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s-creations · 2 months ago

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Excavation - Chapter 3

Now that everything's calmed down slightly, Daisy explains why she's there. Mainly looking for the heroes' help in solving a problem that's coming from deep in one of her Kingdom's temples.

The group divides into two parts: One to solve the temple issue while the other tries to convince the Desert King to join forces against Bowser.

To everyone's surprise, it doesn't quite go according to plan.

Fandom: Super Mario & Releated Fandoms Rating: Teen and UP Audiences Relationship: Mario & Luigi & Wario & Waluigi Additional Tags: Pretty Much Everyone's Here, Named OCs - Freeform, world building, lore building, sometimes in the most painful way, Treasure Hunting, another mural to worry about, Mentions of Blood, we have a lot of people opening up in this one, cursing, heavy cursing, like I haven't used this heavy of cursing for this story for quite a while.

A/N: Hello! I wanted to leave a quick message for you all before the start of the last chapter. This is the last part of Season 2 of 'Yellow, Purple, Red, Green'! That being said, I'm going to be taking a break from this AU for a bit. Mainly so I can have the next Season fully written and ready to be published so I don't have a long break between the Season, like this one.

Another reason is due to the fact of how much time this final half of Season 2 took. I really want to focus on my other stories and projects, and I can't really do that if I'm forcing myself back into this AU.

Therefore, this AU will not be returning until Summer of 2025. I know it's a long break, but I do feel that it's needed. I just need a moment to breath. So I apologize now for the long wait, but it's for a good cause, I promise!

Even with how long it had been since his last visit, Toadsworth was able to traverse the hallways easily. His cane gave sharp ‘plinks’ as it hit the ground as he quickly moved through the castle. Reaching this kingdom’s Great Hall in almost no time.

If it had been a few hours before, Toadsworth would have been worried with how empty and quiet this place was. Wondering where the citizens were as the castle was supposed to be open for conversation to be held at this time. Now, however, he couldn’t find the reason to worry. He walked down the large room, ignoring the tall windows on either side that showed off the colorful gardens. The billowing curtains from the gentle breeze offered nothing to the old Toad. Nor did the mosaic of blue that was beneath his feet that gave the appearance of moving water thanks to the parts of sunlight that were able to sneak in.

It was all lost on him as Toadsworth focused on the lone figure slumped over in the throne. Only stopping when he’d reached the foot of it. Pointedly giving the ground a sharp tap to indicate his arrival to King Olivine. Who, up until that point, had been staring into the distance, chin resting on one of his hands. Moving slowly to face Toadsworth, who glared up at him.

“...Well, to think such a day like this would arrive. A time where old Toadsworth darkened my hall once more. You seem to be getting on well.” Olivine’s voice was dull. Nothing like the previous confrontation, when it held concern and anger. Even Olivine’s form gave off an air of defeat that had been missed.

It gave Toadsworth nothing as his stance remained impassive. “You and I are long overdue for a chat, child.”

“Oh, is that so? I thought you were supposed to be the right hand to the Mushroom Kingdom. I don’t recall asking for such a need. Although your residence seems to have created a bad habit of offering help when it’s not been asked.”

“And you seem to be stuck in your selfish ways,” the old Toad snipped back. “Look at you, you’re a shell of your formal self. How are you living like this-”

“I didn’t ask for a consult. If you only came here to mock and belittle, I suggest you go on your way.” Olivine stood from his throne and walked past. Clearly not having a destination in mind as he simply meandered towards the exit. Toadsworth close behind.

“Is this what you do, day in and day out? Close yourself away in hopes that everyone’s just fine with the idea of being sedimentary?”

“I have no words for you Toad, I suggest you save your breath.”

Letting out a huff, Toadsworth picked up his pace to halt Olivine’s progress. Who showed annoyance for the first time. “I saved my breath last time on behalf of my king, and I’ve lived with that regret every day since then. Do not act high and mighty. You and I both know that this world is heading towards something dark that will consume us if we’re not careful.”

“No, I had that worry far before this little session.” Olivine spat out, a deep frown forming. “It was your king that didn’t want to listen to the truth.”

“We were all ignorant to Kong’s warning-”

“Yet I listened faster!” Olivine toward over Toadsworth, the once calm winds now picking up. “I took in the warning signs and begged for Matsutake to help me create a plan of attack. Or at least something to help defend our kingdoms.”

“So, you’re really just fine with the idea that you abandoned your friend during his darkest time.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. Your actions have said enough.”

“What would you want me to say? Tell me, oh wise Toad. What could I possibly say to make you understand my position?”

“Why did you not come back?” Toadsworth let the words hang in the air. Unwavering in his stare even as Olivine backed off a little. The king clearly confused by the question.

“...I don’t understand.”

“When you left…” The elder Toad cleared his throat. Shaking his head slightly before continuing.

“When you left, Matsutake was beside himself with guilt. He knew that danger was awaiting us, but was overwhelmed with it all. What king would just look past that and not feel worried. But you can’t stand there to say that was the only thing he had to worry about. Dahlia’s illness… Grambi keep her soul, she withered away before our eyes and there was nothing we could do about it. Not even our mushrooms could get rid of what ate away at her. All we could provide was a comforting numb so she could pass away as peacefully as possible.”

“When she passed, Matsutake gave up on life. I have never seen a Toad wither away so fast… Less than two months, we lost both of our rulers, one right after the other… Can you imagine how quiet it was? The castle had become a living tomb with how dark and cold it had become.”

“Why are you telling me this.” Olivine snapped out, voice wavering near the end. “Is this your attempt to pile more guilt than I already feel? Do you think I never once wished I had not said what I did, or that I’d gone back?”

“Then why? Why didn’t you? You left your friend to deal with such a horrible situation then allowed a child to be raised without her parents.”

“Because I was a coward!” The words rang out, echoing in the empty hall. Olivine’s exhausted demeanor turned to one of fear. Said king faced away from Toadsworth as the years of sorrow and loss seemed to pull him down. Soon enough kneeling on the ground as he attempted to control his breathing.

Toadsworth, on his part, allowed Olivine a few moments to collect himself before quietly walking over. The elder Toad sitting down to address Olivine.

“Talk to me, Olivine. You’ve clearly been holding this in for quite some time…”

“The moment I arrived back here, I knew I had done the wrong thing,” Olivine started. “I was terrified with the possibility of having to face Bowser and his army. We’re not fighters, you know this. When Cranky Kong left, I knew that was the signal that we were running out of time. I marked the end for us. Cranky may be crazy. But he doesn’t mess around.”

“I begged, begged, Matsutake to start thinking outside of his kingdom. Outside of the castle walls. I knew Dahlia had not been her bubbly self. We could all tell. But I also panicked when she was the only thing Matsutake felt the need to talk about. Any time I tried to pull it back to the approaching danger, he would become distant. I was…angry. Furious. I demanded to know how a king could show no interest in keeping his lands safe. He never gave me an answer that satisfied me. So I left….”

“The further away I traveled, the more of what had happened weighed on me. But I couldn’t push my ego to the side and return to make amends. I had assumed whatever bridge had been there was burning and no matter what I did to rid those flames, it was too far gone. I let my stubbornness control my actions, deciding to hide away and worry about my kingdom. To prepare for…”

Olivine shook his head as it hung lower. “Hearing Dahlia and Matsutake’s passing… Peach being kidnapped and the heroes… Bowser’s constant attacks… I didn’t want to see what had happened. I wanted to stay in this…bubble that didn’t have any of this happening. It’s a coward's way out, but I didn’t know how I could face anyone again. I just wanted to remain in my kingdom, stuck in a time where Bowser was not a threat. I don’t deserve pity for my actions, but I don’t want to face the consequences, not yet.”

“When was the last time your citizens have seen you? Physically, being in your presence, seen you?” Toadsworth asked.

That answer was a wet snort with a short, “Years.”

Taking a deep breath, Toadsworth steeled himself before speaking once more. “You’ve damaged yourself enough, it seems. Whatever ‘punishment’ that you believe the Mushroom Kingdom would bestow upon you is not going to happen.”

Olivine’s head shot up, a look of confusion and anger written on his face. “I was not-”

“Then why did you hide away for so long if not to avoid retribution that you believe you deserved.”

“I-”

“There was no reason for this Olivine. Other than a self imposed isolation because of your fears. You did this to yourself and only you can break yourself from this. Princess Peach is looking to unite our kingdoms once more. We already have the BeanBean Kingdom on our side. Now, we plead for your help in this war as well. You don’t have to be a fighter. You just have to be there for us. Can you do that?”

Head hanging once more, Toadsworth could only wait for Olivine’s response. Seconds ticked by until the king began to slowly move. Getting back onto his feet, standing tall, even with his face a blotchy mess. As he opened his mouth, there was the sound of scampering feet.

Both king and advisor turning to the front entrance as a cactus soldier came rushing in. Looking panicked, breathing hard as they attempted to catch their breath.

“What is the meaning of this?” Olivine asked, sounding more worried than angry for the interruption.

“Princess…Daisy, sire.” The soldier panted out. “She’s still at…the temple… But the heroes have not returned. She doesn’t know where they are.”

Toadsworth felt a chill fall over him. Turning his attention to the arched window, now noticing how heavy the shadows were over the lush garden.

It was far later than he had expected it to be. Later than when the group claimed they would be back.

“Then gather those who are available and we’ll march to the temple.” Olivine commanded, fixing his robes before heading towards the doors. Toadsworth and the guard followed quickly.

“What is the plan sir?” The guard asked.

“We’ll dismantle that place, piece by piece, to get them out.”

_____________________________

With how much pain he was in, Mario took it as a small benefit to know that he could still feel something. That didn’t make the situation that better. The hero let out a low groan as he slowly got up. First to his knees, pausing to make sure nothing was broken or at least severely damaged, before sitting up. Deming his body unscathed for the most part, he mustered up the energy to engulf his hand in flames. The light provided enough coverage to see around him.

They had fallen far enough down that the lit portion they had fallen from was not visible. Or, if anything, the darkness was just all that encompassing. Debris from the collapsed track littered the area. Mario silently thankful that none of it had landed on him. Their cart had stopped a few feet in front of the hero. With Wario sprawled out just behind it, faced down and unmoving.

“S-Shit.” Mario hissed as he stood fully. Working out his sore form enough to walk forward and not feel too much pain from the movement.

Upon reaching Wario, the hero tentatively knelt over to shake the other’s shoulder. Giving a quiet, “Come on, get up… Please don’t be dead. I don’t think I’ll be able to carry you out.”

That got a low gruff, followed by a, “You ain’t strong enough for that…”

Mario took a few steps back, granting Wario some move to sit up. Watching as the other made the same faces that he’d no doubt made when doing the same not even a minute ago. Wario, on his part, got to his feet a lot faster. Dusting himself off as he surveyed the area. First looking at the damage that surrounded them, then up to where they had come from. Shoulders dropped heavily as he let out a sigh.

“Well, shit. We’re not getting out the way we came in.”

“So then, what’s the plan?” Mario asked, watching as Wario retrieved his bag.

Rummaging through it, and silently surprised it survived, Wario pulled out one of his many tools. Mario assumed it was something related to a scanner.

“We press on,” Wario eventually answered. “We came here to do a job and I intended to finish it. People know we’re here. They come for us eventually if we can’t find our own way out. So, let’s get moving.”

“Right…sure…”

While Wario took the lead, his scanner held out in front of him at all times, Mario kept the path lit. As they traversed forward, it became clear that they had fallen into some kind of ravin. One that held multiple branches that ended on the path they were currently taking.

“I’m going to assume we’re going the right way?” Mario asked.

“According to this thing, yeah. We’re on the right track.”

They fell silent once more.

“...So, who was that?”

Wario huffed as he looked back to Mario with a scrunched up face of annoyance. “You heard him. Kaptain Skurvy. Not much more I can add to that.”

“I don’t think that’s true. You two worked together?”

“Okay, yeah, a few times. Nothing major. It was at my lowest point in my life and I was desperate for anything. Which, unfortunately, meant working for a deranged king.”

Mario frowned, “You’re not talking about Bowser, are you.”

“Nope. Even with how dangerous that Koopa is, there were other people to worry about long before his arrival. We all just kept to our own little areas of the world. Never really crossing paths until now. Even then…”

Wario let out a low shiver and looked over to Mario. “If you never have to meet King K. Rool, you’ll be the better one off.”

“...Is he worse than Bowser?”

“Worse? Nah. Deranged and a danger to everyone? Yeah. Bowser may be a tyrant, but at least he’s organized and lets you know up front who you’re dealing with. K. Rool is the kind of crazy that hurts everyone. Even people he’s supposed to be protecting. Bowser’s at least nice enough to let you live if you agree with him.”

“K. Rool isn’t?”

Wario shook his head. “I saw a lot of his own people die by his hands. They hadn’t even done anything wrong. He was just convinced that they were going to betray him. So he decided to take that step out and just went straight into trimming the fat.”

Mario looked ahead, letting himself process all of this before continuing. “You and Skurvy went on a few hunts though.”

“Yeah. Skurvy works for K. Rool, or did if that comment from before was anything to go off of.”

“Were you…friends?”

Wario let out a laugh before wrapping an arm around Mario. “What’s the matter Mini-Me? Worried you have competition for my attention?”

“Would you get off! Why do you smell so bad!” Even with the sharp words, Mario couldn’t stop the smirk from forming. Eventually pushing himself free and landing a punch on Wario’s arm with his unlit hand. “I’m serious! You always made it sound like it was just you, Waluigi, and Peach growing up. …And Daisy too, I guess, to a point.”

“Well, don’t you worry your pretty little head. Skurvy and I were just hunters on the same mission. Granted the end goal was different. I wanted payment. He just needed to make sure his king was appeased.”

Mario watched in worry as Wario’s face shifted from a smirk to a heavy frown. The other looked over the scanner again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Skurvy said he wasn’t working for K. Rool,” Wario muttered. “So, why is he here?”

“He’d be working for someone else, right?”

“Yeah, but who? Skurvy’s not one to just take jobs. If he and his crew are on hard times, they’ll steal. For him to be here… It’s either a major discovery or a major payout.”

“He seemed pretty upset about you being here… What happened the last time you two met?”

The conversation came to a halt when they heard the familiar barks of a spectral pooch. Mario let out a sigh of relief as he rushed forward. Wario right behind him.

“Polterpup!” Mario called out, “Here boy, over here! We’re right-”

“HERE!”

Mario had just enough time to fall back. Barely avoiding the sword that had been aimed for his neck.

Skurvy let out a low growl as his sword was buried into the rock face. Yanking it out after a few seconds while Polterpup nipped at his ankles.

“Enough with ye, mutt!” With a swift kick, the pirate launched Polterpup a few feet away. The spectral pup landed hard and gave a small whine.

“Polterpup!” Turning to check on the other, Mario’s progress was halted again when the same sword was brought down. Again, just barely missing the blade as Skurvy stared him down.

“Ye annoying pest!”

The next attack was blocked as Wario got between the two. His hammer blocking Skurvy’s sword, resulting in them being at a temporary stalemate.

“Wario-”

“Check on the dog!” Wario called back. Baring his teeth as he glared back at the pirate. Skurvy’s anger just seemed to grow at the other’s attention. Mario didn’t need to be told twice as he rushed over to Polterpup.

“Heard ye be talkin’” Skurvy spat out. “Goin’ on a little trip down memory lane, eh? Did ye tell yer wee partner what happened the last time?”

“You sort of interrupted our conversation. So, I’m going to say no, I hadn’t gotten to that part.” Wario hissed back. He grunted as he was suddenly pushed back. Recovering fast enough to use his hammer’s handle as a staff to keep Skurvy’s attacks at bay.

“Well, don’t let me stop ye. Why don’t ye tell the lad how you abandoned us?”

Hand resting on Polterpup’s back, Mario turned to watch the duo trade blows.

“I didn’t abandon you,” Wario snapped back.

“Ye were the best hunter I had ever held the pleasure of workin’ with. We were goin’ to go on our biggest job. Would have paid a fortune, and I know ye like yer payments hefty. We could’a live like kings! We would’a been safe!”

“Not when it comes from the price of destroying a village! You don’t get to be pissed with me from not fulfilling your crazy king's demands when you’ve clearly left him! What happened? Did he push you just a little too far the last time? It wasn’t a village you had to burn down, but an entire fucking city!?”

“Don’t ye act high and mighty!” Skurvy snapped, Wario just able to avoid the sharp teeth aimed for his arm. “Ye didn’t have a crew relying on ye! That was supposed to be the last mission we ever needed with him. I needed yer wit and tools to help us and you said no!”

“A crew who willingly put themselves in dangerous and stupid situations are not above innocent lives! They didn’t have a choice, we did, I walked away!”

“Ye act as if we had such luxury back then. We needed ye-”

“I was not going to become a murderer for you!”

Wario’s breath caught in his throat as something collided with his foot. The uneven terrain caused him to stumble back until he was on the ground. Collecting himself fast enough to bring his hammer up to impede Skury’s sword. But it was an awkward position, one that left Wario not in the most stable positions. Feeling his grip slowly failing.

“Then ye be nothin’ more than dead weight.” Skurvy hissed back.

The pirate’s bravado was quickly washed away when a flaming fist collided with the side of his face. Wario watched in silent fascination as Skurvy was practically launched into the same rock wall he’d not too long ago stuck his sword into. There was no pause before Mario landed another heat filled punch, this time to the reptile’s stomach. Causing the disoriented pirate to now double over in pain. Letting out a wheezed grunt as he fell to the ground.

“Not so easy when you don’t have your stupid crew for back up, huh?” Mario panted out. Taking a few steps out, just in case Skurvy recovered faster than expected, bringing the fallen sword along with. Polterpup joined at the human’s side, growling darkly at the tense pirate.

“Little…pest… Wasn’t warned about ye…”

“Yeah, well, now you get to deal with me.”

“Okay, hold up,” Wario placed a hand on Mario’s shoulder to calm the hero down. Taking the sword from the hero to point it at Skurvy. “Before you continue on with that brilliant smack talk, I have a few questions for the dear captain.”

“I ain’t answerin’ anything for the likes of ye.” Skurvy hissed.

“You’re not in the best place to make demands. You’re outnumbered, out-powered, and you’re suck down here with us. Unless you want to try and make your way around here in the dark. I’d be more than happy to leave you to whatever demise awaits you down here.”

That got Skurvy’s resistance to falter a little. The pirate let out a grumble before properly sitting down. “Ye drive a hard bargain… Glad ta know I taught ye somethin’.”

“Ye didn’t teach me nothin’.” Wario said right back with a mocking tone.

“Ye wanted answers. So, out with the questions.”

“Who sent you.”

“Can’t tell.”

“Need another reminder as to where you are?”

“Need ye be reminded of the pirate oath?”

Mario looked over to Wario when the other gave a snort and rolled his eyes. “I don’t think ‘client confidentiality’ really works here, Skurvy.”

“Fine, ye bugger. I don’t technically know me client.”

“How the hell do you not know?”

“All that was given ta me was a letter with a strange symbol, the details of what I needed ta get and where ta go once I got the goods. Nothin’ else. Was told this would be an easy job.”

“Um, I’m not sure if this is going to be an insensitive question. But aren’t pirates sort of confined to the sea and seaside towns? You seem a little out of place.” said Mario.

“Ye can’t be the picky type lad. Ye take jobs where ye can get them.”

“...You know what, fair.”

“Where’s the drop off point?” Wario asked.

“Rogueport.”

“Which would be…”

“Not on yer maps.”

Wario blinked. “How?”

Skurvy laughed at that. “Ye shouldn’t be that surprised about how little yer little kingdom knows. Speakin’ of. How are the Boos? Heard ye lot had a grand time with them.”

From the corner of his eye, Wario could see Mario reaching for the scarred arm. “Shut it. Did your mysterious client tell you what the item here is or what they want with it?”

“No.”

“Well, how wonderful. You’re just as lost as we are on this.” Wario grumbled as he turned away.

Still keeping an eye on Skurvy, Mario said to Wario, “There’s not much we can worry about now. Our plan hasn’t changed, we just have an extra passenger along for the ride.”

