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quokkacore · 3 years

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with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday.

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00.

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak.

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM]

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM]

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid.

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me.

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range.

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life.

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly.

[7:57 AM]

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took.

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School.

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.”

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation.

A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.”

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement.

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.”

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon.

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking.

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored.

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him.

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you.

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry.

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.”

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front.

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since.

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her.

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today.

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

“I don’t like her, Yeeun.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken.

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.”

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club.

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you.

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice.

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?”

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled.

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately.

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?”

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?”

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’.

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.”

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch.

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy.

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time.

Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord.

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends.

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?"

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!”

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months.

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung.

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung.

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history.

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since.

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything.

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration.

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to.

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel.

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face.

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also.

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college.

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing.

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!”

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss.

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either.

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only.

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters.

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked.

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—”

The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit.

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here."

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things.

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious.

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Perfect.”

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things.

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed.

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?”

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!”

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.”

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?”

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.”

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out.

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry."

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me."

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change."

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult. You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?"

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year."

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal."

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist.

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether.

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly.

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed.

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

“Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.”

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them.

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was.

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before.

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped.

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him.

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered.

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came.

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground.

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!”

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths.

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault.

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station.

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could.

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up.

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs @crescentjen

#kwritersworldnet #nct angst #nct x reader #jeno x reader #jeno angst #jeno fluff #nct au #jeno au #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop imagines #nct dream x reader #lee jeno x reader #my writing

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fallout4reactsblog · 5 years

Note

Companions react to in-game glitches and other inconsistencies happening around (/being used by Sole)? Flying on an engine, cars jumping around spinning at crazy speed, corpses/items moving like they're possesed, settlement structures hovering in the air with a single ladder piece attached, people "swimming" on land, instantly getting all items from a smallest piece of meat... (Just not normal gameplay features like saveloading and Pip-boy stopping time, but 100s of items in pockets will do)

Cait: She wiped the sweat off her brow, letting her ball bat hang loosely at her side. A trail of blood followed her fingers as her eyes surveyed the room, taking in the blood, guts, and general gore that now decorated the floor and walls. Her and Sole sure had made a mess.

They folded their arms, a satisfied smile on their face. “The loot’s gonna be great. You take that half of the room, I’ll take this half?”

“Yeah, alright.”

She moved toward her half as sole crouched down in front of a man whose head had been cracked open like a walnut, brain spilling out of the ruined shards of his skull. Without hesitation, sole picked up a lump of brain flesh, turning it over in their hands before sinking their fingers in.

“Sole, what the fu-”

Her words stopped short as sole pulled a 10 mm pistol from the chunk, looked it over and made a face, then tossed it to the side. They pushed their hand in again, this time emerging with a stimpack, which they tucked into their pocket.

“What the fuck?” Cait whispered as sole pulled out several pieces of armor, a set of road leathers, and a tattered but still-intact box of InstaMash.

Sole looked up, the box still in their hand. “What’s wrong?”

“You just- all that- from one chunk of brain?”

“Uh, yeah? That’s the stuff they had on them. Not much of interest.”

“Normal people don’t do that.”

They just laughed.

“I’m serious, sole. That’s fucked up. You can’t pull a pistol out of somebody’s brains and not expect people to look at you funny!”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Curie: “Madame/Monsieur, do you think that man is… alright?”

“Which one?” Sole looked up from their drink, peering around the bar.

“The man over there, who is having a seat on, ah, nothing.”

Sole squinted toward where Curie was pointing, and sure enough, some strange man was relaxing next to a table, seemingly comfortable in a ninety degree squat. He took a sip of beer as if to prove it.

They hummed, eyebrows furrowed. “Goodneighbor folks sure are strange, huh?”

“I do not think he is well.”

“Maybe he’s just had a bad dose of Jet? Or too much to drink?”

“Best not to stare, I think. It is not polite, oui?”

They laughed a little and turned into their drink. “I suppose so. let him do what he needs to do.”

“At the very least, it will be an excellent workout for his thighs.”

Danse: He’d pinch the bridge of his nose, if not for the power armor, so he settled for folding his arms instead.

“Sole. Carrying all of that junk around is just going to slow you down. Let it go.”

They huffed, shoving another tin can into their pocket. “They have more uses than you think they do.”

“Is the same to be said for the empty beer bottles?”

“Actually,” they said, scooping two up and shoving them into the same pocket, “it is.”

“The alarm clocks?”

“Even more useful.”

“The typewriter?” he asked, watching them shove a whole one into the chest of their vault suit, never to be seen until they found a workbench.

“The most useful of all.”

He eyed how smooth the pockets of their suit were, despite the number of items he knew they were carrying. He was surprised they had room for junk at all, given the number of weapons, ammunition, and armor they were carrying.

“Sole, how strong are you, exactly?”

“Not sure,” they replied, scooping up a screwdriver and a hammer, tucking them into the same pocket the tin cans and beer bottles had gone into.

“Better question, how do you manage to pack all of those items into your pocket?”

They looked down at the pocket, which hadn’t even begun to look full. “I don’t know. I just put stuff into there until I can’t carry any more.”

“That works?”

They shrugged. “Somehow. How do you think I get you to carry all that stuff?”

His eyebrows shot up. “I’m carrying things?”

“Uh-huh. You’re great at it.”

“What am I even carrying it in?”

They just smiled at him. “Does it matter if I take it all out after?”

“Yes. It does.”

They refused to answer, and all Danse could hope was that they didn’t try to store things in his power armor joints.

Deacon: “Hey, sole, come over here a sec.”

Sole wiped the super mutant blood off their arm, flicking it to the side as they picked their way over to him. “What’s up?”

He pointed wordlessly at the body of a super mutant that was slowly sinking into the ground, headless. Sole stood silently at his side, watching the Earth slowly devour the carcass, inch by inch consuming it. They seemed to stand there for hours as it sank. There was no sound, no wet sucking or movement of Earth. Simply a super mutant defying any laws of physics that Deacon had ever known.

When all was said and done, and the last of the body had disappeared, Deacon nodded sharply. “His soul and body are with Todd now.”

Sole stared at him a moment before laughing, an ugly snort-laugh that turned their voice up an octave. “Todd? Who the hell is Todd?”

“I don’t know,” he said, giggling a little himself. “Someone who likes super mutants I guess.”

“He must like them a lot!”

They laughed a moment longer, then sole sighed and reached into their pocket for a tin can. Solemnly, they placed on the spot that the super mutant had disappeared.

“Here lies Howard, consumed by Todd. May he find his peace.”

“Howard is a terrible name for a super mutant.”

They stuck out their tongue at him. “I don’t see you coming up with any ideas.”

“Super mutants need weird names, like ‘Blood’ and ‘Guts’ and, uh…”

“Hamburger,” sole supplied.

He nodded sternly. “Exactly. Now you’ve got the hang of it. Here lies Hamburger. May he find peace with Todd.”

Sole placed another tin can on top of the other with a flourish, and they walked away, discussing other good super mutant names.

Gage: “Boss, I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot.”

“How, uh, solid would you say the average ghoul is?”

“Depends on the ghoul. Bloated ghouls are about ten percent, because they’re all, y’know, bloated. Your standard run-of-the-mill crazy ghoul is about forty percent. They get pretty squishy because of the rads. Sane ghouls are a solid eighty, which is higher than the human seventy, because they lose a lot of soft tissues.”

“So they should not be able to be halfway through walls?”

They hummed thoughtfully. “Not unless they’re in a hole.”

He eyed the wall the ghoul was stuck in, nudging it with the butt of his gun, and determined it to be quite solid. “No hole. Just a ghoul through a wall.”

“Gage, ghouls can’t go through walls if the wall is solid. Someone chopped a ghoul in two and mounted it on either side of the wall.”

He poked at it a little more. “It’s definitely in one piece, boss.”

“Gage.” Their tone was warning. “I’m going to come over there, but if I find out you’re fucking with me, or pulling my leg, I’m going to kick your ass. Got it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

They appeared at his side, almost scarily quiet. He gestured to the body vaguely, half-disgusted.

“Yeah, they shouldn’t do that.” Sole nudged at the thing with their boot, making a face. “Just leave it.”

“Doubt I could get it out of the wall anyway.”

They snorted, then leveled their pistol to put one round in its back. Gage leapt away as the wall suddenly decided the ghoul shouldn’t be in it and launched it across the room. Sole’s hand shot out as if to protect him, and they stared at it a moment.

“Just leave it,” he echoed.

“No kidding.”

Hancock: He stared down the road at the body of a now-dead raider, one hand gently rubbing his forehead. He turned back to sole, who was now shaking out their wrist. He looked back down the road.

“Damn, this batch of Jet is fucked.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I swear you punched that guy all the way down the street.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. That actually happened.”

“Huh?”

He peered back down the street, suddenly trying to put reality together where he thought there was only illusion. “So, how strong did you say you were?”

“Definitely not strong enough to punch a guy down the block, I’ll tell you that.”

He considered that. “So the Jet’s not fucked, but physics is?”

They laughed. “Seems so. Gravity decided to not come in today.”

“Hey, he earned it. Hardest worker around. Let him take a vacation, right?”

“As long as I don’t go floating off, I’d love to keep punching people and watching them fly away.”

“Pretty entertaining if you ask me.”

They turned to him with a mischievous smile. “Bet it’s even better on Day Tripper.”

“I’ve got some of that. Right, ah, here.” He pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket, shaking it enticingly.

“Well, let’s go find some more raiders and see if we can make it happen again.”

MacCready: He stretched out, listening to the bones in his back pop. “I say we call it a night. It’s dark, and I’m getting tired.”

“I could go for a nap,” they replied, though they didn’t look all that tired. “I think that Outpost Zimonja is close to here, we can catch some shuteye there.”

“It’s safe?”

They chuckled. “Should be. I built the place myself.”

“I guess it’ll have to do then,” he said teasingly. “Though how good your judgment is, no one knows.”

“Jury’s still out,” they replied, happily playing along, “but the other settlers aren’t complaining yet.”

They made their way to the settlement, sky darkening around them. Sole pushed through the gate at the front of the settlement, and showed him past the turrets and guard tower to the rest.

It was small but otherwise cozy, and sole beckoned him over to the workbench. “I need the stuff you’re carrying for me.”

