folder got passed to Toshinori; he took it carefully, and opened it to see an itinerary and a short profile for… him? His cover story? Civilian, fourteen year old student on summer break, being escorted by family friends back to… various fill-in cities in the south.
“Yamamoto Toshiro,” he tested. He made a face. Weird.
“Toshi-shonen,” oshishou teased him, and Toshinori went pink. “Aw! It’s okay, Toshinori-shonen, I’ll keep to ‘Toshiro-kun.’ How’s that? Better?”
“What about just ‘Toshiro,’” Torino said dryly.
“We’re family friends, I think we have the obligation to treat him with familiarity.”
“T-Toshi-kun works.”
Oshishou startled out of her playful bickering with Torino, and Toshinori shrank into the backseat, regretting every word that slipped his tongue. Too familiar, it was certainly too familiar for what was a master-apprentice relationship.
“Toshi-kun,” she said, thoughtful. “Just for this trip, I think,” and Toshinori wanted to bang his head against what was no doubt a priceless window, “and just ‘Toshinori,’ otherwise.”
A beat of silence, processing with all the speed of a plodding turtle.
“Yes, please,” Toshinori said to his knees, his heart feeling like it had been tenderized and cradled close.
“I’ll stick with ‘brat,’ since that fits my character so well,” Torino threw in unexpectedly. The subsequent banter held between him and oshishou, interspersed with peaceful silences as Toshinori took in the countryside and mountains for the first time, characterized that five hour trip to Kyoto.
Upon reaching the motel on the outskirts of the city, Toshinori was dispatched to claim their reservation. Social anxiety set in as Toshinori nervously approached the counter; the receptionist was popping pink bubblegum.
“Minors can’t buy rooms,” the receptionist snapped.
“I’m—I’m checking in for—for the Yamamotos—”
That was Toshinori’s first fuck-up. He was the only Yamamoto in the group; oshishou had reserved the room under… Oh, what was her pseudonym… At the rising suspicion in the receptionist’s reptilian eyes, Toshinori panicked.
“Sorry! My, my okaa-san, she just adopted me from Tokyo, she reserved the room under Shimura Nanase.”
“Just adopted?”
Damningly, the door opened without Toshinori hearing it, because he was committing his second fuck-up of the day. He gazed right into the receptionist’s eyes and glibly babbled his head off.
“Y-yeah, my okaa-san and otou-san, they finally got the paperwork in, and, and it’s been so long, y’know? Otou-san brought out his fancy car, and drove himself and okaa-san all the way up to Tokyo, and now I’m finally gonna have a home. I still, um, have to file the application to change my name, but I wanna wait until otou-san marries okaa-san, they’re so busy, they wanted to have me at home safe before they even got married—”
“Alright, kid,” the receptionist said, overwhelmed. They directed their next words over Toshinori’s shoulder, and Toshinori felt his stomach drop at the words, “You two adopted a real chattermouth, huh?”
He slowly turned his head to see oshishou and Torino, staring at Toshinori.
Oshishou recovered first. “He’s got a way with words, our Toshi-kun,” she said brightly and came to the counter, ruffling Toshinori’s hair. It was meant to comfort, which was truly a small reassurance once Toshinori peeked again at Torino. The vibes coming off Torino meant that the pro-hero desperately wanted to kick Toshinori’s ass.
‘When’s the wedding?”
“Ahahaha,” said oshishou.
“Next July,” Torino answered, gruffly. He stepped to Toshinori’s other side, and for one insane moment, Toshinori was sandwiched between two of his heroes that he desperately wanted for his parents, oh no. His ears burned, as did his face, and he ducked his head, using the baseball cap visor to shield his eyes.
He tuned back into the conversation when the receptionist sarcastically asked if they truly needed three beds (as oshishou had requested over the phone), or if the two provided were sufficient. Toshinori connected the dots in his head, and his eyes widened at the implication.
“That’ll work out fine,” oshishou said. “Turns out, that, uh, time of month just ended,” she winked conspiratorially. “So we can share beds again!”
“Key. Please,” Torino ground out.
Toshinori prayed that the next few days would not result in his untimely death.
#bnha#nanahiko#yagi toshinori#all might#torino sorahiko#gran torino#shimura nana#shih.txt#d-december#who's panicking more? toss-up between all three#roadtrip!au
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FO4 Romanced Companions (+Maxson) React: SS saying "I can't do this" before having a breakdown over something that seems so small.
I’m sorry this took so long! I honestly had some pretty bad writer’s block. I’ve been working on this on and off for several weeks. I was finally able to finish the last few companions though, so we’re golden! Please enjoy!
FO4 (❤️) Companions (+Nick, Deacon, & Maxson) React: Sole Having a Breakdown
Preston:
After walking in an uncomfortable silence for several hours, Preston decided to address it. He turned around to see Sole lagging behind.
“Babe, is everything alright?” the Colonel asked, concerned, “You haven’t been yourself today.”
Sole frowned and looked at the ground.
“[Name]?”
Sole lugged themself over to their lover and collapsed in his arms. Preston was surprised, but immediately composed himself.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he cooed, “Let it out.”
“I can’t do this!” Sole sobbed.
Preston held Sole and let them cry. A part of them wondered if he had overwhelmed them by asking them to help so many settlements back-to-back.
“[Name], I love you. And if you’re ever feeling down or overwhelmed, just know that I’m always going to be here for you.”
Sole mustered a smile and Preston gave them a gentle peck on the cheek.
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”
Piper:
“Hey slowpoke! Hurry up,” the reporter teased, “I don’t have all day!”
Sole frowned and ignored the comment. They were too busy trying contain themselves. Unfortunately, the lack of an answer concerned Piper.
“Blue? Why so quiet? You always have a killer clapback.”
Sole— who could no longer hold back their tears— looked at the ground.
“I can’t do it.”
“Oh, Blue. Do what?” Piper asked, “Come here.”
The reporter wrapped her arms around her lover and held them close.
“It must be exhausting running around the Commonwealth 24/7. You need a break.”
Sole grunted and Piper shook her head.
“You’re not changing my mind. You need a break. Why don’t we do something fun? We can shop around Diamond City for a bit and then get some dinner?”
Sole eventually complied and the reporter beamed.
“Great! Oh man, this is so exciting! I don’t think I’ve ever been on an actual date with you, Blue!”
Cait:
Cait noticed the absence of her partner and turned around.
“Darlin?”
Sole had crumbled to the ground, tears streaming down their face.
“Ah, don’t ye start blubberin on me,” Cait whined.
Sole‘s face twisted.
“What’s the matter?”
“I can’t do this!” Sole burst, causing the redhead to shift uncomfortably.
Cait thought about what Sole had been doing lately, and immediately realized that Sole’s breakdown was stress-induced. The concerned redhead pulled her lover into her arms.
“Well, I have to give ye credit; I couldn’t even imagine runnin mission after mission. I’m sure it wears ye down.”
Sole nodded and Cait continued to hold them.
“I know I’m gonna sound like a damn hypocrite for sayin this, but you should focus on takin care of yerself. I love ye, and I’d hate to see ye run yerself into the ground.”
MacCready:
“Didn’t realize we’d be walking at turtle speed today,” MacCready called, “Maybe if you didn’t pick up every teddy bear you saw—”
He turned to see Sole looking down, shoulders slumped.
“[Name]?” The merc asked, concerned, “Are you…crying?”
Sole turned away from him.
“Aw come on, I was just teasing you,” MacCready reassured, wrapping an arm around their shoulder and pulling them close, “I don’t actually mind carrying your bears. I’ve got four on me as we speak.”
Sole looked at him, tears streaming down their face.
“I can’t do this!”
“Do what?”
Sole didn’t answer.
“Come on, I’m going to need some context here,” the merc pled, “Tell me what’s wrong, beautiful. I want to help you.”
Sole collapsed into their lover’s arms and began sobbing into his shoulder. MacCready held Sole, and it dawned on him that they might be having a stress-induced breakdown.
“[Name], you’ve been through so much. You need to take a break.”
Sole stared at their lover for a few moments before nodding in agreement.
“Why don’t we head back to Goodneighbor for a little while? We can get some drinks at the Third Rail and hang out with Hancock. I’m sure he’d be glad to see you.”
Sole, managing to crack a small smile, agreed, and the pair made their way toward the city.
Gage:
“Boss, why’re ya draggin your feet? Ya good?”
Sole didn’t answer. They weren’t sure they could speak without breaking down.
“Boss?”
Gage approached his lover cautiously, unable to figure out what was wrong.
“You can tell me if there’s somethin botherin you. I promise I won’t pick on ya like I do Mason because, yanno, I actually like you.”
With that, Sole threw themself into the Raider’s arms. He awkwardly held them as they cried into his chest.
“Hey, what’s the deal? Did someone mess with you? Do I gotta go kill somebody?”
Sole shook their head.
“I can’t do this!”
Gage cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out what Sole meant. After a few seconds, he finally spoke again.
“You stressed, babe,” he asked softly.
Sole nodded and to their surprise, Gage held them tighter.
“Yeah, I feel. It can be rough. But ya know what? You’re doin a hell of a good job. And I’m proud of ya. No shit.”
Sole looked up at him, and the Raider smirked.
“Now enough of this…er…mushiness. Let’s get back to business, yeah?”
Deacon:
Deacon noticed his partner’s absence and looked around. He spotted them a little ways out and and cupped his hands.
“Hey [name]! Why’re you moving so slow? Did you stub your toe or something?”
Sole looked up, but they weren’t smiling. Deacon knew something was wrong.
“C’mooon!” he pressed, approaching his lover and loosely throwing an arm around them, “Turn that frown upside down!”
Sole immediately started bawling and threw themself into their lover’s arms. The Railroad agent jumped a bit.
“Woah! Hey, are you alright? Was it something I said?”
Sole shook their head.
“I can’t do this!”
“[Name], it’s going to be okay,” Deacon stated, genuinely concerned, “You can talk to me, you know. I’m here for you!”
Sole continued to cry and Deacon stayed by their side the entire time, sympathetically rubbing their back.
“C’mon, you can get through this,” he reassured, “Are you stressed? Is that what the problem is?”
Sole nodded and Deacon thought for a moment.
“Well. Then how about we take a few days off? We can’t have you burning out!”
Sole looked at the ground.
“The world won’t burn to the ground if you relax for, like, 72 hours. Besides! We should do something fun. I think a date night is well overdue, babycakes.”
Sole rolled their eyes at the nickname, but liked the idea of having a fun little vacation with their lover.
Nick:
“Are you feeling alright, [name]? There’s something…off.”
Sole shook their head and Nick chuckled.
“Dear, I think you’re forgetting I’m a detective. I read body language for a living. Now please— if you’re comfortable, of course— would you mind telling me why you’ve been so quiet? Is there any way I can help you?”
Sole made eye contact with their lover and tears immediately began streaming down their cheeks.
“Honey?”
Sole sniffled and the detective opened his arms. Accepting the gesture, Sole latched onto their lover and cried into his jacket.
“I can’t do this.”
Nick gently rubbed Sole’s back and kissed the top of their head.
“Shh, it’s alright. Deep breaths, okay? Let’s try to calm down.”
Sole obeyed and tried to control their breathing.
“You’re obviously…stressed. Beyond that, even,” he commented, concerned, “Dear, you need to take care of yourself. Everyone needs a break, including you.”
Sole loomed up at their lover and he brushed aside strands of hair that were matted to their tear-soaked face.
“Why don’t we head back to Diamond City and have a relaxing little break, alright? We can stay at the agency. I’m sure Ellie will be delighted to see you again.”
Sole nodded and Nick looked relieved.
“Glad to see you’re onboard with this. Now how does Power Noodles for dinner tonight sound?”
Sole beamed and the detective gave them a quick kiss.
“Alright then. Lead the way.”
Curie:
“My love? Are you alright,” Curie called, backtracking toward Sole, “Are you fatigued?”
Sole shook their head, but Curie still looked concerned.
“Please, my dear, eef zomething is wrong I want to ‘elp you,” She stated, wrapping her arms around Sole, “‘ugging ees biologically good for ze mind, body, and zoul! Did you know?”
Sole immediately broke down and their lover held them tighter.
“Shhhh…” the synth soothed, rubbing Sole’s back, “Oh, [Madame/Moniessier]. I knew you were noyt yourzelf today.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Ah. You must be zo ztressed. I can’t even imagine.”
Sole continued to cry as their lover held them.
“But my dear. I ‘ave a zurprise for you.”
Sole let go of theirlover as she fished through her bag. After a few moments, she pulled out a flakey golden pastry with a red filling.
“You zaid you ‘ave a sweet tooth, [Madame/Moniessier], and I knew you were veeling down. Zo
I managed to make zome yummy tarberry tarts zis morning bevore you woke up!”
Sole looked down at the dessert, and then at their lover who was beaming. The tears of sadness quickly turned into tears of gratitude as they pulled Curie into a tight embrace.
“I’m pleased to zee zat you’re mood ‘as improved, my dear,” Curie exclaime, planting a kiss on Sole’s cheek, “I love you zo much!”
Hancock:
“Ya still back there, hot stuff?” Hancock chuckled, looking over his shoulder at his lover who was lagging behind.
Sole nodded and picked up their speed a bit. When the finally caught up to the ghoul they smiled, but their lover could tell something was off.
“You good, gorgeous?”
Sole nodded.
“You sure? I sense some pain behind those eyes.”
Sole knew the gig was up, and they immediately dropped the facade. They fell into Hancocks arms and bawled into his jacket.
“I can’t do this.”
Hancock frowned and held his lover close, rocking them slightly.
“It’s gonna be okay. You’ve just gotta...chill out a bit. Take a break. Relax.”
Sole looked up and the ghoul wiped away some stray tears. He then smiled.
“How about we head back to Goodneighbor, yeah? We can just chill out, do some chems, have a good time. You dig?”
Sole nodded and Hancock smirked.
“Excellent! That’s what I like do hear.”
Danse:
“…And at this pace we should reach our next checkpoint by 19:00.”
Danse turned around and noticed Sole lagging far behind. This was unusual.
“[Name]? Are you alright?”
Sole nodded and tried to force a smile, but their face immediately fell as tears cascaded down their face.
“I can’t do this!”
Danse felt an immediate pang of guilt.
“I’m sorry. Did I push you too hard?”
Sole shook their head and Danse frowned. He approached his lover and pulled them into a tight hug, rubbing their back to soothe them.
“You haven’t taken a break since you destroyed the Institute, have you?”
Sole muffled a ‘yes, I have’ into their lover’s chest, and Danse immediately pulled away.
He looked at Sole sternly.
“Don’t lie to me, soldier.”
Sole sighed in defeat; they knew they’d been caught. Danse frowned and enveloped them again.
“The checkpoint can wait until tomorrow. We can bivouac here for the night,” he stated, “You need to take a break.”
Sole looked up at him, as if about to argue, and he gave them a gentle peck on the nose.
“That’s an order.”
Maxson:
“How’re you holding up back there, Sentinel,” the Elder asked, concerned, “You have a distinct lack of energy today. I’m a bit worried.”
Sole tried to deny that anything was wrong, but their words got caught in their throat.
“If there’s anything I can do to make you feel better, please let me know.”
At that moment, Sole threw themselves into Maxson’s arms and started sobbing.
“Sent— [name]! What’s the matter? Why are you so upset?”
“I can’t do this!”
Maxson firmly held Sole’s shoulders and crouched to make direct eye contact with them.
“Whatever’s troubling you, [name], please let me know. I want to help you.”
Sole sniffled, but Maxson held their gaze.
“Is it stress-related?”
Sole nodded and Maxson closed his eyes. He pulled his lover into a firm embrace.
“I’m sorry. For making you do assignment after assignment. I understand you’re long overdue for some R&R, and I can respect that. Please take a rest. It’s painful to see a [man/woman] as strong as yourself fall apart.”
#fallout 4#fallout#fo4#react#danse#paladin danse#hancock#maccready#deacon#maxson#cait#curie#piper#valentine#nick valentine#preston garvey#elder maxson#gage
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Secret of the Darkened Seas
Welcome to Chapter 3! I want to say thank you Olivia ( @asunshinepuff ) who is my best friend and co-author, for inviting me to create this wonderful story with her! This chapter contains many original characters created by Olivia and myself.
This chapter holds many new faces to join us in our mermaid adventure! All credit for creation goes to each other for our respective characters because we have both spent a lot of time creating our ocs and I would dare to take credit for any of Olivia’s characters.
Small warning, there is a minor character death.
As always these chapters contain hidden mermaid lore included within this storyline. They will be explained overtime so don’t worry. The lore from the different types of merfolk will be taken from the book “The Secret World of Mermaids” by Francine Rose. We are not taking credit for her work.
Now without further adieu!
Chapter 3: A Sea of Fireworks
Three years passed as The Dragon’s Pearl sailed the seven seas. There had been many fierce battles and grand adventures as Remus learned the ways of the sword from both Captain Hua and First mate Sandoval. During the past few years, Remus found a particular fondness for literature that grew further than when he was younger. Along the way there have been many new companions to join the shipmates, and the secrets of a certain young man were revealed. A year on his own at sea taught Remus many things, but he couldn’t help but miss the company of those upon The Dragons’ Pearl. Now at seventeen years old, the once young boy has grown into a fine young man.
Under the sea, there was a mythical creature with bright shimmering amber scales, varying in shades of accent tones from the top of his tail, to his fluke. The moonlight breached the surface of the darkened sea, the light reflected off of his amber eyes, as if they began to shine and glow under the moon’s pale beauty. The mer turned down before his arms moved forwards as he dived down deeper into the sea. The deeper he went, the darker it became. As he reached the sea floor, he swam at a leisurely pace, brushing a clawed hand against the sea grass. Looking up, the sea grass became littered with life, crabs, small, fish, seahorses, an octopus, and coral. He chuckled to himself as the fish scattered when he swam near them, a green sea turtle by his side seemed to follow him, wherever he went. It had felt too long since he had last been in the sea.
The merman’s head turned sharply upwards as he picked up the sound of a muffled screeching noise coming from the surface. Then a muted bang before a flash of scattered gold light. With a strong flick of his tail, the floor beneath him vanished from sight as he neared the surface.
Breaching from the water, he looks up to the familiar ship with concern, “Opal! What’s happening?!” He yells up to the deck.
In an instant, a tall beautiful Greek woman, around the age of twenty-three, with long light brown hair, hazel green eyes, lightly tanned skin peered over the railing of the deck to respond. She was dressed in a sea blue off the shoulder long sleeved shirt that was tucked into her light brown pants, with a black corset vest on top, and black boots. At her hip was a wide sword with a dark blue sheathe, and it’s hilt had the detailing of a trident. “Min-Jun received a letter! We have to make port in Portland! The Blacks and Greyback have been spotted off the coast of Dorset!” She lowers the rope ladder and opens the small gate, “Get your tail up here!”
Remus catches the ladder with ease and pulls himself up onto it, “What’s the sudden hurry? We’re currently off the coast of Dorset ourselves.” He comments, looking back up to his friend.
“Quinn’s family lives in Portland, and he thinks they’ll be going after them!” Opal replies, tossing down a blanket for Remus to dry his scales with.
Remus winces as the blanket lands upon his head, frowning as it blocks his view. Pulling the soft cloth from his head, he sets to work on drying himself and his scales, “But why would they go after his family?” He yells out.
