#i also gotta carry those on a train back home so uh. wish me luck. sure hope i don't get attacked by a demon]] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

winter prompt fill 5, indruck, nsfw?

5: your car slid into a snowbank and i’m the mechanic that comes to tow you

Two hours.

Two fucking hours, that’s how far this guy is from town. But because he’s three hours from the one to the west, it’s Duck’s company that got the call from AAA for a tow. On night three of what's forecasted as a week-long snowstorm. And because it’s that kind of job, the call came in at 4:45 pm. At least he’ll get overtime for this.

Being out of Kepler means the radio has real stations, half of them playing blocks of pop hits and the other half blaring Christmas carols. Duck doesn’t mind either, settles on listening to crooning about sleigh bells and winter wonderlands as he tries to keep the truck from sliding into snow piles.

He’s all prepared to be aggravated at whoever was clueless enough to get themselves stranded and stick him with the four hour round-trip, but the closer he gets to his destination the more he sympathizes. Because this is a rural two-lane highway and not a major through-road, the maintenance is spotty at best. Couple that with the still-falling snow and he’s just glad the guy was in the kind of accident where he could still make a call after it.

The last half-hour he’s down to thirty miles an hour, lets out a groan of relief when the dead taillights of a car reflect back at him. Once he positions the truck and hops out, he rolls his eyes; the sedan doesn’t have snow tires or chains on, something even a person with a Nevada license plate should have known to carry north.

Duck wonders if being unprepared is a habit when the driver steps out in far too light a coat for the weather, shuddering and stuttering out an “Th-thank g-goodness.”

“Guessin you’re Mr. Wilde?”

Pale hair falls over red glasses as the man nods. With his hood up, he looks owlish, guarded. He’s all limbs and edges, and Duck can’t help but think of a stray cat that needs a warm bed and some food.

“Go ahead and get up into the passenger seat. Heat ain’t runnin, but it’s sure as heck warmer than out here. I’ll get her hitched up and we can get going.”

Another nod, the man hunching forward as he scurries into the truck. This is the easy part, getting the damaged car hooked to the truck and freeing it from the snow. The hard part comes when they turn towards town, two hours of darkness and icy roads ahead of them.

“I’m so sorry you had to come all this way. I, ah, did not intend to crash, nor to do so this far from help.”

“Hey, it’s what we’re here for. Gonna be slow goin on the way back, since it’ll be real fuckin embarassin to call a tow truck for a tow truck.”

A snicker, “I picture them as growing exponentially larger, like nesting dolls. A tow truck towing a tow truck towing a tow truck towing a car would be the size of a semi.”

Duck chuckles, “Yeah, it’d be a sight. And a fuckin nightmare for anyone who got behind it.”

The cab is warming nicely, so his passenger pulls back his hood. In the darkness he can tell the pale hair is metallic silver, and there’s a hell of a bruise blooming on his forehead. Duck’s never seen anyone quite like him, and if their survival didn’t depend on his concentration, he’d spend the next hour studying him.

“Damn, got banged up in the crash huh.”

“Yes.” The man gingerly touches the bruise, sighs, “It’s my own fault for being careless.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, nearly spun out on the way to get you from the damn black ice.”

“I wish I could say that was the sole cause, but I was also asleep.”

Duck bites back the urge to scold him; he wants him to be comfortable around him and besides, even if Duck is having a crappy night, this guy is having an even worse one.

“Wouldn’t be the first person who thought they could make it one more town before stoppin for the night and was wrong.”

“True. It’s just that, ah, I’ve been driving three days straight without sleep.”

“Jesus Christ, you on the lamb or somethin?”

In his periphery, he swears the taller man flinches.

“No. Just having bad luck with a chaser of poor choices.”

“Gotcha.” Duck drums on the wheel, “so, uh, Mr. Wilde, what do you do when you ain’t stuck in the snow?”

“I draw. And Indrid is fine…” he peers awkwardly at Duck’s name tag, “Duck.”

“It’s a nickname.”

“Ah. Are you a mechanic as well as a driver?”

“Yep. Do it part-time when I’m not workin at the national forest. Friend of mine, Ned, runs the garage attached to the Cryptonomica.”

“I recall seeing that when I drove through. Quite the Jacks of all trades, you two,”

“Most of Kepler’s got more’n one job. It’s the kind of place that’s always losin fundin or people, just barely stayin afloat.”

“One sympathizes. Do you like your jobs?”

“Trained in forestry, so it’s always what I’ve wanted to do. The mechanic stuff,” Duck shrugs, “nice workin with my hands and beein able to help folks out. And I ain’t half bad at it.”

“I certainly appreciate your efforts. I--wait, hold on, I’m sorry but I need to…” he turns up the radio, playing what Duck assumed was Santa Baby from the melody.

“He is saying ‘buddy.’ What in the world? Why would you change it?”

“Can’t have the fella in the red velvet suit thinkin you’re gay.” Duck jokes.

“Heaven forbid.” Indrid smiles, and Duck likes the expression so much he decides to see if he can get him to do it again.

“You wanna hear a slightly inappropriate joke?”

“Absolutely.”

“How come Santa don’t have any kids?”

“How come?”

“Because he only comes once a year and it’s down a chimney.”

There’s a beat and then Indrid guffaws, covering his face with his hands as his whole body shakes with amusement, “that was horrible, do you have any more?”

Thank god he’s got a wealth of bad jokes tucked in his brain. When he exhausts those he and Indrid trade brainteasers, stopping now and then to talk about their lives. The taller man asks Duck about his jobs, about the woods, and the town, and offers a few anecdotes in exchange. Duck senses they’re about they’re set in a time in his life that’s further away than Indrid would like.

Indrid also readily shares the snacks from his small backpack. Duck eats what he can while still safely piloting the car. Then nearly takes them across the yellow line when Indrid unwraps a Starburst with his tongue, and prays the man will stay in Kepler long enough for Duck to take him to dinner.

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

Given he was expecting a painfully awkward trip at best, Duck’s friendliness is a welcome surprise. Now that they’ve been stuck in the car together for close to two hours, Indrid is confident saying this is most fun he’s had talking to someone in a long time, even before things went all to hell.

It helps that Duck is the picture you’d get if you googled “Indrid Cold’s type”; sturdy, handsome in an unassuming way, undoubtedly pleasant to cuddle, with muscles that Indrid is positive could hold him up against a wall for at least a few minutes. In another life, one that’s so far away he fears he imagined it, he’d wait until they were done with the business portion of this evening, then slip Duck a card with his name in silver letters and his hotel room number on the back. The man is so genuine in his kindness too, Indrid feeling safer in the dark with him than he’s felt in years.

Which makes him feel even worse about what he’s going to do.

“Not too far now.” Duck turns the windshield wipers up a notch, “thank fuck for that.”

Indrid curls forward, holding his stomach, “I, ah, I really hate to say this, but I’m afraid my gas station lunch is coming back up.”

“Shit, okay, lemme pull over.” Duck guides the truck onto the side of the road, “do what you gotta do.”

His hands are on his lap, keys still dangling from the ignition. Indrid lunges over, grabbing them and trying to shove Duck into the door in one go. The mechanic is too fast, yanking the keys to his chest.

“What the fuck man!?”

“I’m so sorry about this!”

“Then fuckin stop!” Duck kicks, misses, and Indrid knees him in the stomach as gently as he can.

“I can’t, I need the truck.”

“Are you fuckin car-jackin me right now?”

“It’s not personal.” He gets the keys away, only for the world to flip ninety degrees as Duck tackles him backwards.

“It sure feels like it is!”

Indrid hoped that his survival instincts would kick in hard enough to make up for the exhaustion and that coupled with the element of surprise would bring him success. Instead, his limbs have no power behind them, and all he can do is curse when the driver flips him onto his stomach, trapping his hands behind his back and pinning him with his body weight.

“Fuck.” It’s a pathetic noise for a pathetic man.

“Explain. Now.” Duck growls.

“I, I, you were right when asked if I was on the lamb.”

“....fuckin what?”

“It was a set up, and I finally, finally got free, and, and I will not go back, I can’t, but if I’m out a car I need a replacement and-”

“And you almost stole a truck that’s got a goddamn tracker in it.”

“Oh.” He presses his face to the seat in shame.

“Somethin tells me you ain’t a seasoned crook.”

“I’m not a criminal at all! I have no idea what I’m doing. I was just going to drive and drive until I hit the coast, I hadn’t even decided what to do after. I, I’m sorry, I waited until we got close to town so you wouldn’t be too far away to walk home safely. I, ah, I wasn’t prepared for having to do this to someone I like.”

Duck shifts above him, mutters, “what the fuck do I do now” to himself, and tightens his hold on Indrid’s wrists.

Indrid whimpers, realizing with horror that his body responded to the mechanics of the fight but not it’s context.

Duck freezes at the noise, and when Indrid hazards a peek the mechanic is staring down in disbelief.

“Are you fuckin hard from this?”

There’s no use in lying, he’s faced worse humiliation than this, “Some. Not on purpose. I, ah, I enjoy rough treatment.”

Duck’s face fills with bitter amusement, “And I like givin it. But not to fellas who nearly steal my truck. Fuckin figures the first guy to flirt with me is doin it for some other reason.”

“That’s not true, my plan involved no flirting.” Indrid huffs, “I was flirting because I think you’re handsome.”

More pressure on his back as Duck leans down to whisper in his ear, grinding against his ass, “Yeah? Were you hopin I’d fuck you in here? Or over the hood when we got back?”

“Maybe.” He manages a smirk.

“Hopin I’ll fuck you now?”

Indrid nods, but Duck doesn’t notice. The mechanic sits all the way back, releasing his hands, “too damn bad, because unlike you, I only take things with permission.”

“C-consider it granted.”

The hand finds his back again, but instead of shoving or grabbing it strokes up and down, “Indrid, I’m serious. I ain’t doin anythin if the only reason you’re offerin is because you think I’ll hurt you if you don’t.”

“I’m not. I want this, Duck, I want to be with you.” He’s going back to jail one way or another after this, unwilling to consider the thought of hurting Duck to get the keys. He’d rather go back with one happy memory and a few minutes of fun freshly stored in his mind.

There’s silence, Duck’s hand still as he thinks. Then it comes down hard on Indrid’s ass, “Okay sugar, happy to oblige you. Besides, seems to me you owe me an apology for that sorry excuse for a car theft.”

Indrid moans loudly when Duck hauls onto his elbows and knees, though it’s the pet name that hits deeper than any of the much-welcome pain. The waistband of his dollar store sweatpants hits his thighs, there’s a pop of something plastic, and then a slick finger is teasing between his asscheeks.

“Vaseline. Great for keepin your skin from cracking in the cold.”

The finger disappears and he whines, pushing his ass back and getting it slapped so hard he yelps.

“Nice try. But this ain’t for you, it’s for me. Don’t got a condom and only got a tiny bit of this left and it ain’t enough to fuck you full on.”

“It’s alright, I like the pain, you could use spit or-”

“Nope” another slap, “that turns into the bad kinda pain real quick. Now open your fuckin legs.”

Indrid does so, gasps happily when Duck slides his lubed-up cock between his thighs.

“Close ‘em and keep ‘em closed. Good, ohfuckyeah that’s good.” The thrusts are already fast, Ducks hands holding his hips in place, “fuck, tell you what sugar, you may be a shitty crook but you’re a damn good lay.”

“Yes.” Indrid moans, scrabbling for a hold on the upholstery.

“Shit, you do like it rough. Like it when I talk like that?” One hand comes down, petting Indrid’s head and brushing his hair away from where it’s stuck over his eyes.

“So much, Duck, please, please, more, I want more AHgod!” Tears slip past his glasses as Duck hits the right side of his ass over and over again. He’s been treated like a criminal mastermind, made miserable because of it, so being nothing more than an eager piece of ass is a welcome change.

“Then I oughta tell you this is what you get for tryin to get one over on me. Think you can throw my ass out in the cold? Gonna turn yours so red you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

He’s so hard it isn’t even funny, and beneath the wonderful cycle of pain-relief-pain-relief his mind chants safesafesafesafe.

“Fuck, Indrid, I’m so fuckin lucky you tried that stunt on me, can’t wait to cum all over that cute little ass, ohyeah, fuck, fuckyeah.” He pulls out, cum spurting onto Indrid’s ass and legs and Indrid hears his own voice saying “thank you” as he does.

As he’s contemplating what form of begging will earn him an orgasm, he’s flipped onto his back, one calloused hand pressing him down by the shoulder while the other jerks him off. He squeaks and squirms, one palm thwacking into the door as his right leg catches the steering wheel.

“Sensitive, sugar?”

“Yes.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you bent over for me.”

“TechnicallyAH, you, you’re the one who bent me over.”

Duck jerks him extra hard in reply, grinning. The sight of him is just the right balance of menacing and protective that Indrid only needs two more bucks of his hips before he’s cumming. The mechanic works him through it, squeezing him roughly just to hear him whimper (Indrid’s certain of it).

He sits back and starts putting his clothes in order as Indrid lays there, panting from exertion and the weight of reality on his chest.

“I don’t suppose you have something I can, ah, wipe off with before you take me to the station?” He asks softly.

“I’m not taking you to the police, Indrid.”

“What? Why?” He bolts up, his mind screaming that he shouldn’t ask too many questions lest it make Duck change his mind.

“I’m not sure what kinda guy fucks someone and then hands them over to the cops, but I’m damn sure I don’t wanna be one.”

“You’d do that without even knowing the full truth?”

“Wouldn’t mind if you told me.” Duck starts the car, adds “seatbelt” as he pulls back onto the road.

Indrid gets his pants up and buckles in, huddling in on himself, “As you probably guessed, my name isn’t Wilde. It’s Indrid Cold. Wilde was the man I stole that car from, who also had a very nice AAA plan it seems. I am, or was, an architect. Quite talented, if I do say so myself. And many other people said so, once upon a time. My firm got a contract with a certain large city to design and help build a bridge. I was head of design, and I was certain this would be the project that made my name. It did. Just not how I hoped.”

Duck slows down as they reach the edge of Kepler.

“Have you ever heard of the Silverlake Bridge?”

“Ain’t that the one that collapsed a few years agooh, oh shit was that your bridge?”

“Yes. Halfway through the project, I became concerned that certain elements of the design would not be as stable as they needed to be and might collapse without warning. The higher ups said it would require a larger budget to do the new, far safer design, but gave me the go ahead to finish my proposal of the securer model. They accepted that design, and I thought that was the end of it. Turns out, they funneled the money needed for the better bridge into their own pockets, both my bosses and the representatives from the city. Unbeknownst to me, they built the weaker bridge. When it collapsed I” he takes a deep breath, the memories surfacing in a tidal wave, “I was shocked, and prepared to accept responsibility, as I could not understand how the design failed. It was only when the investigation revealed how it failed that I understood my warnings had been ignored and I was being set up as a fall guy. Not only for the collapse, but for the missing funds, my bosses swearing up one side and down the other that they’d given the money to me to manage. They’d had this planned for months, and so had built our communication in such a way that I had no proof the money hadn’t come to me. Thus I was blamed, tried, and convicted, and in the minds of many I am responsible for the death of 67 people.”

The engine shuts off and he looks up to see them in an auto garage. Duck is turned to him, face so sad and sympathetic that Indrid could almost believe..

“You think I’m telling the truth.”

“I know you are. Not sure how, but even though I ain’t much of a liar myself, I can usually tell when someone is bullshittin me.”

