#dents run covered bridge | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yunggoblin · 1 year

Text

Warm Pie - Crowley (18+)

Pairing: Crowley x Female!Reader

Summary: Coming home from a three day hunt Dean finds that his pie has been fucked with, literally. You make two fresh pies, only to catch the person who’s been destroying the pies with his dick later that night.

Warnings: 18+, Cussing, Smut, Pie Fucking, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2,657

You walked inside of the bunker, exhausted, worn out and sore from a three day hunt, taking out a vampire’s nest. You always try to remind yourself that hunting isn’t always fun and games, sure it has its ups like saving people. Then there was the down side about it, it didn’t put money in your pocket and you weren’t getting any younger as the years rolled by. You sighed tiredly, sliding the heavy backpack full of clothes off your shoulders. Shuffling down the hallway, leaving a trail of your items behind you heard Sam huffed.

“Really, Y/N? You can’t hang your things up?“ Sam questioned as he grabbed the bag that was randomly lying in the middle of the room and hung it up.

You twirled around at your older brother. "I’m tired, I’m covered in vampire blood from head to toe.” You hissed, after staying up for three days and two nights you were in no mood to be lectured at. “Samuel.” You strictly said, pinching the bridge of your nose and eyes closed. Taking a deep breath before you speak. “I would like to relax for once, just an hour or so.” You gritted your teeth, obviously cranky from lack of sleep from the past three days. “Now please, stop complaining. I’ll clean my mess up when I get done from the shower.” You turned around making your way towards your room.

Once you made your way into the bathroom and stripped out of the bloody clothing you stepped into the steamy hot shower. Sighing softly in relaxation and letting the water run down your body, you couldn’t help but feeling you were being watched. You gripped the curtain and quickly poked your head out to see no one in sight, just the steam fogging up the mirror and swirling around the bathroom getting sucked up by the blowing vent. Shrugging your shoulders you went back to taking your shower and scrubbing off the redness of the blood from your body.

”Y/N!“ You heard your name being called as you made your way down the hallway towards the kitchen.

“What’s up, Dean?” You asked as you wrapped a towel around your head, having your damp hair up. You got dressed into some fresh pajamas after your steaming hot shower. Your feet pitter pattered into the kitchen, glad to not be wearing bulky boots.

"Did you do this?“ Dean asked angrily, pointing towards the table. Your eyes made their way towards the pie that had a hole in the middle of it and was a bit sloppy along with two slight dented circles below the large hole.

You arched an eyebrow wondering what happened to the poor apple pie. Your mind instantly thought of that one scene from American Pie only to have you bursting out laughing. "One of you boys get lonely over the nights?” You teased, placing your hand over your mouth snickering.

"It’s not funny! Who would do this to a poor pie!?“ Dean pouted and crossed his arms. "Sam, did you do this?” Dean snapped dark eyes darting towards his youngest brother.

Sam quickly placed his hands up in self defense. “I didn’t do it.” Sam quickly said.

"And I don’t have a dick to do that.“ You laughed at the deformed pie in the middle of the table. "Plus, it would make more sense if it was you, you sure it wasn’t you who did this?” You questioned. “You’re the one who loves pie so damn much.” You grinned. “Was it like this when you bought it?”

"I might love pie, but not so much to fuck it!“ Dean snapped, making you burst out laughing. “No it wasn’t like this when I bought it!” Dean frowned, upset that someone assaulted the dessert. “I bought it before we went on our hunt and it was in the fridge the whole time.” A frown was settled upon Dean’s lips.

"Maybe Castiel was confused and did it.” You shrugged. “Dean I’ll make you another pie, so stop your whining.” You said going towards the covers and pulling out the ingredients for the pie. You pulled out cherries to make a different flavor this time. “But it’s going to be after dinner tomorrow, I’m going to bed soon.” You said, yawning with a stretch. You felt bad for Dean not getting a delicious dessert after a long hunt but you were tired and wanted to rest before doing anything else.

Dean huffed and crossed his arms. “Fine, I don’t care as long as I get my pie.” He muttered and with that, the three of you said ‘good night’ and headed in different directions of the bunker and went to your rooms.

The next day came rolling by. You pulled out the freshly baked cherry pies, placing them both on top of the stove waiting for them to cool off. Quickly slapping Dean’s hand away as he tries to dip his fingers in the hot crust to get a taste.

"Dinner first, Dean-O.“ You smiled. "Okay, so I made two pies this time if one gets destroyed.” You laughed softly and looked at him. “But, what I don’t get is who would want to fuck a pie?” You questioned not getting the full concept of the point of doing it. “Does it feel good or something?” You questioned realizing the pink shade on Dean’s cheeks.

"Well uh, (Y/N). They say the only thing that you can compare pussy to is well… Warm pie.“ He coughed out awkwardly which made your cheeks quickly heat up.

"Oh, wow. Uh, that is very awkward.” You said trying to laugh it off. He nodded and Sam came in with burgers he had got from the nearest food joint.

"Awesome, dinner time.“ Dean smiled and quickly chowed down his thick burger from his favorite restaurant so he could get a piece of pie.

You took bites and slowly chewed the burger, staring at the wall still trying to figure out why anyone would thrust their dick into a warm pie, were they really desperate and who in the hell was it? Sam, Dean or Castiel? One of them was lying but another was too embarrassed to admit it. You slowly swallowed the food and realized that someone was calling your name.

"Huh?” You asked confused after being pulled out of your thoughts. You saw Dean by the pies ready to dig into one of them, fork in hand. “Yeah, go ahead.” You said and wrapped your sandwich up, not even eating half of it. Sam noticed and frowned towards you.

"You okay?“ Sam questioned you.

Nodding with a response. "Yeah, just tired.” Lie. You were quite disturbed about the pie from last night that you didn’t even want a piece. “I’m going to head to bed.” You announced and made your way towards the door. “Enjoy the dick flavored pie.” You joked about making Dean gag.

"That’s not funny!“ Dean exclaimed.

You rolled over on your back sighing heavily, staring up at the white ceiling above you. You were tired but not tired enough to fall asleep. Turning your head slightly to see the red lines on the clock that made up numbers ‘2:36 a.m’. You sighed once more and rolled over on your side, closing your eyes trying to force yourself to fall asleep.

You quickly jolted up as you heard something in the kitchen, your eyes darted towards the clock. 2:45 a.m. You quickly slipped on your pink fluffy slippers and grabbed your knife that was wedged between your mattresses and box spring. Slipping past the door and tip toeing your way down the hall towards the dark kitchen. Cold sweat ran through your body as your heart was beating out of your chest. You couldn’t control your shaky breath as you exhaled. You knew Sam and Dean were asleep, after pie, a good food joint and beers in their stomach they were out cold for the night.

"Oh fuck.” You heard a low voice grunt out. You stopped walking towards the kitchen, your face heating up realizing what it was. Soon sloppy thrusting was echoing throughout the kitchen. This was your chance to catch the pie fucker. You leaned against the door frame, knife in hand ready to strike if something goes wrong.

"Fuck baby, just like that.“ You heard a moan escaping the stranger’s lips.

"Is that better than pussy?” You teased, flickering on the kitchen lights to finally see who it was. Your eyes widen to see The King Of Hell, his black dress pants wrapped around his ankles, leaning up against the counter, left hand gripping the edge of the counter, right hand on the back of the pie pan, cock buried deep in the cherry pie. There stood the King himself, speechless to see the youngest Winchester that caught him red handed.

"I uh.” He paused for a moment only to swallow the lump in his throat. “I can explain.“ Crowley’s thick voice was rough from the lust, his accent deeper.

You blushed at the sight of him, who knew that he was the one who did it. "You’re the King of Hell and you choose to have a warm cherry pie to fuck other than these female demons who would be more than glad to be on your cock?” You questioned. Crowley was still standing there, not knowing what to say. Now both of his hands are on the back of the pie pan, cock still balls deep in the pie.

"So tell me,“ You begin and place the knife down on the table, eyes still on the demon. "why do it?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side.

"Really, is it not noticeable? I’m doing it to mess with Dean.“ He flashed a smirk. "He loves pie, what’s the best thing to piss him off? Fuck with his pie, literally.” He blushed under his beard and looked down at the pie and back up at you. “I apologize for you seeing me like this.” He said, clearing his throat. “I thought everyone was asleep.” With a snap of his fingers, he was cleaned up and the destroyed pie was on the table. There were holes from where his cock had been penetrating into and the perfect crust smashed into the bottom of the pan.

You flashed a smile and walked towards the pie and dipping your fingers into it and took them out, up towards your lips and suckled on them, your tongue dragging along the cherry pie filling that was covering your digits. You could hear Crowley’s breath hitch in his throat. “Hmm, tastes even sweeter.” You flashed him a smirk. The demon gulped. You noticed his black pants that were now around his waist beginning to tighten as his cock began to get hard, pitching a tent. You eyed back up at him, smirk still on your lips.

“So, if you’d like you can bury your cock in something else.” You wink and with that Crowley took as an invite. “I don’t know if it’ll be sweet as pie” You teased him only for the demon to be in front of you in a blink of an eye, gripping the back of your neck and forcing you to be bent over the table. He tugged down your pajama pants and panties, exposing your ass. He growled, noticing the wetness in your panties.

"So wet for me hmm?“ He growled, the hand behind your neck leaving to cup your cunt from behind, your lips being a perfect display.

"Obviously, the sight of you thrusting your hips. Lovely view.” You giggled and quickly gasped out a moan as his hand came down, slapping your exposed cunt.

“Be a good little girl and behave.“ He demanded making you nod your head ‘yes’, quickly. You heard him fiddling with his belt and soon heard his pants drop to the ground just. He placed the head of his cock against your wet folds only to push his head in and put out in a teasing manner. “Feels so good, darling.”

You cried out clawing at the table, arching your back trying to push your hips back against him as he did it again. "Crowley, pleas-” That was when he roughly pushed in, no warning, no nothing. “Oh fuck!” You whimpered. He quickly snaked his hand to your mouth and covered it.

"Don’t want to wake your brothers, now do we love?“ He grunted in between thrusts. You could have sworn he was going to break the table by the way he thrust into you the right way, quick and swift thrusts snapped against your ass as he pumped inside of you faster.

He slowly moved his hand away and gripped your hips and shoved his whole length in more. "Oh god I’m going to come!” You whimpered out. He wrapped his fingers in your hair, roughly tugging at it making your head lean back.

"You’ll come when I say to come” He growled lowly. His thrust picking up makes the wooden table underneath you squeak. The legs of the table gave a screech as it went across the kitchen floor. With every thrust he got a moan out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He muttered as he planted kisses on your shoulder blade, the way his lips fluttered against your skin and his beard scratching your shoulder ad you shaking.

Your cunt squeezed around Crowley’s cock as he dragged his dick out from your tight channel and pushed back in, the wet suction of your pussy echoing in the kitchen. “C- Crowley, your cock-” You choked out trying to tell him how good he felt inside of you but your mind was nearly fried from the lust and attention he was giving you.

“Oh, I know love.” Crowley said a bit too cockily, he indeed sold his soul to get a few inches below the belt and lucky for him it stayed like that even becoming the King of Hell.

“Fuck, Y/N. I can feel your fucking cunt fluttering around my cock.” Crowley grunted admiring the scene in front of him as his cock disappeared inside of your cunt from behind. He watched as you let out soft sobs and silent moans so your brothers wouldn’t rush in to see what all the commotion was. Crowley smirked not knowing what Dean would be pissed more about, finding out Crowley was fucking his little sister or his pies.

“Go ahead little girl, come, come all over my cock. Soak my cock with your sweet juices.” Crowley demanded, gripping your waists tightly as he started to jack hammer his hips roughly, his cock full force pushing in and pulling out of your velvet like cunt. Your loud moans had him glancing towards the kitchen door, worried that the older Winchesters would be running in.

“Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes.” You chanted. “Crowley!” You cried out as your walls tightened and the coil in your lower belly snapped as you came undone on his thick cock.

Crowley was panted heavily behind you, stilling his hips as he grunted out a moan while his creamy come squirted inside your sopping wet pussy. Crowley exhaled a breath as he leaned forward, his forehead resting on her back as they stayed there for a few seconds collecting your breaths.

“That was the best I’ve had in well, let's say a very long time.“ Crowley chuckled lowly and slowly slid out of your pussy, he admired the mixed juices flowing out of your spazzing fucked pussy. You stood up and pulled up your pajama pants and panties up, having his come dribble out onto your panties.

"Better than warm pie?” You turned around, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, he was already dressed and a smirk on his face as you mentioned the pie.

"Better than warm pie.“ He confirmed.

#crowley #crowley x reader #crowley x you #crowley x y/n #supernatural #supernatural crowley #mark sheppard smut #supernatural smut #crowley smut #crowley one shot #crowley supernatural #crowley x reader smut #share #feedback #supernatural stories #spn stories #spn one shot

78 notes · View notes

janetbrown711 · 1 year

Text

The World is Not a Nice Place (to those of us who breathe)

Pigsy has a pretty good gig for himself: a nice little restaurant, a cute regular customer (who's name he keeps forgetting to ask), and a place to call his own. However, his life changes forever when two orphans hide out in his storage closet to hide from the police.

AKA Pigsy adopts MK and Mei as kids AU <333 This will be a whole series, so prepare for a lot of cute dadsy content and lil Mei and MK (as well as some divine intervention bc why not).

Part 1 Part 2

Ao3 Link

Pigsy was the proud owner of a little noodle shop his grandma helped him set up called “Pigsy’s Noodles'' and it was his pride and joy. He’d been running it alone for two years now after a teenage and young twenties-hood of running around, getting into fights, and getting severely traumatized with his best friend. It was his grandmother’s suggestion when Sandy threw in the towel leaving Pigsy aimless, and he couldn’t thank her enough for it.

It was different without her around, certainly not any easier, but being a local business in a city that was only being more commercialized by the second gave his place an identity and authenticity no chain restaurant could ever replicate, so business was stable.

