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clareguilty · 3 years

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Gabriel Reyes/reader, a/b/o and The Works™

this is the third kinktober prompt for this year!!!

Gabriel Reyes/fem!reader | a/b/o, marking, biting, praise, all that jazz Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~3000

Jack Morrison was getting another medal.

It was everyone’s favorite joke at high command. It seemed like no one wanted to implement any serious policy or sign an actual resolution in favor of giving the golden boy of the Omnic Crisis another fancy award.

So Jack had been stressing himself out all week trying to write an acceptance speech that wasn’t passive aggressive, and you spent too long picking out a formal gown, and Gabe had sat on Reinhardt’s desk laughing and stuffing his face with carbs and fruit because his rut was due next week.

Jack took the teasing in stride and managed to come up with a speech that wouldn’t outright offend the Prime Minster of Russia. Everyone piled into the jet to Moscow with a garment bag and a carryon and a strong cup of coffee at four am the day before the banquet.

This was normal for you. In a world after the omnic crisis, head of Overwatch’s reparations department and mated to the commander of Blackwatch. You found yourself flown across the world dozens of times a year for negotiations and assemblies and ceremonies.

You and Gabe strapped in next to each other on the jet. “I haven’t seen the dress you picked out,” he nodded his head to the garment bag.

“I guess it will just be a surprise,” you purred.

He grinned and leaned in to kiss you.

“It’s too early for this,” Ana groaned from across the aisle. Gabe shot her a toothy smile and made sure to nip at the shell of your ear. You smacked his leg and shoved him back into his own seat.

The hotel was a beautiful historic waterfront building just across the bridge from the Kremlin in the heart of the city. The five of you piled out of the black SUV that had escorted you from the airstrip and made your way inside.

The hotel manager greeted you as well as an official from the Kremlin. Jack was the main recipient of ass kissing and pleasantries, so you simply smiled and nodded and shook hands wherever necessary.

The suite was entirely too big and fancy for a two night’s stay. You and Gabe poked around for a bit, but there were no fun secrets. You took the sitting room, and Gabe set up at the desk in the bedroom as you both buckled down on your work for the day. Gabe had operatives in Bolivia he needed to check in with, and you had a meeting with representatives in London.

He found you a few hours later slumped in the armchair with your head in your hands.

“They still being stubborn?” he asked.

“They won’t budge on anything,” you groaned.

“Change into something casual. Let’s go out for a little bit.” He was already in a hoodie and dark jeans, beanie sticking out of the back pocket.

You nodded and went to find a sweater.

Gabe’s impromptu date night in Moscow turned out to be a lot of fun. Ana and Reinhardt came to meet you at a bar for a little bit, and the two of you wandered around the city until sundown.

The next day was more meetings and frustration until you had to get ready for the banquet. You and Gabe slipped past each other in and out of the bathroom as you showered and shaved and styled your hair and perfumed and moisturized.

You shimmied into the dress half an hour before the car was due to pick you up. It was slim and black, sleeveless with one band that crossed over your collarbone and shoulder. You frowned when you realized it covered your matebite, but it wasn’t a big deal.

Gabe grinned salaciously as he zipped you up, unable to resist leaning down and nuzzling into your neck. “Cool it.” You shoved him off with a giggle. “I have to make it through a whole ceremony and dinner.”

He pulled on his jacket and the two of you made your way downstairs to wait for the car.

For some reason, the event coordinators split you into three cars. Jack rode by himself, you and Gabe in one car, and Ana and Reinhardt in the last. They looked intimidating in their dress uniforms, and you felt kind of ditzy in your sexy cocktail dress next to three enormous well decorated Overwatch officers.

The ceremony was only slightly dull, and you clapped at all the right spots and pinched Gabe when he looked like he was zoning out too much.

Dinner was much more enjoyable. You had been seated with people you knew from other events and assemblies, so conversation flowed well. A string ensemble played and a few people got up to dance or mingle once they cleared their plates. You caught sight of a British Parliament member speaking with a small group of tuxedoed men, and Gabe saw the determination in your eyes.

“Go get him, sweetheart,” he kissed your cheek and pushed you towards the Lord. You excused yourself quickly and approached the older gentleman ready to push for your negotiations to take center stage in the Palace of Westminster.

The poor Lord was not expecting to be accosted by you at a banquet, but graciously listened as you explained your struggles in negotiating reparations in London.

“You’ve got some real fire in you,” one of the tuxedoes remarked as you shook the Lord’s hand and he scampered away sufficiently cowed. He had an American accent and shiny hair. He reeked of confidence and you knew it was a combination of his nationality and his status as an Alpha.

You cocked your head nonchalantly. “Takes a lot of persistence to get anything done in Parliament.” You knew he was probably referencing the fact that you, a tiny omega, had just approached a government official and demanded that he push for your cause, but you brushed it off. Most of the time people were respectful, but you still ran into pushback every now and then because of your status.

The American laughed, tossing his head back. “And wit to match!” A waiter came by with champagne and he snatched a glass to press into your hands. “What’s your name?” he asked, placing a hand on your back and guiding you back into the crowd of tuxes.

You tensed under his touch. This wasn’t your Alpha. It was extraordinarily rude to touch anyone without permission, especially an omega. But still, you had to be polite, so you introduced yourself.

“If you ever need any help getting through to politicians, you should give me a call. I’m on the UN Peace Council, you know? I was appointed during the crisis.” That information was probably supposed to impress you. It probably would have if you were anyone else.

You nodded politely, taking a tiny sip of champagne and glancing over your shoulder to look for Gabe. You had your own gripes with the UN peace council. Jack and Gabe butted heads with them nearly every other week.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smiled, attempting to turn and address the other men.

“Here,�� the American pulled out his phone. “Let me get your number. Maybe we could meet up for drinks before we both leave Moscow?”

“Oh,” you found your escape. “I left my phone back at my table.” You turned to make your way back to Gabe and Ana, but the UN asshole grabbed your arm. You knew exactly what this was. This guy probably didn’t run into many omegas in professional settings, and he thought you would just go along with everything he said because he was some big shot Alpha.

Laughable. You were a high ranking member of Overwatch. A diplomat. The mate of Gabriel Fucking Reyes.

“Just put your number in and I’ll text you,” he insisted. You struggled out of his grasp and shot him the sternest look you could manage.

He laughed again. “I love how feisty you are!”

Clearly, everyone in the vicinity was also uncomfortable with the exchange. This was not the time nor the place to be asserting dominance over an omega.

Your blood boiled. You didn’t want to make a scene at Jack’s reception -- though he probably would have loved it -- but you were seriously about to deck this guy.

“Cariña,” a familiar voice washed over you and the effect was immediate. You leaned back into Gabe’s chest, taking a deep breath to slow your heart rate. “Jack was looking for you. He wanted to introduce you to someone.”

The American Alpha puffed his chest out, clearly ready to challenge until he took one look at Gabe.

“Commander Reyes,” he greeted. All of the bravado and pushiness was gone in an instant.

“Hello.” Gabe was stiff, clearly trying to hold his tongue. His arms snaked around your waist and he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Would you hate me if we left right now?”

“Absolutely not,” you spun in his embrace so you could look up at him. His expression was stoic as always, but you could see the tension and the anger in his eyes.

You didn’t even look back as Gabe walked you to the table to collect your things. It was a little rude to leave without saying goodbye to anyone, and you weren’t sure if Jack had actually wanted to introduce you to someone, but Gabe looked ready to tear someone’s head off.

He stopped caring about decency the moment the car door closed.

There wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver considering how enormous your mate was in the tiny sedan backseat, but he pinned you to the leather seats and kissed you like his life depended on it. You wound your fingers into his curls, gasping as his hands slid under your skirt and up your thighs. The driver coughed, and you giggled at the slow whir of the partition motor giving the two of you some privacy.

“I can’t believe he touched you,” Gabe snarled.

You shivered both at the possessive edge in his voice and the disgusting memory of the other Alpha’s hand on your arm.

“Make me forget about him,” you whispered, hooking your leg around his hips.

He rose to the challenge. Super soldier strength shredded your lace underwear, dress hiked up around your hips. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up your thigh at a torturously slow pace. He had barely sucked a mark into the skin when the car stopped. A glance out the tinted window showed that you were back at the hotel.

“Thank you!” you called to the driver in your terrible russian accent as you yanked your dress back down and teetered on your heels on the pavement. Gabe half carried you with an arm around your waist as you breezed through the lobby to the elevator.

The elevator was another brief attempt to continue. You managed to get Gabe’s jacket and shirt open before the door slid open and you were staggering down the hall.

He dragged you into the bedroom, pinning you to the bed on your stomach so he could yank down the zipper on your dress. He couldn’t keep his lips away from your neck. The moment your matebite was uncovered he dragged his teeth over the mark. A shiver ran all the way down your spine.

“You’re never covering this up again,” he growled, rutting against your hips clumsily. “I want everyone to see that you belong to me.”

The words made your stomach flip. You wriggled your way around onto your back, pushing your dress over your hips and to the floor. “You’re going to hit your rut early.”

He didn’t seem fazed. “I’ll just fuck you until we have to leave for the flight.”

You figured Ana, Jack, and Reinhardt wouldn’t appreciate Gabe in the throes of his rut on the flight back to base tomorrow, but they had probably experienced it before. You could only imagine how bad he was back during the crisis. The thought only made you wetter.

He must have sense the spike in arousal, because he settled more of his weight on top of you. “What are you thinking about?” he demanded.

“You. During the crisis. Alpha Commander Gabriel Reyes.” You trailed a finger down his chest. “Were your ruts worse than they are now?”

He smirked. “They’ve gotten worse again since meeting you.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, mustering the last of your coordination to get Gabe undressed. He made sure you were laid out comfortably on the bed -- grabbing a few pillows to place under your hips and head -- before sinking all the way inside you to the swell of his knot.

Gabe always fit inside you so well. The perfect stretch. And he filled you so deep when he knotted you. You knew that his ruts could get intense, and you would probably be exhausted and sore by the end of it. Still, you had been mated for a few years now, so you had figured out how to manage.

“You feel so good.” You closed your eyes and lost yourself in the situation.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to knot you so good.” He rocked forward, teasing you with the stretch.

“Please,” you begged, nails scratching at the shaved hair at the back of his head.

He shuddered and set an impossible pace as he began to fuck you. Sometimes you forgot that you weren’t just mated to an Alpha, but to a super soldier. No one else could fuck you like he did.

“You want my knot? Want me to breed you full? Want me to remind you who you belong to?” His words were low against you skin as he kissed along your neck. One of his hands was rubbing your clit, the other holding your thighs open so he could reach deep inside you with every thrust.

“Yours,” you gasped. “I’m yours.”

His teeth found the unmarked skin of your neck, just above your collarbone -- opposite the side of where your matebite was. The skin was practically electrified, especially when Gabe was fucking you like this. He didn’t bite down, but the sensation alone was enough to have you coming on his cock.

“Fuck,” he growled. “That was so good for me, baby. You’re so perfect.”

“Do it,” you begged. “Bite me. Please.” It was a little unorthodox. Normally couples only exchanged one bite. A bite on both sides was usually the sign of a triad or a pack. But you had just been touched by another alpha and Gabe was fucking you so good and you wanted him in every way possible.

He blinked, trying to think through the haze of his rut. “You want that?” He didn’t even wait for you to respond. The thought alone had him spilling inside of you, and he pulled you onto his knot. His teeth found that same patch of sensitive, unmarked skin, and he bit down just as he locked inside of you.

Nothing felt better than coming to the sensation of being claimed. It was the strongest orgasm you had ever experienced.

“Fuck you’re perfect. My perfect little omega. You wear my marks so well. Everyone is going to know exactly who you belong too.”

You couldn’t respond. Too busy marking Gabe’s chest with hickeys and lovebites. He was too massive for you to reach his neck, but you would make do. You were still coming down off the intense rush of endorphins, and everything was a little fuzzy and felt just a little too good too much too fast. You had come twice in less than the span of a minute, and Gabe was only just getting started.

He soothed the aching bite, holding you close as you were locked together. His knot probably wouldn’t go down for a while, but he was less riled up than before now that he had satisfied himself somewhat.

“I love you,” he kissed the top of your head, rolling so you could lay on his chest.

“I-” You cut yourself off, blushed, and buried your face in his pecs. You would happily die there.

“Yes?” He was curious now. You weren’t usually shy with him.

“I’ve been working on something. It’s super embarrassing.” You didn’t look up.

He lifted your head, forcing you to meet his eyes. “What’s embarrassing? I just dragged you out of a dinner party at the Kremlin so I could fuck you. I think I’m the more embarrassing of the two fo us.”

You laughed and kissed his chest right above his heart. Mustering all of your courage, you found your voice:

“Te amo. Me encanta pertenecer a ti. Tú eres mi mayor alegría.”

Your accent was decent, but you had no clue if your grammar was correct. The words were unfamiliar and clumsy, even though you had practiced them a hundred times. Spanish was not a language you were familiar with, but you knew that Gabe had grown up hearing it. You wanted to try and learn for him.

He understood immediately what you were tying to say, and you could feel the rumble of his laughter beneath you.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you whined, smacking him lightly on the side.

“I’m sorry,” he grabbed your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. “It was very sweet. I love you too.”

“I need a lot more practice,” you pouted.

He petted your hair, staring at you with a dopey, lovestruck expression. “I can’t believe you let me bite you again.”

You shrugged, feeling the pull and ache of the new mark in the motion. “We can let one of them fade.”

He smirked. “What if I like you like this?”

You bared your own teeth. “Can I return the favor?”

You weren’t expecting to rile him up, but the words were enough to make his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You good to go again?”

You nodded, pushing up to a seat so you could ride him. He grabbed your hips, holding tightly as you slowly rocked against him. You knew the pace was probably no where near what he needed, but you wanted to take your time.

He didn’t give you the opportunity, rolling to pin you beneath him again and dragging your hips up to his. “You wanna bite me? You better earn it.”

#gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes x reader #gabriel reyes/reader #reaper/reader #reaper x reader #reaper #smut #lemons #kinktober 2021 #ow fanfic #Overwatch #overwatch fanfic #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega au

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90gemini · 3 years

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Falling Up 🌇 Steve Rogers x Reader AU

Summary: A meet cute on a morning train between pediatric intern Steve and reader.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: big crowds, just too much fluff ngl

A/N: hope this makes you smile, i really love this AU, might be a part 1 of a whole series:)

Every single morning, as if on cue, approximately two minutes before my train leaves the station near my apartment, I come to the realization that if I do not get into full sprint mode right that second, I will miss my train and then be late to my first class and then have to walk in embarrassed while everyone is already inside and then proceed to feel embarrassed over it the entire day. So, considering the fact that I never seem to make myself leave the house just a few minutes early, for the past three years that I have been going to college, almost every morning I run into the train the last moment before the doors close completely out of breath, and have to subtly work on composing myself much longer than I am comfortable to admit.

Yet today, without even realizing, I got out of my apartment solid seven minutes earlier than usual. My roommate and I were so engaged in our conversation about the events of last nights party so we walked out together still invested in the drama which left me pleasantly surprised with the time I was left to spend before my train leaves after we went our separate ways. The extra time opened a whole lot of opportunities for me, almost made me believe I should wake up earlier every morning and not leave for class at the last possible moment. So, with the 420 extra seconds I got today, I managed to actually dig my earphones out my bag, plug them in and wait for the train with the sounds of my morning playlist filling my mind.

Inside the train, when I wasn’t preoccupied by catching my breath but also, even more importantly, focusing on not making it too obvious I was out of my breath, I became very much aware of my surroundings, noticing everything and everyone around me.

There was a girl sitting down right across from where I was standing, she looked about my age and she held a little baby in her arms, slowly rocking it and I noticed the way she was looking totally spent but the moment her baby made this cute laughing sound, a smile spread on her face completely overshadowing the exhaustion in her eyes. Next to the door was an older woman not so subtly judging everyone who was sitting down and has not offered her to sit and right next to the door was a man sitting down and sleeping like a log. I had the urge to wake him up and ask him when he has to get down or if he has already missed his stop, but in all honesty, it was too early in the morning for me to be considerate like that. While continuing to carelessly look around, my eyes landed on something that opened drawers in my memory I did not even know existed.

It was a book cover. A simple white background featuring a boy with frizzy hair who was flying over a drawn-on city with the words ‘Falling Up’ in the middle. So many moments of my dad reading poems from that book to me before bed when I was a kid came up and instantly forced a smile on my face.

In my head, I started reciting the words to my favorite poem from that book, remembering my dad teaching me how to read with those poems when my eyes fell on the arm holding the book and the man attached to it.

And God, was I thankful for the boosted-up heating in the train this morning because that made him take off his leather jacket and throw it over his arm, leaving only a thin, too tight white shirt to cover his upper body and it worked amazing for me that the shirt wasn’t doing its job well.

I heard the sound of the door opening and saw way too many people try to make their way into the train making it way more crowded which pushed the mystery man to move closer to me. Not as close as I wanted though.

My mind was focused solely on him that at one point I wasn’t even aware what station we were at and have I maybe missed mine, but I found myself not caring at all. The point my eyes landed on his face I was basically addicted. His hair was a gorgeous mess, a bit outgrown but looking so good. And, oh my God, his eyes. I was so upset I am only seeing them under the fluorescent light of the subway because I am positive that it would be an out of body experience seeing them under the sunlight.

At that moment I was sure he was the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on and was already cursing myself because I knew I was too nervous to talk to him and will regret that forever.

His lips would occasionally move into a small, barely noticeable grin while he was reading and every once in a while, his tongue would go over his lips leaving them all full and glistening which led to a whole new set of unholy thoughts entering my brain. And his fingers, the way he flipped over the pages was just so-

‘’May I help you somehow?’’ I was snapped out of my trance by his voice and met his eyes that were looking into mine with the coldest, most unimpressed expression as if he was in front of the most annoying person to ever grace the Earth.

‘’Shit, sorry,’’ I apologized quietly and pulled out one earphone to hear him better because no matter how rude it looks he is going to be right now, his voice was just heavenly. ‘’I zoned out when I saw that book.’’ I pointed to the book in his hand and his eyes followed the direction my finger was showing as if he was surprised I wasn’t staring at him but at the book. I was most definitely staring at him though, but I don’t plan on revealing that. ‘’My dad used to read it to me when I was a kid so just seeing the cover brought back too many memories. Sorry.’’ I said in a soft voice and gave him a forced smile hoping he was not going to talk to me again because I really don’t want to be yelled at by the most attractive man alive at 7.23am on a Tuesday in the subway.

‘’You know this book?’’ his voice broke the short-lived silence between us, making my head snap up to look at him again and I was met with a much softer face adorning an adorable smile. ‘’You must think I’m so weird for reading poetry for children.’’ He let out a small laugh which was, without exaggeration, the greatest sound I have ever heard in my life.

‘’No, I think it’s cute.’’ A sly smirk found its way on my face as I felt my usual confidence come back now that I knew he wasn’t planning on yelling at me.

‘’So, you think I’m cute?’’ The smirk on his lips, on the other hand, was not as subtle as mine was as he turned more towards me, quickly closing the book and focusing his eyes on my face.

‘’I didn’t say one thing about you being cute, I was talking about the book.’’ I lied to keep my cool even though cute truly wasn’t the first word that came to my mind when looking at him. It would be something more in the neighborhood of I-would-drop-on-my-knees-for-you-right-this-momentor whatever.

‘’Okay, so you don’t think I am cute?’’ he leaned closer and licked his lips instantly sending shivers down my spine. This man is too much for me to handle right now.‘’Because I think you are really cute.’’ He whispered loudly enough only for me to hear and moved away a bit to fully appreciate my flustered expression because he obviously was aware of the exact effect he had on me.

‘’Well, I guess you aren’t that bad yourself.’’ The fact that I was not literally falling apart in front of this god cosplaying as a man is still not something I can understand. ‘’And thank you.’’ Saying that my voice got super quiet, and I could see him grin proudly at my reaction.

‘’You are welcome,’’ he didn’t finish that sentence and looked at me asking for my name.

‘’Y/n.’’

‘’Y/n.’’ he repeated and stepped closer to me with an excuse of letting someone else pass and giving them space. ‘’That is a real pretty name.’’ I smiled to say thank you and looked at my feet for a second to get myself together.

I didn’t even run to catch this train yet I’m still out of breath.

‘’I am Steve by the way.’’ He stretched out his free hand in my direction but not for one second broke the eye contact between us. ‘’It’s so nice to meet you, Y/n.’’ God, just to hear him say my name was killing me.

‘’Nice to meet you too, Steve.’’ I connected my hand with his much larger one and was painfully aware of the fact he must have heard the soft sound I made the second my skin first touched his.

‘’So,’’ he continued while slowly pulling his hand from mine. ‘’do you like poetry in general, ‘’he lifted the arm with the book and nodded towards it. ‘’or is it just this one book you like?’’ he asked with so much interest in his voice making me absolutely thrilled he was keeping the conversation going.

‘’I love poetry.’’ I kept my answer short because forming decent sentences was a though job while looking at this man and seeing the way he was looking at me.

‘’What kind?’’ he adjusted in his spot somehow that he was even closer to me, leaving basically no space between us, yet to everyone else it seemed normal because the morning rush in the New York City subway never was famous for the spaciousness.

‘’About love.’’ I said softly and witnessed his expression changing from the cocky, overconfident one he had on, to a completely soft one.

‘’Same here.’’ He replied and as if he can do it on cue, looked even more deeply into my eyes. ‘’I like reading about how people feel things I have never felt, it lets me to feel the emotion without risking being hurt.’’ He confessed to me and I couldn’t believe a guy that has such a hard exterior is ready to share that much emotion after talking to a stranger in a train for only a few minutes. But I was thanking all the gods he was.

‘’That’s much deeper than my reason for loving it.’’ A small smile appeared on his face as he looked at me to continue. ‘’I just like reading about love and watching movies about love and basically everything about love. Makes me feel all warm around the heart.’’ He let out a small laugh reminding me why it’s my new favorite sound. ‘’That must sound so cheesy.’’

‘’I don’t think it’s cheesy. I think like it is really nice to love love.’’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘’It’s cute.’’

‘’So you are calling me cute?’’ I looked at him with a raised eyebrow as he let out a huff once again leaning all into my personal space.

‘’I am. I have once before too.’’ He whispered near my ear and I know he knew just what he was doing to me.

‘’What poets do you like the most?’’ he moved away leaving me upset over not feeling his breath on my neck anymore.

‘’I don’t read a lot in English.’’ I fumbled with the edge of my jacket and lowered my eyes to focus on my boots because his face was way too distracting. ‘’My dad is not from here and I got the gene for loving poetry from him so most of the things I read are in his mother tongue because it’s really the only way to keep myself from forgetting it.‘’ Making a mental note to call my dad tonight because it’s been too long, I suddenly became extremely aware that I am sharing so many personal information about me with a random man I met on the subway. ‘’So yeah, most of the poets I read, never got international fame so you unfortunately didn’t have a chance to hear of them.’’ I felt a dash of electricity go through my body when he put his hand under my chin tilting it up so we can once again face each other.

‘’Don’t hide that gorgeous face doll.’’ Dear Lord, I can’t believe I might actually die on a train because of a hot, poetry reading guy. ‘’I’d love to read some of that poetry you like if it is translated.’’

‘’I don’t know if any of it is translated but you can check, I can write down some of the names for you.’’ I said quickly really happy that he wants to read something I will recommend, still recovering from that ‘gorgeous’ comment.

‘’I don’t have anything you can write it on, we can just-‘’

‘’Oh, I have a piece of paper to write it on to, it’s no problem.’’ I interrupted him while flashing him another smile and started digging through my bag for pen and a paper only to have his hand stop mine making me look at him with confusion written all over my face.

‘’I was thinking something more in the lines of you writing your number in my phone,’’ he took his phone out his pocket and directed it at me. ‘’then I can text you and we can meet up so you can tell me more about those poets and maybe translate some for me on the spot if you want to.’’ The smile was evident on his face when I took the phone out his hand and started writing my number into it.

‘’I would really like that, Steve.’’ I gave him his phone back with a smile a bit too big for the cool persona I was trying to present myself as.

‘’Well, I am really looking forward to it, Y/n.’’ he returned the big smile and focused his eyes on my face once again.

‘’Can I ask you something?’’ I looked at him curiously.

‘’Anything, doll.’’

That nickname is going to kill me.

‘’How come you are reading poetry for children?’’ he left out a chuckle and gazed over the book in his hand.

‘’There are two reasons, actually.’’ He shifted from one leg to another and started talking kind of nervously. ‘’Firstly, this book is something I always come back to for some reason. My grandma bought it for me when I was just a kid and I reread it for too many times, so I always go back to it because it’s safe. Something like playing Friends in the background because there is nothing else to watch but it always makes you feel good, you know?’’ I nodded and he continued. ‘’Second is that currently I am interning at the pediatric wing at the hospital downtown and kids love me reading these poems to them so I always find a few I think they would like the most when I am getting to work in the morning.’’

‘’That is really amazing, Steve.’’ I put my hand on his forearm and looked at him with so much affection in my eyes. ‘’Those kids must feel really special having you read to them, it’s really heartwarming you do that even though you don’t have to.’’

‘’They are going through too much shit, if I can make it any better for them, I will.’’ How pathetic is it that talking about kids with this guy I met literally minutes ago, makes me think about having his kids?

‘’That is really too sweet.’’ I had plans on saying so much more to him, but I heard the automatic voice announce how my station is next. ‘’Shit I have to go; this is my stop.’’

‘’Oh.’’ He said and I swear I could hear some disappointment in his voice. ‘’I guess I will see you again?’’ he asked as if he is not sure if that is going to happen.

‘’You most definitely will see me again.’’ I looked at him fondly again and I don’t even know what force gave me the confidence to do so, but before making my way to the door I got on my tip toes and kissed his cheek.

‘’Bye, Steve. See you soon.’’ I said while walking away from him but still keeping my eyes on his as I saw him put his hand on the place I kissed him with a small smile on his face.

‘’See you soon, Y/n.’’ Was the last thing I heard before exiting the train, completely sure that I won’t be able to focus today in class.

But I don’t mind.

really hope you enjoyed this, any comment on it would truly mean a lot!<3

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #doctor!steve #chris evans x reader #steve rogers imagine #chris evans imagine #steve rogers x you #chris evans fluff

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magicman111 · 3 years

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A Moth to a Flame - Chapter Two

One month later

Sasha joylessly toyed with the Music Box, opening its lid like a yawning mouth.

Who’d have thunk it? She wondered to herself. This tacky little thing could cause so much calamity?

How ludicrously out of place she looked curled up on King Andrias’ enormous throne, almost like the little girl playing pretend in the driver’s seat of her parents’ car. You’d be forgiven for not knowing she’d just led the swiftest, easiest toppling of a government in this world’s history.

Big blue dummy locked up? Check. The city’s army surrendered? Check. Their toad army less than an hour away? Check. Dimension-skipping Macguffin firmly in their position? Double Check.

Not a bad day’s work for a 13-year-old.

Marcy’s oversized sparrow was tethered to the armrest by his leg. A prize she’d taken for herself so she could cruise around her new kingdom in style. She saw to it he wasn’t under any duress, and the fact he was neck deep in an industrial sized bag of bird feed told her he was plenty comfortable.

Sasha managed a tiny smile as she reached out to run her fingers through the thickness of his coat. She dunked her hand in the bag and offered him an open palm of seeds; he eyed for a moment or two before gingerly pecking at the mound.

