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melanie-ohara · 4 months

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Oh, The Weather Outside is Frightful - Chapter 2

Whumpuary2024, Day 02 - Prompt: Captivity

Ryder sets out to rescue her turian

AO3 here

Ryder stopped the video and played it again from the beginning. Vetra looked down at her with frantic eyes, the skin around them raw and red from the freezing air. She watched her burying the helmet and scooping snow over it with fingers that didn't bend, and then allowing herself to be dragged away by those kett bastards.

"SAM," Ryder said, surprising herself with the steadiness of her voice. "Trace the radiation signature from the shuttle engines and cross reference with the impact vector from the wreckage. Find me that ship."

"Processing," SAM said.

Normally Sara found the clipped and artificial tone of his voice soothing, but now it grated on her ear and she tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for him to speak again.

"The shuttle disappeared fifteen kilometers to the north-east, where an area of high-albedo ice interferes with scanners. It is the likely location of a kett base."

"Peebee, Drack, we're moving out," she said, and handed Vetra's helmet to the krogan for safekeeping. She handled it almost reverantly, and he grabbed her shoulder before she could turn away.

"We'll get her back, Ryder," he growled.

"You're damn right we will."

The kett installation was buried under a sheet of bright white ice almost twenty metres thick, which at least meant they hadn't seen the Nomad coming. Peebee cracked the security on a side door, which is where Ryder left behind her usual cautious, methodical approach. The door slid open and she darted inside with a biotic blink that took her halfway across the room. By the time Drack had even armed his shotgun the two kett guards were dead, heads severed from their necks by deadly strikes from an asari sword. Sara barely glanced at the bodies and instead went straight to the wall console, looking for feeds from the base security cameras.

"Let me," Peebee offered. Ryder was getting better at operating kett tech, but her speciality was still the Remnant. Peebee half expected the Pathfinder to snap at her, but she shoved herself away from the controls and let her take over.

The base was bigger than they had expected, but it wasn't the staging ground they feared - the kett presence would be manageable, especially given that most of them were new converts from the exaltation facility, but the scale of the operation was a shock. Peebee kept flipping through the feeds, looking for Vetra.

"Have the kett exalted any turians before?" Drack asked, leaning against the half-open door that led deeper into the facility so he could cover the corridor with his shotgun.

Nobody spoke.

"Ryder," he prompted. She sighed.

"Not that we know of," she said, focusing studiously on picking imaginary dirt from the pristine leather wrap of her sword hilt. "Dextro-amino acid chains aren't compatible with kett physiology."

"Yet," Peebee said. "They aren't compatible yet. "

Ryder tapped the blade of her sword against the armour plate on her thigh, and fought the urge to tell Peebee to shut up.

"There," the asari said, finally finding a useful camera feed. Sara sheathed her sword and hurried to the viewscreen, where her stomach sank into the ground. The camera panned slowly down a row of cells that looked more cages than somewhere to keep prisoners, too cramped for comfort - especially for someone as tall as a turian. Most were empty. Some were stained with blood. There was an adhi in one, strapped to an operating table and stuck through with so many tubes Ryder first thought it was some undiscovered species of spider. And then, in the last cage of the row, was Vetra. She had been stripped to her underarmour and strapped to a similar table. The restraints wrapped around each of her limbs, one for each joint, and pinned her head down. Surely the kett could see that turian necks were not supposed to bend that far back?

"Is she alive?" Ryder asked. Again, she was surprised to find her voice flat and stable.

"I… can't tell," Peebee said. "But look, she's hooked up to something." She pointed out a thin translucent tube that ran into Vetra's arm from one of the kett's strange insectoid machines.

"What the fuck is that doing to her?" Ryder growled. Her fists balled at her sides and her mouth ran dry.

"Don't know," Drack said. He hadn't moved from the doorway, but now he shoved the sliding door all the way open. "Let's go put a stop to it."

Sara could focus while they were fighting. Every biotic lance she threw, every knock her shields took, every kett that died on her sword kept her mind on advancing and off that dreadful image of Vetra strapped down in the cage. It wasn't long before the newly exalted kett were just fleeing before them while Drack complained about the lack of fight in them.

"Fight back!" Sara screamed at them, but they ignored her. She wasn't ready to face that room, not yet, but she still wasn't going to shoot them while they fled. "You bastards!" she shouted, but none of them turned back. Peebee grabbed her arm to stop her chasing after them.

"It's this way," she said, softly, and Sara didn't like her tone - it made her feel like a frightened child. She gripped her sword and tried to get a hold of herself as she nodded.

Someone shut down the power to prison to cut them off, but Sara had Drack to lever the door open and the three of them stepped into the darkened room with their weapons drawn. Their armour-mounted flashlights drew bright fingers of light across the bare metal ground, casting hard shadows of the cage bars around the room. The smell of blood and death lingered in the air. Sara pushed past Peebee and winced at the echoing of her footsteps. If there was anyone in there they'd have heard them already, or seen their flashlight beams, so she didn't bother with caution.

"Vetra!" she called out, but didn't get a reply. Instead, she could hear muffled arguing - unmistakably kett voices. Sara unclipped her sword from her back and carried it in her off-hand, reversing her grip so she could rest her pistol against the crook of her elbow as she advanced past the empty cells.

There was a loud and disgusting wrenching crunch followed by a rattling screech as the kett did something to the adhi. Ryder couldn't make out their words, but they were clearly killing it. She had to stop them before they moved on to Vetra.

If they hadn't already.

The benefit of cages instead of sealed cells was that Sara didn't have to open the door to kill the scientists inside. There was no way she could save the adhi now: they had peeled open its ribs to plug cables and tubes directly into its organs. Anything that wasn't pierced by something mechanical was being leeched of so much blood that the flesh had turned white. Ryder's stomach lurched thinking about Vetra suffering the same cruelties, and spent a few precious seconds putting the adhi out of its misery with a shot to its exposed heart. It died with a gasp that sounded like relief.

Vetra was in the next occupied cage. Drack and Peebee kept their distance to cover their flank, halfway convinced that the fleeing kett were a ruse and the power cut was a setup for a counter-attack. Sara ignored their tactical concerns, too hell bent on finding her turian to worry about things like escaping or even surviving.

Standing over Vetra's still form was another kett scientist, Ryder recognised from the more delicate shape of its limbs - much more suited to delicate scientific instruments than combat. He held a sharp blade to the gap between Vetra's brow plates and made soulless eye contact with Sara through the bars.

"The door is sealed, human," the kett said, voice barely more than a whisper. "If you kill me, my blade will pierce this woman's brain and she will die. Which neither of us wants."

Ryder felt her lip turn up in disgust, but she forced herself to lower her pistol until it dropped from her fingers entirely.

"What do you want?" she snarled.

The kett's grip on the knife tightened. He spoke, but Ryder was too busy looking at Vetra to listen to him. Her thin lips were an unhealthy shade of blue, and the exposed skin around her eyes was bulging, red and raw, out of the plates of her face. But there was a subtle rise and fall of her chest, and an occasional movement of her eyes under their lids. She was not only alive, but conscious enough to dream. That was good enough for Sara.

"Sorry," she said, cutting off the kett scientist mid-sentence. The cage bars were narrow, but still spaced out enough that the brief incorporeality granted by a powerful enough biotic blink carried her through them like empty space. Her sword flashed up from her side in a movement so fast she didn't even see it move, slicing diagonally through the kett's wrist and connecting with the hilt of his blade hard enough to hurl it across the room. By the time it had stuck fast in the opposite corner, Sara had brought the sword down hard between the kett's eyes and split his head open.

"No deal," she said as he slid to the floor.

She heard Drack whistle at her stunt from the other side of the cage door, but she was too busy rushing to Vetra's side. Her sword dropped from her grip as she pulled up her omni-tool - first as a blade, to slice through that vicious strap keeping her head pinned too far back, and then as a medical scanner.

"Vetra, tell me you can hear me," she begged as she passed the warm orange light down her body. She had been out in Voeld's freezing temperatures for far too long, but the kett had been raising her core temperature and applying medi-gel in a way that almost seemed gentle . By the time the scan had finished, Sara had no doubt that without her captors, Vetra would have died.

She decided to thank them later.

The rest of her bonds and the drip were easily severed with a flash of her omni-tool, and by the time her limbs were freed Vetra was starting wake up.

"Sara?" she croaked, and tears welled into Ryder's eyes before she could stop them.

"I'm here," she gasped out from under a wave of relief. The fear still lingered - there could still be lasting damage if they didn't get her to Lexi on the Tempest soon, but she was breathing and speaking, and that was enough to calm her worries for a moment.

"It hurts," Vetra managed, trying to lift a frostbitten limb. "I can't open my eyes."

Ryder couldn't look at the welts around the only exposed skin on her face. "Don't try," she said, trying to sound confident that she would be okay. "There's nothing worth seeing here anyway."

Vetra made a sound that might have been a laugh and Ryder's heart somersaulted in her chest. She felt Vetra's hand brush against her wrist and quickly grabbed her hand.

"Ryder, I can't feel my legs. I can't walk," she whispered.

Sara was glad, for now at least, that Vetra couldn't see. She pressed angrily at her eyes to stem the tears and nodded.

"Drack?"

"I got it," the krogan said as he wrenched open the door and lumbered inside. Sara only let go of Vetra's hand while Drack carefully lifted her off the operating table, and then immediately wrapped her fingers back around Vetra's once she was settled.

"Not the first time I've had to haul you out of a cell," Drack pointed out. He was joking but there was a strain in his voice that made Ryder acutely aware that he had been just as scared as she was.

"No," Vetra croaked, "but this one makes us even."

Laughing almost broke her, but Sara choked back her hysterics. She'd save them for later, when she should could share them with Vetra alone.

"Let's get you out of here."

#whumpuary #whumpuaryno1 #captivity #mass effect #mass effect andromeda #sara ryder #vetra nyx #fanfic #ao3 link #whumpuary2024

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ichayalovesyou · 2 years

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Sorry it took so long, almost lost the ask and had to go through hell and back to retrieve it! This was a really fun prompt, honestly part of what took so long was picking my favorite set up! Enjoy!

Woe to Needless Heroics (Platonic Pike x Reader)

Requested by; @trekkiehood

Rating: Teen (Minor gore and language)

Word Count: 1k

Content: SFW/Platonic, GN!Reader, Lieutenant!Reader, Semi-canon EMT!Pike, Protective!Pike, tw claustrophobic environment, blood, broken bones, environmental whump, hurt/comfort.

Teaser: This rickety ship wreck is full of unpleasant surprises. You just made rank, deciding to accompany Captain Pike down a hallway in search of survivors, and find more than what you'd bargained for.

The wreckage creaked and gave way above both of you. You shoved the Captain out of the way before he could think of doing the same.

“Lieutenant!”

You were pinned, your leg and chest were screeching with pain, crushed under the weight of the failed support beams on top of you.

“No, no no no, come on!” It would’ve been a whisper if it weren’t for the echo.

You heard the sounds of physical effort and clattering metal “Lieutenant Y/N are you alright?!”

You couldn’t answer, couldn’t breathe or see.

“Lieutenant please respond!”

“Here sir! I’m here!” You croaked.

You struggled to pull what was surely your minced leg out from beneath the debris, but you couldn’t seem to catch your breath. The wind must have gotten knocked out of you.

More clattering metal, then a beam of light from a flashlight, the Captain had found you! You both sighed in relief, but the Captain’s face fell almost immediately, as did your gut in reply.

“That’s not good,” he said quietly to himself.

Captain Pike’s eyes were darting about, assessing you, the beams, the walls around. It did nothing for the anxiety. Or was the pain in your chest just from the weight of the metal pinning you to the ground?

“You think you can help me get this thing off you Lieutenant Y/N?” He smirked through his poorly disguised intensity.

You nodded, but when you tried to help him with the beam across you, you felt yourself starting to hyperventilate. The captain looked alarmed, reevaluating. It seemed he didn’t need much help with the beam, he was pretty strong as it turned out. Especially with the increased sense of urgency rippling through his features.

“Wasn’t the smartest choice Lieutenant. I know you just made rank but playing hero like that is the fastest route to well, this.” Captain Pike knelt beside you, looking worried, maybe disappointed.

“No choice, sir. Saved-” You wheezed and coughed, something was definitely wrong with your chest.

The pain in your leg was getting worse too, but the last thing you wanted was to further humiliate yourself in front of the Captain. Though the creeping fear your life was in danger the longer you stayed in this shipwreck.

“Heads up wouldn’t’ve hurt, literally” he laughed half-heartedly as he rifled around in his pocket for something “We could’ve both dodged it.”

You weren’t sure if you believed that or not. The thing he was looking for almost fell out of his pocket, rolling away before the Captain before he snatched it back up again.

“Medical tricorder sir?” You tried to sound casual and not terrified. Failing in all likelihood.

“This isn’t my first away mission, best to come prepared, and uh you might wanna stop talking.”

You winced in shame, the Captain’s expression softened.

“Don’t need a tricorder to tell me that you’ve got a punctured lung Lieutenant. Don’t want you hurting yourself more than you-“

The metal behind you shifted, your leg protested wrathfully, something tore. You cried out with what little strength you had in your damaged lungs.

Seeing the blood starting to pool where your leg was still trapped beneath a wall of metal and stone. Pike instantly opened his communicator.

“Captain Pike to away team, Lieutenant Y/N is injured and trapped under debris. Can’t move them by myself without risking further collapse. Doc, do you copy?”

“On my way.” The communicator crackled.

“Always when the transporter can’t get to us. Isn’t that always the way?” Pike said with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

You didn’t find it all that amusing.

“Am I gonna die sir?” You blurted with a harsh whisper that trailed into a whine.

The Captain looked at you instead of your wounds or environment for the first time since this mess started, taken aback and sympathetic.

“Oh no, no! Hey.” He placed a hand on your shoulder “You’re gonna be just fine, M’Benga is gonna be here any minute, and it’ll be a lot easier to pull you out with the whole team here. Nobody’s dying today. We’ll get back to the ship and you’ll be out of sickbay in 24 hours tops. You’re gonna be fine.”

He looked down the hallway impatiently, not taking his hand away from your shoulder. You were so tired, but too scared to let yourself rest. The rational part of you believed your Captain, and the hand was immensely reassuring, but the rest of you? It was scared of where you’d be when you woke up.

In what felt like an eternity later, Dr. M’Benga and the four other away team members turned the corner.

“Here I was thinking that we would be doing search and rescue for the crew of the Hermes, not for our own.” The CMO commented dryly.

“You’re not alone on that one Doc, now, let’s get ‘em out of here.” Pike replied.

Three crewmen held the debris in place, Nurse Chapel crouched at the ready to take care of your leg, M’Benga was doing further scans of your pulverized ribs.

“Take my arms alright? We’re gonna pull you out.” The Captain instructed softly.

“Three, two, one!”

It hurt like a bitch, but you could feel yourself pull free, the cold of the wreck hitting your blood soaked pant leg like a space frigate.

“Yikes! Looks like an undercooked lasagna down here.”

“Nurse!” M’Benga chided.

“Sorry! Working on it.” She replied.

You looked up incredulously, Nurse Chapel’s face looked like it was debating on whether to laugh or apologize to you. You daren’t look at your leg, deciding to take her word for it. Her total bluntness had earned an involuntary and excruciating laugh from you.

“See, I told you you were gonna be just fine.” Captain Pike chuckled “But seriously don’t laugh, takes forever to heal. Believe me, I know.”

You wondered if he’d ever tell you that story, it didn’t matter really, you were alive, and the Captain had helped you stay that way.

That was good enough for you.

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callipraxia · 1 year

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A Simple Interview

(A quick one-off in response to a prompt - behold, what would normally be a very rough draft! Side note, yes, I know Frankenstein is the scientist and not the monster, but alas, the narrator hasn't read the book or encountered the Internet)

Summary: A rookie cop gets the unwelcome task of informing Stanford Pines - supposed scientist-turned-showman and the subject of many a local rumor - both that his brother has died under mysterious circumstances and that it's possible Stanley stumbled into a murder that wasn't supposed to be his. Stanley died in Stanford's stolen car, so were the brakes cut by Stanley's enemies or by Stanford's? And will Officer Clutterbuck survive entering the Murder Hut outside of business hours long enough to ask?

* * * * * * * *

The flaming wreckage of a wrecked car was found in a ditch 4 miles from the Highway 618 at 6am Monday morning. The cut brakes and odd location of the car suggest that this was no accident. Says a rookie cop, “Mighty suspicious. Mighty suspicious.” In other news… News clipping from “Not What He Seems,” seemingly reporting the death of Stan Pines.

* * * * * * * *

Some people, it was said, had all the luck, and Officer Clutterbuck agreed that this must be true. It was, after all, the best explanation he’d heard for why his luck was so chronically bad. Some people had all the luck, and Officer Clutterbuck didn’t happen to be one of them. If he had been, he never would have even heard that someone named Stanley Pines had apparently stolen his twin brother’s car, much less have been ordered to come tell said twin brother that Stanley had then proceeded to crash it into a ditch and die.