Sure, he didn’t exactly live a life of luxury, but his studio apartment above the restaurant was all he needed. He was a pig of the simple life, according to his grandma anyways.

That didn’t mean he didn’t miss the chaos and Sandy, whom he hadn’t seen since… well.. a while, but that didn’t mean he was completely alone. He had this one regular who came in to work on his capstone for his masters and applications for doctorate programs who was kinda funny and cute and smart. Granted, he rarely ever paid his tab, but Pigsy liked listening to him ramble about the Legends of Sun Wukong, so that kind of made up for it.

If only Pigsy could ever remember to actually ask for his name.

Today was going to be a slow day, Pigsy knew that. Grey storm clouds covered the sky, giving the city an almost haunted feeling. It would probably rain soon enough too, so any hopes of foot traffic were dashed. His regular was still there, of course, but something was off with him too. He was quiet, reading something on his laptop with a worried brow, which worried Pigsy too.

“You– uh– readin’ the news?” Pigsy asked, drying a glass off with a towel to mask his concern.

“Yeah– there was a huge fire last night. You know that ancient ancestral home to the descendants of the White Horse Dragon?”

Pigsy nodded.

“It burned down, as well as an apartment complex nearby,” The regular turned his laptop around to show the chef. Pigsy got a good glance at it before cringing.

“Yeesh– is everyone okay?” He asked. The semi-stranger shook his head.

“The owners are both confirmed to have died, but no one can find their daughter, and there are at least ten dead from the apartment fire,” he turned his laptop back around.

“Dang, how old is she?” Pigsy asked, setting the glass down.

“Seven, I think.”

Goddamn.

“Hope the kid’s okay,” Pigsy looked out the window, staring at the neon glow of his sign against the dull gray sky.

He should probably close.

“Hey um– you got any more dissertation writing to do today? I’m thinkin’ about closing early” Pigsy asked.

The man sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses up as he did. “I don’t know if I can focus on that, but I know I can’t really go home– it reeks of smoke since I live a block down from all that.”

“O-oh, right, yeah– uhm… feel free to stay as long as you need then, I won’t close til you’re all good,” Pigsy blushed, thinking about how stupid that idea was.

The stranger gave him a soft smile. “Thanks.”

“Ah, no problem– so long as you actually make a dent in that tab of yours,” Pigsy tried to tease but got something in his throat halfway through that made him cough and therefore sound like a flustered idiot.

The stranger laughed a little and went back to his laptop, while Pigsy went to clean the grill, desperate to scrape away his embarrassment.

Almost twenty eight and he was out here blushing like a piglet.

The pair were silent again for a while, except for the occasional siren or two as police drove down the street, which was hardly an unusual sound for Megapolis. However, after a bit of this, Pigsy and the customer both jumped when they heard pots and pans crash to the floor in the back.

“Was that a rat?” The man asked.

“No-! That’s ridiculous-!” Pigsy defended, his face red as a tomato. “I’ll go check it out– I swear this place is sanitary,” Pigsy quickly turned off the grill, grabbed a broom and prayed he was right.

He went back to the back of the restaurant, frowning when he saw the back door was open, though only a crack. With a sigh, he went and shut it, sure to click the lock this time and now really really praying there wasn’t a rat or any other pests.

“Anyone in here?” He called out. He wasn’t exactly shocked when there wasn’t a response, but as he got closer to the storage closet, he could swear he heard something shuffling– probably an animal like he suspected (he was usually so vigilant about the door dammit– this was so stupid). Now holding the broom like a weapon, he approached the closet door carefully and quietly, listening to more shuffling before quickly grabbing the doorknob and flinging the door open, causing two shrieks of children to ring out.

“Pleasepleaseplease dont’t hurt us-!”A little boy cried out, shielding his friend– a girl– with his arms and trembling.

Kids??? What the fuck were kids doing here???

Quickly, Pigsy flicked on the lightswitch and set the broom down.

“What’re you two doing here? This is a private business and I don’t–” Pigsy was going to lecture more but noticed the girl who was crying a lot and looked oddly familiar.

“S-sorry, Mister, w-we didn’t know– we’re sorry about the pot i-it’s just–” The boy apologized but the girl interrupted.

“I-i didn’t mean to do it, I-i was just trying to c-clean a-and– a-a-and n-n-now m-mom n’ d-dad are– a-a-are– a-and so we just– and then the cops– a-a-and–” The girl couldn’t get through her sentence before choking on her tears.

Wait a minute…

Holy shit.

“You’re the missing dragon girl, aren’t you?” Pigsy knelt down. The girl nodded her head as she hugged her knees close to her chest.

“D-don’t tell anyone, please,” The boy pleaded. “ ‘specially the cops, they’re spooky.”

Pigsy snorted. “Yeah I know that, but you can’t just hide here kiddo, people are looking for you– maybe even your family.”

“MK’s my family, I don’t have anyone else,” The girl sniffled. “A-and those guys are scary, th-their eyes are all red.”

“Red eyes? Kid, I know cops are bastards, but they don’t have–” Pigsy stopped to think for five seconds before suddenly getting very, very worried.

Demons.

“Look, I won’t tell anyone you’re here, but how’s about you move to the kitchen where I can keep a better eye on you two, okay?” He said, looking over his shoulder at the backdoor. As the kids nodded and slowly stood up, he grabbed the padlock on the high shelf and put it around the back door for extra security, before going back to the kids, who were watching nervously.

“Look uh– just keep your heads low and stay behind the bar, there should be some room for you two if I shift some boxes around,” Pigsy scratched his head and went out to the kitchen, but the kids didn’t follow him.

“Everything okay back there?” His regular asked, lowering the lid of his laptop.

“Y-yeah-! Yeah, just– um… keep studying,” He smiled nervously. The semi-stranger gave him a curious look before raising the lid and getting back to work. He quickly went back and found the kids still standing in the doorway of the storage closet looking down.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you two?” Pigsy asked softly. The girl pulled on her long black hair nervously and sniffled.

“I-i’m scared they’ll see us,” She confessed.

Pigsy immediately got on one knee and placed a hand on her and the boy– MK–’s shoulder. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you two, okay? You have my word.”

The kids exchanged weary glances before nodding. Pigsy gave them a weak smile before standing, reminding them to stay low before leading them out to the kitchen where they remained creeping low, but not before the regular saw them.

“Um… hi,” His customer gave a wave to MK and the girl, who froze.

“It’s okay kiddos, he’s a–” Pigsy glanced at him.

“A friend,” The man finished his sentence for him, which made Pigsy blush a little.

“Oh– hi-!” MK waved a little before getting on his knees and hiding under the bar like Pigsy instructed, which the girl shortly followed.

“Mind telling me why you have kids hiding under your bar?” The scholar teased a little.

“Ah– well uh–” he glanced down at the pair, who were having a silent conversation with hand signals he didn’t know.

“There’s some trouble stirring up right now and they needed somewhere safe to stay so I figured why not keep ‘em in my line of sight, you know?” He shrugged at the half-truth.

“Oh, that’s really sweet of you,” The man said with a smile, going back to his laptop so he didn’t notice Pigsy’s face turning dark red once more before he turned around and got back to cleaning.

After a while of casual silence, Pigsy heard the bell ring and muttered to himself when he heard them say “Megapolis Police, we’re here looking for a little girl, Mei Dragon. She’s long black hair and was last seen in a green jacket with white shorts and sneakers.”

“You see any kids here?” Pigsy scoffed as he scraped off the fond from a pot.

“Look here, wise guy, we’re gonna search this place whether you like it or not,” One of them snarled, but Pigsy just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” He said, setting the pot down to dry while picking up an iron skillet. One of the cops– a slightly smaller but still plenty muscular one– eyed him.

“This’ll be quick anyways,” The officer said.

“Better be, or else you’re gonna scare off my customers,” He crossed his arms and stood in front of the cupboard where the kids were hiding. He glanced at his regular, who seemed just as annoyed at the presence of police as he was.

The officers huffed and began snooping around, looking under tables and in the bathrooms, getting huffier the more and more they didn’t find the girl– Mei.

Man, Pigsy was really bad about asking for names.

When the cops went to the back, Pigsy heard the girl start crying again. Pigsy bit his cheek before crouching down again and asking what the matter was.

"S-sorry, Mr. Piggy, I-I don't know why– I-i just keep–"

"Hey, it's okay kid, you just gotta be quiet for a little bit longer and then the scary guys will leave and we can find you somewhere a lot safer to be, okay?"

The girl rubbed her eyes with her jacket sleeve and nodded, which was when Pigsy noticed her eyes were glowing emerald green.

So uh… that was interesting.

"Does she normally…?" He turned to MK who nodded.

Alrighty then.

“Hey– there’s the dragon brat-!” One of the cops shouted from the doorway to the back.

Shit.

“Yeah well if you want her, you’re gonna have to go through me,” Pigsy huffed, gripping the pan and going into a fighting stance. Just like that, the cops shed their skins to reveal they were actually just a massive tiger and the larger one leapt towards Pigsy, who knocked him as hard as he could in the jaw with the skillet, sending him into the grill.

“Woah-!” The girl watched in awe, bringing Pigsy way back.

“Oh my stars– Are you okay-?!” The regular closed his laptop and shoved it into his bag frantically.

“You good at running?” Pigsy asked as the smaller one jumped to attack, but he whacked them away too.

“Can be under pressure-!” The man quickly slid his bag around his shoulder.

“Great– take the kids and run,” Pigsy said, taking MK’s arm and pulling him out of the hiding spot before placing him on top of the bar, then doing the same with Mei.

“Right uh– Let’s get going then-!” He said, helping the kids jump down as the bigger tiger demon got up and tried jumping towards Mei, but Pigsy got a hold of his neck and was able to hold him back and thankfully the kids and sexy customer were able to get out. However, he must not have hit the second guy hard enough because he was back and instantly tackled Pigsy to the ground and gave him a nasty gash in his shoulder with his claw, tearing through his chef’s shirt. Pigsy was able to kick the guy off of him, and when he saw the bigger guy was making a run for it, he grabbed the nearest bottle of rice vinegar and threw it at him, which shattered against his head on impact.

“Ha-! Take that ya bastard-!” Pigsy was pleasantly surprised his aim was still good, especially with his arm stinging severely from the previously mentioned gash.

“Alright, piggy, you wanna do this?” The tiger turned away from the entrance.

Ah, fuck– Where’s Sandy when you need him?

He hit the smaller in the face with the skillet again, before having to duck to avoid the bigger one leaping at him once again. Thankfully, his size and strength failed him when he overestimated how much power to put into that and he went crashing straight through the wall (which was not good for Pigsy’s bills, but priorities).

Jiangjun– we need the dragon, not the bacon,” The smaller tiger growled and stood.

“You were the ones pretending to be cops,” Pigsy growled and leaned against the bar, trying not to wince in pain.

“This is a mercy, Pig Man,” The big demon got up and snarled. “You can’t kill us, but we can kill you.”

Before Pigsy could protest again, the tigers bolted out of the restaurant, and Pigsy scrambled to keep up.

The street quickly turned into a mad panic as people bolted out of the way of the tiger demons, which was kind of good because there was a clear path for Pigsy to follow. Did he have a plan? No. Did his arm hurt with every attempt at running? Yes. Did he even know why he was sticking his neck this far out for these kids? Kind of– He wasn’t heartless– if kids are in danger he’ll protect them, that’s how normal people responded.

He also hoped his regular was okay– if they lived he was going to make sure he asked for his name.

When he caught sight of the trio, they were dashing around a corner, and the demons quickly followed. Pigsy was starting to fall behind and so said a quick prayer to whatever and picked up the pace, mortified when he turned that corner and found they got themselves backed into an alley.

“Nowhere to run, Little Dragon,” The bigger tiger licked his lips and got on all fours. Pigsy scrambled for something to grab, but the smaller tiger pounced on him and that quickly became a struggle of its own.

“Mr. Piggy!” Mei cried out, her eyes still glowing but flickering to a wine red. She balled her little hands into fists and stepped away from MK, who was forced to let go of her arm and so grabbed onto the man.

“Get away from him!” She shouted, and a rush of hot air flooded the alleyway, causing the tiger to stop fighting Pigsy, though he still had him pinned and with claws at his throat.

“B-boss, you said she was too young,” The small one said.

The bigger one growled, “She’s supposed to be, but something’s… different.”

“I saidget away!” She screamed, and Pigsy couldn’t believe his eyes– she was suddenly surrounded by an aura in the shape of a very, very large Jade Dragon, who’s eyes stared menacingly down at the two tiger demons. There was something else too– sparks of that red from before, but whatever that was it was clearly restrained, despite her anger.

“C-c’mon boss, let’s get out of here,” The small tiger let go of Pigsy and scrambled away. The larger remained, staring down the beast until it opened its massive jaws as if to spit fire or water, and then he ran.

“Wow-! That was so cool Mei-!” Her best friend cheered for her while Pigsy forced himself to stand.

“Yeah, not too bad– kid-!” In the middle of Pigsy’s compliment, all of the glow faded from Mei’s eyes and she passed out, thankfully caught by the regular.

“We should get you– you two– to a hospital,” The man said, his face going pale at Pigsy’s appearance.

“What? I’m not that roughed up,” Pigsy denied, despite feeling so dizzy from blood loss he had to rest a hand against the wall of the alley.

“C’mon, I’ll call a cab,” The man rolled his eyes playfully before calling the car and then they were off.

.o0o.

Once they were at the hospital, things quickly got awkward as it became more and more apparent to the staff that they had no relation to Mei and didn’t know any of her medical information. Thankfully her situation was a lot less serious and she was awake and had perfectly fine vitals in just a few minutes, whereas Pigsy had to get stitches and a blood transfusion, and was put under observation for a while.