Opal pauses, a somber look upon her face as she watches Remus make his way up the rope ladder with his two legs, scales now nowhere to be seen. She shakes her head as he reaches the deck, “I don’t know. But I think something’s wrong.”
Two quarters of an hour pass with The Dragon’s Pearl sailing at full speed to Portland. The sea seemed to be at their side that night, the sound of cannon fire reached the members of the crew. The lifeboats were lowered with First mate Sandoval and Remus inside one of the boats.
Remus’ eyes widened when he saw the pitch black sails of The Ophiuchus which could barely be seen from a distance. The ship’s colors had a black flag with a white skull with a snake coming out of an eye socket. The Blacks. The ancient pirate ship passed down from generation to generation of Blacks. Rumors and tales continuously traveled from sailors aboard many ships about the family, the ship gaining the nickname of Grimmauld amongst the gossiping sailors. Remus had heard many tales himself in the past. The Blacks were ruthless in their pliage for gold, leaving no survivors. There were tales of The Ophiuchus battling The Dragon’s Pearl when Captain Orion Black attempted to steal the other Captain’s ship. Although Captain Hua was young, he forced the Blacks to flee when their ship suffered too much damage. The Captain of The Dragon’s Pearl had given them a warning years ago that should he ever see them again, he would kill the Captain of The Ophiuchus.
The boats reached the docks before everyone ran up to the small town of Portland. Quinn cut down any pirate who foolishly stood in his way. Remus followed close behind, sword drawn at the ready and cut down any pirate who tried to go after Quinn whilst the man’s back was turned. Remus had grown used to the occasional battle, but hardly ever were the stakes this high. Opal and Captain Hua had stayed on the ship with a skeleton crew, while the other sailors joined Remus and Quinn to shore.
Remus stopped in his tracks when one of the pirates was running straight for him. With the sword in his hand, Remus quickly stabbed the pirate in the abdomen before pulling his sword free and running to catch up with Quinn. Who was running up a hill towards the Lighthouse faster than Remus had ever seen the man move. Up close the Lighthouse was rather beautiful for it’s old age, time had been kind to it, yet the years have clearly made their marks all throughout the house. The lighthouse more than likely had many stories to tell. Standing tall with red and white patterns, a small quaint cottage at the base of the lighthouse became visible as Remus neared the property. The house was alight with shadows dancing across the windows as pirates breached the door, the sound of clanging swords could be heard coming from inside the house. Quinn cut down pirates until he finally managed to enter the house.
Quinn’s eyes widened as he surveyed the state of the house, there were countless pirates from both the Black’s and Greyback’s sailors engaged in sword fights. There was hardly a break as he entered the fray of battle, cutting down unsuspecting men from behind and never letting his guard down.
A middle aged woman with black hair tied into a messy bun, bright brown eyes, fair skin and rosy lips gripped the rapier in her hand tightly as she slashed down another pirate. She twirled expertly, her white nightgown and dark robe twirling with her, to dodge a blow from another pirate before she stabs them, she pulls the sword free before she raises it to the man who just entered the cottage, freezing as her eyes widen in surprise. “Quinn!” She exclaimed before her eyes darted to a pirate behind him who began to stir awake.
He smiles at the exclamation before following her line of sight, turning behind him he sees the pirate that began to stir awake. Flipping the hilt of his sword in hand, he stabs the newly conscious pirate in the chest before turning back to the woman, “Mother are you alright?” He looked over the cottage, objects just laying scatter on the floor before he looked back to his mother.
“I’m perfectly alright, it’s your father I’m worried about, that blasted Greyback cornered him to the basement!” The woman turned her gaze to the young man who just reached the door, quickly assessing him before offering him a small nod. “And you must be Remus.”
Remus nods in return, “I am. How did you-” He cuts himself off as the answer was obvious and gives his First mate a pointed look, “Quinn. You’ve told them about me haven’t you?”
“Remus. Who do you take me for? Of course I did.” Quinn mirrors the same pointed look back, “How else do you think Min-Jun and I were able to help you as a child?” He looks back to his mother, “We better move quickly. Hopefully father is using the basement to his advantage.”
“Quinn, this is your father, of course he is.” The woman turns to a door that leads to a staircase to the basement. Quickly lifting her skirt the woman rushed down the stairs.
The three rush down the stairs and into the large dimly lit basement, which could only be described as a very large study with storage. Bookshelves lined the walls and the shelves themselves were stacked with a variety of mythical things one would only believe to be within the tales. Color bottles and vials littered the shelves of the room, various plants were in every corner of the room. In the center of the basement, a large man with a cutlass scoured the room with a harsh glare for the man who was hiding. The man wielding the cutlass was large, nearly the height of Min-Jun and Quinn, he had a vicious looking face, with very long matted grey hair in dreads, a scar going across his right eye, the iris pale compared to it’s twin which was pitch black. His left ear had a gold hoop earring, his teeth were visible as he sneered at others who interrupted his dual.
Remus’ eyes could only widen as he looked upon the large man, his breathing quickening and grip tightening on his sword. Every part of him grew defensive and fearful, his instincts screaming at him to get out. To run. He’s heard of this man before, Fenrir Greyback, notorious and ruthless hunter of mers alike, capturing and selling mers for profit, or simply to just experiment on them. Other times he’d simply slaughter any merfolk he could find.
Greyback’s knuckles looked raw and battered with blood as he gripped his weapon tightly, his long yellowish nails were easily spotted as his right hand pressed against his chest, a wound with fresh blood seeping through his grey shirt. “This isn’t over.” He snarled before he ran out the basement door.
Hidden behind a bookcase, was a middle aged man with tousled red-brown hair with long bangs parted to the left, light colored skin and blue eyes. He wore a simple navy blue shirt underneath a grey robe, light brown pants and dark brown boots. Eyes trained as he watched the burly man closely, sword drawn at the ready to continue the duel. He made no notion to move as Greyback snarled in warning, back pressed flush against the wood until he could hear the pounding footsteps a safe distance away.
Relaxing marginally, he exits his retreat behind the bookcase and sighs, “That man is repulsive.” He mutters under his breath.
“You’re not wrong about that father.” Quinn chuckles as he gently pats his father’s shoulder.
“Why would Greyback come all the way out here? Why would he attack you?” Remus looked at the older man.
“Probably because my husband has something he wants.” The older woman looks to her husband. “Are you alright?”
The older man looks to his wife and nods, “I’m alright. If anything Greyback’s in much worse shape. That wound is going to leave quite a scar if untreated.”
“What was he after?” Remus looked between the older couple.
“Something no one should know exists.” The woman looked around the room. Muttering under her breath at the state of the room. “But rumors are a powerful thing, especially when they hold truths.”
“And especially if it makes you incredibly well known in the nautical world.” The man continued with a sigh. Moving aside his robe, he pulls free a rather thick leather book from an inner pocket and looks down to it. “He’d be a fool to think I’d just leave it lying about.”
Remus’ eyes looked over the leather book. At first glance it was nothing out of the ordinary, but Remus knew better than to judge a book by its cover. It was what’s inside the book that Greyback took a slash to the chest in order to obtain. And failed. Whatever information that was contained inside the book was important. Why else would such a siege upon this small home occur? Enough to bring both Greyback and the Blacks themselves here.
“This book is the only one in existence.” The woman looked at Remus as she stood beside her husband. “It’s about your kind.” Gently taking the book from her husbands’ hands, she holds the book to Remus. “My husband wrote everything he learned about the magical creatures of the sea.” She smiles as she encourages Remus to take the book.
“About my kind…” He repeats at a whisper before a realization comes to mind, amber eyes widening at the thought, “That’s why he wanted the book. To hunt more merfolk.” A cold shudder runs down his spine at the thought of Greyback getting his hands upon this book. No wonder the older man fought to protect it with his life. Mers alike would be in even more danger than in the past. And after seeing the man in person, Remus felt as though the rumors didn’t give any accurate insight as to how gruesome the pirate actually appeared, and the snarling tone of his voice would most likely echo in his mind for days.
At the older man’s nod in confirmation, he looked back at him. “How long have you been working on this?” Remus asked as he took the book, with careful hands.
“Many years. I was a bit younger than you when I first started writing the beginning pages.”
Remus looks down to the worn leather book and opens to a well kept page, Fantastic Nautical Creatures, by Newt Scamander. Remus’ eyes widen at the title and familiar name, pausing mid turn of a page. Wait. Remus looks to Quinn with wide eyes, before he looks back to the older couple.
“You’re Newt Scamander,” He looks to the woman, “And you’re Porpetina Scamander!”
“Please, call me Tina dear.” She rubs Remus’ arm in a comforting manner.
Remus looks to Quinn, an unreadable expression upon his face. Quinn had called them mother and father. That means… “You’re their son?!”
“Quinton Scamander is my real name.” Quinn answered with a simple shrug. “Sandoval was the first thing I could come up with when you asked for my name. I’m not exactly used to keeping an alias.” He looks at his parents. “Why couldn’t you have just kept it at Quinn?”
“And leave the Scamander tradition of giving horrible names? I couldn’t possibly.” Tina chuckled.
“Oh, you wound me mother. What a way to keep tradition.” Quinn replies with a wince.
“It’s not like my family did any better.” Tina retorts just as the sound of cannon fire boomed, echoing throughout the basement. Tensing, everyone turned their heads to the back door, and with a nod from Newt, they exited the damaged basement and headed to the cliffs.
As the group ran back towards the shoreline, Remus could see The Dragon’s Pearl exchanging cannon fire with The Ophiuchus. The ships both suffered blows from the other, only The Dragon’s Pearl wasn’t on fire. And what appeared to be Min-Jun, swinging on a rope, from the Ophiuchus back to the Dragon’s Pearl.
Quinn only groaned at the sight. “And he gives me lectures about swinging from rope.” Hypocrite. “Why are you like this…” He mumbled under his breath.
Tina and Newt only chuckled as their son scowled at the captain. They ran to the docks just as the Ophiuchus began to make their retreat, and the Dragon’s Pearl making its way to the loading docks. Opal was the first rush down to welcome Quinn and Remus back.
Quinn had a strange feeling, one that he couldn’t place as he looked over Opal. Relieved that the woman wasn’t injured in the crossfire, although he was well aware that she could easily handle herself. “Ti synévi?” What happened? He asked.
“To shorten it: Min-Jun snuck onto Greyback’s ship, found two mermaids. Brought them back, then proceeded to sneak onto the Ophiuchus, rescue the second Black heir and brought him back.” Opal said with a shake of her head, “How he managed that… I have no idea.”
“Sounds about right.” Newt replied with a chuckle.
The older couple looked at their son, who had never told them he learned and spoke greek. Newt and Tina looked to each other before sharing a knowing smile. Tina looked to the woman with the greek accent. “I’m Tina Scamander, Quinn’s mother. I wonder why my dear son would fail to mention a lovely lady such as yourself in his letters?” She turns her head slowly to glare at Quinn, who found the sea far more interesting at the moment. Tina looked back to the young woman. “What is your name dear?”
Opal watched Quinn’s gaze quickly turn to the sea in embarrassment. Oh this awkward man. She fought the urge to tease the poor man she loved, there was time to mess with him another time. Not in front of his parents. She smiled as she looked at Tina. “Opal Teresi. It’s nice to meet you.”
Remus looked to Quinn with a teasing smirk, “Really? You mention me in your letters but not Opal?”
“Shut. Up.” Quinn says with wide eyes that seemed to promise pain with an unnaturally wide smile.
“You’ll have to write to me dear, Quinn hardly ever writes what’s going on in his life. I have to rely on Min-Jun for that.” She tsks she pats Opal’s hand affectionately.
“I will.” Opal replies with a nod.
“May I see them?” Newt asks the young woman. “The mermaids.”
The young woman pauses for a moment and looks to Newt, “They’re terrified, so yes, please. If there’s any way you could help.”
“Maybe I can get them to calm down?” Remus suggests looking to Opal and Newt.
“That may be for the best.” Opal agrees, “We better hurry aboard, Min-Jun wants to leave as soon as possible. Before the Blacks notice their son is missing.”
Opal leads the group to the cabins, walking past many doors until they finally stop at one door with a circular window. Remus peered inside and froze when a pair of glaring eyes locked to his. Inside the room, there was a tall beautiful asian woman with wet long dark brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin and bright red lips. She looked to be about Opal’s age. Her tail was a dazzling array of soft blue scales that looked like mis-shapened spots, with white scales as the base, her flue was nearly a translucent shimmery white. Her skin was pale, her arms were wrapped tightly around the smaller mer. Her tail coiled around them protectively. Remus’ nearly gasped. The mermaid only clutched the child tighter, her glare never leaving Remus’ face.
The mer in her arms was tiny. A child, who couldn’t have been older than four. The mer child had short soft silky black hair that was in a disarray, brown eyes, light sun kissed skin. The child clung tightly to the older mermaid's neck, their tail had pale teal and shimmery white scales with the same patterns as the older mermaid, safely tucked under her arms. The mer child’s shoulders were shaking, pearls littered the blankets beneath them. Tears. They sat alone in the room, laying on top of a few spare blankets for the cabin beds.
Remus’ gaze was pulled away at the sound of running footsteps, a sailor running past them in haste, to the infirmary. On impulse, Remus followed the sailor as they walked through the door.
There Min-Jun sat on a chair, looming over a deathly still figure, his face pale. Min-Jun was holding the still figure’s hand.
Remus gulped, scared to find out who the figure was. “Who…”
Min-Jun looked up to see Remus. With pained eyes he looked back down to the figure. Gently putting the cold hand to rest on their chest.
“Ethan’s dead.”
#wolfstar#remus lupin#sirius black#remus x sirius#quinn scamander#min-jun hua#opal teresi#newt scamander#tina goldstein#minor character death#mysterious mers#orion black#fenrir greyback#asunshinepuff ocs#epithymiahua ocs#our ocs#pirate captain#pirate and mermaid au
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To Infinity: Part Three
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, sadness, humor, time jumps, 18+, nsfw, canon typical warnings, a bit of everythings. You may not read this story if you are under 18.
Tagging: @holyhumorliteraturelight @crushedbyhyperbole
1944
Peggy greeted you with a wide smile matching your own. The knowing look in her eye reflected yours, only making you smile wider. “How did Steve react?” You ask.
“Much like Bucky did.”
“So, he froze like a deer in headlights?”
“Absolutely.” She laughs. “Nothing better than making Captain America blush like a schoolgirl.”
“I can’t argue with that, much.” You look at her, the glow from last night still present, even if only slightly. “Although, making the ladies-man stumble over words like one is pretty great too.”
“I bet it is.”
~
The small reprieve didn’t last though. The way to Poland was already underfoot and even with your newfound happiness from Bucky, the war weighed heavy on you. You loved it, the sense of purpose, the feeling of protecting people, but you hated that everything else stuck with you far longer than you wanted.
“You okay doll?”
“Of course, just thinkin’ Buck.” You only recently started using the nickname for his nickname, courtesy of Steve. Somehow, it always seemed to put Bucky at ease when you said it.
“Care to tell me what you’re thinkin’ ‘bout?”
“No.”
“Alright.”
“Do you miss it? The simplicity of before all this.” You don’t look at him when you ask, can’t really.
“Yeah. I miss trying to keep Stevie out of trouble, I miss the mindless dates I set us both up with, I miss the carefree nature of everything.”
“Me too. I love what we’re doing, the helping people part, I just hate everything else. I don’t like taking lives, but I know I have to.”
“I get it.” He slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling close while you walk. “I hate it too. I know I enlisted –”
“Don’t lie to be Bucky. I’ve seen your tags, and I have my own. I know the number for people who enlisted and people who were drafted. You were drafted.”
“I’m sorry.” He mutters, burying his face in your hair.
“Nothin’ to be sorry for. You had no control over it.”
“You can’t say anything to Steve. He doesn’t know.” He pleads.
“I won’t, but you should tell him.” You hug his waist, trying to calm the nerves you can feel rolling off him.
“I know. I will. Just maybe when this is all over.”
“Another thing to add to the list then?”
“The list? What list?”
“I distinctly remember you telling me that after all this we were gonna get married, get a dog, and then maybe have a couple of kids. Telling Steve was just added.”
“I distinctly remember you not giving me answer either.”
“Well, I am now.”
~
The team had three days before the next mission was due. Three whole days. It didn’t use to be a lot, but now it feels like two weeks. Bucky was excited, said he finally got to treat his girl, with what you didn’t know. When he walked you up to a fairly nice-looking lodging though, you started to get the idea.
“Bucky?”
“I said I wanted to treat you, didn’t I?” He smiles.
“That you did. But how?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I am to going to worry about. This place looks expensive.”
“It kinda was.”
You huff but know you won’t be getting the price out of him anytime soon, if at all. “So, Sarge, what did you have planned?”
He practically growls at you. “I plan on making up for you sleeping on the cold hard ground for weeks and weeks by doing everything I can’t do to you in a tent.”
“How thin are the walls?” You ask, already feeling the place in between your thighs readying itself for whatever he has planned.
“Thicker than a tent.”
“Well don’t keep me waiting, let’s get to this room and use tonight to the fullest.” You whisper. The breath by his ear sending a shiver down his spine.
“Yes ma’am.”
A few curious looks from other guests and the staff is all you see before the two of you are racing up to your room. Before you can react, the door is shut, and you are shoved against it. His hands are placed harshly against your hips, drawing you closer, his leg set firmly between yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, tugging at the ends of his hair that needs a bit of a trim before setting out again. Although, the sounds he makes when you pull at it might just change your mind.
“Bucky.” You moan. His lips leaving a trail of kisses along the column of your neck, much like the first night. His tongue slipping out to lap at the small bites he leaves inconsistently.
A hard tug on his hair as he moves to your collarbone is all it takes. He groans low in his throat, grabbing your thighs and shoving them around his waist before he walks the two of you over to what you assume is the bed. The coldness underneath your ass says different.
“Too many clothes.” He grumbles as he is fumbling with the buttons of your shirt. You shake your head, smiling wide.
“I agree.” You own fingers are attempting to work at his buttons, having the same problem as him.
You encase his hand in yours, stopping his shaking movements. “Why don’t we just undress ourselves?”
“But I like undressing you.”
“And I enjoy it, but sweetheart, look at your hands.” He does, and huffs at the tremor.
“Fine.”
You don’t even bother unbuttoning your shit before you pull it over your head and out of your pants. They are far tighter than when you first bought them, the muscles in your legs have grown considerably, and although Bucky loves to look at them, you can see the judgment in other eyes when you do. Not that you care, but it still stings. However, the favored pants are soon slipping off your legs, leaving you in only the special undergarments you picked for this occasion.
“When did you get those?”
“Our first break. But I figured neither one of us would like me walking around camp with this underneath my clothes.” You smirk as he stalls his moves, button on his own pants almost undone.
“Damn right.” He growls as he pulls the fabric off and settles in just his underwear.
“You gonna come kiss me Sarge?” You can see his eyes darken as he struts forward, lifting you back up onto the dresser, the cold wood causing you to gasp.
He takes it as an invitation to slip in tongue in your mouth, almost immediately fighting with yours in the best way possible. Your hands move to his hair again, loving the feel of it between your fingers. The moan that escapes your lips when he tugs the straps of your bra down is downright dirty.