Thank Frog no one was around to hear the ‘d’aww’ escape her lips.

Her grandmother was the one she had to thank for her secret admiration of birds. Old lady had been a birdwatcher who ‘treated’ her to regular weekend trips into the forest when she was younger. This was long before her discovery of malls and arcades. Sasha wouldn’t dare admit it to even herself back then, but the ones they spotted together on those dewy spring mornings were beautiful to behold in their natural habitat.

Herons may now be forever ruined for her, but Joe—she thought that was his name—was a mighty impressive specimen. Poor guy somehow found the strength to carry all seven of them to Newtopia, only to nosedive into the moat at the end of the flight.

Definitely had nothing to do with her asking Marcy if she could take the reins in the last stretch. She and Anne were kind enough not to draw attention to it, same as they did the day at summer camp when they discovered her crying into her pillow. They were awesome enough to go along with her story that it was only allergies. She knew she had a true pair of girlfriends that morning.

Thinking about them only soured her mood afresh. She sprinkled the rest of the feed back into the bag and slumped against the backrest, arms petulantly crossed.

Here she was in the crowning moment of her young life and she couldn’t have been more miserable.

Maybe because her friends should have been here to share in this, but no, they had to go and act all noble. What else should she have expected? She always was the only one in the group with the guts. Anne had to be dragged kicking and screaming to ditch school and join her and Marcy in celebrating her birthday. Was it any wonder she had to keep taking control of the situation?

More likely... it was because deep down she knew she didn’t really want this. She certainly believed she did after they dropped that gloryhound newt general down a waterfall and when they successfully rallied the Toad Lords after retrieving Barrel’s Warhammer. Things only started getting complicated when they needed free tickets into Newtopia in the form of her friends.

She hadn’t counted on realising just how much she missed her clumsy, klutzy Marcy. Neither how effectively she and Anne were still able to work together as a team in spite of all the unpleasantness that had transpired between them during their time here, of which there was plenty. The fact that Anne actively encouraged her in taking down that molten toad monster was the rancid cherry atop the sludge sundae. For a while back there, it looked like they might really turn a corner and start afresh. All three of them could have gone home like none of this ever happened. Except by then it was already too late.

What recourse did she have when the Plantars invited them for the world’s most awkward dinner party or when they brought the house down at the Battle of the Bands? Tell Grime and all the toads who’d invested their manpower and futures in her that sorry, she was getting cold feet? There was only one grizzly way that would end both for her and Grime and the best scenario she could imagine involved heads on pikes.

... It didn’t matter anymore. Her friends had picked their path, she’d picked hers. As her mom always said, ‘You make your bed, you lie in it’. Funny how in her short life, she’d heard that line far too many times already.

Once she figured out how the Box worked, she’d send both Anne and Marcy on their merry way and they’d never have to see each other ever again.

Everyone would get what they want.

Good thing then she’d sent her soldiers to ransack Marcy’s room for all her research about Anne’s fateful birthday gift. Girl was a pack rat. She kept notes for every exam and project they were assigned back home. The less said about her laptop jammed with files of anime fanfiction and theories the better.

Plus, it was a good way to try and distract herself.

They came back into the throne room hauling burlap sacks full of parchments and emptied their contents at Sasha’s feet.

Daaang, girl, you've been in the zone.

She scattered them over her lap and the ample free space on the seat. They actually weren’t that hard to follow; colour coordinated with plenty of cutesy kawaii diagrams. Trademark Marbles.

Apparently, it worked a lot like those puzzle boxes Marcy got as gifts from relatives in Hong Kong. All it took was knowing the right sequence of buttons and zip! You can go wherever you want in the cosmos. Just a matter of finding the code for Earth.

‘I’m done listening to you!

I’m done trusting you!’

Sasha scowled, trying to push the thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She shuffled through a couple more pages until she found the one titled in glittery green and blue lettering, ‘HOME’.

Bingo.

‘You’re a horrible person!’

Ignore. Ignore.

Now all she had to do was jot it down on her palm and—

‘AND I AM DONE. BEING. FRIENDS WITH YOU!!’

She stopped. Her shoulders drooped. Then she just threw the page down on the floor and sunk into her seat further than she thought physically possible.

She normally didn’t consider herself that thin skinned a person, but man, that one hurt.

Traces of bitter tears creeped into her eyes.

What am I even doing anymore?

The sound of footsteps on crumpling paper and someone clearing their throat snapped her out of her self-pitying torpor. She fluttered her eyes dry to see Grime standing there awkwardly among the discarded parchments.

The diminutive, one-eyed former Toad Lord was hiding something behind his back. He actually looked pretty embarrassed about it too, which for a battle hardened war vet like Grime was actually kinda adorable in Sasha’s eyes.

“I, uhh, got you something,” he said, whipping out a long rectangular present wrapped in green paper and topped with a luscious red bow. “Had it made especially for this day.”

Now if there was one thing Sasha Waybright couldn’t say no to, it was a gift, especially from a trusted friend. They were the ultimate distraction from the blues and she couldn’t have been sitting upright and tearing into this one any quicker.

“Whaaat? Grimesy, you didn’t!” What she had pulled from the ravaged packaging wielded aloft her head made her gasp. “How’d you know I wanted to duel wield?!”

It was a brand new heron sword. An exquisite green second shortsword that would compliment Ol’ Pink perfectly.

She stared proudly into the smooth steel surface, admiring the craftsmanship. When she noticed the girl staring right back at her, however, her smirk vanished in an instant. The captain of the cheerleaders, the scarred swordswoman, the conqueror of Newtopia, whatever angle she looked at it, she didn’t like what she saw. Unbelievable as it may sound, even the joy of an awesome gift like this was not enough to make everything better.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like it? Oh dang it!” Grime slammed his forehead. “I didn’t get a gift receipt!”

“No no, it’s just...” Sasha weighed the blade against her ungloved palm. Talking about these kinds of things was never easy for her. “What if Anne’s right? What if I am a horrible person?”

Grime popped up like a whack-a-mole behind the armrest. “Who cares what she thinks?” he scoffed. “You and I are in charge now, and we get to do whatever we want!”

“That’s the thing... I’m not sure what I want anymore,” she admitted wearily.

For all his years of training at the finest academies, his brutal combat in the colosseum and tactical expertise earned through a lifetime of military service as his forebears before him, this one had Grime stumped. Needless to say, talking about one’s emotions wasn't exactly encouraged during their upbringing in toad culture, so naturally it wasn’t one of his strong suits. Just one of the many things he and Sasha had in common.

“Huh.”

Still, he was a pretty fast thinker and came up with a fairly good idea on the spot.

“Why don’t you help me redecorate this place?” he suggested, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Take your mind off it. Cuz this right here...” He gestured to the cluttered mess in which she’d surrounded herself. “This is definitely not—I’m sorry, can I help you?!”

Both of them turned their heads when it became impossible to ignore Joe’s cone-shaped beak lightly nipping at Grime’s cheek.

“He probably thinks your warts are seeds.”

“For the love of—I knew he was eyeing me up on the ride here! There! Get lost!” Grime scooped up a fistful of feed and flung it over the marble floor, but the winged beast persisted with pecking his face. “Stop it! MY HEAD IS NOT A FEEDER!!”

It took an exceptional effort of willpower for Sasha not to laugh at the sight of her old man being preyed upon by the family pet.

Wow, she thought. Her old man? Was that how she saw Grimesy now? Seriously?

Perhaps up to a point. Okay, considering the options she had for parental figures back home, it wasn’t exactly the highest bar to pass, but it still meant something. Anything.

Who would have guessed this would be how they’d end up, especially given how they started off with her as his prisoner? Sure, it may have taken her helping him and the whole tower not getting turned into heron feed for her to be upgraded to his lieutenant, but they really had come a long way since then. There was a lot more honor and heart to the cranky old toad than she first thought, back when she wrote him off just as another blowhard with power. Now he genuinely considered her his equal both as a friend and comrade in arms. For Sasha, the feeling was mutual. A first for her.

When all was said and done, who else did she have left besides him and vice versa?

What the heck? Let’s tear this place up.

Untethering Joe, she whistled a tweet-tweet and gave the rope a gentle tug to encourage him to follow on their ‘indoor walkies’.

A cursory surveillance of the throne room told her there was a lot of work to be done. If this toad regime was to last a thousand years, the correct decor was an important first step. Thankfully for them, she knew a thing or two about fashion. For starters, there were way too many soft blues and purples. Rust red from top to bottom! She preferred keeping the stained glass windows, but they’d need entirely new designs. Hers truly would naturally feature in most of them, one showcasing her and Grime caving that narwhal worm’s head in with the Warhammer being an absolute must. The snakes coiling the stone pillars weren’t a bad touch, if just a bit too elegant for the whole ‘proud warrior race’ vibe they were going for, but she could still work with them. Now as for the throne, they were gonna have to replace it with something much more imposing. There was that super violent dragon show she and her parents used to watch that had the huge throne made out of swords. She was sure she had a picture somewhere on her phone to use as a reference.

“I’m sorry, what the heck is this?!”

Sasha could only denounce what they were gawking at as the single biggest affrontement to tasteful decorating known to man or amphibian. Yes, worse than inflatable furniture, carpeted bathrooms, beaded curtains, glass block bathroom windows, ‘live, laugh, love’ quotes on walls, rustic hearts, mason jars and nautical accessories all combined under the same inland roof.

Tapestries had their rightful place in a palace’s interior design, but the one sweeping across a section of wall depicting a gentle hearted Andrias sitting down by a lake, surrounded by flowers and lilypads was nothing short of vomit-inducing. Gathered at his feet and scooped up in his protective arms were his wide-eyed, childlike subjects. Even the fish and a lobster were surfacing to bask in their king’s magnanimity. Here the oversized salamander was truly the loving patriarch of everything the light touched. The mawkish display could only be topped off with a rainbow streaking across the sky.

Grime felt his stomach roile. If he ever needed an example to demonstrate the difference between kitschy and downright tacky, this was it.

“Y-y-y-yikes!” he gagged. “This thing’s gotta go!”

Sasha didn’t need a second invite. Besides, what else was Joe going to use to line his nest?

A joint effort tore the offensive piece from its place and it tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Dead silence fell over the room.

Hidden beneath the tapestry was... a mural. Including such a decoration in a throne room was hardly surprising, yet it was what it contained that shocked both the human and toad, so much so that they had to take a moment to recover.

“Woah,” they gasped at once, before starting to analyse what they saw.

The mural was a chaotic collection of nightmarish images painted on a night blue wall. Wild red flames spewing out hordes of beasts and the wreckage of buildings. Mountains of skulls and bones belonging to frogs, toads and newts alike. A flying... spaceship? A castle? Whatever it was meant to be, it firied a white beam up at what was unmistakably the Music Box. Pink, green and blue lightning bolts crackled out of the Box. Mesmerising orange gemstones or, more terrifyingly, eyes leaped off the wall and burned themselves into their minds. The frightening focal point of this one-way ticket to the school therapist’s office? Rising out of the middle of the inferno was the silhouette of a red-eyed, goliath-sized beast, its claws reaching up covetously towards the Box that hung right above its crowned head.

It may as well have been lifted straight from the tattered dream journal of a madfrog.

Any ideas of redecorating the throne room were long gone. Even the revolution they were spearheading suddenly seemed millions of miles away in the face of what they’d just stumbled upon.

Peering her eyes slightly, Sasha was the first to put a face to the shadowy leviathan, and when she did, she had to swallow her heart back down into her chest.

“Is that the king?” she asked, mystified. “With the music box?”

Sweat ran down the side of Grime’s nonplussed face. “If it is… it’s a really good thing we stopped him.”

Neither of them said it aloud, but both understood the situation at once. All this time they thought they’d been playing flipwart while the king played bog jump. Oh, how wrong they’d been. It was beyond anything that even the Toad Lords discussed. They knew that they had to reconvene with them as soon as the armies had reached the gate.

She took a couple steps closer to reexamine the mural more thoroughly, missed details emerging now that the initial shock began to wear off. Circuit board markings—the same inside her dad’s outdated computer when she foolishly dared Marcy if she could take it apart—worked their way around the images, serving as some type of frame. Odd choice for a world that didn’t even have steam engines yet. She also picked up the three small geometric figures standing atop the Box’s lid. An artist she was not, but they looked pretty human-like in design.

But humans did not exist in Amphibia. The three of them were the first of their kind to ever set foot in this dimension.

Weren’t they?

Alarm bells were ringing louder than ever before. This Andrias guy had been playing Anne and Marcy for his own ends this whole time, all to get his mitts on the Music Box! What did he plan to do with it? Right now, she still couldn’t say, but it was all bad. Outside of a kickin’ rock band, fire and skulls together were never a good thing!

Even Joe’s feathers were puffing up anxiously against her back. Not turning away from the mural, she raised her hand and patted his risen crest.

“I know, big guy. I don’t like it either.”

Grime’s voice rang urgently in her ears, “Lieutenant! Get over here, quick!!”

Sasha had spun on her heels and sprinted down the room to find Grime standing the wreckage of what used to be a display of armour. He’d evidently acted on a hunch while she’d been preoccupied. Judging by his thunderstruck expression, he’d just discovered something far worse.

“What is iooooh boy!”

This new second mural reminded Sasha a lot of Egyptian hieroglyphs. If there was any room for doubt about the technicolor stick guys, there was none here. Standing tall against an indigo backdrop in a neat row were the outlines of human beings; long gangly appendages, stumpy noses and everything. Some were wearing hooded capes, others were decked out in suits of armour. The couple in the middle looked particularly regal. No prizes for guessing the little wooden box they were holding in their hands, cementing their authority as if it were the globus cruciger.

Faded inscriptions were engraved along the bottom. They were written in a more archaic amphibian dialect, but being a toad of higher education, Grime was able to give translating them a decent shot.

These great beings of magic and might

Travelled from beyond to serve the night

Bow before these children of man

Or know the wrath of the—

“... Wu Clan?” He cocked his one good eye up at her. “Iiiii’m not getting it.”

There it was. Floodlights flashed in Sasha’s head. All colour drained from her face. A million and one thoughts were now firing across her brain at once, threatening to send her into cerebral shutdown.

It was at that moment she knew she’d been played. They all had. She didn’t know whether to be absolutely furious, betrayed or impressed.

Why that conniving, devious little—

That's when they heard the BOOM outside the window.

43 notes · View notes

btsmosphere · 3 years

Text

Sparkle | JJK

~summary:

Jungkook may have been planning a little something... a powercut is only a small barrier

Jungkook x female!reader

~word count: 2.5k

~roommates au, friends to lovers, getting together, fluff

Rating: g

Warnings: irresponsible milk drinking(?), tons of fluff

~a/n: so I am taking part in a bingo writing challenge with @btsholidaybingo and this is the first of my bingo squares: ‘xmas lights’!! It’s a really fun challenge and I am working on a lot more to come!

At this time of night, when it’s not really night but it’s too dark to still be day, you can enjoy the Christmas lights. From your window, it feels as if you can see the whole city – your house is right at the top of the hill.

Right now, when you can turn your own light off and admire the multicoloured constellations sprawled across the valley, it’s nice. However, when you go to bed it’s a different story. In the darkness of your room at night, it’s all too easy for the festive glow to sneak around your curtains and keep you awake.

Jungkook’s cooking at the moment, so you don’t want to go out and see what kind of horrors are going on in your kitchen.

At least it means he’s taken his music with him. That’s the thing about Jungkook: he’s always surrounded by music. And really, you don’t mind it. In fact, it’s something you’ve come to love. It’s reassuring, knowing another living person is just next door even if you’re snowed under with work and haven’t seen him all day.

And if you haven’t seen Jungkook, it is a bad day indeed.

But at this time of night, when it’s not really night but it’s too dark to still be day, you will take the peace and enjoy the Christmas lights.

Blinking, you realise you zoned out. The lights were floating in your unfocussed vision, but you soon pulled your attention back in. Sweeping your eyes once more over the cityscape, you noticed a darker section.

Then another patch of lights blinked off.

Vaguely, your memory reminded you that was what had jerked you to attention a moment ago. Lights cutting out. It felt like they should merely flicker, and you watched, feeling as if you were in mid-air, waiting for the inevitable moment of meeting the ground again.

But instead, a whole new square of the city fell into darkness.

And then, suddenly, you were blinking, eyes protesting at the newfound dark you had been submerged in. You were frozen, for a second.

Then you whipped around, as if you would find something coming up behind you. Nonsense, really. Your room had already been in darkness to let you watch the lights.

Walking across the space with nothing but muscle memory, your hand stretched out, hesitantly groping for the light switch. When your fingers stumbled across it, you flicked it.

Nothing.

With a sigh, you flipped the switch back off and stuck your head from your bedroom door.

“Kook?”

Your voice came softer than you expected, probably not reaching down the hall. Just as you cleared your throat, the concerning sound of something clattering to the floor interrupted you.

Eyebrows shooting up, you went straight to investigate.

“Kook!” you called into the dark kitchen. As you squinted, you could make out a human-sized shape on the floor, “Are you okay?”

“I think the power went out,” his voice returned.

Though you rolled your eyes, a smile sprung irresistibly to your face.

“Yeah, I had noticed,” you chuckled, “do you need some help-?”

Stepping into the space, it seems your calculations were off. Jungkook was a lot closer than you had expected and your leg hit him, tripping you up. But before you could topple over, Kook’s hands materialised at your hips, pushing you upright again.

“Woah, hey,” he laughed breathlessly, “careful.”

Clambering up from his knees to stand in front of you, you could hear the charming smile he was flashing at you rather than see it. Flustered, you stepped back and away from his hold. For a moment longer, he seemed to forget himself before he dived back down to retrieve the bowl he had dropped.

“Right, well, er,” you struggled to collect your thoughts, “don’t open the fridge until the power comes back. Do we have any candles, or anything-“

“Wait, Y/N, I just started cooking! I need to put everything back in the fridge. What if I open it really fast?”

“I don’t know…” you admitted.

Standing side by side in the dark, staring at the fridge for some sort of answer, you never felt more like a student. Which, of course, you were, but you hadn’t felt this clueless about something since the first time you did your own washing in first year.

“Well, I already cooked the bacon,” Jungkook said, “so it’s really just the milk and cheese.”

“I suppose you could risk opening the fridge,” you shrugged.

“Maybe…” he was chewing his lip. You knew he was.

Sighing, you spun on your heel and headed towards the door again.

“I’m going to go and see if we have any candles, or something.”

Back in your room, you rummaged blindly in your drawer for your phone. Often, as today, you stored it in there to avoid getting distracted by it when you had work to do.

Thankfully, it lit up, but boasted pitifully low charge. You just had to hope it would last long enough for you to find an alternative light source.

Pressing the button for the torch, you started at your wardrobe, wondering if you had any candles left over from birthday presents tucked away. None there, or in your desk or underneath your bed. Resurfacing from between the dusty boxes you kept under there, you slumped back against your bed.

Casting your eye fruitlessly around your room once more, you heaved yourself to your feet.

“Kook, can I go look in your room?” you called, walking back down to the kitchen.

Instead of a response, though, you were met with a spluttering sound. Entering the room, your torch illuminated Kook, hunched over with a milk bottle in one hand. His other was covering his mouth.

“What are you doing now?” you asked, incredulous.

Lifting his head, he coughed once more, sending a single drop of milk down his chin. His shirt was also spattered with it. Tilting you head, you raised your eyebrows.

“Please tell me you’re not chugging our milk.”

“You said not to open the fridge,” he mumbled weakly.

“Oh my god…” you sighed. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help the sudden burst of laughter that overtook you when he gave you full puppy-dog eyes.

“You’re a mess, Jeon Jungkook,” you smiled, “go and get another sweater.”

“This is the only one you haven’t stolen!” he protested.

Biting your lip, you looked bashfully down at the large black jumper you currently had on. Maybe he was right.

A second afterwards, your phone light drastically dimmed. There it stayed for a moment longer as you met Kook’s eyes, before you were both sent back into darkness.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “okay. You can have this jumper, but you need to take that one off. And then we need to find some lights.”

Knowing you were under the cover of darkness, you lifted Jungkook’s sweater over your head and held it out for him. Standing in only your bra and jeans, you noticed the effects of the heating being down.

“Kook,” you shook the jumper in what you hoped was his direction, “take it, come on. I’m cooold.”

“S-sorry,” he stammered, fabric soon leaving your hand.

Trekking back through the hallway, Kook following you this time, you parted ways to go into your respective rooms. You made your way to your wardrobe again with arms outstretched and felt around, picking the first jumper you came into contact with.

“Tada!”

The shout came as you had just put one arm into the sweater. Jumping around, you were met with a bundle of lights and a beaming Jungkook lit up behind them.

“Oh- sorry,” his eyes suddenly grew very round and he turned his back before you could blink.

Tugging the jumper on with haste, you cleared your throat.

“You found lights, then?”

“Yeah, um,” he looked tentatively over his shoulder to confirm it was safe before turning to face you again, “my mum sent up Christmas decorations, remember?”

“Oh! I didn’t realise,” you said, beaming nonetheless, “how come we haven’t put them up yet?”

“Uh, just didn’t have the time, I guess,” he replied as you scooped up a battery pack and began untangling the fairy lights attached to it.

While you worked, a cute frown making its way onto your face as you fought against the knotted wires, Jungkook just watched you through the mass of glowing lights. At last, you got the end free, your victory dance shaking him from his stupor.

“Do you know any card games?” you asked, draping the string of lights around your neck as you did so.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“That’s what people do in power cuts, right?” you brushed past him.

“Um… I guess it is,” Jungkook followed you through to the living room.

Making a start by placing your string of lights along the back of the big sofa, you waited for Jungkook to join in. He was being awfully quiet. After a few moments, he did get the idea and placed the whole luminescent bunch onto the middle sofa cushion, beginning work on your vision.

“God, how many of these are there?” you laughed dryly when you pulled out the third battery pack.

“No idea,” he grimaced, “I thought you liked Christmas lights anyway?”

“I do,” you conceded, “I think they’re working better than candles would have, too.”

Eventually, the two of you had cocooned your living space in the lights. The nest of space between your sofa, rug and chairs was bathed in the warm white light. Stepping back, you couldn’t help but smile.

It was still too quiet, though.

“Are you alright?” you asked quietly.

“Hmm? Yeah,” Jungkook spoke, standing to join you observing your hard work.

“You just seem quiet,” you mumbled.

As if to prove your point, Jungkook let silence elapse between you. But, like always with you two, it was comfortable.

“Cards?” he prompted after a while.

“Oh, yes,” you remembered, tearing your eyes from the scene in front of you to the boy at your side, “do we… own a pack of cards?”

Lips parting in thought, he tilted his head to one side.

“We don’t, do we?”

At the same time, you both grinned, laughing softly. The sight of his smile only served to make yours wider.

“Blankets?” he proposed instead.

You quickly agreed. On your return to the living room, you laughed out loud, finding Jungkook holding out a wine glass full of milk for you.

“I could grate some cheese for dinner but that’s just depressing,” he gave a small smile.

Laughing loudly, you made a show of swirling the milk around your cup and sniffing at it like the tasters on tv, before sipping it.

However, Jungkook’s laughter cut off as he sunk down beside you, his fingers fidgeting around the stalk of his own glass.

“Kook, what’s going on?” you gently elbowed him, “you’re so quiet.”

“I, er,” he freed a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, “how about some music?”

“Yeah, okay,” you frowned, “but, Kook, the power’s out-“

“Just wait here, okay?”

And then he was gone before you could protest, practically running from the room.

Was something seriously wrong? You knew you had been busy lately, but you always tried to make time to see your flatmate. In all honesty, he was the highlight of your day, and you had to stop yourself from fantasising about being more than friends…

But right now, you were worried. Right now, it seemed like he needed a friend, but since when had he started acting like this?

Before you could get up and follow him, though, you heard his footsteps returning. Not a moment later, he rounded the corner with a guitar in his hand. Definitely not what you had been expecting.

“I didn’t know you played guitar,” you said. It surprised you; for all that you could hear his music from your room, you would have thought you’d have heard if he had been playing the guitar.

“I’ve been learning,” he didn’t quite meet your eyes, shuffling his feet.

“Okay,” you spoke slowly.

While you waited, he walked forwards and sat on one of the chairs facing you.

Just before he began, he looked up. Somehow your heart melted at his big eyes, heart already in your mouth for some reason.

And then his face was lit up in profile again, soft glow highlighting his features. As you gazed at him, unable to look away, his fingers began to pick out a soft tune. For someone so modest, he was incredibly skilled. Watching and listening in awe, your heart nearly burst when he started singing too.

His voice, though he sang softly, clearly a little nervous, floored you. And the words… he was singing about love, about a beautiful girl that made him happy, a girl he wanted to stay happy.

In your head, you had the privilege of imagining that girl was you.

All too soon, the song came to a close.

Staring at him, you held your breath to the last second before he relaxed, lowering his hand and putting his guitar to one side.

“That was beautiful, Kook,” you breathed.

But instead of responding, he stood, taking your gaze with him as he crossed to sit beside you on the sofa. A small smile curved his lips, a ghost of a laugh falling between them.

“I had a whole night planned out,” he waved his hand, “I was making carbonara, and-and I had all these decorations waiting in my room, I know you love them…”

While he took a deep breath, yours was completely stuck in your throat.

“I’m sorry about the, uh, the milk,” he chuckled, “it’s not exactly romantic, but… I was wondering if you wanted to be my girlfriend?”

Finally having forced the words out, he looked nervously up at you with glistening eyes, no doubt thanks to your magical setup. He watched with that unwavering gaze as you tried desperately to form words in your head, simultaneously trying to process if you were in the real world at all.

“Please answer,” he whispered.

Until then you hadn’t noticed how impossibly close to each other you were. Until his words brushed against your lips.

Suddenly your brain caught up with itself, deciding this was real after all.

“O-of course,” you rushed out, tongue momentarily darting to your lips, “yes, yes!”

“Yes?” he repeated, eyes widening more, if that was possible, seeming in total disbelief.

With sudden bravery, you surged forwards, pressing your lips to his. Melting into the kiss, you felt his hands float up to your waist, hesitant at first until you kissed him harder, pulling him forwards with your hands fisted in the sweater you had recently given up.

Now he was kissing back with equal measures of hunger and tenderness, hands holding you firmly.

When you broke apart, exhilarated and reluctant to let each other go, you let your forehead fall against his.

“Yes.”

The grin he awarded you was brighter than all the lights around you. And later that night when the city burst into light again, barging past your curtains to interrupt your darkness, neither of you paid it any mind.

Hope you enjoyed! Please reblog if you did💜xx

@aianloveseven @preciouschimine

Contact me to be tagged in new work!