The observation period was boring, of course, and it had him wondering just what the hell he was doing with his life. He didn’t know these kids– he didn’t even know that customer’s name– why was he out here destroying his very livelihood and fighting for them like they’re his own kids?

“Are you doing alright there? You're almost done” The nurse, “Ming-Hoa” according to his lotus-shaped name tag, suddenly spoke up. Pigsy blinked and shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah, just… thoughts,” He shrugged.

“Getting into life threatening situations often does that to a person,” The nurse laughed a little, checking all of the monitors and writing something down on his clipboard. “What you did was very brave. That girl could very easily be dead, her family is indebted to you.”

Pigsy sighed and closed his eyes. “That’s the problem– the kid doesn’t have a family.”

The nurse nodded a little. “Well… I’m sure they’re happy wherever they are.”

“What’s– uh–” Pigsy looked down at his hands. “What’s going to happen to the kid now?”

The nurse had a small smile on his face. “Well, custody of her will be decided by her parent’s will and the boy will undergo a similar process, though if there’s no will, he’ll be placed into foster care.”

“Wait– him too?” Pigsy tried to sit up.

“Oh, you didn’t know? He was also orphaned in the fire the other night, though he was in the apartment buildings.”

“But they can’t split those two up, they’re practically siblings– joined at the hip and apparently all they have." An expression of sad realization washed over the chef's face.

"Yes, yes, but unfortunately that is how it goes unless the person taking in the girl was willing to take the boy too," Ming-Hoa explained.

"How could anyone not? I know I sure would," Pigsy huffed as the nurse checked the monitors once more and started unhooking all of the devices.

"Well that's what we like to hear," He said as he took off the heart monitor from Pigsy.

"Sure..?" Pigsy raised an eyebrow as he stretched. The nurse continued to type something into his computer as Pigsy stood and gathered his things, which was really just his torn up chef’s shirt.

“The Dragon Family Lawyer will meet you just outside to discuss a few things, Mr. Zhu,” He said. Why exactly the nurse knew about Mei’s lawyer when he wasn't even her nurse was something Pigsy didn’t have the energy to question.

“Uh… thanks,” He nodded, throwing on the torn shirt over his white tank top and bandages before heading out to the waiting area, which was strangely cleared out except for Mei, MK, his customer, and a woman wearing a white pantsuit and high heels with lotuses on them– the lawyer, most likely.

“Ah, Mr. Zhu, I’m Gatita, the lawyer for the Dragon Family Estate,” The woman stood, but before he could go to shake her hand, Mei jumped from her seat and gave Pigsy a hug.

“I’m sorry you got hurt, Mr. Piggy,” She apologized profusely.

“Hey, I’m just glad you’re okay kiddo,” Pigsy patted her back before she let go and joined MK back by the bead maze.

“I’m glad to see Miss Mei likes you already,” The woman smiled fondly before going once more to shake Pigsy’s hand, which he did before taking his seat next to the regular.

“So… what exactly do you need to talk to me about?” Pigsy asked.

The lawyer reached into her bag and pulled out a large manilla folder. “Well, there was a peculiarity in Mr. and Mrs. Dragon’s last will and testament, which says that if no one remains of her immediate family, then it would be up to The Dragon King of the East, and it appears he has chosen you,” she said, pulling out the document that stated just that.

Pigsy blinked.

“Mr. Zhu?”

“S-sorry there, i just– what???” Pigsy shook his head. “I-i’ve never met any Dragon King and I know damn– dang well that I am not better for her than any king in an actual castle would be.”

“Well, mystical beings often have their ways of looking around. Plus, Mei is merely a descendant of Ao Lie, she’s not as draconic as her great uncle and his family. It would be better for her to be raised in a more humanoid environment,” Gatita said, pointing to a specific paragraph of the paper Pigsy still couldn’t hope to read.

“You know I ain’t exactly human myself, right?” Pigsy snorted.

“I suppose you truly haven’t spent any time with dragons then,” The lawyer laughed to herself like Pigsy didn’t literally just say that.

“Well, either way, you wouldn’t be alone. You’d have my number for any emergencies, and plus your husband here will be of great help,” She smiled at the man next to Pigsy and both of their faces turned red.

“Woah– wait now– we’re– I’m not–” The man protested.

“Oh! My apologies, I just assumed because both of you were present– it doesn’t matter. Custody would primarily be given to Pigsy for both the boy and the girl–”

“Both of them? I didn’t think you were in charge of both of them,” Pigsy sat back in his seat, his head beginning to spin.

“Are you suggesting you’d want to split the two up?” The woman frowned a little, glancing back at the two seven-year-olds.

“N-no! I just–” Pigsy rubbed his forehead. “It’s… a lot. I’m not exactly rolling in money here and I just–”

“There is a sum of money set aside for Mei and the boy’s childcare, as well as Mei’s inheritance, but that won’t be available until she is eighteen for safekeeping, and as far the academy goes, her and the boys admission has been paid in full for the next eleven years already so that’s not a concern either,” She said, pulling out more documents and Pigsy was still not going to read any one of them– though it didn’t matter because it seemed like his customer was doing it for him (probably because he actually understood them because he was smart and stuff).

“I understand it’s a lot, Mr. Zhu, and if you truly feel uncomfortable, you can turn the offer down. However, if you do, they will without a doubt be separated and live very, very different lives,” The lawyer said with an earnestness the chef didn’t expect.

Pigsy glanced back at the kids, seeing how happy they were in each other's company, and then thinking back to how fiercely they protected each other and– hell, even him.

He’d have to be heartless to tear that apart.

“I… I’ll take them,” Pigsy said.

“Are you certain?” Gatita asked seriously. Pigsy nodded.

“I am.”

“That’s what we like to hear,” She smiled, taking out a pen from her bag and handing it over to the chef.

“Wait, that’s it? No evaluation, no checking bank accounts or backgrounds or anything?” Pigsy took the pen nervously.

Gatita laughed. “We did all of that beforehand; you’re all clear Mr. Zhu.”

Pigsy blinked again. He glanced at the man to his left.

“I’m no lawyer, but everything looks legit and–... and I can help a bit too, if you’d want that– like around the restaurant and stuff,” His customer said, his hands pulling on his scarf nervously.

Pigsy smiled a bit, probably like an idiot, before glancing at the lawyer and covering his mouth and mouthing “I don’t even know your name.”

His customer laughed a little before copying his motion and mouthing, “it’s Tang.”

Tang.

It was perfect for him.

“Right,” He smiled more, lowering his hand and turning back to the documents.

He had no idea what it took to raise a kid– let alone two.

Then again, he’d have to be an idiot to turn down what was probably a small fortune.

But he shouldn’t just be doing this for money.

And he wasn’t– he cared about those kids and couldn’t imagine forgiving himself for separating them.

Plus it was technically her family’s wants, and who was he to say he knew better than literal celestial dragons?

With a breath, Pigsy gripped the pen tighter and signed his name across every dashed line Gatita pointed to, and then it was official.

Pigsy just adopted two kids he barely knew, one who was a descendant of a literal dragon.

He hoped he had even a clue of what he just got himself into.

#my fics #lmk #lego monkie kid #pigsy #dadsy #freenoodles #spoiler free #mei lmk #mk lmk #mei dragon #adoption #whoops guess I'm a dad now #uhhhh #idk how to else to tag this thing #fjdakls;fjdaksl #it's cute stuff #so uh #read it #<333

54 notes · View notes

elementaldoughnut12 · 21 days

Text

"Sweet Punishment"

*contains sexual acts and spanking and slight angst*

*Also this is based around crown jewel when Sami stole Damian's briefcase*

“That Jimmy jackass has a lot of nerve! Costing me the damn belt!” Knight grumbles as he limps to his locker room. His ribs were hurting from the spear he received from Roman and his bad back was starting to act up again. Sometimes he wonders if he's getting too old for the ring. He refused to go to medical cause he saw on the tv what happened when Sami stole Damian's briefcase. He saw how pissed off Damian was and how that monster knocked JD unconscious in a fit of rage and dragged him off to the Judgment Day locker room.

“If that worthless trash left as much of a scratch on my Clover…” Knight says deeply with anger. He hopes that JD is in his locker room with their other husband Solo and not bleeding out in a random bathroom somewhere. He's at the door when he hears a distressed voice and a gentle one that he automatically recognizes as JD and Solo.

“S-Stop it! Don't touch it anymore!” JD says with a whimper. “If I don't fix it, it won't get better and how do you think daddy will feel when he sees what happened to you?” Solo says gently. That was enough for Knight as he busts the door open and sees Solo with a first-aid kit and a trail of blood leading to the bathroom. “What in the holy hell is going on in here Hibiscus?” Knight asks Solo.

“JD became Damian's personal punching bag after Sami stole his briefcase and ran off with it and he refused any help I tried to give him” Solo says sadly as he puts away the first aid kit. This angered Knight immensely to the point that he punched the nearest locker which caused a dent. He saw Solo flinch and he took some deep breaths to calm himself down. He slowly walked to the entrance of the bathroom and hearing his Clover softly crying broke his heart.

“Clover? Are you ok?” Knight asks worryingly. “Go away! You're gonna get mad!” JD says in a scared tone. This made Knight worry even more about his husband. “Ya know I'm not gonna do that Clover! Daddy's not gonna get mad at ya! Now come out here so I know you're ok!” Knight says calmly. “O-Ok…” JD says nervously. What JD looked like made Knight's heart stop…

His Clover was covered head to foot in dark bruises that looked painful if touched. He was littered with cuts that were bloody with some that looked like they needed stitches. He had dark marks that looked like hand prints around his throat which caused JD to have a bit of trouble breathing. His bottom lip was busted and bleeding but thankfully he didn't lose any teeth. His nose wasn't broken but it had a cut on the bridge of it and was trickling blood. To top it all off was the huge black eye that JD is currently sporting.

“Oh Clover…” Knight says gently as he opens his arms for JD. His husband runs into his arms and starts sobbing into his chest. “I'm s-sorry daddy!” JD says as he cries even harder. “Ya don't need to apologize Clover, ya don't deserve to get beaten up because Damian was mad at Sami” Knight says while gently running his fingers through JD's hair. He felt JD wrap one of his arms around Knight's neck to hug him and noticed that he put his other arm behind his back.

“Clover? Why are you hiding your hand?” Knight asks curiously. “I-It's nothing…” JD says as he looks away from Knight's gaze. “Jordan if something is wrong with your hand and you don't get it checked out then it might affect how you do in the ring so please show daddy what's wrong” Knight says worryingly as he puts JD in his lap. JD whimpers as he slowly pulls his hand from behind his back and shows his two broken fingers.

“Clover, did Damian do this!?!” Knight asks calmly as he tries to not get angry and upset his husband. “A-After he beat me up I-I tried to get away but Dominick b-blocked the exit and that's when Damian g-grabbed my hand and broke my fingers… I-I'm sorry daddy!!!” JD says as he sobs into Knight's chest again. Knight gently grabs JD's hand and lightly kisses his clover's injured fingers.

“It's ok Clover and I told ya it's not your fault it's that stupid asshole Damian who hurt ya and it's also Hibi's big brother and his derpy boyfriend’s fault for causing this whole thing to happen” Knight says as he kisses JD'S forehead. “Now we gotta snap your fingers back into place and it's gonna hurt so I want ya to take a deep breath when I do it ok?” Knight asks JD as his Clover nods his head.

“Ya want Hibi to come over here and hold your hand?” Knight continues. “Y-Yes please” JD says softly as Solo walks over and holds JD's hand and gives him a gentle smile. “Ok ya ready?” Knight says as JD takes a deep breath and nods. “1…2…3!” Knight says as he snaps one of the fingers back into place with a sickening crack. JD screams as tears stream down his cheeks and land on Knight's chest. “It's ok Clover we're almost done just take another deep breath ok?” Knight says as he lets JD take a breather. “1…2…3!” Knight says again as he snaps JD's other finger back into place. JD bites Knight's shoulder to muffle his scream.

“The worst is over Clover, daddy's got ya” Knight says as he kisses the top of JD's head while he and Solo hug him til he stops crying. When JD has calmed down and his fingers have been wrapped up, he looks up at Knight and whimpers at the bite mark he left on his daddy's shoulder. “I'm s-sorry for biting you daddy…” JD says sadly. “I think I gotta teach ya to stop apologizing for every little thing Clover and besides who said I didn't enjoy ya biting me?” Knight says with a smirk which causes both JD and Solo to giggle.

After stitching up his cuts and cleaning the blood off, Knight puts JD back on his lap and smothers his husband with kisses. “I'm so happy that my Clover is feeling better!” Knight says as he kisses JD deeply. Knight then picked up JD in a bridal carry and followed Solo to the door. “Umm daddy? Where are we going?” JD asks confusingly.

“I think it's time I have a little talk with the clown squad and teach them that people get hurt when they go through with their dumb ideas” Knight says seriously. “Even though it wasn't all their fault… I still wanna see what you do to them” JD says with a gentle smile. “You've been hanging around me and Sethie too much Clover! Acting all sassy like that! Ya just wanna see daddy whoop some ass don't ya?” Knight says with a laugh which causes JD to blush immensely. They follow Solo to Jey's locker room and Knight sets JD back down and bangs on the door…

“Adam, if this is about stealing that briefcase I already told you I'm…” Sami doesn't finish his sentence as he opens the door and is shocked to see Knight outside of it. “This ain't Pearce sweetheart! Can we come in?” Knight says calmly so he doesn't scare JD. “U-um y-yes! You can come in!” Sami says nervously as he watches Knight, JD and Solo walk into the room. “Yo Sami! I got my bong out! You ready to get ucey with me, pookie?” Jey says while walking out of the kitchen area without realizing who else was in the room.

“U-Umm J-Jey? Probably not the right time to be saying that…” Sami says nervously as he watches Knight give Jey a death glare. “What you mean?” Jey says confusingly. He sets his bong on the table and turns around and freezes when he sees Knight glaring at him. “Oh fuck…” Jey says nervously. “Oh fuck is right! Did ya two dumbasses even think about what would happen after ya stole that briefcase?” Knight says furiously as he walks towards Jey.