“Sure.”

He rifled around in his pockets, passing every item to sole’s outstretched hands. That it took a few minutes was expected, but after the tenth desk fan and thirtieth ball peen hammer, he was getting suspicious at the amount of stuff he was finding on him. How did he carry that much weight? It seemed, well, impossible.

“That should be it,” they said after nearly twenty minutes, tucking a handful of pencils into one of the workbench drawers. “Thanks.”

He stared down at his thin arms, trying to imagine how he hadn’t even noticed all the items he’d been carrying. “What the heck did you do to me?”

“Oh, with all the stuff you were carrying. I just asked you to pick it up. You don’t seem to notice when I ask you to grab it for me, as opposed to when I hand it to you myself, so I just asked you to grab the junk I couldn’t carry.”

“But- I- I don’t-”

They slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Try not to think about it too hard. Let’s just get some rest, okay?”

“Sure,” he said, but the way his thoughts were spinning told him he wouldn’t be sleeping at all.

Nick: “Sole,” he said, honestly trying his hardest not to laugh, “you can’t do that.”

“And why not?” They grinned at him, hands on their hips, clearly pleased with their work.

“It’s just- It’s not right sole. You can’t put beds in walls and expect everything to be okay.”

“I think I can,” they replied. “The settlers can sleep in it just fine.”

“How the hell do they do that?”

“Simple. They lay in the wall too.”

That was enough to make Nick Valentine, synth detective, lose his composure, and he burst out laughing. Not a small giggle, either, a full laugh, one that left him doubled over and leaning against the wall for support. He hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time, but the thought of some poor settler laying in a wall to sleep had him in absolute fits.

When he finally calmed, only a smile lingering on his face, he gestured to the half-inside, half-outside bed and simply said, “How?”

“Oh, silly Nick,” they teased. “It’s on a rug! Don’t you know that if it’s on a rug, it can do anything? I can put beds through walls, I can put bookshelves though walls, I can put anything through a wall, as long as it’s on a rug.”

“Oh my God.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, still smiling. “I don’t even want to know how you figured that out. So you saw the ways you could break all the rules and immediately decided you’d put beds through walls.”

“Of course! What else does one do with such power?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Are you going to put the bed back inside?”

“Heavens no. Then it wouldn’t be funny at all, just boring. It’d look like every other house out there.”

“It does add a certain, ah, uniqueness I suppose.”

They bumped his shoulder with theirs. “Now you get it.”

Preston: “Sole, when I asked you to build a settlement in Hangman’s Alley, you know this isn’t what I meant.”

They shrugged. “You said to build a settlement, so I did.”

He raised an eyebrow, still staring at the supposed settlement they’d built. A single staircase touched the ground, and the rest of the building expanded from that, hovering above a grid of garden plots that held the crops and water pumps that fed the settlement. As impressive as it was, he couldn’t imagine it was safe.

“I know what you’re thinking.” They spoke before he could even open his mouth. “I promise that it’s safe. I just got tired of building the same old buildings over and over again, so I wanted to do something different. I tested it before I let anyone in and I did the math, and I swear that it’s not coming down anytime soon.”

He glanced over at them, and though they were his general, all he saw in their eyes was a need for approval. Maybe a hint of embarrassment at having been caught, but mostly a need for him to trust them and like it as much as they did.

“Well,” he sighed, turning back, “it’s definitely new. And practical, given the small space.”

“Do you like it?” Their voice was so hopeful, so bright, and yet so fragile.

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I like it a lot.”

“Do you want to have a look inside.”

“I’d love to.”

X6: “You cannot fly.”

“Yes I can,” they said cheekily.

“No, you cannot.” He folded his arms. “Not without the assistance of some sort of machine.”

They held their hand out. “Give me your jacket.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly conveying his displeasure with that idea.

“I promise to give it back,” they huffed. “I’ll even clean it for you after. I just want to show you that I can, in fact, fly.”

He considered the offer a moment, then begrudgingly removed his coat. Their face lit up and, for a brief moment, he almost didn’t regret it.

“Alright, X6. Watch and learn.”

He watched, slightly curious, as they laid the coat on the floor, the crouched down and positioned themselves so they were standing on it. He almost protested their dirty boots on the leather, but they had offered to clean it, so he decided against it.He simply observed them grab to solid handfuls of fabric, getting a good hold on it, and then he watched them jump.

And somehow, they stayed there, floating in the air on top of his coat.

He slid his glasses down his nose, and softly murmured, “Holy shit.”

“See?” They jumped again, rising further into the air. “I told you I could fly.”

“You did. My apologies, ma’am/sir. Though I would recommend you bring this to the attention of our scientists immediately.”

They released their hold on the coat, falling gracefully to the floor. “Why, you think they’d be interested?”

He leveled a stern look at them over his glasses. “You just broke physics, ma’am/sir. I think the term ‘interested’ is an understatement.”

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katedoesfics · 4 years

Text

Shadows of the Yiga | Chapter 42

Black Vultures – Halestorm

I'm on the edge of the war. I'm holding on and hanging by a thread. I am the eye of the storm, and you haven't seen the last of me just yet. I'm falling down but I'm not out. I'm coming back for more. I don't give in, I don't give up. I won't ever let it break me. I'm on fire, I'm a fighter. I'll forever be the last one standing. Black vultures circling the sky, pick at the pieces. Scavengers wait for me to die, but I'm not defeated.

Urbosa stood atop her Divine Beast, Naboris, looking out over the desert beside Cottla. Cottla pointed a finger in the direction toward the Yiga Clan hideout, and a wicked grin split her face.

“You bitches are going down,” she said. She put her hands on her hips proudly. “They won’t even see it coming!”

“Let’s hope not,” Urbosa said.

Cottla smiled. “It’s kind of an honor to be able to see something that was once used to defend our world.” She turned to Urbosa. “I wonder what they were like? The heroes from generations past.”

“Something tells me they were better cut out for the job,” Urbosa said.

Cottla’s grin widened. “I have complete faith in you all,” she said. “I’ve known Link a long time. He’s a hero, alright.” She flipped the radio in her hand, bringing it to her ear quickly as it crackled to life. She strained to listen to the voice on the other end, but the Sheikah that guarded them were quick to react, throwing up their defenses as Yiga Clan soldiers lunged at them out of thin air.

“Urbosa!”

Urbosa snapped her fingers, her powerful strikes of lightning striking the around them.

Cottla shouted into the radio. “We’re under attack!”

Teba’s voice came through clearly after a moment. “Now! Do it now!”

Urbosa slammed her hand against the controls and the Divine Beast began to tremble. The Sheikah continued to stave off the attacking Yiga’s, keeping Urbosa and Riju in their protective barrier as Naboris began to pull in energy before releasing a mighty blast toward the Yiga Clan base.

*****

“This thing’s a piece of junk,” Revali said as he peered at the controls. “I mean, sure, it may have been advanced technology back in the day, and yeah, it’s intimidating as shit.” He crossed his arms. “But what’s it got on a couple of nukes, anyway? We’d be far better off.”

“I’ve heard legends of the ones who once manned these machines,” Koko said. “From Impa.” Her lips pulled into a smile. “The one who controlled Vah Medoh, here, reminds me of you.”

Revali raised a brow. “How so?”

“He was an arrogant asshole who hated the Chosen Hero.”

Revali smiled. “Maybe we’re related,” he said with a grin. “But I wouldn’t go so far to say I hate Link. I tolerate him.”

Koko tensed, throwing up a protective barrier as Yiga soldiers appeared out of thin air, lunging at them.

“Shit,” Revali spat. He listened to the radio as Cottla’s panicked voice came through. Soon after, Teba’s command rang loud and clear, and Revali threw himself at the control panel to launch the attack as Purah had explained to them.

Vah Medoh was not nearly as close to Gerudo Desert as he had hoped to get it, but it would had to be close enough. The Divine Beast perched itself on the edge of a canyon, the engines roaring as it gathered in energy, and in a flash, it launched it’s deadly attack.

*****

Mipha watched as the trunk of her Divine Beast, Vah Ruta, moved up and down, water shooting into the air. She cocked her head and smiled as it responded to her touch. “It really is incredible,” she said to Imap, who stood at her side. “To think these machines were onced used to save our kingdom. And the ones who controlled them… I wonder what they were like?”

Impa smiled. “I see a lot of them in all of you,” she said. “I suppose Hylia has a way of finding the traits of heroes in others, no matter what generation they are.”

Mipha turned her gaze to Impa. “And how many generation of heroes have you seen?”

“There’s nothing that gets by you,” Impa said. She looked out over the horizon. “In this body, only this one. But my spirit has seen countless.” She smiled. “It’s a funny feeling,” she continued. “Seeing the reincarnations of the heroes present themselves every time. I can’t help but to remember their first reincarnations. It’s like seeing a dear friend whom you haven’t seen for a very long time.”

Mipha’s smile faded after a moment. “Yet, they don’t remember you.”

“I believe a part of them does,” Impa said. “In some way. After all; the spirit of Hylia and her Chosen Hero live on in them. Even they must feel a sense of recognition and familiarity towards one another at times.”

Mipha’s brows furrowed. “They do?”

But Impa did not have a chance to speak further as the Sheikah around her sprang into action, quickly fending off a surprise attack from the Yiga soldiers.

“Quickly!” Impa barked at Mipha. “To the controls!”

Mipha hurried to the control panel as the radio nearby crackled to life. She could barely hear over the sounds of the fighting, but Teba’s voice rang through loud and clear. “Do it now!”

Vah Ruta’s engines whirled as it positioned itself, facing toward the Yiga Clan hideout. It gathered in energy, then shot its attack towards the enemy base.

*****

Daruk looked out over the mountain range where Vah Rudania was perched. Even as far up as they were, Hyrule seemed to stretch on endlessly. There was no sign of the southern desert, and his brows furrowed.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked Purah. “I mean, we can’t even see the desert. We’re hundreds of miles away.”

Purah put a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. “You know, I’m smarter than I look,” she said. “Trust me, this will work.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Purah sneered at him, leaning forward with both hands on her hips. “It will work!” She straightened and crossed her arms. “It worked last time.”

“That was thousands of years ago,” Daruk muttered.

Purah waved him off with her hand. “Never doubt the abilities of a Sheikah.”

“I don’t,” Daruk started. “But I do doubt the reliability of a machine that has been sitting around, undetected, for thousands of years.”