“I don’t want to go back to prison.”

“You won’t.”

“Duck I, I can’t ask you to hide me, that could put you in danger of arrest.”

“There’s all of four cops in Kepler, and I’d bet my life no one here could pick you out of a line-up as a ‘disgraced architect Indrid Cold.’ And if we need a cover story, Ned’s got a knack for ‘em.”

“We?”

Duck cups his cheek and Indrid leans into it, “You and me. Indrid, I think fate is a load of bullshit, but I can’t shake the feelin me pickin you up tonight was meant to be. Lemme help you, please.”

Indrid sets his hand on Duck’s own, “Okay. Ah, where do I stay? I have fifty dollars left.”

“Could stay with me if you want. No strings attached.”

“Is that your way of letting me down gently?”

“My way of saying you don’t gotta fuck me to have a place to live. If you wanna fuck me just because, say the word and I’ll rail you into next week.”

“I’d like both those things so very much. Though right now all I want is to sleep.”

Duck leans forward, kissing him so chastely that the following lovebite is all the more thrilling.

“In that case, sugar, let’s get you home.”

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #winter fills #mechanic au #on the run

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

This Is What You Came For - Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

@mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #mendotagsquad

GIF Credit: X

Nolan Sorrento + 29 - “How is my wife more badass than me?” Requested by @purebloodwitch Author’s Note: Alright! Second to last 100 Sentence Challenge request! We really are almost there now! 🙏😁 This is a Ready Player One AU. You’ll figure out the AU as you read 😉 I made... some Tron references in this! I don’t think enough to warrant you having needed to see it-! 😁 Maybe you’ll want to look up what exactly a Light Cycle is. (Specifically how you use one in Tron: Legacy) Also I know that the Cycle would technically be in her OASIS inventory but I really like the idea of her just carrying the stick around strapped to her belt or thigh or something to use it. So ignore that inaccuracy!

Disclaimer: AU / Neither RPO or Tron has anything to do with me. / gif not mine / lyrics not mine / References to Lacero

Premise: With the final Key of the OASIS up for grabs, and IOI certain that it will be theirs - you’ve become unnecessary. When it all goes wrong, there’s only one Sixer that can step up to the plate...

Words: 4948

Warnings: AU / Swearing

_______ Baby, this is what you came for Lightning strikes every time she moves Yeah Baby, this is what you came for Lightning strikes every time she moves And everybody's watching her But she's looking at you, We go fast with the game we play Who knows why it's gotta be this way We say nothing more than we need I say "your place" when we leave Baby, this is what you came for Lightning strikes every time she moves And everybody's watching her But she's looking at you --- Yes, I am gonna win, And I’ll light the fuse, And I’ll never lose And I choose to survive, Whatever it takes You won’t pull ahead, I’ll keep up the pace And I’ll reveal my strength to the whole human race Yes I am prepared to stay alive And I won’t forgive, vengeance is mine And I won’t give in because I choose to thrive Yeah, I’m gonna win! Race, It’s a race But I’m gonna win Yes, I’m gonna win

---

You weren’t supposed to be here. In fact you weren’t even supposed to be on standby near IOI plaza. You were supposed to be at home - a simple spectator to the final challenge. Today was, of course, the day that IOI claimed the third key. Your husband, the OASIS for himself. Buuuut, as usual with Nolan, it had to be done the hard way - and everything appeared to be going terribly.

It wasn’t so hard to get your motorcycle from point A to point B and before you knew it you were hurrying towards the War Room. You heard the whispers and murmurs get steadily louder as you rushed from room to room; but especially as you ran the walkways over the Oologists. Y/N’s here! Y/N’s here! Y/N’s here! Yeah - everyone knew what that meant.

“Y/N! Ms.Sorrento, I-!” His assistant caught you as soon as you flung the doors to the correct floor open. “Paul, now is not the time to tell me what Nolan does or doesn’t want me to do. It looks like he needs me and, regardless of that, I think the sixers need help.” Several of them stood to attention as you clambered up on one of the platforms ready to strap yourself in. Good kids that respected you. Well, that came with the territory, you had spent time training a few of the best here too. Michael, their drill instructor and another guy you liked plenty, rushed over to perform final checks and run down exactly what was happening with you, he knew this was serious too. “Shall I inform him you’re here!?” Paul seemed to be halfway to the door already, “Nah, he’ll figure out soon enough!” You gave Michael a fist bump as you pulled on your gloves. “Andrew up there?” Nolan’s head of security seemed pretty important to keep around right now. “Uh… I don’t know I-” “Don’t worry, just make sure he is.” You took a breath regarding your visor for a moment. Okay – time to teach these kids a thing or two, again.

You were something of a marvel within the OASIS yourself - though you weren’t about to brag about it. IOI’s secret weapon, and boy did they desperately need you right now. F’Nale, but with covert OASIS based operations. And you were very alike; you understood why Nolan trusted her as much as he did you. An “official” I-R0k; although you would never like the comparison, considering you could trust him about as far as you could throw him, and didn’t understand why Nolan had so much faith. You two didn’t get on, which is why you’d been left out of a lot of this key stuff. For this to run smoothly Nolan had to keep the two of you from clashing, and I-R0K was the one getting paid for things you would consider less than legal. Except you had two keys, and they ought to remember that. Besides, it looked like his faith was going well...

You glanced up to Nolan’s office with a gentle sigh as you slipped on your visor to log in. Am I going to have to rescue you again, husband dearest? Much like him you didn’t wear your wedding ring - his in a box in the left pocket of his jacket ‘over my heart, where it matters’ is what Nolan always said. Yours on a chain around your neck, which you would often kiss for good luck, as you did now. The familiar start up screen greeted you with those five letters you knew all too well; before presenting you with a host of IOI portal options. Your flashed smile was confident as you stepped towards one.

Sector 14, Anoraks Castle, Planet Doom

*** You knew what you were as much as everyone else did. Nolan’s last line of defence. IOI’s secret weapon. Everyone knew, if they didn’t already, that it was serious when you took to the War Room floor and suited up. You would never call yourself a Gunter and you certainly weren’t a Sixer in the traditional sense, you enjoyed your time in the OASIS sure – and you were probably in it a little too much for Nolan’s liking, but that made you perfect. You knew what you were doing, and you weren’t restricted. For one thing, your Avatar still retained her original name. Today you’d changed into your battle uniform, but usually you could blend freely with everyone else. Working for him sure, but unlike the Sixers you were invisible. Before you’d met Nolan Sorrento you’d been a stuntwoman – when movie making still existed. It didn’t make the transition to becoming a fitness instructor that hard, and eventually that led to becoming a personal trainer for the elite (no one else was paying for such a thing these days). Nolan wasn’t one of these people, Nolan was someone whose form you’d commented on once or twice to help – and also a man who infuriatingly thought he knew everything. He’d in no way been your favourite person, the kinda rich corporate asshole that thought his money could buy him everything. But he liked your attitude and soon enough you realised that Nolan was only pretending not to listen to you. You warmed to him, and he you – to the point you knew he wasn’t kicking around your gym just for his workouts. You got hired as his trainer, and then promptly dropped as you started dating. Nolan wasn’t one for dating people he hired, because he liked to avoid scandal, which is exactly why you weren’t an official IOI employee. But he was as married to his job as he was to you, so, it had to bleed into your life somewhere. Truth was when it came to your relationship you were firmly in the drivers’ seat; and Nolan Sorrento needed you. Badly. Possibly none more so than he did now. You’d spent this morning at home – wishing him good luck before he left and letting him know you’d be on standby. Nolan had flashed a confident smile, and told you you didn’t need to be. “We have that… Orb of Osuvox thing, you can take the day off.” You were pleased he was at least pronouncing it correctly, “Okay. But with two keys and being arguably the best Sixer you have-” He crossed the room and kissed your forehead, “Y/N. That’s exactly why you need to stay…” He took your hands in his, touching his head to yours, “If I keep you safe here, then I know if things start going wrong, we still have a chance.” “Babe…” You pulled back, “Am I not your chance?” “We have this.” His blue eyes flashed in over-confidence (Which was correct in hindsight!) “Relax. Watch it here instead. You’ve done your part.” You tipped your head, before pulling him to you fiercely by his shirt collar for a fiery kiss – you’d have removed it, if you didn’t know that he had to go. “Finish it.” He blinked hard and swallowed harder, to Nolan that felt like a promise. Like the and hurry back was lingering unsaid on your lips. “I… I will.” Only that was before you’d watched that level 99 magic artifact implode on him, and you’d reached for your motorcycle keys then. No matter what Nolan said; you were always going to be on standby for him, you would step in if necessary, no matter the cost. The only thing that kept you on the couch for any longer than that was watching the appearance of Mechagodzilla. Now there was a movie Nolan had you watching 1000 times and yet still waxed lyrical about. How excited he was to tell you he’d built one in the OASIS. You had gifted him with a miniature figurine of it for his desk, and there it sat, his pride and joy. It always made you smile when you saw it. But even his faithful mechanical monster wasn’t helping him this time. And as you watched that explode you sprung from the couch. “SHIT!” Did that mean Nolan would have zeroed? No, no, no, no! That shouldn’t have happened. This shouldn’t be happening! You snapped the viewing screen off and sprinted to the garage – very nearly cursing yourself. You should have gone with him; you should have pushed Nolan, made it clear he needed you for moral support and no wasn’t an option – then you’d have been at HQ right now. Hell, you should have BEEN on that field right now, you could have gone from here - but what you really needed was IOI intel, portals, and access to their inventory. The one thing that gave you pause before you started your bike ignition was the vibration of your phone in your pocket, you pulled it out; ‘He needs you.’ was all it said – hastily written by his assistant, you pocketed it again and took a deep breath. Hand stilled for a moment over the gold band pressed against your chest under your shirt. “Yeah… No shit.” You always felt at home on bikes – and felt that it was always a quicker way to navigate through the city. You’d get to IOI Plaza quicker than you ever would in a car at any rate. Your OASIS vehicle of choice was a Light Cycle – Tron was one of, if not your all-time, favourite 80s Pop Culture movie. Although your current mod meant you had a version closer to the type in Legacy, a little easier to carry around and extremely fun to mount. You’d always flashed Nolan a grin and referred to your bike as ‘an ACTUAL gold piece of 80s media’ only for him to scoff at you. But yours had won you that first key before anyone else in IOI had, and you got to waltz into his board meeting and practically demand to be employed. (Unsurprisingly, Nolan didn’t really want you involved. Oh, until you proved you could do it!) The Light Cycle games were also ever popular in the OASIS, and you were the current reigning champion. Those had cemented your place in the OASIS, rather than your role as an IOI agent – it was unsurprising that everyone assumed you were a gunter. Many had tried to beat you, and all had failed – now it was time to put all those skills to a different kind of test. Hopefully you could win this one too. Nolan was counting on it.