“I love you.” He mumbles, words slightly muffled by your skin.
“I love you too.” You rake your hands down his back, leaving angry red marks that send him reeling. “But I’d love you a lot more right now if you stopped teasing.”
He doesn’t answer verbally, doesn’t need too. The fabric covering your breasts is shoved off, just on the right side of careful, as he throws it across the room. Mouth hot against one and hand the other. That sinful tongue of his darts out to lap the stiffened peak of one. And fuck, it’s never felt this good, not even with him before.
“James.”
A small nip and pinch and you are throwing your head back, latching onto his shoulders with one hand, his head with another as he does it again. Just when you think you can’t possibly take any more, he switches sides, and you lose it. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing, wanting nothing more than for something to fill you up, but he seems to ignore your wordless and moaning pleas.
“James, please.” You moan, no longer caring how wanton you sound. His hand not already occupied by your breast moves downward, slipping aside the fabric of your panties, drawing out even more slick from you.
He stops long enough to remove the only thing shielding himself from you. His lips now moving downward with his hands to that place you desperately want him to fill. A warm breath on you and you shiver. A swipe of his finger and you moan. A lick and you practically shoot off the wood.
“Tastes good.” He groans, the vibrations from his words against your nether lips making you even more wet.
Hands gripping your thighs he delves between your legs once more, licking a few long stipes from slit to clit, circling the sensitive nub each time, but never really touching. His nose prods at it as he slips that long tongue inside you. You’re sure the people on the other side can hear you now. Not that you would care at this point, the sensations stemming from between your legs are enough for your mind to go blank.
A flick of his thumb over your clit and your gone. You can feel yourself clench around him, his tongue lapping up everything you give. Sagging against the mirror, he doesn’t let up. He slowly, almost painfully so, slips one of his thick digits in, swirling it amidst the slick still pooling. The turtle like pace he sets isn’t enough to get you off, you know that, he knows that. However, it’s enough to make you want more.
Another finger, still no faster and his tongue pressed against your clit is enough to make you jerk. “Stop teasing.” You gasp, words broken up with harsh breathes as he speeds up just long enough to startle you.
“But it’s so fun.” He whines against you, your legs wrapping around his head tight.
“Please.”
“Tell me.” He orders, only here would you ever let him. But then again, only with his head between your legs or sheathed inside you, would he ever try.
“I want you inside me.”
The groan sends both of you over the edge. His picks you up, gently lay you on the bed and in between harsh and passionate kisses, slips inside with one long thrust. The gasp the ensues is enough for you. The feeling of him finally inside you almost sending you over the edge.
“Not yet doll. I want you to cum with me.” He moans, his movements slow at first, the sounds of skin against skin quiet.
You lock your legs around his hip, pulling him closer and pushing him farther inside. “Fuck me James.” That seems to be enough for him.
His pace quickens, skin slapping harshly, hands gripping your hips in a way sure to leave bruises. The shallow breathing of both of you fills the room with the loud moans. Every hard thrust of his hips sends you closer and closer to the edge. “James!”
The harsh rub of his pubic bone against your clit is too much. Both you can feel yourself clench around him, tightly. He does it again, the vice-like grip of you around him enough that his thrusts grow sloppy. Snaking a hand in between you his thumbs your nub, and you can’t hold it anymore.
He groans, low and loud, as you cum around him. Only a few more languid thrusts and he’s done too. The hot ropes of him filling you up is almost enough to send you over again, the waves of your previous orgasm still not fully over.
“I think you made up for the cold hard ground.” You gasp out, breathing harsh as he collapses next to you.
“Oh, I’m not done yet. Not even close.”
~
The weather was warmer, meaning the nights spend in the tent were with less clothing. Steve discovered that the hard way. Of course, he should’ve known to announce his presence before barging in.
The mission in Greece went well, far better than some of the other ones. But the high from it didn’t last. The boys got orders, you didn’t like it, Peggy didn’t like it, no one did. What you hated the most was that you weren’t going with them.
“I’ll be fine, doll.” Bucky reassures, but you see it in his eyes, he’s nervous.
“I hope so.”
“I’ll come back and we can do anything you want.”
“Anything?” You ask, ideas of varying levels of debauchery flowing through your mind.
“Anything. Promise.”
“Okay.” You look at him, not liking saying goodbye. “When you get back, we’re getting married.”
“I don’t have a ring.” He argues, not really meaning it, but also worried about it to a point. You shake your head at him.
“I don’t care. I want to marry you, not a ring.” You don’t let him speak as you lean up and kiss him. It feels like a goodbye kiss, even though you hope with everything in you it’s not permanent.
“As soon as I get back huh?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“You gonna get all dressed up in white?” He asks, only half mocking.
“I doubt it, nothing pure about me anymore is there? I might grace you with a skirt though.” You give him one more peck on the cheek before hugging him tight. “I expect you in your dress uniform though.”
“Of course. Anything for my best girl, right?”
“Just come back, okay.” You don’t want to cry, never thought of yourself as a crier. But now, holding onto Bucky and realizing that he is likely going into a death trap, that’s all you want to do.
“I promise.”
~
Their late. Not late enough to cause real concern, but still late. None of them have showed up yet, not Steve, not Dugan, not Pinky, not even Frenchie. Every second that passes amps up your nerves. Peggy’s no better, standing next to you and chewing her lip.
“Do you think they’re alright?” She asks, the red of her lips almost gone.
“Of course. They’re our boys.” You try, it doesn’t work, not when you don’t really believe the words yourself.
“Well, you’re not wearing white.”
“Bucky!” You turn, launching yourself at him. Not fully noticing that he has on the same outfit as the first day you met. The green shirt matching that of your dress.
“I missed you doll.” He murmurs into your neck.
“I missed you too.”
“Still wanna get married?” He asks, setting you down.
“Yes.”
~
The dingy motel room seems familiar. It isn’t, but it brings back memories of your first night with him, with anyone. You can’t help but smile as you trace little shapes on the expanse of his chest, still covered in a light sheen of sweat.
“I love you Y/N.”
“I love you James.”
You lay there for a while, his arm wrapped around you, yours around him, the sheet not really covering anything from your waist up. Still, his hand traces mindless shapes the same as yours. It almost tickles. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, stilling his movements. You place one on his chest. Chaste compared to earlier.
“It feels different.” He says.
“It does, doesn’t it?”
“I could get used to it.”
“Me too.” You pick your head up from its resting place against him. “Goodnight Mr. Barnes.” A kiss, for luck and good dreams.
“Goodnight, Mrs. Barnes.” A kiss and a grab at your ass for fun.
~
The hoots and hollers from the team when you go you on your next mission are comical. The booze that are passed around aren’t. They don’t have any effect on Steve, and don’t seem to have any on Bucky either. No one comments on it though, not even when everyone else is piss ass drunk, save you and Peg.
“You actually did it! Lady Legs and Buckaroo actually did it!” Dugan yells. You just laugh at him as you lay your head on Bucky’s shoulder.
Most of the other guys are passed out already, snoring loudly. “Yes Dum Dum, we did.” Bucky says.
“Your married!” He says, almost disbelieving.
“Yes, we are.” You answer. Bucky just pulls you closer.
“Never thought I’d see the day.” He mutters into the bottle.
“We’re aware.” You grumble, for the fifth time tonight.
You two escape to your tent shortly after a few more drunken confessions, all of which were embarrassing for anyone involved. You can still hear him, but neither you nor Bucky care at this point, the two of you just want to sleep.
“Think he’ll pass out anytime soon?” He asks.
“One can only hope.” You stop, unsure how to broach the subject with him. “Bucky?”
“Yeah?”
“They did things to you, I know that.” You pause, letting him process the direction of the conversation. “I don’t need, or want, to know everything. I just want to know if it was a botched version of the serum Steve and I got.”
He doesn’t say anything for a while, you almost don’t think he will. “How’d you know?”
“I’m your wife, James. Your fianc��, girlfriend, and friend before that. I also saw what you looked like when you rescued you. I saw the look on your face when you spotted the doctor, and I knew they were conducting experiments. The guys said no one came back from where you were. You also have far more stamina than a normal man, are far stronger than you should be, and didn’t get drunk tonight or the night in the bar.”
“I haven’t been as careful as I thought then,” he mutters. “Yes, it was botched version of it. Far less safe obviously.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothin’ for you to be sorry about doll. It wasn’t your fault.” You hear the shaky breath he takes. “Please don’t hate me for it.”
“I could never hate you. I’m not gonna leave you over it either. I love you Bucky, botched serum and all.”
~
Cold snow and iced over ground gave way to warm weather and soft, mud-covered ground soon after that conversation a week ago. The SSR offered Steve a way to Italy, he declined, much to everyone’s dismay. He seems to be the only one unaffected by the night sleeping in a tent. His excuse, as always, is a good one. Always about doing the right thing, clearing towns of the Nazi and HYDRA influence as we go. Still, you missed a bed. You missed the things that came with a bed too.
You and Bucky’s sex life is … bland, at the moment at least. There simply isn’t much room in a tent to get creative and the thin fabric certainly does nothing to muffle sounds. A few too many incidents of team members barging in due to what they considered sounds of distress is enough to let the two of you know that until a more private setting can be found, exciting sex just isn’t practical. That didn’t stop you from trying though.
“I’m going to kill Steve for refuses the offer of better transportation.” Bucky grumbles just ahead of you.
“Feeling a little under the weather, are we?” You ask him, after the fifth time he falls in the mud. Each time you struggle to keep the laughter in.
“Very funny doll. Let’s not forget the roles were reversed a while back.”
“True, but I wasn’t covered in mud.”
“It’s a good thing I love you.” He growls, and without warning, launches himself at you.
Falling back into the mud pile he just vacated, you squeal. “James Buchanan Barnes! You devil you!” Everyone turns to see the commotion and all laugh at the sight.
“What the bloody hell are you two doing?” Peggy asks, laughing while trying scold us.
“Ask my husband!”
“Barnes?” She asks, hands on her hips, lips tugged into a smile.
Without looking up from your eyes he replies, “Y/N was making fun of me.”
“Are you a child?” She asks, still smiling, Steve now next to her.
“Only sometimes.” He drops his voice, low enough that only you can hear. “Other times I like to make you scream for a different reason.”
You aren’t sure whether you want to moan or hit him with the handful of mud poised at your side. You settle on a grumble of frustration. “You are insatiable James Barnes.”
“Only for you Y/N Barnes.”
~
The bed beneath you is a welcome change after weeks of a tent and the ground. However, nothing is quite as welcome as the head between your legs, fingers parting what he can’t with his mouth. Your own fingers are tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, pulling him closer if possible. He doesn’t move though, only continues his ministrations, far too slow for your liking.
“Bucky, please.”
“Patience my dear.” He mumbles before delving back in, tongue lapping at your entrance, trying to taste every ounce of your wetness.
The moan coming you as he slips his finger in are sure to wake Steve, who is on the other side of the wall behind you. The mere thought causes you to tense a little. He feels it, stopping. “What’s going on in that head of yours love?”
“Steve … he can probably … oh god Bucky …” You try to explain as he resumes his movements once you relax a bit.
“I don’t care.” He mumbles, leaning back down to suck on your clit. “But I better not hear his name again for a while.”
“Fuck!” The harsh curl of his finger coupled with the addition of a second sends you higher. You swear your eyes roll back, whites showing.
“Atta girl.” He groans, the slight movement of the bed an indication he’s rutting his hips against the side now. “You taste so good.”
“James.” You gasp as he moves his fingers faster, tongue following, licking at your clit faster than before. “Need you.”
“Fuck doll.” He groans, moving from his place on the carpeted floor and over you.
One swift movement, no more prep necessary, he pushes in, bottoming out in record time. The loud groan from his lips already sending you clenching around him even more. “James … move.”
He does, slowly at first. Long and measured movements are met with the soft slap of hips against hips, fingers coming down to tweak your exposed nipples. The jagged breath at the dual sensations is enough for him to pick up the pace, even if only slightly. Even as you lock your legs around him, urging him deeper, harder, faster, he doesn’t budge.
One hand slips downward, hovering over your hyper-sensitive nub, the other still pulling, pinching, and rubbing at the peak of your breast. The gentle press of the finger against you makes you clench, squeezing him harder.
“Fuck Y/N.” He pants. “Gonna make me cum like a boy if you keep that up.”
“Faster.” Is all you manage as he whispers in your ear.
His grip shifts, holding onto your hips now, the slow pace now a thing of the past. The almost brutal pounding does you in, the release that was only impeding moments ago is exploding now. Another push and pull of your hips and he’s growling, pulling out.
“Hands and knees baby.” He moans into your ear. You oblige.
One hand resting on your ass he loves so much and the other wrapped around his length, he is guiding himself into you. Your prior climax letting him slip in with ease, tip reaching new depths at this angle. Arching your back as he bottoms out draws a guttural moan from him. The fast and hard pounding from before resumes. The slapping of skin is the only sound next to the almost scream-like sounds coming from your lips.
“Oh … fuck! Y/N.” He groans, thrust becoming sloppier now. You don’t mind, your own walls are clenching harder, the heat pooling in your center. You can feel yourself reaching that high again.
“S’close Bucky.” You mumble, dropping down to your elbows, face falling into the pillows; they don’t do much to muffle the sounds though.
“Me too.” He groans, lips trailing up your back, chest sliding against your sweaty skin. “Get yourself there.”
You nod, slipping your hand between your legs, tracing your clit with your fingers. “Shit. Oh, fuck!” You moan, his thrusts bottoming out in rapid succession.
“Cum for me doll.” He moans, lips pressing into your neck as you collapse farther into the bed. It doesn’t take you long, you second release crashing over you like a wave. He doesn’t take long to follow, ropes of his own painting your walls.
The squelchy sound as he pulls out and collapses next to you is the dirtiest and sound you’ve heard in a while. “We’ve got have sex more often. If we keep doing this, you’re gonna kill me.” Bucky gasps.
“Well, I don’t find the boys seeing me splayed out for you like a feast too arousing, and they have a habit of that.”
“True.” Slowly he gets up and walks, ass on full display for your viewing pleasure, into the bathroom. The cool sensation of a washcloth between your legs makes you moan a little.
“Nuh uh, I can’t do another round yet.”
“Not asking. Just feels good after all that.”
“Not surprised. We went for,” he pauses, hand still holding the cold wet cloth against you as he looks at the bedside clock, “four hours.”
“I’m gonna kill you! You’re gonna kill me is more like it.” You grumble, a smile playing at your lips.
“But you love it.”
“Yes, I do.”
~
1945
You weren’t going on this mission. The higher-ups said it was a ‘man’s job’ something you took high offence to but could do nothing about. You knew what it was, Bucky filled you in as much as he could, but even he couldn’t tell you everything, and you had a feeling, he didn’t want to.
The goodbye was worse than last time. You weren’t just saying goodbye to Bucky, to James Barnes; you were saying goodbye to your husband. Even Colonel Philips gave you a wide berth, everyone could see the sadness seeping from you pores. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt different this time.
You waited with the nurses this time, Peggy pacing nearby, waiting for word, anything. Nothing came when it was due. Even an hour late, nothing. Two hours. Three. Four. After seven you were hysterical, only on the inside though. Outside, you were a shell. Your eyes haven’t left the same spot on the floor since hour five.
“Mrs. Barnes?” A woman says, tapping at your shoulder.
“What?”
“Their back.”
You jump up, running in the direction of the tent you know they will be, but as you get there, only nine men come out, Steve included. His eyes are hollow, glassy, red. Your breath catches in your throat.
“Steve?”
“Y/N.” He chokes out. Your breathing picks up, tears prickling at the back of your eyes. You know what is going to come out of his mouth, but you have to ask.
“Steve, where’s Bucky?”
He can’t answer you, can only shake his head as sobs rip through him too. The two of you cling to each other, sobs wracking your bodies, the sounds echoing throughout the camp. No one comes up to console either one of you. They can’t. Bucky’s gone.
~
The gun fire and sound of bombs still echo in your skull as you climb into the plane, hiding in an alcove, out of sight. You can hear the sounds of the battle, muffled by the metal. Steve, his voice yelling, Peggy isn’t far behind.
You turn a corner, spotting multiple planes with cities written on their backs. You manage to take one out by the time Steve show up. His already haggard face becomes more so when he sees you. The two of you, bloodied and bruised make your way into the cockpit, Schmidt waiting.
“You don’t give up, do you?” He asks, more to Steve than to you. Still, you count yourself as part of it.
“Nope!” He yells, throwing himself into the fight. You don’t get in the way; you see the desperation and rage on Steve’s face. He needs this. He needs this fight after Bucky. You, you need him here.
His shield is flying, fists hitting everything in their paths. Somehow, through the array of bullets and sparks and everything in between, you make your way into the pilot’s seat. You don’t know what anything says, or what to do with anything, but you recognize two words: New York. The plane is heading for New York.
Patting your legs, trying to find that one gun you know you haven’t used yet, you frantically try to help. Gripping the handle and pointing it at the red man you fire, the bullet just missing anything vital. Just as the blood starts to seep from his side, Steve’s shield shoots him into the console holding the glowing cube.
“What have you done? No!” He screams, picking up the cube. You dive, fingers just brushing the thing before you grab onto it as well.
“What are you doing?” Steve screams at you, Schmidt’s face losing color as he watches the shapes and energy encircle both of you.
The only thing running through your head is Bucky. You could’ve protected him, if you’d been there. Shielded him from the thing that killed him. You could’ve taken the fall. It should have been you. It shouldn’t have been him. Not your Bucky. You could’ve protected him.
“I may not survive this, but I’ll be damned before you get what you want.” You growl at him as you grip it tighter. You can feel it starting to seep into you, almost as if it’s a living thing.
“No!” He screams, trying to pull it from you, but even with your own grip, it feels as if it won’t let go of you. “No.”
“You took my husband from me.” You growl, knuckles white with the strain, voice even harsher, blood coming from your nose. “And you’re going to pay for that.” You let go, the cube unleashing the entirety of its power onto him, the sheer force of it throwing you into the console.
You see a stream of bright blue flash, the body of Schmidt turning into dust, or at least that’s what it looks like. Your hand moves up to your face, wiping the blood from your nose. You don’t say anything as you look to Steve, a small smile on your face. The only thing you see is his panic-stricken face as you start to feel yourself fall. The metal hitting your head echoes even as the plane flies.
You watch as the dreaded cube burns through the plan, falling into the ocean. Eyes fluttering you smile, your vision fading in and out as you think of him. Your James. Your Bucky. Your husband. His smile, as he looks down at you is the last thing you see before your vision fades completely, world going dark and silent.
2011
“Good morning.” A plastic cup is shoved in front of your face. “How are you feeling?” the voice sounds feminine, but the haziness is there, the sounds muffled a bit.
“Where am I?” The voice that comes out of you doesn’t seem like your own, but yet it is.
“You’re in a recovery facility.”
“Where am I?”
“You’re in a recover-”
“Where am I?” You start to recognize your own voice, and it sounds raspy.
“I don’t understand.” The woman, a nurses uniform you recognize on. It seems off though, slightly altered. You glance at her legs, no hosiery.
“What year is it?” You ask, slightly surer of yourself.
“It’s nineteen-forty-five.” She answers, an uneasy smile on her face now.