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engineheaven9 · 3 years

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U.S. soccer to face antagonistic Honduras, the place batteries, urine and animal heads might also fly

SAN PEDRO SULA, Honduras — Shin-excessive grass. A rain of batteries, bags of urine and severed animal heads. lost bags, loud parties, lodges with no electrical energy and climate it is either way too scorching, means too humid or way too lots of both. those are just probably the most distractions the U.S. national soccer team has needed to contend with when playing World Cup qualifiers on the road. And that’s where it may be Wednesday when the crew — lacking four starters to harm or suspension — faces Honduras within the unfriendly confines of Estadio Olímpico Metropolitano, on a container surrounded by means of a sequence-hyperlink fence for the players’ insurance policy. “It’s like Thunderdome,” mentioned Alexi Lalas, a former country wide team defender who played in 12 qualifiers. “You simply are looking to get out alive to a certain extent.” that may frequently suppose like an not likely effect. At halftime of a qualifier performed before a adversarial crowd of a hundred and fifteen,000 within the warmth, altitude and smog of Mexico city, Lalas feared for Cobi Jones’ lifestyles as he watched his teammate cough up “disgusting globules of darkish stuff.” “these things, combined [with] the machine guns and the dogs and the fire alarms a good way to get pulled, all of that variety of stuff occurs,” Lalas referred to. “so you’ve received to be mentally amazing to bob and weave and simply roll with all the s--- that’s about to return. actually.” sure, there are also reports of excrement being thrown at players, another reason enjoying in CONCACAF, the FIFA confederation that encompasses North the united states, vital the us and the Caribbean, isn't for the faint of heart or vulnerable of charter. And it’s already proven a learning journey for a younger U.S. team that entered the latest match with 19 players who had in no way taken half in a CONCACAF qualifier. “There’s no simulation for enjoying on a horrible container, 95-degree climate with ninety% humidity, apart from doing it and realizing [it] and feeling the force worried. That’s just the fact,” talked about Landon Donovan, who had a cup of vomit thrown at him right through a video game in Mexico, where the U.S. turned into as soon as locked out of its own dressing room. “It’s a very diverse animal,” Jones agreed. In Costa Rica, U.S. gamers had been spat on and pelted with cash, batteries, pieces of wire fencing and numerous liquids. In Guatemala, a 2000 semifinal-circular qualifier changed into moved from the capital to the tiny city of Mazatenango on the ultimate minute, forcing the group to make a 3-hour bus trip over mountain roads. “Some man with a hand lawnmower was reducing the grass. It turned into about seven inches excessive,” remembers Bruce enviornment, who has coached the most World Cup qualifiers in U.S. Soccer history. “It become invariably all this gamesmanship.” So constant, definitely, it inspired its own verb. To get CONCACAFed ability succumbing to the features, trickery or negative rulings from officials greater attracted to getting out alive then in getting the calls appropriate. The group inn is a typical website for that, with loud, all-night celebrations within the parking zone making it difficult for the players to sleep. In Honduras, a newspaper once printed a floor plan of the U.S. resort while Jones remembers an extra lodge that had an unexplained vigour outage simply after the group checked in. “It’s honking and horns blasting and vuvuzelas at 2 in the morning. multiple instances the fire alarm goes off,” said Jones, who played in a record 164 games for the U.S. “These are issues that ensue perpetually. after which sure, you need to play a online game.” When DaMarcus Beasley and goalkeeper Tim Howard performed for the U.S., they stated they frequently registered under fake names to prevent undesirable calls within the core of the nighttime. “There’s all the time some variety of new holiday, new festival the day earlier than the video game,” referred to Beasley, who had a bird head thrown at him in El Salvador. “They make sure the game is as uncomfortable as viable after they play the U.S.” a different regular trick is grass it truly is several inches excessive, making each passing and operating difficult. “It’s more complicated to trap or to pass a ball. That capacity the ball’s at your feet much more,” Jones stated. “And when that occurs it gives a defender much more time to return into you and do some thing he desires to do.” members of the U.S. soccer crew go away the pitch following a 1-1 draw in opposition t Canada in a global Cup soccer qualifier on Sunday in Nashville. (Mark Humphrey / associated Press) The gamesmanship is tolerated, if no longer inspired, as a way to stage the enjoying box, allowing a group like Honduras, which has 14 avid gamers from the country’s domestic Liga Nacional, to compete with a team just like the U.S., which has 13 gamers from first-division groups in Europe. And it’s worked. dating to the beginning of the ultimate qualifying cycle in 2016, the U.S. has won 30 of 36 games with CONCACAF teams performed in the U.S. however only 1 of eight played in Latin america or the Caribbean, with that lone win coming in a international locations League game towards Cuba that became held within the Cayman Islands. “In CONCACAF, no person gives a crap where you’re enjoying. no one offers a crap how tons funds you’re making or how famous you are or who you’re dating,” Lalas mentioned. “That astounding résumé that you have capability diddly squat when that whistle blows in CONCACAF. It’s the super equalizer.” Jurgen Klinsmann, who played on an international Cup winner in Germany, then coached the country to a third-place finish in the 2006 event, discovered it complicated to explain to pals in Europe how powerhouses like Mexico and the U.S., both ranked among the many precise 10 on the earth, may struggle in locations like Costa Rica, where the U.S. has not ever won. “The game is approached absolutely distinctive. The cases, the local weather, the container, the opposing lovers, the referee getting influenced,” mentioned Klinsmann, who received simply two of six street qualifiers as U.S. train. “in case you have France in opposition t Germany, home and away, the environments are very similar. The fields can be first rate, the referee should be neutral and the climate can be ok. however no longer in CONCACAF. “You truly don’t comprehend what is going to turn up. That makes it unpredictable.” occasionally simply getting to the online game in uniform is the greatest problem. right through arena’s first stint as coach, from 1998-2006, the crew’s bags changed into lost so frequently players have been required to pack their game boots in their lift-on baggage. The group at last switched to charter flights. There can also be a political facet to the video games. “You’re not simply the opposition, you're the us,” Lalas spoke of. “That rachets it as much as an entire different level because this might be their one possibility to superior the USA in anything.” “here is every thing for each nation,” Beasley brought. “and that they do every little thing of their power to assist their nation gain an advantage over the united states. “They make certain the video game is as uncomfortable as feasible.” U.S. teach Gregg Berhalter knows that, having appeared in 14 qualifiers all the way through his enjoying days. So he’s limited his crew’s time on the highway, arriving in each El Salvador and Honduras under 30 hours earlier than kickoff for this month’s two highway qualifiers. and maybe fearing some chicanery after remaining week’s game in San Salvador, he rushed his players onto the bus, in uniform, moments after the closing whistle, following a police escort again to the resort the place they showered and changed. “The narrative about CONCACAF away video games is there,” he said. “It’s practically the way you settle for it. It’s about how you go about preparing mentally and realizing that there’s at all times going to be things that turn up that you simply deserve to be capable of respond to.” On Wednesday, the U.S. needs to reply with a influence or the street forward will get in reality treacherous. 먹튀검증

#먹튀검증

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always-and-forever-a-killjoy · 4 years

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Hello fuckers! This is the ridiculously long fic I've been vagueposting about for like weeks. 23k words sitting in a doc! I'll be trying to post maybe once every two weeks, but once school starts again it will be a lot harder to get out 3k words in a week. I have seven chapters written, so I'll consistently update for probably 2-3 months and then no promises after that. This is going to be a fucking epic.

Note that not all warnings apply to all the chapters, so I'll be warning for triggering/upsetting content in each chapter individually. Please heed those!

You all also get to play a game of 'guess which song the chapter title is pulled from', which is made more difficult by my music taste ranging from musicals (les mis! DEH!) to my chemical romance. I'll let you know what the chapter title was from when I post the next chapter. Also, the POV switches each chapter, so that info is also in the notes.

Title: Coming, Coming Home

Chapter Title: Do you want to live out loud?

Chapter Wordcount: 3099

Summary:

The story of 109 WKIL, from the mother that began it to the daughter who saw the end of it.

Warnings: None for this chapter!

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen @no-braincells-here @piratecherricola (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

It began with a handheld radio.

The killjoy who was already beginning to be known as Dr. Death Defying had stolen quiet a few of these portable transmitting devices when he left the army of the corporation called Better Living Industries. Now, he began to give them out, one after another, to the small clusters of rebels who were just beginning to call themselves killjoys. With those, the groups kept each other updated for a while, passing whispers back and forth over the airwaves. The positions of squads of dracs, who had extra supplies, where there were good buildings to scavenge from or shelter in.

Those were highly effective in the small rebellion, news passing quickly between the few rebels, but as more killjoys began to enter to desert, take up the colors and masks and ray guns and form themselves into a true rebellion, it was getting to be not enough.

“We need something with a wider reach.”

Dr. Death Defying was sitting at the so-called strategy table (which in actuality was a shitty kitchen table strategically repurposed), listening to White Lily talk about rebellion. It was another ordinary afternoon, or as ordinary as one could get in a post-apocalyptic nuclear desert plotting to overthrow an evil mega corporation. The sun was shining brightly overhead, and he and his best friend, the fiery spirited White Lily, were in a partially wrecked house out in Zone Four, where they had been staying for most of the time since the Helium Wars. Both former soldiers, they had served together for a little bit after D had first been recruited. He had been transferred to a different squadron soon after, and they hadn’t deserted together, but they’d met up after the wars and become close friends. Two dreamers who wanted to save the world, she had said. And so now they were trying to do just that, one killjoy recruit at a time.

“If this is going to be a true revolution, Walkie-talkies aren’t going to cut it,” White Lily went on. “We need a way to reach more people. Get the word out quicker.”

“Did you have any particular ideas?” Dr. Death Defying asked dryly.

Her eyes gleamed in the way that meant she did, in fact, have an idea. “A radio station.”

“A what?”

“A radio station. I know I sound crazy, but hear me out. If we can get our hands on the equipment, a lot of killjoys already have radios and that way we can also reach the ones with only a car radio. We broadcast news- who’s dead, where bli is attacking, just generally what’s going on. We can also make speeches over the radio, like what’s his face, the president guy, did with his fireside chats."

“FDR. And you can make speeches over the radio.” It wasn’t that he couldn’t, per se, but he would rather leave the main speaking part of it to her.

White Lily briefly made a sad face, but was back to determination within seconds. “Right, well I can make big speeches if you do daily announcements and news, deal?”

“Deal.” They realized a second later what they had just accidentally agreed to and sighed.

The other just grinned. “Time to get some radio equipment!”

And so it began with a hand held radio and a duo of Helium Wars survivors, and 109 WKIL was born.

109 WKIL didn’t actually broadcast until two full months and a new crew member later. It turned out to be not exactly easy to get their hands on the equipment necessary to send out signals, and neither of them knew precisely what running a radio station required anyways. They researched as best they could, asking around and reading any old books they could find, but supplies were scarce and electronic equipment especially so. And so they didn’t get the radio station fully running until after the arrival of their third crew member.

It was another of the somewhat lazy afternoons in the desert when Cherri Cola showed up at their house in a stolen BLI News Van. White Lily was gone, off talking to a small band of neutrals and trying to persuade them to aid the rebellion, so it was Dr. Death Defying who was there to see a no-longer white van screech to a stop. He kept his ray gun close as he stepped outside, since the van was Better Living Industries, but the side of it had a sprinkling of graffiti and it was covered in dust, which reassured him somewhat.

“Hello?”

The van’s engine clicked off and Dr. Death Defying breathed a sigh of relief as a lean teenager hopped out, squinting in the sunlight. They were clearly a killjoy, given the pink mask, and they also wore scuffed jeans and a too-small black jacket despite the warmth of a desert afternoon. Their hair was brown and a sandy mess, and they were perhaps an inch or two shorter than Dr. Death Defying. They were completely and utterly un-intimidating with the sole exception of their eyes, which blazed with fierce and bitter kind of anger.

“Another killjoy?” Their voice squeaked a little, undoing any effect of those fiery eyes, and they cleared their throat. “Uh, another killjoy?”

At loss for words, he nodded. “I’m Dr. Death Defying, he/him and they/them.”

“Cherri Cola.” They fiddled with their shirt hem. “He/him.”

“So…I’m assuming you’re looking for White Lily?”

“Was actually just looking for a place to stay the night,” Cherri Cola mumbled. “I didn’t realize you were already staying here, I can leave-“

“Absolutely not, get inside.” They hoped their voice didn’t sound too firm. “White Lily and I are happy to let people stay with us who need.”

“Oh.” D pretended not to notice the relief on his face as he ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Do you want to come into the shade? It’s baking out here.” He didn’t mention how hot the other killjoy must be in that jacket.

“Yes, please.”

So he led the strange teenager inside, half-wondering what made the teen’s eyes so old and filled with hurt and rage. It wasn’t an uncommon sight in the zones, per se, but this kid’s eyes were striking in their pain.

“So, how old are you?”

“Sixteen, you?”

“Twenty. Do you want some power pup? We’ve got a bit of extra, I think.”

Cherri nodded eagerly, and he devoured everything D put in front of him. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to pull off a raid or anything, and hacking vending machines isn’t as easy as it looks.”

That would explain why he was so lean. “You’ve got the look of someone who’s been out in the desert a while.”

“Almost since the end of the wars.” There was no need for him to specify which wars. The Helium Wars loomed over everyone and everything, desert and city.

“Ah. I’ve been here since the very end of the wars, so not too much longer than you. My friend White Lily and I were both deserters, we met up and decided to stick it to the man, as it were.”

“So you live together?” Cherri Cola’s face had softened into curiosity.

“Yep. We’ve been sheltering in this house for quite a while now, but we’ve lived together for longer than that.”

Cherri nodded. “I’m on my own. Runaway from Battery City, never found a crew. It must be nice to live with your friend, though.”

At that moment, said friend came tromping through the door. “Hello, D!”

“Hey, Lily!”

Cherri waved with a quiet “Hello.”

“Hello, random stranger in my kitchen!”

Dr. Death Defying sighed. “White Lily, this is Cherri Cola, he/him. Cherri Cola, this is White Lily, she/her.”

“Nice to meet you,” Cherri said politely.

“Nice to meet you too, kid! So I’m assuming this softy offered you a place to sleep for the night?”

“I did, he needed a place to stay.”

“Softy.” White Lily turned her grin on Cherri Cola. “You’re welcome to stay for a bit, we’ve got a nice place and an extra room, so I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”

“I can pull my weight,” he offered quietly. “I know how to sew and some first aid and a little bit of fighting, but I’m not great yet.”

“What makes you think you have to pull your weight for us to give you a room for a night?” Lily’s face was genuinely concerned. “Can’t believe I’m going to say this, but chill, kid.”

There was something in Cherri’s eyes that reminded D a little of a wounded animal as he glanced up at Lily. “You’re sure I don’t have to be helpful? I can do a lot of things- okay, not a lot, but I’m pretty good at fixing things and I know how to fire a ray gun, even if I can’t really do hand-to-hand combat.”

"Well, if some dracs attack, then you can put that to good use,” D told him.

“Wait, did you say you can fix things? Tech skills?” Lily leaned forward, and D didn’t have to see her face to know what she was thinking.

“My…I knew someone who’s an engineer,” Cherri explained. “I know how to fix a lot of things.”

“You don’t happen to know anything about radio equipment, do you?”

“Lily,” D sighed.

“Some, why?”

“We could use some help getting a radio station off the ground. And shush, D, if he’s going to stay anyways, we might as well figure out if he can help.”

“A radio station…do you have a transmitter? Or anything of the sort? And you need modulators.”

“We’ve got the modulators,” D told him. “We need a transmitter, the little one I found isn’t near powerful enough.”

Cherri Cola frowned, tilting his head. “Well, I’ve got a news van with what I’m assuming is a very powerful transmitter, haven’t tried to use it yet, though. We’d have to figure out how to make it work with audio instead of video, but I bet you could use the antenna from that. An FM station shouldn’t take too much technology, depends on how wide you want the range to be. Power is probably more of an issue?”

“We’ve got some large batteries, do you think we need a more permanent power source?”

They talked until the sun was starting to set, Cherri having quite a bit of useful advice and knowledge to supplement what little research D managed.

And after Cherri was safely asleep in the spare room, Dr. Death Defying and White Lily convened back at the shitty kitchen ‘strategy’ table.

“You’re not seriously thinking of letting him stay forever,” Lily said as soon as she had taken her seat.

“Why not?” Usually, it would be Lily who asked this question, but “He needs a home.”

“This better not be fucking Socks all over again.” Socks, being, of course, the cat D had tried to take in during the Helium Wars. Not only had he been a lot of trouble, he had eventually run off onto the battlefield, and neither of them had been able to stop him. They could only assume he had been killed in the final days of the wars.

D still regretted that, but this was different. “He’s not a cat, Lil. But he does need a safe place to stay. Besides, you were the one who was grilling him about radio station technology.”

“At first. Then you took over with all your technical words and phrases.”

“All we were doing was talking transmitters.”

“Nerd boy.”

D sighed. “Anyways. He can clearly be helpful, given how much he knows about radio technology and other things, and he’s obviously in need of a place to stay.”

“Well, we’ve got one of those at least,” Lily sighed. “He better end up a good radio station assistant for you.”

D knew that meant Cherri was staying. “We’ll offer to let him join in the morning.”

“We will.” Lily’s face was serious. “Be prepared for him to say no, D. We’re not famous yet, but being friends with rebellion leaders probably isn’t an easy lot.”

“Of course not.” The flashlight they had hung for light flickered. “We’ll warn him about a friendship with us means, but we can’t just kick him out.”

“Technically, we can, but we’re not going to.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

The next morning dawned slightly overcast, which was rare in the desert. It provided somewhat of a gloomy atmosphere as Cherri Cola wandered into their living room area with a tired “Morning.”

“Morning,” Lily yawned back. D was the only one properly awake at the crack of dawn, always an early riser.

He found it somewhat amusing how non-functional Lily was until she had had some coffee or gotten some adrenaline from a fight. “Good morning.”

Cherri settled down in one of the chairs cautiously as Lily opened her mouth again. “So, D and I were talking. Big softy that he is, he wants to let you stay with us if you want, and I figured you might be pretty handy when it comes to radio stations.”

“Don’t let her twist it, she’s equally on board.” D resisted a sigh. “We do have to warn you, we’re leading a rebellion. Lily is, at least. I’m something like a right hand, I suppose. So it will be dangerous and difficult to be friends with us, and the radio station will not be an easy endeavor either.”

“Can’t be worse than…” Cherri trailed off. “Can’t be worse than wandering the desert on your own in a stolen news van. Do you really want me to stay?”

“Hey, we always want another pair of hands.” White Lily’s joking tone didn’t get a grin out of him. “You seem like a neat kid, why not let you stay?”

“Guess so.” Cherri yawned again. “So, do you happen to have a screwdriver? I think I’ve got some ideas about the modulators.”

So Cherri Cola came to live with them. His primary occupation was trying to get the radio station able to broadcast, alongside Dr. Death Defying, combining each of their respective technology skill with a lot of guesswork and the knowledge gleaned from whatever books they could find. He rarely went on runs with White Lily at first, but as they found out a week or so in, he turned out to be more than a decent shot with a ray gun.

“Holy fuck, Cola.” White Lily was staring at the empty can he had just knocked over- from a distance of a hundred and twenty feet, further than D or Lily had managed yet.

“Is that a good or a bad ‘holy fuck’?”

“Good. Holy shit. D and I haven’t hit that yet, not with a shitty little ray gun like yours anyways.”

“What’s wrong with this ray gun?”

“No offense, but that’s a piece of shit.” D watched as she took the ray gun and weighted it in her hands before handing her own to Cherri. “Feel what this one’s like- it’s a little heavier, but it’s a lot nicer. Yours doesn’t even have a stun setting.”

It took him one or two practice shots, but within a few minutes he was shooting even more effectively.

“A hundred and FIFTY feet! D, did you see that?”

“I did,” D told her, glancing over at the youngest of their little trio. “Cherri, we need to get you a better ray gun.”

The better ray gun would have to wait, though, as the next day, they finally found the last few pieces of equipment and things that they would need for the radio station. They had decided that 109 WKIL would broadcast from the news van Cherri had arrived in, since the antenna was already attached and that way it could be portable if Better Living Industries managed to track their signal. So a few days of fixing later, they had cobbled together a working radio apparatus that could broadcast at a range of thirty miles or so. It had taken a lot of swearing, banging around, and failed test runs, but eventually they had it figured out.

The very first broadcast fell to D, as it was decided he would be the main DJ, and he settled at the panel a little nervously. Cherri was crouched beside him, fiddling with the last few cords.

“Think we’re good to go,” he whispered.

"Right. Here goes nothing.” D took a deep breath. “One-oh-nine in the sky and the pigs won’t quit, welcome to the very first broadcast by one oh nine WKIL, the rebellious radio station of the desert. I’m Dr. Death Defying, and I’ll be your usual DJ, keeping you updated on all the news from claps to raids to Mad Gear concerts.”

The script had been decided on beforehand so that he didn’t stumble too much, but he still had to pause to take another quick breath and steady himself. “We’ll be doing our broadcast at this time every morning, pretty soon after alarm clock radiation, and we’ll be fanning the spark of this desert into a flame. So tune in, listeners, for all the latest updates, weather, traffic reports, and the best music we’ve got. One oh nine in the sky, this is Dr. Death Defying signing off.”

Cherri gave them a broad grin and a thumbs-up as D fumbled to click the right buttons to get the music going. D grinned right back, and White Lily came charging into the van a few minutes later, brandishing the radio they had been using to test their broadcasting capabilities.

“It worked! You came though loud and clear, even a good ten miles away, and you’re already getting good at this. I told you, you could do it!” She gave him a high five, grinning, and turned to Cherri. “And good job, soda kid! You’re already a radio station technician.”

Cherri laughed and high-fived her. “Wasn’t expecting to become one at sixteen, but not the worst place I could have ended up.”

They had tried to spread the word as best as possible about the radio station beforehand, so D knew there had been a fair amount of killjoys already listening to the first broadcast. And word travelled quickly in the desert, so he didn’t doubt their listener base would grow over the years. But for now, the rebellion was small, and the twenty-one-year-old leader and her two best friends were heading inside for a celebratory breakfast of power pup.

#cherri cola #dr. death defying #auri writes #coming home #original character #white lily #ttlofk #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #danger days fic

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argylemnwrites · 4 years

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Change of Plans - Part 1

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (An It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe AU, set nearly 3 years after that epilogue)

Word Count: ~3000

Rating: PG-13 (just some adult language)

Summary: Living in NYC in March 2020 is redefining normal for Drake and Riley. Life doesn’t always go according to plan during a pandemic, after all.

Author’s Note: Ummmm, I tried to avoid writing this. I really did. But as I was sitting down to do some detailed outlines for the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment sequel, all my brain kept wanting to explore was COVID-19 content in that universe. At first, I just bullet pointed some head canons, hoping that would be enough to scratch the itch. But it wasn’t. The fact of the matter is if you’ve read anything I’ve written, you know I’m all about grounding the Choices characters and stories in the real world to a certain degree. So to write an AU where Drake and Riley live in New York City and not address the horrible crisis that city is facing just didn’t feel true to me as a writer.

That being said, I understand fanfic is often an escape from the real world. I understand that addressing the current pandemic at all might not be your thing, even though I don’t take it to any truly sad or tragic places. So, no worries, this is an AU inside my AU. This will not be an “official” part of the sequel. It’s its own little two-part piece that inches a bit more firmly into the real world than the actual sequel, Why Are We Still Waiting?.

So, tagging all my usual It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment taglists, but no hard feelings if this is just a little too real. I will mention that this does hint at or reference some events from the prologue and the first couple of chapters of Why Are We Still Waiting?, but it does not spoil the core content of the story. Plus, to be fair, it’s not like I write things with big plot twists really. Much like It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment was essentially a Drake character study, Why Are We Still Waiting? is a Riley Liu character study, and I’m not really sure you even can spoil those.

Alright, I’ve rambled in this AN for far too long already. In case you skimmed and missed it, Trigger warning for coronavirus discussions.

Drake glanced up from his laptop as he heard the locks click on the apartment door, Riley and Anderson walking through a few seconds later. Riley unclasped Anderson’s leash and hung it on the hooks Drake had installed, followed by her coat and her keys, before sliding off her shoes and going straight into the kitchen to wash her hands. The space next to their door had become their “dirty zone.” For now, they weren’t changing all their clothing when they got back inside, but Drake was thinking that doing so should probably be their next step.

Taking Anderson out was now basically the only time either one of them left the apartment. With Riley being furloughed from her PR firm on Friday and Drake working from home for all of last week, there really wasn’t any other reason to do so. At the moment, they were doing okay for food and whatnot, but Drake was not looking forward to having to deal with that in the upcoming weeks. He wasn’t sure whether they should switch to just getting delivery that they could safely reheat, but exposing themselves to a new driver every couple of days, or if they should risk making a trip to Foodtown and stocking up for a few weeks just once. Deep down, he knew the latter was the better option, but neither of them had been to a bodega or grocery store in the past week, and he was kind of dreading it now that more people were starting to take this seriously since the schools were closed. Maybe he could pull out the box of five masks he’d bought when he was sanding down and repainting the dresser and see if he had one left for each of them.

For the past four days, with both of them with nowhere to be, they’d alternated who was leaving the relative safety of their apartment to get a little fresh air with the dog. Even before that, Riley was just going to work and coming straight home, and she’d been riding an old bicycle she bought from a coworker to avoid the subway. But now, she had nowhere to be and neither did he. On her first day at home, Drake had been reluctant to have Riley go out at all now that she didn’t need to do so. He’d seen the news stories about the hate crimes popping up against Asian Americans, and it seemed like an unnecessary risk. But he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to convince her to essentially become a shut in while he left the apartment a couple of times every day to walk Anderson. Plus, as she had pointed out, she was still in her 20s and wasn’t a former smoker, so by all accounts, she was medically a lower risk than him. Still, he got nervous every time she left and always felt a little better when she came back.

Overall, Drake knew things could be a lot worse for the two of them. Because of his conversations with Liam, he’d been slowly stocking up on nonperishables for the past month or so. He had not only a permanent job, but one with a law firm that allowed him to work from home. They had a one bedroom, not a studio, so Riley didn’t have to stay silent during his Zoom meetings with his boss or team. But losing Riley’s salary was certainly not great for them. They’d be okay for at least the next month, but going forward, things might get a little tight. Not only that, but Riley was clearly going stir crazy already, with no one to see and nothing to do. Well, nothing to do except send emails and make calls to Texas to postpone their wedding.

In the grand scheme of things, Drake knew that postponing a wedding was a minor loss. In fact, if that was the worst loss that they suffered at the end of all this, they would be very fortunate. And now that the president had banned travel from Europe, there was little chance of the majority of their already small guest list being able to make it. But it still sucked, particularly since they’d already had to postpone last year.

He and Riley had talked about it last week, after the travel ban came down. Even though the wedding was seven weeks away, it had just seemed like the smart call to start cancelling things now instead of waiting until the last minute. The original plan had been for him to make the needed calls and whatnot since he was working from home, but since Riley now had infinite free time, she’d contacted everyone except his mother and aunt, who he had called over the weekend. His mother had been confused at first, saying she didn’t understand why they needed to postpone already and that she was sure it will have all “blown over” by May. Aunt Leona, on the other hand, had seemed pleased by the decision, telling him she was glad he wasn’t bringing that “Chinese virus” down to them from New York. Drake wasn’t sure whose response was more infuriating.

As Riley flopped down on the couch next to him, she let out a loud sigh. When he’d been working out of their apartment and she’d still been going into the office, they’d tried to maintain some distance at home. It had been pretty difficult, though. Although this place was way bigger than her old studio, they still just had the one bathroom, and obviously they were still sleeping in the same bed. Drake had known it had probably been smart of them to spread out as best they could, but he was kind of relieved when Riley had just curled up next to him on the couch this weekend, saying that it was stupid to try and pretend that they were even coming close to effectively socially distancing from one another. Plus, now that she wasn’t going into work, they basically carried the same risk of exposure.