“That’s still a doubt on Sheikahs,” Purah said. “We don’t make things that break so easily.” She turned to the radio as it crackled to life. Urbosa’s voice came through first.

“What?” Daruk hissed. “They’re under attack?”

“Get ready,” Purah barked at him. “We’re firing on all cylinders whether we get Teba’s command or not.”

“I don’t -” But he was cut off by Teba’s voice. Without hesitation, Daruk slammed a fist on the control panel, and the Divine Beast roared to life, gathering in energy before firing off toward the horizon.

*****

One after another, the Divine Beast shot their deadly blasts, dragging four red tails behind them as they fired at the Yiga Clan hideout. Though the hideout was hidden in the valley just at the edge of the desert, Link could clearly see the eruption from the blast. Smoke, sand, and debris clouded the area around the hideout, and at their distance, they could even feel the tremor from the attack as it stretched across the desert just ahead of the sound of the blast.

Just moments after the blast subsided, the air snapped as one by one, the Champions returned. After a moment of taking in their surroundings, they turned their gazes to the blast where a cloud of sand still hung over the valley.

“Bullseye,” Revali said. He brushed his hands together. “Champs: one. Yiga: zip.” He turned his gaze to Link. “What are you hanging around here for?” He grinned.

“Oh. Right. Silly me.” And in another snap, he was gone, only to appear in an instant on the battlefield below, bow drawn as he plunged into the battle.

“Idiot,” Urbosa hissed.

“I’d say he’s going to get killed,” Mipha started. “But I think that’s wishful thinking.”

Urbosa grinned. She cracked her knuckles, winked at Link, then followed after Revali with Daruk on her heels.

Before Link could think to argue with them, they suddenly found themselves surrounded as several Yiga soldiers appeared before them suddenly. They sprung into the air with their blades raised, then plunged down toward them.

Link was quick to block a blow with his dagger, pushing forcefully against the Yiga that attacked him. But just as the Yiga seemed to back off, several more pressed forward. Link dislodged them quickly, jumping backwards to avoid their swings and spinning around on his heels to block another attack.

Lost in the heat of the battle, his mind went on autopilot, easily remembering all the training that Impa had beaten into his head. Though his blade was a little shorter, and admittedly less deadlier, he had no problems keeping up his defenses, blocking their blows and giving him enough space to keep out of their reach. Without the extra reach of the sword, however, Link was able to do little more than block their attacks. He was wasting too much of his energy on defense; he needed to find a way to deal some damage. It was risky, but if he didn’t act soon, he would exhaust his energy and make careless, costly mistakes.

So when the next Yiga sprung at him, he stepped out of the way, grabbing at the Yiga’s arm, catching him in surprise and causing him to stumble and fall. As he did so, Link pulled the Yiga soldier toward him, plunging his blade into his enemy’s guy. He yanked it out quickly, letting the Yiga drop to the ground where he choked and gasped, the light fading from his eyes.

Link was already moving on to his next target, but the Yiga had already picked up on his change of tactic and were better prepared than his first victim, dodging him with ease as he lunged at the next one. They came at him faster, crowding him, and he had no choice but to move back to his defensive stance, moving quickly to block and dislodged their blows.

Within moments, he found himself completely surrounded. He looked around as they pressed in, grinning wickedly at their cornered prey. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the blade in his hand and his pulse quickened nervously. It didn’t seem so long ago he had found himself in a similar situation; only this time, he didn’t have the dark power to rely on. He knew he would not be able to fend them all off, and he was sure they would not give him any opportunities to escape their hold. He was sure they wouldn’t kill him right away; they still needed to harness the power of the Triforce. But if he ended up as their captive again, he was a dead man. Even if it meant taking his own life before they could take the Triforce from him.

He really considered this option as they continued to press in. He would not hand himself over so easily. If it was what it came down to, he was prepared to do it without hesitation. He went to move his hand to the butt of his gun, but just as his arm twitched, the Yiga soldiers lunged at him all at once with raised blades.

He didn’t have time to react. He raised his blade defensively before him, but it did him no good. He was knocked violently to the sandy ground, and a sudden, piercing pain in his side overwhelmed him. He clutched at the wound as the blade was withdrawn, blood seeping through his fingers. When he looked up, all but one Yiga had backed away. The Yiga stood over him threateningly, tossing his blade confidently in the air. He gripped it in his hand, raised his arm, and Link closed his eyes, preparing to meet his certain death.

#loz #botw #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #fic #fanfic #soty #shadows of the yiga #soty42

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esuteryc · 5 years

Text

Short-lived

In the building of a call center, hundreds of thousands of phone calls flooded the switchboard operators’ offices at an abnormal rate requesting for emergency dispatches. The first responders were naturally sent to the scenes. A lot of events were unfolding in various places. Somewhere in the suburbs firefighters had to put out the flames engulfing a house, at a different neighborhood medical officers were wheeling out body bags on the stretchers into their ambulances, and meanwhile a unit of police officers was dispatched to investigate a reported disturbance occurring in the nearby areas. While the media outlets broadcast the news on a daily basis, I seldom paid attention to it until I was involved in the unexpected catastrophe. I was in Chinatown when it began. My coworkers and I work in the Waste Management and we happened to end our shifts an hour before twelve. They wanted to go to "Golden Wok" for lunch today but I wanted to go home. Nevertheless, I was forced to tag along with them. The food we ordered would unfortunately be my last meal. Upon digestion I find myself in the restroom and the ten minutes I spent inside the stall was all it took. By the time I rejoined my coworkers, the world has already changed and tipped against humanity’s favor.

Chinatown, an attraction site for tourists to come experience exquisite foreign food, ironically has become a different type of attraction site and its new clients were eager to order. The new clients were rowdy, crazy, impatient, and hungry and they were already working up an appetite. When I stepped out of the restroom, the customers, including the staffs and my coworkers, were being devoured from head to toe by them. Infighting ignited between the chiefs and the uninvited customers behind the kitchen, the waitresses were being mobbed, and my coworkers were served on the table. Blood splattered on the floor, the counters, and the walls. Broken dishes and chairs were scattered everywhere as they ate. The exit was blocked by the ongoing feast. They were all goners and there was nothing I could do. The only way out was through that glass window. Without a choice, I ran through the glass shattering it with my momentum. I grunted as I got up and I rubbed the broken pieces off of me. The streets were mixed with the sounds of sirens, screams, gunshots, car alarms, and car honks. I need to get out of here. My goal right now was to get to the parking garage and into my car, which was four blocks away from where I am. While the chaos occurred, I swiftly and stealthily vaulted through the street vendors obstructing me. I also ignored the cries and the pleas of help on my way and I felt sorry but I wasn't sincerely apologetic.

At the vicinity of the parking garage, somebody thought the elevators were still convenient. Ding! When the door was opened the unlucky fool waiting for it was instantly grabbed and dragged into a slaughter. My car was at the fourth level, stairs it is. Huffing and puffing, I got in my Volkswagen, cracked open the window, covered it with my sun shades, and locked my doors. I turned on the radio to tune into 93.9, carefully adjusting the volume as to not capture attention.

"Please stay tune for the following urgent news special bulletin. We will return to our regular schedules programs following this report. Meanwhile, civil unrest is being reported throughout multiple local districts. If you are in an area with a lot of activities, please remain indoors. You are advice to lock up all windows and doors. Evacuation sites will be posted soon. There are numerous reports that riots and outbreaks has started. The cause of them is currently unknown."

It seems like the disaster was being reported nationwide and the news wasn't providing any explanation. I turned off my engine. An evacuation site sounds like an ideal place to go but I wasn't sure about the decision. If this outbreak remains uncontained, there is a hundred percent possibility that any established refuge would fall apart. It will only become more difficult to runaway if I was caught in the midst of that setting. Can I drive back home? Home is miles away and going there now is out of the option given the unknown dangers lurking. For awhile I despaired but when I thought about it again, I was thankful I didn’t act rashly as I would come to regret it later. I'll need to take my chance which is why I decided to wait for this crisis to settle down until the streets were cleared.

My activities following the days I stayed in my car were limited. I was a prepared person. In case of an emergency, I always kept a case of water bottles in my car. I also had a small portion of junk food, fruits, and canned foods which I relied on during this time. I knew this would not be enough so I had to ration and I didn’t venture too far out of my car when I had to take care of "business." As I have predicted, multiple evacuation sites were announced and the news stations were urging everyone to go there. However, within the hours and days, officials were forced to declare that the sites were no longer safe. My food supplies were gone when the news stopped broadcasting and I was near famished. I decided to head out after weeks of lying low. The only thing I had on me was my duffel bag.

I proceeded to the streets in hopes of finding a grocery store. At the intersections littered with abandon vehicles, I was able to find a loaded Mossberg 590 and some ammo near a police car. I felt a little bit safer so I continued onwards undisturbed. Everything went accordingly until I discovered a market. I tried to enter but the glass door was locked. There was nobody inside when I peered through the windows. Should I risk breaking in? What if the alarms work? I've been lucky so far but if I wasn’t careful that luck can go down the drain. I have to take some risks, I concluded. I’ll be dead either way especially if I don’t scavenge for food.

The alarms didn’t ring when I smashed the glass door by the stock of the shotgun to gain entry. Good. My thoughts were racing. I rushed in to fill my bag with as much food as I can but light enough so that I won’t be overburden. Take only what is necessary, I reminded myself. This could have been a successful raid but when I checked my back, I saw two of them upon the door followed by seven others behind. They must have heard me and wondered in despite my silent efforts. Shooting them would only attract more and I would be trapping myself in the store. There was an exit sign that I noticed. I had no choice but to escape using that door without knowing what was outside of it. I have to stay calm. Count down to three.

Three, I have to survive no matter what.

Two, get out of here as soon as possible.

One, I pushed open the door.

The alarm echoed throughout the city taking me by surprise. This is a bad! I thought it were disarmed but I was mistaken. I’ll just have to head to the direction that my feet were taking me. I glanced to the left and my eyes widened. The alley way was beginning to be blocked and at the right there were at least five of them. I raised my gun, here we go. My uncle taught me how to shoot a rifle when I was a kid but I didn’t take it serious at the time. I’ll have to stick with the basics of what I remembered. My eyes locked onto the closest target and I aimed for the stomach.

