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fluffykitty1999-blog · 3 years ago

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Dog of the Military- Chapter 15

Chapter 15- Morning Courtmartial

And as usual... the ko-fi link, if you like the trash I, a human dumpster fire, product https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12

Roy Mustang showed up outside the dorms at 8:30am sharp. It was 8:37 when Edward came racing down the stairs, in his military blues with a large suit of armor clanking hurriedly behind him.

Ed fairly dove into the passenger seat, with Alphonse squeezing into the entirety of the backseat, and Ed turned to look at Mustang like he was possessed. "Drive!"

"Put your seat belt on." Roy said, giving him a look.

Ed frantically did so, and Roy was heading over to central command.

"Shit are we gonna be late? I couldn't find a hair tie that wasn't red I didn't know what the military regulations were so I transmuted it black." Ed's hair wasn't in its trademark braid- rather, it was in a high ponytail behind him. His uniform was a little rumpled, and his collar was a mess, but these were all things that could be fixed.

"Calm down. We're not going to be late, but we won't be able to stop and grab breakfast like I planned either, so you'll have to hold out til lunch." Roy remarked.

Ed nodded, seeming to calm down slightly at this.

"Are you doing okay?" Roy shot his youngest subordinate a look.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Ed said, nodding. Though there wasn't too much belief behind the statement.

"I'm going to be so nervous, waiting upstairs in the office to hear what's going on." Al piped up from the back.

"Try not to worry too much, Alphonse- the team will be watching the proceedings, and they'll come upstairs periodically under the guise of a break to update you."

"Alright." Alphonse seemed to settle for the moment. Edward's leg kept bouncing nervously, and they pulled up outside central command at ten minutes to nine. They parted ways, with Alphonse heading upstairs and Roy and Ed heading towards the courtroom, deeper on the first floor of Central command.

The hallways were busy with people in all sorts of military blues- Ed's eyes widened as he saw everyone assembled. Roy placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, steering him into the men's room just outside the courtroom.

"Do you have to go?" he asked, giving the boy a once-over.

Ed shook his head. "No. Why are we in here, anyways?"

"Because you were getting overwhelmed and I need to touch up your uniform." Roy said calmly. He started with the boy's long military jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles and straightening the boy's rank pins. He moved up to Ed's collar next, folding it down properly, before looking at Ed's hair- he wet his hands in the sink and smoothed down Ed's trademark blond antenna, before nodding and standing up straight. "Much better. You look like quite the solider, Fullmetal."

"Yeah. Now if only I could feel like one. Brigadier General Basque Grand was out there." Ed muttered to himself, looking down at his boots.

"A lot of high profile people are here, Ed. This trial has ruffled some feathers, I'm not gonna lie. But how you carry yourself in there- how you think and behave- will affect how you're treated."

"They'll just look at me like a kid anyways."

"Stop it." Mustang hissed, using two fingers to tilt Edward's chin up so the boy was looking him in the eyes. "I know you're nervous, and you have a right to be, but self pity and doubt have no place here, Edward."

Roy reached down into Edward's pocked, putting out the boy's state alchemist watch and dangling it in front of him. "You are the Fullmetal Alchemist. I watched you put blood sweat and tears into earning this watch. You are a prodigy- you have seen atrocities and come back eager to live on anyways. You are a soldier under my command. I didn't give you this watch. You earned it. You could kick the asses of nearly everyone in that court room, save myself and a few others, without a problem. So you act like it- you look them in the eyes and you tell them everything. I need you to trust me, Edward- if you testify to the best of your abilities, he'll be found guilty. I promise."

Ed looked up at him- eyes that were swimming with uncertainty becoming hard with determination and purpose. The fire was burning bright again, and Ed pursed his lips and nodded. "Alright."

"Don't forget- you're the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People. Make them remember that."

"I will."

They both turned, exiting the restroom and striding into the courtroom, down the aisles and to their side of the benches. Their court appointed lawyer, Marissa Jennings, was a pretty woman in military blues with dark hair and brown eyes- she nodded to Mustang as they found their seats behind their table. Ed hadn't met the woman, but Roy had had countless meeting with her over the past two weeks to prepare, and he was very familiar with her.

On the other side of the courtroom, behind the small table sat Colonel Banks and Lieutenant Shaw, and the defendant's lawyer, an older, be speckled man in his sixties eith salt and pepper hair and a gray goatee.

Before both tables was the Judge's desk on an elevated platform, and to the left was the bleachers for the jury- a group of about twelve. Behind the tables where the prosecuting and defending parties sat, there was a small wooden railing and benches for spectators to watch.

Roy noted Basque Grand sitting behind Colonel Bank's side of the courtroom, as well as a smattering of unfamiliar soldiers. Banks had clearly brought his men as well.

But it was no match for Ed's side of the courtroom. Havoc, Breda, Falman, Furey, Hawkeye, Scheska, Hughes, Armstrong, and several of the receptionists that Ed would help by fixing broken vases and flower pots all sat at the ready. The proceedings were about to being.

The door to the courtroom flew open, and Roy nearly fell out of his chair. Scowling in the doorway, General Olivier Armstrong strode into the room,her sidearm and sword at her side, with Miles beside her, his sunglasses present as always.

She stalked into the room, and it nearly fell silent, before flopping to sit beside her brother, who sat in support of Edward, exhaling harshly through her nose.

"Olivier- so glad you could make it! You hardly ever respond to my letters." Armstrong had started to sparkle.

Olivier scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. I came here because I was pissed, not because of that sappy letter. This whole torture fiasco happened at Goldenfield- the North is my territory, and when bullshit happens I like to see who's held accountable." She brushed her bangs from her face. Though Roy didn't miss the way she craned her neck to get a look at Edward.

Who knew- perhaps General Armstrong actually cared?

"All rise- the honorable judge Mason Freeman presiding." the baliff barked. The sound of chairs scraping as everyone in the room hurried to stand was the only sound.

The judge- a rather wise looking man in his sixties- strode to his desk with ease, before he was sitting down. "Good morning. At ease, everyone. Let it be noted on the record today the case of Flame vs Banks has begun."

Everyone sat down, and the judge nodded toward Ed's bench.

"We will begin with the charges brought against the accused. Colonel Roger Banks, you have been accused of the unlawful imprisonment and torture of a state alchemist, Major Edward Elric. How does the accused plead?"

"Not guilty, Sir."

The judge nodded. "Very well. We will hear your arguments shortly. For now, let us proceed with the incident reports received, beginning with the mission report from the Fullmetal Alchemist himself. Jennings?"

The woman representing Ed stood up, shuffling papers. "Of course, your honor. On the fifth of September, Major Edward Elric received orders to head north and conduct a covert mission for the Amestrian military. He returned on the morning of September ninth, as planned, but rather than being allowed to return to Central city and report to his commanding officer, the boy was detained, restrained, beaten, and abused. The medical records show Edward received six cigarette burns to the lower left abdomen, a broken rib, a 3 inch laceration on his left bicep requiring 17 stitches, 3 lacerations on his back, from a knife, one of which required an additional twelve stitches to close, a black eye, and severe contusions to the chest. His mistreatment lasted for a day and a half, at which point his superior arrived, discovered the Major's condition, and got the boy medical help. I will now read, verbatim, the mission reports submitted to the court by Edward Elric and Roy Mustang, followed by the Doctor's report regarding Ed's injuries."

The first hour of the court session was the lawyer reading Ed's mission report, then Mustangs, and continuing on with the doctor's report. Ed was rather relieved that he could just sit and listen. It was clear the woman representing them was more comfortable in a courtroom than he was.

"This concludes my report of evidence from the prosecution, your honor." the woman finished.

The judge nodded. "And does the defendant have any evidence which they wish to present?"

The elder lawyer stood. "Yes, Sir. I am presenting the reports of Colonel Roger Banks and Lieutenant Shaw, verbatim."

"The secret mission Edward Elric was sent on was of immense importance for national security. Following our rendezvous, Edward expressed his interest in returning to Central city as soon as possible. I agreed this was the best course of action, but as the boy's superior, righteously demanded that he give his report and findings to me before leaving. Fullmetal adamantly refused, and when repeatedly prompted, answered with blatant disrespect. Had it been a matter of lesser importance, I would've written the boy up and let him go. But due to the immensely sensitive information the boy had, I felt I could not let him leave without reporting to me. It wasn't in the best interests of the nation."

"Following his staunch refusal and obstinence, I disciplined the boy physically, and continued to do so. I am not a man without conscience, but I had to put the good of the nation over the good of one unruly boy. I was nearly to the point of extracting the information when the boy's commanding officer- who identified himself as the Flame Alchemist- trespassed in my office and intimidated my Lieutenant into taking him to see the boy."

"When I attempted to confront the man for his intrusion into my office and blatant disregard for my command, I was brutally assaulted, receiving first degree burns on my hand, and my life threatened if I refused to leave. By the time I felt it prudent to return, the Flame Alchemist and the Fullmetal Alchemist were gone."

Roy frowned at the report.

The lawyer paused, clearing his throat. "Now- onto the incident report of Lieutenant Margaret Shaw, dated October twentieth-"

Roy's hand touched the table the defense lawyer had her paper's spread out, and he shifted in his seat to sit forward a little.

"Objection!" The lawyer was cut off by their lawyer, and everyone looked over at him, even the judge.

"What is the nature of this objection, Jennings?"

"Mr. Elric was reported to have been scheduled to return from his mission on the ninth of October. His commanding officer retrieved him on the afternoon of the tenth of october. The fact that this report was filed so late is likely due to the fact that Lieutenant Shaw wouldn't have filed a report about the imprisonment and abuse of power at all, had it not been for her commanding officer receiving a summons for court martial a few days earlier and covering her tracks."

"This is all speculation, your honor." the elderly defense lawyer protested, moving his glasses further up his nose.

"Jennings, you may continue, but keep it short." the judge advised, looking interested.

"I'd like to know the date Colonel Banks filed his incident report." Jennings asked.

The defense lawyer shuffled his papers. "October nineteenth was the date Colonel Banks filed his report."

"Interesting. So this alleged abuse of power occurs from the ninth to tenth of October, Colonel Banks is assaulted so viciously by the Flame alchemist in the line of duty, and yet despite all of this, he waits nine days to file a report. And his subordinate, who also witnessed such abuse, files her report one day after. Despite the fact that officers are required to file reports of incidents within forty eight hours. It almost seems as though the defendants were scrambling and after receiving their court summons, sat down and put their story together to avoid any gaps and inconsistencies, and then submitted them a day apart."

"My report is my own, Ma'am. While it is true that Colonel Banks and I discussed the matter after receiving our summons, my report was filed directly to central- Colonel Banks never read it." Lieutenant Shaw spoke up.

"I can attest to this, as I notarized the document." the lawyer agreed.

"I see. Still, the timing is awfully convenient. That's all I have to say on the matter, your honor."

The judge nodded. "The defense may continue."

Lieutenant Shaw's report was read verbatim, as well. It didn't contain the blatant falsehoods Colonel Banks had- rather, Shaw had chosen to stick to facts.

"At approximately 9am Edward Elric returned to our fort and expressed a desire to go home after completing his mission. He proceeded to another room with Colonel Banks and I didn't see him afterwards. At approximately 10am, I received a call from the boy's commanding officer, inquiring if Edward had returned as planned. I confirmed that Edward Elric had indeed returned and that he intended to get a train out of central soon."

"In the afternoon, at approximately 1pm, Colonel Banks was stepping out for lunch. I still had not seen Major Elric and inquired if he'd purchased his train ticket home yet, as he seemed eager to do in the morning. Colonel Banks said the boy was resting upstairs before he left, tired from his mission. I noticed the Colonel carrying Elric's black coat and inquired why- he told me he was going to get it cleaned for the boy so he could travel home in comfort."

"At the end of the day, I still had not seen Edward. I stepped into the Colonel's office to say goodnight to my commanding officer, and found him sititng at his desk. On his desk, was Elric's coat, cut into scraps. I asked the Colonel if Edward had left yet. Colonel Banks confirmed my suspicions that Edward was still in the building, but said it was a matter of national security that he get the information from the boy. I was in no position to argue with my superior, so I quietly left. On a hunch, I went downstairs to the cells where unruly citizens are kept and found Major Elric hung from the wall by his wrists, dirty and in some degree of pain. He looked up at me and asked if I was there to burn him as well. I asked him how I could help- he asked me for water. I brought him a mug of it and gave it to him quickly before leaving for the night. I trusted my commanding officer to handle the issue."

"Colonel Banks instructed me to have all questions about the Fullmetal Alchemist's condition forwarded to him. I followed these orders, forwarding the phone inquiry of the Flame Alchemist to Colonel Banks early in the morning. That afternoon, however, when the Flame Alchemist arrived, he was quite agitated, and I thought it prudent to show him to Elric immediately to avoid further conflict. Colonel Banks went to speak to the man and returned with a burned hand a destroyed firearm. After I treated my commanding officer for his injuries, I took the suitcase Elric had left in our fort in the room he'd stayed in previously and dropped it off at the local inn on the hunch they were staying there."

Colonel Banks looked over at Margaret, a bit of disapproval behind his eyes, but not much of it.

"Your honor." Jennings, dark haired and bold as always, spoke up. "I would like to ask Lieutenant Shaw a few more questions."

"In due time, Jennings." the judge frowned, squinting at the courtroom clock. "It's nearly noon. I declare a half hour recess, and then we will reconvene for cross-examination of the involved parties. Adjourned." the judge slammed his gavel down, and the courtroom broke into a flurry of activity as everyone rose to grab lunch.

Team Mustang normally would've gathered in the cafeteria, but since Alphonse was stuck upstairs in the office, they elected to grab food and eat with him. Plus, seeing Ed was likely to ease his mind.

Ed grabbed a ham sandwich as they hurried upstairs.

"Nice job Chief!" Havoc clapped a hand on his shoulder as he sat on Mustang's couch and started to eat. "I don't think I've ever seen you sit still for that long before!"

Ed had to fight the blush creeping up his cheeks.

"How was it, brother? Are you alright?" Al asked.

Ed took a bite of his sandwich. "I'm fine. I didn't have to do much of anything, it was mostly lawyers reading reports and making statements."

"Still, you seem to be making quite the case. The lawyer representing you- Jennings- is on her game." Hawkeye spoke up.

"Yes, she certainly is." Roy conceded. Probably because he'd spent over six hours with her going over the particulars of the case this past week. But still, she was tenacious and on the ball, and Roy liked her.

The door to the office burst open, and Hughes came running in. "Ed! You did great out there! Were you nervous?"

"A little." Ed took another bite of his sandwich and chewed.

"Right." the light reflected off Hughes glasses, showing his seriousness, as he stepped forward. "Well, this afternoon they're going to do the cross examinations. So you'll have to go up on the witness stand and answer questions about your report. Everyone will be watching. So you're going to need to have nerves of steel and think on your feet. They'll do anything they can to make you slip up."

"R-right." Ed was looking nervous.

"I figured you'd be stressed, so I brought some pictures of my darling Elicia to help calm your nerves!" Roy was right back to his fawning father self, pulling out a rather large stack of photos. "Here she is in her footie pajamas, and here she is with her new teddy bear..."

Hawkeye exchanged glances with Roy. They let Hughes ramble on for a few more minutes before Hawkeye was shooing him out of the office.

"You should finish that sandwich up- we have to head back down soon." Roy nodded to Ed, looking at the clock.

"I'm done." Ed said simply, setting down the half-eaten sandwich and standing. Ed hardly ate anything- that meant he was nervous.

Roy placed a hand on his shoulder as they ducked out of the office and headed back towards the courtroom. No matter what was to come in cross examinations- he'd do his best to protect Ed.

#fma #fma fanfiction #Fullmetal Alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #Roy Mustang #edward elric #Parental Roy #parentalroy #whumph #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt #comfort #dogofthemilitary #injury

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angelthebedsheet · 4 years ago

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my fav boys with slick black s/o pt 1?

a/n: im losing inspiration for my current requests and i’m not feeling good mentally or physically. my mood has been down the whole week and it’s messing with my school work so that’s also putting me in a sad mood. but im also in the mood for some fightin words so i’ll use my comfort boys. this may be corny but hey it works for me and this is my blog ❤️

lets get it

—————————————————————————-

Bakugo Katsuki

bro you MATCH his ENERGY so well with your clapbacks

tbh... bakugo’s clapbacks are just trash

he got the aggression but cmon now

tf is “shitty extra”

boy if you dont sit ya ass down

he LOVES your clapbacks tho

them shits be making him lose his mind

any slick shit you say he eats that UP

one time monoma was talking too much shit and you just

“nigga if you dont sit yo ass tf down fore i snatch yo forehead tf off”

safe to say bakugo busted out laughing

you were ready to post up

he lives for when you be roasting ppl under ya breath

what he doesnt like is when you roast him

bc you can and will read a bitch no hesitation

he really thought he was special....

aint shit sweet come get these roasts nigga

“boy if you dont take them damn pants off. shits look like hammer pants. cant touch this headass”

yall know how i have desiree roasting him?

that’s exactly how it be

you got a sharp ass tongue and will use it against anyone

let someone get both of yall pissed off together???

straight up verbal abuse at that point

file a complaint bc you and bakugo def made someone cry before

i think the class lwk hates you bc you helped bakugo’s clapbacks get better

which is bad for them

yall rmb those roasting vids where they go mmm after each one?

thats bakugo in the back

“big body headass”

“mm”

“dumpster truck headass”

“mm”

typa shit

he’ll hype it up too much

Todoroki Shouto

you think this man dont talk shit himself????

bro he can and will read a bitch RIGHT TO THEIR FACE TOO

he want all the SMOKE

yall together??? im sorry to whoever pissed yall off lemme plan they funeral

i imagine the way todoroki reads niggas is real sophisticated like he will point out every single insecurity you HAVE without even knowing you that well

no cursing for majority of them

“what shoes you got on?”

KAJDJSKKDKCKDDJ

yall would read bitches together but like this

“shou it’s the lifting acrylics for me”

“it’s the dusty wig for me, love”

“its the disconnecting wig for me”

“its the cakey makeup for me”

painful for them

i think he can do rapid fire roasts as soon as someone tries to start shit with you

“i know you’re not coming for my s/o. it’s the talking shoes, it’s the bootleg supreme shirt, it’s the fake chain, it’s the brittle hair”

he gets real disrespectful and wont care who it is

unless it’s your friends or family then he’ll dial it back a lil bit

if you start roasting endeavor????

my mans might be on his way to the jewelers

“try this ring on. i wanna see if it can fit you”

he finna spouse you up (spouse IS gender neutral innit?)

unrelated but todoroki is a hottie and will “ah 😜 mwah 💋” everytime and you might have a video of him losing his mind girls in the hood LMAOOOOO

Killua Zoldyck

now this boy.... cant roast for SHIT

yeah he’s a lil brat and can get mean and petty

but he cannot compare to you

this nigga’s a whole trained assassin but cant kill niggas with his words that well

🤡🤡🤡

i think the meanest thing he’s said is call you “a stupid fuckin idiot”

to which you responded with

“shut the fuck up, mushroom built ass bitch. body built like a smurf. hair lookin like hairballs cats cough up. dont get loud lil boy”

killua respectfully sat down and scratched his head

no cap that shit lwk hurt but he gonna pretend like it didnt

he dont even know what the fuck a SMURF IS

he just know that it hurt

lwk thought that was your nen

the ability to manipulate emotions into irritation or anger or some shit

like no baby they just good at roasting bitches

after a while he starts to hype you up in the back

“how you FEELLLLL”

“OOOOH BURNNNN”

“SHIT GOTTA HURT DONT IT BITCHBABY?”

eventually he learns how to roast and clapback then it’s over

the sass meter is overboard

like you might have to knock him a couple notches down

swear to god this boy uses clapbacks on leorio just to piss him off

one time leorio was telling killua to do sumn he just

“oh you must want me with the way you keep gobbling on my fuckin nuts i will do it soon relax”

you damn near BEHEADED this boy with how hard you slapped the back of his head

like it was funny but leorio wouldve JUMPED YOU

Kamado Tanjiro

OUT OF ALL OF THEM HE DOESNT WANT THAT

listen he likes to be the peacemaker

but with your clapbacks they’re enough to make zenitsu wanna post up

like you read him a lil too much

“THATS HOW YOU FEEL Y/N-CHAN? ALRIGHT”

cue tanjiro rapidly apologizing while dragging you away

the first time you roasted the absolute shit outta inosuke he had to sit down

he didnt even know what the majority of the shit you said meant

same with killua all he knew was that shit kinda hurt

tanjiro be TIRED of yall

“y/n can you PLEASE relax”

“NAH HE WANNA GET LOUD WITH ME”

“HE BREATHED”

“AND IT WAS AN AGGRESSIVE BREATH”

of course you know your limits

there’s no way you’re gonna get tanjiro to roast people

but this one time you heard him clapback by accident

“you heard me loud and clear, sir. dont act like you couldnt hear me correctly.”

like oop?

i felt a lil HEAT

aint no where near burned but for tanjiro??? good e fucking nough

dont act like he dont say some lil slick shit on the dl

this man got pent up aggression fym

tho you do be making him laugh

esp in battle if you just start reading a demon

he cant help but snicker

baby loves the way you talk and wouldnt have it any other way

if you roast him he will just go

“oh okay 🙂”

he doesnt know how to respond to that

if you roasting someone who deserves it nezuko will be your hype girl bc tanjiro’s busy trying to de-escalate the situation 💀💀💀

“and thats why yo grandma got a busted funeral”

“MMPH!”

“Y/N NO STOP THATS SO RUDE IM SO SORRY FOR THEIR BEHAVIOR THEY DONT MEAN IT”

“YES TF I DO”

“y/n shut up NO THEY DONT SORRY”

before dragging you away

jfc you’re like verbally feral

Nishinoya Yuu

your personal hypeman

will respectfully allow you to roast people

cant roast to save his life either

“you tell em!”