“You’re lying.” You stare at her now, the pit in your stomach growing. “What year is it?”
“I told you –”
“Stop lying to me!” You turn back to her, taking a shaky breath. “No respectable woman in nineteen-forty-five would go to her workplace in a skirt with no hosiery. And if I’m right, this is a government facility, meaning that in forty-five, that would be required. Now what year is it?”
She steps back, hand going under the lip of the table in the corner. You know she presses an alarm, but yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to care. Still, you know whoever she calls can’t be good. “Sir, she knows.”
You shove at her, the punch thrown at her jaw sends her flying. It doesn’t take much time before your instincts kick in, your hands pulling open the door. You don’t make it far, guns pointed at you in every direction.
“Guns down.” A male this time. No one moves. “I said guns down.” He tries again, this time they listen. “I’m Agent Phil Coulson. You must be Y/N Y/L/N.”
“How do you know my name?”
“History.” He doesn’t offer you more than that.
“What year is it? Where am I?”
“New York City, twenty-eleven.”
#bucky barnes#steve rogers#peggy carter#avengers#howling commandos#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#captain america the first avenger#catfa
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Part Nine❤ When the Villain Becomes the Hero
Roman’s POV
Summary: Roman has an important mission.
Pairing: LAMP
Content warnings are in the promo.
Masterlist
Previous, Next.
❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
“We’re going to be late!” I yell as I grab Paige’s hand.
“Please don’t yell.” Paige yanks her hand back.
“Sorry, I’m- just let’s go.”
I start running, Paige will catch up, she does have super speed after all.
As I enter the aquarium I realize that Paige did not follow me. I try to call her, but I go straight to voicemail.
Shit. I guess I have to do this by myself.
I run through the crowd of families trying to look at some cool fish, if only they knew what is happening.
I got to the elevator and started pounding on the button to go down.
“You only need to push it once,” a little girl full of attitude snarls.
“Sorry.”
“What are you doing? The turtles aren’t even that cool.” She seems to not notice the fact that I’m in my superhero outfit.
“My friend got hurt down there,” I lie.
“Are they going to die?” The girl looks like she’s about to cry.
“No, of course not.”
“Then why are you panicking?” She asks as the elevator opens.
“Because I want to be there for them,” I say as I enter the elevator.
I pace around the elevator as it glides down. The elevator is unnecessarily big, which meant even more room for nervous pacing.
Eventually the doors open, and I go back to running. After passing some otters and turtle exhibits he finally finds the janitor room. I try to open the door, and of course, it’s locked. I yank the doorbell off of the door.
Inside of the room is a bomb. Every hero is trained to be able to defuse a bomb, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still terrifying.
I get to work and after almost ten excruciating minutes I finally defuse it. I get to my feet and take a deep breath.
It’s over, it’s finally over. No one died, and no one will. At least not here.
As I leave the room I get a call from Paige.
“Hey-”
“Where were you?” I snap.
“I had a mission on the other side of town,” she explains over the phone.
“Why didn’t you say that? I was freaking out.”
“Sorry, I was in a rush.”
“Maybe we should work on communication,” I suggest.
“Yeah, definitely.”
They say their goodbyes before hanging up.
I walk back to the elevator, but this time I’m able to take in what’s around me. All of the aquatic animals, the children dragging their parents around, and the spa music quietly playing through the speakers.
I enter the elevator and patiently wait for it to get to the top.
As I’m leaving the elevator a young boy with his dad comes up to me.
“Hi, Princey!” The young boy excited yells.
“Hey,” the dad says, “would it be okay if I could get a picture of you with my son, Nick?”
“Of course.” I can’t help but smile every time someone recognizes me.
After a picture and talking to the cute kid I eventually get a call. We say our goodbyes before I answer the call.
“Hey.”
“Can you come over to the headquarters real quick? We need to speak about a new hero,” an intern says over the phone.
“Of course.”
❤
“Roman, come in,” a man in a suit says as I enter the room.
A couple more suited men and Paige are sitting at the round table. Something tells me there is no new hero.
I sit down next to Paige and ask, “what’s all of this about?”
“We’ve heard some rumors that you two are in contact with some villains,” one of the indistinguishable white men says.
Finally, time to get those two arrested, now I have the means to without doing it myself.
“Nope,” Paige says, and I freeze in my seat.
Shit. Now I can’t tell them anything or I’ll get Paige arrested for lying to them. Goddammit, why is Paige protecting them in the first place?
“Well, sorry for bringing you two all of the way here then. Thank you for coming.”
We shake all of the mens’ hands before leaving the room.
“What the-”
“Shh, they have cameras and microphones everywhere,” Paige whispers.
She’s right, I shouldn’t say anything until we get to her house.
“You’re still wearing your hero outfit,” Paige giggles.
“When did you even have time to change?”
She’s wearing a white sweater tucked into high-waisted shorts with a bubblegum pink belt.
“When I got home, duh.”
I playfully roll my eyes.
Pink is peaking through her pale foundation. She does like to wear a lot of blush, but I didn’t notice it before. Is she blushing? No, why would she be?
Paige gently grabs my hand as we continue to walk when we run into Paige’s cousin Valerie, also known as Miss Fire.
“Hi, how are you?” She greets with a cheery voice and a smile on her face.
We make some small talk before Paige invites Valerie over to her house. Of course, she says yes, because who wouldn’t want to hang out with Paige.
❤
We all sit down in Paige’s livingroom while all holding different drinks. Valerie’s drinking a Sunny D, Paige is drinking a Capri Sun, and I have a Redbull.
“Roman, it’s seven pm, why are you drinking an energy drink?” Paige asks.
“I have a scheduled mission at ten pm, so I’m going to need this.”
“I can never get over how clean your house always is,” Valerie compliments.
“Thanks, my mom loves cleaning,” Paige responds.
Although she is telling the truth, I still raise my eyebrows at that. I think the maids are responsible for the cleanness of the house more than her mom who’s always working but alright.”
“Forgive me for asking, but what does your mom do? I know your dad is a Marketing Manager, but I’ve never heard what your mom does,” Valerie asks.
“She is the Co-founder of D&L Winery,” Paige responds.
“Ooh, that’s so fancy. My mom loves their wines.”
I’m pretty sure Valerie’s mom’s an alcoholic, but I’m not going to comment on that.
We continue to talk until eight-thirty, and Valerie says she has to go home because she has to get up extra early tomorrow. We all say goodbye before she leaves.
“Hey Roman, do you wanna spend the night?”
Previous, Next.
#sanders sides#thomas sanders#royality#lamp/calm#patton sanders#roman sanders#iwillphysicallyfiteyou#when the villain become the hero
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Ghost Protag 2
I enjoy writing this, it’s fun and a shameless self insert and I dont even care. It’s great. I hope you enjoy it, too.
Again, be forewarned. This story deals with some heavy stuff like depression, self harm, and suicide. I suggest if you’re not comfortable with these themes, that you don’t read. Thank you!
First Part Third Part
Even dead – yes, I am, in fact, going to keep talking about how I’m dead okay? It’s kind of a big deal for me – I still found myself following the streets until I was staring at the looming buildings of my university campus.
I can feel the judgement from here. Say whatever, but I at least decided to go after what I wanted and get that degree I wanted. Your age doesn’t matter you can do what you want! Take THAT DEPRESSION!
She said nothing. Good. Fuck off, you fickle bitch.
Anyway, I stopped next to a bus stop. It was outside the main building of campus, where they had the food court and printers and all that jazz. Not gonna lie, I still felt out of place when I went there, because everyone was years younger than I was. So out of place that I went and got a printer for my apartment. I was stuck eating noodles for two weeks because of it, but whatever. I had a printer. I didn’t have to pay ten cents a page for my essays anymore. Sue me. But as I stared up at the building, I felt sad. I wouldn’t be able to go in there again and get the really awful pizza that they made. Or sit in the too comfortable chairs in the basement and accidentally fall asleep.
I sat heavily on the bus bench and just…stared. I could hear birds and bugs and the faint music coming from one of the frat houses behind me. The occasional car roared past, speeding in the twenty zone. Who cared? No one. I didn’t even think there was a campus cop out right now.
I wanted to cry. Could I cry? I could run into doors, so I could probably cry. But no tears came. I started thinking of even more sad things, just to see if I could. I thought of how my cats would have to be rehomed, and how they probably didn’t even know that I wouldn’t be coming back. I thought of how I had done all that work towards that degree for nothing. I thought of the money that was just going to disappear, probably, from my bank account since I was – hahaha – dead.
Okay, I made myself WAY too sad. I felt my eyes welling up. Instead of wiping them away, like I had at the church, I let them fall. They rolled partially down my face before just…vanishing. I touched my chin, where they normally dripped off, and found it dry.
“This is such bullshit!” I screamed into the night. I stood and stomped my kitty slipper feet on the ground like I was two. “I can’t even cry properly?! What the actual fuck, universe!” I screamed. I screamed loud and hard and way too long for someone who should have been alive. When I couldn’t scream anymore, I stopped, and found myself disappointed when the sound didn’t echo.
I could feel a presence just behind my right shoulder, on the sidewalk, just standing there. Awkwardly. And staring. I wiped at my face anyway, even though my tears were apparently just floating away like tiny fucking helium balloons, and turned towards the presence.
It was a boy. A man? I dunno, but he was most definitely that awkward age were you think you’re one but you’re still probably the other but, legally, you’re the adult. Option B. The one that pays the taxes.
Oh, man, I didn’t have to pay taxes anymore. I didn’t get a tax return anymore. That sucks!
“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was higher than mine, just a little, and he squeezed his arms when he asked the question. He hugged himself like he was cold and his black sweater was doing nothing to help him. It was a turtle neck with long sleeves. And boy, this kid needed sun. His was brown, but not very brown? Like, he had been taking his night classes a little too seriously? Get this poor child some Vitamin D!
I looked around as I registered his question. “Me?” I asked, when I saw I was the only one. His thin brown eyebrows lifted to tell me yes, he was in fact talking to me. A car turned the corner and rolled past him, its headlights illuminating him. His hair was swept up and away from his face, dark brown, and covered in a blue that was growing out almost too much. The sides of his head were cut close. He hadn’t gotten it done in a little while, alright. “You’re asking me if I’m okay?” I repeated.
He shook his head and shoulders like I was absolutely nuts. “Yeah. You were screaming,” he said. He shrugged his shoulders and unfolded his lanky arms to shrug again. “You’re the only other person—”
“Holy fucking shit, you can see me?” I interrupted, stumbling around the bench towards him.
He lifted his hands and backed up into the street. “Lady, I think you’re drunk.”
“Trust me, I am SO not drunk,” I said. I stopped, though, and rolled my eyes up in thought. “Am I?”
He started to walk away. “This is what I get for being a good person,” I heard him say to himself.
I scrambled after him, shouting wait at his back, until I managed to catch up and latch onto his arm. He, too, tripped over his own feet and yanked his arm away from me. “Why are you so cold?” he demanded.
“I’m cold?” I protested, “You’re cold! Did you just walk out of a freezer?”
“No, it’s just cold outside!” he shouted back. His head snapped to the side and he backed up to the sidewalk. It was then that I realized that I had followed him out into the road. Just in time for another car to roll down the street and barrel right into me.
Through me.
I didn’t, like, disappear. I was still there. I pressed my hands to my stomach and wailed as the car continued on. “What the fuck?” I squeaked. I looked at my palms and continued to press them into my abdomen. “What the fuck? I can’t go through a door but a car can go through me?!” I groaned and crouched in the road. “Oh my god, that was, like, the worst possible cramp I could have ever had.”
I could see the man child in the turtle neck anxiously pacing on the sidewalk. His messenger bag had dropped to the ground and his hands were buried in his hair. He stared at me. “You just got hit by a car,” he said.
“No, I think it went through me.”
“A car just went through you.”
“Yes?”
“Holy hell, a car just went through you.”
“We’ve established this. Let me cramp in peace.”
He practically slid across the ground, kneeling next to me in the road. “You’re dead,” he concluded.
I set my elbow on my knee and propped my chin in my hand. “No shit?” I asked, “And here I thought I was tripping balls.” The thrill of discovery flickered and almost disappeared from his eyes. He pulled me up from a crouch – with my protests – and pulled me back to the sidewalk.
“You’re a ghost,” he said slowly.
I would have smacked him if a wave of pain hadn’t rolled through my stomach. It, honestly, felt like the car had ripped through my back and squeezed out of my belly button. Worst cramps ever. “Yeah, I’m a ghost,” I said through gritted teeth. I held out my hand and sank to the ground, pressing as much as I could against my stomach. “God, that hurt,” I sighed.
The kid kneeled in front of me. “I’m Francisco,” he said. His letters rolled beautifully off his tongue. I could have swooned. “Pancho,” he added, “To…people.”
I looked up at him. The pain was starting to pass. Bless. “Pancho?” I repeated.
“It’s short for Francisco,” he persisted.
“…In what world?”
“Spanish!” he replied. The word was drawn out and upset. I could have laugh.
I could have done a lot of things. Instead, I swallowed down the nausea that was coming with the passing of the pain and held out my hand. “Piper,” I said, “Piper Mills.”
“Like paper mills,” he said as he shook my hand.
“Okay, okay, get it out, Pancho Man,” I shot back.
He sucked on his teeth. Carefully, he stood, and pulled me with him. “If you’re gonna make fun of me, at least be original,” he said. His head tilted. His hair fell just right. There was a pout, even. That feeling in the back of my mind pinged but I kept my mouth shut. People were in the cupboard for a reason. Shit, I was. Sitting quietly with my kitchen utensils were I belonged. Instead, I pulled my hand back and wrapped my arms over my stomach. “If you’re gonna make fun of the people that can see you, then you need to choose wisely,” he warned. He picked up his bag and shook his hair from his face. Again.
Ping ping, motherfucker.
I licked my lips. “People?” I asked.
It was like he just realized what he said. He pressed his lips together, eyes growing wide. Suddenly, his mouth split with an audible pop and there, right there, were fangs. A little stained like teeth of a wine drinker, but there, right there, were fangs that extended down from his upper gums and sat carefully over his bottom jaw. I watched as they shrank back into his gums until they looked like regular old – okay, who am I kidding, sharp as fuck canines.
What did my anthropology professor say? Oh, right.
I had a God damn, mother fucking paradigm shift right then and there. The universe itself tilted and the planets aligned and Zeus himself reached down to flick me in the back of the head. I knew what he was. I knew the word. Still, the only thing I could say was an intelligible, “Uhhhhhh.”
Pancho smacked his lips and sucked on his teeth again. He grabbed my arms and carefully turned me around. “That’s the normal reaction, it’s okay,” he murmured. He kept an arm around me as we walked. I half wondered what people who looked outside thought. Who knew. Vampires were said to be able to do a lot of things.
I did look up at him – boy was much taller than I was – and asked, “Are you just hugging air to people?”
“Yes, I am, so let’s walk faster,” he answered.
I knew campus was big, but I had never realized how big until Pancho took me to his university apartment on the. Other. Side. Of the world. I wish I were kidding. It was, like, fifteen blocks away from the bus stop bench. I didn’t even know the campus was that big, you know? But it was, and we walked up four flights of stairs and down, like, five hallways, until Pancho finally opened a door and unveiled his apartment.
There was a dog. There, right there, in the middle of the floor. It was small, and black, with a tail that was home to three perfectly round, although different sized, orbs of curled fur. That tiny, adorable, tea cup poodle jumped to its adorably small, teeny tiny paws, and barked as loud as it could.
Those damn evaporating tears poured down my face as I thought of my cats. Pancho panicked. He lowered me onto his leather futon near the door as I sobbed and asked me, repeatedly, what was wrong. I told him. I told him how my cats were at home by themselves, or probably with my parents, and I would never see them again. He had the fortitude to kiss my hair.
“Do you want me to get your cats?” he asked.
“Yes, I want my cats!” I wailed.
He carefully placed the tea cup poodle – named Thor – in my lap and set out every remote for the various devices around and connected to his television. He told me how to work his shower, how to work the stove if I was hungry, and left. The door clicked shut. It opened again as he asked for my address and I gave it to him through muffled and bubbly sobs as I buried my face into Thor’s fluffy tummy. He had rolled over in my lap. I was grateful. Pancho told me to give him an hour. The door shut and the lock clicked and I was alone with a happily panting Thor and my pathetic sobs. I righted Thor in my lap and he licked my face where my tears should have been. I smiled at scratched his ears.
“Well, that answers one question,” I cooed at Thor. He tilted his head at me. “Animals can see ghosts.” He leaned his face in towards mine and licked my nose clean. I squeezed my eyes shut as he continued to clean the rest of my face. When he was done, and his rancid dog breath was puffing in my face, I replied, “Thank you.”
He barked.
I nodded my head.
Thor jumped off my lap and click clacked his way across the hard wood floor to the kitchen, where he sat pretty next to a full food bowl. I followed him. He daintly pressed a paw into his food and brought it back to the floor. I stared at him. “You,” I stuttered, “You have food.”
He did it again.
“Yes, it’s right there.”
And again.
I crouched this time. “Food. Right there.”
Thor stood and shoved the plastic food bowl at me. I watched as it hit my foot. “I eat?” I asked, “I food?” Thor barked this time and sat back down. “I food,” I repeated. I stood and looked around the kitchen. “Me eat.”
Pancho’s kitchen was minimalistic and perfect – of course. The only flaw was a hook near a coffee pot that held a leash and collar, and a bowl underneath that held colorful doggy bags. The collar was teal. So was the leash. The leash itself was long and cloth and had black letters up and down it. I reached over and lifted a piece to read.
It said service dog.
I looked down at Thor. “Now you make sense,” I said. Thor lifted a paw. I dug around in the kitchen, finding little in the way of snacks and more in the way of garnishes for dishes. I opened a cabinet and found a single box of cereal. And in the fridge, milk. I made a bowl and sat on the island in the middle of the kitchen, kicking my feet and spooning the small sugary discs into my face. It was nice to eat. I didn’t feel hungry – I didn’t know if I could be hungry – but it was nice to eat. Comforting. Normal.
I looked around the apartment as I ate bowl after bowl until I had finished both the box of cereal and the milk carton. The living room had the futon, a matching chair, a glass coffee table, and a large flat screen with multiple game consoles and multimedia players underneath. There was a VCR. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw a VCR. Across from the island of the kitchen was a nice, square dining table, fit for four people. On the walls behind it were old pictures. Sepias and black and whites, with a single person in every one. I walked around the island, dragging my feet, and stared at them. It was the same man in every one.
It was Pancho.
The two walls were filled floor to ceiling in a gallery setting. It was a chronicle of his time. It was damn amazing. I wondered if he took the photos or had someone take them.
The door opened and I whipped around. Pancho was setting down two crates. He opened them carefully. From one shot a rotund feline in shades of brown. She yelled and yelled as she looked around, until her eyes settled on me. I fell to my knees as she waddled over and climbed into my lap. From the second slinked out a thinner, darker cat. He was much smaller and slight, and very very nervous. He, too, shot across the room to me once he spotted me. I sprawled on the floor and hugged them both too me.
Pancho make awkward sounds. “I don’t know how ghosts work,” he said. He shrugged. “But I can take all your stuff and bring it here. I’ve got another room.” I babbled at him. It was complete nonsense. Pancho patted his thighs. “I’m taking that as a yes.” He pointed across the living room to one of three doors. “I’m just gonna go make a bed for you,” he said.