Boom! The blow grazes my target’s shoulder and he makes a twirl motion. He was still on his feet. I felt the sting on my shoulder from the result of the recoil. I need to get closer. I got in close range for a clearer shot. Four foot from my enemy, I aimed for the neck.

Boom! The recoil of my shot allowed me to hit his face. My first victim went down. Two of them were staggering so I skipped them considering their threat level was zero. Regardless of that I ran into another pair anyways. I took aim.

Boom! Double kill. I managed to do this because they were lined up. I made it to the end of this alley way but my situation didn’t improved. They have formed a horde and have occupied both sides of the streets. There was no way I could evade any of them. My breathing is getting heavier and my heart is pounding harder. I was tired and out of stamina. This will be the end for me, I closed my eyes.

“No!” I shouted at myself. Don't give up, I thought. I am a fighter, there has to be another way. I looked around for an opportunity and I found my answer. There it is! It was an alleyway. I ran for it while I reloaded the shotguns. The moans and groans grew louder behind me as they gathered. There was no turning back anymore. I pumped the forearm of this shotgun and took a few deep breaths. This is a dark alley. Exposed in darkness, I couldn’t even count how many there was ahead but I know my fourth victim is coming to me. I raised my gun and took aim.

Boom! My fourth kill went flying. I pump the forearm and aim at the next shadowy figure.

Boom! Headshot! I took a deep breath, pumped the forearm, and aimed again.

Boom! I grazed my target’s face almost missing my blast. Slow and steady now, I mumbled under my breath, pumped the forearm, and aimed.

Boom! I was getting good at this but it wasn’t over yet. Another one is approaching me so I kicked her and pumped the forearm.

Boom! She’s dead. This is what it comes down to now. I kick, I shoot, and therefore I live. I need to start treating this like a new daily routine. If I can do that then I might be able to make it out alive. I pumped the forearm and took aim.

Boom! I hit the shoulder blade but he wasn't going down. Still standing and inching closer to me, an idea hatched in my mind. I grabbed the shotgun by the barrel and with every ounce of my strength I whack his head against the stock. He drops before me but he continued to move. I pump the forearm and shot him while he was on the ground.

Boom! How is he still alive? I repeat and boom! Finally, he’s dead. I was feeling invincible. Nothing can stop me! I smiled for the first time ever since this epidemic commenced. My kill count is increasing. This one advancing to me is getting closer and she looks cocky as she gets ready to bite my face off. As soon as I pump up my shotgun, I'll send her dead along with the rest. I was so fired up and I was feeling a tremendous amount of confidence. Perhaps I can really survive in this new world. Deep breaths, take aim.

Click!

@esuteryc‘s first short story and post!

#short story #zombie #writing #first person view #first person #creative writing #survival

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bangchanshehe · 6 years

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Andromeda pt. 10

You were no one, a goody-two-shoes who always played by the rules. When you decided to change yourself and live a little more dangerously you got caught up in Taemin’s trap. He had no use for you and no desire to have you. You were a toy and a time killer. But, he just so happened to have a lot of time and you happened to be his new favorite play thing.

word count: 2.5k

You pulled into the parking space and quickly parked before running up the stairs and banging on her front door. Knowing her it would scare the absolute shit out of her to hear the knocking on her door this late at night, but right now you really needed her to nut up. Finally a few minutes later her door cracked open and she peeked out at you and sighed once she realized that you weren’t a threat. She opened the door wide and you pushed your way inside.

“What in the world are you doing? And where have you been?!” she shrieked at you

“It’s a long story and I can’t really talk about it, I just need to crash here tonight while I figure some things out” you confessed hoping that she would accept only what little you would tell her

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” she asked with wide eyes and then she gasped “Are loan sharks or gang members after you?”

“No, nothing like that. I just can’t go home right now, I’ve got too much stuff going on and I needed to get away” you lied hoping she’d take the bait

“okay” she nodded before she turned to the hall closet to pull out a pillow and a blanket for you. “here you can use these” she handed them to you and you smiled at her

“thank you” you said quietly

“hmm… I’m going to bed I’ve got to be up early tomorrow” she said while yawning and walking back to her room

When she finally made it inside her room and she shut her door you let out a huge breath of air and plopped down on the couch. You finally closed your eyes for a moment and just allowed the silence to consume you before you had to think about what you were going to do next. You didn’t have your phone, keys, money or clothes. You were utterly screwed and you knew that you would eventually have to go back and get your things but you also knew that you weren’t desperate enough to go yet.

You settled into the couch and tried desperately to close your eyes and focus on the appending sleep rather than what was happening outside of the four walls of your friend’s apartment. And soon enough your adrenaline dissipated and your eyes fell shut.

You woke up the next morning to the sound of rummaging through the apartment and your heart immediately began to race. You became hyper aware of your surroundings and you jumped off the couch into a defensive position.

“What are you doing?” your friend asked you

“oh…” you immediately relaxed and tried to come up with a good excuse “You just startled me and it woke me up” you explained without telling her everything.

“whatever. Stay in as long as you like, just be sure and lock the door behind you.” she said tightening the lid to a thermos and walking towards the front door, ready to leave for work “oh and by the way, I left my key to your place on the bar. You didn’t bring your keys with you so I assume you’ll be needing it.” She smiled at you and then stepped out of the apartment

God bless that woman

You turned and looked at the key sitting by itself on the bar and you battled with yourself if you wanted to go to your place or not. You knew that if Taemin had half the brain that you knew he had the first place that he should go looking for you at is your apartment. And a small part of you wanted to see him, but the images of him and Minho fighting so brutally constantly flashed in your mind making you paranoid of what the future would be like. Could things ever be the same again after such a dramatic fight?

And then your mind began to wander even farther.

How did the fight end? Is Minho in a million pieces? Your heart started to hurt at the thought of him being hurt or worse but when you imagined Taemin being possibly hurt your heart began to race and a sting came to your eyes making them water up. You didn’t want to think about either of them being hurt after such a fight with each other, but you imagined that it didn’t end well with Taemin’s territorial tendencies towards you.

You thought of returning to see what happened. To leave that key on the bar and go back and see the damages of the two powerful men fighting each other head on. But if something did happen you didn’t want to see the bloody aftermath.

You glanced back at the key and let out a sigh. You couldn’t stay here and hide forever! And if you ever wanted to get your life back you would eventually have to go back. You got up and stalked around the kitchen cabinets to find a pen and a pencil in the junk drawer that you knew she kept a note pad in and quickly wrote down a thank you note. You folded up your blanket and placed it neatly on your pillow before you grabbed your key and headed for your apartment.

Once you locked and closed your friend’s apartment door you peeked around the parking lot to see if there was anyone outside and made a b-line straight towards Taemin’s car. You jumped inside revved the engine and sped off towards your apartment. If he was there waiting for you then so be it. You just wanted to get everything over with and know that he was okay.

You pulled into your parking lot and let out a shaky breath before you worked up the nerve to climb the stairs and go into your small apartment. The climb up felt like a hike and when you slid the key into the door your heart began to race. You took a quick breath and then unlocked and opened the door as if ripping off the band-aid.

Your eyes quickly scanned the apartment and you found that it was completely empty. You relaxed and shut the door behind you, but strangely you were a little upset that he wasn’t there. It felt empty and alone and you half expected to see him sitting on the couch or sitting at the kitchen waiting grumpily for you to come home any minute. You began to wonder that maybe things really weren’t okay and wondered if you really should possibly go back.

You decided that after tonight you would go back. You owed it to yourself and to taemin to be happy and an active part of the relationship. You knew that it was no longer just a one sided love with taemin and that you definitely did have feelings for him, that only seemed to get stronger by the day. You looked down at your hand at your ring and you smiled, thinking that things could work out if they weren’t already too damaged. But for now you were going to give yourself one last day of normalcy. You at least deserved that much. Your bed sheets weren’t even washed from your hook up with Minho. You looked around the place and decided that some much needed cleaning would be perfect for distracting you of all things Taemin and Minho and decided to get to work.

An hour and a half later you had dusted and shined every surface of the house, stripped your bed and done the laundry, swept, mopped and put things away. It was starting to feel more like your average life again, except you couldn’t help but notice the belongings that you used to have there were no longer here. Now they were across town at Taemin’s house. Your other home.

Everything was exactly how it should be and all that was left was your bedding in the dryer. You took a seat on the couch and turned on the tv to flip through the channels, and the first thing that came on was vampire diaries. You sighed and rolled your eyes thinking how stupid the whole commercialized concept of vampires was and changed the channel. But to your complete displeasure Twilight was showing. You groaned and turned off the tv all together.

You only wanted to do one thing and that was completely soak in the freedom of a single woman with no commitments or attachments, but the universe was throwing your fate at you with every opportunity it had. You fell back on the couch and closed your eyes trying to mentally block out all incoming thoughts about Taemin. And nothing worked until your stomach growled. You smiled down at your stomach and jumped up to look through your refrigerator. You were low on options and sighed trying to low your standards and think of anything that you could make as a meal out of the few things that you had to offer. But nothing sounded pleasing enough to make you settle for. You suddenly remembered that in your own junk drawer you had coupons and left over change piled up and abandoned for a rainy day and giggled as you opened it up and started to pull out any money or useful coupons.

You had three expired coupons and $6 in change. You sat down at your kitchen table and thought about what you should do with such little money and decided that the only thing that would last you for both meals would be ramen. So you put on flip flops and went down to the corner store just down the street from your apartment. You didn’t bother taking the car but walked instead thinking that the sunlight and wind blowing around you could do you some justice.

You soaked in all of the sunlight and as soon as you got to the store you loaded up a basket with ramen and a candy bar for later. A bath and chocolate sounded like the perfect ending to your little get away. You checked out and began to walk back quickly in an attempt to not ruin the chocolate bar too much and settled in as soon as you got home ready to have a bowled of steaming hot ramen and take a power nap. If you were going to eventually like forever and be indifferent to food you figured you might as well just get your fill of everything that you wanted now, right?

You sat over your table with the tv on and ate your noodles as you watched the news. Really nothing exciting was happening in retrospect to your life changing past 72 hours. The president did something bad again, or another company got busted for immoral character. It was all the same thing over and over again just on a different day and you sighed thinking that things would probably be the same 20, 40 or 100 years down the road. You finished your bowl before you knew it and pushed your bowl away. Dishes be damned, today was your day. And made your way to your bedroom to take a afternoon nap. You turned on the fan, turned off the light and jumped on your familiar bed. You cuddled the pillow close to you and drifted away into a light sleep.