“It was just a briefcase! We knew Damian would get mad but what else would he do?” Sami says as he gets in-between Jey and Knight. “He beat the hell out of Clover and broke two of his fingers is what he did!” Knight says as he hugs a trembling JD. Sami and Jey look at JD's bruise covered body as realization and remorse is spread across their faces. “Damian did that? Oh my god, JD we're so sorry! Right, Jey?” Sami says as he looks at Jey. “Yeah! We sorry uce! We didn't mean for you to get your shit rocked!” Jey apologizes.

“Nah-Nah! Ya can save ya sorry for after Daddy punishes ya! What I wanna know is who's dumbass idea it was to steal the briefcase?” Knight says seriously. “It was Jey… I overheard him talking to Sami about how he should steal the briefcase during Damian's match” Solo says which causes Jey to glare at him. “Solo! You nosy little shit! I'm a pound you into the pavement!” Jey says angrily as he tries to lunge at Solo. He gets caught and is pinned to the wall by Knight.

“Oh I don't think so! Now ya better calm ya pomeranian looking ass down or daddy's gonna give ya more than a butt whooping!” Knight says as he puts his knee between Jey's legs, causing the younger man to whimper. “S-Sorry big daddy… I-I'll be a good boy” Jey says with a red face while desperately trying to grind on Knight's leg. “I forgive ya babycakes but I still gotta punish both of ya for causing Clover to get hurt. Now, can ya be a good boy and go sit on the couch for daddy?” Knight says as he kisses Jey deeply and watches him go sit on the couch.

Knight goes over to Sami and grabs his chin, watching Sami's cheeks go as red as his hair. “Ya ready for ya punishment gingersnap?” Knight says seductively causing Sami to whimper and tremble. “Y-Yes daddy…” Sami says nervously. Sami watches as Knight sits in a chair and spreads his thick thighs wide. “Come and lay across daddy's lap baby” Knight says seductively. Sami shakily walks over and lays across Knight's lap. He shivers as he feels Knight pull down his pants and boxers all at once.

“What I'm about to do is not cause I'm angry or disappointed in ya, it's only cause I want ya to understand how your actions affect others… ya understand Sami?” Knight asks seriously as he lightly traces his finger down Sami's spine. “Y-Yes daddy…” Sami says as he shivers at the touch. “I'm gonna do ten smacks and you're gonna count and if ya mess up we're restarting… ya ready?” Knight asks as he gives Sami's ass a light smack. He watches as Sami nods and raises his hand up…

The first smack was delivered and it made Sami jump a bit. “O-One” Sami says while feeling himself get slightly erect. The second smack was delivered to his other cheek. “T-Two” Sami whimpers as his dick is now fully erect. “Ya already hard gingersnap? Ya enjoy daddy spanking ya til your ass is red?” Knight says as he smacks Sami's ass again. “T-Three! Oh God yes!” Sami moans as he feels his face go red. “Wanna tell daddy why ya enjoy it?” Knight asks as he gives Sami another smack.

“F-Four! I've been a b-big fan of y-yours for a long t-time!” Sami admits embarrassingly. “Is that right? What was your favorite match of mine? Maybe I can give ya the explicit details…” Knight says seductively as he gives another smack. “F-Five! M-My favorite was you against Randy i-in a street fight…” Sami whimpers.

“My personal favorite! Ya should've seen the carnage we did back in the day! He'd beat me with a baseball bat and I'd bash fluorescent light tubes over his back where the glass was embedded deep in his skin! I came out the winner obviously and there we were covered in blood and I grabbed a mic and I told him on live tv that he gets the pleasure to fuck the megastar YEAH!!!” Knight says with a laugh before he lets out a quiet sigh.

“I love that man so much…” Knight says quietly with a gentle smile before giving Sami two rapid fast smacks. “S-Six! S-Seven! I r-recorded that match! Every time I s-saw you two drenched in b-blood, I had to jerk off right at that moment!” Sami whined. “Oh? So cute little gingersnap was into big, beefy, men drenched in blood and watching them slam their hefty bodies against each other? I bet I was in your wet dreams, sweetheart” Knight says sweetly before delivering two more smacks.

“E-Eight! N-Nine! I-I jerked off to photos of you every night! Can I c-cum daddy? I can't hold it anymore!” Sami whines as he starts to tremble a bit. “Not yet baby! Ya gotta hold on a bit longer cause daddy is gonna finger ya! Can ya do that for daddy?” Knight asks and taking from the quick nod and whimper from Sami, that meant he was willing to hold on. Knight delivered one last smack to Sami's ass that made an echo in the room. “T-Ten!!” Sami moans as he trembles tremendously.

“You're doing so good baby…” Knight says gently as he rubs Sami's reddened skin. Sami just whines in approval as he feels Knight's hand go down to gently rub his quivering hole. Sami moans as he feels Knight's thick finger slowly go inside him. Knight just pumps his finger in and out until he thinks Sami is stretched out enough and adds a second finger. Knight groaned at the feeling of how tight Sami was around his fingers.

“Get ready baby cause daddy is gonna make your dreams come true!” Knight says as he shoves both his fingers root deep inside Sami and hits his prostate head on. “Daddy!!” Sami moans loudly as thick spurts of cum splatter across Knight's thighs. Knight gently pulls his fingers out of Sami's hole causing Sami to shudder. He gently pulls Sami's pants and boxers back up. “Ya learned your lesson gingersnap?” Knight asks with a smirk. “Y-Yes daddy!” Sami says with a quick nod. “Good, now go sit on the couch like a good boy” Knight says as he kisses Sami's forehead.

He watches as Sami shakily walks over to sit on the couch. He then sets his eyes on Jey who nervously looks away. “Ya think I forgot about ya pom-pom? Since you're the genius of the idea, ya get double the punishment! Now, come over here and lick Sami's cum off my thighs! Can ya do that for me baby?” Knight asks sweetly. He receives a shy nod from Jey and watches him crawl over to the chair. Jey sticks his tongue out and licks all the jizz off Knight's thighs.

“That's a good boy” Knight says as he ruffles Jey's hair. “T-Thank you daddy” Jey says quietly with a blush. “Polite too! That's surprising!” Knight says with a laugh as he easily sets Jey across his lap. He pulls Jey's pants down and smirks. “Going commando are we?” Knight says, causing Jey to whimper. “D-Daddy please!” Jey whines. “Ok pom-pom! Ya heard me say the rules to gingersnap so they apply to you too! But ya get an audience this time cause it's only fair ok?” Knight asks and receives a nod from Jey.

Jey watches as he sees Solo and JD walk and sit right in front of him. “Ya ready baby?” Knight asks. “Y-Yeah…” Jey answers nervously. Knight can feel how tense Jey is so he gently rubs his back in comfort. “It'll be ok baby boy, just take some deep breaths and if ya mess up the count ya don't have to restart ok?” Knight asks gently. Jey takes a few deep breaths and nods to signal he's ready. Knight raises his hand up and delivers the first smack.

“O-One” Jey says quietly while blushing. “You're handling it so well sweetheart” Knight says gently as he delivers another smack. “T-Two” Jey whines as he feels himself get slightly erect. “You like being praised baby? It's ok if ya do…” Knight says with a smile as he gives Jey another smack. “T-Three! Y-Yes daddy!” Jey whimpers as he gets fully hard. “Ya already hard? I'm impressed baby boy!” Knight says with a laugh as he delivers two smacks to Jey's ass.

“F-Four! F-Five!” Jey says as he feels tears streaming down his face. Knight hears Jey quietly crying and frowns slightly. He decides to maneuver Jey to make it so he's straddling his lap. “Does this position make ya feel better sweetheart?” Knight says gently and receives a shy nod from Jey. He kisses Jey's forehead and delivers two more rapid fast smacks. “S-Six! S-Seven! O-Oh my god!” Jey moans as his dick steadily drips precum.

“Almost done sweetheart! Keep making those pretty noises for daddy!” Knight says as he smacks Jey's ass two more times. “E-Eight! N-Nine! I'm gonna bust daddy!” Jey whines as he starts to lightly grind on Knight's lap. “Just one more baby boy! Ya can hold it! I believe in ya!” Knight says happily as he delivers the final smack. “T-Ten! Daddy please!!!” Jey says through tears. Knight can feel Jey trembling so he cups his face and kisses him deeply.

“Ya ready for your photo finish sweetheart?” Knight says gently which receives a rapid nod from Jey. He wraps his hand around Jey's weeping cock and kisses him deeply. Within two strokes, Jey moans into Knight's mouth and cums all over his hand. Knight licks the cum off his hand and hugs a trembling Jey. “You did so good sweetheart… I'm so proud of you” Knight says gently as he runs his fingers through Jey's curls. Jey doesn't say anything and continues to cry.

“Look at me Jey…” Knight says as he gently grabs Jey's face. “Roman's not here sweetheart… You're safe here” Knight says with a gentle smile. Jey wipes the tears from his eyes and smiles. “Thank you” Jey says quietly. “Ya welcome baby boy! Ya learned your lesson?” Knight asks. “Hell yeah! My ass is burning! Oh and umm JD?” Jey says as he pulls his pants up and hops off Knight's lap and walks over to JD. “Yeah?” JD asks curiously and receives a hug from Jey.

“I'm sorry for you getting beat up… I know how it feels to be attacked by people you thought were family” Jey says genuinely as he feels JD hug him back. “I-It's alright Jey! I know neither of you meant for it to happen! I forgive you!” JD says with a big smile on his face. “Good cause now you getting the brother treatment! Now Sami!” Jey says which gives him a confused look from JD.

JD didn't know what was going on until he felt Sami hug him from and he got smothered in kisses by both men. “S-Stop! That tickles! Solo help!” JD says while laughing. Instead of helping, Solo walked over and joined the group hug. “You guys are idiots…” Solo says with a smile. “Thank you!” The three men said in unison. “Hey! Ya forgot that daddy was here?” Knight says as he picks all four of them up and lays on the couch with them sprawled across his body.

“Damn Solo! Now I know why you like him so much! He hot as a furnace!” Jey says with a laugh. “Don't get used to it…” Solo says, causing Jey to laugh even more. “Sami? Jey? I got a mission for ya!” Knight says which causes Sami and Jey to look at him. “When I'm not here, you two gotta watch JD so he doesn't end up like he did tonight got it?” Knight continues.

“Yessir!” Jey said happily. “Absolutely! It's the least we can do considering we caused it…” Sami says with a nervous laugh. “Good! Now this old man is tired and I just wanna sleep with my husbands and their two idiots!” Knight says which makes everyone laugh. “Love you daddy” JD and Solo said quietly. “Love you too sweethearts” Knight says while wrapping his arms around all four men. With that, Knight closes his eyes and falls asleep to the sounds of his husbands breathing.

#18+ content #la knight x jd mcdonagh x solo sikoa #samijey #silver daddy la knight? yeah!!#la knight #jd mcdonagh #solo sikoa #sami zayn #jey uso #i love my au so much #fic doughnut #daily doughnut

4 notes · View notes

badlydrawntransformers · 2 years

Text

SHIP’S HAUNTED!

Still thinking about @cuppajj‘s Shattered Glass!Sentient Lost Light AU, so I wrote a part 2 to my first little drabble! Enjoy my second ever attempt at writing horror!

(also ft. a little nod to @dimorphodon-x‘s fic with SG!Starhawk!)

You feel the terror that had been gripping your frame ease up as you realize that there’s absolutely nothing in the bridge. Not to say that the place wasn’t a wreck, because of course it was. It almost looked like someone had been digging their servos into the walls and ripping out wires. It was suddenly comforting to know you were completely alone, if anything.

(Later, you would chastise yourself for jumping to that conclusion so quickly.)

You approach the seat of the former captain, noticing what looks to be energon dried on and around the chair. Unsettling as it is, it doesn’t really mean much to you. Perhaps there had been a scuffle in some time past. Pirates did happen to be a problem out here in space, after all. Maybe the Prime had been killed, or even kidnapped. There was no way to say for sure just based on some old stains on the floor. If anything, you could safely say the Lost Light was definitively not haunted.

…was it just you, or had the ship suddenly gone silent?

…

The feeling of a pair of optics boring into the back of your helm overcame you in the blink of an optic.

Holding down a shudder, you very slowly turn around and come face to face with a mech you didn’t hear approach. They look disheveled; their visor is cracked and they’re covered in dents and scrapes, but you can very clearly make out the Autobot symbol on their shoulder, the first of many signs that they were not to be trusted.

They seem almost… surprised to see you.

“You came back…” the bot says, their expression gradually shifting to one of delight. “Captain, you came back!”

You laugh nervously, but you’re barely able to get the words “I’m not” out of your mouth before the mystery mech interrupts you, getting closer.

“I was so worried, what with you being taken by that awful monster, but you’ve come back to me!” At this point, they were uncomfortably close to you, and you start moving backward to try and get some space between you and the stranger. “I knew you would, Captain. I kept you safe, after all.”

You manage to ask the mech who they are. Their expression falls.

“Captain, what do you mean?” They look you over for a few moments, then let out a sigh. “Of course. You’re not him. But you look so much like him, I was almost certain he had come back to me.” They reach out their servo towards your face. “I suppose I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”

You stumble as you continue to try and distance yourself from the stranger, but you find yourself pressed against the captain’s chair. As they take your chin in their hand, a twisted smile crosses their face, making your energon run cold.

“I think you’ll do quite nicely in his place, however.”

You hear something shift above you, and as you look up, you’re suddenly ensnared by the cables that had emerged from the ceiling. You struggle to break free, cursing out the strange mech in front of you. They give you a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Hush now, Captain. I can’t let you leave me again.” they say, their form glitching ever so slightly. “I’ve been waiting for so long to have some company again.”