*** Your avatar materialised on just the right side of the battle. Maybe a little too close to danger, though. You took a couple of steps back from the shattered bridge, giving only an obliging glance to the lava before turning to the castle; the real fight was in here. “Taking the bridge out isn’t a bad idea… I suppose…” – It was likely the only credit you would give I-R0K. This particular part of the planet looked like more of a winter scene than the rest of it. And not from any cheery Christmas movie, you thought, much more like the Day After Tomorrow. The wind whipped your avatar’s hair around and left a distinct chill on your VR gear; you shivered against the cold involuntarily before you broke into a run, hoping you weren’t too late. You had highly modified your avatars coding, twice, for these exactly moments. Within seconds you deployed her fairy-like wings. You couldn’t remember exactly when you’d last used them practically, rather than for extra show. But if ever there was a time, it was now. Beneath what you could hear from the OASIS itself was the nearly comforting noise of the war room and the murmur rippled – this was serious business. You could leave nothing to chance. The sound of real fighting echoed off the ice as you kept running, letting you wings vibrate against the cold air to give her lift, hopefully this would work! *** At first Parzival wasn’t sure what exactly had hit him, only that his right hand side had taken the brunt of the force. Luckily not enough to take out his armour quite yet. Looking up, he faced an avatar he’d never seen before skidding across the ice to a stop, whereupon she used her wings to right herself. Those must have been coded by the person to whom she belonged; he’d never seen a mod like that. He suddenly found himself with a sense of dread; dressed in a black leather jacket reminiscent of Sorrento’s own, underneath was a T-Shirt emblazoned in lights: IOI-6whatever-her-number-was. A Sixer?! But with an avatar like that she wasn’t just a regular one. He stood shakily, eyes flicking back to Sorrento – who looked more than a little surprised that she’d just joined the fight. Parzival smiled; Nolan was off guard – now was his chance. Z got just two paces – albeit at a very good run – before you were back in front of him. Every step he took you mirrored; wings stretched out defensively. These might have been kids, but you weren’t opposed to getting up in his face. Your eyes glittered in a way that made the colour seem unnatural (your favourite, if he was wondering), and Parzival was forced to take a slight step back. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch him.” You were more than happy to take the space he’d conceded. “Fine. I’ll just take both of you!” You had to give him credit, almost admired the attitude, eyes narrowed. Parzival wasn’t about to back down without a fight; hell, you might even find this one enjoyable. “You sure about that when you can just walk away now – it might be less painful for you.” “This is my world – and I’ll protect it from IOI and HIM by any means necessarily!” You sighed, with a shrug, “Suit yourself-!” There was just no way around you. Parzival realised he’d have to go through you and he wasn’t sure how many more of these painful hits he could take. You were highly trained and knew what you were doing – it raised so many questions as to why he’d never met you before. “Y-Y/N!” “Save it!” You didn’t even turn to Nolan’s avatar as you snapped, holding your hand up to silence him, give this kid an inch he’d likely take a mile. (Also you weren’t entirely happy anymore about your husband leaving you behind, but now wasn’t the time for that). You went for Z again – weapons unnecessary; your avatar was fine with relying on your own fighting skills and knowledge. Especially in close combat – magic was nice, but you’d still take your own instincts over that. Really you should have told him he didn’t have a chance, and you weren’t bad at dodging his tricks either. Given you were IOI’s best kept secret, there was probably too much going on in Parzival’s head right now to keep focus on what he was doing. He didn’t have any friends to save him. Your next sharp strike had him down on the floor – flashing red in warning that any second, he could be taken off the board. And it was painful, you made sure of that, to keep him there for a minute. You had a couple of other idiots to deal with before you removed him from the top of the scoring. For the first time since you’d got here you acknowledged the cavernous area you found yourself in; it seemed to be nothing but ice and stretched on endlessly. That chill still clung to your VR equipment and as you caught your breath it fogged up in the virtual air. I-R0K pulled you back to the matter at hand; “You’re a little late to the party don’t you think-!?” You didn’t even regard him properly, eyes flicking across, face hardened; “Shut your damn mouth. I got here didn’t I-!? Thought you boys wouldn’t need my help. Thank me later.” Then as a snarky aside, “This is all on you, I guess? A lot of good your plan did-!” “It woulda been fine. It’s your company that was infiltrated.” You did actually turn to Nolan then, arms folded, “HIS company.” Nolan looked a little affronted, but held his tongue. You knew he wasn’t about to chide you for being here. Looking between them again you couldn’t help but smirk; “I see your little orb didn’t work.” “It was taken down from the inside.” “...Exactly.” That still counted, you didn’t know why I-R0K was trying to pretend that it didn’t. “That’s not my fault.” “No one thought to just turn it back on?” They looked to each other and you realised it’d never crossed anyone’s mind, “Oh god, men!“ You ran your hand over your face; “So. What happened?” Nolan came in to defend his old friend from your onslaught – painfully aware of how much you didn’t get on; “It’s not exactly on him, my rig did get hacked.” You raised an eyebrow, “You still using that ridiculous password?” “Yeah.” His eyes flickered gold. “You still got it on a post-it?” “No.” His answer was far too quick, voice pitched slightly, and you sighed folding your arms once more, “I told you to change it.” It sounded like something a teen would use anyway - Bo55man69? Who was Nolan Sorrento kidding? “I… I was getting to it!” He stuttered as you gave him a hard look. “Little late for that... if you two idiots will excuse me!” Then you finally regarded the third man in the room looking between you utterly confused, yet still on the floor where you’d left him. Best not to leave him unchecked for long – you could bicker with these boys all day, it wouldn’t win Nolan the final key. “Now, Parzival, where were we?” The teen stood on his feet, he had a couple of tricks left, he knew that – maybe back up would even arrive. In fact, he was sure that if he just swept you from the equation it wouldn’t be so hard to take out the other two. Parzival leant around you to regard the Cataclyst, half buried in snow. Maybe he could use that as leverage, Sorrento might not care about setting foot in here again, but he surely wanted control. He wasn’t sure you and the other one would be best pleased about the prospect of Zeroing out. You followed his eyeline, and in that split second where your concentration wasn’t on him, he darted forward; “Oh no, you don’t!” Nolan dodged to the side, which was kinda unhelpful, because he was a lot bigger than both of you so could probably have taken a decent hit with his Avatar no problem. But, sure, instead he was content to watch you scrap with a kid over the most destructive device in the OASIS. You dragged Parzival back across the ice, letting your wings do most of the (literal) heavy lifting. “Why are you making this so hard-!?” “I can’t give up!! Not for everyone that actually knows a damn thing about what this place stands for!” You laughed, dropping him and firmly positioning yourself between Nolan, the Cataclyst and him. “Trust me, you’re only seeing what you want to see about the OASIS. You’re only seeing what you want to see about Nolan too, but you’re also a man running out of time. You can leave, right now, you can stand down. Parzival you have choices.” “I’ll NEVER let the OASIS fall into the hands of IOI.” You weren’t exactly sure how he was going to get out of it, but if he wanted to continue to fight you, you were down with that. “Suit yourself, but when this ends – remember I gave you the choice.” He came at you again, and this time you knew the only option was to take him out. *** For just a moment you let yourself regard Parzival sympathetically. In all honestly you got it, why everyone had gathered here to stop IOI from swallowing up their favourite pastime. But their perspective was what they saw, IOI and its loyalty centres. Your husband, the face and the front of that. On any other given day, you’d be on the other side fighting him and you knew that. You were painfully aware of it. But you knew him; you knew you couldn’t change the company and Nolan needed the support of IOI to get to this point. Maybe Loyalty would go, maybe it would stay – maybe when he got what he wanted, you could persuade Nolan to do anything. But he needed this. For what the OASIS had done to his family, he needed this more than the kid standing in front of you. And that was your only thought. “Sorry, kid.” And you meant it as you delivered that final blow. Parzival zeroed. For him, the game was over. There was eerie silence for a minute and you looked to the floor, feeling solemn, folding your wings away again. That would weigh heavily on you for weeks, you knew. From across the field the two men watched you in disbelief. You had actually done it. IOI was guaranteed the win. After all that, Nolan Sorrento only had to clear the final challenge. “How is my wife more badass than me?” Nolan murmured, shaking his head slow. “Well I don’t really think it’s that hard-!” He glared at I-R0K momentarily, eyes sparking back to that gold, before you spoke up. “Leave.” “What?” You didn’t even look across to I-R0K, “Your job is done here and I want you gone.” “Are you kidding me!?” “Unless you want to zero out too.” Your eyes were harsh and cold, and despite the obvious grumble Nolan nudged his friend, nodding in agreement. “You got me this far, old friend… You’ll be well paid.” You received a glare, before he jabbed a finger at you, “Don’t you DARE mess this up-!” and with that, logged out of the game. Now alone, you regarded Nolan properly for the first time since you got here. You wanted to run to him, but you knew it wasn’t over. You still had to beat the challenge and get the key. “Where are you?” He spoke first. “Downstairs.” You gave a little nod, “Andrew with you?” “…Yes.” At least his security was there, that seemed important to you. Even if the fight was in the OASIS. “You came all the way here… for me?” You titled your head, Nolan already knew his own answer, it was his lack of belief that got you; “I couldn’t let you do this alone. Not after what I saw.” “Guess I should have let you come.” “Well…” You smiled gently, “I’m here for you now.” *** You both stood in front of the final problem, with you looking for a final solution. They had won it and still failed, that wasn’t the key. It had to be something so Halliday and so out there, that it was so obvious… that’s what made it so hard. Nolan was a little less patient with you; “So how do you beat it? If it’s not about... winning?” You looked up to him, with a raised eyebrow. How exactly was he going to run the OASIS again? Maybe you’d be best zeroing him and winning it all for yourself. “Boy, you still got a long way to go.” You nudged him gently with your elbow and went back to studying the game hard; “It’s the right game we know that - the ice broke after a minute for everything else except for this one. But winning can’t be the objective.” Then it clicked; “Oh-! Of course.” “Of course what?” He was still clueless. You were trying to imagine the OASIS full of all Nolan’s favourite pop culture references instead. You didn’t think you’d find yourself complaining at all the 90s/00s obscurities somehow. As long as he kept Tron – or it’d be divorce. Instead you pointed to the retro TV; “The whole damn competition is about Easter Eggs and this game... was the first one.” You picked up the controller with a smile, “It’s about finding the Easter Egg-! Literally!” Nolan tipped his head, curiously, as you continued to explain, “Warren Robinett hid his name on the start screen, sort of, back in a time when creators didn’t get shit for things they worked so hard on...” you nodded back towards Nolan, “Kinda think you’d know a little about that.” Glad it wouldn’t show up on his OASIS avatar, Nolan’s faced burned slightly at your mention of his Gregarious days. He didn’t have to say anything though, his eyes had a habit of changing colour to give away his emotions and they’d flicked back to gold. “So, you can beat it?” “If that’s the answer, yeah!” You gave a single confident nod, coupled with a gentle smile And for once he smiled too, one so beautifully genuine all you wished was that you were seeing it on his actual face; “You’re a star!” “Oh no.” You shook your head firmly; “Your Oologists found the game, they deserve the credit. They deserve a hell of a lot - let’s be honest here!” And you’d make sure they got it, you did always like checking in on the kids and asking them about their latest piece of Halliday trivia whenever you happened to be kicking around HQ. You swallowed hard; “Okay, Noe, lets just hope I’m right!” *** The gravitas of the moment demanded you to stare up at Halliday’s avatar with a certain level of respect. It felt too wrong to be right. But you knew the man you’d married, and hopefully this would give him just the opportunity needed to show more than only you who he really was. You bowed your head, before stepping forward to take the Crystal Key delicately as it was offered. Voice soft as you bit your lip. “Thank you…” As you did so, the ice before the both of you cracked, raising from it a door of the same gem stone. You hopped down from the podium and back across to your husband, who was staring at the door with the same type of hesitation. You noticed his hand was over his heart – because even in Nolan’s haptics he would be able to feel that wedding ring digging into his skin, transferred to his shirt pocket when he wasn’t wearing his jacket. You couldn’t help your little smile at how absentminded and soft it was. He wasn’t even thinking about the OASIS when he was sitting in his office doing that. “Is this really happening?” “Uh huh.” You looked to the door, “Let’s go see what’s really waiting on the other side.” “Y/N- Wait-!” But you were already jumping across the ice path towards it and Nolan had no choice than to follow you to the door. Three holes for the three keys; yours were his and you took a step back from him. But he was still hesitant. “What?” “After all this, I just can’t…” “Honey…” You took his hand and made him look back to you, “You’ve wanted this for five years.” You looked back to the final key in your hand, taking a deep breath, “This is what you came for.” “What if I do the wrong thing?” “I know you.” You held the Crystal Key out for him, “You won’t.” Nolan took it from you gently, opening his inventory for the other two, Copper, then Jade… before he looked back to the Crystal one and paused again. You wondered what was happening around you, mass cheering? Were people upset? Your focus was Nolan, everything else was drowned out. Everyone knew what the official line for the plan was. Could the man you loved go ahead with it, that was the question – even if it was only on your lips. You regarded him for a minute, key in one hand, your fingers laced with his other and you wondered if he would really go through with it. Nolan had long had issues with the OASIS; it was in part responsible for the death of his sister, and he also held the belief that people spent far too long escaping the problems of the real world here instead of facing the ones outside. Now he truly had the keys to the Kingdom - would Nolan Sorrento shut it all down? Would he monetise it? He pandered that one to board and shareholders alike, but could he really go through with such a thing? You didn’t like to guess that he could - but making it exclusive to those that could afford it wouldn’t solve his problem. Those that could afford it would be pivotal in fixing the world, after all.

Nolan glanced to you and exhaled, squeezing your hand a little tighter, he’d dreamt of shutting this down since he’d lost her. And that’s what he really talked to you about in the dead of night curled up in your arms when no one else could hear. He gave a firm nod and turned back towards the door “Okay. Let’s do this...” Then looked back to you, placing your avatar’s hand over his, “You got me here, Y/N. So I won’t do this without you.” You could feel yourself start to well up, you weren’t one for crying and usually you’d curse yourself. But this once you’d let them come. “Nolan…” I love you. I love you too. I love you SO much. He gave a nod of encouragement, and a gentle smile – you returned both. “On my count…”

Whatever came next, and whatever Nolan chose to do here - you’d do it together.

---

15/16! Woo hoo! We’re there! One more to go and we’ve done it!! 😁

Thank you for reading and enjoying these so much so far! Hopefully we’ll go out with a bang! 😉💙

#nolan sorrento #ready player one #ben mendelsohn #nolan sorrento x reader #There will never be enough Nolan Sorrento on my blog #Rie #(Officially my AU baby now)#175 #Linzi Writes #Smol Bean Drabbles #Linzi Writes Requsts #100 Sentence Challenge

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s-j-ace · 4 years

Text

The Same Question

Chapter Five

Characters: Shuichi Saihara, Ouma Kokichi

Words: 10600

Summary:

After Detective Shuichi Saihara encounters mysterious thief Kokichi Ouma for the first time, a game of cat and mouse ensues as both men ask themselves the same question. Why exactly does the elusive phantom thief do what he does?

This is Chapter Five, Here are Chapters One, Two, Three, and Four

Read on AO3

[Log of Text Messages from Maki Harukawa’s Cellular Device]

From: idiot #1

Hey Makiroll <3

How was your flight?

From: Me

Good

Well

You know

I was on an eight hour flight

So that was never going to go well

But I just got to the apartment and I made some tea

So I’m good now

It’s nice to be home

From: idiot #1

Haha I bet

Man I wish I could be home to greet you!

I’d give you a big hug and kiss right now if I could!!!!!!

From: Me

Gross

From: idiot #1

From: Me

…

If you were here right now I’d tell you I love you with my words

Like an adult

From: idiot #1

What no kiss?

From: Me

Maybe a small one

From: idiot #1

From: Me

If you’ve shaved

From: idiot #1

From: Me

I gotta wean you off kisses kaito

That way you won’t have to go cold turkey right away when you go on your big trip

From: idiot #1

My big trip?

Lol, you make it sound like I’m just going overseas or something

From: Me

Well space is treated as international waters by most countries

From: idiot #1

I guess that’s true?

Hey!!

That’s a space fact!

Maki Roll!!!!

From: Me

Shhushhhh

From: idiot #1

From: Me

Oh hey

Speaking of big trips

Have you heard from Shuichi at all?

I’m concerned that he may be mad at me

From: idiot #1

Whaaaaat

Why would shuichi be mad at you

From: Me

Well

I didn’t back up his clowns stealing toilets from the louvre thing

And then clowns stole toilets from the louvre

I’m worried he may feel as though I’ve gaslit him

Or something

From: idiot #1

What

How did you know about the toilets

From: Me

It was in the news?

Wait, so you heard a different way?

From: idiot #1

From: Me

So you have heard from him

From: idiot #1

Oh yeah

I don’t think he’s mad at you

He’s pretty preoccupied with the clowns I think

And besides you know

My sidekick isn’t really the type of guy who like

Gets mad

He’s more likely to like

Think you’re mad at him

And then be mad at himself for making you mad

From: Me

Shuichi gets mad sometimes

I saw him punch a guy once

And he listens to those songs that are just people screaming endlessly about hating other people

From: idiot #1

Yeah but he cries while doing that

Also I meant like

He wouldn’t get mad at you like that

Because you’re friends

From: Me

Yeah

You’re probably right

I still want to go visit him tomorrow

Say I’m.. sorry? Or something

Is this the kind of stuff that apologies are for?

From: idiot #1

Well I mean like

If you feel bad like by all means feel free to let him know

But Shuichi probably doesn’t think it’s a big deal

From: Me

Yeah but I still want to

From: idiot #1

Also I don’t think visiting him would be super productive

As far as I can tell he isn’t back from his trip yet

From: Me

What

But it’s been a month since he left

Isn’t he bored of Paris yet

From: idiot #1

No I think he’s like

Going other places too

From: Me

wym

Like, he’s doing a tour of europe?

That sounds nice

From: idiot #1

No I think it's more like

He’s still on the case

Cuz last week he was in Taiwan

And the week before that he was in Egypt

And some robberies happened there

From: Me

So he didn’t take my vacation advice at all huh

From: idiot #1

Yea I guess not

But hey

Not giving up is a good thing!!

From: Me

But what if you need to give up something that’s hurting you

Like smoking or murdering or drinking or overworking yourself because you equate productivity to self-worth

From: idiot #1

Then don’t give up on trying to get better!!!! You gotta believe in the best version of yourself

From: Me

|:/

Is he at least going to take a break long enough to come home and see you off

From: idiot #1

From: Me

Maybe I could text him to remind him and casually slip in the fact that I may be a little bit sorry that I thought he was insane

I mean obviously he’ll want to come see you before you go

You did tell him right

Kaito

...

You forgot to tell him

From: idiot #1

Well I don’t know about forgot

It’s more like

There was never really a good time? To tell him?

From: Me

…

I’m changing your contact back to number one idiot in my phone

From: #1 idiot

Ouch

Will you change it back if I tell him today?

From: Me

Maybe

Do you even know where he is?

From: #1 idiot

…

From: Me

… well you better find him before I change your contact to “best friend loser”

From: #1 idiot

Implying that I’m your best friend and a loser or implying that I lost our best friend to the thrill of chasing a group of fiendish clowns

From: Me

Both

From: #1 idiot

Okay okay I’m already texting him --- Shuichi Saihara spent the start of his day awkwardly trying to fit in with the rest of the people sitting in the front row of the exceedingly fancy audience at the first show of fashion week in Milan, Italy. He knew he should technically feel exceedingly lucky that he even got into the show, let alone that he got one of the very expensive front row seats. The Milan fashion week people were certainly the most cooperative of any potential DICE targets he had tried to warn previously. Probably because Shuichi made sure not to just send the warning through Interpol this time, and the fashion people actually cared about their careers enough to take the threat of a break in seriously. Except, Shuichi wasn't sure all the security should be placed around the stages and dresses like they were. The most typically valuable item on sight was never really DICE's MO.