“yuh!”

“mhm”

“bitch”

hopping around n shit LMAOAOAOAOAO

you got that shit

someone irritating him?

“y/n.... baby.”

“alright who is it?”

“tsukishima”

“aight bet. AYE BITCH”

legend has it tsukishima is still recovering from those third degree burns

do not roast him this man will run away he values his life

“oh you must be ready to attend this barbecue”

(love that guy)

“IM VEGAN” liar

and DIPS

nigga will 100% ROLLINGGGGGG THUNDAAAAAAA tf up outta there

he can clapback and that’s the most he’ll do

he do be saying slick shit bc i hc him as someone who want all the smoke

ride or DIE

on they ass

(struggling to come up with clapbacks w/o anything to clapback to 💀💀💀)

(been cryinf over rengoku and hw my brain is mush)

“GO OFF Y/N TALK YOUR SHIT YOUR MAJESTY”

NIGGAS A CLOWN ✋🏽😭

thats all for this one folks lmao

#x black reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x poc!reader #mha x black reader #haikyuu x black reader #haikyuu x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x reader #tanjiro x reader #killua x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #todoroki x reader #nishinoya x reader #perryat bitch #teehee

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icecreamkink · 4 years ago

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so i watched cobra kai all in two days and i have so many -

this show has so many cool and smart angles to it, but the same time.... its so stupid oh my god everyone is so dumb literally mr miyagi held all of the braincells in this whole universe

like i am but at the same time i am not surprised it was made like this, bc in hindsight of course there were hordes of ppl simping over johnny lawrence .... but it still amuses me that this is like... an Actual Official Thing

ok this will get long so cut it is

how much fun this cast has is super visible and i love it

i rly enjoy how the world was expanded ! i did grow up watching the karate kid movies, so watching how they progressed the world of the movies so organically was pretty cool. it rly feels like its the same universe

i fucking LOVE stories that are largely about a Thing. dancing ,skating, sports its just so thrilling to experience this all consuming relationship people can have with this type of activity? and martial arts are just that much more intense, so yeah, grown ass men kicking each other around at the lightest provocation and a war veteran caring so much abt teen karate is Ridiculous.... but i love it all because thats the intensity i find so thrilling

was kinda surprised with how much im missing mr. miyagi. first because, like everyone is so unhinged jesus christo, it just really throws into relief how much his character grounded the narrative of the movies. but also hes just a really great character

and on that note it rly Gets Me that the show itself aknowledges that and plays that into daniels angst and all the little ways they sorta weave myiagisms into the whole show........ im not getting emotional over this dumb karate dads show OK

related - i really miss hearing ‘daniel-san’ 🥺🥺

ACE DEGENERATE oh god oh no

they really went down the down and out johnny lawrence route huh. like i was always kinda bummed we see kreese choking him and then we never see him again in the movies, and while i love dumpster fire problematic trash himbo ck johnny, its like......................... actually really sad that his life turned out like this fjngn

everytime i hear ‘babes’ and ‘pussy’ i die a little inside. i know thats the point but i am a v cringe easy person, have mercy (ehe)

loved the way they are constantly drawing parallels between johnny and mr. myiagi of all people. hes the handy man of his building that has a bullied kid asking for help and eventually steps up to teach them karate, beats up a bunch of bullies for him, creates a friendship with said kid, estranged from family, drinks his sorrows away, surprisingly one of the least quick to anger characters (which says more about everyone else really but.... Well.), no schemes or ulterior motives hes just tryna vibe here.... oh and ofc magically heals miguel of is asthma apparently. the true disciple.. meanwhile daniel is his usual messy petty self even tho he wants to be mr myiagi so bad

also interesting about that is how miguels character is a parallel of both johnny and daniel at the same time

overall the parallels in ck are done really well, drawing comparisons and also subverting them constantly. theyre well thought out

THE PARALELOGRAMS

fr tho, the angle being explicitly the cycle of trauma and its effects and how trumatized adults in turn traumatize kids, maliciously or not, is so interesting

but! on the flip side of that, it feels like the writers are getting in their own way @ letting the characters grow. especially this last season. theres only so many times you can do "johnny and daniel are getting along but 5mins later they are (literally) fighting over some dumbass random issue" or "johnny puts in 20% of effort with robby and then gives up" before it gets on your nerves yknow?

i see daniel no longer talks like macchio ingested 15 shots of espresso before every take and idk how to feel about that tbh

interesting tension in daniel, as in, in tkk mr miyagi was there and daniel was frankly, kind of a lil shit, this messy petty spitfire hot tempered sassy kid,(johnny lawrence voice: just... stop being so annoying) but now hes the adult, and he wants to be mr. miyagi... but hes just not, and never will be to his very core and it shakes him and in a way hes trying to find who he is now that he sees himself in a position to be a not! cobra kai figure. i kinda really like that

plus how that relates to his cobra kai trauma. idk if the writers thought abt it Like That, i think so, but in any case, its interesting bc it seems like daniel has told everyone whod listen about johnny lawrence his Pretty Boy Karate Rival and high school and 84 cobra kai... But. no one seems to know what went on in 85 (or 86? idk) which was just so much worse

like ye og cobras were shitheads, but tkk iii is just two hours of daniel being emotionally and physically tortured.

like, the third movie is.............chaotic, to put it nicely, and many people ignore it, but the writers clearly didnt. daniels actions are, in a way, responding so much more to the events of tkk iii than to the first movie ie. johnny himself, AND. daniel doesnt rly seem to have dealt with that trauma? he never told sam? doesnt feel like hes ever told amanda? he doesnt even say terrys name out loud? freaks Out over kreese ? the way he reacts to robbys deceit? his FACE when he walks past the new "fear does not exist in this dojo" paint or kreeses photo? hmMm i sense Pain

his fashion tho........... disappointing. where are the flower shirts daniel huh we had one (1) shirt what a tragedy STOP WEARING SUITS ALL THE TIME . also the band ts/grunge bi are a look for johnny but part of me longs for the preppy lovable 80s bully chic johnny lawrence getups

weird that they never used that last moment of karate kid where johnny kinda... snaps out of his anger and hands daniel the trophy almost in tears. like “youre alright larusso, good match” “thanks a lot” that being their last direct interection seems like itd be perfect fruit for cobra kai but... they just dont. weird.

especially when, the FIRST SCENE they see each other, suposedly in 30+ years, the first thing to come out of daniels mouth is QUOTE "u still got those golden locks huh?" WHO SAYS SHIT LIKE THAT DANIEL FUCKING SAN

also amandas immediate reaction "your pretty boy rival?" like. can we talk about the fact that daniel had to have imparted to his wife the very important information that his high school bully/karate rival was like Really Cute and Fucking Hot Actually

the writers Knew exactly what they were doing and honestly.............. power to them

tkk director voice: and billy was just so cute

also I was thinking that daniel sounded strangely fond in that first scene, and i wonder if he developed a weird affection for johnny on the grounds that of all of his Karate Rivals johnny was actually the only one who didn’t actively tried to literally kill him

i was actually delightedly surprised with how great the chemistry between them is, like from the get go i am Invested. their rl friendship totally bleeds through and its fantastic

. granted, idiots enemies to lovers friends is my Thing so i am biased

johnny lawrence: i am down in the dumps, i fucked up my whole life and my sons probably, largely in light of the trauma that the father figure sensei and the philosophy of my karate inflicted on me and all my friends. u know what i should do, as a traumatized, unreliable mess of an adult? teach that same philosophy to some other kids! what could go wrong!

but really i enjoy the setup of it. i kinda like that i watched it late because, season 1 was johnny setting himself up for failure in a way and it was exciting to watch it all go to shit sjfn

Like. his heart might be in the right place, but theres just.... not a way to teach something like ‘strike hard, no mercy’ and not have it fuck up a kid

case and point: aisha, miguel and hawk become annoying as all hell over that bullshit in the end of s1, even before shit gets truly fucked up

billys subtle panicked eyes when he sees hawk and miguel fighting dirty in the all valley was SO GOOD especially in parallel with the panic that is so visible in his face in the movie when kreese tells bobby to injure daniel and in the sweep the leg scene

seen people question wether kreese should have returned and i absolutely think he needed to. johnny needed to realize that cobra kais fundamentals are flawed, at the root, beyond kreese himself being a toxic piece of shit

also who are we kidding? we are here to see the tkk characters play on new playgrounds!

i get what they're doing abt kreeses backstory, ( also. cobra kai. pq eles caem nas cobras djjs sorry) but did it need to take up that much time? feels like they couldve done it in half the run time and developed some other stories better

martin kove has such an evil eye. i love it

love that we get a good follow up to kreese breaks johnnys trophy and tries to CHOKE HIM in the parking lot, which happened in the movie and then....................... was never mentioned again

“the gang is all back together again” aaaa u piece of SHIT

also. terry silver is definetely appearing ha ha ha PAIN i cant wait

seen ppl say kreese was too much of a cartoon villain like..........................oh......... sweetie........... u dont even Know

interested how johnny will fit into that bc kreese was simping rly hard for johnny here. like i did not expect him to be so adamant to have him with cobra kai ... under his control, sure, but he really wants johnny by his side despite already having control of the dojo and how will terry silver self appointed jon kreeses forever simp going to feel abt that?

like bitchs dropping by every episode like ‘joooooohnny ..... come bacc to me joooonny......... this ur last warning! for real this time johnny! i wont say it again! watch me ! im leaving johnny! im rly leaving ! im dragging a chair” and johnny is just like. dont let the door hit ya bitch it was so funny pls

and on that subject oof, johnny! doesnt! Know! he doesnt get that side of daniels cobra kai trauma. and i kind of.............. cannot wait for ck 2021 johnny lawrence to meet terry silver like. what a shit show i need a front row seat and popcorn (imagine terry tries some greasy charm and johnny just roundhouse kicks him in the teeth bc he just doest Not Have the Patience for This. glorious)

feels like we, as a society, should acknowledge that cobra kai will never die................ bc their sense of design is just chefs kiss. their name is COBRA KAI. they have sexie sleeveless black gis. theyve sneks. colorful leather jackets with embroided naja insignia, the get ppl thru the aesthetics. evil geniuses

the flashback cuts : masterpiece behavior

the other takes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! of the movie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the differente angles!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! of the FIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE CLOSE UP ON JOHNNYS FACE AT THE KICK

that scene of daniel and johnny vibing to 80s music in the car. just. oh my god. the fan wish fullfilment. no thoughts head empty.

the new characters! theyre .... good. but. idk. i really like miguel (save for the annoying phase mid s1 - end s2) and amanda, who is a damn riot and has some functioning braincells, but everyone else is

like dont get me wrong, i dont hate anyone,its not a jane and rafael from jtv situation, and i am interested and invested in their arcs, but i wouldnt say i like Like them, as in, personality wise

like, sams grappling with ptsd was rly gutting and i enjoyed that plus her slight rage issues,

which nicely parallel torys rage issues. torys background is all over the place tho so im pretty on the fence abt her so far

robby deserves better in every way, and i like how smart and cunning and surprisingly sweet he is

hawk............... is there i guess,

demetri is annoying in the best way possible,

carmen is sweet but. i just feel like her character is blunted to make the johnny relationship easier. like when shes furious with him after miguels injury but then forgives him like an episode later? and then convinces him to fight for the tournament bc she had a karate epiphany off screen even tho she was always against it? meh. feels like with the plot thiccening she was swallowed and now shes like a crutch for johnny mora than anything, which is disappointing.

aisha was cool and im kinda mad she wasnt in s3, especially bc a storyline with her tory and sam was like RIGHT THERE , but also... cant say i was super super fond of her... doesnt feel like we ever spent enough time on her

moon the bi icon,

overall its a good cast but the main draw for me remains the og cast

the tory/sam miguel/robby Thing. enjoy how theyre Narrative Foils and i like how their stories were so dramatically entangled but oh god give me a break with the teenage love square for the love of god. if u gonna put us through that at least have the decency to not make it so straight

and honestly some sam/tory miguel/robby romantic tension would even make more sense. just saying!

also im not sure how i feel abt the cobra kai: red miyagi do: blue theyre going with since some of daniels most iconic looks in tkk are also red. like it was a color they (johnny and him) sorta shared. i get it, opposite but complementary but idk... a little too fire nation and water tribe for me .

and like the cobra kai kids are so funny abt it bc their outifts grow progressively more ridiculously coordinated. its like do they group chat every morning before leaving their houses?

robby still sticks out like that tho. he went thru an athleisure/daniel san tsleeves phase and now hes back in the bandts grunge, but his color scheme doesnt fully blend with the other cobra kais. hmmmm.

LOVED LOVED LOVED both the okinawa episode and the cobra kais easy rider episode just such good good heart aching fun

bobby is an icon. he was in tkk and he is now ck hope appears more and more

tommy is like the most iconic background character. all his lines, freaking gold then and now. sigh :(

the framing in the okinawa trip was so good everything was so good

i stand by the fact that kumiko was the love interest daniel had the most chemistry with and shes is overall such a joy to watch, loved to see her again, idola, fashion icon

also tkk ii is good u guys are just mean

also really enjoyed chozens role in the episode, his evolution; i love that they introduced the pressure points (ty lee the blueprint) and! the honk + karate! cousins! absolutely iconic

when kumiko reads mr miyagis letters........ oh my god, my eyes FILLED with tears, it was so heart wrenching :(( tamlyns delivery was so emotional and lovely and its so obvious everyone involved in ck has so much love and respect for pat morita and mr miyagi as character, and i adore that it exists like this electric current through the show

when we were watching i told my sister i thought that ali would be miguels big shot surgeon and ngl i am so disappointed that didnt happen. hire me cobra kai writers

also the johnny ali daniel amanda chemistry? off the charts

AND the sassy retconning of daniel and alis breakup! LMAO ‘I HOPE U DIDNT TELL MR MIYAGI IT WAS MY FAULT’ HFDJJGNKFKSD

i am preeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetty sure back injuries dont work like that but oke

daniel and johnny are so good together whenever, like they never actually help the kids or get shit done and end up fighting anyway but its just so much fun when theyre hanging

JOHNNY LAWRENCE AND DANIEL LARUSSO FIGHTING TOGETHER

daniels “plan” on how to get robby to juvie was so stupid. literally were u TRYING to make him hate you. dumbass

parents at those hearing rly brave for ppl that did not do ANYTHING as their kids got involved in a karate gang war until now

“bullshit i heard u were the real bully!” i mightve screeched

this s3 ending was SO DRAMATIC omg

everyone is such a MESS go to THERAPY u unhinged motherfckers

also im sorry but uh. a richass neighborhood in california doesnt have some type of neighborhood watch? the larussos rly dont have any security at all? neighbors wont hear the sound of a damn karate brawl happening next door??? also wasnt tory all like ooo i cant go to juvie, my mom yada yada yet shes always running around town getting into fights even at the rich girls house she was kicked out of school for fighting?? ? ?? ?? ? ? ? ?? ? ? girl??

stop destroying the larussos house, its so pretty :((((

sam finding her center looking at mr miyagis picture... uwu maybe

robby yelling ‘U ARE WEAAK’@ johnny \as he is easily blocking him is like.... so funny and so sad to me. sweetheart.

also i know it was meant as ‘oh johnny pushes him and HURTS HIM’ but it just looks like robby runs himself into the lockers and IM SO SORRY I FEEL SO BAD BUT IT WAS SO FUNNY

i like that he and tory are the cobra kai kids now. we need ppl we care abt there to not revert to a good vs evil schtick, and this is the most engaging it could be... tho it hurts that these kids cant catch a break

ah yes "lets bet some real shit on the result of this teen karate tournament bc that is always a great idea" is BACK

so daniel saves johnny from kreese..... maybe johnny will save him from terry 🧐

and dojos unite ohohoho. lets SEE how that’ll work out

miguels face of Despair when the ck defectors and the md kids are bickering like 'this is never gonna work' : gold

also. Johnny Lawrence is gonna learn some myiagi-do karate AHAAHSJAKDFH

ive been waiting for this moment all my lifeeee oh lawrd

final thoughts! there are def things i hope the writers will improve on the next season, but i am very excited for it either way AND i feel like it has made me enjoy the movies even more and that is a win for a reboot/sequel to me!!

#m.#did i procrastinate watching this since it came out and only watched it now bc my sister nagged me to when i said we should #watch karate kid over the holidays?#and then binged the whole thing in two days??#mayhaps and what abt it #cobra kai #the karate kid #its funn #y bc like karate kid is a Childhood movie but i wouldnt say #it was like particularly special for me?#like i wasnt in a fandom or anything #but now.#i might be invested #maybe #talvez

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tailorvizsla · 4 years ago

Note

Momma Mando might I request #19 Domestic Life and #12 First Time with Paz? (Im here for the softz and the spicy apparently?) ~your Angle

Absolutely, my Angle! :D

(Everything is under the cut because I am an absolute dumpster fire of a person and could not control myself. Be ready for filth!)

📚 My Master List 📚

Domestic Life

· Paz usually wakes up pretty early, so he goes to take a shower. When he’s done, he crawls back into bed with you. It might sound weird, but Paz likes watching you sleep, occasionally pressing a kiss to your shoulder, and wondering how he got so damn lucky to marry you.

· As it gets closer to the normal scheduled wakeup time, he starts touching and kissing you everywhere, mapping every part of you that he can reach. He can’t help himself – he has to have his hands on you. Paz is very affectionate in private.

· When he knows you are awake (but still pretending to sleep), he moves down to your sides and tickles you until you break and start to laugh. He loves it when you tickle him back because it usually devolves into play-wrestling. He lets you win sometimes.

· When the alarm goes off, he unwraps the blankets from around you, much like he is celebrating Christmas every morning by your side. After a few stolen kisses, he ushers you to the bathroom (with an affectionate swat to the backside, if that’s your thing).

· From here, he goes to get ready for the day. If you have kids, he’ll get their bags lined up on the table. He’ll put on his own armor and set yours out on the table for you. By now, you’re usually done with your shower, so he gives you something small to eat before physical fitness training – usually a piece of jerky or a boiled egg, just something small to get you through the next few hours.

· If you two have kids, the smaller ones go to the nursery for supervision, while the older ones stay in their beds to sleep in. You and Paz go work out with the rest of the tribe. By the time you are done, the older kids are awake and getting ready to go eat breakfast.

· And oh boy, breakfast is noisy for the Tribe. The children are either sleeping in their plates or wrestling in the aisles – there is no in-between for this lot. You and Paz (and the kids) eat in one of the private rooms so he can take his helmet off. Then you go socialize with people until breakfast hour is over. Sometimes, he will cuddle you in his lap and selfishly keep you all to himself.

· (One time, you two stayed in the private room way past the end of breakfast hour, prompting some smartass to come knock on the door and yell, “This might be a family room, but that doesn’t mean you need to make one in there!”)

· Once the kids are all distributed to their designated teachers for the day, you and Paz share a keldabe kiss and part ways to work. He goes to the armory to do weapons maintenance, or to help someone fix something. Some days, he goes to the shooting range to run morning drills, just so he can keep everyone sharp. Other times, he’ll grab someone who is struggling with something (shooting, sparring, life in general) and coach them through it.

· You two always find a few minutes to sneak off and send the other a sweet message. (Or a loth-cat meme.)

· Lunch is usually eaten alone, though sometimes you and Paz will sneak off for a few minutes alone with each other. (If you have kids, they’re off having fun and don’t want to be supervised because they get away with so much more.)

· After lunch, more work. Paz goes to oversee afternoon drills for the adults, though these aren’t that common. Most of the time, after morning lessons, he and a handful of adults can be found taking the kids out for basic survival lessons. This includes things like building fires, hunting prey for food, and learning to track. Other times, he’s helping teach the kids how to use their jetpacks, flamethrowers, and other weapons.

· When the sun starts to set, everyone does one last walkthrough of the grounds to make sure that everything has been collected and put away. Once indoors, everyone takes a shower and heads to the karyai for dinner. Dinner is a lot quieter than breakfast, since the kids are usually worn out by this point.

· After dinner, the elders take the kids to teach them about Mandalorian history and culture while the adults go take care of communal chores (like cleaning, organizing, and finding whatever the children have broken). When that’s all done, some people go to the karyai to play music and socialize, while others have to go to bed early. You and Paz stay for a few songs before retiring for the evening.

· Once back in your room, you and Paz will take your time getting ready to sleep. If you’re feeling particularly saucy, you and Paz will have a rematch on that wrestling match. 😉

(Your) First Time (was) with Paz Vizla ohhhh yeah, now at the 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥SPICY🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 stuff

· Paz Vizla is attracted to strong, confident, and competent partners. The two of you met during combat. You had been taking cover behind some rubble to reload your weapons and he had dived in with you, quite literally running into you. Just a few moments later, someone tried to take the two of you by surprise. So you had whipped his blaster out of his holster and shot the fucker dead. Paz had been torn between being offended and impressed at your quick reflexes as you cheekily put his blaster back where it belonged.

· (Hint: he was smitten from that moment onward.)

· For six long months, he flirted with you. He started subtly at first – brushing up against you, standing a little too close during conversations, and warning off other potential suitors. Subtlety didn’t sink in, so he decided to ratchet up the intensity. He shared his ammunition with you. He lent you his weapons. He offered you food from his plate. He shared his drink with you. He bought you chocolate. He complimented you. He did everything that he could, yet it never seemed to progress past flirtation.

· At some point Din Djarin noticed the lack of response and slyly chimed in with, “Come on, stop torturing Paz and let him have a kiss, why don’t you?”

· Paz will never forget the moment that it seemed to click in your head. You stopped dead in your tracks, turned to face him, and asked, “Paz, have…have you been flirting with me?”

· He was stunned into silence and could only manage to nod once in response as you just stared at him. Then you shyly said, “Oh…I didn’t want to assume you would be interested in me.” (Din nearly knocked himself out face-palming at your words.)

