#so chances are he took out his anger on the ones who failed. the older sibs. gonna say Unknown died for alec getting away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oval3000 · 1 year ago

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Oneshot!

Yandere Simon Riley x reader (Soap's younger sister)

(Pretend that you guys are adopted or something idk. Also the Canon story with Makarov will be different - he's dead)

Warning: Toxic behavior, light (Forced) Smut, Assault, Curse, very toxic. Yandere, Violence. Slight yandere platonic Soap.

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When Johnny's parents told him that he's going to have a baby sister at the age of 13, he was shocked and didn't expect it. At first, he wasn't really thrilled since the age gap was really big. His father will tell him that he'll have to protect you and love you like an older brother should do.

When they brought you home, he immediately realized the things his father had said. The feeling of not caring for you changed. He loves you. He would drop you off and pick you from school whenever he had the chance. He would take care off you when his parents go out on their date.

He would help you with your homework, even if he didn't understand it well. He would show up to all of your school events. He would give you pep talks whenever you needed it.

He got full custody of you, when his parents passed away.

When he joined the military, you were worried about him, but he assured you that everything was going to be okay. You would send him letters and he would reply, which caught Simon's attention.

He was able to get a safe house, after his encounter with Makarov to keep you safe. The only one that knows about it is Price, Gaz, and...Simon.

When they were stranded and needed to get shelter, Soap brought them to you. You met them...you met Simon. Simon couldn't help but to stare at you. You could feel his eyes on you and it didn't feel good. It felt like you were about to get eaten alive.

You never really had good luck with boys since Johnny would scare them away. So the feeling of a men staring you, made you feel a little uncomfortable.

Afterwards, Johnny told you that everything was going to be fine since they took down Makarov, you were happy that Johnny was no longer in danger.

He was happy that he can come home to you. He wouldn't know what to do if something bad happened to you.

So you can imagine his rage when he comes home and you're gone.

He didn't waste anytime to call Price and everyone, telling them that you are gone. They went to check the house and saw broken vases and picture frames on the floor. It wasn't rocket science to know that you have been kidnapped.

Johnny expressed his anger and concern to Simon, who he reassured Johnny that everything is going to be okay. They all tried to track you down. Visiting possible locations where you could be only to storm inside empty, abandoned, places.

Johnny couldn't sleep or think of anything else except to get you back. Each night when he tried to get some rest, all he can think is the moment his father told him to take care of you and failed.

The team told him to take it easy or else he would hit the breaking point of his own health. Price ordered him to take time off while they worked on finding you.

Simon would come and visit Johnny to check how he's doing. "What if she's gone forever, Simon? What would I do with myself if I never get to see her again?"

Simon looked at him with pity, "don't worry, Johnny. We'll find her."

After checking on Johnny and helping the team on finding you, he would go home to his safehouse. He would place his bag on the couch and take off his mask and jacket.

He would walk to kitchen and open the door, turning on the lights. He would walk down on the creaky, woodfloor, staircase. He would stand there, Infront of the twin bed centered on the back wall of the basement.

He would stare at you.

Chained up that is hooked to the bed headboard. You sat up seeing him there. The man that took you from your home and locked you down in his basement. "Please don't hurt me."

"Love, I'll do whatever the fuck I want with you." He took off his shirt, showing his toned muscles. He climbed on the bed, having you to back away as much as the bed headboard allows you to. "Be a good girl and spread those beautiful legs of yours."

He gripped on your waist, thrusting his hip into you. You felt his cock drilling you so hard and deep you held on to the chain links that is connected to the metal cuffs on your wrist.

You hated it. He loved it. He loved the way you squirm under his tough body structure." Ah..Yes! Be a good girl for me, love!" His grunts and moans will take over your ears aswell as the sound the bed creaking and the sound of wet skin slapping eachother.

He would flip you over, pushing his your head down into the mattress and lift your ass in the air, thrusting even harder. "You're fucking mine." He pulled your hair back, forcing you to arch your back. "All mine."

He would cum deep into your womb. He would get up and leave you there, naked. You would bury your head into the bedsheets and sob quietly. He hated to hear you cry. He really hated it. "Shut up! I'm doing this because you don't listen to me!" He clasp your cheeks with his hand. "You're gonna learn, yeah," he pulled down his pants and shoved his cock in your mouth.

You were forced to swallow his cum.

You have no idea how long you've been in his basement. You don't know if Johnny is out there looking for you. When you tell Simon about it, he would take off his belt and fuck you till you pass out.

At first, you were his sex toy. He'll come home to you and drill you in till you could see the stars and leave you naked alone in the dark.

However, lately, he would lay in bed with you. He would caress your body as you lays on his bare chest.

He would unhook the metal cuffs from your wrist and carry you, bridal style, upstairs to bathe you. He would come home with flowers and teddy bears for you. On your birthday, he would bring a piece of cake with a lit candle on it.

You couldn't tell if you have lost your mind or just accepted your fate, but you wanted him. You want Simon. You want his attention, his love, his affection to you.

When he comes home to fuck you, you felt pleasure than pain. "Mhm...yes! Ah!ah! Harder Sir!"

"Love it when you call me that, love." He huffed, burying his head on the side of your neck, moving his hips back and forth. The sound of the bed creaking so uncontrollable. "You're so...ah!...s-so fucking beautiful."

Although, his demeanor never changed. "How many times do I have to tell you!? You're not leaving this room!"

"I want out of these chains, Simon!" You plead to him, holding out your chained wrist.

He lowered his head to you, "No! And if I were you, I would drop it."

That's how it was for who knows how long you've been tied up in his basement.

You weren't the only one loosing their minds. Johnny, running around trying to found you.

However, his focus came to Simon. How? Because he visited you.

Johnny went to visit Simon, to talk to him, about you. He thought he had some lead on to where you are. When Simon was looking as to where he thought you might be, Johnny wanted to get a drink.

Johnny is no stranger to Simon. He knows where Simon keeps the drinks. So when Johnny touched the basement door, it snapped Simon.

Johnny brushed it off. But not having you in his arms, he would honestly put the blame on a mail man that he met once. So it wasn't out of character for him to honestly question his own teammates. Afterall, they all knew where you were. They knew where the safehouse was. So how bizzare would it be to accuse his friend of possibly taking you.

He would spend weeks, just studying on his mates and all the possible scenarios lead up to Simon. It wasn't really that out of place, Simon became a bit sloppy. His energy of founding in the beginning, shifted. When Johnny would want to go to his house and go to the basement to get some drinks, Simon wouldn't allow him.

So when Simon opened his door and saw Johnny there, he felt the nerves rising. "Hey, Lt. Sorry to just drop by like this. I just wanted to take break and being in the house without her makes it hell."

"No problem, Johnny." He moved outside to let him in. He felt his throat to dry up a bit. Johnny has been visiting him a lot these past few weeks and it was unusual.

They both began to talk and drink. Simon excused himself to use the restroom. Johnny didn't waste time to go to that basement. He opened the door and slowly walked down to not create loud creaking. He reached the bottom floor and saw the bed and you on top.

You were laying down on your side. When you heard the sounds of steps, you thought it was, "Simon?" You peaked up and saw your brother standing there.

It's been so long that you've seen him, so him being there made you cry out. "Johnny!?"

He stood there frozen. He wished there was nothing here. He wished he wrong. He wished that it wasn't Simon. He wished that it wasn't someone he had trusted. "(Y/n)?"

You are so happy to see you. So happy that you couldn't see Simon creeping up on Johnny. "Simon! Please don't!" Simon knocked Johnny out cold.

You plead and plead Simon to let Johnny go. He tied him up. When Johnny woke up, he felt his arms on his back. He went on his knees and saw Simon standing near you. "You..you fucking bastard. I trusted you. You're supposed to be my friend."

"I only did what was the best for us." Simon went to Johnny. Crouched down infront of him. "You left me with no choice. You're overprotective of her, I knew this was the only option."

"The only option! You bastard! She's my sister and you took her away from me. I would never have someone like you to end up with her." His anger with his harsh down tone words made Simon take a deep breath.

"I know. So you kinda left me with no other choice." He pulled out a gun and pointed it to his head.

"NO! PLEASE! Please! Don't do this, Simon!" You cried for him to stop. "Please! I'll do anything you want! Just please don't kill him! Please.

"Sweetheart, you don't make the choice here." He held the gun tight, almost hesitant to pull the trigger.

"I love you, Simon! I love you. I'll be with you! Please don't kill him! We'll both forget about this, right Johnny!?" Johnny looked at you from the side and gave a small nod. "Let him live and I'll be with you. I'll do whatever you want me to do. I'll listen to you,I swear!"

"If I lower my gun, will you attack me?" Simon said to Johnny. You gave Johnny head shooks to tell him not to do something stupid. Johnny wanted to kill him, he does. But he knows the outcome if this. If he does die, then you'll be with Simon. If he does attack Simon, then he'll have to kill his friend.

How he wished he was wrong about this.

"I won't attack you. If you let me go, I won't tell anyone about this. As long as I get to see her still, I promise I won't interfere with anything else. Just let her go off those chains." His voice toned down a bit in a more calming manner.

Simon lowered his gun and turned his head towards you. "You love me?"

Your eyes widen with fear as to what Simon is going to do. "Yes. Yes, I love you!"

He ran to you, cupping your face with his hands, "You love me, sweetheart? I love you too. We'll get married and gave kids together yeah."

"Yes. But don't hurt Johnny. Ou-our kids will want their uncle." You smiled at him trying to hide your fear.

"I won't. I love you so much."

The words stick through. Johnny told Price that you were found and that some punks kidnapped for you 'their fun' it took a couple of months for people to find out about you and Simon.

The wedding was beautiful to him. The honeymoon was magical to him. And the announcement of your pregnancy was amazing to him

Johnny watched you, his little sister. Being trapped in a marriage with Simon.

As for you, you couldn't quite think of anything. It was all Simon. He knows what's best for you.

So you should trust him and love him.

Right?

#yandere simon riley #ghost x reader #fanfic #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon x reader #simon ghost x reader

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silverflqmes · 7 months ago

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໒⦂ 𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒.

synopsis. in which cloud tries one last time to get through to sephiroth by a promise he’d once made, but it’s easier said than done.

genre. angst

tw. mentions of death and self harm / suicide ( nobody does anything dw, it’s more so brought into conversation ), self degradation ( not the uh SOLDIER kind, just y’know- insecurities.. )

sephiroth x cloud strife.

the blond staggered backwards from the strength of his greatest foe, gritting his teeth in annoyance. for having the thinnest blade in the world, he sure made his broadsword look like a feeble joke.

the buster might as well have been a children’s toy with the way sephiroth met his every strike, thrice as strong as cloud’s. but that was just how things were — they had matched each other to near perfection, even if the latter had much to learn still.

although that connotation only seemed to amuse the taller, knowing that at last, he was presented with an opponent that gave him a challenge. “you’re keeping up with me this time, cloud. afraid of messing up and losing everything again to me?” he inquired lowly, almost mockingly, yet curiously. “careful now, unless you want attachment to be your downfall once more.”

the spiky haired male wanted to fire back a retort, feeling his anger creep on him slowly, gradually, but he swallowed it down.

sephiroth, cloud reminded himself, was not in his right mind. he was not the man he once idolized and felt.. something.. for. overcome by jenova and his weak mind after all events leading up to nibelheim, the former hero was met with hollowed out shell of who he once was.. which his so called mother decided to help herself to claiming.

while the mercenary had a lot to be mad for, much to loathe his enemy for and every right to end his life yet again.. a promise echoed in his head, one that he had made long ago on the outskirts of midgar to an old friend — his reason for being alive to even face sephiroth again.

to be his living legacy.. and, to save his past buddy — the one winged angel before he had fallen from grace.

cloud knew it wouldn’t be easy, it never was with sephiroth.. still, he had a vow to uphold, and despite failing to do so in their previous skirmishes.. he was determined this time to pave his way through — to the sephiroth he once knew.

“attachment won’t be my downfall, sephiroth.” he shook his head, straightening himself out to the best of his abilities. “you’re just too high up on that pedestal of yours now to realize it.”

the silver haired male curled his lips, chuckling. “is that so?” he quipped back softly, circling the blond. “enlighten me on how this battle of ours will lead to a different outcome, then, cloud.”

it was now the mercenary’s turn to smirk as he angled the point of his blade into the ground, sinking it into place before stepping up to his opponent. “cuz i won’t be fighting you this time.” he answered flatly, folding his arms.

piqued, the older quirked a gray brow before humming lightly. “a foolish approach. or could it be that my despair has gotten to you at last.” he remarked, lowering masamune to his side as he took long, but slow strides toward cloud. “whatever it might be, it will get you killed.”

the mako-azure eyed male was hardly fazed, having expected such a response, though it wouldn’t stop him. it might have before, but not this time. “if that’s how it is, i would have been killed years ago, and you know it.” he retaliated smartly, folding his arms over his chest. “you pretty much had every chance at killing me, whether in a fight or those times you decided it would be fun to fuck around and haunt me. so why now?” cloud pressed, stepping forward again, challengingly. “why will it get me killed now, and not back then?”

sephiroth was silent for a moment, the proximity now eliminated between him and his adversary.

normally, cloud would never indulge him in conversation for long — would not make an attempt at negotiating that didn’t last less than two minutes.

this was.. different. strange. unlike the blond he’d lock blades with many times before.

what had changed?

“perhaps.” he answered at length, if only to decrease the duration of his lack of response. “i saw no reason to kill you then. i still do not see a purpose in doing so now.” shinra’s former hero spoke, looking ahead. “however, your lack of guard, attachments.. and overconfidence, will destroy you.” he continued, flickering his gaze back down to the shorter. “whether or not that is by my hand, or some other occurrence.”

cloud furrowed his brows. this wasn’t the full story, it was almost as if sephiroth had been.. “bullshit. you’re hiding something.” he fired back immediately, but leveled. “minus what happened in nibelheim, you’ve never finished me off or left any life threatening injuries. you appear randomly to either give me some weird ass psychological torture to encourage me or warn me.” he ranted, meeting the other’s aloof stare. “i’m in the way of your ultimate goal, yet you let me live. what’s with that shit?” the self proclaimed ex-first class SOLDIER finished, searching his opponent for something — anything that could shed clarity on his confusion.

but sephiroth was, and always would be, an enigma.

not that it mattered to cloud. he was getting answers, and he wasn’t going to let the feline eyed male leave him in the dark once more; he had enough of that already.

“answer me.” the merc pressed, impatience growing when the other hadn’t responded.

sephiroth gave a small smirk and another low laugh of his. “demanding, aren’t we?” he jested lightly, shrugging his shoulders before shaking his head. “i expected no less, cloud.” he turned to face the moonless sky. “do you remember what i said to you before, after you’d blown up the first mako reactor?”

the blond’s memories were a fog — a thick mist cast over most events in his life, but that, that he remembered. all too clear, in fact. it might as well have been a real encounter.

“you went on about the planet’s suffering and how you would hate to be on it if i wasn’t here with you.” the spiky haired male paraphrased, eyeing him skeptically. “what’s that got to do with any of this?”

mako slitted eyes slid down to meet sapphire-teal, the smile on his lips growing. “everything, cloud.” he answered in that suave, hushed tone of his, facing the boy before him. “without you, i would not be. and without me,” sephiroth paused, leaning in closer. “you, cloud, would not be.”

the blond let out a mirthless laugh, glaring at the other. “so what, i gotta kill myself now to stop you? take us both down to put an end to your shit?” he pressed, ignoring the pitter patter to his fragile heart.

silver flowed in the wind, glimmering beneath the starry ebony. “is that what you believe to be the solution, cloud?”

enraptured in those intense eyes, the male in question found difficulty in averting his stare, let alone mustering a reply.

leave it to sephiroth to tear his thoughts to shambles, weaving in his own confusing ones to fuck with his.

“you’re basically saying you can’t live without me, so yeah.” he answered curtly, shifting his weight to his opposite half. “unless you finally wanna stop being cryptic and give a clear answer.”

the long haired male let out a hum, blinking slowly, as a bored cat would. “now what fun would there be in that, cloud? i rather enjoy your guessing.” he responded as a matter of factly, crossing his arms over the broad expanse of his chest.

cloud let a moment pass, mainly because he knew he would lose his shit if he spoke up right away. and that.. would not get through to his past idol. “so then if i just struck my heart and bled out, you wouldn’t give a single-?”

“i would not allow it.” sephiroth intercepted a little above the latter’s tone, feeling the crisp air caress his pale cheeks.

“but i.. will not end.” cloud once heard him say, at the edge of creation. “nor will i let you end.”

was this.. what he meant?

the blond gritted his teeth. “like i would listen to a thing you say.” he bit back, picking up his sword. “maybe i should, then, since you don’t want me to.”

with furrowed brows, the taller trudged forward, manifesting his odachi. “you will do no such.”

a normal person would have backed out by now, and once upon a time, if he was still the pathetic rank he was, cloud might have done so, too. “why not? petty that my death would end your reign before it even comes?” he mocked, matching the intensity of his nemesis’s gaze.

however, sephiroth’s had been short lived. “cloud, i mean it. you would be wise not to inflict harm upon yourself.”

“don’t pretend you care.” the merc countered, gripping his hilt tighter. “you just need me for the stupid bond.” he argued before shaking his head, heaving a breath. “why did i even bother trying to save you? i knew i would break yet another promise to zack, and for some odd reason, i still tried for him.” he lowered his great sword. “more importantly, or actually, stupidly, i tried for you.”

the former SOLDIER found himself at a loss for a change. the last he’d been rendered speechless was that day in nibelheim — the encounter with genesis that led him down this dark path hojo had paved personally for him- for jenova.