“W-Who are you?!” you manage to choke out through the cables strangling you, as well as the tears that you couldn’t stop from welling up in your optics.

“You’ll learn in due time. After all, we have all of eternity to get to know one another.” they chuckle, vanishing.

The cables drag you up into the internal workings of the ship, and as everything goes dark, you hear the Lost Light’s voice echo from all around you.

“Welcome home, Rodimus~”

#transformers #transformers au #tf au #transformers fic #tf fic #shattered glass #lost light #sentient lost light au #psychological horror my beloved #really amped up the creepy factor in this one lmao #i should come up with a name for the protag i think #mmmmm #maybe ember #ooh or maybe something referencing will-o-wisps #since theyre a ghost hunter and all

58 notes · View notes

amazinglyegg · 2 years

Text

Fallout 4 Companions Injuries and Scars Headcanons

(TW for mentions of self harm and emotional abuse/neglect)

Cait

She has a lot of very old scars from her childhood and teen years

Most of them are generally unrecognizable, just very faint patches of warped or lighter skin

Gets a lot of injuries when fighting melee, endless amounts of bruised knuckles and black eyes

A big part of it is self harm via getting injured in ways she could have avoided and refusing proper medical help in favor of her own techniques (AKA pouring alcohol on cuts and wrapping injuries with a dirty cloth)

She feels like having visible injuries is proof that her pain (physical or emotional) is "valid" in a way

She actually gets antsy when her wounds are covered with bandages or she has to use things like scar cream that will heal things faster and leave smaller scars

Curie

She's very clumsy and gets minor injuries a LOT

Bruises on her legs from running into things, scrapes on her arms from falling into bushes or hitting her hand against a wall while gesturing

I think popular consensus is that she has a low pain tolerance but I'd like to imagine her with a high one

She'll do things like hold a too-hot cup or bite her lips until she bleeds without even noticing she's hurt

She has a few scars on her body that are from the synth before her

She likes looking at them and trying to guess where they came from

Codsworth

He's a bit self conscious when it comes to his looks

He obviously doesn't have scars, but all the scratches and dents on his body makes him feel like a piece of discarded metal

He tries hard to take care of his own looks but some rust can just never come out

He feels more comfortable when Sole points out that they're just as scarred as him, and it makes him fit in more with the wasteland

Eventually he'll worry less about his own flaws, especially once he gets to know a trustworthy mechanic for when he gets seriously hurt

Danse

He spent his adolescence scavenging in the wasteland and his adulthood playing martyr for the Brotherhood, of course he's scarred

Technically he wouldn't have scars from his childhood, but he got a fair share hanging out in Rivet City with Cutler

Kinda fucked up thought: would the Railroad scar the synths that are getting mind wipes so they fit in?

Or maybe they choose the synths backstory based on how many scars they got from escaping the Institute

Danse got injured in the Institute (maybe he's a courser?) and/or got in some close calls with the Railroad

Add or minus some with reconstructive surgery and they gave Danse a dangerous past of scavenging for survival so all the gunshot/knife/burn scars make sense

He tends to ignore pain but takes caring for his injuries very seriously

It's a "you can only help others once you help yourself" type of thing, he needs to stay healthy and fit to be able to do his work as a paladin properly

Deacon

The idea of Deacon hiding a noticable scar behind his sunglasses is cool

Maybe a scar on the bridge of his nose or near his eyebrow where he got gun bashed by a UP Deathclaw

Other than that tries to limit his scars into "normal" territory

Gunshot here and there, maybe a few scratches

He'll use makeup to make any ones too noticable look smaller and has even hurt himself further in the past to change the look of a wound to something more normal

Like he was tortured and had a symbol or letter(s) carved into him and afterwards he mutilated it to look like a ghoul swipe/big burn scar/etc

His face is scarred from his face changes but generally it's very hard to see, he'll use scar cream and cover any noticable ones with makeup

Face changes can also hide any noticable scars he gets on his face

Tends to smile/grimace when he's in pain most of the time, laughs a lot out of nervousness when someone tries to help him

If he's in a ton of pain (and adrenaline isn't doing anything to help) he'll go quiet, but if he's around someone he really trusts he'll let himself curse

Hancock

He actually lives a pretty safe lifestyle, surprisingly

Nobody dares fuck with him in Goodneighbor and he always gets free healthcare and plenty of chems for even the smallest injuries

I don't like to think his skin hurts when touched because that'd be sad, I'm leaning more towards it being rough and made out of mostly scar tissue

Got plenty of scars from his childhood and doesn't mind fighting and getting hurt now, but it all tends to blend in with his skin

He has a very high pain tolerance and usually doesn't react to most things unless they're relatively serious

Tends to get curious when it comes to injuries, will show off a nasty wound to Fahrenheit like a kid showing off a squished worm

"Look, my pee's red!" "Hancock holy shit go to a doctor"

Longfellow

I like to think he has a lot of scars on his hands

From working with hooks and idk fish biting him?

Fishing's probably a lot more dangerous now in days

*accidentally fishes up a mirelurk* oops

He's old so he's been in a bunch of fights

Although now in days he can't even get into a barfight, people like him too much and will just send him to bed like the old man he is

Acts all tough when he gets shot or something but will do the Dad Groan and complain about his back whenever he gets out of his chair

Maccready

I imagine him to have fairly calloused hands and probably knees and elbows too from being a sniper

His life as a gunner was rough and he was often treated carelessly, so a lot of noticable gun shot or stab wounds that didn't get medical attention immediately

Once he started working for himself he took better care of himself

He doesn't necessarily fret over himself but he'll get into a lot fewer fights and mostly focus on staying in the shadows and out of trouble

He has a high pain tolerance but around someone he's comfortable with he WILL whine and complain the entire time

He can get shot or stabbed without a care in the world but if a bee stings him He Will Not Shut Up

Nick

On one hand, we can use our basic biology knowledge to know that metal is not made out of cells and thus cannot reproduce to create scar tissue, and this is proven by Nick's bare hand and face gash

On the other hand, this is a sci-fi game with teleportation so fuck biology

Nick can be healed with stimpacks, and given the Institutes interest in cells and using FEV to mutate them, it'd be an interesting idea that Nick can heal similar to a human

Maybe not as effectively, and maybe it only works for his outer layer of skin and does nothing for wires or metal

Obviously stimpacks aren't miracle machines and won't fix an entire hand just being gone but smaller scrapes (especially ones that don't pierce all the way through his flesh) can be healed with stimpacks

He has a pretty normal if not a bit low of a pain tolerance, but he's good at pushing through and acting tough

He feels like since he can't really bleed out that he isn't as worthy of being in pain, so he tends to go quiet when he's hurt

(Fic rec 1) and (fic rec 2) btw I love these

Piper

She's probably got fewer injuries than the average wastelander, given her comfortable life in Diamond City, and being taken good care of by her father before her and Nat moved

Her and Nat take care of each other when it comes to this sort of thing, she makes sure Nat is taken care of and Nat makes sure she takes care of herself

Nat always comes first, naturally, but Piper doesn't want to be a bad influence by purposfully leaving her own wounds uncared for

She's really chill with stitches and needles but hates the idea of infections or dirty wounds

The idea of something foreign or gross inside her body makes her cringe and she'll always make sure to keep any injuries well covered to prevent it

Preston

He has a scar on his cheek but I'm not entirely sure what it could be from

It's hard to get a good look at it just from a google search

Deathclaw or yao guai would be cool or it could be from Quincy

Running straight into battle to protect someone being terrorized and getting sliced/bayonetted by a gunner

Handful of gunshot wounds here and there, minutemen mostly deal with attacks from raiders or supermutants which have generally weak and poorly aimed guns

He's used to patching himself up and will have a hard time accepting medical help if others need it as well, especially when it comes to pain meds or such

Might have self harmed at some point in the past

Probably not an ongoing thing especially after he noticed the scars on his arm weren't fading and that he would be "wasting" medical supplies by getting himself hurt

X6-88

It started out as a morbid curiosity thing, maybe after seeing someone he cared about get hurt/tortured and wanting to feel what they felt

Then it turned into a punishment when he felt like he could have saved someone or done better in some way

Do coursers have no scars or do they have a bunch of scars?

I kinda view coursers as neglected children

Like if they get hurt or sick they can't ask for help because they'll just be ridiculed or ignored (or killed if deemed bad enough)

If they get hurt it's their job to take care of it themselves

X6 will ignore any injuries he gets partially because according to the Institute he is Lowest Priority Ever when it comes to that and partially because he's afraid of people's reactions

Deep down he's terrified of just being killed one day because some higher up thinks it would be cheaper to make a new synth than to use the medical supplies on him

Anyone treating him gently or healing his wounds gives him so much anxiety

If he has scars he keeps them well hidden

Maxson

As funny as it is to think that the cheek scar is drawn on, it probably isn't

Although I wouldn't be surprised if rumors have been circulating for so long the entire story has shifted

"Maxson fought a deathclaw with a switchblade" okay maybe it wasn't a fight and maybe it wasn't a deathclaw and maybe he just sliced his own face open trying to do cool knife tricks "just in case" he ran into a deathclaw "one day"

Other than that he was generally protected as a kid so he's never really been allowed to get hurt

He was so doted on that he'd get reprimanded for "normal" childhood injuries like scraping his knee or falling out of a tree

Making a mistake (even if it was just tripping over a rock while playing) meant he could never do that activity again, so he became cautious and hid any injuries he did get

Probably got really sick as a kid from trying to hide things like a cut that got infected or stomach pains that ended up being appendicitis

Father

Very few scars

The Institute basically locked him away for most of his life

He never left, never had to work with guns or knives (not even to cook, since all the food is supplements)

Great medicine means any small wounds get healed quickly and rarely leave noticable scars

The worst he gets is like, papercuts

And those get bandaged immediately

He's probably pretty squeamish and steers clear of the medical wing so he doesn't have to see injured people

Very horrified when he hears some of Sole's stories about injuries he never thought people could survive

Desdemona

She seems very non hostile in general, either she's never fought very much or she has retired

She seems like she could be charismatic if she tries (and she has to have social smarts to keep up with Deacon) so she probably talks her way out of fights

A very smart kid, knew where to go and how to avoid dangerous situations

Can recognize a bar fight brewing minutes before it actually starts

Playing with the idea of a serious injury leaving her with a disability (chronic pain?) which is why she stays in HQ

I actually imagine most people in HQ are ones that can't fight as well for one reason or another, which only makes the Brotherhood's attack even worse

Rhys

I don't know why I decided this but he has burn scars all down one side of his body

Something something molotive or maybe explosion from a car or gas leak??

He was out of duty for a while and Recon Squad Gladius was his first job back

When he gets frusturated he gets careless which leads to him doing things like cutting his hand while cleaning his knife or shutting the door on his thumb

Likes showing off his scars and telling stories, will find any excuse to take off his shirt while working (especially around Haylen)

Haylen

Either stays on top of all her wounds because she has medical knowledge or neglects herself in favor of her patients

I'm leaning towards her taking care of herself

She doesn't want to "slow down the team" by staying wounded for long so she tries to draw as minimal attention to herself as possible when she gets injured and bandages it ASAP

Everyone's focused on the fighters of the group so they don't notice her as much and she prefers it that way

She doesn't like having others take care of her because it feels too infantalizing

But she'll let Danse check her over if he notices she's wounded

Tends to have minimal scars because she's good at taking care of them and smart enough to not run into danger blindly

It actually makes her feel a bit self conscious around everyone in the Brotherhood who has amazing battle scars and wild stories in compared to her

128 notes · View notes

whyareyouhere66 · 1 year

Text

Jack Kelly x GN Reader - Love at your Convenience

Jack Kelly x Gender Neutral Reader

Angst (?)

Inspired by the song ‘Love at your Convenience’ by Ghost of Paul Revere

It’s not that in-character for Jack, but I wanted to do it with the Newsies and he was the only guy I could think of while writing it- this has been in drafts for weeks.

Y’know, at first it took him a while to fully open up to you. It didn’t matter how many times you’d find him wandering the Manhattan streets alone during those first 3 months of the relationship, he’d would always brush off any questions, throw an arm around your shoulder and a kiss to your cheek, and continue on with a sly change of subject.

You wanted him to trust you, truly. In fact you remember secretly being glad when he opened up to you for the first time.

But now that he finally did, you realize that perhaps you should’ve been more specific when you said “you can always come to me- always”.

Nearly every night of the week, he’d climb in through the window with a whole speech ready about something he did not agree with that day.

“Conlon keeps selling on the bridge- we agreed against it!”

“These greedy old rich guys can’t appreciate talent”

“They should be raising the price for customers- not the kids tryna sell em. Pulitzer must be patting himself on the back now, huh.”

On and on all the time about the same things, over and over. You had meant maybe when he was feeling down, needed a cheering up. Not angrily planning entire protests against the rich.

But, he was your partner and you loved him. To you- if you didn’t let him rant about these things then what kind of lover where you?

But..though you tried reminding yourself of that everytime he swung one leg over the window sill, angrily glaring, you knew this couldn’t keep up much longer.

You were burnt out, all out of encouragement. Compared to Jack, constantly running off adrenaline and that darn “peppy news-boy” front, you were the tired, “try-hard” one.

While he paced around your small room, dirt from his shoes sticking to your carpet, letting out frustrations he couldn’t in front of the other newsies, you could do nothing more then sit on your bed and wait for him to finish. Whenever he came in real late at night, which was often, you’d lean against the wall and watch through half lidded eyes- with nothing more to offer than “mhm” and “yeah, I get that sweetheart but…”

Sometimes he’d get sick of it as well- giving an attitude to you about “not listening.” Before finally, slipping under the covers and tugging you into his chest.

That was what used to be your favorite part.

Until you realized, that was the only time he seemed to care.

It seemed now that he had someone to vent to, that was your only use. He used to always have you at his side, now he rarely talked to you during the day.

