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spookyspecterino · 2 years

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Hornet and The Wasp

Tangerine x !Younger Sister Reader

Word Count: 5.6K

(Reader's codename is Wasp)

When you shadow Hornet, your big sister, on an 'easy' mission to kill a target and retrieve a silver brief case, neither of you are prepared for how hard it turns out to be.

SFW; Canon typical violence, AU/Canon divergence, blood, language, pining, slight age gap (Reader is 21, Tangerine is 32).

A/N: This was a request that I took and absolutely went off the rails with. I loved writing it so much, it was an absolute blast! I may write more for them in the future, I love a good sibling dynamic and there is so much potential here.

“Are you seriously going to wear that out of the bathroom?”

“Do you have a better idea? I can’t exactly walk into the employee lounge.”

“Isn’t someone going to be suspicious?”

“So? Momomon had to take a little bathroom break. Focus on getting the snake onboard.”

“This is easy, you know I have it covered… You always give me the baby tasks.”

“It’s because you’re a baby.”

“Am not.”

“My baby sister.”

You groaned, letting that serve as a response.

Across the busy train station, you saw your older sister exit the women’s restroom wearing the pink and white mascot costume. She passed several waving children without even turning to look at them.

You chided her over the comms piece in your ear. “Remember to act like a mascot, Hornet.”

“I will once I get on the train, Wasp.”

Stepping forward, you received your ticket and went along your way through security. Having given a few well-placed bribes the day before, it was a breeze. No one even attempted to check inside your bags or the crate that carried the Boomslang snake. A baby task, just as you had said.

The outside air was crisp and biting as you exited the building and stood patiently waiting on the platform. There were only a few others outside, all had their heads down—hands in pockets; most preferred to wait in the comfort of the station. Trying to smooth your dress down with a hand did nothing to calm your impatience.

You rolled your shoulders, looking for the familiar form of a fluffy mascot, but seeing none. “I’m on the platform, what’s your position?”

“Dealing with some children. Be there shortly.”

“Good to hear you’re getting in some much-needed practice.”

There was a sound of grumbling before Hornet asked, “See anyone interesting waiting for the train?”

“By interesting, do you mean big scary killers or our pathetic little Russian child? Either way—oh!”

Your words were cut off as you were roughly bumped into and jostled forward. A strong hand caught your arm as you were about to stumble and pulled you back.

The man who held your arm in his warm grasp—a very good-looking British gentleman in his early 30’s with a mustache, was offering his apologies.

His eyes scanned your face and his hand lingered before pulling away slowly. “Terribly sorry, love.”

Behind him stood another gentleman, who had a softer face and wore a more casual, but still nice, jacket. He wasn’t looking at you as he hastily pulled a blanket around someone in a wheelchair. Off the back of the chair’s handles hung a silver briefcase.

You tore your eyes away from the mustached man to examine the person slumped over. Instinct told you that this wasn’t normal. Their head hung down toward their lap, no doubt unconscious, and there was a blanket around their shoulders, draped over their face.

The handsome man side-stepped to block your view. You caught sight of gold rings on his fingers. “Just trying to get our friend here ready for the train. Pardon us.”

From behind the wheelchair, the other man gave you a polite smile as he roughly wheeled their ‘friend’ away down the length of the platform.

Hornet’s tense voice came in through the comms. “Who was that? What happened? Wasp?”

Your eyes followed after the man in the suit, lavishly taking in the sight of his strong shoulders. “I think I may have found our targets. There’s good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

There was a pause. “Bad news.”

“Ok, so bad news is our targets are being escorted by two men, thick British accents—no doubt hired for the job. The good news is one of them is positively gorgeous. I mean just a walking sculpture; you should see his mustache. Like, holy sh—"

“Wasp! Focus!”

Your eyes drifted down the platform toward the two men who were talking amongst themselves as they waited, settling on the one with gold rings. God, his fingers were thick. “Oh, I’m focused alright.”

“Jesus Christ—” There was an aggravated sigh before Hornet started over. “Ok, you said they were British? What does the other one look like?”

“Heavier set, a little taller, rounder face.”

“Shit, it’s The Twins.”

“Well, uh, no—I wouldn’t call them twins, per se…”

“That’s their whole thing. Don’t be fooled—they’re brothers. Their codenames are based off citrus fruit and they go absolutely crazy on jobs. Do not get near them, do not engage. You understand me, Wasp?”

Hornet’s words were lost as the approaching train rolled up into the station with an accompanying gust of cold wind that ruffled the edge of your dress. Your eyes were still on one of the twins when he turned and caught you staring. That was fine by you—his eyes stayed glued to yours as the train came to a halt.

Too far away to discern his expression, you wondered what he was thinking as he turned his body slightly toward you while still talking to his brother.

The sound of the train doors sliding open with a ding brought you out of your thoughts, and you broke the stare to look inside at the passengers exiting in a steady stream. When they had all filtered out, you cast one more look in his direction, pleased to see that he hadn’t stopped watching you, then boarded the train.

Inside, it was very nice. Rows of padded seats filled both sides. All of the passengers minded their own business, focused on what they had in front of them. Soft music and cartoons played over the speakers of TV’s around the cabin.

You spoke nonchalantly, unbothered by any of the passengers. “I’m on the train. Heading for the cargo hold.”

Your sister’s gruff voice came over the comms, she sounded grumpy. “Copy. Boarding now.” After a beat, she added, “You still haven’t given me your word that you won’t engage with The Twins.”

“That’s because I fully intend to, sis.”

“Absolutely not.”

You sighed dramatically as you passed through into the next cabin. “You always do this when men are involved.”

“Ok, first off, I’m your older sister—that’s part of my job. And second off, you are only 21 years old. That man, he’s probably in his 40’s—”

“—Early 30’s, at most.” You added a smile to your tone in an attempt at making her angrier, “And you know how much I love a mature man.”

“He’s dangerous, Wasp.”

“Ooh, even better.”

“Are you doing this just to piss me off? You did the same thing in Mexico at that wedding job.”

“That? Oh, that was forced. And quite honestly, he wasn’t leaving me alone.”

“…You should have told me.”

“What would’ve been the point? He wound up dead along with the rest of them, anyway.”

“I would have enjoyed poisoning them more.”

“Aw, big protective sis. All up in arms over me.”

The last door slid open to reveal a small closet-like room that held suitcases and bags. Finding an empty spot, you stashed the snake and made sure there was no danger of it falling or being moved.

You let your eyes wander and observe the other bags as you informed Hornet. “Our venomous friend is secure.”

“You have your shot of antivenom, right?”

Practically rolling your eyes into the back of your head, you replied while patting the leg it was strapped to, “For the thousandth time, yes.”

“Good, and don’t use the venom unless—”

“—Unless I have no other choice, I got it. You worry too much.” Peeking out of the small door’s window into the passenger cabin, you scanned the backs of the chairs. “When do I get to kill the little rat bastard with it?”

“Easy there, tiger. If all goes according to plan, you’ll only be watching.”

You pouted. “What? Why?”

“You’re only supposed to be shadowing me on these missions.”

“How am I gonna spread my wings and fly if you keep me in the nest?”

“You know how much I hate that saying.”

“It still applies.”

There was an angry huff from Hornet and she fell silent. Faintly in the background, you could hear the squeaking of the Momomon suit and children’s laughter. You exited the storage room and made your way back toward your seat at the front of the train.

As you entered the tail end of first class, your eyes caught sight of a familiar suit and slick-backed, brown hair. He was facing away from you, toward his brother who was fiddling with something in his lap. Your heart would have gone into overtime if your eyes hadn’t caught sight of The Son, one of your targets, sitting next to the window.

The little shit had apparently caught sight of you too, as he gave you a slimy smile. Repressing the urge to vomit, you smiled sweetly back.

Seeing the gross smile on the brat’s face, the stunning man turned around to see what he was smiling at and caught your eyes. The sweet smile on your lips turned genuine as his face lit up with recognition and the corners of his lips, mustache and all, curled into a crooked smile. You whished for the universe to create some kind of reason for you to stop next to them.

Apparently you had wished on a monkey’s paw instead, because you were about to pass by them when a heavy Russian accent stopped you. “Excuse me, beautiful.”

Turning, and feigning bashfulness—as if looking at this weird man-child wasn’t the last thing you wanted to do, you blinked at him and spoke softly. “Yes?”

He leaned forward, you could see the tattoos on his face pinch up as he smiled wider. “Let me ask you something, would you know where I could find some entertainment on this train?"

Was he serious?

You blinked at him, playing innocent. “Entertainment? I’m not sure what you mean.”

Hornet’s angry voice was in your ear immediately. “Who the fuck is talking to you like that?”

She almost drowned out his next words—that is, if he hadn’t been drawing them out like he loved hearing himself talk. “Yes, you know. A little companionship for a long—”

A heavenly British accent cut through to interrupt him “—Deepest apologies, my dear. Our friend here, has lost his manners.” A gold-ringed hand was white knuckled against the table as its owner leaned forward and shot glaring daggers at the Russian. His jaw clenched more than a few times.

“He’s not right in the head.” His brother across from him added, with a nod.

You met The Son’s gross eyes, right after they were done raking over your figure, and tilted your head, batting your eyelashes a few times. No point in wasting the opportunity.

“What’s your name?” You could have been a fuckin actress at this rate.

He opened his mouth to answer, but the man sitting next to him thumped his chest with a flat, heavy hand, holding him back and speaking for him. “His name’s Percy.”

Your eyes moved to examine his gentle face closely, without malice. You thought you saw little flecks of red on his shirt, just under the edge of his jacket.

“Right, and that’s Lemon,” golden rings pointed toward the man next to ‘Percy’, then back to their owner, “and I’m Tangerine.”

Turning to look between the brothers, you tried out their names, your smile spreading and infecting your voice as you said ‘Tangerine’. Something flashed behind his eyes as you said it.

“Wasp, you are not doing what I think you’re doing!”

You drowned your sister’s voice out as you focused on Tangerine’s words. “And what’s your name, love?”

Everything was going to plan, swimmingly in fact, until, “Was—..” you swallowed the rest of your codename, forgetting to make up something else instead and replying automatically. It sounded strangely cut off and like you had made a mistake.

Tangerine frowned a little, catching on the slip-up, eyes flicking over to meet Lemon’s. They shared a silent conversation. The tone of the interaction shifted drastically into something suspicious, you could distinctly feel it. The Twins were watching you closely, examining you.

The Son snorted, but it did nothing to ease the tension. “Your name is Wass?”

“Get out of there, Wasp. Go, right now. Turn and leave. I’m inbound.”

You lifted your chin a little, stubbornness shining through. “It’s foreign,” sassily, you added, “Percy.”

The Russian snapped his mouth shut with a glare. Tangerine studied you as Lemon asked, “And what brought you to getting on the train today?”

Just as you were about to make up an answer, a blond man with thick black glasses rushed through the cabin, clutching something square-shaped and covered in a green jacket, against his chest. He cast glances over his shoulder as he ran down the aisle. You, and The Twins, silently watched him pass by and into the next train car.

“Lemon, would you please go and check on…” Tangerine’s voice was full of uncertainty. You wondered where Hornet was. Lemon agreed, getting up from his seat, quickly following after the man.

The air had taken on a tight uncomfortableness that you weren’t keen on stewing in. “I think I’m going to return to my seat now—"

As you turned to go in the direction that the blond man had come from, the train door glided open, in the frame stood someone you recognized. Someone from the wedding job in Mexico.

And he looked pissed.

What the fuck was he doing here? The Wolf’s eyes instantly snapped to you. His head tilted to the side; dark brows furrowed. You saw the flash of recognition dawn on him. As his body tensed and he started forward, you whirled back to face the curious, albeit now suspicious, eyes of Tangerine.

You gave a breathy laugh that may have sounded like you were in pain, and your voice came out strained. “Please, excuse me.”

As the sound of thundering footsteps neared, you dashed away, dancing just out of reach from The Wolf’s grasping hand, past him, and through the door that he had entered from, without a second glance back.

Breathlessly, as you sped up your pace through the passenger cars, “Hornet, we got problems. We got big bad problems. The whole plan just went tits-up.”

“What’s going on?”

“The fucking Wolf is here! He’s seen me and obviously remembers me.”

“Why the fuck is he—Ok, doesn’t matter, get somewhere safe! Hide Wasp! I’m gonna make a run on the brat and then we can figure out where the briefcase is and get the hell off this train.”

“Pretty sure some guy—blond, glasses; 99% sure he has it!”

“Alright, just hide and stay there. Wait for me, I’ll be quick.”

“Yep—already on it!”

You rushed through the train cars looking for an empty place to hide. Mostly by sheer luck, you ran into an empty food station car. Bright, colorful bags of chips, snacks, and candies lined the wall behind the counter. You were about to hop over it when the door slid open and The Wolf barreled forward.

His hand grabbed you by the back of your neck and flung you against the opposite wall, knocking the comms piece out of your ear. The impact stunned you and he used the moment to pin you by the throat.

“You were at my wedding.” He growled in your face through gritted teeth. “I saw you flirting with my cousin.”

With his hand around your throat, it was hard to respond, but you croak out, “It was more like he was flirting with me. But no, you’re right, I was there—beautiful event, by the way.” You slowly dipped your hand into the small pocket of your dress.

He pulled you away from the wall to slam you back into it, now holding you at arm’s length. His head reared back to watch the pained expression on your face. Your fingers closed around something in your pocket at the same time as The Wolf brought out a long knife.

With a quiet voice, shaking from cold fury, he brought the knife up to point at your neck. “Did you poison mi familia?”

Whipping the syringe of Boomslang venom out, you attempted to stab him in the arm, or anywhere that you could reach. But he saw the movement and was faster as he knocked it away, sending the venom flying out of sight. He had just gotten his answer.

“Fuuuck.” You hissed, right before his hand pressed harder into your neck, it was getting very difficult to breathe. The knife jabbed into your pulse. You felt a bead of something hot roll down the length of your neck.

“You will pay for what you did.”

Squirming and struggling did nothing, only serving to drive the knife tip further in. Hot, thick blood began to trickle down into the collar of your dress, soaking the fabric. His hungry eyes watched your face twist in pain as he dug the knife in more. A dizziness washed over you, clashing with the buzz of adrenaline. The corners of your vision were starting to go black and you thought you might pass out.

“You know, mate, I honestly don’t think she’s capable of doing what you’re accusin’ her of.”

The wolf’s head whips around to the source of the voice.

Tangerine stood just in front of the door, adjusting the gold rings on his hand. His suit jacket had been discarded, shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing a gold chain around his neck, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He pointed to you. “I mean, look at her. Just a little kitten, that one.”

Tangerine tried to take a step forward, but The Wolf shouted a word of warning, twisting the knife into a position that would allow him to easily impale your neck with a shove of his arm. You tried to clear your eyes and keep yourself from passing out, but each blink became longer.

“Easy, easy…” Tangerine soothed. “No need to get nasty.”

From your position you could see Tangerine’s eyes flicking to you and to somewhere off to your right…

“She tried to poison me.” The Wolf argued back, glaring at Tangerine. “Just like how she poisoned everyone at my wedding.”

Your eyes drifted to the right and there was a perfectly placed metal coffee pot. Had that always been there?

Tangerine whistled, mockingly. “How many people were there? Are we talking a large event? Must have been quite impressive to get absolutely everyone in a single go.”

The Wolf’s grip on your neck lessened as he moved his body to face Tangerine. He was in the middle of snarling out a half-formed word as you swung the coffee pot up to connect with his head. There was a satisfying clang that accompanied his eyes rolling back, and he collapsed onto the ground, hard. He didn’t move again.

You stumbled, lowering the coffee pot as you tried to maintain your unsteady footing. It fell out of your fingers and thudded to the floor. Spots blotted out parts of your vision. Looking to the ground you searched for your comms piece, but the movement sent the world tipping. It was furthered by the sight of your dress collar being soaked in blood all the way down to your sleeve.

“Shit.” You hissed, lurching forward.

Sturdy, strong arms wrapped around your waist before you could hit the floor. Gently, much too gently for a contract killer, Tangerine lowered you to a sitting position up against the food counter. Your breath was coming out in fast and unsteady huffs while your eyes still raked over the ground.

You had to find your comms, you had to know where Hornet was.

Tangerine’s calming voice soothed your thoughts as he pressed a hand to your shoulder, keeping you from moving. “Hang on, steady now. I have to fix you up,” His incredibly blue eyes met yours, “before you go back out and get into more trouble.”

He takes your hand and presses it into your neck while he stands and looks around for any kind of first aid. As he rummages behind the counter you catch sight of your small comms piece and clumsily crawl toward it. You can hear the rummaging stop and his footsteps approach. Before you can reach the little ear bud, a gold ringed hand comes down and scoops it up. Your eyes follow it up to where Tangerine studies it, turning it in his fingers.

Glancing between you and the ear piece, he looks like he wants to say something, but decides not to. You only watch him with guarded eyes. He kneels down to level himself with you; there’s a first aid kit in one of his hands. Slowly, he holds out the ear piece without a word and you take it, bloody fingers brushing his.

He watches you with open curiosity as you shove it into your ear, never breaking eye contact with him. On the other end it sounds like Hornet is slipping clothes on over her head. You’re tempted to speak, to check in on her, but you can’t with Tangerine so close. You figure that if she’s still active that must be a good sign.

Tangerine’s eyes drift to look at your neck and he begins to open the first aid kit, pulling out medical supplies and bandages. He spreads the contents onto the ground around you.

Speaking casually, he rips open a packet of disinfectant wipes. “So, what’s your target?” he gives you a look with a glint in his eyes, “And don’t try to play coy with me, love.”

A small whine escaped you as the cold disinfectant touched your skin and stung. His eyes flickered to yours and back to what he was doing, if you weren’t mesmerized and watching his every movement, you’d have missed it.

Despite the stinging pain you grinned. “Did the earpiece give me away?”

A twitch of his mustache revealed his smile. “Actually, it was when you messed up saying your own name.” He lifted the wipe and observed the gash. There was a distinct playfulness in his voice. “Are you new at this?”

You gave him a scoff. “I’ve been on plenty of jobs.”

Noise played into your ear, starting with a mixture of voices. They were muffled, like something was covering the mic. There was crashing soon after, in between more voices. Maybe Hornet had found the briefcase.

Tangerine hummed, sounding amused. After a pause, he glanced at you again and toward your ear. “Who’s that over your comms? Your handler?”

“…Sister”

His fingers paused for a brief second and his smile grew. “Younger or older?”

“Older.”

“Aw, you’re on a little family operation? Positively adorable.”

Adding a challenge to your tone, “Same as you.”

His eyes flashed to yours and you took his silence as an invitation to continue. “Lemon—that’s your brother. I’ve heard a thing or two about you.”

He pulled the wipe away to change it out for a new one, it came away red, but you were starting to feel better. It felt like the bleeding had stopped. Tangerine half scolded himself. “I should have known you recognized us. Should have known from the moment you started a little chat.”

“Maybe I wanted to chat ‘cause I think you’re attractive.” You huffed. “It certainly wasn’t for that weasel.”

Tangerine can’t help his pleased smile, mustache twitching at the corners as his eyes sparkled. “Feelings mutual. I certainly enjoyed you coming over to talk, but I try to keep my desires in check while on a job.”

Clearly amused, and with an easy smile on your lips, you hummed softly. It was the closest you could get to laughing at the moment. “Why, honey? I’m cute.”

Tangerine’s smile broke into a slow spreading grin. He leaned in, feigning as if he was concentrating on cleaning the cut, but he could see just fine before. His breath was soft and warm on your face; a pleasant contrast to the cold disinfectant he spread on your skin.

“No argument there, sweetheart.”

He pulled the wipe away; it was less red than the last. Your attention follows his hands as he picked up another. It was curious to see such a soft side from one of the notorious contract killer Twins.

Your eyes hold his as you speak. “Guess I owe you—for saving my life.”

“This? Ah, only a scratch. You’ll be up in no time.”

A look dances in his eyes, maybe a realization, and something in the air crackles between the short distance of your faces. “But, I won’t turn you down—if you’re offering.”

There was a sudden loud gasping and calling of your name over your comms. It wasn’t Wasp—but your real name. Hornet was calling for help, cutting out intermittently through crashing and what sounded like gulps of air.

“Shit!” You shout, making Tangerine pull back in confusion.

His brows furrowed instantly as he watched you scramble to your feet, swaying slightly. He didn’t have time to stop you or even call out before you were pelting down the train car and out the sliding door. He jumps to his feet running after you. As he passes through the door you’re already at the end of the next cabin. You might not be strong, but you’re fast.

“Hornet! Hornet, what’s wrong? What’s your position?”

“Stabbed with venom. No antidote…Wasp...”

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, making your mind race. “Fuck! I’m inbound—just stay put, ok?”

There was no response and your chest tightened. At most, you had 30 seconds to get to her before…oh god, you couldn’t think about that.

Behind you, about a train car and a half away, Tangerine gets a phone call. He would ignore it usually, but the caller ID was a lemon emoji so he answered while running.

“Yeah? Kinda busy.”

“The Son is dead.”

“Fuck, you’re joking…”

“Bleedin’ out of his eyes—a real frightful mess.”

“Clean ‘em up. I’ll meet with you soon as I’m done.”

“…What are you doing? Are you bloody running?”

Tangerine hangs up the call and shoves the phone back into his pant pocket.

You burst through a door and into the bar car, the yellow glow of the lights giving the room an almost cozy feeling. That would have been the vibe if you hadn’t come in to find the place an absolute disaster, and your sister, now wearing a train personnel uniform and hat, bleeding out of her eyes as she tries to grip at things along the floor.

The blonde man is stumbling out of the opposite end door with the silver case in hand. As he sees you, he starts to say something, but stumbles right into Lemon as the door slides open. He spins around and as the door shuts there’s the muffled sounds of shouting.

You ignore everything and fly to Hornet, who’s barely moving. Tracks of blood run down her face like tears, it’s a sight that will haunt you for the rest of your life. The dose of antivenom, strapped to your leg, was yanked out and shoved into her neck as fast as humanly possible.

Picking her head up off the ground, you cradle it. “It’s ok, I’m here. It’s ok. Please be ok.”

Seconds tick by as you hold your breath, and it feels like an eternity before her choking stops and her breathing returns to normal, but she remains unconscious.

Tangerine comes rushing through the other door and stops to take in the scene. He’s out of breath and panting heavily, sweat shines on his forehead and neck. His eyes find you on the ground cradling, who he assumes, is your sister. Then he noticed the blood coming out of her eyes.

“Who got your sister?”

You wiped a strand of hair off her face, “No one, well, her own venom did this.”

He stops to think for a beat. “Your sister is The Hornet?” Then pauses, the gears in his head turning “You’re The Wasp?”

If this had been any other time you would have beamed that someone like Tangerine knew about you, or had at least heard of you. But the only thing you felt now was a slow sense of dread inching into your veins.

You can see the emotions crossing his face one at a time. “Your sister killed The White Death’s Son. He was part of our contract.”

You spoke slowly, your expression cautious. “That prick and the fucking briefcase were our targets.”

Tangerine’s brow furrows, drawing a deep line into his forehead. His blue eyes were dark with what looked like equal measures of worry, concern, and something else.

Your body tenses, unsure of what Tangerine was going to do next. If he wanted to fight, you had your qualms over that and you preferred not to, but you would sooner die than let anything get through to your sister.

He takes a slow, drawing breath. His following words are careful, even, measured. “The White Death is gonna be at the last stop in Kyoto. I’m going to need to bring in the person responsible for his son’s death…”

The consequences of failing to do so were heavily implied as his voice trailed off, letting you imagine them for yourself. Your grip tightened around Hornet.

To Tangerine you looked more dangerous now than you had ever before; fiercely beautiful in every way, but ready to strike in the blink of an eye.

“Take that other guy then—the one who ran out of here with the briefcase. Blonde man, thick, black glasses. I think your brother was about to intercept him… As for me and my sister, we’ll get off at the next stop. You can have the briefcase—I don’t give a fuck about it anymore. Just let me take my sister to the hospital.”

He chewed his lip momentarily, looking like he was going to argue, before you added, “Please.”

That last little ‘please’ came out small and vulnerable. It was so out of character for you that it surprised Tangerine into dropping his guard. Looking down at the sight of you on the ground cradling your sister, he saw himself in you, just trying to protect your sibling; keep them safe against all odds in an extraordinarily dangerous profession.

However, when he didn’t respond—didn’t move or react, something shifted into your expression and body language. Something defensively hostile. Your eyes watched Tangerine with a palpable intensity that made his heart beat wildly fast. There was an unpredictability there that reminded him of a trapped animal, one that was about to make its escape through you, mauling anything in the way.

Desperation, and giving how fast you could be, Tangerine would likely be stabbed before he could get a shot off. Maybe before he could even bring himself to pull the gun out. The last thing he wanted was to fight you.

10 minutes ago, he was going to suggest dinner. Now, he wasn’t sure he was going to live to get the chance. What a tragedy that would be.

The silence was now bordering on suffocating as you simply stared at one another. It was finally broken by Tangerine’s long, winded release of a heavy breath. Had he been holding it? The pain in his lungs suggested so.

He ran a tremoring hand through his hair, attempting to tame the curls that sprung free. “Yeah, that could work.”

To his relief, the intensity dropped almost immediately and your piercing eyes left his and went back down to examine Hornet. You move her, preparing to pull her up.

Tangerine helps, slinging her arm around your shoulder. Just in time for the next stop. As the train slows down, he escorts you to the door, supporting Hornet’s other arm.