“you are as naive as zack was, to believe that i needed saving and that it needs to be done by you, cloud.” he scoffed, tearing his gaze away from him. “why should i require saving? i have never felt more myself.”

cloud pursed his lips together, growing considerably more annoyed. “if yourself is her, then that isn’t you. that’s not who you were.” he disagreed, fighting every urge in his body that just screamed to give up on this pacifistic method of his and resume to the usual fighting.

it was what the blond was good at, anyway, what he’d been made to do.. and yet, here he was, negotiating like a fool.

sephiroth appeared unbothered, minus the knit to his brows. “that is who i am, and who i was destined to become. the person you speak of was weak, trying so pathetically hard to fit into humanity despite himself. and what was the result? betrayal, and by his close ones no less. the one you see before you now, has embraced himself for who he is, and it has made him strong.”

the buster felt heavy in his hands for once, perhaps its way of telling him not to raise the blade that had been passed down to him. a poor attempt on behalf the first and second holder — whom cloud had made his promise to.

how troublesome.

“zack didn’t betray you.” cloud willed himself to say, lifting his burning gaze back up to his enemy’s. “you left him in the dark for trying to help you. fine if you wanna be pissed at me for stabbing you, but he actually tried to be there for you.. countless times, and you,” he paused for breath, knowing the difficulties of digging into his memories, but it was necessary. “you shut him out.” he finished quietly, lowering his eyes to the broadsword in his gloved hands. “i know i’m not him, i’ll never be half the man he was. but i’m.. i’m what’s left of him, the proof that he lived — and if he told me that you were worth saving..” the blond sucked in a breath, peering back up through his unruly bangs. “then, you are.”

the former famed hero was reticent for a moment, and the male across from him began to wonder if he had perhaps spoken too much. however, he reminded himself that his words had to be brought across.

whether or not that had upset sephiroth.

“if zack truly wanted to save me, he would have continued trying despite my words.” he broke the silence, narrowing his eyes slightly. “had he cared as you claim he had, would he not have continued pressing? zack did so for everything else- had done so for angeal, even when he told him to stop.. and yet, he gave up on me the moment i told him to.” sephiroth acknowledged bitterly, recalling the event as though it had been yesterday.

flipping through towers of books in the library beneath shinra manor, page after page of what was hidden from him — each more agonizing than the last. not a single soul to save him from his inevitable descent into madness.

cloud, not knowing what to say, fell quiet, weighing the words of his past role model. his reason for even joining shinra in the first place.

the blond would be lying if he said he hadn’t understood sephiroth and his reasoning, as he dealt with his own share of being left out in the dark.. but still, “and if he continued to come, then what? would you have listened? would zack have gotten through that thick ass skull of yours?”

his lips tightened. “perhaps he would have, because i would have known that i was worth pushing for.” he answered softly, clenching his fist. “but i.. was not. and he left his dying wish to someone bathed in guilt, who only seeks to do it to fulfill a promise and have his supposed sins forgiven.” sephiroth finished, more frigid than the frost cloud once walked through in modeoheim.

it pierced like daggers through his chest — the spot he’d once plunged masamune into back in nibelheim.

was the spiky haired male really just doing it to be forgiven..? to feel like he had done at least one thing right in the pathetic life he led? the one that continued to be saved time and time again, when really, it should have just been left to shrivel and return to the lifestream. if he was even worthy of it.

or was it, that cloud had truly wanted to save sephiroth? even in spite of his anguish — the resentment he harbored since that fateful incident.

overcome by his muddled feelings, the blond acted on impulse and dropped his weapon to pull down the other by the straps across his chest.

his heart was heavy, hands clammy because of how close his nemesis had stood — the stakes higher than ever before.. but cloud didn’t care. he couldn’t bother to care as he pressed his lips against the rosewood ones of his former inspiration — his reason.

a shock that didn’t quite reach his eyes struck through sephiroth, but it wasn’t long before he returned the kiss. strongly, passionately. never chaste — because that wasn’t them.

cloud could never forgive himself for being put out of commission as he was during the visit back then to the mako reactor. his promise to protect his childhood friend and to measure up to the firsts became his downfall — and that become fodder for his self hatred.

because maybe, just maybe, he could have at least made that effort to put aside his pain and visit sephiroth himself — or at any rate, push zack some more to visit.. but he could not. the former infantryman failed that time, failed many times after..

but not today.

cloud refused to let another opportunity go to waste.

deprived of his breath, because the mercenary only expected his adversary to steal it away entirely, wholly for himself, he at last broke away, panting.

his gloved fingers still encircled those crisscrossed suspenders, cheeks burning with color as his eyes opened to a half lidded state.

sephiroth appeared more composed than he had, but there was the slightest hint of fervor on him as well, the breathlessness resulting from the heated contact they exchanged.

somehow, his hands found their way to the shorter’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer to his body as he held him there without any intentions of letting him go.

part of him wanted to call cloud foolish, for subjecting himself to such an impulsive act, such a poor attempt at getting his feelings across.. but the silver haired general would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it- if he hadn’t wanted it. that sensation of those flushed appendages pressed so wantonly up against his own. it was unlike anything he’d felt before.

and from cloud, no less.

“i’m not doing this shit for validation. maybe i do wanna feel like i at least succeeded at one thing in my life — but this..” he relinquished his grasp a little, lifting his sharp mako tinted eyes. “me saving you.. this is something i didn’t get to do back then — instead i..” cloud swallowed the lump forming in his throat, willing his voice to remain steady. “i killed you. i promised that i would do what zack couldn’t do, and i instead, i just — continued to fight you because i was angry.. conflicted.. betrayed, too.” as it wasn’t only sephiroth that had his share of treachery. “and i just let that consume me.. that, and you kept insisiting for me to hold into that hatred, too.. saying to fill my heart with rage — rather than just,” a stuttered exhale. “letting me help you.”

they were nothing to each other back then, when they needed the other most. were in essence strangers, despite the mercenary knowing and idolizing him.

now, they were everything to one another, in every way possible. sephiroth could not be without cloud, and likewise cloud could be without sephiroth.

the long haired swordsman brought a leather clad hand to his lightly tanned cheek, lowering his hooded cat-like eyes. “you cannot help me, cloud. if you could not do so then.. what makes you believe that you could now?”

lifting a hand to hold the one that cradled his cheek so gently, cloud squeezed his, sapphire burning with determination. “because that was then, and this is now.” the merc repeated the words that were once spoken to him — a petty interception of his accusation on whether or not he had killed the self proclaimed son of jenova.

the taller allowed his lips to curl, a soft hum leaving them. “quoting me now? that was a different context, as you know.” he spoke up smoothly, circling his thumb on the other’s cheek. “still, ‘saving me’, as you phrased it.. will undoubtedly cost you. are you prepared to make that sacrifice?”

cloud allowed his fingers to slip between the cracks of sephiroth’s, scoffing lightly. “is this supposed to be different from any other time?” he questioned before rolling his eyes. “i think i’ll manage just fine, so you can stop trying to make me doubt my choices.” his childhood hero was a lot of things, but this side of him was entirely different from what the media displayed and the version of himself that had emerged from shinra mansion that day and onward.

this sephiroth.. was vulnerable, human, despite what he claimed. he was entitled to his share of insecurities and doubts outside of that unyielding face of confidence he wore.

he hid well, had discarded him completely for this arrogant, vengeance seeking sephiroth. but there were cracks, and cloud was willing to slip into them to find the man he once knew.

although they would be sharp edged, it was no different from any strike inflicted upon him in the past. so what was a few more?

the silver haired SOLDIER looked ready to protest, to rebuttal his words once more, however the arguments fell silent on his tongue, a laugh surfacing in their place. “it seems i underestimated you, cloud. perhaps you will save me after all,” he spoke up softly, leaning into his ear. “i cannot promise it will be easy, though.”

leaning his chin on his large pauldron, the blond let out a noise of amusement watching as silver spilled and curtained all around him. “like anything is ever easy between us.” cloud shook his head before closing his eyes. “it’s a good thing i’m used to it, sephiroth.”

a large hand slid to the small of his back, a chuckle sounding. “it’s a good thing you are, cloud.”

notes. my bad y’all i drafted this on the plane last week and i felt the need to finish it before i continued the rest of my requests ( my inbox is in the twenties guys.. ) anyways, to sefikura enjoyers and passerbys, hope you guys liked it, pls refrain from ship hate or i will slam that block button on your asses ok bye<3

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sc0tters · 1 year ago

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Promise Me | Trevor Zegras

summary: you and Trevor are forced to confront your past when you are brought back together for Alex’s birthday.

request: yes/no

prompt: “I just... I thought you would’ve called.”

warnings: mentions of alcohol

word count: 1.45k

authors note: been trying to figure out how to write this prompt all day and I think I ended up landing on an option that makes me happy. I’ve given dickhead Trevor actual emotions for this one?

It was the hardest thing he had ever done.

Just over three years ago Trevor dumped you days before he signed his professional contract with the Ducks.

To say that you were left gobsmacked was an understatement, as a couple you had been experiencing long distance since you went to college. You were in Vancouver and he was in Boston when everything seemed to be going well. You thought you were ready to spend the rest of your life with him but clearly Trevor felt differently.

Trevor broke up with you through text blocking your number before you had the chance to ask him about it. The hockey player had done it that way as he hoped that it would mean that he didn’t need to see your heart break in front of him.

Some fucked up part of his mind believed that breaking up with you was the best thing for you. Trevor didn’t want to hold you back. You were destined for a successful job and the hockey player wanted you to be happy with a man who could truly love you in the way you needed.

Life was tough as you tried to move on, all the dates you went on ended with you never calling them again. Whether it was the fact that they didn’t make you feel the way Trevor used to, their laugh didn’t sound like music to your ears, you just couldn’t find it in your heart to love them. Not when Trevor was still the man your heart yearned for.

Six months ago you had gotten a job offer with the LA Kings media team and you didn’t hesitate to take it.

Alex remembered you from your time with Trevor and whilst none of their friends truly knew how the relationship ended, they all just assumed that it was the distance that brought the best sixteen months of your life.

But the older boy still took you under his wing from the moment you got to the golden state.

You had managed to avoid Trevor as you turned down Alex’s offers to nights out, all until his birthday. As much as you didn’t want to go, you simply couldn’t say no to him not on his birthday.

So you got ready, having a few shots of confidence before you made your way to the club.

It made you feel sick as you locked eyes with Trevor. His hair had grown, his new tattoo sleeve was on full display letting you see it for the first time.

Similar thoughts went through his head as he saw how your hair had grown and you looked as beautiful as ever “what are you looking at?” The girl he was talking to asked as she furrowed her eyebrows attempting to follow his line of sight.

The Ducks player felt anger form in his belly as Alex pulled you into a hug calling over his teammates that he was talking to so that they’d see you. Trevor wasn’t a jealous person, truly he wasn’t. But when it came to the idea of one of his best friends dating you, sure you weren’t Trevor girl anymore but that didn’t matter to him.

A scoff left the girls lips as she connected the pieces together “you’re an asshole dude,” she complained as she pushed past him heading back in the direction of her friends.

The air was thick as Trevor made his way to the area “good to see you Zegras,” you were willing to bite your tongue for the sakes of Alex and his birthday.

But when you said that it was a total burst of his bubble “you two y/n,” he licked his lips.

A few hours went by and you continued to drink making your own game where whenever the boy stared at you long enough to make you feel like he was burning holes into your head you’d take another shot.

If they needed to know how you were feeling, you’d definitely be failing any and all versions of a dui test.

It took Trevor a lot longer than he would like to admit to finally talk to you properly “dance with me Cole!” You slurred as you held your hand out to the boy who was sat looking at his empty shot glass “don’t make me beg!” Your pout was enough to get the HABS player standing but all of that didn’t matter when Trevor got up and wrapped his hand around your arm pulling you in the direction of the door.

Your mind went blank as you didn’t know what to say “we will dance later!” You called out as you pointed your finger at Cole who just laughed in response.

Trevor scowled as his grip tightened “no you won’t,” he mumbled as he finally got to the door and stopped walking when he got you outside.

The wall was cold as it hit your back “what the fuck are you doing here?” The hockey player spat finally letting his grip soften around your arm.

Air was forced out of your chest when his face was centimetres away from yours “it’s Alex’s birthday,” your voice was near inaudible like you hadn’t even spoken.

It made the boy roll his eyes as he couldn’t believe that you were actually there “I work with him,” you added trying to justify your reasoning for being there.

Trevor let out a low laugh “you fucking live here now?” He didn’t think that the words were coming out of your month.

How long had you been there for? How had Alex not told him that you were there? The questions ran through his head at a million miles an hour “did you expect me to update you on life or something?” You scoffed as you rolled your eyes hearing the stupidity behind it.

He didn’t want to admit it but he swore that it would have been the case “I just… I thought you would’ve called,” Trevor confessed finally letting his emotions come to fruition.

What he didn’t expect was that you’d let out a laugh pushing him off of you “you text dumped me and think that I’d call you when I came to town?” You shook your head swearing that he was on something that let him be that stupid.

Trevor push his hand through his hair “yeah, pretty fucking shit way to get dumped.” You added as you crossed your arms.

Your eyes stared at him going straight to his soul “I did it for you,” Trevor’s comments made you want to pull your hair out “don’t you dare fucking say that to me!” The loud tone of your voice attracted the attention of people around you.

Tears formed in your waterline “you think dumping me was for my own benefit?” You were glad that you had enough vodka in your system that you were able to say everything you wanted to “you broke up with me when I needed you the most.” The moment your voice began to shake Trevor wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you into a hug. That was clock work for him, his way of comforting you always.

Those hugs were like your drug, they were the kind of thing that was good for your heart soul and mind “m sorry,” the hockey players voice tickled your ear sending shivers down your spine.

A sniffle left your nose “was I not enough for you?” You asked pulled away to look at him.

Trevor used his thumb to wipe your tear away “baby you are my world.” The sober part of you believed that he had misspoken with the tenses, but the drunk part of you just thought about how kissable his lips looked.

Your lips formed a pout as your hand went on top of his “don’t say that if you don’t mean it.” You sighed not wanting to let your thoughts get the best of you “I can’t go through that pain again.” You added as you were ready to go jump into his arms letting him bring you back to his apartment.

The hockey player nodded “really thought I was doing the right thing baby,” Trevor matched your disappointed tone as he was being honest with you.

An idea sparked in your head “if I give you another chance-” you tucked your hair behind your ears “I’ll do anything,” he cut off you off as his eyes lit up.

“If you’re going to let it end let me down easy this time.” You huffed as your cheeks grew warm “I can’t handle you breaking it all over again.”your words caused him to nod.

“Gonna give you the world, I promise.”

#ambers 500 celly #trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras oneshot #trevor zegras x reader #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #imagines #oneshots #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #amber writes fics

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bow-of-aros · 14 hours ago

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What do you want, Pete?

I decided to just say fuck it and post this here in its entirety just for funsies :))

Summary:

What if the thing that Peter Spankoffski treasured most wasn't Stephanie Lauter, but instead his older brother who'd gone missing months ago?

Guys. I've gone literally insane over this series. Ted and Peter are so babygirl to me I love them so much. I just. ALDSJDKSJLDAJKSJK you know?? Anyway, enjoy this idea that took over my brain until I got it out!! <33

One of you must give up the thing you treasure above all else.

Those words ring in Peter’s ears. Vaguely, he can hear Steph offer something with a very unpleased reception that makes him cringe out of some deep-seated survival instinct, and he feels fingers that are longer than they should be and uncannily boneless card through his hair.

“Steph?”

His voice reverberates through his head as though coming from underwater. His eyes land on the gun in her lap, and something in the back of his mind whispers danger!

It’s drowned out by the crash of memories that yell TED!

Ted Spankoffski, Pete’s older brother by over a decade and the only family member who’d ever bothered to give half a shit about him. Their parents had dropped Peter off at his doorstep at the ripe young age of six, right when they realized that a second child wasn’t going to be the thing that saved their failing marriage and fucked off to who knows where. The only contact he had with them was when they sent Ted money to put towards supporting a whole ass other person when he was just barely out of college.

Every time he met someone, they would raise their eyebrows and say, “Spankoffski? Like Ted Spankoffski?” and then pat him on the shoulder sympathetically when he said yes. Pete always had to push down the anger that threatened to bubble up because, yeah, Ted could be an asshole, but nobody even bothered to know him before making their fucking judgments.

Ted had had a shitty life, with the same shitty parents Peter had, and then had a child dumped on him before he’d even had the chance to properly figure out who he was.

By all accounts, Ted should’ve been an awful guardian, and it’s what everyone seemed to assume. But damn if he hadn’t done his best.

He’d driven Peter to school until he was old enough to take the bus on his own. He’d shown up to every science fair and asked a shitload of questions just to make Peter smile as he answered them. He dressed Peter up for every pointless graduation and cheered embarrassingly loudly when his little brother walked across the stage.

When Pete got older, Ted had been the person to cut his hair and take him shopping for new clothes when he first came out as trans. He’d sat the kid down and told him that he’d always have Ted, and always have a room in his apartment. Then, he’d added that if any of Peter’s dork-ass friends ever needed a place to crash, that the door was always open.

A few months ago, Ted had left mid-hookup with Charlotte Sweetly to pick up a bruised and bloodied Peter from school. He’d almost made it through the school day before bumping into Max Jägerman on the way out and Ted had made it across town in an amount of time that had to have been illegal. They’d spent the rest of the night after getting Pete patched up and sitting on the couch watching trashy TV, Ted muttering increasingly absurd threats of violence towards someone half his age the whole time until Peter finally cracked a smile.

The next morning, Peter Spankoffski had woken up, and his brother wasn’t there.