“Eh?” Skruvy raised a brow, “Ye best not be talkin’ about me.”

“Do you want to be left down here?”

“Ye think I’m really that terrified of a little darkness.”

“Probably not. But this place looks and feels like a maze, and who knows how far down we actually are. You’d be lucky to make your way out of here on your own. Your best bet is to stick with us for now.”

“And what of me crew? Leavin’ them ta rot? Ain’t the way of a captain.”

“Once we get out of here, we can start a search for your crew.”

“Mario, don’t make promises like that.” Wario said sharply.

“I’m not happy about any of this. But I’m also not going to just leave people down here to die.”

“Even if they were more than happy to do the same to you?”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m so used to it at this point in my life, I’m a little hopeful that being nice would have a better pay off than just believing souls were lost. They attacked us, so what. We lived, we’re going to get the job done, it’ll be fine. The less blood on my hands from just giving up, the better I’ll be able to sleep at night.”

Mario turned to Skurvy, who was still heavily eyeing the human. “If you cross us again, I won’t feel remorse for leaving you behind. But…I’d rather give you the chance to do so. Makes my consciousness feel better. So…truce? You can try and kill us another time?”

Skurvy’s eyes darted away from Mario’s face to the hand not being offered to him. There were a few tense seconds that passed before the pirate let out a huff and took it. Silently surprised when he was rather easily helped back onto his feet. “Tis a bitter pill to swallow… But choices be limited down here.”

Just giving a small nod, Mario looked back at Wario. “Can I ask you to be on your best behavior for the moment?”

“...Yeah, whatever. Happy truce and what not, play the joyful music. Let’s get this over with.” Without a look back, Wario picked up his fallen tools and bag. Heading the same directly they’d been on before. Mario followed soon after with Skvury bringing up the rear, Polterpup keeping a close eye on the batter pirate.

Picking up the pace a little, Mario fell in step with Wario. “Hey…you okay?”

“...I liked it better when I was just a con artist to you.” Wario muttered back.

“Look, I’m not going to assume I fully know what you went through growing up. But I know what it’s like to have to defend yourself during your lowest point. Luigi and I were stuck working for a shitty boss right after we got out of school. Locked working for the lowest pay possible because we didn’t really understand the terms the contract laid out for us. But we were lucky enough to have a stable income. …I don’t know what I would have done to keep us safe. Anything really, now that I think about it.”

“Sure, but there’s a difference between swindling people out of a few bucks and straight up robbing places. I don’t even want to think about the history and material I’ve stolen just to help out some stupid king.”

“Wario, I don’t blame you. I…I don’t think less of you, if that’s what you're worried about.” Mario frown fell further when he didn’t receive a reply back. Facing forward on their dark path as the quiet pressed down. “...At least you have a boundary that you weren’t willing to cross for any situation.”

“Yeah…I just stole in hopes it didn’t horribly ruin someone else’s life.”

“I’m trying to make you feel better.”

Wario sighed as the tool was dropped to his side. “I know, I get it. I just hated the idea of you going back to your original thought of me. A low life worth nothing because of my actions.”

“If I still thought that way, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Does…that make it better or worse?”

Mario laughed, playfully elbowing Wario’s arm. “I’m saying that if I hadn’t changed my view on you, I wouldn't have a mentor helping me out with this and I’d be in a much worse situation. I probably would have spontaneously combusted under the Mushroom Kingdom, to be honest.”

“That’s ridiculous… You wouldn’t have made it out of that Boo town.”

“Oh…oh yeah, that’s true.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to drag up bad memories.”

“You're just pointing out the obvious. A Shroom-Shake is all it takes to be forgiven.”

“Be forgiven- Oh, I’ll give you a shake!” Being mindful of the hand engulfed with flames, Wario pulled Mario into a loose headlock. His free hand ruffling the other hat, Mario laughing the entire time.

Polterpup panted, happy in seeing their carer’s brother and the larger brother back in high spirits. They turned their attention to the newcomer, expecting to see a look of content as they were currently feeling. Only for their happiness to falter seeing how…neutral the pirate looked. Not angry, nor confused. Polterpup couldn’t quite place it, but the best they could describe it was contemplative. Clearly Skurvy was mentally battling over something. They just weren’t quite sure what it could be.

The calm was broken when Wario’s device started going off. A red light at the top flashing in time with a short beep. Before anyone could question what was going on, a bright light appeared before them, one that eventually illuminated their surroundings. Danger was further added when the ground began to shake. All hunkering down in hopes of avoiding any debris that was possibly falling. It only lasted for a few seconds, all faded back quickly. Leaving the area as quiet and as dark as before.

“...Well, I think we’re close.” Wario muttered softly. Helping Mario back onto his feet and making sure Skurvy was still in one piece. There was a silent understanding and they pressed on.

Their long straight path finally began to curve, shifting their progress to the right as the high walls started to come down. Leaving broken pieces of rock to litter the floor, which in turn slowed their progress as they now had pieces to climb over. Upon reaching the last few rows of standing rock, Wario held his hand up to halt progress. Silently pointing out in front of them towards something resting in a shallow crater.

It appeared to be some kind of sun shaped stone. Smoothed and carved out perfectly to show two wide eyes staring up at the ceiling. It stood out from its surroundings due to how perfectly intact it was, even with how destroyed the rest seemed to be.

“What is it?” Mario asked, voice low.

“No idea,” Wario replied, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Do we just…go and grab it or-”

“Hold on lad,” Skurvy reached out to grab hold of Mario’s shoulder. And immediately took it off when Wario gave him a hard stare. “Unclench yer britches, I ain’t hurtin’. But ye need ta be smarter about this. We just saw a part of what it can do. Ye really want ta be touchin’ that?”

Mario frowned softly before turning back to the object. “It seems harmless for now.”

“I’m not picking anything up at the moment as far as energy goes. It might just be dormant for now.” Wario replied.

“Still, I can see the worry about just picking it up. If it’s causing tremors when it’s just resting there, what’s going to happen when we move it? We don’t exactly have an escape plan if this goes south.”

“What if I be pickin’ it up.” Skurvy raised his hands in surrender when his own sword was pointed at him, Wario glaring.

“Why the hell would we just let you pick it up.”

“Becuase, if ye be needin’ a fast escape, I can offer that by movin’ it.”

Mario tilted his head. “Are you…sacrificing yourself?”

“Don’t be soundin’ all sappy on me. I just be offerin’ the best case situation.”

“There’s absolutely zero chance I’m giving you an inch closer to that thing.” Wario growled back. “You’ve caused us enough issues. I’ll go grab it.”

“Wario-” Mario fell quiet as Wario pinned him down with a glare and a shake of his head.

“I’m not arguing on this. Stay here, keep an eye on this ass, and you knock him out the moment he gives you trouble.”

Skurvy huffed, “Last I checked, ye brought me along.”

“No, Mario brought you along. I wasn’t the biggest fan of the idea, but kept my mouth shut. Even if I think you deserve to be left down here… Mario’s the voice of reason for a reason. Now sit down, shut up, and pray to whatever being you believe in that this won’t end in disaster.”

Not waiting for another response, Wario hung the sword from his belt once more and made his way forward. The remainder of the group hunkered behind the closest rock while keeping an eye on Wario’s progress. Who barely made a sound as he closed in.

Soon standing above the crater, Wario felt as if the air around him was vibrating slightly. Not in a dangerous way. But one that gave the underlining warning of things could go bad quickly if there’s just one slip up. Taking a deep breath, Wario shifted to kneel down, getting a better position to pick the object up since he wasn’t able to tell how heavy it was. He attempted to ignore his furiously beating heart as he reached out. Fingers brushing over the smooth stone, mentally taking note that, for how dark and deep they were, the stone was surprisingly warm.

“Okay, okay, so far, so good…” Wario whispered. Getting a good grip, he gave a small grunt as he pulled up. Only to stumble slightly when the stone came out much easier than he expected. Causing him to roll away from the crater.

“Wario!” Mario called out while Skurvy laughed.

“I’m fine! I’m okay, I just thought it would put up more of a fight given how difficult it had been to get here. But I’ll take what I can get at this point.” Brushing off the dust and his embarrassment, Wario turned his attention back to the stone. Besides being lightweight, warm, intact, and seemingly having enough energy to cause quakes, there was nothing overly interesting about the piece.

Mario, having broken away from the coverage upon realizing they were probably out of the danger zone, leaned over Wario’s shoulder to get a better look. “What’s it feel like?”

“Uh, light…and warm.”

“Great description.”

“There’s really not much to it. Here.”

Mario fumbled slightly when the piece was tossed his way, but recovered fast enough to keep himself from dropping it. He turned it over in his hands a few times before pausing with its ‘face’ up at him. “Still no idea?”

“None. Never seen writings or pictures of this before.” Wario raised a brow as Skurvy joined them, Polterpup panting happily at the pirate’s feet. “What about you? You clearly like to taunt the fact you’ve seen more of this world that we have. What do you think it is?”

Skurvy shook his head. “Can’t be sayin’ it’s somethin’ familiar.”

“Great, so we have an ancient paperweight at the moment. Hopefully removing this will stop the tremors.”

“Why do you think they started?” Mario frowned. “This couldn’t have just happened for no reason.”

“If I learned anythin’ from my travels, tis that nature response when it feels in danger.” Skurvy commented. “Somethin’ be must be arrivin’ soon if this piece started actin’ up.”

“Could it be Boswer?”

“He might be planning something. But I have an uncomfortable hunch this isn’t related to him.” said Wario. He finally stood up, popping his back before looking around the cavern again. “Well, any ideas on how we’re getting out?”

“Maybe we could have Polterpup go to the surface and lead someone down? He’ll be able to find us, and nothing besides this thing has really caused us that much trouble.”

“My crew mean nothin’ to ya then?”

“Grambi above, please shut up, this isn’t about you. Are you sure we can’t leave him down here?”

“Wario-”

“It’s just a joke! I’m joking, stop looking at me like that!”

“Ye both argue like a married couple.”

“Shove it, you salt lizard.”

_____________________________

Rescue came in the form of multiple bi-pedal mice burrowing their way down, being led by an over excited Polterpup. Upon reaching the surface, Mario had a few seconds to quickly pass the stone back over to Wario before his arms were filled with an anxious Luigi. The older twin more than happy to keep the other close while the others discussed.

While Olivine was not overly thrilled to know that his kingdom had been temporarily invaded by pirates, he didn’t seem to have the energy to care much past that. Instead, after promising to uncover all they could of Skurvy’s crew, the desert king merely asked that they not return. Otherwise they would be treated as hostels.

Wario was a little concerned with how quiet Waluigi had been. Even the normal quips were kept to a minimum as they talked. But every eye catch was ended with a small shake of the head from the younger brother and Wario didn’t feel like pushing back. Deciding whatever Waluigi was going through right now was best left for him to deal with alone until he decided to open up.

“Oi, lad.”

Pulled from his musing over his brother’s rather grim stance, Wario turned to face Skurvy. Before he questioned what the other wanted, the pirate held out an envelope. One that held an interesting symbol: a large circle with a flat bottom ‘U’ chunk taken out from the top with two smaller circles appearing below the bottom one. Wario mentally noted it looked like a simplified version of someone’s face.

He was pushed on from Skurvy’s grunt. Wario pulled out the letter and read it over. It offered very little information, mainly the items that the pirate had discussed before. No name, overview of what they were supposed to take, and where to drop said items once it was in their possession.

However, near the bottom of the letter is what caught Wario’s attention. Mainly seeing Mario and Luigi’s name listed and a warning offered to Skurvy of the twin’s abilities.

Wario dropped the hand holding the letter to stare as Skurvy. “You knew… You knew of Mario’s powers, and that he would be here.”

“Aye.”

“Then…why did you act surprised?”

“One part, I didn’t believe it. I thought the client be messin’ with me. But…now that we’re out of this mess and I be thinkin’... It be a test.”

“For who, you?”

Skurvy shook his head. “Be for yer little champions over there, tis my assumption.”

“Test for what?”

“Yer guess be as good as mine. But…I suggest ye watch yer backs. Between yer little recovered trinket and this letter, I feel somethin’ bad be comin’ for them. Ye need ta prepare them for the worst.”

“Worse than Bowser?” “Aye, believin’ so.”

Wario turned back to the letter, bringing it up to read over once more. As if hoping he’d overlooked something that would offer up some leading clue. But it offered the same information as before.

“Keep it,” said Skurvy, “I ain’t have a use for it now. Ye might need it for somethin’.”

“Yeah, thanks… You know this doesn’t change anything, right? I still think you’re a piece of shit.”

“Then it best I ain’t be doin’ it for ye. I be doin’ it for him.” Skurvy nodded over to Mario, who was still comforting a shaken Luigi. “Ye got a good one there, Wario. Make sure ye keep ‘em safe. I can see how much ye already care for ‘em.”

Wario didn’t say more on this, merely offering a nod. Seeming rooted to the spot as Skurvy walked off to check on his own crew.

Miles away, hidden under the heavy shadow of the approaching night, watchful eyes monitored the progress happening at the ruined temple. One eventually lowered their scanners to activate their communicator.

“Ground to Lord Crump, come in Lord Crump.”

“This is Lord Crump, what is the status?”

“Sir, Kaptain Skurvy and his crew have failed their mission. Possession over the Sun Sprite has fallen to the Mushroom Kingdom. Along with the issue of uncompleted readings. We weren’t able to pull enough from Mario to determine strength.”

“What of Luigi then?”

“He was left behind at the castle. Mario and Wario were the ones who retrieved the Sun Sprite.”

There was a heavy sigh that sounded over the radio. “What a waste. No matter, we have other means to achieve the data. Collect what you have and report to base for further instructions.”

“Yes sir, over and out.” The communicator was clicked off and returned to their belt. The hooded being turned to the rest of their team. “You heard Lord Crump, we’re packing up and moving out. This was a wash.”

“At least we have enough of a reading to determine Luigi’s strength.” Another member said.

“You know better than to assume one reading is enough to determine any sort of outcome.”

“...Just trying to stay positive.”

“I’m positive we’ll be in serious trouble if we don’t report back in an appropriate amount of time. Let’s get out of here. I’m over the heat and the sand.”

“I hate sand.”

“Same.”

#s-creations #mario #luigi #mario and luigi #wario #waluigi #wario and waluigi #princess peach #princess daisy #fanfiction #yellow purple red green #yprg #super mario bros #named ocs #more about the past talk #some interesting plot points and a cliffhanger!

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merthwyn · 3 months ago

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The God of the outcasts

I would like to talk a bit about the song "God help the outcasts" from the movie "The Hunchback of Notre Dame". I loved this song since I was a child. The music, the graphics, the emotion that Esmeralda showed while singing it touched my heart. However, I never actually paid attention to the lyrics up until now. And the lyrics of a secular song talk about an issue that the majority of Christians either avoid to talk about, or ignore it's existence, or worse, despise it. If they talk about any outcast, it will either be generalisations about the needy of this world or about "certain groups" promoted by the regime and only for their own merit (a.k.a. to be admired by others).

But, who talks about the outcasts that live next door or sit right next to them at church? Who cares about those crying silently at the back of their church because they suffer from mental illnesses or fight with cancer or recently lost a child? Especially if their grief and agony is expressed in an "unacceptable way" or "lasts for too long"? They only say some Christianese to them and deep inside they wish they didn't express their pain because "they are not a good example of witnessing to visitors" and they destroy the whole happy clappy and positive example of a Christian that is preached and promoted at our church. "In our church I only see happy, positive and smiling people. Don't you think that you ruin the character of the church community with your misery? Maybe it's better for you to stay home and stop and think of whether it's your weak faith that causes this misery to you. I'll pray for you brother/sister". And then the happy faces "glorify God" for their wealth and achievements and the influence they have to non-Christians, and "thank Him" for not making them weak and miserable like those second rate Christians at the back of their church. Exactly like the Pharisee from the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector.

Now, let's see the actual lyrics of the song:

I don't know if You can hear me Or if You're even there

How many people, even Christians reach a point where they cry to God wondering whether He's still here or He has abandoned them like everyone else?

I don't know if You would listen To a gypsy's prayer

The "church family" and the preachers said it themselves after all. God doesn't bother with the weak ones. They are defective products to Him.

Yes, I know I'm just an outcast I shouldn't speak to You

Having internalised all these "loving" sermons and advices from the Christian "family", they now believe it themselves that they have no right to talk to God and burden Him with their abominative weakness.

Still, I see Your face and wonder Were You once an outcast, too?

And yet, in all this misery and agony, in all these certainty that God is indeed what the Church "family" preaches, they still have the "audacity" to remind God that Jesus was also an outcast and a "troublemaker" who ruined the spotless character of the Church.

God help the outcasts Hungry from birth Show them the mercy They don't find on earth God help my people We look to You, still God help the outcasts Or nobody will

The outcasts of the Church, the Christians of dispersion, the lonely, the sick the mentally ill, the "not-good-enoughs" cry to God asking Him to not hide His face from them like everyone else did. They cry for help. Actually, they DARE to cry for help.

Parishioners: I ask for wealth I ask for fame I ask for glory to shine on my name I ask for love I can possess I ask for God and His angels to bless me

Esmeralda: I ask for nothing I can get by But I know so many Less lucky than I Please help my people The poor and downtrod I thought we all were The children of God God help the outcasts Children of God

And then you have the above dialogue.

On one side, the church "family". The happy people, the successful ones, those who are doing great things for themselves in the name of God and fill the church with butts of new believers. Those who ask for glory in Jesus name. The Pharisees.

One the other hand, the outcasts. The abominations. Those who not only have achieved nothing but they even "block" the expansion of the Kingdom by daring to be "miserable". Those who don't care for fame or materials or glory. Those who only ask for the love and the mercy they never had. Those who dare to call themselves "children of God". The tax collectors.

This secular song written for children manages to expose the Church's hypocrisy, spiritual abuse and false doctrines. This secular song written for children manages to preach what the Church repetitively and triumphantly fails to preach. That God is indeed the God of the outcasts and hears their cries and despair.

youtube

#christianity #church hypocrisy #Christians of dispersion #outcasts #mental health #trauma recovery #trauma survivor #false doctrine #prosperity gospel #spiritual abuse #dinsey #the hunchback of notre dame #God help the outcasts #church #faith #grief

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somewhat-insane · 1 year ago

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Shadows of the Beach: Chapter Three

Here's the masterpost

Belated Meetings

Pairing: Ao Lie/Sun Wukong/Macaque

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Tags: Idiot gays being idiots and gay, Playful Banter, Teasing, Awkwardness, Jealousy, Mildly Unreliable Narrator

A/N: I'm super sorry this took so long, my laptop charger broke and then editing took a lot longer than I anticipated BUT, luckily for all of you, this is a big(ger) one. About 4,000 words over what I usually try to post. Plus, we get some cute moments between Wukong and Macaque AND we finally get to meet Ao Lie!! Oh! Plus, there's a reference to OSP's JTTW recaps!

In all honesty, Macaque probably should’ve seen this coming.

Or, heard, at the very least, as the large army donned in heavy celestial armor wasn’t exactly known for their silence when marching.

But, of course, a certain someone couldn’t stay quiet to save his life, not when he was as wound up as this, at least.

And for some reason, Macaque found himself tuning into Wukong’s rambled words, his glowing ears angled back towards the king, flicking as they picked up the distant sound of hurried footsteps but, uncharacteristically, the dark-furred monkey hadn’t thought anything of it, too wrapped up in his thoughts about what was being said to him.

Originally, Macaque had planned to listen and try to figure out the patterns the guards followed. He didn’t communicate this plan to Wukong but he feels that even if he had it wouldn’t have stopped the other from straying from it. And as far as Macaque was aware that would count as a new personal record for how quickly Wukong could stray from a plan.

Listening, apparently, was kind of difficult when your very unstealthy companion won’t stop rambling about how he’s going to “take you and Ao Lie for coffee” and then he gets sidetracked talking about how “wait, no, Ao Lie doesn’t like coffee” and how “it would be better to go for cheese tea,” even though “Ao Lie hasn’t tried cheese tea before- or milk tea. I wonder what he’ll think about it.”