He takes your hand for support as you get off the train and step onto the platform. He doesn’t let go and you look up at him as he half hangs out of the doorway. His eyes look worried, full of unspoken words. You must look the same, because you can see him fighting to say something. You let go of his hand, noticing the resistance from his end, and dig around in your pocket producing a piece of paper. You shove it toward him.

Tangerine frowns slightly, looking down at it as he gingerly takes it. The dinging sound of the train and the swish of the doors starting to close force him back inside. He stands by the door, watching you out of the small window, eyes locked with yours, as the train begins to speed away. The touch of his hand on yours lingers.

Once out of the station, Tangerine leans against the wall. He looks down at the little piece of paper that he realizes is a tiny, handmade business card. One side was a picture of a wasp; flipping it over, he sees a phone number and smiles.

About 5 minutes later you get a text while riding in the back of an ambulance next to Hornet.

It’s from an unknown number. The first thing sent is an emoji of a Tangerine. Then:

Did you make this business card yourself?

You respond back,

Yes, thought I’d need something if I want to go professional one day.

His response is immediate.

It’s cute.

Thank you.

He sends a message a minute later and you smile to yourself as you read it, hearing his voice in your mind.

I didn’t get a chance to ask earlier, and I think it’s a shame that I have to over text, but how about we talk more. Over dinner?

Thought you would never ask. Where are you getting off the train?

🍊 Taglist: @whatiswrongwithpeople

#bullet train #tangerine bullet train #tangerine #tangerine x reader #younger sister reader #fem reader #requested

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cringywhitedragon · 2 years

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Alolatale Info: The Amalgamates (Project Chimera Test Subjects)

Intro: The failed attempts of experimentation during Phase 1 of the Aether Foundation's secretive "Project Chimera" Experiments, an attempt by the foundation to create a "Beast Killer" to help combat the extraterrestrial threat of UBs before they switched to experimenting on Pokemon through the use of a Modified form of Determination.

All of these subjects are Monsters who had "Fallen Down". In hopes of trying to get their souls to linger after they passed on, their comatose bodies were injected with Determination. The aftermath of this experiment resulted in the subject's melting and fusing into a series of horrifying monstrosities who would later be sealed away in one of the abandoned wings of the Foundation where the experiments took place.

There are currently 7 known subjects that have been recorded in the Foundation Database:

Specimen 001 (Codename: MEMORYHEAD)

Comprised of: Unknown (Believed to have been created from the residue left behind by the other subjects)

Bio: The origins of this specific specimen are currently unknown as it isn't composed of any of the documented test subjects. Tests however, have shown that it's body is actually comprised of residue left behind from the other subjects.

There are currently three known instances of this being. These creatures communicate using methods similar to that of Unown. To the naked ear, they sound like noises one might hear from an old dial-up connection but this all changes when the listener uses any form of communication device capable of picking up a signal.

Those who hear it's voices are encouraged to "Join them". Some have reported a feeling of being tempted towards these creatures and report having a hard time resisting the voices. It is best if you refuse their advances and get away as soon as possible.

Extra: It is also known that these creatures have a tendency to leave behind parts of themselves on any surface they might come into contact with. Dubbed a "Bad Memory" by Employees, it is highly recommended that you don't handle this substance with your bare hands as contact or consumption can result in symptoms similar to that of PTSD. Fortunately these affects only last about a minute and it's recommended that any "Bad Memories" found to be laying about be sealed into an air-tight container as it has also been know to return to those who touch it.

Specimen 002 (Codename : ENDOGENY)

Comprised of: Dog Monsters

Info: The first of the "true amalgamates". This specimen is entirely comprised of dog-like monsters. It's considered to be one of the more safer subjects due to it's friendly demeanor but it is still advised to remain cautious around it like the others.

The subject has a large hole on it's head that leaks out an unidentifiable black substance when it is happy. This substance thankfully is considered harmless.

Specimen 003 (Codenames: REAPER BIRD)

Known Composition: Wimsalot, Final Froggit, Astigmatism

Bio: An elongated bird-like creature. This subject is known for it's rather elusive nature as it prefers to say out of the way of most people. Despite it's rather frail appearance, it is capable of shapeshifting into another form dubbed "EVERYMAN", a form it often takes when it decides to attack.

The Reaper Bird's last reported sighting was by an employee who was snooping around the old Subject Storage room.

Specimen 004 (Codename: SILENT NIGHT)

Comprised of: Rudolph "Rudy" Holiday, Gyftrot, Icecap

Bio: A deer-like amalgamate that partially resembles a Christmas tree. Silent Night , or Rudy, is one of the more friendlier of the test subjects and currently poses no active danger to any Employees. He's described as being rather jovial and friendly but has been prone to mood-swings when one of the other subjects tries to take control of their shared body.

Silent Night is covered in Christmas decorations as of a result of a collision with some boxes. They are rather close with subject 006 "So Cold" as the two can often be heard talking about their families.

But despite this subject's usually friendly demeanor towards the staff and other Subjects, Silent Night often shows signs of depression when alone.

Subject 005 (Codename: LEMONBREAD)

Comprised of: Shyra, Moldbygg, Aaron

Bio: By far the most aggressive of all of the subjects. It earned it's codename from the rather distinctive lemony smell that it's body produces.

Both known and feared by most of the Foundation. It has made multiple attempts to escape in the past and was responsible for injuring 4 people when the President's Daughter made an escape with that Cosmog. She distrusts most of the Foundation, especially Branch Chief Faba. The only employee shown to have been able to safely interact with her without being attacked is Alphys.

Specimen 006 (Codename: SO COLD)

Comprised of: Crystal Drake, Vegitoid

Bio: The poor suffering soul of Crystal Drake (Snowdrake's Mother). The most unstable of the subjects as noticed by staff as she appears to be falling apart. She prefers to be alone most of the time but has been noted hanging around with Silent Night.

She earned her codename from the unusual chill that fills the air when she is near.

Specimen 007 (Codename: CHECKMATE)

Comprised of: Darkner Monsters

Bio: Comprised from Monsters that came from another world. It's body is shaped similar to that of a chess piece which is how it got it's codename.

This subject's neon colored body gives off a bioluminescent glow when in the dark. It does not react well to bright light sources and has been known to get agitated if directly shined with a light source like a flashlight

#Alolatale AU #Alolatale Lore #undertale au #undertale #amalgmates #true lab #project chimera #pokemon usum #aether foundation #deltarune #Amalgam!Rudy is now a thing #Don't worry he and the others will get a happy ending #reaper bird #memoryhead #silent night #checkmate #endogany #lemon bread

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thr-333 · 4 years

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Just Another Class Trip :) Part 6

Marinette goes on a nice peaceful trip to the pool. Me? sarcasm? how dare you sir!

First< Previous >Next

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

“Did you find what you were looking for Marinette?” Kagami asks oh so foolishly.

“Kagami look into my eyes and ask me that again,” Marinette dares, her eyes red rimmed with bags underneath bigger than Chloe's luggage.

“... You found your glasses?”

“Never mind,” She sighs, finishing the rest of her coffee, “At least that one isn't missing,”

“I thought you only wore them as M-you-know-who,” Chloe whispers, a purposeful look towards Lila’s posse leading the way to the bus.

“Just wanted to try them out without a mask,” She brushes off easily, she needed to be able to transport back to Paris at any time after all.

“Oh it was just terrible!” Lila cries, capturing the attention of everyone surrounding her.

“Did she finally hear a recording of herself?” Chloe scoffs, making Adrien shush her and Marinette crack a smile.

“This Starling kidnapped and tortured me for information,”

If only I had

“Luckily Batman was there to save me, but I knew he would be,” Lila croons, the class fretting over her all the while, “He was probably searching furiously the second I didn’t return his call,”

“When did she get Batman’s phone number?” Chloe whispers to her.

“No idea, think she’d give it to me?” Marinette smirks.

“Oh sure I bet it's 3825968,” Chloe laughs at her own joke.

Marinette doesn't get it but Kagami starts laughing, so she moves to stand next to Adrien while they share a moment.

“Any idea?”

“Not really,”

They reach the door going through it to find Gotham in the nice peaceful state it's always been.

Just kidding, lights start flashing in their faces and everyone around them is yelling. Lila of course tries to take this opportunity to get attention. To Marinette's great delight they push right past her, and to her horror opt to shove a million microphones in her face.

“Miss Wayne were you adopted?!”

“Yes but-” the cameras start flashing and the yelling increases tenfold.

“When?! How long ago!?!”

“A baby I guess?” She hadn't known her birth parents after all.

“How have you stay'n out of the public's eye for so long?”

By not being like Lila for one

“Mari I don’t think you’re talking about the same thing,”

“Yeah thanks, I’m getting that Adrien,”

“Adrien Agreste? Are you two dating?!”

“Great,” She ignores them, instead whispering to Adrien, “From now on Buttercup will be your codename,”

“Cool,” He leans in to whisper in her ear, “But I don’t think that’s helping things,”

It’s at this point the cameras are going crazy taking a million pictures of the two whispering in each others ear, while Kagami and Chloe try to push them all back. The class follow behind just as confused. Madame Bustier is trying to reason with the crowd, trying to . They reach the curb, fighting not to be pushed onto the road by the crowd. A limousine pulls up and for a wonderful second Marinette thinks Liam has come to save her, the wonderful manager he is. Instead Alfred steps out, surprising to say the least. He ushers her inside and tells the rest of the class the bus will be through momentarily. Marinette slides into the car right next to Bruce Wayne… well.

“Hello again, I um…” Marinette thinks back to their last meeting, “I don’t think I actually told you my name,”

“No you didn’t,” Bruce chuckles, “And Selina has been avoiding me ever since,”

“Sorry, well I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng Auntie Selina’s niece,” Marinette shakes his hand, “She didn’t tell me she was engaged,”

“Bruce Wayne, Selina didn’t tell me she had a niece,”

“Yeah, that's a bad habit isn't it?”

“Indeed,” Bruce pauses, both trying to reach for a conversation topic, “So you like fashion?”

She had said she would design her aunts wedding dress. She should probably double check that with the groom, whoops,

“I do I already sketched out some designs,” She takes out her sketchbook which has a good thirty pages dedicated to wedding dresses, “Oh you were probably going to hire a professional designer weren’t you?”

“We were considering MDC,”

“.... I think that’ll work out just fine either way,”

“Hm,” Bruce looks curiously at her as she hides away her sketch book, she would be using those designs either way.

“Anyway!” She changes the topic oh so subtly, “About those reporters…”

“Theres a certain rumour running rampant that you are a Wayne, after someone took a photo of you with my son at the airport,” Bruce explains, switching over to business mode in a heat beat, she could appreciate that, “We’ve been doing our best to contain it, but…”

“At the airport…” She mutters to herself, “Oh! Tim’s your son, that explains Alfred, that must mean Dick is too!... work at Wayne tower, yeah very funny,”

She tries not to roll her eyes at their understatement of the century, wasn't Tim Drake a CEO there?

“Impressive, have you met Damian too?” Bruce asks, a slight smile that would have called Kagami expressive.

“Not yet, but should I invest in a bingo card?”

“Maybe so,”

They fall into silence Marinette would usually hold polite conversation but her thoughts were in turmoil. Lila didn’t seem to know anything about the miraculous then again her interrogation was cut short by a certain someone . However Tikki had advised her against placing all the blame on Lila, she needed to consider other options as well. But who else could it be? she was in Gotham Hawkmoth couldn't reach her… unless he somehow...

“Marinette are you alright?”

Marinette startles look over at Bruce who is blurred by tears. She hadn't even realised she’d been crying.

“I-I’m sorry,” She hiccups trying fruitlessly to wipe away the tears, “I-it just…”

“It’s ok,” Bruce rubs her back comfortingly, but boy did he choose the wrong words.

“IT’S NOT OK!” Marinette yells not looking at anyone in the car, they didn’t matter, nothing else mattered, she had failed and people were going to suffer for it, “I left it behind! It’s all my fault! Now it’s GONE! It’s been stolen and I don’t know where it is!”

“What was stolen?” Bruce presses, getting over the shock of the polite and put together girl melting down into a puddle of sobs.

Now I’ve gone and messed up, time for a classic cover story and some half truths

“A good friend of mine gave me a very important jewellery box,” Marinette sighs, wiping the tears away and rebuilding herself, “It was stolen shortly after arriving in Gotham and I’ve been trying to find it,”

“Do you know who stole it?”

“I thought it was one of my classmates,” Marinette frowns, they should have certainly been there by now, “Still do honestly,”

“Which one?”

“Lila probably,” Marinette tries to keep her tone neutral, tries, “Brown hair that looks like sausages,”

Marinette could almost see the words ‘oh fuck’ written across his face.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, we have arrived,” Alfred speaks up for the first time, not leaving her time to puzzle over the reaction, “Your class arrived some time ago,”

“How did that happen?” Marinette frowns, they should have arrived ages ago.

“Alfred must have taken the scenic route,” Bruce shrugs, acting like an innocent party in all this.

“Well then I guess I’ll see you for the wedding,” Marinette tries not to rush out of the car, certain her class or rather Lila would have caused some grief by now.

“I’ll make sure to send the invites to your family personally,” Bruce promises, shaking her hand before she can run off.

“And I’ll make sure Auntie Selina doesn’t destroy them,” Marinette smiles back brightly, she can see the concern for her all over Bruce's face but doesn't have time to reassure him.

Marinette walks into the indoor pool, knowing her luck the class was already inside. They were and the owner was not happy about it.

“First your class was late then you waltz in here late as well?” The manager berates her.

“I’m sorry sir,” Marinette tries to seem more sincere but her tardiness falls short on the things she has to worry about now.

“That class mate of yours came an yelled at me that one of our pools were dirty so we had to drain the whole thing,”

“Let me guess, sausage hair?” Marinette raises a bow, it really being all the energy she can put into the action.

“Yes,”

“Sorry sir I’ll talk with her,” Marinette promises, she slips into the changing rooms as they grumble about lazy employees.

There is absolutely no way Marinette was going to talk to Lila. She enters the changing room, a shower running somewhere. She tucks Tikki and Kaalki into her bag, Tikki had insisted she relax today, recharge and get ready to find the miraculous. She couldn’t find enough will to argue not after having to wake up in the middle of the night to fight an Akuma back in Paris.

She slowly changes into a red and orange ruffled one piece swimwear. She honestly just wanted to take a nap in here, hide away from the class and the well meaning questions from her friends. Instead she drags herself towards the shower, they are all open and there's someone towards the back standing underneath the spray in their bathers.

Something fires back at her to be careful, it puts her on edge but with miraculously potentially loose in Gotham city it’s no wonder her instincts are screaming at her. Instead she steps under the spray hoping to loosen up.

She doesn't, after standing there for ten minutes she still can’t relax. Maybe it’s the cold water, maybe its the other person. The were still standing there, they had been in the shower even before she entered the changing room. Marinette peaks over, they are still standing still, with their arm out… the same way they had been ten minutes ago.

“Are you ok?” Marinette calls, no answer, not even a twitch.

Marinette creeps over. They are standing stock still, she can’t see evidence of them so much as breathing.

“Hello,” Her voice echoes off the tiles, not a noise in the empty room besides from the shower running.

She is right behind them, they haven't even moved, arm still raised. She walks around to see their face. Frozen in a look of concentration, not so much as blinking with water running into their eyes. She follows their eyeline to see them peeling off dead skin from their arm, stretching towards their fingertips. There's a faint glow of yellow all around them, concentrated at their back.

Marinette steps away, walking out the showers, she closes the nearest door to find herself in the pool area. Her friends are on the other side. Kagami is dunking Adrien as Chloe waves her over. Marinette sprints over to them.

“No running!” The life guard yells.

But that doesn't matter, all that matters is that there is someone using the bee miraculous for evil, she has to stop them before they get another Hawkmoth. They probably have the whole miracle box! She'll need the back up.

“Mari-”

“Come with me,” She doesn't let them have another question helping Adrien out of the pool.

She pulls them along despite Chloe's protests, pushing them through the door.

“Mari what's-”

“Hush now Buttercup,”

“You were serious?” Adrien gasps, Chloe just giggles.

“Yes,” She walks over to the frozen body, “Look at this,”

“Whats-” Chloe pokes them, immediately recoiling, “The fuck?”

“They’re frozen,” Kagami does the same.

“We have to help them,” Adrien waves in front of their face, looking on in horror.

“We have to hide them,” Chloe pokes them again, getting slapped away by Kagami.

“We have to find the culprit,” Marinette races at the idea that this could be the Bee miraculous.

“We’ll do all three,” Kagami decides, getting their attention, “Now first let's put them in a stall so we don’t alarm anyone or the villain, then we need to look for clues,"

They all nod, Marinette turns the water off. Adrien tries to move their arm to no avail.

“Looks like we have to carry them,” Adrien suggests, he and Marinette each taking an arm.

“Ew, no I’m not touching it Buttercup!” Chloe cringes away, backing up as Kagami lifts a leg off the ground.

“Has that really stuck?” Adrien asks Marinette, as Kagami sends Chloe a powerful enough death glare to get her to help.

“You bet Buttercup,” Marinette grins, as they shuffle through the changing rooms to the toilet stalls.

“Fine then, I’m calling you Cupcake,” Adrien teases, sticking out his tongue.

“As you wish Buttercup,”

“Someone get the door,” Kagami commands.

“I will!” Chloe lets go of the leg, the body becoming no heavier.

They manage to fit them inside the stall without too much hassle.

“Who could have done this?” Adrien looks on sadly at the person, tilted at a slight angle to fit into the stall.

“I’ve been thinking,” Marinette speaks up, “If this is a villain it doesn't make much sense to attack a random person, and if they were trying to be stealthy they would have hidden the body,”

“They aren’t dead!” Adrien says aghast.

“Exactly, why wouldn’t a villain just kill them?”

“That's very dark of you Cupcake,” Kagami says, missing Adrien’s pout, “What’s your theory?”

“This is likely a new villain, one not ready to kill,” Marinette decides, not even blinking at the nickname, “They have something against the pool, they probably want to ruin its reputation,”

“You did say that this was a very safe pool for Gotham,” Chloe closes the stall door, “Minimal murders, so why would someone want to ruin it?”

“Insurance? Sick of their job?” Marinette’s eyes go wide in realisation, “The pool!”

She darts out the changing room the others close on her heels.

“No Running!”

“Where are we going!?”

“The manager said they were refilling the pool,”

“Why- oh my god,” Chloe gasps, overtaking the lot of them, “Run faster!”

They burst into another pool room, the pool noticeable empty with diving boards on the other end. They run to the edge of the pool. A frozen body wearing employee uniform frozen at the bottom the water slowly rising.

“Get them out! Get them out!”

Marinette jumps down into the pool, causing a splash, the water is up to her ankles, barely a centimeter from covering the person at the bottom. She runs over and tries to pull them up. Kagami makes a splash behind her running over to help. They drag the person, frozen in horror the yellow focused on their chest instead. The pool is far too deep to climb out of so they pass the body up to Adrien and Chloe.

“Who would do this?!” Adrien can just reach them when Marinette and Kagami lift the person over their heads.

“I heard the manager mutter about lazy employees,” Marinette gives one last push, Chloe and Adrien pull them up over the edge.

“So we have a suspect,” Kagami says, water rising up her leg, “We should check their office next,”

“Well, they went from no murder to yes murder in record time,” Chloe huffs, the employee safely to the side.

“It’s concerning, but they may have more of a grudge against them than the other person,” Marinette points Kagami towards the ladder to get out.

“More evidence towards the manager,” Kagami nods, letting her up the ladder first, “We should choose codenames if the manager is potentially familiar with us,”

“They did have the class roster,” Marinette nods along, then grins, “You should be Teacup!”

“Fine by me,” Kagami nods, not showing how happy she truly is with the nickname.

“Oh I want to be-” Chloe cuts herself off head snapping towards the door.

They hear scratching at the door, everyone tenses. Marinette crouches in a position to defend her friends. The door slowly creeps open and… a little snout pokes through followed by the rest of the dog.

“Is this what you wanted to see Cuppy?” A person wearing a lifeguard uniform follows in a second later.

“Excuse me is your dog named Cuppy?” Marinette plasters on a fake smile quickly pulling a nearby towel over the body.

“Yes it’s a weird name I know,”

“No! It’s perfect! On another note could we please borrow your dog?”

“Um... sure?”

“Thank you, we have to go! Careful the pool is empty!” She calls as they race out the room, the person tucked away out of sight, “Come on Cuppy!”

"NO RUNNING!"

The dog wags its tail following them out the pool area and through the changing rooms. They come to stand outside the staffroom door, dripping water on the carpet.

“Everyone ready?” Marinette asks, hand on the door, they nod and Cuppy lets out an 'off', the door slowly creaks open.

Marinette looks through to see, nothing, the hallway is desolate and dark.

“It’s safe,”

“You call that safe?” Adrien pokes his head through the door, followed by Chloe and Kagami.

“Be brave Buttercup be brave,” With that Chloe pushes him into the corridor.

They creep along the empty hallway, footsteps echoing around them. The manager's office door could be seen at the end of the hall. Gold color plate glinting in the few stray beams of light filtering through. Marinette could feel every hair stand on end, danger seeming to lurk from every shadow in the dark hall. The pressure of something ready to pounce and immobilise them at any moment hung heavy in the air, dragging them down into a pressure that-

“HIC!”

Everyone jumps out of their skins, Adrien actually hits the ceiling, rubbing his head on the way down. Kagami draws her sword, Marinette falls into a defensive position.

“Hic!”

“Chloe!

“I’m sorry! Hic! It’s not like I can help it! Hic,”

“Thats it! You’re Hiccup!” Kagami snaps, Marinette tries not to snort.

‘What?!” Chloe screeches stamping her foot, “No way!”

“Deal with it and lower your voices!” Marinette shouts, Cuppy barks along, “Not you too Cuppy?”

Another yip

“Traitor,”

“Cupcake stop picking fights with the dog and lets move on,” Adrien implores, still rubbing his head.

Marinette rolls her eyes speed walking to the manager's office before the tension rises again. The reach outside the door, Marinette counts down to three on her fingers and they burst through the door.

Inside is silent, the bright light blinds them for a second, she shuffles in front of her friends acting as a shield, waiting for them to adjust. When she does she sees the desk chair is turned away, Cuppy pads forward Marinette doesn't grab his collar in time.

He starts licking someone's hand, Marinette creeps around the desk, waiting for the hand to snap out and grab her. The others follow, surrounding the chair preparing to come face to face with the villain. She peeks around the edge they are sitting there, she freezes the others following her lead. A beat, another one, nothing. They’re frozen.

“It’s not the manager,” She relaxes, patting Cuppy’s head.

She lets out a sigh, releasing all her tension.

BAM

Turning around the door is slammed shut, a striped villain standing before it. They all drop into a fighting stance watching for the stinger on their right hand. Cuppy starts wagging his tail, trying to approach the villain.

“Cuppy no,” Marinette grabs his harness, bringing the Pitbull back.

“He’s my therapy dog,” The villain growls, Cuppy wagging his tail happily.

“Not a very good one is he?” Chloe sneers, looking the villain wearing her stripes up and down with disgust.

“Wait, you’re the lifeguard at the pool?” Marinette gasps, maybe she really shouldn't have run, “Why did you-”

“I work here, you can’t imagine the horrors I face every day, people are disgusting,” The villain shudders, this was the guy who stole the miracle box?

“Yes, but murder?” Kagami gets a nod from Chloe and hissed at by Adrien.

“My co workers are completely useless and the boss always yells at me,” A sinister smirk crosses their face, “Or at least they did,”

“So you thought murder before you thought quitting ,” Adrien points out, probably not the best time to imply a villain is stupid.

“I didn’t kill anyone,”

“Ah yeah thanks to us!”

“Shut up!” They lash out at Chloe, stinging her in a single strike.

“Run!” Marinette shouts, they all scatter.

Marinette dodges the first swipe, ducking down. They get distracted by Kagami lashing out. Marinette darts around them to get closer to the door, Kagami gets hit. Marinette reaches the door the villain comes after her, they are inches away. Adrien leaps in front of her, getting stung. With the distraction Marinette bursts out the door Cuppy on her heels.

“Traitor,” She sprints down the hall, “Did you know?”

Cuppy happily pants beside her. She can hear the villain banging around the corridor behind her and runs faster. She dodges into a room around the corner, hiding among the pool noodles. She sees the shadow pass under the door. Pause. She holds her breath intently watching the shadow, she has no one, not even Tikki. He heart beat rises, she can feel her breaths shorten, this is it, this is it, this is it, this is-

Something nuzzles her hand, she looks down to see Cuppy. He starts to lick her hand, letting her relax into it, focusing on him as the shadow continues on. With a sigh Marinette starts to take off her skirt, flipping it inside out to the cape side.

“You aren't going to tell anyone about this are you?” Marinette asks Cuppy, right before pulling up her mask, he lets out a happy bark, “Good boy,”

She sneaks out the room, looking up and down the clear hallway. She walks the opposite way of the office. She doesn't need to see her friends paralysed, she just needs to help them, she just needs to fix her mistake.

She reaches the pool area, hiding behind a lounge chair, watching through the slats as the villain gathers everyone together. Starling sneaks closer, Cuppy on her heels. There are several civilians, locals if their calm demeanour is anything to go by, although they do seem uneasy at an unknown villain. Her class is significantly less calm.

She had told them time and again that there was no coming back in Gotham, no miraculous cure. It seems for once they had decided to listen to her. Unfortunately they did not do well under pressure. Lila of course was aggravating the situation, making empty threats. The villain reared up to silence her and man, Marinette could relate.