Although she was sitting next to him now, she didn’t make any move to actually touch him. Sensing she wanted to talk about something, he moved his laptop from his knees to the coffee table in front of them. Sure enough, her head landed in his lap not even a full minute later. This had become her habit over the years, to lay down on the couch and put her head across his lap whenever there was something she wanted to talk to him about, usually something serious that she didn’t want to deal with but knew they needed to deal with together.

“So, everything’s pushed back to November 7th,” she said after a couple of moments of silence, “We had to put down another deposit with the florist who was a real asshole about it, but the band, the photographer, and the caterers were really accommodating.” Her fingers traced random patterns across his forearm as she spoke, but her eyes remained closed, almost as if she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye and see their shared disappointment reflected there.

“Thanks, Liu. I’ll call Mom tomorrow and let her know.”

“I did try for October, but the caterers and the florist didn’t have any availability.”

“November’s fine. If the weather’s shitty, we can just have the ceremony inside the barn and the reception in the house. Our guest list is tiny, anyway.”

His statement hung there in the air. There was kind of this unspoken agreement between the two of them to just be matter of fact about postponing. It was a global pandemic. It had to happen. Being upset about it wasn’t going to make things any better. But sometimes, it just hurt, thinking about all their planning and excitement that was just on hold again. The scattered pieces of wedding favors and leftover invitations and the planning binder that Hana had started for them that were visible in every corner of the apartment didn’t help either. They were now mixed in with stacks of dog food, rice, and paper towels, a grim blend of the future they wanted with their new reality.

They didn’t even have any place to tuck the wedding crap out of sight at this point, as their closets and cupboards were filled to the brim with extra supplies. But without a car, Drake had just wanted to make sure they could minimize trips out if… no, when shit really hit the fan. And it’s not like they had that much storage space in their apartment anyway. But now they would have to live with constant reminders that they couldn’t get married and their lives were essentially on hold.

He at least still had work to distract himself with. Now that Riley had cancelled everything, she really didn’t have anything she could focus on to distract herself. He just felt bad for her. “I’m sorry, Liu.”

“For what? None of this is your fault,” Riley said, her eyes popping open and gazing up at him, her hand continuing to trace patterns across the skin of his arm.

Drake sighed, dropping his head to the back of the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I feel guilty that I didn’t get us to Cordonia when I could.” He had been contemplating calling Savannah or Maxwell and seeing if they could come stay with them for a while. Leave the crazy population density that was New York City. Staying at the palace would mean bad optics for Liam, but he figured at least two of the three adults at Ramsford would probably be okay with hosting him and Riley and Anderson. But while he’d been weighing their options with Riley, Liam had closed all flights into Cordonia except for citizens returning home. Since Riley had never become a Cordonian citizen, they were out of luck. Drake knew that if he asked Liam, he would grant Riley some sort of royal exception, but he wasn’t going to put Liam in that position. The last thing Liam needed on his plate was making an accommodation for Riley.

Drake felt Riley’s head leave his lap, and soon her hands were on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Drake, we both were unsure if it was the right call.”

He just shook his head. She could have had Maxwell to spend time with while he worked. Anderson could have gone on walks safely across the grounds and vineyards. But he hadn’t been decisive enough and now it was too late. “I should have seen the writing on the wall.”

“Look at me.” Her voice was firm and carried enough of an edge that Drake complied, tipping his head back to find Riley kneeling next to him on their couch, staring at him with eyes that were somehow intense and sympathetic simultaneously. “We both were concerned about flying right now. We both were unsure about being in a house with both a baby and a toddler and possibly bringing the infection to them. We both wanted to wait to see what would happen. I don’t know why you insist on taking the blame here when we both weren’t sure if heading to Cordonia was the right call.”

“I just wish there was a way to protect you from this.”

She shook her head, “You think I don’t want that, too?”

“I know, Liu. I just feel like…” he trailed off, unable to finish his thoughts. He could have never imagined a situation where he couldn’t take care of her. Keep her safe. But there was nothing he could do about any of this. It just made him feel so powerless.

“Me too, Drake,” she said, tilting her head and sliding her hand down his arm and twining their fingers together. “But nothing else to do but ride this out. Well, that and hope we don’t drive each other too crazy over the upcoming weeks,” she added with a little chuckle. “What time do you think you’ll finish up today?”

“I dunno,” Drake said with a shrug. Since he was a naturally early riser, he’d been getting up and started on his files for the day hours before Riley was waking up, trying to get his work done by mid afternoon most days so that she didn’t feel banished to the bedroom too much. He knew she felt like a distraction to him when he was working, and though he didn’t want to admit it, she kind of was. “By 3:30, I’d guess.”

“Okay,” she replied, letting go of his hand and bouncing off the couch. “I guess it’s time for me to read up on my insurance options. I’ve been putting this off, but it’s probably better to sign up sooner rather than later.”

Drake frowned as she rounded the corner and went down the little hallway to their bedroom. He’d not thought about the fact that her being furloughed might impact her health insurance. He probably should have. Getting way better health insurance when he’d gotten hired as a permanent employee had been a big deal, after all. This employment-connected health insurance thing still just felt strange to him, though.

A thought occurred to him. He minimized the folder of digital files he was reviewing and cataloguing, pulling up instead a search engine. He landed on the city clerk’s website a couple of minutes later, scanning over the requirements, then checking the time. This could work.

“Hey, Liu!” he called out, striding over to the bedroom. Her laptop was in front of her as she lounged on her stomach, Anderson curled up right next to her. She glanced up as he reached the doorway.

“What’s up?”

“Let’s get married.”

She blinked a couple of times and pulled her head back slightly as she cocked it to the side, “Uhh, sounds good, but that was kind of already the plan.” She waved her left hand in the air, his grandmother’s ring catching the light intermittently. “I mean, I’m glad you still want to and everything, but seeing as I did just spend the whole morning rescheduling our entire wedding, I would have been pretty pissed at you if you changed your mind.”

Drake shook his head and rolled his eyes. “No, let’s get married tomorrow.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. We can go down to the city clerk’s office now and get our marriage license so we can get married tomorrow.”

“Where is this coming from?”

Drake walked over and sat down on the bed next to her, pointing toward her laptop. “You were going to go on my health insurance after the wedding anyway, right? So let’s do that now instead of having to pay for shitty coverage for you.”

She gave him a gentle little smile, closing her laptop and sliding up onto her knees next to him. She placed one hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing gentle circles before she spoke.

“You are a very sweet marshmallow of a man, you really are. But I know you. And I don’t want you to feel like we have to rush to do this now. We’ll be fine if we wait for the lovely wedding we planned down on the ranch with all of our friends there.”

He shook his head, “I want to do this. The question is, do you?”

“You don’t actually want to do this.”

“Of course I want to do this! You think I give a shit about who’s there or what we wear or if we have the right flowers or what we have for dinner?”

“Yeah, I do. Drake, you may not be much for pomp and glitz, but this wedding that we’ve been planning for years now? I think it matters to you. I think you want Liam and Maxwell and Hana and your mother and sister and niece and nephew there. I think you want to hear our friends toast us and to see Maxwell make a fool of himself on the dance floor and to have Bartie be the ring bearer and that’s okay. It’s okay to want to celebrate with everyone. We can wait until we can do that. This doesn’t have to just be a... logistical arrangement.”

Drake paused for a moment. She wasn’t wrong, exactly. Those were things he wanted. But right now, they seemed like little, insignificant details.

“Look, Liu. You’re right. The thing that prompted me to think about marrying you right now was the practical reasons. But as everything becomes a total shit show, I just feel like the only protection I can offer you is this one. And in an ideal world - sure, I would want the nice little wedding we planned in Texas. But the world has changed a whole fucking lot in the past couple weeks, and nothing is exactly ideal anymore. And if my choices are waiting almost eight months to have the wedding we planned or to marry you tomorrow, I pick marrying you tomorrow. Because, yeah a wedding down on the ranch with our friends sounds great, but the whole point of that wedding is that I get to be your husband. And that’s all I really want.”

She gave him a warm smile and kissed him deeply, sliding her hand up his back and threading her fingers through his hair as his hands fell to her hips. After a few moments, she pulled back.

“So, you aren’t going to look back with regret and feel like we rushed things?”

“I’ve been ready to marry you for years. This doesn’t feel like we’re rushing. It feels like it’s about damn time. At least for me.”

Riley nodded, glancing down. Drake followed her gaze to her left hand, resting gently on her knees.

“It’s not a rush for me either.”

“So, what are you thinking? Should we get married tomorrow?” Drake asked, grabbing her hand in his, staring at her downturned face for a few seconds before she looked up and met his gaze.

“Yeah,” she said, a wide grin sliding onto her face, “Let’s fucking do this.”

Permatag: @ravenpuff02 @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @jamesashtonisbae

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC only: @jovialyouthmusic @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @riley--walker @notoriouscs @butindeed @addictedtodrakefanfic @drakesensworld

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @wickedgypsymoon @thesumofmychoices @cosigottahavefaith @thequeenchoices @katedrakeohd @feartheendlesssummer @ao719 @ooo-barff-ooo @sunnyxdazed

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfic #trr au #trr au fanfic #tw: coronavirus

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nie7027 · 4 years

Text

"And then what happened?" Hatori asked completely invested in the story

"Minegishi dragged me all around the building knocking on every godamn door" Shimazaki simply said

"Was he able to convince them?" Hatori asked unable to keep the curiosity from his voice. Then again Shibata was equally eager to know.

Shimazaki shrugged

"He made me wait in the hall outside while he was inside"

It was 2 days after they have played the prank on Shimazaki and he was telling them about Minegishi's landlord's apparent outburst the previous day while they were in one of their now usual dog sightseeing walks.

Shibata hummed "At least now we know why Minegishi suddenly decided to work the afternoon shift"

"And why we ended up having to babysit this bastard" Hatori couldnt stop himself from adding.

Shibata rolled his eyes ignoring Shimazakis subsequent replies and muttering a quiet 'Here we go again' to himself

Even if he was already used to Hatoris and Shimazakis continous bickering that didnt mean he couldnt get tired from it.

He let them keep going at it while he did some quick maths in his head and intervened once they were in the middle of a who-flipped-the-bird-more-at-the-other contest.

"Guys this isnt the time for fighting. " he said forcing down both Shimazakis and Hatoris hands "Minegishi needs our help"

"And how are we supossed to help him? We arent exactly rich and some of us have future expenses like buying a new phone" Hatori complained fighting off Shibatas hold to show Shimazaki his middle finger one last time

"If you didnt want me to break it you shouldnt have used it to attack me" Shimazaki retorted not bothering to acknowledge Hatoris antics.

"FOR THE LAST TIME WE WERENT-"

"GUYS" Shibata snapped "Hatori you knew very well how risky it was to use your own phone"

"You used yours as well!" Hatori whined while Shimazaki mockingly laughed at him.

"AND SHIMAZAKI" To Shibatas surprise said man actually shutted up and turned to him "Violence shouldn't be your first response. No if you want to be a respectable member of society"

"Whatever" the man huffed stuffing his hands in his jackets pockets and quickening his pace to walk ahead of them.

Shibata shaked his head.

He wanted to believe there was hope for their friend, specially after Hatori told him what him and Minegishi had seen while he was unconcious, but the point of the matter was... it had been Shimazaki who had knocked him unconcious in the first place.

He was still too prone to violence.

"So...what are we doing with Minegishi? How are we going to help him?" Hatori whispered at his side

"I honestly don't know. We could lend him some money to alleviate some of the load" Shibata proposed "I did some quick calculations and I dont think he was sued. If he was he would have taken the night shift too. The pay is better."

"He starts it tomorrow" Shimazaki interjected effectively killing any of Shibatas hope for Minegishis financial future.

"Fuck. At this pace he is going to work himself to the bone" Hatori lamented "Why do a flower shop even needs a night shift?"

"Funerals" Shibata and Shimazaki responded at the same time.

"Oh yeah. I forgot those...Aw man Minegishis landlord sucks."

Shibata shrugged "I dont even think he had the right to demand all of that from Minegishi"

"Why does he even keep living there? That jerk doesnt even do the mandated buildings maintenance!" Hatori grumbled "Now he is going to blame everything on Minegishi"

"You know very well why" Shibata sighed tiredly.

"Why?"

It was Shimazaki. He had stopped walking and stood in front of them, waiting for them catch up and give him an answer.

"Uuuh..." Hatori eloquently said. "Because he was part of a terrorist organization that wanted to take over Japan?"

"So?"

"People dont let that pass so easily" Shibata slowly explained "it was televised"

Shimazaki shaked his head "You were there too and you dont have funny men screaming at you"

"Oh" Hatori exclaimed happy for the opportunity to make fun of Shibata "Big boy here was unconcious in a dumpster for most of the whole ordeal thanks to some 14 year old"

It was Shibatas turn to make fun of Hatori.

"Yeahb and this nerd here" he said pointing at Hatori with his thumb "Nobody recognizes his lanky ass as one of the feared terrorists even when he was the one who hijacked their signals"

"Perks of being a good looking beanpole" Hatori said grinning. And it was true, aside from governments officials, nobody ever thought of him something more than a weakass guy.

"But Minegishi...he was at the front of our forces taking control of the city so he was captured in footage several times"

"It doesnt help that he was present at the other incident too...or that he is eaisly recognizable, you know, with his lack of eyebrows"

"Minegishi doesnt have eyebrows?" Shimazaki asked genuinely surprised making Shibata and Hator burst out laughing.

Of all the things they said that was what Shimazaki had decided to latch on.

"No he doesnt" Shibata finally answered after taking a deep breath to recover "But basically thanks to all of that it was harder for him to get his own place. Not many people wanted to rent him and he couldnt afford most of those who did"

"Yeah, except for Seri most of us couldnt immediately get a job." Hatori said and Shibata could notice the way Shimazaki perked up at the mention of Serizawa but didmt have time to dwell on that because Hatori sudenly exclaimed

"WHAT ABOUT SERI?"

"What about him?" Shibata carefully asked.

"He started working before us. He should have more money saved!" Hatori simply answered as if that was the answer to all their problems

"You know Serizawas income is more err- variable than us. And besides he also has to pay for school"

"Serizawa goes to school?" Shimazaki asked confused "Why?"

Hatori shrugged "He considered that was the the best way to better himself? Personally I think that decision was whack"

"You say that because you actually have a college degree"

"A college degree that has been useless so far. I mean, look at this!" Hatori stopped pointing at a poster that was glued to the wall. It was a lost dog poster "They are paying more money for finding this dog than what they pay me in a week!"

"Holy shit" Shibata exclaimed after examining the poster. They were in fact paying a big sum of money to whoever returned the dog "They really must miss him a lot"

"Or maybe they are just filthy rich"

"My point still stands. Even if they are rich they still went and put up posters-"

"Is it a lot of money?" Shimazaki suddenly asked.

"i just said its more than my salary" Hatori deadpanned

Shimazaki made a face "That doesnt tell me anything"

"You little-"

"Yes, it is a lot of money" Shibata intervened before they could start fighting again

Shimazaki smirked "It says where?"

Shibata was confused "Where what?"

"Where did it get lost?" Shimazaki asked frowming as if that was the most obvious answer in the world

"Here says it was lost at" Hatori picked the poster to read the name of the district written in smaller letters "Ha! See? I told you they were rich. They probably-"

Hatori couldnt finish his jab. Out of nowhere Shimazaki grabbed both his and Shibatas shoulder and the old familiar and nauseating sensation of teletransportation engulfed them.

Hatori stumbled forward the moment he felt his feet made contact with earth again.

"Oh god...I had forgotten how much I hated that" he said sitting on the floor squeezing his sides

Shibata wasnt in a better shape leaning agains the wall that thankfully had materialized behind him "Buddy...a warning would have been nice"

"Crybabies" Shimazki huffed. Even that brat had held it together better than them.

Hatori, still on the floor hunched over, glared at him "You are used to it!"

Shimazaki waved him off and started to walk out the alley they had been telatransported to "You are just a weak-"

"Shimazaki..." Shibata called out taking a step away from the wall and offering his hand to help Hatori stand up. His stomach was almost settled and he could breathe better "Why did you brought us here?"

"Where are we even?" Hatori asked taking Shibatas hand and letting himself be pulled by the bigger man.

Shimazaki turned to look over his shoulder at the two of them "Didnt you say Minegishi needs money? We better find it before someone else does it. Besides there must be more lost dogs with owners willing to pay us- "

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?" Hatori exclaimed

Shibata and Hatori both turned to look at eachother gasping. None of them could believe what they were hearing.

"Shimazaki..." Shibata breathed out in disbelief while the corned of his mouth were strating to pull into a big grin "You really are becoming a better-"

"Are you going to help or not?!" Shimazaki yelled exasperated before Shibata could continue with his corny speach. He really really didnt want to hear it and was willing to abandon them there if they tried to force him.

Luckily they didnt.

"Of course well help you" Shibata happily replied walking towards the end of the alley where Shimazaki was, dragging Hatori with him. "Thats what friends are for!"

"What the big guy here said" Hatori grinned adjusting his skewed glasses "Except how are we even going to search for it?"

Shimazaki turned to look to Hatoris left hand where he was still holding the lost dog poster "Does it says something about the dogs size?"

"What? Why do you-" Shibata asked confused when realization dawned on him "Of course! Mental eye!"

"Duh!"

Hatori quickly turned the paper around and scanned it for a description letting out a Bingo once he found it

"Here. Medium sized Golden Retriever dog..."

He kept reading, Both him and Shibata explaining as best as they could how it looked like while Shimazaki nodded. Once it seemed like he understood he closed his eyes and focused for 1 minute until a smirk appeared on his face.

“I got 27 in the zone.”

Hatori and Shibata pumped their fists on the air”

“Ok. So well stay here lookin around while you go with them. Go! And make sure they are stray dogs and not inside houses!” Shibata cheered as Shimazaki teletransported away.

It didnt take more than 5 minutes for him to return carrying a happy dog in his arms. It turned to be the wrong breed but it didnt matter because as soon as Shimazaki went he returned to the place he found it and immediately went to look for another one.

That’s how the three of them spend their night with Shimazaki going and coming carrying a different dog each time. They eventually had to move another neighbourhood but it the end they found the correct dog matching the posters description and quickly made their way to the address on the poster.

When Minegishi came home late at night all he wanted to do was to drop dead on his bed and never wake up again.

But he couldnt.

There was a big pile of dishes waiting for him at the kitchens sink and it wasnt going to be long before the smell became unbearable.

Even with Shimazaki staying at Shibatas and Hatoris place dishes, that Minegishi hadnt been able to wash what with him working at least 2 shifts most days, had kept accumulating to the point the stink was becoming unbearable.

He considered using his powers to do the dirty work but god he was so tired he didnt even have enough energy in him to lift a single leaf much less manipulate the necessary amount of vines to do that chore.

Who would have thought working a double shift at the flower shop could be so tiring? Not him even though he already worked there.

He clearly had understimated the strain customer service would put on him after 10 hours of dealing with it. Not to mention the physical extenuation from hauling all those dirt sacks.

Minegishi was too tired but he couldnt go to sleep yet.

Still.

That didnt mean he couldnt take a small break and sit down for a moment.

He had been on his feet all day. He deserved this.

Those were Minegishi last thoughts because the moment he sat down on hia couch in the living room and his head felt the support of the headrest he fell sound asleep.

He woke up to the feeling of something being dropped on his lap.

When he opened his eyes the room was dark and he couldnt see a thing but he could feel the strong presence of someone else in the room and with quick practiced motions he stood up ready to fight at the same he commanded his planta to turn on the light switch.

Light came and with it the sight of a very amused Shimazaki staring back at him.

"You are finally goinfmg to fight me?" the blind man asked with a smirk on his face.

"Keep wishing" Minegishi huffed dragging a hand along his face. "Ugggh. What time is it?"

He wasnt really expecting an answer from Shimazaki so he was suprised when the man replied.

"3am"

"Huh? That late?" Minegishi said rubbing his eyes. "Must have fallen asleep" he muttered. He remembered cheking his phone when he arrived home and it had only been 10 pm.

"Werent you supposed to work the night shift today?" Shimazaki asked surprising Minegishi for the second time that night. He hadnt thought Shimazaki cared enough to remember his schedule. Lucky guees, perhaps?

"Yeah...but I was sent home." Minegishi simply said. He didnt feel like explaining the concern his boss had expressed at Minegishis apparently terrible state.

Shimazaki then made a face Minegishi had never seen on him making him a little wary of the man. His sides still hurt from prank they had pulled on him.

#nie's writing

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shooter-nobunagun · 4 years

Text

Quarantine UST

//The Second Platoon is forced to house together for approximately one month due to the COVID pandemic. Unresolved sexual tension and chaos ensue (also team bonding! Yay!)

This is a bit of an AU, as it takes place before Adam and Sio get together (and obviously COVID didn’t happen...)

“Wait...you can’t be serious...!”

“The Commander never jokes around, Jack. I assure you these are her exact orders.”

“Alright I get it, but still⁠—is this really necessary?!”

“As members of DOGOO, you are public facing figures—therefore it is more important than ever to follow the protocols and show the world we care about protecting them, from both outside and inside threats—”

“⁠—that doesn’t mean we have to be quarantined inside a house? In a civilian zone?! What’s wrong with returning to the base and staying there instead? I hardly see how staying in some random house is more isolated than returning to the Logan or even the Clayton Forrester...”

“I’m afraid that decision isn’t yours to make, Jack. Or, I should say, Adam Muirhead. Your orders have been given. We will be in touch shortly with further instructions. Saint-Germain out.”

“Hang on you bastard—bloody hell!”

Sighing, the leader of the Second Platoon angrily stowed away his comm, running a hand through dirty silver locks. He needed a shower, but it appeared that might have to wait until a good deal later.

“Ah, Jack-san? How did it go? What did the Commander want?” The team’s sniper, Nobunagun, gave their leader a worried glance as she noticed his haggard expression upon return, the rest of the platoon waiting in a tent as DOGOO personnel cleaned up the remains of their alien foes.

He eyed her with a wary glance, wondering how he should even break the news to the rest of the squad. On one hand, he agreed; if there was a virus raging across the planet then it was vital they take steps to mitigate the damage. Things were bad enough as it was with the Evolutionary Invasion Objects, now they were on the verge of a pandemic, to boot.

On the other...

“...Command wants us to stay here, in the San Francisco region. Says it’s too risk to go back t’ the base for now, what with that new virus flying about. Especially since this area’s a hot zone for infections...”

The others blinked at him, as if not believing his words. Adam grit his teeth and resisted the urge to lose his temper. He was their leader, and it was imperative he keep calm, even if all he wanted to do was to toss his comm into the air, slash it half with his sword and curse Command and their inane decisions.

Instead, he simply shook his head and motioned for the team to gather their personal effects, which mercifully had been transferred off the helicopter already. Perhaps it was sheer luck the team had been planning for a few days aboard the Forrester anyway, otherwise even getting basic necessities like toiletries and clothing would’ve been an ordeal.

‘Not that it already isn’t; based on what the news is saying, we should probably stock up when we get the chance,’ Adam thought glumly as they piled into the awaiting Jeep, Nobunagun⁠—or Sio Ogura, now that they were off-duty⁠—the only one of them who seemed excited. The girl was a self-proclaimed military otaku and obsessed with anything and everything related, including vehicles. She craned her neck out so far Adam was afraid he’d have to pull her in before she lost her head, literally.

“Oy squirt, watch it! This ain’t a joyride, and you’re not a mutt. Get yer head back in here before yeh lose it!”

“Wah⁠—Jack-san, I was just trying to take a picture! Jeeze...meanie.” The girl muttered, but she did slink back into her spot next to their buxom teammate, Jess Beckham⁠—a.k.a. e-gene holder of Isaac Newton.

“Don’t take it so hard, Sio-chan⁠—Jack’s just worried about you, as all good senpais should, right?” Their defender, the reincarnation of one Mahatma Gandhi, gave the girl a kindly pat. “Never thought I’d say the words “Jack the Ripper” and “worried” in the same sentence, hmm Adam?”

“Piss off, Mirza; otherwise I’d be more than happy to shove you out,” the silver-haired man muttered, already on-edge from this unexpected arrangement and certainly not in the mood for jokes.

Afterwards the team collapsed into a sullen silence, even Sio somewhat muted after Adam’s outburst. After winding around the hills of San Francisco, they arrived at a more residential district, with narrow streets that could hardly fit their oversized vehicle—but, as the sniper watched with bated breath, not only did they make it but with oncoming traffic, to boot.

“Here you are, the Second Platoon’s temporary quarters for the time being. One of DOGOO’s board members owns it, and he’s arranged for you guys to stay here until the quarantine period’s over, provided you don’t go around destroying the place,” their driver gave them the rundown while offloading their duffels at the same time. “Though honestly, I don’t think they’ve got anything to worry about⁠—you’re all responsible enough.”

Adam thought he saw Mirza (Mahesh Mirza, for the record) give a side-eyed glance at Jess, but said nothing more. He was tired, cranky, needed food and more importantly a nice, hot shower. As the soldier bid them farewell⁠—”don’t hesitate to contact us if anything comes up”⁠—they unlocked the door, and DOGOO’s Second Platoon piled unceremoniously into the foyer, still in their under armor.

The house was a genuine San Francisco Victorian: as evidenced by the gothic-style roof peaks, wrap-around porch and wrought-iron window sills. There was even a real crystal chandelier above their heads, though it was clear the house had also been remodeled to accommodate modern comforts. In particular, the kitchen looked like it would be right at home in a 3-star Michelin restaurant, and a giant, 70-inch flat screen TV was mounted above the (real) fireplace. The entire place was tastefully decorated in what Jess liked to call “shabby chic”, though upon closer inspection, some parts of the house were quite old.

“Whoa...this place is huge!” The sniper’s eyes were wide as saucers, having never seen this type of architecture in Japan before. “Ooh, a real fireplace! Maybe we can use it...oh wow, this couch is super comfortable!” Amazingly, even after a hard day’s battle the sniper still had energy to go about admiring the furnishings and odds and ends; tired as they were, the rest of the squad couldn’t help but be slightly amused by their youngest member’s enthusiasm.

“Oh sweet, we can each get our own room!” Her voice echoed from upstairs as Mahesh and Jess looked around, nodding approvingly. “I call the one with the bay window!”

“Well, seems like we’ve got central heating, but no AC...I guess San Francisco’s cool enough to not need it?” Mahesh questioned their leader, but Adam only gave an aggravated sigh.

“Yeh, you say that now, I guarantee you won’t be thinking that when it starts warming up...tch, what is it with Yanks and their need to have heating but no air conditioning,” the silver-haired man muttered under his breath.

“I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” the Indian mused, not wanting to anger their leader any more than he already was. “Ah, well it seems the girls have chosen their rooms. It looks like the only two left are...one downstairs, to the left of the kitchen, or...at the very top, the attic?”

“I don’t give a damn, honestly. Look, why don’t you take the downstairs, and I’ll take the attic?” If he’d been more alert, Adam would have remembered that heat rises, and so if and when the weather turned warm he would be screwed; but as it was all he wanted was to just unpack his clothes, shower and sleep, and so Mahesh merely raised an eyebrow, but agreed without comment.

A message chimed on his phone (they had cell service again, and internet now that they were off DOGOO premises); apparently Saint-Germain had gone ahead and ordered them take-out for dinner, and it was on its way via the city’s plethora of food delivery services. There was also a calendar event for a more formal meeting with the Commander tomorrow, where apparently they would discuss this whole quarantine business in greater detail. Eyeing it once, Adam tossed his phone onto the bed and headed straight for the shower. ----- “Moouu, jeeze I wish they didn’t handle my luggage so roughly...argh great, now it’s everywhere...crap, my clothes are ruined.” Sighing, Sio gingerly picked through the contents of her duffel to see if any clothes had been spared⁠—but no; to her misfortune, one of her shampoo bottles somehow spilled (it was probably the air pressure), and now her wardrobe was effectively soiled.