You didn’t know what time it was when you heard banging on your door, but it certainly woke you up out of your sleep. You yawned and stretched as you walked still half-asleep to your front door and swung it open wide without a single thought to who might be on the other side. But as soon as your eyes met Taemin’s it was like your sleeping haze was immediately wiped away.

Your own went wide and you stood frozen completely at a loss for what to do. And Taemin only stood there staring straight back at you too. You looked over him once to see if he was okay and to your pleasure he seemed like he was in perfect health. Your smile cracked a little and as soon as you caught yourself smiling you wiped it away and became emotionless again.

“I think we need to talk” Taemin said being the first person to speak up first

You didn’t say anything back but nodded your head. You moved your arm that blocked his entry and stepped aside. Taemin wasted no time coming in and shutting the door and he promptly took a seat at your couch and looked at you expecting you to follow suit.

“I need to know if you are still in this” he said in a hushed tone

If you had known any better, he sounded his actual age. He sounded broken down and worn out, as if he had been up all night and was struggling to pull himself together. You knew it was physically impossible for him to be tired, but something in you was triggered and believed that he was a lot more worn than he actually could perceive to be.

“I’m….” you started and then pulled your eyes away from his to look down at the ground “I think I’m starting to fall for you. But I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t terrified”

Taemin nodded his head and relaxed a little into the couch as if he were physically prepared for the answer that he would have dreaded to hear. But now that he was still sure that you were a part of his life he could physically and mentally give himself a break

“I don’t want you to be worried about Minho, he’s fine. I know you two have something special.” He said as a whisper as if he couldn’t tolerate to say the word any louder

“I’m sure he’s fine.” You nodded your head in agreement “but I was mostly worried about you!”

Taemin turned his head to look at you and he gave you a angry confused look “I don’t want to put you in a tight spot, but I need to know…. Is it him or me?”

You cocked your head at him and chuckled. In response Taemin only seemed to get more anxious and angry at the thought of it not being him.

“I’ve never really entertained the idea of being with Minho long term” you said confidently and loudly “but you…” you smiled at Taemin hoping that he would understand and truly feel your honesty “all I could think about while I was gone was you. The past, our present and our future together. As much as I was terrified to go back to the house my body and my mind still ached to be there and be beside you.”

“So why didn’t you come back?” he asked scared and hopeful

“because” you answered half heartedly, unwilling to actually say what your heart was begging for you to say.

“come on! Because why?!” he asked seriously

“because…” you started and you shut your eyes to give you the strength to say what was next “I’m not falling for you, because I’ve already completely fallen in deep….Taemin…. I’m in love with you. I love you”

NEXT PART

#kpop #kpop seires #kpop au #kpop vampire #kpop vampire au #vampire au #shinee #shinee au #shinee vampire au #shinee minho #minho vampire au #choi minho #shinee taemin #lee taemin #taemin #taemin series #taemin smut #taemin vampire #taemin vampire au

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natilepoop3 · 3 years

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I Have a 2006 Buick Lucerne, While Driving with AC on, a Message Come Out That Says Turn AC Off, Car Is Overhe?

If the overheating problem is being caused by the AC then change your thermostat as that is the most likely problem. Note: This is assuming that you have appropriate level of coolant and its not leaking, proper working fans that spin fast enough and spin when they are suppose to, no blown head gasket, no clogged radiator and a good radiator cover that holds the pressure required. â¢ Other Questions Is radiator cleaner safe to use?

deposits of crud or corrosion could be sealing a potential leak. You run the risk of having a leak develop. A regularly maintained car had nothing in the cooling system that needs any cleaner.

Now if you have a nasty cooling system that hasn't been maintained then cleaning out any corrosion or build up will very likely cause a leak so I wouldn't put any cleaner in it. ------ 1997 grand am question, about removing the frame on top of the radiator? The Grand AM does not have a radiator cap, it has a pressurized resivor.

This means that the resivor is a full part of the cooling system, and not just a place for overflow. The cap on the resivor is threaded onto the resovor and is sealed just like a standard radiator cap, this is where all the filling/top offs are done, there is no radiator cap, but there is a resivor cap. Many vehicles are like this.

------ I can't get heat in my 92 GMC Sonoma, what should I do? Ive had a lot of problems with after market thermostats, even though it new dosent mesn its good, i reccomend going and buying a dealer (chevy) theromstat and then try it again, also your radiator could be stopped up and not cirulating properly, dont use the dexicool antifreeze long term i know it to stop up radiators i went through the dsame probs you are, try having the radiator recored or replace it, i bet it will work ------ wat would happen if i cover my front grille of my car will this do any harm to it? Depending on the vehicle it can absolutely do harm.

Some diesel vehicles in the winter will cover their grills with a finer mesh to limit the cold air going through, but most gasoline vehicles require the airflow. When the car is stopped, if the coolant heats up too much the radiator fans will kick on and pull the air through forcefully. If air cannot get in, the engine will overheat ------ should i buy this used car?

What year is it? If it's a '94-04 S-10, I'm not surprised that it needed a transmission seal or a valve cover gasket. Especially if it's a V6 with the automatic.

If it's an older S-10 then there will be less to go wrong, but if you do buy it make sure the seller throws in a free water pump. If the radiator needed re-coring, chances are the water pump is the next to go. ------ What is the best cleaner to clean bugs off a radiator?

I've never known anything that was considering good in removing bugs from a radiator. I drive a semi and I assure you that my truck is covered in bugs. I simply wait for them to literally dry out and then you can brush them off.

There are screens that you can get that are easy to remove and clean instead of letting them get into the vanes of the radiator. Give that a try ------ What happens when bike engine is covered with a water which is covered by a box? That would be called a 'water cooled engine' .

they usually have a radiator to exchange the heat from the water surrounding the combustion chamber and a mechanical water pump to transfer the waste heat into cooler air passing threw that radiator allowing accurate temperature control under sustained continuous use under varying load conditions . Unless you have any thing other than a new 2014 Harley Davidson.the idea has been around in commercial use far longer than a century now!

------ Can I put a couch next to a radiator? its summer time now,,right? so not to worry.

anyway a radiator will never get hot enough to start any fire. But in the winter when you need the heat you have to keep the couch about a foot away so the heat can radiate about the room. Also keep the winter drapes short so's it wont divert the heat up the wall.

Hope this helps answer your question. ------ How to replace Valve Cover Ground Cable on 2000 Honda Civic Si? Anyplace on the engine block will do it - I always thought the valve cover was an odd place for it anyway.

An alternative is to get a battery negative cable that has an extra lead to screw down to a chassis ground near the battery. That wire (in either location) provides the engine ground. If it is not making contact all sorts of weird electrical things happen ------ Recently installed 12v Bosch horns on my Accord.

I don't think that there would be any problem at all since horns found on civics (atleast those sold here in the Philippines) are installed in the same general area behind the grill and just infront of the radiator and airconditioning unit. Actually, I was thinking of replacing my stock bosch horns with FIAMM horns. They're longer and would probably be installed in the same place as my stock ones.

Peace. ------ How do I fix a radiator leak I know is in my engine? This is known problem with those engines.

I would check the timing cover on the inside. When the timing chain guides break, the chain rubs the inside of the timing cover and rubs a hole into the water jacket. Most people think that its a blown head gasket.

Aftermarket water pumps also may wear a hole in the timing cover from the impellers rubbing through. I recommend factory timing components and water pump ------ My 2006 Chevy Malibu isn't heating up right.Any suggestions?

first id check to see if thermostat is opening and closing and if its really cold put a box flap infront of radiator just dont cover the whole thing just a small part like the flap of a box works great to close off some air should help it heat up back east or up north but most likey its thermo stuck open if it doesnt get hot or it takes a long time its open and stuck ------ Anyone have any information from start to finish about a 93 Ford Tauru? The fan relay tends to go bad and is located on top of the radiator under the plastic cover. Remove the plastic top cover located around the top of the radiator.

If your going to keep the car, you might as well just buy a new fan relay and replace it. If it doesn't fix the problem, you'll have a spare if needed in the future ------ Engine overheated & will not start plus spark plugs are covered in oil. Sorry to hear, but it sounds like a blown head gasket.

Check for water or a white film on the plugs also, and if and when it does start again, look for steam coming out of the exhaust, lots of it, it may just be something simple due to it overheating. But I would be real careful, and try a junk yard for a used part like the hose. No duct tape.

. that's a shame. ------ Hi name is Jay I have a 98 Oldsmobile intrigue and I do a little work on my own.

Sounds to me Jay like your converter is plugged up. How's the acceleration? Sluggish.

Try a night drive and when it acts up, wear some old clothes and check out for an orange glow in front of the converter. Careful you don't get burnt. If it isn't that, you have a cracked head or bad head gasket and it isn't showing up yet, so watch for white smoke.

good luck. ------ Cannot find radiator bleed valve? Can anyone help?

Pictures included!? Higher pressure in boiler could be sign of many factors including air bubbles in the system.

Air comes in from where water is leaking out. So find that location. Radiators or pipes leading to radiators must have air vents to let air out.

Boilers have valves for fill or drain. If none of the above helps, the only way would be to loosen (not open) the union next to the radiator valve to let water to leak out. ------ What Does the BMW Maintenance Program Cover?

The initial 4yrs/50K miles warranty and maintenance would certainly cover those leaks. Other than that they also cover brake pads and rotors, oil change, drive belt, brake liquid, and more. For more information see: http://www.

bmwusa.com/standard/content/owner/bmwultimateservice/default.aspx The extended CPO warranty (6 yrs/100K miles) doesn't cover maintenance costs beyond the initial 4 yrs/50K miles and has some limitation on warranty compared to the initial period as well.

------ what is the plastic thing holding up my lower radiator hose? my cars a 1995 3.4 camaro?

Take a picture, and take it to any Auto parts dealer, show them the picture and explain it what it is. They can usually pull up pictures (maybe). I did this before because there was a missing cover piece at the bottom of my transaxle, they identified it for me and it was called an inspection plate.