It wasn’t a big deal at first. Ted might’ve gone to work early (unlikely) or met up with a friend (what friend?). But, after hundreds of unread texts and unanswered calls, Peter asking anyone he could think of if they’d seen Ted to no avail, and waiting up every night until he passed out from sheer exhaustion straining his ears for footsteps that never came, well…

It’s Hatchetfield. People go missing every day.

“Pete?” A hand on his shoulder ripped him back to the present, and Peter scrubbed away tears as he looked at Steph’s terrified face.

He turned his face away from her.

He blinked.

And he found himself looking into the glowing yellow eyes of the crazy-ass goat man who seemed to already know him. T’noy Karaxis, a voice whispered into his ear, a foreboding sense of familiarity washing over him, making his blood run cold.

The Lord in Black grinned impossibly wide at him, blue tongue lolling out and the stench of death radiating off of it.

“Hi Petey-pie!” It laughed, and the laugh grated against his hears for seconds and for eons, “I think that I know what you want~”

Its voice had a horrible sing-song quality to it, like someone who’s thrilled to know a secret that you don’t. The longer that Peter looked into its eyes, the harder his head pounded. Its rectangular pupils stretched far and wide, twisting into never-ending corridors that sent bursts of pain through him as his brain tried to wrap itself around the impossibilities.

“HEY!” The hand on his shoulder yanked him back, the paths of yellow fading as he saw Steph standing between him and that monster. “Leave him alone! What the fuck is your deal?!”

Its smile didn’t fade and Peter could feel its eyes burning into him even through the girl in front of him. The intensity only increased when he blinked to find Wiggly standing next to him, beaming with the sort of glee he would attribute to a kid on Christmas morning.

“Now, now,” He chided, “I’ve convinced my brother here to give up something very dear to him and it wouldn’t be nice if my little fwendy wend didn’t hear him out.”

Peter tried to smile reassuringly at Steph, but the It’s okay, I can do this that he’d wanted to convey had probably leaned more into Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Either way, she seemed to understand what he was getting at and stepped out of the way.

The second she did, a bright yellow flash blinded him. He could feel reality warp around him as the chilling screams from across hundreds of thousands of universes converged in this one fragile moment. When Peter opened his eyes again, blinking away the dots seared into his vision, what he saw nearly brought him to his knees.

Ted looked exactly as he did the last night they saw each other save for the tear tracks that streamed down his cheeks, soaking his shirt.

His brother looked up and a small gasp escaped his lips.

“Petey?”

Suddenly, this ritual meant nothing. The Lords in Black and Max Jägerman and this whole fucking town could go fuck themselves because Peter wasn’t alone anymore.

“Ted! Holy shit!” Neither of them mentioned how Peter’s voice cracked as he launched himself into his brother’s arms, sobbing into his chest as familiar arms wrapped around him and held him so tight he felt like he might explode. Finally, finally, he was safe.

“How touching.”

Except he wasn’t.

Their arms tightened impossibly more around each other as they looked up at Wiggly through teary eyes, clinging onto the flimsy hope that they wouldn’t be separated again if they could only will it hard enough.

Surprisingly, it was Ted who spoke first, “What the fuck do you want with my brother you sick fucks?! AM I NOT FUCKING ENOUGH FOR YOU?!”

Wiggly didn’t bother to acknowledge the outburst, attention solely fixed on Peter, green light seeping out of him and into the teenager’s pores, filling every inch of him with a sense of wrong.

“This is the other option,” The Lord’s eyes shone as maliciousness seeped into its voice, “Tinky has enough Teds to last him a good, long while, but things will be a little empty without him there. So, if you want us to take Maxwell off your plate, you can trade him,” A crooked finger pointed at Steph, “for her.”

Immediately, Peter and Ted started talking over each other.

“What?! I don’t even know where he’s been—”

“She’s a fucking child you can’t put her in the Box—”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Wiggly silenced them both. His wrathful tone is in stark contrast to the rest of the Lords grinning and dancing behind him.

He stared down at them, “Alright, let’s make this a little more interesting. If you don’t want to trade him in, you have to send him back. You need to say the words I condemn my big brother to an eternity of torture to save a girl who talked to me for the first time a few weeks ago.”

Wiggly’s arms were spread wide, palms up like a benevolent god, “Your choice, Peter. Of course,” He said, walking back over to Steph, “You won’t have to give up your brother if she puts a bullet through your skull. Just think, you could set your brother free, and you have options!”

A cacophony of laughter echoed through the gym, rattling their bones and reverberating against the crash of thunder that sounded outside.

“We’ll leave you to decide. Hopefully, Maxy doesn’t get you first!”

And then they vanish, but not without Tinky leering as the still entangled brothers and whispering Tick-fucking-tock.

Silence rings through the space, the only thing keeping Pete grounded being the warmth of his brother at his side. Steph is looking down at the gun in her trembling hands, tears slowly starting to drip from her eyes as Grace just stares down at the Black Book, blood drained from her face and seemingly catatonic.

“Pete. Petey.” Ted turns to look him in the eye and there’s something achingly different. Aside from the sliver of yellow that rings his pupils, they look so old and so scared. Like he’s been away for decades instead of months, seeing things no one should ever have to see.

And from what he’s heard, that might not be too far off.

Still, Ted pressed his lips into a firm line to steady his voice before saying, “You have to send me back. The Box is no place for a kid and you will not fucking die, do you hear me?!”

No matter how tight Ted is holding on, Peter can still feel how he’s shaking, can still hear the slight break in his voice as Ted’s eyes dart frantically across his face, drinking in the sight of the brother he thought he’d never see again.

“I can’t. I can’t.” He’s crying again, but Peter can’t be bothered to give a damn right now, “I love you. You’ve been gone for months and it’s been horrible. I can’t do this without you Teddy.”

Ted flinched at that, squeezing his eyes shut and taking in a shaky breath as emotions flickered across his face too quickly for Peter to decipher.

“I love you too, Pete. That’s why I can’t let you be fucking stupid, okay?!” Ted ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but you have to let me protect you. Send me back and never even think about the Lords in Black again, graduate high school and live your life and date Stephanie fucking Lauter.”

At her name, Peter’s eyes flickered up.

He looked at her.

He looked at the gun in her hands.

He looked back at his brother.

“You’ve protected me my whole life. It’s my fucking turn.”

Peter disentangled himself from Ted despite his frantic protests and ran up to Steph, wrapping his hands around hers and, subsequently, curling her fingers around the gun.

“Steph—” He was cut off almost immediately.

“No. Nonononono Pete I won’t. I can’t.” She pleaded with him, “Trade me in, I don’t have anything left here anymore. My dad’s dead, I never really had any friends, and any potential I had went down the gutter years ago.

Her gaze flickered over to Ted who was not-so-subtly trying to in closer to Grace and the Book, much to Grace’s growing annoyance. “But you can get your brother back! I know how much you’ve missed him, how much he means to you. You’re going to make a real difference, Pete. You have shit to live for and I don’t.”

Ted was walking up to them now, having given up on Grace, and seeing how determined he was to keep them safe only solidified the decision he’d already made.

“Look. I’m not sending either of you into whatever Hell dimension Ted literally just got out of.” Peter turned to face them both, speaking fast and leaving no room for interruption, “I’ll let Max kill me before I do that to either of you. I’m dying either way, let me at least do something good with it.”

Something shifted in Steph’s face, a realization that Peter wouldn’t be swayed, and she nodded shakily as she adjusted her grip on the gun.

“Do it, Steph. Please.”

He took a few steps back, ignoring Ted’s desperate Nononono Petey you can’t fucking do this! He tried to rush forward, but Steph raised the gun and aimed it right at Peter’s forehead.

BANG!

A force knocked Peter down, sending him to the ground as pain exploded through the back of his head.

Wait. The back?

Peter fought through the swimming in his head to pry his eyes open just to see that what was weighing him down actually wasn’t the darkness coming to claim him.

It was Ted.

“Ow! Ow ow ow fucking OW!” Ted rolled off from on top of his younger brother, clutching at his shoulder, “Your aim is fucking shit, Lauter! Jesus Christ.”

Peter quickly scrambled to his knees, hovering over his brother who had just taken a bullet for him, tears welling up again for the millionth time, because apparently today was the day for it.

“Shit Ted!” He wasted no time in ripping off his sweater, leaving him in his white collared shirt, and pressing it to the rapidly bleeding wound in his shoulder, “You dumbass! What the fuck were you thinking?!”

And Ted laughed at him, “What the fuck was I thinking? What the fuck were you thinking?! That bullet wasn’t even going to hit you in the head!” Peter pressed down a little harder and Ted hissed out a breath from between his teeth, “Holy shit being shot hurts more than I thought it was going to and I have had a lot of shit done to me.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“Well, well, well,” Thunder rumbled through the gym, seemingly disregarding trivial things like walls and ceilings in its volume, “Look at what we have here.”

“Oh God. He’s here.” Steph crowded up against Peter and Ted, shielding them with her body as Peter desperately tried to keep the pressure firm with his shaking hands.

“I didn’t know that there were two dork-ass Spankoffskis!” Max walked out from behind the bleachers, a mock pout sitting on his lips, “But I was really hoping that Steph was going to make my job a little easier and get rid of the little bitch. Too bad, now it looks like I get to kill two for the price of one!”

“But first,” His hand whipped out unnaturally fast, grabbing hold of Steph and throwing her off to the side, “I’m going to deal with you. You lured me to my death! You betrayed me, you fucking Judas!”

“So you do know the Bible!” Oh. So that’s where Grace went.

“Your brother’s going to be just fine, Peter.” The nurse looked down at him with sympathetic eyes as he hunched over Ted’s hospital bed in the uncomfortable plastic chair that seemed to be mandatory for some insane reason. “He got lucky and the bullet didn’t hit any major arteries. Maybe you should go home and get some rest. Take a shower, get a change of clothes, we’ll keep an eye on him until you get back.”

Even the thought of letting Ted out of his sight drenched him with fear, so he squeezed Ted’s hand tighter and said, “No, thank you. I think I’m going to stay here until he wakes up if that’s alright.”

For a brief second, Peter could’ve sworn that he saw a brief flash of annoyance accompanied by a yellow shine in his eyes before it was gone and an understanding grin took its place. It was so convincing that Peter almost started questioning whether he was losing it but, after everything he’d been through recently, he wasn’t going to be taking any chances.

The door swung open and in walked Steph wearing mismatched clothes from the lost and found and trying to dry off her damp hair.

“Hey, Pete.” She said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “He wake up yet?”

His eyes fell back onto his brother. Even asleep he looked exhausted, deep lines worried into his skin that hadn’t been there before. When was the last time he’d gotten some rest?

Peter shook off the question, adding it to the pile of shit he was going to be asking Ted when he woke up.

“No. Not yet.”

She pulled back with a slight wrinkle of her nose, “Yeah, well, no offense Pete, but you fucking reek. I left a pile of clothes that I think might fit you on the chair, so please go take a quick shower. I don’t care if all you do is rinse yourself off, you have to do something.”

“But—” He didn’t get very far before Steph gathered his free hand in hers.

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to him, okay?” Steph looked him in the eye, “Pete. I won’t even blink until you get back, I promise.”

And, you know what? He believed her.

Peter gathered up the clothes with a grateful smile and a quick glance at Ted who was still lying there, “I swear to God, Ted, if you’re not still here when I come back I am going to climb into that Box and kill you myself.”

The hospital walls were bright and seemingly endless and too close to the labyrinth he’d seen in that thing's eyes, so it was a relief when he turned into the washroom and locked himself into a shower stall.

There was a mirror in there and wow he looked like shit, no wonder people kept telling him to take a shower. But something was off, and as he looked a little closer, Peter realized that his eyes weren’t the usual brown.

Instead, they were a bright yellow.

His reflection grinned at him, and that stink of death roiled over him as it spoke.

“Just you wait, Petey-Pie! Soon, I’ll have you and my precious Teddy Bear back in my collection.” His skin started peeling from his face as his jaw stretched until it dislocated and then kept going until a long blue tongue spilled out, “Oh boy! We’re going to have so much fun.”

And then Peter blinked, and his own pale, terrified expression stared back at him again. Brown eyes and all.

The worst part was that he could still smell it. He must’ve taken the fastest shower in his life, scrubbing himself until he was nearly raw before throwing the clothes onto his still-soaked body and rushing back to Ted’s hospital room.

He crashed through the door, heart pounding, just to see Ted and Steph exactly where he’d left them.

Except, Ted looked over at him with a weak smile and Peter nearly collapsed in relief.

His brother extended an arm in invitation and Peter basically dove into the bed beside him, holding on tight and telling his racing heart to calm the fuck down because Ted was here.

“Hey, Petey.”

Ah, shit. More tears because of fucking course there would be.

Peter managed a wobbly grin because everything was finally as it should be and said, “Hey, Ted.”

It was a nice moment until Steph cleared her throat a little pointedly, causing both Spankoffski’s to jolt guiltily.

“Jeez, Pete.” Ted jostled him a bit, mindful of his healing shoulder, “You’re a terrible fucking host. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

Peter went to sit up, and Ted’s arm tightened instinctively before letting him go, even though they didn’t fully break contact. “Yeah. Yeah! Uh, Ted, this is Steph.” Steph waved with a fond smile on her face, “And Steph, this is my brother, Ted.”

Ted reached out with his good hand, “Nice to meet you. Kind of insane that my brother managed to pull someone so far out of his league, but you’ve got a good guy on your hands.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Steph had to raise her voice to be heard over Peter’s groan, “And I know, Mr. Spankoffski, I’m just happy that he decided to give me a chance.”

“Oh God, kid, don’t call me that. My name’s Ted.”

As Peter listened to them talk, he laid his head on his brother’s chest, revelling in them all being alive. As sleep overtook him, the melodic harmonies of Ted’s heartbeat and the clock on the wall settled within him. A promise that they would make it through.

Thump-thump.

Tick. Tock.

#fanfic #hatchetfield #ted spankoffski #peter spankoffski #stephanie lauter #wiggog y'wrath #tnoy karaxis #grace chasity #max jagerman #hurt/comfort #nerdy prudes must die #but shove ted in there #hatchetverse #theyre so special to me #hatchetfield fic #the spankoffski bros #the lords in black #doing this instead of schoolwork

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viroman · 10 months ago

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Philip and Ed

Philip was proud of his family. The marriage of his parents was not only profitable, but also out of mutual love, which, by the way, was rare in modern realities. He had two older brothers, strong and caring, whom he certainly looked up to. And he was surrounded by three older sisters: everything was like choosing a beauty. Thanks to them, he learned to be polite and courteous, easily found a common language with ladies and felt confident among other knights.

His family is not very rich, but thanks to hard training and good home education, he received his rightful place. And not just anywhere, but in the elite squad of the Eckhart house, where he met Ed.

Philip never complained. Captain Derrick Eckhart was a difficult person, but with him issues were always resolved quickly and efficiently. Field assignments were not uncommon, and the knight repeatedly showed himself to be good, so when the squad was assembled, he was ready for any work.

Except this one.

Philip certainly did not expect to be ordered to guard the violent Lady Penelope. To be honest, he would rather go on the annual monster hunt than be here at this moment.

He saw the princess only a few times, but he could definitely tell that her look had changed. Beautiful turquoise eyes became more and more blue, causing goosebumps to run across the skin. She spoke in a quiet voice, but every word was saturated with poison. A little more, and the butler will be torn to pieces on the spot.

Philip tried to be polite and careful in his words: the girl was upset, she needed to calm down. However, no matter what the butler said, it completely infuriated the lady.

The butler asked them to stay outside the door so as not to aggravate the situation.

The next day it didn't get any better. It seemed that Penelope was one step away from simply spitting in their faces. The lady felt humiliated and took it out on those around her. Ed cursed quietly, promising to one day beat up the slave who started this whole mess. Philip definitely had no intention of stopping him.

They tried to be a shadow. Carefully following the princess, exhausted by hunger and a terrible sleep, both knights tried not to anger the noble lady again.

– Don’t let anyone in, – Penelope ordered, walking past the knights and hiding behind the greenhouse door. Ed quietly noted that she was still very annoyed by their presence, but she had clearly accepted it.

The only one who did not accept the Duke’s order to limit Penelope’s communication with anyone was, God forgive me, the Crown Prince.

– You didn’t understand the first time? Moved away from the door.

– Your Highness, we are only carrying out the order of the Du- Agh!

Although Philip was slightly taller than Callisto, the crown prince's experience and incredible physical strength made this fight completely unequal. Ed didn’t even have time to breathe before he lay down next to Philip, who was twisted in pain.

– Where has it been seen that the groom is forbidden to see the bride, eh? But she, by the way, is your future empress. So boys, next time think before you get in the way of the Crown Prince.

Philip's last thought was to resign. And then darkness covered him.

No one reprimanded them for failing to stop the crown prince. Nobody could do this. Judging by the number of bruises on the body, they were well kicked while he and Ed were unconscious. Derrick promised them paid time off.

Philip noticed how depressed Ed was.

– Why are you so worried?

– I didn’t know that our lady was engaged to the crown prince.

Philip just sighed. Ed had no chance against the crown prince, so so the guy should have just come to terms with the fact that their hot-tempered lady would leave the duchy with this psycho. As they say, there is a mate for every animal.

For such jokes, Philip almost lost his long hair.

#villains are destined to die #vadd #death is the only ending for a villainess #callisto regulus #единственный исход злодейки смерть #death is the only ending for the villain #death is the only ending for the villainess #vadtd #calliope #единственный конец злодейки смерть #penelope eckhart #callisto x penelope #penelope x callisto #Philip vadd #Ed vadd #derrick eckart

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sunny-mercya · 8 months ago

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His Reasons

Rusty Ryan x Male Reader

Fandom -> Ocean's Trilogy

Masterlist

When Danny, after being out of prison, asked Rusty to join him at a Grand Coup—Rusty had only agreed halfway to it. After all he wanted to know what exactly they would rob and risking their lives and freedom for.