· From there, things progress the way he intended, though still quite slowly. The two of you share lots of flirting, a quick grope every now and again, and many stolen keldabe kisses when no one is looking.

· You aren’t sure what tips him off about your inexperience – maybe it’s your shaking fingers when it comes time to explore his lower half, or maybe the look of apprehension in your eyes – but he stops you, pulls you into a gentle embrace, and kisses your forehead.

· Paz assures you that he will wait as long as you need, that your relationship isn’t based on you indulging his physical urges, and that you mean so much more to him. (But dear gods, the sweet wide-eyed look you gave him after holding his cock in your tiny hand for the first time…he masturbated to that mental image for months.)

· It takes a few more fumbling tries before you are ready. (You had always been a bit self-conscious about not having any sexual experiences. Even now that you’ve enjoyed your first sexual experience, you’d still choose a good hunt over fucking. Paz knows this, and he would do the same 100%.)

· As the two of you tumble back onto the bed, he makes you a promise, one that makes your cheeks turn pink. “I’m going to ruin you for any other man in this universe, babygirl,” he promises. “I’m going to be the one they all have to measure against, alright?”

· Paz Vizla is a very patient man. He worships you with his fingers and mouth and that sinfully talented tongue of his, touching and kissing, sometimes biting if you will let him. He has you breathless, soaked, and trembling before he even thinks about going down on you.

· When he gets between your legs, the look of pure hunger on his face makes you blush, and you shyly try to bring your knees together.

· Leaning in, he locks eyes with you, and presses the tip of his tongue against your clenching, aching entrance. Then slowly, he drags his tongue up to your swollen, throbbing clit. He pulls away just far enough to speak, “You taste real good, babygirl. Looks like I’m going to be spending a lot of time down here.” He is quite pleased with himself when you turn scarlet all the way down to your belly button.

· Once he’s had that first taste of you, Paz returns to your pussy, devouring you like a man possessed. He talks to you the entire time, telling you how good you taste, of how much he wants to stay between your thighs and make you come undone, over and over on his tongue, of how he enjoys being drenched in your slick.

· He gives you two or three orgasms before he tries any sort of penetration. He watches you carefully as he eases his finger in. You sigh with pleasure and that’s enough encouragement for him. He works that finger in and out until he hears a quiet whisper from you – “Paz, please – another finger?”

· The moan you let out when he works his second finger in almost makes him cum right then and there. But he holds it back until you start begging for a third finger. When you come around his fingers for the sixth (or was it seventh?) time that night, he thinks you are ready for his cock.

· Paz kisses his way up your belly, to your breasts, and then your lips. You don’t hesitate to taste yourself on his lips. He grinds his cock against you, coating himself in your slick, until you’re all blushing and grinding your hips against his.

· He rises up on his knees and looks at you. You are an absolute disaster – your hair’s a mess from your writhing, your pupils are blown wide open, and your entire body is blushed and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Your chest is heaving, your back is arched, and your thighs are spread so fucking beautifully for him. Paz feels deep, dark pride at having reduced you into a quivering, whining, dripping mess.

· He starts to push in slowly, carefully measuring each rock of his hips to avoid hurting you. He knows he is huge. Many of his partners simply could not take him. Inch by inch, Paz watches his massive cock disappear into you, and suddenly, he realizes he likes watching you stretch out around him, your plump lips clinging to his shaft each time he pulls out a bit.

· After several torturous minutes, Paz finds himself buried to the hilt inside you, his pubic bone pressed up against your clit. In surprise, he can’t help but to whisper to you, “Babygirl, it’s like this sweet pussy was made to take my cock.” When you clench around him, he can’t help himself. He needs to move. Urgently.

· Paz bites on his inner cheeks as he starts a slow, careful pace, watching as you moan and writhe underneath him, your hips rising to meet his thrusts. You’ve gone absolutely feral at this point, your nails leaving bright red marks along his shoulders and back, your thighs tight around his waist as you dig your heels into his ass urgently. With one final cry, you come for him, your walls squeezing him so tight he feels like you’re gonna push him out.

· When you’ve had a minute to catch your breath, he laces you legs onto his shoulders and arches forward onto his hands. Now that he knows you fit him like a glove, he’s rougher, pulling out nearly completely before sheathing himself fully in one smooth, deep stroke. When you reach down for your clit, he can feel your cunt rippling around him. Then he asks, “Babygirl, can I come in you?”

· Blushing, you nod up at him, “Yes, please!” Paz can’t hold out at that – he slams into you, wrenching half-sobs from your throat, your body rising to meet his, and then you come with a shriek. He follows, pulsing his cum into you as deep as he can, grinding against you to draw out his orgasm as your pussy milks every single drop of cum out of him. When he can breathe again, Paz rests inside of you for a few moments, watching you as you lay there, your eyes half-closed and a dazed smile on your face.

· He pulls out with a wet noise, watching as you squirm. He stays between your knees, watching as your legs fall apart on either side of him on the bed. As his cum starts to leak back out, he gathers it with his fingers and pushes it back into you. Slowly, you gather your withs about yourself, and ask, “When can we do that again?”

· By the end of the night, he’s absolutely certain that he’s fulfilled his promise to you. There won’t ever be a man who can compare to him, not after tonight.

#paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla x reader #blame hdlynn for this #i am innocent in all ways #i cannot control myself #paz is daddy #rejoice in the filth #where's that 'kermit on fire' meme right now

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lloydskywalkers · 5 years ago

Text

There’s Insurance for That

In which Skylor buys lunch, stops a criminal, and learns the best way to blow up the kitchen electronics section, which is a pretty normal week for her, she guesses. Or, five places the ninja are no longer allowed into, featuring Skylor.

(been hitting a bit of a writer’s block with everything else lately, so here’s this...disaster, i guess?? because these ninja are definitely a disaster in this, but i was having fun so. this is the bed bath & beyond fic btw, in case anyone was wondering gdfkgdh)

1. My. Kazami’s Ramen Place

At this point, sadly, Skylor’s used to it.

It’s around a quarter to noon on a Monday, just as she's leaving the noodle shop for her well-deserved lunch break, when a familiar scream splits the relatively-quiet afternoon air on this side of Ninjago City.

The only reason Skylor does not immediately dissolve into panic at said scream is because she is — also sadly — familiar with the variations of it, and this one sounds less like it’s Lloyd’s “I’m-in-terrible-danger-and/or-pain-again” scream, and more like his “I’m-free-falling-on-purpose-from-the-sky-again” scream. Which is, in and of itself, not entirely concerning. In fact, it’d probably be more unusual not to see Lloyd go falling from the sky at some point during any of the ninjas’ higher-than-eight-feet battles, because somehow that’s become a habitual thing. The sky is blue, fire is hot, Kai uses hair gel — Lloyd is going to drop screaming from the sky at some point this month.

So instead of panicking, Skylor figures she’ll just stand in the vicinity until Lloyd either climbs out of another dumpster, or lands on top of her. Kai doesn’t seem to be around to catch him, so Skylor’s prepared to step up, even though it looks like Lloyd’s got a pretty good handle on landing, at the angle she’s watching him from.

Still though, she muses. You’d think he’d have started actively wearing a parachute at this point.

“Kai suggested that,” Lloyd says, after he’s finally able to stand straight, and he’s not quite as cross-eyed. He frowns at his reflection in a store window as they pass by, scuffing at his windblown hair again. “But it gets in the way, you know? It throws off my backflips.”

“That’s a nail in the coffin right there,” Skylor agrees, leading them across another sidewalk. Lloyd’s attracting a lot of looks, with his bright green battle gi and razor-sharp sword strapped across his back, but fortunately no one’s started crowding them yet. Probably because the razor-sharp sword strapped to his back. “Can’t have your fighting style completely crippled,” she adds.

“I don’t backflip that much,” Lloyd huffs. Yes, you do, is on the tip of Skylor’s tongue, because she’s seen him fight, but she decides not to pick that battle…this time.

“Besides,” Lloyd continues. “I don’t really need a parachute, anyways. I always make sure to aim for like, somewhere safe to land. Relatively safe. Safe-ish.”

Skylor eyes him. “You landed in a dumpster.”

Lloyd bristles in offense. “I did not! It was a perfectly respectable recycling bin.”

“Same thing, if you ask me.”

“Not even close. Dumpsters are gross. Recycling bins you just crash through a whole bunch of cardboard and old newspapers. It’s luxury trash diving.”

Skylor just sighs, shaking her head, and edits the text she’s been tapping out for Kai.

Skylor > found your kid in a recycling bin

Skylor > taking him to lunch bc you’re clearly starving him again

Skylor > he’s alive btw

Kai > oh thank fsm

Kai > tell him he’s grounded

Kai > u never take me for lunch :(

Skylor > maybe if u dropped on me from the sky sometime i would

“Hey, are the others busy?” she asks Lloyd in afterthought. “Like…fighting anyone?”

“Huh?” Lloyd blinks. He then flushes, rubbing the back of his head. “Ah, no. We’d pretty much finished up the fight when I, uh…there was a break-in, on the Bounty? We had the guys all taken care of, but they blew part of the mast up, and it left debris all over the deck, so I kind of…maybe….tripped…”

Lloyd is bright red by the time he finishes the sentence. Skylor wouldn’t feel so bad about it, if she wasn’t doubled over laughing at him in the middle of rush hour traffic.

“You are a trained ninja,” she breathes out, between snickers.

“I know,” Lloyd moans.

“You’re like, part god.”

“I know,” Lloyd moans again, into his hands this time. Skylor has to grab his shoulders and forcibly drag him along down the crowded street, trying not to cringe inside at all the looks they’re getting.

“Kai says you’re grounded, by the way,” she says, as the last of her laughter fades.

That snaps Lloyd out of it. “He can’t ground me,” he scowls. “I’m leader.”

“Stop falling from the sky, and maybe he’ll give it a rest,” Skylor replies, glancing down as her phone buzzes again.

Kai > I’d join u but I’m stuck on prison delivery

Kai > nya’s coming to pick up the demon spawn tho

Skylor > nice I’ve been wanting to buy her lunch

Kai > cruel

“—don’t know what you mean, I don’t fall that often, and most of the time it’s on purpose, anyways—”

Skylor chooses to ignore Lloyd’s slightly-concerning, sulking rambling, and pats his shoulder instead. “Nya’s coming for lunch, too,” she says. “Does ramen sound good?”

“Oh, yeah.” Lloyd brightens, seemingly cheered by the reminder he’s getting food out of this. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten out.”

“I can tell,” Skylor says, eyeing him. “Cole hasn’t been cooking for you, has he?"

“No, but we put Zane on mandatory break so he could relax a bit, and we’re all suffering for it.”

Lloyd and Skylor both jump at Nya’s voice, not having heard her coming up behind them.

“Nya!” Lloyd beams. “Skylor is — ouch, hey, let go!”

“That’s what you get for giving me gray hairs again,” Nya scolds, digging her knuckles into Lloyd’s hair. She looks up from the hold she’s pulled him into, and smiles brightly at Skylor. “Hi, Skylor. Nice to see you.”

“Hi, Nya.” Skylor gives a little wave, watching Lloyd squirm out of Nya’s grasp in amusement.

“So, ramen?” Nya says, giving Lloyd one last elbow in the side before joining Skylor.

“Yeah,” she says. “I was thinking the place down on seventh, the Sobahouse, I think?”

Lloyd and Nya both stiffen, their steps slowing. Skylor pauses, turning to stare at them in confusion. “That’s not the one owned by someone named Mr. Kazami, is it?” Nya finally asks, hesitantly.

“Uh, yeah, it is, actually,” Skylor blinks. “He’s pretty nice, we go to the same grocer on weekends.”

“Ah,” Lloyd says, carefully.

“Hm,” Nya hesitates.

Skylor looks between the two of them, now completely stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. She really hopes no one is getting pictures of her like this. There are enough flash articles about the rumored orange ninja cryptid on the internet as it is. “Is that…a problem?”

Nya pointedly stares at the sky as if it’s the most interesting thing she’s seen all day. Baffled, Skylor tries the weaker link. Lloyd swallows, avoiding her eyes as he bounces from leg to leg, as if the mere thought of trying to enter the restaurant is terrifying. Which is mildly alarming, because this is the same kid who power-walked straight into a prison full of escaped violent criminals, his psychotic ex, and his undead murderous dad without hesitation.

“We can’t,” Lloyd finally mutters, staring at the sidewalk. Nya elbows him in the side, hissing “weak link” as she does. Lloyd just glares at her.

“O-okay,” Skylor says, unsure. “I mean, that’s fine if you guys want to go somewhere else. I just didn’t know you…didn’t like this place…”

“No, we do,” Lloyd grinds out, and he looks more embarrassed than terrified now, so Skylor aborts her half-formed plans of speed-dialing Karloff. “We just can’t. Go in, that is. We’re not allowed to.”

Skylor stares at him. “You’re not allowed in? Why not?”

“Because,” Nya forces through gritted teeth. “They banned us.”

“They what?” Skylor gapes.

Nya presses her lips together tightly. Lloyd stares very hard at the ground, as if desperately trying to convince himself to keep quiet. Skylor can pinpoint the moment he breaks, his expression contorting as he throws his hands up wildly. “You blow their electrical system up one time—”

“Oh guys, no,” Skylor groans, before bursting into laughter at him for the second time that day. Lloyd looks incredibly unappreciative, his expression scrunching up in annoyance like she hasn’t seen since that one stupid skating match with Chamille, and that just makes her laugh harder.

“We were trying to save them!” Nya defends indignantly. “It’s not our fault they had weak wiring—”

“I just got a little too into it, it’s — it’s Nya’s fault, she’s the one that said it’d be cool if I tried to do shockwave thing like in—”

“That was a mutual thing and you know it!”

“Oh guys, no,” Skylor wheezes into her hands.

“It worked!”

“Poor Mr. Kazami,” Skylor manages, through snickers. Lloyd’s shoulders slump, his upper lip pouting, and Nya crosses her arms, as if refusing to look ashamed.

“It’s not like the other guys aren’t banned from anywhere, either—”

“Alright, alright,” Skylor waves her hands, taking pity on them. “We’ll go somewhere else.”

“Good,” Nya mutters, as Lloyd exhales in relief. Skylor just snickers again, leading them down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. She bites her lip, shaking her head, before a thought occurs to her.

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘it’s not like they aren’t banned from anywhere’?” she frowns. “You guys are banned from more than one place?”

“No,” Nya says firmly, before Lloyd can even speak up. “Forget I said anything.”

Skylor will do no such thing, but she decides it’s in her best interest not to pursue it. Nya is not the sort of person to trifle with, and she does want that ramen.

She gets her answer soon enough, anyways.

2. Ninjago City Aquarium

While Skylor has the early shift on Tuesdays, she does get the afternoons off, which is pretty nice for the most part, if it didn’t mean she’d be bored for the rest of the day. So she hits the grocery store and decides to take the long way home, partially because walking is supposed to be good for you, and partially in hopes that one of the ninja will drop in on her again.

She’s not disappointed.

Granted, a minor explosion going off from inside the Ninjago City Aquarium wasn’t exactly what she was expecting today, but the figures in bright red and white arguing furiously outside the security perimeter are par for the course.

It’s a little odd that they haven’t already rushed in yet, Skylor notes, but with the way they’re loudly yelling at each other in the middle of the street, she figures she’ll find out soon enough.

“No, Kai, it is our civic duty to follow the laws put in place for the safety of civilians—”

“Oh come on, you get brainwashed into a slightly-murderous emperor one time and now you’re a stickler for everything?!”

"One time was enough, Kai!”

“Uh, hi guys,” Skylor approaches the two, hesitantly. “Is everything alright?”

“Skylor!” Kai whirls on her, his eyes wild. “Thank FSM, you’ve gotta help us out — they won’t let us in!” He shakes his fist at the aquarium doors, before springing for the security gate. “Let us in, let us in—”

“Shaking the gate like an animal is not going to convince them, Kai!” Zane pleads, prying Kai away. He shoots Skylor an apologetic glance as he wrangles Kai into a gentle chokehold. “We would greatly appreciate your help, if possible. There’s a low-threat criminal with an unfortunate assortment of weaponry who ran into the aquarium, and we’re legally unable to pursue. If you could try to drive him out, perhaps?”

“I — you — you’re what?” Skylor has the weirdest sense of déjà vu, before it’s lost in confusion. Her head swivels from the frustrated expression on Kai’s face to the pleading one on Zane’s, then to the grocery bags in her hands. She looks back up at Kai, who’s now giving her the puppy eyes. Something from inside the aquarium explodes loudly.

“Sure,” she sighs, handing Kai her grocery bags. “Just one guy?”

“Just one guy,” Kai exhales in relief. “You’re a lifesaver, Skylor, I — hey, are these those snack cakes they made to look like us?”

“Yes, eat them and you die,” Skylor hisses. She turns to Zane, holding her hand out half-hesitantly. “Lend a girl some ice powers?”

“Of course,” Zane nods, letting her take his hand. There’s a brief moment as Skylor melds her power with Zane’s, absorbing the icy force and mimicking it to her own — a part of her notes vaguely that it’s stronger than the last time she borrowed it, but she shakes it off, pulling her hand back and tugging the hood of her jacket up, mentally hoping no one writes another article about the possible existence of a cryptid orange ninja after this.

“Alright,” she says. “Be back in five.”

“Thank you,” Zane says fervently, as Kai sputters, “Hey, why didn’t you borrow my power?”

“Because fire is explosive, and you’ve gotta be banned from here for a reason!” Skylor calls back, ice already misting over her fingertips as she sprints inside the aquarium.

“You’d be surprised,” Kai mutters, after her retreating back.

***********************

“So,” Skylor says, flexing her right hand and wincing briefly. That last right hook she’d thrown at the guy might have been a little too hard, in hindsight. But he was being a jerk, and threatening to set off a bomb near the little seahorses — and it did do the trick, so now the aquarium can have the host of cop cars off its back. Skylor feels pretty accomplished in her good deed for the day, actually. “Why, again, couldn’t you guys have taken care of that yourselves? Not that I minded,” she adds, quickly. Using the ice element had been fun. She’d forgotten what she could do with Zane’s powers.

Kai gives a nervous laugh that’s so fake it almost hurts, especially with the pained expression he makes at the end. Zane just rubs his temple with a hand, looking eternally weary.

“Like I said, we are legally not permitted to enter the aquarium, until…when was it again, Kai?”

“Five years from now,” Kai mutters. “Or whenever the director dies.”

“Yes, five years from now,” Zane repeats, with a dead sort of look in his eyes. “So your assistance was very much appreciated. Thank you.”

“It was no problem, but — wait, hold on, how are you banned from the aquarium for five years?” she stutters. “I mean, I can get Lloyd and Nya with the ramen place—”

“Ha! They told you about that? It was great—”

“Kai, please.”

“—and I can understand Kai, but you, Zane?”

She feels a little guilty for calling him out so bluntly, but it’s Zane. Zane doesn’t just get banned from places, she has to know. And he doesn’t look too upset at the question. Kai looks mildly betrayed, but not that much. They both know Skylor’s point is too valid for him to argue with effectively.

Zane gives another bone-weary sigh. “There is a small chance, that there was a time we were pursuing another villain here, and during that battle, I might have…underestimated the amount of ice I was putting out.” Zane shifts, looking pained. “Which in turn accidentally spread to any bodies of liquid that happened to be nearby at the time, which perhaps were filled with rather expensive aquatic life.”

“You froze a fish exhibit,” Skylor deadpans.

“They were merely in extreme hibernation,” Zane grits out. “They would have been fine, had Kai not tried to fix the ice.”

“Hey, it made sense! I could melt it quickest!”

“Except you didn’t just melt it, did you? No, you had an entire fish fry—”

“The poor fish,” Skylor says, staring at them blankly. “What were they?”

“Like, these rainbow fish, from way up north, I think?” Kai says. “I swear I didn’t make it that hot.”

“The water was boiling, Kai!”

“You fish murderer,” Skylor says, the corners of her mouth trembling with the laugh she’s holding back. Kai glares at Zane, then her, then Zane again.

“I didn’t freeze them solid.”

“Whatever the cause of their death, they died, and we’re banned now,” Zane says, hastily. “End of story. Would you like to take this back to the Bounty, Skylor? I know the others have been wanting to see you, and we can at least offer you tea in thanks.” He eyes the grocery bags Kai’s still holding. “Unless, of course, you wish to return home…”

“Nah, tea sounds good,” she smiles. “Besides, I bought the snack cakes for you guys to try anyways. They’ve got little squashed ninja faces in icing on ‘em.”

“You’re the best,” Kai says, looking somewhat relieved, and oh, he definitely ate one while Skylor was in there. She’s going to have to pay him back for that one…

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she says airily, figuring she’ll take her revenge later. “You can tell me more about the fish massacre on our way back. By the way, Pixal wouldn’t happen to have heard this story, would she?”

Zane gives her a look, and she almost feels bad about it. “I’m going to regret inviting you, aren’t I.”

“Maybe,” she grins. “Jury’s still out.”

3. An Entire Drugstore Chain

Wednesdays are always busy at the noodle shop, for reasons Skylor has yet to figure out. Fridays she understands, but the middle of the week? Nothing kills your drive like knowing you’re going to do this all over again in a day.

It’s good money for the shop though, she reminds herself as she locks up that evening. Any money is good money for the shop, because her stupid dad made sure she’d have a real hole to dig herself out of there, but Wednesday money is always especially good. Even if she ends up leaving the shop late and can’t get the noodle smell from her hair for the next three days.

Normally, she’d trudge home and crash into bed after these kind of shifts. But tonight is different, because she stayed long enough at the Bounty yesterday to get invited to game night, and once you’ve promised the ninja you’re going to bring snacks for Monopoly, you can’t just say no. Not unless you want Lloyd to shoot betrayed glares at you the rest of the month.

Besides, she’s promised Kai she’ll sneak out to the movies with him afterwards, and she can’t just go breaking that promise. Plus, she’s not heartless enough to deny Cole cake when he’s got the most spectacular black eye she’s seen all year bruising up around the left side of his face.