Nervously, he knocked on the unpainted cabin door, half-hoping no-one would answer. A few months ago, the hermit who owned it had suddenly opened it up for tours of his laboratory, but before that, rumors had always swarmed around this place like gnats around overripe bananas. Strange lights, strange sounds - strange man, or so they said, and the looks of his house didn’t make the whispers seem any less likely. Not only was it a desolate sort of spot despite the effort recently made to pin some signs to it, there was also just…the Murder Hut?

As a Halloween attraction, maybe it would have made sense - but to call it that all the time, that seemed a little much, at least to Officer Clutterbuck. He knew, though, that he wasn’t very clever, and also that it was possible his judgment was affected because of what he was here to say. It came across, right now, as the world’s most tasteless joke, but maybe under other circumstances….

Footsteps approached the other side of the door, and then there was a long pause before he heard some locks click and the door - still held mostly closed with a chain - opened a sliver, allowing Officer Clutterbuck to see a few distorted shadows. It took him a moment to recognize them as isolated human features. He succeeded in recognizing this only a second before a gruff voice said, “Whadda you want?”

Officer Clutterbuck cleared his throat. “Uh - Stanford Pines?” he asked.

“Uh - “ the man on the other side of the door coughed. “Who wants to know?”

“I’m Officer Clutterbuck - I'm with the sheriff's department?” He saw what he was pretty sure was an eye widen and thought the man was about to slam the door before he quickly added, “I’m - uh - I’m here to talk about your brother?”

There was another long pause, during which Officer Clutterbuck really wished he had some backup. He was barely out of what passed for the county police training academy and had never even arrested anyone. What could possibly make him the best guy to tell someone that someone who the first someone had known had probably been murdered? And that was if the someone had been a normal person, not some weirdo hermit who…all right, mostly it was just locals entertaining themselves by scaring kids and out-of-towners, there surely weren’t that many who really believed any of it, but it was hard, standing here in the middle of nowhere on this run-down porch, not to think of that crazy farmer he’d had to ask for directions. The man had warned him, with every appearance of dead seriousness, that Stanford Pines was a witch and that the last guy the farmer knew of who’d come to town looking for him had vanished into this house for months before he’d suddenly staggered into the village on a market day, tearing his own hair out in clumps and screaming at people about eyes and the Devil….

“Fine,” Pines said finally, brusquely, and he closed the door. There was a rattle as chains were undone, and after a slightly disturbing amount of that, the door opened to disclose a slightly bizarre figure: a tired-looking man, probably somewhere between thirty and forty, with a hairstyle - too tall at the top and too long in the back - which didn’t suit him at all and with clothes that didn’t quite fit him properly. Or at least the coat he wore even though he was indoors didn’t quite fit him properly: it was far too tight across the shoulders and, consequently, too short at the wrists. He blinked uncertainly at Officer Clutterbuck from behind a big, sort of old-fashioned pair of glasses - had the bit of his face visible before he’d opened the door had glasses on it? For a moment, Officer Clutterbuck thought that surely it hadn’t, but he shrugged the idea off. The interior seemed even gloomier than it was outside, and the door had barely been opened enough to show him anything, anyway.

“Sorry about that,” Pines said, in a tone which somehow made an apology sound almost rude. “Thought you might be that lunatic hillbilly who…What about my brother?” His expression became strangely fixed for a moment before he continued with. “Uh - I mean - “ And then his voice shifted slightly before he finally, rather stiffly, concluded with, “I assume you’re talking about Stanley?”

Officer Clutterbuck swallowed hard, trying to remember how he’d been told to play this. “Uh - can we step inside and sit down, sir?”

Pines scowled at him, and the general gossip, more common than the witchcraft allegation, about him being a mad scientist who was trying to raise Frankenstein out here floated to mind again. “Let me guess,” he growled. “You've found him, but you’ve still got no idea where my car is?”

Officer Clutterbuck swallowed hard again. “Please, sir,” he half-pleased. “I really think we should sit….”

“Oh,” said Pines. “So he’s dead, then.”

Officer Clutterbuck froze, unsure how he was supposed to respond to that - it hadn’t been in the script, the idea that Pines would just guess on his own! He’d been warned that the dead Pines having stolen the living one’s car might well fail to prevent the man from going into shock or denial - according to the guideline sheet, the reason he wasn’t supposed to say anything until they were seated was because it wasn’t unheard of for relatives to faint dead away and knock their heads open! They weren't supposed to just bluntly guess like that!

“Fine,” Pines repeated, sounding more annoyed than shocked or grieved by the unspoken confirmation of his guess. He turned and started shuffling down the poorly-lit hallway behind him. “Close that behind you!” he shouted over his shoulder, which Officer Clutterbuck supposed was the closest thing he was going to get to an invitation.

The inside of the house was not a place Officer Clutterbuck would have liked to spend a dark night. The hallway, it turned out, was not gloomy because there was no means of producing light: it was gloomy because the lightbulb seemed to have been broken. If the amount of dust on the pieces still clinging to the fixture was anything to go by, it had also been broken for a while. It was still obvious, though, that the umbrella stand by the door had a number of weapons propped up inside it instead of umbrellas. When he glanced into what he assumed was supposed to be the sitting room, he saw, instead of furniture, a huge skull of…something…and piles upon piles of mixed junk. Most of it seemed to be books or papers, but there were also, under yet more thick palls of dust, strange apparatuses the likes of which Officer Clutterbuck had never seen: glass and metal tubes and spheres, things that looked like they were either meant for taking measurements or cutting off appendages, dead and dying plants, unrecognizable charts and graphs, a glowing machine that almost looked like it was from an arcade, except it wasn’t…

“Stuff for future exhibits,” Pines’ voice said, suddenly too close to and immediately behind him. Officer Clutterbuck nearly fell over in surprise. “Come back in two weeks and give me twenty dollars and you can see ‘em then, once I’ve sorted them out better.”

This admonishment administered, he led Officer Clutterbuck past a room that looked surprisingly clean, well-lit, and organized - presumably a part of the lab he gave tours of - and into a tiny kitchen, which was at least cleaner than the hallway had been or the sitting room had looked. There were only two chairs, which matched neither each other nor the table. Pines pulled two mugs, also mismatched, from a cabinet and put them on the table before he added a coffee pot to the mix and sat down.

“Coffee?” he offered, extending the pot toward Officer Clutterbuck, who shook his head uncertainly. “You care if I have mine?” Officer Clutterbuck shook his head again. Pines poured coffee into the big enamel camping mug and then sat back to drink it, his eyes never leaving the younger man in the other chair. Officer Clutterbuck, unnerved by the direct stare, felt his eyes skitter away nervously, and they landed on the second, rejected mug - a smaller affair of chipped porcelain which wished someone a happy Father’s Day.

“Do - uh - do you have children, Mr. Pines?” he asked, hoping that the answer didn’t involve kids being brought up in this place.

“Not that I know about. Pretty sure that’s not what you’re here to ask about, too.”

“Er - no, sir,” Officer Clutterbuck. He took a deep breath, wishing Pines’ expression was even slightly less inscrutable as he drank his coffee and looked out through the shield of his glasses. “I’m sorry to have to inform you, sir, but - what you said before is…mostly true.” No response. “We did find your car - though I’m afraid it’s completely totaled - but your brother Stanley has…he’s passed away.”

“First thing that idiot ever passed without cheating, I guess,” said Pines. He frowned and added, “why do people call it that, anyway? You’d think that dying was a NASCAR race, and that he pulled ahead in the final lap to get first place or something. Just say someone’s dead if that’s what you mean.”

“Uh - sorry, sir,” said Officer Clutterbuck, utterly miserable and unsure if this was the correct response. “If you prefer, sir, then - yes. He’s dead.”

Pines didn’t look surprised. He just nodded and then added, “I assume that’s also why my car’s totaled?”

Was this what shock looked like? The guidelines hadn’t really done a very good job of explaining what that was supposed to be, if it took forms other than fainting. The television shows which had inspired Officer Clutterbuck to join the force made him think there were other ways it could present, but…

“Yes,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m afraid he, uh, seems to have died in a car crash, and that the crashed car seems to have been, uh, the one he stole from you.”

“Then I guess I’ll keep the Stanmobile. Heh, he might not know it, but I’m coming out ahead of him in this deal - that car was a piece of junk, it barely ran. I, uh, haven’t gotten out much lately,” Pines added. “For a while now.”

“Oh,” said Officer Clutterbuck. He took out his little notepad. “Had, uh, had Stanley visited you recently? Before stealing your car?”

Pines shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t know why Stanley was in Oregon, but it definitely wasn’t to visit me. Hadn’t seen him in years. I don’t know how he even found out I was here, but I assume his original plan was to ask for money.” He scowled at nothing. “He never was anything except a screwup riding my coattails when we were kids," he added, his face hard and his voice harsh, without any noticeable emotion other than anger. "Which is why I'm guessing he was nothing at all after Dad threw him out. Nobody’s going to miss him, I can promise you that.”

“I…can’t comment on that, sir,” Officer Clutterbuck said carefully. “But it’s possible someone’s…actually happy about his death? Or - maybe unhappy that it wasn’t yours.”

That got Pines’ attention. “Huh?” he asked.

“It’s - “ there wasn’t a script for telling someone his brother had not only died but had possibly burned to death. Could he avoid doing so? “You see, Mr. Pines, the thing is…the brakes of the car were cut. That’s what we assume made Stanley lose control of the car. The thing we can’t determine is exactly when the brakes were cut - and so….”

“You can't determine whether somebody was out to get him or out to get me,” Pines concluded. “Huh. Well, it did take you folks a couple of days to find him. Probably happened at whatever fleabag motel he was crashing in - uh, no pun intended.” Pines took another swallow of his coffee. “Explains why he stole my car and left me his, too, I guess - he was trying to throw someone off his trail, and not doing a good job.”

“Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt you? Just in case?”

Pines went very still. “What makes you think I could?”

“It’s, uh, it’s just a routine question….”

His attempt to mollify Pines didn’t seem to work. The man stood in his agitation, backing toward the sink. “Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he snapped. “About me, about my brother, about any of this - but I mind my own business, okay? I stay here, I do my science, I give tours to idiots for extra money, and that’s it! I don’t know what Stanley was into, and I don’t want to know, so I can’t help you, you hear me? So it’s time for you to go.”

“Sir - “

“Did I stutter? Unless you’re a paying tourist, I want you out of my house!”

There was a strange look in Pines’ eyes - almost wild, definitely not...okay, not okay in the head. Officer Clutterbuck decided that since he was not one of the people who had all the luck, he really would be well-advised to consider discretion the better part of valor. He fled and didn’t stop feeling glad to have gotten out alive until he was several miles away.

Back at the station, he found himself accosted by a reporter. “I understand you’ve been assigned to investigate the car crash out on Highway 618,” the reporter said. “There are rumors that there may have been foul play. Can you comment on that?”

Officer Clutterbuck reflected for a moment on his disturbing encounter with the man’s brother and shrugged helplessly. “It…does look mighty suspicious,” he said finally, concluding that, at least, was definitely true. “Mighty suspicious.”

#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #stanuary #stanuary 2023 #week 1 - mystery #set in the early eighties #the difficulty of faking one's own death

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azemessence · 1 year

Note

“ we both know i’m not walking out of this one. it’s okay, alright? it’s okay… just… do me a favor, will you? will you make them pay for this? i don’t care how. but… don’t let them get away with it. “ 💕💕💕

Thank you~! Prompt list.

It always comes back in flashes.

It starts as an ache behind Avery Starseer's eyes, then a tumbling, woozy feeling. The first year or so, it was mild, the occasional déjà vu coming and going like the swinging of a pendulum. But then it got worse. They found themself waking up in the sand seemingly passed out at higher and higher frequency. They sought help from the elders of the village that rescued them, but all they could assume was heat stroke. Their lode lightened during the day, but the only consequence was falling on stone instead of sand.

This time, however, they didn't wake up under the sky of Thanalan. No, the stars were all wrong. They spent enough time staring at them, mentally charting them, to know they were wrong.

Avery groans, rolling over onto their side, but it's not sand or stone beneath them, but ash.

"Avery!" Someone shouts, not far from them. A girl, her voice sounds ragged and raw, desperate, and fading fast. Regardless of who she is, she needs help. That much is clear.

Their vision swims, searching through the flames and wreckage for the source of the voice. Instinctively, their hand reaches towards their head, only to come away sticky with blood. That would explain the headache. Had they lost years of their life again? No, no this was unfamiliar, they were helping in the quarry not a minute ago. They remembered that, and clung to it even as their eyes scanned over the battlefield long dead around them.

"Avery!" The cry sounds again, the same intonation, as if an echo from a cave. But that couldn't be right, it was close by, and they were in open air.

Eventually, their eyes land on the outstretched hand in the distance. Its fingers are bloody, crooked like they'd been broken. Even still, they shakily hold themselves up, like a cry for help. For rescue.

"I'm coming!" Avery shouts back, their throat feeling like the ash that surrounds them, "hold on, I'm coming!"

Crawling past jagged debris, a sharp pain in their leg keeps them grounded. Around a sharp piece of some sort of technological ruin, they find her body.

Half trapped under a shard of rubble, she reaches out towards Avery as they get close. She's Hyur, black hair stuck to her rapidly paling forehead by blood. Her eyes are blue, her chest rising and falling softly with each ragged breath. Even looking right at her however, they can't make sense of her features. She looks like... No one, like they were staring into the sun.

"...I'm here." Avery mumbles, eyes scanning over the wreckage pinning the girl down.

"Avery!" The same shout, distant, despite the fact they can see her shout it right next to her.

"I'm here!" They repeat, grabbing hold of her broken fingers. She swallows, and seems to meet their eyes. She takes a shaking breath, face slowly distorting into tears.

"Survive..." She whispers. Avery's eyes go wide, clinging to her fingers. They don't know why, but they know that the fingers are numb. The girl swallows with difficulty, an action Avery mimics.

"Avery... We both know I’m not walking out of this one," she says, the words spilling from Avery's mouth, "It’s okay, alright? It’s okay."

It's not okay. This is wrong, this is all wrong.

"Just… do me a favor, will you? I don’t care how, but… Don’t let them get away with it. Make the Garleans pay." Their voices echo together as Avery recites the words back to her in time, like they knew they were coming. Like they had said them to start with.

"My my, aren't we tired today?" The voice comes from the girl beneath them, but it is familiar, a man's voice. "Come on then, Starseer, wake up."

"Thancred...?" Avery whispers, opening their eyes to the white-haired Hyur smiling down at them, surrounded by a white glow of the Thanalan sun.

"Who else?" He holds out a hand and helps them up, dusting the sand off their shoulders. "They were worried sick about you, you know. You hadn't come back, and asked me to keep an eye out when I passed through."

He tilts his head as Avery raised a hand to their own forehead, closing their eyes and groaning in pain.

"Come on," He slings an arm over their shoulder, "let's get you home. I think some rest and water would do you some good."

#:)#oc: Avery Starseer #asked and answered #ft. where avery got their name!!#sorry if this is confusing. echo visions where you watch yourself die are uh. FUN! recalling yourself begging a friend to survive only for #YOU to be the one that survived and accidentally taking on their name LMAO because it's the only thing you really remember because you #were calling out to them as the blast hit you #also ft. a thancred that had been watching avery since before they came to thanalan out of concern and vague recollection of #''person... important? protect person.''#thanks hydaelyn

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no6secretsanta · 1 year

Text

The Things We Do For Love

To: signpainter1 (ao3)

From: @glorifiedscapegoatpegoat

Happy Holidays, signpainter! I really hope you enjoy this! Your prompt was really fun, and I was excited to work on this! It's been a bit since I've written anything, so I really hope I did it justice and that it brings a smile to your face!

~ 0 ~

Nezumi watched Shion slowly reached under the tree at Karan’s bakery. Anxiety zipped through him, a pool of discomfort in the pit of his stomach. Ever since they’d woken that morning, Nezumi had been on edge. The tips of his fingers felt numb and cold, his heart thumping in his chest and echoing in his ears.

He had no real reason to be nervous. He’d spent enough Christmases with Shion to know that anything Nezumi gives him is a certified home run. Hell, two Christmases ago, Nezumi couldn’t come up with anything suitable and simply drew a picture of an aster on a napkin from his dressing room at the theater where he worked and gave Shion that. Inukashi had mocked him mercilessly, but that same drawing had been pinned with honor above Shion’s desk at the Restructural Committee.

Karan sat on the other side of the room, a soft smile on her face. As Shion drew a small box out from beneath the tree, Nezumi saw her eyes dart to him. She’d helped him wrap the gift late last night; it’d been nestled comfortably in a box by then, and Nezumi knew she was curious about its contents. She’d helped demonstrate how to wrap the paper neatly, plopping a soft green paper bow on top.