And when Danny told him, they gonna rob three Casinos in good old Viva Las Vegas, Rusty wanted to know a good enough reason for him to join in such madness of nonsense.

And Danny, like the best friend and charming asshole he is, told Rusty the only valid reason;

»If we pull this off and I promise you, we will, you can finally move with [Name] to wherever your heart desires and afford the safety you have promised him.«

Danny was right, hitting a wound point in Rusty's ego, because there had been one thing Rusty couldn't give you and that was protection. Protection you from a past, you wouldn't be able to free yourself if you don't have a certain amount of money to pay for.

»Okay. I'm in, but if we fail I'm gonna send you personally to hell, Danny boy.«

Rusty might have agreed, trusting and believing in his friend that they will manage this with a 100 percentage chance of successful winning—but he also know what price it would cost him, because if they indeed fail it would be you who Rusty would lose and you're more worth to him than all the money and jewels in the world.

~~~

So far, the whole plan went, besides absolutely minor improvements of differences, hellbent well.

Rusty could almost imagine the millions, billions, of money he would have. Enough money to buy you free and finally move to either (f.country) or sweet California.

Just you and him, Rusty thought, imagining the new life—fully secure, comfortable and happy healthy—he would have with you and maybe a big family with lots of dogs and cats (and perhaps Danny, because he's your self-proclaimed older brother)

„Uh, uhm, Rusty there's–“ „Rusty, there's a problem. A You problem.“

»What?« asked Rusty, scrunching up his face in confusion. Another problem? What sort of you-problem do they mean?

„Look towards the entrance.“

»Fuck. Give me some minutes to handle this guys.«

»Robert Russel James Ryan! You do not write me a letter with such unbelievable heinous words and leave our house in such fucking manners. How fucking dare you! Do you know how fucking worried I was?!«

A few people had turned their heads, when you had marched forward to Rusty and shouted in anger at him.

Ouch, shouting his full name—yeah, you're furious and it was Rusty's own damn faulty mistake. Indeed a You-Problem.

Rusty took a few steps forward to you, having his hands up in surrender, wanting to appease you. Honestly, he haven't seen you this angry ever since Danny and him had a bloody fist fight with your "Boss", which they lost—of course, as they couldn't win against a knife and knuckleheads—and you were so furious with them, that they were taken back with the amount of cursing you said at them, while treating their wounds.

»Hey, love, watcha you doing here?«

»Don't come with such bullshit. You know perfectly well, why the fuck I'm here. So tell me now, Russel, the fuck are you and Danny—and I know that fucker is here as well—suspiciously planning to do here?!«

Rusty inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, trying to think of a way to get you away from here—before you causing more disturbance and a possible fail to the plan. Then again, he could use you for a good distraction, but no—no, no, he had sworn himself to not do such things with you.

Gripping your arms gently, Rusty pulls you close to his side and leads you away to a more secluded area of waiting.

~~~

Waking up to an empty bedside next to you and discovering your husband is not in your shared apartment, even though he told he would be on time back—and that has been days ago, I mind you—brought a lot of unpleasant thoughts through your mind.

There could be many things happening to Rusty; him having a accident, in a hospital and injured, arrested—your husband is certainly not a innocent man, he had done some bad and dangerous awful things of illegally, you're aware of it—or worst case scenario, your Boss quit the deal and killed Rusty.

You started to walk through your tiny apartment, still clothes in pyjamas—shorts and one of Rusty's oversized shirts—mind going haywire with everything and anything; be it the due bills, another round of grocery shopping—as Rusty is a total glutton and eats more than you and probably has an endless pit of a stomach—which you don't know how to pay for, the payment deal, Rusty being gone and probably killed and you still being jobless.

A lot of things for a tiny mind like yours to think about.

Then, while you cleaned, you found a note—definitely from Rusty and when you read it, you screamed in disbelief.