“Quiet,” Macaque had hissed, smacking Wukong upside the head. This was, admittedly, a pointless endeavor but he did enjoy seeing the way Wukong pouted which Macaque definitely didn’t think was cute, and if anyone said otherwise Macaque would kill them.

He should’ve known from experience that Wukong wouldn’t listen. He never did. No matter how many times Macaque tried to warn him about something when they were younger, Wukong would always insist that Macaque was just being a “grumbletonian.” Now he just called him a buzzkill. Those shows Wukong liked to watch were surely the cause of Wukong’s declining vocabulary, but with the memes MK had been sending, Macaque wasn’t much better these days either.

Had you asked, Macaque would’ve told you–not without ample snark in his tone–that Wukong was just far too annoying and loud to tune out. But he knew his subconscious reasoning for listening to the other ran deeper than that. Perhaps the familiarity had been alluring enough that he found himself falling into old habits, or maybe Macaque was still in the mindset of trying to find Wukong’s weaknesses and was listening in the hopes that something would slip.

You could argue over the real reason forever but, either way, the baseline was that Macaque had been… distracted. Loathe as he did to admit it.

The monkey’s dark tail flicked at the air behind him as he tried to ignore how reminiscent this felt compared to past missions with Wukong. When they were younger. This was different though. He had to remind himself of that.

Back then he convinced Wukong to let him tag along specifically because he cared about his king and would do anything he could to ensure his safe return, but now he tagged along so MK wouldn’t be abandoned again (as much as Macaque insisted Wukong was still bad company, the kid cared for the fool and Macaque was weak when it came to what MK wanted.)

And if Macaque also got to death glare Ao Lie when they finally found him; that was just a bonus. And it definitely, definitely wasn’t because he was jealous. Because that would imply he had something to be jealous of, and that definitely wasn’t true because he didn’t even want to be able to run his fingers through Wukong’s soft, golden fur like old times, and- … Okay, Macaque wasn’t really helping his case here.

When Macaque couldn’t convince Wukong not to travel to the celestial realm alone, he insisted Wukong at least let him come along to help him sneak around. (Additionally, when Wukong insisted he was ‘the Great Sage Equal to Heaven’ and prattled on about not needing to sneak around, Macaque was there to roll his eyes and point out that the celestial realm was most likely a bit scattered after the Jade Emperor’s death and might not be too receptive of visitors right now, especially not the likes of Wukong. (Wukong was incredibly offended by this.) Macaque even brought up the fact that they might try to pin the emperor's death on Wukong himself and while Macaque wouldn’t necessarily blame them, it would make things a deal more complicated.)

Having a more advanced range of hearing and the ability to travel by shadow greatly increased the chance they would get out of this without Wukong getting trapped under a mountain again, no matter how funny that would be to Macaque.

Idly, he wondered how the court would go about punishing Wukong in the emperor’s absence. Not that the emperor was very key in punishing Wukong in the first place. (Wukong would beg to differ, the furnace may not have killed him but being stuck in there was absolute hell, and he would know.) He wondered if they could even punish him.

Of course, unlike some people, Macaque wasn’t foolish enough to entertain such a thought process and swiftly banished it to focus on more important things. Such as, their current predicament: being surrounded by celestial guards in the courtyard with sharp-looking spears pointed at them, which Wukong mused was oddly reminiscent of the ‘warm’ reception he got at the Dragon Palace of the East Sea.

If he wasn’t in such a jittery mood, he might’ve made a joke about looking so tasty everyone wanted to turn him into a kebob. Which surely would’ve rewarded him a punch in the face from Macaque.

Surprisingly, Macaque noticed, Wukong didn’t immediately lash out at them as he had expected. Macaque had prepared himself to have to be the voice of reason and keep Wukong from going on a murdering spree; something he was all too keen to do when he was younger. But, for once, Wukong was still.

Well, mostly. Out of the corner of his eye, Macaque could see the way Wukong’s tail twitched impatiently, annoyed at this interruption in their plan but not necessarily surprised. And Macaque could tell Wukong was weighing his options, kill all the guards and find Ao Lie sooner but risk being punished or be patient and not find Ao Lie sooner but don’t get punished.

It was, indeed, a toughy.

Macaque must admit he was impressed by how much progress Wukong had made in controlling his impulses.

Of course, he wasn’t about to tell Wukong that. Ever. That joke of a man soaked up praise like a sponge. And if he knew Macaque thought anything even remotely positive about him, Wukong’d never let him live it down.

The celestial armies had grown a lot less afraid of Wukong after his journey had tamed him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still capable of all that destruction that had once been whispered about behind closed doors and in banquets as kings bemoaned the status they had lost as a result of Wukong killing thousands of their men.

Not that they hadn’t deserved it, Macaque thought, but blood was always so hard to clean out of Wukong’s fur. Especially considering he was ticklish and would squirm out of Macaque’s hold.

It was like trying to wash a cat.

Speaking of Wukong, said monkey took a deep breath in through his nose, closing his eyes to allow himself a moment of composure–something his master had tought him, no doubt–before he opened his eyes and plastered a strained grin onto his face that probably only added to the intimidation factor by making Wukong look unhinged. Though, that was probably his intent the entire time, “Fellas! Great to see you!”

His words earned nothing more than glares from behind helmets.

“Aw, why the cold shoulder? I thought we were all good!” Wukong pouts theatrically, making Macaque sigh and facepalm, grumbling a string of curses to himself. How did he constantly find himself in these situations? With Wukong no less. And they called him the theater kid, Macaque lamented, running his fingers through his dark fur as he took it upon himself to study the guards around them for weakness. One of the two monkeys had to pretend not to be an idiot, after all.

Despite their attempts to hide it and seem composed, Macaque noticed some of the guards sharing nervous glances.

Wukong, the self-absorbed jerk he was, noticed this and couldn’t help but puff his chest out pridefully at the effect he had on the guards, happy his reputation still rang strong within certain groups. His fur ruffled like the feathers of a proud mother hen, and Macaque found himself rolling his eyes almost affectionately at the familiar sight.

One of the guards went to speak up after a moment, clearing their throat and straightening their posture, adjusting the spear in their hands and keeping it pointed noticeably at Macaque instead of Wukong.

The idea that they would threaten Macaque to keep Wukong in line made the golden-furred monkey’s stomach twist uncomfortably as he grit his teeth, his tail lashing behind him. Despite whatever bad blood still rested within the unspoken words hanging between them, Wukong still didn’t like dragging people into his messes, and that included Macaque.

Admittedly, the tactic was smart, but he couldn’t help but wonder how they knew it would bother him so much. Though, of course, they were probably still working on outdated information from when Wukong and Macaque had been an inseparable duo. He had to swallow down his emotions to keep from spiraling, attempting to focus on the guard’s gruff voice, “What business do you have here, demons?”

With a still-furrowed brow, Wukong forced his scowl down into another grin that looked more like a grimace as he attempted a low whistle through his clenched teeth, “Demons, ey? ‘S been a while since anyone called me a demon. My name was always seen to be far more terrifying.”

Macaque didn’t say anything, just leveling Wukong with an unimpressed glare, something Wukong pouted in response to, though there was something playful about it as his tail swayed, his faux grin falling as he switched tactics, rolling his shoulders back and humming contentedly in response to the satisfying pop he was rewarded with, the noise making Macaque’s ear twitch and, at some point alone the line, his gaze had drifted away from the guards and to Wukong, studying his form that, to the untrained eye would seem casual and confident, but Macaque saw the small telltale signs that said otherwise.

Offering an exaggerated sigh, Wukong leaned against Macaque, much to the shadow monkey’s chagrin, “Oh, how cruelly the world doth treat us, my friend.”

Rolling his eyes, mildly amused with Wukong’s theatrics, Macaque let his companion continue, seeing it as the idle distraction it was. This, at least, Macaque remembered, and he was slightly amused it hadn’t changed. Essentially, Wukong was making a plan. And while he wasn’t the best at doing so, Macaque had to admit he was curious enough to entertain him in this. Just this once, he told himself, despite remembering thinking the same thing many years ago

Shifting his gaze to the nearest guard, Wukong spoke once again, “If you lot must know, we’re here to see Ne Zha.”

The guard that had had the guts to speak responded with a deep frown, the corners of his mouth creasing and Wukong could just barely see the muscles in his jaw twitch as he grit his teeth. Seems like this one was easily irritated, Wukong observed, trying to hide the mischievous grin that threatened to form on his face as the guard continued, “And what business-”

Wukong groaned, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his grin even as his tail swayed with amusement, something Macaque easily picked up on and, while he admired the dedication to the craft, he was left to wonder when Wukong grew patient enough to pull such tricks instead of just punching through all of his problems. Sure, Wukong had been confident before, but he was confident in the way that he would thoughtlessly challenge the Buddha instead of thinking things through. He always ended up succumbing to stage fright whenever he was supposed to act on something other than his impulses.

“Look, I don’t have time for this so let’s cut to the chase,” Wukong huffed, crossing his arms after he had finally schooled his expression into a frown, “if you let me, Sun Wukong, the Great Sage,” Macaque rolled his eyes at the name drop; as if the guards weren’t already well aware of who they were dealing with and what he could do, Macaque thought sarcastically, “and my friend, the six-eared Macaque,” this part gave Macaque pause as he wasn’t expecting to be included in Wukong’s attempts to intimidate them and he definitley wasn’t expecting to be referred to as a friend.

“go about our business, we won’t kill you…” he paused, pursing his lips and squinting his eyes in thought, “probably.”

Macaque huffed out a dry laugh, finally playing along with Wukong by letting a sharp-toothed grin spread over his face.

“Speak for yourself,” he purred maliciously as he made eye contact with one of the guards, letting his eyes flash violet for a moment as he relished in the way they tensed and fumbled with their weapon.

He felt Wukong’s tail brush against his leg as the appendage swayed more adamantly, not doing much to hide Wukong’s joy at the moment. Whether it was because Macaque was joining in or just because of the way the guard acted, Macaque didn’t know. Nor did he want to.

Normally, Macaque would’ve shot Wukong a glare for touching him, but instead, he just gave an almost fond sigh as he shook his head.

Okay, maybe he understood why Wukong liked doing this. They were all just so easy to scare, it was honestly hilarious. Macaque’s thoughts were interrupted as another voice cut into the tense silence.

“We know who you are,” one brave-sounding guard said, looking ready to thrust his spear into Wukong’s chest.

Wukong hummed in amusement. Brave, but dumb, he noted, as that guard was one of the only ones pointing their spear at Wukong instead of Macaque. Obviously, they hadn’t done their research. Not that they would’ve needed to. It’d been a long time since he’d genuinely attacked the celestial realm… unless you counted stealing the map which he still insisted was necessary and no one died which was… impressive to say the least considering it was something Wukong was involved in. Welp, Wukong thought, might as well use this guard to teach the others a lesson.

In one swift movement, Wukong moved to be closer to the guard and grabbed the spear, yanking it so the guard stumbled forward. Wukong let the glamours fall from his eyes, the ominous red glow bouncing off of the helmet and the wide eyes of the being in front of him.

“And what exactly do you think this little toy is going to do to me?” Wukong spoke, his voice menacingly deep in a way that would shake someone right down to their core. Just the sound of it even had Macaque’s fur standing on end, though, possibly not from fear. Wukong grabbed the guard’s head to keep them still as he tore the spear from their grip, spinning it in his hold so the business end would be pointed directly at them. But before Wukong could plunge it into their skull, the sound of a familiar voice ringing out across the courtyard made him freeze.

“Halt!” it had called out.

The golden-furred monkey sucked in a sharp, almost pained-sounding breath through his teeth. And while Macaque and Wukong hadn’t been friends for centuries and had long since lost the ability to tell just with a look what the other was thinking, it wasn’t hard to guess what that reaction meant.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me…” Wukong grumbled as he turned on his heel to regard the figure stomping towards them with a dog at his heels, his aggressive nature startling some of the guards who immediately parted to allow the imposing figure and his companion to step into the circle they had ‘trapped’ the two spiritual primates in.

“Erlang!” Wukong chimed through grit teeth, “How’ve you been old friend?”

“I assure you we are nothing of the sort, simian,” Erlang huffed haughtily, turning his nose up at Wukong in disgust, “for your benefit, I hope you have a valid reason for threatening my guards.”

“Mmm, yeah, see, you’re just gonna love this. Super funny story really I-” Wukong was about to respond sarcastically but paused, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow as he took in Erlang’s disheveled appearance, his hair unkempt and bags under his eyes, even keeping up his regal posture appeared to be exhausting to him.

Despite the incredibly small pang of sympathy he felt toward the guy, Wukong couldn’t help but snort in amusement, whatever he was planning to say immediately leaving his brain, “did your gold fish get away or something?”

An amused grin played on Macaque’s lips in response to Wukong’s reference to “Guan-I-woke-up-like-this-yin”.

Erlang lacked the grace Guanyin had even in those moments though.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Erlang sighed with clear annoyance at the situation unfolding before him. An understandable reaction to being in Wukong’s presence, Macaque mused, his grin still present.

“For the love of- I do not have time for your pathetic attempts at humor, monkey,” Erlang growled. And Wukong couldn’t help but wonder if Erlang found himself humorous, because if that was the case, well, Wukong had some news to give him.

“Clearly,” Wukong responded, gesturing to Erlang’s… everything.

With an incredibly irritated sigh, Erlang crossed his arms.

“Not that it concerns you,” Erlang grits out, eye twitching in irritation, “but not only have I been trying to clean up Azure’s mess–which I can only assume you had ample part in–but I also have to take over some of my uncle’s previous duties for the foreseeable future. Which, even with his power locked away, are not things that should be taken lightly.”

“Right, right, for sure,” Wukong hummed, nodding along but making it very clear he wasn’t actually listening, “so, obviously you have better things to do than deal with two michevious little monkeys, and we should just waltz on through and-”

Wukong was cut off as the guards all step closer to the pair, their spears glinting in the light and making Macaque subconsciously step closer to Wukong, bumping their shoulders together, making both of them tense at the contact.

Something about this was far too reminiscent and the two immediately stepped away.

Glancing at Macaque, Wukong’s tail twitched as if wanting to curl around him in some form. When they were younger, he always had to be touching Macaque in some way, shape, or form, be it holding his hand and tugging him along or wrapping his tail around his ankle, wrist or tail. It was just instinct though and Wukong had to remind himself of that. He had to remind himself he didn’t want to be touching Macaque and even if he did, he couldn’t. The wall between them had very briefly been breached–on accident, mind you–but it was already being very quickly rebuilt. Stronger, this time.

“I’m afraid I can not let you do that,” Erlang finally responded, arms folded behind his back.

Wukong huffed, his grin growing more strained by the second as he kept his eyes on the spears closest to Macaque. While Macaque was ageless, he could still be harmed and killed. And for some odd reason, Wukong refused to let that happen again. He also refused to think about it too much.

“Yeah?” Wukong laughed humorlessly, unglamoured eyes glaring at the guards, “and why’s that?”

“To let two of the most notorious trouble-makers roam the celestial realm freely during the current circumstances would be incredibly stupid.”

“Good thing you’re incredibly stupid then,” Wukong grumbled before sighing, “look, man…”

Erlang’s eye twitched at being addressed so informally by the monkey but he let it slide, if only so he could try and get the two out of the celestial realm as soon as possible.

“We just want to talk to Ne Zha,” Wukong continued, going for civil and unassuming. Succeeding about as well as you’d expect someone with his reputation could.

Erlang’s eyes narrow, “the celestial realm has fallen prey to your tricks far too many times, monkey, I plan to bring an end to that.”

“Pfft- don’t flatter yourself.”

Unsurprisingly, this earns Wukong a glare from Erlang. He expected a glare from Macaque as well but… Macaque had his hand over his mouth and an arm wrapped around his torso as he basically vibrated as he tried to contain his laughter. Well, at least he was enjoying himself, Wukong thought, trying not to show the pride that bubbled up inside of him at being able to make the other laugh though, for a moment he did consider the possibility that Macaque was, per usual, laughing at him but that was something that could wait until later.

“I would not suggest letting your hubris get the best of you. Currently,” Erlang hums, summoning a spear and expertly twirling it in his hold, “you are on… ideal terms with the celestial realm after your companionship with the great monk. Your friend… less so after that little stunt he pulled with the Lady Bone Demon.” This made Macaque’s fur bristle and he had half the mind to correct the celestial but he still held his tongue, knowing, from having read the Journey to the West, that Erlang was a force to be reckoned with. Wukong, despite his teasing nature, clearly knew this too as he stayed silent and allowed Erlang to finish his point, a grace Wukong was not willing to grant to many. “Even so, I assure you no harm will come to either of you if you return to the mortal realm. You are not the only immortals who are being kept out for the foreseeable future.”

“Ah, right,” Wukong hums, “gotta keep that Jade Emporer power safe, hmm? Can’t have someone stealing it. Especially not a little, harmless, monkey. I mean, that’s why you have to keep us out, right? Because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to stand a chance against us.”

Erlang narrowed his eyes, “Keeping you out is a precaution, we are more than capable of detaining you again if it comes to it. It’s a very thin sense of respect that keeps us from doing so anyway.”

Wukong hummed, though it was clear in the way his brow creased that the idea of being trapped again struck a cord within him. His fingers twitched at his side and he ached for the weight of his staff in his hands. He wasn’t powerless by any means of the word, but it always felt nice to have a weapon he was confident in wielding. His fists were always a good substitute though.

“We would trap you under a mountain again long before we let something happen,” Erlang reiterated, mildly aware of the effect his words had on Wukong. Defiance and pride sparked through his eyes as he barely held back from snarking about how Wukong had lost his edge after all these years.

“Hmm, well, in that case…” Wukong’s brow furrowed as he closed his eyes, a rare thoughtful look pulling at his expression as if he was honestly trying to puzzle out a solution to this conundrum or just trying to calm himself down. Still, the look was fleeting, and within a few seconds, his eyes had opened with a challenging glint.

At that moment Macaque was sure he saw a slight shift, almost as if Wukong’s frame flickered for a moment.

As a companion to that sight, he heard the tell-tale chime of Wukong using his magic.

Golden smoke swirled around Wukong’s feet to add to the odd spectacle but the monkey did his best to swat the clouds away with his tail, trying to hide… something.

While suspicious and odd, it must have worked well enough considering Macaque couldn’t figure out for the life of him what Wukong had done before his attention was drawn away once Wukong spoke again, his ears pitching forward instinctively after being pulled so suddenly from his thoughts.

“Gotta catch me first!” And before either Macaque or Erlang could say anything to stop him, (as if anything they said would be able to stop him anyway) Wukong jumped up into the air and easily landed on his Nimbus, darting off in the opposite direction he and Macaque were originally headed. Which was just really annoying on top of impractical.

“What the- Get him!” Erlang yells, he and the rest of the guards quickly moving to chase after the elusive monkey, leaving Macaque alone in the courtyard.

Abandoned again, Macaque mused with a sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest, annoyance bubbling up in his chest at the familiar situation.

But that feeling was short-lived as none other than Wukong suddenly popped up beside him in a puff of golden smoke and grabbed Macaque’s hand, tugging him in the direction they had originally been headed, his face screwed into an expression of intense concentration as he used his knowledge of the celestial realm to map out exactly where they were and where it would be most tactical to head toward next.

“Wha- Wukong??”

“Clone,” Wukong responded, gesturing back toward the way his clone went and offering very little more in terms of explanation, leaving Macaque to feel mildly annoyed that Wukong didn’t even try to communicate that–the man has telepathy, it couldn’t have been that hard to just mentally tell Macaque “hey, I’m about to make a clone to lead them away but don’t worry, I’m not actually ditching you,” but like, whatever–as he dragged Macaque through a large ornate doorway and into a long and equally impressive hallway, briefly glancing at Macaque to offer a task, “tell me if you hear them coming back our way.”

Macaque opened his mouth to argue, his brows furrowing as he glared intently at the back of Wukong’s head when the golden-furred monkey turned his attention forward, but essentially he decided against saying anything. Instead, he let his ears fan out, closing his eyes and surprisingly trusting Wukong to guide him during his moment of slight vulnerability.

