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cdelphiki · 4 years

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“Fuck.”

Jason’s spoon clanked into his bowl, as he dropped it and fumbled for the remote. He’d been watching Jeopardy! with the volume low. Half the fun of the game was answering the questions himself, and really, the idiots on the show were often just distracting.

But Jeopardy! wasn’t on the screen anymore.

The Joker was.

The Joker and the current Robin.

“—play a game, shall we?” Joker said, and Jason just cursed louder as he tossed his cereal on the coffee table and jumped up.

“Hrnn,” Robin groaned, when the camera panned to him, “Who’d want to play with you?”

Fucking brat.

The poor kid looked in rough shape. His mask was slightly ripped, showing off a massive bruise right under one of his eyes. His fat lip and the blood trickling down his chin didn’t help much, either.

Oh, yeah. And the fact he was tied up and inside a tiny little cage.

How the hell had Joker got his hands on Robin?

Never mind, Jason thought, as he kicked around the shit on his floor, freeing the various pieces of his Red Hood uniform, he knew exactly how Robin got himself captured.

Batman was out of town.

And he’d left Robin in charge of Gotham.

Like a fucking moron.

“Uh, uh uh,” Joker said, “That’s no way to behave. Be a good little birdy.”

Robin groaned, when Joker stuck a stick inside Robin’s cage, and jabbed him in the side. He pressed a button, and Tim’s groan turned to a scream as he was electrocuted.

Jason grimaced.

“Now,” Joker continued, through a laugh, “The answer is ‘Topeka.’”

Joker’s stupid fucking laugh.

Jason should not be helping the bats.

He did not help the bats. The bats hated him. And, sure, they had good reason to, but it just meant Jason shouldn’t be helping them out of principle!

Why help people who hate your guts and wish you were still dead?

The bats are out of town, his mind helpfully reminded him, they can’t save Robin. And like hell was Jason going to let Joker kill another Robin.

“Shit,” he mumbled, as he grabbed his helmet and shoved it on his head. All he needed was his guns, now.

“Come now, Robin,” Joker said, “You’re disappointing the viewers at home.”

“No, you’re disappointing the viewers,” Jason snapped, as he placed three guns into his holsters, and grabbed his spare magazines, checking to make sure each was full. “No one wants to watch the fucking Joker fuck with a little kid.”

Even if that little kid was Tim Drake. And annoying as fuck.

The camera zoomed back on Robin’s face, and Robin finally mumbled out, “Capital of Kansas.”

Robin screamed, again, when Joker jabbed him with the shock stick, and Jason growled.

He grabbed his tablet and hacked into the batcomputer in record time. He wasn’t sure if Bruce knew he could still do that, but at the moment he was fucking glad he hadn’t been caught yet.

“You didn’t phrase your answer in the form of a question! Haven’t you ever watched Jeopardy!? That’s what the good folks want right now.”

“Fuck, kid,” Jason mumbled, as he triangulated a location on Robin’s tracker, “Where are you?”

Only Robin’s tracker was listed in Gotham, too. No one else was around. Not Alfred. Not Batgirl. No one.

Why the fuck did Bruce keep leaving Robin all alone?

Hadn’t he learned his lesson the first time?

Tim groaned on screen again, making Jason draw his gun and unload the full clip on the screen.

Shit.

His neighbors probably hated him.

“Where are you,” he growled at the tablet, just as Robin’s location finished loading.

Warehouse in Crime Alley.

Not even five blocks from Jason’s safe house.

Good.

- - -

The Joker had almost no henchmen guarding his warehouse.

Usually Joker’s operations were more thought through. Right?

This time it was just pathetic.

How in the ever-loving-fuck had he got his hands on Robin, anyway?

It took Jason not even ten minutes to reach the warehouse, break in, and incapacitate all ten of his thugs. It took only another fifteen seconds to climb up into the rafters, into the main area where Joker was ‘filming’ with Robin.

“Now, Robin,” Joker said, his his annoying high pitched drawl, “You are down in the negatives. You need to get this next answer correct or—”

Jason didn’t let him finish the thought.

Because he shot the Joker in the ass.

“Shut the fuck up,” Red Hood snarled, as he dropped down from the rafters, right on top of Joker, “No one cares as much as you think.”

“Hood,” Joker said, grinning wide, despite all the blood leaking out of him.

Or, well. Not much. Jason should shoot him again.

Robin would get all high and mighty, if Jason actually killed Joker.

Fucking hell.

“How nice of you to drop by!” Joker said, laughing, “We could use a second contestant.”

Yeah. Sure.

Jason brought his elbow down into Joker’s face. Hard. Breaking his nose and knocking him flat out.

“How disappointing,” Jason said, as he stood up and turned toward Robin, “That wasn’t nearly as satisfying as shooting him in the face would have been.”

Robin stayed laying there, where he was, curled up in his cage, clutching his stomach tight.

Whistling, Jason crossed the room and tried to get Tim’s attention. “Yo. Half-pint, you all right there?”

Tim didn’t react, other than to curl up tighter when Jason approached the cage and put a hand on one of the bars.

“Shit,” he mumbled, “Okay, kid. I’ll get you out.”

Ridiculously, it took longer to figure out a way to get Tim out of the cage.

He tried to pry the fucking lock open with a crowbar he found laying around…

Joker and his fucking crowbars.

But the lock wouldn’t budge, and the stupid replacement Robin kept flinching every time Jason got too near. Which, should have probably made Jason feel bad.

If he were, like, a good person.

Instead it just pissed him off enough that he grabbed the crowbar and started bashing it against the lock, until the damn thing fell off.

“Okay,” Jason said as he opened the cage door, “Tell me what the damage is, kid.”

Robin didn’t respond, so Jason reached in and placed one gloved hand on his shoulder. All he was going to do was shake it, a little. Just to make sure the kid was alive. And like, just out of it.

But apparently Robin was super out of it, because instead of growl at him or snap some dumbass quip, he jumped up and punched Jason right in the stomach.

“Fuck,” he huffed. The little sucker packed a mean one, but he was too damn out of it for it to do more than make Jason wince. “The fuck, kid? Knock it off.”

Tim jumped up, however, on top of the cage, then wobbled there as he tried to right his balance. The second Jason tried to reach out to him, to catch him before he toppled over, or some shit, Tim pulled out a couple of his stupid R shaped throwing stars and started throwing them.

“Shit,” Jason growled, as he dodged, “Kid, knock it off.”

“What do you want?” Robin asked, and with that, apparently reached the end of his spike of adrenaline.

Because the next thing Jason knew, Robin was falling off the cage bars he’d been perched on, and Jason had barely enough time to dive the few feet between them and catch the stupid runt before he landed on the concrete ground, head first.

“Get off me,” Robin demanded, thrashing about in Jason’s hold.

All it made Jason do was squeeze his arms around Tim tighter.

“Stop,” Tim said, his voice getting a little more desperate, “Get off.”

“Ow,” Jason complained, when Tim kicked him in the knee, “Would you knock it off. Am I hurting you?”

Tim stilled, for a second, and seemed to evaluate the situation. Jason was still holding onto him, but he loosed his arms a little.

“No?” Tim asked, like he wasn’t sure if that were the correct answer, or something.