You used to have in-depth conversations about the sunset, comparing the one on the bridge to the one in Santa Fe. Then that evolved into you feeding into his lengthy, midnight paragraphs. Now it was nothing.

You used to go to Medda’s shows, getting the best seats in the house and dancing wildly to her songs. Now you barely remembered how to dance at all.

You were a journal, with pages filled up with inky words and nonsense. The leather cover was dented and scratched, pages yellowing in age as you slowly ran out of room to be written in.

And Jack held the pen.

Perhaps if you told him what was wrong. He might stop, or he might continue. Maybe he’d get mad at you. Probably.

He was out at Medda’s at the moment, with the other newsies. You didn’t mind; you hoped he stayed there a bit longer. Maybe if the show ran real late, you could slip into sleep before he could climb up onto your fire escape again.

‘Oh god, I’m horrible…’

You grimace, rolling over in your bed and onto your side. Jack didn’t deserve that, he was just trying to get some frustrations out. He worked hard, giving everything he could to those newsies.

Perhaps you just wanted him to leave something to give for you.

A loud creak comes from your window, and when you looked over through your blurry eyes, you could see Jack stepping into the room, once again. Your hand crawls up to your face, covering your cheeks to block the salty tracks of your tears.

Words shot from his mouth, though you were unsure if they were angry, confused, etc. You blocked him out.

It didn’t matter none the less, the words weren’t processing in your tired brain.

Though it wasn’t hard for you to see, that Jack seemed to not notice he was simply talking to a brick wall, of his own creation.

#Jack Kelly #jack kelly x reader #92sies #92sies x reader #newsies x reader

46 notes · View notes

sallertiafabrica · 2 years

Text

Rumpus, Ruin, and a Third One

Wuvvy demanded satisfaction from three goblins in a trenchcoat.

(Ao3 link)

Taking Brennan’s “Hob was almost three smaller goblins, actually” and going through with it.

Thanks to @grimalkinsquill’s for enabling this idea! :D

Hob would admit when he committed a failure in judgment—it happens so often, we’re as used to it as the gunk in our ears. And as the fawn he had previously filed as a threat due to the swiftness with which she can move around—always running, always busy, all around in the Bloom, we needed to have a way to know when she was approaching—he clenched a fist, dragging his other claw down his face as yet another misjudgment bouldered his base.

He closed his tent, and the seven feet tall of this quite frightening vision of a furry beast that made Knickolas Pnackeless Hob shuddered. And it crumbled under his coat, medals symbolizing his many achievements to the Goblin court clinked in each other as the cloth was thrown to the ground.

From under it, three smaller figures emerged. All in different states of distress. One ran to the planning desk and began to smack his thick skull against one of the wooden legs, muttering, “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” at each thud.

Other kept close to the discarded shirt, covering themselves on it like a blanket as his widened eyes glanced from his two companions.

Another, the seemingly more kept together one, was pacing back and forth in between their companions, scratching behind an ear as his nose twitched, brows lowered in a deep frown.

“Cut it out, Knick!” he snarled to the goblin smacking his head against the wood. “Denting your thick skull won’t help us.” He knocked his own head for emphasis. “We gotta think.”

“Yeah!” Knick threw hands. “Because thinking has always helped the captain! Thinking has never disappointed the Goblin King! Thinking has never made Wuvvy demand satisfaction for making Rue cry!” He jumped high at the end, pulling at his ears.

The goblin still under the coat cried out, hugging the coat tighter around himself.

“Now you made Hobbert cry!”

Knick roared, running back to the desk and slamming his head against it.

The calmer goblin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “OK, fine! Let it out.” He threw himself at a pile of garbage, shuffling on it like it was a comfortable bean bag. “Tell me when you’re ready to talk it out like adults.”

Knick huffed, then stomped over and plopped on the ground. Hobbert crawled under the coat, poking his head out from a side closer to his companions and sitting comfortably there.

“We’re good at dueling,” Hobbert quietly said. “Winning might make the Goblin King happy.”

“But Rue…” Knick’s ears drooped. “Why did they cry?” He furrowed his eyebrows. He raised his eyes to glance from one goblin to another. “Do you know, Pnack?”

Pnack curled further into the garbage, ear twitching. “No… and, it doesn’t matter. They demand satisfaction from it, so we did something horrible to them.” He flopped to his back. “It must be it! And since we’re soooooo under them, they didn’t even dignify themselves to say it to our face!”

A sniff, then Hobbert repeated, “Winning might make the Goblin King happy.”

“Yeah.” Knick pouted, dropping his head on his palm. “And then we ask. Ask Wuvvy what she demanded satisfaction for.”

Pnack nodded. He jumped to his feet, hands on his hips authoritatively. “OK goblins! We have a mission for today! The captain must win this duel in the name of the Goblin Court!” He extended his pointer finger in the air, a determined grin on his face. It faltered as he lowered his hand. “And– And figure out what we did to disrespect Rue…”

“Aye aye, Cap.” Knick sighed as he pushed himself up. He straightened up, a devious smirk on his face as he extended his hand forwards. “Let’s show these fey what messing with the bringers of rumpus and ruin causes them.”

Pnack reflected his companion’s grin, eagerly clapping his palm on the back of his. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

Knick and Pnack turned to Hobbert, softer smiles mirrored in each of their faces as their third companion got up and walked up to them—coat heaving his steps.

Hands joined, they touched their foreheads, a rumpus like only the three of them was capable of forming and growing. A seven feet tall, furry, bugbear, with the uniform of a renowned captain and the posture of three goblins in a trenchcoat.

He gave a complicated salute, modified to refer to the three goblins that made him him, and marched with purpose to the lawn’s direction.

10 notes · View notes

wil-is-done · 1 year

Text

The Audacious Tales of the Lost Cipher and Her Daredevil Crew - Scenario 3: Lone Swordsman of the Astral Sea

Summary: Caught off guard by a Federation ambush, the crew of the Lost Cipher faces their darkest hour, until aid comes from a familiar ally.

Word Count: 6.838

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a repost.

This tale began with a pursuit.

The location, the shadowy outer reaches of the Bradyon system, once believed to be a natural dark spot for conventional radars, hence the perfect hiding hole for outlaws on the run.

The time, sometime after the larger sun reached its zenith and the smaller sun hung low, Local Galactic Time.

The pursuers, a Federation platoon of two Euclid-class destroyers and up to two dozen fighters, all loyal to the Federation to a fault, all willing to kill or be killed for their cause.

The target, the Lost Cipher and her dazed, discombobulated, dizzy crew.

The cause, a truly ludicrous amount of Smile Dip.

“Someone was supposed to chaperone!” The good captain Coraline, sitting on her rightful seat in the center of the Lost Cipher’s bridge, roared. “Who the hell was the chaperone?!”

“Dipper.” A meek voice chimed through the intercom.

Dipper threw his hands in the air, in shock, disbelief, and even outrage. “Oh, so that extra pack I slipped you meant nothing, huh? Neil? You traitorous oaf.”

“Full offense, Coraline is way scarier than you, dude.”

“You!” Coraline slammed a fist down on the arm of the chair hard, enough to dent the metal, her brows carved into a glare that could kill even the strong-hearted.

Unfortunately, her target was none other than Dipper Pines, whose resolve and stubbornness were nothing short of inhuman. “Like you weren’t busy in your room playing Peg The Nerd with your boyfriend!”

What followed was a long, loud silence. “You have three seconds to take that back before my sword meets your dick,” Coraline hissed. The temperature of the bridge dropped to below zero.

Raz, non-ace pilot and ace provocateur, snickered from the behind the wheel. “Ooh, be careful there, cap. He’s had some experience with swordfights.”

“Would you horny assholes just shut! Up!” Lili screamed, urged by the remaining vestiges of her sanity. “We have a Federation platoon right on our tail, loaded with enough shit to kill a ship twice our size, ready to plow us flat! And not in a fun way!”

Coraline blinked, breathed, sat up straighter in her seat. The weapons officer, as always, carried a point as sharp as her tongue. There was a time and a place for everything. The ability to recognize it is paramount to surviving the realm outside the law.

“Just, uh, wanted to clarify that- that me getting pegged - that’s not a thing.”

An ability that the Lost Cipher’s lead engineer clearly lacked. Coraline’s hand moved, slowly, to cover her face, as the tired captain sunk further in her seat.

“How bad is it?”

“Uh.” Dipper shook his head. Hearing that response over the intercom was an even bigger shock than the Federation ambush. “Distance 6000, closing in fast. E.T.A., fifty seconds. Fighters in twenty five.”

“Wybes, divert energy to the thrusters and rear shields.”

“Diverting!”

“Raz, full speed ahead. Don’t let them get in front of us.”

“Just how I like it!”

“Norman, plot us a warp course out, just in case.”

Norman made a noise and a nod, but otherwise provided no further comment.

“Mabel, Winnie, man the turrets.”

“Roger!”

“Okie dokie!”

Coraline left her seat, standing proud, brave, and tall in the maelstrom of incoming chaos, her cape flaring out behind her like the beautiful, terrible wings of a furious angel.

“Let’s show them how pirates do it!”

Mabel and Winnie raced through the ship, through corridors they knew better than the back of their hand, reaching the turret seats with lightning speed, nearly at the same time.

“This is Winnie! I’m at the portside turret. Switching to manual!”

“This is Mabel on the starboard side turret! Switching to manual!”

“Manual override granted. Power divergence is at max.”

Their display lit up at Lili’s command. The sea of stars replaced the darkened chamber, breathtaking to behold, and unfortunately marred by rapidly approaching dots of metallic white. With Mabel grinning and Winnie smirking, they thumbed the trigger and lined their first shot.

But it fell upon the intel officer to alert when hostiles are in the killzone.

“Fighters are in range!”

And it fell upon the captain to give the order.

“Light ‘em up, girls!”

No hesitation, no mercy. The first salvo of lasers took out six jets easily, turning them into scorched scraps and its pilots into cosmic dust. The swarm broke off, smartly, spreading out and away from the Lost Cipher to decrease the chances of a laser round to the wing, not that it stopped Mabel and Winnie from tagging one more each.

A festive lightshow was well underway, and the automated weapons haven’t even joined the fun. Under Lili’s eagle-eyed guidance, the smaller line of turrets were no less of a threat, chipping away at the scattered fighters until they too burst into an array of fire, dust, and blood. All the while, the photon peashooters of the fighters bounced harmlessly off of the Lost Cipher’s mighty shield, and their pitiful excuse for a guided missile fared little better. If not for the token resistance, it could be rightfully described as a massacre.

The scene unfolding would be cause for early celebration, for a wet-behind-the-ears captain. Coraline had her eyes glued on the radar. A second wave of fighters was fast approaching, and the capital destroyers were never far behind.

“Moving into cyber warfare range. How predictable could these normies get?” Dipper’s deep chuckle continued as he activated his cyber warfare suite, the screens unfolding in a circle around him.

Overconfidence can be a slow and insidious killer, and oh how the captain hoped her intel officer could learn that. “Stop talking and start walking.”

“I don’t walk.” Dipper cracked his fingers. The keyboard flashed to life. The dance has begun. “I run.”

To Dipper’s immeasurable disappointment, he needn’t run. The assailant’s tactics were as routine as they come. First, they aim for the life support, then the shields, then the engine. A newborn baby could’ve repelled their assault simply by mashing the keyboard. Some stragglers thought to make things interesting, going for the weapon systems and the radar, but they were too weak to matter, their numbers too little. It was a bore. However, the thought that somewhere on those destroyers, a squad of hackers, each with years upon years of experience under their belt, were being stumped by a boy barely in his teens, brought him a high better than any drug.

The same disappointment was felt by the other half of the Pines twins. Two more fighters fell to her deadly aim, marking the complete annihilation of the first wave. A second swarm was eager to replace the first, eager to die just like them. They broke formation, spreading out in pairs, keeping their distance from the ship, yadda yadda yadda, the 200th century called, it wanted its strategy back. Mabel set her sights on one particular fish in the cosmic barrel and thumbed the trigger, ready to unload.

That fighter banked a sharp, sudden curve, set its thrusters to maximum, and made a mad dash towards the Lost Cipher. The explosion as it crashed against the shields was grand, blinding, and sent Mabel into a pregnant pause.

More and more jets followed the same, shameful tactic. A mindless, suicidal strike against the shields of the Lost Cipher, faster than they could be shot down. Mabel and Winnie could only stare in slack-jawed stupor as their displays were filled with frightening, fiery red.

“Those jets are loaded with explosives and EMP charges,” Lili growled. Had she possessed powers still, the bridge would’ve been consumed by raging hellfire. “Disgusting.”

“Our shields are dropping faster.” Wybie always kept half an eye on the ship’s shield level, and though the numbers were yet to cause him worry, the existence of the phrase ‘death by a thousand cuts’ did not escape his notice.

Unlike her lover, Coraline had a cause for concern, and it wasn’t the fighter jets bombarding the shields or the approaching destroyers taking aim with their cannons. It was the dark presence emanating from the intel officer’s seat.

“Two can play at that game.” Dipper’s grin could only be described as beautifully maniacal. He cleared his display with a single swipe, setting a new stage for his next performance.

Already, Coraline had an inkling of Dipper’s intentions, and unlike the Federation dogs, she knew better than to try and curb it. “Lili, ease off the guns.”

“If you say so.” There was hesitation, but Lili’s faith on her captain far outweighed her doubts.

“Wybie, weaken the shields at point 7 and 13.”

“W-weaken?”

“The mad scientist has a plan.”

That was all the good captain had to say. A few taps by Wybie, and the two specified spots slowly lost their strength.

In perfect accordance to Dipper’s precise prediction, the fighter jets took notice of the false weakness in the armor, and were all but salivating to chase after it like the dumb dogs they are. Ten jets, five on each point, broke formation, aimed towards the weakened spot, eager to die for their despicable cause. Ten would suffice for now.