“Lucky hit,” Cole grumbles, after she’s been caught staring too long. She hasn’t wanted to ask him about it, since it seems a sensitive subject and he’s already taking the time to help her pick up (carry) all the snacks. But it’s impossible to miss, even in the dim streetlights they’re walking under, and Skylor cares about her friends, thank you very much. “We busted some drug dealers today, and I got too relaxed.”

“They normally really aren’t any match for you, to be fair,” Skylor offers.

“They weren’t this time either, that’s the sad thing,” Cole says, scrubbing a hand through his thick hair as they wait at the stoplight. “This was all on me. I kinda deserved it.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Skylor tries to console him, even though the ugly red at the edge of his eye says otherwise.

Cole gives her a bleak look. “Jay made a joke, and I laughed at it. And then I got hit across the face with a baseball bat, mid-laugh.”

“Ouch,” Skylor hisses through her teeth. “Never mind, that’s bad. Was it a good joke, at least?”

“No, that’s the thing,” Cole groans, as the light finally turns red, allowing them to cross the street. “It was terrible. And I still laughed hard enough not to notice a bat coming for my face.”

Skylor grimaces. “You were just being a good friend, I guess,” she says, and Cole snorts. “Like you are to me, right now,” she continues, glancing ruefully at the shopping list she’s been sent. “I was going to say I had it handled, then I actually looked at everything you guys asked for.”

Cole laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s…that’s us, I guess. Sorry about that. We’re paying for it all, don’t worry.”

“What?” Skylor blinks. Oh no, no way. The ninja have done enough for her, the least she can do is cover a couple bags of popcorn and like ten things of M&M’s. “No, I got it. I owe you guys, anyways.”

Cole bristles. “No way. We owe you, if anything. The amount of times you’ve covered our tab at the noodle shop?”

“How about the amount of times you’ve saved my noodle shop?” Skylor shoots back. “That outweighs a few measly tabs.”

“The only reason we had to save it was because we were there in the first place,” Cole points out. “We’re danger magnets.”

“I’m sorry, I’m the daughter of Chen, remember?” Skylor huffs. “I can attract enemies all by myself.”

“Not as many as we do,” Cole says. “Also! You helped us beat Chen, and get Zane back. We’re eternally indebted to you.”

Skylor narrows her eyes. “Only after I stabbed you all in the back. So I eternally owe you.”

“Bold of you to assume we haven’t all stabbed each other in the back at some point,” Cole scoffs. “Trust me, you’re nowhere as bad as Lloyd — he like, single-handedly ruined our whole month by letting a bunch of snakes out.”

Skylor pauses at that, torn between refuting his argument and asking how in the world Lloyd, of all people, could possibly manage to wreak enough havoc to—

Actually, she doesn’t have any trouble believing that at all. But to be sure— “Lloyd let the Serpentine out? All by himself?”

Cole looses a bit of his fire, and scuffs his shoe awkwardly across the sidewalk. “I mean, we did give him a pretty hard time when he was like, eight years old and homeless and starving, so uh, it might’ve been a little...provoked.”

“FSM’s sake,” Skylor mutters, staring at the sky and trying not to be surprised, because she really shouldn’t by now. “I can’t believe you guys are all still alive.”

“Neither can we, if it helps,” Cole shrugs, grinning. “But you know, technically—”

“If you make another ghost joke, we’re skipping the cake section,” Skylor says, firmly.

Cole sulks. “Jay would’ve made a ghost joke,” he mutters.

“Jay also got you hit in the face by a bat, so his judgement is questionable as it is,” Skylor shakes her head. “Oh! There’s a drugstore right here, wanna hit that instead?”

“Sure,” Cole says. “As long as it’s not…oh.”

Skylor makes it another three steps before she realizes that Cole’s fallen behind. Confused, she turns to stare at him where he’s frozen on the sidewalk, looking up at the bright red drugstore sign and biting his lip.

“Everything okay back there?” Skylor says, wondering if he didn’t get hit in the head harder than he’s let on. Cole nods, but he also takes several steps back out of the streetlight, hiding himself from view of the store.

“Here’s an idea,” he says, suddenly. “How about we go anywhere else.”

Skylor stares at him, a sinking feeling in her chest coupled with the slowly-growing-familiar sense of déjà-vu. “Cole.” He doesn’t meet her eyes, and Skylor sighs. “Please tell me you haven’t been banned from somewhere, too.”

“It’s not just me, Lloyd and Jay also got banned,” Cole snaps, before realizing his mistake and ducking his head.

“You’re kidding me,” Skylor says flatly, looking back at the drugstore, then to Cole. “This is like, the shadiest drugstore on this side on Ninjago. How?”

Cole mumbles something under his breath, and Skylor strains to make it out. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I kind of, um, threw Lloyd through their wall,” Cole mutters again, looking as if he’d like very much to disappear entirely into the street side. Which is funny, because—

His sentence finally registers, and Skylor blinks rapidly. “Wait, you what?”

Cole’s eyes widen, and waves his arms quickly. “Not like — not like Garmadon-throwing him through a wall! He was fine after.”

Skylor has a brief, bizarre kind of moment to digest the fact that there is a distinction for throwing the youngest of their team through a wall, before Cole continues.

“I was aiming for the window — that one right there, see? The robbers were already on the move, so Lloyd was like ‘launch me, Cole’ and I said ‘great idea’, but we were also maybe high on adrenaline at the time and I forgot how much of my lava punch I had going, so I overshot and ended up smashing him through their wall, a little bit.”

“You smashed him through their wall. Just a little bit.”

“Hey, it worked. He took out all five guys in one go and only had a tiny concussion after—”

“How do you even have a tiny concussion—”

“I still don’t get why they were so mad, I mean we stopped the robbery! Sure, half their storefront wall sort of collapsed afterwards, but like, we got their money back.”

“So that’s why they were closed six months for renovations,” Skylor groans into her hands.

Cole crosses his arms, glaring stubbornly at the store’s sign. “It wasn’t six months,” he protests. “It was only like, four. I don’t see how that gives them the right to ban us for life.”

“For life—” Skylor can’t decide if she wants to laugh at him, or cry because her list of places she can hang out with the ninja is shrinking faster than she’d thought possible. She finally blows her breath out, rubs a hand across her face, and glances back down at the shopping list.

“You aren’t banned from the one on eighth street, are you?”

Cole bites his lips. “We’re uh, banned from all of them. It’s a chain store, so…”

“Of course,” Skylor sighs. “Walmart it is, then.”

And if anyone pesters them about being late, she’s going to ask how many times, exactly, somebody’s smashed Lloyd through a wall. Because really. This is getting ridiculous.

4. Bed Bath & Beyond

Thursday is normally her day off, but whatever she had for dinner last night gave her freaky dreams, so Skylor ends up puttering around the shop early that morning just to take her mind off it. It’s a bit overcast outside, and the forecast predicts rain, so Skylor’s already making plans to curl up in her bed and watch movies all day, and maybe get a bit of laundry done.

She should know better.

It’s a commonly known fact that the ninja, Kai especially, would do pretty much anything for their pseudo-little brother. Skylor’s actually heard Kai, on multiple occasion, threaten to die for Lloyd, then immediately try and make it reality. No one ever really appreciates that, Lloyd especially, but Skylor can give him credit for trying.

However, it’s a commonly overlooked fact that Lloyd would do anything for his pseudo-older siblings. It’s an even more commonly overlooked fact that Lloyd is the spawn of satan, and was raised at a boarding school for future villains and terrible children. Combined, these two facts mean that while you should definitely fear Lloyd trying to die for you, you should probably fear him trying to look out for you more, because it’s likely going to end with somebody dead. Or at least the total disruption of your plans for the day, as Skylor opens the shop windows to come face with an absolutely terrifying expression on Lloyd’s face, followed up by a deadly calm “Kai came home sad last night.”

Skylor scrubs at her eyes, and thinks, it’s too early for this.

A while back, when she was still stuck with her jerk of a father, Skylor might have found Lloyd’s part-Oni expression of doom intimidating. Now, however, she just rolls her eyes, and sticks one of the little ‘50% Off!’ stickers she’s been putting on rice cakes across his forehead.

“The dog died in the last movie we saw last night,” she explains, as Lloyd sputters at her.

He pauses, nose wrinkling. “Oh,” he says. “Boo.”

“Yeah,” she says, stepping back and allowing him to neatly front-flip through her window. Darned show-off kid, she thinks despairingly, watching him land perfectly on her freshly-waxed floors.

“Well, you’re good then, I guess,” he says, expression lightening. “That makes sense. How many movies did you make it into this time, by the way?”

“Only four this time,” Skylor sighs, turning to plaster the rest of her stickers on the nearly-expired rice cake packages. “We caught the beginning of that new superhero movie, then the opening fight of some spy movie, and the middle of that one horror movie with the dolls.” Lloyd shudders. “Yeah, Kai wasn’t a fan either. Anyways, we made it into this new romance one, but we ran into a theater employee on the way in and Kai had a guilt attack, so we stayed until the end of that one.”

Lloyd tsks. “Oh, Kai. And he’s so sold on his bad boy image.”

“One day he’ll embrace the fact that he’s just a big softie,” Skylor nods. “One of these days.”

“Yeah, when hell freezes over,” Lloyd snorts. He glances around at the empty shop, then back at her. “Hey, today’s your day off, right?”

Skylor gets a sinking kind of feeling in her stomach at that, alarm bells going off in the back of her head. “It might be,” she says, warily.

“Good,” Lloyd grins. “You should come to Bed Bath and Beyond with us, then.”

Well, she wasn’t expecting that. “Why…would you be going there?” she asks, blankly. Do they have a secret ninja weapon bargain bin she’s been missing out on? Is Bed Bath & Beyond secretly hosting an illegal crime ring she’s been unaware of? Does she need to return the shower curtain rings she bought there last week on basis of being a good citizen?

“Zane froze the blender solid before practice this morning,” Lloyd explains, his mouth twisting a bit. “We were making smoothies and someone accidentally brought up the Never Realm.”

“Ouch,” Skylor winces sympathetically. She’s still not heard the entire story of what went down during the ninja’s jaunt out of realm, besides a whole lot of panicked texts from Pixal and half-explanations from Kai, but she knows it wasn’t fun, especially for poor Zane.

“Yeah,” Lloyd sighs. “So now our blender is dead and we can’t make smoothies anymore, so we’re buying a new one before Nya can start strangling people. Wanna come?”

Skylor eyes him shrewdly. At face, it’s an innocent enough request. She’s certainly been invited to worse places than a household furnishings store, and picking up a blender is quite possibly the simplest thing the ninja have ever asked her to do. Which probably just means it’s going to go horribly and the store’s going to blow up ten minutes in, but hey, Skylor’s day was looking pretty boring anyway.

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs. “Lemme stick the last of these on, and I’m in. Just — hey, no, I’m selling those!”

Lloyd freezes in place, the rice cake package dangling from his fingers. He gives her the most pathetically sad-eyed look she’s ever seen, and not for the first time, Skylor finds herself wondering how this is the same kid who runs a highly-skilled ninja team of unimaginable power.

“Just the one,” she finally relents, because Skylor is a spineless weakling when it comes to puppy eyes, apparently. Lloyd beams, snatching the cakes up happily. “And just because you look like a starving vagrant again.”

“I do not,” Lloyd protests, through a muffled mouthful of rice cake. “I’m just super in shape. I’m jacked as heck.”

Skylor rolls her eyes. “Sure you are, you — hey, I said just one!”

***********************

So Skylor ends up at Bed Bath & Beyond on her day off, five minutes after the store’s opened for the day, and already wishing she’d slept in later.

Nya brings her coffee, though, and their bright-eyed enthusiasm at reclaiming their means of smoothie-making is infectious, so Skylor finds herself in high spirits as they walk through the store doors, almost to the point where she lets Lloyd go for stealing all her rice cakes.

However, she’s already let him get away with too much as it is, so Skylor decides to take her revenge by ruffling Lloyd’s hair, before informing the sales lady that it’s her “darling little brother’s thirteenth birthday, and he’s finally outgrown his kiddie bed, could you point us to the big kid ones, please?”

Lloyd’s attempts at strangling her are thwarted by Nya as the lady smiles airily, before pointing them to the back, and Zane has to drag Kai along with them before he suffocates on the laughter he’s choking back.

“Family shopping trips are always so much fun,” Jay remarks, as they browse the bedding section, having been successfully distracted by the animal-shaped pillows. They’ve already had to flee the lamp section, after Lloyd and Jay started having a little too much fun, despite Kai’s despair over being robbed yet again of a new lava lamp.

“One day,” he mourns. “One day, I will own another.”

Skylor pats his back consolingly. “I’m sure that’s what everyone else whose lava lamps got smashed by a giant stone colossi say.”

“I still don’t see why we can’t invest in a cappuccino maker,” Nya pouts, as they pass the coffee appliances section. “Look, there’s one on sale, too!”

“Because you can and will abuse the use of it, and then someone will end up going to the hospital for extreme heart rate elevation,” Zane glares pointedly at her. Skylor smothers a laugh as Nya scowls.

“I’m not that bad,” she grumbles under her breath, only for the others to all chime “ice cube incident” in unison. Nya goes a dark shade of red and glares at the floor as if she’s capable of lighting it on on fire with her eyes, but she doesn’t argue back.

Skylor doesn’t even want to know.

“Alright, here are our options,” Cole announces, when they’ve finally fought their way to the blender shelves. “We can get the same one we had, just a little smaller, or we can get this other one that’s half-off.” He squints at both tags. “Having looked at our bank account recently, I vote the half-off one.”

“No way,” Jay argues. “Do you see how small that one is? I can’t make my triple-espresso energy-drink smoothie with that!”

Lloyd stares at him in concern. “That’s…probably a good thing?”

Jay glares at him. “You’re one to talk, Mr. night owl.”

“I’m with Jay, that one’s way too small,” Nya says. “It won’t do.”

“What, and the other one’s better?” Kai shoots back. “Look how cheap it is, I could break this thing in my sleep.”

“The online reviews for both are perfectly fine,” Zane adds, half-heartedly, as if he already knows they’re all going to ignore that particular statement.

“What about this one?” Jay says, his eyes lighting up as he gestures to the extra-large, fancy blender. “Think of all the smoothies we could make, Cole. Think of the milkshakes.”

Cole pinches the bridge of his nose. “We are not investing in some fancy blender, just for you to complain it’s too complicated five seconds in.”

Skylor crosses over to the blenders, glancing at both. “I mean, you could always just return it…later…” She trails off, realizing that everyone’s suddenly gone deadly silent. She looks up, and starts as she comes face to face with the store manager, who is frozen in place, his mouth half-open as he stares at them with wide eyes. Behind her, Skylor is highly aware of six ninja going similarly still, all utterly quiet.

“You,” the manager finally squeaks out. “You are’t supposed to — you can’t be in here, not again—”

“On second thought, let’s get a blender next week,” Cole says, quickly.

“Yeah, I can live without smoothies a little longer,” Jay agrees, rapidly paling.

Skylor’s at a loss. “What’s going—”

Before she can finish that sentence, Kai and Nya both have hands on her arm and pull, hauling her along as they break into a dead sprint for the exit.

“Explain later!” Kai yelps, dodging employees as the manager shakes his fist at them, his yelling following them through the doors.

“I filed six restraining orders! Six!” he shrieks as they slip out. “Do you know how long that took?! Two of them don’t even exist in the legal system!”

Skylor doesn’t miss the incredibly unsubtle fist bump Lloyd and Zane share, nor the near-tears sigh of despair from Cole.

She really, really doesn’t want to know.

***********************

Except that maybe she does, so there’s nothing stopping her from asking as they walk home, having bought smoothies from the corner store instead (that they are not banned from, which Skylor is starting to think might be miraculous).

“I don’t know why I’m surprised at this point, but how did you get banned this time?” she asks them, after a particularly long sip of smoothie. “Did you demolish half the store there, too?”

The ninja are silent for a moment, all refusing to meet her eyes. Then—

“It was Jay’s fault,” Cole declares.

Jay whirls on him, his expression wounded. “I trusted you,” he whines. “And you — you bed bath and betrayed me.”

“Because you bed bath and blew up the bedding aisle!”

“It was the kitchen electrics aisle, give me some credit.”

“Oh, because that’s so much better.”

“It is, do you know how hard I’d have to be trying to blow up the bedding aisle? It’s all weighted blankets and like, silk and stuff, no conduction at all—”

Skylor returns to her previous stance on not wanting to know, sips her smoothie in silence as they break into loud arguing in the middle of the street, and hopes once again that no one’s getting any pictures of this.

5. Jamanakai Village Candy Shop

Friday’s her busy day, so Skylor’s spared any chaos other than a jammed mixing machine for the day. It doesn’t come to a head until Saturday, when she cautiously accepts the ninjas' invitation to scout out potential terrorist activity in Jamanakai.

The terrorists turn out to be punk kids who got a little too obsessed with the idea of the Golden Master, which is an unfortunate choice of role model for them, when they have to face up to the ninja. Zane just looks mildly annoyed though, and Lloyd stares into the sun for a full minute before rolling his eyes, so the kids make it out alive.

“We weren’t going to kill them, geez,” Jay says. “Maybe just…lecture them, a bit.”

“Oh yeah, lecture them,” Kai scowls, cracking his knuckles. “The Golden Master, are they kidding?”

“To be fair, they don’t have the same experiences we do,” Cole points out, but he doesn’t look too opposed to the knuckle-cracking, either.

“No harm was done,” Zane says, a bit wearily. “We should simply let it go."

“I dunno, I say we should’ve hung them from a roof for a bit,” Lloyd says, evenly.

The other ninja all cringe in unison, except for Nya, who smothers a coughing sort of laugh. Skylor stares at them, bewildered. “Why would you hang them from a roof?”

“Not sure,” Lloyd says, his lips twitching. “Probably because crime doesn’t pay, muchacho, or something like that—”

“Alright, alright, we get it,” Kai says hastily, clapping a hand over Lloyd’s mouth.

“The guys would know,” Nya smirks, ignoring the looks of utter betrayal she’s getting. “That’s what they did to Lloyd, wasn’t it?”

“Nya, why,” Jay moans into his hands.

“You — hung Lloyd from a roof?” Skylor repeats, thrown for a loop. “Why on earth would you do that? What if he like, fell and died?”

“He was fine,” Cole assures her, hastily.

Lloyd is quick to protest, glaring at them. “No I wasn’t, it was literally scarring! Look, I got this scar from scraping my arm when I fell — oh, wait, oops, that one’s from the Never Realm, it’s this one here.” Lloyd winces as he finishes, suddenly looking contrite as he shoots Zane an apologetic look. “The Never Realm one was from Boreal though, don’t worry.”

Zane looks down, his face shadowed. “It was still my—”

“Nuh-uh,” Jay cuts over him, wagging his finger. “Remember the rule?”

Zane hesitates, looking as if he’d very much like to remember no such thing, but he finally slumps, relenting. “Scars dealt to each other while under the influence of malicious possession by person and/or ancient malevolent artifacts do not count, regardless of extenuating circumstances or deep inner psychological issues that may be brought to light during said influence,” he quotes dully, on a defeated sort of sigh.

Skylor doesn’t know whether to be impressed at that, or depressed that it needed existence in the first place.

“Exactly,” Jay nods. “Which means that any scars from you, Zane, or Lloyd — oh, and Kai, I guess — and Cole, technically, with the Hypnobrai that one time— wow, that’s, hm, that’s a lot of us.”

“If you count the dark matter, we’ve all been possessed,” Zane says, drily.

“Not me!” Kai says, mock-cheerfully.

Jay shakes his head. “Nobody got scars while we were on dark matter! I checked.”

“Why are you saying it like we were on drugs or something?”

“Speak for yourself,” Lloyd scowls. “I’ve still got that stupid ankle one.” He glares at the offending ankle, as if it’s personally disappointed him.

“That was the Overlord, not us,” Nya reminds him. “And uh, your dad, technically.”

Lloyd’s scowl just deepens, his eyebrows tilting downwards hotly. “If I had a dollar for every scar that’s from my dad…”

“I hear you,” Skylor sighs. “Dad scars are the worst. They really know where to hit.”

“Right? It’s always personal with them,” Lloyd shakes his head. “Dads are the worst.”

A beat passes before they both realize the others have fallen quiet. Her and Lloyd blink, and Skylor fights back the urge to cringe at the looks they’re now receiving.

“Well,” Jay says, bleakly. “This is a, um, miserable turn.”

“Hey, hey, no sad faces,” Lloyd scolds, reaching for Kai’s face, which is indeed sporting a pathetically teary-eyed kind of look. “Get that look off your face, off, off—”

“I’m not — stoppit — I’m just— hey, stop it— that’s my face, you brat—”

“Guys, c’mon, cut it out, you’re making a scene,” Cole scolds, pulling them both apart. “How about we stop and get ice cream before we go, okay? To like, cheer us up. Because that was completely depressing, no offense, guys.”

“None taken,” Skylor says, as Lloyd nods in agreement. Cole looks relieved, even if Kai’s still looking a little weepy, and he directs them down another street, heading toward a brightly labeled ice cream shop. Skylor can see tiny rows of candy inside, and there are a bunch of kids gathered around the little stand the owner’s set up at the door. It’s a cute place, all in all — the candy looks good, and it seems pretty cheap.

So it makes zero sense that Lloyd, of all people, would suddenly go painfully tense in the middle of the street, and refuse to take another step forward.

“I can’t go in there,” he whispers.

Skylor’s having that sense of déjà vu again. The rest of the ninja trade confused glances.

“Uh, Lloyd?” Kai says, hesitantly. “They sell candy in there, you know.”

“I know,” Lloyd grinds out, his teeth clenched painfully together. “I’ve been in there before.”

“You have?” Cole frowns. “You — oh.” Realization dawns in his eyes, and he’s suddenly biting his lip, holding back laughter. “Oh, I forgot.”