He heard the group's loud footsteps moving away and Wukong's clone's laughter, which abruptly ceased, accompanied by the sound of something poofing. There was a brief pause before Erlang groaned, his annoyance at having been bested by Wukong again incredibly clear, but he didn’t guide the army back towards where they had been before, knowing well enough that the real Wukong could be miles away by then.

Reluctantly, he conceded and told a few of his best soldiers to keep their eye out for the mischievous duo. Macaque allowed himself to bask in a brief moment of satisfaction at that, ignoring the feelings that threatened to rise to the surface if he thought too much about the two of them being a duo. He blinked open his eyes and focused back on the Wukong in front of him, the real Wukong. Macaque pursed his lips in brief thought before huffing out a soft chuckle.

Well played, Wukong, he thought, well played.

Finally, after a while of running, Wukong slowed down and the two continued to walk in silence for a while before Macaque cleared his throat to catch Wukong’s attention. It worked and Wukong looked back at him with an unspoken question clear in his eyes, only for Macaque to respond by pointing at their still-connected hands.

The golden monkey, much to Macaque’s annoyance, stopped walking after looking down at their hands, his brow furrowing in confusion as he tried to puzzle out what was wrong with the situation.

They were holding hands, so what? They used to hold hands all the time when they were frie- oh. Oh. Right. Right… not friends anymore. Just… barely allies. Wukong pointedly ignores the feelings swirling in his chest at that reminder.

His face flushed slightly in embarrassment at his forgetfulness as he pulled his hand away, wondering why Macaque hadn’t pulled away earlier and instead chose to point it out to Wukong. Distastefully, Wukong wondered if Macaque was afraid enough of him to believe he would lash out at the action. However, that couldn’t be the case because Macaque regularly picked fights with Wukong and pushed him to his limits… still, the question lodged itself into Wukong’s mind and he knew he wouldn’t be forgetting about it anytime soon. He still couldn’t get that image of Macaque cowering away from his fist during the Samadhi fire incident of his head. Among… other images.

Wukong cupped his hand in the other, trying to ignore the lingering feeling of Macaque’s touch on his palm, and turned away from Macaque, fur noticeably poofed up as he grumbled something that almost sounded like an apology as he sped down the hallway to put distance between them.

Macaque couldn’t help but snort, rolling his eyes as he slipped into the shadows to trail after Wukong more easily. Once Wukong had finally slowed back down to a more natural walking pace, Macaque emerged, making his presence known to the distracted monkey by brushing his tail against Wukong’s, making him jump and whip his head around, his momentary surprise melting away as his gaze hardened into a glare.

“Jerk,” Wukong mumbled, crossing his arms and looking away with a pout.

“Coward,” Macaque responded playfully, watching in satisfaction as Wukong’s shoulders relaxed slightly and he brought his arms back down to his sides, still looking annoyed and, to be honest, Macaque couldn’t tell if it was because of him or because being in the celestial realm generally set Wukong on edge, as much as the golden monkey liked to pretend that it didn’t.

Another moment of silence passed, this one almost comfortable as they walked side by side, a noticeable distance between them that hadn’t been there when they were younger.

Macaque was annoying, but Wukong had to admit he enjoyed the more casual banter they shared now that they were on speaking terms again. It was far better than having to listen to words chock-full of hurtful intent. No one knew how to get under Wukong’s skin better than Macaque did. And vice versa he liked to believe.

“So…” Macaque starts, once again being the one to break the silence, “what’s the plan?”

“Plan?” Wukong asks, prompting Macaque to raise a brow at him, “oh- right! The plan! Uh…”

Wukong stopped walking, pursing his lips in thought.

“Oh for-” Macaque grumbled, running a hand over his face, “you don’t even have a plan!?”

“I didn’t have time to make a plan!” Wukong insists, gesturing wildly in the air as if that would make Macaque look past his ignorance.

Macaque rolled his eyes with a snort, “Yeah, seems like a common thing with you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Wukong huffed, gritting his teeth and crossing his arms. Okay, so maybe they weren’t fully past hurtful words.

“What do you think it’s supposed to mean?” Macaque asked rhetorically, glaring at Wukong as he mimicked him and crossed his arms as well.

Frowning, Wukong started walking again, eyes glued ahead as he felt anger boiling to life in his chest, “For the record, I did have a plan for the Samadhi fire.”

“Sure you did,” Macaque hummed with a shrug, following behind Wukong, the distance between them increasing and Wukong feared that was true in more ways than one. Still, despite knowing it would only deepen the ravine between them, Wukong couldn’t keep himself from adding: “And it would’ve worked if you hadn’t intervened!”

��Really?” Macaque chuckled darkly, stepping in front of Wukong and placing a hand on his chest to get him to stop as well, the touch making Wukong tense, looking at Macaque with a furrowed brow as a growl threatened to start up in his throat, “Even if you had gotten the ring out of the dragon girl and into you, you don’t have the same ‘dragon heritage’ that kept her alive. The Samadhi Fire is the only fire that can hurt you. For all we know, you could very well have died. And you would’ve taken reality as we know it down with you.~”

Wukong stared at Macaque for a moment with a shocked expression, his brows raised as he looked into Macaque’s eyes which glinted in cruel amusement, something that stoked the growing flame of Wukong’s conflicted rage, a mixture of shock that Macaque knew that and confusion at why he’d bring it up mixing in the emotional stew.

Finally, Wukong’s warring emotions settled into bland irritation, though there was no doubt something more explosive brewing under the surface as his brow furrowed and he looked away, taking in a shuddering breath before grabbing Macaque’s wrist and looking back towards him with a glare,

“I’m sure you would’ve loved it if that were the case,” Wukong grit out with a huff, pulling Macaque’s hand off him and shouldering past him aggressively. Macaque stayed standing there for a moment, a conflicted expression on his face as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, considering Wukong’s words. Not because they held any merit, mind you, but because he couldn’t figure out if Wukong meant the part about him dying or the part about reality being destroyed. Not that it particularly mattered which one since Macaque didn’t care for either. But it’s not like he could just admit that now, could he?

With a confused frown, Macaque decided it was not worth it to care and turned to continue following Wukong, leaving the tense silence to fester between them.

Admittedly, Wukong did seem to have some sort of odd method to his madness. One that only he could follow, no doubt, but it was there.

Having been in the celestial realm much longer than Macaque, Wukong had some sense of where things were and where Ne Zha would most likely be, so he had taken the lead. Up until this far, walking through a long outdoor hallway with ornate vine-covered pillars, they’d just explored various gardens and studies.

“Considering that kid can’t take a break for the life of him,” Wukong had said, momentarily forgetting about the words that still hung between them in favor of focusing on something he might actually have the power to fix, for once, “he’s probably tasked himself with guarding the Jade Emperor’s power.”

“If you knew that then didn’t we just go to the Jade Emperor’s power in the first place?” Macaque asked, much less willing to pretend that things were fine between them. Not right now, at least. It was easier to pretend when their common denominator, MK, was there. Or maybe in the rare moments where they sat on opposite ends of the couch, monkeys curled up on their laps and draped over their shoulders as they watched trash TV in mildly comfortable silence. But the tenseness between them right now was like a thick smog in the air, the type that stings your eyes and makes your throat close up. Nearly impossible to ignore.

Unless, of course, there was some sort of distraction, he mused. But that would never-

“Uncle?”

Macaque’s ears twitched at the familiar voice and he froze, looking up, raising a brow, before blurting out the first name that came to mind, “Red?”

They both started speaking at the same time, “What are you-”

They also stopped speaking at the same time as they blinked at each other before both chuckling. Red Son, someone Macaque was only semi-recently formerly acquainted with despite having known his parents for centuries, politely raised a hand to cover his mouth as he chuckled, both of them momentarily forgetting about the mildly confused witness standing awkwardly on the sidelines.

Considering Red Son was very young when Wukong trapped his father under that mountain, he had never really seen Wukong as anyone other than the man who tore the Demon Bull Family from its foundations and left it as shaky scaffolding that threatened to blow over in the wind, only kept up by Red Son’s and his mother’s combined efforts, something that seldom seemed enough as in the beginning they were just two grieving demons; a child, young and stripped of his power, forced to relearn the core of his magic; and a mother, hollow without her husband and forced to raise her son alone. It wasn’t long before Red Son did his best to remedy the lack of manpower though, the first bull clones hadn’t been perfect but they were a good proof of concept. Nevertheless, point is, Red Son (despite vaguely remembering a time when he had sat upon strong shoulders–not as broad as his father’s–with his hands pulling curiously at golden fur, the owner of which chuckled, unbothered by the child’s actions,) had long since stopped seing Wukong in any kind of fond light. Macaque on the other hand, despite being physically absent, was still often brought up by Iron Fan in conversation, her tone fond and wistful as she would lament about how often Macaque had to get the other brotherhood members out of trouble. Her stories notably lacking Wukong. As a result of these stories though, Red Son felt closer to Macaque when he was being raised than he had ever felt to Wukong, and after meeting Macaque in person, and being introduced formerly to him by MK, Red Son was all too eager to reinstate the title he had once used for Wukong. And Macaque definitely didn’t tear up when Red Son called him Uncle.

Of course, predictably, it wasn’t long before Wukong got antsy and interjected himself into the conversation Red Son and Macaque had started having.

“Red boy!” Wukong chimed, draping his arm over a now very disgruntled Red Son’s shoulders.

“Wukong…” Red greeted distastefully.

“You’re not gonna rat us out are you?” Wukong asked, almost sounding genuinely anxious.

“If you don’t stop touching me I might,” the young demon scowled, prompting Wukong to chuckle nervously and back off with his palms held out in a placating gesture, which Red Son only huffed smoke out of his nostrils at.

“Noted,” Wukong hums, placing his hands on his hips and tilting his head, “so, what are you doing in the celestial realm? I thought your family was taking a break from conquering the world. I don’t think MK would be too happy to have to start fighting you again.”

Red Son scoffs, his cheeks flushing slightly at that last part as he looked away, the reaction confusing Wukong.

“Like I would tell you anything,” the bull demon hissed.

Wukong is about to argue back but Macaque shoves a hand over his mouth and speaks up, not wanting Wukong to start something possibly explosive in the middle of the celestial realm, “What’cha doin’ here, Red?”

“Oh, that’s easy, I came to speak with Ne Zha.”

Macaque grins triumphantly, glancing towards Wukong and-

“DID YOU JUST LICK ME!?” He hissed, jerking his hand away from Wukong’s mouth and wiping the slobber off on Wukong’s sleeve.

“You’ll live,” Wukong huffed, wiping the spit off his chin as a cocky grin pulls at his lips, ever excited to cause Macaque discomfort, “I just don’t see why Red Boy can’t answer me but can answer you.”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because you’re annoying,” Macaque grumbled, childishly sticking his tongue out at Wukong, pulling a dramatic, affronted gasp from Wukong.

“Well, I-” Wukong started, placing a hand on his chest as he pretended to be thoroughly scandalized by the display, only for his theatrics to be rudely interrupted.

“And an idiot,” the young bull demon added.

“Hey-” Wukong pouted, genuinely upset his bit was ruined.

“Oh, and-” Macaque chimed, only to be interrupted as Wukong punched him in the shouler, pulling a chuckle from him which was surely not the reaction Wukong was going for but he can’t find it in himself to be upset at the outcome.

It was honestly kind of funny. Sometimes they fought like children, and sometimes they fought like a married couple, Red Son mused with a slight smirk, but, unless he wanted to be hunted for sport, he could never say that thought out loud.

“So, what’s your business with Ne Zha, kid?” Macaque finally asked, tail swaying slightly from the lingering amusement of getting to mess with Wukong.

“Oh! I, uh… I came to ask for advice on what to get the noodle-” The demon’s eyes darted over to Wukong before narrowing as he slowly continued, carefully deciding his words, “my… partner as a, um, courting gift.”

Macaque nodded, unsurprised at this information, having been one of the first people Red came to when he first started attempting to court the monkey king’s successor. Based on the nervous look the demon had given Wukong, Macaque would bet that Wukong didn’t know yet. Which also wasn’t surprising, because Wukong was incredibly dense. Guess that’s what happens when your brain is made of stone.

Wukong snorted, clearly amused, “I wouldn’t go to Ne Zha for that kind of thing.”

“And why is that?”

Both Red Son and Wukong jolted slightly at the sound of the familiar voice, though more out of surprise than anything else. Macaque, having heard Ne Zha approaching but not caring enough to let Wukong know, merely allowed his gaze to lazily travel over to the lotus prince, giving a casual nod in greeting that was met with a slight shrug. Despite mostly hating each other, they had fun gossiping about Wukong together that one time and they both cared about MK so they resolved to, at the very least, not be hostile.

Macaque was only mildly surprised when, instead of backtracking as any sensible person would do, Wukong turned to Ne Zha with a brow raised as he huffed out an amused laugh and used Macaque’s shoulder as an armrest, much to Macaque’s dismay.

“Ey! Ne Zha! Old buddy! We were just talking about you!” Wukong chuckled to himself, clearly the only one who was entertained by this situation. With a hum, Wukong addressed Ne Zha’s question, “do you want the whole list or do you want me to just say some stuff off the top of my head?”

With a tired sigh that was usually reserved for exhausted parents, Ne Zha rubbed at his temples. Wukong, for whatever reason, took this as a sign to continue spouting his bullshit.

“First off, you’re like, what, twelve? Second, I doubt you know the first thing about romance, I mean, you’d probably be married to your job if you could be.”

Ne Zha’s eye twitched and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He’s barely even been in Wukong’s presence for fifteen minutes and he already wants to leave. But, alas, he did have a reason for appearing when he did.

However… it wouldn’t hurt to set the record straight first, “just because I am not interested in romantic affairs doesn’t mean I am unaware of the concept. Nor does it mean I would be unwilling to advise the Demon Dull prince and- are you even listening, Wukong?”

“Mmm,” Wukong hummed, picking at the dirt under his claws, “not at all, why?”

Sighing, Ne Zha took a moment to breathe, opening his mouth to scold Wukong but paused as he was struck with an idea and a rare mischievous grin pulled at his expression, the look setting everyone on edge as they wondered what he might be thinking.

“Oh, no reason…” He turned his back on Wukong, which was a risky move considering what he was about to say, “I just thought you might be interested in learning where Ao Lie is…”

Wukong immediately went stock still, his tail, which had previously been casually swaying, stiffened to the point of almost looking petrified. Macaque and Red Son watched as Wukong’s face fell, only for it to morph into something else moments later as his eyes went red and he bared his teeth. His fur bristled and neither Macaque nor Red Son could even think to stop him before he went to pounce.

Unsurprisingly, Ne Zha expected the reaction and leaped out of the way, watching as Wukong stumbled, struggling to reinstate his balance after his target moved, leaving him to skid slightly before crouching down again, no doubt getting prepared to try again.

“Tell me where he is,” Wukong spoke, the previous casualness and teasing aura that he had before completely gone, replaced by this desperate kind of aggression that brought back unwanted memories for Macaque and startled Red Son. Macaque didn’t miss the way Red Son stepped closer to him.

It made sense, Red Son had been a baby back when Wukong was on the journey, he’s never had to see this side of him before.

It had always been clear that Red Son disliked the monkey king, but the fear he had was only because of hearing stories and knowing vaguely what he was capable of. Now that he got to see Wukong’s impulsive rage first hand… he just considered himself glad he survived the punch in the ribs he got when Wukong was possessed.

“He was going to, you idiot,” Macaque finally huffed, making Wukong pause in his attack for a second.

Ne Zha nodded, still tense as though expecting Wukong to try and pounce at him again, “I have no reason to keep his whereabouts from you.”

“You’ve kept them from me this long,” Wukong growled, referring to the time Ao Lie had spent trapped in the scroll, and the group watched as guilt flashed over Ne Zha’s expression.

“I was not aware of what had happened to your companion,” he spoke honestly, and Wukong’s fur flattened slightly, the glamour on his eyes returning, “not until I had to release everyone trapped within the scroll. It was as much a surprise to me as it was for you.”

Wukong glared at the ground for a moment, clearly wanting to take out his anger on someone but wanting to see Ao Lie more. So, he sighed and looked back up at Ne Zha, “take me to him.”

No one spoke for the rest of that walk. Red Son had gone back to the mortal realm, accepting that this wasn’t the best time to look for advice and deciding to either come back another time or ask his mother, though that ran the risk of his father finding out and Red Son was just… really not ready to have that conversation.

That left Wukong and Macaque alone to follow their temporary guide, Ne Zha.

In the back of his mind, Wukong was surprised that Macaque had stuck with him this long. Maybe it was because he was distracted by other things but, no matter how much he thought about it he just couldn’t figure out why he was still there.

More upsettingly, Wukong couldn’t figure out why he was glad Macaque was there.

He wasn’t given much time to mull over his thoughts before the three of them came to a stop in a long hallway with countless doors on each wall. “Guest rooms,” Ne Zha had explained, gesturing to one of the doors. He didn’t need to say anything for Wukong to understand what was being implied, and suddenly Wukong’s heart jumped into his throat and he was feeling uncharacteristically nervous. What was he supposed to say? Did Ao Lie even want to see him?

Wukong wasn’t someone who was used to acknowledging his feelings at the best of times, but especially not in a scenario like this. Ne Zha had hung back, watching as Wukong approached the door, Macaque following close behind and Wukong briefly wondered if he could sense how much Wukong needed him here. As embarrassing of a thought as that was, Wukong had to admit he was glad someone was by his side, even if that person hated his guts. This feeling was only amplified as Wukong once again felt something brush against his tail. He looked back to see the tip of a black-furred appendage briefly hooking around his tail before pulling back, not willing to offer any more than that. Wukong looked at Macaque with wide eyes, only to find Macaque unsurprisingly averting his gaze and glaring at the door, most likely pointedly ignoring the warmth in his cheeks. Wukong gave a soft smile, recognizing the attempt at reassurance and if he had more time to think it over he would probably bring himself into a spiral over it but, that could wait, for now… Wukong took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock at the door, not letting the breath out even as there was a loud crash on the other side of the door as if someone had tripped and then panicked shuffling.

He still didn’t breathe when the door was flung open to reveal a slightly disheveled-looking being. One that was very, very familiar to him.

“Ne Zha! Did you find hi-” Their voice cut off as their eyes met Wukong’s and for a moment, everything was frozen. Or, Macaque would’ve thought that was the case if he hadn’t been able to hear Wukong’s heart picking up and the way his breath hitched after he finally let out the breath he was holding.

Macaque took the moment of stillness to examine Ao Lie’s appearance, though he didn’t necessarily need to, having recognized him from years ago when he had been tailing the group to find out how they were keeping Wukong tied down. He looked the same for the most part, though his hair was slightly tousled most likely from the fall he had taken when scrambling to the door.

The shadow monkey watched as Ao Lie’s lips parted to say something but he cut himself off when Wukong took a few shaky steps forward as if afraid any sudden movements would shatter this moment. Or, perhaps Wukong was afraid Ao Lie would try and kill him just like everyone else from his past has thus far.

Of course, Ao Lie didn’t attack Wukong and instead offered a kind, patient smile. The sight of which had a dopey grin growing on Wukong’s face before he pounced on Ao Lie and knocked both of them to the ground, knocking the breath out of the dragon. Wasting no more time Wukong almost instinctively nuzzled against Ao Lie’s cheek as he threaded his fingers through Ao Lie’s long hair, soothing a part of himself he hadn’t previously been aware needed soothing.

Standing back, Macaque watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, an ugly feeling rearing its head in his chest as he watched Wukong clumsily attempt to groom Ao Lie’s hair. Macaque didn’t even know if Wukong was aware he was doing it.

Recovering from the air being punched out of his lungs, laughter bubbled up in Ao Lie’s throat, and the melodic sound had Wukong’s tail swaying against the ground as he answers with a pleased chirp, not even noticing the tears that began to run down his cheeks.