Dipper’s routine was nearly finished. Numbers, symbols, and lines upon lines of code streamed forth in maddening formation, unintelligible but to a chosen few, like eldritch texts of myth and legend. The culprit, the conductor of this chaotic orchestra, flashed a wicked smirk, unleashed an unhinged chuckle. One decisive motion, and the tumultuous tempest coalesced into a single, circular mass of black light.

“Your life…” Dipper raised his hands to the unfeeling cosmos. The executioner’s sword poised to end their sinful life. “…is mine!”

He slammed his palm against the black mass. Their fate is sealed.

“Code: Dark Prison!”

The assault was overwhelming, yet unseen. Dark tendrils emerged from his domain, traveling, ravaging through virtual space. Their target: the operating systems of ten particular fighter jets. A graze was all that it took for the tendrils to infiltrate the firewall. They cannot evade in the realm of ones and zeroes. They did not stand a chance.

First, their machines shuddered, the entire system blinking on and off, as the tendrils violated every crevice of the coding. Then, sparks, as their lights, their display, went dark. Last, the display returned, but bearing only the eternal image of skull and crossbones, and the lights returned to life, but purple, bearing the same shade as the Lost Cipher - the last color they’ll ever see. The takeover was complete.

“You wish for death,” he chuckled. “Be careful what you wish for.”

Their machines turned, with the pilots trapped inside helpless to resist. At Dipper’s command, the jets took aim at their own capital ships, and set off at maximum speed. His target: the charging cannons.

The other Federation dogs were left none the wiser. Their squadmates were preoccupied with seeking glory to notice they had broken formation. The operators on the destroyers saw nothing wrong with ten of their own moving against the current. The trapped pilots screamed for help, begged for mercy, pleaded for their compatriots to notice their plight, but all hope for salvation had been taken from them. Even the option of ejecting was no longer theirs to make. The shields protecting the destroyers, still recognizing the jets as vessels loyal to the Federation, did nothing to stop their approach. Not a soul suspected a thing, until it was too late.

The impact, and the resulting chain reaction of explosions, was nothing short of beautiful.

Dipper leaned back, legs crossed, basking in the lightshow of fire and plasma and smoke and dust, of a well-deserved victory. On the opposite side of the bridge, Norman’s nose began to bleed.

“Their main cannons have been disabled. Their ships’ overall integrity has been lowered by forty four percent. I estimate twenty percent of the crew were lost in the explosion,” he listed in cold satisfaction. “Hell, even got that five-headed dolphin in the blast.”

“The what?”

Dipper blinked and shook his head. The dolphin carcass on his display disappeared, because it was never there. “Disregard that last statement.”

Smile Dip, man.

Raz cheered, Wybie and Eggs shared a fist bump, and even Lili allowed a chuckle to slip past her lips, but Coraline didn’t let herself be swept by euphoria. Something about this scenario didn’t sit well with the good captain. The Federation could have picked a multitude of methods to truly cause them grief - a small boarding party, a cloaked bombing run, or even a precision cyber-attack. To announce themselves so brazenly, so quickly with open assault was a horrendous strategy. Almost deliberately so.

“Wanna turn around and finish ‘em off, cap?” Raz asked with a grin that split his face. Anything other than a yes would greatly disappoint him.

“No. That’s enough fun for today,” came Coraline’s firm reply. “Wybes, we’re warping out. Start diverting power. Norman, those coordinates better be ready.”

The disappointment Raz felt was immeasurable. It nearly undermined the joys of victory he experienced mere seconds ago. But he listened, and obliged. Everyone onboard the vessel did. The captain’s expert, sometimes even uncanny intuition was one the main reasons why they remain living and breathing today. And that intuition continued to serve them. Because she is correct.

“Warp signature detected! Dead ahead!”

The ship fell into deathly silence. Quiet, reserved Norman never raised his voice. Whenever he did, it was a signal, an omen, of grand significance. For this scenario, his message was simple.

“It’s a cruiser! Keter-class!”

Hell is coming.

Simply exiting warp space caused a shockwave that staggered the Lost Cipher’s shields. A fortress of steel blotted out the sea of stars ahead, nearly thrice the size of their own vessel. A crest, instantly recognizable, of ivory and crimson, depicting a snarling, vicious watchdog of Hell. One of the Federation’s famed flagship, the Krass Jagdhund.

“Oh, fuck off,” Wybie moaned. “It’s one blueprint.”

Onboard, legions upon legions of blind dogs allowed the mechanical marvel of a monstrosity, the floating palace, to perform at optimum, lethal efficiency. A brutal hierarchy ensured that total obedience was the only acceptable paradigm. From the peons, to the rooks and knights, to the bishops and queen, all conformed, in service of the king. At the palace’s peak, inside the vessel’s bridge, stood the leader, commander, king - a despicable soul without a heart.

“The Hündchen and the Ferkel received more damage than our predictions expected, but both ships are still operational.”

“The pirate ship’s shields have been successfully weakened. What is your next order, General?”

The despicable soul raised a hand. The tyrant shall enforce his decree.

“Deploy the warp jammer.”

From the stern of the Krass Jagdhund, hundreds of metal cylinders were jettisoned into the sea of stars. The cylinders broke into pieces, forming a net of neon green lines that covered massive swaths of the cosmos, before the lines vanished from sight. A cold sweat broke upon each member of the Mystery Kids. Escaping was no longer an option.

“They’re throwing up a net! We can’t warp out!” Raz’s grip on the wheel tightened, fingers growing cold.

“I knew it.” Coraline’s defiant glare never faltered, even in the face of certain doom. “This was all a trap.”

The Mystery Kids must beware, for commanding the mobile palace of metal threatening them, was none other than the wicked, immoral, General Hugh Leonard Estarossa.

“Checkmate, filthy pirates,” the tyrant boasted. “You will pay dearly for the murder of my son.”

Quite the dilemma. Ahead, a flying fortress, one of the most feared flagship of the Federation, and behind, a pair of destroyers, damaged, but still operational, itching for vengeance. Truly, a rock and a hard place.

Coraline bit her lip. The good captain could feel it. The unease, growing more palpable with each passing second. The eyes of her friends, her comrades, upon her, silently imploring on their next course of action. She had already decided, and it brought her no joy to choose this path.

“Everyone lie down and play it cool,” the good captain ordered. Every syllable tasted like bile. “We’ve broken out of prisons before. We’ll do it again.”

Their frustration was immense, their anger justifiably rising, but even more was their faith in the good captain, and in each other. Lili depowered the automated weaponry. Mabel and Winnie took their hands off of the turret’s controls. Dipper, begrudgingly, prepared to open a channel to the Jagdhund, to negotiate their surrender.

Unfortunately for our heroes, the wicked general had other ideas.

“Send this message to all units,” decreed the degenerate. “Fire at will. Take no prisoners.”

The crew sensed it. More than that, they saw it. The destroyers moving into position. The swarm of jets advancing in formation. The cannons emerging from their ports and taking aim. The energy spike coming from all directions. A stranglehold of unfeeling steel, primed, ready to kill.

“Captain,” Raz spoke, heavy and grim. “I don’t think they’re planning on locking us up.”

Not a word was spoken. Not a word was heard. The dark vacuum of space turned green, filled with the deafening roar of photon cannon fire.

The entire ship trembled. The impact was enough to knock the crew to their knees. Miraculously, the little ship with the shield that could stood strong, but under this barrage, no one had any illusion of how this story would end. The good captain, always the one to shoulder burdens, made the difficult decision - their survival was paramount.

“Neil, grab our emergency gear! Wybie, put everything into the shields!” Coraline shouted, barely heard above the violent cacophony. “Then get your ass to the hangar and fire up your bike!”

The order has been given. Like it or not, the order must be carried out. Neil sprinted as fast as he could to the cargo room. Wybie and Eggs adjusted the power as per the captain’s words. Mabel and Winnie unbuckled themselves from the turret seats. Coraline and the others present on the bridge got their feet under them and slowly made their way to the door, as the ship continued to rumble and weaken under the Federation’s brutal, relentless barrage. The unfortunate retreat seemed to be proceeding favorably, until Raz noticed a troubling sight from the corner of his eyes.

“Dipper, what are you doing?!”

Three heads swiveled at the same time, to see that the intel officer had returned to his rightful seat, with his cyber warfare suite open and running, and his hands dancing furiously at the keyboard.

“No! We are not abandoning this ship!” The look on Dipper’s face was one of stubborn, fearsome, unshakeable determination. The look of an iron will.

Coraline had seen that look before, many times. She had to choose her words carefully. “Dipper, I get that studying this ship is important to you, but you have to be alive to do it.”

“That’s the Watchdog of Hell! They don’t stop until their prey is nothing but scrap metal!” Dipper pointed a finger at the window, at the crest of ivory and crimson beyond. “If this ship goes down, I’m going down with it!”

“No friend of mine is dying a death this stupid!” The good captain meant every word, every syllable of that sentence. She couldn’t bear to have it happen. Not again. “Get your ass out of that chair before I make you!”

Dipper opened his mouth, and was preemptively silenced by a beep, a notification, from the navigation module.

Norman stumbled back to his station, and gaped. “Something just entered sensor range.”

“Reinforcements?” Lili muttered. Her mind was already running a mile a second, of the various ways this scenario could get worse.

From the bowels of the Lost Cipher, Wybie’s voice could be heard, shrieking, “One! Blueprint!”

“I don’t think so. This signature is too small to be a ship, or even a jet.” Norman leaned closer to the screen. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was small enough to be humanoid. Wink.

Dipper, ever the curious mind, opened a map of the area. “The unknown has entered the battlefield. Range 6. No, range 2!”

“That fast?!” Raz gasped, shocked beyond belief.

A bang. Another tremor rocked the ship. Red light bathed the bridge. They were distracted, and missed the signs. The scene out the window was a nightmare made real. A shower of shield shrapnels vanishing into the dark.

“They cracked our shield! A ship got through!”

Indeed. A Federation ship had dove into the shower. Its thrusters were set at maximum power, its nose aimed at the Lost Cipher’s bridge. Its intention couldn’t be clearer.

The distance closed. Not a single crew member looked away. Defiance, to the very end.

A blur of black and red. A flash of steel. A burst of fire and smoke, erupting only inches away from the glass.

Coraline and the others raised their arms to shield their faces, by instinct, from the blinding explosion. As they lowered their arms, as the smoke dispersed, a lone figure emerged.

“Senchou,” he spoke. “our paths cross once more.”

Coraline could only laugh, incredulous, relieved.

A solitary being clad in blackened robes stained with red. An enigmatic soul who had hidden his eyes behind a dark blindfold. A fearsome warrior wielding a deadly blade that never left its sheath. The one, the only, the lone swordsman of the astral sea.

“Kubo.”

“I assume you are in need of aid?” he asked, ever humble and cordial in tone.

Another burst of laughter. “Big time.”

Raz cleared his throat, a finger raised. “Uh, by the way, the Federation is a pretty nasty-”

“I am well aware of the Federation’s crimes.” Kubo’s voice dropped, much like the chills down everyone’s spine. “No convincing is necessary this time.”

“Oh, yes, please.” Dipper opened a new window on his display. The amount of data that he would gain of the elusive figure was simply mouthwatering.

A polite chuckle left Kubo’s lips. “I see the passage of time has not quelled Dipper’s fascination with me.”

“You’re his type.” Lili smirked. She got to live another day and they now have one of their most powerful allies present. Hell of a turnaround.

“You really are,” added Norman, much as he’d hate to admit.

The reunion was quaint, but the battle never ceased to rage. From the distance, through the field of shield shrapnels, a guided missile sped past. Its target: Kubo. The crew saw it approaching. No one in the crew was fast enough to warn him. The blast consumed him in a blanket of fire and ash.

The smoke cleared. Kubo remained. Unflinching. Not a hair, fold, or wrinkle out of place. He didn’t even look upset. Or at least, far as the crew could tell. He’s a difficult one to read, even without the blindfold.

“In return, I have one request, senchou.”

Kubo spun in place. The battlefield before him was fierce, and he faced it head on without a hint of fear. He shifted his grip on his blade. His blackened robes waved like the wings of freedom in the nonexistent wind.

“If you must blink, do it now.”

The lone swordsman launched into the fray. The crew could feel the entire ship being pushed backwards. A power to rend the cosmos.

A swarm of twenty jets were first in line, come to meet their maker. Kubo was damn eager to start. Twenty swings, faster than a hurricane. Twenty jets, gone down in one glorious explosion. His sword never left its sheath.

And the swordsman has only just begun. The fighters swarmed around the Lost Cipher like flies around a corpse. The Jagdhund was still scrambling jets by the dozen. The two destroyers were ready with another salvo of cannon fire. Hundreds more fools await. Hundreds more fools shall meet the same fate.

Aboard the Jagdhund, unrest was spreading in the bridge, due to the presence of a hostile unknown on the battlefield.

“The unknown just took out the 66th squadron!” one dog barked in panic.

“What is that…?” another whined as he leaned forward in curiosity.

“It’s an alien!” The despicable despot rose from his throne. “New orders, men! Shoot that thing down!”

A crooked finger hidden underneath an iron fist marked the fallen hero.

“Show that filthy beast the supremacy of humankind!”

Kubo sensed the change. The Federation forces have shifted their focus away from the Lost Cipher - good - and were now targeting him - better. All the easier for him to purge their existence from the universe. Hell, he had cut down twenty more fighters by the time this train of thought reached its end.

Meanwhile, the crew of the Lost Cipher has found themselves in quite the unusual position - that of a spectator. Indeed, all they could do was watch as, beyond the glass, Kubo flew across the astral sea like the wind itself, leaving a trail of flames, scrap, and bodies in his wake. When was the last time such glorious carnage occurred and they were not the culprits?

The door to the bridge slid open and the rest of the crew came barreling through. Clearly, they did not wish to miss the show.

“Did I hear that right?! He’s here?!” Wybie screeched, grinning.

Raz gestured towards the spectacle. “See for yourself.”