“Forgot wha—” Jay looks between the two of them, then back at the shop, before something sparks in his eyes as well, and he doubles over in laughter.

“Shut up,” Lloyd hisses.

“Why are we laughing at Lloyd,” Skylor finally sighs, as Kai and Zane break into barely-stifled giggles as well, and Nya rolls her eyes.

“So, um,” Lloyd swallows, shifting anxiously from side to side. “You know how I said they hung me from a roof? There might’ve, uh, been a reason for that.”

“Of course there was,” Skylor says.

“I kind of threatened them, a little bit, and uh, tried to steal half their shop, one time.”

“Of course you did.”

“Lloyd,” Nya sighs. “That was forever ago.”

“I stole from them,” Lloyd bites out. “If I show my face in there again, they’ll kill me."

“I highly doubt they will resort to murder, Lloyd,” Zane says, flatly. “Besides, you did not actually succeed in stealing anything, because we caught you and hung you from a roof. Remember?”

“Yeah, and then I came back with the Serpentine, and made it worse!” Lloyd exclaims. “Just go in without me, I’ll sit out here and cry.”

“We’re not just gonna leave you outside,” Kai rolls his eyes. “C’mon, let’s mend some old wounds. Just go inside and apologize.”

“I would literally rather die.”

“Lloyd, seriously.”

“I’ve done it before, don’t test me.”

“Lloyd.”

“You can’t make me, I’ll fight you—”

“Alright, alright, we’ll find a different shop!”

***********************

“Okay, I have to know,” Skylor finally asks, as they pass the outskirts of the village, heading back to the Bounty. “How many places are you all banned from, in total? Because this is ridiculous. I can’t take you anywhere.”

“I mean, you can’t take us anywhere even without the bans, anyways,” Cole says wearily. “To be fair.”

“We’re not that bad,” Lloyd protests, only to wilt immediately under Skylor’s stare. “There are just…a few places…”

“Zane, how many is it now,” Nya asks, rubbing her temples.

Zane is quiet for a moment, slowly ticking off his fingers as he stares upwards. “Did we ever decide if that one museum counted?”

“The vote was yes,” Jay mutters.

“And the Explorer’s Club, did we decide that one?”

“I’d say that’s a pretty hard ban,” Lloyd winces.

Nya huffs, crossing her arms. “I still say it doesn’t count, because like, everyone’s banned from there, with their stupid stuck-up membership requirements.”

Zane takes this into account, his eyebrows furrowing. “That leaves us with…seventeen places we cannot return to, I believe? Unless I missed one.”

Skylor’s left wordless, gaping at them. She knew there was a lot, but seventeen—?!

“I’m almost a hundred percent sure we’re also banned from the Never Realm,” Kai points out. Zane gives him the iciest look Skylor’s ever seen. Kai simply shrugs. “What? Just stating the facts.”

Lloyd frowns. “I don’t think we are? I mean, Akita wouldn’t—”

“Oh, Akita wouldn’t,” Jay cuts over him, a gleam in his eyes. “Would she, casanova?”

Lloyd goes scarlet, sputtering. “I told you, she kissed me! On the cheek! I just stood there, you can’t—” He buries his face in his hands, and despite her amusement (and rampant curiosity, because this is Lloyd and kissing), Skylor feels bad for him. “I can’t believe I ever told any of you about that,” he whines, sounding tragically upset with himself.

“You were the one having a mental breakdown over it,” Nya reminds him, almost gently. “You need to work on setting boundaries, bud.”

“It’s not like I didn’t tell her I had horrible issues with romance!” Lloyd throws his hands up, frustrated. “Because I did, in painfully honest detail—”

“And yet you refuse to open up to me about it,” Kai says plaintively.

“Turn into a dog for a bit, you might get lucky,” Lloyd grumbles.

Skylor doesn’t want to know. She really, really doesn’t want to know. “Well,” she finally says. “I do know one place you aren’t banned from.”

They all look up at her, and Skylor shakes her head. “You fly me back to the shop in time for dinner, and noodles are on the house tonight.”

Six faces brighten considerably. “Seriously?” Cole says. “Skylor, you’re an angel.”

“Seriously, the best person ever—”

“Our favorite cryptid orange ninja there ever was—”

“Yeah, yeah, keep flattering me,” Skylor sighs, trying not to smile, and failing woefully.

She doesn’t know why she still hangs out with these people, getting banned from everywhere in the city. What a bunch of nerds.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #nya smith #jay walker #cole brookstone #zane julien #skylor chen #i really have no explanation for this at all #except that i wanted to give skylor more love than i've given her #my fic

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something-tofightfor · 4 years ago

Text

Steel City - Christmas in July (Introduction)

No warnings. No pairing. No Summary. No tag list aside from my general. Just an introduction - to set things up.

Word Count: 1592

You hurried through the small crowd of people that was already gathered on PPG plaza, the mirrored buildings that surrounded it reflecting the late-morning sun. Even though it was the Monday following Thanksgiving, the air hadn’t shifted to downright cold yet, and you enjoyed walking from your office to the plaza and back whenever you could for coffee or lunch. Gets me out of the office, that’s for sure.

But rather than stopping even for a few minutes to finish your coffee and watch the ice skaters, you hurried back in the direction of your father’s building. Afternoon tour, only two guys, shouldn’t be difficult… Quickly crossing Stanwix Street, you tossed your empty cup into the trash can and turned right, headed for the main entrance of Four Gateway Center - the skyscraper that housed your father’s business.

Thankfully, you were the only one in the elevator, and you rose to the 17th floor quickly, exiting and reaching into your purse for your keycard - the only thing that would allow you access to the floors above. Swiping it through the reader, you waited for the familiar beep, and then, once that happened, the gentle hum of the elevator descending to your floor. It was again empty, and after pressing the button for the 22nd floor - and your father’s office - you leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes. It’s going to be a long afternoon.

Lauren from HR was off for the week, and since you were waiting for a response from a newly acquired client and had downtime, you’d been roped into giving some of the new hires a tour of the building. I do know it better than anyone, I was the second person in here when we bought it. You’d done tours before, leading people around and explaining how the elevator access worked, guiding them to the cafe, showing them the break room and different departments… but those had all been larger groups of new hires, never only two, like you were expecting that afternoon. You saw your father through the expansive glass windows of his office, and without bothering to knock, you entered, unbuttoning your coat. “Morning, Dad.”

“You’re early.” He smiled at you, looking up over the tops of his glasses. “What - “ Tossing your jacket onto the couch against the far wall, you walked to the windows behind his desk, looking out over Point State Park, and beyond that, the juncture of the Ohio and the Allegheny Rivers.

“So tell me about these two.” You kept your eyes on the water, arms crossed over your chest. “Just so I -”

“One’s security, and the other’s maintenance.” You heard him shifting in his seat. “Figured we could use the extra eyes on the building since we’re getting ready for the holiday party and have all the vendors coming in and out, and you know how it is with maintenance, they can always use the extra help.” Sure can, this place is massive. It still stunned you sometimes that your father’s success had happened seemingly overnight. A little government funding, shaking the right hands, the support of the right circles, and his business had taken off, growing from a small building in Mt. Washington to taking up the top five floors of one of the most recognizable buildings in the city. He deserves it, though. You looked over your shoulder at him, nodding.

“Yeah, the party’s always so busy, and there’s so much that goes into it.” Stepping away from the windows, you sat across from your father, leaning back in your chair. “Are they civilians, or military?” I bet they’re -

“Civilians.” He tilted his head to the side, eyeing you. “Why do you ask?” Taking a breath, you thought carefully about your answer. Because the military employees always treat me like I’m someone important, and ...

“Just curious. I haven’t done one of these tours for a while, and if either of them are -” There was a knock on the door, your father gesturing for whoever it was to come in.

“Mr. Taylor.” His secretary’s voice carried across the room. “They’re here, if you want me to send them in.” He told her to do so, and you stood, making your way back around the desk and taking your place next to your father, who stayed seated. It’s just a tour, get through it, and get back to work. Eyes on the doorway, you waited and after a few seconds, two men appeared.

One was average height and stocky, wearing a dark work shirt and clean black jeans. He was attractive, with deep set eyes and full lips, his close cropped haircut drawing all of the attention to his face, which was clean shaven. The other was tall and lean, long arms covered by a black shirt over black jeans. His hair was longer than the first man’s, one lock of it falling over his eye and covering part of his forehead. The lower half of his face was covered in a beard, and though it was patchy in places, there was good reason. Oh, damn.

Much of it was covered by his facial hair, but the otherwise smooth, pale skin of his face was marred with scars; the jagged lines appearing on both cheeks and his forehead, another on the bridge of his nose. Not letting your eyes linger - you were used to seeing the aftermath of injuries on many of your father’s other employees - you met the second man’s eyes, giving him a genuine smile that grew when you saw them for the first time. Those are the darkest eyes I’ve ever… “Welcome in, gentlemen. Please, take a seat.” Your father spoke, gesturing to the empty chairs in front of you.

“We’ll stand, sir.” The first man replied, his voice deep and gravelly, your eyes moving to him at the sound of it. “If that’s alright with you.” Your father nodded once, not seeming surprised. Sir… but he said… Though you were used to people addressing the man formally, and he’d told you that both men were civilians, you doubted that it was true. Must be a reason he’s not…

“Of course.” Your father stood, pushing his chair back and clearing his throat. “Our HR specialist is actually out this week. I’m told she’s got family in now instead of for Christmas, so instead of her giving you a tour of my facility, you’ll be with my daughter today.” Your eyes moved between the two men, trying to guess who was who. The one with the beard’s obviously seen some shit, but the other one looks stronger… “She can answer any questions that you might have, and she’s got access to parts of the building that others don’t.” I do, I didn’t even think about that. “It’s nice to meet both of you in person. I like to talk to the men and women I hire before they start here.”

Reaching out, your father touched your arm and you stepped backwards, allowing him to pass. You watched the taller man’s eyes as they followed the movement, and by the time you looked to the other man, you saw that he’d turned slightly, angling his body toward your father’s. They’re both standing like… “We appreciate that, sir.” The first man spoke again, clearing his throat. “I’m Frank Castle.” He held his hand out and your father took it, giving it a firm shake.

“We’re glad you’re with us, Mr. Castle.” He pulled his hand away and you watched him turn to the other man, extending his hand again. “And that makes you William Russo.” He didn’t speak at first, and then you watched as the man straightened his shoulders, nodding once.

“That’s me.” He took your father’s hand, and you were surprised at how smooth the movement was, as if he’d had a lot of practice. “You’ve got a great view.” You were surprised; not because of the fact that William Russo was making small talk with your father immediately after meeting him, but at the sound of his voice. It wasn’t what you expected, and it didn’t match with his appearance - at all. I don’t even know…

“That’s why I picked it.” He laughed, pulling his hand away from William’s and motioning for you to step next to him, which you did. “But I’ve got a meeting in about ten minutes, so you three should get going.” He paused and then introduced you by name to the men. “Anything she can’t answer for you… there’s no answer to.” You laughed at that, rolling your eyes.

“Not quite.” You shook Frank’s hand first because he was closer, the man’s fingers closing around yours and squeezing, and then you turned to William, stepping toward him. “But it’s always nice to hear, right?” You caught the faintest flicker of a smile on the man’s face before he took your hand, shaking it with the perfect amount of pressure. “Welcome to Taylor Focus, William.” You glanced over at the other man, meeting his eyes. “You too, Frank.” You caught the slight nod of Frank’s head and the way his eyes darted over to William before moving back to you. Do they know each other? Stepping past all three of them, you picked your jacket up, draping it over your arm. “Alright, you two. Follow me. We’ll head to my office to drop this off, and then I’ll show you around.”

Saying goodbye to your father, you crossed the office hearing the footsteps of both men behind you. This is going to be interesting.

---

Tag lists are always open.

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious@sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix @agentlingerie @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @dreams-with-thoughts @wangmangagavroche @traeumerinwitzhelden @jigsawlover10 @malionnes @addictedtofictionalcharacters @eternitybarnes @beautifuldeasatre @marauderskeeper @lovemarvelousfics @pheedraws @fairywriter-oracle @aroyaldarknessblr @bisexual-space-slut @fific7 @russobill

#steel city #christmas in july #writing #ben barnes character #ben barnes character imagine #i wanna tag who this is so bad #but i can't #not yet

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remmushound · 3 years ago

Text

Lita's legacy, part 5!! @brightlotusmoon @scentedcandlecryptid

Mondo was heated with rage he had no idea how to express. Never before in his time as a human or a mutant had he felt any emotions near as intensely than he felt anger now. His skin felt hot, his stomach felt sick, and he felt like crying. But Lita was there still holding his hand and she was watching him intently, so he had to put on a smile while he got her to someplace safe and protected; as usual, it was on a rooftop.

“Lita, I need you to stay here while I go find a payphone or something.”

Lita frowned. “Why didn't you just use that other mutant's phone?”

Mondo blanked. Sure, he could say that he had been so mad that the thought hadn’t occurred to him, and he could admit his mistake and go back to ask to use an actual phone. Or he could find a payphone and pray to whatever higher beings there were for it to still work. He looked to the streets.

“He uh. Didn't have one. Stay here!”

Mondo gave Lita one last, comforting pat before jumping from the roof and landing with a painful crash in the dumpster below. “Ow.”

“Why didn't you use the ladder?” Lita called down, pointing to the fire escape.

“I have a technique!” Mondo grunted as he forced himself out of the dumpster and to his feet, risking a quick glance around both corners of the alley before falling to all fours and running across the street as fast as his starved body could carry him. He scrambled into the phone box, pulled a loose quarter from his pocket—he kept a bunch of change, just in case he could ever find anything worth buying— and pressed it into the slot. He hoped that was how it worked, like it did in the old movies he watched. He took Repo Mantis’ card from his pocket and, in quick glances between the card and the buttons, he dialed the number and held the phone up to his ear. He heard strange, beeping noises, and hoped that was a good thing.

“You are conversing with Donatello!” Came a confident, bold voice joined with the strange sound of clicking keys, “Are you friend, client, or evil brat come to ruin my day?”

“Suh dude! Uh.” Mondo Gecko cleared his throat and tried to sound professional. “Repo Mantis gave me this number.”

“I know a Repo Mantis.” Was the reply, and then a long pause.

“He… said you could help me?”

“Well, first, you can help me.” Donatello said, “What you need, kid? I got gadgets and gizmos aplenty and a brain that won’t let me sleep. Seriously. It’s been two days.”

Mondo stuttered. “Uh. That’s rough buddy. I… me and my friend tried to get a place in Repo Mantis’ junkyard.”

“Oo. Bad choice.” Donatello laughed, “Lot of crooks living in there, you know. That place is for the desperate and the destitute.”

“Um. I— guess I’m both.”

“Oh. Unfortunate.” He smacked his lips, “What can I do you for, mister desperate and destitute?”

“Repo wouldn’t let me and my friend stay in his junkyard because my friend, like, has this medical condition.”

“That doesn’t sound like Repo. He don’t discriminate by anything more than how much money you have in your pocket. What kind of condition does your friend have?”

“I’m uh… not like, entirely sure what it is, if I’m being completely honest.”

“Physical or mental?”

“Physical…”

“Any medicines she should be taking?”

“I— I don’t know…” Mondo hated not knowing the answers to the questions he was being asked, but what could he do? He had to answer honestly! He put in another quarter to give himself longer to talk.

“Mm. Current place of residence?”

“We… don’t really have one anymore.” Mondo admitted. “I told you— we were supposed to be going to Repo’s place.”

“Right, right. Name?”

“I am Mondo Tubular Gecko.” Mondo gave the sound of a strumming guitar out of habit before remembering what he was talking about. “And uh. My friend’s name is Lita.”

“No last name?”

“No.”

“Alright, Mondo Gecko.” Donatello cleared his throat, “Where are you currently?”

“Uh, lemme check!”

Mondo left the phone and ran out into the streets to check the nearby signs, then ran back and reported them to Donatello.

“Fan-freaking-tasking. You stay there with your friend, and I’ll be there in just a mo’ with a medic to give her a once-over and give the all-clear to our mantis friend. Don’t move.”

Mondo froze.

There was a pause before. “You can move away from the payphone, just don’t leave the area!”

“Oh, right on, right on. Wait. How’d you know I was on a payphone…?”

“I know and see everything. Tah tah!”

Mondo returned to the rooftop to wait with Lita. Only a few short minutes later, both of them were surrounded by three average-sized mutants and one giant, their muscles chiseled and defined by years of hard labor and faces that said they were in their early twenties, if that. Mondo Gecko tucked his tail between his legs and hugged it for support. He hadn’t been expecting so many to show up, but he couldn’t back out now.

“You the one who called?” Asked an unfamiliar voice from the brightest mutant in a blue bandana.

Mondo Gecko nodded slowly.

“Where uh. Where’s your friend?” The largest one gave what Mondo Gecko supposed was meant to be a comforting grin, but it came off as predatory and malicious.

“She’s right here. It’s okay Lita…” Mondo Gecko grabbed Lita by the arm and gently guided her out into the open.

“Aww.” The orange-spotted mutant cooed, “You’re so cute!”

Lita whined and pressed her carapace into the crook of Mondo Gecko’s arm for security. A purple-clad mutant split from the group and approached Lita, pulling goggles down over his eyes and scanning her with a red and blue light for a moment before he pulled the goggles up and his mouth fell open.

“Woah…” Just from the tone, Mondo immediately knew it was the one from the phone. He stood up, walking over to the blue-clad turtle and whispering something to him. Mondo strained to listen. “...major ectopia cordis, possible thoracic insufficiency. Pericardium is still intact. Also suffering from oculocutaneous albinism OCA1 and what appears to be second-degree burn scarring on her face and hands. Accompanied with her ectopia, it may allude to significant lung tissue damage.”

Lita looked down at the pink burns on her hands, and then back up as the purple and blue adorned turtles made their way over to her and Mondo with attempts at gentle, comforting smiles.

“Hey Lita…” The blue-dressed turtle kneeled and offered a hand to the albino turtle. “I’m Leonardo. Do you mind is I take a look at you…?”

Lita looked at Leonardo’s three fingered hands, then held out her own matching hands and looked down at them with a curious glint in her eyes. The new turtle was still smiling, his hand still outstretched. Lita accepted it and let herself be guided away from Mondo.

“I’m just gonna take a look at your heart and lungs, okay?” Leonardo asked, and when Lita nodded her consent, he took out a flashlight and shined it in the center of Lita’s chest, watching the beat of her heart with a soft curiosity. “Wow… okay, this might feel a little cold, but it’s going to help me hear your lungs, okay?”

Leonardo pulled out a device that Lita didn't recognize, letting her look it over for only a few seconds before bringing it to her chest to listen to her breathing. He kept the cold tool there for a moment before pulling away and walking back over to whisper to Donatello, who took quick notes of his brother's words. While they talked, Lita’s eyes couldn’t help but explore the sight of the other two mutant turtles that stood nearby. They were shoulder-to-shoulder with each other, staring at Lita and whispering softly in serious, curious voices. Lita felt unbelievably small compared to them.

“Lita.” Leonardo’s voice came again, “My brother here is going to take some measurements of his shell to see if he can’t get you fitted with something.”

Donatello stepped forward, standing unlike his kneeling brother, and addressed Lita like an equal. He pointed to the straps over his shoulder, “See this?” He turned around to show her his battle shell before turning back around to face her, “This is my battleshell— aka, my livelihood! Since there are no surgical options to help you with current technology, I am going to make you something just like this, except on your plastron instead of your carapace. It will cover your heart, so you aren’t just… hanging out there and give you additional protection against brunt force trauma.”

As Donatello continued to rant, he finally kneeled, but not to address her face to face; he started to measure the area of her plastron with careful, calculated measurements while metal arms coming from his battle shell scribbled down the notes he needed.

“I can design it to grow with you, but you will have to come back every two years to get a replacement fitting, so it doesn’t get too worn down and become structurally unsound.” He finished his measurements and stood back up, “We can arrange a meeting in two months to get you suited with your brand-new plastron. How’s that sound?”

“Good.” Lita squeaked softly.

“Do you guys have anywhere to go until then?” The biggest brother asked in the softest voice.

Mondo came back over and wrapped a thin, lanky arm around Lita and gave her a comforting squeeze. “Um… we can go back to the vent I guess.”

All four turtles immediately shook their head and voiced their disagreement.

“No.” The red brother insisted, “No— we ain’t letting you leave here until you have a safe, comfortable place to stay! Like our place!”

“Yeah!” The orange-spotted turtle chirped, “You guys can have my room!”

“And it would be better able to keep an eye on her condition.” Leonardo added, walking up behind the two of them and wrapping supportive arms around the two children. “Trust me, niño y niña! You’ll love it at our place!”

“Think dad’ll let them stay?” The orange turtle chirped.

“You kidding? Dad would never turn away a couple’a kids!” Leonardo declared, “You can stay with us until we get you decked out someplace nice! How’s that sound?”