Including the clothes she needed tonight.

Whining to no one in particular, the sniper decided instead to see if at least something could be washed in the sink, and maybe blow-dried with a hairdryer. Grumbling to herself, she headed for the nearest bathroom down the hall⁠—though it never occurred to her to check first to see if it was occupied...

“Gyaahhh!!!”

“Th’ fuck⁠—!”

Sio squealed in embarrassment, but her eyes were definitely not looking away. Oh no. For just as she’d opened the door their leader, Adam Muirhead, had just gotten out of the shower and was standing there in his buff, naked glory, save for a just-in-time towel around the waist. Steam clouded the room, but Sio still saw every single water droplet hanging off his silvery locks, which were now plastered against his neck, and the beads of sweat clinging to every single crevice of those finely chiseled muscles.

In other words, if it weren’t for the situation (and the fact he annoyed her so much) she definitely would be having a nosebleed.

He seemed to be just as mortified as her though, if that furious blush on his face was anything to go by. “Fer Christ’s sake girl, don’t you ever knock?! What the hell’s wrong with you! Surely you could tell someone was in here?!”

“I-I, I’m, s, s, sorry, Jack-san⁠—I-I just⁠—I-I’m not used to, sharing a bathroom with other people...” The girl seemed to be on the verge of tears, and immediately Adam felt bad for yelling at her⁠—but seriously, was she blind or something?

“I, uh, I...m, my, clothes got dirty⁠—cause my shampoo, I guess it spilled and I just thought I could try and wash it out in the sink and maybe it would dry before bed⁠—”

“⁠—Could you at least shut the door, first?” He snapped irritably, not keen on anybody else walking in. “So, your clothes got dirty. And your first thought is to...wash them in the sink?”

Those teary maroons blinked at him, clearly confused. “Y, Yes...? I-I mean, how else would I...”

“...You know there’s a laundry room just downstairs, right?” Adam deadpanned. Was this girl for real? ‘Alright, I get she’s just a high schooler, but seriously, how the hell did she even make it into DOGOO in the first place? I guess e-genes can’t be choosers...’

The girl turned red, and looked away in shame. “I, uh, um...I can’t...use it...”

Adam raised a silvery brow. “Can’t use it? As in, you don’t know how to operate the machine or you don’t know how to wash your own clothes?”

“...”

“...Lemme guess, you’re one of those kids who has her mum do everything, huh?”

At this point, Sio looked so downtrodden Adam couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for her. They’d all had a long day, things were kinda crazy, and even though he wasn’t much older than her, and she irritated him at times, as the leader he still felt responsible for all his teammates. Which included the newbie.

Adam took a deep breath. “...Alright look, let me finish up here and uh, I’ll help ya out with that. Yeh?”

“H-Huh? Is that...okay? S, Sorry...”

“Forget about it; the faster we get this taken care of, the sooner we can settle in. Now, are ya gonna let me get dressed in peace or not? Unless yeh wanna be called a voyeur...” He jerked his head towards the door and the sniper scuttled out like a crab, face still pink.

A few minutes later Adam emerged, hair still damp but now dressed in a casual outfit consisting of a pink polo shirt and baby-blue ankle pants, of all things. Despite her embarrassment Sio couldn’t help but stare a little; the dichotomy between his attitude and choice of clothing was something else, but she had enough sense to not say anything.

“You got your stuff?” The sniper nodded and handed the duffel over. “Right, let’s get these sorted out⁠—”

“⁠—W-Wait, what are you doing?! Don’t go pawing through my clothes⁠—”

She froze as he turned towards her with a dead-eye stare, that emerald glaring at her with a look of disbelief. “Look, if I’m gonna help you do laundry, then you’re going to learn how to do it the right way, so pay attention. First off, you sort them; lights in one load, darks and colours in another. This way you won’t get issues like your whites turning pink or everything turning grey. Also, different colours use different water temps. You want hotter for whites, cold for bright colours so they don’t bleed.” As he sorted her laundry into two piles, Sio watched with amazement as he did everything with a practiced hand.

“Oh, and obviously you’ll want to wash these on the delicates cycle so they don’t get ruined,” he tossed her underwear into another pile, “what, don’t give me that look, squirt. You’re dead wrong if you think I give a crap about what kind of knickers you wear.”

He rolled his eyes and Sio felt her blood pressure rise. So all right, she never learned how to do laundry, but did he have to be so condescending about it? “L-Look, I...know I’m not good at a lot of things, but you don’t have to be so mean about it... I’m sorry, okay?!”

The lid slammed down so suddenly the girl gave a startled yelp. “Look, Ogura. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You don’t know how to do this, so I’m teaching you now, so next time you can do it yourself, yeh?” The sniper nodded timidly, and Adam sighed again.

“...An’ I’m...sorry for being so short-tempered about it. Honestly, I’m just right buggered...first we get pulled into a battle that the First Platoon was supposed to handle on their own⁠—those wankers⁠—and now we can’t even go back to base; seriously, what the hell is Command thinking...”

Sio nodded. “It’s, okay...I’m sorry for asking you to help me all the time...but, I uh, really appreciate it, Jack-san...” Despite his acerbic tongue, out of all her teammates he was also the one whom, strangely enough, she trusted the most. Sure he made quips about her lack of skills and teased her relentlessly, but now that she thought about it, when it really came down to it he was also the first one to help her out, and show her the ropes. ‘Not to mention, even though he yells a lot, he never actually...does anything weird to me. Unlike Newton or Gandhi...’

The girl shuddered a little at the thought of being locked in a house with her two more touchy-feely teammates for a month. Perhaps, if push came to shove, this would be when she told them how she really didn’t appreciate being apprehended all the time.

“Don’t mention it. Anyway, now you know how. It’ll probably take a while for these to wash and dry; if I were you, I’d borrow some clothes for the time being. You can probably ask Newton, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help.”

At the mention of their French-kissing teammate though, the girl visibly stiffened. “Ah, I er, it’s...it’s okay, I’ll just deal with it until they’re done. I don’t really wanna bother her right now...b-besides, I...kinda doubt Jess’ stuff would fit me anyway...”

Oh. Right. The sniper had a point; not that Adam particularly paid attention to appearances, but it didn’t take much to notice that Sio was much smaller and more petite compared to the curvy and buxom blonde, who’d been a model before all this, to boot.

“...Right. Well, whatever, it’s your call. I suppose going commando is an option as well...just make sure you’ve got enough blankets,” he smirked, causing Sio to turn bright red again.

“H-Hey! Pervert!” She attempted to swipe him with her bag, but he was too fast. “Jerk...I’m not that young, I can figure out things for myself!”

“Riiight. Sure you can. Anywho, I am starving and bloody exhausted, and the food’s just arrived so I’m going to grab some nosh and then head to bed. You can do whatever you want, hanninmae.” And with a barely concealed grin Adam headed towards the dining room, leaving Sio blushing and fuming at his words, but also somewhat grateful he’d helped her out.

“Ugh, what an asshole...sheesh, I’m not that helpless! ...Even if I just learned how to do laundry for the first time...” Why did he have to be so attractive yet infuriating at the same time? Wait, did she just think Jack the Ripper was attractive?

‘No no no, ooh no Sio, you cannot be thinking those thoughts! He’s a total jerk, no manners or patience whatsoever—and he keeps calling you a half-baked squirt! Do you really wanna end up with someone like that?! Quick, think about nice things instead...like, that Jeep you rode in! Or Asao-san, she’s way prettier and nicer than stupid Jack...’

The sniper stilled as she came to a realization. ‘Wait a minute, we’re off DOGOO property, which means...’

“Cell phone, here I come! Woo hoo!” The delightful buzzing of all her piled-up incoming messages cheered her up somewhat, Sio resolving to spend some time before bed finally catching up with Asao-san—and probably her parents as well.

The take-out boxes were thoroughly ravaged by the time the sniper made her way to the dining area, but she was happy to see plenty of food remained. She couldn’t tell what she was eating—the cuisine was either American or European and that was about all she could figure—but she was so hungry and tired at this point even cardboard would’ve been satisfying. The rest of her teammates were nowhere to be seen, and the sniper gave a little sigh of relief. She did appreciate them, truly (even with their not-so-nice quirks) but as an introvert, she was most relaxed when alone.

“Huh, should I just...leave these here? Well, but it’s not like we’re gonna have cleaning services here...guess I’ll just do my best.” Sorting through the boxes, she threw away the empty ones and piled the dirty dishes into the sink. She was just about to try and figure out if it was worth learning how to use a dishwasher when Adam came down the stairs, both of them surprised at the other.

“Oh! Uh, Jack-san...I just, figured I should help clean up a bit...”

“Yeh uh, I figured...the same. Might as well try and keep it clean from the start...’specially knowing what slobs those two are,” he nodded in the direction of the others’ rooms. “So, you wanna learn how to load a dishwasher?”

Sio nodded quietly. It was so strange, how he seemed to have two different moods. One minute he was serious but cordial, and the next he’d be yelling about another of her mishaps and complaining how she couldn’t do anything right. ‘Maybe, just maybe...I’ll finally have the chance to get to know him better...’

“Dishwashers rare where you’re from? I know in England, a lot of the older places don’t have it; ‘specially if they’re small.” It took a few seconds before Sio realized he was trying to make some small talk with her.

“O-Oh! Y-Yeah uh, we don’t have one at my house, either. It’s kind of a ‘rich people’ thing. I was just gonna do them by hand, but it’s probably faster to use dishwasher since we have one, huh?”

She watched intently as Adam showed her how to load the dishes in by size, where to separate the silverware, and how much detergent to put in. He let her select and activate the cycle though, and by the end Sio felt pretty proud her of herself, even though he’d done most of the work.

“Th-Thank you...Jack-san. I, I know I’m not really great at a lot of things, and I’ve definitely got a lot to learn...s, so, I swear I’ll do my best during this quarantine period.” Her eyes were shining with a rare bit of determination, Adam a bit taken aback at her sincerity, but found himself appreciating it.

“...You’ll do just fine, rookie.” It felt weird to be genuinely complementing her, and Adam couldn’t figure out why he felt so apprehensive around her, even though deep down, he did want to tell her she was doing a good job already. Even though she was inexperienced, the way she never gave up and threw herself into whatever came her way...his body flushed with an odd tingle and suddenly Adam really needed to have some time to himself. “A-Anyway, it’s late, you should sleep and get some rest. I’m heading up. ‘Night.”

“Oh right...uh, oyasumi, Jack-san...” She followed him up the stairs, and just as she was about to go into her room something soft flew through the air and landed on her head. “Wha—er, what is this...?”

“Just make sure you don’t get these dirty as well. I don’t have that much t’ spare.” Before Sio could make heads or tails of it he disappeared into the attic room, the sniper now finally untangling the bundle.

“These are...a t-shirt and...boxers?? A guy’s, at that...” She blushed, suddenly realizing this was Adam’s subtle gesture of looking out for her, even if he didn’t say it aloud. “It feels a little weird to be wearing his clothes...but well, I guess I might as well, since he’s offering...also, I really don’t wanna go commando...” At least they were clean and relatively well-kept.

After a hot shower that soothed 90% of all her aches, Sio now sat in her new room, wrapped in a fluffy towel as she attempted to put on Adam’s clothes. The t-shirt was much too large, but it made for a nice makeshift nightgown as it reached just above her knees. She noticed the Metal Gear logo on the front—was he possibly a gamer?—then picked up the boxers. Luckily there were drawstrings so she could tighten it until it finally stopped falling off her waist, but as she dug around, she noticed an opening in the front.

“Eh? What’s this...weird, why is there a hole here? Is this a rip? Doesn’t look like it though...oh well, doesn’t matter to me.” As she finally settled into her bed, furiously texting Asao-san about all the things that happened in the span of one day, she noticed a foreign scent; it was not unpleasant, but rather cozy...

‘...Is this coming from his clothes?’ She sniffed a bit at the t-shirt. It was clean, but aside from the detergent she could also smell something else. ‘...Er, is this his...scent?! Alright Sio, don’t think about it...it’s not bad or dirty, just...’ She blushed a bit, and decided not to finish that thought, just as her phone rang.

“M-Mooouu...! Asao-san, just wait until you hear what’s been going on...”

#documentation #//hi im bored #//quarantine inspiration time #//guiltily looks at million and one other fics #//...sorry

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the-uptake · 5 years

Text

Concrete Boxes Made of Ticky-Tacky

The Uptake, With Symbiotic Self-Indulgence. Book III, Chapter 9. Go to previous. Go to next. TW: Disaster area navigation. That’s not suspicious at all.

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A month after Central Day, Tri-City announced acceptance of the initial wave of returning citizens, public transportation filled to capacity which was dedicated to just the task of easing the displaced out of Manhattan Premier. On the triple-decker bus headed to Level 10, ‘Choly’s wheelchair wedged up close to Cecil’s seat. Albeit grateful to be rid of the impermanence of the Hillock Plaza and its Overflow, none of the bus’s passengers felt any reprieve from the dread of uncertainty ahead.

“There’ll always be another page of billing,” Cecil finally sighed. He glared at the screen in the front of their floor’s cabin, as it looped instructional clips how to proceed upon returning home. He shifted in his seat at ‘Choly’s slowly elongating face. “We’re increasingly tethered, through lack of choices otherwise, to federal aid programs. Billing is the least of my worries. How the rolling sector housing provisional care will pan out is a definite concern. But what we’ve been allotted is all we’ve got at the moment. We don’t even have a ‘who’ or a ‘why’ yet. So we’ve got to make do.”

“It’s a long time before we have to worry about moving,” ‘Choly offered unhelpfully. “Silver linings, that we were federal employees, I suppose. Surely five years’ provisions will be long enough for them to get Central repaired, or even replaced.”

“It’s less that we don’t have to move, and more that we can’t. That’s probably the one thing I’ve signed off on in the past month that I straight up can’t stand the thought of.” Cecil squirmed in place to straighten in his fiberglass seat. “Look. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s all we’ve been discussing for days, between getting packed up and speaking with the FEMA attorneys. I’m going to turn off my ears until we’re at the complex, okay? Try out your new reader’s headset, get used to it. Chill a bit. We both need a chance to unplug from this shit for a moment.”

Cecil put a hand to ‘Choly’s knee, then used his other hand to gesture along the surface of the thetic halo to free the handshake. The faint glowing of the circuitry within the translucent organometallic structure encircling his head went dark, and he slouched back with a slow grunting exhale to stare out the window.

With a pouting nasal snort, ‘Choly pulled the bone conduction headset from his diamond bag, unfolded it, and slipped it on. He had many ways in which he envied Cecil’s survivorship. Here and now, he most envied the feature of his boyfriend’s accommodations which enabled him the ability to unplug from unpleasant discussions. He did wonder if Cecil had any theories as to motive and perpetrator, but despite all the time they’d already had to discuss the Central bombing, Cecil always conveniently found the means to sideline the subject in favor of just about anything else. But this felt nothing like how Cecil had withheld from ‘Choly that the Fulton Mass and the Supermarket Geek had been one in the same, despite vocal interest in both Web sensations. He could chalk up Cecil’s behavior to the traumatic nature of such an experience: Cecil had, after all, survived an explosion which destroyed a majority of the building which housed the city’s largest concentration of servers, networks, and energy sources.

Maybe ‘Choly was being insensitive, forcing Cecil to talk about it any more than he had. It was one thing, to disclose secondhand information about a tragic event, but another entirely to have been directly involved and impacted to the extent as his other half.

So he focused on fidgeting with the new reader. The model nearly felt like a totally different type of technology compared to the reader ‘Choly had had for eight years leading up to Central Day. His last reader had been rooted and customized to his specifications, and he’d had all the settings just as he liked them and hadn’t had to adapt to a new model or interface every four months like the Levelers. This reader had nothing in common with his last one, barring the fact they were both readers. Last time he’d tried to set it up, to his chagrin he’d figured out how to handshake the cube tray wrist loop to the reader storage. It had no mounted cube tray, and he hated it, but he’d just have to deal. He still couldn’t figure out how to pull up the screen’s keyboard, and the Web settings were greyed out where he couldn’t edit them. The notifications reminded him on the regular that the reader’s operating system awaited pending updates. He couldn’t turn off these reminders, either. His jaw tightened.

A hybrid slasher sounded like an easy distraction at first, since he knew they had a long transit ahead of them, but he knew he couldn’t focus on a film in his mental state. As he set his music cubes to shuffle and adjusted the volume of his headset, he realized that the reason he couldn’t access Web settings was because Web in Tri-City had ceased to exist. Can’t pull up specs on a dead network. He swallowed and Cecil let him hold his hand, joining him in watching the cityscape flicker by around them.

He had to look at the time on his reader to be certain of the time of day, because the trichotomy of the rolling blackout made it impossible to tell just by the qualities of the neobrutalist building surfaces. Tesla Incorporated had divided the city into sectors five levels high and roughly one mile square. Primary sectors aligned with the first shift of midnight to eight in the morning, secondary sectors with the second shift of eight to four in the afternoon, and tertiary sectors four to midnight. The city already reflected the effects of the roll. Projected adverts and running lifts animated the active secondary sectors. Charged Wolfram concrete alone illuminated the stretches of yawning primary sectors. And tertiary sectors lay dark and silent, as they had not yet received any returning inhabitants. They’d have to get used to the Tesla employees, vehicles, and equipment now a present and constant sight in Tri-City for the indefinite future. Only emergency vehicles, public transportation, and ShipShop drones shuttled about the thoroughfares.

The denizens of the bus had all come from HP and HP Overflow. ‘Choly got stuck surveying the survivors. He didn’t often feel much camaraderie with strangers, and it dulled him to find himself reflected in the angles of others’ segmented thetic limb prostheses and cosmetic reconstructions, and the haggard fabric of their faces. He wondered if they, too, experienced the sense of this othering unity, like they all belonged to a new class of citizen altogether, when they regarded his wheelchair, and his leg brace. He shook his head of it and assumed no one else would entertain this brand of nonsense.

His eyes lolled in dismissal of his mentality, silently cursing out those living higher than Level 19. How dare they have access to solar energy? He had never really given the upper crust much thought or attention, but in that moment, his sentiment throttled him to tremendous jealousy. The disaster had all but not affected them. Besides the loss of Tri-City specific Web broadcasts, ‘Choly couldn’t think of a single way the Twentisomes didn’t simply go on as they always had.

He sneered. Except those in the Newark Bay area, of course. But somehow, ‘Choly was jealous of those evacuees most of all. They’d been affected by the bombing more than any survivor. Only the block directly adjacent to Central, Levels 5 to 19, had been evacuated until the reactor explosion. FEMA thought they had the nuclear facility under control, only for twenty thousand civilians to get irradiated by four of the nine reactors melting bottom-out. One of the four exploded outright, sending two reactors into the bay with it. The entire Newark Bay would be in a permanent state of phosphorescent excitation until federal employees could seal up the waste fuel and any irradiated debris. Newark Bay survivors would remain under the care of Overflow facilities throughout New Jersey and New York for indefinite supervision and medical care. ‘Choly had been glued to documentation of this nascent exclusion zone, and he endeared it as though some transcendental slurry of ghosts trapped in place for centuries to come.

The bus let out at its next Level 10 stop, this time in Journal Square. Everyone unloading here retrieved their luggage from the under-bus cargo, and besides those who lived on Level 10, they filed out to the public lifts appropriate to their final destination. Tesla operated the lifts with on-site generators dedicated just to this mode of public transportation, already acutely aware of not just the heightened necessity for vertical mobility, but also the varying injuries the returning population had sustained. Almost too graciously, the power company, cooperating with federal emergency agencies, had taken injury and disability accommodations into consideration, and extended all the help they could within the apartment complexes for those who could not simply take the stairs once they were on the right level.

‘Choly removed his headset, and Cecil turned his halo back on. Cecil pulled a piece rolling luggage behind them and put the smaller piece in ‘Choly’s lap, and pushed ‘Choly along inside the public lift. Once the lift was to its five hundred occupant capacity, the Tesla worker ordered the pocket doors shut and they were on their way to Level 15. Fortunately for the pair, they would exit on Level 12 about fifteen minutes later.

The facade of their apartment complex crawled with advertisements for ShipShop’s new drone program. They filed in with about a hundred of their technical neighbors, and waited in line for the Tesla-operated elevators. Many of those who had the option grew impatient and dragged themselves up the stairwells rather than wait ten at a time. When ‘Choly and Cecil rode, only eight could fit from the wheelchair, and the Tesla employee cited space and weight limits. At the last minute, a heavyset tall blond man in a white bodysuit and a thetic with insectoid quadrupedal limbs squeezed their way into the elevator, its ninth and tenth occupants.

Everyone in line yelled and groaned at him. The pocket doors shut, and the Tesla employee slapped him in the chest. The thetic’s heavily stylized mannequin-like holographic features swiveled around to apologize to the group in the elevator without turning its cylindrical head.

“Did you not just hear me, ShipShop?” the operator snapped. “You of all people should know better than to push capacity.”

“We just got off shift.” He rolled his eyes and slicked back his short sweaty hair. “Gimme a break.”

“Please forgive him, if you could,” the thetic insisted with hesitant posture. It telescoped itself tight up into the back corner of the elevator to occupy the least amount of space possible. “We’ve had a particularly dicey day of it.”

The Tesla employee ignored the pair and addressed the other eight people.

“Floors, everyone?” She instructed the elevator as indicated.

“–Wait.” ‘Choly couldn’t decide whether to stare at the ShipShop employee or the thetic, whose upper half very clearly had once belonged to some manner of public transit autopilot system. “You already got back home? You sure you’re in the right building?”

The blond shoved his gloved hands in his pockets with a matter of fact slouch.

“Never left. ShipShop associates weren’t allowed to evacuate. Ninth floor, by the way.”

The Tesla worker jammed the button a second time for emphasis. ‘Choly and Cecil both flinched that he lived on the same floor.

“That’s sure an interesting customization,” Cecil commented of the thetic, not making eye contact with either. “ShipShop approve that?”

“If you let me help you carry your luggage,” he sleazed, “I’ll tell you all about it.”

‘Choly flipped his sunglasses down and shrank in his chair. Despite obvious body language that ‘Choly disapproved, Cecil nodded and shrugged with a bored frown.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Not sure why you’re offering to lug anything after what you said was a particularly awful shift, but I imagine not too many of the neighbors we knew before all this are coming back. Might as well get familiar with our floor mates.”

The ShipShop employee tried to take the handles of the wheelchair to shuttle ‘Choly along, but Cecil shouldered the man away and gave him the luggage. Cecil pushed ‘Choly, and the blond let out a hesitant chuckle as he let the thetic carry both the rolling luggage and the carry-on from ‘Choly’s lap, trawling along on its four long spindly legs.

“A natural redhead, then, I’m presuming,” he grinned as he trailed along behind them.

“You were saying?” Cecil quipped, not looking back.

“Oh! Angel here?” It let out a digital chirp when mentioned, but said nothing. “It was the navigation system of the ShipShop delivery truck I was working on April Fools, but it crashed on the Lincoln Skybridge. ShipShop wanted to scrap it ‘cause they faulted its navigation matrix for the six-car wreck. Funny how I haven’t met a single person who had a good night on the First, right? Anyway, I smuggled it into the taxi that picked me up before crash collection could haul it off. Been working on it all month. It’s given me something to busy myself with, mostly alone here. The legs are a work in progress, but it’s pretty great, right?”

“Gives me the creeps,” ‘Choly blurted out with a sharp saucer-eyed sniff. “Fff. Franken-thetic.”

“Giving him the creeps is a good thing,” Cecil translated wryly. “I’d be lying if I said I weren’t a little impressed.”

“What are those legs even from?” ‘Choly continued, fidgeting.

“That’s my secret.” The blond grinned. “Name’s Jacob, by the way.”

“Cecil. And this is Melancholy.”

“Jus’ ‘Choly’s fine.” They got to Cecil’s door and ‘Choly glanced to Angel. “Hazarding a guess. Those legs are somethin’ salvaged from a yard on Level 2.”

Jacob straightened in place, not blinking for a moment while he processed the theory.

“Now that’s an interesting thing to suppose.” He whet his lips and pressed them together. “I guess I could say you answered one of many questions, by asking one of your own.”

“He’s on the level.” Cecil gestured for Angel to relinquish their luggage. “Though I wonder if you are.”

“What coy dialogue. I was right to help you along to satisfy my curiosity. Is it just the two of you here?”

“Yes– Wish I could say one way or another if it’s been a pleasure.” Cecil shrugged gratefully at the thetic. “Thank you, Angel.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. I was just acting on Jacob’s behalf.”

“I don’t like sayin’ stuff besides what’s meant,” ‘Choly started with a frown. He glanced both ways down the hall. “Why did you follow us? You didn’t just want our impression of your robot.”

“910-B. We’re down at 925-B.” Jacob eyed the apartment door. “You said it yourself, Cecil. What’s the matter with helping a couple of my floor mates get settled back in? We were going the same way.”

“Do let us know if you need a thing, will you?” Angel swiveled behind Jacob to the other side, trying to nudge him along, its features flickering anxiously. “Jacob keeps odd hours, but if we’re present, we’re more than happy to be at your beck.”

“Right. Y’all need help inside?”

“We appreciate the help, but I hope you’ll understand that we’re not inviting you in at the moment.”

“I’ll come borrow a cuppa glow later then.” Jacob kind of hopped in place and gave them a jerking salute with his left hand, his head askew. “I’m gonna go crash.”

“Goodnight,” ‘Choly called out after them jokingly as they walked off without further circumstance. He double-checked the time on his reader. Not quite three in the afternoon yet.

Jacob thoughtfully mumbled Melancholy under his breath, just loud enough to be heard.

Cecil already had the door open before ‘Choly noticed, and shoved him inside to use the wheelchair to prop the door open. He dragged the luggage inside. A good number of lights and appliances were still on. ‘Choly wheeled himself down the hall track to the kitchen, and spaced out in disgust at the thought of what the void of electricity might have wrought of the living space. He realized he was staring at the coffee carafe in particular. Cecil abandoned the luggage in front of his reading chair and joined ‘Choly in the back half of the apartment.

“I don’t like him,” Cecil remarked.

“I do. He’s just weird enough to get stuff. The. The coffee maker.” ‘Choly sniffed, and pushed his sunglasses lenses back up. “That half carafe’s been brewing for a month.”

“I’m not looking forward to investigating the fridge. We’ll deal with that later. Promise me if Jacob or that thetic come to the door, you won’t answer it. –Think it’s stuffy in here, or is it just me?”

“I promise,” ‘Choly echoed dully, registering the remark to the air quality. “Guess the HVAC hasn’t got working full swing quite yet.”

“Hopefully it’ll get circulating soon. It’s hot and… not dusty. Stale? in here.”

“Agreed.”