The gift looked, at least on the outside, perfectly suitable. Nezumi’s heart clenched as Shion’s soft crimson eyes lit up. He looked over the small tag, announcing that it was to ‘His Majesty’ from Nezumi.

“Oh,” Shion said, sounding just a bit surprised.

Nezumi couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t known for exceptional gift-giving. Usually, Nezumi gave gifts in the form of acts of service. Small acts of PDA in public, which Shion enjoyed, or assisting in an arduous task. Time spent together rather than material items. Shion had come to expect such things from Nezumi, and so, the sight of a physical present, in a medium-sized box, no less, was an unanticipated surprise.

Nezumi fought back a smile. His blood buzzed as Shion’s fingers slid over the paper. This was the moment he’d been anticipating. He’d crafted scenario after scenario in his head, playing them over and over again as he’d drifted to sleep. He hoped reality was even a fraction as good as his imagination. If Shion appreciated the gift even a little bit, then it would all be worth it.

The world seemed to slow down as Shion quickly undid the wrapping paper. Shion had a methodical way of unwrapping things; ordinarily, Nezumi found it endearing, the way Shion tried to take care of everything he opened and avoid unnecessary wreckage. Today, however, he wished Shion would go feral and rip the paper to shreds. The brief entertainment would definitely be worth it.

After what felt like an eternity, Shion set the wrapping paper aside. He’d folded it into a neat square, placing the green bow on top. Nezumi’s fingers curled into a sweaty fist as he watched Shion turn the blank box over, gently.

The contents of the box rattled inside, and Nezumi’s stomach dropped. He hoped it hadn’t broken. He hadn’t really inspected it since he’d acquired it; he kicked himself. How could he have been that stupid?

“I wonder what’s inside,” Karan mused, tapping her finger to her lips. She gave Nezumi a knowing look, and Nezumi returned it, despite knowing that Karan was just as curious as her son. Perhaps she was anticipating something much smaller than the actual contents, something thin and silver. That would come much later, however, and Nezumi hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed.

Shion thumbed the tape on the side of the box and gingerly peeled it aside. He plucked the cover of the box open, and Nezumi’s vision tunneled until all he could see was Shion reaching into the box and withdrawing the contents.

It was about the length of Nezumi’s forearm—average, he supposed. The body was thin and curved, painted a deep shade of glossy black that caught in the morning sunlight. The flared base held a pair of gentle paws, and the rest of the body morphed into the shape of a sleek cat that disappeared into the wide lamp shade. Its little head, ears and whiskers and soft green eyes, peeked out from the top. The shade itself was crafted of dark pink cheetah print, speckled about with paler pinks and a few splotches of white.

The shade threw the whole thing off. The lamp would have been cute, Nezumi assumed, if the shade itself didn’t look so garishly out of place. The cat’s tail curled around the base and fed into where the cord would extend into the wall. Nezumi hadn’t seen the thing lit up, but he assumed it would cast a weird pink glow everywhere.

Karan’s expression flickered, but only for a second. She plastered a supportive smile on her lips and said, “O-oh, how cute. It’s a—”

“It’s the lamp!” Shion shouted, and the sheer joy in his voice banished the anxiety that’d gripped Nezumi for the past three days.

Karan seemed surprised by the excitement in Shion’s voice, but Nezumi just smiled. He laughed as Shion carefully set the lamp to the side, out of the way, and scrambled across the floor to drag Nezumi into a tight hug.

“Oh, my God, you found it!” Shion gushed, climbing into Nezumi’s lap. Nezumi shifted his legs and held him close, body buzzing with pride. “How? It—it was sold out! We went back to get it, remember? You couldn’t have bought it before then! You were with me the whole time!”

“I know,” Nezumi replied.

“Then how? Did you get Inukashi to get it for you?”

Nezumi shook his head.

“Rikiga?”

“Nope.”

Karan looked at the lamp and cocked her head. “You must have really wanted this lamp. It’s certainly… unique.”

“How did you get it, Nezumi? Tell me!”

Nezumi smiled and pressed a quick kiss to Shion’s forehead. “Never mind that. I’m glad you like it. All you need to know is that it wasn’t difficult to get.”

But, what Shion didn’t know and what Nezumi would never tell him was that it had been extremely difficult to get.

~ 0 ~

Three Days Ago…

“This doesn’t seem a bit excessive to you?” Inukashi asked.

Nezumi resisted the urge to shrug. It did feel a bit excessive, he supposed, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Whenever his resolve began to waver, he remembered the joy on Shion’s face when he’d found that stupid cat lamp in the thrift store, and the devastation when he’d dragged Nezumi out the next day to actually purchase it and found it had already been sold.

It was early in the evening, and Nezumi stood outside a squat brick building with Inukashi in tow. The building, at one time, had been a brothel, Nezumi knew. After things shifted and the Restructural Committee began making positive changes to the world around them, the brothel transformed into a restaurant. Nezumi had never been inside, but he’d heard stories.

Since the fall of No.6’s wall, Nezumi hadn’t asked Inukashi for any favors. Six long years of treating his former informant as an acquaintance and, if he were to accept Shion’s thoughts on the matter, friend, without expecting anything in return. It felt strange to reach out to Inukashi and ask for assistance, and even stranger to see how quickly Inukashi slipped back into it.

Perhaps they, too, struggled a bit with quelling that itch, that drive deep inside them that desired a return to the old days. Though things were notably better now, Nezumi couldn’t deny that old habits were hard to break. Sometimes he found himself dreaming of the freedom of the open road, the thrill of bartering and the poisonous kiss of living each day with the fear of death on the back of his tongue. He’d spent most of his life on the streets. It was difficult to simply dismiss.

“Excessive, maybe,” Nezumi replied. He left it at that, because before he could say anything else, the door to the back alley swung open and a tall, thin man in his early twenties stepped outside.

“You’re late,” Inukashi snapped, straightening their spine. They’d dressed in a black long sleeved shirt and a pair of simple slacks, but it was still strange to see them with shoes on. Nezumi knew it was only because they were planning to go inside the restaurant for Nezumi’s plan to work, but it was still odd.

“Yeah, sorry about that, man,” the man said. He shoved his hair out of his face. Sweat trickled down his face, and Nezumi’s stomach tightened. “Got busy. Things’ve been nuts in there tonight.” He paused, then reached out to shake Inukashi’s hand. “By the way, name’s Keita. Nice to meet ya.”

Inukashi waved their hand, and Keita dropped his. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Did you bring the thing?”

“‘Course.” Keita opened the back alley door leading into the restaurant. He reached inside and withdrew something large and gray from within. He plopped it out into the alley, and Nezumi suppressed a shudder.

It was uglier in person than Nezumi had imagined. He’d never been a fan of mascots, not even a little bit, but seeing them up close was much different than spotting them at a distance. The suit itself looked rundown and cheap, the eyes much larger and soulless than the pictures painted on the front of the restaurant. Why someone would choose a rodent as the mascot of a restaurant, Nezumi couldn’t guess. The irony wasn’t lost on him, however. He shouldn’t have inspected anything less from a restaurant that bore the name Bojangles’ House of Cheese.

Inukashi made a sound behind him that might have been a laugh. “Oh, my God,” they muttered. “I wish I’d brought a camera.”

“I’d kill you if you did,” Nezumi snapped back.

“Of course you would.”

“This here’s Bojangles,” Keita explained. “The rat himself.” He patted the mascot costume on the head. “Just finished the first performance, so there’s another one scheduled in about twenty-five minutes. You got the script I sent when you first contacted me, right?”

“Child’s play,” Nezumi said. It had been. The performances at Bojangles’ House of Cheese lasted only five minutes at a time, and there wasn’t much choreography involved. The script was minimal, at best, and Nezumi memorized it in a matter of hours.

“All right, all right. Love that for you, dude.” Keita smiled.

Nezumi swallowed back a frustrated groan. When he’d first tracked down the cat lamp from the information the owner of the thrift shop had given him, he’d hoped it would be easier than this. The man who played the mascot at Bojangles’ House of Cheese, Takanawa Keita, was easy enough to locate; however, to Nezumi’s chagrin, Keita had already given the lamp away as a gift to his boss, the current general manager of the restaurant. As far as he knew, his boss had the lamp in her office.

Bribing Keita into giving up his costume for an hour maximum hadn’t taken nearly as much effort as Nezumi expected. A few extra dollars and the promise of some green leaf, procured and provided by Rikiga, were more than enough to get the mascot’s actor to surrender his performance schedule and access to his costume, as well as entrance to the backstage of the restaurant through the back alley.

“The boss should be in her office,” Keita explained. “After the show, no one’ll think it’s weird if they see you going back there. She usually wants to talk about the guests, anyway.”

Nezumi exhaled. He’d run through the mascot’s schedule multiple times. He’d been just a bit surprised by how thorough the notes had been. When he’d first interacted with Keita, intelligence hadn’t been one of the traits he’d attribute to the man. But the notes depicted a thorough detailing of the mascot’s routines before and after the show, and Nezumi had no doubt that he’d be able to nail it.

“Here, dude,” said Keita, nudging the costume toward Nezumi. “He’s all yours.”

Nezumi cringed and picked the mascot’s cranium off the ground. It was… lighter than he’d anticipated, the fabric beneath his fingertips soft and plush. The costume looked ratty from a distance, and certainly no better up close, but the material appeared to be in decent enough condition.

“Really wishing I’d brought that camera,” Inukashi chortled, and Nezumi glared as he pulled the costume over his head.

Inside, it was much worse than he’d anticipated. Claustrophobic and reeking of sweat, the costume’s massive head obscured Nezumi’s vision behind a wall of black mesh. He could barely see through it, and the thought of being confined in something like this from head to toe made his blood chill.

It’s for Shion, he told himself as he plucked the body of the costume off the ground and stepped into it. He slid it up his shoulders, wincing at the warmth trapped inside and the damp sensation of sweat. It’s for Shion.

Through the black mesh, Nezumi could see Inukashi biting back laughter. The mascot stood beside them, an idle smile on his face. From the smell inside the costume, Nezumi concluded that he hadn’t been smoking anything recently, but definitely partook on more than a few occasions. No wonder, he’d been easy enough to bribe with the promise of some green leaf.

Once the whole costume was in place, Nezumi took a moment to catch his breath. It was difficult, the inside of the costume blisteringly warm and unpleasant smelling. Nezumi had spent years of his life in West Block, however, and considered himself a master of turning off his senses and compartmentalizing. He had a mission to complete—and Shion was worth the discomfort of the situation. If Nezumi had to humiliate himself a bit to get that overjoyed smile to return to Shion’s face, he would do it.

“Lookin’ good, man,” Keita drawled, and Inukashi couldn’t hold it back anymore.

They doubled over and laughed, harder than Nezumi had ever seen them. Nezumi watched, unimpressed, as Inukashi scrubbed their eyes and grasped their stomach.

“Are you finished?” Nezumi grunted, after a few moments. “We are on a time limit.”

“Yeah—yeah, hold on.” Inukashi coughed, wiping tears from the corners of their eyes. “OK, OK, I’m good.” They looked up at Nezumi and gave him a malicious grin. “You look ridiculous.”

“Shut up.” Nezumi’s face burned, and he was grateful that the mascot costume’s head covered his face completely. Inukashi would never let him live it down if they saw him blushing.

The whole situation was mortifying—but Nezumi swallowed his pride and endured it. It was only for half an hour, at most, and Shion was worth it.

“You know the plan, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, I know it,” Inukashi replied. They’d managed to pull themself together, though they still sported a vicious smile on their face. “See you inside, Bojangles.”

Nezumi narrowed his eyes, but the action went unnoticed. With another snicker, Inukashi left the alley and rounded the corner. The restaurant wasn’t nearly as busy as they’d expected it to be, but Nezumi didn’t mind. The less people around to witness this ridiculous charade, the better.

“All right, man, showtime.” Keita leaned back against the wall and drew a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it up, took a long drag, and exhaled a smoke ring above his head. “Taking a thirty minute paid break. Merry Christmas to me. Just make sure you keep Bojangles in one piece, yeah?”

“Sure,” Nezumi ground out.

“Cool.”

Nezumi suppressed a groan and ducked out of the alley and into the restaurant’s back stage. The heavy door slammed shut behind him, and the stench of burnt cheese and pizza dough slapped him in the face.

Between the scents inside the mascot uniform and the restaurant’s interior as a whole, Nezumi was beginning to feel a bit sick to his stomach. He quickly shoved the part of his mind that wanted to gag into the backseat. There’d be time to be disgusted after this whole thing was said and done.

For now, Nezumi had a mission to complete.

Memorizing the layout of the restaurant’s backstage hadn’t taken Nezumi more than an hour tops, and in less than two minutes, he found himself huddled backstage with a handful of costumed mascots all primed and ready for their routine performance. Despite the restaurant’s rat and cheese theme, Nezumi spotted a handful of mismatched mascots that he suspected were just gathered to keep children entertained.

A bright pink duck with false eyelashes and a frilly skirt looked over at him as he came into place. Quacksie, Bojangles’ best friend and the second most important mascot in the lineup. Keita had made sure he understood that. Quacksie might be all sunshine and rainbows, but the girl beneath the mask, Emiko, could be a real bitch when things didn’t go her way.

“You’re late, jackass,” Quacksie muttered.

“Uh, yeah,” Nezumi replied, doing his best to mimic Keita’s unbothered drawl. “Sorry about that.”

“Whatever. Just don’t fuck this up.”

Nezumi rolled his eyes. How could anyone mess up such a basic routine? Say a few lines, jump around like a lunatic, say a few more lines, then dip offstage. The whole thing seemed asinine, at best, but Nezumi wasn’t about to question the interests of children. The mascots were designed to keep them occupied while their parents drank beer and thought about something other than overdue bills and upcoming school events.

From the stage, the ancient PA system gave a loud squealing sound. A rusty voice, prerecorded, burst forth and announced, “Let’s give it up for our furry friends: Bojangles and the Skipperoos!”

An explosion of claps erupted from the audience. The curtain began to rise, but before Nezumi could step out, another of the mismatched mascots, a blue fox named Bluebell, slid forward and whispered to him and Quacksie, “Hey, uh, Aya’s not feeling good. She said she’s taking off for the night.”

“Shit,” Quacksie muttered. “Well, whatever. Let’s just do Show #3. We can manage that one without her.”

“Wait, what?” Nezumi asked, but Quacksie put her hand on the small of his back and shoved him out onto the stage ahead of her.

Wait—wait, no. This was not how this was supposed to go. Keita had never mentioned there being other shows. There was a schedule! Keita had only given him the script and choreography for this performance.

Panic spiked down his back as he took his place in the center of the stage. At his right, Quacksie took her place, and on his left, Bluebell positioned herself. Off to the far right, a green pigeon in an orange sundress stood, and where a dark purple bunny should have been standing was an empty space.

Shit, Nezumi thought. Shit, shit, shit.

He looked up desperately into the crowd. It took a little while, but then, relief flooded him as he spotted Inukashi perched at one of the tables in the back. They’d already ordered something to drink, from the looks of the glass on their table, and through the haze of cheap stage lights, Nezumi could just barely make out the shit-eating grin on their face as they beheld him standing at the head of the stage. Nezumi was never going to live this down.

It’s for Shion, he reminded himself. I’m doing all this for Shion.

“Hey, idiot,” Quacksie muttered, so softly Nezumi was sure the crowd couldn’t hear. “What are you doing? It’s your line!”

“Right—right.” Nezumi swallowed the lump in his throat. This was it. Time to make a complete ass of himself. Slipping into actor mode, Nezumi lifted his head, peered out through the black mesh, and called out in his best impression of Keita’s Bojangles voice: “Hey, there, folks! How we feeling?”

“Good!” the crowd called back.

“I can’t hear you,” Nezumi crowed.

“Good!”

“All right, all right!” Nezumi clapped his hands and looked out over the crowd. There were a fair amount of adults with their children in tow, some looking bored and more than a few looking to be battling with the effects of too-much soda and candy. “My name’s Bojangles, and we’ve got a wonderful show for you tonight! Ready, Quacksie!”

“Ready, Bojangles!” Quacksie replied, her voice high-pitched and cheery.

“Ready, Bluebell!”

“Ready, Bojangles!” the blue fox called.

“Ready, Pidge!”

“Ready, Bojangles!” replied the green pigeon.

“Here we go!” Nezumi yelled, embarrassment welling up inside him. At least this would be over soon.

The music swelled, and Nezumi stepped to the left—and already, things were off to a bad start.

In the choreography Keita had given him, Bojangles was meant to step to the left along with Quacksie and Bluebell, while the other two mascots stepped to the right. But Show #3’s choreography must have been different, because Quacksie stepped to the right, and Bluebell crashed into him.

“Ow!” Bluebell muttered. “Keita, what are you doing?”

Fuck! “Sorry,” Nezumi whispered, but Bluebell was stepping back in time with the music, and Quacksie bumped into his back.

“The hell are you doing?” Quacksie snapped under her breath, buried beneath the loud thumping music that blared through the speakers.