“I don’t suppose I can wait a minute can I?” She whispers to Cuppy, he settle a paw on her knee, letting out a quiet whine, “I guess that’s a no,”

She runs up behind the villain, signalling the civilians to be quiet. Lila looks down at her, anger flashing over her face. Starling bears her teeth right back, she can just try it. Lila ultimately decides her life is more precious than petty revenge, a hard choice for her to be sure.

Starling stands up to her full height behind the villain tapping them on the shoulder. They turn around in surprise, to find her dazzling smile. But the real thing that makes them see stars is her right hook. As the fall Starling rips the bee miraculously right out of their hair, their transformation falling. Marinette stands above them as they detransform, Pollen hiding behind her. It makes her stomach churn watching them detransform, looking up at her with fear. The twisting of her insides lessens when Cuppy nuzzles up next to her. She busies herself with hiding the miraculous away.

“It’s them!” Lila screeches, ah now she can get to that petty revenge, “The one that kidnapped me!”

“Look what you did,” Staling bites instead, looking down at the villain.

“I had nothing to do with this!” Starling is highly entertained when Cuppy growls at Lila, actually getting her to back off.

“Sure you didn’t,” Starling openly rolls their eyes, grabbing the villain and hauling them up by their shirt, "Where is the rest!"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" She scowls, making them whimper, guess they really didn't know,

Shit

"Where did you get this?" She holds up the miraculous.

"I found it! it was just lying out on the street!"

Shit

"Did you see any others?!"

"No!" the blubber swearing by it and begging for mercy.

Shit

The police sirens can now be heard, Starling drops them and runs from the room.

“NO RUNNING!” She turns on her heel and glares down at the villain, “... sorry, it’s a reflex,”

She nods running from the room to change, grabbing her bag with Tikki and Kaalki on the way. After a small celebration at finding another miraculous and reunion with Pollen, they have to make a plan to find the other miraculous. They are cut short when sirens are heard outside. She wears the Bee miraculous under her ponytail, to keep it hidden from view.

When she is ready she goes to find her friends. They are outside talking to the police. Marinette only gets the chance to signal she’s ok before being intercepted by officers to get her statement. When she’s retold her account of trying to find the pool freezer she is finally allowed to check on her friends.

“Hey Cupcake, glad to see you missed all the fun,” Chloe teases.

“Sorry Hiccup,” Marinette looks her in the eye deadly serious grasping each shoulder, “You were an adequate shield,”

“Shut it,” Chloe pushes her away playfully.

“Teacup, Buttercup are you alright?”

“It was nothing,” Kagami assures.

“Didn’t you guys think their powers were a lot like Queen Bees?”

“You would know Hiccup,” She nudges Chloe playfully, “If it was I think we should keep that to ourselves, wouldn't want that information somehow getting back to Hawkmoth,”

She looks purposefully towards Lila, the others nod along.

“Still some random person now might have the miraculous,” Chloe glares down at the ground, “Can we really trust this Starling person,”

I mean no I'm operating on negative six hours of sleep, but also yes

“I don’t think we have much other choice,”

“Marinette,” She freezes at that familiar, low gravelly voice.

“Batman, sir,” She adds, trying to look like someone who wasn't chased down by him yesterday, “How can I help you?”

“I heard you knew the most about this villain,” How did she get in trouble for interrogating Lila when this is how he talks to civilians.

“Not really I just found someone paralysed and tried to find the culprit,” Marinette shrugs, hoping her friends wouldn't point out that she is lying to The Batman.

“You didn’t call the police,”

Well thats a good point, not that I would have

“... To be honest it absolutely did not occur to me,”

“These abilities were spontaneous and now they seem to be gone,” Batman points out, damn he already knows too much, “Do you know what caused this?”

“I do not,”

“Very well,” Batman nods turning away, “Go to your class,”

“Yes sir,” Marinette walks away far too quickly.

How was she going to search the city with that hunting her down?!

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

Taglist

@smolplantmum @flufflepuffle296 @dawnwave16 @caffeinetheory @g-arya @Maribat-2k20 @ladybug-182 @Actual-disaster-human @fusser90 @messrs-weasley @soap-lady @paintedhope7 @zeneralla @mochegato @random-nerd-3 @clumsy-owl-4178 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @too0bsessedformyowngood @certifiedbidisaster @Purplegeekypanda @awkward0ghostfan @theymakeupfairies @tikki-marinette @insane-fangirl-of-everything @elmokingkong @inarachi02 @slytherinhquinn @moongoddesskiana @dast218 @buginetye @redscarlet95 @biodad-bruce-month @hansa-12 @waiting247 @toodaloo-kangaroo @how-to-fuction-properly @trippingovermyfeet @greekmythgal @whatthefox22 @the-alice-of-hearts @bigpicklebananatree @indecisive-mess-named-me @nalu-ismyjam @deepestobservationwombat

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firelonewolf · 4 years

Text

Hopelessly Bound

Summary: gaining the key to intimacy with Homelander is still going on. But more problems arise while you try to achieve the final goal.

Pairing: Homelander x CIA!Supe!Reader

Sequel to: Barrier

A/N: @darkmalice00 is the one to thank for this second part! I tried my hardest to get it to match the first one. Hope you like it!

Pushing your back against a couch you smelt the sweet smell of black tea with lemon juice. You only added a little bit of sugar, but it mostly had citric acid in it. Candle scented vanilla cookies took the place it was soothing, reminded you of being at grandma's. Heavy footsteps came before Mallory took a seat across from you. Stiring up her tea before sitting back and taking a sip. "Mission report," she commands to you. Taking sip of the naturally sweetened black tea you sat it down.

Inhaling before handing your hand out to her. She takes it with her slightly warm hands touching your upper arm. You shut your eyes and began to show everything. Relationships developed, what you saw in Homelander's mind, what you've heard. Everything centered around Vought.

But the hard part of memory sharing was the showing your mind walk. Mind walking hurt but combining it with memory share hurt even more. Flashes of the entire thing was taking energy out of you. At the final scene of it of Homelander submitting you pulled away. Gripping your head at the use of two powers at once, and yelped feeling blood tickle down your nose again.

Grace touched her head feeling half drained from that. "My goodness, I don't know how you can do it" she comments to you. Before pushing yourself back and wiping your nose. "My head throbbing at that. Do you want some aspirin?" She inquires to you heading over to get some. You shook your head at that. "Sometimes I forget how powerful you are. I've never met anyone with your abilities." She comments taking out the pills and popping two in.

Than sighed enduring your throbbing head. Felt like someone was squeezing it from the inside to the outside. It sucks for how much it hurts. "I usually drink a bit before it. Most of time I have some tequila beforehand. Numbs the pain, but I thought I could handle it without it." You remark with a sigh bringing your feet on to the couch and gazing down than felt a yawn.

Mallory sits back down doing the same. Sort of weird seeing her not in suits. Ever since her retirement things she switched from her suits to more comfortable clothes. Especially since she's been bird watching. "Good job, (Y/N), you gained access to his trust. Can you estimate when you can have the mind link with him?" She inquires taking a sip of her tea.

"Perhaps in a few weeks," you remark back.

"Good, I'll notify Butcher of the progress." She replies back to you. Boy, was this entire situation messy and like walking on egg shells. Mallory notices you face before sitting more forward at you. "This we've been waiting for. The official mission, I need you to remember (Y/L/N) you can't let them defeat you. You have a big heart, a good one. But I need you to remember, Homelander is a murder. You're helping the world by helping us take down this monster. Okay?" She inquires to you. Silently you nod at this. You had to remember this, and live by each of these words.

___

Bonding with Homelander was hard. It start out as simple things. Small talk evolved to more things. Than it evolved to joking and endless smiles. Than it just turned into an actual friendship sort of bond. Things were transforming rapidly at it was easier to access things with him, but harder. A sense of guilt sometimes overtook you at this entire scheme.

Each time you had to yell at yourself, he is a monster. Lab experiment that escaped, it still doesn't justify what he's damaged. How could it? People have died from his selfishness. None of his issues can excuse what hes become. He had a choice, and made it.

But soon enough it became different at the same time. Lingering long glances than that one time you said goodbye, sure it was a static shock but you felt it physically when you both realized your hands were stuck. But you couldn't let these advances affect you. Denying them was refusing the forbidden fruit and you knew that. Your like a black widow, but less epic, and didn't kill your spouse.

Your CIA training was rough, especially from your test. Thay made sure to throw anything rough at you, they made sure to give you the hardheaded attitude to withstand everything. They expected more from you because of the abilities, even going as far as to making you learn how to escape from a lot of things. The CIA and Mallory considered you climbing the ranks as soon as you graduated the academies. Your abitlies aided and they actually considered you intelligent in your very own way. Your scores with CIA test amazed them each time, and especially the physical test. A test with your power they had you create a mental link. Like always, they were blown away when you managed to do it successfully. Than came your first mind walk experience with a classified psychopath.

It was recorded, but what ended up happening you panicked. From all the darkness and the entirety of the fact inside of their head was a cyclone. But what they wanted you was to calm the psycho down for another case. You managed, but not without screeching like a banshee your head off and making the psycho as well. You ended up somehow breaking all the glass in a proximity.

Not that you had a sonic scream, no one had an explanation of what happened. Neither did you, but it happened and that was it. Binding almost made you rise to that level multiple times. You've only had that happened once, and it almost tore your entire vocals, ruining them. That would've made you voiceless, Mallory said once they would've codenamed you as Hush or something that meant voiceless. But little did you know it came to today.

Like any day, the Seven were out on a mission. Leaving you to do your normal task which meant digging for information. Until you saw from a nearby window people scrambling out of the place. Immediately your heart almost dropped to a deadly point, a cold sweat overtook you. Sprinting to the camera room, you saw lying on one of the floors was a the dead security. "Shit!" You hissed to yourself. Tapping your fingers rapidly you began to search through the cameras. Your eyes landed on a shooter. Everyone was either escaping or hiding. Until you spotted three hostages, "double shit." You hissed and began to search for any weapon. Outside of the office your eyes landed on a fire axe. "Screw my life apparently," you growled before taking it out.

Sprinting down multiple flights of stairs didn't make you break a sweat. CIA almost make you run until you vomit and keep going. Stealthy you began to make your way where you last saw the hostages. The Seven weren't here, and not everyone had the guts to fight. But you could rescue these civilians from a sick person despite them work for them.

But this reminded of you of one mission on a plane. Three of your teams were hostages, and you and another had to save them. But that missioned ended with you falling in the ocean, you were saved though by someone. But when they found you were halfway dead.

Not this time though. You planned on making it out alive and not near death. But fate wasn't the kindest person out there, was it? Than came where the Seven were done with there job, but to there surprised by Ashley, Vought International was under attack. Some crazed shooter blaming Vought came. Than came the recent call of them alerting you were fighting the shooter.

Somehow a screech of the person was muffled in the background. The minute they all heard your name, they all felt the world stop for a moment. Compared to Homelander, he felt the universe freeze for a brief moment. You were a fighter. But apparently the most selfless person in that place. And you were close to death.

Entirety of the whole situation changed in that exact moment. But everything turned inaudible as she talked about how Stillwell fine and most employees are okay, but that didn't matter. You were endanger and yet still decided to face it to save others instead yourself. As he began to march away he ignored how everyone began to pasture questions at him.

He ignored all of them before blasting off in the air. When he got closet enough to hear a screech of pain to where he felt a force launch him back somewhat. Glass broke on three different floors broke into billions of pieces. Landing in the moment he saw a bullet blasted in your left ribcage.

Weakly with blood pouring on your shirt you stumbled in shock before collapsing. On your face was blood pouring out like a river. Sweat and bags forming on your eyes. With your ears ringing from the damage you've caused with the mind walk, you lied defeated. The shooter cried than spotted Homelander who was in pure furious. What was scarier was the point he was thinking of nothing.

As if he was replaying the whole thing is his mind silently or was acting on wrath. In a millisecond you saw him take the throat of the shooter in his hand, and than laser eyes out. You saw the red beams break through the back of the guy's skull.

For a monster, he was very emotional. Drowsy greeted you, you wanted to shut your eyes in the brief moment. Homelander rushed over in a blink of an eye. For a moment you felt a sharp heat above the wound, as you passed out.

___

Paralyzed for a moment you felt awake. Were you in your astral projection form? Than forced yourself to shit, you felt weight. Nope, you were in your body still. Opening your eyes you forced yourself up. Around you was a four walled hospital room. With a bathroom on the side of it with a counter. You thought you were alone, than saw Homelander. Passed out on a chair by it. What time was it?

Seeing your clothes on a chair next to you, you felt almost stiff while starting to wake up your entire body. Grabbing your phone you turned the screen on, than saw it was nearly 6:30 and its been a day and a half. Than placed it back down to glance back at Homelander. He stayed? On a separate table on the other side was flowers.

Than a shark plush, immediately you smirked to yourself, that was the Deep's gift. So distinct compare to everyone else. Well, except Noirs. He put a card and a green tea latte mix with a new mug. Than Starlight's popped out, it was a cute card with a cartoon! But your gaze went back to the unconcious Homelander.

He stayed? Why? Did he actually care? Was he on to you? Was saving you for his benefit to find out who you actually were? Would he kill you after saving you? Or did he figure it out and plan on punishing you by forcing something out of you?

Debating within yourself you had to wonder. Did he genuinely care for you at this point? Was he more human now? As much as you wondered, you came to a conclusion. Both of you were the same at the end of the day. Lost, and eternally dark inside and hiding in the shadows. Difference was that you weren't a sociopath, you were just afraid of yourself and tried to do right.

Were you mad? Insane for caring and sympathizing with a sociopath? Why did you have to feel this way? Part of you wanted to shout for help to save you from loving a monster, but the other half felt scared for him. Could you save him? Could you actually save him from himself before it kills him?

All these raced before you. Than snapped at the sudden voice you heard. Your hair swayed as your head turned to the right. Part of it in your face at the sudden awaked Homelander. "Your awake" he yawned sitting himself up and stretching. "Its been a day and half. They took the bullet out. You surgery didn't take long thankfully, I was worried."

The last part made your heart swell. Why? You wanted to claw yourself apart, why was this happening? You were sinking down to him. This a disaster, and you liked it. Felt like a rush of adrenaline and freeing. You couldn't have whatever this is with him. You've never wanted something so bad, and you hated it. "You stayed here for me?"

His blue eyes flickered to you, your heart felt slightly warmed. "Yeah, I did." He said lowly to you sort of inching closer. This felt like magic. Why did it have to?

"Why?" You inquired awaiting his answer. You didn't use telepathy to hear his thoughts. You listened to his voice instead of his head.

He paused for a moment peering down at his hand before his gaze switched to you. "Because I was terrified." He states, for a moment you searched for a lie. But you couldn't help but feel yourself leaning in. "I was... scared for you."

"I'm okay now, no need to worry anymore." Warm, you felt a warm compare to his cold touch of his lips. He was so cool, you couldn't help passionately kiss him. Felt like magnets, magnetism of a force pulling you together. You loved how it felt as if water and fire came together.

Different forces of nature that are oil and water. And you loved it, just like how you felt with him at the moment. Not that it wasn't meant to be, well it sort of was. But you were seeing a different side of him from the cameras and the Boys. This humanity was hidden in him, no matter how much he tried to kill it. Brief moments he embraced it, and it was a different energy that was intoxicating. It was poison.

His venom was like a drug. But you wanted to escape the high but wanted to enjoy it. You couldn't help it though, as your heart swelled of how he made you feel. How he genuinely cared for you like a normal person. Half of you hissed how he wasn't normal though.

At that realization you wanted to cry, but refused the emotion. Hearing him laugh made you laugh in the moment as well, before kissing him again. This emotion inside of you that yearned for him was so addicting. Taking his upper arm to pull him closer, than felt a tether almost force.

Tether that was so tough like fiber strength. In that moment you blinked to feel a cool breeze than blinked your eyes open. In the moment you felt Homelander arm still in your grip. Than noticed the attire changed for both of you. Both of you pulled apart to see your world before.

On a cliff of bright green grass with mountain flowers everywhere. Sunshine that radiated warm all around. It was comforting but abive you was a lilac trees bloomed purple flowers. Pedals hitting you on your head. Near it down the cliff was a heliotropes. Both of you glanced around the place realizing where you were. "What the?" You hear Homelander say. "Where are we? Can you teleport?"

You shook your head at pure shellshock of what was happening. "I can mind walk.." you say lowly. "Mind walk, I think both of our minds clashed together. This has never happened..." you state. As he pulled from you than you saw.

He wore a black version of his suit with only white on it somewhat. Than you had a white sundress with red floral prints on it. "Its beautiful here..." he responds turning to you. Warmly you smiled surprised of how he was taking it. "Your mind alerting," he comments. Electricity was in his eyes perhaps from the intensity of both of your emotions? "Your incredible" he says pulling you back into one. Before feeling heart in a sharp pain the moment. For something that feels so right, it so painful, why? "I think I love you." John says in that moment pressing his temple against yours. Light tears came down your face that he didn't notice.

Sucking in a breath to gain to courage. Despite feeling all the butterflies in your stomach. "I think I love you too." You remark in a whisper.

___

Marching to Mallory's place after you were discharged from the hospital was so emotional for you. Crying you explained to her the entire situation. You showed her through your memory of everything. How he saved you, how he stayed by you. How he submitted to you. She congratulated on the mission complete on mind linking, now you have a official bond with Homelander. But to her shock, it deeper now that your both in love. You wasted no time quitting, and packing everything in your apartment. Luckily there wasn't much.

Your new mission was here. Stay with Billy Butcher and help them take the supes down. Much to how your heart ached at how you had to disappear from the face of the Earth. Despite only have Starlight left of the Seven no matter how much you'll miss the rest. They were broken people, in a broken place. Mainly Homelander.

Mallory cooked up a excuse to leave, one without you having to die. As you unpacked a couple of your things in a pair of a red wine colored tank top with a pair of black cargo pants. Billy sat on his couch contemplating why Mallory commanded him to let you stay with him. He pastured you with questions before the entire thing.

Yet you and Mallory agreed not to tell him why the mission was complete and what happened in between. Butcher would kill you, you had to keep it a secret. His thoughts were so loud compare to him vocally. Submitting and telling him the truth was hard, but you have to hide it from him.

Much to his dismay of knowing there was more to it than just a simple mission complete. But as you unpacked you couldn't help but have your heartache at thought of John. How he kissed you, how you felt. Like fine wine, it felt great but you knew you shouldn't. Scrubbing off your mind from him won't happen. Running away won't fully work without you yearning for him still.

Out running him wasn't possible either. His face was everywhere. Time to stop thinking about going backwards. You pulled out a silver necklace that was small. Middle of the small knot with a "J" in the center of it. No matter how much you were in love with him it was doomed. Doomed love that was hopelessly bound to happen. Allowing this disaster to happen was stupid, but too late to fix. No matter how much you felt in love with him. Like Butcher would say, if he did know, don't be a lovesick cunt.

"Do you want to get a drink later at the pub later? Watch one of the games?" He inquires to you as you hide the necklace again. Than hold a book in your hand.

"Yeah, that'll be nice after dealing with those supes" you remark with a light laugh. He returned to back to you. Ignore the forbidden fruit, now matter how you like the feeling of being in love. No choice but to move forward until all of this is finally done.

#the boys amazon #homelander #the boys #homelander x reader #billy butcher #frenchie #mothers milk #the boys season 2 #black noir #antony starr #starlight x hughie #starlight #x reader #queen maeve x elena #queen maeve x reader #a train

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raitrolling · 3 years

Text

Calm, After the Storm

[Easy Reading Version on Toyhou.se]

The clean-up for Vernrot Harbour had been slower going than Lusien expected. There was no structural damage to the town, no residents had been harmed as far as he was aware of, and the organisation that’d moved in to defeat the ‘threat’ were able to manage the situation quite cleanly. He had numerous encounters with members of Gaia since the incident: first on the night of the event when he was prevented from getting anywhere close to the shoreline, no matter how many times he insisted he knew the person causing all the trouble; again the night after when a member of the hospital wing knocked on his door to check him for signs of eldritch mental corruption, due to his close contact with a horrorterror (supposedly the results were normal… For this town’s standards); and then at least once a night after that as more people were brought in for clean-up duty.

The clean-up duty, of course, being restoring the balance between the numerous other entities inhabiting the town.

Lusien has always been familiar with the supernatural, and this familiarity has made him attuned to the state of the town. Those Who Slumber In The Deep are placid for a collective of horrorterrors living in the depths of Vernrot Harbour’s, well, harbour. Their influence is subtle, altering the weather patterns to their liking, and infecting the minds of the residents as the eldritch are wont to do. Some are more susceptible to their influence, typically those who live closer to their abode or spend much longer in the ocean than the average troll. But only he, gifted with the power to see the unseen and comprehend the incomprehensible, are aware of just what they’re doing to the residents. The scientist who lives by the shoreline doesn’t know why he feels lonely when he is unable to hear the whispers in the back of his mind, the author further towards the centre of town doesn’t think about why they’re always so drawn to the ocean whenever they feel troubled. And Lusien cannot tell them, the horrorterrors don’t allow them to believe him.

It is the other entities that are of most concern. The shadow beings were more restless than usual, and their home invasions became more frequent. The spirits residing in the lighthouse required more favours to pacify, feeling extra capricious out of spite for their ‘territory’ being infringed upon. Mostly they just required food or a small sacrifice, and while Lusien didn’t enjoy whenever they sought out something more from him, he was still compelled to carry out their wishes. Every other supernatural being that made their home in the town had their own sets of rules to follow, an invisible checklist of tasks and favours that once completed will make them consider not acting out again for an unspecified amount of time. No one else in the town was aware of their existence, and thus it became Lusien’s duty to tend to each and every one of their needs for the sake of the livelihoods of others. No one but him would notice if a resident was spirited away to another realm or possessed by a cranky entity who was rudely awoken by the songs of The Choir, and no one would be grateful for his efforts, but he still felt it was important to help them.

The staff at Gaia had been more than helpful. The trolls they sent were all well-equipped to handle the supernatural in a non-violent manner, although Lusien would often be called over to guide them through the more unpredictable whims of the entities. “Look for the blueblood with the starry eye” became a phrase often spoken by members of the organisation, and it was not uncommon for someone to come running over to the lighthouse to seek him out for an emergency. He would ask about what happened to Thri- The horrorterror they captured that caused all of this, but no one had an answer for him. They probably wouldn’t have an answer if he used his actual name either, given their tendency for codenames and classifications. The best he’d heard is that ‘the creature’ had returned to its troll form, and was currently detained. Lusien didn’t particularly enjoy the way they spoke of his friend, but he’d given up on correcting every single person he asked.

He was at the pier again, fishing up some more flounders to harvest their skeletons for a ritual as his nightly routine had been for the past couple of nights, when he heard the sound of heeled boots stomping on the wooden boardwalk approaching him.

“Ugh… No one told me there were gonna be some fucked up toads here.”

Lusien turned to face the Gaia employee whining about the wildlife they must have come across, a tall indigblood wearing a white, slightly-translucent coat. They had a company umbrella in their hand that was most likely issued to them as part of their excursion to the rainy town, and they’d pulled up the hood of their coat over their head for extra protection against the wet weather. Through their scrunched-up expression of disgust, Lusien had noticed their eyes were rather striking: He’d never seen heterochromia as intense as their pale purple and reddish-pink eyes. Before he can make a comment about how the ‘toad’ they mentioned was most likely a mutated variation of the juvenile fishmen that plague the waters of the harbour, they’re quick to continue.

“You’re Lusien, right? The guy everyone’s been going on about?” There’s a nice, casual tone to their voice, which contrasts greatly against the horrendous vibes Lusien can see latching onto them. They’ve been deeply tainted by something he cannot quite figure out, but just like all the other residents of this town they seem completely unbothered by it.

He nods in response to their question, and cannot help but wonder if they’re genuinely unaware of whatever magical influence has poisoned their mind or if they’re simply choosing to ignore it. They smile, in a way that makes Lusien’s hypothesis favour towards the latter.

“Pog. Yeah so I’m guessing you’re used to us coming up to you to give progress reports on the state of the town, but I got nothing. The reports I’ve been getting seem to suggest it’s getting better, so we’ll be outta here in a couple nights once we’re certain it’s all back to your usual level of fucked up.” They shrug. “If it was still out of control, I wouldn’t be here. I’m like a canary in a mineshaft, I’m not assigning myself to check out certain towns if there’s a risk of Shitbrains Syndrome. I already got enough of that.”

Yep, definitely aware of it but choosing to ignore it. Somehow even more off-putting than if they were just as clueless as the residents of the town. Despite feeling disconcerted, Lusien nods again. He’s always polite, no matter how disturbing his conversational partner may be.

“Okay. Thank you for the update.” It wasn’t his place to pry into anything else they had implied, and they probably appreciate that. It’s hard to get a read on what they’re thinking.

“Oh yeah, also. Update from the Starfish himself. I’m not a messenger but he’d probs appreciate it if I told you this-”

Lusien’s ears twitch at the mention of the ‘starfish’. He thinks he recalls Thrixe once mentioning his lusus, in a conversation a long time ago about stargazing.

“He’s like, legit crushed about the whole horrorterror thing. He asked a couple times if you were alright, but psychological records are confidential and all that so I just told him yeah. Don’t really blame him that much about being kinda emo about the whole ordeal. And no one really wanted to give him any updates cuz, y’know, that’s a wholeass horrorterror we got locked up, but I knew the guy already so it kinda became my job to deliver the goods. I didn’t even get a bonus added to my pay for that...” They mutter that last part as they look away, glancing down towards the shoreline where Thrixe turned. “Anyway. I’m sure he’d probs wanna tell you to your face if the town’s ever gonna want him back here, but. Just thought you should know.”