There was a long time where I just stayed on the floor, smooching and hugging my cats even though they didn’t want the affection. My rotund child, Anna – Actually, Grand Duchess Anna Petrovna, but semantics – yelled as I buried my face in her stomach. She was purring. What a little liar. My other cat, Cracker Jacks, very gently meowed as he settled on my stomach. I heard Pancho walking past me as he made up the room. He stopped and his knees cracked.
“It’s getting close to morning,” he said softly.
“How did you get my kids so easily?” I asked instead.
He shrugged. “I have my ways,” he said. Vampire ways, probably. Fair enough. I wouldn’t push it. He ran a hand over Anna’s back. “I have to sleep soon, but you do whatever.”
I stared at him, at his stupid teal and brown hair and his stupid narrow face and hooked nose and giant ass eyes. What a stupid kid. What a nice kid. “Thanks,” I finally said.
Pancho shrugged. “We uh…” He cleared his throats and his eyes darted around. “We supes gotta stick together.”
Yeah. Supes. That’s the community name now. He patted my head and stood. “Hey, how old are you?” I asked. His mouth dropped open. “Is that a vampire faux pas I just committed?” I asked again.
“Uhhh,” was his response. He shrugged. “Nineteen.” I almost protested. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? Who in their right mind decided ‘oh hey, this kid is a tasty morsel, how about I convert him into a vampire?’ That’s, like, what parents do when they send their ten year olds to bible camp. “I’m going to bed now.” I tilted my head as I followed his form with my eyes. He opened the middle door in the wall. The room beyond was completely dark. Like. Horror movie dark. Roll for dark vision dark. I didn’t even know if he had windows. Maybe he didn’t.
What all was true for vampires?
I opened my mouth to ask but Pancho shut the door behind him. I saw he had one of those door fit things underneath it, the kind you use in winter to keep your warm air inside the house. There was another on the top of the door. Neat.
The fat Anna Banana crawled under my chin and sprawled across my chest and throat, pinning my head into that really awkward position. The sun rose. Kept rising. Made a bright square right on my face. I suffered. But I refused to move because my cats were asleep. Was I a great mom, or what?
Finally, Anna moved and padded somewhere and I heard the sound of claws in litter and wondered when the HELL Pancho had brought that, too. Weird. Vampires were weird. Cracker Jacks followed her and I attempted to roll backwards, heels over head, and failed with a choking sound. I climbed to my knees instead. I guess being a ghost didn’t come with cool supernatural powers like flexibility. I looked down at my green pants and frowned.
“Do ghosts wear normal people clothes or is there a ghost mall?” I shouted towards Pancho’s room.
“Fuck off,” came the muffled reply. I shrugged. Fair. I went to one of the other two doors and opened it to find a bathroom. It was nice – as nice as an apartment bathroom could be – and I took the chance to shower. Shampoo and conditioner and soap at least cleaned me off. One new thing I have learned about being a ghost. Once I was wrapped in a towel, I dug around Pancho’s drawers until I found a case of new toothbrushes. I stole a green one. He wouldn’t mind. I hoped, anyway. I scrubbed my teeth as vigorously as I had scrubbed my body and my hair and left.
The last door was a second bedroom. Bare of anything personal, it had a bed and a closet and a dresser and windows. You know, like a room would. I opened the closet and found some of Pancho’s clothes. I wondered if he had the closet in his own bedroom full. Probably. Boy looked like he shopped at places with half naked male models pretty often. I grabbed a pair of jeans that were almost too small and a shirt that was, also, almost too small. Would people see floating clothes? How did this ghost thing work? Could I scare people?
I pondered this for so long that when I stopped pondering, my hair was dry and in awkward curls and angles. I decided to test it. Shoving my hair back, I jogged across the apartment and grabbed a piece of fruit off the counter. A lime. Perfect.
Why did Pancho have limes?
Anyway, I opened a window wide enough to stick my arm out of it. Peeking through the window, I waited until someone passed by on the sidewalk. Then, I pushed the window completely open, leaning out, and dropped the lime on the kid’s head. He yelped and looked up. But he didn’t say anything. I even waved. Stuck my hand in my shirt and waved. Still, nothing.
Neat. I mean, it still sucked that I was a ghost. But now I was a lime throwing ghost that people couldn’t see in normal non-ghost clothes. Neat. I closed the window to make sure my cats wouldn’t jump out and, also, become ghosts, and sat on the floor. I didn’t really know what else to do. I looked over to where the crates sat and saw a few backpacks were sitting with them. Pancho had the good graces to grab some of my things, too. How nice.
Us supes really DO stick together, holy hell.
When I made it to the bags, I started to open them. One was filled with clothes. Well, I was already dressed, so he’d have to deal. Another was filled with my bathroom stuff. I pulled out a full bottle of my anti-depressants and shook it. It felt necessary to take one, so I did. Honestly, I was a little afraid of not taking it, even though I was dead. I remembered, one time, when I stopped taking my shit, and spent two days sobbing and wanting to die. I didn’t feel like doing that again. I dunked the bottle back into the bag after I was done and continued to look through the bags.
The door to Pancho’s room swung open. I looked back. The apartment was dark.
“How the fuck does ghost time work?” I asked. He shrugged as he made his way to the bathroom. “It was, like, noon not even twenty minutes ago.”
“Maybe it’s like when you sleep,” he said through a yawn. He stopped in the bathroom door and lifted the green toothbrush I had used. I shrugged this time. “Don’t make me regret this,” he threatened.
“Like you would kick me out.”
“I just met you yesterday,” he pointed out.
Valid. I kept my mouth shut. He showered and primped and pampered while I dug out socks and a pair of shoes. Ghost time passed. He nudged me, fully dressed and hair styled, and I looked up. “We’re gonna see a friend of mind. She might know a little more about what happened to you than I do.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked as I stood.
He led me outside and down the stairs. “She’s a journalist. She’s got her nose so deep in the supernatural scene that she knows anything that happens before it even happens.” Pancho’s eyes landed on me. “She should have an idea.”
I held up my hand and kicked the lime I had thrown when we reached it outside. “I fully trust the community reporter with my life.” Pancho said nothing. I wondered if he regretted helping me. Probably, I mean, now he has this roommate that doesn’t contribute anything, and that he didn’t even ask for.
Common Sense stepped in and said, “Shut up, you frivolous bitch, we just died.”
Depression backed into her corner. Yeah. Take that. Why can’t I listen to Common Sense more often?
I followed Pancho to a squat building off campus, one not too far from where he lived. He didn’t even knock. Instead, he just pushed the door open and a little bell dinged his arrival. “Miss Villa?” he sang into the office room. Office was generous. It was a little suite in a building, housing four desks and a door that was probably a back room. The back door was propped open with a bright red heel. That heel pushed the door open and a girl peeked out.
Retro. Retro. Fucking Retro. She owned the retro name. A cute sweetheart dress in black and white with buttons on the front, tight curls framing her head, and the brightest red lipstick I have ever seen. It matched her shoes. She grinned. “Mr. Zapata,” she greeted cheekily.
Please be my friend.
Pancho moved me towards a desk. “This is Piper Mills.”
“Like Paper Mills?” the girl asked.
“Haaaah,” I responded.
She crossed the room and held out her hand. “Paloma Villa,” she introduced herself. When I shook her hand, her expression changed. “Oh,” she said, “Piper.”
I made an unhappy sound. “Yup, Piper,” I said, I shoved my hands in the deep front pockets of the jeans I wore. “The girl that apparently killed herself.”
“Apparently?” Paloma asked. She kicked her heels off and sat in a chair. “The paper said it was a suicide. Open and shut.”
“Pap—I was in the paper?” I asked. I rounded the desk.
She turned the screen off. “You probably shouldn’t read it,” she murmured, “Maybe just…take a seat.”
“I’m not sensitive, I’m dead,” I stated. I crossed my arms. “Pancho said you’d know about things about…ghosts. Can you tell me?”
Paloma sighed. “Let’s go somewhere else,” she said. She turned the computer off and stood. I followed.
#ghost protag#My writing#original writing#my original writing#original works#suicide trigger warning#suicide tw
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To Be Young & In Love (Part 1)
Genre: Fluff + (a little) Angst
Word Count: 1,505
Description: Being in love with your brother’s best friend was risky, but Kim Taehyung was worth all the risks.
firstlove!taehyung, secret relationship, bffs!vmin
(There is cursing in this, so be wary!)
Being Park Jimin’s little sister automatically made you one of the most well known kids at school. Your brother was well-liked amongst teachers, admired by fellow students, and excelled in pretty much everything from athletics to academics. Girls at school threw envious looks at you when you walked through the halls with Jimin and his heartthrob group of friends. Guys learned not to approach you because everyone knows that Park Jimin’s sister is off-limits.
But you didn’t really care about other guys, because the one who had your heart was none other than Jimin’s closest friend, Kim Taehyung. His beautiful smile, his handsome face, and the aura that surrounded him- everything about him took your breath away when he was around. Your crush may have developed into love over the years, but you never acted on your feelings because you knew that if your brother found out, he would forbid you from ever seeing the ethereal boy again. And you didn’t want to risk breaking up their indispensable friendship.
So you were beyond ecstatic when Jimin was to stay at school for his Student Body Vice-President duties, and could no longer walk home with you. Instead, he appointed Taehyung as your “bodyguard”, because he was just too paranoid about his precious baby sister getting kidnapped on the way home.
“Oppa, stop being so dramatic,” you said when he was still reluctant on letting you go home without him. His protectiveness was annoying sometimes, but you knew it came from a good place.
Jimin sighed as he patted your head. “Alright. Kim Taehyung, try anything funny and I’ll snap your pretty neck, you hear me?” You groaned internally. Can your brother be any more embarrassing?
“Chill, man. I’ll watch her like my own sister,” Taehyung said. Your heart clenched, wishing to be anything else than that.
“Go now, before I change my mind and make you stay here and wait for me,” Jimin teased. You smacked your brother’s arm and he finally said goodbye, leaving you to walk home with pretty much the love of your life.
You didn’t imagine how nerve-wrecking it would be to be alone with Taehyung. Walking together side by side, your hand would occasionally brush his, shooting an entire fire up your arm. You cursed yourself for being so inexperienced.
“Y/N,” he called after a while of silent walking. His voice was deep and calm like a sea before the storm, and you melted when you met his piercing eyes.
“Yeah?” you reply with a gulp. He sent you a smile that almost, just almost, made your knees go weak.
“I know we’re supposed to go straight home, but it’s such a waste of a beautiful day. Do you want to do something fun?”
It didn’t take much contemplation, or any at all, for you to agree furiously. Honestly, you would go to a damn wasteland with him if he asked with that smile of his.
He chuckled at your eagerness, and he carefully took your hand, while you begged your heart to stop pounding so hard.
“Oppa! Wait! You’re going too fast!” You struggled out as you pedaled the rented bike as fast as you could.
He let out a hearty laugh. “C’mon, Y/N. Why are you at turtle speed?”
The two of you were speeding alongside Han River, the sun creating sparkles in the clear river.
“The slowest one to reach that pole has to buy ice cream!” he challenged. Before you could even reply, he began to zoom ahead, leaving you to force yourself to start pedaling like mad again in a futile attempt to catch up.
When you reached the pole, Taehyung was already resting against it, with the bike parked besides him. You pouted at your defeat, and he ruffled your hair when you start blaming the loss on his longer legs and having a broken bike.
“The bikes are all the same, Y/n,” he reasoned. You stuck your tongue at him and walked back to the bike rental shop. The sun was starting to dip a little and you didn’t even realize how quickly time was passing.
“Let’s go get our ice cream now, Ms. Slowpoke.” Taehyung grabbed your hand again, and the familiar fire burned up to envelope your entire body.
“Pick whatever you want, it’s on me.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow at your feigned offer. But a loss was a loss, and although you didn’t even promise anything you accepted the penalty. Taehyung picked up a drumstick cone while you grabbed an ice cream sandwich along with a few other snacks.
The two of you walked towards the cash register and Taehyung smirked before grabbing all the stuff out of your hands.
“Did you really think I was going to make you pay?” he said, lightly flicking your forehead. You stood dumbfounded and watched as he paid for everything.
“Your boyfriend is so sweet,” the cashier gushed.
You felt your face immediately heat up. “He’s not my boyfriend, just a friend,” you quickly corrected.
“Oh, my bad! You guys are still cute together though.”
“I’m not her boyfriend, but also not just a friend,” Taehyung said cryptically with a wink. He walked off with the bag of snacks and you scurried after him.
“What did you mean by that? You can’t just say weird things, people will misunderstand.” Taehyung chuckled while handing you your ice cream.
“It’s whatever you want it to mean.” That just made things even more confusing, but you shrugged it off.
The two of you talked about nearly everything under the sun on the way home. Without Jimin there, you didn’t feel restrained from being more personal with Taehyung.
“So are you going to take over your dad’s business? And design houses and stuff?” You asked with pure curiosity. You remembered Taehyung having a fabulous house and that his dad worked in architecture.
“Maybe,” he replied. “Or I might find something else I like along the away.”
You hummed in agreement. “I think I want to be a teacher! Kids are cute,” you said. You breakout into a nursery song and Taehyung bursted into laughter.
“You? A teacher? You can barely pass Algebra.”
“So?” you sharply defended. “I want to teach children, not high schoolers.”
“But aren’t you still a kid yourself?” You glared at him, ignoring the way your heart squeezed. Don’t let him affect you.
“Shut up,” you said lamely. You quickened your pace when you saw your house, unable to fight off being upset that your crush clearly only saw you as a child.
“Goodbye, Taehyung-oppa. Thanks for bringing me home,” you murmured, rushing towards the door. Before you could reach the doorknob, you felt your wrist being grabbed and you were spun around to face him.
Taehyung smiled at you with that perfect smile of his, and you felt your weak heart melt into a hopeless puddle.
“Dummy. I don’t actually think you’re a kid,” he said.
“O-oh.” Fool, stop stuttering!
“Y/n.” There goes your non-existent will. “What about you?”
"What about me?” His stare was starting to make you sweat, but you stayed strong and didn’t look away.
“Do you only think of me like a brother?”
You shook your head while looking down. Okay, the eye contact got too much.
“Hmm. Okay. Do you like me then?” You freeze at that, but slowly nodded your head.
“Good. Because I like you too.” And before you could look up in surprise, he swooped down and his plump lips met yours in a chaste kiss.
Your breathing hitched and you absolutely cannot define the insane emotions that were running through you. First of all, Kim Taehyung liked you. Second of all, Kim Taehyung was kissing you in front of your house, where your brother or parents could see any moment now.
But those thoughts were just a small fraction of your frantic brain. You couldn’t believe how soft his lips felt on yours, and how gentle his hands were as he held your cheeks.
“Shit. I’ve been waiting forever to do that. Jimin’s gonna kill me,” Taehyung breathed, pulling away and resting his forehead on yours. His beautiful eyes peered at yours, and you still can’t believe this was happening.
“Screw Jimin,” you whispered. He sends you a small smile filled with mirth.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You nodded and waved goodbye, staring at his back in awe as he walked away.
Kim Taehyung was full of surprises. He teased you, twisting and kneading your emotions like it was putty. His every action made all your senses tingle, and you were somewhat upset with how much he affected you. But you couldn’t deny the comfortable warmth that poured over your body whenever he looked at you, or the way he knew exactly how to lead you straight into his trap. He was like a sweet toxin, full of temptations and addiction. It was treading in the danger zone, and once you got a taste of him, you know you won’t be able to stop.
A/N: zOMG my first ever fic...!! I’ve had this written for a long time and I finally decided to complete it. I have so many papers to write but I chose to do this instead... I’m a slave to my BTS feels :’) Please go easy on me and excuse my poor English and grammar LMAOOO
Any comments / forms of feedback are greatly appreciated <3
#bts#taehyung#taehyung fanfic#taehyung scenarios#taehyung fluff#taehyung angst#bts v#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts fluff#fanfiction#bts angst#taetae#firstfic woaw
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TMNT Fic 2k16 Raph x Reader Safe in your arms
This is a TMNT fic requested by Nonny. I had so much fun writing this! I hope you enjoy it. :)
Summary: You were just coming home from a long day of work, and you were suddenly ambushed by strange men behind an Alley. A certain Red clad ninja turtle comes and saves the day. You do the unexpected and caught him off guard.
Warnings: slight cursing
It was a cold night on the streets of New York. You were just getting back from your job. You work for a telemarketing company downtown. You were walking in the streets alone at night. You didn’t have any means of transportation. You lived close enough to your job so walking to and from work wasn’t a big deal. I mean there was always the bus but you didn’t want to have to deal with all the crowds. You only took it when you needed to travel some place far. Plus you could use the exercise. Not that you were fat or anything. You were actually very fit and had a very nice figure. You were gorgeous in fact. Any guy would be lucky to have you. You lived in New York for about two and a half years now but there were times when you would get lost.
You suddenly stop in your tracks. You turn around behind you. You feel like someone was following behind you but you brush it off as you thought it was just your imagination. Little did you know you were being followed by not just one but four different men dressed in black like ninja’s. You wonder around the streets of New York still debating if you should get take out or have left overs at home. It was tiring eating the same old thing after a while so you had finally decided to go across the Japanese restaurant you’ve been dying to try. Before you could go across the street you were distracted by strange noises coming from the alleyway. You thought it might have been an animal making noises, so you proceed to continue to cross the street.
Once you got your food you were on your way back to your apartment. Then you hear the strange noises again. This time it sounded more like laughs and deep voices. Surely not animal at all. “That’s weird.” You say to yourself. You know you shouldn’t but curiosity got the better of you and decided to go check out the commotion. “Hello? Anyone there?” You say as the talking gradually grew as you got closer. Finally you were in the alleyway and from behind you came one of the strange men that had been following you and wrapped his arm around your body and held a knife to your neck.
“Hey there beautiful, you looking for a good time?” He leaned in closer to your neck and sniffs your hair. “Hey boys lets have some fun with this one. She’ll be perfect for us to have some fun.
Your eyes start to get wide and you try to stay calm but you were so scared out of your wits. “No please let me go. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just tell me what it is? Money, food? Please I’ll give you anything just let me go!” You begged but they wouldn’t let you go.
“Oh we want something a little more if you know what I mean.” The man looks at you and gives you a creepy smile. You try not to cry but the tears make their way down your cheeks and you start to shake uncontrobably. This could be it; you could die right here right now in these strange men hands. “Alright sweetheart here’s how it’s going down, we’re gonna take you back to our place and have a little fun. But first how about we give you a little preview of what we’re gonna do to you?” They all grin and smirk and tie you up behind your back and they start to strip you down to your underwear. You tried to get away from them but they were too strong for you to fight off. You start to scream but they quickly cover your mouth up where no one could hear you. Or so they thought.