Stupid brat. And they accused Jason of shooting first, asking questions later.

“Then why the fuck are you fighting me?” Jason demanded.

“You’re…” Tim said, then paused as he put a hand up to his head. Shit. Jason needed to get him back to a safe house and checked out.

Letting go of Tim completely, Jason set him down and maneuvered, so he was kneeling in front of the stupid runt. He put a hand on Tim’s head and forced his head back, a little, so Jason could get a good look at it. He could see one of Tim’s eyes, due to his mask having so much damage on it, and it looked like Tim was at least making eye contact.

Or, at least. As much eye contact as he could when Jason was wearing a helmet.

“You’re the Red Hood?” Tim finally answered.

Jason merely huffed. “Yeah. And you’re the boy hostage. Where are you hurt?”

“What?” Tim demanded, “Why do you care?” and Jason rolled his eyes.

“Like I’m gonna let Joker kill you. That’s my job.”

Okay.

Wrong thing to say.

Because Tim’s eye grew wide, and he shuffled backward, out of Jason’s reach, kicking his feet.

Jason tried to grab his feet, to make him stop, but Tim kept kicking, and got Jason right in the ribs.

“Ouch, stop it. I was kidding.” Tim got him on the chin, and Jason snapped, “Just stop. I’m trying to help you.”

“Why,” Tim demanded, as Jason finally caught one of his legs and held it up high enough that Tim lost his balance.

It was kind of amusing, how Tim landed on his back, and just groaned.

“Why’s there gotta be a reason?” he asked, “Maybe I don’t want to see another Robin die!”

“You beat me near to death like two minutes ago,” Tim shouted, pulling at his foot, and not succeeding in freeing himself.

Because Jason was standing, and Tim was short. It would be no trouble at all for Jason to just lift Tim right up off the ground entirely by his leg.

“It’s been four months, stop being dramatic.”

“You expect me to believe you’ve changed enough since then that it matters?” Tim demanded, just as he pulled another throwing star out and threw it at Jason.

Too bad for Tim, Jason saw it coming a mile away. And just caught it.

“Yep!” he cheered, “You done now? You’re, like, super out if it and your fight sucks. If you couldn’t tell.”

Robin mumbled something Jason didn’t catch, so Jason dropped his foot, and tried not to grin too wide when Tim groaned when his body hit the ground.

He didn’t fall too far.

And Jason was sure his head and upper back had been on the ground, already, before he let go.

“Can you walk on your own?” he asked.

Once Tim stopped being all dramatic about everything, he grumbled out a, “No,” so Jason knelt down next to him and offered a hand, to help Tim sit up.

Tim glared at him with so much derision, it risked making Jason laugh.

Instead, all he said was, “Then stop fucking fighting me and let me help.”

“Fine,” Tim snapped, lifting an arm up so Jason could wrap it around Jason’s shoulders, “But if you try anything, I’m calling for Superman.”

“Whatever,” Jason said, as he hefted Tim to his feet, and started making toward the warehouse exit, “Just shut up and let me get you out of here.”

Tim was in pretty rough shape.

Jason already knew that, of course, but it became even more obvious as they made their way back to Jason’s safe house.

Mostly because Jason did all the fucking work.

Tim’s left leg was obviously fucked up. Jason was a little glad he hadn’t held that leg up in the air, because then he’d feel guilty.

And that wasn’t it. He kept clutching at his stomach, and Jason was willing to bet there was at least some pretty bad burns there from all the zapping.

Dragging Tim’s ass up the side of Jason’s building was easy, of course. But annoying. Because Jason had to hold onto Tim tight, because the stupid brat’s grip kept loosening whenever Jason jostled him too much.

“Shit kid,” Jason mumbled, as he pushed Tim through the window to his safe house, “I can’t believe Bruce leaves his fucking kid all alone to protect Gotham when he’s out of town.”

Because, seriously.

This was ridiculous.

Tim was fucked up. And it was all Bruce’s fault.

“M’not his kid,” Tim mumbled, as he stumbled a few feet inside Jason’s safe house, over to the couch. He collapsed down with an oof.

Jason rolled his eyes and closed the window behind him, after he jumped inside. “You are too a kid,” he said, unsnapping his helmet and tossing it down on the ground, “You’re like, thirteen.”

Tim followed Jason with his eyes, even as he sank into the couch a little more, and said, “I’m fifteen. And I said I’m not his kid.”

“Fifteen!” Jason shouted, tossing his gloves on the ground. His safe house was pretty small, so his kitchen was his living room. And he, thankfully, had a pretty good first aid kit sitting in the cabinet under his sink. “That’s how old I was. And obviously I meant his son, you idiot.”

“I’m not his son either,” Tim said.

Jason paused, as he was pulling his kit out, and looked up over the counter at the little brat.

“He didn’t adopt you?”

Hadn’t Talia said….?

How the fuck was he even Robin?

“No,” Tim exclaimed, “I have a dad.”

Is that why Bruce was more lenient on Tim? Because he wasn’t his son?

Bruce never let Jason out of his fucking sight as Robin.

He’d thought that was because he didn’t trust Jason, and clearly he trusted Tim.

But was it maybe because he’d adopted….

Nope. Not thinking about this.

“And he lets you run around with the bats?” Jason asked, finally crossing back over to Tim and slamming the first aid kit down on the coffee table.

Tim jumped, but then scowled at Jason and said, “It’s not like he can stop me.”

“Seriously, kid?”

“Look. It’s none of your business. Are you gonna let me go?”

In that state? Not bloody likely.

But instead of say that, and get Robin all fighty again, Jason said, “I’m not keeping you prisoner, but let me look at your injuries.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but sank back down into the couch and mumbled, “I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” Jason said, pointing toward the stomach Tim was still clutching, “lemme see.”

It took a second of Tim glaring, but he finally relented and lifted his shirt, and Jason could only wince in sympathy.

“Damn, Timbo,” he said, looking at the criss crossing scorch marks littering his abdomen, “Those look fun. I’ve got some burn cream that should help.”

Jason worked on Tim’s injuries in silence for a good ten minutes. He had so many burns, Jason kind of wanted to go back and shoot Joker in the ass again, just for inflicting them.

And maybe go find Bruce and shoot him in the ass, for leaving Tim all alone for this to happen in the first place.

“That one needs stitches,” Jason said, after he’d pulled Tim’s sleeves up, inspecting his arms for any more burns to treat. Instead, he found a jagged knife wound, that was still oozing a little. “Did you think you could hide it from me?”

Tim pulled his arm closer to himself, and mumbled, “S’not that bad.”

Jason rolled his eyes, and pulled out his suture kit. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Amazingly, Tim didn’t fight him at all, when he took his arm back and started cleaning the wound enough so he could apply the local anesthetic and start stitching it up.

Instead, all Tim did was stare at him, a little blankly.

It was actually unnerving.

“What?” he snapped.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you,” Jason scoffed, readjusting his hold on Tim’s arm so he could get the last few stitches in straight, “I’m not letting Joker kill another Robin.”

And, sure. Stitching the kid up and treating all his burns was going a little above and beyond.

But Jason would feel a little bad if he, like, bled to death or whatever.

“Yeah,” Tim said, blinking hard as he ran his free hand through his hair, “But like, you coulda just took him out and left. Why’re you— ow.”