Yeah, sure, do a few days trip to Las Vegas and just don't tell me personally, not even the reasons for it—you thought, scoffing at your Husband, who's a buffoon

~~~

»Rusty, you tell me now why you and Danny are here.«

»I can't love, it's a surprise«

Perhaps, in perspective, Rusty should have told you personally about his little trip and possibly heist, but then it wouldn't be a surprise and loved to surprise you.

»Fuck your surprise. I thought he called off the deal, I thought he had killed you. I was worried sick.«

»I know, I know, dear. I apologise, I shouldn't have told you via note, could this prince forgive a humble man like me?«

Rusty leaned in closer, whispering the last few words in your ear as he ask for your forgiveness and kissing your cheek, when you remained silent.

„Not to bother, but time management?“

Rusty rolled his eyes, the guys could be such mood killers and a pain of annoyance in the ass. The gang was his gang though and he had a job to fulfil.

»Need to go, love. Meet me at Helios-Motel in like two hours.« Rusty kissed your lips, a gentle kiss it was and gave you the Motel-Keys.

Before Rusty could stand up and go, you had taken ahold of his hand.

»You promised me, you and Danny will be safe and unharmed?«

»Always, my love«

And when Rusty flashed you his signature grin, you let him go—knowing he wouldn't break his promise.

#male reader #x male reader #fanfiction #malereader #oneshot #xmalereader #rusty ryan #ocean's trilogy #ocean's eleven #rusty x male reader #rusty ryan x male reader #ocean's 11 #rusty ryan ocean's trilogy

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thesummerstorms · 1 month ago

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wottg next day thoughts/rambling under the cut

I may not really be the intended audience for Triple Goddess at this point.

My favorite of the OG books is The Last Olympian and I loved the tone the Trials of Apollo book, especially in the later half.

I thought Heroes of Olympus was inconsistent but one of my gripes with it was that Blood of Olympus failed to commit to the actual consequences of everything that had happened.

So almost everything about WOTTG moves in like...the complete opposite of the things I enjoy most from the other series. That is going to heavily skew my opinions.

That said:

who the fuck incapacitated Rick's editor????? I'm used to a measure of continuity errors but ... This book really needed more editing.

Son of Morpheus? Leo mentioned as alive pre his return in TOA?

I ended up somewhat enjoying Chalice because I felt like the juxtaposition of Ganymede against both Percy and the Olympians had some decent emotional pay off. I don't feel like I really got that from Gale, Hecate, or Hecuba despite there being the bones of something there.

I was reading tired so I may have just missed something, but I still do not understand why the baby hellhound barks sound like "nope"???

I like the baby hellhound in theory, though I thought it was awkwardly handled in places

I could have done with 1000% less pee jokes. Like why even?????????

At least Rick finally stated outright that Annabeth held the sky for longer than Percy and that she wasn't immediately blessed or rescued by Artemis like certain folks seem to enjoy arguing

Some nice world building with the cellphones. Like we knew, but it's nice to see it actually have at least a little bit of plot consequences for once, and the time testing Percy mentioned was both funny and interesting (in that we got an actual measurement of how long it would take monsters to try to eat Percy)

I don't buy Percy taking 5 years to notice Chiron's permanent injury and intense chronic pain. It's nice to have it in canon, but it would NOT take Percy 5 years.

Nico took Percy Christmas shopping in Florence????????????? Details please???

Annabeth's characterization felt ... Oversimplified? And I hated the constant self-put downs by Percy basically saying he needed her to think for him

You can't even say it's his self esteem because we really don't get anything in the narrative to challenge the self perception other than one kind of cliche convo with Annabeth and it doesn't... Don anything really?

Percy may not be book strong, but he is clever!! He is a strategist! Wth is with the lack of balance/the diminishing of his abilities to fit in the "smart girl/dumb boy" trope

I really want to like the moment with Percy and Annabeth holding the torches together. And I do mostly out of context.

The plot just feels sloppy honestly.

I may be in a minority here based on early posts I've seen, but I don't feel like Sally's past role adds to the story so much as is neutral or detract. I don't love it.

The nymphs would have been a good chance to revisit Sea of Monsters from an older Percy's POV especially since he and Annabeth have already learned how their actions affected Reyna. But that wasn't the angle that was taken at all!

Honestly so many of the problems, as with Blood of Olympus, stem from Rick's refusal to commit.

I do generally feel like Rick did an okay job balancing between protective Percy and Percy who respects Annabeth 's ability and doesn't try to stop her making decisions. So that's a plus

We almost got a decent moment of Percy having to deal with his anger and fear and it would have been a great moment to touch on his readjustment after two wars and Tartarus. But again. RR did not commit.

I just... Could not care about this plot. Chalice wasn't life or death either, but I think it had better focus and at least somewhat more emotional depth.

#wottg spoilers #rev reads wottg #somewhat negative #i do mention a few things I like #but they're outweighed by dislikes

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randomnameless · 1 year ago

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It's still wild to me that people will go to bat for the nothing characters that are Randolph and Fleche as proof of Dimitri being bad; we know next to nothing about them, they have miniscule screentime, what little we do know of Randolph paints him as human scum who'd do horrific things if it meant a chance at a promotion, and Fleche illogically only ever holds a grudge against someone for killing her brother if that someone is AM!Dimitri, with her completely vanishing from the game in every other route.

Eh,

I'd say they play the same purpose than this random child in TS in Roland's story - at this point, both lords want vengeance, and they have to face someone who also wants (misdirected!) vengeance at them, smth smthg like war sucks because people die.

But it's completely wasted in FE16, because, as you said, Randy isn't a random or a civilian or a war orphan, he is a general leading an attack on refugees/civilians/randoms to gain more fame, and dies in the process.

Now, can we say Flèche's anger and death are ultimately directed at Randolph, who died for nothing and took his sister down with him in his quest for "muhrit" ? Or are we supposed to think that this scene is important because Dimitri, the Blue Lord, isn't supposed to fall as low as the Imperial Army - something he comes close to (apparently?) ?

And yet again, it completely fails.

Because for one Randolph - who also had a family and loved ones - we have 50 Waldos and Baldis, whose lives aren't given any fuck about.

We don't see a war prisoner, or an Adrestian civilian accusing Supreme Leader of having sent her/his wife/husband/daughter/son to death with a conquest they never asked and trying to off her.

Only Dimitri receives this backlash from - invaders who wanted to invade and suddenly remember they have loved ones so are very sad when their loved ones dies - Flèche, but not Claude nor Billy, as you rightfully pointed out.

And Supreme Leader never receives any backlash - or wake up call - from a real third party/civilian/casualty who could have done the exact same thing.

Emile mentions how, during her attack, the Holy Grounds near Garreg Mach were turned in a slaughterhouse, why don't we have any civilian who survived from that try to take a jab at Supreme Leader? Waldi's best friend? Baldo's mother? A war captive from Leicester/Faerghus or a conscripted Adrestian?

I laughed about it with friends earlier, and again with the teatime paralogue, but it truly feels as if only 1/3rd (since the church doesn't count) of the cast will face consequences for the war and suffers backlash from the constant fighting (they didn't even start!).

Whenever you have to deal with serious stuff in Fodlan, it'll be for the BL members.

The rest? Will sip tea, talk nonsense, try to solve "mysteries" and live as if nothing is happening in the background.

Just imagine how both deer routes could have been much more impactful and interesting - instead of being a recycled Billy route with a different infodump at the end - if Raphael's sister popped up to a War Council, asking Claude to stop coddling the Empire because their lands were invaded, her grandfather put to Aymr and her inn destroyed by the Imperial Army, or how Ignatz's older brother discovers how Adrestia is burning pieces of art and history and every material related to Leicester and Faerghus history because they want to push an "Adrestia Eternal" narrative. Heck, Claude could even discover more "lore" by picking a Leif route, sort of rescuing the people "handpicked" to become new Baldos and Waldis, discovering the secret of the artificial crest stones and maybe having an infiltration map where, lo, instead of receiving an info dump, they maybe witness Rhea being turned in a relic or used to "produce" artificial crest stones.

War BaD, but only when we can make the BL suffer for it, for the rest, it's just a bgm.

And even then, it can't be too critical of Supreme Leader, because she was made to sell alts in FE heroes or dubious Cipher Cards.

"Supreme Leader", "cute girls" and "I want to see how Faerghus and its knights will deal with the aftermath of the Tragedy while defending against the invading forces".

Tl; dr : Flèche and Randolph are named, which is a cheap way to make people care for them despite their role in the plot, but the demonic beasts and the civilians dying aren't mentionned nor talked about.

Hell, why do you think I gave names to the artificial demonic beasts? The game doesn't want you to think too much about them, but if I talk about Baldo and Waldi, maybe the fandom will?

#anon #replies #cheap drama and cheap devices to make people feel something #and it's so painfully one sided again #this is how those damn games try to make people feel #'look dimitri bad he killed someone'#but no one will talk about the people dying to Supreme Leader?#they dont' have names so they're just concepts?#the death of one named person is more impactful than the death of hundreds of peons?#FE16 #I prefered how TS dealt with it to be honest

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baelpenrose · 4 months ago

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Nihilus Rex 29: Confessions, Part I: The Priest and the Sinner

Nils confronts his grief about Jessie, and grapples with his fading faith. This chapter, along with two others threaded throughout the story, are meant as critical character studies of who Nils is as a person, and while they are part of the larger story, the chapters titled "confessions" also function as a micro story unto themselves.

Beta-read and co-written by @canyouhearthelight.

For the life of me, I cannot remember

What made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise

For the life of me, I cannot believe

We'd ever die for these sins, we were merely freshmen

The Verve Pipe “Freshmen Song”

Nils

I was troubled when I went home. After Lash and I split, we agreed to call the next day and talk through some stuff, but I had promised my parents I’d call. And…I still needed to check in on Jessie’s family. I had been missing my every-other-week checkin for a while. Maybe a long while. Between Lash and everything else I’d been doing, it almost felt like….

Oh god, I don’t know if I’d checked since the heist.

So I went by their house, after buying flowers and ready to make all apologies. I knocked, slowly. “Mrs. Parson, it’s Nils. I’m…” I felt a wash of guilt. Why should they let me in? I’d all but forgotten them in my own grief and the madness that had followed it. “I’m sorry I left for a while. I got caught up in something. And I’m sorry for everything else. I should have been here sooner. I should have been with Jessie more.” The door was still closed.

I knocked again. “I don’t know if you’re even home. But I want you to know I’m sorry. I should have kept coming, way longer than I did.”

The door opened, and Mrs. Parson stood before me. Despite being slightly younger than my mother, she looked older. Her chronic illness, the marks of longtime working-class life, and the grief of her daughter’s death had taken their toll. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

I felt the words like a slap, but I took them. And I suddenly felt a flash of anger that always preceded things that shouldn’t be said, things that couldn’t be taken back. Jessie wouldn’t have wanted me to say the things I was going to say. Jessie had forgiven these people, wanted to take care of these people, would have wanted me to take care of these people, would be angry that I had failed to check in. I had already failed to deal with the student debts in time.

But Jessie wasn’t here and I was going to fail her again. All the things that we’d told each other, about mental health breakdowns, about crises of faith, about problems with parents…

“Speaking of people who shouldn’t have come back. How’s the stepson?”

Mrs. Parsons blanched. She’d remarried not long after Jessie’s father had walked out on her to the anger of the church, and found a new guy whose wife had died some years before. Jessie’s stepdad was actually a pretty standup guy - he’d fumbled once, in the immediate reaction of finding out about what his son had done, but even Jessie had believed in the aftermath that it was a matter of shock more than a matter of not believing her, and he had done more or less the right things once he’d gotten a chance to get his wits back. It didn’t change the fact that the initial failure, especially given that her mom had desperately been trying to play peacemaker, had definitely compounded the trauma. Her stepbrother, on the other hand, was an abusive jackass that Jessie had definitely been pressured to forgive a little too fast, and somewhere along my little revolution was going to be a bonus objective of ensuring he didn’t live to see the new world.

“Jessie forgave him.” She sounded half like she was trying to convince herself.

“Hm. Did she think she had a choice?” I knew the answer, I wondered if this woman did. Jessie thought she did, but that only forgiveness was the right one, because she had always believed, more fervently than I ever had, in the forgiveness of Christ. I also knew that the dissonance of that hadn’t helped her, had rattled her, had convinced her she was falling short if she was still angry.

And I was ready to bite, especially when Mrs. Parsons then pivoted. “And you? You’ve had choices recently. What’s your new girl’s name? Elakshi? The one you went on air with at the hospital? You moved on fast.”

I gaped. “Moving on fast…I mean, you want to talk about moving on, I probably shouldn’t have let it slide that you were so scared of your second husband moving on like the first at the first sign of trouble that you didn’t want Jessie talking about what your stepson was doing. Mind you, Mr. Parsons fucked up when he first found out, and as bad as it was even then he wound up doing the right thing once he’d taken a second. I can forgive shock a lot better than I can forgive forced martyrdom. Don’t talk to me about moving on from anything too fast when you weren’t willing to deal with something to begin with. You can call it the forgiveness of God all you want, but be real: you wanted to dodge the stigma of a second divorce. The fact that she dropped out of college to try to help you with your sickness is beyond me.” The snarl, the hate, the sudden surge of helpless rage I’d always felt at never quite being able to express what I’d wanted to to Jessie because she wouldn’t have heard it and it wouldn’t have helped, things I should have said but couldn’t, things I maybe should have said because they maybe could have helped, but now I’d never know…

She glared. “Jessie thought you loved her!”

“JESSIE AND I NEVER DATED!” I suddenly shouted. “NOT BECAUSE I DIDN’T WANT TO BUT BECAUSE SHE SAID SHE THOUGHT WE WERE BETTER OFF AS FRIENDS! I WASN’T MOVING ON FROM HER! WE WERE NEVER TOGETHER!”

“SHE LIED!” I paused at that, and she kept going. “She lied, Nils. She lied, because she knew that you were the kind of person to go all the way to the wall for something, for someone, and she also knew that if you two ever got together, you could get her to go with you.” Her voice grew quiet, but carried on, determined, and I almost strained to hear the cold drumbeat of words that left me numb. “And she knew that you wanted to go places, that you didn’t want to be stuck dealing with her family, or yours, or the church you’ve always wobbled on but that she always believed in, and knew that you would care about her but probably never actually be happy with her without one of you changing the other too much to recognize.” A sigh, and she rubbed her arms with her hands. “So she lied, and you didn’t recognize it enough to realize that she reciprocated how you felt. I had to watch you two pining for each other from the time you were little and then I watched the boy who comforted my daughter through all sorts of awful things I fucked up with and can never forgive myself for drop off the map weeks after she died.” Her voice shook before she steadied and continued, steely. “And then you showed up on TV with your new girlfriend. So don’t tell me how she felt forced to do anything because you were never able to figure out her feelings well enough to guess how her beliefs and feelings impacted what she did.”

She took the flowers from me while I was still reeling. “Thank you for the flowers. I’m sure Jessie would forgive you, and I have no doubt you’re doing something that would either thrill her or horrify her. That stunt at the hospital was enough of a hint. But I can’t forgive you for vanishing. And I understand if you can’t forgive how badly I did when she needed me. Don’t come by again.”

I nodded. “I understand. Oh, and as long as we’re being honest? Your hunch is right. If you have any affection for your stepson at all? Tell him that he should try to make sure I’m never reminded he exists. Jessie forgave him. I don’t. God bless you for whatever that is worth.”

I walked away, shaking, and took some breaths, slowly shaking, and the minute I was out of sight, around the corner, into my car, I closed the doors and started screaming. I pounded the steering wheel and howled for a second.

She’d loved me and I’d never known. I’d fucked it up. I had…Fuck. Fuck FUCK!

I drove to the church. It had been a long time since my last confession, since the funeral, but I could stand to speak to Father Rivera. He was the only one who did confessions this late, and the only priest in the diocese that I respected anyway. He’d done Last Rites at the funeral of a suicide because he thought it was the right thing to do. And…I had just made a deal with the devil.

First though. I called my mom. She’d always been the more devout of my parents.

“Hey mom. Confessional booth stuff is inadmissible in court of law, right?”

“That’s right, Nils, but…why?”

“Have some stuff I’d rather talk about with a priest.”

***

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been five months and two weeks since my last confession.”

“What do you have to repent of this time?”

“Before I answer, Father, may I ask something and be answered?”

“Yes.” Father Rivera sounded confused. I’d already looked up the answer to this, and asked my mother this, just to be sure. I wanted to ensure I could trust Rivera, though I was pretty sure he wouldn’t squeak, it was good to know that it would mean nothing if he did.

“Is what I say in here protected by the Seal of Confession, and are you bound by the sanctity of the sacraments to reveal nothing of what I say to anyone?”

“I can say nothing of what is said here to anyone provided that you are confessing sins you have already committed. If you confess a sin you are currently planning to commit, and thus are unrepentant of, that is not within the Seal of Confession.”

I thought about that. A tacit warning and an admission.

“Okay. Then I will say this. I have slain nine men. Six by mistake, three in retribution. I have stolen - but profited nothing, and I do not count the theft among my sins, because I believe the word of Christ argues that my actions there were in fact holy in nature. I have lied, and brought shame to the name of my father, but in so doing brought safety to the sick. I have sinned, sexually, beyond what we spoke of the last…every confession I’ve been in, actually.”

Father Rivera’s voice came across. “Stop, stop. Nils, you confessed something very, very serious, followed by something that I want to question, followed by something I already suspected and the whole city got without context, followed by something that I already knew because of the girl you appeared on local TV with and that I know you aren’t remotely repentant about because you confess some new sexual sin every time you do this.” He took a breath. “Also, Nils. You forget I was a young man for years before I took Holy Orders. You aren’t confessing on that last one, because I know you too well to think you’re repentant. You’re bragging. Stop.”

I took a breath. “Murder first, then?”

“Killing first. When you say you killed nine, six by mistake, three by retribution. How?”

“I manipulated people into situations where they’d be killed. Six of those were not deliberate - my design was not for them to die. Three, I deliberately got killed because they were involved in something that killed friends of mine.”

“You weren’t the one who killed them, though?”

“Not directly, but I can’t, philosophically, say politicians commit murder whether or not their hands are ever touched by blood and then deny my actions here were the same. Hands at the direction of my mind pulled the triggers, whether those hands were connected, physically, to my brain by my own nerves or simply by words and minds willing to trust me doesn’t absolve me, it just stains the people I used as catspaws - my guilt is increased, not decreased, at that point. I will confess to being a murderer, but not a hypocrite or a pharisee.”

“No, and that is honest - as you’ve always been, in your way. Do you repent of the killings?”

“Yes.”

“All of them? I know you, Nils. I didn’t have to ask for reasons beyond the ritual if you regretted and repented the ones you’d done accidentally, but I mean the people you got killed on purpose.”

“Yes, I do.” I lied. “I believed it was necessary, but it was wrong, and I rushed to it in wrath.” An advantage - now, Rivera would feel obligated not to tell anyone, even if he wound up being suspicious.

“I’m curious - what led to your belief it was necessary?”

“The three I did on purpose were the ones behind the firebombing of the cafe. I figured that out through deceptive means, ones that wouldn’t hold up in court, but ones that involved manipulating their allies into turning on them. There were friends of mine in the cafe. Ones who didn’t make it out.”

Rivera sighed. “Nils. It wasn’t yours to decide who should live and who should die.”

“I know. As I said, I was angry.”

“And the other six?”

“That ties into the theft. The one I don’t know was a sin.”

The voice took on an amused note. “Now I’m curious. Almost morbidly.”

“Is usury not still a sin? Did Christ not demand that debts be forgiven every seven years?”

A tone of comprehension crept into his voice. “Nils…are you saying…”

“I want it noted this time I am bragging less of the act itself than the skill it took to accomplish it.”

“I will take you at your word that that is not inconsiderable. I am still…Nils, my son. I want to confirm. The banks.”

“Yes.” A note of pride crept into my voice.

“Your actions with your father’s hospital were doing a good thing in a bad way, for Christ did heal the sick without indebting them. Your deceptions were sinful means - thou shalt not bear false witness. Your actions with the debts were forgery and theft on a massive scale, and yet they saved thousands of families, and it is…hard to proclaim that you have not, once again, done holy work by sinful means. The Jesuits would be impressed. I am not a Jesuit, I believe that the actions of flawed men that take the will of God into their own hands will often lead to dark places - the Church’s most harsh critics, not without reason, point to the Inquisition, the Crusades, the Residential Schools, all people who did what they thought was ‘God’s Will’ by evil means.”

“And yet, should the ends themselves not be considered? Should saving people in the here and now not weigh heavier than the imagined ideals of ‘God’s Will’ by people so corrupt they believed they were right to rape? To torture children? What was it Christ said of those who took to brutalizing children in his presence? Something about millstones and swimming? He took a whip to moneychangers, He never took a rod to a child, that was a Proverb - and not quoted from His word.”

“Of course, and the Proverb was supposed to refer to a shepherd's crook rather than a whipping rod anyway. And yet, the Great Commission - a point on which you and I have gone around a few times in your studies of history and philosophy - was from His word, and was how the worst of those justified their acts. But you’re too clever not to realize what you’re doing - your ends may be noble, but your means make use of the devil’s tools and those who do that will, by degrees, find themselves among his vassals before they realize they’ve lost their way.”

I didn’t agree with that, and wasn’t entirely certain my allegiance was to any particular higher power rather than an alliance of convenience with whichever one countenanced a victory over the horror I saw in this world. Then I remembered this was supposed to be a confession, and figured I should stop arguing - my goal was mostly to get things off my chest and keep from drawing too deep.

“As you say. Means aside, I believe that in the process of all that, I may have made something of a deal with a devil. There’s an associate of mine who I don’t like and don’t trust that I’ve been forced to work with, and I fear that much of my most important work will be stained by working with him. But…it was necessary to help those people.”

“Define ‘devil.”

“His every aspect is vile and his views on the world almost diametrically opposed to mine. What he calls justice, I call horror and what I call justice he would call perversion of nature.”

“How did you convince this man to collaborate with you?”

“For a day, we shared a common enemy.”

“Ah. Many such partnerships corrupt good men. And you say your means have no risk of corrupting what you intend?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have the doubts I do.”

I could hear Rivera folding his hands. “I see.”

I could feel Mrs. Parsons’ words weighing on me.

“And…” The words tumbled out. “I failed Jessie. I should have listened more carefully. She died because I didn’t pay close enough attention. It was my fault…”

“No. That I will not absolve you for, because that wasn’t. You didn’t know everything on her heart. She came to me regularly. That was not on you. There are others who should seek God’s forgiveness for that, and you have your sins to bear and repent, but that, Nils, THAT truly is not one of them.”

“Had I acted sooner, she wouldn’t have been crushed under so much debt.”

“And even if it was your responsibility to shatter the entire banking system to save a life, which it categorically is not, I will say that is NOT what pushed her over the edge. Not from everything she told me. That failure was more mine than yours. Nils.” His voice was strained. “Jessie’s death was not your fault. And if your war against the world’s economy is some act of penitent crusade because you believed you should have acted sooner, you should stop now, because all wars lead to men riding with demons, and yours is not necessary.”

I froze. Then I spoke. “I would like to repent now, Father. I’m done confessing for the day. Thank you for your guidance.”

“The forgiveness prayer, and then a full score Pater Nostrum and a dozen Ave Marias. The Rite of Penance again, the last one over the candle.” That last was unusual for Rivera, but I supposed I had just confessed to nine murders.

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen.”

He finished at the same time I did, then I went to the pews and silently spoke the other, ritual repetitions. Then, I headed to the altar, placed my hand over the candle, and silently chanted out the prayer of Penance, trying to ignore the pain, and slowly pulled my hand out of the heat as I finished. It had driven my anxiety up, and I hadn’t realized the impact it would have, to do that, after the fire in the cafe.

As I walked out of the church, I called my mother. “Yeah, Mom. I saw your other text. I probably should have…should have talked to you guys about her sooner. But yeah, uh…her and I are working together great. We met in class, but we’re kinda working together, on and off, on outside projects.”

“When do you want her to meet us, like formally?”

I froze. “Uh…I’ll talk to her, but I think she might be open to it? I had to meet hers, after all.”

“I’ll be there, Nils. Relax.”

I took a breath. “Okay.”

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #my writing #Nihilus Rex #Afterverse #modern dystopia #cyberpunk #traumatized characters #speculative fiction #original writing

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enchantedchocolatebars · 1 year ago

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Could you write a short/long story about how the events of Caleb's death could change?

Like, what if Philip, just before he killed him, broke down and all the emotions he had been bolting up for god knows how long, comes flooding out.

My theory is that Caleb left him when he was 6-7...

Not Repeating The Past

A simple introduction to his pregnant wife resulted in an argument that led to his younger brother revealing a deadly dagger he had concealed behind his back.

After failing an attack, he attempted to use a fire glyph, which resulted in an accidental, but catastrophic fire as the atmosphere burned bright with flames.

...

Caleb was frightened by the sight of his angry brother, who slowly approached him with his dagger in his dominant hand.

He took a step back. "Philip, wait!" He begged, holding out a hand as he held his carving knife in the other, trying not to cry.

"Let's talk about this, please! I don't wish to fight you nor do I want there to be any hatred between us!"

"I have nothing to conversate to you about," The brunette coldly responded as he continued to pursue the blonde.

Once he was close enough, he raised his dagger, ready to stab Caleb in the chest.

The tears the eldest struggled to hold back started to fall. "Philip, please, don't do this! Think about how this makes me feel! You're scaring me!"

"How you feel?" Philip lowered his knife. The anger he felt inside exploded as his blue eyes glowed with rage.

He directed a hand towards himself. "WHAT ABOUT HOW I FEEL!?" He roared, tightening his grip on his knife.

The sudden outburst catches Caleb off guard as Philip continues to shout, allowing his emotions to flood out at full force.

"I MISSED YOU, CALEB! I SPENT SO MUCH OF MY LIFE SEARCHING FOR YOU! THERE WERE TIMES WHERE I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD, ONLY TO FIND OUT YOU FORSOOK ME FOR A WITCH!"

Dropping to his knees, Philip broke down in tears. "Why is it always about how you feel?Don't my feelings matter too, Caleb?"

Caleb felt guilt gripping his heart as he watched Philip cry.

That was his baby brother, the one who he loved very much.

The one person he left behind in Gravesfield.

The one person who he let down with his impulsive actions.

Caleb tried to fix things the only way he knew how.

After tucking away his carving knife, he went over to Philip and wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly like he use to when they were children.

"Oh, Philip," he softly began with a whisper, feeling his brother tremble in his grasp. "Of course your feelings matter. I'll admit, I haven't been the best big brother. I made the decision to leave when you needed me the most." His tears began to reappear as he sniffled. "I understand you're deeply displeased with me, Philip, but could you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?"

Before Philip had the chance to speak, he was interrupted by a loud rumble from above.

As they gaze upward, the two brothers witness a giant stalactite descending toward them and gasp, squeezing their eyes shut as Caleb tries his best to shield Philip.

The dripstone is about to fall on them, but it magically disappears in thin air.

When Philip and Caleb open their eyes, they see that the cone-shaped rock is gone.

Upon looking to their right, they see Evelyn standing at the entrance of the cave, beckoning them to follow her.

Caleb stood as he took Philip's hand. "Come, along, Pip. Let's get going." He smiled as he said this, promising himself to be a better brother going forward.

But the younger merely refused to go, pulling away from his older sibling.

"No," he huffed, crossing his arms. "Leave me here, you're very proficient in doing that." His resentment was still evident as he sniffled.

"I might have left you before in the past," Caleb would confess, "But I refuse to make the same mistake twice."

"You promise?" Philip asked.

Caleb nods. "I do."

Believing that his brother would keep his word, Philip makes the decision to stand as he and Caleb rush towards Evelyn.

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axewchao · 1 year ago

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A recent ask got me thinking about references, and I could not, can't stress this enough, COULD NOT do anything other than work on this one ref for Real Worlder!Dal. Will probably end up doing Koopa!Dal next, if my itty bitty little pea brain refuses to let me focus on anything else =w=

~~~

Relaxed, patient, and observant, Dalex is more of a lover than a fighter, but that hasn't stopped him from becoming the third hero of the Mushroom Kingdom alongside Mario and Luigi. First arriving from the Real World at age 8, then returning again at age 15, he gained the title of "hero" after rescuing two children (whom he just so happened to be babysitting) that found their way to the Mushroom World and were captured by Bowser soon after.

Dalex tends to be very shy around new faces, often resorting to an old, ingrained habit of waiting to be spoken to instead of starting a conversation on his own. He starts with brief replies, becoming more expressive and talkative as time passes, but also tries to stay polite in order to avoid any verbal (or physical) aggression. Others consider Dalex a good listener and are more likely to discuss personal topics with him due to his gentle demeanor.

At heart, he's a caretaker, and prioritizes the wellbeing of those around him before himself, particularly when it comes to children. He’s highly attuned to the suffering and/or pain of people around him, and will instinctively want to ease or heal their pain however he can. Of course, he’s well aware of personal boundaries, so he won’t reach out towards a stranger or acquaintance as much as he would a dear friend, child, or family member. Even then, he doesn’t want to be a meddler, and will back off when asked. Should he fail or otherwise be unable to help when given the chance, he may take a little too much responsibility and self-deprecate as a result.

Dalex has a near-crippling phobia of losing his own temper or setting off someone else's, which took root after he violently attacked a school bully at age 12. Things like anger or envy is damn near deadly in his eyes, and considering that he managed to hospitalize someone as a lanky 12-year-old kid, there's no telling what he might be able to do now that he's naturally older and stronger at age 22, even if he doesn't include his Shade Sprite and paintbrush, both of which are magical artifacts. It takes a lot to actually make Dalex snap, but once he does, take cover.

Trivia

He was born with brown hair and brown eyes, but they both turned purple after his Shade Sprite appeared at age 4. It's still unknown how it appeared in the Real World or who might've given it to him. The color change is actually a harmless side-effect of being exposed to unfamiliar magic for a long period, rendered permanent because Dalex always had it on him.

His eyes lacking pupils is from his dad's side of the family. Everyone in the Rathmore bloodline can see 'something' that's normally hard or otherwise impossible to see. Dal's "special sight" is Pain Perception, as hinted above. He isn't aware of this and believes his eyes are duds.

The single earring he wears is also from his dad. Said father, Luka Rathmore, wears the other earring on his right ear.

Originally, his Soul Sphere was another gift from the same person that gave him his Shade Sprite, but I'm considering rewriting this part to say that it's actually from his mom, who may have one of her own. We'll see ;3c

Dalex is considered the arch nemesis of Ludwig Von Koopa, but this is mostly one-sided on Ludwig's end. When the Koopaling in question isn't actively trying to antagonize him, he's very cordial, even willing to work alongside or otherwise help Ludwig depending on the situation.

He likes writing in his spare time and often makes up short stories depending on what he's experienced recently. Also keeps a dream journal. And a regular journal. And some extra blank journals so he never runs out of paper.

He always cries when he gets angry.