Nezumi whirled around, trying to see through the black mesh of the mascot costume. The other three mascots were sliding and twirling in different spots around the stage, and none of it matched the choreography Keita had given him for the performance. How could the whole thing be so drastically different just because one mascot couldn’t be on stage?

As a seasoned actor, Nezumi considered himself to be exceptional at reading a room and adjusting his performance to improv if the situation demanded it. But this? This was something nightmarishly different than what Nezumi had ever experienced. The mascot costume was clunky and warm, and moving around in it proved to be difficult, especially when he couldn’t anticipate where the other mascots in their clunky suits would be moving around the stage.

OK, the hell with this. Nezumi turned to face the crowd and lifted his hand. He’d made sure that Inukashi understood the signal, should anything go awry—Nezumi would draw a big ‘N’ in the air, hopefully misinterpreted by the crowd as just a simple wave or part of the choreography, and Inukashi would begin phase two of their plan.

Nezumi dropped his arm and drew a large ‘N’ in the air, aimed right at Inukashi. Through the black mesh, squinting through the stage lights, he could see—

Inukashi wasn’t looking at him.

They were currently nose-deep in the menu, looking over the cheap arrangements of salads, soups, and kid-sized pizzas. They didn’t look up at the stage, and instead began talking to the waiter that sauntered over to check if they were ready to place an order.

FUCK. Quacksie slid to the right, and Nezumi, who hadn’t moved, felt her smash into him. He stumbled forward, righting himself, and ignored her indignant griping. Inukashi, you jackass! Pay attention!

He aggressively drew another ‘N’ in the air, thumping his foot on the stage and hoping that the sounds would cause Inukashi to lift their head and look. It didn’t. They continued to pour over the menu, their lips moving as they asked the waiter a question. Nezumi didn’t think anything would be more interesting to them than Nezumi degrading himself on a stage in front of a bunch of kids, but hunger and access to some form of income seemed to outweigh everything else in their mind.

Inukashi! Nezumi stomped his foot on the stage again, desperation and rage warring for dominance inside him. Inukashi, you asshole—

Bluebell slid across the stage, a little too hard, and collided with Nezumi. The sudden strike caused Nezumi to stumble, and the weight of the mascot suit sent him crashing to the ground. He flailed, and Quacksie slid into his path. Nezumi crashed into her, and the momentum sent her to the ground as well.

The two of them landed in a heap with a loud crash; the crowd gasped, and Inukashi finally lifted their head and looked at the stage.

“You asshole—,” Quacksie snarled, struggling to get out from underneath Nezumi. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Nezumi ignored her. He gestured desperately at Inukashi, drawing an ‘N’ over and over again in the air. Phase two. Phase two. Phase two, you fucking asshole!

Inukashi’s shoulders relaxed, and Nezumi felt a wave of relief as they closed the menu in their hands. They looked at the waiter standing beside them, looked at the stage, and then threw themselves out of their seat.

They caught the waiter around the waist and the two of them went crashing to the ground. The tables around them erupted with activity—Inukashi apologized profusely, making up a story that they’d been feeling dizzy and must have collapsed, and the others around them turning to catch sight of whatever drama was unfurling around them.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Nezumi rolled out from underneath Quacksie and off the stage.

“Where are you going?” Quacksie shouted, no longer caring if the crowd heard her. Between the loud music and the commotion from Inukashi’s table in the back, Nezumi didn’t think anyone would hear her anyway.

“Bathroom break!” Nezumi shouted back, and before Quacksie could say anything else, he took off in the direction of the manager’s office.

A few children cried out “Bojangles!” as he raced by, but Nezumi ignored them and hurried down the small alcove leading to the general manager’s main office. The sounds of shouting echoed behind him, but Nezumi ignored all of it. His body buzzed and burned with adrenaline, humiliation twisting through him like a snake.

He’d suffered endless indignities throughout his life, endless embarrassments in the name of securing a place to sleep or food to eat. Anything to ensure that he’d live to see another day. But this—this was the first time he’d ever willingly gone into something so deranged simply to make someone else happy.

Shion wasn’t in danger. Not getting that stupid cat lamp wouldn’t kill him. No one he cared for was trapped in a prison or on the verge of death. Nezumi didn’t have to do any of this.

But Shion—Shion was worth so much. Nezumi could never repay Shion for all the love he’d shown him throughout the years. From the moment they’d first met as children, Shion had decided that Nezumi was someone worth saving. When others would have sent him to the Correctional Facility without hesitation, Shion had bandaged his wounds, fed him, gave him someplace warm and safe to sleep. It’d been the first good night’s sleep Nezumi had experienced in years. Even now, almost a decade later, Nezumi could still remember the feeling of Shion’s warm body beneath his, the comforting hug Shion had given him and the pleasant aroma of hot chocolate that permeated the air around them deep into the morning.

I would do anything for him, Nezumi thought, and he knew he meant it. He’d walked into hell, into certain death, for Shion once before. Shion had done the same for him countless times, with no expectations and no alternative agendas. Shion loved him, and Nezumi would do anything to make him happy.

Squaring his shoulders, Nezumi reached the general manager’s office. He didn’t bother knocking; he shouldered the door open, swallowing his pride, and stormed inside.

Prior to the restaurant’s opening, the general manager’s office must have been a storage closet or something equally as small. The room didn’t hold much, and inside was a small, worn desk, a few file cabinets, and the ugliest green carpet Nezumi had ever seen in his life.

Behind the desk, a woman in her mid forties sat. She, like most things in the restaurant, looked mismatched and out of place. Despite the casual theme of the restaurant, she wore a plum pantsuit and a crisp black button up beneath. Her blond hair, dyed and showing just a few strands of gray at the temples, was drawn back in a tight bun at the back of her skull. She looked stern, her mouth twisted in a surprised frown when Nezumi opened the door and closed it behind him.

“Keita?” The general manager narrowed her blue eyes at him. A thin rim of brown rested around her irises—colored contacts, Nezumi guessed. He’d seen enough people wearing them in his travels to recognize that it had become a popular fashion trend in the past few years. “What are you doing back here? You’re supposed to be performing.”

“There’s been a change in schedule, actually,” Nezumi said, not bothering to disguise his voice.

The general manager sat back in her swivel chair. She looked momentarily frightened, but kept her voice steady as she asked, “You’re… not Keita, are you?”

Nezumi shook his head slowly.

“Where is he?”

“He’s safe,” Nezumi replied. He didn’t think it necessary to mention that Keita was probably outside in the back alley, taking a nap. He seemed like the type.

The general manager didn’t seem comforted by his words, but if she was worried about Keita’s well-being, she did a decent job of concealing it. Nezumi briefly wondered who she was before the fall of No.6’s wall. She reminded him of one of the Security Bureau officers: cold and calculating, but timid beneath the harsh exterior.

“What is it you want?” the general manager asked. Her eyes flickered to the desk. “Our safe’s under my desk. I don’t want any trouble.”

“I’m not here for the safe.”

“Then what?” Her shoulders tightened, and her eyes went wide. “Oh, god. Are you with the Department of Labor? I already told you—I don’t know how those time cards were misplaced! You have no proof!”

Nezumi raised an eyebrow. “Time cards?”

“You people already tore my restaurant apart, and you couldn’t find anything! Did you think going undercover would yield different results?” The general manager kicked the leg of her desk. “Well, go ahead! Look! I’ve scrubbed everything clean! You can’t prove that I did anything illegal!” Her eyes, if possible, went even wider. “I mean—No! You didn’t hear that! I didn’t scrub anything clean because there isn’t anything to scrub! I’m not going back to jail! You’ll never take me alive!”

“What the—I’m not with the Department of Labor!” Nezumi snapped. “I’m here for the cat lamp!”

“…The what?”

“The cat lamp Keita gave you the other day.”

The general manager stared at Nezumi. She sat back at her desk, and in a moment, her calm façade was back in place. “You’re… here for the cat lamp.”

“Yes.”

"The one Keita gave me."

"Yes."

“You’re not with the Department of Labor.”

“I’m not.”

The general manager gave him a long, hard look. Nezumi shifted from one foot to the other. The mascot’s costume felt heavy, and he was already sweating. Ugh. There wasn’t a shower hot enough to wash this day off.

“All right,” the general manager said carefully. “I’ll give you the cat lamp. In exchange, you don’t tell the Department of Labor what you heard me say. Deal?”

“Deal,” Nezumi said. He didn’t have any interest in talking to the Department of Labor, and even if he did, they wouldn’t listen to him. They would listen to Shion, however, and Nezumi was pretty sure a little bird would find some way to let Shion know that something shady might be going on at Bojangles’ House of Cheese.

The general manager bustled to one of the file cabinets and plucked a box out of the top drawer. Nezumi’s heart sang as she crossed the room and handed it over to him. He took hold of it, cradling it in his palms like a precious gem. He could already see the excitement in Shion’s eyes, the pleasant smile stretching across his face.

“I think you’d better leave now,” the general manager said.

Nezumi didn’t bother answering. With his prize in tow, he left the office and hurried down the hallway.

The commotion had died down, and before Nezumi got too far, he shucked the Bojangles costume into the hallway and left it for Keita to find. He was dripping with sweat, but the buzz of elation in his body did an effective job of erasing the disgust. He’d gotten it. He’d managed to get Shion the perfect Christmas gift.

Sneaking out of the restaurant was a simple task, and in the alley on the opposite side of the building from where he’d entered, Nezumi found Inukashi waiting for him with a pizza box in hand. They raised an eyebrow at him as he approached, eyes darting to the box tucked under his arm.

“Whatever that is,” they said, “it must be pretty special if you’re willing to go through all that bullshit.”

Nezumi ignored them. It didn’t matter what they thought. Just the chance of being able to see that smile on Shion’s face again had made it all worth it. Inukashi didn’t understand. They would never understand the lengths Nezumi was willing to go to repay Shion for the years of love and acceptance he’d shown him. Inukashi would never understand the things Nezumi was willing to endure to show Shion that he loved him.

With his hard-earned prize tucked safely under his arm, drenched in sweat and feeling oddly accomplished, Nezumi hurried to Karan’s apartment. He had a gift to wrap.

The End

#submission #no6 #no 6 #no.6 #no. 6 #no6secretsanta #glorifiedscapegoat #signpainter1 #nezumi #shion #inukashi #nezushi #karan

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imagine4000 · 1 year

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Turtle Rush Part 9

Hey guys! Thanks for your support! Here’s the next chapter before the finale, so I hope you stick around to the end. Happy reading. Stay safe, healthy, and in good spirits!

. .

WHIIRRRR~

The latch opens up, letting Raph and Dahlia step out of the tank.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

“We’ll be fine, Leo. You just keep your twin away from committing murder.”

“Whaaa—nooo~. I was just going to have a friendly demonstration of why you shouldn’t mutualize, dismember, and/or humiliate the very existence of your enemies who dare mess with—”

SLAP!

“No! Bad Donnie, bad!”

SPRITZ–SPRITZ!

“Augh!”

“No plotting or evil scheming! Back in your corner!”

Raph and Dahlia sweat drop at Mikey spraying water at his brother as if scolding a cat. The duo then confronts the deer yokai.

“Miss Dahlia.”

“Artio.”

She scans the area.

“A forcefield...”

“You didn’t think I would waltz around in this mess unarmed, did you?”

Artio reaches into his pockets and takes out silver brooches.

“Protection charms?”

“This situation on the surface is bad for business below. So, Mr. Corvidian is offering a deal.”

“Where have I heard that before?”

“Raph, please...”

“These charms will repel the curse.”

“Let me guess,” Dahlia assumes, “you help us break the spell and stop those thieves. In return...”

“You promise to give yourself up.”

HONK—HONK!

[Fat chance, buck-o! Don’t try to angle the situation in your favor!]

D2k18 waves his fist towards Artio in anger while his voice booms through the speakers.

“Sorry, but that deal ain’t happenin’.”

“You won’t last ten seconds out there without getting possessed, big guy. You’ve witnessed firsthand, Dahlia...that curse is too great, even for you. Either you take the deal, or both our cities will perish.”

“If I agree?”

“Corvidian can care less if your friends try to rescue you. That’s how confident he is at getting his way.”

“Oh, we’ll be there to stop him,” Raph challenges, “you can bet on that.”

Artio reaches out, prompting Dahlia to shake his hand.

“When does it happen?”

“Who knows...it’s up to my boss when he feels like it. But know that you and I will meet on the outskirts of the Hidden City. Some day.”

“I understand. For now, you and Raph lead a team to getting that firestone.”

“What will you do?”

“I’ve got one more stop to make to even the odds.”

. .

>>>>>>>FAST FORWARD>>>>>>>

CREAKING~

Dahlia leads R/M2k3, D/L2k12, D/M2k18 into the piled wreckage facility.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’re we doin’ in a junkyard?”

“More like a deathtrap,”M2k18 quivers, “this is a really bad idea, ‘Lia.”

“What do you have to be afraid of in here?”

CLANG!

“Hey you!”

“Woah!”

They see the giant mantis hopping off the cars and lands in front of them.

“A giant bug?!”

“Man, this city is crawling with mutants.”

“Say, you’re not those annoying turtles. Who the heck are youz? Their cousins?”

“Who wants ta know?”

“Me, ya overgrown salad.”

“Knock it off, Repo,” Dahlia cuts in, “I need to borrow your cat.”

“Uhh...a cat?”

“Oh, Mrs. Nubbins~! I’m back~!”

“Woah, woah, hey! Are you crazy?! You tryin’ ta get us killed?!"

CLATTER!

The turtles gawk the moment the mutant feline runs towards them.

“Every man for himself!”

“I’m too pretty to die!”

“Me too!”

SLIDE!

“Sit, Nubbins!”

SCREEECCHHH!

By Dahlia’s command, Nubbins sits in front of her before the others become cat food.

“Down~...”

THUMP!

“Now, shake.”

The manti-cat lowers her mantis claw for Dahlia to grab.

“Good, girl.”

Dahlia tosses a tuna fish, which Nubbins happily eats.

Reow~

Nubbins purrs against her head.

“Aww, I missed you too. Look what I got.”

Dahlia waves a protection charm before pinning it on her collar. Under Nubbins’ left paw is her owner, still groaning in pain.

“Ugh...say, how come she listens to you?”

“It’s a female thing.”

“So, this is Plan N, huh?”

“What better way to round up some rogue villains than with a rogue mutant herder.”

“In this case, a giant cat bug.”

“Wait till our Raph gets a look at you.”

“Now wait a sec! You can’t just—”

“Relax, I got your compensation.”

Dahlia points her thumb towards the crates of used parts, satisfying the greedy mutant.

“Alright, boys, let’s move out.”

ROAR~!

With everyone on board, Nubbins leaps out of the junkyard. Riding up front, Dahlia feel D2k18’s arms around her waist.

“I can’t let you go through with it.”

“Somehow, I knew you were lipreading back there.”

“I’m not kidding.”

He tightens his hold, resting his head on her shoulder.

“You can’t expect me to let you give yourself up like that.”

“I have to, Donnie.”

“But he’s—”

“Artio is much of a victim to Corvidian as my dad was. There must be another reason for wanting me to go with him. I have to find out for myself.”

Dahlia puts a hand over his cheek.

“If anything does happen, I know you’ll swoop in and save me like a boss.”

“Like you need saving,” he chuckles, “but give me one moment of heroism so I can rub it in thy brother’s face.”

“You rub your success in anyone’s face.

“Aww~.”

“Shut it, Mikey.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Not you, knucklehead.”

“Watch out!”

SLIDE~!!

L2k12’s warning makes Dahlia pull on Mrs. Nubbins’ collar, avoiding a collision with a runaway truck.

CRASH/CLATTER!

Looking up, their mouths drop at the building where the gem is, covered in mystic vines and a cloud of mist circling in the sky.

“That wasn’t there a minute ago.”

“We better hurry. Anyone have eyes on Colton?”

“DAAHHHH!”

WHOOSH!

“Mikey?!”

M2k12 screams as he dangles by Colton’s tail, being jet-rocketed in circles. April and D2k3 spot them when passing by.

“Thank goodness you’re here!”

“Splinter, Raph, and Artio are fighting Jax! Other Donnie and Draxum are heading for the barrier!”

“Donnie, give Purple-Rain a lift! Leon, Red-King, you help capture Colton and the others! I’ve got Jax!”

Everyone but Dahlia gets off of the mutant cat.

“Hey, Nubbins~ see the tasty fishman?”

The feline licks her lips in response.

“Go fish!”

REOW!

Nubbins makes a running start then climbs up the skyscraper while Dahlia forms two swords to evade every obstacle in their way.

FWOOM!

Landing on the rooftop, Dahlia hops off of Nubbins and sees Jax rampaging against the trio.

“Raph!”

“Dahlia—you’re okay!”

“We need to get this charm onto Jax! It’s the only way to repel the spell on him!”

“Give me the charm and keep distracting him!”