For the first time in nights, Lusien felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. That feeling of relief with almost as much intensity to that of whenever he sees Anirus’ ship float into the harbour. He was okay. Thrixe was okay.

“I’m glad to hear that.” The blueblood smiles. “And thank you for being so kind to him.”

The indigoblood was right. It probably won’t be likely that Thrixe would be able to return here for a long time given the whims of the entities, but Lusien would look forward to that night, whenever it may be.

#drabble #lusien avalon #glasya elliss #with brief mentions of #vallis reyleh #celise shoket #had this idea floating in my head for a while now and decided Fuck It. lets write it out

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kareofbears · 4 years

Text

desperate as that sounds

Five times Ryuji ran for Akira (and one time he ran for himself.)

—

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

It’s 4:45 am with the weather sitting at a brutal -3 degrees when Ryuji really starts wishing that he brought another jacket.

People are lined around Akihabara by the hundreds outside of closed electronic stores, and the sun has yet to even rise. Some people are yawning, some are clutching their rapidly cooling coffee in a death grip, and most have dark, purple bags underneath their eyes—proof of the battle scars that they’ve acquired. Every person here had the same goal in mind: To get what they need and get out as quick as possible.

As it turns out, if everyone has that same mindset, it creates the violent, yearly November tradition that is Black Friday.

Glancing around, he notices that people came in packs, teams. Teenagers and pre-pubescent kids are all scuffling around, hyping themselves up and creating strategies for the war to come. The more seasoned veterans of the yearly massacre came in pairs—the smaller the group, the faster you move, the move land you cover.

At the biggest electronic store in a region that’s already been nicknamed ‘Electronic Town,’ he is fourth in line—an impressive feat, especially for a first-timer. But it came with a heavy toll: he is completely and utterly alone.

”Skull, do you read me?”

Well, physically alone, anyway.

“Loud and clear,” he replies, readjusting the mic in his ear. “Not that I mind, but what’s with the codenames?”

Futaba scoffs. “You think Black Friday is just about the physical aspect? Foolish boy—the psychological aspects are half the battle. If I get you into the mindset that we’re in a Palace, then you’ll get into infiltration mode, and you’ll be OP compared to the nerds out there.”

“Ooo, I like it! Your brain is effin’ galaxy sized!”

“I do what I can for my faithful pack mule.”

“I’ll try not to take that personally.”

His deal with Futaba had been a simple one. She helps Ryuji navigate the horrors of Akihabara during Black Friday in exchange that he acts as what is essentially a drug trafficker sans the drugs. Despite her rigorous societal training she’d undergone with the Thieves, something about entering a borderline stampede still seems somewhat unappealing to her. Besides, he doesn’t mind. He’d always wanted to do something nice for Futaba anyway, and the store that has her computer thing is the same store that holds what he needs.

”Five minutes to go,” her voice crackles into his ear. ”Infiltration route—go!”

Their deal had also come in with an intense tutorial session that ended up lasting until one in the morning. “Floor 4, down 3 aisles, 8 steps in, turn right, second shelf, grab a box that says ‘GTX graphics card.’ Pink, if possible.”

“A+, Skull! You know, if you can memorize that, I seriously don’t get why you’re failing English verbs.”

“Please, this is actually important.”

Futaba cackles. “Now you’re speaking my language. With your legs and my navigation, this’ll basically be a Tuesday afternoon in Leblanc.”

People around him are starting to straighten up, some going as far as to remove the extra layer of clothing and shoving it in backpacks for maximum speed and minimum restrictions. “Damn, people here look more intense than some dudes in my track meets.”

“If you’re throwing out portable chargers with 30-hour battery life for only 800 yen, you’d be a little intense too.”

Ryuji scoffs and begins to stretch, being extra sure to get his right thigh. “I’m plenty intense. Just last Saturday, I almost beat the Big Bang Burger challenge.”

“Pretty sure Akira beat that on his second week in Tokyo. You know, you still haven’t told me why you’re bothering with this whole Black Friday mess. I didn’t peg you for an electronics type of guy, and your phone is as crappy as your posture.”

“Rude! But I can’t argue with that.” He starts to run in place, and for a brief second, he wonders if he should’ve packed a protein shake.

“Well, too late now. If your thing sells out because you didn’t want to give your Navi information, that’s on you.”

“Gimme some credit, Futaba,” an employee who looks equal parts sleep-deprived and terrified approaches the glass doors. “Ain’t no way in hell I’m failing either of us this morning.”

The glass slides open, and as if sunlight was released from the captivity of the clouds, or perhaps a meteor just broke through the earth’s atmosphere, the people start pushing, shoving, and flooding inside. The crowd looked both impenetrable and unwavering; an unstoppable force and an immovable object rolled into one giant stream of desperate shoppers.

Ryuji spares a split-second to crack his neck. Mission Start.

The moment he breaks through the initial threshold, people who were only one step behind him suddenly became ten, twenty, thirty. Weaving through crowds and aisles with the precision of a seamstress, Ryuji evades it all with ease.

”Skull, status report.”

“Smooth sailing, Oracle!” He ducks as an overly buff businessman turns around with a 3-metre pole used for studio lighting threatens to bash his head in. “You’re totally right about the codenames, by the way. It’s almost like I’ve got Captain with me.”

“Right?” She laughs. “It’s all about the mindset.”

Ryuji turns, and finally gets to the stairs—the most brutal section and the biggest gamble. It’s the reason why it was essential that he’s one of the first in line. Once the stairs get jammed with people, it’s game over. Making a mad dash up four flights of stars, he thanks any God that may be that Palaces are fantastic for rehab.

He makes it to the top, panting. It’s empty, save for a few nervous-looking employees. He hopes the smile he throws their way came off as ‘pleasant and grateful for their service’ rather than ‘a delinquent asshole who might steal loads of shit.’

“Down 3 aisles, 8 steps,” he mutters to himself as he quickly scans the fourth floor. “Turn right, second shelf,” eyes landing on his target, he grins. “I effin’ rock.”

”You got it?”

“Of course I did!” He fist pumps before swiping the box. In his excitement, he nearly runs over to give a random employee a high-five. “Alright Oracle, you’re up.”

”I love you so much in a non-weird way. Okay,” he hears the clacking of keys on the other side of the mic. “What do you need?”

“Two words: game console.”

The clacking stops. “You’re joking.”

Ryuji snorts. “I ain’t waking up at 3 in the morning for a joke.”

”Those are hard enough to get as is, and on a day like this—”

“So you can’t do it?”

In the same way every one of the thieves know they could bait Ryuji with a few choice words, it’s a lesser-known fact that Futaba is quite nearly as bad when it comes to open defiance. “Jerk. Of course I can.”

“Then let’s do it!”

“Ugh, fine!” The clacking resumes, more vigorously. “Yikes, only 3 left. Make it quick!”

“Got it,” he replies. He turns around and his stomach drops as he sees people rushing in. “What floor?”

“Third.”

Ryuji groans. The stairs, with people packed in like sardines, are a circus. It would take at least two minutes to try and go down a single flight of stairs. The elevator is even worse, and he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it had already started to malfunction. Only one choice, then.

He takes a deep breath. “Pray for me.”

”Godspeed, soldier.”

Ryuji, like a wild animal on the loose in the streets of Tokyo, jumps on the handrails and begins his descent that way, begging to the skies that he doesn’t slip and create a domino effect that knocks down a dozen people.

In thirty seconds flat (with no small amount of cursing from both the customers and himself) he jumps off and lands (tumbles) onto the third floor, grinning triumphantly. Eat your heart out, Sumire.

“Oracle, I’m here. Almost broke my ankles. Where to?”

”Straight ahead,” she replies. ”Only one left, though. Better make it quick.”

His eyes land on the last game console, and he sees someone making their way towards it. “Not a problem.”

Ryuji sprints.

Throwing every societal rule and common courtesy into the air, he makes a mad dash and, somehow, miraculously does not bump into anyone or knock down any huge shelves.

In approximately 3 seconds, he grabs his treasure and yells a very loud but completely genuine “sorry!” over his shoulder as he half runs back to the stairs, face red for multiple reasons.

Delving back into the sea of the crowd, trying to navigate himself to the cash register, he sighs. “I’m going to hell.”

”Mission success, then?”

“I had to steal it from some guy! I feel so bad. What if he’s like, buying it for his long lost son or something?”

”Whatever! That’s just part of the Black Friday spirit. Congrats! At least you finally got a game console.”

“Huh? Oh, I already had one.”

Static crinkles in his ear, before, ”WHAT!?”

“Ow! Don’t yell!”

”You already had one and you still did this shopping run?”

“Yeah…?”

”Why?! Are you gonna sell it? Are you one of those sleazy men who take advantage of the good will of gamers, Sakamoto?”

“Hell no!”

”So—“

“Oops, almost at the front of the cash register. I’ll drop off the goods at Akira’s. Talk to you later, shortie.”

Click.

”Wha— Hey! Ryuji!” Silence. “Ugh!”

————

After a much-deserved nap, Futaba climbs up the stairs to Akira’s attic.

“The star has arrived!” she says in lieu of a greeting. “Where’s Ryuji?”

“He left,” Akira answers. He’s looking at something on his worktable. “Your stuff is on the bed.”

Futaba whoops and snatches up the little plastic bag. Peering inside, she sees an adorable GTX hot pink graphics card, and a note. In a horrific scrawl, it writes: dont tell him plz ;)))

She looks up quizzically when her eyes land on Akira’s desk: A shiny new game console.

“Um…”

“Hmm?” he looks up. “Oh, Ryuji dropped it off. Said his mom won it at work, and since he already had one, he gave it to me. Nice, right?”

She opens her mouth, before closing it with a clack. Just two weeks ago, Ryuji had asked Akira in the group chat if they could play video games at his place. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget about Akira’s situation: false accusation, an attic for a room, no definitive meals, not even a proper bathroom in the building, but Akira plays it off like it’s easy. He answered by making a joke that he’s too poor for something like that when you can buy faux battle axes and realistic shotguns instead. Everyone had forgotten about that interaction.

But apparently, Ryuji hadn’t.

He’s an idiot, Futaba thinks. To which boy she’s referring to, she’s not sure.

“Yeah,” is what she says instead. “It’s nice.”

====

The dust motes flying around the attic of Leblanc are lovely. Swirling in senseless formations, floating through the still air like snow. The way none of them collide with each other, as if they have some sort of motion detector that tells them to move out of the way. It’s pleasing to look at.

It’s a shame Ryuji doesn’t give a single shit about them at this moment.

He’s sitting on Akira’s bed, back pressed against the window sill with his hair tipped up, staring unfocused at the wooden beams, eyes glazed over. He’s been like this for the better part of the day, and now the evening is slipping by him. Time continues ticking on like a rigged bomb; an ongoing reminder of how many seconds he’s losing, and how much more he can lose.

He’s considered moving. To walk around the room, shift the dust that’s surely settled on him. Getting up, stretching his legs, outwardly expelling some of his trapped, balled up energy is a good idea. Healthy, even, if those shitty YouTube videos he’s watched on his phone about anger management were on to something. But he can’t. He shouldn’t.

Amidst all the uncertainty and the wound-up anxiety that has currently made permanent residence deep inside his core, he knows that if lets his joints unlock, he’s going to fucking lose it.

Slam a fist inside the dry wood, tear up a blanket, throw the adorable ramen bowl he gave Akira against the wall until it shatters into a hundred pieces. He’s so terrified of ruining this room that he won’t even give himself the option. And Ryuji would rather let hell freeze over than scare Futaba again in his fit of fucked-up rage that comes with the package that is Sakamoto Ryuji.

So he’s stuck on the bed for God knows how long.

Footsteps come up, and he doesn’t need to look down to know who’s going to chew him out. If it’s not Akira that’s going to chide him out of his stupor (which it isn’t, even though Ryuji would do anything if it means that Akira’s back here with them), then they’d send in someone who’d drag him out of it with her nails perfectly manicured.

“You look terrible.”

“Screw off,” Ryuji spits automatically, and he cringes inwardly. Ann doesn’t deserve the sharp end of his horrible mood. It’s not her fault that it feels like his insides feel like they’re trying to eat their way out.

She ignores him and moves to hop on top of the old work desk. The wood creaks underneath her. “You’ve been here all day.”

“I know.”

“Did you sleep last night?”

“Yes. No.” He feels Ann’s stare burn into the side of his face—a ghost of Carmen’s presence. “I don’t know.”

“He wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

Irritation swells in him. She’s never learned to take a hint in her life. “Really? Are you seriously saying that?”

“Are you saying he would?”

“I’m saying he’s too busy having the living shit beat out of him to see me like this.”

His body twitches, and that’s all he needed for his resolve to break down. He jumps from the bed, feet landing heavily enough that he’s sure they can all hear him from the floor below. Unconsciously, his feet pace around the small room; quick with agitation but heavy with dread. Anything to distract from doing something stupid.

“You’re worried about me, what, not sleeping? For lying down on this damn bed for too long? Screw that. Akira’s being grilled like cheap meat for the past couple of days and you’re expecting me to act normal about it? That’s bullshit.”

Bad. This is bad. His fingers are already curling in his fists, eager and all too willing to be used. He settles for balling the edge of his shirt instead.

“He isn’t here. That’s the fact, isn’t it? And what the fuck am I doing about it? Freaking out? Trying not to throw a tantrum about it like some kind of stupid kid? Am I really this messed in the head that everyone on the team is—-is hiding from me like I’m some kind of—” he cuts himself off.

Delinquent.

Ryuji takes a deep breath, fully inhaling and slowly exhaling. He focuses on the dust motes again. In and out. Countdown from ten. He can do this. He can get a grip on himself. Thank God it was Ann that came up—if it had been anyone else, he doesn’t think he can put his pride aside as easily. (Unless it was Futaba. God, he loves her so much.)

For a while, it was silent except for his breathing; it stuttered occasionally, but eventually it evens out. Ann only watches from her perch.

When he feels stable enough, Ryuji drops to sit on the hardwood.

“Okay?” she asks. Ann never babies him when he gets like this—she’s good that way.

“Okay.” And he really is. Not completely, of course not. His nerves weren’t strung as tight, but he still feels a heavy weight right in his stomach.

She hops off the desk and goes to sit in front of him on the floor. Crossing her legs, Ann waits. They regard each other for a long minute.

“He’s the toughest guy I’ve ever met,” he says. It feels weird saying this out loud, instead of repeating the mantra in his head like a broken record. “If anyone can handle this, it’s Akira.”

She rolls her eyes. “Duh.”

“He’s going to be okay.”

“I know that.”

“Sooner than later, his dumb ass is going to be walking through the door downstairs.”

“You bet he is.”

“And I get to yell at him as much as I want.”

“Get in line.”

“I’m not going to lose him tonight.”

Ann reaches over—slowly, giving him plenty of room to shift away—and places a hand on his knee. “You’re not going to lose him tonight.”

Ryuji laughs, a little breathy but still genuine. He prods at her hand. “When’d you get so good with me, Takamaki?”

“I do the Lord’s work around here, free of charge.” She grins, before her tone drops again. “Can you do something for me, though?”

“Lay it on me.”

Ann pulls back and leans on a propped hand, her blue eyes piercing. “When Akira comes back, and he will—”

“And he will. No doubt about it.”

“Obviously. He’s the best person for this. But when Akira comes back, he’s…” Ann gnaws on the inside of her cheek. “He’s not going to be okay, Ryuji.”

Somewhere in his mind, he already knew what she was going to say. While the biggest of his worries is that he’d never see Akira walk through the doors of Leblanc again, there was a quieter fear. A very specific fear, one that Ryuji knows all too well. Because stories don’t just end at the climax of a single event—they keep going. It’s the fear of what happens once he does see Akira.

The aftermath.

The bell chimes downstairs.

His heart lurches, and he makes the briefest of eye contact with Ann before he’s gone.

He’s the toughest guy I’ve ever met.

It’s like his feet have a mind of their own.

If anyone can handle this, it’s Akira.

In an instant, he’s scrambling towards the stairs on all fours before pushing himself up.

Sooner than later, his dumbass is going to be walking through the door downstairs.

His hand finds its hold on the old wooden railing as he sprints his way down. More than once, he almost trips and bangs his head into the wall.

And I get to yell at him as much as I want.

Rounding the corner, he jumps on the landing, ignoring the sharp pain that shoots up his thigh. He ignores the stares from everyone else. Looking up his breath catches in his throat. Gray eyes meet his brown ones. He takes one step forward, and then another. And then he sprints the rest.

He’s going to be okay.

Ryuji stops himself right in front of him, an arms-length away. Akira’s face looked like it’s been through hell and back. Split lip, black eye, bruised cheekbone. An intense fury flares up his spine when he sees the grime and dirt up along his temple.

He hesitates.

As much as he wants to reach forward, close the gap, to make sure that this boy that he can’t afford to lose is real… he can’t do it.

Because he knows what would happen if he tries to cross a boundary that isn’t ready to be crossed—he might not be ready. Ryuji could hurt him by touching any injuries he doesn’t know about (God, how much more is he hiding in there? He’s this close to either throwing up or throwing a punch). But what he’s most scared about, what he’s terrified of doing, is touching Akira in the state of mind he’s in right now. For someone to grip him, grab him, even just brush past him right now, it might be too much. Judging by how beat up he looks just from his face? That does shit to people. That changes you.

Ryuji would know. So he keeps his distance.

Akira’s eyes turn dark, and for a second, Ryuji is terrified that he must’ve overstepped a boundary.

Then he throws his arms around Ryuji, the force knocking them both back by a couple of steps.

“Akira?” he asks, bewildered. Never in their friendship has he seen Akira act like this. It sends alarm bells ringing through his head. “What—”

“Don’t,” Akira cuts off, voice hoarse and quiet, so quiet that even this close, Ryuji is straining to hear him. The arms around him tighten. “Don’t be like that. Please. I can’t. Not right now, Ryuji.”

It hits him all at once. And in his sixteen years of living, Ryuji doesn’t think he’s ever been stupider.

Akira’s been trapped in an interrogation room with nothing but a bunch of make-believe police officers. He got the shit beat out of him, had to stage his own suicide.

And Ryuji just tried to push him away.

He lets his arms wrap around Akira tightly; not too tight, but enough to make sure he won’t slip away from him again. (Never again. Not if he can help it.)

“I’m glad you’re back,” he whispers. Tilting his head up, he stares at the soft lighting of Leblanc, forcing his lungs to breathe evenly—not for fear of losing his temper, but for fear of exposing the tears silently streaming down his face. “So fucking glad.”

Akira doesn’t answer. He only buries his face deeper into Ryuji’s shoulder.

Ann was right—Akira isn’t okay. Not for now, not for awhile. It’s up to Ryuji and everyone else in their group of friends to fix that. That’s fine. They’ll all take as long as they need. He isn’t okay right now, but he will be. They can work on that.

But one thing was clear.

I’m not going to lose him tonight.

====

Summer in Mementos is pretty gross.

Granted, it’s always nasty in here—there’s a perpetual air of moisture, like the inside of a whale, if Ryuji had ever been in one (he’s basing that off of an American movie Ann showed them last week; he didn’t even know it was possible for a fish to get lost in the ocean). There’s also the ongoing sound of trains passing by them on loop, and to him, trains are just inherently cramped and humid and always too sticky for his liking.

Of course, there’s the disgusting, weird amalgamated Shadows that litter every level of Mementos. At least in Palaces they sort of resemble something from the real world, but he guesses they didn’t even bother with these ones. The worst part of all this is that right now, it’s hot, but not hot enough for the Shadows to process a heat wave.

So essentially, they’re fighting with additional bucket loads of sweat, but with none of the usual reward that comes with it.

Well, not that they needed it.

“Fox.”

“As you wish.”

Yusuke’s boots skid to a halt as he points his katana at the fast-moving Shadow, the tip perfectly still. “Your assistance, Goemon.”

They’re on their weekly Mementos grind, the list Mishima keeps updating finally too long to ignore. (Akira hates it when things pile up. It’s a big reason why Ryuji hastily cleaned up every time he wanted to come over. Now though, he doesn’t even bother.)

The current All-Star team includes Yusuke, Makoto, Ryuji, and Akira, with the rest of them keeping a close eye in case they need a quick shift in strategy.

From his katana, black ice crawls in the ground beneath rusted train tracks, the air suddenly chilly despite the humidity that was there a moment ago. Frost shoots forward, encasing the legs of the Shadow only to shatter with a strong jerk forward. It roars, the ear-piercing sound causing the scattered debris around them to vibrate. Akira clicks his tongue.

Strong against ice. Easy fix. Ryuji mouths the words along with Akira when he says, “Panther, you’re up.”

“Finally!”

Ann darts in, high-fiving Yusuke as he rushes out. Ryuji can see Makoto pat Yusuke on the back, sympathy etched on her expression and Futaba mussing his hair. He always took it the hardest when he had to be switched out.

Akira’s gloved fingers brush the edge of his monochrome mask. “Come, Principality.”

As if a human version of justice has been summoned down to earth, the winged statue floats for a moment, eyes filled with scorn as she casts a simple, yet effective memory loss spell. The Shadow shakes its head aggressively. It works, but it won’t hold for long.

“Skull.”

“Don’t mind if I do!”

He grins and sprints right, squeezing into the Shadow’s blindside. It tries to twist around to take a swipe at him, but Ryuji is too fast—he slides right between its legs to confuse and disorient it. Once it seems like it completely lost sight of him, he raises his hand to grip the edge of his black mask. “Come on out, Captain!”

It’s a classic tactic; make the enemy lose focus, stun it, and stop it.

A pirate straight out of the Caribbean materializes from the embers of his mask—Captain Kidd in all of his glory regards the Shadow with a look of disdain before sparks fly from the hull of his ship, and an intense streak of lightning bursts forth, shocking its target like something from a regrettable movie about torture, knocking it down to the ground, a buzz perceptible even from here. He might have overdone it.

Ann whistles. “You didn’t even let me get a chance with it.”

“You can have the next million Shadows we bump into, I promise.” He calls Captain back into his mask, fragmented pieces forming together impossibly quick. “We good, Leader?”

Akira nods. “Just let me get the loot,” he smiles at Ryuji. “Awesome voltage on that last one, Skull.”

A grin stretches over his face before he can stop himself. He won’t deny it—getting a compliment from Joker was always something he filed away for later.

He’s too busy feeling pride surge through him that he can’t even bother to get ticked off when he hears Morgana scoff. “It doesn’t matter how good that attack was; he got in the way of Lady Panther’s finishing blow. That’s a crime in my eyes.”

“But doesn’t that just mean he saved her from doing anything?” Makoto raises an eyebrow. “Technically, he prevented any danger from befalling her, right?”

“Queen, as a gentleman, I have an obligation to tell you that that is a sexist notion.”

“You did not just say that.”

Something makes Ryuji pause. Immediately, his eyes flicker around them automatically. He tunes their chattering out, and finds himself tapping his foot, a slight jitter overcoming him. His nerves are trying to tell him something. Or maybe he’s imagining it? Is it just an aftershock from the intense lightning he cast out? No. It’s been too long since he’s had any problem with electric moves, and he’s never had problems from ones that he threw out himself.

Something was wrong, and he can’t put his finger on it.

He rattles his brain trying to figure out what it is. No one’s hurt, everyone’s safe and together. Well, mostly together, since Akira’s still approaching the Shadow—

A cold sweat drapes the back of his neck. Akira is still approaching the Shadow.

The Shadow hasn’t disintegrated yet.

“Akira—!”

The name slips past his lips, codenames forgotten. In slow motion, Ryuji sees Shadow’s body tense, its mouth frothing with what looks like liquid magma made from pits of hell—specializes in curse, and a strong one at that; Ryuji can feel the potency of its malignancy from where he’s standing. He watches as Akira stiffens, fingers twitching towards his mask, ready to retaliate, or at the very least, defend. And like a domino effect of bad luck, Ryuji feels bile rise to his throat.

Akira is good at what he does. Infuriatingly good. Took the whole Metaverse bullshit like a fish to water. But even he can’t switch Personas the same moment he summons them.

Principality would crumple like tissue paper against the Shadow. And Akira along with it.

You’re too late, a voice whispers in his head. You wouldn’t make it.

A heartbeat passes. And then Ryuji is flying.

It’s never too late, screams back something stronger, something unshakeable. Not ever. Especially not for him.

His boots hit the ground like the first strike of lightning amidst a storm—impossibly fast and unexpected. Lungs wheezing and legs throbbing, he crossed the distance in the span of a breath.

The Shadow throws the curse at Akira, red and black and filled to the brim with intensity, and Akira’s eyes can only widen, pupils dilated wildly to the point where there’s only black—a mirror of what’s about to hit him if Ryuji isn’t fast enough.

He doesn’t hesitate.

Ryuji shoves Akira, hard enough that he crashes onto the ground and he can hear the breath forcefully leave his lungs, and suddenly Ryuji can’t hear anything at all. His fingertips are fire and ice, his sense of surroundings have completely dissipated. Any energy in his body is being drained, like a dam cracked into millions of pieces—and all he’s left with is air. Vaguely, he can hear a choking noise, a broken sort of sound.

The blow is not just a violent one—it never is, with curse attacks. Instead of just feeling his skin bruised or blood running down his temple, he also feels himself get weaker, his mind growing heavier. An attack on the mind and body; a perfect cocktail of fucked up.