“Whoops,” Jason said, bearing his teeth a little as he grinned at the accidental needle prick he gave Tim outside the numbed area, “Are you seriously complaining? Don’t you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

Tim was rich, wasn’t he? Weren’t they taught that shit, too?

Jason was pretty sure Bruce never let him be ungrateful about gifts. Not that Jason would, of course. But even Bruce Wayne taught his kids to be thankful for what they had…

Then again. Tim apparently wasn’t Bruce’s kid…

“When that gift horse tries to kill us every other week, no,” Tim said.

“Shut up,” Jason scoffed, “I haven’t messed with you idiots in months.”

Which was, absolutely, completely, 89% true.

He hadn’t attempted anything fatal on them in months. Fucked with their cases for the laughs? Maybe.

Mostly just Bruce’s. When it didn’t get anyone hurt, of course.

Just because it was fun to fuck with Bruce.

Because fuck Bruce.

“Yeah, but— ow.”

Jason might have stabbed him again.

“All done,” he said, before Tim could get out whatever it was he was going to protest, “Congratulations, you’ll survive. You can sleep here. I’m burning the safe house tomorrow, though.”

He’d shot the TV. So it was pretty useless now, anyway.

“Next time you get captured by the Joker, I’m shooting you in the ass, got it?”

“Yeah,” Tim said, rolling his eyes as he settled back on the couch a little more comfortably, “Whatever.”

Jason watched as Tim pulled his legs up and clearly just… collapsed there. To sleep. And rolled his eyes even harder.

Like that would be comfortable.

On his way to the window, after he’d put his helmet back on, Jason grabbed the blanket and pillow from under the coffee table and threw it right at Tim’s head.

Tim scowled, but did readjust himself so he looked at least slightly more comfortable.

Satisfied, Jason nodded and said, “Kay. Tell Bats I said fuck him. Later, squirt.”

“Thanks, Jason,” Tim mumbled, just as Jason was slipping out of the window.

Heh. The runt wasn’t so bad, after all.

Maybe.

But Jason was not going to make a habit of this. No way.

If he did, he’d have to go shoot Batman in the ass, for letting his stupid little Robin get hurt.

That would be fun, actually.

#whumptober2020 #no.4 #caged #batman #batfam #red hood #robin #tim drake #jason todd #c writes #fanfiction #injuries #hurt/comfort #batbros #cross posted to ao3

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heyitssmiller · 4 years

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Clandestine: Chapter Nine

Another cliffhanger? Me? Nah.

All characters belong to @lumosinlove

@donttouchmycarrots is the best and I love her so much. She also inspired a lot of this chapter’s angst, so it’s not all my fault this time! <3

CW: violence, blood/injuries, guns/gun violence

Clandestine Masterlist

Sirius woke up alone. This in and of itself wasn’t unusual, until he remembered the events of the night before. Wandering hands, soft, needy sighs, and warm lips that kissed him and kissed him and kissed him. He rolled onto his stomach and smothered himself with his pillow to hide the smile that took over his entire face, heart beating giddily in his chest. That happened.

Holy shit.

But that begged the question: where was he?

Sirius stayed in bed for a few moments, thinking that maybe Remus was coming back, but then he got too impatient and crawled out of bed to go searching. If he was camped out in front of that laptop again this early… but no. He was standing in front of the stove, prodding at the contents of a frying pan. The smell of coffee reached Sirius and he smiled again as he entered the kitchen, making sure his footsteps were loud enough for Remus to hear - that way it wasn’t a surprise when he came to stand behind Remus and wrapped his arms around his waist, hooking his chin on his shoulder to watch what was happening on the stove.

A general rule of dating a spy - don’t sneak up on them. It tends to end badly.

“Morning.” Sirius mumbled, turning his head to press a lingering kiss to a tendon in Remus’ neck and smiling against warm skin. Remus hummed, leaning back into Sirius’ chest and angling his neck to give him better access. That simple, innocuous motion stole Sirius’ breath. Remus didn’t trust easily - Sirius could understand why, given everything he’d been through. But there he was, relaxed against Sirius, eyes closed, completely trusting. Sirius wasn’t exactly sure what to do with something so precious, but damn he really didn’t want to screw this up. So he continued to place kiss after kiss to Remus’s skin, finding a ticklish spot right below his ear that made him laugh and squirm in Sirius’ arms before he shoved him away, a wide, happy smile on his face.

Had Sirius ever been this happy before? He doubted it.

“So what’s for breakfast, chef?” He asked, peering at the frying pan. Remus turned the stove off and grabbed plates from the cabinet by the fridge while Sirius grabbed silverware and napkins. It was incredibly domestic. Sirius couldn’t get enough of it.

“Scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee. Nothing gourmet, but it’s the best I can do.” He answered as he scooped eggs out of the frying pan and grabbed toast from the toaster, then handed the plate to Sirius. They took their plates to the tiny kitchen table, along with the coffee and creamer and jams before sitting down to eat.

It was… nice. Their relationship had changed a lot the night before, but it was easy - a seamless transition from friends to more. He’d always assumed there would be some awkwardness with a big change like that, but it felt normal. Remus still teased him for how he took his coffee, Sirius still kicked him for it. They went over their plans for the day and what they wanted to get done. The ease of it all made Sirius wonder just how long they’d been teetering over that precipice.

It also made him feel guilty, how happy he was when his brother was still trapped with the Snakes and Finn still missing. Remus seemed to recognize his shift in emotion and smiled sadly, reaching across the table to tangle their hands together.

“We’re going to figure something out.” He said quietly before taking a sip of coffee, not once letting go of Sirius’ hand but playing with his fingers absentmindedly. It made it a bit tricky to eat, but Sirius couldn’t say he minded one bit.

He hoped Remus was right.

***

“Update?” Talker asked as soon as Remus and Sirius entered the office, looking tired. He kept pace with them as they walked, eager for a response. He and Finn were pretty close, constantly cracking jokes and trading jabs and playing pranks. But then again, Finn was a very outgoing guy - he was pretty close with a lot of people.

Sure enough, as they rounded the corner they found a gathering of people outside Remus’ office, all friends. All worried.

And a stranger standing next to Kasey, watching them as they approached. Red hair, brown eyes, faint freckles.

Remus didn’t have to ask who he was.

He stuck his hand out for the agent to shake. “O’Hara.”

Alex shook his hand briefly, soulful eyes a myriad of warring emotions. “Please tell me what the hell is going on.”

Remus looked at him, then the rest of the people around his office. They all needed to know what was going on, but he felt like Alex deserved the chance to hear this on his own, without the prying eyes of a bunch of strangers.

Sirius seemed to know exactly what he needed. It was like a sixth sense. “Lions, to the conference room! I’ll tell you what we know.” He gave Remus a warm smile, one that he was helpless to return. Last night was… blinding, as strange as it sounded. Sirius was all he could see now - the bright, expressive eyes, full, addictive lips, and wow he needed to get off this train of thought quickly. He had important things to do today.

Sirius seemed to know exactly what was on his mind. His smile turned secretive and sly before he shot Remus a wink and led the way to the conference room, leaving only Alex. Remus looked at him, then jerked his head towards his office. Alex followed after him and instantly sat down in one of the extra chairs, eyes never leaving Remus. He looked tired, worried, desperate for answers.