That's why he was here, wasn't it?

In the front row. With all these strangers. Who were giving him weird looks. Did that lady just whisper to her friend while looking directly at him? Wait no, don't look at them. Or maybe do look at them? What if they were DICE members who only just spotted him? Right, right, all these people were suspects. Job before social anxiety Shuichi.

Refocused, Shuichi made some observations around him. He scanned the crowd, but didn't see any of the DICE members he would recognize. He did see that security guards had been helpfully placed by the doorways. He wondered if any of them were interpol agents. If they were, it wasn’t anyone he knew. Probably for the best anyway. Agent Ishimaru was mostly likely still pretty steamed at him. He hadn’t been letting Shuichi look at the notes DICE sent to Interpol, even though their team didn’t seem to have as much luck translating them as Shuichi had in the past.

Wait, there was one entrance wasn’t there? Maybe he should watch it? After all, there was no guarantee that DICE wouldn't just walk right in. Like they did in Nevada. And Cairo. But weirdly not Taipei? It seemed like they had abandoned whatever they were going to use Doctor Iruma’s EMP bombs for after failing to get them... Or were the bombs the heist after all and DICE had just waited for him to leave Taiwan to carry out the heist and actually weren’t in Milan at all and Shuichi was a big old idiot? No, they had to be in Milan, he had seen the airport tapes and done the research. But were they at the show? If they weren’t that’d be good news for the next season of fashion, but probably not for Shuichi’s case...

Ok, he just had to make sure that even if they were here nothing got stolen. What was he saying? Oh, yeah. Just walking in was probably less likely here, with all the security and all.

But wasn't it just like DICE to pick the path less likely than one would expect?

As the intro music cued in to the beginning of the fashion show and the house lights dimmed, all Shuichi really knew was that he should be ready for anything.

Two spotlights did a bit of a dance on the catwalk before they too faded and the whole room was pitch black.

There was a moment of silence.

…

And another.

…

And… another…

…

People started murmuring in the crowd.

Shuichi heard some English lady say, "What, do they expect us to have night vision?"

"It's all part of the show, dearest," said the woman next to her.

Shuichi thought for a second.

…

And another.

…

And a-

…

They stole the lights didn't they. --- Kokichi Ouma had to be honest with himself, as he continued on his circuitous route throughout the vents which overlooked the first show of fashion week in Milan, stealing all the lights from this year’s venue wasn’t very inspired. He was essentially reusing the Taipei 101 idea that hadn’t come to fruition, but Queen had insisted he needed a powerful light for his next project and the rest of DICE seemed to have formed some sort of blood pact to support whatever his next heist idea was as long as he didn’t make them watch the cinematic masterpiece Cats (2019) at their last movie night.

Kokichi himself hadn’t actually seen Cats (2019) yet. He kept reminding himself to, after hearing of its reported cursedness, but he just hadn’t gotten around to it. DICE had watched it for the first time without him, and now every time Queen brought it up Kokichi felt obligated to shut him down for the sake of maintaining his own authority. “Now Queen, obviously I love Cats (2019) directed by Tom Hooper and starring Franceska Hayward, as a fellow enthusiast of the cinematic arts, but for the sake of everyone else…” Cue eight sighs of relief courtesy of your one and only super awesome boss.

While thinking absentmindedly about his and the cinematic masterpiece Cats (2019)’s passing like two ships in the night, Kokichi checked where all his pieces should be on his internal chessboard. The locations of four fake guards, two fake handymen, and three vent crawlers popped up on the schematics he had memorized of the event hall. All busy dismantling lighting equipment or keeping an eye on a certain detective.

The word detective sent a third train of thought spiraling. Saihara really had shown up, hadn’t he? Kokichi hadn’t even sent a note this time and the detective was already here in the front row of the audience. That was probably the main reason Kokichi felt it was fair to upcycle the same plan from Taipei. Usually he’d get bored of an idea after tossing it around for a bit, so he had to act fast before his own lack of motivation became his undoing, but with Saihara around he didn’t have to worry about entertaining himself with his plans. Whatever the detective would do in response was bound to be far more interesting.

Okay he was almost in position for the first hit, and Ace was about to cause the black out in 5… 4… 3…

Oup, the light already turned off. Now Kokichi was just shuffling through the dark old vent getting ready to drop down and steal the lights from whatever room was beneath him while counting to himself about nothing and having three incongruous trains of thought at the same time.

The reason behind Kokichi’s super special secret ability to be thinking about three things at once was that A) he was a genius and 1) he was still on a sugar high from the gelato that he and his hench people had gotten for breakfast, and everyone knows sugar make brain work good.

Also! Gelato is just like… Ice Cream ++. Just like, better ice cream. It was just smooth and creamy instead of cold and chunky all the time. Kokichi could eat a lot more of it without getting a brain freeze than the regular stuff, and he wanted to get as much of it in him as possible before they left Italy forever. He’d ‘reluctantly’ promised they’d get some more to celebrate after the heist was done, but it was mostly because when they were plotting their escape he didn’t want to deal with a sugar cr-

*CREEEEAAAAAAK*

No, a crash, silly vent making a stupid noise, a sugar cra-

*CRACKOOM*

That was the last sound Kokichi heard before the ceiling crumbled beneath him. --- Shuichi Saihara realized that, by all means, the black out was rather clever. It completely stifled any immediate action on the part of an investigator. Even if Shuichi was right and it was the stage lights that were stolen, waiting to confirm the fact would only give the thieves more time to escape. He’d probably be able to bumble around in the dark searching for the entrance, but then what?

Then his phone buzzed.

Oh. Duh. He thought.

Quickly he pulled out his phone, swiping aside whatever thing Kaito had just sent him to access his phone’s flashlight feature.

"Lights!" He shouted. "Use your cellphones as lights!"

He repeated these directions once more in the best Italian he could manage, hoping he sounded authoritative enough to garner a response.

There was a great shuffling all around him as the audience muttered and reached for their phones.

Then, as Shuichi turned on his own phone's flashlight and raised it up, he watched everyone in the audience do the same. Hundreds of little lights flickered on around him, the image of the runway becoming clearer every second.

As if that were their planned cue all along, the first models began to strut down the catwalk, every glitzy gown and sparkly suit seemingly illuminated by a thousand stars in the night sky. The audience oohed and aahed, and maybe Shuichi would've found the sight pretty cool too if he hadn't been looking up at an entirely different catwalk altogether. The lighting deck above had apparently been stripped bare during the black out. Shuichi knew that both sides of that catwalk let out to the heavily guarded backstage area. So where did DICE go?

Wait… were those horizontal air vents over the catwalk?

Shuichi started making his way over to the security guards near the exit.

God, when would architects of security systems ever learn? Why would you ever put a horizontal vent right above whatever it is you're trying to not get stolen? It's child's play! Any thief with at least one limb or a very ambitious set of teeth could steal something with a horizontal vent over it, and yet no one ever thought to check them until it was too late!

When he reached the guards he said hurriedly in a low tone, “We need to check the vents right now.”

Both guards gave him weird looks and Shuichi felt his confidence immediately wither.

“Parla solo italiano.” Said the guard to the right with the long dark brown hair tied in a tight bun. Speak only Italian. Shit.

Uh. Okay. Um.

“I ladri hanno... colpito,” Okay, ladri means thieves. Yeah. Uh. Was colpito the right word? Maybe? It sounded like culprit. What was the word for air vent again... “Controllare l'uscita… dell'aria!” Yeah! It was dell’aria. Okay. Good. Italian spoken.

Except now she was giving him an even weirder look.

“Cosa hai detto signore? Lardo hanno colpito? Qualcuno sta lanciando lardo tra il pubblico? Lardo nelle prese d'aria?”

Ah. Uh. That was a lot of words. Cosa… hai detto… what did you say sir. And then. Something about lard?

“Lardo….” Had she not heard him correctly through the loud music of the show happening behind them? His eyes wandered to the other guard, a man about the same height as the woman with the same dark brown hair color. Both guards were wearing sunglasses, but the man’s face suddenly scrunched with obvious anger.

“Hey! Are you calling me fat?” He accused with no hint of Italian accent.

… What? Why would he… Unless…

The woman cracked her knuckles. “Ti faccio vedere dov'è il lardo, ragazzo duro.”

Before Shuichi could even begin to decipher what that meant, the woman put him in a headlock.

DICE . Shuichi realized as the man took a cloth out of his pocket. Shuichi smelled the sweet, familiar scent of a volatile anesthetic. Probably chloroform or something of the sort….

Luckily this wasn’t the first time Shuichi had been in a headlock, and she wasn’t even holding a knife to his neck. He tucked his chin into the arm restraining him, holding it with his right hand as he brought his left up and over the front of her face. In one smooth motion he flipped her over on her back.

Officer Chabashira had taught him that. Tenko had been one of his better friends on the force. Though she spent most of her time beating up other cops for being misogynist pigs than catching criminals. Then again that strong sense of justice was something Shuichi actually liked about her. He hadn’t seen much of her after she quit the force, though. He heard she opened a studio for something called “neo-aikido” but had been too afraid of too many things, like that she wouldn’t recognize him and that things would be awkward and then she would yell at him for being a degenerate male, to check it out. It was probably for the best anyway. If she were here right now, she’d definitely yell at him for betraying the number one rule of her aikido teachings...

“Shuichi don’t use neo-aikido on girls. If a girl tries to kill you, you deserve it.”

Said “girl” trying to kill him landed in a roll, and probably would have tried to grapple him again if she hadn’t crashed into a nearby audience member.

Shuichi made a break for the exit. He expected to be intercepted by the other guard, but the man turned instead to help up his partner.

“You okay, sis?” He asked concernedly.

“I’d be better if you weren’t letting him get away, lo stupido!” She replied tartly and also, Shuichi noted, without much accent.

He managed to get through the doors and found that the guards that had been assigned to stand outside the entrance were no longer there. That meant that he would most likely have to find his way backstage by going around the building if he wanted back up, so he started running.

He’d probably have to shake his tails first, he reminded himself as the doors burst open again behind him.

Shuichi changed course, making a couple of quick turns. Around the corner near the exit he saw the sign for the men’s bathroom. Of course! The bathroom! There would definitely be a vent outlet in the bathroom.

He opened the door and quickly ducked in. He hoped that the DICE members wouldn’t follow him in before he got to the-

Shuichi froze.

The scene that lay before him was one familiar to him since childhood, but yet every time he saw it he hoped to never see it again.

A body was sprawled face down on the bathroom tile, blood splattered on the ground all around the head. Shuichi realized that he recognized the blood soaked hair’s strange purple color, although it seemed to be tied back for some reason… He looked up at what was apparently a hole in the ceiling and deduced that the thief had been crawling through the vents when he fell. The rubble on the ground around him seemed to confirm that. Shuichi…. Shuichi couldn’t tell if he was breathing from here.

What a way to end the thief’s crime spree...

He willed himself to put one foot in front of the other. Then he did so again. Then he got over his shock and walked up to the body. These things get easier, he reminded himself.

Shuichi kneeled down to take a look, careful not to contaminate any of the blood spatter with his shoes. There… really was a lot of blood. There were no obvious signs of breathing…

Okay. Shuichi needed to check the pulse to see if he should call an ambulance. Maybe there was still a chance…

He reached for the man’s wrist-

The man suddenly sprung up, thrusting his huge grinning, and now blood covered, clown mask into Shuichi’s personal space. “It’s a lie!” He exclaimed

Shuichi startled, falling on the floor. Shock ran through him as the thief began to cackle his signature laugh.

“Did I surprise you?” He teased, blood pouring down his mask, “Were you going to scream and cry in terror?”

Shuichi looked at him in shock for a solid ten seconds. The thief in return looked at him, leaning back and forth a little dazedly. Shuichi watched a drop of blood separate itself from the man’s chin, going to join the puddle on the floor.

“Oh, sorry…” The man disrupted the silence. “I should be saying something real witty just about now… I’m just a little light-headed from the blood loss. Yeah. This is. This is real blood.”

Then the shock was over and Shuichi found himself reacting by standing up, grabbing the thief, and putting him in a standard police academy arm lock on the ground. As much as the move required speed, Shuichi tried to be mindful of the head wound. He didn’t want to give the thief the chance to escape like his mistake in Taipei had, but he also didn’t want to further injure him.

The man still made a grunt of pain when he hit the ground. “Wow, detective, you’re a lot better at police brutality than you are at dressing for fashion shows.”

Shuichi remembered the people in the front row of the show who had been giving him odd looks. He frowned. “What’s wrong with the way I dress?” He muttered as he tried to figure out how he could hold this guy down and also grab a bandage from his coat pockets. Which were very functional, thank you very much.

“Well, some people might say that the all dark clothing kind of makes you look like an evil villain.” He said with the same dazed tone in his voice. How much blood was he losing? Shuichi couldn’t tell with the mask still on. He moved to take it off-

The door opened and Shuichi saw two security guards come in and Shuichi turned slighty to look at them. Thankfully they weren’t the two from before. Perhaps they had figured out the vents were the escape route already and had come to investigate?

“Like those guys.” The man beneath him muttered on. “They might think black clothing is kinda.. Villain looking. Not me though, I think you look like a sexy motorcycle.”

Shuichi frowned at him. Wow, he sounded very loopy. He was losing a lot of blood.

Shuichi turned to address the guards, who were seemingly frozen in shock. “Scusa... ma potra-no, uh, tresti, potresti chiamare,” what was the gender for ambulance again? “a-ambulanza-”

The woman from before burst in, the other DICE member pretending to be a security guard at her heels. She pointed at Shuichi, exclaiming, “L'uomo in cima a quel brutto bambino è colui che ci ha attaccato!”

“Vroom vroom” The man beneath him giggled out before Shuichi was picked up by the two guards and slammed against the wall.

“Sei sicuro che sia lui?” One of them said to the Italian-speaking DICE member. “Quest'uomo sembra molto debole.”

“Quello è lui. Deve essere uno dei ladri.” She was… calling him one of the thieves? “Sono addestrati in aikido, ricordi l'incontro informativo?”

“Certo, certo.” Said the guard in response, obviously lying. If he had been to the l'incontro informativo - the informational meeting - then he would know who Shuichi was.

“Tu non capisci!” Shuichi exclaimed.

“Stai zitto, straniero.” The other guard shoved him up harder against the wall.

“Boss! What happened to you?” The male DICE member exclaimed.

His “boss” propped himself up on his elbow and swung his legs like a tweenager at a sleepover party. “Well, it’s a funny story! But at this rate I’m going to pass out from blood loss before I tell it to you!” His lackey gave him a concerned look. “Neeheehee… just kidding.”

“Wait I-” Shuichi started to say. The guards shoved him harder against the wall and he winced before going on. “I have some bandages and gauze in my pockets somewhere.”

The DICE members all turned to look at him. The man who had dressed as a guard looked at him hopefully, but the bleeding thief only gave him a blank stare and the woman fixed him with a steely glare.

“Aiuteremo questo piccolo bambino straniero.” She said icily. “Voi due potete prendervi cura del criminale.”

“What can I say Saihara?” The thief muttered as his lackeys helped him up. “Ya.. Ya shouldn't've worn all black to fashion week. Yup. That’s the… That’s the moral here.”