Your piece that snapped must be called "radiator hose support" (just a random guess) ------ i need help changing my radiator on my 2000 volvo v70se? Drain rad. plug on bottom of radiator,remove fan and shroud,unplug wires, usually two screws.

may have to disconnect top hose first. remove top and bottom hoses on rad. disconnect trans.

line on side of rad. if auto trans. May have to remove plastic cover over rad.

Should be a bracket at top each end remove, then lift out. Reinstall reverse order make sure tangs on sides go into slots in frame ------ 95 12v cummins oil leak location? start fresh, pressure wash the engine.

It will not affect the engine like it would a gas engine, i do it everyday. Pressure wash every thing, the radiator, engine, the under carriage, oil pan, transmission, the works. Make sure fliuds are ful land drive it.

Possible casues: powersteering mounting gasket, front crankseal, blowby/roaddraft tube, oil pan gasket. if youneed anything , email me [email protected].

happy turkey day. alan ------ Anyone else have steam radiators throughout their house and a baby? This might sound bad, but most kids will burn their hand(s) at least once when they are little.

So sometimes it might take your kid that one time to put his hands on it and know that some things do burn. Not unless you are watching your kid 24/7 it will most likely happen. I would suggest not using them and getting the space heaters instead.

They are inexpensive and don't cost much to run them ------ How much should it cost to change radiator in 2001 chevy impala? There is a price estimate book we use in my dealership I will quote you the cost.To replace the radiator in a 2001 impala that also covers coolant,clamps,and a new radiator cap parts and labor a dealers cost is $737 plus tax.

Independent shop price for the same repair is $531 plus tax. These prices will not be off by more than 10%.Best of luck with your impala ------ is hitting a deer covered under "basic" insurance?

.or do I need collision/comp? If you have only liability or "basic" coverage, it pays nothing for damages to your own vehicle, under any circumstances.

Liability covers damages and injuries caused to others by your insured vehicle. Submitting a claim soon after changing your coverage would set off all kinds of red flags at the insurance company. You could be investigated and prosecuted for fraud.

Are you sure you want to do that? ------ Does spray painted Styrofoam help heat a house? Well, most spray paints will melt styrofoam so there's that problem.

It would be better to cover the styrofoam with foil, and quite frankly, as the radiator shouldn't be getting hot enough to affect the wall behind it you could just put the foil on the wall. I suspect the result would be negligible as most of the heat is already just going up, not so much out. ------ Reasonable radio antennas range from1 centimeter to5 meters in diameter.

What frequency range does this cover? 1cm is communications and radar. 5 meters is communications.

1 cm is about 18 GHz. 5 meters is about 56 MHz. These are estimates, so give or take a few MHz.

We use 3 cm radar on ships (9GHz) and 10 m in ham radio, which is about 28 MHz. And it isn't diameter that is important, although at high frequencies that isn't true, but the length of the antenna is important for good transmission. ------ Does using a piece of cardboard in front of you radiator really allow your car to heat up faster on cold days?

You are correct. Your thermostat will remain closed until your engine reaches the right operating tempature. Your cooling fan only comes on when your engine reaches a specific tempature, and this is well after it warms up.

The cardboard will only help if your thermostat is stuck open all the time. At that point just spend the 5 bucks and replace the thermostat instead of messing with a big peice of cardboard

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deliciouslyburningcreation-blog · 4 years

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Exactly how to Fix a Lawn Mower Engine Aurora, CO

New Post has been published on https://jeremiahsrepairshop.com/exactly-how-to-fix-a-lawn-mower-engine-aurora-co/

Exactly how to Fix a Lawn Mower Engine Aurora, CO

Exactly how to Fix a Lawn Mower Engine

Exactly how to Fix a Lawn Mower Engine near me Aurora, Colorado. I will certainly reveal you exactly how to fix a lawn mower engine, and exactly how to ultimately eliminate those gremlins which have been stumbling in its bowels. Certainly there is currently way I can inform you every single problem that can take place to your engine, so I will inform you the huge parts of the engine, and also how to fix them.

I am not a skilled mechanic. similarly what I have learned comes from years of analysis, and much experimentation. Hopefully from that I can show you exactly how to end up being more of an independent individual, as well as maybe conserve you a couple of dollars.

Prior to you do anything with the lawnmower you must after that detach the sparkplug. This will certainly leave no chance of the engine beginning with you dealing with it. It is much better to loose a couple of second than loosened a couple of fingers!

It is likewise be a good suggestion to wear some functioning handwear covers, because engines can be very sharp as well as dirty which will certainly provide you an infection. Eye protection need to also be used to make sure that gas and also bits of steel can not wind up in you eye.

In addition before you go and also dismantle the whole engine it would be a great suggestion to very first look at the spark plug. This can offer you essential clues about what is going on in there. The one spark plug condition that was not stated on the chart is the crisis.

The sparkplug will certainly have thawed metal around the space, as well as is not typical but can be caused by a lack of excellent oil in your engine( MOST IMPORTANTLY CHANGE YOUR OIL). As long as I am discussing ignition system I need to likewise discuss that if your spark plug gets striped you will certainly need to get something called a heli coli, which will certainly patch the damage.

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The most common ignition system is the magneto ignition system which is sort of like a step up transformer. The most important thing about a magneto system is that there needs to be a small void between the magnets in the flywheel, and also the magneto.

The flywheel itself is turned by a pull of the starter. There should be 2 teeth on the starter so it can turn the flywheel, as well as when the brake is disengaged the cable will rewind. The gap in between the flywheel as well as the magneto should be no wider than the thickness of a playing card.

There are lots of various other ignition systems which would take longer than this instrustable to explain, but generally you ought to examine all the wiring and search for any kind of wear or crud that might cause troubles.

For instance you can conveniently test the ignition system by touching completion of the spark plug to a based item of metal, as well as see if there is a trigger when you start the engine. Do not hold any kind of metal on the spark plug or you will certainly get an excruciating zap.

Getting rid of a flywheel can be an annoying procedure if you do not know the methods. The nut which holds the flywheel is on very securely, as well as can just be removed by blocking the turning of the crank shaft with a wrench holding the nut on the blade or by blocking the turning of the blade.

However do not attempt to hold the flywheel by sticking a crowbar in the teeth, or they might break off. Once you have eliminate the nut which holds the flywheel in place you will require to gently pry off the flywheel with a crowbar. Maintain turning the flywheel till it can be taken off conveniently.

Now put the flywheel vital someplace secure. When you want to put the flywheel back on make certain that the trick is in the appropriate instructions. It is generally marked in some way.

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The Carburetor is the number one culprit with engine problem. It such a fundamental part of a 4 stroke engine that I will certainly have to use two web pages to completely clarify just how to clean it. The primary feature of repairing a carburetor is that they have to be spick-and-span. Below are 2 examples of extremely common carburetors which you can discover on a lawnmower.

In other words as I stated before the carburetor must be spick-and-span in order to work. If a carburetor has had gasoline stand in it for more than a year it will collect a gunkey varnish which will certainly have to be get rid of. This crud can be removed conveniently eliminated by allowing the steel parts being in a jar of gas over night.

Do not allow the plastic components remain in fuel for to lengthy or it can rune the plastic. Now for the specific components beginning with the float. To examine the float you will certainly first need to remove the pin making sure you do not flex it.

To examine to see to it the float is functioning effectively immerse it in water to ensure there are no openings. The float valve itself must be able to relocate freely and also once again requires to be tidy. One of the most common problem with a carburetor is that its jets have come to be stopped up.

They are usually constructed from brass and also are occasionally removable. To cleanse them out just run a small piece of cable trough them. The primary carb body itself has lots of holes which can additionally get clogged periodically. Utilize a flashlight or a laser to ensure every opening is open, and clean them out with an item of cable.

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If the engine is having problem starting there is a chance that the hole in the gas cap has become clogged up (If your engine has this attribute). Therefore to examine this just lightly screw on the cap, and also see if the engine starts. If you need to simply run a tiny gauge cable via the hole to clean it out.

When there is just a trickle of gas coming out of the main line you should inspect the gas tanks filter, which can occasionally be cleansed a little with a light brush. If the gas is still appearing slowly attempt cleaning the lines this can be done by running a pipe cleaner or something similar via the line till the pipe cleaner comes out clean.

Some engines additionally have push guide which helps produce the best air fuel mix for the engine. It should be free of cuts as well as the air shaft must be open.

There are 2 shutoffs in a 4 stroke engine. The intake shutoff which injects the air gas mix right into the combustion chamber, and the exhaust valve which lets out the carbon monoxide gas and also what is left after the combustion. These valves are relocated by a web cam shaft that turns with the engine at an established time.

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Often these valves will certainly collect junk around the shaft, and also will require to be cleansed by a commercial shutoff cleaner or by hand. The shutoff needs to look extremely wonderful and really feel smooth in order to work. Often the valves will obtain scrape and leakage oil.

This is mainly due to not changing your oil. There is absolutely nothing that I know you can do once the shutoffs get this bad, and also the only thing you can do is purchase brand-new ones. The valve heads can likewise get broken and also will certainly inject fuel at the incorrect time and also reduce combustion.

Once again if the shutoffs obtain severely cracked you will have to buy a new shutoff. To eliminate the valves you will certainly need to weigh down the compression springs, and also remove the shutoff springtime retainer. Now, putting the valve components back with each other once more can get a little tricky.

You will need to first place the spring and also the valve spring retainers back into the engine together Once you have done this you will certainly need to put the shutoff back in place.

To put the valve spring retainers back on the Valve you will certainly require to push the shutoff spring retainers a little sideways so you can push the shutoff right into the large opening of the shutoff springtime retainer. Then you will require to push the springtime and retainer down so you can secure the shutoff spring retainer in position.

Some valves likewise have something call a sleeve which you will need to very naturally put on top of the shutoff as well as below the shutoff.

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The trigger arrestor is not a very integral part of a engine, however a component that is required by regulation on all outdoor engines. As its name suggests it captures triggers that appeared of the engine and also stop fires. A lot of spark arrestors can not be opened as well as can just be cleaned with a cable brush which will separate most obstructions.

To take a look at the piston you will have to divide the two fifty percents of the engine. Doing this can be harmful to your engine which I would certainly not advise. When you separate the two halves do it really gradually prying all over the engine.

As soon as you have separated the two halves detach the piston from the crank shaft. Currently push the piston out through the combustion chamber. First check to see if the spaces in the rings are lining up when you draw the piston out of the engine.