They laugh together for a moment, just holding each other close and reassuring themselves that this moment was real before they calm down and spend a moment of silence just basking in the others presence before Ao Lie sighs, shattering the silence and prompting Wukong to raise his head from where he had buried it against Ao Lie’s shoulder. Ao Lie reached up to cup Wukong’s cheeks and Wukong almost instantly relaxed into the touch, purring contentedly as Ao Lie’s thumbs caress his cheeks, brushing away any stray tears as Ao Lie takes the moment to study Wukong’s face.

“You look different,” Ao Lie said softly, his voice almost a whisper as he ran his thumb over the edge of Wukong’s prominent eye bags. Wukong’s eyes flutter shut as he takes a moment to just bask in the touch before opening his eyes and meeting Ao Lie’s affectionate gaze.

A soft chuckle bubbles up from Wukong’s chest as he responds, “you don’t.”

“Heh… being trapped in time for…” Ao Lie grimaces, realizing he doesn’t actually know how long he had been trapped, “uh… however long, will do that to you.”

Wukong frowns at the reminder, placing his hand over Ao Lie’s and apologetically nuzzling into his palm.

“If I had known,” Wukong mumbles against Ao Lie’s skin, “I would’ve stopped at nothing to get you back.”

Smiling sadly, Ao Lie pressed their foreheads together, “I know.”

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krystinag11 · 3 months ago

Text

Once on the Batplane, Bruce watched as Jason's injuries slowly started to close up leaving silver scars in their place. Most of his external injuries were gone by the time they got to the bat cave.

Once at the bat cave Bruce rushed Jason to the medical Bay, Alfred quickly following. They ran as many tests as they could, Jason's heart rate was slow but steady and his temperature was hot but he didn't have any other signs of a fever. The other test would take time to process.

Bruce reluctantly stepped away from his son, he had some calls to make, one to Constantine and another to Dick. Dick may be out of contact right now but he could leave a message. Once the calls were made he quickly rushed back to his son To wait for Constantine's arrival, the man might be unpleasant and he might hate to admit it but he is good at what he does. Whatever had just transfired had definitely been magical in nature, soul strings do not change color.

By the time Constantine arrived all the tests had finished and Jason had woken up. Most things came back normal except for the blood test which showed traces of a substance similar to Lazarus water. Jason seemed fine other than being a little shaken up. When The Magician finally decided to grace them with his presence, he showing up in a bloom of golden smoke. He took one look at Jason and took a swig of whatever was in his flask and swearing profusely, before promptly lighting up a cigarette a despite the glare now direct full force at him.

"OK what the bloody hell happened to the boy wonder over there, why is he half dead?" There was a long pause after the warlock had spoken.

It was Jason who broke the silence "I'm fucking what?!?"

"You know Halfa, just a being who walks the line between life-and-death, The perfect balance of a human and a ghost. . . Bloody hell of course you wouldn't know they've been extinct for centuries, so how in the bloody hell does this happen?" The Sad Trench Coat Man rented, saring at Batman. Batman and Robin shared a look.

"There was an incident involving The Joker, Robin was nearly killed. His string had appeared and a couple seconds after suddenly turned a neon green, a ring of light appeared around Robin and inverted his colors, he stayed like that for about a minute before the ring reappeared and swapped his colors back. His injuries healing rapidly." The Bat stated.

"It's likely that whatever happened came from his soulmate side. Who is likely also a halfa, which means there are now two true halfa in the world which can only cause problems." The man pacing around the room before abruptly stopping and looking up at The Bat. "Lucky for you I have a book, I don't know the language it's in but it exists." With that the hellblazer said a quick incantation summoning the book to him and handed it over to the The Nightmare furry. "From the stories I have heard they are bloody powerful so the kid will likely start to get abilities at random. The first ones that will likely come in are invisibility, intangibility, flight and because of the kids' temperature something along the lines of fire. The rest are really up to chance. Oh and enhanced pretty much everything," the Brit says as he walks towards the portal that he had just opened. "Good luck, you'll need it."

They watched as The Sad Trench Coat Man leaves. Alfred walked up to Bruce, looking at over the book

"It is in Galwegian Gaelic, A dead language from Scotland, Sir." The family Butler stated grabbing the book form the stunned man and opening it. He begins to read, ignoring the questioning noises coming from his charges. Flipping the page to the one regarding halfas and beganing to read out loud translateing it to english as he went. "A true halfa is a being who walks the line between life-and-death at a perfect balance. They have two forms, one that appears human and another that appears as a ghost. A halfa is formed when an exponential amount of Ectoplasm is forced into the human body at the time of death. This most commonly occurs when a portal to The Infinite Realms opens up on top of a human being, As of such a halfa more ghostly form will appear as a colored swap version of what they looked like when they perished but this form will slowly change to better fit the halfa's personality, environment, characteristics, and titles, along with their powers. A halfa is constantly adapting to their environment because of this the possibilities for abilities the halfa may manifest is nearly endless.

As for a halfa's human form, very little will change about it. The scars of whatever had caused they demise will appear on their skin and will not fade. The scars and their eyes will occasionally glow in highly emotional situations. They will require more food, if not in The Infinite Realms and will require none at all if in The Realms. They also may experience slight cosmetic changes such as slightly pointed ears, glowing eyes, and sharper teeth. Most all of their senses will be enhanced

But because of their near endless powers a halfa can Wheeled, the were wiped out in fear of uprising by the Tyrant king of The Infinite Realms. Resulting in a very limited amount of information. The only way to truly end a halfa is by killing their moral and ghostly halves at the same time otherwise one half will simply heal the other." With that the Butler closed the book. "That is the end of the chapter about halfas. "Now then, I suggest you two head up to bed." Too tired to argue the two bats started the way up the stairs.

Dead on main soulmate prompt:

You and your soul die at the same time when you dead or are near death is the only time the the red string of fate is visible.

Bruce is holding his son as he takes his final death the string had appeared minutes ago. He's begging his son not to leave him to just hold on a little longer, begging the Red thread to leave and let his son live. He should have learned to be careful what he wished for as Jason's breath start to stutter more and more a surge of toxic green takes over the red of the string. Jason screams as his hair turns white.

527 notes · View notes

skyfallslayer · 3 years ago

Text

The Daughter of The (Dare)Devil - Story 3

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: A Series of stories revolving around the MCU timeline of Matt Murdock and his Daughter, Kaila. Being the child of a vigilante can be hard and scary at times, but it doesn’t mean she ain’t going to enjoy the most of it.

(Can be read as Y/N if you’d like)

Story Summary: While Foggy and Kaila make it a mission to find out what’s going on with Karen, Matt is dealing with a person from his past who dared disrespect his daughter in his own home (Set during S1E7, “Stick”).

Read the previous stories to get a better understanding.

Date: 5/24/22

Rating: Teen/Borderline of Mature

Word Count: 7,227

Warning: Hints of Foggy’s Crush on Karen; Changing POVs (?); Possible OOC; Mature Language; Angst/Lots of angst; Talks of Abandonment; Minor Blood; Brief talk of disability; Brief mention of sex; Fighting; Stick being a dick; Protective!Matt, who deserves his own warning; So should Foggy; READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

(Let me know if I missed anything)

A/N: This was an interesting (and sort of hard) one to write, but I really wanted to write about Stick and Matt; And some quality Uncle-Niece time between Kaila and Foggy. So hopefully I delivered okay 😄. And once again, I kind suck at writing fighting scenes so hopefully those are good too.

Also, Kudos to anyone who can figure out what 2015 Movie I'm hinting at.

Wilson Fisk has entered the ring, causing a stir inside the masked vigilante.

Between that, the run in with the police, and an accident resolving one of Nelson & Murdock’s clients (Which ended with Foggy in the hospital) things were getting tense with him, and surely these late night conversations he kept overhearing about it all wasn’t helping him either.

It was late in the office, everyone was doing a last bit of work before calling it a day. Kaila was sitting at the end of the office’s table, pretending to be occupied by something on her phone while the adults talked amongst themselves. She would occasionally spare a few glances at her dad since this talking hit close to home (And, oh boy, she could see the threads pulling apart with every word said).

“Devil, my shapely Irish ass.” Foggy said, staring at the front of today’s newspaper.

It showed off the face of a masked man dressed in black caught by surveillance cameras, and had bold lettering stretched across the top saying, ‘THE DEVIL OF HELL’S KITCHEN’. Kaila frowns, not exactly excited by the nickname that wasn’t self given by the vigilante. She just still wonders how he feels about it.

“Guy’s a coward.” Foggy continues, standing in the doorway. “Would I wouldn’t give for the chance to rip that corny mask off and…”

He struggles with the right words as Karen gave him a look.

“And what?” She asks, eyebrow slightly raised as she pauses her work.

“Punch him… in the face with my…” He almost cringed at himself when he held his hands up. “Fisticuffs.”

Kaila snorts.

If only you knew. She thought, ignoring the now strange -Almost betrayed- look Foggy was giving her.

Karen seemed to almost laugh, and shook her head, looking back at her notes. “I don’t know, he seems, uh… pretty fisticuffy.”

“Uh, yeah.” Kaila pushes in, hopefully maybe her comments will shut this down. “I’m with Miss Page, I mean have you seen this guy’s physique, Foggy?”

Foggy looks between the two, almost surprised (Almost). “Please tell me I don’t detect a hint of admiration for that terrorist.” He says, pointing to the news article.

Karen jolts up at that defensively. “This is all speculation. Nobody knows if he’s a terrorist or what.”

He nods. “You’re absolutely right. Terrorists have causes. They claim responsibility. They want to show the world that they’re assholes. This guy? Not a peep.” He says, spinning the baseball he snagged in his hands. “You know what they call that? Nut job.”

Karen frowns a little thinking. “Hmm… maybe.” She says, and notices her friend wincing after he threw the ball in the air. “How’s your side?”

“Downgraded to agony.” He replies, touching the spot.

“Alright, what do you think, Matt?”

Matt sucks in a small puff of air, and sarcastically says, “I think Foggy will be pitching for the Mets by mid-season.”

That got everyone to chuckle and smile. Kaila even went as far as rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

Still trying to dodge it, I see.

“I’m being serious.” Karen says, her smile still lingering.

Matt chuckles now. “So am I. Have you seen their bullpen?” He asks, grinning.

“Come on, you’re telling me this dickhead blowing up our backyard doesn’t piss you off?” Foggy asked, watching his friend stop reading and gather his thoughts.

“What happened to Hell’s Kitchen, to you and to Elena, and to all the people that were hurt…” He begins, sensing his daughter biting the inside of her cheek nervously. “Yeah, it pisses me off. But this man, whoever he is, whatever his motive, he shouldn’t be tried and convicted in the press. We’re lawyers, we know that’s not how it’s supposed to work.”

“So, uh, hypothetically–” Karen says, intrigued by his opinion. “If this guy got caught, needed counsel, Nelson and Murdock would offer to defend him?”

“Hell no.” Foggy immediately says, but Matt just shakes it off and continues with,

“It would be his right.”

“What about my right to punch him in the melon?” The other lawyer adds, a bit irritated. “They pulled a piece of glass out my side. Elena needed 12 stitches.” He scoffs. “And you want to Perry Mason the guy responsible?”

“I-I wanna make sure the right person pays for what happened.” Matt throws back, hoping this would end already (He hates lying like this for a long period of time).

“Well this whole thing’s moot.” Foggy gestures to open air with his hand. “After shooting those cops, police are probably looking to settle things the old-fashioned way if they catch up to him.”

Matt heard his child’s heart start pounding at that, and can only imagine how pale she must look right now, or whatever horrible thoughts plagued her mind.

He hated that.

His jaw clenched a little, fighting the urge to dig his fingernails into the table, before finishing with, “Yeah, it’s more than likely.”

God, why did he say that? He heard Kaila grip her phone tighter and swallow, her pulse still pounding slowly. He could practically feel the concern and genuine fear radiating off of her. It was like a knife to his bleeding heart.

“Well…” Foggy begins and faces the child. “What about you, Kai?”

Her name catches her off guard. “H-Huh?”

“What about you? I mean I get Karen because this guy did save her, but why you? How come you’re defending him?”

“Uh… well…” She sets the phone on her lap, mind racing for a good answer. “Um… I’m not necessarily defending him, I’m just going off facts, or really evidence here.”

“So you’re just going off of things you’ve seen or heard?” Karen asked, curious as well.

“Well…” Kaila shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah. I mean, I like to hear both sides of the story until I make a final decision. Even though there’s a possible chance this guy really did shoot those cops, I'm going off Karen’s story right now because I trust her enough to know she’s not lying.”

“Huh.” The blonde woman says, impressed.

“I guess that makes sense.” Foggy agrees. “But I’m still not backing down on my opinion.”

“And you don’t.” Kaila said, swiping her water bottle off the table, opening it up. “I’m just saying, I’m standing by what I know, and until new evidence comes to light that he’s… a baby eater or something, I’m still sticking with my opinion.”

She brings the water to her lips, whispering ‘Sorry’ that she knows her father heard because his eyebrows shot up for a millisecond.

Karen clears her throat. “Just a thought, but we may wanna go a bit peppier at the end of the day. Leave on a note slightly higher than deeply depressing.”

The three of them bow their heads in shame, but a split second later Foggy turns it around.

“She’s right. You’re bringing us down, Murdocks.” He said, getting a chuckle from the blonde.

“Excuse me?” Kaila scoffs, going along with it.

“Us?” Matt says in fake disbelief.

“I thought we were family, Uncle Foggy.”

Foggy snorts. “You wish.” He says with a wink. “Now-” He grabs his aluminum bat. “High note! Softball. When are we getting a company team together?”

“We have three employees.” Karen says, while finishing packing her stuff.

The young Murdock threw her hands up. “What? Do I not count?”

“At Least two of them aren’t blind.” Matt adds while fixing his shades, before roasting with, “Or that three of us are actually employed.”

She gasps silently, taken back. “Wow…”

“Naysayers, each and every one of you.” Foggy retorts, pointing between the three. “Karen, come on! Batting practice, you, me and Kai. What do you say?”

Karen’s posture changed. “Um… I…”

“Or not. Totally cool.”

“Hey, I thought you were taking me to the movies tonight?” Kaila asks, confusedly. It’s the reason she even tagged along with her dad to the office today instead of staying home waiting alone.

“No we are.” Foggy reassures. “I just thought we could hit a few balls before that.” He watches her scrunch up her nose, which makes him roll his eyes. “You know what-” He throws an empty plastic bottle at her legs, making her snort. “Stop being a teenager.”

“Ow.” She whines fakely. “I call child abuse.”

Kaila rubs the spot she was hit at as Foggy rolls his eyes.

“No, no, I would love to join the two of you, It’s just that I, um…” Karen stutters while sliding her jacket on. “I have this, uh, thing.”

“Well, go. Go do that thing. Not a problem.” He says, a sadness in his undertone.

“Okay, so um… See you tomorrow.”

“We’ll be here, ready to high note and stuff.”

“Good.” She flashes a quick smile and leaves.

Once the door was closed, He sighs heavily before imitating the sound of the bat against his forehead. His face held a line of defeat that Murdocks could see (or sense).

Matt nods his head, with a humorous smirk on his face. “Smooth.”

“Admittedly, I’m a work in progress.” Foggy admits, coming from the doorframe to the desk again. “Did you know she has mace on her keychain?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“You ever worry about her?” He slides his suit jacket back on after setting his bat down. “Worry like something she’s not telling us?”

Matt’s heart skipped a beat (and he picked up his daughter pretending to be preoccupied again). “Everyone has secrets, Foggy.”

“I don’t. I’d like some. Your kind… like with Hottie McBurner-Phone.” He said, grinning like a huge idiot as he sat down in a chair. “I mean, I assume she’s hot. Is she hot?”

Kaila visibly cringed. “Ew. Okay-” She stands up quickly, brushing by them. “I ain’t listening to this ‘boy talk’ or whatever. I’ll go grab the drinks out of the fridge.”

“Oh… how would I know?” Matt says loudly and flirtatiously, making his daughter groan in frustration.

He whispers an apology once she leaves, a bit of payback for her comment earlier, before Foggy sighs and shakes his head.

“This again. You always know!” Foggy replies, using his hands to emphasize his words. “I mean, you guys getting serious? Should I dust off the tux I’ll need to rent?”

Matt chuckles, a bit sadly. “No, uh… it didn’t work out.”

“Oh…” He frowns. “I’m… I’m sorry, man.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He takes a moment to pause, to listen. He heard his daughter putting the drinks in her bag, taking note of her movement. It was slow, almost sad. He’s had this conversation before, whether or not that she’ll be okay if he ever dated. She said she’s fine with it, Saying something along the lines of: ‘As long as you're happy and she treats you right, then I’m fine with it.’ Which she seems to be taking her statement to heart.

Matt sucks in a breath, needing a distraction disparately. “Hey, look, I’m gonna order in tonight, get a jump on this tenement case.”

“You sure?” Foggy asked.

“Yeah. I’ll be alright. Thanks, Buddy.”

“No problem.” He stands up. “Do you want me to bring Kai here or back at your place in the morning?”

“I’ll leave it up to her.”

“I’ll play it by ear.” Kaila announced upon returning. Her backpack slung over her shoulder casting a worried glance to her father. “You’ll be okay, Dad?”

“Yes.” He flashes her a quick smile. “I will be. Don’t worry about me.”

“Okay.” She skips over towards him, giving him a bear hug. “Love you, Dad. Don’t let those things bother you.”

She whispers that last part real quietly, tugging on his heart.

He smiles. “Love you too.” Matt says, kissing her forehead. “Have fun with Foggy.”

“I will. See you tomorrow.”

“Alright, K-Pop. Let’s go.” Foggy said, patting her on the back as she passed him. “Hey, Matt?”

“Yeah?” He said.

“Her loss, man. Seriously.”

That gets him to smile, which was good enough for his friend and daughter to leave knowing he was alright. But once they were gone, Matt flipped open his own set of work, his own little investigation involving whatever Wilson Fisk is in; All while his hatred for a man he hasn’t even met yet grew more and more.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

An hour, maybe more had passed, and Matt was found laying on the ground almost in a dead like state. He got tased by Fisk’s pawns, Leland Owlsley, after getting distracted by an eerily familiar noise. His mind raced because–

No.

Just no.

It couldn’t be him. Just…

Absolutely not.

He sensed the cane by his head, the disrespecting look penetrating his bruised skin.

No. It can’t be. He told himself, and prays to God that this is just a dream.

“You just gonna lie there all night?”

Matt felt his stomach tie into knots, his skin going cold. The hairs on the back of his neck stuck up too. “Stick.” His name was haunting for him to say.

“Are you gonna lie there all night or get up off your ass?” The older man asked again, making Matt want to take a stand. “Jesus kid–” He keeps egging. “I’m gone five minutes, you turn this place into a shit show.”

“You’ve been gone 20 years.” Matt says, sternly. His body stays stiff as he stares in Stick’s direction. “What are you doing back in my city?”

He almost scoffs at that. “Your city? Hell’s Kitchen hates your guts. They have you pegged as a cop killer and some kind of mad bomber.”

It took a lot of strength not to deflate on those words, but he managed. “Yeah, I’m taking care of it.”

“An old guy just lit you up. You ain’t taking care of shit.”

“Why are you here?”

“To save you, and everyone in the Kitchen from a horrible death.” Stick scoffs. “More or less.”

Matt tightens his jaw. This was the last person, thing, he wanted to deal with.

Well, Fuck.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Foggy’s mind was somewhere else, and Kaila knew him long enough to tell. She could tell he’s been distant while they took a few practice swings at the park, and on the walk to the theater. He always gets…

How should she put this?

Quiet. He always grows quieter. For being an extrovert, being silent isn’t something he’s known for, so when Foggy’s quiet there’s usually something up. Not to mention his brows will be pushed together constantly, his eyes going distant or towards the floor. His shoulders would sometimes tenses up a smidge too.

So yeah, something was up, and the young Murdock had a feeling she knew why. They were half way through the long line to the ticket counter, a curse they were given since going on opening night, which gave her a chance to express her concerns.

“You’re worried about Karen, aren’t you?” Kaila asked, knocking him out of his trance. He almost fell back by the shock that she knew what was on his mind.