As they shuffled away, Shuichi realized there was nothing he could do. Even if he fought both security guards and managed to escape somehow, it would only prove to them that he really was a threat, and that was aside from the fact that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to capture the thieves on his own. He’d have to wait until they brought him to someone who actually recognized him and by then it would be too late.

The impossible is possible, all you gotta do is make it so.

“... I’ll stop you.” The detective said, resolution clear in his voice.

“I’d like to see you try.” The thief muttered in response.

Then the door shut. --- “Man… You’re really bleeding a lot there, boss…” Clubs muttered as Kokichi buckled himself into the seatbelt of their getaway car. After putting him down in the back seat, Clubs got in next to him, taking his usual spot in the middle seat even though there wasn’t really a need yet. Maybe he was anticipating the arrival of the rest of the group. Or maybe he was just being Clubs. And Clubs always sat in the middle seat. Not because of a reason but because he did. People operated from their own internal self as if the person they constructed from their thoughts and actions was more important to maintain than any law in the land.

Italian cars were… really weird huh? Very smooth… Like, like… Gelato.

“I’m fine.” He said. Ugh how unconvincing. “I’m just... pretending to bleed.”

Clubs frowned at him. “How could you possibly pretend to bleed?”

Kokichi was! Going to come up with a very, very good explanation. As soon as he just… sucked that blood back in… yeah… gelato… they were supposed to get gelato…

“He can’t.” Spades ducked her head into the car. “We need to stop it. Do you have a cloth or anything on you?”

“Only the one…” Kokichi muttered. He was thinking about the kerchief he still had in his pocket from the detective. Not that either Spades or Clubs knew that. They probably just thought he was going crazy. Well fine he didn’t want them to know about it anyway. They’d just get blood on it.

“Here,” Clubs took off his own bandana and put it on Kokichi’s head. “He’s still bleeding.” He reported.

“That’s why we’re taking him to a hospital.” Spades replied, now taking her place in the driver’s seat of the gelato car.

Ugh, what? No.

“You can’t take me to a hospital. It’s the first place they’ll look.” He wasn’t going to let the detective catch him at a hospital of all places… What kind of Phantom Thief got caught in a hospital… Lame… Lamey-lamey-lamooo….

Spades put the key in the car and started it. “Fine. We’ll go to a mafia doctor if we have to.”

Kokichi shook his head and felt the fluids roll around inside and outside of his skull. Part of him wondered if he could just sit in this car forever and bleed out until he died. The other part of him was sure that he was doomed to be immortal. “Nope. You crazy or something? We cannot get mixed up in organized crime. They murder people and we don’t do capitalism. Crime should be disorganized or else-”

“Okay! Fine! We’ll go to a fucking Farmacia and pray that you don’t have a concussion!”

Kokichi snorted. “I can’t have a concussion. I’m too smart.”

Clubs gave him a look. “Boss, do you know what a concussion is?”

Kokichi squinted. He’d only ever seen the word being used by people making fun of jocks on the internet. “Isn’t it like a sports thing?”

“Well, actually,” Clubs said in an informative tone of voice. “It’s a serious brain injury.”

“You listening to your fortnite buddies again?”

“No, we learned that in junior high.”

Hah. School. Lameass. Kokichi never needed school. Who needs school when you have google, video games, and anime?

“I’m a serious brain injury already, I think I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t be, you could die.” Spades was on her phone, probably looking up italian pharmacies.

That would be fine too. Haha. What a good… A good joke… brain…

“I’m just woozy. I need… like a gelato. We’re getting gelato. We gotta wait for the rest of the gang so we can get gelato.”

“No, I texted them, they can all fit in the other car, you need medical attention.

Kokichi frowned. “There’s seven of them. That car’s a five seater.”

“We’re clowns boss.”

Right. Clowns.... Clowns…. Horses.

“Sis, don’t you think we should wait for King? He’s got his nurse certification, so he should be the one to help with injuries.”

Horses?

“No, this is a different kind of thing Clubs, with head injuries you have to act fast. King can catch up to us with the rest.”

Why weren’t there clown horses?

“Boss, don’t fall asleep. Clubs, make sure he stays awake. See if you can find concussion tests online” She handed her brother her phone.

Kokichi imagined a horse in clown makeup… they’d have to make it a real big red nose. Juicy like gelato…

“Boss, stay with us.”

“Only if we’re going to get… get gelato.” --- Shuichi Saihara was still in police custody, locked alone in one of the back rooms of the fashion week venue and wrestling with his own inadequacy, as he often did, when Agent Ishimaru arrived. He was holding a briefcase.

The interpol agent usually announced himself loudly to whatever room he was in, but today he entered quietly, closing the door in that stiff way of his before sitting down at the interrogation table across from Shuichi.

Shuichi expected him to start yelling again.

He didn’t.

Instead he said, “Mr. Saihara. I am disappointed to see you here.”

“... I am too.” Shuichi said after a moment’s pause. “I almost caught the thief today.”

Kiyotaka looked like he was about to say something along the lines of a reprimand, but he paused and took a breath instead. “Perhaps… perhaps you did.”

Shuichi was still trying to piece this together. Was Kiyotaka mad at him or not?

“But, Mr. Saihara, I would ask you to consider…” He paused. He put the briefcase on the table, but didn’t open it. “That it is not your job to catch this thief.”

Shuichi felt indignant at that. But clearly Kiyotaka was going somewhere with this. “... as a detective, I often find it is my job to solve crimes.”

“You-” Kiyotaka grimaced. “I must apologize, Mr. Saihara, for speaking so obtusely. Yet there are some matters of rule violation recently brought to my attention that require me to handle this situation with a delicacy I am not known for.”

Oh… was this about…

“Just tell me the truth.” Shuichi said.

Kiyotaka took another breath.

“Shuichi Saihara, it has recently aggrieved me to know that you have recently been impersonating an interpol officer at crime scenes involving the DICE cases to further your vigilante investigations. Is this true?”

Vigilante was a little harsh…

“Yes.” Shuichi replied honestly. “I have been asking local law enforcement for access to flight records and airport security information in order to track down DICE--” Kiyotaka visibly tensed at this admission, but Shuichi kept going, “--but I sent every piece of info I’ve uncovered to your team. I know that it’s against your protocol to respond to them, but I’ve been right every time and-”

“And to some that could be very suspicious.” Ishimaru finished for him.

Shuichi grew wary. “What do you mean?” He asked.

Ishimaru sighed. “Do you know the name Kyosuke Munakata?”

“Yes.” Shuichi replied. “Isn’t he the new Secretary General?”

“Yes. The officer in charge of our day-to-day practice. He is my direct superior.” Ishimaru began opening the suitcase, which had two simple latches sealing it shut. He took out a small white envelope and handed it to Shuichi. “This is from him.”

Shuichi took the envelope and looked it over. There was no address on the outside, or stamp, or anything really. Just a foil laminate seal, with two characters interlaced stylistically in it. “未” and “来.” Future.

“You do not need to open it here.” Ishimaru went on. “But I can tell you what it says, if you want.”

Shuichi set the letter down on the table, “What does it say?” he asked.

“If what my superior has told me is to be believed, it is an offer of employment.”

What.

His disbelief must have shown on his face, because when Ishimaru kept going he acknowledged, “I was just about as surprised as you. To see my superior want to reward a rule breaker such as yourself… but then he explained it to me like this. He said, ‘If that young man was able to use our resources to such consistent efficiency, then he should see no problem with transparently putting his methods towards our cause. But if he is not so transparent and refuses our offer, well then we have reason to suspect his intent in this case.’”

Shuichi blinked. Really?

“You’re saying that… the Secretary General suspects that I’m in league with DICE.”

“That is correct.”

"But I-"

"Frankly I do not agree with Secretary General Munakata's deduction."

That was… some relief at least.

"I think that you will refuse this opportunity because, despite your tendency to believe the law does not apply to you simply because you don't believe in it, you are a good detective."

That was… not not where Shuichi thought that sentence would go.

Ishimaru pulled a chunky manilla folder out of the briefcase next. And then another one. And another. And… yeah he ended up pulling out five overflowing manilla folders.

"Do you know what this is?"

"... No."

"This is a print out of the files we have on you."

"What?" They had files? About him? What was he, an international security threat?

Oh… Maybe that was what Ishimaru had just finished telling him wasn’t it...

"Each of these files is a year since you joined the Towa city police force." Ishimaru gestured towards two slightly thicker files. "And these are the two years after you quit." He riffled the papers coming out of the side of one of the folders with his thumb. "Each packet of paper in these outlines a specific contribution you have made to getting a case solved. Everything from missing kids to the Novoselic Diamond case."

Oy vey...

"There's about forty or so cases in each of these files. That means you solve, on average, forty cases in a year. That's about three cases every month."

That wasn't so much. It wasn’t uncommon for Shuichi to be looking into more than one case at once. Except this month…

"This month you've solved zero cases.” Ishimaru seemed to read Shuichi’s mind, but the statistics hit him like a knife to the chest when read aloud. “You've been too busy doing what? Chasing a troupe of clowns who nab the occasional toilet or light fixture?"

… ouch.

"I don't mean to be harsh, Mr. Saihara, I really don't. You'll have to forgive my tone. But these DICE guys simply aren't worth your time. A month spent chasing them is a month you could use to much better effect on a different case. One involving the safety of children or national treasures, rather than the carpets of closing museums."

Ishimaru paused, letting Shuichi absorb what he just said. Then he started placing the folders back in the briefcase.

"So, Mr. Saihara, I think that I may be able to get my superior off your back, but only under two conditions."

He closed the lid of the case.

"The first being that you reveal to us in detail whatever method you have used to divine DICE's machinations from airport documents."

He closed the latch on the right of the briefcase.

"And the second being that you return home effective immediately and cut all ties with this case."

He closed the latch on the left.

"Do you find issue with these terms?"

His usually active hands found a resting place atop the case.

“...”

“Well?”

Shuichi couldn't quite understand how he had gotten here. In his head, until this moment, it really had seemed like he had been doing the right thing. He remembered that when he first latched onto the DICE case he had managed to keep it on the back burner while he dealt with the cases of clients. It had struck him as odd that a string of high scale robberies such as theirs would go unchecked for so long, going back five years or more. It hinted, to him at least, at a missing factor. Perhaps each hit was a calculated strike paid for by a foreign government, or a scheme funded by an underground criminal organization, or perhaps just another play at developing a network of untraceable capital to benefit a small group of people. Yet when was the last time Shuichi had spent any serious time looking into those connections?

It occured to Shuichi, then, that perhaps his ego was behind the wheel of the past month or so, when he'd spent the majority of his time exclusively tracking down DICE. Instead of actually assessing the threat that DICE posed, if any at all, he wasted time tracking down where they would strike next. To do what, catch them in the act? He didn't have the power to arrest them if he did. Even now, when he was closer than ever, all he had done was worsen his already tenuous relationship with the international police. The only plausible motive behind his own actions was that he investigated DICE simply because he knew that he could and he thought that he could do it better than anyone else.

But that wasn't true, was it?

He might think he was especially clever, but as soon as he revealed his methods that special cleverness would run out.

And he was tired, wasn't he? His head was perpetually sore, his eye sockets ached, and his limbs were weighed down by a the familiar slowness of a confused circadian rhythm anytime he didn't have a cup of coffee in his hand.

What Ishimaru had just done with the case files felt like an intervention. Like when TV nutritionists would show someone how many Coca-Colas they drank a month by building a tower of cans or filling a swimming pool with them in order to stop that person from drinking so many Coca-Colas… except Shuichi's Coca-Colas were investigative contributions to criminal offenses.

Maki had been right. He needed a break from this case. What kind of detective was he anyway…

Shuichi swallowed the lump forming in his throat and started talking.

"Well the only thing from the airport you need are logs of ticket purchases and the security footage from the gates if those aren't enough. DICE is an organization of ten people, so you're always looking for a bulk purchase of 9 to 10 tickets at the same time, although they can be from different airports... It doesn't matter who the tickets are purchased by or what identities are attributed to them, only that they're purchased at the same time. I say 9 or 10 tickets because sometimes DICE members will infiltrate the flight crew."

"Like in Paris."

"Like in Paris." Shuichi confirmed. "From there you can essentially pin down what flight they're on. Then you can figure out the general vicinity of the next crime… and I think from there is mostly luck."

"I don't believe in luck.” Ishimaru pressed on. “I believe in hard work. I think the same can be said for you."

Haha. Maybe.

Shuichi was hard pressed to think of anything that wasn’t already pretty obvious, though.

"... I suppose if you really cared to, I would think up all the possible targets after some preliminary research and try to warn them. You probably know this already… but DICE's targets have a trend of being rather famous or rather high security locations in big cities. Honestly, though, a lot of my encounters with them were due to chance."

He really wasn’t lying about that. The Paris, Taipei, and Cairo encounters were essentially pure coincidence.

Ishimaru paused, seemingly weighing this information for any fraudulence in his head. Then, he simply nodded. "Very well, Mr. Saihara. Thank you for cooperating with our investigation."

The agent stood, picking up his briefcase. "I hear that you've already given your testimony to the Italian authorities. In truth, however, we expect this case to be wrapped up shortly regardless of the details of this particular robbery, considering the substantial forensic evidence left by the perpetrator of these crimes." That was one way to refer to a pool of blood on the bathroom floor... "Is this of any consolation to you?"

"Yes, some." Shuichi felt the untruth of the statement even as he said it. It wasn’t how he would run the case, if he were in charge. Blood tests were highly unreliable for tracking down a criminal that could be from anywhere in the world, especially in a contaminated place like a bathroom. And if that criminal has never been taken into police custody or gotten blood work done before then the test would be completely useless. As a detective, he’d want to do his due diligence at the crime scene anyway…

… But this wasn’t his case anymore, was it?

Ishimaru took him at his word.

"Very well," He said.

The man pulled out of his pocket a phone, which Shuichi realized to be his own, and handed it to him.

"Your coat and other confiscated items are outside. Feel free to leave at any time."

Ishimaru did a quick bow in lieu of a verbal farewell, leaving the room in an orderly fashion.

After the door shut, Shuichi was in silence again.

He turned on his phone. As the screen lit up, he was greeted by a few messages from Kaito. He remembered, guiltily, swiping them aside when he had taken out his phone before his confrontation with DICE.

Now, he opened them. --- [Log of Text Messages from Shuichi Saihara’s Cellular Device]

From: Kaito

Hey Shuichi

How’s it going man

From: Kaito

Are you like chasing clowns right now

Text me when you’re not chasing clowns down

From: Me

I am no longer in the career of chasing clowns down

From: Kaito

Oh shit for real??

Did you catch them?

From: Me

I was just asked not to try to catch them

Very politely

By interpol

From: Kaito

Haha

That’s my sidekick

Making the international police scared for their jobs every day of the week

From: Me

That’s a funny way to look at it...

From: Kaito

Hey don’t be blue about it Shuichi

You got off the clown catching clock at a good time

If you catch a flight home sometime this week you could come with us to the open house at JAXA on friday!

From: Me

Oh is that this friday?

Man I totally

Spaced

On that

From: Kaito

Aklsjdfasflkdj

Since when do you do puns

From: Me

I would be fine if you deleted those messages actually

From: Kaito

Too late I already sent that to Maki

From: Me

:( rude

From: Kaito

She says she’s disappointed in both of us now lol

From: Me

Haha that sounds like Maki

why would she be disappointed in you tho lol

From: Kaito

There might be something I forgot to tell you

From: Me

What?