Remus sighed, an ache in his chest. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him, dealing with his younger brother being kidnapped. If it was Jules, Remus would lose his mind. “Let’s just start at the beginning, ok?” And so he did. He went over the general premise of the mission, what they’d done so far, and what went wrong. Alex listened quietly, taking it in.

When they were finally caught up Alex leaned back in his chair, raking a hand through his hair - a motion that was so Finn that Remus had to hold his breath for a second before releasing it. “So do we have any leads? What’s the plan?”

“We’ve got three possible locations. We’re going to try to narrow it down and then send in the two operatives we’ve already got in Slytherin.”

“Finn’s partners.”

There was something about the way Alex said that. The wrinkle in his brow, eyes hard and unflinching. Unforgiving. Remus gave him a look, keeping his voice neutral. “It was a freak accident, O’Hara. Not their fault.”

He wasn’t brave enough to tell the agent how much of that fault rested on his own shoulders. He was basically in charge of this mission. He’d been the one in charge of planning, giving them the go-ahead, looking out for signs of danger. There were signs of the op going bad - he could see that now, in hindsight. But hindsight was always 20/20, wasn’t it?

And now he was sitting here, explaining to the brother of the agent he let get kidnapped that they didn’t really have a solid plan. They were still scattered and struggling to recollect themselves after that disaster of a mission. What exactly was he supposed to say?

Alex ignored his earlier attempt at placation. “You’re telling me that your plan is to send one agent and a rookie safe-cracker into Snakes headquarters and break my brother out? That’s all you’ve got?”

“The rest of us are already on their radar. If we sent in other agents-”

“Bullshit.” Alex growled, leaning forward dangerously. And really, Remus couldn’t fault him for any of this. Their bond ran deep, apparently. “You’re taking down the Snakes anyways, what’s wrong with pushing up the timeline a little? We don’t need to be covert anymore, we need to be dominant and aggressive.”

“That makes your brother collateral damage,” Remus reasoned. “We go in guns-blazing, the first thing they’ll do is make it a hostage situation.”

Alex sighed, his shoulders slumping and all the fight leaving him in a split-second, frustration rolling off him in waves. “Fuck.”

“We’ve got an ex-Snake on the team and a guy on the inside. Potentially,” he felt like he had to add, because he still wasn’t sure what to think of the younger Black brother. Sirius trusted him, sure, but was that enough?

One wrong move and they could lose three agents. This required precision and cunning, not hot-headed recklessness.

“We’re going to do our best to get him out of there.” Remus finally finished, trying to instill confidence with just the words. Alex just smiled sadly.

“Good media answer, right there.”

Remus’ phone buzzed twice in his pocket, signaling an incoming message. He fumbled with it for a second, then looked down at the screen. “Well, I might have a better answer in a few minutes. One of his partners says they’ve got news.”

Remus just hoped it was finally some good news.

***

Logan was still pacing - back and forth, back and forth. It wasn’t a stressed pace this time, exactly. His stride was longer, full of pent-up energy and restlessness. Leo was switching between watching him and reading the messages Regulus sent the night before to Loops and Sirius, who were both listening intently.

“So let me get this straight.” Remus said through the computer speakers. “Regulus said he’d turn off one of the cameras that overlooks a side door, sneak you two in, and then help you get both him and Finn out?” He and Sirius were sitting close together at the conference table, sneaking glances at each other when they thought no one was looking.

Leo smiled knowingly. Good for them.

“Yeah.” Logan said as he continued to pace. “Get in, get them, get out. Simple.”

“Well,” Leo said, stretching out the word and watching Logan’s eyes snap to him. Yeah, he wasn’t going to like this. “According to Reg, one of Riddle’s flash drives is there too - in a safe in his office. Logan can get Finn, and I can-”

“No.”

“Logan,” Leo sighed, giving him a look. “After we get Finn out, they’ll put that place on lockdown. We won’t get another shot at getting this drive and you know it. Plus Riddle’s not even there right now. It’s the perfect opportunity.”

“When did he even tell you that?” Logan asked, staring at him incredulously. “I don’t remember this at all.”

“That would be because I’ve been texting him this morning because I knew you’d react like this.” Leo rushed to finish his sentence and be heard over Logan’s loud dissent.

“React how? Logically?”

“Over-protectively.” Leo corrected, watching the aggravation return to his pacing again as he grumbled something under his breath. “If we get this drive, that only leaves the ones Lestrange and Riddle have on them. Reg said he could probably grab the one Bellatrix has - he can replace it with the fake I slipped into his pocket at the gala-”

“Nut, you can’t be serious.”

Leo glared at him. “It’s a perfectly solid plan.”

“And it’s dangerous!”

“Are you forgetting what our jobs are?” Leo asked with an incredulous laugh. “Everything we do is dangerous.”

“Leo.”

The blond looked to the laptop, where Sirius and Loops were looking back at him. “Back me up here.”

Remus glanced over at Sirius, then back to Leo. “It’s risky, but if you feel like you can do it-”

“I can.” Leo said, no room for argument. The kid who was nervously drumming his fingers against his thigh and staring off into space before his first mission was long gone, replaced by a calm, confident agent - who still drummed his fingers on a regular basis, but who was self-assured and comfortable with his role. Logan wasn’t exactly sure when that had happened, but he was proud nonetheless - even if he was still terrified.

“When’s Reg going for Lestrange’s drive?” Sirius asked, in a similar state as Logan. Worried, but knowing he was fighting a losing battle. This was happening whether they liked it or not.

“She puts it in the same spot every night before she goes to bed, so he’ll grab it right before we get there when she’s already asleep. If we go really early in the morning - like really early - everyone should be asleep, save for a few.”

“They’re cocky like that,” Sirius added, “No one’s ever been dumb enough to try to break in, so they won’t be as prepared for it.”

Leo frowned, not sure whether to take offense or not. “Thanks?”

“So how long do you think getting into the safe will take?” Remus asked, keeping all of them on track, as usual. The steadiness and predictability calmed Logan down, just a little.

Leo shrugged. “Don’t know, depends on what kind of safe it is. Reg doesn’t know.”

“So you’re going in blind.” Logan finished, anxiety churning in his gut. That calmness had lasted all of three seconds. He didn’t like this. There was so much that could go wrong; it was risky enough sneaking in to get Finn out of there, but adding this on top of it? What if one of them got caught? What if all of them got caught? What if Regulus wasn’t as trustworthy as Sirius claimed? What if they were just walking into another trap?

What if, what if, what if. There were too many variables to this, too much at risk.

He’d never really hated his job before. In the past he’d loved the suspense, the intrigue, the unpredictability. He’d grown up wanting a career that had action and adventure, just like the movies he and his sisters used to watch. Now all the things he used to love were the things that were stressing him out the most. But then, he’d never had partners before - definitely not partners he was halfway in love with.

He was starting to hate this job now.

Leo’s voice brought him back to the conversation. “Not really. It’s either going to be a digital safe or manual. I’d crack a digital safe the same way I cracked the ones at the banks, and manual safes are kind of like giant locks. I just feel for the sticking points and do the math.”