Up on the roof was a certain red bandana wearing giant green turtle. It was none other than Raphael himself. The rebel was out blowing off some steam after getting into one his daily fights with his older brother Leonardo. “Stupid Leo.” Raph says. “What does he know about anything? It’s tha same shit ova and ova. I’m tired of this team. There are times where I just wanna go off on my own, doing things my way!” The giant turtle says as he paces back in forth. He was cut from his thoughts by loud screaming and loud talking from below the alleyway. “What the?” The giant turtle looks at the bottom and see not just any men but some Foot Clan themselves. He saw how they were sexually harassing you and would not stand for that at all. “Why those good fa nothin bastards!” Oh how they made his blood boil. He hated that there were people like that harassing poor people like you. An innocent civilian that has done absolutely nothing wrong. He had to stop this now. He jumped down immediately like lighting from the roof top and into the shadows of the alley.
As the Foot Clan continue to strip you down of your work clothes they stopped in their tracks as they heard a loud thud that came from behind the dumpster. They stop and stare dead in his direction. “Alright, show yourself buster, who are you?” The leader of the group says.
“Step away from tha girl.” He says in a threating voice.
“Or what?” The man says not sounding intimidated at all. Come out and show yourself punk! I ain’t afraid of ya!” The man says still not sounding scared.
“I’m gonna give ya one last chance, step away..from tha girl..” He says his voice getting deeper as a warning to them.
“And I said make me asshole!” Come on out and fight me like a man, unless you a chicken!” The man mocks at Raph. But Raph gave the men one too many chances. “If ya don’t come out, we’ll just make ya. Alright boys, attack!” He commands the other men to attack and they did as they were told, charging toward the dumpster.
Like lightning he came out from behind the dumpster and knocked all of the other men out cold, leaving the leader standing with no backup. As Raph started walking toward him, what the leader saw made him shit his pants and wished he had never pissed him off. Okay look man I-I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me. Okay I’ll give you anything. Just please don’t hurt me! You want tha girl take her she’s yours!
What you saw shocked you not just the way he looked but how he was able to knock out all those men with a single blow. And his speed was phenomenal like a ninja. Just who was this guy, and why did he save you? But you didn’t have time to worry about that. You were still trying to figure how to get yourself out of this mess.
Raph leaned down and picked the guy up with one hand. “If I eva see you around here again, you’re gonna wish you had neva pissed me off in tha first place!” Raph gave him a low growl and threw him on the ground. And with that the guy agreed and fled and never looked back.
Raph turned around and looked at you. Usually he would hide back in the shadows but it was too late and you had already seen him. His cover had been blown. ‘Nice goin big guy!’ He says to himself. He walks over toward you. “Uh…guess I should untie…” He took one of his sai’s and cut the rope and gently but firmly pulled the tape from around your mouth.
It was your turn to start acting all dramatic and scream “monster!” or “freak”. Now he had wished he had kept you tied so he wouldn’t have to deal with those hurt words. But to his surprise you did the complete opposite of what anyone would do and hugged him tightly not wanting to let go ever. Was this really happening right now? This kind of situation hardly ever happens to him or any of the brothers for that matter so it was all so new to him he didn’t know how to act. “Thank you…for saving my life.” you say and look up at him in his eyes. Not knowing what to do he did the one thing he could only do in this situation, and that was to wrap his big arms around you. You felt so safe in his arms. He was like your angel sent from the heavens. You didn’t see him as a monster or a freak but a good person and a guy with a heart of gold.
“Um…don’t mention it.” He says with his arms still wrapped around your waist.
"My names (Y/N). What’s yours?“ You say to him introducing yourself.
“It’s Raphael…but you can call me Raph.”
“Raph, can we stay like this for a while please? I feel safe in your arms.” You say still looking into his eyes.
“Uh sure thing (Y/N).” With that you rested your head on his plastron and you both stay like that for a good 10 minutes. This was going to be the start of something new, you both could feel it.
The End.
Phew how do you like this story? It just came to me. I was inspired by old action movies I saw a while back to help me wright this story. Anyway let me know what you guys think. I’ll be righting more fic’s soon. Thank you! :)
#tmnt#tmnt 2k14#tmnt 2k16#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt out of the shadows#tmnt leonardo#tmnt raphael#tmnt donatello#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt splinter#tmnt april o'neil#tmnt casey jones#tmnt shredder#tmnt fanfiction#tmnt fic#fanfiction#fanfic#tmnt raph x reader
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You Have A Home Ch. 3
The twins have gone and left and now the small town of Gravity Falls will go back to normal, at least, as normal as it can be.
For Fiddleford that means taking care of himself the best he can while his father balances his jobs and barely has time to cook dinner. It should be easy to fall back into the routine but after a whole summer of affection and friendship and battling dream demons something feels off now. Something in his gut telling him that nothing can really be as normal as it used to be.
A Summer Out of Jesery: Years After Unedited
Chapter 3: Don’t Let The Rain Get You Down (Ao3)
September had fully settled in on the small town of Gravity Falls. Gone was the last remains of the summer heat, the green leaves, and the leisure that came from the wonderful time of the year. Parents were back to their jobs if they had taken time off and children were back in school to educate themselves to become the next generation of adults.
Fiddleford found the whole concept of school rather boring and sometimes a little slow but when it came to the start of the year it was worthless to skip days. He needed to settle into the flow, figure out what classes he could skip a few days in, and learn when he would have to walk home on his own.
The boy sat on the grass outside the school. It was almost an hour after the last class had let out and his father had promised to come and pick him up. He was hesitant to get up and start the walk home in case the man showed up but he was getting that side eyed look from the teacher that was supposed to watch the car line. The lady probably had been things to do then hang out at Gravity Falls Middle School with a lonely eighth grader.
Fidds pulled up a few more strands of grass before he stood up and brushed off the loose dirt. He was not going to be the reason this lady stood around for hours. The teen pulled his bookbag back onto his back and slowly started to head towards the main road so he could head into town. It was a long walk from the middle school to his house; he would have to be quick to make it there before it got too dark.
The woman said nothing as he started off alone. Maybe some part of Fiddleford wanted her to tell him to stay, that he did not have to walk alone, or maybe even offer him a ride. That part was delusional; he understood that. He had gotten this far in life with very little help from anyone and he would continue to do that.
The young teen started to hum a song to himself as he walked away from the school and back towards town. The little tune was there to keep his thoughts at bay. He was sure that his father had just forgotten and that it was not some terrible accident that had prevented his pickup. He was sure there was no terrible accident that would have hurt his father terribly.
Fiddleford’s pace picked up as he moved towards the town faster; his little heart picked up speed.
“Shouldn’t think like that,” he muttered to himself quietly, “Shouldn’t think like that. Pa is fine. Bet he just had to work late, is all.”
Fiddleford’s feet moved faster.
“Probably will be home before me at the rate I am walking.”
He was practically jogging at this point. The main town was getting closer.
“Probably…probably worrying over nothing,” he whispered to himself as he broke into a sprint.
His feet smacked down into the pavement as he tried to get to town faster. Once he was in town he could take the quickest route home and he could stop this kind of worry. His lungs burned from the activity and the added weight of his back pack.
The weight of the books moving around with every hurried step was his down fall. The poor teenager lost his balance and tripped over his own foot so he was sent down onto the concrete. The sting of the scrapes the hard surface left on his hands and knees made his eyes water. His glasses happily stayed put on his nose.
He forced back the tears and sat up slowly; the dumb back pack almost sending him falling backwards like a turtle. Today was just not his day it seemed.
Fiddleford observed the little dots of red that had started to appear in the pink scrapes. Dirt that had gotten wedged between the skin had started to get soaked with blood. A splotch of water fell onto his palms and Fidds watched it as it slowly ran down the crevices and fell from his hand.
Thunder rumbled above him as two more drops fell onto his scraped palms. He looked up at the rumble to find the sky had gone dark and a rain cloud had started to cover the sky.
The sense of dread and worry had started to change into anger. The anger did not last as it settled into a dull numbness as more drops of water landed on him. He pushed himself back onto his feet with a grimace as more dirt got wedged into his scraped palms.
The rain fall started to come down faster as he ran down the side-walk. The sky just seemed to get darker and darker as he hurried down the side-walk and rain began to stream down his glasses. The water obscured his vision and made the journey much harder than it should have been.
The teenager stumbled to a stop when a bright light blinded him and the sound of a car came to his attention. He expected the vehicle to get right past him but it stopped just a little behind him. A bubble of hope spread in Fidds’ heart that it was his father. That he had worried over nothing and that the man had just gotten caught up at work and had rushed to get him from the middle school.
A person got out of the car and he heard the pattering of rain drops on an umbrella. The teen’s heart started to pound in excitement and hope as the rain soaked through his t-shirt and drenched his hair.
“Fiddleford?”
The voice was not his father’s and he felt one of the few threads of hope he had shrivel up and die in his heart.
“Miss…Miss Pines?”
The figure came over and put the umbrella over his head. Mabel Pines stood over him with a rainbow umbrella. The rain that had started to drench him suddenly stopped falling on him as the woman got close enough to hold the umbrella over the two of them.
“What are you doing out here in this weather?”
Fiddleford stared down at his shoes and noticed the red that was running down his bare legs with the rain water.
“Walking home from school.”
Mabel frowned. The woman checked her watch and frowned, “At this time? I thought the middle school got out sooner.”
Fiddleford shivered as thunder once again shook the earth. It was louder this time so it meant that soon they would be seeing the flashes of lightening.
“I stayed after,” Fidds shrugged, “I didn’ know it was going to rain.”
“Doesn’t mean that you should be walking around in this storm,” Mabel said seriously, “You could get sick or lost or…” Mabel waved her hand around in a vague gesture, “My point is your father should have come to pick you up.”
Fiddleford shrugged again and looked down the sidewalk.
“I’ve walked home a lot before in the rain. This ain’t that big of a deal.”
A bright flash lit the sky and thunder followed it not a second after. Fiddleford put his hands over his ears at the noise. The circle of shelter the umbrella had created was starting to lose its purpose as the wind picked up with the rain drops. The water splashed at the two people from either side.
Mabel put her arm around the boy to shelter him and started to lead him to the car.
“Well, I am not going to be another person to leave you out in this storm.”
“Miss Pines, you don’t got to do nothing. I am fine with walking.”
“Look, pumpkin, we are either going to get in the car to avoid this rain or we are going to stand out in this storm until it passes. You only have these two options.”
Fiddleford frowned and looked down at his bleeding knees. The scabs had started to form over the dirt and other things that had been on the sidewalk. The storm around them had started to pick up the intensity so when the rain it the ground is splattered onto their legs. With the stubbornness of Miss Mystery there was no way around it and he was not one to let an old woman stand out in a storm because he did not want help.
“Alright,” Fiddleford sighed and let Mabel lead him to her car.
There was some relief when he did get ushered into the dry interior of the old car. The feeling of misery thanks to the chilly rain had been slightly driven away but it left him shivering. He was pretty sure that when he stepped out of the car he would have glitter stuck to him just because he knew how this old woman worked after a whole summer around her.
Mabel got into the driver’s seat not a second after he had gotten into the back of the car. She closed the door and threw the wet umbrella onto the seat next to her as she looked back at him.
“There should be a towel back there somewhere,” she said as she searched the back seats messy contents with her eyes, “I don’t think I took them out after the last pool trip.”
Fiddleford nodded and looked around for a towel. He found one under an empty cardboard box and shook it out before he started to wipe off some of the water from his face. Streaks had already started to dry on his glasses’ lenses and he did his best to wipe them away.
Mabel did not turn back to face the front of the car until she was sure Fiddleford was settled and had gotten some of the water off himself. The old woman took her time to pull away from the side-walk.
Fiddleford did not seem to care that the car was headed in the opposite direction. Almost all the roads in Gravity Falls connected to each other. The town was small and practically was a loop. No matter which roads you took you would eventually end up where you wanted to go as long as you did not turn out of town.
The teenager leaned his head against the glass window and sighed. His mind started to wander to the homework he needed to complete and he hoped that the things in his book bag had not been too damaged by the rain. He was not tempted to sing along to the cheery tune Mabel had put on as she drove.
Fiddleford stayed in his thoughts through two songs before he noticed something off about the route Mabel was driving him. His biggest alarm being the old woman turning away from the town and onto a familiar stretch of road. The view outside the rain splattered window was barren of buildings after a few minutes and became mostly the woods. He knew this road well; it was a road he had traveled a lot during the summer.
“Um, Miss Pines,” he said slowly. Maybe she had just forgotten he was back there, “I think yer goin’ the wrong way.”
“Nope. I am pretty sure I am going the right way,” Mabel said as she turned onto a connecting dirt road.
“But my house is on the other side of town,” Fidds said nervously.
Mabel turned the music down some more as the car bumped along the muddy dirt path. “Yep and my house is right up here.”
“But, I thought you were taking me home?”
“I am,” Mabel said as she turned onto her drive way.
“I…I mean my home, Miss Pines. Not your home.”
Mabel just hummed in response as she drove the car around the Shack to the front door. Mabel continued to hum as she turned off the car. The peppy music ended quickly and the rumble of the engine ceased.
“Miss Pines,” Fiddleford protested, “I thank ya fer the ride but I can’t stay over. I got school in the morning and my Pa-.”
“Your father will understand when I call him,” Mabel cut him off as she grabbed her umbrella.
“But I don’t wanna be a bother.”
Mabel looked at him from the mirror and she sighed. The old woman carefully turned his head and put a kind smile on her face.
“Fiddleford, you could never be a bother. Just humor an old lady for tonight, I just hate the thought of you being all alone at home in this storm.”
Fidds looked down at his knees; one leg had begun to bounce nervously.
“I have been home alone lots of times during a storm,” he protested weakly. In truth, he did not like to be alone when a storm like this hit. The teen jumped when a hand rested gently on the twitchy leg.
“Please,” Mabel said softly, “Humor me?”
Fiddleford sighed and looked up at the woman hesitantly. He wanted to protest and make her take him home. He wanted his desk and robot parts. He wanted his laptop. Most of all he wanted his father.
Fidds also did not want to hurt her feelings. He had not wanted to leave her side that last day of summer. He wanted to come back to Gravity Falls and be at the Shack.
“Alright,” he sighed, “but only so you don’t got to worry.”
Mabel smiled and squeezed his knee in an affectionate gesture. “Thank you,” she said before she turned to grab the umbrella and opened her door to open it up, “I’ll come get you so you stay dry, okay?”
Fiddleford’s nod was the only confirmation she needed before the woman disappeared into the rain.
Fidds watched her as she closed the door and walked quickly around the car to his door. With the car stopped he could hear the muffled sound of the rain drops as they quickly hit the umbrella. When his door opened the sound became louder and another boom rumbled over the sky.
“Come on, Sweet Pea,” Mabel said over the sound of the rain, “Don’t want to be standing out here too long.”
Fidds did not have to be told twice. With one last check to make sure his book bag was secure, he slipped out of the car and onto the muddy ground. Mabel closed his door quickly and made sure a hand was on him as they sprinted for the covered porch.
As soon as their feet hit the wood the door opened and Dipper stood in front of them.
“There you are, Mabel. I was starting to get worried.”
“You shouldn’t worry so much, Dipper,” Mabel laughed and splashed her brother with the water on the umbrella. “I was not in any danger.”
“Well I didn’t know that,” Dipper protested as Mabel pushed past him with Fiddleford in tow, “You could have been hurt or this storm could have brought something terrible down with it.”
“Like I said, you worry too much,” Mabel sighed and hung up her umbrella.
“I worry just the right amount,” Dipper closed the door behind him as he followed them. He would have continued the sibling bickering if he had not just noticed the boy next to Mabel, “Oh, hello Fiddleford. When did you get here?”
“I’ve been here the whole time,” Fidds whispered.
Mabel took the teen’s backpack and hung it up on the hallway hooks. “Don’t mind him, dear, I think he became a little oblivious in his old age,” Mabel said, “Now you head to the bathroom and I’ll be in there with a change of clothes and something to clean your knees. Okay?”
“Yes, Miss Pines,” Fidds replied softly and turned to leave.
“And Fiddleford.”
Fidds stopped and looked back at her.
“Calling me Mabel is still perfectly okay,” she said with a kind smile.
Fiddleford sent a smile back to her as he exited the hallway and went into the bathroom. The teen closed the door softly as he could before he sat down on the floor. His smile cracked into a broken expression as he sat on the bathroom floor. It took everything in his power not to cry in the few minutes he waited for Mabel to arrive.
The poor teen almost jumped a foot into the air when there was a knock on the door behind him. He got up to his feet quickly and moved back to sit on the edge of the tub.
“Coming in,” Mabel’s voice said after the knocks and the woman entered. “I brought some cool band-aids and one of the sweaters the boys left.”
“Thanks,” Fidds said. He hoped that his voice was not too emotionless. The teen did not want her to think he was not grateful for what she was doing.
Mabel did not seem to take note in the change of tone as she started to put something onto a cotton ball. “It’s no problem,” she said happily, “Now let’s see what the damage is.”
With a small crack from her knees and a groan, the woman kneeled in front of Fiddleford and looked at the scrapes on his knees. She gave a soft hum and then nodded with a serious expression on her face.
“These are going to take the special band-aids.”
“Special band-aids?” Fidds asked but he got no answer to the question.
“This is going to sting,” was all Mabel said before she began to dab whatever was on the cotton ball onto the first cut.
Fidds hissed in pain and held tightly to the bathtub.
“So,” Mabel said casually as she got a new cotton ball and started to clean the other knee, “Dipper is getting some soup heated up on the stove for us. I hope you don’t mind that for dinner but I haven’t had the chance to go grocery shopping yet. Was supposed to today but me and the girls got a little side tracked.” She laughed at the last statement and looked over her work.
“That’s fine,” Fidds said, “I don’t mind some soup.”
Mabel held out a hand for him and it took a moment before Fiddleford understood. After he was sure his feet were planted firmly on the ground he gave her his hand so it could be disinfected.
“You sure?” She asked, “I can see if we have any leftover pizza in the fridge or some pasta in the cupboard if you would want that.”
“I am sure, Miss Pines. Soup sounds good right now.”
Mabel sighed dramatically as she dapped the stinging liquid onto his injured palm.
“Alright, way to help me get something fun to eat,” she teased. After a moment, she motioned for the other hand and cleaned it carefully with a new cotton ball.
“Just let this dry some and then we can get them all blinged out.”
Fidds rested his hands in his lap and watched as Mabel cleaned up the cotton ball mess. He wanted to ask what she meant but that but decided it best to stay silent. There was a lot of things that did not make sense about Madam Mystery. He was just going to have accept this as something that he would not get until it happened.
He soon got his answer when the woman held out man different band-aid boxes. There were super hero ones, princess ones, rainbow ones, different shaped ones, and some he had never even seen in stores before. His eyes widened behind his glasses as he looked them all over.
“Special band-aids for a special kid. Choose whichever you want,” Mabel explained, “But you should know that the rainbow ones got bigger band-aids then some of the other ones.”
Fiddleford stared at the different options silently and then looked back up at her. He just did not understand it. She was nice to him all summer but that was because the twins were his friends. This woman had no reason to take care of him like this.
He looked back at the boxes and grabbed the rainbow ones. Mabel seemed to grin at the choice.
“I was hoping you would choose that box. Those are my favorite,” she said as she set the others down, “I just hope Stan didn’t steal all the heart ones before he left.”
“Even if he did I wouldn’t mind,” Fiddleford said as he opened the box and began to search through it, “I just want two big enough to cover up my knee.”