From: Kaito

Do you remember when we were in DC

I had to go to NASA (america’s JAXA basically) and meet with some people

And then I told you I had to tell you something over steak dinner

But then you had to tell me you said you wanted to do a “stake out” not “go out for steak”

And we kind of forgot about it

From: Me

Oh uh

Vaguely?

From: Kaito

Well

The thing i was going to tell you and then forgot to tell you

Is that I’m going on my first mission next week

From: Me

A space mission

From: Kaito

Yeah

Just to the ISS though

I’m gonna be running experiments in the kibo module

For a few months

Maybe a year

From: Me

You’re leaving next week?

How long have you known?

From: Kaito

Like, a few months

From: Me

From: Kaito

Haha yeah

Kinda forgot to tell you

Thats on me

From: Me

Its fine

From: Kaito

Phew glad i got that off my chest

Can you believe Maki Roll thought you’d be mad at me?

From: Me

Haha what

No its fine

Everything’s cool --- [Log of Text Messages from Shuichi Saihara’s Cellular Device]

From: Me

What the hell???

From: Maki

I know right???? --- Shuichi put down his phone, feeling like a plate on a table that just got the table cloth pulled from beneath it and yet some how found itself shockingly sedentary. He internally recalculated his schedule. He'd need to get on the next plane to Japan as fast as he could.

He opened the door. The lights outside the holding room seemed to have been taken as well. There was an officer with a flashlight who helped him grab his stuff.

Weirdly, on the way out, Shuichi looked back through the little window in the door to the holding room. The lights had gone out in it as well. Wait… wasn't there a vent in that room too?

As soon as the thought occurred to Shuichi he forcefully extinguished it.

Not my case. He reminded himself.

Then he turned, nodded to the officer, and walked out the door. --- Kokichi Ouma sat in the back seat of one of DICE's get away cars with a fresh bandage wrap on his head, slurping street vendor Gelato and trying to convince himself this was another win. Sure, the heist went well. Rook, King, and Queen had been on vent duty with him and had managed to sweep up his unfinished light fixture nabbing route. They were actually about to pick Rook up from the final rendezvous point right that second.

Which brought Kokichi to the discrepancies indicating he may be suffering a loss here.

For starters, no one was smiling. They had just pulled off a major haul and nobody was happy about it. Kokichi thought that if he got into the car where no one had seen him go splat from ceiling to floor he wouldn't have to deal with this, but Queen, King, and Bishop were really out here acting like he had died or something. He didn't even have a concussion! They did all the tests! King checked him out like forty times, he just cut himself on the edge of the broken vent!

But Bishop was stone faced behind the wheel and Queen kept pausing the tikkertap of his fingers on the keyboard to look back at Kokichi. Even King was just sitting there trying not to stare at him. Kokichi could tell he was worrying about him because if King wasn't worrying about him then he would be texting Rook. Those two were insufferable. Did he say insufferable? He meant inseparable. Like they always say next to each other when they could and texted each other the entire time they couldn't. If King was texting them it meant he was looking for emotional support because he was worrying about Kokichi but thought that he should try and make sure Kokichi didn’t know he was worrying about him, which was annoying as hell.

They weren't looking at him like their boss right now, they were looking at him like their kid brother.

He tried not to let that turn his stomach. He had gelato left to put in there, after all.

Ok, them thinking he was weak for bleeding out wasn’t the only option here. Maybe they were just antsy to be done with this heist.

Kokichi couldn’t really argue with that sentiment, though. Not because this one was a trash fire, even though it kind of was, but because he wanted to get onto the next one. Once they picked up Rook, they could figure out where they were going next and Kokichi would have another chance to match wits with the detective. With Kokichi's big screw up today it had only been due to Spades and Clubs's intervention that he hadn't gotten caught. Saihara was right on his tail and Kokichi still had no idea how he was doing it. It was like a puzzle, like an actually hard one. Kokichi spent a few moments thinking up possible methods, crossing out a few, and sorting the rest of them into piles based on likelihood in his head.

He only realized he had been silently spacing out for six minutes when the car stopped. He heard the trunk open and close

King scooted over into the middle seat and Rook came in to sit on the right hand side behind Queen. Kokichi thought about that for a second, because King had automatically assumed that he should be the one to move to the middle seat. Did it speak to Kokichi’s authority that it wasn’t even a consideration that he should move over to let Rook into the car, or did it speak to their interpretation of his fragility? Well, Kokichi was never asked to move over in the back seat. Then again, he usually sat in the front. Wait, wasn’t he in the seat behind the driver? There was a gif set online somewhere where two white guys are in a car and one explains to the other how the seat behind the driver’s is the safest seat in the car. Had everyone subconsciously thought of that gif set when they sat down in the car? Or were they merely following a pattern of behavior because Kokichi was never asked to move over when someone got in the car. In fact he was never asked to move over at all, not even when he was taking up a lot of space on the couch. Again, that could be a sign of his inherent authority. Except maybe it didn’t mean anything because DICE members asked each other to move over as a sign of antagonism and they just didn’t antagonize him like that. Were they afraid of him? Or maybe King just scooted over because Rook was coming in on his side-

Wait, rewind. Were they afraid of him?

Kokichi rethought the silence that had encompassed their ride thus far. Now that he reconsidered, the silence had almost seemed anticipatory, as if something were weighing on their minds more pressing than fresh banter or celebration. He had thought they were just anxious to finish off the operation, but now that Rook had stowed the goods and was safely in the car, the tense anticipation of something to come still hung heavy in the air.

As the car started back up, Kokichi noticed Rook and King exchange a glance. Bishop checked the rear view window at a suspicious angle. Rook’s hand went over the shoulder of the passenger seat, obviously palming something they were handing to Queen.

Kokichi spun a wheel in his head. Get out of the car? Confront them? Change the topic? Make them feel so bad for him they have to drop everything? Strike fear into their hearts of what his reaction would be towards untoward news? Maybe he should do a food crime to make them realize he was fine? Except he had finished his gelato, so what was he supposed to do? Eat the paper cup his gelato was-

Oh, oops.

While Kokichi had been considering what to do, it turned out he had also been methodically folding the finished gelato cup in his hands. Now, it was in his mouth.

Wow, he hadn’t thought this out, huh? He was trying to look less like a person with brain damage, not more . Well, too late to take the paper out of his mouth, he had already committed to the bit.

Kokichi pretended not to notice that everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch him with dawning horror as he chewed the former bowl to pulp in his mouth. It still tasted a little chocolatey. Mostly in an unsatisfying way, though. You know how when you eat the last bit off your spoon and you end up tasting mostly the spoon which just leaves you wishing you had more ice cream and it leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Except instead of a spoon it was this paper bowl. He felt the fibers dampen and rip apart under his teeth. The gnashing filled the car with sound.

Then he swallowed.

The car was once more filled with a petrified silence, this time on Kokichi’s terms.

“You four have been scheming behind my back.” He announced, emptying the car of silence with the sound of his voice.

At Kokichi’s words, everyone in the car flinched into an avoidant position. Bishop took the car out of park and started driving, Queen went back to typing on his computer, and King leaned as far away as he could from Kokichi without unbuckling.

Rook was the last player standing and braved looking Kokichi in the eyes.

“Uh. So.” They started roughly. “We just thought that….”

“I knew what you thought as soon as you volunteered for the last rendezvous point this morning.” Kokichi interrupted, bluffing wildly, “Just show me what you got out of it.”

“Just one sec, boss I’m uploading it to the computer.” Queen muttered, probably dragging around files from the SD card Rook had handed him. When he finally did turn the laptop around to show Kokichi, an audio player was open. He also noted on the task bar that file explorer,

Mozilla Firefox, and Fieldwire were open but minimized.

Kokichi grabbed the computer and put it in his lap before pressing play.

“Well the only thing from the airport you need are logs of ticket purchases and the security footage from the gates if those aren’t enough.” It took Kokichi a couple seconds to recognize the voice. “DICE is an organization of ten people, so you're always looking for a bulk purchase of 9 to 10 tickets at the same time, although they can be from different airports... ”

Kokichi opened Fieldwire. It was the program that DICE used to share blueprints with one another. Queen had started a new project that had been shared only with Bishop. He opened it.

“It doesn't matter who the tickets are purchased by or what identities are attributed to them, only that they're purchased at the same time.”

It took Kokichi a few moments to figure out what exactly he was looking at.

“I say 9 or 10 tickets because sometimes DICE members will infiltrate the flight crew.”

They were blueprints for a plane.

“Like in Paris” A new voice cut into the recording.

“Like in Paris” Shuichi replied.

There was a minute left on the recording. That was how long Kokichi had to figure out what the hell was going on here and what his response should be.

Detective Saihara using information from airports had been a possibility that crossed his mind before, but Kokichi hadn’t highlighted it any more than his other theories, which ranged from secret spy gear, to omniscience, or to just plain old random chance.

Obviously the same could not be said for those of his cohort. They had suspected public air transport was the root cause of their encounters with the Detective long enough for Queen to draw up these blueprints and recruit Rook to bring evidence for some sort of pitch they were planning.

They had figured the detective out before him.

Kokichi had thought of the detective’s successes as challenges, exciting roadside attractions to disrupt an otherwise monotonous road trip through life. How had he not stopped himself even once during the past month to ask himself how they looked to the rest of DICE? To his subordinates, Saihara’s successes seemed less like fun interruptions and more like real obstacles towards goals they all commonly held. In other words, setbacks revealing failures in Kokichi’s plans.

The worst thing was that Kokichi wanted to be angry at these four for this intervention bullshit. Angry that they took away some bit of mystery solving fun from him. Angry that they wanted to take away something that he had felt good about. Angry that they were undermining his authority by going behind his back.

But he wasn’t going to be angry. It was a stupid, pointless thing, his anger.

Being a supreme leader of ultimate evil isn’t all tulips and tirades. Everything Kokichi did needed to have a purpose, because he knew that DICE were always watching him, looking to him, making judgements and changing their perceptions of him in their minds.

What would being angry here accomplish? It would only strengthen their impression of his sudden unreasonableness. Even if he explained his motives, they didn’t hold up very well upon inspection. What was that Boss? You’re so bored by us that you feel the need to endanger us by playing mind games with a boot licking private eye while we do all the work? Oh yeah, we totally understand. Wait right there while we never fully trust you with anything ever again.

If anything DICE had a right to be angry at him. What had he been doing these past few weeks? How had they figured out this plane thing before him?

Was there some part of him that was actively sabotaging himself? A part that wanted him to fail just for the thrill of it? Maybe he had known how Saihara was really tracking them, but had just ignored the obvious answer because he didn’t want the mystery to be over yet.

How could his friends trust him if he didn’t even trust himself?

Kokichi had ten seconds to wrap up this train of thought before the recording was finished. No more questions, only answers, lets go.

The plans for the airplane were by all means exactly what DICE would be looking for in a plane. It was small enough as to not require a massive amount of runway space but large enough to house everyone comfortably. There were some rather intricate illustrations of those convertible mechanisms that Queen had gotten really into earlier that year. How long had he been planning thi- no questions. Fold out tables, couches, a TV, things that could turn a vehicle into an on the go hideout in the blink of an eye. Kokichi estimated the total cost of everything to come out to around ¥1,190,401,200. Which is. A lot of money. But most of that money would probably be for the engine, which if you buy legally would be around a billion yen. If he factored out buying legally, the rest of the blueprint would probably cost around ¥1,081,200, a much lower figure. Renting a hangar would cost a little less, but that price was more flexible depending on what Bishop said their monthly earnings were.

Kokichi googled ‘Japan Aerospace.’ He was in luck, the first thing that popped up was an article about a new JAXA mission.

The recording stopped.

Showtime.

Kokichi let them breathe in the silence a bit.

Then, when they were good and nervous, he enacted his plan.

“Bishop, tell Queen how much we earned this month.” He requested calmly.

Bishop replied readily, “About ¥2,000,000, Boss!”

Whoa. What? Were they really making that much a month? Kokichi supposed they had been robbing high security locales on a weekly basis, but somehow he had still viewed their team as barely scraping by. What was even the point of the heists anymore if they-

No time for questions, Kokichi had to use that figure right now.

“Do you know what that figure means, Queen?” Kokichi asked, knowing that Queen never thought about the monetary cost of his projects for more than three seconds.

“Uh… Money?” Yeah, okay, Kokichi needed to remember not to target Queen too much, even though he seemed to be the ringleader of this insurrection. That would only serve to force the other members of DICE to pick a side, which was not the ideal dynamic of a ten person group.

“It’s exactly how much money we would need to rent a hangar and build an airplane covertly in Kagoshima next month.” Kokichi clarified.

“... Uh boss,” Bishop interrupted hesitantly, “I hate to contradict you there, but most airplanes would cost a hundred times that-” “I’m not talking about how much it would take to build most airplanes.” Kokichi interrupted the interruption he had expected to occur. “I’m talking about how much it would take us to build an airplane.”

Kokichi then turned the laptop back around to show Queen the article about the manned launch to the ISS happening next week. He scrolled down to a picture of the engine taken at the launch site in Tanegashima. When Queen’s eyes lit up and King let out a sigh of relief, Kokichi knew that he had gotten away with it.

He managed to play off this whole month-long debacle as a waiting game, pretending that he had the very same understanding and intentions as the rest of them since the start of the month.

They’d get on different planes, booked at different times to the international airports in Tokyo, and then ship out to the JAXA launch site on Tanegashima, fuck things up a little and steal some rocket level engines. And Kokichi would stuff down the emptiness that curled in his gut at the lost prospect of a very interesting adversary.

… empty, huh?

Why would cutting his losses make him feel empty? Why-

No questions.

…

He should get some more gelato. Things were good when he was eating gelato.

#shuichi x kokichi #shuichi saihara #shuichi danganronpa #kokichi ouma #kokichi danganronpa #oumasai #saiouma #fanfiction #Phantom Thief AU #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #writing #im gay lol

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adoregoldenharry · 4 years

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Pop Princess h.s.

So this is a story I am writing on Wattpad only. This is only a snippet and it is currently ongoing. If you are interested then you can read it here: Pop Princess h.s.

(Not my gif)

My wattpad user : adoregoldenharry

Description:

Welcome to the world of fame and riches. Where Women and men are exploited for their god given talents. Kalisto Reed is anything but the average American girl. She's a pop icon turned disaster, as the gossip magazines like to put it. She finds herself in a girl group amongst others with a dream. One day she meets Harry Styles, the golden boy of pop music. Are they too different in each other's eyes? Or will that bring them together?

The beat of the wind lolling through the sky was calm and controlled. Palm leaved trees barely moving opposed to the usual impromptu force of wind. I sat outside on a dark wood lawn chair with blue and yellow striped cushions. The vitamins of the sun painting onto my skin and leaving their mark. The remnants of last night playing hide and seek in my brain.

Not much happened besides watching Shawn getting his face mushed into his cake by his family and everyone pointing their phones at him. I remember smiling and enjoying the moment knowing that someone could send me a video or two later on. The only other eventful thing would be after the conversation I had with Harry in the kitchen, we had gone our separate ways. I did catch his eyes looking for mine every chance it was allowed. It made me a little self conscious.

I was just staring into the sky with my over sized designer lenses. The clouds were coming in and slowly ridding the beams of light from the sky. I sighed watching the sunshine drift away. Closing my eyes seemed like the only solution to eternal relaxation on this day, so it's what I did. Then the door bell rang. "You're kidding me." I sat up sliding through the patio doors through to the entrance of my house.