Lita smiled softly. “It sounds amazing!”

~~~

Two hundred years passed since that day, but Lita remembered it so clearly. She was sure she would be able to find her way around the past city even without the aid of Donatello’s maps, but still he insisted on her having one. She didn't think it was important enough to argue— it was only a day trip. Just get the egg and get out. She didn't know why her friends were all acting so weird about it though; she had gone on tons of missions into the past with the time scepter, and this one would be no different.

When she arrived in the city, the first thing she did was take a long, deep breath of the clean city air. Clean, at least, compared to what she had grown used to. She couldn’t spend long enjoying it, though. Tokka needed to be brought back home. Though she was reluctant to admit it, Donatello’s map had indeed helped her just as he said it would. Squeezing herself into the sewer was harder than she would care to admit, but she made it work. Then she had to swim, which was of little concern seeing as she was built to be aquatic.

She emerged in a place that sparked an odd memory and made her heart give a strong pang. She knew this place— and she knew those two creatures staring back at her as they held her little Tokka.

“Holy shell…”

#this connects to ‘Are you my dad’#thanks 4 reading!

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pascalls · 4 years ago

Text

It’s a Gunderful Life

With nowhere to go on Christmas Eve, Charlie’s depressive episode is interrupted by none other than Gil Gunderson.

---------------------------------

Her text had ruined everything.

For once, Charlie had been prepared to spend a holiday with his son. He’d gone the extra mile - figured out a small motel where they advertised fun little Christmas trees in the rooms, had enough money to order a pizza, and even had a small present for the boy that was haphazardly wrapped and ready to be given.

But before he could even make the phone call to ask whether or not Connor was ready to be picked up, Connor’s mother had texted him instead.

[ Our son is spending Christmas with his grandparents. You can see him for New Years. ]

Charlie didn’t have the wherewithal to respond. The reservation for the motel was canceled, the money for the pizza was spent on a gross Stroopwafel Liqueur, and the present was dropped in the mail box for Connor to receive later. On top of his killed buzz, the chilly air was swirling about in such a way that it was generating a few wayward snowflakes. Even through the thick sweater he was wearing, the frost bit at him; as if the weather itself was really hammering the point home.

As Charlie walked down the street, the bitterness radiating from him was palpable. In fact, it was likely the only thing that was keeping him warm as his ears consistently flicked away the falling snow before it could settle on his scales for too long. The holiday meant that the Lovejoys had company, Sam was away on an urgent delivery run upstate, and sleeping on the cold tile floor underneath one of the tables at Moe’s was too depressing of an option. The bar was likely filled with other loners, just as put out as Charlie was. And he didn’t need that kind of energy pulling him even deeper into his lonely depression.

A sneeze made his ribs ache and he snuffled in agitation as he scooted himself into the dim glow of the nearest street light. He’d long since abandoned his disguise in favor of roaming the street like some kind of raccoon, looking for… Something. Anything. He didn’t quite know what. He’d finished off his booze - which had done very little to get him drunk - and with no cash in his pocket, that meant no food, no more drinks, and no… place to stay.

On a good day, Charlie battled loneliness and depression. This was certainly not a good day. It was smothering him. And after a brief moment of realizing that the light was at least providing the tiniest bit of warmth, Charlie sat right there on the curb, tail curled around him as he exhaled tiredly into the frosty air. What a shit Christmas.

He nearly leapt to his feet when a sudden harsh metal scraping interrupted his quiet revelry. His scales bristled like a spooked cat, but confusion overcame his desire to bolt as he spotted a familiar face that followed.

“...Hello Gil,” Charlie said, his tone exceptionally dry. God couldn’t have dropped literally anyone else into his lap on Christmas fucking Eve?

“Uh-hEY, it’s Mr. Walker and d-” Gil began to respond, his hands gripping the metal rim of the dented garbage can he seemed to be dragging down the street. “-aAH! What HAPPENED to ya?” He exclaimed when he turned to glance properly at Charlie who could only respond with a dull look in return.

A more intelligent part of the hybrid was telling himself that being caught out of his disguise might as well have been a straight shot right back to Burns. The more realistic - and depressed - part of himself was saying…

Nobody would believe Gil Gunderson anyway.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s a whole thing, it’s fine,” Charlie reassured him, scaly hands up in a placating gesture. “Tell me why you’re waking up the sewer rats by dragging that thing across the pavement.” He was quick to change the subject, and despite Gil’s momentary apprehension, the man seemed to divert just as easily.

“OH, well, yanno, it’s pretty cold out and I figured if I got this in between some of those apartment buildin’s over there, I could set some garbage on fire and get the ol’ hands nice and toasty! But uh… Well, I used the last of my matches to try and pop some popcorn kernels I found in my pocket earlier and ah… well, yeah that’s kinda just how it goes some days, I guess.”

“Riveting.” Charlie had little to offer the ramblings of the ever-depressing Gil, but he had to admit… a fire sounded nice right about then. He didn’t know how sure he was that he wouldn’t freeze to death if left to his own devices overnight. A fire would at least make sure he’d live to see another day. “...I might be able to help with that, actually.”

“Really?” Gil asked, his tone hopeful as Charlie came around to the other side of the can and lifted from the bottom. He didn’t want to summon up any more attention from any other passersby with the horrible screech of metal against concrete.

“Tell me where you want it and we can see if we can get it lit somehow.”

“Oh BOY, you’ve got a real nice heart there, Mr. Walker! I tell ya what, let’s go put it right between the Sears and the Radioshack!”

Charlie squinted from behind the can. “Gunderson, neither of those fucking places have existed for at least two years. Pretty sure it’s a Target and a Subway now.”

“Aw, you’re right.”

Sighing, Charlie hoisted the can up and in the direction of the two buildings, crossing a parking lot and avoiding bonking into a few cars along the way before setting it down in the darker shadows of the alley between them. It was sufficiently out of the way of any prying eyes and didn’t reek of piss and old sandwich meat, at the very least.

“Alright… uh… next step is… shit to burn,” Charlie mused, adjusting his glasses and glancing around.

“I’ve got some receipts in my pockets…” Gil proposed, reaching into his shoddy jacket and pulling out a huge clump of wadded up paper. He began to pull them apart one by one, dropping them into the can, but not before glancing at each one in turn and announcing loudly where they were from. “This one was from that slice of pizza I got the other day! Oh, but then I dropped it into the sewer grate… And THIS one is from those shoes I bought- ah, but then that dog ran off with ‘em…”

Rolling his eyes, Charlie ignored Gil’s babbles as he drifted over to a nearby dumpster, clawing his way up the side of it and peering in.

“Ah-hah,” he proclaimed, hopping in and beginning to toss out bits of plywood and newspapers. A few food wrappers made their way out of the dumpster and to the ground. A few minutes of digging yielded a large enough pile of garbage for Charlie to clamber back out, landing deftly on his feet. Glancing over at Gil, he breathed out a sigh when he realized the other man was still going through his receipts.

“GIL.”

“And this one was - Huh? What?”

“This stuff will burn a lot faster than a pocketful of receipts. C’mon now. Use your brain. Come get this shit and throw it in.”

Gil blinked before dumping the rest of the receipts into the can and quickly made his way over to start hoisting up the trash that Charlie had amassed, carrying it over and dumping it in as their makeshift kindling.

“Y’know, I could use this for-” Gil began, only to be interrupted by Charlie who smacked some of the plywood out of his hands and into their fire.

“No. Put all of it in.”

Gil didn’t argue, a little too intimidated by Charlie’s command to do so, and he obediently finished his task. The can was eventually full - full enough to keep a fire fed for a few hours, at least. By then, hopefully, the sun would be back up and it wouldn’t be such a chore to stay warm.

“Alright. Now… to burn. Hm. You got a phone on you?”

Reaching into his other pocket, Gil produced an old flip phone, clearly not up to modern standards. But Charlie didn’t really mind, reaching out to snag it from him and give it a once over.

“It ain’t the most high tech thing, but it lets me keep in touch with the kids when they-”

Before even bothering to let him finish, Charlie unceremoniously wrenched the battery out of the device, practically snapping the thing in half to do so. “I’ll get you a new one,” he lied, not looking at Gil as he began to fiddle with the battery casing with his claws.

“Wh- Oh. Well if it helps…” Gil replied, downtrodden, but not entirely beaten up about it. He leaned over to watch Charlie work, backing up only when the battery began to smoke and spark.

“Head’s up!” The hybrid exclaimed, tossing the battery in the can as it began to simmer and leak fluid. What he didn’t anticipate was the fluid, having left a streak along the ground as it hurtled into the can, ignited, sending flames rocketing towards their impromptu fire pit. A sudden wave of panic at the realization - BATTERIES EXPLODE - sent Charlie leaping at Gil to knock him down and away from the can as the sound of the battery bursting into shrapnel rattled their little alley. Smoke and flames burst from the pile of garbage, singeing the can and some of the brick wall next to it before it settled, leaving them laying in the aftermath of floaty, acrid smoke.

Charlie glanced back at the can which was, at least, alight now. And the preceding explosion had ensured that the entire area was… warm and smoky.

“WOW, that’s ONE WAY to light a fire!” Gil exclaimed from the ground, not bothering to get up just yet. Particularly due to Charlie still being squarely on top of him. The hybrid noticed after a few seconds, glancing down at Gil before scrambling away in embarrassment and dusting himself off as he got to his feet.

“Yeah… well… I’m… experienced.” Charlie bragged, despite the slight humiliation at possibly being caught in such a position with Gil of all people. But he couldn’t say that he hated having his ego pat. Even just a little. He busied himself with cleaning off his glasses as Gil pushed himself up to his feet in turn, making his way over to the can and placing his hands over the flames which had settled and now burned steadily.

“I gotta say, I was a little worried we wouldn’t have somethin’ to keep us warm tonight, but ya really came through!” Gil rubbed his hands together eagerly, offering Charlie a little smile, to which the hybrid had no response besides an awkward clearing of his throat as he drifted over to join the other man. His scales appreciated the warmth as he placed them over the fire, glancing over at Gil as the flames crackled quietly.

“...Why’re you out here by yourself anyway?” Charlie eventually asked, curiosity defeating his desire to not be rambled at again.

Gil shrugged sadly, but he maintained his smile. “Yanno how landlords are durin’ the holidays, they want their rent when they want it and when ya don’t got it, well, ya end up out on the street and all your stuff stays behind and they tell ya they wanna pawn it off…” He trailed off.

Frowning, the hybrid didn’t respond right away. He wasn’t entirely sure what was worse. Not having a place to go to begin with or being booted out of your place. Hm. He decided that he wasn’t interested in playing the pain olympics with a man who probably didn’t need it any more than he himself did.

“That’s rough, buddy,” he said after a moment.

“Did you get thrown out too?” Gil asked. “Ya seem like a guy who’s a lot more put together than I am, anyway!”

“Eh…” Charlie replied, noncommittally. He didn’t want to get into it. Especially not with Gil. “Just wasn’t interested in doing the whole… holiday thing.” He lied again, though a slight pang of guilt settled into the back of his mind, forcing him to pull his hands back to himself and drift away from the can to lean against a nearby wall. Sliding down, he eventually settled on the ground. Close enough to the fire to keep him warm, but not so close that he was forced to stare Gil Gunderson in the face and explain the depths of his depression.

The other man watched as Charlie drew away and, much to the hybrid’s dismay, joined him to sit against the wall. Gil seemed pleased just to have some kind of company. Charlie would have preferred it to be....

Maybe literally anyone else.

“It can get pretty tough around Christmas time when ya ain’t got anyone to spend the holiday with. I know how that can be,” Gil began. Charlie didn’t look up at him. He didn’t need to be told that. “But it ain’t all bad,” the man continued, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small paper bag.

What the hell else did this man have in his pockets? Charlie wondered. But he didn’t ask. Just squinted as Gil reached into the bag and produced two rectangular snack bars.

“It’s not much, but I managed to snag these cereal bars from my pantry before security threw me out. Ya want one?” Gil offered one of the bars to Charlie who stared, nonplussed at the offer. Something about it was-

-stabbing him directly in the chest somehow, and he wasn’t sure why.

“...Sure,” he replied eventually, reaching out to take one of the bars and turn it around in his hands. Lucky Charms. Cute. He peeled the wrapper off the bar and began to silently munch, still pointedly not looking at Gil. Embarrassed to be accepting the help. Thrown by not being able to stew in his depression with someone watching. Guilted by the realization that he’d shattered the man’s phone and now would certainly need to get him a new one.

The silence between them was interrupted by the faint beeping of Gil’s watch. Charlie’s ears twitched as he glanced over, continuing to savor his sad little snack meal.

“Guess that makes it Christmas now, huh? It’s midnight,” Gil said with a glance at the watch that continued to beep for a few more moments before going silent again.

“...Guess it does.” Charlie glanced up as the snowflakes continued to drift down around them. Not quite making it all the way to the ground before they melted into droplets of water or evaporating in the heat of their bonfire. He considered, for a moment, reaching for his phone to text Connor. Or Tim. Or Sam. Or - anyone. Maybe shoot his shot and see if anyone would respond to a sad lizard’s good tidings.

But he did none of those things.

Instead, he reached into his pocket to produce the only real thing he had on his person. His empty wallet. It had no money, no cards in it. Not even any sorts of identification. It was an older leather wallet that had seen better days. But it wasn’t the worst looking thing.

“Merry Christmas, Gil,” Charlie said as he offered up the wallet to the other man. “It’s not much. But you might be able to use it eventually.”

“Wha? Really? Ya mean it?” Gil responded, reaching out to take the wallet with enthusiasm. “You BET I’ll be able to use it! I’ll be able to hold all of my credit cards and maybe I can get them all paid off finally!”

The hybrid snorted in amusement. Stupid.

In a sudden and unexpected display of gratitude, Gil leaned over and wrapped arms around Charlie’s shoulders in a tight embrace. Charlie bristled, not anticipating the blatant affection, almost pulling away as a result. But Gil didn’t seem too eager to let go.

“You’ve made this the best Christmas I’ve had in a LONG time!” The man exclaimed, much to Charlie’s embarrassment. But… he had to admit…

It felt nice to be appreciated.

So he didn’t fuss, despite his desire to do so. Instead, he reached up and gave Gil a little pat on the head.

“You’re uh… you’re welcome.”

Charlie let Gil cling for a little longer, occupying himself by staring at the fire they’d constructed together. At least they were warm. They’d eaten something. And they weren’t alone. The hybrid wasn’t about to categorize it as any type of ‘good’, as far as holidays went, but…

Maybe it wasn’t the worst.

#tj writes #oc #simpsona #gil gunderson #BECAUSE CHARLIE x GIL IS A VALID SHIP NOW I GUESS

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breanime · 5 years ago

Note

Person A can’t sleep so Person B sings them a lullaby for billy russo?

YOU KNOW I HAD TO MAKE THIS FAMILY!RUSSO! I JUST HAD TO!

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” You asked, concern clear in your voice.

Billy nodded, even though he knew you couldn’t see him. “Yeah, yeah, we’re all fine here,” he said, wincing as Luca gnawed at his ankle, “It’s almost bedtime, so the kids are getting ready to go to sleep.” Your daughter, Emmy, was crawling around on the kitchen floor, chasing Curtis’ cat that Billy was cat-sitting. “They’re really tired, we had a full day.”

“I miss you,” you sighed on the other end of the phone, “I miss the kids.”

“I know,” Billy sighed back, “but you’ll be back tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “my flight lands at 10—a.m,” you reminded him.

“We’ll be there,” he said, trying not to get too excited at the thought of seeing you again. You’d only been gone for three days; your job had requested you go to a conference (you were the best, after all), and so Billy had been left behind with the kids. He didn’t mind; he never understood fathers who referred to watching their kids as “babysitting”. You babysat someone else’s kids, you raise yours. So Billy had taken the last few days off of work to stay at home with your 4 year old son Luca, and your 3 year old daughter Emmy.

“Is that Mommy?” Luca cried out, pulling back from Billy’s legs to look up at him with those dark, wide eyes. “Hi Mommy!”

“Mama!” Emmy added. “Mama! Mama!”

“Hi babies!” You said, and Billy could hear the tears in your voice. “Mama misses you!”

“Mommy’s coming back tomorrow,” Billy said, both for the kids’ sake and yours. He grinned, a lightbulb going off in his head. “We need to get ready for bed because when we wake up, we’re going to the airport to get Mommy!”

The kids cheered.

“C’mon, Sissy,” Luca said, stumbling to his feet and taking Emmy’s hand in his, “We gots to get in our pajam-jams!”

“Mama coming home?” Emmy asked, toddling after her brother.

You laughed on the other end of the phone, and Billy smiled. He missed your laugh. He missed you. Man—having kids turned him soft. “Sounds like it’s time for you to go, Daddy,” you said, and Billy felt a shiver go through him at your words, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“We’re dropping the kids off at Frank’s,” Billy growled back, “and then I’m spending the rest of the day inside you.”

You sighed dreamily, and Billy wished you were there so he could kiss you. “Don’t tease me, Mr. Russo.”

“Not a tease,” he said back, “but a promise, Mrs. Russo.”

The two of you spoke for a few minutes longer—you convinced Billy to drop the kids off at Frank’s for a few hours tomorrow, and then go pick them up (you missed your mini Russos), and Billy was easily convinced. After he hung up, he walked into the kids’ room to see Luca tucking his sister in.

“And tomorrow, when the sun is up again,” Luca was saying as he patted the blanket down on his sister’s tummy, “We’re gonna go to the air sport to get Mommy, and we can see the airplanes!”

“I want Mommy now!” Emmy said back, pouting. Billy smiled; she looked just like you when she did that.

“You have to go night-night,” Luca explained, “and then we can get Mommy.” He got his patience from you, Billy knew. “Right, Daddy?”

Billy blinked. Luca knowing that Billy was behind him without turning around was definitely a Russo trait. “Right.” He stepped into the room, scooping Luca up in his arms and placing him in his little bed. “So it’s time for us to say goodnight…”

“I’m too egg-cited to sleep!” Luca said, kicking his little legs under the covers. “I can’t wait to see Mommy!”

“I want Mommy!” Emmy added, kicking her feet too.

Billy sighed. He should have known; bedtime had been relatively easy the last two days, of course that had just been the calm before the storm. Before he knew it, he had two baby Russos screeching “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy” with no intentions of going to sleep.

Dire measures needed to be taken.

“How about we all sleep in Daddy’s bed,” he offered, speaking loudly so he could be heard over his children’s voices, “And I’ll read you a story…”

He watched his kids’ eyes light up, and they both scurried out of their beds and rushed to your room, Billy trailing behind them, shaking his head with a smile on his face. They climbed the little Cars step stool that was next to the bed and hopped under the covers, staring over at Billy with matching grins on their sweet little faces. Billy settled himself between the two of them and grabbed a children’s book from the side of the bed. Luca was fascinated by the words, tracing them with his little finger as Billy read, and Emmy loved the pictures, making sure Billy held the book up so they could all see. Billy could tell they were both getting sleepy as he read on, but neither of them would relent and let themselves go to sleep. Both of them had their heads leaning on Billy, and Emmy was sucking her thumb—a habit she only went back to when she was sleepy.

“Daddy,” Luca said, his voice soft and slurred with sleepiness, “will you sing us a song?”

Billy paused. Sometimes you sang Disney songs with the kids, and you used to sing Emmy lullabies to get her to sleep when she was an infant, but Billy never did. He was just an appreciative audience member. And besides, he was a Marine. He was a sniper. He was a CEO.

Billy Russo didn’t sing.

Except now his babies were looking up at him, two pairs of big, black eyes that knew nothing but love staring up at him.

So he sang them a song.

Emmy was out before he’d even finished verse 2, but Luca stayed up until the song was done. Finally, he laid his little head down and closed his eyes. But before he did, he smiled and said the words that made everything worth it:

“I love you, Daddy.”

The next morning, Billy parked the car and waited for you. He didn’t have to watch for your arrival; the kids’ excited screams let him know when you were nearing the car. Billy hugged you to him, grinning from ear to ear as you greeted the kids, kissing them and telling them how much you’d missed them.

“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy,” Luca reported, his legs kicking in his car seat, “Daddy sanged us a song!”

Billy coughed, avoiding your gaze as he put your suitcase in the trunk. “That was supposed to stay between us, son…” He muttered.

“He did?” You asked, eyes wide as you slid your seatbelt on. “I want to hear Daddy sing!”

“Oh, no,” Billy shook his head, “That ain’t gonna happen.”

“Daddy sing!” Luca ordered.

“Sing, Daddy, sing!” Emmy chorused.

“Yeah, sing!” You added, clapping your hands.

Billy sighed, rolling his eyes as he put the car in gear. The things he did for the ones he loved….

“The wheels on the bus go round and round…”

*******************************************************************************************

GAWD I love the Russos. Also, I still haven’t settled on a name for Baby Boy Russo, the new baby... Suggestions? Thanks for reading!

Everything Taglist: @encounterthepast @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @charlylama @realduckvader @teacuplotus @whovianayesha @lexxierave @loveintheroyalfamily @fanfictionrecommendations-com @maxslime-blog @songforhema @lucielandss @themadhatter92 @christinawxxx @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @luminex3 @ashkuuuu @luckysstrikes @carlaangel86 @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso @iaintnofurry @ymariejp @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli @stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @leahnicole1219 @evanlys19 @binbons-is-theloml @aikeia @bitch-imma-head-out @witchygagirl

Benny B Taglist: @suchatinyinfinity @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @starkrobb @elanor-of-imladris @thesumofmychoices @marauderskeeper @honeyydippaa @thebabblingbookworm @khuangpu13 @ladyblablabla @woodlandreads @ms-delos @belladonnarey @thesandbeneathmytoes @georgiagrl1990 @kahlanmars @the-blind-assassin-12

Benny B Taglist (minus Sirius): @banditthewriter @something-tofightfor

#billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo #breanime's drabble event part two

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hamiltalian-creates · 5 years ago

Text

Brothers Will Be Brothers

Summary: Virgil needs help dyeing his hair. What better excuse was there to actually spend time with his brother, Dee, for once? It was the perfect chance to talk and catch up and maybe even embarrass each other by bringing up each other's love lives, as brothers do.

Pairings: Brotherly Anxceit, hinted Prinxiety, queerplatonic Dukeceit

Words: 1,798

Warnings: None

Dee smiled as he watched Virgil from past the bathroom door. His younger brother was in the middle of his emo phase and, as such, had decided to dye his hair. Of course, Dee hadn’t even thought about denying him such a simple pleasure. He was doing a little more than making ends meet for the two of them, so it wasn’t like there was a money problem, plus it was nice to see Virgil at home for once. Those days, he practically lived with those new friends that he’d made at school, even if Dee himself had never really met them. In fact, to his knowledge, they’d only ever been over once, to find Virgil after he’d suddenly taken a few mental health days. Even then, Dee was at work, at the law firm where he’d managed to snag a receptionist job.

Dee sighed and walked away, getting back to what he’d been doing. He missed spending time with his brother, but ever since their parents passed, it was tough. Money may not have been an issue, but only because Dee was pretty much forced into working overtime most weeks. He hardly had the time to spare for his brother, outside of the promised homework help and the occasional movie night. Honestly, Dee couldn’t blame Virgil for being gone so often, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss him.