The last thing he sees before he loses consciousness is the glint from Akira’s knife slicing through the Shadow’s throat.

====

Tokyo is currently at a wicked thirty two degrees.

The sun radiates scorching temperatures down from the sky, the concrete eagerly absorbing every bit of its heat, making something akin to walking across hot coals. It’s hot enough that a mirage is visible to the naked eye. It’s hot enough that every ice cream store has a forty-minute line-up. It’s hot enough that no birds were flying, in fear that they may truly be fried by the sun above them.

Basically, it’s hot as hell.

“Ryuji-chan, pick up the pace!”

But Haru is more vicious than any conceivable temperature.

Looking like a survivor who was lost in the desert for several days, Ryuji lets out a half-garbled battle cry and sprints the last dozen meters. Haru clicks her stopwatch.

Sitting on a lovely lilac blanket, she tsks from underneath the shade. “Three seconds slower.”

“Ugh!” he collapses beside her on the cool grass. If she looks at him from a certain angle, she can see the steam positively radiating off of him. “I’m going to beat the living shit out of the sun.”

“You know I’d support you in anything you do, Ryuji-chan, but I don’t think you’d be fast enough to catch it,” Haru says. She hands him a cold water bottle. “Drink slowly.”

He rolls over so that he can squint up at her. “You’re mean.”

“I’m harsh,” she corrects, shaking the bottle in her hand. “There’s a difference.”

He takes it. “Have you done this before?”

“Helped someone train in running? No. But,” she rummages through her pastel pink tote bag, and proudly shows him a handful of books. He squints at them. “Since I’m so new to the group and everyone has such broad interests, I decided to try reading up on them! Did you know that drinking cold water after running results in less dehydration than drinking warm water?”

Ryuji stares at her. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For saying you’re mean. You’re not mean. You’re real nice, Haru.”

She smiles at him and pats his head, despite the overflowing heat and moisture settled on top. “You’re very sweet Ryuji-chan, but that’s not going to make me go easy on you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the tough-love kind of coach.” Ryuji sits up, cracking open the seal. Chugging down the water, he makes eye contact with Haru before slowing down substantially.

He dumps the rest of it on his head, sighing and shivering in relief. “That’s the good shit.”

“Why not wait for the sun to go down a bit?” she suggests. “The heat is really scorching, and there’s still plenty of time to keep training later.”

“Nah,” he stretches his arms behind his head before he stands again. “I gotta keep going while I still can.”

Haru frowns. “Overexertion isn’t going to help anyone.”

“Don’t you worry your fluffy head! I may be stupid, but I know when to stop when I gotta.”

“I really think you should rest for a bit.”

“I will when I’m done, I promise.”

“You looked rough in that last lap—”

“Haru,” Ryuji is grinning, but his tone leaves no room for argument. “I’m going to keep training.”

They stare at each other for a few moments, before Haru’s shoulder sags slightly. “Alright.” He’s about to say something when she cuts him off. “But only if you tell me why you’re so insistent.”

Ryuji shrugs. “If that’s what it’ll take to prove it to you, then sure. It’s kinda stupid, though.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“Oh, wait till you hear it,” he laughs, a little shy. “So you know how Mona and Futaba are, like, the Metaverse experts? And Makoto is the big brain? And Yusuke does the whole calling card part?” Haru nods, and he continues. “Well, I’m not really… anything. Ann already took the role of moral support and there’s no way in hell I’m the ‘brain’ in anything. Jeez, last time I picked up a paintbrush was in kindergarten. So I figured, I’d be the fast one, you know? The one that can get to someone fast enough to help them out.” Ryuji’s grin turns into something softer; less edge and more fond. It does something to her heart. “And if it’d help ‘Kira down the line, then it’d be worth it, right?”

Haru stays silent.

“Anyway! That’s enough of that cheesy shit.” He moves back to the track, running shoes scuffing at the concrete. “Wish me luck, maybe I can actually catch up to the sun this time. Teach it a lesson.”

“Ryuji.“

Looking back, he gives her a curious look. “Yeah?”

Haru hesitates.

I never once thought you were stupid. You’ve given so much more to the team than you can imagine. You have no idea how many times you’ve helped Akira without even lifting a finger.

“I have a cooler full of water behind me, so… please try your best out there.”

Ryuji gives her an enthusiastic salute. “Yes ma'am!”

He runs off, the sun continuing to beat down him relentlessly.

====

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ryuji knew they were all going to die someday. It’s inevitable. The circle of life, the winds of time, la vie en rose, etc.

He just didn’t expect it to happen at the age of 16, on the sinking cognitive ship of their next Prime Minister, wearing a wack-ass leather outfit surrounded by his panicking friends.

“We’re going to die!” Futaba wails, knees shaking uncontrollably to the point where she can hardly keep standing. “I don’t know how to swim!”

“It’ll be fine,” Akira spits through gritted teeth. He’s far tenser than anyone else, red gloves formed into fists and eyes constantly darting around to see what can save their lives. “We just need to focus.”

Makoto points to something on their right and shouts, “There! A lifeboat!”

Sprinting down the slowly escalating ramp, their eyes widen at the single lifeboat propped at the very top of the bow—which is slowly approaching a ninety degree angle. They all had one thought in their minds.

“We’re not going to make it in time,” Yusuke says, quietly.

Akira bangs his fist into a nearby column. “To hell with that. There’s no way I’m letting us die here.”

A heavy silence falls over them. The air is practically crackling with electricity and pure agitation, but there’s also a determination between all of that. Everyone’s overcome with a need to protect their friends and teammates, but they were at a loss of what to do. A quiet realization overcomes the group—there wasn’t going to be a miracle to save them.

Ryuji’s eyes land on Akira. He’s scanning the area, Third Eye activated but unable to pick up anything that isn’t the lifeboat. There’s no panic in his clear, gray eyes, but the terror in it is the most prevalent out of anyone present.

It hits Ryuji, all at once. The boy in front of him may be his age, and even younger than some members of their group, but he is undoubtedly the leader of the infamous Phantom Thieves. Every decision he made had led them here, in this moment, in their imminent death. And if he lets them all get taken, whether it’s through the ocean or the approaching explosions behind him, the truth of the matter is Akira feels that he would be responsible. That it’s his fault that a cognitive boat would take the lives of his friends.

Yeah. That’s not happening.

Ryuji clenches his eyes shut for a few seconds and slowly opens them. He begins to jump in place, hyping himself up.

“Skull…?” Haru asks, brows furrowing.

“Hang tight, guys,” he says, taking quick breaths. He can do this. “I’ll nab the boat.”

A chorus of gasps and heated objections rang through the air, and Akira steps forward, more shaken than Ryuji’s ever seen him. “No. Skull, please—”

Ryuji throws him a wobbly grin, more for Akira than himself. In one smooth motion, he jumps down and hits the ground running.

“No!”

Immediately, he feels his knees and thighs begin to protest, only intensifying the further he sprints up. For a minute, if Ryuji closes his eyes, he can imagine that he’s in a meet. A race. That the screams he hears behind him are his track mates, and not teammates, friends, best friends that would die if he failed to get to the boat fast enough.

He pushes himself even more.

It’s a miracle that he gets to the raft before his legs give out, and he feels a satisfying crank underneath his palms when he rotates the lever. As he throws a thumbs up at his friends, seeing them safe, healthy, alive, he feels relieved beyond words.

He makes eye contact with Akira, and he really should’ve expected the explosion that comes next.

====

His ceiling has seventy-nine plastic stars.

Ryuji stares up at it from his bed, arms crossed behind his head; they’d long since lost their cheap light. It was raining hard outside, enough to rattle against his window like pebbles calling for his attention. He ignores them.

It’s been years since he got those stars—dating all the way back in middle school. He got into a bad habit of sneaking out in the middle of the night to look at the sky from the roof of their apartment building. It scared the shit out of his ma when she finally caught him, scolded him to hell and back. By the end, they found a compromise: she’d buy him a crap ton from the hundred yen store, and they’d stick it up together. When they did, it kept falling down, so she went back and bought him a bottle of superglue. Now you can’t take them off, even if you tried to use a little scraper.

It bothered him, for a while. Young boys were cruel, and anyone who came to visit always poked fun of him for it. It wasn’t until he visited Akira’s room one day, saw how pleased he was that Yusuke bought them for him that he couldn’t help but revel at his own stars again, after all this time.

Ryuji twists his body sideways, ripping his eyes away from the plastic figures. Enough of that.

His eyes have long adjusted to the darkness that surrounds him, allowing a clear view of his room in the limited moonlight. Laundry splayed around his tatami mat from his sprints training today, gaming controllers scattered on the center table from when Akira came over a few days ago. That was a blast. He helped him beat a boss he’s been stuck on for weeks, and Akira beat it like it was nothing, it was the coolest shit ever—

Ryuji forces himself to flip over to glare at the wall. Sleep. That’s a better idea.

He takes a deep breath, forcing his breathing to go steady. There’s lots to do tomorrow—school is a drag, but they plan on meeting up at Leblanc afterwards. The thought allows his muscles to relax. Really, the atmosphere of Leblanc is just so pleasing to him. The warm lighting, the run-down booths, even the smell is a welcome presence. Well, that’s mostly because Akira drags it with him wherever he—

Slowly, his eyes open.

It always comes back to him, doesn’t it?

He rolls onto his back, in a position to stare at the stars again. The rain hammers on.

Ryuji’s a dumb kid.

It’s not a self jab, it wasn’t manifested by some sort of long-standing insecurity. It’s a fact. He’s never been good with a book, never done anything half-decent by picking up a pencil, his mind was never programmed to listen and retain information in long classes. It’s definitely not like he’s the brains of the Thieves, never a strategist of some kind. His ma encouraged him to take on a tutor in the past, and he’d rather bite a finger off than spend her money on wasted potential, so he found himself wandering the streets of Central Street as a way to pass time.

Ryuji’s a dumb kid, but even he knows he’s irrevocably, completely, stupidly in love with Kurusu Akira.

He sits up and ruffles his hair, frustrated. There are too many things wrong with that sentence, too many things that can go wrong because of that sentence. Of course, he finds the one thing that can mess up the unshakeable foundation that he and Akira built for each other. He must’ve really pissed off some God upstairs for him to have a hell-bent queer awakening with his best friend.

No, that’s wrong. It was the furthest thing from hell-bent—it was soft, it was gray, it was raining, and most importantly, it took its time.

They were halfway through Kamoshida’s Palace when Ryuji realized it; the sheer amount of power that hindsight gave him made him pause long enough to get clocked out by a Shadow.

Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. It can’t matter, because he would never, ever do anything to fuck up what he has. Not again.

Wait, no, that’s not true. Even before Kamoshida, he’s never had something like this. He’s never had someone like him. He’s never had someone who’s so entirely on the same wavelength as him, who’d have his back even when his was against a wall. Kurusu Akira is…ethereal. Out of this world. Cool as fuck. (Hot as fuck, too.) If you lined up the entirety of Tokyo and told him he could pick one. One person out of the whole lineup to be his friend, he’d have his answer in a heartbeat.

See, now that isn’t something that changed with hindsight—Ryuji’s known that he’s been in love with Akira since before they completed Kamoshida’s Palace. And when he figured it out, he didn’t feel shock. His eyes didn’t widen, his heart didn’t start thumping like crazy. It’s more like he just scratched his head in a huh kind of way. It felt like his life had been waiting for that day in April, like everything was at a standstill until he finally met Kurusu Akira. It made sense. Everything just makes sense when Akira’s involved.

Which just makes this all the more fucked up.

He knocks his head back against the wall, eyes stuck on the raindrops’ rapidly moving shadows on his bedroom floor. Karma. That’s probably what’s happening. The world still hasn’t forgiven him for losing his shit, so they decided to make him pine for the only person that he can’t afford to lose.

He can’t even stomach the idea of trying to get over it, to try and put distance between himself and Akira. He spent a lifetime waiting for a miracle, for someone who didn’t know existed. He’s not giving up a single second of time with him. That’s probably why the world relentlessly shits on him; he’s selfish enough to keep the feelings that he has. But he can’t bring himself to regret that decision. Not with the way his breath hitches in his throat whenever Akira walks into the room.

Ryuji’s in love with his best friend, and there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it. He’s accepted it. Just like how the sky is blue, or that he well and truly hates Calculus. It’s a factor of life.

The rain seemed to fall harder, droplets sounding like rigorous hail against the windowpane. He lets out a long yawn.

Ryuji’s in love with his best friend, and there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

That’s not the reason why he can’t sleep at night.

Akira is a quiet guy. He gets his point across with as few words as possible, as if each letter costs him fifty yen to say out loud. So he speaks through his expression; a quirk of his brow, a tilt of his head, a certain smile is enough to carry half of the conversation.

And, every once in a while, Akira gets a look.

It comes up at the weirdest times—when the two of them baton pass in the Metaverse, when Ryuji eats ramen too fast and gets sick, when he helps an old lady cross the street. Plenty of times it’s because Ryuji is doing something incredibly stupid (like when he said that the square root of sixteen is six, because if you just get rid of the one, then that makes sense, right?), or when they’re laughing so hard neither of them can breathe. But sometimes it comes up in quieter moments, too. The two of them talking quietly in the attic at Leblanc, or when Akira confesses that he’s relieved Ryuji’s always there for him. (As if there would ever be a time where he won’t be.)

The look is subtle enough to miss but easy to find if someone knows what they’re looking for. The usual attentiveness that resides in Akira’s eyes disappears, in its place a softer gaze; his pupils get dilated, and the edge of his eyes get all crinkled like Valentine’s tissue paper. A half-smile rests on his lips, never quite turning into a full-blown grin, but that’s okay. For some reason, it all reminds Ryuji of the moon. Of soft moonlight. Of streetlamps on empty roads.

Ryuji’s in love with his best friend, and there’s a small, tiny, infinitesimal chance that his best friend might love him back.

His eyelids slide shut, though he knows that it won’t be enough to let him rest.

Realistically, he’s probably wrong. Akira isn’t in love with him, and he’s only seeing what he wants to see. With every eligible person seeming to fall in love with him at some point in time, how would it even be possible that Akira would love him?

He rubs his eyes, desperate to get rid of the unending fatigue that’s plagued him for months on end. It doesn’t work.

Bad excuse. Akira does love him, just like he loves everyone he encounters and befriends and ends up risking his life for. Ryuji’s surprised Akira hasn’t passed out yet, given his bleeding heart for the entire population of Tokyo.

Lightning flashes and thunder rumbles as he rubs his eyes harder.

But what if he wasn’t wrong? What if the signals he’s seeing aren’t based on misunderstood yearning?

When his eyes start to burn, his fingers move up to his hair.

There’s no way in hell he’d ever risk losing his best friend. His partner. His Akira. It’s not something he can gamble. It’s not worth it.

He begins to tug, hands shaking, and he can barely feel the sting of pain from nearly pulling his hair out his scalp.

It’s not worth it. He decided that in the very beginning.

Ryuji buries his face into his palms.

But he is so, so exhausted of being tired.

Lightning flashes, and for a split-second, his room is bright.

Fuck it.

By the time thunder rumbles through his apartment, he’s already out the front door.

His sneakers squelch against the wet concrete, soaking his unsocked feet. He’s sprinting fast enough that the street lights around him blur, and he can feel quick breaths getting pulled out of him. It takes him a few seconds to realize that he forgot to wear a raincoat, but he doesn’t care.

Akira is his best friend. Akira accepted him, flaws and all. Akira loves him, one way or another. That’s what held him back. He can’t risk losing that.

Ryuji quickly checks both sides before running across the street, wiping the rain off his brow, and keeps going.

But that’s what should’ve pushed him into confessing sooner. Because if that’s all true, then that can only ever mean that Akira would accept this part of him too, right?

He jerks out of the way as he almost barrels over a fire hydrant, making him step into a deep puddle. It doesn’t slow him down.

Maybe he would’ve realized it sooner if he wasn’t too fucking tired to think straight.

His lungs begin to complain, his breaths turning to wheezes, but he ignores it in favor of going faster.

Too late for that now. All the matters now is to talk to—

He skids to a halt.

In front of him—eyes wide, hair drenched, no shoes—stands Kurusu Akira.

Ryuji’s mouth falls open, and for a minute, he almost laughs. Of course. He should’ve known. Just as he’s willing to sprint to Akira at an unholy hour in the night…

He smiles sheepishly at him, and Ryuji feels his chest constrict in the loveliest way possible.

…Akira would do the exact same thing for him.

The rain slows, and the thunder ceases for a moment. The world pauses long enough for both of them to speak in the same breath, the same heartbeat:

“I’m in love with you.”

#fic tag #akiryu #pegoryu #fanfic #writing #ryuji sakamoto #akira kurusu #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #mine #desperate as that sounds #and yeah man thats a jon bellion song #fic

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mynachopaper · 4 years

Text

Tickle Anomaly Files #8

Codename: Snuggle Bud

Subject: A small mammal with a body similar to a cat, having six legs and two thin tails. Its head appears to have more lupine features, a mischievous smile with pointed ears. Two large black eyes and a long tongue are also notable oddities. Its body is covered in fluffy golden fur. The claws seem to be dull as well, akin to a pen or quill. The general behaviour appears similar to that of a golden retriever or labrador, constantly scampering and cuddling for attention.

The subject was found near Mount Kailash, Tibet. A local hiking group had discovered it searching though their backpacks for food. One of the hikers approached and tried to scare it off, however it pounced on him and began to nuzzle his neck. His squeals and giggles seemed to spur it on as it licked and nibbled around his collar bone and ears. Its claws squeezing his sides and pinching his ribs. Eventually his partner was able to pry it off of him. The local wildlife association was notified of the discovery, luckily the call was intercepted by the foundation and we managed to retrieve it without any complications.

During examination we found that its DNA is unique. So far no known species matches its base sequence. Genetic testing is continuing however as far as our scientists are concerned it isn't even of this world. What we have determined however, is that its diet consists of sweet fruits and the occasional insect. It makes constant gurgles and squeaks when near humans. When alone it simply chirps and coos while stalking around the room, pouncing on furniture.

Agent Prentiss was brought in for live testing. We left them in one of the lounges and simply observed. Prentiss sat on the couch. She was hesitant at first but smiled as it clumsily scampered and flopped around her feet. She patted her hand beside her. The subject leapt up and curled into her lap, after some adjustments it began to purr. They simply snuggled together for some time. Prentiss noted that she felt calm, stating she could feel a sense of peace radiating off of its body.

After some time one of its tails flicked against her side causing her to giggle. The creature squeaked in response and nuzzled its face into her stomach. Prentiss broke out into a stream of giggles as she tried to push it off, however its multiple limbs and nimble figure easily out maneuvered her frantic flailing.

Its dull claws would spider up her sides, tickling around and between each of her ribs as she squealed. It then clambered up to her neck and started to nibble, even using its tongue to elicit the occasional shriek. It seems to react well to laughter and giggles, chirping and gurgling as its victim writes beneath. Notably should its victim become too loud it will panic and slow down, allowing some recovery. Soon however, it continues tickling and nuzzling every inch of its victim. It even has been seen to use its tails to gently tease and caress the skin, gliding them along the victims stomach or flicking them inside the armpits.

After around 15 minutes the creature seemed to tire itself out, much to the relief of agent Prentiss. It resumed its cuddling position on her lap, softly purring once again. Prentiss laid back, exhausted. She would note in her report that she felt her stress and tension melt away in the presence of the subject.

Currently the subject is being used in the recovery ward. Since we've allowed employees to spend time with it morale has improved by 37%. Simply playing with it and feeding it treats seems to keep everyone in high spirits. Even agent Londra has taken a liking to the creature, though she has been threatening anyone who explicitly says so.

The team has requested the subject to be named 'Squibble'

Request: Granted

Object class: Creature (safe)

#tickle anomalies #tickling fiction #writing #just a soft one today

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jungkookiebus · 4 years

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Birdwatcher | intro | kth

Genre: nonidol!au, spy!au, eventual possibility of angst, smut maybe? who knows Pairing taehyung x reader, but his fic is from Tae’s POV Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: mentions of weapons, use of a gun, spy stuff and more spy stuff, there is violence in the way of a tussle but nothing gory, there will probably be future violence Summary: Kim Taehyung, or codename Nova, has always run a tight ship when it came to espionage and in the last seven years you haven’t had the faintest idea of his actual job. It all came crashing around him when he received a message from a mysterious woman in an alleyway who knows too much and whose words are laced with poison when she threatens you. If there is one thing that Taehyung doesn’t take lightly, it’s threats against his most precious asset.

“This is inconvenient,” Taehyung muttered under his breath.

He sat behind the wheel of his car, decked out in his expensive suit, ready for the evening, until those plans got pushed back a little. His hands clutched the wheel as he stared straight ahead, headlights illuminating three men standing in the alleyway. He only wanted to take this way as a shortcut, but he had no idea he was being tailed and he wanted to kick himself for not paying more attention. Slowly, he reached down for his phone and long pressed the one, dialing your number. His headphones were still in, so he sat still as the sound of ringing filled his ears, willing you to answer your phone quickly.

“Hey,” you said breathlessly. It sounded like maybe you were just getting out of the cab.

“Hey, babe…,” he started.

“Don’t tell me you’re running late at work again.”

“It’s a minor thing. I’ll barely be late.”

“You better promise, Kim Taehyung.”

“I promise. I love you.” He always said it with such conviction. Who knew when he’d get to say it again if at all?

“I love you.” You sounded happy, hopeful, and in complete ignorant bliss which is where he wanted to keep you for forever.

The line went dead as you hung up the phone. The three men were slowly approaching his car as he went through a mental checklist of what he had. Swallowing hard, Taehyung stepped out of the car, hand on the door as he stood behind it.

“What can I do for you gentlemen this evening? I have somewhere to be.”

“You’re not going anywhere, smartass,” one burly man snarled.

“There’s no need to be rude,” he mock pouted.

“This is the end of your run, Nova.”

Nova. Taehyung’s code name within the agency and famous on the lips of all criminals. He was illusive and always out of reach, there before you knew it, and gone before you could blink. Master of disguise, languages, and weapons; he had it all. To you, he was just an exec at a top marketing firm traveling for work and staying late to work on projects. He even had the façade; the agency having rented out a floor in a high rise downtown and equipped with “employees”. They registered the fake company name, employees had badges with the company logo, and all were briefed on what to do if visitors were to arrive. When there was no one besides the agents, they worked hard to procure information for Taehyung, booked him flights, gave him intel, and prepared his missions. When you came to visit, you would see the same faces, say the same names, talk about past and future projects and no one missed a beat. Taehyung was grateful for the front when it came to you, keeping you out of harm’s way as much as possible.

“What makes you say that?” he asked while unbuttoning his suit jacket so that he could get to his chest holster easier. The light from his headlights obscured their vision to what he was doing. He stepped lithely around the door to stand in front of it and face the men.

“Don’t come any closer!” one man said holding up a gun.

Taehyung smirked as he heard the nervousness laced in the man’s voice. His stance was off, he noticed, and his grip on the gun was loose. What a shame.

He was unnaturally fast in his movements, having already mapped out how this would go from the beginning. Even before he made the phone call to you, he was planning out his moves. The closest thug moved in fast, but Taehyung was faster. Bent at the waist, his left leg came up and around, foot connecting with the side of the man’s face. Temporarily stunned, the man moved backwards and the next was already on top of him but before he could close in, Taehyung dropped down, hands planted on the asphalt as he swept his right leg around and knocked the second man onto the first. Standing fast, he jerked his arm in front of him, releasing a small device from within his sleeve and held it in his palm facing the next man. Within the second he closed his eyes; he pressed a button that flashed a light so bright it thwarted the man in his path. Taehyung kicked out directly in front of him, foot connecting with the man’s chest as he flew backwards into the brick wall of the nearest building. The second man was on his feet once more and charging in Taehyung’s direction with a snarl. Reaching into his suit jacket, he undid the clip on his holster and drew the gun, pointing it at the man who had now stopped short.

“I don’t have to kill you,” Taehyung panted.

“Yea, but I gotta kill you.”

From seemingly out of the nowhere, the man pulled a knife from somewhere behind him and swiped close to Taehyung who felt the breeze from the man’s swing. Moving backwards and ducking, Taehyung was expertly dancing around the man as he swung wildly.

That was when his phone rang. The small trill of the ringtone he had assigned to you filled his ear as his phone vibrated within the car. He could simply not answer, but then you’d start to worry, and he couldn’t have you sending the troops to look for him. Reaching up quickly, he pressed the button to answer.

“Hey!” he tried to keep his breathing even as he dodged yet another sloppy blow from the man.

On the next upswing he was able to connect with the man, grabbing his wrist and twisting it back painfully.

“Where are you?! Whatever is going on at work can’t be that important, Taehyung.” Your stern and angry voice filled his senses. In any other situation and if he were any other person, he would probably be upset with you for acting so unfairly, but honestly, the sound of your voice put him at ease and allowed him to focus.

“I swear I’m going to be there soon, baby, just don’t go home.”

He continued to twist the man’s arm until he was down on his knees, face twisted in pain before Taehyung landed a punch square between the man’s eyes, knocking him out.

It was when the hair raised on the back of his neck that Taehyung knew something was wrong.

“I’m expecting you here in less than fifteen minutes.” Your voice broke through his thoughts as he looked around quickly, trying to find the source of his uneasiness.

“Yea, less than fifteen minutes. I’ll see you there,” he said before ending the call.

The alley was quiet save for the sounds of the city.

“Oh, Nova.”