"Were you swimming?" Shawn asked looking at my bikini. I shook my head moving aside to let him in. He was rather dressed up tonight aside form his usual jeans and tee shirt. His red dress shirt completed by the dark tone of his pants. Curls bouncing from his head in a 'I forgot to brush my hair' aesthetic. He was always one for dramatics. "Not that I don't love you and all but what are you doing here," I closed the door following him to my couch. Shawn sat himself on my leather couch bring me down with him. I could already feel my thighs getting stuck to the seats. "Since its my birthday..."

"You're birthday was yesterday." I interrupted him. He glared at me pulling a small giggle out of me. "As I was saying," He reiterated, " Since it's my birthday some friends and I are going out bowling tonight and I would like you to come." At this point I was already shaking me head. His jaw dropped and he stood abruptly from the couch. "And why not."

I shrugged, "I'm having a self care day."

"Move it to tomorrow," Shawn slouched back onto the couch. He was always so adamant. Honestly if it wasn't for him I would probably never leave my house. I found it comforting to be home where nobody could gossip about me or take an ugly picture that would be stuck on the Internet forever. He kept his eyes glued to me and before I knew it his bottom lip started puffing out. "No no, don't you start with that," I shoved his shoulder. Somehow some way this guy made his eyes sparkle in a way that it was just impossible to refuse any of his wishes. His charm and sleekness so intricate and obviously trained into him. He was a poodle.

I adjusted the strap on my bikini, rolling my eyes. "Fine."

He jumped up and pulled me into a hug. He hurried me and pushed me to my room to get changed. I rubbed my temples thinking about my absence of needing to find the right thing to wear. Settling with a color block inspired jumpsuit that really ended up being louder than I expected when I purchased it online. I looked at myself in my full length mirror studying what I saw. It's something I tried to get myself to stop doing yet here I was, doing it. For most of my life I've let my body define me because it was the epitome of this business. If you weren't pretty you would never make it far. People always made sure to let up their opinions on that. Being in the lime light was not fun or validating. It was toxic.

"You almost ready," Shawn shouted from the living room. With one last look I swept up my shoes to put on on the couch.

The sun barely started falling from its place in the sky. Street lamps igniting and making their nightly appearance. The top of Shawn's Jeep had been removed weeks ago according to him and it felt great. Nothing like a beach cruiser in a beach town. "Who are these friends that we're joining," I closed the mirror flap in front of me after applying lip gloss. "Oh you know," his voice faltered and his eyes kept on the dark asphalt.

I held my head up by my right arm leaning on the car door. My eyebrows shifting upwards waiting for him to continue his answer. "Just uh, Lenny, Kels, Aaron, uh Camila..."

I jumped in my seat. "Camila? You're serious."

"Look Kal, I know you don't exactly get along but please just do this for me." I huffed sitting straight back in my seat.

It was way more than not just getting along between me and Camila. There was this intense aura that surrounded the two of us when we were near each other. It was discomforting and unbeknownst to me why she baited such bad energy between us. It started when I first met her. Camila brought this sweet and girl tactic around with her. When I first started hanging around Shawn he introduced us and we got on well, so I felt. We were at a party at a mutual friend's house and took shots while making fun conversation.

That same night Shawn got up to use the restroom leaving us two to each other. Her first words alone with me were etched into my brain. "Don't get too comfortable, some people don't last too long around here." Ever since then she gave me a stink face at every event I saw her. Yet she loved to be around Leah, Audrey, and Mikayla. I was apparently some sort of bad omen to her. "I knew if I told you she was going you wouldn't come." I didn't answer, I just thought about what sort of night I was in for.

"And I really wanted you to come." He glanced back and forth between the road and me.

The bowling alley wasn't full to our luck. If it had been it would be Shawn's discretion to whether we would stay or not. We spotted our group at some lanes near the other side of the building.

"Harry is here. Why is Harry here. When did you two become so buddy buddy. You didn't say he was coming." I mumbled an edge of panic showing. He grabbed my wrist pulling me towards everyone. "Did I not say he was coming, I thought I did." I had a few choice words for my friend right now but we were too close to everyone at this point for me to shout like a sailor. Camila stood up and rushed to Shawn, hugging him and letting shrill noises come out of her mouth. I smiled at her which she didn't bother to return. Run up on me, I dare you.

I found myself in front of Harry who had a knowing grin on his face. "What a pleasant surprise." I rested my hands on my hips walking up to him where he sat on one of those plastic swivel chairs. "Fancy seeing you here, love." He stretched his long arms out and snuck them around my waist bringing me in for a tight hug. He smelled like vanilla and silk. I really hoped that harry couldn't feel or hear me sniffing him in. That would be very, not good.

"Be right back, I gotta go pick my balls." Harry laughed and stood up from his seat. "I'll come with you." We walked past the counters dividing the floor and the arcade. Lights were flashing in and out with loud stints of sound effects. The wall of balls not too far out from there. I tapped my hand on chin looking at the sizes and colors. "Why are the cute ones always so heavy," Harry stifled a laugh covering his mouth. I rolled my eyes jokingly, "Boys."

I decided on a nice orange color distorted one, only because I could actually carry it. Harry, however, whipped it right out of my hands holding it to his side with one arm. I tried to reach for it to which he protested. Insisting on carrying it for me.

He was saving the chivalry that men killed centuries ago. I could carry my own ball so to speak. I was honestly surprised by the night. Everyone seemed to have so much fun. I was happily entertained by the humor being passed around. Harry and Shawn were two jokers in cahoots. I couldn't stop laughing at one point to which I was of course teased about. Camila wasn't any bother either and I appreciated it. She stayed in her lane and I stayed in mine. I found myself staring a couple seconds too long at Harry.

The way his dimples got bigger with every inch of his smile. How he brushed his chiseled hands through his hair very often. Also how he focused with every sense on a person when they spoke. I was seeing experiencing his famous traits and wow did they project. He was mellow and hyper at the same time. It was exciting to watch. Harry turned to me and poked my cheek only lengthening my smile. I looked over to Shawn who was smirking at me. I sat up straight turning my attention back to Kels who was now rolling her heavy spheric rock down the lane. She got a strike and carefully walked back towards the ball return as she avoids slipping on the waxed floors. I've taken a spill or two in my time. Don't really like to talk about it.

It was ten till eleven and the alley was a little more packed. People were starting to recognize faces within the group so it was decided that after one more game that would be it for the night. I decided to pull out of the last game and strolled along to the arcade. I slid my hands over the air hockey table that sat vacant. Feeling for any air that might come from it. I huffed after I realized it had to be paid for before it turned on. 'What a let down' I thought to myself, leaning against the hunk of metal. "Wanna play with me?"

Harry walked up right behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a shit eating grin on his face that made me snort a bit of laughter. I nodded and stalked to one side of the air hockey table as he slipped a coin in the slot. Harry scrunched the sleeves of his black long sleeve up to his elbows. Slapping his hands together and then rubbing them in competition. I bit my lip trying not to give him the laughs he wanted. He could take them so easily from me. I wanted this to be harder but, he was so good and I was so easy for him. Right? "Fuck," Harry shouted when I made the first point. I jumped and cheered for myself while Harry furrowed his eyebrows readying himself for the next one.

I was sweating after six back and forth points. I needed just one more to knock him off. "Kal don't even think about it," Harry said watching me trying to cheat just a little.

"You don't even know what I was going to do," I dropped my shoulders staring at him in faux disbelief. Harry flipped his hair dramatically getting into another silly stance. I let the puck go back to the middle and tapped it towards him. He hit it back with a little more aggression than I had. I needed a strategy so I thought of something on the fly. "I really love the way your nails are painted," He picked up his paddle looking down at his nails. "Thanks I-," I smacked the puck with my paddle as fast as I could. The puck passed his slot down into the table. The scoreboard making noise announcing that I was the winner.

Harry's jaw had dropped and gently slapped his puck onto the table. "You tricked me."

"Oh. Did I? I'm sorry." I apologized with no guilt on my face whatsoever. He shook his head and crossed his arms walking around the table. He stuck his hand out to me mumbling a 'good game' to which I happily took. I was definitely a sore winner and like to rub my winnings in peoples faces sometimes. It was harmless on my end though so I will definitely keep doing so. Our friends were nearly done with their game. We looked for somewhere to sit and amazingly there was nowhere to drop our bottoms on seats. "Come on," Harry lead me back to the arcade where I had whooped him.

His tall figure bent down and stepped into the photo booth sitting on the small red bench. He held the curtain open for me coaxing me in with his eyes. The way he his stare held so much power was frightening. I squeezed in seeing that he took up most of the seat because well he wasn't the smallest person. He towered over me when we were standing and similarly when we sat. "We don't fit Harry," I laughed at how uncomfortably we sat. "Alright that's it." Harry rounded his hands at my hips and lifted me slightly to stand so he could position himself under me. Bringing my hips down so now I was sat on him. My breath quickened at the feeling and I felt light headed for a great moment. And for the next couple of minutes we just sat there. Enjoying each other's company. Until he started telling jokes that is. But I still enjoyed it. "Hey," I spoked trying to gather his attention, "Wanna do something fun."

Harry gave me quizzical look before I pulled three dollars out of my pocket. "You just carry change around like that in your pocket," I shrugged. Slowly straightening the dollars and then shoving them into the photo machine. We looked through the frames and filters finding the perfect ones for us. "Definitely that one." Harry poked a classy white frame for our strips. I agreed letting him poke the buttons. And not just because he had to lean and press his front against my back to do so. I felt a fire in my tummy that wanted to be let out. I didn't have the water to put it out. Not yet.

I pressed start and it began counting down. "Oh god what do we do." I never knew how to pose for these things. Harry placed his hand on the side of my face bringing it to sit on the side of his. We smiled and looked into the camera. Next we decided on a silly face and stuck our tongues out at each other. After the flash went off we both started laughing. His laugh was so sweet and melodic. It felt like the harmony of angel cries. Our laughs were quieting down but the intensity between us got louder. Green Rain by Mvzonik started to play in the background on surround sound in the bowling alley. I bit my lip again feeling like I was loosing control. Harry's eyes swiftly moved to my lips. Observing me in a very noticeable way. We had long forgotten about the photos.

I brought my hands up to his neck and his moved to my waist. In less than a second my lips were on his. They were so silky and plump, every girl's dream. His hands caressed my sides holding me still in place. The moment of our lips molding into each others felt blissful. Our eyes closed and yet it was pretty evident that the flash went off one more time. We pulled away staring in each others' eyes. Harry's mouth still slightly open and panting from current activities. I brushed his hair on the side with my hands. "Hey are you guys in there," a loud banging on the side of the machine. Harry and I jumped apart. I stood up almost bumping my head and fixed myself to make sure nothing looked out of place. I drew open the curtain walking out seeing Shawn standing against the wall, legs crossed. "Everyone's done let's get out of here and get you home."

I nodded looking back at Harry. "I can drive her." Harry spoke looking at me then to Shawn. "Yeah Harry can take me." Shawn nodded with a mischievous smile and gave me a hug. He shook hands with Harry talking a few words before leaving the two of us. Harry looked down at me making my cheeks turn red. Looking at him meant thinking about what just happened in this photo booth right next to us. He leaned over me with one hand on my waist. Plucking our two photo strips from the black plastic slot. "I rather like them."

Harry handed me one strip. I held the paper carefully in my hands not to wrinkle it. Three photos adorned the glossy memoir. One of us smiling, another of us being goofy, and the last of us sharing a kiss. A shy smile crept on to my face eating away at my nerves. "So do I." I laid my head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. We stood there for a few seconds before decided to head out. "You know if these photos ever get out, the media is going to have a field day."

"Well we did willingly hang out in public and made out in a photo booth. So I'd say we deserve it." We laughed walking hand in hand to his car.

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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lowsodiumfreaks67 · 5 years

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Some questions are difficult to answer

Sorry Iv been a little m.i.a bit I got a little something for y’all.

a/n : for some unknown reason this piece does not look right on tumblr mobile so I apologize in advance if its difficult to read, I also uploaded it to my wattpad if you want to read it there instead. @obsessionunhealthy

Summary : Its your first Supernatural convention of the year in Nashville because Seattle got Con-blocked. You’re joining your husband Jensen and your costar Jared for your first panel together when a fan asks a question that brings back some memories.

Warnings : Talks of attempted suicide.

Word Count : 1806

More chapters will be posted as soon as I get time :) xx

"Ladies and gentlemen please welcome to the stage the Winchesters, Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles and his wife the wonderful Mrs Y/N Ackles"

Richards voice rang loudly through the speakers as you made your way up the stairs and through the curtain to the stage, you were greeted by loud cheering and whooping from the audience, Richard and Rob welcomed you all with warm hugs and wished you good luck, you waited until Louden Swain had finished playing Carry on my wayward son before you raised your mic to speak.

" What's up Nashville " you all shouted into the mics at the same time making the crown cheer even louder than before.

" Wow y'all are loud " you said with a massive smile on your face, you turned to Jensen.

" Howdy y'all, it's good to be back, I do love me some Nashville "

Jared then raised his mic " How you guys doing today? Any first timers? " a lot of people in the audience cheered loudly making all three of you look at each other surprised.

" Really y'all have never been to a supernatural convention, this is your first one ? " you asked making them cheer again.

" How long have we been doing this ?" Jensen asked still in shock

" 14 years " Jared answered quietly " 14 years " Jensen got up from his seat a little and shouted into his mic " 14 YEARS "

" Some of you guys were only 2 when the show started so that's understandable " you said as you looked out across the audience before someone shouted from the back " I was only born " you jumped from your seat in shock and walked to the edge of the stage

" You were what, how old are you ? "

" I'm 14 "

" Your 14 oh my gosh WE'VE BEEN DOING THIS YOUR WHOLE LIFE" Jensen exclaimed.

“ When were you born ? “ you asked

" I was born in January " she answered

" January what ? " Jared asked

" January 25th "

" Two thousand and ? " Jensen trailed off trying to work it out

" Five " she answered back

All three of your dropped your mics in shock, Jared and Jensen slumped into their chairs whilst you just dropped to the ground at the front of the stage and lay there, the audience erupted into laughter and cheers.

" We’re so old " you said into your mic dramatically without moving making the audience laugh even harder.

" So you're what a freshman in high school ? "

" Yeah that's right "

" Oh my god freshman in high school, that's mind boggling " you sighed from the ground

“ I can drive too “ she shouted

" You can already drive ? " Jensen asked before turning to Jared and shouted " IT DRIVES "

" Alright alright calm down " Jared chuckled placing a hand on Jensen's shoulder

" Fun fact he still can't drive " Jensen stated matter of factly whilst looking out at the girl and pointed at Jared

" And I still got 22 years on ya " Jared said mockingly but then began to fake cry as Jensen pulled him into a side hug, the audience was laughing loudly at your guys reaction at this.

" Oh my god we gotta change the subject im not liking this " you said as you got back up from the floor and walked back to your seat. Jared turned his seat to face the right side of the stage " Yeah lets get some questions going, hey there " he said to the young girl at the left of the stage waiting with a mic " Hello everyone I just wanted to ask if there has there been anything embarrassing or funny happen on set recently ? " you let out a small chuckle and spoke first " Well I kicked Jared's ass last week whilst playing with Tom and Shep last week, all i'll say is that I a woman and 2 kids managed to pin him down whilst Odette attempted to give him a wedgie, Gen videoed thing I’ll get her to post it for you guys, that must have been a pretty big kick to the ego " the audience laughed as you blew a kiss in Jared's direction.