Back in the bathroom, Virgil was about to start applying the hair dye, but something was just holding him back. What if he missed a spot? He was supposed to be the tough one, what kind of tough kid had poorly dyed hair? And what if he started and noticed missed spots near the end? He didn’t want to leave the dye in too long in a desperate attempt to fix it and accidentally kill his hair altogether. He groaned and took off the plastic gloves then grabbed his phone, stopping himself before he could text anyone. Who could he message?

Logan? No, he would probably end up listing all of the ways it was bad for Virgil’s hair to fill in the inevitable silence between them, as if he hadn’t been thinking about it since he made the decision.

Roman? No. If there was anyone he didn’t trust to not prank him with a bad dye job, it was Roman. Was it unfair? Yeah, but anxiety was funny like that.

And then there was Patton. Virgil loved him, the two really were best friends, but Virgil was tired of being seen as the baby of the group and having Patton help him with something like that surely wouldn’t help.

So that only left Dee.

Virgil would be lying if he said his heart didn’t warm up at least a bit at the idea. It had been a long time since he really spent any quality time with his brother. Virgil didn’t mean for the two of them to grow apart during these past few years, but it was so hard for him to stay at home alone while Dee worked and not think about what would happen to him if Dee were to get hurt or how much more time Dee could be at home if Virgil could get a job himself, even if he didn’t have much free time after homework himself. It was easier to just hang out with his friends and try to forget about them.

But he could never forget his brother. Virgil sighed and just hoped that Dee didn’t hate him for it. He grabbed the bowl of dye and the gloves and went out in to the living room, pausing as he saw his older brother reading on the couch. Of course he’d just be reading, this was one of the few hours he actually got to himself. No homework, no job, just Dee. Virgil shouldn’t intrude on that.

He began to leave, stopping as he heard his voice from behind him.

“Virgil? What are you doing out here, I thought you were dyeing your hair.”

Virgil let out a breath that he’d trapped in his throat and turned back around. There was no reason to be afraid, this was just his brother. “Nothing, it’s stupid. I just didn’t want to mess up my hair, so I was going to ask you, but you’re busy, just forget about-”

“I’m never too busy for my brother.” Dee smiled and put his book down. “Come on, Virgil, you may be all grown up, but you’re still my little brother. You can ask for help.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and went over, putting the dye and the gloves on the table. “Whatever, just don’t blackmail me or whatever when you want something done. Don’t forget that you’re the one who asked. I’m getting the box for the instructions.”

“Of course,” Dee hummed, smiling as he watched his brother leave. Virgil really was growing up, but Dee still found his childish mannerisms almost adorable. It’s like he said, Virgil would always be his little brother.

Said brother came back and chucked the box in Dee’s direction before sitting on the floor between his legs, his own legs stretched out in front of him. “Just don’t mess it up..”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He put on the plastic gloves and began brushing the dye into his hair. “So, how are those friends of yours? You haven’t talked to them in a while.”

Which was another reason that Virgil didn’t want them to help. “They haven’t seen my hair since I bleached it.. I already barely get away with wearing my hood up in school, I don’t want them to see how stupid it looks.” He still had to resist the urge to brush that blond hair into his face.

Dee smiled a bit. “You think so? I think it looks good on us both.” Of course, Virgil had a lot of anxiety around getting it bleached at all, so Dee volunteered to get it done with him and he was actually enjoying the color. He thought it was fitting on himself and Virgil.

Virgil shrugged, unconsciously tilting his head as he felt Dee move away from the center of his hair. “Roman said that his brother had bleached his hair before dying it green and that it looked stupid because his eyebrows didn’t match.”

“Roman?” That name was all too familiar by then. “Have you asked him out yet?”

Virgil would’ve whipped around, had his hair not been in Dee’s hands. “Ask him out?! Are you insane?! I mean, what would even make you think I like him?!”

Dee bit back a laugh. “Well, you talk about him more than Patton or Logan and here you are, worrying about his opinion.”

Virgil scoffed dramatically. “I’m not worried about what that moron thinks, I just don’t want to look stupid trying to get my hair this color. I only talk about him because of all of the stupid things that he says.”

“Oh, of course, that makes perfect sense,” Dee hummed, a teasing edge in his voice.

“Whatever.” Virgil crossed his arms over his chest. “What about that weirdo that you met at the mall? Has he officially asked you out yet?”

Now, it was Dee’s turn to get flustered, though it showed much more on his face than in the way his hands moved. He’d met Remus when he was browsing the mall’s Hot Topic in search of a birthday gift for Virgil. The dumpster fire of a man approached and immediately started asking about the scar that had covered half his face, which Dee was more than happy to talk about. Better to talk than to receive silent stares, he’d figured. The two became fast friends, but they’d never really get past that, seeing as Remus was aromantic. But Dee wasn’t sure how to explain that without explaining the late nights spent at Remus’s apartment or the way the two would cuddle on the couch when Virgil found them the morning after spending the night with his friends. He was sure there was a way to describe it, but it wasn’t one he knew about.

“No and I don’t think it’s coming anytime soon,” he said instead, making it clear in his voice that that wasn’t a problem. He didn’t see Remus in a romantic light, either.

“You guys act more like a couple than Roman and I ever do.” Virgil hesitated before asking his next question. “It’s not one of those ‘you don’t have time for a boyfriend’ things, is it?”

“No, Virgil, no matter how many times you ask, you have drained absolutely no joy from my life,” Dee said, matter-of-factly. To an outsider, it may have sounded like a lie, but only because it was something Dee was repeating for at least the fiftieth time. He knew Virgil’s anxiety mixed poorly with Dee having to skip college and get a job to take care of him, but no matter how many times he’d ask, it was true. Dee was happier than what he assumed Virgil’s anxiety let him believe and he’d gladly choose the same thing a thousand times over, if it meant that his little brother got the closest thing he could to normal teen years.

“Alright, thanks for the attitude, I just thought I should ask,” Virgil responded, the slightest bit of relief in his voice.

The two continued their small talk as Dee brushed the dye into his brother’s hair and even once it was in, only stopping when Virgil’s timer went off.

“I’m going to rinse this out.. Do you want to go hang out later? You can even invite that goblin you call a friend, if you want.”

“I’d love to, but I don’t need Remus to want to hang out with you.”

Virgil sighed. “Oh my god, I clearly meant that I want to meet him. You spend a lot of time with him, he clearly makes you happy and I want to see why for myself. Plus I might talk him into being your boyfriend.”

Well... The direct approach was one way for Virgil to find out why they weren’t dating. “Alright, I’ll call him, but only if you invite Roman.”

“What for?!” Virgil groaned.

Dee shrugged and took off the gloves. “Same reason. If I’m wrong about him liking you, I’ll back off, but a big brother can’t stop being a big brother.”

Virgil tutted and waved Dee off as he began cleaning up the area. “I’ll get that once I finish rinsing. And, whatever, I’ll invite him. Just don’t be embarrassing.” He quickly walked out of the room and Dee grinned to himself. This was going to be an interesting afternoon. Brothers embarrassing brothers. Just like how it was meant to be.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #ts anxiety #ts deceit #ts virgil #fluff #brotherly anxceit #platonic anxceit

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years ago

Text

Mime Your Manners || Frank and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Perfect Pint PARTIES: @frankmulloy and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kaden runs into Frank on a smoke break and they have a mime of a time.

There were less and less evenings that Kaden was out late enough at a bar, but he couldn’t miss the Lyon matches when he could catch them. And the only place to watch those was The Perfect Pint. That said, half time was as good a time as any to catch a quick hit of nicotine. Outside. The authenticity of the pub apparently only went so far. Kaden slipped into the alley way and pulled out his lighter, flipped it open, and… Nothing. He tried again. “Putain de merde,” he grumbled to himself, still struggling to try and make the fucking lighter work. He sighed, clean breath puffing out around the unlit cigarette pressed between his lips. Looked like he was shit out of luck. Out of the corner of his eye, Kaden spotted someone else in the alley, a tall man with a pretty distinct leather jacket. And a cloud of smoke coming off their lips. “Hey,” he asked as he approached. “Mind if I borrow your lighter? Mine seems to have bit the dust in my time of need and I don’t want to miss the second half.”

Frank lazed against one of the dumpsters that lined the back alley of the pub. Hungrily feeding off the heat of the little cigarette stick between his fingers, and the solitude; a temporary respite from a room full of drunk, happy, people. He didn’t ask for much of his work, just the occasional smoke break, which increased in frequency the longer he went without feeding. Shane MacAuley did not share this same practice, but was sympathetic and relented with relatively little input. The same could not always be said of his coworkers who could not resist a lecture about the dangers of smoking before every break. He braced himself for another one of said lectures, when the door of the alley opened. Thank christ. He took another long drag of his smoke, content to share the space silently though that didn’t last very long. Without a word, Frank reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a little red lighter, and tossed it across the distance between them. A silent gesture to indicate that the 6 feet between them was close enough. Frank wasn’t an avid follower of any of the particular sports the pub broadcasted, but working there meant he knew about them whether he liked it or not. “Which team?”

“Thanks,” Kaden said as he caught the lighter without any trouble, his brow furrowing at the gesture to stay away. Alright. Odd, but certainly not the oddest thing in this town. Still, he held up a hand and obliged. “I’m not sick or anything, for the record,” he said as he lit the cigarette. “Just French. Hard to tell the difference, surely.” He pulled out a long drag, inhaling every pit of nicotine as he could in a single breath before tossing the lighter back. He should really quit. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that. And if he didn’t, Regan sure would tell him herself. And he had cut down a lot lately, at least when he wasn’t stressed, but something about him just liked having a vice to lean on. Giving it up entirely felt like an admission of defeat, a shift from who he saw himself distinctly as just a year ago. Plus, he was fairly certain hunter healing delayed the negative effects, right? Whatever, he was probably going to die young anyway. Might as well enjoy what he could when he could. “Lyon,” he replied as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. “You follow football at all?” His mouth pulled into a thin line as he remembered where he was. “I mean soccer. You know, if you prefer using the wrong word for it,” he added in a joking manner. Even if he did thoroughly believe that was the wrong word.

Frank felt a strange bit of guilt and the temptation to apologise, and invite the man closer, was at the tip of his tongue. Alas, he did neither, “it’s me.” He said instead, “I’ve been working out the back in the kitchen most of the day, I probably reek. I thought I’d spare you the smell, and me the embarrassment.” The smile was an easy one, and well practiced, with just enough good natured humour laced behind the words to make the excuse (and himself) seem agreeable. He was working out the back for most of his shift today. He probably smelled. Nothing about what he said was a lie. He pocketed the lighter, taking another long drag from his smoke, in time to his new company. “Ahh,” the sound came accompanied by a puff of smoke, the corner of his mouth adopting an upward lean, “I should have guessed the Frenchman would support the French team. I don’t follow football,” he made a point to say, for his new company’s sake, “or any sport really. We were never a big sports household growing up. But when you work at a place like this and that’s all that ever plays on the TV you’re forced to know what’s going on whether you want to or not. Plus it helps us relate to our patrons...or at least according to Shane.”

Kaden huffed out a laugh. “I work in Animal Control. It’s impossible for you to be the worst thing I’ve smelled today.” Add to that he was dating the medical examiner and it was a wonder he could smell anything at all anymore. Either way, he wasn’t going to push it. Far be it from him to tell anyone to be closer to anyone. “True, but it was a question of which French team. You had a 50/50 shot either way,” he said with a small smile, taking another puff of his light. “But yeah, I grew up following Olympique Lyonnais with my dad. My parents weren’t big on the whole tv or movies thing so watching a match was pretty exciting, you know.” It was one of the few normalities he got growing up and he clung to it pretty fiercely, had to admit. He got the impression when he talked to most people, they couldn’t imagine growing up without the things he’d passed over, missed out on as a kid. Was this what it felt like? Strange. He was rarely on this side of the coin. “So how’d you end up working at a sports bar with no love of sports?” Just as he asked, a chill ran down his spine. His forehead creased as he looked around cautiously to find the source, any source. Was this guy a werewolf? Would he know if he was a little closer? No, that wasn’t how it worked, not really. Sure, his hunter senses might intensify if he got a little closer but if he concentrated, and he was, a few feet wouldn’t make a huge difference. There was a rattling in the back by the dumpsters. Kaden craned his neck to look down the alleyway before catching a glance back to his current companion as if to ask a question. Should they investigate it? He was pretty sure he would either way.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Had Frank been speaking plainly he would have said something along the lines of he could not think of anything more tiresome, although the solemn tinge to the words was a pretense designed to coax his comfort and amicability, it wasn’t as if he has any particular prejudice about people who watched sport, or followed it. Okay...maybe some prejudice, although the man in front of him did not seem the type to engage in a one sided shouting contest with the TV, which was always a good sign. “My ma’s Irish. I grew up in Boston,” the owner of the bar was a gancanagh, “I feel like it’s almost inevitable.” His reply was an odd sort of stare that made Frank ill at ease, he wasn’t looking at him anyone but rather past him to something behind. That seemed to be happening a lot lately and frankly, Frank was fucking over it. Frank followed his gaze behind him to the back of the dumpsters, just beyond the ring of light graciously provided by the alleylamp. An ominous scene to witness, made worse by the rattling of metal on metal as the lid of the furthest dumpster was shaken by some unseen force. Maybe it was just some rodent. He put out the last of his cigarette on the lid of the dumpster he had been leaning on, and was more than eager to step away from it, and its trembling twin. “It’s probably just a rat or a raccoon or something,” a really big, really jacked-up, fucking raccoon. Either way, Frank wasn’t particularly interested in finding out. “Let’s just head back inside, the game should be coming back on any minute.”

As Kaden approached the dumpster, he could feel the chills spread along his back. If he wasn’t so used to it, he’d shiver, try to shake it off. Instead, he steeled himself for what was ahead, pausing only to get a glance of the other man nearby, see if he was-- Well look at that, he wasn’t following. That-- Alright, that actually made sense. This guy had some self preservation skills. Good for him. He was doing better than half this fucking town, to be honest. “I mentioned I’m animal control, right?” he said in response. “If it’s a raccoon I can handle it, don’t worry.” He could probably handle it if it was something else, too. But that wasn’t so much because of being animal control as much as being a hunter. Logic stood that Kaden should leave it be, walk away, go inside and watch the came as his current companion suggested. But he wasn’t one to back down. So he got closer still to the rattling, reaching back for the knife in his pocket and flipping it open, opposite hand reaching out for the lid, carefully. His fingers brushed against it, he was preparing to throw it open when it flung open on its own, a small, crumbly creature leaping out. It was black and white, alright, but it was no fucking raccoon.”Putain de merde!” he shouted as he lunged for it, waving the knife in front of him, trying to get a piece of the mime monster. He couldn’t manage before it threw itself, stomach leaned back to reveal its teeth, at the second smoker. “Watch out!” he yelled, trying to pull the beast away and not hurt himself in the process. Or turn striped again.

Frank, with some combination of adrenaline and fighting instinct, threw himself out of the line of fire of the set of angry gnashing teeth. Eager and hungry: a deadly combination. “What the fuck?!” His fear was palpable; weighing down his gaze as it skirted across his surroundings, tinging his cheeks with paleness as his eyes finally settled on the monster, a frown tugged at his brows, growing harsher and digging deeper the longer he tried to make sense of the beast, to put some sort of identification to the stripped abomination. Logic dictated that if he knew what it was, he would also know how to beat it. Logic was made a shadow by the fear and adrenaline that had made temporary home of his mind, and thinking was infinitely more difficult when those set of teeth turned on him again. Maybe it had preference for fae flesh? He wasn’t sure, and at this point was too afraid to ask. (Who the fuck was he even asking?) In any case, he couldn’t very well stand around waiting to get chomped on. That, at least, was clear enough to prompt action as Frank’s hand grappled for the nearest thing he could use as a weapon: a long metal pipe, that Frank himself had discarded after he fixed the pub’s sink not too long ago. Perhaps someone somewhere liked him after all. Frank’s arm rose, the metal pipe in hand, in a poor imitation of a baseball player (he was bad at sports, but boy did he have a mean swing)—and brought the improvised bat down onto the little beast’s head. Was it its head? He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Point was; he hit it where its teeth were, and he hit it hard.

Before Kaden could reach out and grab the monster by the scruff (did it have that? Putain, guess he didn’t get a chance to find out), the other man had whacked it with a pipe. The creature let out a squeal that was like nothing he’d ever heard before. Fucking hell, that was satisfying to watch. “Good job you g--” Kaden’s words caught in his throat as he saw the pipe rise away from the mime monster. It was curved. It hadn’t been curved before. “Bordel de merde!” This was cursed. So fucking cursed. The creature turned back towards the guy and leaned backwards, revealing its teeth lined stomach once more. Only this time, a long black and white striped tongue rolled out. Kaden didn’t know what the fuck it planned to do with that, but he sure didn’t like it. He leapt over and grabbed the tongue to pull it taught before slicing down through it with his knife. It severed easily enough, but there was another ungodly screech as the creature flew back, rolling away from them both. The tongue was still in his hands and it burned, like it was covered with some sort of acid. Kaden let go with a scream and it fell to the ground. Only it was still moving, slithering like a snake. “Putain de merde,” he said again, this time more horrified than annoyed. Before he could do anything else, there was another striped tongue splaying out towards them from the monster across the alleyway. His hand was throbbing, but he kept his grip on his knife and tried to slash out at the-- “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The blade on his knife was eroding. And to make matters worse, the severed-tongue turned snake was about to curl its way around his companion. Kaden tried to slam it to keep it from moving, but the monster sent its new tongue out to lash him and he ducked out of the way.

For a moment, fear was replaced by horrible fascination as they both realised the pipe was now curved to the shape of the impact. Only a moment. Fear returned just in time to propel Frank into action, prompting his legs to fling him aside just as the Frenchman wrestled with the monster’s…tongue? An already gruesome sight made only worse as his knife detached the tongue from its throat (can it even be called a throat?) and tossed it aside. The scream was loud, and within it Frank recognised a more human one. His companion had learned of his misstep too late, and now the striped tongue seemed a lot more threatening than it was as it writhed toward him. “Fuck me!” Frank half gagged, half groaned; horrified and sickened both. He didn’t know how to kill it, that much was clear. He didn’t know if it could be killed, but he didn’t have to kill it, he just needed to stop it. Now how to stop a supernatural thing? How to stop him? Iron worked well. Although the odds of finding iron in a pub owned and operated by a fae was next to none. So what next? “Jesus H!” Taking advantage of his relapse in thought, the snake—tongue—thing lurched forward. Frank had no time to think so he didn’t, but batted at it as hard as he could with his curved bat. The tongue hit the lid of an open dumpster with a wet slap and fell inside, the lid falling closed behind it. That’ll work.

The pub’s dumpsters were not yet emptied. They were big and heavy to boot. He didn’t need to kill it, he just had to stop it. Frank’s supernatural inheritance did not lend him any great advantage when it came to strength, but even on his own Frank was strong. Certainly strong enough to push a dumpster. You didn’t need to be very strong to knock someone out if you had the speed behind the punch. Without much thought (at all), Frank heaved the dumpster away from the wall and positioned it into a straight path down the length of the alleyway that ended at the brick wall. Apparently he was also dumb enough to follow on a plan that was more mad than sound, and with probably very little odds of success. “Please work, please work, please work—move!” With his legs (and a sweep of his wings), and a healthy dose of fear and adrenaline, as leverage, Frank put his entire weight onto the side of the dumpster. It obeyed with surprising ease, barreling toward the set of teeth and, the attached, striped tongue. His stomach churned at the initial impact but he wouldn’t slow, and did not slow until he felt the final lurch of the dumpster as metal hit flesh, hit brick wall. It was as if a thunder had echoed across the narrow alleyway, and the sheer force of the impact kicked back against Frank with enough ferocity to send him onto his back and knocked the wind out of him.

“Nice hit!” Kaden shouted as he watched the other man take a swing at the flying mime tongue with a curved pipe. His brow furrowed as he tried to follow whatever it was that he was doing next. “Shit!” He ducked to the side as the dumpster swung out towards him. The guy was strong. Was he a hunter? Kaden didn’t know but it didn’t fucking matter right now. He saw what was happening and ran to help, trying to throw some of his strength in to help trap the mime monster but it seemed like he didn’t have to. The other guy had it. The sound of it crunching against the wall should have been satisfying. Only Kaden knew how resilient these fuckers were. That sound didn’t mean shit. And it looked like he had put his whole force into it, too. “Shit, are you okay?” Kaden didn’t get a chance to get an answer, the dumpster was pummeling right back towards them both. “Fucking hell!” he shouted and threw himself at the dumpster, stopping it before it barreled into them both. He thought about pushing it back away from them again, but he remembered the tongue snake thing was inside. He reached for the lid, scrambled for the lock and made sure the dumpster was going to stay shut. Just in time, too, the strange four-legged creature was peeling itself from the wall and wandering back towards them both. It was like the crumbs that had formed it in the first place were pulling themselves back together, congealing. He really hated the sight of it, but it transfixed him for a moment.

Fuck, right. He had to act. Mime monster. Made of crumbs. This was probably insane and moronic. But it just might work. Kaden frantically looked around and dug a bit through the trash. The monster was making its way back towards them, its tongue ready to unleash, he could tell. Fuck, fuck, fuck, there had to be one of these in the trash. Just one. He dug some more and found it! A water bottle. Still full of water. Thank god. He ran over, ripped it open, and poured it on the creature. It squealed and screeched, but it was melting, breaking up into smaller pieces, the crumbs once again separating. He was about to turn on his heel and run when he realized it was probably a shitty idea to leave the monster out in the open like that for someone else to run into. Fuck. His eyes darted around and spotted a plastic bag. It’d have to do. He scooped up the pieces of monster like it was dog droppings, tied the bag up and threw it in the dumpster. “Come on, let’s go!” he said, running over to grab the other man’s arm and get them back safely inside. “Uh, I guess be careful when taking out that trash later.”