“What gave you that idea?” He tries laughing it off, but her stoic face and a slight raise of her eyebrow shut his reaction down quickly. He frowns, eyes on the floor again. “Was I really that obvious?”

“Foggy I’ve known you since I was born. I know when something’s up. So what’s going on?” She replies, worriedly.

“I just… I feel like…” He groans, frustrated. “I don’t know. I feel like something’s wrong. It’s a… gut feel.”

“And this is with Karen, right?”

“Yeah. But-” He shakes his head, straightening up. “It doesn’t matter. This is movie night! I’m ready to see how this quadrilogy ends!”

Even though he sounded genuine, she could tell that the other feeling was eating away at him. She sighs, grabbing his bicep and pulling them both out of line.

“Hey, what are you doing? We were almost there.” Foggy asked, confused.

“Let’s go find Karen.” Kaila replies.

“What?”

“Let’s go find Karen, make sure she’s okay.” She watches her Uncle smile proudly, sadly, but still proudly. He was about to open his mouth to speak, but she pointed at him. “However, You owe me another movie night. Okay?”

He nods. “Okay. Okay! Yes! Of course! You’re the best, Kai. I promise to buy you all the candy you want next movie night.”

She smirks, mischievously. “I’m going to hold you to it then, Mr. Nelson.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt really wasn’t looking forward to this. But what other choice did he have? Or did he even have a choice? His old mentor walked in like he owned the place, checking it out, judging it right on the spot.

Stick sets his things down, including sliding off his glasses. He scoffs snobbishly. “What a shithole.” He says, setting the object down on the coffee table.

“You have any idea what I pay in rent?” Matt asked, clearly annoyed with his arms crossed.

“Expensive shithole.” He takes a whiff of the air. “You had a woman in here.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“When is she coming back?”

“Never.”

“Good.” Another whiff. Stick tilts his head at it. “I smell something else…”

“You got a warped perspective on the whole good/bad thing, you know that?” Matt replies, hoping that his skipped heart beat wasn’t heard. He knows what Stick was getting at, and desperately wants to steer him away.

Stick sighs heavily. “Women are a distraction. Just like–” He takes a small step to the right, sending a tiny kick to his table. “Furniture, apartments…” He perks up at another sensation, holding his hand out to ‘feel’ the air. “Whoa. Silk sheets.”

“Cotton feels like sandpaper on my skin.”

“You’d be better off sleeping on real sandpaper than surrounding yourself with all this bullshit–”

“This is my life and I made something of it, without you. That’s…” Matt places his hands on hips sternly. “That’s the part that really pisses you off, isn’t it?”

“No, Matty.” He shakes his head. “No, I’m proud of you, I really am. The things you’ve done, what you’ve made of yourself, but…” He gestures to the room with his arms. “This is… Surrounding yourself with soft stuff isn’t life, it’s death.”

Stick continues even when Matt starts pacing around him, “-Someday those silk sheets are gonna crawl up behind you, wrap themselves around your throat and choke you to death. You’re a warrior.”

Matt drops his head, whispering, “Yeah…” But then there's that spark again. “That’s not all I am.”

“A warrior, heir to the Spartans, Baddest of the bad-asses. They knew what they had to do and they did it.”

“And what was that?”

“Cut it loose. All of it. Cut yourself free… from the women, the comforts, the fancy job.”

Matt chuckles dryly, eye nearly twitching. “The job’s not that fancy.”

“Do you have friends? People you care about?”

“Yeah.” Three. He wanted to stay three, but he wanted to keep her especially out of this. “Two.”

Stick steps closer, almost like he was trying to be intimidating. “Then cut ‘em loose, for their sake. Break their hearts if you have to, just do it quickly.”

Matt shakes his head. “I’m not gonna do that.”

“Then they will suffer and you will die. Relationships are a luxury men like you and me can’t afford.”

“Is that why you left?” He asks, and Stick grows quiet. “Huh? To protect me?”

“I had my reasons.”

“I was a kid.”

“You still are. ‘Boo-Hoo. Stick left me. Think I’ll bury my sorrows between the legs of a supermodel’.”

“Don’t push it, Stick.”

“Or what? I’m trying to teach you how to stay alive. Christ, you’re worse than your old man. Born to lose Battlin’ Jack. At least your daddy got paid when he hit the floor.”

Matt immediately snags Stick’s collar as a warning, but the table’s turn when he finds himself trapped in an arm bar. Matt mentally curses at himself, fighting back memories of his childhood training.

Fuck.

Did he really let himself be beaten around like that?

He tightens his jaw, and gets himself out of trouble with a few, quick, maneuvers. He spins on his heels, hands up in case things escalate, however it never comes. Instead, Stick just chuckles in amusement

“Took you 20 years to learn how to get out of that one”

“Yeah, I’ve learned a lot since you’ve been gone.” Matt snaps back, voice on the edge of irritation.

“Like what?”

“You’re a dick.”

“That’s true. You got any beer?”

Matt laughs dryly.

Still hasn’t fucking changed. He thought, and gestures towards his kitchen. “Yeah, in the fridge.”

Stick starts heading for the small kitchen, standing almost proudly by his answer. “I’ll bet… It’s that German piss, isn’t it?” He asks, opening the door.

“So you gonna tell me why you’re here?” Matt asked as he takes a seat, his question sounded more like a demand (Why the fuck was he back after so many years away?). “Or is the suspense supposed to kill me?”

“You know, drinking all that soda is bad for your health.” Stick says, closing the door with his hip (Matt felt his heart skip a bear again). “And to answer your question, It’s the war, Matty.” He skillfully flicks the cap off the beer bottle, landing it in the trash can behind. “A never-ending war.”

He lets his palms squeeze together for a split second, holding himself together. “With who? You never got around to that part.”

“Now, the Japanese, mostly.”

“Look, I don’t want you tearing up Hell’s Kitchen going after the Yakuza.”

“Yakuza?” Stick chuckles, sitting down across from his protege. “You don’t know what’s going on in your own backguard. The guy that was yappin’ with that old man you slapped around, he’s pretty high up. He goes by a lot of names. Using Nobu this time around.”

Matt perks up at this new information. “So, Nobu, you want him so bad, why’d you let him get away back in the garage?”

Stick sighs. “I don’t want him. I want what’s on the ship he’s meeting at the docks tonight.”

“Right. Owlsley was talking about it. What’s Nobu bringing in? Drugs or something?”

“A weapon. They call it Black Sky, the bringer of shadows.”

“What kind of weapon?”

“The kind you don’t want in your world.”

Matt shakes his head, almost scoffing. “Just say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say you want my help.”

Stick copies his expression and movement. “I want you to help yourself. Nobu and his guys are in tight with Fisk. You hurt them, you hurt baldy–”

“You know about Fisk?”

A scoff. “I know a lot of shit. This beer, for example, sucks.”

“After all your talk about cutting friends loose–” Matt wanted to laugh in his face. “And now you need one.”

“I don’t need a friend. I need a soldier. Committed. Not some bleeding heart idealist hanging onto half measures.”

“You don’t know anything about what I’m doing here.”

“Kid, in war, people die. If it’s not you, it’s the guy next to you. How many men have you killed protecting this city?” Matt’s silence was enough for Stick to throw his hands up in disappointment. “You’re still afraid to cross that line. Someday, it’s gonna come down to you or the other guy. If it’s not Fisk, somebody else. What’re you gonna do then?”

“Yeah, a Russian asshole asked me the same thing recently…” He frowns, the memory still fresh in his mind. “Right before he died.”

“Are you the one that put him in the ground?”

Matt shakes his head. “No.”

“Half measures, Matty.” Stick ponders for a moment. “Ah, screw it.” He sets his beer down. “Ride with me tonight, help me destroy Black Sky, keep it off the streets, and I promise you this. Wilson Fisk will know the taste of fear the day he faces you ‘cause he’ll know that you kicked the guy he’s afraid of right in the nuts. Why do you say, kid?”

Matt ponders too, but still makes his point quick. “One rule. You don’t kill anybody.”

Stick sighs bitterly, raising his right hand, replying, “I swear I will not kill anybody.” Matt nods, it was good enough for him. “Pussy.”

Oh…

If only the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knew what was coming up next…

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It felt like hours since they’ve been looking for Karen. Foggy had a hunch that she went to Mrs. Cardenas, their law firm’s client; So that’s where they were heading. However it seemed like it was on the other side of town judging by the time that was flying by at a lightning rate (or had they been walking in circles?).

“Foggy?” Kaila begins, earning a hum as a reply. “Are you sure you don’t want to just call her at this point? Or at least hail a cab?”

“Cabs don’t come out this way this late at night, and I’ve already tried calling her. She’s not picking up.” He explains, hustling. “I even tried texting her too and she’s left those unread.”

She sighs, readjusting her backpack for the millionth time this walk. “Are you sure she’s not… you know, getting…. Laid?” His eyes snapped over towards her for a split second causing her to shrug. “I’m just saying. Maybe that’s why she was leaving in a hurry?”

“That’s a possibility, but I don’t think so.”

“Foggy, listen, she’s–”

He suddenly stops in his tracks, holding up his hand. “Be quiet.”

“What?”

“Shh.”

They listened closely, and soon enough they heard someone screaming muffly, followed by harsh whispers and more screams. The two of them paled and flashed each other a knowing glance.

“You stay behind me!” Foggy said, as the two of them broke off into a sprint.

It didn’t take the duo long to find two men surrounding Karen. They watched as she knocked one to the floor before the other one did the same thing to her. He was burning with rage, his shoulder tensed with steam coming out of his ears.

“Stupid bitch.” He cussed, which made them both start seeing red.

Foggy wasted no time to fish the baseball from his pocket, and chuck it at the guy’s head. His body dropped like a ton of bricks, face planting into the dirty sidewalk.

“Nice shot.” Kaila muttered with big brown eyes, as Foggy pushed her behind him some more and protectively held up his aluminum bat.

Karen pushed herself off the ground, the scared look in her blue orbs started to fade away upon seeing them. “F-Foggy? Kaila? Oh my god…” She stutters, and wobbles to her feet. She points at them with confusion. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Foggy asked, sounding just as confused as she was.

“What are you doing here?!”

“Are you following me?” She asked, exasperated.

He half shrugs. “Yeah.”

“Why?!”

“Because you were acting weird. I was worried about you! The both of us were.” He gestures to himself and the teenager, which makes Karen’s eyes widen more.

“You brought Kaila to one of the most dangerous parts of Hell’s Kitchen? At night?!” She scolds him in a way that reminds them of a parent-child argument.

The teenager looks surprised again, tilting her head. “Wait, there are more dangerous parts of Hell’s Kitchen?” Kaila asked, because that was news to her. “Since when?”

Foggy lowers the bat, almost guilty. “Well… I-I couldn’t just leave her alone!”

Karen sighs right as the man she struck down earlier starts to get. She immediately pepper sprays him in the eyes, causing him to cry out and curl into a ball.

The teenager’s eyes widened once more. “Oh damn…”

“I can take care of myself.” Karen said, pointing to what she just did.

“We can see that. Yes.”

“Okay, but let’s discuss that away from the maniacs. Please?” Foggy chimes in, waving her over. “Come on!”

Karen nods eagerly, cursing under her breath when she notices the other guy standing up. She starts hustling away, snagging Kaila by the under arm as Foggy hits the man again with his bat, sending him to the floor.

Again.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Saying Matt was pissed was beyond an understatement. This did not go as planned, or as promised it was supposed to be. He marched down his stairs, aggressively tossing the billy clubs at his ex-mentor’s feet. He listens as Stick picks them up, placing them on the coffee table; His aura was alarmingly calm.

“You promised me you weren’t going to kill anyone.” Matt says, taking his mask off.

“Yep.” Stick says, casually.

“Then what the hell was that back there?”

“The mission.”

“That’s what your war’s come to?” He asks while taking his gloves off. “Killing children?”

“That thing in the container was not a child.”

“I could hear his heartbeat. It was light and fast. He hadn’t even hit puberty.”

“You’re emotional.

“Yeah, no shit.”

“If you’d have focused beyond your crybaby feelings, you would’ve sensed what that kid really was.” Stick snaps, standing his ground.

“He was just a kid.” Matt replies, words haunting hitting all the right cords within him. I mean–

How could someone take a child’s life?

“You are as blind as you ever were.” The older man continues.

“Maybe you should’ve stuck around and finished training me yourself.” Matt quips back.

“I needed a soldier. You wanted a father.”

“Well, I guess we’re both disappointed then.”

“I guess we are.” Stick gets up with a grunt. He pats Matt’s shoulder before walking by. “You take care of yourself, Matty.”

Matt steps in front of him, defensively. “I’m not gonna let you kill that kid.”

“Oh, he’s already dead. I caught up with that van while you were dicking around with Nobu’s men.” He tilts his head. “But I guess you’ve been doing that all day.”

“What do you mean?”

Stick scoffs. “Come on, Matty, you don’t think I haven’t noticed those hitches in your breath? The sudden stiffness in your back when I walk around your home? Or how your heart skips ever so slightly whenever you lie? What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“Bullshit. You are. And something tells me it’s in this apartment.” Matt swallows. “Oh… why so pale, Matty? I could tell you lied when saying you only cared about two people, so who’s this third?”

“Stick.” He begins, warningly. “Don’t push it.”

“Or what?” Stick takes a big whiff of the air. “I thought I’d smelled something else earlier. I smelled you of course, and a woman, but I also smelled another woman, a woman who smells a lot like you. I thought it was because of sex but now I’m thinking you have someone related to you living here.”

Matt takes a dangerous step closer, jaw tightening. “Don’t.” He warns in a threatening tone.

Stick sighs, smacking his lips. “So my suspicions were right, but I didn’t want to believe it. Size 7 shoes by the front door, the sickenly sweet sodas in the fridge, a report card transferred in braille on the counter. Matty,–” He shakes his head. “Don’t tell me you have a kid?” He chuckles. “Or to make it worse, you have a daughter.”

That was enough to make him snap, blood boiling and emotions spilling over. Matt growled as he threw punch after punch, all being blocked by the older man, so he switched it up. He sends his black combat boot to land perfectly in Stick’s stomach, sending him into a wall.

“Whoa, Matty. Didn’t think you’d become that soft.” He chuckles. “And to snooped that low either-”

Matt growls as he throws one of his dining room chairs, colliding with his target before rushing in again. Soon they were pretty much eveningly match, punches flying and blocks catching them wherever they may go.

“Your mind’s cloudy, Matty. That’s why I told you to let go. Kids are a distraction too.” Stick says, provoking his pupil’s hidden emotions.

“Shut up!!” Matt yells, throwing another. Unfortunately he leaves himself open for a few strikes to the gut, including a kneeing which made him keel over in pain.

“You can’t even tag an old man!” Stick throws him into a wall face first, striking him several times in the back.

Matt hisses, and throws an elbow to Stick’s face, getting back into the game. He relies on some kicks, front ones and even a spinning kick, but his old mentor did have one thing right; His mind was clouded (but could you blame him?). He missed a landing, and stumbled into his desk spinning around when he heard his opponent coming after him. The lawyer throws his printer, giving enough time to go for yet another kick.

Stick went under it, and tackled Matt by the waist. The two of them grappled into his bedroom barn door, knocking it off the railing, splitting it nearly in half. Matt groans as he tries to get up on all four, but a hand smacks him across the face, sending him flat again.

“Now I can smell it. The hormones of a young girl. Cheap perfume. Fruity shampoo too. Pathetic.” Stick sneered. “I bet you worship the ground she walks on.”

“Stop it!!” Matt says, trying to do a leg sweep.

Stick jumps over it, snatching the back off his head and shirt collar, throwing him over his shoulder. Matt’s body made contact with the coffee table, destroying it under his bulky weight. He winced on impact, opening his mouth in a silence cry.

“Get up.” Stick says, sensing the younger man trying. When Matt’s back turned away, he sent a kick to it, his body flying and tipping over the couch. “Get up!” Another kick. “Get up!” And another. “Get up!! Get up you fucking softy!!”

Matt groans, blood dripping off the side of his mouth as he feels around the floor. His hands soon found a familiar weapon. He hopes to his feet, swinging the baton. Even though Stick catches it, it gives Matt enough time to get the upper hand. A few ducks here and there before he sent punch after punch to Stick’s face. He takes a step back, giving himself enough momentum for a sturdy spinning kick to the old man’s jaw.

And then another one, which made Stick stumble back, and Matt to go in with his hands again. One punch to the nose, another punch, and a roundhouse that sends his opponent to his stairs. Matt jumped up after, but soon found himself in the worse position possible—

The choke hold.

Gritting his teeth at some horrible flashbacks of his childhood training, Matt uses what he learned, rocking them both back before launching themselves into a front flip; Missing several steps and landing on the square bottom, shattering the wood.

Matt quickly gets up, sending a sloppy right hook to Stick’s temple, followed by yet another roundhouse and a spinning kick. He stayed in his best fighting stance as his old mentor laid on the ground, in a confused daze. Stick groans, blood caking his face as Matt starts sucking in some well deserved air.

The vigilante listened closely for a few seconds, waiting until he had a guarantee that this was over. When he does, he walks aggressively over, getting on one knee as he claws at Stick’s front collar. He pulls the old man up closer, rage still coursing through his veins.

“If you ever insult my daughter again, or you decide to ever come into my house a pay her a visit, or you ever decide to touch her, I will fucking kill you.” Matt spit out like venom, a poison he didn’t know he had in him. This was a parental feeling he didn’t know he had in him until now.

But what irritated him even more was that Stick laughed.

He laughed.

Laughed.

Matt tightens his grip, angry burning more. But before he could say anything else, Stick spoke.

“So that’s all it took?” He said, chuckling. “That’s all it took for you to even consider murder? By someone insulting your child?” He snickered. “You actually surprised me, Matty.”

Matt’s jaw tightened as he sent Stick to the floor again, getting up. He walks over to where the man’s trench coat was and bitterly throws it at him, not giving him any chance to react.

“Get out of my city.” Was all Matt said, hands curling back into fists just in case.

Stick grunts and pushes himself up to stand, holding his coat by his side. He sighs. “Maybe there is hope for you yet.” He laughs again. “But you have to get rid of that daughter of yours first if you want to get to your full potential.”

Matt’s blood boiled for the hundredth time tonight. "Not a chance."

Stick scoffs again. “Then I guess, Good luck then.” He slides his glasses on, smirking. “Nice catching up. Eh?” He turns to leave, Matt not even looking in his direction anymore. “You can keep the sticks. You’re gonna need ‘em. And think about what I said too. That kid’s a distraction. Just get rid of her if you want to be the best.”

So he disappears down the hallway and out the front door, his words lingering heavily in the air. Matt didn’t even wait until he knew he was out of earshot, he just yelled in frustration before flipping his living chair over.

“Fuck!!”

He feels his heart pounding in his ears, veins running hot.

“Fuck!”

He kicks the chair again, fingernails digging into his bruised palms.

“Fuck! Fuck.”

Why didn’t he see this coming? Why didn’t he expect his return? Just… why? And now Stick knew he had a kid, a dangerous-murderous man knew he had a kid, and he was expected to just let it go? Let her go? How–

He sighs, his anger starts to die off. “Fuck…” He whispers, gripping his hair as his legs start to wobble. His adrenaline was going, and his emotions were flowing heavily.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was just supposed to bury that past, leaving the tainted life behind. It wasn't supposed to touch his kid, his daughter, his…

Most precious thing in his life.

“Oh, fuck…” Matt collapsed to his knees, paying no heed to the rubble beneath them. “Oh, god… please, just… just n-no…”

He felt like he was going to cry, because why does bad shit keep happening to him? Why was God punishing him now?

“Damnit.”

He laughs in frustration.

“Just… why?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Kaila was shocked to say the least when Karen got done explaining. I mean–

Was she crazy?! And did she not learn after her father the man in the mask saved her from being killed after researching? Kaila was baffled, so baffled she couldn’t utter any words as they made their journey to the Bulletin Post’s office. She was being kept close between the two adults, Foggy still keeping a good grip on his bat, while Karen still had her finger on her mace (and they both seemed so calm while doing so).