If they are there is probably nothing incorrect with your piston, and all you will need to do is align the piston ring gaps at regarding a 90 level difference to make sure that the oil can not leak through. If this is not the instance check the cylinder wall surfaces for scrapes which could be letting in the oil.

How to Fix a Toro Lawn Mower Engine Aurora

After you have actually done both these actions and still locate no error you can the think that your piston rings have spoiled. To get rid of the rings a tool called a ring compressor need to be used, however 2 pairs of pliers can also function(simply do not press the rings to far).

It is extremely important that you do not place the incorrect ring on one of the groves. As soon as you have placed on the brand-new rings you must scatter the voids in the rings (I like someplace around a 90 level difference) then give the rings a little bit of engine oil so they go in quickly.

Conclusion: Before you place the piston in see to it is in the best instructions according to the markings. you may require to squeeze the rings a little to obtain the piston right into the cylinder. Now you merely need screw every little thing back together.

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starcitizenprivateer · 5 years

Text

Phantom Bounty: Part Two

Writer’s Note: Phantom Bounty: Part Two was published originally in Jump Point 3.2. Read Part One here.

Devana lifted through the sky, and the gleaming towers of Tevistal faded away beneath the cloudline. Exhilaration raced through Mila at the feel of the Freelancer moving through the air, her back pressed against the well-worn pilot’s seat, all of the heady power of the ship under her command.

This was the one place she always felt free and in control, as if she could be anyone and do anything. But open space was a double-edged knife, filled with the promise of both endless possibility and danger. And today it was danger she and Rhys were headed toward: their last chance to catch the Phantom. To catch the terrorist who called herself Elaine.

“Did I ever tell you I love watching your face when you fly?” Rhys smirked at her from the co-pilot’s seat.

Mila warmed at the look in his eyes and lifted a brow. “I think you love watching my face when I’m doing . . . lots of things.”

Rhys grinned at her, and Mila knew they were both recalling the quick fun they’d just had in the bunk while waiting for clearance. She wasn’t going to try to label this relationship as anything other than business . . . for now. But being business partners with benefits sure was nice for the built-in stress relief.

When they finished their ascent and hit the emptiness of space, Rhys brought up the system map on the HUD and set a course for Mila to follow. She altered their path to follow a trajectory that would take them to the orbital platform at the edge of the system.

“If that dock snitch told the truth,” Mila said, “the Phantom’s headed to the orbital platform to meet her contact. But what do we know about this Septa platform?”

Rhys brought up the system map and searched for available data. “Septa’s owned by a company called McGloclin, but it looks like they haven’t been active out there for a while. Not sure what we’ll find on the platform. Maybe company workers, probably vagrants. No Advocacy agents there or any law officers at all since the corporation is supposed to be in charge. There’s a pretty large debris field drifting a few klicks from the platform.”

“Great.”

“Here, give me that tag number so we can scan.”

Mila pushed up her sleeve, and Rhys held his mobiGlas up to hers to grab the tag data the WiDoW addict had given them. It transferred over, and he ported it into Devana’s system. “Activating the long-range scanner.”

They both tensed as the scanner completed its initial search.

No hits.

A twinge of disappointment hit Mila, but it didn’t do much to dampen her excitement. “Well, we’re still too far from the platform, if that’s where she is. I’m sure the scanner will pick up something . . . soon.”

She and Rhys rode in comfortable silence born of months of flying together, but as they approached the platform, Mila recalled how Rhys had acted back on Tevistal. How she had acted.

He’d been controlling and had tried to keep her out of harm’s way when he’d needed back-up. And she’d acted hotheaded, violating their agreement about her handling tech and him dealing with contacts.

And now, this was probably it — the end of this mission, whether they caught the Phantom or not. If Elaine escaped, they’d have to find a new bounty, and that would take time and more creds they didn’t have. They needed to keep clear heads if they had any chance of succeeding today.

“Hey,” she said softly. “We’ll play this by the book this time, yeah? I take care of tech. You haggle and get info. We work together once we get close.”

“Agreed.”

“Just one thing.” Mila swallowed and met his eyes from across the small space. “You have to allow me to do my job. If there’s danger, we handle things the way we always have. This . . . this thing we have can’t get in the way of that.”

Rhys’s jaw tensed, and he didn’t answer right away. “I just want to keep you safe.”

“We keep each other safe.”

Rhys shifted in his seat and looked out at the nothingness ahead of them. “I’ve lost people . . . people I cared about before.”

So have I. But Mila didn’t say it. “We can’t let anything get in the way of our judgment. The mission comes first.”

He gave her a stiff nod.

“Mission comes first.” Mila bit her lip. His agreement was the outcome she wanted in this conversation, wasn’t it? So why the hell did she feel so disappointed?

Because you’ve fallen hard for him, idiot. Her cheeks heated at the thought. Now was not the time to be thinking about this.

She kept her eyes straight ahead, afraid the look in them might give her real feelings away. “I’m glad we agree then.”

The scanner beeped, and Mila’s heart rate picked up as she looked over at what it had found.

They’d located the Phantom’s ship. Tentative ID: a Cutlass.

“She’s heading away from the platform,” Rhys said urgently. “We might lose her on the scanner with all the debris.”

“Map a new trajectory. Maybe we can cut her off before she reaches it.” Mila throttled up, her breath coming more quickly as she followed the new course.

In minutes, they came up on the tangle of floating junk. It loomed before them, hunks of twisted metal and dead ships in the distance, sprawled out in a mess that would be tough to navigate.

Just as they reached the edge of it, the Phantom’s ship winked out of existence on their scanner.

“Kak.” Rhys fiddled with the scanner, trying to manually find the ship. “We’re gonna have to go in there. That debris won’t be easy to fly through —”

“We’ll be fine.”

Mila searched ahead, seeking any sign of a ship where the Phantom had disappeared from their scanner.

“There. The only one moving!” Mila pointed to a glint of metal in the distance, weaving through the debris. “I’m taking us in.”

“Let me check where she might be headed.” Rhys zoomed in on his map.

Mila gritted her teeth and directed the Freelancer into the debris field, cutting around a half-destroyed freighter. “Do you think she knows we’re here?”

“I don’t think so. She hasn’t changed her speed.”

Mila edged Devana around a hunk of twisted metal, trying to keep the distant glimmer in view.

“We should get above this mess. It’s safer.”

“No,” Mila responded. “We risk being detected, and then we’ll lose her if she goes deeper into this floating pile of kak. We need to go in and flank her. Catch her by surprise.”

Mila sped up, darting around small pieces of junk. Sweat popped up on her forehead as she tried to watch the debris and keep an eye on the glint of the Phantom’s ship ahead of them.

They were flying straight for the center of the junk pile.

“Shutting down unnecessary systems to increase shielding,” Rhys said. “Elaine’s not gonna let us catch her without a fight.”

“I know.” Mila killed the main engines, relying on maneuvering thrusters. “Hold on.”

As Devana slipped through the detritus, it swayed from side to side, avoiding most of the scrap metal and decommissioned ships.

Rhys grunted and shook his head as small pipes and bolts bounced off their hull.

Mila’s pulse pounded, buzzing in her ears with the thrill of the chase. Then the distant ship suddenly made a hard right and disappeared between two massive cargo hulks.

“Did she make us?” Mila pushed Devana to the limit to catch up.

“Maybe. She could be waiting for us on the other side of that ship.”

Just before they reached the Hull-C where the Phantom had disappeared, Mila rotated the Freelancer to starboard and slowed.

The massive skeleton of the Hull-C blocked their line of sight. She couldn’t see the Phantom’s ship, but it could be hidden just on the other side.

She tapped the thrusters and coasted beneath the cargo ship.

Mila barely breathed as they reached the far side of the dead ship’s hull.

“I got her on the scanner. Hanging right above us,” Rhys said. “A Cutlass, all right. Weapons ready. She knows we’re here.”

As they emerged, Mila’s heart thumped wildly. She rotated the ship in a deft motion to face the Cutlass. Devana was momentarily bracketed between the Hull-C and another freighter — a terrible place to be in a gunfight.

The Cutlass took a shot but missed, instead damaging the Hull-C above them. It was a straight shot; had the Phantom just missed on purpose?

“I gotta get us out of here.” Mila dropped the ship lower, trying to escape the narrow choke point they’d found themselves in.

“Use the freighter for cover!”

The Phantom fired again, this time a steady fusillade that still missed Devana, striking the hulk they were slipping toward.

“Mila, wait!” Rhys yelled, just as the Cutlass’s barrage triggered an explosion in the Hull-C. It burst in a wave of shrapnel, generating a force that sent Devana flying sideways.

Mila gripped the controls tighter as the Freelancer slammed into the other cargo ship with a hard shudder. The shielding held, but barely. Alarms sounded in response to the shield loss, and Mila felt the balance of the ship shift beneath her.

“Maneuvering thruster?” Mila asked, struggling to regain balance.

“Dammit. Yes. We lost one.”

From above them, the Cutlass rained shots down on their weakened shield.

“Shields at quarter power,” Rhys reported.

Another explosion sparked near the second cargo ship, and a new wave of debris headed toward them. Mila watched in horror as a jagged metal panel flew straight at the nose of Devana.

Rhys squeezed the trigger. Half the panel shot off in the opposite direction, but the rest of it stayed on course.

It slammed straight into them, and Mila’s head snapped back against her seat. Alarms blared as the ship rotated wildly, and she gripped the stick firmly, trying to steady them. A thin crack spread across the cockpit, slowly widening, and the temperature instantly dropped.

“Kak.” She and Rhys both said it at the same time.

“Gotta patch the screen. Now.” Rhys moved, grabbing their helmets from the storage compartment, and took the controls as Mila latched hers on.

She took the controls back as he got his helmet on. Rhys stumbled out of his seat.

“Getting the repair foam.” He said, his voice crackling over the helmet comms. He hurried toward the cargo hold as Devana banked through a fractured Starfarer. When Mila came out of the turn, she spotted the Cutlass as it ducked behind a blackened hull that was too far gone to identify. Angling the thrusters, she turned tightly to follow.

Rhys stumbled back into the cockpit and applied the foam to the crack, temp-sealing it.

“This’ll hold until we get to a repair dock,” Rhys panted. “But not if we take another direct hit.”

Mila keyed up the guns, her breath coming quickly now and frosting up on the interior glass of her helmet, as the Phantom danced in and out of sight ahead.