“There’s math?” Sirius asked, looking disgusted. Logan thought back to Finn saying the exact same words, all three of them squished together on the bed with a nature documentary playing in the background, warm and content and relaxed. No stress, no sense of impending disaster, no one missing.

He wanted that again, more than anything.

He felt like this wasn’t the way to do it, though. Which was ironic, seeing that he was the one who usually wanted to be reckless. That was his M.O. - the rough, hotheaded agent who wasn’t afraid to take some risks. He completely changed his tune when those risks endangered his partners.

He couldn’t lose them - either of them. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if...

But arguing against this rescue mission was like leading a horse to water - pointless. The only thing left to do was to prepare. So Logan tuned the conversation out and started planning for every possible outcome he could think of. He wasn’t going to be left just reacting, not this time. He was going into this with every last detail mapped out, every potential misstep accounted for, every contingency plan organized in his head.

He wasn’t going to let anything go wrong. He couldn’t.

***

The alarm Leo and Logan had set was essentially useless, seeing that it found the two of them already awake, going over the plan in their heads. Logan stretched his arm out to shut it off, then rolled over to look at Leo. Blue eyes were already staring back, alight with optimism- a stark contrast to how Logan was feeling. He just hoped tonight wasn’t the night he would be disappointed.

“We’re going to get him back.” The blond said, no sleepiness to his voice as he softly leaned in to kiss Logan sweetly, then more enthusiastically. Logan let himself get lost in it for a while, a heart-wrenching distraction, accepting kiss after excited kiss with a sigh against soft lips. He took the lead a second later, pushing Leo back into the mattress and pressing their chests together, getting as close as he could manage and relaxing into the warmth.

“And then we’ll all be together again.” He added after a while, trying to reassure both Leo and himself as he kissed a dimple and earned a smile, bright in the early-morning darkness. “And we can finally have that talk.”

Leo hummed happily and pulled him down for one last lingering kiss before shimmying his way out from under Logan and getting to his feet, hair an absolute mess from a night of tossing and turning and Logan’s hands. Logan felt strangely proud of himself for that.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.” Leo chanted, dashing to his suitcase to grab clothes. His enthusiasm visibly shown in every action - brushing his teeth, pulling on his shoes, grabbing his tools. Logan soon found himself dressed and ready to go, turning his earpiece on and testing his mic. His gun was loaded and ready, a comforting weight at his hip. Leo’s voice echoed in his ear as he tested his mic, loud and clear. His tools were all packed up and smuggled away in his pockets, determination written across his face.

They were going to get him back.

Logan pulled up the directions to the address Regulus had sent them and they hurried to their car, blasting the heat as high as it would go to try and defrost the windows. The clock read 4:13 am as they pulled out of the hotel parking lot and headed down the street.

The drive was tense with anticipation and nerves and adrenaline. Leo’s leg never stopped bouncing from the passenger’s seat as he stared out the window, clearly lost in thought because it was still pitch black outside - he definitely wasn’t looking at anything. Logan kept his eyes on the road ahead and his thoughts on their mission, going over the details one last time as the navigation app instructed him to turn right.

The building they were infiltrating was on the very outskirts of Slytherin, somewhat secluded and run-of-the-mill. If Logan wasn’t sure this was the right place, he would never have guessed this to be a Snakes’ building. Which was probably exactly what they were going for.

Logan drove straight past the building, continuing down the road for a while until he figured they wouldn’t raise suspicion. He put the car in park, switched the headlights off, then turned to face his partner.

“You ready?”

The resulting grin was luminous. “You know it.”

Logan nodded, nerves gnawing away at his stomach, and got out of the car. He and Leo snuck around to the southeast side of the building where they found a door, the light above it flickering occasionally. Leo sent Logan a look, then rapped on the door with his knuckles twice.

A few seconds passed by, then the door opened silently. Regulus Black stared back at them, face as impassive as always. The two agents stepped inside without another word, watching as Regulus closed the door behind them and locked it before turning to face them again.

“I’ve got Bellatrix’s drive,” he said, so quietly that Leo and Logan had to lean in a little to hear him. “Snagged it about twenty minutes ago and replaced it with the fake. She’ll never know the difference.”

“Perfect.” Leo grabbed Logan’s forearm, eyes bright and intense. “You go get Finn, I’ll grab the drive. Meet you back at the rendezvous.”

Logan still didn’t like the idea. He didn’t like the thought of being separated. “Leo-”

“No one’s out this early, it’ll be the easiest grab of my life. I’ll be careful - I’ll be so careful, Tremz. You gotta trust me.” He pressed their foreheads together briefly and Logan allowed himself that one moment to close his eyes and press back, inhaling deeply. He still smelled like the hotel’s shampoo, clean and citrusy. After all this, Logan didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget the smell - or the memories that came with it. He couldn’t quite figure out if that was a bad thing or not. Because on the one hand, there was stress and kidnappings and hurt. But on the other hand, there was exciting, brand new kisses and falling asleep in his arms and the comfort of just being with him.

“Make it quick, ok?” he said finally, reluctantly leaning away and meeting blue eyes. Leo nodded, giving his hand a squeeze, and turned to set off down the hallway. Logan only allowed himself half a second to look after him - if he watched any longer, he just knew he’d start chasing after him, blindly following an angel and not caring where he was going. He’d probably follow him anywhere, if he could. He faced Regulus again instead, who was looking decidedly awkward. Logan just raised an eyebrow at him and motioned for him to lead the way.

His heart hammered louder and louder the more they walked, excitement and worry and adrenaline snowballing together and making his head spin. He could hear Leo’s quiet breathing through the coms, measured and steady and constant like the tide pushing and pulling against the shore. That, more than anything he tried to tell himself, calmed him down.

They reached a nondescript door and stopped in front of it. Logan glanced at Regulus, then back at the door. This was it. Finn was on the other side of that door. He was a paradoxical combination of excited and terrified of what he’d find on the other side of that door.

“I’m just going to wait out here,” Regulus said, moving so that his back was against the wall. “I’ve already witnessed you all soft and mushy tonight - I don’t think I can handle seeing it again. I’ll keep an eye out from here.”

Logan sent him a grin, incredibly pleased with himself and completely unashamed.

He took one last, deep breath and opened the door.

The sound of the door must have woken Finn, because the first thing Logan saw was the shifting of shoulder and back muscles as the redhead sat up with an annoyed grumble. “What the fuck is so important that you feel the need to wake me up this early?” He demanded, reaching up to further tousle his hair as he swiveled around to face the door. Their eyes locked and Finn froze, staring at him with his mouth agape and wide, wide brown eyes, one of which was blackened and swollen. There was blood at the corner of his mouth, dark and distracting. Logan’s breath left him in a rush, like he’d been the one punched in the face.

“Lo,” Finn whispered, that one syllable barely loud enough to reach Logan’s ears. He sat up straighter in an instant and continued to stare, as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. “Logan?”

That was all it took to spur Logan into action. He crossed the room in five quick paces and then he was on his knees in front of Finn, reaching for him hesitantly. Finn practically launched himself at him, arms around his neck and holding tight - almost bruisingly. Logan didn’t care. He’d gladly take the bruises if it meant having his partner in his arms again. It hadn’t even been that long since Logan had seen him, but it felt like an entire lifetime. He hugged Finn closer, probably holding him too tight, before leaning back and looking him over. Frantic hands passed over skin and clothing, feeling for injuries.