#super mario #Real Worlder!Dal #Dalex Rathmore #also got rid of the blue fade in his hair #while coloring him in I came to realize that I just didn't like the way it looked on him anymore #it blended in with his soul sphere and just started looking kinda... off #we can save the blue for whatever outfit he wears from here on owo)b #axewchaoscribbles

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crescentblossom66 · 5 months ago

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Bond of the Beasts Chapter 17 (End of the first arc)

The moon slowly replaced the sun, its meager light, shining through the window in the kitchen, failing to illuminate the dark room. Contradictory to what one would expect, the kitchen wasn't devoid of people, not even now that it was nearing midnight, but every persons present, young or old, were so deep in thought that they paid it no mind that they were sitting in the dark. The only noises to be heard were a light tapping coming from the seasoned basilisk who hid an expression of anger and worry behind his eyes, and the light grinding of teeth coming from the wereowl to his right whose gaze showed a deep seated rage that overwhelmed the anxiety he felt.

The younger members of the household looked equally as distressed, the werewolf girl was acting much like the other werebeast, her ears twitching under her hood and her sharper nails scratching up the wood of the table. The changeling's colors once again switched to purple, now with a hint of red mixed in, not even she was save from the ire the group felt for the their enemies, the hunters. She looked over to her sister almost as if hoping that she could come up with something, anything that could help them safe the heart of the household.

Everyone flinched and got torn out of their thoughts by an exasperated and irritated grunt. “Arrg, I can't take this anymore! I'm going over there and beat the stuffing out of those jerks!” Mu leapt out of her chair, balled her hands to fists and was about to march to the door, yet a firm clawed hand stopped her. The golden eyes of the young girl showed betrayal as the one that hindered her was no other than the one she had assumed shared her opinion the most. The Conductor glared at her, his brow furrowed, his scowl even deeper than normal. “Let me go, old man!”

His hold on her arm only got firmer. “I understand that yer blood is boilin', lassie, trust me, so is mine. We cannae simply go over there though, they're expectin' us ta show up.” The child contemplated the words of her elder and shook her arm free with a huff, yet she sat back down, crossing her arms.

“What ARE we gonna do then?! We can't just sit here and do nothing!”

The basilisk took a deep breath, his tapping stopping briefly. “We can't leave Cookie there though, but we can't just go there. We need some kind of plan to attack them. Going by their large numbers, we'd need to distract them and draw them away from Cookie, but the chances are high that they'd harm her if we don't think things through.” He took a deep sigh. “It's simply hard to predict what they're going to do once we arrive.” The DJ could hear the young girl in red growl again, baring her teeth, but staying quiet before bursting out in anger yet again.

“Hattie, can't you do something with your fancy overpowered magic?!” The girl in question jolted, fumbling with the hem of her shirt a bit under the harsh gaze of the werewolf girl.

“I-I'm trying to think of something, but so far, I'm can't find a solution. I can't turn us invisible, that spell is too hard for me, and I also can't brainwash the guards...-”

She was interrupted again by the young girl slamming her fist on the table. “Tell me something you CAN do, stop being useless, you have freaking magic for Pete's sake!” Her outburst was followed by tears streaming down the blonde girl's face, she tried to hide them by turning away.

The DJ reached out for the hand of the lightly sobbing girl. “We'll find a way, darling, don't worry.” The strained smile that the older man forced onto his face at least caused Mu to nod and calm down slightly.

Bow put a hand on the shoulder of her sister, trying to reassure her that they all knew that she was trying her best, that they wouldn't expect her to conjure up a miracle. Bow's colors changed back to normal, as the girl tried her hardest to do what her new mentor had taught her, controlling her emotions to be brave and supportive. “Don't worry, Hattie, I'm sure that we can find a way, we just all need to think about this together.”

The wereowl's forced his anger back, trying to keep a level head for once. “Alright, we know that they're expectin' us, so a sneak attack is out fer good.”

“If only I could change myself into one of the hunters, I could at least get more information.” Bow lamented, sighing at her own lack of skill.

The DJ shook his head, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It's fine, darling. You're trying your best, we'll just have to find another way. I don't want to send a child into the heart of their base anyway.” It didn't really make Bow feel any better about herself, but she still appreciated the kindness. “The best way would be to separate them into groups and distract them to get Cookie to safety. The problem is...we lack the manpower for that.”

“We just have ta brute force our way then, no other option.” The wereowl lowered his head. “I ain't lettin' Cookie die, over me dead body.” He shook his head, a gloomy yet resolved look on his face.

“No offense to your fighting abilities, Conductor, but there's just too many enemies and it's not full moon. You'd be shot dead before you get anywhere near Cookie transformed, never even mind fighting them in your normal state. You and me can't take them all on.” The DJ sighed.

“Hang on, I'm going too, we'd have a way better chance with me going and fighting, I'm fast and I can kick their behinds!” Mu snapped out of her melancholic state upon realizing that she was excluded from the plan.

Both men gave her a serious look, understanding where the young werewolf was coming from, yet disapproving of her plan. “It's too dangerous, darling, we can't risk you, Bow and Hattie getting into that mess.”

“Fer once in me life, I agree with the dancin' eyesore. Ye ain't goin' lassie, donnae want ta endanger ye.”

“Oh no, gramps, I'll come along whether you want me to or not! If you don't take me with you, I'll sneak out and follow regardless!” The young werewolf glared at her mentor who glared back at having his authority be challenged by the girl.

“I agree with Mu, I think we should all go. I understand that you are worried that Mu, Bow and I get hurt, but what if you die? There's a high chance if you go alone.” Bow flinched at the word 'die' and had a hard time keeping her skin from changing to purple again. “We'd be...all alone again.” Hattie lowered her head, even Mu decided to calm down slightly after seeing that Conductor's glare softened a bit. “I could use my magic to make a loud noise outside the restaurant, that should flush out a few of the hunters to check up on the surroundings. We could go and lose them in the forest while another group sneaks inside the hideout to confront their leader...The only issue is that a few might stay behind and that we don't have a way to secure Cookie's safety.”

The silence that followed was interrupted by a deep sigh from the DJ. “There really is no easy way for us to get to Cookie without endangering her, is there?” He sighed.

The old wereowl growled, and got up in one swift motion. He wasn't just going to let Cookie die by being idle! “Grooves, ye stay here with the lassies. I'll go by me lonesome. Yer in charge if I donnae return.” The little werewolf girl looked up at him with surprise.

“Hey! We just said that even you and Grooves going is going to end poorly, you can't be serious, gra-” She spread her arms out in front of the Conductor to stop him which only resulted in him picked her up by her shirt and placing her down behind himself, causing her to fall to the floor with a thud as she lost her footing, not expecting him to do that. “Are you serious! You call me out when I want to head over there to save her, but when you want to just storm out into enemy territory it's alright? What kind of hypocrisy is that?!” She got up and balled her hands to fist. He mumbled something quietly, just enough for Bow, who was the closest to the door to hear. “I ain't a young lass, I ain't got much ta lose in life.” Bow was about to question what he meant, but was pushed aside as the DJ came out from behind the table, grabbing the smaller man by his shoulder.

“Don't be absurd! You'll only get killed, darling! Don't be an idiot!” His hand got flung back as the blonde man simply swiped it off and headed to the door.

“I'll show these bastards what their dealin' with! Now they'll have ta deal with an angry wereowl!” When he was about to open the door, a purple wall of energy made him unable to get the door handle. When he turned he could see the vampire's eerie piercing yellow eyes in the dark of the hallway upstairs.

“And they shall get the wereowl, their leader at least will.”

It was a hastily put together plan, but considering the few people they had and that they were greatly outnumbered and didn't have much time, it was the best they could come up with.

“Hope you're ready, kid, you and I'll have to fight a lot of hunters. Now you can show that you figured out how to conjure up a nice shield.” The vampire, looked down the young sorceress who just nodded her head, determined to be of use this time.

“Don't forget about me! I'll mess these bad guys up good.” The red hooded girl looked particularly vicious baring her sharp canines even if they were still quite far away from the HQ.

Bow looked equally as determined, her gaze fixed on the path ahead, her hands balled to fists. “We'll make sure that these hunters will be away from you, you just have to hurry and get it done.” She looked up at the DJ who would help set up the initial distraction, he nodded solemnly.

With heavy steps, the wereowl was walking ahead of all of them before the vampire stopped him. “I kinda need you in the back for this plan, fossil. You'll go around that morbid eatery turned hunter club.”

The man in question scoffed, wanting to protest, but then realized something. “A pincer attack, eh? Nae a bad idea, blood sucker. What made ye actually give a damn 'bout the woman that is too nice fer her own good? Finally feelin' guilt?”

“You're really irritating, you know that?-” Snatcher rolled his eyes. “-I simply realized that finding another witch might be harder than I thought at first.” It was clear that the older man wasn't buying that, but he only scoffed.

“This plan o' yers better be a good one. If ye get any of the lassies harmed, I'll break all yer undead bones and grind 'em inta dust.” Slowing his steps down, the wereowl soon was behind the others and split off after as the purple haired man intended.

They soon reached the guarded restaurant, Bow- and Hat Kid peeked through the bushes at the edge of the treeline with Mu hiding right behind them and the other two men with them bending down to not draw attention to them. The building was pretty massive, standing right at the entrance of the town, which was actually a blessing as that meant that their little stunt wouldn't draw too much attention. Not that it mattered all that much as the citizens of the town would go to the hunters anyway if they needed defense from werebeasts, so at the worst, they had a mild panic to worry about. For a restaurant, the building looked a bit unspectacular, the red paint on the walls was slowly being chipped away by time and weather and the neon sign that read “La Santa Trota” in a less than illegible fond, was flickering on and off. It was strange to imagine that this horribly rundown restaurant served the best food in a twenty mile radius, all due to Cookie's incredible culinary skills.

“That's quite a lot of guards.” Hat Kid whispered, keeping watch on the armed men outside. In the distance, she could see the Conductor sneak around toward the back of the restaurant. She readied a spell to conjure up a small thundercloud that would emit one lightning bolt and a loud thunder to get the attention of the initial hunters that were around the entrance.

“Alright, just run back to the car once you have their attention. I won't be able to focus my magic on making their weapons malfunction forever, or the rest of us will be in trouble.” Snatcher explained, looking over at Bow and DJ Grooves who were preparing to start the plan, walking away around 200 meters (220 yards) to the right, while the other three went as low to the ground as possible. A loud growl and a bright flashing light made the hunters turn their heads to the treeline. As they were already expecting the werebeasts, the men quickly hollered for reinforcements from the inside that swiftly came.

Around 20 men started to dash into the forest. “Werebeasts are trying to hide in forest, Hunters will give chase!” The moment they made direct visual contact with the two creatures that tried to run away from them, one of them raised his gun with sleeping darts, aiming at the fleeing basilisk, only to realize that his gun refused to fire, thanks to a strange purple energy near the trigger. “What is this? Hunter can't shoot weapon!”

In the meantime, Hattie, Muriel and Snatcher made their way toward the front door, several hunters came their way, firing bullets, the first was stopped by Mu who took the initiative and charged at the first hunter she could see while growling and scratching. Of course the other men didn't stand idly by and aimed and attacked, finding the same issue that their comrades already encountered. Hattie focused her magic, creating a fireballs to attack the hunters, aiming at legs and arms. “Take this!” The attacks, though a bit unsteady and unfocused still due to Hattie's inexperience, proved to be enough to cause the first few hunters to get burned, making them drop their weapons. Hattie's euphoria over a spell cast right was short lived when a hunter shrugged off the burn that had inflicted his arm and grabbed her with the uninjured one, lifting her off the ground.

“Girl can't cast magic if girl is unable to move.” The girl struggled in the strong men's grip, trying to break free, while being to unfocused to use any spell in that situation. With his energy concentrated on the energy walls on the weapons of the hunters that were still in hot pursuit of Bow and DJ Grooves, Snatcher hardly had the energy to use much of his magic to fight. Both him and Hat Kid were relieved when Mu once again decided to show her wrath for the magical beast hunters, biting the man right were he got burned previously. It caused the hunter to drop the young sorceress who then got up and focused her energy once again, this time on a strong wind that caused their adversaries to lose consciousness as they hit the wall.

As the three continued on carefully, they came to door in the back. Hattie prepared her magic, ready for the door to open and the hunters to ambush them. Mu bared her teeth, about to just kick the the door open when the purple haired man pushed her to the side. With great caution and a near silent creak, he pushed the door handle down and cracked the door open. Only to immediately be hit by something flying toward him before he could even remotely grasp the situation. “Do you like my anti magic dart, vampire?” Now it made sense why he seemingly lost all power. The tall man grit his teeth, trying to think of a solution to their now imminent problem. With him down for the count magic wise, they'd have trouble fighting and the room was full of Mafia members that could now use their weapons, Cookie was tied to a chair, likely as a hostage. The red haired woman looked both ashamed and worried, most certainly blaming only herself for the grave circumstances. The situation was truly dire.

Her lungs were on fire and she begged her legs not to trip over any root or stone as she and the basilisk ran for their lives. She could do it, it wasn't far now and the men couldn't use their guns now. They were nearly at the shiny, now a bit stained and dirty red car that was owned by the DJ, when a loud shot rang out, the dart with paralyzing agent embedding itself in the tree right next to Bow. The girl shrieked in horror, increasing her speed, focusing on the car to have a goal and not be overwhelmed by her fear. With the very same goal in mind, the DJ ran, keeping an eye on the girl that he pulled forward by her hand and guided in front of himself after noticing the shot, wondering why, oh why he hadn't changed his shoes. Running in his stylish plateau shoes was cumbersome and risky, but he had completely forgotten to change them and was now paying the price. They could make it, just a bit more and they'd be safe! He'd just get in the car and floor it, driving away at the speed of ligh-...

His eyes widened when Bow tripped and he stopped. “Bow!” He pulled her back to her feet, but there was no longer any time to run away. The changeling girl was scared as the hunters approached, her thoughts immediately circling back to the labs, the horrible smell of disinfectant, the fluorescent lights, the sting of syringes that pricked her skin...Her breathing rapidly turned into frantic panting. The closer the men came the worse she was shaking..until a familiar phrase she heard recently came back into her mind. 'Control that fear, don't let it dominate you, acknowledge it, but don't let it run rampant.' The purple that usually dominated her skin tone when scared turned back to normal, as she turned to the basilisk to focus on his emotions as she had done with Empress, and once again her skin turned to a reflective surface. It gave her an idea. She looked down at herself until the DJ was reflected on her skin. “Grooves, pull your glaces down, I'll close my eyes!”

Seeing that the group of hunters wasn't focused on him, he quickly understood what she was trying to do after he got startled by her sudden order. He slowly pulled down his star-shaped shades that were more like a visor around his eyes, normally protecting those he looked at from their deadliness. The piercing green, reptilian eyes reflected upon Bow's mirroring skin, causing the men to stop. Their mouths were wide open as were their eyes. The split second that it took for them to realize what was happening, and the time that was needed for the basilisk's magic to take effect, leaving them in that state. The ferocious and dangerous hunters, now reduced to immobile statues one would find in a park. Their bodies turned to stone, their weapons the only things that retained their previous material.

“You can open your eyes again, darling.” Bow looked at the hunters that had nearly reached her, every single one of them rendered harmless by the horrifying eyes of the basilisk that were so much unlike the man himself who was rather pleasant. When she turned, Bow got embraced and almost crushed in his hug. “That was an amazing idea, darling! That's what I call dazzling teamwork!” Bow smiled, proud of her achievement, but it wasn't for long as she recalled that her sister and the others could still be in danger.

The vampire girt his teeth, he should have seen something like this coming. An anti magic dart...what more could these demented labs come up with?! He had to come up with something and pronto! The leader of the hunters laughed rather obnoxiously, clearly taunting the four magical beings in the room. “It's rather cumbersome when you can't rely on your magic, eh, vampire? Thank you for following my invitation to your own demise.” The man in the red jacket, smirked as he pulled out to dual revolvers pointing them at the three.

Cookie, who was bound to the chair lifted her head, she had been crying before and looked absolutely miserable even her voice was quiet and shaky. “I'm sorry. You should have never come to try and safe me. I failed all of you...”

“Nonsense! We'll find a way out of this! You helped me when no one else did, I couldn't never abandon you!” Mu exclaimed in anger that the witch could even think such terrible things. She was about to storm at the leader of the hunters, not realizing in her wrath that he had pointed both guns at her. She only realized when a shot got fired and she snapped her eyes shut. The werewolf girl expected an intense amount of pain, but...oddly she felt nothing. Was she dead? She opened her eyes only to find a shield around her.

“No you won't, I won't let you hurt more people!” It was Hattie! All the practice for the shield spell paid of in a glorious fashion as it enveloped her, Snatcher, Cookie and Mu.

Riccardo was rather impressed and looked taken aback by the sudden protective shields around his enemies. It wasn't for long however as he quickly pulled out another anti magic dart, but before he could aim at Hattie, something grabbed him by the arm rather violently. Thanks to his lightning fast reactions, he managed to pull his other weapon around and shot whoever it was who had attacked him. His smugness was replaced by boiling anger when he saw what he had shot, a wereowl! He could recognize him as such even untransformed. “You'll regret making an enemy of me, wereowl!”

The Conductor pulled his hand to the area the bullet hit for a brief moment. It had hit right under his chest, a normal human would have been crippled by such a shot, but he shrugged the pain off. Not giving his opponent the satisfaction. “Let's see who'll regret makin' an enemy of whom, laddie.” He charged at the man, who was only a tad taller than him, taking a shot that was aimed at his heart to the lung instead. It hurt like hell, he couldn't deny that, but he wasn't about to let that brainless, moronic peck neck go. Not after he kidnapped Cookie.

As the two short men were tussling, the vampire, tried hard to aid Mu who had to fight against the remaining hunters that were now trying to attack the Conductor to help their leader. He was still too weak, so he only had one idea. He focused his tiny amount of magic to make a small cut to Cookie's rope, hoping that she had more luck in helping than him. With her arms now free, the first thing she did was make sure that the hunters couldn't use their rifles, turning them into pool noodles instead. The second thing she did was glue the hunters together so they could no longer fight. It cost her all her energy as she had been afflicted with the anti magic serum too. Her focus was now on the fight between Conductor and the boss of the hunters. She hoped that the Conductor could handle this by himeself.