The voice was smooth with an edge that could cut glass. A woman in dark clothing stepped out of the shadows. A dark, wide brimmed hat cast her face in shadow. She wore a long, black jacket and from what he could tell, a dress and high leather boots. He examined her from head to toe as she stood in the middle of the alley.

“I see you took the bait.” He heard more than saw the smirk.

“Who are you?” He raised his gun again, body ready if anything were to happen.

“It’s irrelevant who I am, but more of what I know…Kim Taehyung.”

His breath caught in his throat as she uttered his name. The thing that was most sacred to him and only known by those closest to him was now public knowledge to someone he didn’t know.

“How do you know my name?” he asked as his grip tightened on the gun.

“Yet another irrelevant question. Come on, Taehyung, I know you’re smarter than that.”

“Iris?” Taehyung whispered.

He heard the extremely faint hum of his A.I. whir to life in his ear.

“Hello, Nova,” the soft melodic, yet robotic voice sounded in his ear.

“Facial scan.”

“Scanning.”

Taehyung was always equipped with contacts so that Iris could assess his surroundings and report back to him within seconds.

“Her face does not come up in any databases but based off slight difference of color at her hairline and the smoothness of her hands compared to the discolored skin on her face, she is in disguise. Voice recognition also does not pull up any files.”

Taehyung wasn’t scared of a lot of things, but something about this woman rubbed him the wrong way.

“Now I’m going to need you to cooperate,” she said as he walked forward, turning a phone in his direction.

At first, he thought it was a video, but upon closer inspection it was video footage of you sitting alone at the restaurant just around the block. He lowered his gun as he leaned in closer. You sat at the table, wine glass in hand, and looking down at the delicate gold watch he had bought for you last year. He felt his heart seize in his chest with fear, but he made sure his face stayed placid.

“The man at the table behind her is one of mine. I say the word and she’s dead right before your eyes.”

He gritted his teeth, hoping his eyes were conveying the anger he felt all the way down to his gut.

“What do you want?”

“I need you to do something for me.” She smiled at the end of the sentence and her teeth glinted in the dim lights of the street, casting her in a more evil shadow that unsettled him.

She casually strode up to him, knowing he wasn’t going to do anything to her so long as you were in danger. The closer she got, the more details he saw. She was in disguise; a good one, but a disguise all the same. The only thing that was real were her eyes. A dusty gray, they seemed even more menacing under the hat, sometimes in a shadow and sometimes not. She smelled strongly of roses and it burned in his nose as she leaned into him. Subtly, he shifted so that he was angled away. He almost didn’t want her to touch him, but she pushed upwards on her toes as she brought her lips to his ear and whispered.

Taehyung’s car fishtailed out of the alleyway, causing oncoming traffic to slam on their brakes and honk their horns, but no one existed to him as he sped down the road. Within minutes he was at the restaurant parking perfectly curbside, running past the valet, and into the restaurant. A startled hostess opened her mouth to greet him as he dashed past her and into the dining area. You saw him as he approached, worry written across his face, clothes disheveled, and…

“Is that blood!?” you exclaimed as he walked up and grabbed you by the hand.

You tried to stop him, but he was determined to get you out of the restaurant as fast as possible. The man that was sitting behind you was gone, but that didn’t stop him from scanning the room as he went. Other diners and staff stopped eating or walking with trays to gawk. Taehyung was a force normally, but when threatened he gave off an aura that no one wanted to fuck with. He had you out of the restaurant and in his car in what seemed like seconds.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?!” you yelled as he got in and pulled away from the curb, headed in the direction of home.

“_____,” he began, licking his lips and looking over at you nervously. He knew you saw the fear laced in his eyes. He was normally a strong person, a rational person. He was the type of person that never got disturbed by anything, but tonight was testing his boundaries.

“I’m going to need you to listen to me very closely. There is a lot I need to explain and there won’t be a lot of time because I need to prepare.”

He was already dialing the number to his “secretary”, that much you could see as her name popped up on the screen set in his dash.

Within one ring, she picked up and answered smoothly, “Good evening, Nova.”

“What the fuck?” he heard you whisper under your breath. Taehyung looked at you sideways, gauging your reaction to what he was about to say.

A car honked as he ran another red light, swiftly moving in and out of cars in a way you had only seen in movies.

“I’m going to need you to initiate Strawberry Protocol.”

The line went silent and Taehyung heard her clear her throat softly.

“Did you get that?”

“Yes sir, I will initiate Strawberry Protocol and inform the others. Will there be anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

And the line went dead. Taehyung looked over at you again, fear written into your every feature.

“There’s a lot you won’t understand and a lot of it won’t make sense, but I’m going to need you to trust that everything I say is true and vitally important for you to know.”

“Taehyung, what are you saying?” he heard your voice quaver as your tears began to fall.

“Well, let me just rip the band aid off and say that there is someone after me, who has threatened you, and I am,” the fake leather of the steering wheel crackled in protest as he squeezed it harder. All he could think of was her turning that video around and you sitting within feet of death, unaware of what was really going on. He had spent the last seven years keeping you in the dark, out of the way of danger, and living peacefully. But this woman, this enigma had come from the shadows knowing his name and threatening you in the same breath and that was the woman’s first mistake, “irrevocably pissed off.”

#bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #bts smut #bts angst #bts au #spy!au #spy!taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung pov #taehyung #nonidol!au #reader insert #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #birdwatcher

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

Text

Codename Cupid: Chapter 8

Previous: Another Shot At Love Pt. 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi X OFC, Park Jimin X OMC

Genre: Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Government Agent AU, Slice of Life

Rating: NC17

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Swearing, Legal Alcohol Consumption, Degradation, Humiliation, Verbal Abuse, Horrible Family, Bullying, Sibling Rivalries, Homophobia, Toxic Masculinity

Summary: Codename Suga joins Codename Cupid at her parents house for family dinner. It’s both everything he imagined, and so much worse.

Codename Another Shot at Love Part 3

Fall Post Graduation

Park Yoongi, Codename Suga, arrived at the Lee residence dressed to the nines, a new suit, top of the line glasses and Ferragamo loafers that Hoseok had picked out especially for him. Nothing about his look screamed mid-level employee at a top-level bank, or government agent bent on destroying a company from within, which was the point. Namjoon had determined that to impress the Lee’s, Codename Valentine, Suga had to be runway ready. His hair was slicked back, and in his arms, a bottle of Makers 46, a bottle Cupid had ensured her father would appreciate. In his ear, a flesh-colored earpiece, specially designed, allowing his teammates, Codenames RM, Worldwide Handsome and J-Hope, to feed him lines when needed.

Adjusting his spectacles and turning them on, Suga’s vision was momentarily blocked as the sensors began their job scanning everything and everyone insight, transmitting data in real time to his set up at OT7 headquarters. The glasses, a creation he had spent the better part of a year working on, were a modification of his third-generation specs. Not only could they recognize faces, scan for heat sensors, but log sounds such as alarm codes and lock patterns, decoding their passcodes in seconds. This was a marked improvement from the generation twos, which recorded sound and took up to 24 hours to decode. The recorded surveillance was wired through the major databases used by OT7 to track down faces of everyone Suga came in contact with. Tonight, their goal was to memorize every aspect of the Lee’s estate, transmit the layout into a CAD (computer aided design) drawing and print a scaled blueprint. They were also responsible for identifying every human in the Lee’s house, pulling names, birthdays, permanent addresses and social security numbers. In his glasses case, Suga had placed several microscopic microphones, which he placed on any surface he touched. They might not have eyes inside the mansion, but OT7 would have ears.

“Park Yoongi,” The attendant declared as he stepped through the foyer and into the sitting room, where the entire Lee, Codename Valentine, family sat waiting for him.

“Good evening,” Yoongi bowed deeply, a remnant of his heritage and a sign of respect.

“Yoongi!” Euna said, standing and quickly wrapping her arms around his neck. Leaning in, she placed a delicate kiss on his cheek. “Mom, dad, this is Yoongi, my boyfriend.”

Mr. Lee rose, looked Yoongi up and down before he spoke, “I hear you work for us. Good.”

“Yes, sir, I do,” Yoongi nodded.

“Your work is good, you fly under the radar, if you’re to continue this with Euna, you will need to do better,” Mr. Lee extended his hand, shaking Yoongi’s, before moving past him.

“Sir, I brought you a gift, I heard it’s one of your favorites,” Yoongi handed the man the bottle and watched as he unwrapped it. His oafish hands tore through the tissue paper, impatient to get his hands on something he didn’t buy but eagerly wanted.

“Ahh, a bribe, thoughtful,” Mr. Lee said before handing the bottle to the head of house, who had quietly walked into the room. She took it and carefully moved to place it on the shelf which housed an impressive collection of whiskey.

Mrs. Lee looked at her cohort of older children. “Don’t be rude.”

The three children rose and walked towards Yoongi. Towering over him, Dae-Seong and Jun-Seo glared down at him, a sinister smirk on both their faces.

“Dae-Seong,” He said, squeezing Yoongi’s hand harder than necessary.

“Jun-Seo,” He repeated the action, his hold lighter, his smirk faded into a thin line, laced with more concern than Yoongi imagined Dae-Seong could ever muster.

“Yoongi,” Kwan-Min bowed before extending her hand, “Kwan-Min.” Her smile mirrored Euna’s, gentle and vibrant. Her eyes told the same story as her brothers, watch your back.

“Nice to meet you,” Yoongi responded. Carefully taking a seat next to Euna, he smiled tersely at the family.

“Yoongi, tell us about yourself,” Mrs. Lee requested. She slowly clinked the perfectly shaped sphere of ice in her glass, it slowly melting into the brown liquid.

“Is there anything specific you want to know?” He responds politely.

“Your file is thin, you don’t seem to want to advance at Lee Enterprises, so how’d you end up here?” Dae-Seong doesn’t mince words. Much like the booming timbre of his voice, his words cut straight to the point.

“I worked in the Manhattan branch every summer of college, had two internships my junior and senior year, and then applied for an entry level position,” Yoongi could hear Namjoon, Codename RM, in his ear, repeating the fabricated story made ever more real by Hoseok’s ability to forge documents.

“They moved you out here?” Mr. Lee questioned.

“Yes, they asked if I would transfer,” Yoongi replied.

“Why?” Dae-Seong was perplexed, no new hire was asked to transfer unless they were a problem worth handling.

“They said I was polished, and my work was good,” Yoongi shrugged. WWH reminded him to lean into the nonchalance, the ultimate fuck-you attitude the Lee’s hated.

“Seems vague,” Jun-Seo remarked. “Your childhood was rather bleak, wasn’t it?”

“It wasn’t the best, but it was temporary,” Yoongi knew this was the line of questioning they’d take, and not just with him, with anyone not from the upper echelon, anyone not worth less than 100 million.

“Your parents were, sorry, are, quite poor,” Dae-Seong pressed.

“Poor to some is rich to others,” Yoongi answered.

“But poor is still, poor,” Jun-Seo responded.

“You haven’t dated much, either have you Yoongi?” Kwan-Min’s voice was velvet, soft and supple in the tense air.

“I’ve had a few relationships, but none like Euna,” Mr. World Wide’s voice was clear and gentle, sell it Suga.

“What makes her so different? Clearly you see things that we don’t,” Dae-Seong snorted back a laugh, it was a hideous sound, loud and haunting.

“I see a lot of things in Euna. She’s thoughtful, considerate, she’s caring and funny. She accepts me for who I am, and makes me a better person,” Yoongi laid on the compliments like he hadn’t spent the last two weeks rehearsing them for OT7.

It had taken him a while to list the characteristics he liked about Cupid, and ultimately had recruited WWH to write it for him. He stared at the words Mr. Handsome wrote, and was shocked that he still cared this much about her. Yoongi felt none of these things, none of these adjectives or memories that Mr. Handsome had strewn together resonated with him in the slightest. Cupid was a mark, a pawn in the play, nothing more.

“Huh, lucky someone does,” Jun-Seo laughed, ribbing Dae-Seong and leading him in a cackle all their own. Yoongi glanced at Euna to see her jaw set, cheeks flushed, eyes glossed.

“Jun-Seo, you have a guest,” The attendant from the front door announced, standing taught at the door. A blond-haired man entered, smirking with a hint of humor. Yoongi stared at his dazzling smile and kind eyes.

“You made it!” Jun-Seo stood to engulf the man in a hug, lips pressing aggressively to his lips. “I thought you said you were busy.”

“I got away,” The blond responded.

“It’s lovely to see you,” Mrs. Lee stood to embrace the man, followed by Kwan-Min. Yoongi watched carefully as Dae-Seong and Mr. Lee scowled, arms crossed, brows set. They didn’t have to speak their distaste for Jun-Seo’s apparent partner, it was written in their body language.

“It’s lovely to see you too,” He said. His eyes didn’t glance at the elder males but landed squarely on Yoongi and Euna.

“Lee Euna, is that how you greet me?” He questioned, a hand resting on his hip, hair lightly falling in his eyes.

“I’m so happy to see you!” She bounded off the settee towards him, arms around his neck, holding him close. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you before the big trip!”

Yoongi stared, dumbfounded, and blinked quickly, trying to understand the rapid change in her demeanor. Gone were the tears, the anger, the hate that was coursing through her body. It was replaced with care? Genuine excitement? What the hell is the big trip?

“I had to get in one more family dinner before I’m gone for the month,” The blond smiled warmly at Euna, a twinkle in his eye as he glanced at Yoongi. “Is that?”

“Oh! This is my boyfriend, Park Yoongi. Yoongi, meet Jun-Seo’s partner, Cho Jimin,” Euna said. The two men exchanged a handshake before sitting down next to their respective partners.

“How long have you and Jun-Seo been together?” Yoongi inquired.

“Hm, a year?” Jun-Seo replied, a hand resting gently on Jimin’s thigh.

“Did you meet at work or-

“Twenty questions with the twinks! Line em up, it’s time to play!” Dae-Seong yelled, earning a chuckle from his father. “First question, who tops and who bottoms? Follow up, is Jun-Seo as weak of a top as he-

“Dinner is ready,” The head of house said, stepping into the room just in time. Rolling his eyes, Dae-Seong stood.

“You’re gonna need your strength,” He winked at Jimin before brushing past them and heading for the dining room. Yoongi followed obediently and cautiously, taking his time putting one foot in front of the other as he followed the Lee’s. Pausing every so often, he carefully trailed a finger over a surface, leaving a singular mic, completely invisible, behind.

The dining room was stunning, taken out of the palace of Versailles with a Korean twist, the marble floors and ornate chandeliers were out of this world. Flowers blooming in ancient vases, artwork that looked to be that of Picasso and An Kyŏn, Monet and Manet, lining the walls like the Louvre. There wasn’t anything the Lee’s money couldn’t buy, even 15th century originals were bound to become fodder in their quest for prestige.

Draped across the table, a gold runner, glittering with what could only be described as actual gold flakes. Waterford Crystal glasses, and hand painted china rested delicately against the gold, the white shining brilliantly under the lights of the chandelier. Awaiting the guests, an endless array of traditional Korean food: Jjajangmyeon, Bulgogi, Samgyetang, Kalguksu, Galbi, Dubu Kimchi, Kimchi Fried Rice, with bowls of Hobakjuk as everyone’s appetizers, and Gyeranjjim waiting on a refined plate to be consumed with each passing spice.

Yoongi’s eyes were wide, his lungs breathing rapidly to take in the scents of home, of familiarity. How peculiar to be eating the cuisine of his ancestors, of his blood, in a room with people who would willing spill each other’s.

“Yoongi, sit next to Dae-Seong.” Mr. Lee instructed.

Excellent, Namjoon muttered in his ear.

“Dae-Seong, I hear that you’re making quite a splash as the Chairman,” Yoongi voiced.

“Only bottom feeders eat my ass, Yoongi. For that you need to see Jun-Seo, appointment only,” Dae-Seong rolled his eyes.

“Please, do not speak of your brother’s depravity at dinner. Save it for dessert,” Mr. Lee scolded, eyes hard on Dae-Seong.

“When are we going to discuss Kwan-Min’s latest triste?” Jun-Seo inquired.

“Now seems like the perfect opportunity,” Mr. Lee answered. “Dae-Seong?”

In some sort of twisted ritual, Dae-Seong cracked his knuckles, then his neck, swirled a sip of whiskey between his lips and leaned in. Batting his eyes delicately at Kwan, he bared his teeth. Yoongi restrained from asking “you getting this?” to his team, because they were in fact, watching with bated breath.

“The category is, colossal fuck ups. The reining champ, for the first time in, Euna, how old are you? Never mind, age has no number when you’re a twat. Kwan-Min, for a million dollars, explain how you found yourself cunt up with a political fundraiser? I’m sorry, a Republican political fundraiser?”

Mrs. Lee gasped, her soup spoon dropping aggressively into her bowl, rattling the china. Euna didn’t look up, but quietly shoveled soup into her mouth, feigning ignorance.

“Kwan-Min, how could you?” Mrs. Lee demanded.

“If the rumors are true, and we’ll need Jun to confirm, Mr. Brady, I believe?” Dae-Seong inhales, eyes never leaving Kwan’s, voice even, “He’s particularly gifted in a few areas, and very well endowed and what was that other word? Oh yes, generous.”

“Quite a generous tongue on that one,” Jun responded, shame flickering past his eyes in a brief moment before his resolve solidified.

“How could you?” Mrs. Lee repeats again. “You are the second eldest of this family, the face of our philanthropy, and you are consorting with a known republican? Not to mention a man so cruel he, he,

“He thinks Dae-Seong is weak,” Euna spoke. Her wavering voice echoed over the table, everyone’s eyes turning to her. “I mean, that’s what you’re doing, right Kwan? Find someone so repugnant that Dae is outraged, spurring on another break down in hopes he’ll OD and you’ll what, become chairwoman of the board?”

“Fuck you for insinuating I make my decisions based on Dae. Do you live and breathe at his request?” Kwan spat, the heat from the food and the fight rising in her cheeks.

“No,” Euna was incredulous, how could Kwan assume that?

Through gritted teeth she responded, “Neither do I.”

“For two million, Mr. Chairman,” Jun motioned toward Dae, “explain to us how you could be fucking a member of the opposing party, who has tried to ruin this family numerous times? Is the dick that great?” Jun-Seo pressed.

“Don’t pretend that you haven’t fucked him, fag,” Dae laughed. “You two are the biggest whores in the game.”

“That’s not true,”

“The fact that you’re Eskimo siblings, not once, not twice, but have shared more than three sexual partners is revolting. You’re fucking freaks, sodomizing the legacy of this family for some log cabin taint who can’t even be bothered to pay the child support for the kids he knows about.”

“How do you know so many categories of gay men?” Euna asked, eyes narrowing at Dae-Seong, “You been experimenting?”

“Oh, don’t even get me started on you and your choices, Euna,” Dae rolled his eyes then glanced at Jun-Seo, who was sneering at him.

“What could you possibly say that you haven’t before?” Euna cackled, a sound so foreign Yoongi can’t help but feel his eyes bug out.

“Whoa,” Mr. Handsome says in his ear.

“Oh shit,” RM responds.

“You’re not even worth discussing,” Kwan-Min stepped in, and swinging the last of her cocktail back, she turned to Dae-Seong. “I’m more interested in your affinity for homosexual stereotypes. Tell me, when you’re alone in your house, your wife sleeping in a separate apartment, cities away, is that what you’re watching? Is that what gets you off? Picturing a willing gaping hole, just waiting to be ruined? Or no, I’m sorry, but Jun, don’t you think he’d be-

“A power bottom? Absolutely, he spends his nights ogling over submissive bears, trying to find one big enough to fill him, scrolling through chatrooms under, what was his username?” Jun-Seo doesn’t look at Kwan, he knows she understands what is about to transpire.

“Beary-willing007,” They recite together.

J-Hope guffaws in Suga’s ear, followed by a loud “oh shit!”

“I can’t imagine how it would look if your little, what did you call it?” Kwan asked.

“The twink or the fag?” Jun-Seo repeated Dae’s words so seamlessly, so effortlessly, to a blind eye it would’ve been hard to tell that Jun wasn’t Dae’s twin.

“Both, if your nefarious activities and browser history was discovered, or dare a say, leaked?” Kwan raised an eyebrow.

“You think you scare me?” Dae-Seong asked. “Summer, 2012, what happened to you?”

“Why would you bring that up?” Kwan’s glare faltered, a subtle shift in her brow, the sneer dipping before returning at full capacity.

“We need to know what happened summer 12,” RM stated, voice low as he jotted down the date.

“You want to throw dirty laundry out into the open, might as well air yours,”

“Fuck you,”

“I didn’t start this,”

“Yes you did,”

“Jun-Seo, care to tell us what happened to you winter, 2014?”

“No,”

“I thought so,” Dae pointed his knife at each of them, “Before you go accusing me of being a fucking homo, check that I don’t have your history sealed and filed.”

“Did you get that?” RM asked.

“Yeah, got it,” J-Hope responded.

“And Euna,” Dae turned his attention to his youngest sibling, who sat quietly eating her food. “Don’t ever bring a bottom feeder home again, unless he’s going to eat my ass, you hear me? Or I will do to you what was done to Kwan-pussy-ass-Min.”

“Fuck you Dae,” Euna spewed.

“Excuse me?” He yelled, standing to his full height.

“I said, fuck you,” Euna repeated with a little more gumption.

“Oh Euna, little Euna, too smart for everyone, too polite and meek to ever be taken seriously, to fucking boring and oblivious to know that her boyfriend’s only date her for access or career status, so stupid that she can’t recognize that the only reason she’s getting the company is that she’s so incompetent, no one will believe her when –

“Dae-Seong!” Mr. Lee yelled.

“Don’t bring a fucking knife to a gun fight, Euna, I will end you.” He seethed.

“What is your problem with Yoongi? He’s the first man I bring home and you-

“What do you not understand about our family? What do you not understand about the caliber of person we need to be with in order to-

“What, watch porn, order sex workers and pray the gay away?” Euna yelled.

“Watch your tone,” Mr. Valentine said.

“You’re acting like you don’t have secrets, like your marriage is pure and good, it’s not Dae. I don’t blame her for leaving you, anyone with a modicum of sense would see that you are nothing more than a toxic, manipulative, alcoholic coke head, who only has his job because daddy loves him the most.”

“You think your relationship with Yoongi is going to be any different?” Jun-Seo spoke up, deflecting from the rising anger in Dae. “What makes you so special?”

“First, I love him,” Euna responded, earning a scoff and eyeroll from every member of the Lee family. “Second, if he makes it out alive from this dinner with you assholes, then he truly is the most resilient person in the world. Finally,”

“Thank fuck,” Jun-Seo exclaimed.

“Finally, he was raised to be kind and respectful, unlike the four of us,” Euna concluded with a haughty exhale and a glare at her mother.

“Wait – are you sure that’s not just Seokjin in a new suit?” Dae-Seong cackled, nodding at their father who also laughed.

“I hate this family,” Euna rose and tossed her napkin on the floor, a dramatic flair that sent her brothers and father into a fit of laughter.

“You act like you aren’t the ingrown hair on the taint of this family, and I think I speak for all of us when I say that I would love to extract you,” Dae said.

His words hung in the air as Euna walked out of the living room, Yoongi on her tail.

Catching up to her, Yoongi reached for her hand, which she hastily pulled away.

“Euna,” His voice was measured.

“Can we please just go?” She whispered, tears beginning to stream down her face.

“Yeah, can I just run to the bathroom quick? Grab the coats and I’ll meet you outside,” He pressed a kiss to her forehead before following one of the workers to the nearest bathroom. Hoping to shake the worker, Yoongi deftly exited the bathroom before wandering down the hall. He followed the sound of voices and stopped short of what he assumed was Mr. Lee’s office.

Mr. Lee stood next to Dae-Seong, a fresh glass of whiskey in hand. “Did you read the brief on UAE?”

“Yes,” Dae-Seong answered.

“I want your recommendations tomorrow by 9AM,” Mr. Lee instructed, “None of that pussy shit you drew up for Spain, either.”

“Pussy shit in Spain is child’s play in the Emirates. I’ll bring something, nuclear,”

“Don’t jerk me around like you do with your pathetic excuse for a cock, Dae. I do not want to have to fire you and replace you with Jun-Seo,” Mr. Lee slammed his glass down before retreating through a door Yoongi hadn’t seen when he’d glanced in.

“I’m sorry father, I will have the materials ready,” Dae’s voice was pathetic, deflated in the wake of his father’s anger. He hated being belittled and demeaned, hated the hurt his father hurled at him, the constant need for him to be better than everyone else. He hated how easily it came to Euna, how she could understand the numbers and draw connections within seconds of being presented with the problem. He hated Euna’s prowess, how businessmen and women flocked to her, a cello prodigy, ballet star in training, perfect grades, whored out to different branches so she could learn the business. Every fuck up Dae-Seong had made resulted in Euna’s success, and their father and mother, though more covertly, had egged his jealousy on.

Yoongi placed a mic on the inside of the door before slipping back into the hallway and out of the Lee estate, to Euna’s embrace.

“Your place or mine?” He asked as he sat in the driver’s seat of his car.

“Anywhere but here,” She responded, eyes blinking down tears as Yoongi drove.

Next: Searching for Seokjin Pt. 2

6 notes · View notes

itsuki-minamy · 4 years

Text

FOUR SEASONS OF K: “TRICK OR TREAT”

Translation: Naru-kun

Raws: Ridia

"Trick or Treat."

A boy's high-pitched voice resonates in the night city. It is the ghosts, witches, vampires and other things that do not exist in this world that cross the crosswalk. He put a lot of candy in the basket in his hand and spent the day.