“You ok?” He asked, reaching up to tilt Finn’s face so that he could examine the black eye and split lip. Calloused fingers traced gingerly over constellations of freckles, marred by purples and greens and yellows. “God, Finn-”

Finn laughed a little, reaching up to still Logan’s hand and pressing it to his stubbled cheek instead. Logan could feel his smile against his palm and melted. “I’m ok. It looks worse than it actually is, I’m sure.”

You’re still gorgeous, Logan thought as he swiped a thumb across his cheek. He wanted to drown in the sight in front of him. Finn wasn’t great but he was ok and considering the circumstances, that was all Logan could really ask for. He was still livid, of course. And the ones who’d hurt Finn would get what was coming for them. That much he could guarantee.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Finn murmured, still leaning into Logan’s touch. Logan just shook his head firmly, eyes serious. How did Finn expect him to leave him behind? He clearly had no idea just how little they could function without him, the gaping hole he’d left in his absence.

Finn looked over Logan’s shoulder, then back to Logan with worried eyes. “Leo?” He asked and let Logan help him to his feet, favoring his left leg. Logan tightened his grip on his biceps and steadied him before answering.

“Currently? In Riddle’s office cracking a safe.”

Leo’s voice, calm and even, came through the coms. “Tell Finn I said hey.” Logan grinned.

“He says hey.”

Finn looked offended. He leaned closer to the mic Logan was wearing at the collar of his shirt, making the brunet still. The expression on his face - a comical combination of panic and turned-on - made Finn smile as he spoke. “You’re breaking me out of here after I was kidnapped and the only thing you can think of to say is hey?”

“Well, I was planning on saving the sentimental shit for when I actually see you.” Leo said distractedly from his spot on the floor in front of a truly ancient safe, rotating the dial slowly and feeling for the last remaining sticking point. “It’s good to hear your voice, though.”

He heard Logan relay the message to Finn, and then Finn’s resulting coo. Leo laughed under his breath at the sound right as the safe opened with a loud click, opening to reveal nothing inside but a blue and gray flash drive.

“I can’t believe this is the only thing he keeps in a safe like this.” Leo grumbled, reaching forward to make the switch-

Right as the office door opened.

Leo whirled around, slipping the real flash drive into his pocket as he faced whoever had walked in on him.

Unnatural yellow eyes stared back.

And a gun was pointed at his chest.

He could tell Riddle recognized him from the party by the curl of his lips that formed the beginnings of a smile. Cold dread washed over Leo at the bizarre sight. He wasn’t sure anyone had seen the leader of the Snakes smile before. If they did, they hadn’t lived to tell the tale. Leo’s heart raced as all he could do was stand there and stare. His gun sat heavily at his hip, but he knew reaching for it would only speed up the inevitable. He stayed still.

Leo’s partners were still talking over the coms, happy and ignorant of the situation going on right down the hall from them. As Leo stared down the barrel of a gun, he thought maybe it was for the best. Riddle wouldn’t react well to breaking Finn out of here, he knew that much. At least this would be a good distraction - if Riddle was focused on him, he wouldn’t be focused on his partners. Maybe they’d be able to get out of here before Riddle even realized the real reason Leo was in the building.

He’d rather die than give either of them up. He was a little scared at the honesty behind that statement… and the likelihood of it happening much sooner than he’d hoped.

Riddle adjusted his sights without saying a single word, finger against the trigger. Leo sucked in a harsh breath and braced himself.

Bang.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #sirius black #remus lupin #o’knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine #cw: injuries #cw: blood #cw: gun violence

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sugoi-writes · 4 years

Note

Question! How in your opinion would fatgum, todoroki, deku and dabi react to their hero s/o getting almost mortally wounded in a fight with an enemy? (they live but they were lucky as hell ) and how do they take care of s/o afterwards?

*cracks knuckles* This is a long one, so buckle up!

TW: violence, bodily harm/body horror, hospitalization.

Scenario: You are in a burning, severely damaged building, helping with evacuation and rescue during a villain attack. As the building starts to collapse, you shove the remaining survivors out, but you fall with the building.

You have several steel pipes stabbing through you (stomach, right arm and leg), leaving you severely bleeding. To make matters worse, you’ve also earned some 2nd degree burns. You make it to the hospital... but how will your s/o react???

Fatgum

More than likely on patrol in another district, Fatgum hears a distress call from Sun Eater, who was making rounds with you.

He and R.R rush over to the scene, and all they see are collapsed buildings, fires, and people being rushed off in stretchers.

There are several heroes helping to fight off a BBEG who has a fire breath weapon/quirk, and super strength. He has countless goonies who are really giving the Pros some trouble.

Fatgum is acting as support, and notices that you were there as well, helping with rescue/evacuation. But Fatgum knows something is off.

As he intervenes, catching someone with his FatTaxi to slow their fall/momentum, he hears you scream,” GO, NOW!!!”

When the building collapses, it takes everything for Fatgum not to rush to the falling building and rubble.

He unfortunately gets caught up in a fight, and ends up having to go on the offensive to help the other Pros.

When all is said and done, Fatgum is in his slim form, completely exhausted. Kirishima is doing his best to help him, supporting his weight. When he sees you before FG, he tries to steer him away. FG, of course, refuses.

With him needing medical attention as well, he somehow manages to get in the same ambulance as you, and the two of you are carted to the hospital as Kirishima stays to help with cleanup.

When you are rushed into the ER for surgery, Fatgum wants nothing more than to be there... but he’s separated, and treated for his own injuries.

When he’s patched up, he spends HOURS outside of the operation wing, wanting to hear something, ANYTHING. He’s on the edge of his seat when Tamaki and Kirishima come to see him. They brought Fatgum some things to munch on, as they know by now that stress eating was one of the only ways to get him back to his jolly state.

It also helped take some edge off of the situation, as Fatgum looked visibly shaken. All he can hear was the sound of your desperate scream before the building started to crumble, constantly replaying in his mind.

When the group of 3 heroes are informed of your stabilized status, they’re all immediately relieved, but the doctor adds that you’d be knocked out until next morning, due to the medication(s) you were on.

When Fatgum is allowed to enter your room, he almost immediately rushes to your side, kissing your hand and gripping it tightly as he watches you breathe, labored and slow. Kirishima and Tamaki can only hover around and try to comfort him, knowing that he’s going to be stubborn, unable to leave your side until you wake up.

Fatgum will just kiss your bloodied, patched up knuckles, smiling shakily as he watches you recover,” ...hopefully you won’t have to see me like this when you wake up...” he says softly. He smiles sadly,” Even if you think it looks pretty hot... Hahaha... haaa...” His head hangs a little lower, his voice softening as he looks back up to your calm, emotionless face,” I could really hound you about not being more careful... but I’m not one to talk. Wake up soon, so I can bring you some takeout and see your smile again...”

When you do wake up, Kirishima is the one to shake Fatgum awake. Being in his slim state still, you’re the first to tense up. However, you start to cough, the tension in your chest making your ribs and stomach hurt. Fatgum pushes up back down, so you can lay back down.