A thousand photon rounds turned the stars green, aimed towards Kubo. Pathetic. They cannot hope to match even a tenth of his speed. He dodged them all, moving at speeds impossible to follow by the human eye. Following the pointless onslaught, came an even more pointless swarm of a hundred jets. Kubo decided, he had wasted enough time. A fraction more of his power was needed.

Kubo stared down the swarm. Even hidden behind black cloth, each foolish pilot still felt the power of his gaze. The power of his blade. The power of a hurricane.

He breathed. Reared back. Breathed. Roared. And swung. One swing. One decisive arc. The dark sea turned blinding, merciless white. And the swarm was no more. Slashed to pieces, consumed by fire, reduced to atoms.

“Oh…” It was a miracle Wybie’s legs were still strong enough to stand, as he sighed, swooning, falling. “I’m in love.”

“Who in the bloody hell is that?” Winnie wondered in reverence, stepping closer to the front window. Violence has always intrigued her.

“That’s Kubo,” answered Lili.

“Who?” Eggs turned his head. His crewmates were being unnecessarily vague.

Coraline met his eyes with an amused glint. “Exactly.”

Kubo breathed once more. The battlefield had been cleared. Only stragglers remain, and the pilots within has learned. They have shown their true, cowardly colors, orders be damned. Most would consider such circumstance a victory, but Kubo didn’t allow himself to grin, or smirk, or smile. There was no pleasure to be gained from this. No peace. No going back. Not for him.

Kubo looked over his shoulder. His hidden eye pierced the impregnable hulls of the floating fortress. Every soul onboard in their right mind should be very, very afraid. How unfortunate then, that the one soul the others look to as a leader, wasn’t.

“Why have we stopped firing?! Why aren’t we sending out more fighters?!” he barked to the whelps scurrying around the bridge. “That filthy alien is still alive!”

One bridge lackey meekly raised a finger. “B-but, General, the alien has… that was nearly all of our ships…”

“We still have the Hündchen and the Ferkel. Order them to fire!” The general glared ahead through the glass. Pure hatred delivered without a word. “This battle isn’t over!”

Indeed, the two destroyers still remain. They have moved to flank either side of the Lost Cipher, to gain a better line of sight of Kubo. Really, all they did was move closer to their own demise. Kubo knew of their approach. He knew what must be done.

Kubo adjusted his grip on his blade. He held it close to his chest, both hands on the grip, the blade dividing his visage into two equal halves. His grip tightened, the lumber beneath splintering just a bit more. Upon his call, more and more fragments of his power surfaced. He felt the winds licking at the edges of his robes. Felt them welcoming him to their secrets, to the eye at the center of the chaos. All who support him, rejoice, and all who oppose him, despair, for now all shall witness the true power of a hurricane.

Kubo raised his blade to the heavens. And released.

Everyone saw. Everyone heard. Everyone felt. The explosion of energy, invisible yet tangible. The wind surging, spiraling around him, growing faster, stronger, angrier with every cycle. The impossible cyclone forming in the vacuum of starlight, dwarfing even the steel fortress. The act of divine right - a glimpse of the power possessed by beings above mere mortals.

Eggs’ jaw hit the floor at the speed of light. “That’s a tornado. In space.”

“Dude’s been chopping ships in half with a sheathed sword.” Wybie’s grin stretched to split his face. “Just enjoy the show.”

Kubo’s first target: the Hündchen.

Coraline’s honed instincts screamed. “Raz! Gravity anchors!”

Raz rushed to the wheel and pulled a lever. The gravity anchors were set in place. A smart move by the good captain. This will get extremely bumpy.

Kubo roared. The blade swung in a wide, downward slash. The violent vortex had no choice but to follow its will. The Lost Cipher began to rumble as the colossal tornado loomed ever closer, but the gravity anchors held firm, and the ship stayed in place. It could weather a passing glance from the whirlwind. Such a blessing was not given to the Hündchen.

It tried to escape. The crew onboard finally valued their own lives more than the order of their superiors, unfortunately, a tad too late. They could only flail like fools and beg in vain as their vessel was struck with the full brunt of the hurricane. The puny thing didn’t stand a chance. The wind swept it into the maddening torrent as if it was nothing but a plastic toy.

Next: the Ferkel.

A wide, upward slash. The tornado, and the Hündchen with it, came for the Ferkel from below. It too attempted an escape. The crew too was reduced to whimpering whelps. The result was all too predictable. Another toy swept away by the hurricane. And as both ships tossed and turned and twisted in the terrible torrent, impact between them was inevitable. Metal crashed against metal. Steel was bent, ruptured, torn apart. Sections of both ships were either breached or broke apart entirely. The helpless crewmembers within were sucked out by the vortex, and left to freeze and die in the dark vacuum. A terrifying, breathtaking spectacle.

Kubo glared over his shoulder.

Last: the Watchdog of Hell itself, the Krass Jagdhund.

“Stand your ground, men!” the tyrant screeched. Panic was settling. His grip was slipping. “If I see even a hint of cowardice on this vessel, I’ll cut you all down myself!”

And the worst of him surfaces. Threatening insubordination with death. There was no love between this captain and his crew. No respect. Only fear. And only weak men rule through fear.

Kubo has no time for men like him.

He spun in place. His blade sliced the dark sea in a perfect arc. The tornado, and the burning carcass of two Euclid-class destroyers, followed his will.

Hugh Leonard Estarossa, captain of the Krass Jadghund, feared general of the mighty Federation, let his iron fists fall slack to his sides, as he bore witness to a looming storm of steel.

Upon noticing their captain’s distress, the entire crew ceased their panic, got their act together, and successfully repelled the incoming debris field.

Hah.

“Abandon ship! Abandon ship!”

“Fuck this! Fuck everything!”

“I’m taking the escape pod, assholes!”

“You take it, you’re dead!”

“Every man for himself!”

Let this be a lesson to all who hears of this tale: Fear never prevails.

There was a certain sense of hilarity to be had, witnessing the once orderly officers of the Federation degenerate into frantic, backstabbing savages in order to ensure their own selfish survival. The hilarity only reached its zenith, because all the dogs onboard seemed to think surviving was a possibility.

The first impact was the tornado. The sheer force of it pushed the entire vessel back. Fierce winds reaching incalculable speeds flayed the steel off of the ship’s frame. Cannons were bent and broken, rendered inoperable. Even if the crew hadn’t run off like headless chickens, the ship was practically defenseless.

The second impact was the two destroyer carcasses. Not even the shield of a Keter-class cruiser was able to withstand two destroyers ramming it at full speed. The metal behind it fared no better. The highest quality space-grade steel reduced to cheap scrap in mere seconds. One explosion triggered another, then another, then another. Entire sections were set aflame, all hands lost. How far the Watchdog of Hell has fallen.

Now. The final strike.

Kubo laid a hand on the sheath, and with a flourish, finally, freed the blade beneath, letting the sheath disappear into the starlit sea. The steel was black, as dark as his robes, his hair, his blindfold. Sometimes, it would reflect the light from nearby stars, like a moon.

Within the burning bridge of the Krass Jagdhund, a bloodied tyrant rose from the wreckage, struggling to his feet. He gazed ahead, through the cracking window of his post, at the swordsman in black who had dealt his doom, his eyes filled with rage, denial, and fear.

“What. Are you.”

A soul with a heart. Unlike you.

Kubo squeezed the grip with both hands, and raised the blade to the heavens. The steel changed, glowing as it surged with power, no longer dark. It shined with its own light, like the sun.

“Tatsumaki! Zankatou!”

The fortress of steel, the snarling crest of ivory and crimson, the cruel captain, the despicable soul; one strike cleaved them all in twain.

Each half slid out of alignment.

The wind carried the blade’s sheath to Kubo’s hand.

“There is nothing my sword cannot cut!”

Kubo slid the sword inside the sheath with one smooth motion.

The universe turned white. The Watchdog of Hell was no more.

The Mystery Kids shielded their eyes from the blinding blast. The Lost Cipher’s gravity anchors were pushed to its limit, screaming as it struggled to keep the ship in place. When the ship finally stilled, and the sea of stars was dark once more, the crew lowered their arms and their guard. Their eyes searched, a singular question in their thoughts.

Where is Kubo?

Their answer came when a figure in blackened robes descended from the heavens to land gracefully upon the Lost Cipher’s figurehead.

“Holy-” Eggs opened his mouth to speak, but found no words matched what he felt better than, “Bloody hell…”

“Huh.” Winnie discreetly squeezed her thighs together. Still wasn’t clear on who he is, but damn. She knew what she’ll be dreaming tonight. “I’m wet.”

One step, and Kubo floated like a feather from the figurehead to come to rest before the bridge window. Though his eye was hidden, the crew could still feel his gaze.

“Did you blink?”

“And miss a second of that show? Hell no.” The good captain smiled. How joyful it was to smile.

Kubo dropped to a polite, practiced bow. “Then I am grateful.”

“Feels like that should be our line,” Raz chuckled, sheepish.

“Howzabout you step inside so we can show you just how grateful we really are?” Mabel’s grin and waggling eyebrows promised of titillating encounters.

Lili slapped her shoulder with the back of her hand, like a newspaper to an overzealous pup. “Down, girl.”

“Please do,” Dipper breathed, his eyes shining with the glint of scientific thirst.

Norman slapped his shoulder with the back of his hand, like a newspaper to an overzealous pup. He said nothing.

“Well, a proper introduction wouldn’t hurt.” Eggs shrugged. The boy was always excited to meet new friends.

“An introduction would be lovely.” Winnie leaned forward, and purred.

Lili could only sigh. “Neil, get the leashes. Again.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Kubo raised a hand. The barest hint of an amused smile had broken through. “I cannot stay.”

“Now, whaddya mean by that?” Wybie narrowed his eyes.

His eye might be hidden, but the crew could’ve sworn he’s trying not to look at them. “I have someplace else to be. My apologies.”

“Not even for a little bit?” Neil pouted, until a brilliant idea struck him. “Mabel’s got more Mabel Juice…”

“This time, with one hundred percent more sticky nut juice!” Mabel pumped a triumphant arm to the air. The others either snickered or groaned.

“One day, I’ll get you to stop referring to peanut butter like that.” One could imagine which camp Dipper belonged to.

Kubo twisted his lips. Genuine conflict raged within him. One even fiercer than the battle that had just taken place. “I do enjoy that drink. But I’m afraid I must refuse,” he eventually replied.

“Oh, come on! You can’t just take off already,” Wybie whined. And who could blame him? Everyone is fond of this lone swordsman.

“You gotta cut yourself some slack, dude!” Raz stretched, as if in demonstration. “Let loose! Have some laughs! Jam to some good music! Eat some Smile Dip! In fact, I think we still got a packet left over.”

Kubo stilled. A sharp intake of breath went unnoticed by the crew. Music. How he longed to create such auditory pleasures again. To hold his beloved instrument in his arms once more. But such a life was behind him. Far, far behind him.

“Crew.” Coraline’s words silenced any other plea they were about to make. “Kubo’s got his own shit to deal with. He just saved our lives. The least we could do is respect that.”

“But,” Coraline stepped closer to the window, stepped closer to Kubo, missing only a literal olive branch, “in my experience, shit is always easier to handle when you’ve got more than two hands.”

Coraline smiled. The good captain’s always was infectious. The spread was rapid, and acute. They glanced amongst themselves, and at Kubo, offering only their best, brightest smiles. A promise of true and pure companionship.

“My offer still stands, Kubo.” The power of friendship only emboldened Coraline. She was certain this was what he needed. “Join us and we can help you.”

The good captain’s uncanny intuition served her well once more. Indeed, she was right. The warmth, the bond between the Mystery Kids stirred something deep in his heart. He longed for this, more than anything. And yet…

“I mean no disrespect, but my answer remains the same, Coraline-senchou.” Kubo turned away and walked to the edge of the deck, his dark robes flowing behind him in the nonexistent wind. “Mine is a path best walked alone.”

Coraline’s smile faltered. They all faltered. But upsetting their savior would be the last thing they wanted.

“I’m not gonna pretend I’m not disappointed,” she said. “But the decision is yours. We can’t force anything on you.”

Kubo’s stony visage cracked to reveal a smirk. “It would be foolish of you to try.”

A few scattered chuckles came in response. A balm, for the melancholic heart within. Our heroes knew of the unspoken inevitability. This would be farewell. For now.

“Until we meet again, Mystery Kids,” Kubo said. A promise, and a premonition. “May your tale continue to be in your favor.”

Kubo turned to face the endless, eternal sea of stars. One step. Two steps. And the lone swordsman was gone, carried by the cosmic wind, vanishing into the dark expanse.

Coraline moved to the window, to lay a hopeful hand against the glass.

“Hope your tale goes in your favor too.”

Another name for this AU could be Anime Bullshit AU.

So! That was Kubo. Or, more accurately, that was Edgy Kubo. Sort of. He’s still nice, he’s just had a bucket of black paint dropped on him. Well, a couple other things also got dumped on him. It’ll all be explained, eventually. For now, just live with the mystery.

Also. Holy shit, ya boy actually did it. Ever since I started writing again, my dream has always been to write one of those absolutely BS over the top anime fight scenes. Finally, I came up with a scenario where shit like this can happen. It caused me a bit of trouble, I’ll admit, because I ended up worrying too much about it being good, that it slowed my writing speed down to a crawl. Thank god I got over myself.

Anyway. Hope you enjoyed reading that. Stay safe out there, folks. And here are your Japanese words for the day.

Senchou = (ship) captain

Tatsumaki = tornado

Zankatou = ship-cleaving sword.

#mystery kids #kubo and the two strings #coraline #psychonauts #gravity falls #paranorman #the boxtrolls #kubo #coraline jones #wybie lovat #razputin aquato #lili zanotto #dipper pines #mabel pines #norman babcock #neil downe #eggs #winnie portley rind #The Audacious Tales of the Lost Cipher

3 notes · View notes