It was a sound that would haunt his nightmares. The screeching, the hissing, the gurgling as its own acid was choked out of it, the very body of the beast crumbling apart like wet sand. Frank had never seen any creature crumble the way that it did. It was as if the beast brought its ghostly hand (or claw, or whatever it was) and dragged it down his spine, causing a chill to rise in its place. It was a horrific scene but he could not bring himself to look away, until he felt a warm grip on his arm and he felt his entire body seize up. Were it not for the realisation that he still had his jacket on, that the other man’s hand was on the leather and not his skin, he would have jerked it out of his grasp. Thankfully after what they had just gone through, Frank didn’t need much persuading at all to leave.

Inside, the pub was peaceful…well, as peaceful as far as pubs went; some heads turned in the direction of the door as Frank and his companion burst in, but otherwise they were completely oblivious to the events that occurred not five feet away from some of them. From one of the television screens someone scored a goal, and a table erupted into a celebratory chorus. Enviably ignorant. Frank startled back to himself at the Frenchman's voice. He detected a thin note of humour laced through his words, but could not quite replicate the same enthusiasm in his own voice when he said, “yeah…right. I’ll keep that in mind.” The image of the writhing acidic tongue, and the set of razor teeth that guarded it, was one that would be not easily forgotten anytime soon. “What the fuck was that?” He said finally, strangely calm though he could feel his own heart beating a mile a minute. “You knew to grab the water bottle. I mean when that…thing attacks you, and you go dumpster diving for something you could use to defend yourself with, I mean call me crazy but I don’t think a water bottle is very high on the list of weapons you could use. Not unless you know it would stop it.” He said again in the same measured tone even when he felt anything but calm, but when the alternative was to freak out in the middle of his place of work in front of all his colleagues and customers, it wasn’t as if Frank had much of a choice. “So what the fuck kind of animal control are you?”

Kaden leaned over and braced his hands against his thighs, trying to bring his pulse back down after the fight outside. The pub was the same as before, lively and completely oblivious to anything that had happened outside just now. They had no idea how close they were to dealing with a monster had they taken one singular step outside. “I have no idea,” he said, shaking his head as he straightened himself up to look back at his companion. “I mean yeah I saw it in my apartment complex a while back. It was-- Okay, so I was being sent cookies. By the mimes. It’s always the fucking mimes. And they kept sending them and they were black and white and cursed. Fucking cursed. Some were stuck in my door. Not on. In. And then the thirteenth day. Thirteenth because it was fucking cursed, they-- the cookies-- They exploded. And the walls: striped. The hallway: striped. I was--” He stopped. On second thought maybe leave that out. No need to explain his momentary stripes. Or the mime face paint. “And the crumbs. The crumbs, they-- They built up a thing.” He gestured, his hands trying to make a vaguely monster-y shaped thing. “That thing. A monster thing. Like the ones in the alleyway by those mime places, you know?” The look on his face said he didn’t know. Putain. If only he could stop talking, but no, his mouth wouldn’t stop moving. “But I don’t know, I figured crumbs. Water. Might work. Because I can’t figure out how to kill it because you saw-- you saw what happened when you hit it. The pipe. It bent. That thing. It’s fucking indestructible. The mimes. They always fucking come back.” It was then he realized how absolutely fucking insane he sounded. And that this guy might be onto what he really was. Putain. “What do you mean what kind of animal control am I? The kind that works for the fucking police, that kind.” Sure. That made it better. Great.

“Cursed mime cookies…right.” A pause, and then a resigned, “excellent.” Frank angled his head a small fraction to the left, the gesture one of grudging acceptance. Experience had counseled (begrudgingly) him that to deny the explanation or to demand logic to the madness would somehow always succeed in making him more insane. After all, he had already seen ghost girls crawling out of leaky TVs, and was very nearly impaled by a rampant moose were it not for the intervention of his friend, the werewolf, and he’d had seen through a storm of dog-toys, why not add mime monsters to the fucking list? Or perhaps he ought to curate a new one: A series of things White Crest will try to kill him with. Mime monsters existed somewhere near the top, right next to killer moose.

“Animal control that works for the police. Of course,” Frank acquiesced, a weary bite to his voice. He didn’t expect to laugh but he did, a short sharp exhalation followed that gave birth to a lingering smile that looked more tired than mirthful. In the security of the pub and the ignorance of its patrons, the adrenaline from their fight was beginning to drain out of him, giving way to the fatigue that perpetually weighed his bones, and Frank didn’t have the energy to demand the truth out of the man. He didn’t particularly want to. Perhaps his shift would have gone more peacefully had he not gone out for his smoke break when he did, had he remained oblivious to the remains of the monster that now occupied the dumpster that lined up the wall of the bar, point was, perhaps it was better if he didn’t know anymore than he did. In any case, it wasn’t as if the Frenchman was the only one with secrets to guard. “Look, I don’t care what the fuck you are, you saved our asses back there so thanks. But you have got to get better at your own bullshit man...and maybe don’t talk so much.” Frank peeled himself off the door, and started toward the bar, picking up a towel and throwing it over his shoulder; he was still technically on the clock. He turned back to his companion, his voice softened by the smile that had a little more good-humour in it than the last, “come on French guy, I’ll pour you a beer.”

#wickedswriting #writing #chatzy #frankmulloy #frank #mime your manners

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general-mahamatra · 5 years ago

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Beautiful Red Chrysanthemums

Pairing: Ralbert (one-sided)

Genre: Angst/Whump

TW: Angst, gore, graphic depictions of sickness, graphic depictions of injuries, hanahaki disease, body horror

Word count: 3710

It’s impossible to hide everything.

For a while there will be that sense of security, that sense of safety knowing no one knows. But soon enough that wall begins to crumple. At first it’s only bits and pieces here and there. A tiny secret about that one night after the party, the small cut from the fire escape; a torn picture that fell from an open wallet.

The fact that Albert has managed to keep his secret for so long is a miracle in itself. He’s managed to do whatever he could to keep it from the public eye. Whether it was blaming his coughing on the flu or swallowing everything that came up only to wretch later, he did what he could. If word got out what was happening to him, he’d be done for.

It was why he was now shaking behind a dumpster in some backend alleyway.

Albert collapsed to his knees, one arm clutching his stomach and the other propped up on the brick wall. Saliva dripped from his mouth as he struggled to breathe. Each inhale was ragged and short, barely getting him enough oxygen. His eyes fluttered while his head spun. Nothing was staying in focus. Not his thoughts or the pile of bloodstained chrysanths mixed with bile.

Beads of sweat rolled down the back of his neck despite the cool autumn air. It was sickening, knowing that he was soiling his clothing with his own sweat and blood.

Another shiver passed over Albert. His stomach lurched and the next thing he knew, he was vomiting. The horrid mix of petals and his lunch gathered on the cement below him. The smell of it was enough to make Albert’s nausea grow.

Albert’s purging was quickly cut off by coughing. He was barely able to breathe in when he kept hacking. Soon, new petals came up and out of his mouth, dropping to the ground soaked in blood. They dropped like pebbles, each one falling as quickly as they came up. Petal after petal to the point when he managed to inhale, he only sucked them back in and started to choke.

The choking soon led to more vomiting to the point he could barely hold himself up at the same time.

His hand was now pressed against the wall, his fingers curling into the brick as he tried to hold on. A sharp pain soon burst down from his fingertips as Albert pressed his nails even harder into the stone. They bent and tore, leaving an open path to the rough stone beneath. Slowly but surely, blood started to gather there as well.

Finally, the flowers stopped.

Albert sucked in a ragged breath and closed his eyes. His hold on the wall loosened as he leaned forward, resting his head against the bricks. The familiar tingle of tears is what pulled him back to reality. With each one that fell, he was brought closer to awareness until he was thrown back into the moment.

He shuddered and opened his bleary eyes. The world remained out of focus, warping and twisting every time he blinked.

It took a while for his heartrate to slow. Albert sat there shaking for what felt like ages. A cool breeze bit at his arms and sent a large shiver throughout his body.

Eventually, he was able to sit back and look at the mess he made. As he stared, his vision began to clear and he could make out just what exactly lay before him: the petals of a red chrysanthemum.

Albert grimaced at the sight. How ironic.

It’s not like they’re anything new. They’ve been around the whole time, but he had been hoping that one day maybe they’d change to something less torturous.

It took him ages to figure out what they meant. He snuck into flower shops to try and find a match for nights on end. He even stole a booklet about what each flower meant at one point until finally he figured out what they were called. As Albert searched further, he soon came across their meaning:

The red chrysanthemum: a sign of love and accentuated passion.

Love. His love for that idiotic boy who always told those stupid jokes. The boy who always teased him in the mornings about stupid dreams; the boy whose smile made Albert’s heart flutter every time.

Passion. Oh how passionate Albert was about the boy. He always tried to get the boy to smile and be happy. He made an effort to be around him throughout the day and be the person the boy could turn to.

The boy named Anthony Higgins.

Albert wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. As he lowered them, he glanced down at his injured nails. All of them were torn and jagged. One of them had ripped too far, exposing the sensitive skin that was now bleeding.

Despite how unsanitary it was, Albert found it a better idea to place the injured finger in his mouth to clear the blood rather than wipe it on his clothing. It was disgusting but far less painful. As he glanced around what he could of the alley, he tried to remember where he was.

Albert barely recalled how he ended up where he now sat. All he could remember was running from God knows where to find someplace private.

His eyes landed on the bag of newspapers he had yet to sell. Albert tooks his finger out of his mouth and gently pressed it on his jeans. He then pulled himself to his feet using the dumpster and managed to stumble over to his bag.

When he picked up the bag, he slung it across his shoulders. He just needed to sell twenty more papers and he can be done for the day.

Albert didn’t even bother to wait until he could properly stand before he exited the alley. After all, looking like absolute shit might get him some sympathy. But first, he needed to find a place to clean up – some sort of store where he could just go into the bathroom and wash himself.

Anything to keep the others from knowing.

By the end of the day, Albert had successfully sold the rest of his papers.

It was difficult at first. Some people didn’t want to come near him considering he looked like absolute death. It also didn’t help just how much he found himself coughing. Every couple minutes or so Albert was hacking up petals.

He was able to be discreet at least. He spat them into the palm of his hand and shoved them into his pockets. Every once and a while he’d empty his pockets into a dumpster when there were too many.

It was a daily routine at this point.

Cough, hide, dispose, repeat. Whenever lunch or dinner came around, Albert would swallow whatever came up to the point he barely had room to eat. Not that anyone noticed.

It became so ingrained into his daily life that Albert didn’t consider it a disease. It was just part of him.

For a while, he thought he was going insane. He thought his sanity was slipping because there was no way he could be coughing up petals. Given there were so few at first, it was a safe conclusion.

Days turned into weeks which turned into months. It wasn’t long until two years had passed and he came across an article that caught his eye.

Hanahaki Disease, the Deadly Game of Love Me, Love Me Not.

Albert read the article the moment he got some peace. Whether it was fate or sheer coincidence he found the title appealing was up for interpretation. The simple fact he had found it was yet another miracle.

It was then that he learned what was wrong with him and why all he could ever do was spit out petals. He learned just how rare it was in America.

Yet, ironically, he never learned how deadly the disease was.

Oh, Albert was suspicious alright, but it only hung in the back of his mind.

The article was what brought the revelation to him. It was what explained that he was sick. No, not an illness. Lovesick.

Hanahaki Disease, the disease of unrequited love. Only curable by being loved in return.

He vividly remembers how the world seemed to fall apart around him. The moment he figured out what was going on was the moment he shattered. There was nothing he could do.

Now, four months later, it had gotten so much worse.

There were many nights Albert found himself stuck awake, purging all of the petals he swallowed and coughing up absurd amounts of blood.

At one point he felt like his insides were being shredded as he was thrown into a coughing fit. Seconds felt like minutes as he struggled for air. He clawed at his throat and soon felt like his insides were being pulled out through his mouth when entire flowers had ripped their way free.

That night lasted longer than the rest.

Luckily, the entire afternoon had gone alright other than when he was stranded in the alleyway. Albert had made it to Jacobi’s just fine and the evening was going well until he started coughing again.

The first one caught him by surprise, leaving him stuck with a handful of petals and bloody strings of saliva trailing from his mouth. Albert quickly closed his fist and wiped his face before shoving the petals into his pocket.

He managed to make the rest of them seem like he’s just clearing his throat and was able to get everything back down. After doing this multiple times within ten minutes, the other newsies were starting to make fun of him. They teased him about getting into Race’s stash of cigars and getting ‘smokers lung’. Albert simply laughed along with them.

For a lot of the night, Albert hung around Race. Only this time, it wasn’t as clean as usual. It started to hurt to breathe to the point if felt like his lungs were cloudy per se. It was a gradual change though, so it wasn’t too bad. It was just something he would have to deal with until he could get some privacy again.

Albert and Race joked around for a while. They bickered back and forth with light-hearted arguments and proceeded to tag-team tackle Jack. It was fun to say the least. Albert was enjoying himself for the first time that day.

At one point, Race let slip and absolutely horrible, inappropriate joke about Jack and Davey that made Albert and the few others listening crumble into maniacal laughter.

Laughter that sent Albert into a coughing fit.

He didn’t say a word as he covered his mouth and shot to his feet. He stumbled from the table, trying to keep himself from coughing too much as he made his way to the bathroom. When he was finally there, he locked himself in the small room and collapsed by the toilet.

Albert got his wish: he stopped coughing. Though, that wasn’t exactly a good thing.

He started gagging, unable to cough as he sat there clutching the toilet. He felt as though someone had jammed a rod down his throat and didn’t even bother to pull it out.

It wasn’t long before he was dry heaving.

Each convulsion was sporadic as his body contorted. Albert could barely control how he moved as his mind zeroed in on the fact he couldn’t breathe. Every airway was blocked just right.

His nose started to burn, making his eyes bulge in shock. The same excruciating pain that used to be contained to his throat was now in his sinuses as he started gasping. He began to grasp at his neck, trying to somehow alleviate the pressure to inhale.

Albert became frantic when darkness started to creep from the edges of his vision. The only thing in his mind was a repetitive chant. Need to breathe, need to breathe, need to breathe.

Another reflexive dry heave is what managed to push something into the back of his mouth. With the inability to cough it up or spit it out, Albert shakily reached into his mouth and shoved his hand as far back as possible. The action itself made him gag but he was able to snag a hold of what was in his throat.

When Albert started to pull, he began to choke. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he felt whatever he was pulling slice through his sinuses and throat. His gagging got worse as the tang of copper hit his tongue.

He kept tugging, even as he felt blood drip from his nose and mouth. Panic and adrenaline both became the driving forces that urged him to pull harder until he managed to rip an entire flower out, roots and all. Albert didn’t even get the chance to look at it before he fell into yet another coughing fit from trying to suck in air.

The adrenaline began to wear off when Albert was able to breathe around the blood pooling in his mouth. A pounding headache made itself known as he lifted the flower into his sight.

The red mum that lay in his hand was in perfect shape aside from the petals he tore. The stem that was attached was slick with blood, the roots even darker.

All because Race made him laugh.

Albert got up from the toilet and flushed it, wiping off the blood with his hands before proceeding to wash them and his face. It didn’t stop the bleeding within his sinuses but at least it wasn’t on his face anymore. He then bunched up the chrysanth and shoved it into his pocket.

He wasn’t sure what to do afterward. The last time anything big came out it was just the flower itself and it never left his throat. Never. Anxiety was beginning to latch on as his mind started to race with questions.

Why was there a stem? Why were there roots? How did it grow so fast into his head?

No, he couldn’t think about that, not now. It’s not important.

He needed to keep the others from knowing.

When Albert returned to the rest of the newsies, Race went out of his way to ask if he was okay. Albert nodded and assured the other he was fine, he just was coming down with a cold.

That seemed to satisfy Race for the rest of the evening.

For the rest of dinner and the entire way back to the lodging, Albert continued to try and clear his throat and just swallow it all. He barely touched the sandwich Race had ordered him or opened his mouth to speak. He was as quiet as he could muster.

When they got to the lodging, Albert made a beeline for his room. He’s had his own for a while now, ever since he moved in actually. Almost everyone else had a roommate but with his disease…

Albert counted himself lucky.

He ignored Race calling after him, asking if he wanted to hang out before they went to bed. He ignored how much he wanted to say yes, how much his heart ached at his wish to stay with Race

Albert was quick to go upstairs and enter his room. He closed and locked the door behind him before staggering to his bed. He collapsed onto it without bothering to kick off his shoes.

Exhaustion held him like a puppet, forcing him to close his eyes and lay still. For a while, it worked. The world fell away around him as he slipped into unconsciousness.

The fitful sleep didn’t last long. Albert woke to his stomach churning

In hopes of stemming the nausea, Albert curled into a tight ball, arms wrapped around his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to ignore the pain, but it only grew worse. It weaved its way into his throat by the time he started to get worried.

The awful tickling sensation poked at his throat, causing Albert to start coughing. It was a small one at first – the typical dry cough at the start of a cold – but it grew. Within moments he was leaning over the edge of the bed and hacking. It was nonstop.

Saliva slowly dripped from his mouth, strands hanging as drops flew with every cough. Dry heaves joined rather quickly, leaving very little time for him to breathe normally.

The dry heaving took a turn for the worse as bile forced its way up. It fell to the floor in larger quantities, the sour fluids stinging his tongue as it carried large bunches of petals with it. Over and over, more petals and blood shoved its way out as Albert lay stranded and helpless. He couldn’t move as he wretched.

He was stuck.

The vomiting shifted back to coughing when he accidentally inhaled his own fluids. He was a sputtering mess that soon found his throat clogged once again.

Fear took hold and sent him into a frantic frenzy. Despite the fact he was convulsing and wheezing, Albert was able to get out of bed and fall to the floor. He landed on his hands and knees as his entire body shook with another ragged cough.

Cough after cough after cough, all getting stuck in his throat trying to dislodge whatever was there.

The moment it came loose, Albert gagged and spat up dozens of petals. They kept coming, each one managing to tickle his throat just right to stimulate even more coughs.

Drenched red petals fell below him, some sticking to the sides of his face. They covered the hardwood floor as well as his hands. Bile mixed with blood dribbled down his chin and seeped into his shirt as his hands were covered in even more bodily fluids.

At any other time, Albert would be outright disgusted. He would try and clean himself up and make a conscious effort to keep himself from messing everywhere. Alas, this was definitely not one of those times.

A weird feeling of something slithering up his throat made Albert gag yet again. It twisted its way up until it stabbed its way into his sinuses.

He tried to reach into his mouth like earlier that night but there was nothing he could grab. He merely sent himself further into a fit with more petals.

The pain was becoming unbearable and his airways were getting blocked. Whatever had come up was now weaving into his nose and ripping the sensitive tissue.

Albert gasped and crawled over to the door. He was growing delirious, unable to think and only following his instincts. He had no idea where he was going to go, but he knew he had to get out.

He reached up towards the lock and flipped it open before falling into another fit. A piercing pain blossomed in his chest, sending Albert into a moment of shock. It gripped his lungs tight, feeling as if hundreds of needles were stabbing them without hesitation.

Using this as motivation, Albert pulled himself to his feet using the door handle and opened the door. He stepped into the hallway and fell against the wall, unable to support himself. He used it to keep himself upright as he stumbled along.

He came across the door he was looking for and twisted his handle. By his luck, it was unlocked and he fell inside.

The boy that was on the bed might’ve been asleep for all Albert could tell. The hacking grew worse until it cut out. He couldn’t get a single noise out as what could only be full flowers completely shut off his airway.

Strings of saliva continued to fall as the flowers started to push their way out. As they did this, the needles in his chest turned to knives. He felt as though he was being shredded from the inside out, every attempted cough sending jolts of pain through his entire body.

Whatever was sliding through his head continued to move, now reaching for his ears and mouth. It poked and prodded everywhere until the next thing Albert knew, he couldn’t hear. A sharp pain radiated from his ears soon followed by the sticky flow of blood.

Albert wouldn’t have noticed that he had been moved if he hadn’t tried to blink away his tunnel vision. With his pointless attempts to breathe and everything he felt across his body, he didn’t feel the pair of hands that had grabbed him.

He almost didn’t see the worried face above him either. What Albert saw barely registered, though, as he tried to reach for his mouth again. That was when he truly began to choke.

His eyes shot open as the fully-bloomed flowers lodged themselves in his throat. He began to claw at his neck, the jagged nails slicing into his skin. Cut after cut, if he could just get it out-

Strong hands grabbed Albert’s and held them against his chest. Though, those soon disappeared when he felt something slimy trail along his face. From his ears to his nose to his mouth, it slid around and down to his neck.

Albert managed to blink away the darkness again to see the terrified boy above him one last time before the slimy tendrils slipped over his eyes. With one last splurge of energy, he tried to tear whatever it was off his face.

Except, his movements were weak. They grew slower despite Albert’s growing panic.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t see.

He couldn’t hear.

He was left clawing at his own body trying to free himself with one last frantic spark before that too faded.

A hand slid into Albert’s, their fingers interlocking.

Agonizing pain burst from his chest. Tendrils slid across his body.

And then, there was nothing.

Anthony Higgins sat there holding his best friend, tears streaming down his face as he fell into silent shock. Albert lay limp, beautiful red chrysanthemums blooming from his mouth as many more weaved across his face and body, twisting into a messy flower crown.

And they say love doesn’t kill.

It does. Just with it’s own cruel, ironic twist.

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