“No, it is too dangerous!”

“There’s no time! Artio, do it!”

The deer tosses the charm to Dahlia as the others hold Jax off. Pulling the metal off the pipes, Dahlia shoots four pieces to form handcuffs and ankle bracelets chaining the sea creature in place.

SCREE~EECH!

“Watch it!”

SHATTER!

The men back away when Jax breaks the restraints.

“He’s been exposed by the spell for too long!”

FWIP—FWIP!

“Dahlia!”

SNAG/URGH!

One of Jax’s dreadlocks wraps around Dahlia’s wrist and pulls her in.

“Big mistake!”

Using his strength against him, she takes this chance to cling from behind and clip the charm onto his coat.

SHAAA~

“GASP!”

THUMP!

In seconds, Jax is on his knees, wheezing, while Dahlia stands beside him. The red, scaley being finally turns to the girl, dazed, and confused.

“Kid...you...you saved me.”

“Hey, even thieves like you don’t deserve ‘this whole situation’.”

[Guys, we got a problem!]

[It’s the crystal!]

Hearing the Donatello’s, they look up at the tower where they’re stationed.

“According to the level of mystical properties that’s radiating at a high frequency with—”

“It’s overheating! The inferno gem has become a ticking timebomb!”

[Say what?!]

“Not even Colton’s facial recognition could turn this off!”

“At this rate, it’ll explode with such force, the entire world will succumb to madness in mere seconds!”

[So, what do we do?! There has to be another way!]

[How much time until?]

“I’m estimating about, uhh...seven minutes?”

[Aw, swell! We have three geniuses and not one of them can come up with a plan?!]

“Get off our shell, hothead!”

“You try tearing down a ginormous mystic weapon the size of a tour bus!”

“That’s enough,” Dahlia shouts, “all of you—head for the loading docks!”

[What are you gonna do?]

“Something stupid. Leo, portal them, now.”

[But I—]

“Do it...please.”

[...You better come back.]

“With a dozen pizzas, mi amigo.”

[Dahlia—no! Whatever it is—]

She cuts D2k18 off and turns to Artio.

“Years ago, Nova taught me a spell only used for the most crucial moments. I think you know what I’m talking about.”

“...It’s a long shot...but we don’t have a choice.”

“W-Wait—what are you—Dahlia, what’s going on?”

“Artio, find Hypno and meet us at the tower. Jax, we’ll need you too.”

“I’m all ears, kid.”

“I’ll explain on the way. Okay, girl...one last shot. You ready?”

ROAR!

“Let’s do this!”

“Dahlia, wait!”

But R2k18 is too late, as she rides on Nubbins, heading for the threat at hand.

CRACKLE/FZZT/RUMBLE!

The mechanism holding the gem breaks down piece by piece. It doesn’t take long for Dahlia and Jax to regroup with Artio as he brings the hippo mutant with him.

“Think you’re up for one more spell, Hypno?”

“This fellow briefed me in, but I’ll give it a shot.”

Each take a corner, surrounding the weapon. Taking a deep breath, Dahlia conjures material from all around, then transfers it to the rooftop.

WHIRR/SHOO~OOM!

In one fell swoop, a large encryption is drawn from her powers, right under the machinery.

“...‘Ase-rasu...mani-fesu...restori-va-ragul...safa paray’...”

[Ase-rasu...mani-fesu...]

All three chant as their hands glow, the aura emanating to the symbol, then floating up to ensnare the gem inside a giant ball of their combined magic.

“Jax, you open a portal right before it explodes! We’ll force it right out of this dimension!”

WHIRL—WHIRL~!

A strong wind circles, forcing them to dig their feet down from losing balance. Nubbins uses her mantis claws to hold Hypno and Artio, and Jax using his lock to grab Dahlia’s waist.

“Something is happening,” Hypno hollers.

“Stand your ground,” Artio warns, “the stone’s reaching the final peak!”

“C’mon, Jax, where’s that portal!”

“I have to find the right coordinates! I need more time!”

WHIRL/FWOOM!

“Ahh!”

“Dahlia/Kid!”

A powerful force pushes her out of Jax’s hold and off her feet.

ZOOOOMMM!

“Gotcha!”

Out of nowhere, D2k18 flies in for the save.

C-CLACK/CLANG/WHAM!

Using his battle-shell, the claws firmly plant on the concrete as Donnie holds her from behind.

“Donnie?!”

“I told you! I’m not leaving you behind!”

SHAA!

Just then, L2k18 appears from a portal, the others from both sides of the law follow behind. Each support Jax, Artio, and Hypno by forming a line.

“Guys!”

“We’re with you, girl!”

“If you go down fighting—”

“Then so do we!”

WHIRRR~

“I got it,” Jax hollers.

“This oven’s about to blow,” Meat-Sweats shouts.

“I don’t want to explode,” Ghost-Bear whines.

“Twenty seconds people,” D2k18 warns.

“Artio, Hypno—on my mark!”

“Right/Yeah!”

“Twelve seconds and counting!”

“Get ready in three...”

“This better work!”

“Five seconds!”

“Two...”

“Brace yourselves!”

“Here we goooo!”

CRACKLE!

“NOW!”

WARP!

💥🔥KA-BOOOOOMMMM!🔥💥

A black hole appears, just in time before the gem destroys itself.

FWOOM/WHIRL/CRUMBLE/SHATTER!

Despite the gravitational force pushing everything in its way, the three pillars give one final attack.

TOSS!

They throw the bubble of chaos into the portal before it disperses into thin air.

“...Did...did it work?”

“I...think so...”

💨💨WHOO~OOSSSHHH💨💨

At the exact moment, the sky turns back into the night shade, the thundering clouds fall apart, and more importantly...

“Huh/Wha.../Oh my/Ugh...”

The townspeople are brought back to their senses, without a shred of disorderly madness in sight.

“Guys, it worked! We won!”

“Whoo/Aw yeah~/Boom/Alright!”

The turtles from all three dimensions and even the villains, take a moment to celebrate. All except for three people, standing from a far distance.

“So, Jax,” says Dahlia, “where did you send it?”

“To a desolate galaxy. Where no forms of life have been created yet.”

“What are you gonna do now?”

“It won’t be long before the authorities from our dimension track us down. Besides, my DPG (dimensional-portal-gun) is running low, so...”

“You’re turning yourself in?”

“No point in sticking to a plan that’s up in smoke.”

“You could’ve left when you had the chance,” Artio implies.

“Yeah, well...I kinda owed a nosy teen for saving my tail.”

A tiny smile is sent her way, with the same gesture returned. The alien tosses the charm to Artio, then walks over to his comrades.

“I will need the other brooches. Those costed a pretty penny.”

“Yeah, yeah...but...thanks, anyway. I guess, this time, I owe you one.”

The deer yokai reaches into his coat and hands her a gift pouch.

“A little something to remind you of our deal.”

FWIP!

Just then, Dahlia is startled by D2k18 when being pulled to his side, not taking his domineering glare off of Artio for a second.

“Pardon me, but could you tear your filthy hooves off this precious, wonderful, and amazing lady, sir?”

“Pfft...whatever you say, purple. And Dahlia...”

“I know.”

With a simple nod, Artio raises his hand.

SNAP!

🔥FLARE!🔥

Like that, he fades with the green flames trailing behind.

“Ugh, show off.”

Dahlia takes this time to open the pouch. In her hands is a hairpin, embroidered with multi-colored gems, the centerpiece an aquamarine gemstone, and three-colored feathers.

“Why would Artio give me...this...?”

That’s when she notices a small, folded paper. Flipping one side up, it reveals a short note that leaves the girl gasping in shock.

“What’s it say?”

Instead of answering, Dahlia clutches the note and hairpin close to her.

“I understand now.”

“Um...as much as I pride myself on my intellect, I’m quite stumped on the relaying message, here.”

“I’ll explain later. But first...we have one final mission.”

. . . .

[Moments Later…]

SLASH!

“Got another slice right here!”

“Dibs/Mine!”

SHAA!

“Ha-haa!”

“What/Hey!”

L2k18 snatches the pizza off his doppelganger before warping away from the other Raph’s and sitting on a lounge chair near the trailer.

“Ya can’t win em’ all, mi hermanos.”

“Who wants more lemonade~?”

In the deepest parts of the forest, everyone is celebrating their victory at Todd’s Cuddle Cakes Puppy Rescue Park.

Bark-Bark-Bark!

“Aww~ c’mere you!”

“Best! Day! Ever!”

M2k12 & M2k18 fawn over the puppies that pile on them like a blanket of love.

“Mm...this pizza is way better than the joint we have back home,” Skeet comments.

“How would you know,” Colton jokes, “we haven’t had a decent meal in years.”

“Thanks for letting us in on the fun, kid.”

“Even you guys deserve a little reward.”

“Psst...”

On the sidelines, D2k18 is pulled away from the puppies surrounding him and turns to Todd.

“Now’s your chance, friend.”

“O-Oh, uh...right. Shelldon, if you would.”

[On it, bro.]

The techno turtle hovers above the crowd.

BLAAARRREE!

“Dah/Ahh/Gyahh/Ow!”

Once the blow horn stops, everyone turns to D2k18.

“Ahem...ladies and gentle-turtles...fellow mutants and other worldly beings. I have a crucial and hopefully final decision to be made public. If the lovely lady in pink would kindly step up, please.”

“Here we go/Ooh~/Shh, quiet.”

The three brothers watch in anticipation as Dahlia stands in front of Donnie.

“I’ve been wanting to give you something.”

“Oh, Donnie, you didn’t—”

“Too bad—so act like you’re supposed to be surprised just for dramatic effect.”

Dahlia giggles as Donnie gives the capybara a signal.

FWEE~FWEET!

BARK!

A few awes are heard as Melvin (brown fur with curled tail) walks over wearing a collar with a note tied to it. She kneels down to open the note and instantly brims with joy.

“Oh-mi-gosh...you’re giving me Melvin?!”

“You always said you wanted a pet. Of course, I’ll do my share in pet sitting when you’re in school…”

“I love him! Thank you so much!”

Donnie holds her hands in his with a sincere smile.

“This past year, you’ve influenced me in more ways than one. You’ve been an ally, a friend, and the only person who could put up with my attitude longer than those dumb-dumbs have.”

“Hey/Ugh/Watch it.”

“But most importantly…you never gave up on me even when I did. You made me question a lot of things, yet every theory, footnotes and logical explanations all ended up with the same answer. And that is…without a doubt…how much I’ve fallen in love with you.”

At this point, Donnie’s brothers have their phones out recording while everyone is waiting in suspense.

“It’s happening, it’s happening~.”

“Shush, I’m trying to capture the tender moment.”

“Send that to me later.”

“Do. You. Mind?”

Donnie sends an annoyed look their way before regaining his composure.

“So, um...I know we confirmed our feelings earlier, but I thought a few witnesses wouldn’t hurt. Physical proof for future use.”

“Couldn’t resist gloating,” she teases.

“Naturally. But all jokes aside…I need to ask.”

He brings her closer.

“Dahlia Shinzo…would you do me the honor of being my official girlfriend?”

All the anxiety he felt before is now replaced with sheer confidence. Everything he had planned to the last detail, finally leads up to this day. After a brief silence, she reaches up to caress his cheek, expressing all her love in one answer.

“I’d love to, Donatello Hamato.”

🎉BLARE/WHOO/YEAH-HAA!🎉

An uproar of cheers bellows as the terrapin grins, victoriously.

“Yes-yes-yes-yes—YESSS!”

He spins her around as they laugh, then brings her in for a kiss filled with passion and longing.

“Bravo,” Hypnos applauds, “I always knew those two make a marvelous pair.”

“Ay dios mio,” Ghostbear wails, “it’s so beautiful~!”

“Oh, clam sauce—not on the apron!”

Meat-Sweats yanks the fabric away before the overgrown furball uses it for a tissue.

“Atta boy, twin brother!”

“Those are my besties!”

“Your genius son,” Draxum comments, “finally had the backbone to proceed as planned.”

“Obviously takes his charming personality after me,” Splinter proudly states.

“Whoo-hoo~ go other Donnie!”

“The you from here’s pretty cool, bro. You should take some pointers.”

D2k12 nudges R2k12 as they chuckle.

When the newly appointed couple part ways, they press their foreheads against each other’s.

“Hehe…so, tech-boy…was it worth the wait?”

“I’d replay this chance a million times over, my love.”

SHAA~

“Hm/Huh?”

Suddenly, a portal opens revealing five men in long dark robes.

“That’s our cue, boys.”

The ring leader walks towards Jax.

“Jax of Dimension (XXXX)…”

“Relax man, we’ve been waiting for you. No tricks this time.”

The aliens’ hand themselves over as the men use futuristic neon-glowing cuffs.

“Give me a minute.”

Jax faces the duo.

“Hey, you…you’ve got one heck of a girl right here. Don’t let her slip away from ya.”

“Not in a millennium.”

“Thanks again, Dahlia. This dimension is lucky to have someone like you.”

Though wrists bounded, he reaches out and she gladly shakes his hand. Dahlia turns to the authority leader.

“They helped save our dimension. Will that count for anything in their defense?”

“Perhaps.”

“Oh, and since you’re here, they could use a ride home as well.”

She gestures to the turtle doppelgängers.

“Yes, I see...well, we best get you all back to your proper dimensions, then.”

“We’re going home?”

“Finally!”

“Sewer sweet sewer—here I come!”

“Well, we better say our goodbyes.”

Every turtle meets with their opposites.

“So long little me’s. It was a shell of a ride.”

“Keep being awesome, dudes.”

“Bring it in, fellas! Altogether now!”

CLAP!

“COW-A-BUNGA!”

The Mikey’s high-three with spirit.

“Y’know…yer nothin’ like us.”

“I’m not?”

“Nah…”

R2k12 lightly punches his larger doppelgänger.

“You’re better.”

“Keep it up, man.”

“Heh…you too. Now c’mere~.”

“Woah/Easy big guy!”

R2k18 chokeholds his smaller selves as they smirk.

“—aaand give at least one hour to spend your ‘me-time’ without the thought of training. Maybe then you’ll learn to loosen up and be half as great as me.”

“If you can keep your end of the bargain.”

“Dude I was already an A-Class swordsman. There’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“That’s not what your Mikey said.”

“Not after that “incident” from a certain weekend.”

“Wait what? Oh, that little snitch!”

L2k3/12 laugh as their outgoing-self storming over to his younger brother.

“Thanks for all your help.”

“Did you forget? We’re the smartest minds of our worlds. The others would be lost if they didn’t have the true brains of—”

“Donnie…”

“Okay, okay, this was a team effort.”

“And thank you, Dahlia.”

“We would’ve been turtle soup if you hadn’t found us.”

“And our world would’ve been destroyed if not for your help.”

D2k12 surprises her with a hug.

“I won’t forget what you told me.”

“You better.”

D2k18 leans towards his 2k3 counterpart.

“Is it weird to be jealous of myself?”

“Ahaha...”

The turtles regroup with their families just as Splinter is walking towards them.

“If feels weird seeing another Splinter.”

“Brings back a lot of memories.”

“I understand how you all must feel. Though you may not be my boys…you will always have a place in our family.”

M2k12 lunges in for a hug, making the rat chuckle as the other versions join in.

“Gentlemen…if you please…”

The head authority gestures to the portal. Just before they enter, the turtles look back at their new friends.

“See a later dudes.”

“Get back safe.”

“Until then, guys.”

“We’ll we see you guys again?”

“Hey, we traveled back in time and space before.”

“So we’ll definitely find a way back.”

“Eventually.”

“Let’s have another pizza party at your place!”

“It’s a promise.”

Both versions form a line then bow in respect and gratitude, to which the third party does the same with a smile.

WARP/SHAAA!

In mere seconds, the portal closes, and closing the final chapter to their latest adventure. Dahlia picks up Melvin and turns around.

“C’mon guys…let’s go home.”

That word never felt right as they head for the Turtle Tank.

“Um, do you mind if we hitch a ride as well?”

“As long as you don’t touch anything.”

“Or try to kill us.”

“Like always.”

“You try to make a delicious meal out of turtles, and you’re labeled a murderous foodie for life.”

“Ooh! I like another of those ice creams with sprinkles!”

“You almost ate the entire dispenser on the way here!”

Following behind, Donnie and Dahlia watch in amusement as the group argues amongst themselves.

“Some things never change.”

“I’m glad something did, though.”

Donnie puts an arm around Dahlia as they blush, timidly.

“Hey...”

“Yeah?”

“Knowing there’s other versions of you and your brothers...I wonder what my counterpart is like in their worlds.”

“Good question. Well, one way or another, I’m sure they’ll see ‘you’ in no time.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Easy...”

Donnie steals a kiss to the cheek.

“You’re meant to be with us.”

Though a little corny, Dahlia smiles at the wholesome comment.

“I think so, too.”

In their hearts, they know that someday it will happen, and be together with everyone like they are now. As a family.

. . . . . .