“It could have been far worse.”

Rhys smirked at her tone and strapped back into his seat. “Fine. I’ll say it. You were right about that extra armor.”

“That always does have a nice ring to it.” With Rhys back on weapons, Mila narrowed the distance to the Cutlass.

“Take her out, Rhys.” Mila focused on keeping the Freelancer steady as Rhys targeted the Cutlass’s engines.

Devana’s twin Kronegs opened fire.

The Cutlass jerked sideways, off course, and a small, bright flash told them they’d gotten a hit. Mila darted a glance at the scan. It updated, showing the Cutlass’s left engine had been damaged.

“Targeting her jumpdrive,” Rhys said. As the Phantom regained control of her ship, Rhys fired off a series of rapid shots, targeting the armored drive.

The Cutlass lurched and then took off again, swinging from side to side, this time heading for a half-scrapped Orion nearby. It disappeared on the far side of the ship, and Mila adjusted course to go after it.

“Not giving her a chance to drop another mine,” Mila said.

“I think we got her,” Rhys replied quietly. “She’s not getting out of here.”

Mila suppressed a smile and tried to ignore the giddy feeling in her stomach. “Good shot. But we still have to catch her.”

The Freelancer’s lights illuminated the torn-apart ship the Phantom had disappeared behind. Tangles of pipes and dozens of storage levels were partially visible where armor had been ripped out. The ship was a veritable warren of half-enclosed corridors.

Mila slowed as their lights found the Cutlass. It was stopped dead near the front of the ship, hugging close to the hull. Mila searched along the hull as Rhys activated the comm and hailed the Cutlass.

No response.

He checked the scan again. “I think her systems are failing. Maybe life support. We got some good hits in.”

A white spacesuit floated out between the Cutlass’s far hatch and the freighter’s hull. The Phantom flailed as she hurtled into the freighter and disappeared.

Mila pulled the Freelancer closer to the Cutlass and looked at Rhys. “We have to go in after her.”

“She’s setting a trap.”

“She’s running. She has nowhere to go. We have her.”

“She could have called for help. What if reinforcements show up? What if she met someone back at the platform and commed them? This freighter’s a death trap.”

Mila edged the ship closer to where the Phantom had disappeared and unstrapped her harness. “I’m going in.”

Rhys grabbed her arm. “Don’t. She can’t stay in there forever. We can wait her out. This is what she wants.”

Desperation surged through Mila, mingling with her adrenaline high. She pulled her arm away and headed back to suit up.

Rhys followed her and watched as she pulled on her armored suit and strapped her pistol to her hip.

“She always manages to slip away,” Mila said. She slammed a fist against the locker, frustrated. Knowing the Phantom was so close. . . right next to them in that ship. It was making it hard to think straight. But Mila was sure of one thing. She was going in after her.

“We’re so close this time,” Mila continued, trying to keep her voice steady. “Too close to risk losing her, and you know this could be our only chance. I’m going in. You can come if you want to.”

Rhys wrapped a hand around Mila’s arm and turned her to face him. She reluctantly looked up at him.

“I should be the one to go in there after her,” he said gruffly. “You watch the ship. If she comes back out or anyone shows up, you can comm me.”

“No.”

Rhys narrowed his green eyes at her, clearly worried.

Mila took a labored breath. “We should go in together.”

“Mila, someone needs to stay with Devana, and you’re the better pilot. Let me try to chase her back out here. The mission comes first.”

Mila’s stomach clenched at the thought of Rhys going in alone, but he was right. Someone needed to stay. And the mission had to come first.

Rhys took her silence as agreement, quickly suiting up and holstering his Arclight.

She kept her spacesuit on — just in case she needed to go in after him. Her throat tightened as she returned to her seat and pulled the Freelancer closer to where the Phantom had disappeared.

Rhys came back up to the cockpit and squeezed her arm lightly. “Keep the commlink open. Stay on guard.”

Mila nodded and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. This could go sideways so easily.

She depressurized the cargo hold and lowered the ramp for Rhys. He pushed off and drifted into the dark body of the freighter.

She very nearly commed him to tell him to come back, that they could wait until the Phantom gave up, but she hesitated. Her feelings for Rhys battled with her need to capture this terrorist. Her need won out. This was their last chance to capture the Phantom. Rhys would be fine. He was a great shot.

Several moments passed, and Mila forced herself to check the scanners again. No sign of any other moving ships.

A dull thud sounded from somewhere on the hull, and Mila’s heart rate sped up as she pulled her gun from her holster.

She glanced back at the cargo hold door in time to see the light flash. The alarm sounded — a warning that the door was being opened from the other side while the hold was still depressurized. Mila turned back to the console and scrambled to lock the door, but she failed. It was too late to raise the ramp, too late to repressurize the hold.

Mila got to her feet, her pistol tight in her grip, and trained it on the door to the cargo hold.

At that moment, Rhys’s voice came over the comm. “There are too many places to hide.” His voice rose. “Mila, close the ramp! I just found an empty spacesuit. It wasn’t her.”

“I know. She’s here, Rhys. I repeat, she’s on the ship.”

The door slid open, and Mila’s body lifted off the floor as the artificial gravity systems were deactivated. She reached out to grab her seatback with one hand, and her pistol arm swung wide.

The Phantom floated through the door, weightless, and took a shot. It tore through Mila’s suit, and she cried out.

A terrible burning pain ripped through Mila’s shoulder, and her oxygen began to vent. She shot back desperately, but the Phantom pushed off the ceiling toward the floor in a well-practiced zero-G evasive movement, and Mila’s shot missed, taking a hunk of wall panel out instead.

Adrenaline flooded her. They’d cornered the Phantom and now she’d fight to the death to take Devana. Mila wouldn’t let that happen.

She took another shot, but missed again as the Phantom pushed off the floor. She hurtled forward and slammed into Mila’s injured arm.

Mila gasped and caught a glimpse of herself in the dark reflective glass of Elaine’s helmet, at the bloodied torn shoulder of her suit.

Elaine slammed her pistol directly into Mila’s helmet, then knocked her gun from her grip.

Mila recovered, grappling with the Phantom, and managed to slam a fist into her arm, making her lose her grip on her own gun. Both pistols drifted away, floating toward the far wall.

Mila tried to push off the wall toward the pistols, but Elaine grabbed her in a tight chokehold.

“Almost there.” Rhys sounded panicked, and Mila didn’t have the breath to respond. “Hang on.”

She fought against Elaine, trying to throw her off, but the two of them just spun in weightless rotation, bouncing off the walls. Mila finally got her feet planted on one of them and pushed hard, slamming herself and Elaine back against a cockpit seatback.

Sweat dripped into Mila’s eyes as they struggled, and blackness crowded around the edges of her vision as the oxygen escaped her suit. The cargo hold was wide open, all their oxygen gone. Soon Mila’s suit would be just as empty.

Elaine kicked off the seat, propelling them both down the aisle, sending them flying toward the floating pistols.

Mila was still in a tight chokehold as she reached for the nearest pistol, but the gun spun out of reach. The Phantom punched Mila in the ribs, hard, and squeezed the bloody wound on her shoulder.

Mila nearly blacked out.

Without warning, the gravity came back on, slamming Mila and Elaine to the floor. The pistols clattered to the floor with them. Mila scrambled away from Elaine and closed her gloved fist around the nearest one. She flipped over on her back, pointing the gun up at the Phantom just as she was about to attack.

The Phantom froze and slowly lifted her hands, palms out, in a gesture of surrender. Mila’s pale, stricken countenance reflected back at her from Elaine’s dark glass visor.

Rhys ran through the door, pistol out.

“Cuff her. Throw her in the pod. I need oxygen,” Mila gasped. The pistol wavered in her grip as she fought to stay focused. She was suffocating.

Rhys slammed the Phantom into the wall, then dragged her into a restraint pod.

In moments, he was back, reestablishing oxygen levels from the cockpit. Then he lifted Mila’s helmet from her head, and the dark spots clouding her vision faded. She could breathe again.

She tried to smile up at Rhys, but the stabbing pain in her shoulder made it come out in a grimace. “We got her.”

Rhys took off his helmet and lightly touched her cheek, his brow furrowed with worry. “Yeah, we got her. But it looks like she got you.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Rhys grabbed a medpen and plunged it into her arm. The healing agent took over, easing Mila’s pain.

Then Rhys leaned down and gently pressed his warm lips to hers. As they kissed, relief flooded her. She hadn’t allowed herself to admit how worried she’d been for him when he went into the freighter.

She lifted a hand to the rough stubble of his cheek, and Rhys laid his hand over hers. “You were right,” he said. “I think my professional judgment’s been compromised . . . by this. By us. I never should have agreed to that plan. We should’ve waited. But I saw that stubborn look on your face, and . . .”

Mila shook her head. “If you’re compromised, so am I.” She gave him another kiss. “We’ll figure this out. The important thing is that we both made it out okay. We completed the mission.”

Rhys finally cracked a smile and helped Mila to her feet. “We did it. Are you ready to unmask our Phantom?”

“I’ve never been more ready in my life.”

Rhys typed in the pod’s code, and the door slid open, revealing the Phantom cuffed to the interior bar.

This was the woman they’d hunted for months, the woman who had nearly killed them on more than one occasion. And they’d never even known what she really looked like.

Rhys raised a brow at Mila. “You want to do the honors, or should I?”

Mila lifted a brow in return, and he stepped out of her way. She winced as she used both hands to unlatch the Phantom’s helmet. She pulled it off with one swift movement and took a step back.

She and the Phantom met eye-to-eye for the first time.

And Mila’s heart nearly stopped. She lifted a shaking hand to her mouth, covering it.

Rhys gave her a confused look.

“Evony Salinas,” the Phantom said. “Who knew a Salinas would ever go into bounty hunting?”

Rhys’s eyes widened. “Who? What’s going on, Mila?”

The Phantom stared at Mila intently. “Going by your middle name now?”

“You know the Phantom?” Rhys’s voice was low, incredulous.

Mila dropped her hand from her mouth and finally found her voice. She backed up another step. “Her name is Casey Phan.”

“Phan? As in Phan Pharmaceuticals?”

Mila nodded. “The same. But . . . Casey Phan was murdered ten years ago.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

#star citizen #squadron 42

0 notes

sad-ch1ld · 5 years

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