“So this guy you’re working with can really help us?” Foggy asked, intrigued by his friend’s confession (he seemed to be handling the news more than the teenager was).

“Yes. Ben is an amazing guy, and really trustworthy.” Karen said, upon arriving at the entrance of the building. “Trust me, this is all going to be worth it in the end.”

The trio entered the building, taking the elevator to the appropriate floor. Wandering around the nearly empty floor until they arrived at an enclosed office space. The door swung open to an older man, dazzled in a collared shirt and tie. He seemed a bit annoyed about their appearance.

“What part of ‘Don’t tell anyone about this’ didn’t you understand?” He asked, eyes trailing to the blonde woman as they stumbled in.

“Foggy’s not just anyone, alright? He’s a kick-ass attorney, and sooner or later we’re gonna need one of those.” Karen explains, honestly. “And he just plain kicks ass.”

Foggy smiles. “When the need arises.”

“You can trust him, Ben. He’s one of the good ones.”

Ben looks skeptical, but eventually seems like he’s warming up until he sees Kaila. Shock and concern crossed his aged features.

“Why is there a child here?” He asked, looking directly at Karen.

“Um-” She stutters.

“Relax.” Foggy jumps in getting his attention. “She’s my law firm partner’s kid. You can trust her too.”

“I’m not worried about trusting her, I’m just…” Ben sighs, eyes going back to Karen. “Worried for her safety. I mean you know what we’re investigating.”

“It’s okay, sir. My dad and Foggy are known for taking… risks in their business. I’ll turn a blind if I have to, if it makes you feel better.” Kaila says, with a light smile for reassurance.

“She’s right.” Foggy said, nodding. “Me and Matt, her father, know the risks that come with this business. It’s okay.”

Ben looks between the three, a sinking feeling arising that he puts away. “Show him the board.” he replies, stepping out of their way.

“Alright, Ben has everything laid out… all of the, uh, possible connections, starting at the bottom and moving up.” Karen drags Foggy over to the cork board, filled with newspaper clippings and a playing card with a drawn on question mark at the very top.

Foggy furrows his brows, puzzled. “The king of diamonds?”

“The man at the top.” Ben clarifies.

“Any idea who he is?”

“No.”

“But I think he might have been the one behind Union Allied.” Karen says, sharing her theory.

“There’s another player on the field.” Ben says, picking up another card off his desk. “The Man in black.”

“You think he’s working for the king?” Foggy asked.

“No.” Karen says, defensively. “No, he never would have helped me expose Union Allied if he were.”

“If that’s the case, they're working against each other.” Ben pins the card at the top, a Jack of hearts with a black mask drawn over its head. “So the question is, which one trumps the other?”

As they talked more about it quietly, Kaila sat back watching everything unfold. She was worried, and a bit guilty because she knew the man in black personally, and knew he wasn’t working with Fisk. She had a sinking feeling that things were about to get a whole lot worse or just more complicated. Maybe even both.

Oh, dad. You’ve got a lot of things coming.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Once he had pulled himself (somewhat) together, Matt had started shifting through the rubble of his destroyed home. He could only imagine what his daughter’s going to think when she gets home tomorrow.

His troubling thoughts were interrupted when he came across something else from his childhood. He feels the twisted paper bracelet belonging to an old ice cream cone. It hits him like a truck. There was something sharp in his heart.

Matt took a moment to sit down, staring in disbelief. He felt like he was going to overflow again. All his emotions would spill out while wrapping itself in a whirl of confusion.

He sighs, closing his eyes and his head dropping. His mind went back to his kid now.

Things just got much more complicated now, Kai….

Taglist:

@stinkywhore @invinciblerikkai @glass-ghost

@your-not-invisible-to-me @ohtacosindrome

@mirkwoodshewolf @dreamscandys

@omniromanticbitch @987coley

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georgiapeach30513 · 3 years ago

Note

so we got the ari leaving aster 😔 but what about ari introducing the baby’s to her and her reaction 🥺 i feel like she’d be so upset as if he were replacing her or something

- 🍄

Aww goodness! You know Kitten was having some conversations with Aster to help soften the blow. But let's take a peak at when she finally meets them. Ran and Kitten decided to make it a small family vacation since they had to travel so far. *For the sake of this fic, Kitten is the reader insert, and Little Princess is just going to be called that or LP.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Love You Always

Summary: You and Ransom visit the Everett-Levinson's

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: fluff

Warnings: Sad Aster, soft!Ari, soft!Curtis, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.1K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Aster Drysdale Masterlist

"But, but, but are they small?" Aster demands your attention in the back of the car. Her little legs twitching around.

"Yes, little star, they're going to be very small. She did have three babies in her belly. Mama had two and you were tiny. And your daddy isn't quite as big of a man as Airy and CC."

Ransom pouts at this admission. His hands gripping tighter to the wheel, "I mean taller baby. Airy is a big man."

"What about Curtis?" you glare at him. Yours and Curtis relationship was such a short time frame, but he was forced to watch it unfold. "Hmm?"

"We're not talking about this. That was my past. You my dearest amazing and wonderful husband are my everything. Well and three kids that are the most precious beans I've ever in my life seen," he rolls his eyes grumbling something, and you swat at his arm, causing an ehh sound from Iris.

"Don't hurt my daddy!" she screams from the back causing Blade to jolt in his sleep.

"Yeah, Kitten, don't hurt her daddy."

"Tell daddy he better behave then or he's getting a spanking."

When you hear Ransom growl, you know that he didn't miss that, "That better be a promise, or it's you, that's getting a spanking."

Ignoring the comment all together you point at the house, "Oh there it is! Look at how cute the it is. Oh, Ran, I can't wait. Three babies to cuddle and snuggle with."

He points in the back looking at your most precious boy, "Oh, I haven't forgotten my Bladey either. Hims so perfect, too. Just like our angel and little star."

"Uncle Airy! I see him," her hands go to her buckles, carefully trying to get herself out of the carseat. "Uncle Airy! Come get me!"

"Azzie quiet," Iris whispers, her eyes looking at Blade who wakes up. Those eyes looking for his mama, and starting to cry when you're nowhere to be found.

Finally freeing herself from her confines her legs jump out of the SUV running to Ari who scoops her up. The two of them clinging onto one another, but with a crying toddler who wants his mama you can't pay attention. "You spoil him, Kitten."

"Oh, hush and get your other daughter out. She's sitting back there like a good girl just waiting," as soon as you pull Blade out of his seat, his cries almost nearly stop. "You're worse than your daddy. Ari, how are you?" you walk up to him giving him the biggest hug. "You look happy."

And he does. His lines have soften, still that sun kissed skin as before from working outside, still the carefree attitude. The difference now is there's the biggest smile planted on his face. He informs you that LP and Curtis are inside. Both holding onto the babies; Curtis with the twins, and LP won't even set Owin down.

"I understand. Something about a mama and her boys. Well go on. Show us your house."

"It's not quite as grand as the townhouse or the estate, but it's cozy. And I know I'm not the best judge, but the babies they're perfect."

"Who is biologically the father's?" Ransom asks. Not because he means to be ugly. You both knew how it was a concern for them to know for medical reasons.

"Owin is biologically mine. The twins are Curtis'. But all three are ours," he stops right before opening the door, "How's Frank? I heard he's got a baby."

"He's good. You should really talk to him yourself."

"He has to apologize first. I never once judged him for what he did as harshly as I should. And yet...no, this is supposed to be a happy day. Come on Azzie, I want you to meet my babies."

She gives him a quick pout, her nose curling up looking at him. "I thought I was your baby."

"You are, but you're still daddy's baby right?"

"Daddy's angel. Sometimes his star. Mostly mama's star."

He gives her a quick cheek kiss, "What about Steve? Aren't you his baby?"

"Not anymore. He's got that rotten thing that he keeps at his house now. Daddy let's me throw dirt at him," chuckling he takes her in the house. Such a calm and inviting homey feel that the three of them have made. So many people would want to judge them because they all freely love one another, but not you and Ransom. You see the love and care they have with each other. Not feeling jealousy or feel like they're being tugged in too many directions. Their relationship is one of the most functional ones you've ever seen. Including your own.

Seeing the big burly Curtis lay shirtless with those two tiny girls on his chest napping. His crystal eyes just staring at those tiny little babies. Randomly looking over to LP and even at Ari, complete contentment. Their wife just staring down at her little bear cub, you can't help but almost get tears in your eyes. "Oh Ari. They're so much cuter in person."

"Put me down. I wanna see these girls," Aster nearly tiptoes over to Curtis. Her little hand reaching forward to touch one, but quickly she jerks it away. "Is it okay for me to touch them?" Ari smiles and nods his head and she gently touches Evaluna. "Why is she so small?"

Their wife looks up at your daughter with the utmost kindness, "They had to fit in my belly, and their dad and daddy are such big men. They almost didn't fit as it was."

You can see the thoughts running wild through Aster's mind, contemplating some big thought as she tries to process what she wants to say or ask. Her deep blue Ransom eyes look up at Ari, and then back at the girls. When she looks back at Ari, her eyes are welled up with tears. "Does this mean you don't love me anymore?"

Ari grabs her up from the floor, his arms wrapping all the way around her, "No. Does your mom and dad love you less since Blade?" she shakes her head no. "With kids, it's like your heart gets bigger to accommodate all of them. And your good ole Uncle Airy is a big man, so I have a lot of room for my heart to grow okay?"

"Can I hold one?"

"Me, too!" Iris almost whisper shouts, finally coming out from behind Ransom.

"You two sit down, CC and I will help you hold one. Kitten, if LP will let you hold the boy, you guys could do a little trade off."

Blade looks at you, smiling but shakes his head, "No no," he whispers. That little bitty head laying on your shoulder. So you just sit close by. Tapping the couch to let Ransom join you as the two biggest beefy men that you've ever seen, so gently hold onto babies, placing them in your babies laps.

Aster still with tears in her eyes looks up at Ari, "You promise you still love me?"

"I promise with every part of me Azzie girl. I will love you always."

Masterlist

#desperate lives #desperate lives au #desperate verse #DA AU #DA AU ask #DA AU chat #🍄anon #ari levinson #ari levinson x aster drysdale

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moxfirefly · 4 years ago

Text

I have to thank @southernblossoms for this one, she got evil!Leo in my brain and he hasn’t left ever since.

TW: Violence, Gore, Blood, NSFW content below

Rated Explicit (18+ years)

“She said I'm looking like a bad man, smooth criminal

She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

She said that I don't look like me no more, no more

I said I'm just tired”

Leonardo always knew there was an inch inside of him that was darkness.

If left alone and unchecked, it would spread. Fester like some disease and he feared that someday he’d allow it to course through his body so freely.

And let it win.

It seemed today would be that unfortunate day. A night like any other, just more bloodshed than necessary. But hey, who said they should go and kill his father? Torture him to such an extent and string up his body for his brothers and him to find.

In that very moment that inch had grown in his soul to a degree that it blinded him. All he knew was to destroy, to hurt and erase those who had done this. He felt so cold, hands cupping his fathers motionless bloodied feet, the gentle tapping of blood and the cries of his brothers echoing in his ears.

So when Leo stood, bloodied (not bathed in his own), holding the head of the monster responsible, how could he regain peace? This had only brought a momentary second of reprieve and it was so fleeting. He looked into Shredder’s lifeless eyes, numbness spreading but a need that had started out as an inch. A need to kill everyone who had been part of this, directly or indirectly.

They all deserved so much worse.

They all deserved death.

Slow and torturous.

He had disappeared after that night. His brothers knew that this was the end of their leader, of their beloved brother who wanted to believe that good in this world could prevail.

For them they never imagined that Leo would just let the darkness take hold of him, nestle him with such a loving embrace. For him to embrace it right back felt justified, for his brothers it painted the gory picture of things to come.

They never expected to meet him in the opposition. To view him as foe and not family. Leonardo had quickly taken hold of the scum of the earth. He had molded the darkness to serve him.

Raphael thought Shredder was their worst enemy.

He never expected to have Leo claim that spot in a matter of months.

The Foot had fallen under his ruling, and he wasted no time in setting examples, and the bloody path those examples left behind never seized to churn the brothers stomachs.

There was no means of bringing him back, and perhaps it’s for the better.

Because whatever has eaten away inside of Leonardo cannot simply be flushed out of his body, nor ripped from his very soul. The body counts too high by now as he strays further and further away from what he was taught.

From what his father taught him...

_______________

You run with the unsavories. An eat or be eaten mentality that has caused you to survive years and years of gang wars and mutant freaks. Not like you’d throw about that last bit, much less when you’re standing single file, close to pissing yourself because he’s there.

And Christ he’s a sight to behold.

A rumor, a legend, a monster.

You tell him you’ve got valuable info, you know where to follow the trail that’ll lead to success. Even when your partner tries to push his chin up in front of Leonardo, you’re already wincing at what his demise will be shaped in.

Leo really loves cutting heads off.

A strong emphasis on loves.

You swallow, eyes flying anywhere but the rapidly growing puddle of blood that approaches your feet. Even then, your eyes stray towards the newest leader of the Foot, Leo punctures his katana into the head, a crude skewer as he lifts it and examines the severed body part as if answers lie in the gush of blood that falls. Those dark blue eyes move on you, you swallow.

He walks over to you, blade in hand, blood tap tapping onto the ground “Your information” Leo’s voice is weightless, bored almost. You motion towards your pocket, the crumpled up note with a poorly drawn map the key to your salvation. Leo reaches his hand in and you’re still, stiff and frightened by the intrusive touch and his proximity.

He pulls the note out and examines, the ghastly expression of horror on the decapitated head so close you can smell the coppery scent. “Can you get more of this? The coordinantes?” You crane your neck to look at him, his stature imposing. “Yeah, I’m your girl for that shit, swear on it” He flicks the blade and the sound of the head rolling makes your stomach flip flop along with it.

You feel the tip of a bloodied katana on your chin.

“Don’t make me cut off such a pretty head, hm?” You want to nod but the blade digs and Leo’s mouth twitches in something akin to a smirk. The small cut to your chin stings, but you wonder why other parts of you vibrate.

The danger, the adrenaline, Leonardo.

_____________

Your next meeting doesn’t quell your nervousness. Leonardo is an impressive sight as always and it’s imposible to ignore that maybe you won’t make it out alive every time you both meet. Unless proven useful, which you take to heart. You bring all sorts of information, names, rumors, possible gangs wanting to take him on, the police. Any word you heard in regards to him.

“It’s possible they might try to meet you half way, catch you off guard” The warehouse is chilly, that fall weather starting to hit but Leo’s unfazed, the black tails of his mask move with the gust of winds. “Stupid of them to assume that” The second floor of the warehouse seems to be his own, leaving the rest of the crew bellow. He sits on the windowsill, cloth running up his katana, it had been bloody when you were brought in.

“I’m just repeating what I heard, I’m sure you’re more than adept to take them on” You stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket, you’d been frisked not like you were stupid enough to bring a weapon to this.

But then again, the more he polished that sword, the more you wished you had something.

“What else have you heard? Any word on Karai?” The woman in question had appeared to have disappeared into thin air after Shredder’s death and Leo taking command of the Foot soldiers. Wether she planned to reclaim what was hers or if she had simply quit was beyond you and anybody else. “Nothing on her, she might’ve skipped town or the country” You offered, eyes following the sword as Leo placed it on a nearby table.

“She strike you as the type? A coward?” He walked over towards you, his expression so eerily unreadable.

Yet, your eyes wandered over him. Over muscle and scales. Overs scars and bruises. That illogical part of your brain making you wonder and fantasize, because fear could be exciting.

There was something exciting about Leonardo.

“Well?” He was in front of you, looking down at you. It hits you how minuscule you must look to him.

“Probably plotting? You did murder her dad” You find his eyes, you swallow.

“Well he murdered mine. Eye for an eye...” He spoke gently almost.

“Makes the whole world go blind” You finished for him, and maybe that was stepping on a line but you noticed the corner of his mouth twitch up. For a brief second you catch his eyes scan yours, move across your face and settle at your lips.

Passed your neck, towards your breasts.

He turns around and grabs his sword.

“One week, find more info on her, your pay is downstairs” You’re dismissed and before you process anything a Foot soldier is ushering you downstairs and shoving an envelope in your hands.

That night you dream about what your lips might feel like against reptilian scales.

—————————

Karai’s whereabouts are practically unheard off. If there was a trail it had run cold months back and judging from the word of mouth being passed around there wasn’t anything sustainable. You dig up anything and everybody. Every dirt bag with an agenda, ex Foot soldiers, opposing gangs, the mob and just about anybody you have in your radar.

It yields nothing.

You can’t return to Leo with nothing.

Rubbing a hand across your tired face, you make your way through the back alleys of the city. Your one week was coming up and all you had were weak possibilities and baseless assumptions. In your line of business enough information to create doubt can go a long way, but this was conspiracy levels bad.

So you thought and you thought quick.

Pulling out your phone you called him first. Perhaps a dumb move but at the same time you figured it showed that you were trying. You asked if the two of you could meet, the line briefly went quiet before your text tone startled you. He hung up and you were met with the address of a building in Brooklyn and to go up to the roof.

To say you were scared was to put it lightly.

You were shitting yourself.

The roof of the building had a green house which seemed unused but it looked like it was being kept up with the vegetation still green and alive. Your hand made for the door knob but something you could only name as a sixth sense made you freeze.

Leo was there, the shift in the atmosphere was impossible to deny. Your turned and blinked.

Wherever he had been, it must’ve been worse. There was blood on him, a fresh gash by his arm and the steady drip drip of blood hitting the concrete. “Jesus are you...?” You knew he was ok, but whomever had been on the receiving end of this had it by far much worse.

“Inside, go inside” He motioned for the green house and you did. Your eyes scanned around hoping to find something to help with. There was a nest of sorts in a corner, several blankets and cushions, a table and a chair amidst the plants. You found what you were looking for near the bonsais, a shelf with a box of first aid. Leo went towards a counter with a basin and a jar of water, he went about cleaning the gash on his arm.

You approached him with the box of first aid, blue eyes were cautious as you took out antiseptic and gauze. Leo had turned to face you, giving you more room to work on his arm as you bandaged it. “You alright?” Your voice held hesitation, Leo’s questioning gaze turned to amusement. “I’m fine, what I want to know is why you wanted to meet” You finished bandaging him and took a step back.

Pick your words wisely, you thought with a slight shutter.

“Listen I’ve spoken with any and everyone who might have any clue but Karai is off the radar”Swallowing a lump in your throat you shrugged off your jacket, worry manifesting in heat. “I know this isn’t what you wanted and I’m really fucking good at my job but this bitch is either underground or who knows! Dead for all I know!” The exasperation and worry was clear as day, he either took this the right way or the wrong way.

Wrong way being you end up pushed off this very building, at best ironically enough.

Leo swallowed the information, clearly bouncing it around his head. The dry specks of blood scattered across his green flesh. An odd silence fell amongst you both and even when he rose in all his imposing glory you kept your eyes focused on him. Getting a read on that cold calculated gaze of his was hard enough.

Your throat feels painfully dry once he has you backed up against the wall. Something about dying alone with not even an audience to witness it didn’t sit too right with you.

But then again, Leo’s large hand gripped your neck, nothing too tight but enough to alert you to its presence. Those blue eyes looked haunted but just beneath that laid something you couldn’t just place your finger on. The tips of his fingers lightly caressed you, one of them fascinated with your quickened pulse. You can’t blink, unsure what may happen and when he dips down your adrenaline makes you flinch.

Leo halts his movement, his blood feels like it’s pumping loudly enough for you to hear. Wide eyed you lean up instead and ghost your lips against his, Leo sighs through his nostrils and it stays that way. A pull but not enough of a push because there’s still fear in your blood and a hesitation that you can’t put a name to from Leonardo.

Your phone going off startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin and to a fraction of your dismay Leo takes a step away. One of your contacts name flashed on the screen which meant there could still be some good news. Your turned away to speak, pulling a marker from your pocket you write down some information on your forearm. It’s a quick conversation and once done you turn to see Leo putting together his gear again.