TO BE CONTINUED...IN THE FINALE...

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inarretable · 3 months

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fear not mother, your daughter is a warrior ⸺ karitza ren. a mutuals only, 21+, low activity knight of ren oc. with verses to accommodate other timelines and universes. established through headcanons & pre-tros novels/written media. written by ame. this is a side blog that follows from @inebranlabl

information. prompts. aesthetic. find me at: @acharnemcnt

an exploration of . . . unholy motherhood, violent devotion, diving into the wreckage, home is the first grave, monstrous rebirth, children of war, bloodstained hands, ruinous sacrifice.

✱✱ This is a sideblog to @inebranlabl and follows back from there. You do not have follow back inebranlabl if you are only interested in Karitza Ren

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

Also, FYI, I am usually mobile bound and this is not my main blog, so I am not always logged in here. Therefore, it can take me up to a week or two to follow back at times.

i. I’m mutuals only which means I only write & interact with blogs when we are both following each other. This blog is low activity so I will be fairly slow at times. I have a very busy personal life, so I tend to follow a very limited amount of blogs, for my own sanity and so that I can develop deeper, ongoing plots.

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I don’t mind turning memes into threads but please ask first, or I will not reply. ( Everyone gets 2 initial freebies without asking ).

iv. I absolutely love OCs so give them to me! This blog is crossover friendly.

v. This blog contains dark and potentially triggering themes. Please be safe! Some of which include: murder, gore, war, indoctrination, dismemberment, torture, death, child soldiers, etc. tagged cw/tw “the trigger”. Sexual content will be tagged cw suggestive.

vi. First of all, I respect everyone's ships. If I am not fond of a ship you enjoy, that doesn't mean you should not enjoy it freely! Ship hate is not tolerated here.

I enjoy dynamics of all types but I am little more hesitant with romantic ships. I just prefer to plot and develop our muses first to see if the chemistry is there before jumping into a ship. Please do not force or hint ships. Rather, if we are writing and plotting together and you think there is potential, just ask! The worst that will happen is I suggest an alternate dynamic.

Karitza is very closed, jaded and rough around the edges so she is not the best at relationships. That being said, I am open to toxic dynamics, I will not write abusive romantic relationships. And I don't feel comfortable writing hero/villain ships where one muse has tortured, abused or traumatized another muse.

FYI. I have integrated a lot of Karitza's star wars lore with a group of knight muses that I have heavily plotted with. I may mention them in my main star wars verses.

credit adjustment psd 001 by evansyhelp, silver lining by jaynedits , pinned image quote from: Natalie Haynes, Stone Blind: Medusa's Story

#pinned #ame. 30+ cst. south asian american.#mobile rules under cut.

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

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Pinned under wreckage. Hmm, how about Intruality with Remus a construction worker where something went wrong? Preferably happy ending but any will do. (keep up the good work! You're amazing!!)

(Prompts with boxes have been taken, highlighted have been written)

Requests for this card are closed, thank you to anyone who sent in requests! If you don’t want to see these you can block the tag #false bthb. As always shoot me an ask if you wanna be tagged in future stories, whether it be for bad things happen bingo or any of the other series, one shots or in general!

Thanks for the request, I hope you like it!

General Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @im-an-anxious-wreck @logans-library

Hold Onto Me

Summary: Patton had just wanted to deliver lunch to his husband when he saw the emergency vehicles at the construction site. All he can hope for is that keeping ahold of his hand will be enough. (Happy Ending)

Warnings: anxiety, major injury, blood, hospitals, emergency situation (if there are more please let me know)

Prompt: Pinned Down By Wreckage

Ships: Romantic Intruality (Patton x Remus)

WC: 4038

Disclaimer: I don't think this is how construction practices work but for the sake of the beginning that’s how it's gonna work because angst. The procedure to get him out is however fairly accurate, I did a bit of research as to how someone is rescued from that kind of situation but other than that please take the accuracy of this situation with a grain of salt.

Remus’ heavy boots thudded loudly on the thin catwalk leading over top of where the scaffolding was set in place for the floor of the third story of the new building, not that he could hear it over the general din of construction work. Everything looked good, he was only here to do a general sweep over before anyone else came up to lay the insulation and then actual flooring to make sure nothing would collapse. Being so high up he had a wonderful view of the fair bit of land whoever was moving into this house would own when it was done: a field with woods surrounding it with a long, winding road leading up to the front entrance.

It was stupidly extravagant, some dream house Roman would have loved to live in if he was rich enough to afford but Remus had been so excited to work on it, and still was. He got to help with the design work and use his hands for hours and hours and even though he came home tired and sweaty he still loved it with every fiber of his being. Not to mention he got to go home to Patton who would smile and cup his cheek to kiss him before pushing him down the hall to shower while he started on dinner. He’d come out to help and they’d settle down at the table or couch to talk or watch a movie and then either work on their own things or cuddle up in bed depending on how tired they were. It was mundane and domestic most of the time but Remus loved that with Patton. He had him and his job and his stupid brother and he couldn’t be happier; everything in his life made him feel safe and happy and comfortable and he couldn’t imagine asking for anything better.

Of course it could all be ruined in an instant. One wrong step and he could certainly plummet to his death. The scaffolding could crack and he’d be impaled on a jagged piece of wood. He could break every bone in his body or be paralyzed for life and be a burden on everyone who knew him and- Remus shook his head impatiently, willing the thoughts away as he turned carefully and began making the rest of the way across the catwalk. Thoughts like that kept him on his toes at least but it was best not to dwell on them too much. He was always careful and he wasn’t about to jinx himself by thinking of everything that could go wrong on the job.

He almost laughed when he felt it: a shift under his feet that meant something could be loose. Of course he would manage to have the most ironic timing in the world. Carefully stepping back he looked closely to see if he could tell what the problem was but he saw nothing. Biting his lip he looked back up at the last couple of feet he had to walk. He should definitely turn around and tell someone to look and fix whatever might be wrong, but he could also save the time and try to figure out himself what it could be if he could just get a better vantage point. It was only a couple of feet, if he stepped wide enough he might be able to avoid whatever problem there was.

Mind made up he stepped forward again more gingerly than he had ever done anything in his life, faintly hearing the lunch bell ringing and the gradual silence that was left from the various machines being turned off and tools being put down. Good, he thought, that way if anything happens no one’s around to get hurt. He screwed his mouth to the side as he quickly dismissed that thought as well, mentally kicking himself for the possible jinx. It was only a couple of feet, just one step and he could hug the wall and lean over to see what the problem was. Honestly with the way the skeleton of the wall was he could probably squeeze himself between the gaps of the unfinished floor and climb down to safety to avoid even having to hop back to the catwalk and go all the way back around. Leaning forward a bit for stability he brought his arms out and quickly lunged for the one, grabbing a hold of two support beams and digging into them so hard his fingernails began to ache. Despite that his new position seemed to be fine, no more shifting under his feet as the tips of his boots found a bit of purchase on the floor's framework by the wall. Grinning through the adrenaline rush he maneuvered himself around until he was facing back towards the room and carefully surveyed the floor. They had laid the framework out in a hurry- ill advised but for the time crunch they were under it had seemed necessary. The consequence for them rushing it though thankfully just seemed to be a missing support plank, making a couple of the beams bow under the catwalk when they were walked on. An easy enough fix and thankfully one that would be relatively quick.

Remus looked down with a grimace. He could climb down...but he had already gotten in trouble once for using scaffolding as a jungle gym even if he was trying to be careful not to be caught. He’d rather not be labeled as a liability not even halfway through the project and since in reality there wasn’t that much wrong with the floor he really didn’t have an excuse not to walk back the way he’d come. Sighing in disappointment he stepped forward and began to make his way back across, the shifting under his feet only making him slightly nervous as he took a bigger step to avoid the worst of it- only to immediately regret it as the entire catwalk shifted to the right as the board he was using slid away from the framework. The catwalk was mostly just a series of shorter boards placed in a sort of grid pattern so you could walk around without there actually having to be a floor. The board he was standing on and currently trying his hardest to rebalance on had shifted under his weight making the edge fall off the board underneath it, meaning it was now hanging onto a beam less than three inches thick by a couple of inches at its end. So not only was then the floor not laid well but the catwalk hadn’t been properly secured either, and if he squinted even closer there wasn’t much of the floor that was laid completely securely.

Swearing profusely a selfish part of him wished someone else was in this position besides him, maybe they could have figured out a way out of this mess. As it was it was just Remus alone up here, everyone else gone on lunch break and if they noticed he was missing they probably assumed he was either in the bathroom or fucking around somewhere he probably shouldn’t be...such as on the second story unsecured catwalk watching the floor settle and resettle under his weight with sweat dripping down his face. This was supposed to have been a quick job- ten minutes at most of him poking around to find something and now that he had he was risking practically the entire floor collapsing underneath him. He didn’t want to call out for help in case it actually did fall through and trap someone beneath it so it seemed as if it was simply going to be a waiting game in which either he or the floor would come out on top.

And with another shift underneath him it didn’t seem like it was his lucky day.

-----

Patton sang softly along to the song playing through the radio, tapping his fingers along with the beat on the wheel. He didn’t do this often but he really wanted to surprise Remus at work with a lunch. He had packed a little extra for dinner as well hoping he wasn’t too late to give it to him. Remus had said yesterday he’d have to stay a little later than usual to look over some things and do...whatever it was he had said he had to do to play catch up in the huge project the company had undertaken, an apology heavy on his tongue that Patton had preemptively forgiven him for with a peck on the lips and a smile. Though he wasn’t happy how over worked his husband often was, he more blamed the company and commissioners than Remus himself. He worked hard and it showed, and Patton was always proud of him. So, packed lunch and dinner it was with hopefully a quick visit before he had to leave since he was in no way authorized personnel but the people in charge often simply rolled their eyes and waved him through, vaguely threatening him with promised of forced exit if he stayed too long, which Remus never let him do anyway since an active construction zone wasn’t exactly safe.

The sound of sirens in the distance cut off his thoughts as his blood ran cold. Sirens didn’t have to mean anything of course, there were many reasons you’d hear them- but this was practically out in the middle of nowhere, near a construction zone which was again out in the middle of nowhere. Cursing he sped up just a little bit, desperate to get to the site and hopefully disprove what he already knew he’d see. He nearly started crying right then when he turned into the long drive only to see the house surrounded by emergency vehicles and people in uniform bustling from point to point to do whatever it was they had to do. He could see the part of the collapsed house beyond that, what looked like a cave in from the second story that had taken the supporting wall with it, though how something like that had happened Patton couldn’t fathom.

He hadn’t even clicked the engine all the way off when he was out of the car and running to who he knew was in charge, dodging out of the way and trying not to make a nuisance of himself so they didn’t have a reason to kick him off the property. There was no sign of Remus as far as he was looking, not even the sound of his rather loud voice cutting through the worried din of everyone else’s voices which only served to drop his stomach further as he swallowed hard around the nausea. Please God no, he thought. Please please please-

“Where’s Remus?” Patton didn’t think there was a need to bother with formalities in this kind of situation. He just needed to figure out where his husband was, go to him and make sure he was safe. It was a simple plan, the simplest set of goals he’d ever set in his life, but his heart sank as the supervisor turned to him with a grave look on his face that told Patton everything he needed to know before the other even began shaking his head.

“There was an accident. The floor- the floor must have been loose and nobody thought- I didn’t think to check on him after he went up there. We all know how he is.” He gestured helplessly to where several people were gathered around a section of rubble, the weight of a whole building bearing down on whatever they were puttering around. “We know where he is; it’s just getting him out.”

Patton didn’t need to hear anymore, noticing some of the people leaving the group and leaving a bit of space he could see the mess through. Most of it was just wood beams sticking out in every direction like a crudely placed beaver damn, some insulation from the ground floor poking up at the bottom. If he squinted though he could just barely make out a small space that had been cleared, a small hole that he could only assume was what they could safely clear away to see if Remus was still-

Pushing forward before he could finish the thought he hurried over to where the space had been made and knelt down next to it, laying a shaking hand next t o the rubble and iting his lip tp keep from crying.

“Sir you can’t be here-”

“That’s my husband in there.” Patton cut the woman off sharply, only feeling slightly guilty for his tone.

The woman softened. “I understand but-”

“I’ll leave when I’m in the way but right now no one’s doing anything so I’m staying right here so I can be with him. I’m not going to touch or disrupt anything but I’m not moving.” Patton looked up, defiantly daring her to continue, but after a moment she just nodded and backed away. He turned back to the space as a slight moan alerted him, gasping as long fingers emerged from the cramped darkness and reached out. A high pitched whine left Patton’s mouth at the sight of how bloody it was but he nevertheless reached forward desperately and grasped the fingers in a gentle hold. Faintly he heard a warning not to pull him as assistance was yelled for but he only shook his head as tears streamed down his face. Everything in him was screaming to lift the beams himself and drag Remus to safety but he knew it couldn’t work like that. This was a delicate situation that needed to be handled with care but the frustration only built as the seconds ticked by and nothing seemed to be getting done.

“Remus honey, I’m here okay? I’m right here and so are people that are going to get you out of there. You just hold onto me baby everything will be okay.” He nearly choked on his own uncertainty but he couldn’t afford to let emus think he was anything other than certain he’d make it out of this. His fingers squeezed weakly and Patton’s breath hitched in relief, continuing to rattle out reassurances that he’d be out soon and they were doing what they could he just had to hold on a little bit longer. His head snapped up as a hand landed on his shoulder, one of the paramedics motioning people forward with equipment.

“Keep holding his hand and talking to him, you’re probably helping keep him awake.” Patton decided he didn’t want to think too hard on what that might mean, instead simply scooching over slightly to make room for whatever it was they were doing and running his thumb gently over Remus’ knuckles as he took a steadying breath.

“They’re going to get you out Remus. They have equipment they’re setting up to get you out and then everything will be fine.” His fingers were squeezed again gently and the medic must have noticed since they paused and leaned down.

“We’re going to put two sturdy boards on either side of you to help stabilize what’s laying on top of you and then put airbags on the other side of them to lift everything up. That should give us enough room to remove you safely. If at any point your space gets too cramped or you feel things settle down on you more, squeeze your husband’s hand and he’ll let us know okay? We’re working as quickly as we can to get you out.” Remus squeezed his hand again and the medic nodded, signaling for things to begin. “This is called cribbing. It’s just putting a basic framework underneath everything to hopefully stop it from settling down more. And then those long tubes will be put in and inflated to lift it up, at which point you'll have to move out of the way so we can get him out.”

Remus squeezed his hand again and both the action and explanation Patton felt his anxiety ebb the tiniest amount. He nodded to the kind woman and moved to hold Remus with both hands as if doing so would make the process go any faster. As the emergency crew bustled around him and got everything into place he simply sat with cramping legs and blurring vision, reassuring the trapped man through soft touches and softer words as they moved thick, wedged shaped beams in front of the pile of debris. Holding his breath Patton tightened his grip slightly as they began inching the beams underneath, focusing his attention solely on the bloodied hand in his grip, poised to react at even the slightest twitch of discomfort. The boards were halfway in when his hand was squeezed weakly, jolting him out of his tense state to yell out a loud “Stop” to the team. They froze and looked to the woman still holding Patton’s shoulder, who leaned forward to be heard.

“Squeeze once if the pile is shifting, twice if we’re hitting you with the boards.” Two quick squeezes were felt and she nodded slightly. “Is there any way you can move without endangering yourself so we can get them in a bit more?”

He felt a slight squeeze on his hand before shuffling was heard accompanied by a quiet whimper that tore straight through Patton’s heart as he fought to simply hold the hand in support and not yank him out himself. He nodded as his hand was squeezed again and kept up his quiet reassurances, speaking just loud enough for Remus to hear him over the directions the medics were constantly throwing back and forth. After what seemed like an eternity the wedges were in place and Remus gave the go ahead to squeeze in the air bags. No one dared breathe as they were squeezed into place, no response from Remus unless they asked for confirmation that everything was still okay.

Everything was going fine- the bags were filling up and Patton could see the rubble being lifted slowly but surely up and off his husband. They were so close to having him out and okay that it almost didn’t register when Remus’ hand went limp in his own. Patton felt the muscles slacken and the hand become sudden deadweight in between his own. Eyes widening he squeezed his hand gently, then perhaps a bit too hard as panic gripped him.

“Remus honey? Are you okay?” The slick hand remained still, fingers not even twitching to indicate he had been heard. “Remus? Remus!”

He thrashed as he was pulled away, screaming louder than he ever had in his life as Remus’ hand slipped away from him and he was hauled to his feet and backward. The medics crowded to fill the space and he lost sight of his hand completely, screaming louder and scratching madly at the arms around his middle.

“Let me go! Let me go, he needs me!” The logic that Patton more needed him than Remus needed Patton over the medics at the moment was flung out of the window as he bucked backwards attempting to throw off whoever it was but the person just held him tighter as they walked him away, heedless of his ear splitting screams. Vaguely he was aware they were talking to him but Patton couldn’t care less as the phantom sensation of Remus’ hand going slack in his own tore his mind apart.