Cecil tried the faucet in the kitchen, eliciting a deep groan in the wall and little else. Then he tried the bathroom sink, and finally the bathtub faucet. A successful splatter of stale-smelling water spilled out into the tub, and he let it keep running, hoping to jog the plumbing a bit. He stared at the water for some time before leaving to fish through the kitchen cabinets, and returned to fill the one large resealable container they had on hand. He also filled a drinking glass and smelled of it before sipping it. When it passed his inspection, he filled the next two largest containers as well. All the while, ‘Choly had retrieved his cane from beside him and righted himself, leaving the chair in the kitchen to flop on the daybed. He pushed everything off the bed that he’d strewn about trying to quickly get ready to meet Augen for lunch a month ago, and readily dozed off. Cecil let him rest while he unpacked to distract himself.

“I’m thinking ordering dinner from ShipShop,” Cecil half-asked, half-announced from across the apartment. “Chinese?”

“Mm? Yeah. Sure.” ‘Choly took off his glasses and rubbed at his face. “Guessing that’s our main option until they get the lift situation hashed–”

The walls of the building hummed in decline, and everything fell dark. Only one of the two long walls of the apartment had exposed Wolfram concrete, and ‘Choly and Cecil just sat in place trying to accept this phase of the rolling blackout.

“–out.”

“Guess I’m done unpacking for now.” Cecil sighed. “We should buy some more Wolfram installments. One wall isn’t gonna cut it long-term.”

‘Choly got up and made the executive decision to open the blackout curtains over the window which took up the entire outer wall of the apartment. He stared out from where he stood with a difficult brow.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing the city only lit by the concrete,” he murmured.

“We’re inside. It’s fine. Come on, tell me what you want for dinner. The Web reception tanked with the power. I’ll go up to the rooftop kiosk and order in person. For once I’m glad we’re on the ninth floor of a twelve story building.”

“Let’s split something with shrimp.” ‘Choly started to walk toward Cecil, but stopped short. “I just put a finger on why that guy followed us. He recognized me.”

“From where?”

“The wreck on the Skybridge. He saw me and Augen walk away. Fuck–” He tugged at his sweatshirt in the twilight. “I’m even wearing the same shirt I was wearing–”

‘Choly could hear Cecil’s agitation mounting.

“…How were you two involved in that wreck?”

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#biopunk #cyberpunk #dystopian #postapocalyptic #robotics #the uptake #with symbiotic self indulgence #concrete boxes made out of ticky tacky #ticky tacky #melanochro kara #george cecil #angel #jacob thorn

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ununniliad · 5 years

Text

LNH20 Comics Presents #22: "The Return of Captain Killfile"

She fell

and she fell

and with a rude THUMP! she fell back into the world.

She scrambled to her feet. Disorientation. A sudden confusing sense of place.

Cold, but not the cold of space, a natural, wintery chill. Dark - night. Greenery, trees, bits of snow - nearby, a fence. Quiet here, but the quick rushing-river nose of traffic nearby, the clouds glowing softly. A city. Not a battle.

Last memory. Fighting. People she loved. ...fighting the people she loved. Because... because she had been Hildy, but now she was Captain Killfile, and they were trying to stop her from saving the world...

And then the wind kicked up and a copy of the Cleveland Plain Dealer hit her in the face.

She flailed around, electric crackling coming out of her gauntlets, and eventually managed to rip the paper off her face and examine it. What the-- Cleveland!? What was she doing in the second-most boring city in the nation[*]!?

[* In fact, the 2010 census shows Cleveland as the fourth-most boring city in the United States, with the current frontrunner being West Lafayette, Indiana! - Ed.(UE)]

She stared at the lines of ink, fragments of thought, memory, emotion bouncing into each other, forming new patterns before splitting and recombining. New city transit plan... tax breaks for people... protest against new law... rogue net.heroes... mmm. Something about that last one felt... off...

And only then, in her haze, did she paid attention to the date. February 20th... 2019?

Out of the fog, the memories rose up. The confrontation with her old team, now her enemies - the Saviors of the Net. Activating the great machine that would begin the process of healing. Sig.Lad, her mentor, her hero, the one who held her back and told her no until she had to leave, raising that damn sword, the Sword of .Sig, Excalibur, and pulling them away into a space where time blurred and softened... waking up and feeling the energies draining away, and draining away with them...

It had been twenty years.

Well, shit.

How had it ended? Had her machine worked? Had she taken away the corrupting power of the net.humans - and had humanity managed to heal themselves?

She looked at the crumpled newspaper. Rogue net.heroes... But the printed words swam before her eyes. No. She had to see for herself.

Captain Killfile... no, she told herself. Let's put that name aside. Right now, I am just myself; I am just Brunhilda.

Brunhilda seemed to still be wearing the gaudy gold-and-blue costume, from... before. When she'd taken over the airwaves, when she'd announced her plan to the world, standing in front of the camera and waiting. It'd been a bit spiteful; Sig.Lad had sent it to her a few months before as part of some weird attempt at reconnecting. That guy never knew how to do things in a normal way, just a net.hero way. That was part of...

Mmmm. Her mind was wandering, the fog still curling around it. She turned the hood and cape inside out, exposing the dark blue lining, and pulled the hood down over her face. Much less gaudy, pretty warm, and it'd let her see what 2019 was like without detection. Hopefully.

She slipped into the streets, keeping to the shadows, not hiding herself from passers-by but giving them more than a moment to pay attention to her presence. Subtle, like a ghost. Or like someone who lived in the world of ghosts, fighting them, death to a meaningless half-life...

Like Ghost Exterminator, the mysterious masked enigma of the 1950s. He (people thought it was a he, but nobody knew for sure) wandered thru the streets of San Francisco, stopping to help those in need. He didn't have any net.human powers, just skills, insight, and determination. Nobody knew why the name, either, but the big theory was that he was trying to rid himself of the ghosts who haunted him by helping others.

There had been more Ghost Exterminators in the decades since. It was an identity taken up by those who didn't want to operate under an identity of their own, living ghosts who fought the invisible specters that made society shudder and brought them into the light. Like she had. She'd seen what was wrong with the world that everybody else was too distracted or self-satisfied to realize, and fixed it.

Right?

Suddenly, action - damn, she'd left herself open in her distraction. Some kind of bright light next to her, and a loud voice-- "Greetings, Cleve.LAN.d!"

She rolled to the side and reached for her sword-- and it wasn't there. Falling back on net.hero instincts already, tch.

It was a giant TV, on the side of some kind of sports stadium. On it was a woman, a decade older than her, in a gaudy blue-and-gold mask and hood, with a megalomaniacal expression on her face. "I certainly hope you've missed me! But let me reintroduce myself!" She threw her arms out, flinging her gold-sequined cape to the sides. "I am... CAPTAIN KILLFILE!"

Brunhilda blinked. "...the heck you say," she murmured.

The fake!? took a step back, gesturing grandoisely at an enormous, complicated machine, all neon lights and chrome. "I have rebuilt my patented Kill-O-Ray, and am ready to unleash its awesome force!"

"That's not what it was called," snarled Brunhilda, her back going up. Some kind of awful parody, what was this?

"The fine government of this fair city has an hour to deliver ten million dollars in unmarked bills to the observation deck of the Terminal Tower - or I'll activate my device, and allow the dreaded Killfile to sweep over the land once more!" She pushed her face back into the camera, grinning with devilish glee. "Yes, you don't want that, do you? You may complain about your net.heroes, but ohhhhh, how you hated them going away! Ha ha!"

It felt like Brunhilda had been kicked in the stomach. What. No. Okay. No. Calm down. Fuck. Ugh. No. She pushed the storm of screaming thoughts out of her head and tried to concentrate on the screen.

"That's right!" shouted the masked face. "This is... THE RETURN OF CAPTAIN KILLFILE!"

"ugh shut uuuuup," she muttered, listening. Terminal Tower. Observation deck.

"And in case you doubt me..." The faux Captain stepped to the side, revealing a table with a shiny apple on a plate painted like a bullseye. Brunhilda noticed the glass lenses sliding along the machine's surface, passing past each other, clicking into place. They hummed, and the lights in the room seemed to darken, especially around the apple, which seemed to-- not disappear, nothing as sudden as that, but become less noticeable, more like the background, layer by layer, until it was completely gone.

Damn. That was absolutely real Killfile Energy. Sometime in the last twenty years, someone else had gotten up to her level - insult to injury.

"One hour, ladies, gents and honored guests! The clock starts--" Her hand hovered over a huge digital readout, pushed a big red button on it, and it started counting down. "Now!" The image disappeared, the screen turning an all-over blue with a big 'VIDEO' on it.

Brunhilda breathed in. Captain Killfile breathed out. All right. All right. Calm down. Breathe.

This was why she came out in Cleveland, twenty years later. To be shown this, to... stop this? To... understand? Ugh. But she didn't understand. Not yet. Why didn't... hated? Maybe it was a lie. Maybe it had made life better and this clown was like one of those politicians who talked about how much better things were with the new trade agreement even as it ground people into dust.

Or maybe she'd ground people into dust, thoughtlessly, caring only about herself-- no, calm down Hildy, you're okay, said the voice in her head that sounded just like Sig.Lad and ugh didn't that sting now. But she listened, and it said: See what's going on, take the time to understand, and see if you can help.

Okay.

Her Killfile Gauntlets were on the fritz, and she didn't have much time to tinker, but she knew just how to set up a killfile that would absorb energy weapons and shield her from detection, not to mention keep any externally-imposed killfiles from being placed on her. As for non-energy weapons, well, she'd just have to fall back on her fight training.

Now. Where was the Terminal Tower? Well, when you weren't sure where to find someone to fight, follow the police cars.

It turned out to be only a few minutes' walk. There was a big plaza around it with a bunch of expensive-looking restaurants and stores, now evacuated as the police set up a cordon. She kept back half a block, staying in the shadows to maximize the stealth effect of her killfile. How would she get in? Sure, she wasn't especially visible, but someone with that level of killfile technology would have ways of seeing thru it...

"Hi!"

"GAH!" She leapt in the air, spinning around and landing in a defense position, ready to strike at... a ten-year-old? What? Not only that, but a ten-year-old standing in an alleyway, wearing something that looked like miniaturized night vision goggles, but with googly eyes glued on them. He was looking right at her...

Then she recognized him. This kid wasn't just a kid, he was Kid Enthusiastic, an immortal who was actually older than her. (Not a lot older, but still.) He'd occasionally worked with the Saviors, but had never wanted to join - he had his own stuff going on. But it looked like he had a team now; there were a bunch of figures in colorful spandex behind him in the alley. Looked like teenagers, actually. Kinda familiar, but they must've been born after she disappeared...

"Who are you?" said the Kid. Damn, she was still zoning out. Okay, focus. "I thought I knew all the net.heroes operating in this area!"

"I'm, uh..." Captain Killfile was out, and she sure as heck wasn't going back to Kid Killfile. She flicked a switch on her gauntlet, appearing in the teenagers' vision like a spectre manifesting. "Ghost Exterminator."

"Ohhhhh!" Kid E clapped his hands with his famed energy. "One of them, gotcha gotcha. Well, I'm Kid Enthusiastic, and these are.." He gestured to the teens, who stepped out of the alley and posed! "The Ultimate Saviors!"

"Saviors?" Waaaaait a minute... she squinted. "As in... the Saviors of the Net?" There were five of them, all wearing masks, but their facial structures were clear as daylight, and... oh boy. Oh boy.

"Yeah, that's right! Apparently W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. wanted to clone them and have their own set of mind-controlled net.heroes! So we all busted out, together!" He spun around and pointed at them. "Ultimate Saviors, roll call!"

"Super Scary Dazzle Bird!" A young man in his late teens stepped out at Kid Enthusiastic's call. His costume was part black and part holographic sparklies, with long wings drooping off of the arms, and held a long fighting staff in a defensive pose. His eyes twitched back and forth, making sure that despite Kid E's loudness, no one was looking towards them. Brunhilda knew from the color choices alone that this must be the clone of Chromium Age Very-Scary-Disturbed-Creature Man.

"Robot Girl!" A girl whose skin glimmered chrome, with cat ears and a feline muzzle, wearing a green belly-shirt and shorts with a bright red belt, gloves and boots. She swept her long silver hair out of her face as it fluttered in the cold February wind and gave Brunhilda a level gaze, sizing her up. The outfit was terrible for this weather, but it didn't matter - this was the clone of MechaKat, who could nanobiologically turn flesh to titanium alloy. And if they had her, they probably also had...

"Action Lad!" A boy in a red wraparound jacket with silver trim and silver pants and wearing a transparent red visor, with a friendly but focused expression, and his hand on a sword hilt at his belt. Yep, that was him but younger - Sig.Lad, her old mentor, her new-old foe. She kept her face steady as the feelings whirled. Could this night get any more tuned to probe her insecurities?

"Kid Kindle!" This one was even younger - thirteen, maybe fourteen, with red hair that flickered with little tongues of fire as she watched, wearing a white robe with flames flickering along the bottom and a long scarf around his mouth. His eyes were excited, taking in the new visitor, and it was hard to keep her face steady, because boy did she ever know those eyes and that fire, boy did she know that boy - Flamebroiled Lad, avatar of the cosmic entity of intense emotion, the Flamebroiled Force. Her nemesis, her archrival, that stupid jerk who kept hogging the other Nintendo controller. Her brrrrr... o. Her bro.

And with a sudden shuddering shock that made the February evening feel balmy by comparison, she realized who the last clone would be--

"Kid Killswitch!" And there she came, in shining white armor with a bright red "power off" symbol on the chest, that familiar face, those familiar eyes, intelligent and curious and driven and broken, no, not that, said the voice in her head, but eyes that had known both pain and joy, like and unlike her own - the clone of Captain Killfile.

Brunhilda tried to release the churning whirlwind of emotions into some form that could be understood by men, but all that came out of her mouth was a murmured "...I'm too young to be my own mom..."

"...a?" Kid Enthusiastic tilted his head to the side, looking up at her curiously.

She shook her head, took a deep breath, and put away every feeling she didn't have time for right now. An incredibly useful skill from the life-or-death battle days. "That is, uh... Saviors, huh? So how are they ultimate?"

"Because they're the best and I love them!" Kid Enthusiastic spun around and posed, holding his arms wide as he showed off his team.

"Right yeah." Mecha-- er, Robot Girl stepped forward. "And apparently the lady what messed up the original Saviors is back and serious, so it's our job to stop her since they can't. Got a problem with that?"

Brunhilda couldn't help but smile. Well, well, the kids are all right. "Nope. Was just thinking the same thing."

"I don't know if I'd say it's our job," said Action Lad, stepping forward non-confrontationally into Robot Girl's confrontation space, "that seems to be basic survival."

Kid E nodded! "We've been laying low while we try'n contact the LNH. It's hard - W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. has facial recognition technology they use on all the security cam footage they can grab, and they can grab nearly all of it. So we've been keeping under wraps."

"But we still have to get out there and save people!" Kid Kindle's hair burst briefly into full flame, and he grinned in enthusiasm. Great, another one taking after his mentor. "We can't just stay in a safehouse and send emails!"

"So we wear facial-recognition-defeating face paint when we're undercover, and go on missions without it, since it's going to be obvious either way that the team of five teenage net.heroes that appeared out of nowhere are the same five teenage net.humans that disappeared from not-so-protective custody." Super Scary Dazzle Bird (what a name!) looked off towards the Terminal Tower. "Speaking of which, if you're coming with us, we'd better get going. The clock is still ticking."

The LNH must be the Something Net.Heroes, and Whatever... Net.villans? Government agency? Something else? Bad guys, or so Kid Enthusiastic thought, and she had to admit, cloning her old team in order to have some kind of controlled force didn't seem like an especially ethical thing. Had they taken over during the Killfile, when there weren't any net.heroes to stop them?

Brunhilda released her anxious feelings again, though this time it was harder. "Right. Time to team up and beat the bad guy." Just like the old days, only now, the bad guy was her...

No, the bad guy was a cheap copy who had no idea what she'd actually been trying to do. And she could at least take responsibility for her imitators, and deal with whatever else she'd unleashed later.

Heh. W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. else.

Kid Killswitch hadn't said anything. She was still looking at Brunhilda. But she nodded and followed along with everyone else.

Brunhilda took a battery from Super Scary Dazzle Bird and wired it into her gauntlets, extending the killfile to cover all of them. They snuck past the cops, Robot Girl and Action Lad keeping their eyes on the perimeter in case someone caught a glimpse.

There were a couple of muscly dudes in gold-and-blue suits standing next to the entrance. Kid Kindle reached out, a lance of emotional fire shooting out and hitting one of them in the back; nostalgia and guilt flared in Brunhilda's chest at the display of power.

The goon straightened up from his slumped position and pushed the other one roughly. "Hey, wake up! I don't wanna lose my paycheck because of you!"

Another blast of energizing anger, and the other goon pushed back. "Shut up! You're the one who said this was gonna be an easy job, and now there's ten thousand cops out there and we're probably gonna be left holding the bag!"

"You shut up! God, I should never have dated you!" The one goon slapped the other goon, and the other goon slapped back, and they grabbed each other and started rolling on the ground, passionately making out, and Brunhilda and the Ultimate Saviors snuck inside.

Down a small, lightless corridor, and down to the elevator. Robot Girl leaned in, removing the panel and sticking her fingers in among the wires. She stretched out her hand and a screen appeared showing datastreams zipping back and forth; Kid Killswitch and Super Scary Dazzle Bird leaned in to analyze it. Action Lad and Kid Kindle spread out, keeping watch.

Kid E bounced in place, watching his charges figure out the puzzle. Brunhilda leaned back on the wall next to him, watching them as well, especially the one who was-and-wasn't her. "They have a heck of a lot of personality, for people who came out of a vat not long ago."

Kid E nodded enthusiastically! "They're not just regular clones, they're biotropic duplicates! W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. stole the device that Sig.Lad used to copy people's power signatures and used it to template them as they were growing? They even lured a Salamander[*] in to possess Kid Kindle! But we stole the device back and now Action Lad's using it!"

[* Also known as Ifrits, Salamanders are the fiery elemental offspring of the Flamebroiled Force which possessed and empowered Flamebroiled Lad! - Ed.(UE)]

"Ahhh." Brunhilda ran the tip of her tongue over her lip. "So... their personalities are clones too?"

"Sort of." Kid E wiggled his hand. "They're definitely their own people, tho - I knew the originals, and these guys aren't making the same choices they would've."

"Mmmm..." Brunhilda breathed in deep, let it out. "That's good, that's real good..."

"All right." Super Scary Dazzle Bird stood up and turned to them, all business. (God, that name. Not that it was any sillier than Chromium Age Very-Scary-Disturbed-Creature Man.) "We've hacked the elevator so that it'll take us to the top without triggering alarm system notifications. But to do that, it has to go slow - it'll take us fifteen minutes to get up there."

"We only have, like, twenty minutes left before the deadline!" Kid Kindle brought his fists against his chest, eyes wide in passion and fear. "What if she actually brings back the Killfile!?"

"She won't." Brunhilda straightened up, squaring her shoulders. "As you can probably tell, I have, uh, some experience with killfile tech." She gestured at the ceiling. "That machine she's got is advanced, but there's no way it could project a subject-based killfile broad enough to cover Ohio, let alone the world." You'd need a much bigger power source, and the one she'd used... wasn't available. As far as she knew.

"Could still do some damage, though," remarked Kid Killswitch, looking up at her.

Aw, baby's first words... Brunhilda regretted the sarcastic thought immediately. "Oh yeah, and how. Killfiles can mess with all sorts of important shit. She could take Cleveland down hard, and her next blackmail scheme would seem all the more real."

"So we'd better hurry." MechaKat closed her hand, the screen disappeared, and the door of the elevator opened. They all shuffled in, and silently, it began to rise. In the background, a jazzy instrumental version of "Mad World" started playing.

"Right," said Action Lad. "Ultimate Saviors... waiting mode!!"

Brunhilda watched as all five of them sat down and immediately pulled Magic: The Gathering decks out of somewhere in their costumes, shuffling up with practiced speed. "Turn one, mountain, lighting bolt Action Lad." "Why me!?" "Because we don't have time for one of your weird blue shapeshifter decks!" "Awww..."

Kid Enthusiastic leaned back against the wall next to her. "So~"

"...so?"

"Feels like you've got some more questions in you! And we've got time."

The side of Brunhilda's mouth turned down at his easy poke at her boundaries... but it wasn't like she didn't have a thousand and one questions, bubbling and burning in her belly, about this new world she'd found herself one of the creators of. And the most burning of them all... "Well... you were around back then, right? What was the Killfile like?"

"Oh man. It mega sucked," Kid Enthusiastic chirped. "I mean, life was kind of normal, but the kind of normal where you're working a crappy job and it's gray and depressing outside, you know?"

"...oh." It felt like cold water had been thrown in her face. The boxes that she'd put her feelings in earlier burst open, flooding her system with complicated griefs.

"Like," continued Kid E, not noticing her face's fall, "there were so many bad guys and even though they couldn't build Kill-O-Rays or send robot goons at you, they could still just keep making things worse all the time." He hummed, looking off into the distance in appreciation. "Even though things really suck right now, people are really fighting, too. Back then, it seemed like hardly any of us could fight - or could even see there was anything worth fighting!"

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. That was... that was...

Brunhilda Ampulle had been just another kid kicking around the foster care system, just kind of existing, and then she looked up and someone had reached out a hand and she'd taken it. And she'd become a net.hero because that hand had belonged to a net hero.

But that was only why she'd started doing it. She'd kept doing it because she could just reach out and help people, right in front of her. And she'd done that for a while and she wasn't just existing, she was living, and she was... getting better, most days.

And eventually she'd gotten better enough to where she could lift her head up, and look out at the world... and see that, actually, there were a lot more awful things going on out there, outside her city and her team, than she had realized. Things she couldn't just reach out and affect. Things none of the net.heroes seemed to be able to affect, even the stupidly powerful ones who Kept Watch Over The World. But those net.heroes kept going, kept getting into big splashy fights over things that seemed so small, and those faraway troubles just kept getting better, just kept getting closer. And then...

Look, people died all the time, she knew that, you fought guys with guns and that happened. But this hadn't been in a fight, and it hadn't been someone who signed up for it, and... it was so unnecessary, so meaningless, and Alice wasn't even... She was nice and kind and good and people like that weren't even supposed to...

Well. So she left. She left, and one of her little theoretical ideas turned into a big not-so-theoretical idea, and... and she became one of those troubles, and...

"It wasn't all bad, tho."

"--oh!?" Brunhilda jerked out of her reverie, hardly even caring that the Ultimate Saviors had all looked up at her half-squeaked exclamation. She settled back, and they returned to their game.

"Yeah, like..." Kid Enthusiastic rubbed his chin, teasing out a complex emotion. "I feel like... After the Killfile, people appreciated us more. No, like, not just us, the whole... the whole idea." He put his hands out, squeezing something invisible. "Even when the government was trying to control us and there were a lot of people pushing against us, there were so many people who, it seemed like... had woken up after decades, maybe their whole lives, and realized that actually fighting evil is good?"

"I..." She closed her mouth, a little puff of breath escaping out her nose. That answer was... frustrating. Not exactly the positive impact she'd wanted from her efforts - "people suffered so much that they realized they had to give a shit".

...on the other hand... maybe that was the best outcome she could've hoped for...

She rested her head against the wall of the elevator and listened to the soft rumbling as it moved. Even before Alice... did it, Brunhilda had realized that there was something wrong with the world. A huge, low-level grossness, an apathy, spreading over it. She remembered seeing cartoons about Saving the Planet, and thinking they were lame, and then realizing that no, this was a real problem that kept getting worse as people kept laughing at it. She heard how stupid that woman who spilled coffee on herself was, and came to understand that the "joke" was that someone would want to get money and apology from a trillion-dollar corporation that just kept growing and growing and taking and taking, and how foolish and lazy that was. She saw that bombs were being lobbed every day straight into schools full of little kids who weren't white and weren't Christian and the generals shrugged and said "oops, accident" and it just kept going on in the background and everyone was grumbling about it but no one was shouting, no one really and truly cared and...

And it had to be someone's fault. It hadn't always been like this, someone had caused this, but who was powerful enough to change the entire world like that?

And she looked around herself and realized: It was us. The net.heroes, the net.villains. They were powerful and everyone looked up to them, the celebrities and heroes of the world.

And the more she looked for it, the more she saw it. Their, our, weird self-obsession, our attachment to their own battles, and especially, the way that, whenever we tried to confront wars and environmental damage and real suffering, it never produced a solution that stuck. Even the Saviors, even Sig.Lad, only ever put band-aids on the problems.

And then... Look, sometimes you stretched out your hand to someone and they were in too bad of a place to take it. She knew that, she'd always known that, but when... When you got someone out of a burning building, especially when you sat and talked with them, and they turned out to be really cool, and nice, and maybe were going to join your game group, and said "I'll be okay", they weren't... Alice wasn't just supposed to... if you saved their life they didn't have the right to...

With effort she pulled herself out of that loop and glanced at Kid Enthusiastic. He gave her a cheery smile, then turned away, seeming to sense that she was done talking for now. She wouldn't have chalked him up for that kind of social awareness, but it was already clear he had a lot going on under the facade...

The music kept playing, a weird, jazzy loop, and as she watched the teen she had once been play, she slipped back into her memories...

So she'd taken a leave of absence from the Saviors.

...so she'd had an enormous screaming crying argument with the Saviors and left. And after she'd parked herself in a cheap hotel and cried everything out, she had made some plans.

She'd used the Saviors' wages she'd saved up and the modest royalties from her patents to buy a workshop in Clearwater Hill, one of Net.ropolis's poorest neighborhoods. And she set about working in the solution. The Killfile Device.

She'd been thinking of it as something she could present to the smart, reasonable heroes, talk it over and use it as a tool to scrape the worst bits out of net.humanity before it was too late. A decision she wouldn't have to make alone.

But... a few months in, people had noticed she wasn't with the Saviors anymore. Action Bimonthly, a mid-level magazine about net.hero goings-on, contacted her for an interview. And she was so excited, she could tell people - no, not all the details, but what she'd noticed, her goals, and get the message out, and there would be like-minded people who would come to her and they could work together...

And the interview came out and... nobody seemed to notice? Nobody came out of the woodwork to join in her cause? She didn't hear anything?

No, it had been worse than that, because she had certainly heard things when she read the letters to the editor in Action. How people like her were making a fuss, distracting from the real issues, making the people who were actually trying to fix things look bad.

So she didn't take any more interviews after that. She just worked. She had already started and she couldn't stop now and she didn't think about what would happen when she was done.

But there was one thing she couldn't figure out, one thing she'd been hoping to get help with from somebody - a power source.

And a little voice was whispering in her head. Quietly at first, and she pushed it away and kept working, but louder and louder as she went deeper and deeper into single-minded focus. The net.heroes caused this problem. The net.heroes had the power.

Killfile Energy filtered, separated. She could separate the power from those who had it, use their own wasted might that had tried and failed so many times to save the world, to finally save it once and for all.

She built a power-channeling device. Just to test the idea. And if she found someone who wanted to help and had the power she could use it for that, right?

And the day came when every part of the device was done and there weren't any more tweaks left to make, and there weren't any more tests to be run, and she had to stop and face the prospect of actually using it.

By this time, the obsessive thoughts were a constant background pounding. She had to show them. She had to stop them. Before it was too late. It was almost too late. Something awful was going to rush up at any second, some net.hero with too much power was going to make a mistake, and smash the world flat, and it would be her fault. But it was okay. She had the machine, and she could use it and fix things, save the world...

And she knew how she could get the power.

She knew how to bring net.heroes running. Net.heroes with the power to feel her machine. And part of her knew just which heroes it would end up being. Part of her begged her not to. She broke down into crying fits, finally telling herself that she would just talk to them first, that they'd have to hear her out when she had this power at her back.