Looking at the group from right to left, a boy in a pumpkin mask muttered.

"This is Jack, I've reached point Q. I'm ready to go!"

It looks like a pumpkin ghost, but inside is a cutting-edge head-mounted display with a modified "Jungle" mask. Of course, it also has the best communication devices. The other party's voice heard from the headphones was clear.

"This is the Wisp. Okay, Jack. Currently, the plan is on the way. Please wait as you are."

"Hey, what does that mean, Nagare?"

Spontaneously, Jack uttered such a thing, ignoring the codename that was originally decided for Sukuna and Nagare. Nagare listens to him immediately.

"Jack, I'm a Wisp now. Call me that."

"Hah... I understand, Wisp."

"And answering the question. This mission has a very significant meaning. I explained it beforehand."

"I know, but it is too easy."

Of course, there is nothing more to think about Nagare, the Green King. Whether local or global, you are determined to have great meaning. On the other hand, Sukuna sometimes thinks this way and starts doing stupid things that even elementary students do.

"It's too boring to just watch. Wasn't there a mission for the blues like this?”

Such a situation can occur. So you are there.”

"Can I take off this mask?"

"Negative. Today is Halloween, so wear it to the end. By the way, I also wear a Wimya Wisp mask."

He really murmured into his mouth. He thinks it is serious. There is no need for Nagare to hide his face in the "secret base", but he is not the one to speak.

Shizume-cho is a lively city even at night, but today it is stimulated. All the people who pass by are dressed in costumes, and the young people who are yelling from the bar are yelling in the street. Humans who are drunk on the street, even though they have not yet reached the top, are not alone.

Sukuna watches those scenes through the mask. Among the people who enjoyed Halloween, more than a dozen was highlighted in green. A young man in a vampire who laughs with a reddish face, a salaried worker leaning against a vending machine, and children pretending to be a ghost in white sheets are dyed green.

Members of the "Jungle" clan. Participants in this mission.

The time display in the upper right corner showed 23:59.

People highlighted in green begin to move. The young vampire says goodbye to his friends and leaves the office, the employee swallows the crowd and the ghost company rushes into the park. There was a high-pitched voice in his ear.

"Trick or Treat" is the name of the mission even in the virtual world. Please begin.''

At that time, the time display showed 00:00. Sukuna makes a clerical voice.

"It is understood. Five, with J-Rank authority, the mission begins.”

The HMD's integrated voice recognition system responded to the voice and sent a mission command to multiple ranges. After a few seconds of delay, Sukuna's vision of the people highlighted in green lifted the cookies all at once.

At high sound, the voices echo at the same time.

"Trick or Treat!"

At that moment, as if the player had fallen, the city of Shizume-cho was covered in darkness.

Sukuna gets up and starts walking.

The silence did not last for a second. After the buzz, a panicked voice rises.

"What is this? Blackout?"

"Ah, but is the terminal also down?"

"Why? Isn't it funny? The terminal has nothing to do with a power outage."

"You know me!"

"Oh, but does that person have a terminal?"

Sukuna checks the status of the mission while looking at the roaring people. As Nagare says, so far it is doing well. Now that the street lights, the electronic bulletin boards, the headlights of the cars and even the terminals where each individual has lost the light, Shizume-cho has become completely dark. And…

Between them, only the green light was scattered like fireflies.

Sukuna laughs. There was a giggle here and there in sync with it.

Members of the "Jungle" clan.

It was "Jungle" who caused this blackout on a large scale. An electromagnetic pulse attack using a Strain can temporarily knock down only some of the electronic devices that emit light. Of course, the terminals that the Clansmans have are not included.

The bright green fireflies roam and laugh as they move in the dark. Unlike most ordinary people, whose visibility and information are interrupted, they have the feeling of superiority that they can see it.

Sukuna says on the mask.

“Here Jack, Plan A was successful. Transition to Plan B."

"Confirmed. Go from point Q to point P."

"I'm already doing it."

Filtering in the dark, Sukuna jumped slightly. From the eaves of the cafeteria, holding onto the terrace fence and using an emergency ladder to climb up and reach the roof of the building in no time. Sitting on the hem and letting his feet dangle, Sukuna laughs behind the mask.

"Well, it's the beginning of the main event. Let Plan B. begin.”

Sukuna's voice is heard on an encrypted radio that activates a preloaded hacking program. The goal is a large screen view overlooking the intersection in Chinzume-cho. After a brief rush of noise, a green symbol appeared on the entire screen.

It is a symbol mark of "Jungle", a symbol designed with trees and nets.

All the humans in the place were looking at "Jungle". The only "significant thing" that appeared in the visual and informative darkness. Instinct burns it into memory before it can be understood by the head.

After exactly 5 seconds, the symbol changed to a parrot. The parrot created by the 3D model spread its wings wide and screamed.

"Kuwatsu!"

The spectators, illuminated by the green color, press their fingers. While distorting Katosaka and looking at him, Sukuna is looking at the elapsed time of the mission counted on top of the HMD.

The parrot deftly used its wings and bowed before the audience. Then he begins to speak in a fluent voice.

"Nice to meet you, my name is Jean Pitt, the "Jungle" mascot character. Thank you for your understanding!"

"This synthetic voice is created by sampling Kotosaka's actual voice. I'm sure."

Nagare added additional notes to his ear, Sukuna ignores him and looks around.

"Ah? It's a bit dark, isn't it? Everyone, aren't they in trouble? In that case, leave it to 'Jungle', leave it to us! If you include the 'Jungle' app, sudden power failure / hacking. EMP Attack. You can deal with such things in advance!”

"It's not too stupid, right?"

"There is big data that a little more stimulant is effective as a promotion."

The 3D modeling parrot spreads its wings, closes it, stays on the tree if you think he jumped, and never stops moving. People who do not know the circumstances have no choice but to follow their movements with their eyes.

He wonders what they think.

They would think it was a joke.

And you must be thinking at the same time... can you do this?

A city is sunk in darkness and a light is turned on in it. It attracts people's eyes and reports their claims. There is no law or discipline there. However, there is only freedom.

Of course, some people may be upset with this approach. However, just as ringing a bell that doesn't ring makes no sense, there is no point in promoting people who don't ring. Even if only 10% of people lurking in the dark are good, this mission is successful.

Jungle will do.

If you have "Jungle", you can do it yourself.

"Thanks for listening! Have a good night! Happy Halloween!"

The moment the parrot hit his wings, the parrot disappeared from the screen and at the same time the city lights were restored. Two seconds later, a deafening buzz flooded the streets, and 30 seconds later, the SNS was filled with the theme of "Jungle."

Sukuna reports as he looks at the timeline, which flows like a waterfall.

"This is Jack. Plan B has ended.''

"This is Wisp, confirmed. Prepare for Plan C."

Sukuna's eyebrows moved. The timer on top of the HMD stopped before he knew it.

Then the vehicle entered the intersection that was supposed to be a pedestrian paradise. When they stop in front of him, members of the Blue Clan, "Scepter 4" begin to appear everywhere. A Blue at the top holds a speaker and makes a provocative voice.

"We are 'Scepter 4'. We received a report that large-scale electronic terrorism has occurred here. We will begin an investigation based on the Unique Phenomena Management Act!"

The timer displayed on the HMD did not reach 5 minutes. Sukuna filters his thoughts.

"Huh. It was faster than expected."

"Yes. Or perhaps this situation was anticipated and personnel were assigned in advance."

This mission has two meanings. One is the "Jungle" promotion. Show power to potential people with a desire for power and want to be a clan member. And the other was a stress test in "Scepter 4".

How will they act if there is a massive terrorist attack? How fast can they respond? To confirm them, Sukuna and others carried out this terrorist attack. The appearance of the Blues was an unexpected situation.

However, such a thing is not known to the hangman. A young vampire, a drunk office worker, and a group of white ghosts were upset. A young man with a loudspeaker watches a boy trying to leave.

"People here! Don't move until the poll ends!"

The boy turned around with a clear reaction and ran away.

It's a bad move, Sukuna coldly evaluates. It came out in such a prominent way.

Of course, "Septer 4" would block the area around this place.

As expected, a new Blue appeared before the boy who tried to escape to the alley. He has already drawn the sword.

Even if they are the same Strains, Blues, and roughly Rank-1 small fish that have been trained, they have the readiness and fighting power.

Sukuna snorted and stood up.

This is also a promotion. The terrorist attacks that were carried out to show the potential of "Jungle" would only be a source of laughter if the "Jungle" clan member were caught. "Scepter 4", no, the "Blue King", will make this prey the show.

And the role of Plan C is to prevent it.

Sukuna's small body was ground like a cat. Jump off the roof and run towards the Blue that blocks the path with the force of a cannonball.

"Haha!"

Despite being in a combat position, the Blue's reaction was too slow. A green electromagnetic blade emerging from a long staff strikes him in the Blue's chest, and is instantly destroyed by a voltage close to an electric pistol.

Take a look at the stunned young man, Sukuna says.

"Let's go! Get your butt out of here.”

"Oh! Thank you."

The boy escaped to the back alley. If you're lucky, you can slide down the siege net and say, "It's going to happen. If you get caught, if you don't get caught in front of the crowd that doesn't hurt us, the promotion is successful."

The Blue that jumped out of the vehicle surrounded Sukuna. While drawing his sword, he was doing so at an early stage.

"A high rank has appeared! Looking for staff for special tasks!"

"There may be other combat personnel! Don't be discouraged!"

Behind the mask of the pumpkin, Sukuna licked his tongue. Hereafter is the bonus stage.

The more Blues you defeat; the more points you will get.

Swaying with a long staff like Engetsu, Sukuna gives a happy voice.

"Well, let's play! Trick or Treat!"

#K #k project #k stories #k fan clan #jungle #gojou sukuna #hisui nagare #scepter 4

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lifedxbt · 4 years

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//I wanted to do a more comprehensive post on how Tseng changed though his life so here?

Before he joined the Turks he was a shitty grumpy little Wutai teenager who generally didn’t get along with anyone.

He wasn’t particularly careful with his appearance and didn’t really care how people saw him. Rebellious teenager phase.

When he first joined the Turks, he hadn’t shed most of that teen angst. He tidied himself up a little but not much. He did shift the colour he used for his huadian from red to black to better suit his uniform.

He was aggressively antisocial - it was during the Wutai war and he got a lot of shit from other ShinRa employees. So he didn’t bother trying to make friends. But he did start trying to shed his accent and he stopped training in his Wutai martial arts.

This is how he looked when he first met Aerith as well.

A few years into the Turks, he was given the codename Tseng. By then he’d lot a bit of his natural tan - a mix of being inside more and Midgar generally getting less sun than when he grew up. (Post Meteor Fall he gets tanned again)

He started to come around to the other Turks, started to open up and warm up to interacting with others. But he also stopped ignoring the bigoted shit thrown at him and started lashing out in response.

Crisis Core! But also around when he stopped being considered a rookie.

When he truly started taking being a Turk seriously, he started wearing his ponytail. It made him look far neater, more professional.

This Tseng got to be happy. He had friends, he had people who he loved and cared for.

Square won’t let me have Tseng in a long ponytail but I run this blog I make the rules

This was around the point he was promoted to the leader of the Turks. Everything is going to shit. But his hair is pretty.

(The scene in CC where he tells Cissnei to bring Zack back alive would have had this hair)

This is just like, for a month. Right after he got spared from execution. I just needed to draw it cause its an in between stage

Current. He completely redesigned the aesthetic of the Turks. He had their uniforms updated, he changed his overall aesthetic to suit keeping his hair down. He had his ears pierced.

He just generally decided he wasn’t going to let anyone fuck with his Turks again.

#headcanon tbt #long post #[my art]

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masterofmagnetism · 4 years

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so you want to start a war || side a ( stark tower )

WHO: Lorna @mistressxfmagnetism, Alex @disarraycd, Emma @whiteqveendarling, Illyana @ofmagikandlimbo, and Tony @goldenavcnger WHERE: Stark Tower WHEN: August 2, 2020. 11 AM. WHAT: The Brotherhood makes the war between humans and mutants official, by way of a coordinated attack on New York in response to the Accords and resurrection of the SENTINEL program. The launch of the plan goes off perfectly--well, almost.

(In which Lorna and Alex show that they’re a fucking power couple, Emma slays the men of the room with like three words, Illyana shows off Scott the Demon Squirrel, and Tony stares down potential death while inebriated.

So nothing new, really. )

WORD COUNT: 3.8k TWs: mentions of past kidnapping and torture, murder mention

LORNA: There wasn't a time in Lorna's memory that she didn't know she was a mutant. Even before her powers had been prominent, she had known. There had never really been an option to hide. So it was only natural that despite her father not being a part of her life, she had followed in his footsteps nonetheless. Carving her own path in that direction.

Her tactics had been more defensive for the most part. Hiding people, moving them to safety. There had been protests too--and one that got her in serious trouble as a teenager--but she did most of her work in the Underground. But the Enforcers had torn that from her. Tried to break their network. So today was far from hidden. Today, she didn't just follow Erik's footsteps--she followed his lead. Today, they fought back in the open.

Lorna didn't wear the metal headband, created from the metal medallion gifted to her by Erik years ago, very often. But there never seemed like a more appropriate time than today. Unlike Magneto's helmet, it didn't block telepaths from her mind. Important when they were doing a two-pronged attack, relying on the signal.

She glanced at the others she was with--Alex, Illyana, and Emma--making sure they were ready to go. If it weren't them, she might be concerned. This was going to be risky, they had to all be all in and ready to fight for what they wanted. But she trusted Alex and Illyana with her life always, and Emma she trusted today.

ALEX: While his Mutant abilities manifested when he was quite young, but due to the manipulation of Nathaniel Essex he didn’t realize the power within him until much later in his life. Alex lived the first eighteen years of his life thinking that he was only Human. Upon discovering this wasn’t true, it was difficult for his parents to wrap their head around the news. Maybe they were afraid of losing another son, but they try to understand.

This is a cause Alex believes in — wanting to fight for what’s right for their people. He didn’t waste time suiting up and joining up with the others on his team. The Government thought making him register against his will would have made him fight for them on their side, but they were wrong. Alex would always side with Mutants every time.

His gloved hand adjusts some of the blonde hair faking over his mask and glances back at Lorna when their gaze meets. He trusts everyone in this room but that was obvious enough. Alex pulls his body away from the wall he had been leaning against, crossing his arms over his chest. “We ready to do this? I hope everyone has what they need.” There was a smirk on his face paired with his words as he looks at everyone in the group.

ILLYANA: Ever since her brother Piotr had been revealed to be a mutant she'd been mostly sure she was one too, or maybe it was more of a hope, but when she turned eleven she'd been proven right as her mutant power of controlling the stepping disks of Limbo manifested. Sometimes she wondered if she hadn't been taken to Limbo if she would have gotten some other power or if they'd be different. Of course Illyana wasn't a normal mutant, even before her mutant power had manifested she was a demon sorceress, she'd lost that part of herself around three months ago but she'd recently regained it and now she intended to use it to help the mutant cause.

It had only been about a week, maybe less, since Rogue helped her get her magic back and she hadn't really told anyone about it because it was so recent so she hadn't really used her magic again. Even if she was itching to use her powers again she was also worried about what could happen if she did, for now she decided to only rely on her mutant powers.

"Ready whenever you guys are" Illyana replied as she summoned a stepping disk on the floor in front of them. As soon as she did Scott, her demon squirrel came running towards her and climbed up Illyana to sit on her shoulder. "Fine," she sighed as she turned her head to look at him, “You can come, just stay close," she told him in demonic script, scratching him a little behind his ear.

LORNA: Lorna gave Alex a small smile as he pulled away from the wall. Reaching out to him, she gave his hand a squeeze. So many things could happen today, but Lorna was ready. There was no way this was going to go wrong. She wouldn't let it. For years they had all tried different ways, more peaceful ways, to get their message across. And all they had gotten in response was violence. Hatred. Fear. She'd been labelled a terrorist, attacked and ambushed. If they had their way, they'd throw her in the Raft. Lorna was tired of it. She could only imagine how her father felt after so many decades.

"Ready," she confirmed, stepping onto the disk beside Illyana. As the demonic... squirrel? leapt up onto Illyana's shoulder, she raised an eyebrow and snorted. That was unexpected. "Alright. Let's go."

Teleportation was something Lorna didn't think she'd ever get used to. Even for the split second it happened, it felt like cutting herself off from the connections she felt around her. But as disconcerting as it was, it was necessary for this. She blinked it away as they materialised at Stark Tower.

First things first: cut the power. They didn't need it right now, and it would hinder humans trying to counter them. Lorna raised her hands, and with a twist of her wrists sent out an electro magnetic pulse. Lights and computers sparked as they cut out, and it certainly drew attention to them as Lorna stepped off Illyana's disk.

"Where's Stark?"

TONY: Tony was a futurist. It was in his genetic makeup, in the very core of his being. Long before he even knew what the word meant, Tony looked out to the horizon, trying to predict what would be on the other side, and always coming up short. With all the IQ points in the world, with all of his degrees and all of his power and prestige and intelligence, Tony still didn’t know exactly what tomorrow would bring, and it fascinated him.

Of course, people were far more predictable than the world at large. Tony knew from the first time he met Erik Lehnsherr that he had a plan in place, that it would come to fruition much sooner than Ross and the Panel imagined. Tony also knew that at least some aspect of said plan would involve him. It was the logical choice. Go for the face of the Accords, send a message.

So he’d put a plan in place, one MJ, Mike, Roy, any and all of his employees knew now like the back of their hand. An evacuation strategy, one that was already set into motion when the lights flickered out and Tony could taste electricity in the air, when the arc reactor sped up in response. In the moments before the group arrived, Tony poured himself some whiskey over ice, slipped on a pair of his own adapted sunglasses, and crossed his legs on his desk, leaning back in his chair.

If he was going to be killed for a cause, he was going to die as he lived.

His cool facade was somewhat upended when he heard the words echo through the building, though. With a sigh, Tony pushed himself up from his desk, following FRIDAY’s instructions down several corridors before he came face to face with the attacker … herself?

Now that was interesting. “Wow,” Tony said, a small smile coming onto his face. “So it is true. I really see the family resemblance.” He turned to the other man — FRIDAY provided the codename Havok, though of course Tony knew that already. “On both counts.”

He took a long sip of his drink, and the smile faded. “Let my people go,” he said, “and I won’t cause any problems. Suit disengaged.” He held up his hand that wasn’t holding the glass, demonstrating the nanotech chip on his wrist flickering blue, then going dull. “I’m sick of being on the wrong side of history — and I’m a little drunk and on a whole boatload of painkillers for this migraine, so whatever you do will probably tickle.”

EMMA: Emma may have been many things but one thing one could always rely on was her desire to help her people. Whether they liked her or not did not bother her. Whether they cared for or wished she would just drop dead was not important. She had not carved her way this far to simply hide in the shadows. To not fight for her people. A change was coming and despite their friction, Emma and Erik agreed on one thing that made their partnership of the Hellfire Club make sense; that mutants would rise and no longer be hindered by the creations of man.

Feeling the others glance at each other, Emma remained stoic if not seemingly unbothered by it all. She was running through different scenarios in her head. She would love to tell them how wrong this could all go. That maybe they wouldn’t all make it but even she hoped that wouldn’t be the case. They were going to get what they deserved in her eyes and Stark Tower? Well, she had to admit, she took a little bit of personal pleasure of it being an Avenger of all people. People celebrated for the very things they were cursed and killed for. At Alex’s words, Emma smirked a little. “Careful darling. You almost sound excited. Not very Summers of you.” She chuckled.

As Illyana opened her portal, Emma stepped through. Well, if you could call it that, Emma walked with a strut. With a purpose. As they appeared in Stark Tower, Emma’s shoulders drew back, and her chin raised in a proud manner. She may not be an actual queen, but she sure carried herself as if she were. “Flawless, Illyana.” Emma commented on the smooth transition of getting them into Stark Tower.

At Tony’s words, Emma looked him up and down before making a sound of disgust under her breath. At his words, Emma stepped forward. “Tony, darling, unlike you homo sapiens who resort to such Neanderthal methods, mutants like to consider ourselves above such primitive actions.” As he mentioned that he had a migraine and their actions would barely tickle him, Emma chuckled. “Then again, I’m certainly not above sinking my manicure into that thing you dare call a mind.” She looked to the others after a brief pause. “Another time perhaps.”

ALEX: The blonde grabbing onto Lorna’s hand that was reaching out for him. He squeezes her palm in return, anything that they do would be done together. Which extends to the rest of their team as well, knowing that communication will be important with what they do going forward. His lips stretches into a smile for a moment, but Alex shifts his gaze to look over at Emma before stepping through the portal. “Very funny.” He chuckles as well, but his expression returning to a more serious one after materializing on the other side in Stark Tower. He knows this could land him back in the Raft again, but Alex doesn’t care because doing this feels right.

His arms are crossed over his chest for the time being, looking around briefly at the surroundings after the power is cut off. Alex brings his focus back so to watch Tony Stark approach them. There‘s a sense of pride in the fact people look at him and can see the resemblance of Scott in him. His older brother raised him more than their own parents did so wearing the Summers name will always make Alex feel proud. He even got rid of his adoptive family’s name when the Mutant was eighteen to wear the one that he was born with again as a way of feeling close to his older brother. “You sound a little speechless there, Stark. You should know what we’re capable of then by knowing our families.” He looks at the others for a moment, exchanging a few glances while managing a grin as his hands are repositioned on his hips.

His voice silent while listening to Emma and the way she responded to the demands for allowing the employees to leave. Alex doesn’t see why not, the Humans working here weren’t needed for what their intentions were in coming to secure the tower. “You won’t cause any problems? How can we be sure that you’ll stay true to your word if we let them go? Your tech might be turned off right now, but you’ll have to excuse me for being a little cautious.”

ILLYANA: When she was younger she'd had trouble with her mutant powers, either ending up in the wrong place, the wrong date or both, now though she easily teleported all of them to Stark Tower without any problems. "If I didn't know any better I'd say that was a compliment, Emma" the blonde commented dryly before she turned her attention to Tony. Though her attention was soon pulled to the demonic squirrel on her shoulder who had started lightly tugging on her hair. "Not now Scott, I'll get you something to eat soon" she told him, he didn't seem too happy but he settled down on her shoulder, for the moment at least, allowing Illyana to focus on the task at hand.

Tony said he wouldn't cause problems if they let everyone go, which sounded like a fair deal, though like Alex she was also cautious, not sure if he'd keep his word. "It's the building we want right? I say I just teleport them all outside and be done with it" she suggested, she didn't have much in the way of patience.

TONY: The situation was far from ideal, but it also wasn’t the worst case scenario he had planned for. Tony had always been a scorched Earth policy kind of guy. He was used to everyone being the worst version of a person they could be since he was a child. Erik’s people -- mutants -- hadn’t come into his Tower and burned the place to the ground. They hadn’t taken him as a hostage like the Ten Rings did, didn’t use him as a medal to wear around their necks. They’d allowed, for the most part, his employees to leave the building unharmed. All he had to do was negotiate to a level where the others were safe too, and they could take the marble staircases and burn his father’s grand piano and rifle through papers that he’d already sorted through, taking anything that was particularly sensitive to an undisclosed location before this ever went down.

He had a lot to lose. These people, they never had anything. That was the difference. Anything they wanted to do, Tony figured he deserved -- but he couldn’t let his people suffer for what he had done, for the system that he represented.

“You act like you’ve never probed my brain over steak, Emma darling,” Tony replied, but even his cavalier attitude couldn’t stand up against the people standing in front of him, gathered in a line debating internally what to do with him. “You make a fair point,” he said, gesturing to Summers, “and so does the, uh … Witch? Sorceress? Magic girl.” (He wasn’t thinking about magic right now. He did not need something else to add insult to injury.) “Teleport me and my employees outside. You say you don’t know whether you can trust me or not, but do that, and I’ll prove that I’m not working against you.”

Tony couldn’t say he was on their side. He couldn’t say that because he didn’t know what they’d been through. They didn’t want Tony Stark fighting for them. But he wasn’t against them. He would help if he could. “What you’re doing has been a long time coming,” he said, “but you didn’t need me to tell you that. I just … I hope you know that what I’ve done, I did because I wanted transparency. Openness. Accountability. I never wanted these robots in the air -- and if I can, when this settles down, I’d like to help you figure out how to stop it happening again, if you were interested.”

LORNA: Lorna didn't say anything as the people began to evacuate. It was clear that Stark had expected--or at least prepared for--some kind of attack like this. She raised her chin slightly as he seemed to take her in. Her reaction to the comment about family resemblance was not as proud as Alex's. Still, in this context, resembling the fearsome Magneto was not a bad thing. "It is," she confirmed. "And Havok is right. You know what we can do. You don't want to find out what the others can do too."

His 'let my people go' comment got an annoyed eyeroll from her. But she didn't say anything, letting Alex voice the same questions that rose to her mind. She didn't trust Stark. At all. He was the public face of these Accords as much as the politicians who pushed them through. Whatever his intentions, it didn't matter. Lorna had seen the way the Accords had allowed families to be torn apart, and innocent people to be attacked for what they were. Laura Kinney's sister disappeared after being arrested, Sam and his kid--a baby-- had been attacked. And it emboldened hatred. Every. Day.

Once upon a time, Lorna had believed in a dream of unity. Of mutants living peacefully among humans. But she'd grown weary of dreaming. Weary of hurting and hiding. Her father was right. "Magik is right," she said firmly. "We don't need him. And if he makes trouble for us, we'll handle it. We don't need hostages here." Not when the island of Manhattan would be their hostages, assuming Erik's plan went smoothly. "We'll let your people go. And you, Stark."