“P…….Pat…...Patton please!” Virgil’s yell finally cut through the panicked fog and provided the window he needed to haul Patton the rest of the way over bside the parked ambulance and sit him down on the ground. “They’re going to get him, Patton, it's okay. I promise you He’ll be okay. And we’ll ride in the ambulance and go into the hospital with him and they’ll make sure he’ll be back to making idiotic decisions in no time.”

The words meant to reassure him didn’t make Patton feel any better but all the fight left him, adrenaline running its course as he buried his face in his friend’s chest and wept.

-----

Remus had Patton and Virgil as his first two people to call in an emergency and since Patton had already gotten there and hadn’t checked his phone someone must have then called Virgil when he hadn’t picked up. As bad as he felt he was grateful the other was there as he all but collapsed while they finally got Remus’ still, limp body out from under the wreckage and onto a stretcher, stabilizing him as much as they could before ushering him into the ambulance and driving away after denying them riding along since they needed the extra room. Patton all but dragged Virgil to his car, the other swiping away his keys and insisting he drive as Patton was in no state to and Patton really just agreed if only to get them going faster.

They didn’t get to go in Remus’ room for hours after that, apparently suffering a broken legs and ribs, a sprained risk and a minor concussion that had taken the rest of the day to fix, nearly sending Patton into hysterics when they were informed with the final comment being that he had gotten off lucky. Thankfully Roman and Logan had arrived at that point and they were able to sit with Patton through the night and morning before Logan suggested he take Virgil to get a change of clothes and other necessities so they’d be able to stay longer, Roman volunteering to come along to get Patton and Remus’ things as well.

The hospital room was quiet save for the soft beeping of the machines lining the bed and the gentle huffing breaths of Remus as he slept, thankfully peacefully, in the hospital bed that Patton had his chair pulled all the way up to to hold his now bandaged hand between his. He yawned loudly and laid his head on his arm, eyes fighting to stay open as he promised himself he was merely resting his eyes but drifting off rather quickly considering the stress of the past couple of days. Confident he would wake if anything happened and trusting the others to come back soon he allowed himself to drift off.

-----

Patton awoke slowly to the feeling up fingers running through his messy hair, taking the time to gently brush out all the tangles of the previous day. He hummed happily and snuggled further into the tough, only to grunt in pain as his neck protested the action with a rather loud crack. Reality hit him all at once and he picked his head up to see Remus smiling tiredly down at him, Head wrapped neatly and already crooked nose set after what must have been the third or fourth break he had already suffered. Patton’s eyes filled with tears as he sat up and slowly reached for his husband, hands coming to rest on each cheek to make sure he was really there and alright. Smile tugging wider Remus brought his own hands up to rest on Patton’s, thumbs slowly running over the knuckles like he had done when Remus had been trapped.

“If I wouldn’t hurt you more and get hauled out by security I would slap you so hard for what you did.” In his tired state Patton honestly couldn’t think of anything better to say, but Remus only chuckled weakly and nodded.

“I love you too.”

Laughing softly with him Patton leaned forward to rest his forehead against Remus’ before pressing a featherlight kiss to the tip of his nose and softly whispered “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“I always am with you.”

Later a nurse would come in and smile at the two: Patton tucked under Remus’ chin and clutching onto his hands like a lifeline as they both slept. Quietly, he would turn out the light and shut the door, reassuring the people camping on the chairs outside that they were alright and they would sigh and shake their heads with amusement. The scolding could wait, they decided. For they would leave them to hold onto each other for as long as they needed.

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30 notes · View notes

scarlettriot · 2 years

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⭑ Updated 10/16/22 ⭑

| C H A P T E R • F I C S |

• I wish I could commit to a regular release schedule for my chapter pieces but it's just not in the cards right now. I have been putting a lot of time into She Lit a Fire, you can probably expect more updates to that fic coming soon. Thank you for sticking with me on these, you have no idea how much that means to me •

Breaking Point | College AU (the hockey AU) | Kirishima X Reader Starting college after a tragic event is hard to handle, as anyone would expect. It's why you mostly kept your head low and hung around by yourself. That didn't stop you from being a kind person though, offering your shower to the guy with bleach on his head when his roommates locked him out. A stranger that quickly wiggled his way into your life, and simultaneously, your heart.

Along For The Ride | Kirishima X Reader You accidentally marked that you'd be bringing a plus one to your snobby cousin's wedding and, rather than correcting the mistake, your best guy friend, Kiri, tells you he'd go with you if you don't have a S/O or a date by the time of the wedding. When that wedding gets moved up, you're out of time, and before you know it, you're traveling to America with Kiri... on a private jet no less...

She Lit A Fire | (the dad AU) | Kirishima X Reader In an effort to outrun your past you were sitting on a park bench one warm evening, taking a short break from job hunting. You were trying to get out of the hero life but that didn't take away those instincts when you saw a little girl in trouble and no one around to help. You went to her, helped her find her father, and parted ways shortly after. But, you hadn't been able to get either of them out of your head for a whole week. When a villain attack has you hurtling down a valley, wreckage from the train you'd been on tumbling around you, a Pro Hero rushes to your aid, but, you didn't recognize the hero, you only saw the man who'd been terrified he'd lost his daughter that day in the park.

| S E R I E S |

• My series consists of more than one piece under the same storyline, prompt, and/or theme. These works may have started out as one-shots and then I opted to add another part to them but don't intend on making them chapter fics •

🍒 Stood Up | X Reader 🔥 ALL A series in which a Reader is stood up from a date and a certain guy comes to the rescue. Disclaimer, I might be adding more characters to this in time but for right now, this is who you've got!

🍒 Poly Life | Bakugo X Reader X Kirishima 🔥

A small series about Reader’s life with her two partners and the ups and downs they come across along the way.

★ | Take You Home | Head Over Heels | ★

| O N E • S H O T S |

• One-shots are stand-alone fics that have over 1K word count •

🍓 Alone With You | Bakugo X Reader (BakuBirthday Fic) 🔥

🍓 Arrangements | Bakugo X Reader 🔥

🍓 Autumn Mornings | Kirishima X Reader (Kiri Bday Fic) 🔥

🍓 Birthday Spoils | Kirishima X Reader (Reader Bday Fic) 🔥

🍓 Birthday Surprises | Kirishima X Reader (Kiri Bday Fic) 🔥

🍓 Do More |once part of the Breaking Point Series| Kirishima X Reader 🔥

🍓 Faking It | Bakugo X Reader X Kirishima 🔥

🍓 Pajama Party | Mina X Bakugo X Kirishima X Reader 🔥

🍓 Quirked - 1920's Piece | In Time (Decades Theme) Collab | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

🍓 Take Him Seriously | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

🍓 Taken | Kirishima X Reader

🍓 Unconventional Means | Kirishima x Reader ft. Monoma 🔥

| D R A B B L E S |

• Drabbles are stand-alone fics that range from 500 - 1.5K words •

💋 Not Afraid | Kirishima X Reader

💋 Dealing with the Past | KiriBaku X Reader

💋 Eat Out | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

💋 Handle with Care | Kirishima X Reader

💋 Hearing Loss | BakuSquad + Midoriya

💋 HR Manager Kiri | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

💋 Late Night | Kirishima X Mina

💋 Making Sundaes | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

💋 Movie Nights | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

| T H I R S T S |

• Thirsts are quick fics or thoughts that are under 500 words •

❤️ Close Calls | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

❤️ Grind Time | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

❤️ Popcorn | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

| M Y • C O L L A B S |

• Collabs I have hosted/co-hosted •

💕 And They Were Roommates!

• all personal works on this blog belong to scarlettriot. Please do not repost my work anywhere, or claim my work as your own. Please do not share or recommend my work on TikTok or other similar platforms. Thank you.

#scarlettriot info ⭐️#just in case you're looking for something to read #mha fan fic #bnha fan fic #kirishima #bakugo #kaminari #sero #deku #midoriya #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #kirishima smut #bakugo smut #best red rock shark ♥️🦈#boomboomboi 💥

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jinmukangwrites · 2 years

Note

Eh I prefer cold sweet tea to coffee.. But how bout wild n hyrule going feral on a bad day :3

Send me a coffee rec and a character/pairing, and I'll attempt to write a ficlet in 10 minutes

I'm really liking this 10 minute timer I have myself on. I might keep it around for prompt and drabble fics from now on, lengthening it or shortening it depending on the situation.

“Wait, I’m confused. How did you survive that?” “I didn’t.”

-o-o-o-o-

Wild was getting tired of this. The endless hoard of monsters attacking left and right, witteling down their energy like Sky working on a carving.

He hated ambushes, and this was the second time in the past three days.

Beside him, Hyrule made a frustrated growl, knocking a moblin back with his shield and lifting a fingers. In a familiar move, Hyrule snapped, and lightning came from the sky. A good chunk of the monsters were instantly killed.

It wasn't enough, but it got Wild's blood pumping.

Hyrule wanted to show off huh? Two can play at that game.

Wild jumped off a ledge and pulled out a bow mid-air and aimed not one, but three bomb arrows as he fell. The arrows whizzed past with perfect accuracy, taking out his own portion of monsters. He glanced at Hyrule, and Hyrule glanced back. Fire danced in his eyes.

It's on.

"Oh Hylia," Twilight said somewhere behind them, recognizing what was about to commence.

And what commenced was awesome. For how tired of monsters Wild was, it still have him great satisfaction to just let loose with someone as strung up and tense as he was. Eventually, the other heroes backed off, watching the show as the monsters reached a manageable level for two eager heroes.

After Hyrule had somehow magically turned a bunch of monsters into harmless chu-chu's, Wild decided he wanted to finish this competition off with a bang.

He grabbed his slate then summoned the circular bomb and threw it at the remaining monsters. But, Hyrule—not noticing the bomb nor recognizing the danger—stepped towards the group with a glowing sword. It was already too late by the time Wild noticed his friend entering the blast zone. His thumb already pressed the activation button.

Hyrule was blown back by the explosion. But so were the monsters and the surrounding tree's. Some of the Links called out in horror as Hyrule disappeared under the wreckage, but Wild was already rushing forward with blood pumping in his ears.

The panic settled down to guilt when he found Hyrule pinned under a fallen tree, surrounded by dead monsters. Singed, scratched, but alive.

And laughing.

That guilt turned to relief.

"How did you survive that," Wild asked, already bending down to lift the fallen tree. Some of the others came to help, while Sky dragged Hyrule out by his armpits.

"I don't think I did," Hyrule chuckled through a groan at being maneuvered. A healing potion was already being shoved into his hands. "My ears are ringing."

"Maybe we should keep our competitive spirits in check next time," Time said, ever the party-pooper. Though amusement and relief flickered in his expression.

"No promises," Hyrule said, grinning, and Wild couldn't help himself but to match it.

#jin writes #linked universe #fanfiction #drabble fic #ask meme #ask #silverheartlugia2000

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incandescentsims · 3 years

Photo

Who’s ready for 31 days of Mermaids and even some Mermen?

It’s coming up to that time of the year again!

🧜‍♀️MerMay 2021

This year I decided to create my own prompt list!

Feel free to join in, I’d love to see how you interpret the prompts. You can do all of them or pick n' choose the ones that inspire you.

Have fun with them!

Tag #31 days of Merfolk 2021 or @ me for reblogs.

You can check out my MerMay edits from previous years HERE

Transcript under the cut:

incandescentsims #31 days of Merfolk

MerMay 2021

1. Tropical

2. Angelic

3. Fashionista

4. Star Wars

5. Rescued

6. Kawaii

7. Moonlight

8. Western

9. Mother’s Day

10. Scuba Diver

11. Bubbles

12. Skull

13. Wreckage

14. Romance

15. Lagoon

16. Pin Up

17. Lighthouse

18. Siren Song

19. Galaxy

20. Pirate

21. Treasure

22. Storm

23. Ancient Ruin

24. Royalty

25. Kissed

26. Waterfall

27. Sunset

28. Magical

29. Darkness

30. Rainbow

31. Mersona

#31 days of Merfolk 2021 #mermay #ts4 edit #sims 4 edit #ts4 #the sims 4 #posting super early for anyone who likes to plan ahead… like me

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set-phasers-to-whump · 2 years

Text

trapped under a collapsed building

prompt: trapped under a collapsed building (alt no.2)

whumpee: neal caffrey

fandom: white collar

hi! welcome to my final febuwhump fic!! this is loosely based off of an old thing that i wrote for whumptober back in 2019 except it’s much better lol. i hope you enjoy!!

It happens in the blink of an eye. One second, he’s pushing open the door to a storage room, about to peek in and see whether there’s anything unusual inside, and the next, there’s an absolutely deafening explosion, a loud cracking noise, and suddenly the ceiling is falling in on him.

He dives for cover, managing to slide under a table just as a huge length of broken pipe hits the ground where he’d been standing only a second before. He barely has time to process this before something huge and heavy crashes through the table and lands directly on top of him. Pain radiates through his entire body, and he passes out almost immediately.

He wakes up slowly, not entirely sure of where he is. Bits and pieces come back to him - an explosion, a crash, pain…

The pain is still there. As is the thing causing it. He’s lying on his stomach and can’t see it, but from what he can feel, it seems to be a huge chunk of concrete. It covers nearly his entire body, from his shoulders to the middle of his legs, and it’s extremely heavy. He tries to move it to no avail, coughing in the smoky air, tasting it on the back of his tongue.

Once he stops trying to free himself, he comes to the realization that he can’t feel his earpiece. He supposes it had probably come out when he’d fallen. He can’t see it anywhere, but nonetheless he shouts, “Peter!” as loudly as he’s able to, considering the pressure on his lungs and the scratchiness in his throat.

He continues yelling until his voice gives out, for lack of anything else to do. Nobody’s come in, he can’t hear anything that sounds like people, and he can’t move. He’s completely trapped, and completely alone. Everything hurts, but at the same time he’s beginning to feel a curious sort of numbness, which can’t possibly be good.

He stares up at the ceiling and wonders if this is how he’s going to die. He’d always figured that his death would be more…exciting. A con gone horribly wrong, an elegantly concocted revenge plot - that sort of thing. But here he is, pinned down by concrete in the middle of a collapsed building, nobody around and nothing to do except wait. He wonders where Peter is. Whether he’s going to come looking for him.

A few moments earlier

At the sound of an explosion, everyone in the van immediately jumps into action, pushing through the doors with their guns at the ready. A split second later, through his earpiece, Peter hears a cracking sound, a thump, a horrific crash, and then pure silence.

“Neal,” he says quietly, and sets off at a run, Jones and Diana close behind him.

He rounds a corner, and the building - or what’s left of it - comes into view. It’s almost completely collapsed. People are staggering out of the smoking rubble, running away, calling for help. He pushes through them like a fish swimming upstream. Behind him, he hears Diana shouting, taking control of the scene and directing people until emergency personnel arrive. He himself does not stop. He approaches the wreckage, and then realizes he has no idea where to start.

“Neal!” he shouts, because that seems like a good place to begin. “Neal!”

He’s not really expecting a response, and he doesn’t get one. Part of him insists that he should wait for the fire department to arrive. Another part of him insists that he needs to find Neal now - he could be hurt. He could be dead.

He can’t be dead, Peter thinks. He won’t let himself consider the possibility. He resolutely pushes further into the rubble, coughing in the thick, smoky air.

He walks around a corner of a partially-standing wall and just like that, Neal is there. He’s flat on his stomach and there’s a huge chunk of concrete pinning him down, but he’s moving.

“Neal!” he shouts again, hurrying to his CI’s side and dropping to his knees. Neal lifts his head to look at Peter. There’s a scrape down his cheek and tears in his eyes but he’s alive.

“Tried to move,” Neal says in a whisper. “‘S too heavy.”

“Let me try,” Peter offers, not wanting to waste any time in getting Neal free now that he’s found him. “We might be able to manage it together.”

By some miracle, the concrete isn’t as heavy as Peter had feared, and the two of them manage to lift it enough for Neal to scramble out from under it.

For a long moment afterwards, Neal simply lies on the ground, breathing heavily. Eventually, though, he sits up with a wince. “Everything hurts,” he mutters, raising a hand to his head. “What happened?”

“I don’t know yet,” Peter answers. The possibilities range from the innocuous to the criminal, from faulty gas lines to bombs. “Let’s just get you out of here, okay?”

Neal nods slowly, stopping rather quickly when the movement apparently makes his head hurt. Peter gets to his feet first, then reaches down and helps Neal up, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to keep him from falling when he begins to sway.

They stumble out of the wreckage together, carefully stepping around the debris, until at last they’re free. The fire department is on the scene now, escorting people to ambulances and moving into the building to free anyone else who’s been trapped. Peter guides Neal to an ambulance, and a few moments later he’s being looked over by a paramedic.