She cleaned herself up. She put on that costume. She activated her stealth killfiles. She walked straight into the big national news studio with no one seeing, put every living soul who could stop her in a half-hour killfile bubble, put the cameras on her and sent out her message.

This time she wasn't able to hold it back like she did in the interview. She told the world what was wrong with it and why; how the net.heroes had gone too far, and not knowing or understanding, had betrayed the rest of humanity. She announced her plan to clear them away and let the world heal. And she told them where to find her. Then she turned her killfiles back on and walked away.

And of course when she got to the workshop the Saviors were there already and of course they would have seen her coming in and of course there was no time to talk, right, it wasn't that she was striking the first blow because she knew in her heart that if she said what she meant she would be rejected again, of course not of course not

Even though Sig.Lad was already trying to reach out as she pushed them back with a killfile shell, even though Lurking Girl broke her solitude to ask why, even though she could see the bitter sadness in MechaKat's eyes

And the only one strong enough to break thru her shells burst in, as she knew he would, knocking her back against the machine, Felix, her stupid little brother fighting her again, she'd never told him she thought of him like that, he was yelling at her about how she was betraying them all, and she yelled at him about how he didn't understand because he only cared about fake shit like anime and being a hero

And she pulled the lever

And the killfile activated, splitting him in two, Felix Landers and the Flamebroiled Force, never to be reunited, discarding the one and sending the other into the machine, straight thru her

All the rage, all the fear, all the resentment, all the secret impossible buried hope, channeled straight thru her body and mind and into her machine and she felt it unfold, the dampening blanket enfolding the world

And in the distance, a glint of metal, Sig.Lad raised his sword, and somehow she could see his eyes, great and sad and knowing it was over, and summoning his own death, because the wielder of Excalibur could only have one end, opening the gate to the fairy world to sleep forever, and time slowing down and slipping away

and she'd been right some net.hero with too much power made a mistake and smashed the world flat and it was her that's what she was that's what she'd done it was her fault she wasn't a hero she'd never been a hero that's why Captain Killfile was the worst net.villain ever

"Hey... are you okay?"

Brunhilda jerked back to reality. Without realizing it, she'd slumped to the ground, legs folded up against her. Kid Enthusiastic and the Ultimate Saviors were gathered around her, looking down with concern and/or worry. Her head and face were tingling, and she reached up with a shaking hand to touch her face... yes, it was covered in tears.

"I..." She swallowed thickly, trying to find words, but all that came to mind was... the Killfile wasn't set with an ending date. It could have lasted for centuries. Somehow, the Saviors had stopped that but... it could have been so much worse and it was all her fault...

Wait, something was wrong, other than everything...

"The music stopped," she said.

Everyone's head turned. With a click, the doors began to open...

Kid Killswitch grabbed Brunhilda's wrist, grabbed the loose wire and touched it to the battery. The stealth killfile spread out to cover them.

The doors slid open. The guards stationed on either side of the elevator peered inside. Everyone held their breath...

The guards looked at each other, shrugged, and settled back in place. The door slowly closed. Everyone breathed out.

Robot Girl leaned in and slapped her hand on the button panel. "Keeping the door closed, keeping us in place."

"Right. Everybody, put your fingers in your ears and go la-la-la," said Kid Killswitch.

"...why!?" said Super Scary Dazzle Bird, throwing his hands in the air. "This isn't the kind of--"

"Just do it, nerd!" Kid Killswitch rolled her eyes.

Kid Kindle turned. "Kid E, what do you--"

"La la la la-- were we not supposed to yet?"

Super Scary Dazzle Bird sighed. "Okay, okay, fine... la la la la..."

"I gotta keep my hand here," said Robot Girl, "but I'll turn off my audio inputs, okay?"

"Sure yeah whatever." Kid Killswitch waited until everyone was la-la-la-ing, and turned to Brunhilda. "Okay. Get up, Captain Killfile."

"I..." She took in a shuddering breath, let it out. Too late to deny it and she didn't have the composure anyway. She didn't even feel as shocked as she should. "How?"

Kid Killswitch rolled her eyes again. "We know who we're supposed to be. You think I don't know that face from splashing cold water on it at three in the morning, wondering when I would start feeling the urge to Go Bad?"

"...fuck..." The guilt stabbed right back into her brain. "sorry."

"Look--" Kid Killswitch shook her head and made a pushing-it-away motion. "Don't worry about it. I don't think there's anybody who didn't get their parents' anxieties. Maybe Kid E. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to say and we don't have much time." She ran her hand thru her hair, looking off to the side. "I read that interview. I wanted to know who you were and why you did it and I dug that up and... it made sense."

Brunhilda blinked, a bit of the haze of grief and guilt lifting, replaced by intrigued confusion. "...seriously?" She actually found a copy after twenty years? How-- wait, it made sense?

"Yeah. Like, I dunno if I agree with you twenty years on, but like, you were clearly not crazy, you clearly had a good goal in mind, you were clearly tryin'a help." She grinned that same always-a-bit-smug grin. "After I read it I didn't have quite as many nightmares."

"...wow." The huge weight hanging on Brunhilda's nerves and bones started to rise off a bit. "Y'know, you're the first one who's ever said that?"

"Not surprised. Controversial shit, and you were shooting it into the void. You didn't have anybody to talk over ideas with, did ya?"

"I mean..." She sighed. "The Saviors, but..."

"Yeah. They didn't get it." She looked over her shoulder, at everyone going 'la la la'. "It's different with these nerds. They support my stupid ideas, even if they give me shit for them. And I support theirs, even if they're morons half the time."

"Yeah..." Brunhilda was... jealous and happy at the same time. Today was just a smorgasbord of new emotions, huh. "You don't have to be like me."

"Hey, look." Kid Killswitch stuck her finger in Brunhilda's face. Jeez, she couldn't have been this rude, right? "My point is? I want to be like you."

"...kid." Brunhilda squinted in disbelief. "Thanks for being nice to the crazy lady, but. I just broke down crying because I fucked up the world so bad."

"EXACTLY, crazy lady!" Kid Killswitch gesticulated passionately. "You fucked up and you know it and now you're gonna try and fix it, right?"

"..." Flashes of what she'd done - the blanket, formed from her own resentment and pain wrapping around the world. "I don't think I can..." But under that pain... that purpose. To be the hand that reached out. "But... fuck it. Whatever I can do, I'll do." She breathed out, and a little more of that awful weight floated away. "That's who I am now. Someone who makes up for the Killfile."

"Right." Kid Killswitch nodded firmly. "That's who I want to be. Someone who makes mistakes and makes up for it and keeps going." She looked Brunhilda in the eye. "A hero."

Brunhilda sucked in her breath. "Damn. How are you this smart when you just came out of a tube?"

Kid Killswitch giggled, with that bit of familiar bubbly snottiness. She'd missed feeling that way. "I got it from you, bozo. I literally have your brain."

"Right." Brunhilda shook herself out, ran her hands thru her hair. "Well... thanks."

Kid Killswitch snerked. "Don't thank me, I'm being selfish. The others get to be clones of heroes, why shouldn't I?" She reached out a hand. "C'mon. Get up... Ghost Exterminator."

Brunhilda grinned and took the hand, pulling herself up. She still didn't feel like a good person, exactly. But hell. She didn't have to be, to be a hero.

Kid Killswitch tapped Kid E on the shoulder, and they got the others to stop la-la-la-ing while Brunhilda smoothed herself out. Super Scary Dazzle Bird fluffed out his cape irritably. "So what was that about?"

"Simple. Remember when Kid E told us about secret weaknesses, like Captain Minority being vulnerable to artificial vanilla flavor?" Kid Killswitch gestured to Brunhilda. "Well, Ghosty here just got hit with her secret weakness, and I figured out what it was and helped her out."

"'Cause you're so smart," grinned Kid Kindle, and held out his fist.

"'Cause I'm so smart!" grinned Kid Killswitch, and bumped it.

"And you didn't wanna expose the secret to everybody!" Kid Enthusiastic pumped his fists. "Good job!"

"Yeah, nice, there's problems," said Robot Girl, hand still on the panel. "The mayor gave in and there's a chopper that's gonna set down on the roof in like two minutes with the money."

"I mean, better for her to get away with the money than for people to get hurt," said Action Lad.

"Yeah," said Brunhilda, cracking her knuckles. "But even better to kick her ass."

"Just tell me when," said Robot Girl.

"Everybody!" called out Kid Enthusiastic gleefully, even though they were all literally right there. "Cool team pose!"

"Come on," groused Kid Killswitch, but she was grinning. She and Kid Kindle lined up on one side of Kid Enthusiastic, Super Scary Dazzle Bird and Action Lad on the other, forming a V. Brunhilda got over on the left side of the door, mirroring Robot Girl on the left. All seven of them got into action stances, and Robot Girl took her hand off the door.

With a ding, the door opened. One of the goons was kneeling down, whistling, examining the mechanism. She looked up, still whistling...

And Robot Girl's metal fist plowed into her chin, knocking her back and away.

The other goon straightened up, going for the ray gun at her side. "Ey, it's some kinda ghost!"

"More like a Ghost Exterminator!" Brunhilda's gauntleted knuckles impacted the goon's stomach. The banter was comforting.

"Oofda!" She went down too, and Super Scary Dazzle Bird and Kid Killswitch grabbed the dropped ray guns. The seven net.heroes ran down the hall and Action Lad kicked the door in.

The fake Captain Killfile was gloating at the cameras, as her goons moved her machine onto a dolly. "Thank you for your service, Cleveland! You've got a lovely city here - hope it stays that way, haha!"

Kid Killswitch lifted the ray gun she'd grabbed, aimed, fired it at the impostor... only for the beam to fade into nothing before it hit her!

"Shit!" said Brunhilda. "She's got a personal defense killfile!"

"Ha-hah!" the impostor crowed, turning to face them, pumping her fist in glee. "We have guests! Blacklisters, activate the Killfile Killfile!"

One of the goons hit a switch on the big machine, and Brunhilda felt a soft wave of dampening energy roll over the room - dropping the Killfile that kept them hidden.

"Looks like we're doing this the hard way, guys!" Kid Enthusiastic leapt into the fray, and the team followed in his wake of morale.

She turned to the camera and gave it a wink. "Now the whole city will see the true might of the legendary-- Captain Killfile!!"

Of course she had to keep saying that, grumbled Brunhilda. And now "killfile" didn't sound like a word anymore.

Robot Girl lashed out with metal claws, slicing ray guns in two. "You have a team name for your minions? That's way too retro, lady."

"I dunno, though." Action Lad took the hilt from the scabbard he wore, and pulled out an enormous pen with a sword-like hilt and a glowing blue tip. He inscribed a name in the air, writing "Linguini Lass" with liquid light, in loopy, flowing cursive. "I'd say it's so retro it's cool again." He pulled the pen away, and the looping script flowed into his body, outlining him in neon blue. His limbs stretched out, noodle-like, to entangle the goons.

Kid Kindle shot empowering energy into the bodies of his teammates. "Yeah! I'm glad we got a net.villain with some style!"

Robot Girl knocked two goons' heads together and sighed. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say."

Brunhilda scooted sideways in the fray. "Hey," she murmured to Kid Killswitch, "I got an idea."

"I'm listening..."

Super Scary Dazzle Bird was attempting more shots at the impostor, reasoning that if the Killfile Killfile had killfiled their killfile, then her own killfile must also be killfiled. (And now "killfile" *really* didn't look like a word anymore.) Unfortunately, said impostor had made it over to the Kill-O-Ray, which seemed to be protected by a non-killfile-based forcefield, and was flipping switches and cackling.

Brunhilda stepped directly in front of the cameras. She summoned all the performative net.hero drama she was capable of, and pointed dramatically at the impostor with her right hand, bare now, her index finger aligned perfectly with her target. "Stop right there! I know you're not the real Captain Killfile!"

The impostor's body stiffened, and she spun around, her manic grin a bit stiffer and less real than it had been a moment ago. "Hah!" She straightened, tossing her arm so that her sparkly cape billowed dramatically. "And why would you make such a foolish proclamation? Some kind of net.hero trickery?"

"No." The heavy weight of grief and guilt was laying against Brunhilda's chest. But she knew, now. She'd let guilt fester in her, guilt over not being the one to fix the world all by herself, and it had lead to a lot of terrible things. You were supposed to share the weight of the world, because it belonged to everybody; you weren't supposed to hold it up alone until it crushed you and everybody else in the process. She didn't need to be the one to solve everything. She just needed to let out the knowledge, the feelings, she was holding inside - spread them to the world, as far as she could, and let everyone know the truth.

"It's because..." Brunhilda pulled down her hood, and looked up at the impostor. "Because my name is Brunhilda Ampulle. And I..." She looked directly into the camera. "I was Captain Killfile."

Everything was quiet for a moment.

"...wait, what!?" shouted Kid Kindle, before dodging yet another kick by a Blacklister.

"You..." the impostor's eyes narrowed. She ripped the gaudy cape and hood off, tossing it on the floor. From her belt she pulled a metal tube and hit a button on it, and out popped a blade of searing gray-white nothingness that hurt the eyes to look at - coherent Killfile Energy. "It's YOUR FAULT!"

Action Lad undropped his jaw. "G-- C-- Ghost Exterminator, catch!" He tossed his pen-sword thru the air.

Brunhilda caught it as it came down, just in time to block the impostor's blade. "Yeah, it was. All my fault." She danced back, parried, thrusted. "What's your story?"

"Jessica Blackstone, heiress to the scientific traditions of Patricia Blackstone!" Jessica dodged the thrust, going in with big, wild slashes - not as wild as they seemed, though, and Brunhilda had to twist and counter with expert timing. "I was eleven when the Killfile went up! My mother had been an expert in the field of killfile weapons research! Courted by governments, showered in grant money, treated like a queen! And I, her princess! We had money and wealth! And then it all went away!"

"Gotcha. This is a revenge story." Brunhilda's attention was focused. She didn't think about the plan going off in the background, just on the woman in front of her. Keep her talking. Keep her fighting. "So what happened?"

"Hah, as if you didn't know!" The two blades, energy and narrative, locked against each other, and the two fighters were face to face. Jessica shouted in Brunhilda's face, little flecks of spittle flying - ew. "With the great Killfile up, killfile technology lost much of its power, for it's difficult to put a killfile over a killfile! My mother knew that problem could be cracked, but the powers that were did not care! We lost our prestige, our wealth! I had to go to public school!"

"...right. And then?" Brunhilda pushed back and fell into a defensive position, her back to the machine. She's ranting now, let it happen, no matter how dumb it is.

"And then the Killfile fell, and I dedicated my life to cracking the problem! I became the world's preeminent specialist in Killfile Energy! And I swore I would use the position to take back the wealth and power that you had denied me!" She was far too angry at Brunhilda to attack her now, glaring, yelling, wanting her to hear every word. "I'm greater than you ever were! Stronger! Smarter!"

Kid Killswitch stepped forward, on Brunhilda's left. "Hey, bitch," she called to what's-her-name. "If you're so smart, do you know what happens when you bring together two rapidly fluctuating opposite-polarity killfiles?"

"...yeah," said Jessica, looking at Kid Killswitch like she was an idiot for asking. "You create a standing watchlist wave that destroys... destroys any killfiles--"

She jumped towards them but it was too late. Kid Killswitch lifted the right-hand gauntlet that Brunhilda had given her, the one she'd spent the fight rewiring to the opposite polarity and setting to fluctuate. Brunhilda lifted her left-hand gauntlet, still radiating Killfile Energy, and slammed them together.

A sphere of un-energy burst from the point of contact, knocking them apart, knocking back the impostor, knocking down the Blacklisters and the Ultimate Saviors. The room shone, dazzling and bright, everything standing out against everything else. The Kill-O-Ray sparked and smoked, and with a pop! an apple reappeared.

Everything was quiet for a few moments. Then Kid Killswitch pulled herself up in front of the cameras. "Hey, folks... hope you enjoyed. City is safe, Captain Killfile is no more, and..." She thumped her chest. "You can call me Captain Killfile now." She clicked off the camera and sighed. "That feels good."

Kid Enthusiastic hopped up next, running across the room. "OMG good job!" He pulled out a glob of green goo and used it to stick Jessica's hands together and stick her to a pillar.

"...hey..." Jessica muttered, woozily.

He tossed another glob of goo between his hands, watching Brunhilda as she pulled herself up. "Don't suppose I need to stick you in place for the cops too~"

Brunhilda shook her head. "Think you probably guessed that I'm not gonna be fighting heroes anytime soon."

He giggled, but his eyes were a bit more serious, looking her up and down. "Yeah... I don't think you are." He put the goo away. "But what are you gonna be doing?"

"Better question, what are we gonna be doing," said Super Scary Dazzle Bird, dusting off his cape. "What happened to keeping a low profile?"

"That's net.heroing," said Action Lad. "This was gonna be big one way or another. Can I have that back?" He nodded to the pen-sword.

"Oh, sure." Brunhilda handed it back.

"Wait wait wait wait wait," said Kid Kindle, popping up. "Are we just gonna ignore that she just confessed to being Captain Killfile?" He turned to Kid Kill-- nope, she was Captain Killfile now. "Why do you want the name?"

Captain Killfille grinned. "Right of conquest. Claiming my heritage. And maybe I just wanna shock the norms."

Brunhilda grinned. "Hey, I'm not using it."

Action Lad grinned. "I guess this really was... the return of Captain Killfile."

Robot Girl covered her face. "Why."

Action Lad shrugged exaggeratedly~ "I've decided to lean into dad jokes."

"Seriously, tho," said Kid Enthusiastic, bouncing in place. "What's your plans? You're pretty clearly messed up, twenty years out of time by the look of it-- you gotta tell me how that happened-- and you probably don't have anywhere to go."

Brunhilda rubbed her face. "Yeah, you're right. And I gotta.." She closed her eyes, and felt the pain suddenly well up again, felt a tear threatening to form in the corner of her eye. The weight wasn't gone just 'cause she'd done one thing. But it didn't hurt quite as much.

"Actually..." She rubbed her eyes. "I think I was wrong, before. I think I definitely need to be taken into custody." She looked over the six of them. "But the 2019 cops sound like they suck. So how about y'all taking me in until you can remand me to that net.hero team you've been trying to contact?"

"...oh, good idea," said Action Lad, doing his post-battle stretches.

"I suppose that's the safest option," harrumphed Super Scary Dazzle Bird, crossing his arms.

Robot Girl rolled her eyes. "I guess--"

"WAIT WAIT WAIT." Kid Kindle skidded in front of Brunhilda, waving his hands at the rest of them. "You're really saying that we literally take in the biggest bad guy of all time!? Right after-- ALL THAT!?"

Captain Killfile stepped forward. "Dude." She looked put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "I trust her."

"..." He siiiiiiiighed dramatically, flopping his head back and rolling his eyes. "Fiiiiiiine. I guess somebody's gotta keep an eye on her."

"Welp, that's settled!" Kid E clapped his hands. "Now... let's scram already, the cops will be here soon!"

"Right!" The Ultimate Saviors clattered down the hallway, but Kid Enthusiastic took Brunhilda's arm before she could follow.

"By the way," he said. "Hildy. If it's okay to call you that."

"Heh... you can call me anything you want, now, I guess," she said. "What is it?"

"Just wanted to let you know. Felix?" He smiled big up at her. "He's the leader of the LNH!"

One more burst of cold surprise for the evening. "...ah heck." She'd have to face him, eventually. She'd have to apologize... She could feel the tears welling up again, and quickly rubbed her eyes. He'd survived. He... her brother was okay. "Always... always knew he'd make somethin' of himself."

"Yeah." He smiled up at her, and took her hand. "Let's go, Ghost Exterminator."

And they walked off into the chill winter night.

#Original Fiction #Superheroes #Adventure #Drama #Legion of Net.Heroes #LNH20 #LNH20 Comics Presents

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masseffecthoe · 5 years

Text

Soul Glitches

Chapter 1

A/N: So I’ve been playing Mass Effect and I guess you’ve seen James Vega and his muscles since you’re here... yeah, so this is the result :))

Writing this for fun, maybe a little rough around the edges and lightly unedited :)) Just so we’re clear, it’s a James x non Shepard OC.

Warnings: none i think... yet

I like making collages, sue me!

Jun sat in a dark corner of the hallway, right leg bouncing rapidly for the past half hour. Shepard's hearing was being delayed and it couldn't mean anything good. Officers were rushing in and out of the main chamber, each wearing a perfect mask of calmness on their faces, but the hurried steps and careful whispers were a clear indication something was up. But there was no way in hell they were going to actually charge the commander with anything, right? After all, they were saved, once more, because of her.

She thought back on the last mission, the one that all thought was going to be a one way trip through the Omega 4 relay and cold shiver ran through her spine. Maybe they were pushing their luck a little, but facts were facts and all of them painted Shepard as a god dammed hero. She was bought out of her momentary trance when a ruckus came down the hall. Soon enough she spotted the commander, her confident stride making the lower ranked officers part out of her way. Getting up from her spot in the shadows she joined the other woman in her march towards the hearing, completely ignoring the marine in her tow.

"Something's up, Shepard."

"Any idea what?"

"No. Whatever it is, they're keeping it tight." They paused and shared a look. Something was brewing in Shepard's mind; you could almost see the cogs running in overtime. Jun was about to ask what was the plain if things went south when the heavy doors slid open revealing none other than Kaidan Alenko. Now, she didn't have anything against the lieutenant per se, but he could be such an ass. She knew for a fact the commander was head over heels for the guy and she just couldn't see why… First human specter, war hero and the best damn leader she served under and the woman chose that chump…

She sighed, spacing out their entire conversation, pondering on love and its apparent unique ability to make even the greatest people dumb. When Anderson came and escorted the commander, she gave Jun one last look and she nodded: she'd be waiting right there, ready to bust them out if needed. If the Alliance refused to see the reapers as a real and imminent threat they'd find help somewhere else.

"You know the commander?

"I used to." Jun scoffed a little too loudly, making the two men turned towards her with questioning looks.

"You're such a moron, I swear…"

"Good to see you again, Jun."

"If only it were mutual."

"Look, I'm so-"

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, you dimwit." Kaidan gaze fell to the ground, shaking his head.

"I get it you two know each other."

"Unfortunately." She eyed the recently promoted major with all the disgust she could muster until Kaidan let out a defeated sigh and went on his merry way. She told herself again that she did not truly hate the guy, but it was getting harder and harder not to. As strong as Shepard was, his mistrust in her had left a mark no matter how hard she denied it. Shaking her head to get Alenko out of her mind, she turned towards the marine and extended her hand towards him.

"I'm sorry for that, he just really gets on my nerves. I'm Jun Saros." He shook her hand with a steady grip and she couldn't help notice the veins along his forearm. Damn he was bulky.

"Lieutenant James Vega. You two got history?"

"God no! He's just the biggest drama queen when you least expect it." He eyed her up and down, a smirk forming in the corner of his lips. Damn that scar was sexy.

"His loss." Jun was taken aback by the comment, but found herself smiling nevertheless. With all that had transpired in the past years, her accident, Cerberus, the Collectors, she found his little quip refreshing. A dip in normality. When was the last time she just chatted with someone without looming threats over their shoulder?

She raised an eyebrow, lips parted to give him a comeback, but her words were drowned down by an explosion. The ground shook violently, windows clattering and breaking. Outside, massive shadows were landing in the distance, red lasers shooting in every direction. Jun turned to reach the hearing room, but was interrupted when an entire section of the wall collapsed, blocking the door. She was grabbed by her shoulder non too gently by James and pulled along further down the corridor as alarms started going off and people dashed towards safety. She tried the com link as she barely kept up with the marine's pace.

"Shepard?"

"Jun, Anderson and I are cut off the main exit. Head towards the landing zone and meet us at the Normandy."

"Understood." She looked one more at the reaper just outside the city lines and cursed under her breath. They were nowhere near prepared for this! "Vega, we need to get to the Normandy."

The man nodded and took a sharp left making Jun almost loose her balance when she spun at the last second. If the building wasn't collapsing behind them she would have laughed at the silliness of it. James led them towards the exit, or better said to what was once the exit. A metal plaque cut through the doorway, wires spiking with electricity dangling from the sides. She took her omni-tool and cast a shield around them, giving the marine a curt nod before heading outside.

To say the city was in shambles would have been the understatement of the century. Barely any buildings stood unscathed, shuttles were evacuating civilians as military airships were going headfirst towards the reaper forces. She didn't have much time to register everything as James took off, jumping on a railing and turning towards her, hand outstretched.

"Come on!" Purposefully avoiding to look closer at the unstable looking path he'd chosen, Jun took his hand reluctantly. They were sitting ducks there, but the open space and the reaper in the distance made her stomach turn.

"How much further?"

"Are you scared of heights, princess?"

"Less of heights, more of giant lasers and being burned alive, you know?" He might have chuckled, but it was hard for her to tell between the explosions, alarms and people screaming. She turned towards a group of officers trying to pry off a metal chunk of a colleague's leg. The decision was made in a split second.

"We're almost ther- what are you doing?" She jumped down on the level below, preparing her onmi-tool and kneeling down besides the man.

"This should stop the bleeding, but you should still get him checked…" The words died in her throat. In all this madness there was little hope they would manage to get him a doctor anytime soon. The soldiers seemed to acknowledge this as well.

"Thank you ma'am. This will give him some more time." They hauled the poor unconscious guy over their shoulders and ducked for cover as a laser was shot towards them. It felt like she was hit by a train when James rolled them behind a sturdy looking column, the air leaving her lungs. She grasped his arms for support as she desperately tried to get some oxygen back in.

"Sorry…" James took in her form once more. She was lean, but nowhere near in military shape, her hands delicate on his rough skin. He felt bad for manhandling her, yet couldn't help wonder how she got mixed in on the Normandy's crew. He remembered her name in the reports, but couldn't recall if there was any mentions of her training.

"No, n-"The words stuck in her throat and she coughed a bit more before regaining a steady breathing, her grip loosening. "Thank you. Beats being burned alive."

"Right, let's get moving." He could have gotten to the ship already if he were on his own, he wanted to get to the action and blast those sons of bitches off their planet as quickly as possible. But he couldn't leave Shepard's little friend behind. The commander and Anderson seemed to trust her.

The Normandy came into view and they made a run for it. He jumped on the air lock and turned to help the woman, but she was already midair, a little drone pushing at her back. She dusted off when she landed besides him and raised an eyebrow at the look she was giving him.

"What? I'm more capable than I look." She put out her tongue in a child like protest and he wondered again how she survived that suicide mission. Dumb luck was all he could think of. They headed further inside the ship, in hopes Shepard and Anderson would have already gotten there, when a voice sounded through the ship's coms.

"Jun! Good to have you back on the Normandy."

"Joker, I already feel safer." James followed her to the elevator, unsure of the ship's layout. "Are Shepard and Anderson here?"

"We're picking them up now. You should get to the war room, the commander will be there soon."

It didn't take long between the moment they arrived in the room, the ship turning away from Earth, the commander entering, no Anderson in sight, and admiral Hackett's message. He didn't like the situation one bit. Leaving Earth was a coward move, even if the admiral had ordered them to Mars, James was not a part of Shepard's crew, he should have stayed with Anderson and fought for his planet! He was not stupid, he knew they most likely stood no chance without help from the aliens, but his fight was not in the politics of the Citadel, it was on the ground, were his people were being slaughtered. The heavy silence after the admiral's message was finally intercepted by Jun as she got up with a sigh.