“Don’t get up... I...I know I look rough. But I’m here for you, Gummy Bear. And I’m just glad that you’re okay.”

Todoroki

Todoroki, in the middle of training, gets a call from his sister. She sounds panicked, and urges Todo not to turn on the TV for any reason for the next few hours. Todoroki seems confused, and disregards his sister’s plea.

When he turns on the TV... he sees what’s happening. The burning buildings... the smug grin on the villain’s face... and countless bodies in the streets. The camera pans to several people being carted away on stretchers, and low and behold... you were one of them. You were unconscious, a mask over your face to supply you with fresh oxygen as the air continued to fill with smoke and ash.

Todoroki sprung from his spot, throwing his shoes and coat on almost violently. He knows his father would be on sight, as the Number One Hero, meaning that his agents were too. He makes several desperate calls to try and figure out where you were being taken. After the third attempt, someone finally caves and tells him. Todoroki knew that you were being rushed to the ER, and your surgery would be underway very shortly.

Todoroki is there within 15 minutes, and he immediately runs into his siblings, who were trying to intervene. They knew he would be there, and that he would be distraught.

As his sister tries to calm him, Todo’s breath is chilled the instant he exhales, and his hands are trembling, both of them subtly reflecting their quirks. He was a mess and a mixing pot of emotions. Who was responsible for this mess? Why were you on the scene, in a burning building, all alone? Why didn’t you have back up from the inside???

So many thoughts swarmed around in his head as he silently fumed and despaired, scared that the unthinkable could happen to you. But his siblings tried to keep him calm, talking with him and urging him to try and focus on positive thoughts.

When the doctor strolled out, bearing the mildly good news, Todoroki nearly broke, his hands coming up to his face and he shuddered, not wanting to show that he was in tears. He was relieved. He was furious. He was so scared for you.

The Todorokis were cautious as they walked towards your room. You were still unconscious, with a series of instruments and IVs hooked up to you to keep you stable.

Todoroki could only hesitantly cup your cheeks, watching as your breath fogged up the mask over your face. He sighed shakily, kissing the top of your forehead, careful to not accidentally move you.

“...I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to help you...” he would rasp quietly, while his siblings stepped back,” ...I promise... never to leave your side again. No matter what happens, whatever agency you chose or where you’re assigned... I’ll be there to support you. I’ll never let this happen to you--to either of us--again...”

When you do wake up, Todoroki has both of his hands wrapped around one of yours, his head leaning on the headboard of your hospital bed. His siblings are long gone. When Todoroki slowly starts to wake up, he immediately feels a surge of relief, and kisses the top of your head again, tears flowing freely. This was the Todoroki you knew. The stoic exterior has broken, almost completely, as you lay there, unable to reach up and hug him back. You try to rasp something out, but your voice is shattered from your final screams of agony.

Todoroki calms himself, pulling away briefly as he gives you a very tired, relieved smile,” ..I-It’s going to be alright...I..I’m here now, baby...”

Izuku

Full Cowlings, Detroit and Delaware Smashes... Izuku is going ham on the scene of the incident, acting as a major player on the offensive team. He knows that you are the careful type, and typically trusts your judgements. After all, you were smart and your quirk was unique. The chances of you being in trouble were slim, as long as you had back up.

But as a villain grabbed him by his collar, and violently flung him against a building, he felt the ground beginning to shake. His eyes widened in horror as he narrowly recovered, a villain smashing violently into the compromised building.

He heard you scream, and that was it for him. He crouched down, using as much of OFA as he could, before springing towards your voice. However, this was the perfect window, and another villain snatched him up midair, slamming him back down to the ground below. By the time he covered, the building was already in ruins. Fury surged through him, as he mustered all he could into an obliterating series of kicks and punches, knocking several villains out of his way as he nearly pole vaulted towards you.

Izuku started moving rubble, able to identify where you fell by your wavering voice and hiccups of pain. Uraraka was quick to stop him, as his reckless actions could actually endanger you.

Uraraka lifted the parts of the building that were crushing you, and both she and Deku turned white as snow.

There you were, crumbled and trembling, your voice coming in heavy, wavering pants.

“Pl...Please... don’t... don’t look, Izuku...” you pleaded, immobilized. But Deku was already lunging towards you, barking over his shoulder for help. You started blacking out by this point. All you remember were visions of heroes prying you out safely. Nurses and field staff were carrying you. Lastly, you saw flashes of desperate, green eyes, looking to you in desperation.

“Please, Y/N! Don’t give up! Keep fighting to stay awake!”

However, despite your struggle to keep conscious, you lost the battle, and your vision faded to black. You couldn’t remember how long you slept. But occasionally, you would hear a voice or two, talking to or of you. Maybe it was the doctors... probably All Might, Izuku... all of these voices swirled in your mind as you rested, unable to rouse yourself. You were completely and utterly exhausted.

When you did wake up, All Might stood next to you, clutching his chest in relief. You tried to speak up, but he shushes you quickly, pointing to Izuku.

He was in the hospital bed next to you, almost as messed up as you were. Your heart dropped into your stomach, but All Might ruffled your hair, sighing.

“I understand... your relationship with Young Midoriya. He cares a great deal about you. But, at least for his sake... you need to be careful...” he would comment, shortly after asking you how you were feeling, and what you remember.

“Midoriya, the poor boy... he left straight for the front lines again when another building started to fall. I don’t know how he did it, but he managed to hold up almost half of the building... he saved so many people, but it ended up almost crushing him in the process. And even then... he still climbed up, and screamed that he would protect everyone.”

All Might sat on the edge of your bed,” ...he specifically said that he would protect you, too...”

Your eyes swelled with tears, as you listened to Izuku’s mentor. You were more than familiar with Izuku pushing himself and his body to its absolute limit, but supporting an entire building... that had to take insane mental and physical strength.

“The good news is: he will recover. Slowly, VERY slowly... but surely. The both of you are lucky to be alive. The bad news... is that you will both need pretty intensive care for about a month. But... until then, I was at least able to place him in the same room as you.”

All Might’s cheeks flashed with a small blush, as he sighed and scratched the back of his head,” Kids these days...” he grumbles tiredly, standing up slowly

“Try and get some rest. I’m sure you’ll need it once he wakes up.”

You nod, thanking All Might for the considerate update. You reach out, and are surprised to see that your hand could just barely reach the edge of his bed. You smile sadly, tears running down your cheeks,” ...you idiot... you had to go feral again, didn’t you?”

Dabi

He knew the ins and outs of this operation, as he was familiar with these set of villains initiating the attack. Shigaraki was more than happy to make his own move, using the other attack as a distraction.

Dabi trusted that you would not be in the district, thinking that you would be wrapped up in a boring patrol or worse... paperwork. But boy, was he wrong.

Word got to him quickly, as Toga went undercover, against Dabi’s wishes. Feigning as an innocent bystander, she saw you falling, and ultimately had thought you died. She warned Dabi not to come, and that this was what he gets for getting involved with a Pro Hero.

Dabi did not like that. And Dabi would see to it that you would be safe from now on.

Long after your surgery, in the middle of the night: that was when he appeared.