Lorna raised her eyebrow. "Well, congratulations on figuring out you're on the wrong side," she said wryly. "But I hope you're not looking for forgiveness." He could try somewhere else if he was, but Lorna was not in the mood. His offer made her just shake her head. "Flattering offer. I think we can figure it out."

EMMA: Emma scoffed under her breath. “I probed a lot more than your mind, Tony dear and to be expected from the track record of your life, inadequate at best.” Emma may be many things but she was perhaps one of the few people who could match Tony Stark’s sharp tongue with her own blow for blow. That had to be credited for something right? She left them to interact her gaze slowly drifting to Lorna. She nodded as she spoke. ”The way you are handling this is astounding. I am truly astonished, Miss Dane.” She always thought Erik’s spawn was a liability but Lorna was proving herself to perhaps be the strongest, something even Emma didn’t see coming.

Emma glanced back to Tony as he spoke about the act. “You need to remember darling, you Avengers may have not chosen the predicaments you are in but you aren’t prosecuted, experimented on and murdered for having them.” Emma told him firmly. She didn’t know how the others felt about her saying it but that was the facts she had seen it with her very eyes. The people she had lost. Naming grey hairs after dead friends and children. “Registering to your accords would mean simply registering for being born.” Emma explained before her facial expression became more icy if that was possible. “You may say you are not against us but don’t ever pretend that you and your people stood with us.”

Emma looked to Lorna and have her a small nod, showing her confidence in what she was saying. She couldn’t ever be more proud. “Pity we can’t keep him. I’d quite like a play thing to clean my boots.” Emma chuckled as if they were all just having a normal conversation. “Until we meet again as we always do, Mr. Stark.”

ALEX: There’s always a level of suspicion when it comes to Humankind claiming to side with his people. His own adoptive parents don’t always know how to support him, so how can Alex expect a complete stranger to act in his best interest? Although maybe it isn’t really to make his future better, but for the next generation and all Mutants. Which is why the blonde wasn’t so quick to believe Tony wouldn’t blast them when their backs are turned. While they could handle such an attack — that isn’t how Alex hoped this would go. He doesn’t think all Humans are bad.

His blue eyes watch as the employees are leaving the building, some running in a hurry as if their time was almost up. Although turns back to the man standing before the four of them. “I agree with them on this.” His hands gesturing to Lorna and Emma. “When have your kind ever done anything to help us while we were being hunted in the streets? When they went after our children?” His mind flashes to Josiah who was just a baby and it makes him so angry, but keeps his composure. He inhales to take a deep breath while letting the others put in their own two cents.

“You and your staff can go. We didn’t come here to take hostages. You won’t get forgiveness from me either though.” His eyes look to Illyana, nodding as if you say that if she wishes to teleport Tony out of the building maybe now was the time. Along with any of the other employees who haven’t gotten out yet.

He feels a sense of pride in how well the four of them are handling this, but was there really any doubt?

ILLYANA: She wasn't really interested in whatever apology or excuses Stark had, it wouldn't change anything and so she mostly ignored him. When Alex told Stark that he and everyone else could leave and nodded at Illyana she went over to stand next to Tony. "I'll be back in a few minutes" she told the others then turned to Tony "try to stay inside the circle if you want to keep all your limbs" with that she conjured a stepping disk under their feet and teleported them away. She went through the entire building until everyone of Tony Stark's employees were teleported outside before returning to Alex, Lorna and Emma. "It's done, we're the only ones left in the building."

For now, at least.

#c: alex summers #c: lorna dane #c: tony stark #c: illyana rasputin #c: emma frost #f: discord #d: so you want to start a war ( side a )

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

Codename: Candy

Part Twenty-Four - Base of Operations

Word Count - 2155

Author’s Note: Here we go! The end is nigh, and I hope you are all excited! Little bit of Mike November this chapter too, the bean. A continuation on last chapter’s trigger warning on sexual assault, as it is mentioned.

There are few occurences in one's adulthood that a person dislikes their name. As a kid, perhaps cruel nicknames make someone wish for a new name, but if someone really hates their name so very much as an adult, they have the ability to change it. That being said, Mike November had always liked his name, he really did. It was the sort of name people remembered, and it reflected who he was as an individual rather well. The thought of his name only came into the picture when he realised the terrorist they were chasing shared the same Christian name of Michael, but it was an afterthought at most.

He stood with a team of fifteen officers, a microphone attahced to his body as the team sorted the final touches of their startegy before Jack and Greer hit the ground in Riyadh. A decision had been reached while the pair were in the air that Mike, being the man with the most informed team, should lead theof operations instead of the Saudi Arabia Embassy. As such, the conference room had once again become a hub, with employees darting in and out, or tirelessly working through floor plans of the Prelude conference building and personal information on the Rolands.

"Sir, Doctor Ryan and Greer have landed, suiting up now. We should have visuals and audio within the next ten minutes." Josh informed Mike, who nodded in approval, taking a sip of his coffee as his research head, Erin, walked him through the floor plan one more time. Mike would be dictating to the pair through their headsets, and needed to make sure his directions were correct.

"What about building surveillance? Do we have access yet?" Mike asked, and Josh nodded over to Rhona, who quickly pulled up cameras of the main points in the building. It was bizarre, being a voyeur of such a high-ranking group of officials from across the globe, but Mike shook it off. He watched with a tilted head, and as the visual from Jack and Greer's body cameras filled the second half of the big screen, Mike spotted the Secretary of State, accompanied by a raven-haired woman.

"Can we get a check on that official, any way to enhance her face?" Mike asked, and Rhona nodded.

"Just a moment sir..." She muttered, typing away at her computer. She pulled an image from the live feed, and while the image was grainier than preferred, Mike looked it over. It took him a minute to realise, thanks to the scars poking out of her blouse, that it was indeed Candy.

"Jesus..." he muttered, rather shocked by how different she looked compared to only a day before.

"Everything good, Mike?" Jack's voice came through the speaker, and visuals of Greer running to a car came on screen.

"All good. Lieutenant Jones has altered her appearance, be warned. Short black hair and brown eyes. Navy pant suit. She's with the Secretary now." Mike narrated what he could see on the building's live feed to Jack and Greer.

"Good. Keep us updated, we should be there in ten minutes." Greer spoke up, his camera showing the car speeding off the airstrip tarmac. Mike hummed in response, and turned back to the team.

"Has anyone managed to get in contact with the building yet?" He called out. They had been attempting to get in touch with the Embassy in Saudi, as well as the conference building, but no calls had gone answered yet. He sighed at the lack of response. "Looks like you will be in charge of evacuation boys... The only time we need people to pick up phones and they don't."

"We can handle that Mike." Jack said, Greer's camera catching the smile on the man's face.

"Sir, Secretary is on the move!" Rhona announced, and mike fixed his gaze on the live feed. Candy had walked out into the corridor, and the Secretary followed out with a soldier and unknown individual after a few moments.

"Change the camera, we need to see that corridor!" Mike ordered, and one of Rhona's teammates pulled it up for them. Candy was talking to the three men, and after a minute or two, the Scretary and Gates headed back inside.

"Talk to us Mike, what's going on?" Greer asked as Candy pulled out her gun on the unidentified man.

"Shit... I think Candy may have just found one of guys... Secretary is back in the conference room. Rhona, do we have anything for... They're on the move. Find me footage for the stairwell." Mike called, and the car pulled to a stop. Jack and Greer jumped out, and armed with concealed weapons, they flashed their badges at the door and rushed into the building.

"Greer, go to the Secretary. Mike, give me something. Where is Candy?" Jack called over the voices inside, looking for a door to exit through. The feed of the staircase was finally up, and the room went quiet, watching events unfold. Lieutenant Jones was stood still as the unidentified man began kissing her, followed by what Mike and the team could only assume was a rather painful slap. They disappeared through the door at the bottom of the staircase.

"To your left, bottom corner. Through the doors and down the corridor. Turn right and take the staircase. And Jack, bring guns." Mike suggested, and Jack walked over to two of the armed soldiers stationed. "Uh, Jack? Is there anything else we should know about Jones in relation to this case?" Mike asked, and Jack slowed down.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, our suspected Roland just... Just kissed her." Mike asked, confusion clear in his voice.

"Ex-husband... Shit, it is them." Jack muttered, his pace picking up. "You two, follow me." He ordered, and the pair nodded, being led by Jack into the corridor and breaking into a jog.

"Where is my feed?" Mike called, and Rhona let out a few curses under her breath.

"Sir, the cameras are gone. Shot out or otherwise. Doctor Ryan is going in blind..." She announced, loud enough for Jack to hear over the headset.

"Mike, you focus on sorting out the evacuation. I'll be fine." Jack assured, his camera showing he and his two armed military personnel at the top of the staircase.

"Right... Greer?" Mike spoke, beginnign to pace.

"Here, Mike. I have found the Secretary." Greer responded.

"It's confirmed, Rolands are in the building, you need to evacuate." Mike ordered, and Greer responded with a hum.

"Jones used the code word with the Secretary. We'll start now." Greer informed, and could be heard and seen announcing the evacuation to the room. Almost instantly, military personnel descended to protect their own country's ministers, and troops marched out under the orders of Protocol 643: terror threat.

Jack tried his best to steady his breathing as the trio of men stood at the base of the staircase, the door before them. What lay behind it was uncertainty, and Jack made a point to check his gun was loaded, encouraging the two soldiers to shoot to injure.

"Mike? Can you still hear me?" Jack asked, the crackling in his ear having increased the further into the building he went.

"Yes. We have visuals, also." Mike confirmed, and Jack let out a deep breath. With a hand on the door, he nodded for confirmation from his two soldiers. The nodded back, and the first slipped through the door, armed and checking to give the all clear. A gesture led the other two into the corridor, which extended both left and right.

"Jack? The floor plan shows the basement is a loop." Mike informed.

"Any rooms of interest?" Jack asked quietly, the three beginning a slow walk to the right.

"The servers are the third door to your left, ventilation is further down, fourth door on your right. Garage entrance is down there too, end of the corridor once you turn the corner." Mike said, when all of a sudden a gunshot was fired. Jack tensed for a moment, and yelling followed, muffled but still very much there.

"Sir, let us." One of the soldiers insisted, taking the turn for themselves first, Jack following. They quietly moved forward, toward the screams, the fourth door on the right. The first soldier, with the patch naming him Dante, indicated for the other two to stay back, and Jack pressed himself inside a door frame, the second soldier, Wilson, taking the doorframe ahead of him.

Dante took a deep breath, and with his gun raised, Jack watched him barge his full body against the door, sending it flying open. Another gun shot sounded, and Jack wathced Dante's body fall back into the corridor.

"Don't even try it, boys. Guns down." A voice called, and Jack felt his blood boil as he watched Michael Roland exit into the hallway, armed, lifting the rifle from Dante's body and then passing his previous weapon to Thomas, who followed him out. "I can assure you I'm a darn good shot." Michael called, and Jack threw his pistol into the middle of the hall, nodding for Wilson to do the same. The pair rose from their door frames, hands raised, and Jack took a good look at his competition.

Thomas was sporting a black eye and busted lip, and Michael had stemmed a bleed in his leg with his belt. Jack couldn't help but feel proud that the shot they hear dearlier was Amelia on the attack, and she clearly got a good few hits in on both of them.

"Hm..." Michael tilted his head, looking the pair over. Thomas glanced at him, and back at Jack and Wilson, before lifting the pistol in his hand and firing a shot straight into Wilson's head. Jack's fists clenched, and he closed his eyes. He couldn't look. Thomas disappeared back into the room after that, but Michael stayed in the corridor, still looking Jack over.

"Have we met before?" Michael asked, causing Jack to look up, his eyes fixed in a glare on the man. After a few seconds, Michael smiled wide, letting out a few laughs. "No shit! Jack Ryan, is that really you?" He beckoned Jack forward, and Jack walked towards him, kept at gun's distance.

"Do I know you?" Jack asked, and Michael looked confused for a moment before nodding, figuring something out in his own head.

"Of course, I wouldn't show up on your research, CIA wiped me from it all. We trained together, bootcamp." Michael revealed, looking him over. "Got to be honest, I have contacts within ISIS, talked about 'The Analyst' as if you were some sort of Grim Reaper. And then with Venezuela, when I got confirmation that 'The Analyst' was head of T-FAD at the CIA, and that it was you... I wouldn't say I was shocked, maybe pleasantly surprised. You would have had a great career if it wasn't for that crash." Michael explained, gesturing for Jack to head into the room. Jack did, trying not to focus on the amount of information the Rolands knew about him, and instead figure out what the fuck to do next.

And he saw her.

On the floor, beside more explosives than Jack could count, Amelia lay unconscious, her now black hair matted by blood, and her nose bleeding in such a way that Jack knew it was broken. Her wrists had been tied behind her back with her blazer, and her shirt below had been ripped open to expose her chest. But her trousers were still on, and Jack could only assume she had fought the men off before they had the chance to sexually assault her.

Thomas was packing a bag in the corner, his eye swelling up and shutting.

"Michael, we need to go now." Thomas said, walking behind Michael and into the corridor. Michael stood for a few seconds, a wicked smile across his face.

"Get to the car Tommy. I have something to do first." Michael told his brother, who ran down the corridor without hesitation. Michael approached Jack, lifting his gun and jabbing the butt into Jack's abdomen, causing the doctor to double over before swinging for Michael's legs. Michael dodged, hitting Jack once again, this time in the back, and Jack fell to the cold concrete. He felt a heavy foot on his back, Michael leaning down and ripping the cord of his ear piece away from his head, and nudging Jack onto his back with the gun, smirking as he saw the damaged camera that sat over the doctor's right pec.

"Bastard..." Jack whispered, and Michael laughed as he limped out of the room.

"Just be grateful you'll be dying instantly." Michael slammed the door shut on Jack, and after jamming it shut with the gun, he fled.

"I really hope you're getting this Mike..." Jack muttered into his headset, now completely shot, his camera showing the damage of Michael's throwing it to the ground. But Mike was, and upon seeing enough explosives to raze a city through the glitching camera beside Candy's limp body, and seeing a red light timer start counting down as the camera went to black, Mike decided he hated his name.

#jack ryan x reader #jack ryan x female oc #female oc #tom clancy #john krasinski #fanfiction #fanfic #thriller #romance #cia #florence pugh #us army #army #codename candy #part twenty-four

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valkblue · 4 years

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OC Bio —

Tagged by the one and only @pheedraws !! ✨ Tagging @hathorik , @jerneblomster , @noonvvraith , @isilrina and whoever else wants to do (or need!) this for their own ocs!! Please, have fun!!

— The Basics

Full Name: Vivian Emerson Codename: Ivy Birth Date: May 30th, 2018 Birth Place: Coventry, UK Nationality: British/American Organization/Group: Delos (employee) Former Affiliations: none

— Family and Friends

Father: Paul Mother: Helen Siblings: Sophie (younger sister) Other Relatives: grand-parents (back in the UK) Spouse: none Children: none

— Description

Height: 5′7 Weight: 133 lbs Hair Color: dark brown, nearly black Eye Color: blue Skin Color: caucasian

Any Scars?

riding a bicycle was hard at first, and her knees could tell how much.

baseball and ice skating were way easier but also left their marks: she sanded her arms and elbows on baseball dirt so often that they’re rough and twisted her ankles on the ice more than she’d care to admit.

more recently, she got scars on her right wrist and palm after a shoutout gone slightly wrong in the park...

Any Tattoos? She toyed with this idea for some time, back in school and in the institute, but... in the end, she didn’t get any.

Any Piercings? Unlike tattoos, it never appealed to her. She had her ears pierced as a kid, tho.

Other Notable Features: No freckles on her face but some on her back.

Random Fact: During her teenage years, she dyed her hair often, and in various colours and style, cutting it short/shoulders length for quite some time until not having the time or the fancy to keep doing it anymore.

#tagged #ocs #oc:vivian #her scars are more emotional than physical maybe #but she had a pretty peaceful childhood overall

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agent-yolk-writes · 5 years

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Friends Like You and Us - Venom!Reader - Ch. 6

I really gotta post this after I updated it on AO3 goddamn

In today’s episode: The gang puts too much thought into planning, you have terrible codenames, and you wonder if the circus is in town.

Don’t forget to reblog so others can see it! If you want something featured, don’t be afraid to drop an ask. We’re almost around the halfway point and it’s all downhill from here. Get your thoughts in now or forever hold your peace,

AO3 Version | Masterlist (TBD)

After scrambling to figure out a plan and translating interdimensional slang, the plan goes as follows:

1. You enter the building with Ham in a backpack. Peni has hooked all of you guys with little telecommunicators that can fit into your ear. They look like they can be passed off as the cool new earbuds you’ve seen your classmates wearing.

1a. Peni, SP//dr, and Noir will be outside as backup should anything happen along the way.

2. Get through the guards by showing your ID, which indicates a trusted employee of the building, Mary, has granted an outsider, you, permission to enter the building and their individual office. That’s it, that’s your only access.

3. While you do what your aunt asked you, Ham goes in the vents and finds a way into the Alchemax section upstairs. There he’ll find anything that could help figure out what happened to Spider-Man.

From there, depending on the situation, it could go two ways.

4a. Ham retraces his footsteps in the vents and gets back to your aunt’s office.

4b. If Ham needs to be recovered, you’ll “accidentally” stumble into Alchemax, claim you’re trying to find the bathroom, to retrieve Ham and any data he managed to recover.

5. Leave without raising any suspicions, if possible.

A simple plan in five or so steps. You’re taking the usual subway route to her office with Ham squished inside your mini backpack. It’s uncertain what Peni and Noir are doing above ground, but you could imagine them hopping between buildings in a cool montage like that cool cartoon of those ninja lizards. Thankfully this cart was almost packed to the brim, so no one can see, Ham included, tendrils wrapping around your hand and giving a comforting squeeze as if someone was actually holding your hand.

You got this. We believe in you.

I...I dunno. It sounded too easy in my apartment.

We can handle anything that comes our way.

“I sure hope so.” You muttered, glancing at the people close by to see if they’re looking at you. Swinging your bag around so it’s hanging in the front, you subtly zipped open the bag to look at the cartoony companion. At the sign of first light, he hisses at the sudden stimulation by squinting his eyes for a few seconds.

“Are we there yet?” He asks, a bit bored.

You glanced over at the display showing how many stops are left. “Not for another stop or so. How are you feeling in there?”

Ham sighs at the response. “I knew I should’ve brought something to read.” He pulls out a sleeping mask and puts it over his eyes.

“It’s either this or waste SP//dr’s fuel but doing about three trips back and forth.” You could feel some glances over your way, so you lower your voice a bit. “Anyone with a phone is going to post it on Twitter and we really don’t want that. Especially if it’s going to be on Insider Edition tonight.”

Your communicator buzzes to life, even with all the concrete around you.

“Actually, it’s powered by the psychic link between me and my spider friend in the suit.” Peni corrected you.

“There’s a spider...in the suit?” You said with genuine surprise.

“Hey now, you didn’t ask.” Well, she has a point there. “Oh heads up, here comes your stop.” As if on cue, the overhead speaker announces your stop. It doesn’t help your heart kicking up a notch in anticipation. A thousand scenarios are running through your head as you tried not to give Ham a whiplash putting your bag in its proper place. You even straighten out your blouse as you exited the subway train. Despite only being bonded for a week, it felt strange wearing clothes outside of your symbiote. All there’s left is to pray to your not-so empty head that everything can and will go right for a simple infiltration.

“This is Black Spider. I’m in position.”

“Spider Pig here. Let’s get this show running.”

“Mecha Spider is ready when you are!”

“This is Classic Spider, cruising for a bruising on the bench.”

…

You should’ve opposed to using codenames. This is an in and out, not an actual heist. If anything, you could’ve at least used different spiders to call each other by. It’d make sense if you refer to yourself as, for example, Black Widow rather than Black Spider. In the end, it’s all apples to pears.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled on the ID card you knew was on you just to make sure it's really there. It doesn’t go bad for another year, so they can’t stop you by saying it’s expired. If one of your aunt’s coworkers spotted you, then the suspicious glares from security will weaken. They swap floors every six months or so for security purposes. You haven’t been in the building proper since...ten months ago. Hopefully, that retired Sergeant got mobilized to the main floor. If he got moved to Alchemax, then you’ll have to pray for Ham’s safety-

Said spider-pig poked his head out. “What about my safety?”

“Nothing.” With Venom’s help, your arm pushed your smuggled package back into your back of the cramped bag. With Venom’s sixth sense you can almost feel Peni and Noir staring down from the roof of a neighboring building. “Let’s go.” With a shaky step, you begin your ascent up the stairs and entered the revolving door.

To your left, you see the guest desks and the CCTVs in an open room behind the woman at the desk. She had her head down, so she’s probably on her phone. Directly in front of you is the series of elevators being guarded by a single security guard, a glorified elevator worker if anything. You vaguely remember him, but it might not be the same vice versa. Through the handful of people coming in and out, you make your move to the first elevator open.

Your aunt’s workplace is one of the higher floors, so it’s going to be a while in this metal death trap. It became empty quicker than you expected, not that you don’t mind.

“What’s your status Black Spider, Spider Pig?” Peni said through the communicator.

“Entering the building was a success, no complications so far.” You whispered back. You try not to stare at the camera you know is staring at you in the corner. ”Pretty much going to be a smooth ride up.” Was the last thing you said before said smooth ride came to a halt at a different floor.

Oh no, someone else is coming up.

If you don’t make eye contact and shuffle to the side, maybe they won’t-

“Oh look, it’s you.” Oh no, it’s her.

You forced your eyes to look at one and only Stacy Adams from your school. She’s a senior, just a year above you. She’s one of the most popular people in your school and like every high school movie out there, she thinks she’s the queen of the institution. The only reason she could be here is that senior intern experience your school offers where seniors spend three of the five day school week learning. To your chagrin, it looks like today is one of those days.

She hates your guts for some reason. You couldn’t recall what you did to piss her off. Maybe she got jealous of you a guy that just so happens to be a friend of your friend. You did, however, ate her boyfriend aka the top varsity football player bound for Ohio State, so there’s that. In your defense, he attacked you.

We should eat her as well.

Shush, you.

You eyed the security camera in the corner.

Not yet.

“Hey, Stacy...weird meeting you here, huh?” You mustered up whatever you can to pretend you’re happy to see her.

“It’s weird meeting you here.” She shoots back. “Should I report you for skipping school to trespass?”

“Unlike your daddy’s money, I actually know people here.” You replied before you could process it. So much for putting up a fake front.

Stacy, of course, wasn’t having it. “You don’t need to know people if they’re hiring a fucking clown.”

“A fucking clown? Oh wait, is that who you’re seeing after Kyle basically ghosted you? Wooow Stacy, how faithfu-“ You didn’t get a chance to finish it when a handmade sharp contact with your cheek. You weren’t sure if the sting was from the palm or the sharp nails she raked across your skin for extra damage.

Your heart was beating so loud in your ears. Whether it was Venom’s boiling rage or your own, it almost affected the next step you were about to do. If it wasn’t for Peni bringing you back to Earth with, “-ck Spider, is everything alright in there?” in your ear, you would be deep in bloodshed.

Instead, you calmly removed your earpiece and stuffed it into your bag. You hope she notices the unhuman bend of your arm.

“Look, I don’t have time for you.” You said lowly, voice borderline a growl. “I’m going to do my thing, you’re gonna do your thing, and then you’ll continue to pop your gum loudly every time I even blink in your direction. Got it?”

Stacy stares at you like you grew two heads on the spot. Your cheek tickles a bit as Venom heals the scratch marks.

She started sputtering some nonsense to try and get something in before the elevator finally slowed down to your aunt’s floor. Time to finally get out of this cramped box.

But first…

As you took a step out of the elevator, you couldn’t help but turn around to face her one last time.

“Oh, by the way…” You said with a growing devious grin. “Kyle’s brain was absolutely delicious.” Venom couldn’t help but join in at the last second, but it got the results that you wanted. Stacy tried charging at you but the closing doors were quicker. You could hear her banging at the door all the way up. Ah, you’ll remember the face she made. You wonder if her boyfriend had that same expression.

Ham decided to pop his head out once you used your aunt’s card to get into the bathroom. He had a sponge lodged into his ears that managed to take out by pulling it out of one ear with a comical pop. You’re too

“Geez, took you long enough. Thought the catfight was gonna take foreeeever.” He complained.

“Well sorry for having enemies, I guess.” You replied as you readjusted your communicator. “This is Black Spider. Um...Sorry that I went AWOL there. Bumped into a rather unpleasant classmate of mine in the elevator.”

“About time! Thought about going in there thinking you croaked.” Noir’s voice crackled through his mic.

“Weren’t you able to hear anything from Ham’s mic?”

Peni answered your question with, “The microphone is designed to cancel out any background noise so whoever’s talking into it can be heard. You’ll never find anything better for noise cancellation!”

The wonders of the future could not be thanked enough.

You pushed Ham’s head back in the bag at the sound of the bathroom door unlocking for someone else. This is your cue to leave and head to your aunt’s office.

The first phase of the plan is now successful. Now that the second part is about to be achieved, you’re looking forward to the idea of getting away without being caught. Well, you almost did, but that doesn’t count in your books.

It should be smooth sailing from here, right?

...Right?

#spiderverse #spidersona #x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse & reader #spiderverse x reader #venom x reader #venom & reader #venom symbiote x reader #venom symbiote & reader #venom/reader #venom symbiote/reader #reader insert #my writing #friends like you and us

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