"Starboard Observation Deck is MINE this time!"

Chapter 2 >

#soulglitches #james vega #James Vega x reader #james vega x oc #mass effect #mass effect 3

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5sauceprefs · 6 years

Text

CEO (l.h)

CEO Luke congratulates Y/N on her promotion using more than just words.

Words: 2000+

Warnings: lil tiny bit of smut

A/N: I haven’t written anything like this before but it was sooooooooo much fun, hope you love it you beautiful people. Thanks so much for all the love!

Monday morning only really meant meeting one thing: meetings. Every single Monday morning you would sit in the same meeting room, in the same spot, discussing the same topics in relation to the company. It had never really made sense to you. But, as you had literally just been promoted from marketing director to chief communications officer (as of yesterday!), it didn’t really feel right expressing this opinion. Yet. Besides, with the promotion came the new corner office with complete city views so who were you to complain.

Heading into the meeting room, everyone seemed to be there with only two empty seats left. In fact, the seat you usually take was filled with a young, unfamiliar face. So instead, you took the only one left. The seat right across from the big CEO himself, who was yet to make an appearance. As you took your seat, you felt the pit of your stomach drop. This new seat didn’t feel right? Being directly in the view of Luke was nothing short of terrifying. He was cocky, sexy, charming, intimidating and really fucking sexy. But, there was no time to show this. You had a new position in the company and today was your day to show everyone, and maybe even especially Luke, how perfect you were for the new role.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sudden silence of your work colleagues which only meant one thing. Luke was here. Watching as he walked in, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander up and down his tall frame. He was clad in his usual attire; a sleek black suit that was nothing short of perfectly fitting. Today, he wore a navy tie which was a nice change from his usual black. His blonde curls were a little bit messy but still totally sexy. The things you would do to run your hands through those curls, ugh.

“Good morning team, I don’t have anything too exciting to start off with today but I will need to address some changes to procedures to finish up. Okay let’s get started, Mr Clifford, how are the accounts?” Luke said, his eyes not leaving you once despite addressing the entire room.

Aaaannnndddddd cue the point where you zone out.

Every Monday meeting was the same for you, pretend to be paying attention, check out Luke, nod a long as if you totally agree with whatever is being said, take very meaningful notes and repeat.

Looking up from your ‘notes’ and taking a sip of your water, you tried your absolute best to make it look like you weren’t affected by Luke’s heavy stare that was focused on you. But, you could feel the butterflies in your stomach starting to creep up. Making sure you still had Luke’s attention, you slowly moistened your lips with your tongue before biting down on your bottom lip. Watching Luke shift slightly in his chair, you couldn’t help but smirk as he subtly shook his head at you as if to say “don’t”. This was typical of you and Luke though, it’s like you both enjoyed teasing each other a little even if you did find him kind of intimidating. Although, nothing more than a cheeky comment when you passed each other in the office ever came out of it.

Ripping your eyes away from Luke, you turned your attention back to taking your ‘notes’ which was really you just doodling in your diary that was already too full with your daily schedules scribbled over the pages to actually be taking any real notes.

You almost jumped when the vibrating of the phone in your lap pulled you from your thoughts. The strategic placement of your phone, enabled you to view and send text messages in the meeting without anyone catching on.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you read the message that flashed across the screen in front of you and all it had was three words.

Luke Hemmings: Stop teasing, love.

Without even thinking, you quickly typed out your reply and smirked at the look on Luke’s face as you watched him read the text.

Y/N: I don’t know what you’re talking about?

Luke Hemmings: Don’t play games you can’t win, Y/N.

Y/N: Good thing I never lose, Hemmings.

And just like that, this is how your Monday morning meeting that was always exactly the same, was suddenly not so familiar.

Lifting your head up from your phone at the sound of your name being said, you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed seeing as you had no idea who had just said what about you.

“Sorry, I got a text from my mum that was urgent.” You lied, “what was that?” you questioned, hoping that the rest of your colleagues would excuse your absence from the oh so important meeting.

“That’s okay Miss Y/L/N, I was just wondering if you could share the strategies you were hoping to employ in order to better the company as our new chief communications officer.” Luke said smugly, as if he was hoping you hadn’t thought this far ahead. Idiot. You had worked for him for too long to not know that he would spring something like this on you.

“Of course Mr. Hemmings. I have already sat down for an interview with Forbes, discussing the new journey we will be taking with our business. I believe it will be published in their next issue, they’ll be in contact with you for the cover shoot seeing as it will be the cover story. I have also signed three new investors as of 9am this morning, and I have two further interviews with possible investors this afternoon” you said, probably a little too enthusiastically. But, with Luke looking so shocked you couldn’t help yourself. “Oh, I also am currently finalizing a fundraiser that will be held for the community next week.” You finished, after pausing for a cheeky dramatic effect.

Y/N 1, Luke 0.

Sitting back down in your seat, you couldn’t help but smile. You had left Luke speechless and it was way too satisfying.

“Okay, that’s it for today’s meeting. I know it was only short but I’ll see you all next week.” Luke announced abruptly. “Miss Y/L/N, I’d like if you could stay behind please. We need to discuss more about this fundraiser you are currently organized.”

You knew that the organization of the fundraiser had nothing to do with Luke so you were almost 100% sure that you definitely wouldn’t be talking about it. What on earth was he up to?

Waiting for your colleagues to clear out, you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. What was Luke going to talk to you about? Or maybe he did just want to talk about the fundraiser and you were totally looking too far into this. He IS your boss and maybe he just wants to make sure everything is perfect because if one little thing stuffs up; it might tarnish the reputation of his business.

Getting lost in your thoughts, the sudden slam of the meeting room door startled you. Looking up from your handbag that you had been packing your things into, you couldn’t help but notice that Luke had twisted the small lock on the door to prevent people entering.

Before you could even register what was happening, Luke had lifted you up out of the chair you had been sitting in and placed you up on the desk. Using his hand to spread your legs slightly, he placed himself so he was standing in between them.

“So princess, I haven’t really gotten the chance to congratulate you on your promotion yet.” He smirked, placing one hand either side of you against the disk so that he was level with you rather than looking down at you.

Luke’s proximity made you swallow hard, eyes glancing towards his plump pink lips.

“A simple congratulations Y/N would suffice.” you teased, reaching forward to play with the hem of his shirt. The things you would do to rip this thing off him right now.

“I was thinking something more along the lines of this” he said, his voice so low and deep that he was barely speaking above a whisper. Tilting your chin up with his hand, he began to place soft kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“You know, I did tell you to stop teasing princess” he continued, feeling his lips curl into a smirk against your skin as he continued to leave a trail of kisses down your neck and along your now exposed collarbone.

“and I told you that I didn’t know what you were talking about” you responded, a hint of playfulness in your voice as you started to loosen the tie from around his neck. If he was going to keep kissing you like this, it was only fair if you got to tease a little too.

In fact, you had decided that the minute he locked the meeting room door that you knew exactly what you wanted to do. You were going to tease him just enough to get him all worked up and then you’d leave. There was no way you were going to let him win this easy. Sure, you’d love to fuck his brains out. But, he was your boss and you weren’t quite that kind of girl. The chase was always fun, but you were more of a hopeless romantic. You wanted flowers and surprises, not a quick fuck in the meeting room.

“Bullshit. I need this off” Luke grunted, undoing the buttons on your white shirt before throwing it to the side. You watched as Luke’s bright blue eyes raked over your near naked chest, your intricate lace bra the only thing covering the upper half of your body.

“You should not wear a shirt more often.” He winked, returning his lips back to your neck. The kisses weren’t so soft now as he began to suck and bite at your neck, making his way down to your boobs. Running your hands through his blonde curls, you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips as his tongue flicked over your hardened nipples.

“So do you congratulate all off your staff like this when they get promotions?” you breathed, using every muscle in your body to stop yourself from moaning again. Luke definitely knew how to use his mouth.

“Only you, princess.” He said, pulling away from you a little to return his lips back to your mouth.

Feeling his hard bulge brush against your leg, you couldn’t help yourself when you reached down to start palming him through his pants. Feeling him against your hand only made you want him more and then feeling his moan against your lips was basically enough on its own to send you over the edge.

“Fuck Y/N, I need you. Now.” Luke groaned, almost desperately as he played with the buckle on his pants.

Gotcha.

“Too bad I don’t have sex until at least the third date.” You smirked, quickly hoping up from the table, lazily throwing your shirt back on and Luke’s blazer to hide the buttons that weren’t properly done up because you didn’t quite have the time.

The look on Luke’s face was priceless, you wish you had a camera handy to capture the exact expression. His mouth was hanging so far open it was nearly touching the ground.

“I told you I never lose, Hemmings” you called, just as you were about to open the door, sending the stunned boy a cheeky wink as you walked, or basically skipped, out of the meeting room. Did that really just happen?

Looking down to check the time on your phone, you almost froze completely in your spot as you read the message notification on your screen

Luke Hemmings: I’ll pick you up at 7, princess. Have you ever been on 3 dates in one night before? x

Uh-oh what had you just started?

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94pigeons · 5 years

Text

Rez Day, Crucible, and a Warlock

For @newbabyfly, I think I may have figured out why Stoom changed teams in the middle of a match...

“Hey, Lynn! Lynn! Lynnnn!” Mihovanna’s voice slowly abolished the walls between Lynn-3’s peaceful thoughts to the chaotic room around her.

Miha had called her to a meeting, which was very uncharacteristic of the titan. Well maybe not, but it was uncharacteristic of Lynn to accept the invitation, as the warlock tended to neglect the responsibility of maintaining, let alone enjoying, time with Mihovanna. It was what they were to supposed to discuss that drew Lynn to accept the meeting. Well, “discuss” is a bit of a generous term when applying it to the current events. The meeting had been fairly one sided. When Lynn had sat down on her knees, Miha had gone off on a tangent about Ymir (their fireteam hunter), and her resurrection day upcoming tomorrow. The titan flailed her arms about in exuberant gestures while she had explained her plan to make Ymir’s day one of the best she, in the words of Mihovanna, “will ever have… until next year. Probably.” Somehow the titan managed to skim over the fact that she was rezzed before Oryx’s fall, which meant that the chances of one upping anything her previous fireteam had done would be unlikely. Her old fireteam had way more time to get rez days right.

Lynn had zoned out around the part where Miha had talked about bribing the Drifter. Not because it was a stupid idea (The Drifter did not strike Lynn as moral, and would probably accept a bribe), but because the idea seemed simply barbaric. But what was she to expect from a titan? A civilized plan? Oh please. The class prided themselves on their rambunctious, loud, nearly disrespectful nature. If there was such thing as a good plan, it came from a warlock. No exceptions.

So when Lynn had been unpleasantly pulled out of her thoughts by the obnoxious repetition of her name, there was only one good response. “Let me handle it, Mihovanna”.

The Titan’s smile grew, excitement glimmering in her eyes. “Don’t worry!” Miha said, puffing out her chest in pride. “I already took care of it! I figured with you so busy with the whole fireteam Lamril situation and all, I’d better...” The Titan’s voice became softer and nearly incoherent as Lynn tuned her out.

Of course Miha had dealt with the situation. She was what, a year old? What else was she ready to do but cause problems for her.

Without another word, Lynn got up and left. As the door closed behind her, she could still hear Mihovanna talking.

The next day….

As a part of Ymir’s rez day, Mihovanna had scheduled a “special” Cruicible match with her “friend” supervising. It took much reassurance to get the Awoken hunter to consent to the plans, but they got her to agree, and together, they prepped for a match. When the three of them had arrived, the enemy fireteam was already there. By the looks of things, they were doing a four versus four match.

The enemy team consisted of 3 hunters, and a warlock. Two of the hunters were awoken: one male, and one female. The female hunter looked very nervous, her purple locks kept cascading out from behind her ears. As they did though, she quickly scooped them back up and nestled them back behind her ear. Lynn tagged her as a kinderguardian. Possibly an easy target. Possibly. One couldn’t be too sure when it came to guardians.

The other awoken, the male, radiated a completely different energy than the smaller awoken hunter. He stood, broad shoulders back and arms crossed. Four lines of black paint (designating that he belonged to the Sixe family) fell down of either side of his face, from just under his eyes to down below his ears. This man had an aura of confidence. Lynn took careful note of him and moved on the the next hunter in line.

The next hunter, who, unlike the other two, was human. The frizzy bob cut blonde hair gave the girl a sassy look. She gave Lynn a cocky smile with a tilt of her head, and whispered something to the warlock at her side.

The Warlock, like Lynn, was an exo, and appeared to be female. She, like the awoken male, seemed to be very confident. There was also something different about the Warlock across from her. Whatever it was, made Lynn shiver.

Turning her head, Lynn assessed her own team. Next to her was Ymir. Outfitted in armor with a rather pricey shader, Malchesidec Bramble, equipped to it. Lynn was almost excited to see Ymir don her helmet, which the hunter fiddled with in her hands. Ymir was intimidating when one could not see the emotion she expressed. Her face was light blue, and her straight bob cut hair was a darker version of the same color. Lynn noted Ymir’s twitching face. She was nervous. The white, barely visible U between her eyebrows was pushed together in worry. Her eyes, also blue, were skimming the enemy team. She too seemed to be worried about the outcome of the game. More so than Lynn was.

Next over was Mihovanna, decked out in chucky armor and covered the shader Ymir had given Miha when it was her rez day. Lynn recalls that Ymir had thought Metallic Sunrise complemented Mihovanna’s dark complexion. As much as the warlock hated to admit it, the hunter was absolutely right. The shader did look good on the titan, made her look experienced. But she wasn’t, and anyone could tell, especially at the present moment. Mihovanna was not assessing the enemy team in the little time she was granted to do so, but instead was whispering to her ghost, Pip, a wild grin on her face.

Lynn shifted her gaze to the spot next to Miha, and to her dread, discovered it was empty.

“Five more seconds” Lynn’s ghost, Ophilia, said.

Sighing, the warlock slid her helmet over her metallic head, and pulled her weapon off her back, getting ready for transmat.

Looking over at her fireteam, they were doing the same thing. Ymir exchanging a shy smile with the enemy team before she slid her helmet over her head and tugged her hood over it, shielding her helmet from Lynn’s view.

Then they were transmitted in. Over comms, Mihovanna let out a whoop of excitement as she charged forward. Ymir gave a barely audible chuckle, and rushed off to catch up with the titan. Lynn just sighed, and trudged forward. This would be a bad day.

Five minutes later…

Lynn and her team were getting crushed. Five minutes and no backfill was provided. Ymir was frustrated. Mihovanna kept charging in, having a blast but refusing to acknowledge the consequences of doing so. And Lynn? Lynn was pissed. Getting dragged into losing a game because of Mihovanna’s poor planning skills.

And the enemy team showed no mercy.

They split up in teams of two. The warlock and the frizzy haired hunter were together, and the awoken kinderguardian and the awoken male were paired up.

Anytime Lynn and her team attempted to take advantage and kill the awoken kinderguardian, her partner would swoop in out of nowhere and absolutely obliterate anyone within sight. Like some sort of protective papa bear.

After failing and trying multiple times with the awoken team, they decided to try and single out the other pair. They soon discovered that they had made a mistake trying to fight the hunter warlock duo. They had made a big mistake.

Once red had showed up on Miha’s radar, the titan charged in, getting stabbed in the face by the frizzy haired hunter. Standing over Mihovanna’s corpse, the hunter paused. Her helmet tipped to the side, and she dashed around a nearby corner. Frustrated, Lynn and Ymir gave chase, eager to add the hunter to their meager kill count.

After rounding the corner that the frizzy haired hunter had just a moment before, the duo stopped. The warlock stood confidently, blocking their path. The hunter was on her left tossing her knife into the air, catching it, then repeating the process.

The warlock laughed as she unleashed her Nova bomb on the two guardians. Lynn managed to barely avoid the Nova Bomb, taking massive amounts of damage. Ymir wasn’t so lucky. Scrambling backwards, Lynn fired her gun. It was in vain though, and the frizzy haired hunter flung her knife towards the injured warlock. It embedded itself between Lynn’s optics, smothering out Lynn’s last bit of health.

Back at spawn, morale was low and silent. Miha was in shock that she had just been stabbed by a knife, and Ymir was waiting for Lynn, knowing it would be in vain.

Ymir’s ghost, Antony, broke the silence. “A member of the enemy fireteam has left” he said, nonchalantly. “Looks like you three might have a chance after all.”

Miha laughed. “We’re gonna win now!”

Lynn stayed quiet and let Miha get her hopes up. It was good for the team. But then a notification popped up on her hud that read: “A new member has joined the fireteam”. It was quickly followed by a transmat next to fireteam Hazard.

As the special effects faded away, the fireteam’s eyes came to rest on a familiar figure. To their horror the three came to recognize the new guardian as the warlock from the enemy team. Out of the corner of Lynn’s eye, she saw Ymir spread her feet and raise her ebony pulse rifle to her shoulder, ready to shoot the warlock.

The warlock seemed just as surprised as Lynn was, looking around, confused.

Miha laughed again. “I told you we would win!”

After the match…

They didn’t win. But with the assistance of the warlock, Stoomdorm-2, their team had gained momentum. Lynn had to admit, finally getting kills felt good, even if they were just assists.

Miha was a bit down, since she was so confident that the team would win after Stoom had joined. Turns out, Miha had paid nearly all her glimmer to hire some shady guy in the tower to mix up the enemy teams and give her team the unfair advantage. It happened a bit late. But worth it. The expressions of Stoom’s former allies when they realized she had switched teams was priceless.

Mihovanna finished up the day going out to some obscure restaurant down in the city. They sat down at the table, and Miha grilled Ymir with questions about her day.

“What surprised you the most?”

“Probably when you found me at the memorial.”

“What was your favorite part of the day.”

“That unsupervised Crucible match.”

Lynn choked on her drink. “What? How the hell was that the best part of the day?”

“That other fireteam…” Ymir chuckled. “Reminded me of the good old days.” Smiling she took another sip of her water, lost in fond memories.

Miha, as if on queue, absolutely obliterated the mood. “Yeaaah, I remember you telling me about those guys. One of them is at the memorial, right?”

Lynn flinched, knowing this topic all to well, and the sadness it could bring to fireteam Hazard.

“Yes Miha.” How Ymir had so much patience with the titan, Lynn had no idea. “Kahlil was his name.”

Lynn was eager to get off this topic. She glanced around the room, trying to discover a reason to change the discussion. Luckily, it was easily found.

“Oh my Lord…” Lynn said. “Over there near the bar.” She gestured to a table with three hunters and a warlock sitting at it.

Miha exclaimed rather loudly, “It’s them!” The room grew quiet, and the occupants watched Mihovanna abruptly stand up, and stop over to Stoom’s table. The room regained it’s normal ambiance after Miha had sat down at the table with the other fireteam.

Lynn glanced at Ymir, who chuckled. “Nice save, but it could have been smoother, Lynn.”

Snorting the warlock rolled her eyes. “Well you seemed so fond of them, I feel like I should have pointed them out to you.” Lynn paused to take a sip of her beverage. “You should probably go over there, make sure Miha doesn't tell that warlock about that bribing stunt she pulled.”

Grinning, Ymir stood. “If you insist…” She chuckled as she sauntered over to join Miha and the other fireteam.

Lynn just leaned back in her chair, relishing the time she had to herself, and the laughter that filled the room.

#destiny2 #fireteam Hazard #I'm sorry my writing is bad asdffhfjgjk

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thisisnoticecreamthisisbutter · 6 years

Text

Dusk Til Dawn

AU - Vampire & Werewolf High School

Name - Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul (ชิตพล ลี้ชัยพรกุล) / Ten

Open/Closed - Closed

Closed To - @taetaeloli

Location - Suncheon High School, Seoul, South Korea

Time - 7:30 a.m.

A dark haired male fiddled absentmindedly with the silver ring that sat innocently on his middle finger, his eyes trained on the piece of metal. On the ring there was crest; the foreign teenager’s family crest to be exact. It displayed to others, who he belonged to, which happened to be the Leechaiyapornkul family. Said family was a well known vampire family in Bangkok, Thailand.

Yes, vampires. It wasn’t the stereotypical kind of vampires either. They weren’t grotesque. They are capable of consuming food, especially garlic. They definitely do not sleep in coffins nor live in dark, damp places like dungeons or basements or whatever comes to a human’s mind. Vampires are also still alive. Their heart still beats in their chest, pumps blood throughout their body. They are beautiful and elegant in appearance and some are also beautiful in personality since there are plenty of horrid ones in the species. Vampires do possess the stereotypical capabilities: enhanced strength, speed and senses. They even have the stereotypical glowing crimson colored eyes. Vampires can never avoid the effects of vervain, which can weaken a vampire to the point where the vampire’s healing capabilities are slowed. Coming in physical contact with vervain can even burn the vampire. While he along with vampires can’t protect themselves against vervain, they are capable of protecting themselves from sunlight. They can go out in the sunlight albeit with the help of a sunlight ring, which was created by witches to prevent vampires from suffering damage from the harsh sun. The ring that was on the teenager’s finger was exactly that. It was a ring spelled by a witch to protect it’s bearer from being burnt to a crisp under the harsh rays of the sun. The young vampire’s ring was spelled by a popular and powerful witch from Thailand by the request of his now deceased parents.

The vampire’s gaze drifted away from his family ring before peering out of the car window, curiously. He’s never been here before. Well- he’s never been to this country in his life. He has always lived in Thailand in the city of Bangkok. He never really expected that he would find himself in South Korea by himself. He always expected that he would be in a different country with his mother, father and little sister, but nope. He was by himself in a foreign country. Ten would usually be nervous or feeling completely uneasy and on edge, but he was still in contact with two of his childhood friends. Both of them had moved to South Korea a couple of years ago because of family reasons. It was rather lonely not having anyone to spend time with, but settled on focusing his energy on his studies, which landed him here in South Korea. Ten was accepted into Suncheon High School due to his grades, which he had his previous school send them to schools in Seoul. He received multiple acceptance letters, but the declined all but one since he remembered two of his friends attended school there. That’s the main reason why Ten chose this high school. There’s also the fact that the school allows vampires, werewolves and surprisingly humans into the school. This would be the first time he’s been to a school that allows all three species. Usually there are only vampires allowed or only werewolves or only humans allowed with the occasional vampires and werewolves only schools. That’s what he and his friends attended, the co-species schools since his two friends were two different species. One of them was a werewolf while the other was a vampire just like him.

Ten began tapping his foot against the floor of the car as his nerves began to get a hop of him. Ahhhh~ He wanted to hurry up and get at the school. He wanted to see his friends again. He missed hanging out with Lisa and BamBam, going shopping, heading to a karaoke room, getting food, roaming around in the park or doing whatever. The vampire visibly perked up when his driver told him that they would be arriving at their destination meaning the school. A bright and adorable smile appeared on his face while the vampire moved in the back seat to get a better look at his school. It was a pretty huge school and it made the teenager’s eyes sparkle from how it looks. It looked better and a lot more impressive than his old school in his opinion.

Once the car stopped, Ten eagerly got out of the car with his backpack in hand while telling his driver his thanks before closing the door behind him. He slipped his backpack on with a smile on his face before turning around, waving goodbye to his driver. He stopped waving when he lost sight of the car before shifting his attention back to the school building.The vampire fiddled with the ring on his finger for a moment or two before moving towards the building and past the school gates with a slight bounce in his step. He couldn’t help but be excited, but he kept his cool and refrained from showing how eager he was. Ten found himself tugging on the black sleeve of the uniform jacket he wore when he neared the school and his nerves were getting to him.

The vampire pushed the door open and walked into the building already feeling lost. He silently looked around, his eyes scanning anything that would help point him to the office so he could get his name tag and class schedule. Ten was mentally translating the korean words he saw into his own language. When he spotted a sign that pointed him in the right direction, he obediently followed where it was telling him to go and it didn’t take long for him to arrive at the faculty office. He went straight to the receptionist that sat behind the desk before going through the whole mess of getting his class schedule and name tag and that mess in general. (Poor writer of this mess is getting so tired of it so fast). The vampire had zoned out while he was pinning his name tag to his jacket before entirely zoning the adult even further when he realized that she was still talking. The only time he snapped out of it was when he heard her ask him if he understood what she was talking about. Ten immediately and sweetly smiled at her while obviously saying that he did understand before she ushered him away so he could find his first class.

Ten didn’t mind. He wanted to hurry up and get to his first class and meet up with his old friends and explore the school in general. That’s more or less why he tuned the woman out. He didn’t want time to drag on longer than it should. He wanted to speed things up and if that meant ignoring the woman then sure, why not. The vampire gazed at the piece of paper in his hand, blankly staring at the first time slot as he slowly processed where the hell he was suppose to go. Sure he could have asked someone for help, but he didn’t really want to bother anyone especially when everyone looked busy and he wanted to find his classroom by himself anyway.

Ten attempted to figure out where he was going and he thought he had it when he found himself in front of a classroom door. He glanced down at the paper then at the nameplate by the door. It had the same last name and first initial of the teacher who was suppose to be his teacher…so that means that this is the right classroom. Ten didn’t even notice the room number. He just kind of ignored it; his eyes skimmed right over it and shrugged it off as unimportant. Wrong move on his end in all honesty. If he did bother to look then he’d realize that this was the wrong classroom. Since he didn’t bother looking well… he just walked right on in.

First thing he noticed was that everyone in the room so far was a werewolf. Second thing he noticed was that the second he walked in there were immediately looking at him as if he kicked their pet or something. It was unnerving, but this was his classroom so the vampire went further into the classroom. He didn’t know where he wanted to sit. His eyes scanned the room before spotting an empty seat beside a wolf that wasn’t paying him any attention. So he made up his mind to side to sit by that wolf. Ten went straight to the wolf. The closer he got the more aware he was about the wolf’s appearance. Obviously the wolf chose to not wear the uniform jacket and he was barely wearing the uniform like how it should be. His hair was bleached and dyed to rather shocking and surprising shade of white. It wasn’t bad. In fact, it made the wolf look hella good in his opinion. It complimented the wolf’s skin tone and his overall aura.

Ten gently grasped the back of the chair before pulling it back so he would have enough room to be able to sit down in the chair. The vampire shrugged off his backpack, setting it on the ground before sitting down in the pulled out chair. The vampire wasn’t entirely oblivious. He could sense the tension in the room and it made the vampire anxious and jittery. So to distract himself from all the eyes focused on him, Ten set his attention to the werewolf that has yet to show any signs of hostility towards him. ”Good morning. My name is Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul. I just transferred here from Thailand so my name might be a bit of a mouthful so call me Ten. What’s your name?” The vampire chirped with a sweet and adorable smile on his face, easily ignoring the others in the room. He wanted to befriend this wolf mostly because he has yet to get a negative response from him just by walking into the room. It’s weird. At his old school - schools - no one get glared at for walking into a classroom. Although mostly everyone in the classroom so far is a wolf. Maybe they’re mad since he intruded in their “territory” maybe? Ah… He didn’t know and he wouldn’t catch onto the reason why they’re so fucking salty until someone tells him that there was a whole werewolf vs vampire shit happening in the school. Of course Ten wouldn’t understand the purpose of the whole thing and call it out on being a load of stupid bullshit in a very loud voice and in a less colorful way straight in that person’s face. He didn’t get it. He didn’t see the point so he would just call all of those people idiots. Sure he had that kind of stuff at his old school, but it was just competitive fun unless they legit hated someone then that’s an entirely different story.

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