The teen did find a heart one as he searched the box for two rectangles. He was surprised by how large it was. The oddly shaped bandage would easily fit over the larger scrape on his right palm. Mabel helped him stick the bandages over his wounds and seemed to hum in approval.
“Now just one more thing before I can let you get changed,” the woman said.
Before Fidds could ask what that was a sticker was stuck into the middle of the heart on his right palm. It was a circle and in the middle of it was a cartoon drawing of butter with the words ‘Get Butter Soon’ around it. The middle schooler could not help but to smile at it.
“Now it should heal faster,” Mabel stated matter-of-factly before she stood up with a small groan. “Welp, I will let you change. Just follow the smell of terrible Dipper cooking when you are ready.”
“Alright,” Fidds said and slid off his seat. “Thank you, Miss Mabel.”
“Any time, Sugar.” Mabel opened the door and smiled back at him, “Any time.” With those last words, she left him alone in the bathroom.
Fiddleford looked down at the punny sticker on his hand and smiled at it. There was just something about it, other than the terrible joke, that made him smile like it was the best thing he had ever been given.
#unedited#gravity falls#gravity falls fic#gravity falls au#gravity falls au fic#mabel pines#dipper pines#mystery twins#Fiddleford McGucket#grauntie mabel#great uncle dipper#relativity falls#relativity falls fic#chapter 3#Summer Out of Jersey#Summer Out of Jersey: Years After
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plot
Plot points : You decide to go with the plan of killing all the guards and taking their weapons You know you can take them, but it is going to be a lot harder than you thought The next day, as usual when you wake up, your mother asks if everything was alright "Yeah, " you reply, before remembering that she isn't here right now Iona: clever, kind, hateful, endless, bound less, and most importantly the only one who actually cares about you You walk out of your room in the middle of the night, feeling very anxious The town has been in an uproar for days over this matter; people are talking about how they should kill Iona or something similar It's like everyone wants her dead so badly that nothing else matters anymore Bound : enter zarpentine manuscript You open up Iona's door slowly; she is sound asleep You look at her, at her peaceful face illuminated by the moonlight coming in through her window; so fragile, so vulnerable It would be so easy to just kill her now, bring this whole nightmare to an end Iona opens her eyes and looks at you, staring into your own This lasts for several seconds, before Iona breaks eye contact and gives a weak smile "Hi, Enter zarpentine manuscript: order alcholic drink, order fruit juice order plain water I say nothing, I just stare at her like some kind of psychopath as she awkwardly smiles back Eventually, when it becomes quite clear that I have no intentions of saying anything, she slowly asks "so did you want to try our experiment right now? Yes : Her eyes widen as you open your mouth and a booming voice comes out; this shocks the both of you enough that she backs away a little bit order fruit juice, Order fruit juice: take glass, drink, order more "Tekeli-li! " you declare in your horrible attempt at the language She gives a look of approval, and sits down at the table with her notebook and a pen She happily begins sketching out plans for her next major experiment After having something to drink and eat, you join her at the table and await your orders from command Order alcholic drink: strong spirit world lager, goblin market ale dark fyne mead, old sotkey sour (Sigh) Though I would rather drink milk that tastes like wine, " I mutter to myself The innkeeper seemed like he was trying a bit too hard when this stuff was placed in front of me After looking through the bottles, it would appear there was more of a focus on the bottle than what was inside, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth goblin market ale, unrealistic goal - if ; (alcohalic drink) repeated This was unrealistic for a teenager in the early 1800s Something in my stomach tells me even if I wanted to, I couldn't stand this swill Suddenly I feel very dizzy and begin to fall backward and lose consciousness You awaken in your bedroom at around noon the next day unrealistic goal - if ; Strong spirit world lager: check for critical liver injury As you move your arms around you're glad to find that the alcohol hasn't damaged any internal organs You get up, feeling a bit dizzy as you walk to the bathroom After checking to make sure you didn't somehow kill yourself while blacked out, you ask Iona if anything out of the ordinary happened last night "Not really, " She replies Check for critical liver injury : Your drinking hand-crafted alcohol from fictional worlds doesn't seem to have had any long lasting negative effects You thank Iona and ask her if she wants to continue working on whatever it is you guys are supposed to be working on she says she needs more time before she can get back to it, so now might be a good time to make some headway on your Zarpentine submission Stop at bar : notice stranger, hot pockets As you sit down at the bar and order a drink a man in a strange blue uniform takes a seat next to you You get the impression he might be of some importance as he sports colorful, wide pants "You wouldn't happen to have any hot pockets, would you? " he asks His simple words send off warning signals in my head but my tummy grumbles in protest to this doubt and I tell him my favorite take away is just down the street Notice stranger : converse with stranger, flirt with stranger, ignore stranger Of all the things you can do in your free time, going to get this stranger a hot pocket seems the least harmful You hop into your car and drive down to Super Spicy Joker Hot Pocket Express, where the take-out lady smiles at you in recognition and hands you a steaming, fresh hot pocket She even gives you a warning that your exhaust seems to be leaking "Will do, " you tell her as you turn towards the door Flirt with stranger: follow stranger outside, refuse stranger You've had more than enough weirdness for one day and tell the man all you want to do is go home He gets back into his car without another word and speeds off Not sure what that was all about but I'm home free! Not much challenge on main road, even if a spooky tree does cause you to slip off the road just a bit Oh? Already crashed? Follow stranger outside: confrontation with stranger You park your car at an angle to block the man in as you approach him "Listen, friend, " you begin, "You've been following me all day and that makes me uncomfortable So if you don't get out of here right now I'll haaaaaave to blow yooooooooooou awa-! It transpires that he is actually a rather large tortoise who was bored and wanted someone new to follow around for a bit of fun Confrontation with stranger: shoot stranger, let him walk away You don't want to waste expensive ammo on a tortoise or let himself walk away and then continue to stalk you Unless you figure out an even less violent solution Drive away : You hop into your car and drive slowly past the man, lowering your windows as you go Just as you had hoped, he follows the movement and heads towards your vehicle in an effort to continue the pursuit Shoot stranger: kill stranger, wound stranger, miss stranger It would seem that you hit your target directly in his left eye He lets out an unbearable scream as a geyser of blood shoots up from the wound and sprinkles down upon his shell You turn your vehicle around in order to collect him but by the time you have done this, there are dozens of tiny tortoises surrounding the wounded, large one A painful fate has definitely befallen him "That's one down, Kill stranger : flee scene, murder arrest "Yes! You've killed him! He and all of his brothers have been taken care of, all thanks to you and your team! " You're given a status shaped like a star for your effort Wound stranger: assualt arrest You shoot for just his eye and succeed Not only does the man yelp in pain as blood trickles down from his face, but there is a definite lack of urgency in his steps He's not quite dead yet but that definitely won't be the stranglers problem Unless you or someone else laters him to death, that is "Not good enough With these injuries he'll need medical attention fast Miss stranger : threathen by the autorities "Your aim is suspect and so is your state of mind The exact details of his death are unclear at this moment but my gut tells me you aren't just incompetent but dangerous as well I hope our machine doesn't fail, it'll have the opposite effect end of line Thanks for reading through that! Please comment and vote on which program you would like to see make the cut! 0 live : camp indians 00 live : dan dachshund 000 live : tortoise torturing 000, 001 live : explosive tortoise 003 live : illegal immigrant tortoise 042 live : purebred pet turtle 999, 567 live : the real ghostbusters 993, 426 live : "a homeless man once robbed us" 0000000000000000000000 stretched supporting cannonade training mannequins the gang problem of london 064 live : force diversity hire 289 live : acting 7 deadly sins 363 live : starting over from nothing 003, 548 live : mouse made advances, broken harpoon gun "what on earth is this? Camp indians : camp, 00 live, aesthetic of lixie ant fort, nameless aesthetic of lixie ant fort, Camp live : camp delivery men, camp rests for recreation and business uses Large buildings house workers that process lumber for furniture while smaller cabins store it In the 'indian' camp you spot a large bronze statue standing guard over one of the camps two entrances Though magnificent in stature and its workmanship, you immediately find something off about it It depicts a crucified man and as you get closer to it you realize this 'statue' breathes and speaks to you camp deliverymen, Feathered delivery theater : camp delivery, feathered delivery theater of camp indians Your walk leads you through something that resembles an 80s glam rock music video, with the entirety of the camp being dragged along by a giant gecko that basks in the moonlight just beyond the horizon You're suddenly shoved off to the side as you stumble into a crowd of lumber mill workers eagerly taking bet on which louse will win tonight's fight "A thousand marks on GrayZone! Dan dachshund : dan, unwavering male canine pattern You watch in awe as a large army of lice marches on a small battalion of men, wheeling out giants of metal with massive guns set atop The louse soldiers look far more menacing than the mill workers you've seen so far, but nowhere near as hostile as the mutants you've grown accustomed too It's comical watching them try to goose step while keeping pace Truly this army had to go through basic training before being let out on its own Dan live : dan support live deliverymen, comical marching , wheeling out giants of metal and pest control measures against the likes of you In front of one of the camp's administrative buildings the pigs line up It is a literal row of men and woman in uniform, some old and some young Something about them just seems unnatural, though after witnessing so much you are able to let it go without even blinking an eye An old general stands at attention in front dan support, Stretched supporting cannonade : stretched supporting cannonade of dan dachshund You see a chaotic room overflowing with people running around and yelling at each other "FIRE! " someone yells off to the side "You idiots! What are you waiting for? Fire! Off in the distance far away from the fire there is one man stationed at a desk trying to direct everything The men at this attention just watch everyone run around in confusion The men at that attention just watch everyone run around and chaos in confusion The man at the attention desk tries to get one of them to help put out the fire, but he turns back to his paperwork instead You see him taking orders from a general stationed high above in a fancy office who barks down every order Before you continues along your journey, you watch him slitting the throats of everyone he can get his hands on Mansion : camp indians, mansion remains, torture mansion As you enter through the front door You enter what seems to be some sort of thriving community center People of diverse sorts mingle about what used to be lavish rooms with perhaps a bit too much gold for a humble settler's town You submit to an old wise man who begins chanting before a large copper spoon "Approach " you hear a familiar voice whisper in your ear as the door coldly swings open "THAT DOOR IS NEVER LOCKED! You are met by a small gathering whom seem oblivious to anything out of the ordinary happening A man in a fancy gray suit and red tie approaches you "So, you'd like to fault my fine establishment? " he says handing you several pieces of paper on a clipboard, his face twisted in a wide smile You would be one of the many filling out legal forms while arguing for your freedom Marble stairs ascend tile into what seems to be an auditorium, rows of ivory seats starched and ready for the show You, and everyone else are entranced by theatrics taking place not on the stage, but in the rafters A brilliant magician is bent over, his head in the body of a woman while his feet dance and skip around shining cups Incapa bob's and weaves from one spot to another, whirling about with hands down at his sides, smiling at the crowd before raising a shimmering hand just above his brow finger Then he winks directly at you The entire audience throwing their heads back instantly caught up in hysterical laughter as the magician twirls with maddening speed, sending his cloak out flipping and leaping into the air like an acrobat sending his feet clapping together above his head Incapa sits before you before suddenly disappearing: and re-appearing behind you "Concelo! " comes a howl from the crowd Calming, Incapa looks over at the old man in a black tweed suit wearing spectacles and raises an eyebrow "Connect me" the professor repeats showing Incapa his open palm The magician turns towards you grinning, lowering his palm he pauses just to look up and over your shoulder while making small clutching motions at the air "Don't look now, " he says, "but I think that you are on my list Grasping your shoulders he turns you around and to face the back of an obese woman shamelessly eating noodles from a large aluminum pan spilled over with cold water "No matter, I could never forget your sweet little face, blowing you a kiss His hand grasps a woman in black by the wrist, cuttinig her screams off mid air as her body twists and pops in his strong grip Perhaps you are being dramatic, but it seems he slugs her hard in the stomach; twisting her head unnaturally while holding her to his chest while upon her feet she does a little dance Her thick legs stretching out of proportion with thin stilts of bone And with a twirl he sets her down, gently himself, and winks once again Bu you can see the blood now, staining the satin of her dress from underneath the corners of her mouth She exits with the audience clapping, as despite it all, they are entranced by this bizarre sickness of personality "Not the act you were expecting? " he says chidingly Raising the same hand he caught you with once again, he runs his other slowly over your body before coming to a rest curled in a claw at the nape of your neck You swallow hard, so does he and leaning ever closer he runs his thumb over your lips "Cat got your tongue? " is all he asks ever so softly Each new sentence soft like a feather and tickling or scratching at various places on your body Like your thigh Or your armpit And not precisely in the places you'd expect "I think, " Incapa says, "that you would look lovely Nude of course, " He smiles, oh yes, definitely A large audience appreciating your form You wish it was you up there " he says smirking as he moves around in front of you to whisper "Not her Then quickly back behind you "Look at my lovely assistant, " he hisses, "What a sight right? You eyes fixated upon her limp frame floating upwards towards the ceiling of the narrow corridor Now hanging still like cut velvet "She is just gorgeous, " you say Small and pale, her creamy skin shining in the lights 'Your face would look so much nicer draped over my thigh " He says Thinking nothing of it you suppose you should have an open mind about Incapa being into women It seems unbelievable but, for the first time, you might actually have found someone with a sicker mind than yours
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Secret of the Sewers: Fast Forward
After the turtles made their declaration to Splinter, they knew that they were in for a rough time. They knew that to prepare them for the challenge ahead, the rat was going to push them past their limits, then keep pushing. It started with Splinter’s decision to choose a leader for the group.
“Your enemies will come at you in numbers that greatly exceed your own.” He had told them, “the best way to combat this tactic is to work as a team, and every team needs a leader.”
Nobody was surprised when he picked Leonardo to be the leader, even if Raph was a bit miffed at the choice. Neither were they surprised when Splinter upped their training greatly. He had already lost one family, and he was not going to lose another.
When they weren’t training, the turtle’s attentions fell on various personal projects. Leo spent most of his free time meditating, trying to strengthen his mind and spirit for his new role as leader. Raph had begun tweaking the stolen motorcycle, making it turtle ready so it could be used on the streets. It was a common occurrence for the red turtle to come down for dinner covered in grease and oil. Donny had several projects to keep him busy. Along with Master Splinter’s request for a way to communicate, which he created the shell cells for, Donny also found time to work on turtlizing the van they’d commandeered, as well as help Hisako with her physical therapy. Thankfully, Mikey was more than willing to help take care of the afflicted human in their care.
With the aid of Donny and Mikey, Hisako’s road to recovery shortened considerably. In time, the emancipated girl Leo had plucked from the dumpster faded into memory. Her once stick-like arms became toned with the muscles of a gymnast. Her numerous scars slowly faded, though they would forever remain a part of her, and her ratty hair grew out healthy and long.
This positive physical change brought a spiritual change to Hisako as well. She no longer feared her own shadow, and she came to trust her caretakers, eventually coming to see them as more than just friends. The turtles became her brothers, and she their sister. Master Splinter grew to be her father, and she became his daughter.
As the weeks turned to months, and the months into years, Hisako proved herself an eager student. She absorbed the knowledge and moves like a sponge, picking up nearly 10 years on ninjutsu in a mere 4, a record that put Leonardo’s dedication to shame. Soon, Hisako was finally confident enough in her abilities to take the test that would recognize her as an official Kunoichi.
…
Splinter sat on his meditation mat, looking out onto the training ground. Donatello and Michelangelo were kneeling on the left side of the grounds while Raphael knelt on the right. From their spots, they watched Leonardo get into a fighting stance, katanas at the ready. Facing against him was Hisako, a pair of beautiful Japanese war fans, or tessen, in her hands.
"You ready Hisako?" Leo asked.
Hisako popped her neck, smiling.
"Oh yeah."
Splinter raised his paw in the air, then brought it down in a chopping motion.
"Hajime!"
Leonardo struck first, his first swipe coming at an almost blinding speed. Hisako quickly dodged it, her smile becoming somewhat cocky.
"Gonna have to do better than that, Leo!"
He struck again, but she quickly rolled out of the way. Getting back to her feet, she opened her fans and swiped at him. Strike after strike, Leo either evaded or blocked with his katanas. During one block, Leo twisted his sword and disarmed Hisako, sending one of her fans flying across the mat. It soared towards Donnie and Mikey, who raised their hands to catch it. Unfortunately, they both missed and it collided with the wall and clattered to the ground. Hisako looked back at her weapon as Leo pointed his sword at her neck.
"Ready to give up?" Leo asked.
"Not a chance." Hisako responded.
She ran forward and performed a jumping kick, knocking one of his swords out of his hands. This put Leo on the defensive as she continued to slice at him, forcing him to dodge every attack and preventing him from gaining room to respond. He quickly leaped back a bit in an attempt to gain the upper hand, but Hisako merely followed his movements. He performed a quick leg sweep, sending Hisako to the ground. However, she managed to hook onto his legs during the fall, tripping him and bringing him to the ground too.
"Nice one." Leo admitted.
"Same to you." Hisako agreed.
Both of them were quick to get back to their feet, preparing their remaining weapons as they charged toward each other. Their respective strikes were so hard that they knocked each other's weapons out of their hands. The two then fell back onto hand to hand combat, trading punches, jabs and kicks with unerring accuracy.
Leo went for a roundhouse kick, but Hisako dropped to the ground in order to duck it. Once Leo restructured himself, Hisako sprang back up with an uppercut to the jaw, knocking him to the ground. As he prepared to get up, Hisako planted her foot on his shell, placing two fingers on his forehead.
"Yame!" Splinter called.
Both Hisako and Leo were panting as the former got off the latter. Hisako offered a hand up, one that Leo gladly accepted.
"Great job, Hisako." He complimented as he collected his swords. "You got me good."
"Yeah!" Raph agreed. "I thought he had you with that spin kick, but you came back strong."
"I guess all those push-ups you've been doing really paid off." Donnie agreed.
"I don't know..." Mikey disagreed. "Near the end, it almost looked like-"
Splinter's tail came up, whacking Mikey across the head hard. The orange turtle yelped as Splinter came forward. Hisako quickly got down on her knees, placing her tessen before her. Leaning on his walking stick, Splinter smiled down on her, a hand behind his back.
"You have done well, my child." He congratulated her, “You have proven yourself a capable warrior, a compassionate soul, and an honorable ninja.”
He pulled his hand out from behind his back, revealing a black tanto with a green sash on the scabbard. Hisako couldn’t keep the grin off her face as she held out her hands for Splinter, allowing him to place the tanto into it. As her fingers closed around it, Splinter placed his hand on her head.
“Hamato Hisako, it pleases me to announce your graduation, and to grant you the official title of Kunoichi of the Hamato Clan."
Hisako bowed, then stood up, looking down at her tanto with a grin.
“I did it.” she said before jumping into the air, thrusting the tanto upwards. “I finally did it!”
Both Leo and Raph grabbed her, hoisting her onto their shoulders as she punched the air happily.
"I say this calls for a celebration!" Raph suggested.
"How's about a run topside and some rooftop pizza?" Donny asked.
"Oh yeah!" Mikey shouted. "Let's do it!"
Hisako grinned, then leapt off of her brothers' shoulders to get a head start, snagging her tessen as she did.
"Last one topside hatched from a rotten egg!" She announced.
The four brothers all shared pleased expressions before taking off after their sister. Before Leo could go, Splinter intercepted him.