The wereowl had managed to disarm the other man, who countered by punching him right in the face. “Is that all ye got, lad? A wee punch nae stronger when me granny's?” he wiped the blood of his face as the punch connected with his lip, making it bleed. With an angry yell, Riccardo channeled all his rage into a fierce blow...that never reached its destination as his opponent easily caught his fist, holding him by the wrist. The man in red panted in rage, his face turning more and more red the longer he looked at the purple eyes of the wereowl. He didn't need to hear the words that a member of his most hated magical beast species told him. He already knew it in that moment. “Ye lost, lad. It's over.”

The group of five made their way out of the restaurant. Hattie used her magic to make a rope, which she barely was able to do. It was used to tie up the leader of the hunters who was oddly quiet as the vampire, now with a bit more of his magic back, made the man float next to him. She shuffled behind the group, feeling tired. The normally not so observant werewolf noticed and stopped making faces to taunt the captive man, she slowed down her pace to match Hattie's. “Uh...I wanted to say thanks...You really saved my hide back there.” She looked away embarrassed, not liking to admit that the young sorcerer had been really nice, especially after her own behavior toward the girl was rather rude.

“It's okay, I only did what was right.” Mu grabbed Hattie's hand to lead her forward, pulling her along like she did with Bow.

“Come on, we won! Don't fall asleep, we have to celebrate!” They walked by the wounded wereowl who was being supported by Cookie.

“They didnae harm ye, did they? I swear I'll tear them up if they have.” He glared but winced when she continued to use her magic to heal him.

“I'm fine, sweetie, you don't have to worry about me. You only got hurt because of me, especially after you tried to stop me...I'm sor-”

“Don't ye DARE tell me yer sorry! Yer safe, that's all that matters ta me! Ow!” A particularly strong wave of pain caused him to yelp as she removed the bullet near his lung. Cookie looked a bit relieved when he didn't choke. It was truly lucky that he was a werebeast, a normal human would have never survived a shot in the lung. Still not feeling happy with the results of the day, she looked rather down, but felt an odd sense of calmness when the man next to her placed an arm around her shoulder for comfort. “Everyone makes mistakes, lass. Ye meant well.” The soft tone in which the normally so rough man had told her that, caused her to blush slightly.

“Thank you, Conductor, truly.”

“Are you all done with the sappy stuff now? I'm getting a headache listening to that nonsense.” The vampire rolled his eyes and finally spotted Bow and the DJ rushing down to meet them.

“You did it!” Bow nearly tackled both Mu and Hattie to the ground, crying a little from worry and happiness. “I'm so glad you're safe. I was worried.” She hugged both of them, with Mu trying to escape the awkward hug and Hattie being too tired to respond with anything other than a small smile.

“So yer still alive, eh, Grooves? Bummer.” The wereowl gave a snarky smirk at the basilisk who only gave one of his signature friendly smiles in return.

The DJ was happy to see Cookie back safe and sound. “So are you, although, you added another few ugly scars to your appearance, darling. Very unsightly.” The wereowl growled in response. “Good to see you back, Cookie, I'm sure that you're tired after your harrowing, unwilling stay at your workplace.” She nodded with a sigh.

Mu turned to walk backwards, looking at Conductor and Cookie. “What's gonna happen to that place anyway? Are we going to enslave the rest of the hunters?” She looked almost too excited at that idea.

Cookie shook her head slowly. “No, sweetie, I'll take over as the head chef. With their leader out of commission, they're like headless chicken, just flailing about. I'm sure I can teach them that not all magical creatures are bad.”

The girl stumbled and crashed into Hattie who would have fallen had Bow not held her hand and kept her steady. “WHAT!? You want to keep these guys around! The same men that chased us all down!” The look of betrayal was etched into her face.

“We're not better than them if we take revenge for them hurting us. The goal is to coexist with regular humans, not try to harm them.” Cookie knew it would be hard for the girl to understand. Maybe she wouldn't understand at all, given how much the hunters took away from her.

Bow noticed that her friend started to cry, but not from sadness, more from her anger. She went to hold her hand as well as Hattie's, giving Mu a smile which wasn't reciprocated. Instead she could only hear a soft mumble, “I will not forgive them. I'll NEVER forgive them...”

The DJ went to his car to drive it back while the others walked the way in silence. They had won the battle, but it still felt like the war was never ending.

#ahit monster au #ahit bond of the beasts #ahit fanfic #ahit hat kid #ahit bow kid #ahit dj grooves #ahit snatcher #ahit conductor #ahit cooking cat #ahit mustache girl

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clanofjones · 1 year ago

Text

Ghosts of Our Days: Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: Fire in a Denny's Parking Lot at Three AM

<- Chapter Twelve

A/N: Once again, co-written with @theosb0rnway! I had a lot of fun with this one!

Four Months Earlier

Taking a laser shot to the leg was not what Casey Jones had in mind when Raph suggested "a peaceful Sunday in the lair".

At first, it had been a peaceful Sunday: Crognard, splitting a pizza, then Leo came in saying Donnie had found a group of Kraang a little too close to the lair for comfort. Leo, Casey, April, and Raph suited up and headed into the tunnels to fight off the unwelcome disturbance, an easy task until they were ambushed from behind by yet another group of Kraang bots.

Before he was able to turn around, a laser hit Casey directly in the back of the leg, just above where her skate was when it was retracted.

"FUCK!" He used her hockey stick to keep from falling over, spinning around and continuing to block shots despite the searing pain from his leg. Raph noticed immediately, running over to

Casey's side and stabbing every Kraang bot he saw with his sai. Casey made a mental note to piss Raph off more, as his anger doubled at making him extremely hot, in Casey’s not so humble opinion, and the bots no longer stood any chance against him.

Within a few minutes, they were all destroyed, and Raph, not wasting any time, picked Casey up in his arms bridal style, running him back to the lair without saying a word. April and Leo looked at each other, concerned. A quiet, angry Raph would not be fun to deal with later.

In the end, Casey was fine, and in typical Casey fashion, he was ready to stand up and fight just seconds after Donnie wrapped up her leg.

"See? Look! I'm fine! Casey Jones can fight off some more evil bo- WOAH!"

Her leg gave out, sending him tumbling to the ground face first. Raph was quick to help him up, glaring at Donnie who was failing miserably at hiding his laughter.

"Casey, you're not going anywhere until this heals up! Face it, you can't do anything with this 'cept REST."

"This stinks! How am I sposed to play hockey with this? If I don't show up they'll cut me or put some other loser on as Captain while I'm gone!"

"Then I'll grab your school stuff and you can send the coach an email saying you basically can't move your whole leg for a week. I think he'll get it."

"I'll help with the excuse!" April chimed in. "I'm really good at those by now." Casey smiled and nodded.

"Thanks, Red! Any help Casey Jones can get, she'll take it!"

Was it just an excuse for April to spend time with Casey? Maybe. Was it also a way to make sure no one saw the laser mark on his leg? That was a more accurate answer, if anyone asked April why she took an hour of her day to help write one email to a hockey coach she had never met.

"That CAN'T be your coach's real last name."

"Yup! That's him!"

"Oh my god. He so got bullied in high school."

"Can't be worse than the old coach. His name was Coach Savage.”

"But Coach..." April willed herself not to burst out laughing in front of Casey. "Coach Shmuck? Seriously? That's so bad it's GOT to be fake!"

"At least he doesn't live up to his name!"

"Did the old coach?"

"Nah, he was the chillest guy I've ever seen."

"Huh."

And the conversation ended, April trying to kickstart it again several more times only to fail when Casey either nodded or fell asleep, exhausted most likely from all the pain medication and brain power she used to pull his grades up.

Since Casey was grounded to the lair, that meant April could easily help him catch up on his school work and turn his nasty Fs into shiny Bs and As. For once, things were looking up for the vigilante, despite her new injury and missing a week of the sport that could be considered her life.

When Raph suggested they spend an afternoon in bed, the older boy thought she must have been dreaming. First an A on a math test, then finding out his father would be nowhere around New York for a week, then her lover wanting to screw him senseless? Casey wondered how things ever got this good for her.

Forty minutes and one obscenely perfect love-making session later, he was still wondering the same thing until a sharp pain drew her out of his thoughts. The pain didn't come from his leg, but from Raph, still very much inside of him, jerking up every so often.

"Stop movin', will ya? I can feel you every time you do."

"Sorry. It's hard not to."

"Hard? Seriously?"

"Shut up, Jones."

"Wanna go again?"

"Maybe."

"How long you got?" Raph looked over at his broken, glitchy alarm clock and groaned.

"10 minutes."

"Shit."

"Yeah, that's not long enough." He sank back down on top of Casey, making sure he didn't accidentally hit his lover's broken leg in the process.

"Can you just... not go?"

"Case, you know Leo wants us all together for some stupid family patrol night, I can't just stay here and do nothing."

"Just tell Leo my leg's acting up and that you need to stay with me cause you're a good boyfriend! That'll work!"

"Alright... but if we go again, you're not moving this time. Don't wanna actually fuck up your leg." Casey sighed.

"Fiiiine. Text Leo first though. Don't want Fearless Leader to think you're bailing on him for no reason."

"I will, don't worry 'bout it. Just relax and hang on a minute, babe. You deserve it."

"What I DESERVE is you makin' me see stars again!"

"Then hold on for five fuckin' seconds!"

"More like five not-fuckin' seconds," Casey grumbled.

"Goddamnit, Jones! You're gonna be the death of me, I swear!" Casey just laughed.

Leo thought the excuse was the cutest thing he'd ever heard coming from the tough, strong, macho man Raphael and told him to take as long as he needed.

Oh, Raph would be taking a LONG time to do what he needed to do, and Casey Jones would not be arguing about it.

Thank the Supreme Pizza in the sky that no one else was home that night.

It was late when the rest of the gang returned, as April had offered to go in Raph's place. She walked down the hall where the bedrooms were, knocking on the door to Raph and Casey's shared bedroom.

"It's open!" She heard Raph's voice say quietly. She walked in to see them both in bed, the blanket wrapped over their bodies as Casey slept on Raph's plastron. Raph's hands were in her hair, playing with it as she let out light snores into his chest. April almost felt bad about walking in on them like this, so peaceful and clearly sharing a moment with each other, even if Casey was asleep.

"Sorry, I'll come back later-”

"You can stay, Casey's not gonna wake up any time soon. How'd it go out there?"

"Went well!" April smiled, "Pretty empty night, just a couple thieves here and there. Nothing we couldn't handle!"

"That's good to hear. Sorry about ditching, she wanted me to stay." He gestured down at the motionless vigilante.

"How is she?" April looked concerned, to her seeing Casey sleep was a sign that something was definitely wrong.

"She's doing alright, just wanted me around tonight. He hasn't slept in so long with all the shit going on topside."

"Raph-"

"Come on, April. If Splinter doesn't hear it, I don't care what I say. All that matters right now is making sure that Casey recovers." April nodded.

"Do you have to take him back up tonight?"

"No, thank fuck." He got another glare from April.

"His lousy father's out of town for a week, coincidence, so I was actually gonna bring Angel down here until he gets back. I know Casey won't wanna go back home with all this goin' on. But I can't do that right now, as you can see." He gestured to the vigilante on top of him, who he clearly did not want to disturb at any point during the night.

"Want me to go get her?"

"That would be AWESOME. Get me more good boyfriend points, and maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get another round in." He winked and April facepalmed.

"Ew! You guys are so gross sometimes!" He laughed, trying to be quiet.

"Hey, April?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't bring her in here, alright? Casey might forget she doesn't have clothes on and we don't need that." April shuddered. That was a thought she did not need in her mind. The funniest part of all was that despite her dating Casey for a month, she'd never seen him naked, or even with her shirt off. Back then, she would have loved to see it, maybe, but now that was not a good idea at all. She had Donnie, and that was good enough, right? Donnie. Donnie!

That's it!

Maybe if she introduced Angel to Donnie, Donnie and Casey might start to get along!

"Okay. I'll show her Donnie's lab, maybe he'll like her and talk to her about his experiments!"

"She's six!"

"So? Six-year-olds can like science too, Raph!"

"But not Donnie-science!" She sighed.

"I'll be back soon, alright? Tell Casey I hope she feels better."

"I will. Thanks, April."

"No problem!" She walked out and closed the door, leaving Raph to focus all his attention back on the man he loved.

"You're a mess, Casey Jones, but you're my mess. Not that I'd ever tell ya' that when you're awake."

He kissed the top of his head and moved his hand to rub slow, soft circles into her back. He wished they could stay like this forever, relaxed, happy, not being chased by villains or dealing with their respective families.

For now, he would enjoy the moment, enjoy Casey being all sprawled out under the covers, the two of them still stuck together and Raph refused to pull out or move. Life was always better with Casey Jones by his side, he thought to himself. Nothing could beat his lover, as strange as he was sometimes. That's what Raph loved most about her.

Present Day

Any evidence of Casey Jones having a pizza was gone within half an hour, the vigilante scarfing down each piece while Raph watched, his face a mix of horror, disgust, and pride. When he was done, she let out a burp that could rival Mikey’s, the younger boy cringing so hard that Casey actually noticed it.

"What?"

"The whole goal of a SECRET hideout is to keep it SECRET, Casey!"

"It was just a burp, Raph!"

"A loud one."

"No one's gonna find us, okay? The pigs have more important things to do than catch one lone vigilante who killed ONE of their guys. And the turtles don't even think it's me, they all think I'm some kinda lame imposter or somethin’!" Raph looked skeptical, but eventually, he nodded.

"You're right, but just... be careful, Casey. You know what careful means, right?" Casey scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I know what careful means, Raphie! I passed kindergarten!"

"Just makin' sure." They smiled at each other, Raph draping his arm around Casey's shoulders as they leaned in for a surprisingly not awkward couch kiss.

It was long, soft, and tasted a lot like cheese and fish, but neither cared, taking their time in another rare moment of quiet. After they broke off the kiss, that was when things got awkward. They both just sat there on the couch, bouncing their legs up and down trying to figure out what to say next or what to do next. Raph beat Casey to it, stuttering out

"S-So... uh, do you have a favorite hockey team?"

That got Casey's attention, and he was surprised in all their time together that Raph had never really asked. Casey thought he had, but then again, his memory was shit and so was her boyfriend's. If they'd had the conversation before, who's to say?

"The Vikings- my team, not the football one, duh, and uhhh... Florida Panthers!" Raph looked confused.

"Why the Florida Panthers? We live in New York!"

"Scott Mellanby, man! Ya ever heard of the Rat Trick?"

"The WHAT??" Raph knew next to nothing about hockey, but he sure knew a lot about rats from his father.

"Yeah, dude! The Rat Trick! Ah, that was a classic!"

"Casey Jones, you're a fuckin' weirdo."

"But I'm your weirdo, right Raphie?" She bumped him with his arm, causing Raph to let out a chuckle.

"Hell yeah, you are. So what's the Rat Trick anyways?" Casey paused for a second and thought, ultimately deciding it didn't need to be shared.

"...Ya' know what, you don't wanna know."

"Alright.." Raph almost sounded... disappointed? Disappointed about not hearing a hockey fact? That wasn't the Raph Casey knew!

They fell into silence again, but not as awkward this time with Casey successfully grabbing Raph's tangible hand and rubbing his thumb over the top of it. They stayed like that for a while until Casey sneezed so hard that she looked like he was headbanging. Her helmet flew all the way across the room, landing right next to the freezer.

The duo stared in stock for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Dude! That was so fuckin' loud, yo!"

"I'm surprised the wall didn't come down with that thing! You could use that as a weapon, Jones!"

"Oh! Oh! Oh! It could be the Supersonic Sneeze!" Both of them started giggling again, collapsing against one another and not letting go until Raph couldn’t hold his solid form anymore. Casey fell through his boyfriend with a thud, her face making contact with the filthy couch cushion.

"Raaaph!"

"...Goddamnit."

The rest of the night before they retired to the ice box was spent at the table with the Sudoku puzzle Casey had abandoned a few days earlier. She was finally getting the hang of it, but she still needed help with the harder numbers in the last few boxes.

"So I got 4 and 6, then 7 and 9, and 3 was easy! But I can't fuckin get 1, 2, 8, and 5! It's like they hate me or somethin', man! The numbers are out to get me! Bet if I don't solve this thing they'll call all their number friends and carry me off the ice box in my sleep like ants carryin' a piece o' bread or somethin'!"

Raph had to take a minute to recover from the laughing fit that had brought him.

"I'm serious, yo! These things are fuckin deadly!"

"They're NUMBERS, Casey, and nothing's gonna hurt you with me around! Specially not SUDOKU NUMBERS for fuck's sake-" He sighed, looking back over the four remaining numbers. 1, 2, 5, and 8. This was easy, too easy.

"8 goes next to 9, see how there's no 8 in that column?"

"Oh, yeah! That one was easy, I could've done that one!"

"1 goes right... below 7." The younger boy let Casey draw the numbers while he directed and explained.

"So then 2 goes next to 7 and 5 goes right below 2!"

"Yup! Now all there is is 1."

"RIGHT in the middle! YEAH! I DID IT!! I SCORED!!!"

"You finished the puzzle Case, you didn’t score anything."

"Yeah I did! I won, I beat it! I scored something at least!"

"Alright, cause you did so good, you've scored an extra round tonight." Raph winked at a now clueless Casey.

"'Nother round of what? Puzzles?"