The rest of the panel went on like this, you guys making fun of each other, telling stories, making jokes and having tremendous fun with the audience, it wasn't long before it was time for the last question, you finally stopped laughing after Jared finished his story about the train in Europe and turned to face the girl standing to the left of the stage.

Now you were in front of her you could see her face was soaked with tears and she was shaking like a leaf, you pulled her into a tight hug and whispered in her ear " Its okay honey, what's the matter? "

" I uh um I just got a little overwhelmed sorry I wasn’t expecting to be chosen for a question, I just wanted to thank you guys for everything you've done for me this past year " you pulled away slightly but still held her arms, " What's your name ? "

" Its Gabriela but everyone calls me Gabby "

" Well Gabby i'm very pleased you’re here with us and that this massive family has helped you through a tough time and as Jared would say Always Keep Fighting because it will all be some sort of okay someday "

" Thank you so much, may I ask you how it is that you keep a positive mindset even when going through tough times ? "

You pulled her in for another tight hug before heading back up onto the stage, Jared handed you your mic as you sat back down between the boys again.

" Alright sorry about that guys, the wonderful Gabby has asked how it is that I keep a positive mindset even when things are tough and if i'm being honest it's pretty damn hard to stay positive sometimes, just like everyone else I do have days where I just don't feel happy, I’m run down or i'm feeling super unmotivated but I get through those days with the help of my friends and family, both on set and here with you guys " the crowd cheered loudly as you turned to Jensen and Jared who were both smiling at you gently.

" Surround yourself with those you love and who make you happy, shutting yourself away and pushing those people away can be the worst thing you could ever do, I did that and it was quite possibly the worst decision of my life, that and the haircut I had during season 4 I mean what was I thinking " you joked making the audience chuckle a little before they quietened down again.

" About 7 years ago I went through a pretty tough time and instead of speaking up and accepting the help that was right there in front of me, I suffered in silence and that led to my mental state getting so out of control that one day when I got home I broke down completely as soon as my front door shut, it had been a good day on set, the scenes weren't too hard and everything went smoothly but inside my head I was fighting a losing battle, so I just I locked myself in my flat and turned my phone off, I shut out the outside world completely " the crowd was eerily silent as they listened to you speak, you could even see a few people in the front row with tears in their eyes, taking a deep breath to calm yourself you started back into your story.

" Uh no one but Jared, Jensen and Erik Kripke know what happened that night but that was the night I tried to take my own life " you let out a shaky breath when you heard a few people in the audience gasp, Jensen wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side as Jared grabbed your free hand and squeezed it then held it between his two large warm hands as you continued.

" I had forgotten that these two were coming over to run lines for the episode ' A little slice of Kevin ', I wasn’t answering the door or my phone so they decided to break down my front door Winchester style, I’m about to get a tiny bit graphic here but when they charged into my apartment they found me lying on my bathroom floor covered in and lying in a puddle of my own blood, they got me to the hospital in time for doctors to save my life, I will always thank Chuck for putting these two Idjits on this earth " a few of the audience members chuckled whilst others awed when you leaned up and kissed Jensen gently then reached over and pulled Jared into a tight hug.

" Okay so the lesson you should take from that is that you need to wake up positive, never go to sleep angry with anyone because you never know what could happen, try not to worry about what might go wrong in the day, focus on what will go right no matter how small it may be whether it be going out for lunch with a friend or grabbing a coffee with someone you haven't seen for awhile, remember you never fail at anything, you just gain experience and knowledge you can use to help in a future situation " you pulled yourself from the boys and got up and walked to the front of the stage.

" Y'all I want everyone here to know that there will always going to be someone out there who is going to listen to whatever it is you have to say and if right now you don't know who that person it then come to me, my email is on my Instagram and twitter, you guys can send me private messages, I even have a P.O box if you'd like to write me a letter, i'll always be here to support you guys no matter what and i'll always try my best to help you in anyway that I know how " the crowd cheered and clapped as you made your way off the stage back to Gabby.

" Thank you so much for coming and asking your question today, if you ever need someone to vent or talk to then drop me a message and i'll try help the best I can " you wrapped your arms around her in a tight hug before heading back on stage which was now occupied by Richard and Louden Swain.

Jensen met you at the end of the stage and extended his hand to you to guide you back up the stairs as Jared spoke to everyone, " Thank you so much everyone for coming out, sorry if we bored you too much with our stories, well see y'all later on " the audience cheered and clapped as you guys waved before exiting the stage whilst Louden Swain played Your Love by The Outfield.

#supernatural #supernatural imagines #jensen ackles #jensen ackles imagine #Jared Padalecki #jared padalecki imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #Sam Winchester #sam winchester imagine #spn #alwayskeepfighting #jared x reader #jensen x reader #dean x reader #sam x reader

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anothers-trash-my-treasure · 5 years

Text

His Only Dance Partner

Uh, hey. So, I rewatched the last five episodes of the Pacific and was greatly inspired by the last episode to write this because I will never be able to stomach the fact that Snaf just left Eugene on the train. So I’m sorry, I know no one asked for this. But I needed it to happen.

I promise I’m gonna start working on requests again soon, I know I’m the worst.

Pairing: Sledgefu (Ya that’s right you heARD ME)

Word Count: 2100ish

Warnings: Mentions of war...I think that’s it?

Tag List: @the-almond-dinger @elliotmercury @r-ahh-mi

Let me know if you wanna be put on my permanent tag list and I’ll try to remember lol.

“Your lonely nights are numbered, Eugene.”

Eugene stifles an eye roll. This conversation, the topic being his virginity and the women in Mobile with his brother, was one he had been dreading. Sure, what he told his brother had been true, the only women in their part of the Pacific were nurses and they were very much off limits. But Eugene didn’t want them to be on limits. Why would he when he had everything he could have ever dreamed, right there with him.

Keyword being ‘had’, as everything he could have ever dreamed left him on the train without so much as a simple goodbye or a note. But no, Edward, Eugene was not a virgin anymore, had not been for some time. He can’t help but doubt his brother's words, his lonely nights are most certainly not numbered. They feel endless to Eugene. With every sleepless night that passes, filled with false images of sea green eyes draining of life, of dark blood staining everything it touches and of too loud explosives, Eugene’s hope of no longer being alone, in that way, dwindles a little more.

He can’t listen to his brother talk about the ball. All he can focus on is the heart-wrenching pain he felt when he woke up alone, blinking the sleep from his eyes expecting to find curly hair and a sly smile but instead found an ugly, empty train seat staring back at him. The pain that never quite faded, even after coming to grips with the simple truth. Eugene fell in love. And clearly, it wasn’t a two-sided love as he had thought.

“You wear your uniform to that ball, all the ripe fruit will be falling at your feet.”

No. Eugene thinks, he doesn’t want ripe fruit. And he certainly, doesn’t want to put on that godforsaken uniform.

He doesn’t put on the uniform. But he goes to the ball, for what reason, he’s not sure. Sid pulled him along, saying something or another about spiking the punch and dancing with Mary’s friend Sue. But as the night wore on and as Eugene stayed to sidelines of the ball, Sid began to back off, opting to dance with his fiance instead.

There were too many people. All pressed too close together, Eugene could practically feel the heat radiating off of everyone at once. The music was too loud. The melody swang nicely, made your body sway without you even realizing it. But it reminded Eugene all too much of one that was hummed in his ear during those long nights huddled in a fox hole. He watched couples dance, staring sweetly into each other's eyes and laughing at words spoken only for them. And he was overcome with at first jealousy. It wasn’t fair, that these couples could dance, press their lips against one anothers and be close. And then anger, because when Eugene had someone, they were limited. Limited to stolen kisses in the dark when everyone was sleeping, to subtle touches when no one was paying attention, to barley believed lies and stolen glances. The pairs at the ball could be with one another without fear of consequence. Yet if Eugene had been caught, or even suspected of his relationship, if it could be called that, Eugene wasn’t so sure anymore, they had to fear the worst.

It was all too much. Making a bee-line for the door, Eugene fished the pipe out of his pocket, barely refraining from lighting it before he got outside. His legs carried him away from the people, just far enough where he couldn’t be accused of leaving, just simply getting some air. Inhaling deeply, Eugene let the smoke from his pipe fill his lungs, exhaling the smoke quickly when the taste of it sparked another memory that made his heart clench. In an attempt to take his mind off of him, Eugene revelled in being alone. It had felt like forever since he was truly alone. His mother always hovering over his shoulder, his father's concerned gaze watching him from afar.

It’s cut short though, interrupted by Sid handing him a glass of punch. He can tell Sid wants to talk more about why he’s alone, and Eugene isn’t sure that he’ll be able to keep his big mouth shut if he gets asked one more time. So he lets himself ramble about another concern, a popular one among those who made it home. Why did they make it? When so many other men, married men, good men, young men, didn’t. He lets Sid talk about it, lets him tell him how he got over it, how he’s still getting over it, until Mary snags him away again.

“C’mon, I can wrangle you up a partner.” Sid tries one last time.

Eugene forces a smile, “No thanks, Sid.” He says. I only want one dance partner.

When he’s alone again, he lets his composure slip. He feels the tears pricking behind his eyes as his mind slips back to the train. Why didn’t he say goodbye? Did Eugene not mean as much to him as he did to Eugene? He knows there’s no sense dwelling on it, nothing good will come of it. But the punch, and whatever it’s been spiked with, makes his hurt all the more present.

Eugene tilts his head up, looking at the stars above. He wonders if he is looking up at the same stars too. So far away yet under the same sky. His eyes find a straight line of stars, and just his luck, they angle upwards too. His mouth quirks up a bit at the memory, remembering how his chest filled with adoration when the words fell from his mouth, a signature smirk at his lips, eyes sparkling with mischief. If he closes his eyes, he thinks he can actually hear the son of a bitches voice.

“The hell you doin?”

Eugene’s eyes fly open.

“Standin’ out here when ya could be inside, dancin’ with some broad?”

His head jerks towards the voice and he can’t believe his eyes. There he stands, barely illuminated by the garden lights around him, cropped pants and a dark t-shirt. His hair still an unruly mess of curls and those sea green eyes still glimmer in the dark. Eugene huffs out a breath, his body feels frozen. He wants, so desperately to do so many things. He wants to punch the sly, if slightly nervous, smile off the other mans face but he also wants to take him into his arms and never let the bastard leave again. He does neither, instead opting for speaking, willing his voice to not come out shaky.

“Don’t wanna dance with some broad, Merriell.” He pauses and adds quietly, “You know that.”

Merriell looks down, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he takes a nervous step forward. When he looks back up, the sly smile and mischief are gone, replaced with uncertainty and vulnerability.

“Then who ya wanna dance with?”

Eugene's throat is tight, his fingers shaking as he taps the leftover tobacco out of his pipe and shoving it back in his pocket. He looks backwards at the venue hall, observing the people standing outside and on the balcony. There’s too many of theme, too many prying eyes that wouldn’t understand what they’d see if they looked over. He shakes his head, looking back at the other man before walking towards him. He ignores the flinch that is pulled out of Merriell when Eugene grabs onto his wrist, tugging him away from the lights and sounds and prying eyes.

“We can’t do this here.” He hisses.

He doesn’t know where he’s taking him. He just knows they have to go somewhere no one else is. They have to be alone. He wants to scream at Merriell, just wants to know why but he also whats the other man to know how much it hurt to wake up without him. He knows they’re going to draw attention, no matter what ends up happening. So he drags Merriell away from civilization, into his stretch of field that he’s come to love since being home. Since he’s discovered it, no one else had come to the spot. He figured this was good enough.

“Jesus Sledge, if I had known you were gonna take me hiking I would’ve stayed in shape.” Merriell says, hunching over to catch his breath when Eugene finally stops.

“You fucking asshole.” Eugene grits out and immediately regrets it when he sees a flash of hurt spread across Merriell’s face.

“‘Gene, I-” Merriell starts but stops just as quickly, “I don’t know what ta say,” he says in a near whisper, avoiding the other man’s hard stare.

“I just-” Eugene paused to swallow the lump his throat, willing himself not to cry, “I just want to know why.” When Merriell doesn’t say anything he continues, “Why didn’t you wake me up? Do I not deserve a goodbye? Or at least a note? Or, I don’t know Snaf, a fucking explanation of some kind?” He can’t stop his voice from raising.

“Eugene-” Merriell tries but Eugene just keeps talking.

“After all we’d been through. I mean, come on Snaf, the number of times we pulled each other out of the line of fire just in time. And I don’t get a fucking goodbye?” He knows a tear or two have fallen on his cheeks but he doesn’t care, “I guess I just thought I meant more to you than that.”

“You do!” Merriell finally shouts before Eugene can start up again, “I didn’t say goodbye ‘cause I couldn’t, okay? You mean so damn much to me Eugene, I couldn’t give you a goodbye ‘cause it would have meant never seeing ya again.” He stops, swallows, and his next words are uttered so softly, Eugene barely hears them, “It hurt too much to say goodbye, so I jus’ didn’t say anythin’ at all.”

They stare at each other, fists clenched at their sides and breathing heavily. It’s gotta be about midnight now, Eugene figures. The moon is high above them, casting plenty of light into the open field. Eugene almost wishes there was no light at all, that way he wouldn’t be able to see the guilt on the other mans face.

The silence is finally broken by a broken sigh from Merriell, “I’m sorry, ‘Gene. Ya don’t deserve this, I should go-”

Eugene panics. He can’t let him go away again. And he certainly can’t watch this time. He does the only thing he can think of. He reaches out, wraps his fingers around a bony wrist, pulls the other man to his chest and kisses him,

The momentum of Eugene’s pull makes their teeth clash, they come together too hard but somehow, it’s still perfect. Eugene revels in the feeling of having Merriell’s lips against his own again for the first time in months. For the first time in months, he feels like everything could be okay again.

He feels a hand fist in his suit jacket, no doubt wrinkling the fabric. A sound of relief escapes Merriell’s throat and Eugene finds his hands cupping at his face as they kiss desperately. When they finally pull away from each other, their breathing heavily, foreheads pressed against one another. Eugene plays with the curls at the back of Merriell’s head, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes open and he finds himself lost at sea, he thinks to himself he wouldn’t mind drowning there.

“So ‘Gene, who ya wanna dance with?” Merriell asks softly, a slight teasing edge to his voice and lips curled in a soft smile.

“I only wanna dance with you, Merriell.”

The admission frees what feels like a thousand pounds off of Eugene's chest. He finds the other man grinning so wide he almost looks crazy before he pulls Eugene down into another kiss.

“Y’know,” Merriell gets out in between kisses, “I don’t think Mobile is gonna be too forgiving of our situation.”

“So we leave,” Eugene says, as if it’s the simplest thing, to just pack up and leave everything he’s ever known outside of the war, “we’ll go wherever we’re most welcome.”

Merriell bites his lip thoughtfully, searching Eugene's eyes for any sign of reluctance. When he finds none, he nods frantically, “I’ll go anywhere with you, boo.”

When the Sledge household wakes up the next day, all they find in Eugene’s wake is a note and an empty dresser. Eugene spent the whole war hiding who he was, and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna continue living that way. Especially since everything he ever could have dreamed is back by his side.

#eugene sledge #sledgefu #Merriell Shelton #Snafu Shelton #merriell snafu shelton #sledgehammer #sledgefu fanfiction #im sorry

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