"You did not have to provide her with that opening." he told him.
Leo just shrugged before resuming his chase.
"It was worth it!"
…
Hun knelt before his master, his hulking frame just barely maintaining the illusion of calm. Before him, his master paced irritably, an aura of seething rage surrounding the man like a blanket.
"Four years." The master hissed. "For four year, you have had but one task; locate a mere handful of interlopers. And yet, you cannot even perform that simple task!"
The master ceased pacing, his fist coming down on his desk so hard that the various papers flew off of it, fluttering to the ground. The sound of the blow caused Hun to jump violently, his heart racing with fear.
"Master-"
"I will not hear any more of your excuses!" The master interrupted.
Hun flinched, but wisely remained silent. The master then stalked towards him, grabbing his hair and forcing him to look him in the eye.
"I grow tired of waiting." he snarled. "If you do not have these creatures in 48 hours, you can consider your position terminated."
He dropped Hun's hair, the behemoth falling to the ground.
"Do I make myself clear?"
Hun gulped, then slowly got back onto his knees.
"Yes, Master."
…
The turtles and Hisako sat on top of the Manhattan water tower, a large meat lover's pizza balanced precariously on the top of the cone-like roof. All five of them munched on their slices as they stared up at the stars. They were playing the very same game that Leo and Hisako had done on her first adventure to the surface. It had become a sort of tradition now, one that all five of them thoroughly enjoyed.
"I see... a giraffe eating a plate of spaghetti." Mikey called out, pointing to a particular cluster of stars.
"I see… an elephant playing the trombone." Donnie countered.
"I see… an aardvark driving a school bus." Hisako added.
"That's a good one sis, but I think I got one better." Raph chuckled. "I see… Mikey wearing a clown costume."
That elicited a chuckle from everyone, though Mikey decided to throw his pizza crust instead. As the laughter died down, Hisako turned to Leo.
"Alright, your turn."
Leo squinted up at the sky, trying to find the perfect picture.
"I see-"
A clatter in a nearby alleyway drew the blue turtle's attention. He turned, and his eyebrow raised.
"A group a purple dragons breaking into a convenience store!"
Everyone immediately abandoned their pizza, coming over to Leo's part of the tower. Looking down, they saw a gang of about five thugs wearing punk attire adorned with purple dragon insignias smashing a convenience store window with crowbars.
"Don't these bozos ever learn?" Raph wondered out loud. "I mean, how many times do we have to kick their shells before they finally get the message?"
"Well, maybe this time, the message will stick." Hisako commented. "Leo?"
Leo drew his swords, then jumped off the tower. Hisako drew her fans as the remaining turtles readied their own weapons.
"Take it away Mikey." Donnie remarked.
"Cowabunga!" He shouted.
The two punks guarding the window looked up to see the five of them jumping from the tower, landing in the alley before them.
"Make this easy on yourselves, and drop the crowbars." Raph warned.
The two punks gripped their makeshift weapons as they charged at the turtles. One punk swung his crowbar at Raph, who gabbed with one of his Sais. Raph then twisted his wrist, yanking the crowbar out of the punk's hand. Now disarmed, Raph kicked the punk in the gut, sending him into the wall, knocking him out cold.
"Hey," a voice from inside the store questioned. "What was that?"
The other three punks stuck their heads out of the broken window to see the five figures beating on their teammates.
"Oh no you don't!" One of the guys, most likely the leader due to his flashier attire, shouted. "Get 'em boys!"
The other two jumped through the broken window, running towards the five siblings. While his lackeys went to deal with the interlopers, the leader reached into his pocket and pressed a button on a small device emblazoned with a dragon's claw symbol.
Back in the fight, one punk swung his crowbar at Donnie. The purple turtle was quick to duck it and use his staff to jab his opponent in the gut. He then used his momentum to spin his staff around and struck him on the back of the head, knocking the punk out as he hit the ground.
Mikey came up to one punk and grabbed the guy's wrist with his Nunchucks. With a flip, he landed on the guy's back and began making the punk punch himself.
"Why are you hitting yourself?" Mikey taunted, punctuating each question with another forced punch. "Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?"
The punk tried to throw Mikey off his back, but the turtle merely flipped, using the trapped wrist to pin the punk to the ground.
"Nighty-night!"
With his second Nunchucks, Mikey conked the guy on the head, knocking him out cold.
Meanwhile, Leo was having a sword vs crowbar fight with the fourth punk. Leo's superior training gave them the edge needed to easily knock the crowbar out of his hand. He then used the hilt of his sword to strike the punk on the head, knocking him out. This left the last punk, the leader, all up to Hisako.
"You're going down, freaks!" The leader threatened. "Nobody messes with the Purple Dragons!"
Hisako just grinned, giving the guy a 'come-at-me' motion. The leader charged, repeatedly swinging at Hisako with his crowbar, but the girl just kept side stepping out of the way. Each failed hit seemed to enrage the leader further.
"Hold still, brat!"
He took a wild swing, one that would have knocked her head clean off… if it had connected. Instead, Hisako went under the swing and used her fans to sweep at his legs. The sharp edge of the fan sliced through his baggy pants like they were made of tissue paper. The punk looked down, then at Hisako. She winked, then closed her fan and brought it right up into his face. Blood squirted from his now broken nose as he fell to the ground.
"Punks..." Hisako said with a shake of her head. "May they never grow a brain."
The turtles all stowed their weapons as they tossed the punks into a pile.
"Well, that was fun." Raph remarked. "Though a bit too easy if you ask me."
"Yeah." Mikey added. "They went down way too fast. Guess they couldn’t handle our mad skills"
Hisako’s head snapped up, her mind catching a signal not far from where they were. In fact, there were several signals closing in on their location. The turtles saw her do this and they tensed, knowing all too well what that meant.
“What is it, sis?” Mikey asked.
“I don’t know.” She whispered, gripping her tessen. “But I don’t think we’re alone”
Leo looked up at the opening of the alleyway, a worried expression crossing his face.
"I think you’re right." he told her. “Look.”
Everyone turned to see that a group of motorcycles were parked in front of the alley and an army of black suited men wearing full-faced helmets were slowly closing in. Turning around, the five saw a similar situation occurring behind them. Everyone quickly drew their weapons, forming a circle.
“The motorheads.” Mikey hissed. “How’d they find us?”
“Three guesses.” Raph sneered, giving an unconscious dragon in the guts.
"Doesn’t matter how they found us." Leo told them. "They found us, and you know what to do"
Raph twirled his sai in his hands, a maniacal grin on his face.
"I am so gonna enjoy this."
The motorheads then charged at them from both directions. The five siblings dispersed to take them down head on. Donnie used his staff to vault over two of them before they could even land a hit. Once he landed, he spun around, using his staff to sweep the two guys off their feet. A third one pulled out a small staff, preparing to do the same thing to Donnie. The purple turtle was shocked to see the staff extend to be about the same size of his own, but brushed it aside as the Motorhead prepared to attack.
"A fellow bo staff fighter." he mused. "But can you actually use it?"
The motorhead then spun it around for a moment to demonstrate his skill. Growing impatient, Donnie then ran towards the motorhead twirling his own staff along the way. Finally, the two staffs collided, each warrior blocking the others blow.
Mikey, meanwhile had just back flipped out the way of two motorheads of his own.
"You think you guys are so tough." He asked pulling out his signature weapons. "Well wait till you get a load of this."
With that he proceeded to spin his Nunchucks around showing off to his opponents in true Michelangelo style. The two motorheads just standing there, looking at each other with cocked heads. Mikey continued to show his skill to the motorheads by raising one foot off the ground and moving the spinning Nunchucks under it, a smug smile on his face. Unimpressed the motorheads pulled out and threw a barrage of shuriken at the orange clad turtle. Mikey acted on instinct and used his weapons to block every blow that was dealt him. Once the motorheads stopped throwing their projectiles, Mikey held one Nunchucks in his hand while the other was locked under his arm.
"Is that all you got?" he asked in a very confident tone.
Unbeknownst to him, another motorhead snuck from behind him, raising his staff to knock him to the ground. Mikey fell hard, his head pounding as his opponents standing over him.
"Ok, guess not." he observed.
Meanwhile, Leonardo was engaged in an intense sword fight with one motorhead. He was impressed with his adversary's skills, and was relishing in the genuine challenge the battle offered him. His focus was turned away from the battle when he heard his brother cry out.
"Mikey!" he shouted.
The motorhead used this distraction to kick the blue turtle into a wall. Leo regained his focus enough to see the motorhead running toward him. Thinking fast, he flipped onto a nearby awning, thinking he had the higher ground. That brief feeling of security was destroyed when he saw the motorhead jump up and run along the wall towards him. Leo couldn't believe his eyes.
"Who are these guys?" he asked as the motorhead joined him on the roof.
Raphael had his hands full as well, having to deal with four motorheads at once. Dodging and blocking each blow they tried to deal him.
"You guys got moves, I'll admit." he complemented with half sincerity. "You guys know this one?"
With that, he planted his sai in the concrete, using it as an anchor to perform a roundhouse kick. The move was successful, knocking them all out cold.
Hisako was not as fortunate, being backed into a corner with three motorheads closing in on her. Thinking fast, she slid under her enemies' feet with fans extended, slicing their ankles and causing them to fall to the ground. However as she stood up, she realized one had avoided her attack as he grabbed her from behind. Not to be deterred, she was able to get one hand free and put a mind blast on him.
For the motorhead, it was as if his senses were suddenly turned up to maximum. The dim light of the alley was suddenly as bright as the sun. The sounds of the battle made his ears feel like they were about to burst. The stench of sweat and garbage made him want to gag, and he could taste the remnants of all the meals he had eaten in the past few days.
With her assailant mentally occupied, Hisako brought her fan down on the back of his neck, knocking him down. With this small moment of tranquility, Hisako felt a small ping in the corner of her mind, like her powers were picking up stray thoughts. Most were just the usual babble of New Yorkers dreaming, but one string of thoughts piqued her interest. Following the hypothetical string, Hisako found a familiar hulking figure hiding in a large van, accompanied by about two or three Motorheads.
"Hun..." She whispered.
Back with the turtles Mikey was not holding up well as he was shoved into Donatello's back.
"Say Donnie, is it just me or are we getting our shells kicked?" Mikey asked.
Before Donnie could answer, he grabbed his brother's shoulder and pulled them both down, narrowly dodging a barrage of shuriken.
"Ask me again when we're winning." Donnie responded slowly standing up.
At that moment, he noticed he couldn't see Hisako anywhere on the battlefield. A sinking feeling grew in his stomach as he scanned the alley for his sister.
"Hey, where's Hisako?" Donnie asked.
Having heard the question, Leo looked over his shoulder to see Hisako running towards a nearby fire escape.
"What's she doing?" Leo asked before being drawn back into the fight by two more oncoming Motorheads.
Back with Hisako, once she had climbed high enough on the fire escape, she jumped off soaring through the air until she landed on the roof of the truck she saw in her head.
"Time to draw them out."
…
Inside the van, an entire array of surveillance equipment was hard at work trying to capture images of the turtles and Hisako. He’d attempted to gather intel before using CCTV cameras and security footage, but the video always ended up either going missing or being heavily edited. Thankfully, his van seemed to be doing its intended purpose, providing Hun with many satisfactory images of the turtles. Now, all he needed was an image of Hisako. So far, all images of her were either too blurry to make out, or she was partially covered by the turtles or one of his own men.
"Mr. Hun." One of the motorheads at the controls called. "We lost the girl."
"What?" He demanded.
He shoved the motorhead out of the way, scanning the multiple screens. Unfortunately, the girl was gone. That's when he heard a thud coming from the roof. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the sound was.
"It's her." Hun hissed as he gestured to the Motorhead he had shoved out of the way. "Go get her."
The Motorhead opened the van doors. Before he could take a step outside, a slender hand grabbed onto the front of his jacket, yanking him through the doorway. There was the sound of three consecutive blows, then an audible thud of a body falling to the ground. Hun saw that, then pointed at the remaining two motorheads. They went out the door as well, and though they seemed to put up more of a fight, they too fell easily. Hun sighed, then cracked his knuckles.
"If you want something done right..." He growled.
He came out of the van swinging, his massive fist catching Hisako across the jaw. She went flying across the street, hitting the wall of a building hard and slumping to the ground.
"You do it yourself." he finished.
He grabbed Hisako, hoisting her into the air with ease. However, that was as far as he got before an angry shout rang through the street.
"Hey! Lou Ferrigno!" a furious voice taunted.
Hun turned to the source of the shout and saw that the alleyway was now devoid of the turtles. In fact, only the unconscious forms of his motorheads was visible. That's when he felt someone poking his head with what seemed to be a stick. He slowly looked up to see the four turtles standing on top of the roof of the van with weapons drawn. The orange one was crouched down, identifying him as the one who had poked him. The rest looked pissed beyond measure.
"Give us back our sister!" the red turtle demanded.
Hun just smirked, figuring he had the turtles dead to rights.
"Touch me, and I snap this girl's neck like a toothpick."
Raph was seething in anger and had to be held back by Leo to prevent him from doing something monumentally stupid. Hun chuckled, glad that everything was going according to plan, even if there had been a slight wrinkle.
That's when Hun noticed that Donatello had his hands behind his back.
"You! The purple one!"
Donny looked up with a faux innocent look.
"Yes?" he replied, his voice dripping with that same false innocence.
"What are you hiding?" Hun demanded.
"I'm not hiding anything." He said. "But if I were you, I wouldn't stand in the middle of the road like that."
"And why is that?" Hun asked.
All of the turtles crouched on the roof of the van, as if bracing themselves for something.
"Oh you'll see in about 2.4 seconds." Donnie responded in a coy manner.
Hun raised his eyebrows in curiosity. His train of thought was interrupted however when he was a pair of headlights coming up the road, approaching at about 3 times the speed limit. He squinted a bit to see a strange truck charging towards him. It was about the size of an armored van with green shell-like designs all across it, as well as Japanese kanji for turtle and ninja on one side. On the other, in obvious graffiti font, was the word "Shellraiser!"
Before Hun could react, the van hit him dead on, sending him flying across the street. Hisako was launched into the air when the car hit, so Leo leapt into the air and caught her in his arms. The two landed with ease on the now parked car.
"You good?" he asked as Hisako began to come to.
"Yeah." she responded groggily.
"I make a motion we get out of here before that guy calls reinforcements." Donnie suggested, getting into the driver's seat.
"Agreed. Let's move." Leo ordered.
The turtles scrambled into the car, Leo buckling Hisako in as Donnie hit the gas. The tires screeched as they made their getaway.
…
As the Shellraiser pulled into Renaissance motors, the five siblings finally started to relax. Though they'd been battling New York's street trash for four years, tonight's battle had shown them that they weren't top dog on the street's food chain.
"I'm just gonna say it." Raph commented as he jumped out of the Shellraiser. "That could have gone better."
"You said it." Mikey agreed. "My bruises have bruises."
"Do those guys ever give up?" Donny asked.
Hisako, who was still a bit left of center after her face-to-face with Hun, just groaned.
"They’ve been hunting us for four years, why stop now…?"
"These Motorheads are getting tougher by the day." Leo commented. “Their skills far exceed our own, and if this keeps up, we may not be able to get away so easily.”
"Remember when life was simpler?" Mikey reminisced. "When the only ninjas in New York were us, and where the worst we dealt with were those Purple Dragon jerk faces?"
"Those were the days, Mikey" Raph replied, patting his brother on the shoulder. “Those were the days.”
…
Hun found himself kneeling before his master once more. The man paced around the behemoth, an air of disappointment mixed with unbridled rage surrounding him.
"Perhaps I was too lenient when I gave you 48 hours to complete your mission." The master mused. "It is obvious that you do not have the skills necessary to combat five minor annoyances."
Hun raised his head, praying the footage he had acquired would be enough to keep his head firmly attached to his neck.
"Master, while I have failed to capture the interlopers, I have succeeded in acquiring usable footage."
The Master ceased pacing, an eyebrow raising in intrigue. Hun reached into his trench coat, pulling out a flash drive. The master snatched the drive, walking over to a thin laptop that rested on his desk. Inserting the drive, he witnessed footage of the four turtles fighting with the Motorhead soldiers. His eyebrow arched at the sight.
“Turtles?” he questioned.
“Yes Master.” Hun replied. “There is a fifth member of their group, a human girl, but I was unable to get a clear enough shot of her.”
"I see." the Master said, the disappointment in his voice causing Hun to tense up, wondering what he was going to do. "This is suitable. It would seem you still have a purpose here."
Hun let out a sigh of relief as the Master pulled the drive out of the computer and tossed back at Hun, who barely caught it.
"Take this to Baxter Stockman." The master ordered. "One of his… 'Pets' should succeed where you have failed."
Hun visibly tensed at the idea of willingly visiting Stockman in his lab, but he knew better than to question his master, especially when his position was on such unstable ground as is.
"Yes, Master."
With that, Hun left to see Stockman. Alone, the master pulled up a copy of the footage he had saved to his laptop. The way the Turtles fought his men reminded him of something familiar. Something… from the past.
…
Hun walked into a large building, entering a secret elevator hidden as part of the wall. The elevator descended until it opened up into a large white hospital like area. All around him, there were men and women dressed in lab coats milling about, but one doctor stood out.
Hun!" Stockman called. "Long time no see! How is my favorite patient?"
Hun's growl was like that of a rabid lion.
"I. Am NOT. Your patient, Stockman." He replied through gritted teeth.
"Not anymore, no." Stockman replied with a shrug "But with all of your screw-ups these past four years, I'm almost positive that will change."
Hun's huge fists clenched in anger, but he resisted the urge to punch the smug doctor. He came here for a reason, and if he failed his Master, then Stockman's prediction would come true. Without another word, Hun held out the flash drive. Stockman raised an eyebrow, taking the flash drive. Commandeering a nearby computer, he took a look at the footage. Once he played the footage, it was obvious that he was intrigued.
"Well, well. Aren't these interesting specimens?"
"These are the creatures I spoke of four years ago." Hun explained.
Stockman stroked his chin, examining the photos.
"Hmm, Terrapin Carolina by the looks of the shell design… mutated box turtles… very interesting. I would very much like to examine them."
"Well, you might just get the chance." Hun stated bluntly. "Master wants you to send one of your pets after them."
Stockman grinned at the thought, hitting the print button and printing an image of the four turtles.
"I think I know just who to send."
He turned and walked down a long white hallway towards a large metal door with several large bolts and chains over it. Two burly guards in heavy, full body armor, armed with tranquilizer guns and stun batons, saluted Stockman as he approached a small opening in the door where someone could peer inside.
"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey." He called. "You awake in there?"
There was a loud thud as the door shook slightly, accompanied by the rattling of chains. The two guards jumped back, aiming their weapons at the opening. Stockman just chuckled as he waved the two men down.
"Congratulations," He called cheerily through the opening. "Today is your lucky day. I have a mission for you."
There was a growl that almost rivaled Huns coming from the other side of the door. Stockman slipped the pictures through the slot, careful to keep his hands clear.
"Find these creatures and bring them back in one piece. Do this, and I'll postpone your tests for a month. How does that sound?"
A large, dark green, clawed hand picked up the pictures as dark red eyes focused on the pictures. Then a guttural voice spoke at a hushed whisper.
"Deal…"
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