You bit your lip, whatever was about to happen would just have to take a back seat. ‘Fucking coward’ you can’t help but think about yourself.

“One of my guys says he might have it on good authority that Karai is still here” You watch him turn his head to listen, even if he’s got his back/shell to you. “Well?” He pushes while adjusting his swords.

“He says she might’ve just met up with...with one of your brothers” Tense doesn’t even begin to explain what his body did, the mear mention of his family was a sore subject and you had been warned to not even attempt to open that can of worms. Swallowing and feeling your throat stick from how dry it felt you see him pull out a key and toss it to you. “Send me that address, you’ll get your money at the warehouse” You barely manage to catch the key to the greenhouse, but still you raise a brow at the offering.

“Come back here when you’re ready” Is all he says about it, confusion is painted on your face but when he moved to leave he takes a moment to hold your chin. “Don’t make me regret this” He says and before you can attempt to ask he’s gone.

You stay there, twenty minutes or so in nothing but your thoughts and his words swimming around your mind.

Feeling heat between your legs and a lick of frustration consuming you.

_____________

Two weeks you contemplate the key in your pocket.

Two weeks you let your thumb hover over his number but never press down.

For two weeks you find your pillow between your legs, trying to reach the sensation he managed with just his body close to yours.

But nothing.

It’s not enough.

New York is covered in rain as you make your way through the sea of people. Regardless of the many umbrellas you still get soaked and by the time you’re up on that roof, hand digging out the key to the green house you’re drenched.

Inside you shake off the excess and remove your jacket. The cold hits you and you can’t help but feel silly that you’re here, maybe this is his way of taking you out, you’re not needed anymore by now you assume.

You turn on the few lanterns that are scattered through the room. Kicking off your boots you rub your arms and shiver, flesh breaking out into goosebumps as the door creaks open once more.

Leo’s equally drenched when he steps through, the black tails of his mask sticking to him. The two of you just stare at one another, steady drips of water and the rain outside picking up more strengh.

Carefully you watch him begin take apart his gear, leaving his katanas by the door. He’s trying to keep your apprehension at low levels, his steps slow and soft. You let your arms fall to your sides and as your heart tries to hammer out of your chest you don’t flinch this time, even as his hands go for the hem of your long sleeve. You take a deep breath as his eyes wander across your now exposed flesh. The fascination goes straight to your core, feeling yourself warm up as his hands rest on your stomach.

With trembling hands you unbutton your jeans and step out of them and the inhale Leo takes as he closes his eyes makes you reach for him. He holds you against him and sighs, large frame shuddering at the feel of your skin against his reptilian one. He buries his snout against your neck, breathing harder as his hands run all over your back and rear. Leo grips and kneads the flesh and a groan escapes against your ear that makes your wrap your arms around his neck. He feels the softness of your breasts against his chest, he’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t been dreaming about them for months now.

You can’t wrap your head around it but he feels just as you fantasized about him. The roughness of his flesh, the edges of his shell and god his teeth nip at your neck with a growl. Wiggling out of his hold you start to undo whatever else needs to be taken off and Leo can’t help but smirk at your frenzied movements. He allows you to undress him, he’s gutted when your hands land on his waist as you start to kneel before him.

“No, no, kiss me first” He cups your face and presses his mouth against yours and that’s it, you’re done for, you’re hooked and can’t go back now. His kiss is possessive, forceful and it drowns every thought in your brain.

You pressed against one of the tables with the many Bonsais when Leo’a tongue slithers into your awaiting mouth. He sits you down on the table and nudges your legs apart to fit himself in between them, you crane your neck up losing yourself in his kiss. He can taste rain water, feels the sweat and rain mingle on your skin. God he wants to run his tongue all over you, eat you whole if he could.

It feels like forever when he pulls away, reluctance in his body. Blue eyes search into your e/c eyes, he wants to see something maybe your fear so he denies himself falling into this rabbit hole. Your hands press against his plastron and gently you run your nails down the hard plates, you shake your head fascinated by the texture. He’s rough but strong, a marvel of a species.

With some difficulty you managed to push your underwear off and spread yourself again for his viewing pleasure. “I want you,” You nodded, eyes falling to the hard length between his legs. Leo wraps a large hand around it and pumps slowly, body shivering at the sensation. “God I fucking want you so bad” You feel him come back to you, mouth on yours in yet another harsh kiss.

The tip of his cock nudges against your wet heat and he bites your lip at the sensation. Leo pushes into you so frustratingly slow, even as his girth stretches you to a point you’ve never been before. You want him inside of you now, and Leo couldn’t agree more. He bottoms out inside of you with a lengthy groan, head thrown back in ecstasy. “You feel... so fucking good” He growls out through gritted teeth, hips picking up speed as you wantonly take him in. You press your lips to his chest and moan with each slow but pronounced thrust of his hips.

His hand finds itself at the back of your head, grabbing fistfuls of your hair to keep your gaze on his. The slight tug burns so good and you can’t help but keep your pleasure filled gaze on his own. Lips parted you let him rock into you steadily until his thrust start to slam into you. The sensation spreads all over your body, little shocks of pleasure rocking your body.

“Mine, you’re going to be mine and only mine” He voices lowly, a threat laced in his passion. You’re too far gone to speak, nodding aimlessly at his every word, moans falling from your lips. “Nobody will own you like I do, nobody will touch you, Y/N? You understand? I’m making you mine” He pressed his forehead to yours, lost in this feeling.

“Fuck yes, yours, I’m gonna be all yours” You lick his lips and when he reaches a hand between both your bodies your mind goes blank. A vicious shudder overtakes you as you muffle a scream against his jaw. He fills you up so good and so warm with a strange vibration that sounds like an endless growl. Each rope he pumps into you making his eyes roll back. You’re shattered against, limp and raw throat from the scream that leaves your mouth.

He watches your come down, hand against your cheek, thumb running across your lips. When he pulls out just enough to watch his essence cascade out of your pretty little hole, he pumps himself back into you. His eyes say it all, from here on out whatever your life was up to this point is over and done with. Leo nuzzles you still lazily pumping himself in you, blissful to the little tremors your cunt produces around his member making him harden once again. Picking you up, bodies still joined, he makes his way to the nest of blankets on the floor.

You hold onto him, all you can do is hold onto him.

____________

It’s rather odd to be in this position. With an entire year that’s passed it never seems to feel normal, not that you’re complaining though.

Being in a position of power by proxy has its fucking fun rewards.

For example nobody in this city will ever contemplate taking you out. Unless they want a very pissed off Foot Leader to set fire to the city and maybe even the world. From opposite points to now standing at his side. No one is to address you as below them, or touch you or let alone breath the same air you do.

You can still hear the bones that were cracked when one particularly unruly Foot soldier made snide comment about you. Each crack of the mans arm being slowly twisted until his arm broke still rang in your ears to this day. Leo hadn’t flinched, hadn’t even scowled even as the twist turned to pulling the limb off.

He did in fact fuck you hard against the glass windows of the hotel suite he had you both in. The copper scent lingering on his scales, but enraptured with the heat enveloping his cock.

With the city at war everyone had began to run amok to do their own barbaric things. Each part of the city divided between gangs, mobs, mutants, police and civilians. You were out on active Foot duties, you were still free to do as you pleased but with protection and Leo demanded your whereabouts on the hour due to possibilities of abduction.

He knew you were a weakness.

But did he give a shit? Of course not. Let them try, he hasn’t needed an excuse for his tyrannical acts thus far, but if harm did ever befall you, you only wished you could witness what his methods would be to exact his revenge.

And he was so familiar with revenge after all.

You admire yourself in the full length mirror, examining the body that training under Leo has provided you. The mutant terrapin in question comes up from behind you and wraps his strong sculpted arms around your waist. You can’t help but smirk as he rest his chin a top your head. “We’re heading out in half an hour” He mumbles against your hair, enjoying the scent. You watch through the mirror as his hands rub up and cup your breast, with a sigh you rest against his strong build. “What’s on the agenda tonight? Purple dragons?” You feel him shake his head, fingers dipping inside the cups of your bra. “Mob,” Is his sole reply.

You bite your lip, gripping his wrists. “We’ll be late” You try to muffle a moan as he tweaks a nipple, he grinds against your backside. “I’m killing them regardless, and I much rather have the scent of your cunt on my hands while I listen to their boring excuses for parley” Your knees buckled when you felt his hand slither inside your underwear, finger already parting your lips and humming as he feels how wet you already are.

You feel his other hand wrap around your neck, keeping you upright and your gaze on the mirror as his finger dips into your welcoming heat.

He engulfs your every thought, every sensation; and what’s the fate of the world when you’ve got him? He chose you just as much as you chose him. You’ve never considered yourself good, scumbag street rat who just happened to make a living amongst the other scumbags. But this? With Leonardo and the trail of bloodied heads he’s left behind, it’s hard not to be excited to see gasoline be poured on the city. He trails his lips to the shell of your ear and you can’t help but grin.

“Mine” He says.

Burn everything.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt Leonardo x fem reader #leonardo #Leo #leonardo x reader #leo x reader #leonardo tmnt #leo tmnt #ns*w #oneshot #evil!Leo #dark!Leo

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ta0ken · 3 years ago

Text

LITTERA SCRIPTA MANET (the written letter lasts)

❝𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮❞ — atticus.

have you ever felt what it was like to dream? to even vividly remember the dream? how does it feel; does it feel nice? you wonder and wonder, but the dreams are always there (only with a few changes). you're only reliving a dream.

in books, freedom →

TAPPING RESOUNDED THROUGHOUT THE ROOM, yet there's a silence that fills the room you sat in as well. It's noisy, yet it's not. It's quiet, yet it's not. It's contradictory, in your opinion, as you leaned onto your chin, resting it on your fist. You hummed, unsure of what would happen. A small huff left your lips, blowing out strands from your hair, continuously bothering you from your work (though, you weren't really working).

Your pen scattered dots all around your lined paper, yet nothing was written on it. "This isn't some connect the dots game..." you softly sighed to yourself, raising a brow at the paper, disappointed and obviously unamused.

Glancing out the window, you stared, watching the sun rays light up your dim-lit room. You closed your eyes, reminiscing the times you were in high school (were you?), not really having any friends, only focusing on smarts and academics, though you weren't weak.

Too bad you had gotten into too many fights that caused your school record to drop at the lowest of low.

The dreams you've had were weird. You, at first, thought that you had grown older, done different things, lived a different life, but all of those were dreams; lucid, but merely dreams (but they only occurred two times, so, perhaps they don't count). Your eyes scanned the dots once more, still unimpressed with what you've gotten. Head drooping down, you let out another sigh, one full of frustration and exhaustion - you wouldn't be able to write a poem at any rate, would you?

"Oh, how this wounds me," you said to yourself. "Woe is me, woe is me... I guess."

Leaning back in your seat, you stared at your ceiling, blinking. The ceiling remained the same, nothing had changed. Maybe, I can just write about dreams or something... Gah! I hate this... You sulked and sulked and sulked, but nothing would change the fact that you couldn't write anything—

Ah. Now you know why. Someone had been murdered, you remembered. Not someone you knew, but for some reason, you felt like you recognized the person who had murdered the random nobody. Still, you weren't sure, and it didn't matter.

"...Weird," you muttered, balancing a pen between your lips and nose. "Really weird."

You closed your eyes, letting out a soft sigh, slowly sinking into your seat without a care. You felt tired, and you didn’t want to do any more work, though you weren’t doing any work anyway.

“Oi, [Name]!”

Your eyes open, and you blink. Slowly taking the pen between your lips and nose, you stare at the ceiling that shouldn’t have changed, yet it did. You slowly lower your head, still blinking, and looked at the person in front of you that had long hair, yellow eyes, and sharp teeth (though, that was his original appearance; the one you weren’t used to seeing).

”…Baji,” you acknowledge, expression forming into one of boredom. “What do you need, more tutor lessons?”

He gives you a scowl, before grinning, jutting his thumb behind him, exclaiming, “Nah, I wanted to hang out with ya. Me, you, and the others!”

A grim expression replaces your bored one, and you wave your hand in the air, other hand in your pocket. Leaning back into your seat, you twirl the pen in your hands, and you simply tell him, “No.” You didn’t want to hang out; there was no need to. “We’re not friends, Baji; I’m only your tutor, or whatever.” You ignore the feeling that this wasn’t a dream (but you wished it was).

The boy lets out a breath, crossing his arms. “Man… You’re a guy, ya know that?”

”I… I’d hope I’m a guy—“

”That’s not what I meant!” he barks. He turns his head, a frown appearing on his face. Upon your expression, he frowns even more. “Listen, I’m only asking you anyway because of you helping me out with school and shit.”

Your hand twitches and your brow furrows, a crease forming. This scene feels like it’s repeating, going on and on and on and on—why? You didn’t realize you were staring at him, until he waves a hand in your face, obviously impatient. “…Uh,” you blink, “sorry—No, I don’t… want to go.”

A small huff.

You only shrug in response, slowly getting up from your seat. You glance down at the floor, noticing your bag beside the leg of the chair. Why? You stare at it with narrowed eyes, distressed, but you hid it; the boy before you didn’t need to know what was happening, anyway. Grabbing your bag, you slung it across your shoulder, sparing Baji a glance. “…Why are you still here?” you ask, raising a brow, “Don’t you have your gang to go to?”

“Anyway, I’m going home. Bye,” you mutter, shuffling past the long-haired boy.

✎______

“You’re very selfish, Baji.”

”Huh? And you’re acting like you’re not?”

You rest your chin on your hand, lips in a thin line. You were with Baji and Chifuyu, who was technically his underclassmen, but he got held back a lot of times. You cock your head to the side, slowly gazing over towards the blonde, “How d’you manage to hang out with him? He’s a brute.”

”The hell did you say?!” Baji’s hand slams down onto the table booth you all sat at, glaring at you. “I’m no brute!”

You give him a blank stare. “…I can assume that your ma said you were a ‘handsome fellow’ or somethin’?”

Chifuyu coughs at that, hiding his snort. “C’mon, [Name], do you really think a guy like him is handsome?” He has a grin on his face, leaning back into his own seat, amused by the bickering (or maybe exhausted, who knows?).

You raise a brow, glancing over at Baji, who was fuming. Rubbing your chin, you hum in thought. “He’s pretty…” you say, trailing off, ignoring the suspicious look from Chifuyu and the arrogant look from Baji, and continued, “…for a girl.”

”Wh- I’M NOT A GIRL!”

”PFFFT—“

You grin, amused. Leaning back into your seat, you look back up to the ceiling, the grin dropping slowly. As fun as it was, can this dream end? Your hand raised up towards your face, pinching it as hard as you could, but it only left a mark.

It left a mark.

You lower your head once more, eyes staring at the wooden table that seemed too polished for its own good, the light showing your reflection. You were back in your 15-year-old body, still in middle school, though it made no sense. Shifting, your eyes darted towards the other two, one older, one younger, and they seemed the same from middle school; laughing, smiling, joking around.

Your hand clenches, gripping your uniform pants.

”…Am I dreaming?” you whisper to yourself, “Is this nothing but a mere illusion, to hinder my dob- doubts—? Fuck.”

“Did you stumble over your words again, [Name]?” Baji teases, leaning over towards you.

Your face flushes red, and you narrow your eyes at him. “No,” you say indignantly, “I did nuh- not. I did, not.”

”But, you did, just now,” Chifuyu points out. “Right, Baji-san? He just stumbled over his words?”

”…I said—“

”No, yeah, he did.”

”I SAID I FUCKING DIDN’T—“

✎______ [Name] occasionally stumbles over his words, despite knowing so many. And he ends up getting mad over it.

You rest your head on the table, grumbling profanities. Despite being smart, despite all of this, you were still foul-mouthed, and you were still a ‘child.’ You muffle out a small, “One day, I’ll kill the both of you, just you wait.”

Baji lets out a snort, patting your back harshly, “Sure you will.”

“I will.”

Chifuyu nods sarcastically, finished with his noodles. “Yes, of course, you will.”

You roll your eyes, muttering, “Well, fuck you guys, too.” You glance over at the pair, before you looked away, not wanting to deal with them. But, you continued to pinch your arm, not caring about the pain, for you just wanted to go back to your regular life.

"Hey."

I want to go back. Let me be a poet, once more, you sigh wistfully, leaning onto your fist, zoning out. I need to be a poet, once more; I graduated, did I not? I did, I did, so then why, why can't I wake up?

"[Name]."

This is all a dream.

"[Name], wake up!"

You blink, eyes wide. Turning your head towards the pair, you stare for a few seconds, before blinking once more. "...Sorry, what?" you say with a smile, ignoring the aching pain in your arm now, "Did you need something? Or were you guys planning on bothering me again."

Chifuyu narrows his eyes at you, suspicious of how you were acting. "...No, you were just pinching your arm really hard and not saying anything about it," he remarks, crossing his arms. "Are you some sort of masochist?"

Baji raises a brow, checking you out as he leans forward, "...I wouldn't put it past him to be a masochist. He gives off that sort of vibe, you know?"

"Oi, what's that s'posed to mean?" you scowl, pushing yourself away from the two. "I'm no fuck—I'm not a masochist." Despite you saying all of that, Baji only laughs, hand ruffling your hair.

"...I hate you all."

"Sure you do."

✎______

You weren't sure if you had this feeling that you were going to insane or if you were lucid dreaming (it was probably both), but it was slowly getting to you. Each step felt like it was pulling you towards the ground, keeping you there from moving on, from trying to back to the present (or was it future?). But was it even the present if you're you now?

It didn't occur to you, that you were back in the past. Every dream, every time you close your eyes, every time you open your eyes, there's a new view.

But there were no views this time, as you stared, blankly wandering around on your own. Baji left to do his own thing, as did Chifuyu. You weren't sure what they were doing, but you didn't want to get involved with gang fights anyway.

Instead, you chose to go back to the store nearby your old apartment (well, technically, your current one, huh?). You haven't met the rest of the Toman members except for the 'Founding Members', but even then, you didn't want to join. They weren't your friends (well, in the past, you didn't consider them friends, but they probably considered you a friend), and you didn't want to be their friend.

Well, maybe you did.

It gets lonely, anyway. Having to repeat life over and over again, without knowing who's the cause (once you find out who's causing it, though...).

You look at the cashier, hands in your pockets as you slump over, eyes drooping due to exhaustion. You could feel yourself beginning to tire throughout the day, yet it was only the afternoon still, almost evening.

"Can I have one pack of cigarettes?"

✎______

You lean back against the wall, looking off into the distance, sighing. You had the pack of cigarettes in your hand, glancing around the area, putting a cancer stick in your mouth, letting it hang off from between your lips. Tilting your head, you let out a huff. You were only 15-years-old, yet you were originally 26-years-old at the start (or was it at the original? You weren't sure, too many things ran through your head, really).

Drip.

Ignoring the dripping sounds that slowly grew into pitter-patter, you didn't bother to light the cigarette, simply satisfied with the feeling of it on your lips. A small sigh was drawn out, your eyes gazing at the droplets of rain that splattered on the cement, sometimes getting onto your boots.

Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip—

Rubbing the back of your head, you glanced away, pushing yourself away from the wall. You begin to walk, not caring about the rain that made you damp, your hair flattening on your head. Ignoring it, you clench and unclench your fists, trying to still wake yourself up from this dream that seemed all too real (you wish you could wake up, but you never will).

You look up at the rain, humming, sometimes squinting due to the droplets hitting you straight in the eye. Your face twitches, but you shrug your shoulders.

"Rain's a bad sign, ain't it? Especially if it's heavy like this..." you say to yourself, walking on the sidewalk. "August 3rd... Huh. The day of the festival... Hm."

You close your eyes, shrugging once again.

Looking up at the rain once more, you say to yourself quietly, voice barely near a whisper, "...Is this a dream that I can wake up from, or is this a dream that I'm stuck in forever? Hm... I wonder..." you look back towards the road, "...if the world just hates me after all."

A small laugh left your lips.

"Yeah. The world hates me, for sure."

#tokyorev x reader #male reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #yuureoo

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