"...That's it. You've been sleepin' on that thing for way too long, it's freezing away your brain cells!" Raph exclaimed, and shook his head. “Least the few ya got left.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I got plenty brain cells up here!” Casey retorted, and smacked her hand against her skull lightly for good measure.

“Hitting your head’s not gonna help!”

“I’ll hit YOUR head!” True to his word, albeit in a playful tone, Casey jumped at Raph, and both of their backs hit the ground, next to each other, staring at the ceiling.

The ceiling was a very boring thing to look at in Casey’s opinion. She decided that he’d rather look at Raph. Turning on one side, she nestled into her arms, looking at Raph, who had also turned to look at his lover. They remained like that for a good five minutes, Raph pulling Casey in for a snuggle.

“Bored?” Casey scoffed. “How could I be bored with you here?” Raph raised a non-existent eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I'm a LITTLE bored.”

“Got anything in mind?” Casey sat up, and drummed his fingers against a particularly thin part of the floor. Someone on the floor below shouted: “SHUT THE HELL UP!”

Casey pressed her face to the thinnest board. “FUCK OFF!”

The pair heard whomever had shouted being chastised by another, with a higher, accented voice, and say “Shush! You’ll get us evicted! Harris nearly dropped your Denny’s order.” That gave Casey an idea.

“That’s your idea face, Case,” Raph said. “Wanna share with the class?”

“We’re gonna bomb a Denny’s, Raphie!” Raph looked pleasantly surprised, and his face broke into a wide grin. Why a Denny's? Well when it comes to Casey's bizarre ideas of fun, Raph never wanted to ask. However, he wasn't opposed to it in the slightest.

“Now THAT sounds like fun. But we’re getting food before we blow it up. Their pancakes are great.”

“Oh, yeah! I almost forgot about those! But I’m getting whipped cream.”

“You know that the only reason I’m against that is because last time you tried to make pancakes, you put shaving cream instead of whipped cream!”

“It’s not my fault they look so similar!”

“Why would something from the BATHROOM go on food?”

“Because it wasn’t in the bathroom! It was with the plates!” Raph let out a loud cackle of a laugh, and hovered in the hair, holding the stitch in his side.

“The fuckin’ plates? The fuck?”

“I don’t know, dude! It was probably Mikey!”

Casey shrugged, barely biting back a laugh herself, as she scooped the remaining bombs into a duffel bag. “Damn, we’re gonna need more shit for the bombs. We’re running low.”

“…And you’re surprised? Half your plans have been ‘blow stuff up and see what happens’!”

Casey tossed him a look. “Nah! Didn’t blow that cop up, did I?”

“I said HALF, dumbass.” Casey rolled her eyes, and zipped up the bag, flipping his mask before catching it in his free hand as a thought struck her. “Wait, you can eat pancakes, right?”

“I can eat cold pizza,” Raph replied pointedly.

“God, you’re never letting that one go, are ya?”

“Whadda ya think?”

“Yeah, yeah, but for real, can you eat pancakes?”

“Only one way to find out, yeah?”

To an outsider, it would be a weird interaction. To have Casey, looking like she hadn’t showered in a week, because she hadn’t, in a ratty hoodie with a conspicuous duffel bag, order enough pancakes to feed the US military, half with whipped cream, and a large to-go container of fruit.

But this was customer service, after all. So, of course, the attendant didn’t bat an eyelash or blink at him like she was crazy, instead typing the egregious order in, and tell her that his order would “be out shortly.”

And, for a Denny’s in New York, at the hour of three in the morning, ‘shortly’ was actually short, relatively speaking, and fifteen minutes later, Casey Jones was staggering under the weight of an outrageous number of pancakes as a phone alarm went off.

“You’re just in time,” the attendant noted, nodding at Casey.

“That’s my shift over. Next shift’s all caught a cold, and the one after that took a group vacation to Bali. Janitorial’s gonna lock the place up, so we’d be shut ‘till about five on Thursday.” So it was probably Tuesday, in that case.

“Go to sleep,” a waitress barked from where she was wiping a table down.

“I have no car, you know that,” the attendant shot back.

“You’d have a car if you hadn’t T-boned that bus that T-bones a street light!” It took all of the very limited self-control Casey possessed to not laugh out loud as he managed to get her quarry over the threshold.

“See ya, hoodie dude!” the waitress called.

“That’s hoodie gal to ya!” Casey replied, leaning back into the establishment.

“Sorry, sorry! Hoodie GAL!” the waitress said, course correcting immediately with a grin. Casey shot a thumbs-up and swung the door shut as the attendant ducked out through a door marked “Employees Only,” exiting out the side of the building, by the dumpsters and circuitry, passing the latter, and leaning on a grey Subaru.

Through a large window, Casey watched the waitress drop the rag she’d used to clean the table with into a bucket, stick the bucket in a sink, and click the lights off. The loud ‘CLANG’ of a door indicated that she had gone out the same side door as the attendant, likely locking the doors. Casey rounded the opposite side of the building, and saw Raph tie a handful of bombs and pyrotechnics down.

“I got the goods, Raphie!” he announced, and Raph returned his wide grin.

“This side’s good, anyone still in there?”

“Nah, I was the only customer, and the two workers are driving off now.” As if on cue, Casey heard the telltale signs of the Subaru backing out of the parking lot. Raph grunted.

“I got this side and stuck some by a dumpster on the other side.”

“Imma throw some in the window!” Casey decided, delving into her bag, and retrieving more of the same. He lifted a foot, and kicked in a window. Glass spread all over the floor, and Casey heaved the explosives through the gaping hole. Diving into her pockets, she plucked out two lighters — one for himself, and one for Raph.

He handed one to the ghost, who lit up the stack of explosives in front of them, and glided through the walls to light the second. Upon her boyfriend’s return, Casey took his lighter, flicking the top off, and tossed it to the pile inside.

“We should back up.”

“Yeah, I like it when you have your face.” Casey dove behind a tree, still clutching the cakes, Raph bobbing up and down next to her.

Suddenly, the inevitable explosion rang in Casey’s ears, firey hues reflected in their surroundings, bathing her vision in orange and white. The pyrotechnics that had been added also went off, the screeching into the early morning.

Casey tracked one small rocket-like firework with his eyes, and began a mental countdown to its combustion. Exactly on cue, the trail of sparks and color erupted into a fountain of flame and light.

“This was one of your better ideas,” Raph said with a smile, and leaned a head onto Casey’s shoulder.

“Hey, I was due!”

“Shut up, I haven’t had a pancake in months, fork ‘em over.”

Casey opened up the ginormous bag of food and pulled out the first of many to-go containers filled to the brim with pancakes and a single container of whipped cream to start.

Raph snatched the first pancake off the pile as soon as Casey opened the lid, grabbing it with his ghostly fingers and dropping it into his mouth.

The flapjack fell right into Raph's teeth, but as the turtle opened his mouth again to chew, the pancake fell right through his body and onto the dirty grass below him

"So much for that idea, I can't even taste the thing- Casey?"

The vigilante was staring at the pancake like a feral animal, her eyes wide from behind the mask. "Casey, don't-"

"FIVE SECOND RULE!!"

Casey lept up and pounced on top of Raph, the turtle letting out an "OOF!" As he was thrown backwards, leaving the pancake unguarded. Casey quickly climbed off Raph and snatched up the fallen pancake, taking it back to where he was sitting, muching on it much like a squirrel would eat an acorn. Her eyes never left Raph as he scarfed down the warm, soft bread, the first hot food she'd probably had in the two months or so that he'd been on the run.

Raph let him have it, and all the other pancakes, laughing softly as Casey protected the food with her life. He understood why Casey was so protective, but as his boyfriend, he could afford the luxury of laughing as a paint covered, dirty, smelly, gap toothed, murderous vigilante ate Denny's pancakes in the woods while said restaurant was going up in flames nearby.

"Babe, we should get outta here before the police come."

Casey let out a grunt but didn't move.

"Casey, please, come on, we gotta go."

Still nothing, but at least she stopped eating the pancake this time.

"You okay, babe?"

"Want more pancakes." He grumbled.

"Alright, you can eat the rest when we get back to the apartment safely, okay? Come on, we gotta go." She nodded, falling back into silence.

Once they were farther away from the explosion and into the city part of New York City, Casey hailed a cab to take them the rest of the way home. The driver never said anything about the pancakes, the beat up looking kid in a skull mask, or the turtle in an oversized hoodie, (Casey wasn’t completely sure if Raph was visible to other people, so that was a bit of a toss-up) so it was either a pretty normal sight for him, or it was just a really fucked up Tuesday.

The apartment complex was quiet, even more so without Casey's constant talking the entire way back. It was unusual to hear her this quiet, but Raph assumed having warm food after months of chips and cold pizza was enough to make him silent. Casey never made a peep all through the pancakes, whipped cream, and even the fruit, putting all the empty containers in the bag before finally speaking again.

"Thanks for the meal, Raphie."

It was a whisper, but it sounded genuine, thankful, too soft for it to be Casey's voice.

"No problem, Case. Sorry I couldn't eat it with you."

"It's okay, but I really miss sharin' with ya'."

More uncomfortable silence.

"Rafa?" Woah, that was a nickname Casey hardly ever threw out.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can you hold me tonight, please?"

The younger boy blinked. Something was really up for Casey to be acting this strangely.

"Of course. Come on, let's get you on that ice box."

Twenty minutes later and Casey was curled up in Raph's arms, her gurgle-purr the only sound in the room.

".... Casey?"

"Hm?”

"I... I um... you know I love ya', right?”

"Mhm."

"I know I've told ya' a lot before but God, I love you, ya' idiot. I had a lotta fun tonight and I hope you know that too."

The girl hugged his boyfriend a little tighter, smiling into his chest.

"I fuckin’ love you, Casey Jones, no matter what weird shit you get into or what fucked up crimes you commit. I don't care how far you run away from me, cause you're stupid, but I'll fucking find you every goddamn time. I hope there ain't no afterlife so we can stay like this forever, even if this stupid box sucks ass. But, I wanna be on it if it means I get to be with the man AND the woman that I love."

Tears hit Raph's plastron, shocking the turtle out of his speech.

Casey was crying, the sobs getting louder and louder, her hands tighter and tighter and Raphael's waist.

"Fuck you, Raphie, I got my nice paint on tonight!" They both laughed, knowing the insult was anything but genuine, unlike what Raph had just let spill out.

"God you're such a sap sometimes!"

"Yeah well somebody had to break your silence! What was that even for, anyways?"

He paused. "It-... it was for Angel. For us. For me and you and her and all of us back when you weren't dead and she used to eat pancakes every fuckin' day for breakfast. She wouldn't stop eatin’ 'em, always said that it was 'pancakes or nothin’!. Now I'm eatin those stupid, round, hot, bread thingies all alone with my dead boyfriend who can't eat shit and my little sister who's suffering twenty minutes away from me and I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT THAT WON'T GET HER KILLED!"

She let out a low, growly scream and the tears started again. Raph didn't know what to say or how to feel, there were no good words he could give to Casey, just his actions. He rubbed his back, kissing the greasy mop of hair on top of his head until the sobbing subsided.

"Casey?"

"...Yeah?"

"I love you so fuckin’ much."

"I love YOU so fuckin’ much, Raphael Tomato."

"It's Hamato."

"Ha- Ham- Ha- oh forget it, I can't." Casey sounded sad, like goofing up Raph's name wasn't a joke or something she could control.

"Ha-ma-to." Raph sounded it out for him.

"Ha-ma-to." Raphael gasped. Casey finally got his last name right.

"That's it! Casey, you did it, you finally got my last name right!"

"I did??"

"YEAH!"

"HOLY SHIT, LET'S GO!" They shared a celebratory kiss and a forehead bump before Casey muttered: "But when we get married, I ain't takin’ that thing even if Splinter makes me."

"It's a deal. Love ya', Casey Hamato." Casey snickered.

"Love ya too, Raphael Jones."

If Raph smiled the rest of the night while Casey slept obliviously below him, no one would ever know or be able to blackmail him about it.

A/N: Be bi, bomb buildings!

#ghosts of our days #rasey #2012 casey jones #2012 raph #2012 rasey #fanfiction #ao3 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt au

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the-sidekick-club · 2 years ago

Text

Enemy of my Enemy is my Kid!

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Epilogue

@heroes-villains-side-blog★@tratieisdabest★@just-a-space-rabbit

TW:Choking, Physical abuse, Toxic relationship, Emotional manipulation, Emotional abuse

❘〣❘〣❘★ Enemy of my enemy: Epilogue ★❘〣❘〣❘

“Did you get it?” was the first thing Kim heard as they entered the dark office.

‘Shit, he's already angry…’ they thought as they noticed Vulcan’s tall silhouette waiting for them by the window. Kim did not answer as they closed the door behind them, bracing themself for the meeting ahead.

It was a cold office, and everything just felt… sharp. All the items felt calculated down to the inch of their placement and nothing was allowed to be without purpose.

There were several objects of notoriety, mostly stolen art or older relics, some of which Kim themself had stolen in Vulcan’s name. But there were other relics of importance too; some inspiration for Vulcan, who was always drawn to the power that ancient empires once had. It took someone with real skill or power to steal things of this caliber.

The whole room was a mix of cold metal and royal purple, a shade chosen after spending far too many hours comparing fabrics and paint samples. Normally, it would have been a stark contrast to Kim’s green and earthly colored clothing, but not today; Vulcan had demanded they wear their suit for this mission, making them almost match the room, and Vulcan himself.

Kim silently walked up to the long desk in the middle of the office, before placing the secured case on it and finally answering, “I was able to get the E.G.G., but—”

“But what?” Vulcan interrupted coldly, yet calmly.

As he began moving closer, his two-tailed cape began to flick dangerously behind him. Kim knew, just by the way he was controlling his cape, that they were treading into dangerous territory. But there was no going back, so they held their ground.

“But I was unsuccessful in gaining the notebook and all the needed blueprints—”

Before Kim could finish their sentence, Vulcan's cape had moved faster than Kim could react. It wrapped itself tightly around them and pinned them hard to the wall.

“Dragonfly hid most of the blueprints!” Kim began to yell out in panic. “He would only show one or two pages at a time!”

Vulcan did not loosen his grip. “Kim! I gave you ONE task! How could you fail me like that!”

“I’m sorry!” Kim said desperately.

“Sorry?” His voice was fairly calm, but filled with more rage than Kim had ever seen before. “Kim, without those notes and blueprints YOU have set us back years!”

“He was suspecting us. All of us!” Kim answered in a panting voice as Vulcan’s grip kept tightening, “I never got more than one chance to look at—'' everything was starting to go black as Kim continued “I… g.. ot… so-s… me pi… c… tu… rs.'' They gasped as Vulcan finally let them go, and they fell to the floor with a thud.

“Pictures? Pictures of what?”

Kim was still gasping for air, as Vulcan kneeled down in front of them, their eyes still filled with danger. “Of Andaka's notebook…” they answered him, “where he talked about the theory of the E.G.G.’s activation process.”

“Show me,” he said, calmer than before, but Kim knew as they took out their phone that his anger might come back. Vulcan snatched the phone out of Kim’s hand and began looking through the borderline blurry photos.

Although it seemed the photos had been taken in a hurry, there was no doubt about it: these were photos of Andaka’s notebook.

Kim continued talking as Vulcan transferred the photos over to his computer, and began looking into them further. “I tried to search for the notebook after getting the E.G.G., but it was all destroyed when I got back to it, and then the agency was closing in on me—I had to leave!” The sorry tone was still within their voice, but it seemed no longer necessary.

“Enough…” Vulcan said calmly and Kim immediately stopped talking, not that they wanted to talk more, as they still felt the phantom pain from the tight grip. Their eyes wandered to the floor, and they hoped that they would get the order to leave soon.

However, looking up in response to the sound of the blinds coming down, which left the room almost totally dark, their hope for escape dwindled, as the images were projected onto the holo screen. Clearly, Vulcan wanted to study every photo closer first, so Kim had to wait.

The pages were filled with scribbles and notes, seeming to have built up over the years. From what they could tell, it seemed Andaka kept returning to a few specific pages more than the others.

Two of the pages seemed to be showcasing the activation process, which seemed to have been the task taking the most of Andaka's time to figure out.

The other two were even harder to decipher, being more blurry than the rest. But Vulcan could make out that the two pages were detailing the E.G.G. in use. “Looks like old Andaka cracked the code,” he said, his voice laced in something akin to awe, “so he figured out the theory on how to separate Aura, and how to lower the E.G.G.’s power levels. But he was unable to stabilize it at a safe extraction level... ”

The last of the pages had a sketch of what seemed to be the power-repressing gem Desolite, there were scribbles around it, one in an older black, and another in red; clearly this was important if the professor had decided to come back to it. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Vulcan was unable to read the blurry photograph. “Now, why did Andaka write about Desolite?” he asked himself, before turning to Kim for an answer.

“That was what I was trying to find out,” Kim said in a weak voice, “but then Dragonfly almost caught me and I never got a chance to take a second look…”

“Well, then…at least these pictures are more than enough!” Vulcan said, his demeanor a sharp contrast to the Vulcan who had berated Kim just minutes earlier. “With this, we can start everything. I knew you were the right person for this mission, good job, kid.” He walked over and lifted Kim up into his arms. “I’ll take you down to the med bay. After that, you can take the rest of the day off—you deserve it.” He spoke in a kind and soft voice. “Then, tomorrow, you're going to tell me all about the things you did not get photos of."

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

Part 4 : Master List

Master List : Character list

#heroes and villains #villain x villain #henchman #supervillain #bad villain #young villain #the sidekick club #enemy of my enemy is my kid #Kim #Vulcan #villain whumpee #supervillain whumper #villain whumper #tw choking #tw physical abuse #tw toxic relationship #tw emotional manipulation #tw emotional abuse #e.g.g.

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