The diagnosis could be far worse - a mild concussion, two bruised ribs, a heavy dose of smoke inhalation, and plenty of assorted scrapes and bruises. The paramedic recommends a trip to the hospital to rule out any internal bleeding. Neal seems a bit put out at this suggestion, but Peter fixes him with a look and he gives his consent.

Surprisingly, the hospital visit takes very little time. Peter sits in the waiting room and calls El and then Jones and Diana, and by the time he’s done speaking to them Neal is back, leaning on a nurse and looking exhausted but fine.

“Doc says I’m good to go,” he reports, as Peter stands up to take over the nurse’s position. He gives her a quick glance to make sure Neal’s telling the truth, and she nods.

“You’ll just need to sign a bit of paperwork, and then you’re free to leave.”

The paperwork is simple, and within ten minutes they’re in a cab and on the way home. Neal leans his head against the window but keeps his eyes open, much to Peter’s relief - he doesn’t want to have to wake him when they arrive. For his part, Peter stares at Neal and tries not to think about how much worse everything could have been. What’s important is that Neal is okay. Everything else - at least for the moment - is secondary.

thanks for reading! i am so happy to be a febuwhump completionist for the second year! i had a lot of fun this month, and i hope you enjoyed whichever of my stories you happened to read. love you all so much!!

#febuwhump2022 #febuwhumpday28 #trapped under a collapsed building #white collar #neal caffrey #trapped #crushed #medical #can you believe i used to write in past tense? not that it can't work but oobh it did not do my own writing any favors #anyway i Know i can't be too hard on myself bc i was literally 16 but dude that old fic was so bad lmao #like the bones were there but hoo boy. nice to see i've improved i'll say #anyway thanks so much for reading this :) can't wait to (hopefully) do it again next year!

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raindrops-and-tubestops · 3 years

Note

Random prompts - KyaLin: 14. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t see that coming.”

Here you go Nonnie, I hope you enjoy! 💕

“Where is she?” Kya wasn’t wasting time.

The words were out of her mouth as soon as she ducked around the corner of the building. She crouched in front of the younger detective, waiting patiently for his his answer. She could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

Mako looked up in surprise, trying to find a frequency but getting only static from the radio on his hip. He had been pinned down at this corner for the better part of fifteen minutes.

How in the hell had Kya managed to get through?

As if wanting to answer his question, the Master Healer leant around the wall drawing water from the pouch at her hip. With a flick of her hands, that was probably more complicated than he was able to see, she sent a torrent of water out into the skirmish. He grinned as he heard screams and what sounded like bodies thudding against the stone of the street.

Looking back at him, she winked conspiratorially.

“Mako, honey,” she tried again, her voice softer, “where is she?”

He didn’t have to question who she was talking about. He could see the worry behind the blue eyes, all though anyone else only would have seen the determination. Kya needed to get to the Chief, Mako had a bad feeling about all this.

This whole debacle started twenty minutes before the end of shift. A call came over the emergency radio at the precinct that there was an attack on the new clinic just west of the new spirit portal. The Triads were trying to make a statement to the Chief of Police as well as the rest of the city.

They were able to establish a blockade before the fighting reached the inside of the clinic. The doors, front and back were barricaded. The patients and healers inside were safe, some were out here on the front lines working to heal the fallen officers, Kya included.

Mako swallowed, his throat dry and sticky, “The last I saw her, she was swinging on her cables in that direction.”

Kya followed his finger as it pointed across the street, landing on the roof tops of the alley way directly across from them. He watched her run through some things in her mind, maybe calculating the risks of crossing through the battle raging in the street.

As they peeked around the corner, it was clear there were no signs of either side stopping. There was fire flying through the air only to be intercepted by water from an unknown source, pieces of the street and the buildings rippled as they were manipulated by earthbenders from both sides.

Metal from nearby stalls and storefronts groaned as it was manipulated by officers, quickly shaping into flat sheets, encasing the wounded or protecting those volleying off counter attacks.

If she hadn’t been looking for it, she would have missed the shink of cables being released from their casing and subsequently Lin swinging across the street. She came to rest on the side of the clinic, one hand wrapped around the cables imbedded in the wall and the other gripping the hand hold she created on the brick.

Kya had a momentary flashback of when they were younger and Lin used to grip the walls of the Air Temple Island dormitories in the same manner…it never failed to freak her mother out. She chuckled quietly to herself, feeling the exact moment that Mako spied the Chief as well. The metalbender seemed to be looking for something, she was scanning the foray, clearly thinking she was up high enough to not be noticed.

But someone had noticed her…someone was silently curling a water tendril along the wall, not quite touching the stone. She wouldn’t be able to feel it.

Before Kya could call out, she watched as the tendril wrapped around Lin’s ankle, the look of shock on her face would have been comical in any other circumstance. The Chief was ripped from the side of the wall, disappearing from view behind a large pile of wreckage, her cables hanging lifeless, still attached to the wall.

The next thing Mako knew Kya was running, and then he was too, trying desperately to keep up with her impressive pace. He guessed it was the adrenaline and worry that made her so reckless, but at least he was there. The waterbender was able to doge most of the attacks flung her way as she rushed towards where the Chief was last seen, but Mako did fling the occasional blast of fire, he had to make sure she stayed safe at least.

Kya rounded the side of the wreckage where they had seen Lin disappear, tripping and landing in the water spread across the ground. She managed to keep her footing and pushed off the ground with the palm of her hands. She stopped short and if he hadn’t been paying attention, Mako would have slammed into the back of her.

The Chief was on the ground, lying extremely still..too still, the only thing that kept Kya from dropping to her knees was that she could see her chest rising and falling. Slowly, but it was a win nonetheless. Next to her, with a metal spike sticking out of their chest, was the waterbender Kya assumed had ambushed Lin. They weren’t moving, not even their chest.

Mako gripped her shoulder and brought her back to herself, the surroundings coming back into focus. They sprinted the rest of the way, Kya dropping to her knees next to Lin, barely registering the sting of her battered skin or the sound of Mako dragging the body away from them.

She pulled water from the flask at her hip and began to assess the younger woman’s injuries. A dislocated shoulder, a bruise on her right cheek discoloring the skin around her scars, a possible concussion…not sure how bad that was and two cracked ribs. She would be ok.

“Thank the spirits,” Kya mumbled, hanging her head in relief,

Mako was now crouched beside her, the blue glow of the healing water casting shows on all their faces. He would scan the surrounding area and then return his gaze to Kya and the Chief every so often.

Kya released the catches of Lin’s uniform, knowing just how unamused her wife was going to be when she regained consciousness and found herself in just her uniform pants and under tank. Kya stifled the absurd laugh that bubbled up, practically choking on it.

As the water was concentrated on her left side, the ribs, Kya could feel the awareness returning to her partner, her heartbeat picking up slightly. That was all the warning she got before Lin sat up, her forehead barely missing Kya’s.

“Whoa,” Kya intoned softly, Mako behind Lin instantly, offering her support, “take it easy Chief.”

Lin winced and moved to grab her head, her shoulder and ribs protesting violently.

“What the hell happened,” she groaned.

Kya was now focused on Lin’s head, trying to relive the pressure that was causing her partner to be slightly nauseous. The healer glared at the metalbender, Mako cowered in sympathy.

“Lin, what was Aunt Suki’s main rule in combat?”

The Chief looked at Kya in confusion, whether from the change in topic or from the head injury, Mako wasn’t sure.

The glare deepened, “What was it Lin?”

The anger in Kya’s voice immediately snapped the metalbender out of her daze. They connected eyes, snapping blue to sheepish green, and Lin was reminded of all the times she had seen those eyes. Most notably when they were caught sneaking back onto the island as children and when she did something particularly stupid. Kya may have taken after Uncle Aang in the Air Nomad sense, but her temper was all Aunt Katara.

“Keep track of your surroundings,” Lin sighed as the pressure in her head finally lifted.

“Yes Lin,” Kya continued, voice hard as she moved to the shoulder, “and what didn’t you do?”

Lin followed the movements and relented, “Keep track of my surroundings.”

Mako stifled a chuckled at the clearly admonished Chief…they needed to bring in Master Kya more often he thought.

Kya huffed, “Exactly, now this is going to hurt.”

As soon as she gave the warning Lin grit her teeth, sucking in a breath as Kya quickly reset the joint. The pop making Lin sick to her stomach, the searing pain keeping her from losing it completely. The ache was soon replaced by the cool feel of the healing water, a relief that Lin didn’t know she needed.

“I had the situation under control,” she bit out.

Kya went still, eyebrow raised in a challenge, and Lin had the good sense to back down slightly.

“Before or after that waterbender plucked you off the side of the building like a ripe moon peach?”

The Chief’s cheeks colored slightly, as she looked down at her lap. She started when she realized she was no longer wearing her uniform. The glare directed towards Kya was one for the books, she was not pleased.

Kya huffed indignantly, she could really give a shit right now.

Lin leant forward, taking some of her weight off Mako as the detective went to stand. She nodded towards the boy, a quiet thanks that he returned as he settled into a cautious stance.

“Okay, so maybe I didn’t see that coming,” Lin relented.

Kya didn’t respond, just kept to her task, working to heal her wife. She was furious…and scared, Lin could sense the residual adrenaline in Kya’s system.

She inclined her head, trying to catch her wife’s eyes as she worked on the shoulder joint. When Kya finally gave in and looked up, Lin could see the sheen of tears just along the water line of her lashes. She cursed herself.

Lin leant forward and cupped the back of Kya’s head, their foreheads connecting, the air between them charged with emotion. She could feel Kya shaking, everything in the last hour finally catching up with her.

“I’m ok,” she reassured the healer, her voice gentle, “I’m sorry and I’m ok.”

Their lips met tentatively, soft at first but slowly growing desperate. The need to feel, to know that each other was alright, winning out over decorum. Mako turned slightly, giving them as much privacy as their situation could allow.

New Prompt List 💜

PS: the prompts can be original too 😊

#kyalin fanfic #kyalin #kya ll #kya x lin #lin beifong #lin beifong x kya #avatar the legend of korra #the legend of korra #my fanfic #prompts 💜

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albino-whumpee · 3 years

Text

Introduction

Superhero whump for practice and to set me into a writing mood again. Or a creating mood again. Idk anymore. Hope you like it! Also to fill my @badthingshappenbingo card, with prompt “pinned by wreckage”

This is a series

Masterlist

CW// blood, villain whumpee, superhero caretaker, gruff caretaker, enemies to friends?, murder mention, dub con bondage, impaled limb, defiant whumpee, field medicine and captivity.

Among the gravel and devastation, someone sweated the big drop just trying to get to someone. The quiet was made of the crackling fire and rocks sliding under their step; their “friends” long gone to be celebrated for their did. After years of endless, tiresome battles, they had brought Villain down.

However the hero that had turned off the microphone on the collar around their neck wasn’t sure their team had been heroic at all.

Villain had self destructed after being surrounded without escape. Fearing what they might do with them once captured, they blew up their whole base. Or that’s what the leader told the rest.

Hero spent hours after dawn searching. Digging and clinging to any little sound. After a few hours of smelling nothing but dust and their own blood, they found them. The hero’s breathing slowed looking at villain so utterly defenseless, dirty with blood pooling below them because of how a piece of the fallen building impaled one of their arms, and still somehow, when Hero got closer, was able to pull a scowl.

“Don’t get any closer, hero…” they said between laboured pants.

“Can you stop me?” They stepped forward regardless of their hissing. Hero was slightly amused of Villain recoiling their legs closer, away from their reach. “You lost, Villain”

Their eyes widened before pressing their lips into a tight line “Not yet, I… Im not yet-º

“There’s nothing left. It’s done” they cut them off, now towering over them. “And if you don’t treat that arm you will be done for, too”

“What?” Villain blurted out as Hero placed their hands over the metal structure “The hell are you doing?! Get off!” They screamed throwing weak punches at Hero’s legs and shins. They pushed with all their strength, grunting under their breath and panting harder before wheezing out of the effort. A few drips of blood stained hero’s boots “You’re not taking me to lock me up. That’s. Not. Happening.” they snarled with the fury of a wild animal that’s desperately fighting to get off a hunter’s trap. “Not when I was so close… I won’t let that happen!”

Hero looked from above at the pitiful image of their enemy trying to pointlessly push them away while taking their last breaths.

“They told me to leave you to die” Hero admitted suddenly. Catching villain off guard and throwing them off enough to make them look up at them in surprise. “If I found you alive, they told me to kill you slowly. If I found you half dead, to watch and bring your corpse” Hero’s dark eyes usually had a gleam Villain despised. But hopefulness wasn’t on the eyes that looked down on the dirty villain before them. Both of them knew that but Villain sighed a harsh breath.

After a long moment, Villain kept their eyes trained down, they spoke in a weak voice “They said I…ah, deserved that, didn’t they?”

“Yes”

Villain stilled and their bleeding arm tensed up, blood speeding down at the pressure before Villain released with a whimper. Their voice was empty and completely uncharacteristic of the Villain they knew “Maybe you should listen to them”

“Maybe” the hero said placing their hands over the metal again, firmly buckling their elbows in preparation “But if we’re done dealing with you I can choose for myself” they continued at the same time they freed their arm and Villain cried out.

Villain cradled their injured arm close, losing energy by the second and already tired out from the previous battle, Hero didn’t have to use their super strength to treat their injuries with the medical glue. An sticky white material that was applied with a gun and acted as a plug to stop the bleeding on deep injuries. They had pierced their arm in two sections, forearm and triceps, too close to the center and maybe too dangerous to have only the glue working when Villain was that pale from blood loss. They had to get somewhere else and get better treatment.

But Villain made one last effort to avoid their fate being suddenly placed on Hero’s hands, trying to jump away and falling into a pit filled with water from a busted out pipe. They crawled. Or tried to, but they had no more energy to lift themselves up the ground. Consciousness slipping, they felt themselves get scooped up, a warmth they despised, firmly against their cheek as the world turned white around the edges.

In Hero’s back, with the sway of their trot over the remains of their base, Villain cried helplessly. After so long, it was really over. Them and their work and everything they longed for was…gone. They could see the devastation beyond the ruins. They knew they were no saint, but now after losing, had it been worth it? All the sacrifices made?

They had dreams they took a long, long time to even imagine them. Much more setting them into motion. But they weren’t on the side that get their dreams realized, were they?

“Why?” Villain suddenly asked as Hero was getting back to their airship hidden in the woods, now just a few dead branches from the aftershock of the buildings collapsing.

“Why what?”

Villain couldn’t even find it in them to open their eyes. No energy left to fight either. There was no point now “You’re a…special kind of naive for…helping me when you’re killing me anyways” they said, controlling their breathing to not give out how tired they were. Hero probably already knew, anyways, by how they hanged limp on their back.

“Im not killing you”

“Same thing as locking me up” Hero stayed quiet a second. The sound of their boots crunching the dirt and loose branches didn’t stop.

“I won’t do that either”

Villain laughed wryly “Not just naive but stupid too”

“Guess stupid people stick together” Hero stopped a second to readjust their grip on Villain. A careful hop that let their head rest against their broad back, before they continued and Villain heard the engine of the airship.

“Dunno, your squad isn’t here…” Villain’s stomach churned at the frustration of getting carried into their enemy’s ship, hopelessly under their mercy. Just about to fill every nightmare they had relentlessly tried to avoid. But there was something about the way Hero laughed as they carefully laid them on the bed with nylon belts that ignited a doubt, a little spark of hope that Villain shoved down. In a situation like that hope didn’t have room anymore.

“I wasn’t talking about them” Hero said before eyeing the belts and sighing. Trouble noticeable in their face before deciding to speak again “We will fly to get you help but I need you to be still. I’m sorry but I’ll have to restrain you”

Villain snorted and gave a breathy laugh that ended in them pressing their mouth shut trying to cover the wince of pain from moving their arm. “Your lot never asked before” Villain shakily crossed their arms over their chest, and a dark thought tingled on Hero’s mind. Villain seemed to know exactly how the restraints of the airship worked already. They had never managed to capture them so why..? Villain panted harder and Hero pulled their attention on cinching the belts around them. Over their legs and the three over their chest, careful of the injured arm and passing one over their forehead. They were leaving to the cabin, when Villain talked again. “Neck. You forgot”

“My, you’re chattier than I thought” Hero said not moving an inch to buckle the belt over their neck. Villain opened their eyes and looked up at the metal ceiling, unable to turn or toss their head around. Only barely able to recline their head back a little. Honestly surprised to not been muzzled already.

They smiled at the inverted image of Hero “Just enjoying freedom as long as I can”

“Im not- “ Hero rubbed their temples before sighing long “We will talk about this later, but You can be sure of something, Villain” Hero said walking to the pilot seat and retracting the wheels as they heard the other take a deep breath and wince because of the constriction if the belts. As Hero’s ship went up and prepared for quick transport they added “I’m not giving up on you. Everyone can change”

Villain felt the pull on their stomach they knew so well and closed their eyes. Focusing on keeping an steady breath to not give in to panic.

“We’ll see about that”

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