Many of the staff were long gone, and it had dwindled down to the few souls on the graveyard shift. Many were so tired from the amount of patients they had, hurriedly making their rounds so they could lounge/decompress from the horrors they saw today.

Sneaking through the roof’s entrance, Toga was more than able to snag a new disguise, blood and all. As she strolled through, dressed as one of the nurses. Meanwhile, Dabi was dressed in all black, slinking a few feet behind her with a turtleneck, coat, and shades on.

He would duck into open rooms and corridors should anyone pass, while Toga was more than capable of keeping up her ruse.

When they got to the Post-OP ward, it took only a few tries to find you.

And there you were... laying so weakly, defenselessly on your hospital bed, countless machines hooked onto you. Toga would later regret not taking any of your blood for future use.

Toga locked the door behind them as Dabi closed in on you, reaching out to you,”...Little mouse... it’s time to wake up.”

Your eyelids flutter as a new voice invades your senses, before a cool hand presses to your forehead. You feel Dabi’s hand brush your hair away from your face, before you slam your eyes open.

You practically seize at the sight of him before you, unable to move. You trembled softly, a cautious smile stretching across your lips,” D....Dabi... you can’t... h-how... did you--”

Dabi is swift to cut you off, leaning down to where his lips could almost brush against your oxygen mask.

“That’s something we can discuss later... I have a bone to pick with you, little mouse...” You winced as Dabi’s hand slams against the bed, nearly colliding with you head as you stare back up at Dabi anxiously.

“Do you know... why I’m here?” Dabi asks you calmly, causing you to flush ever so slightly. “I-Is it... because I got hurt...?”

Dabi sighs exasperatedly, looking back to you,” If it were a minor injury, I wouldn’t have bothered... but that little stunt you pulled today almost had you killed,” Dabi practically growls, leaving your heart hammering in your chest. You glance away, unable to deny this.

“I-I know... I... wasn’t thinking clearly. I promise, next time, I won’t--”

“Next time?” Dabi mocks, his brows furrowing. He smirks, a low chuckle erupting in his chest,” Little mouse, there will be no ‘next time’...”

You blink with confusion as Dabi leans closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear,” ...as soon as you’re recovered... as soon as you get out of this god forsaken place... you’re coming with me. And you will never. Ever. Leave my side again.”

You try to protest as you feel his hot breath against your ear, trembling. It would be even more dangerous to stay with him. A Pro Hero and a villain being in a relationship secretly is one thing... but between all of the times that you or him covered for one another, leaked confidential information, or... been in the same bed... you would both be done for if word got out.

“...Toga-kun here... is willing to bust you out with me... You will not be forced to join The League. But we will house you, while you go on a permanent Hero’s Hiatus. You will take the time you need to recover. And you will NOT. Leave the base... unless I say so... because I can’t trust you to act with your best judgement safely.” Dabi laughs, but his laughter quickly died to a weak chuckle,” ...don’t you get it...? I nearly lost you again today.”

Dabi’s voice wavers momentarily, before his eyes hardened again. You shrink under his gaze, as his eyes burrow into yours,” ...and I’m not going to risk losing you again. Even if I have to take matters into my own hands... and force you to be an obedient, careful little pet...”

You shudder at his words, wincing in pain shortly after. Dabi’s expression softens for a moment, as he removes the mask covering your face momentarily.

He leans down, placing a chaste kiss to your lips, before slowly pulling away. You swore that Dabi’s eyes were glassy. But before you could call him out on this, Dabi let go of your face mask. It reconnects with your face suddenly, stinging as it violently settles back in place.

Dabi smiles, the snap of the elastic amusing him. You looked disgruntled, and he wouldn’t mind seeing you that way more.

“...I’ll be back for you soon, babe... so make sure... that you take extra care while I’m gone.” Dabi rumbles lowly, pinching your cheek before standing upright. Toga gives him a nod, telling him that the coast is clear. And just like that, Dabi and Toga slip out without a trace, leaving your mind spinning and your chest heaving.

(Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! <3)

#todoroki shoto x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #fatgum x reader #dabi x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #angst #tw: violence #tw: body horror #tw: gore #tw: hospitalization #tw: yandere

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Partners {7}*

OA Zidan/Zeeko Zaki x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Angst, Drama, Action, Multiple POV changes, Talk and Mild depiction of Sex Trafficking, Racism Implied, Possibly Triggering Content, Character Drugging, Violence, Groping, Implied Blood, Plot, Mild NSFW, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 9k

Summary: You’re a damn good FBI agent in your own right. It is definitely partly to do with how well you’ve been trained and partly to do with you not letting anything or anyone distract you. You have a six-year plan that you’re fast-tracking for four. After being transferred from your office in Tampa, you’ve been sent to New York, which you’ve labeled the “big leagues.” Your first day there, after being introduced to your new partner OA Zidan you realized you’ve moved out of the frying pan right into the pot of distraction. A year later and your growing attraction for your partner still hasn’t been snuffed out.

Note: This is a first for me writing about a TV show and interjecting into it. Let’s see how this goes. I hope you guys enjoy this. As always, thank you for reading.

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***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

~~~~~~~~~~~

The slinkiness of the dress was not missed by you. Your fingers noticed it once you pulled it from the shopping bag. It was a pretty dress. You checked yourself in the mirror of the bathroom again, turning in every direction so you could see how you looked in a dress you probably would have chosen for yourself in Miami. The black sequins looked good against your skin, and the accent gold chains around your neck that draped down your body between your breasts made them look even more inviting than usual. You wondered who’d picked this dress. While you looked good, if you had to run, it would probably be a matter of time before you had a nip slip or a full-on boob pop out.

You took a deep breath, released it, and leaned closer to the mirror to peer deeper into your eyes. Your nerves were beginning to get the better of you.

“You can do this, Y/N. You’ve done this before. It’s not a big deal. You know the drill. You. Got. This!”

Taking a final breath, you stepped back, rearranged the neck of the dress, checked your make up then nodded to yourself, pleased at the final product. As you walked out of the bathroom and down the hall of the JOC, you tried to mentally psych yourself up. It had been a year since you’d done any undercover work and the nerves never really went away. Once you stepped into the common area where all your coworkers centered, one by one, the eyes drifted to you.

From the right, you heard a whistle. When you turned, it was Scola.

“Agent Y/L/N.”

You rolled your eyes then scoffed.

“Watch it, Scola.”

He lifted his hands in defeat as you walked up to Jubal, Kristen, OA, and Isobel. OA’s eyes slowly raked along your body, taking in every detail.

“This is as good as it’s gonna get,” you joked.

“You look incredible,” Isobel complimented.

“Eh, it’s just a dress. By the way, who picked this out?”

“That would be Kristen’s handiwork,” Jubal said with a smile as he bumped his shoulder into Kristen’s. You picked up on the way she smiled back at him before she focused on you.

“I see I picked right. I knew you had what was needed to carry it.”

“All right, all right,” you pushed out, trying to change the subject. “Are we ready to move?”

“Yes. We’re meeting our informant at a pickup spot near the heights. Let’s move people,” Jubal drilled.

Everyone went into motion, preparing to leave. The elevator ride was chatter filled as Jubal, Kristen, and Isobel listed things off from the file you had to remember. While your brain was functioning and focused on them, your body was also functioning and focused on OA, who was beside you with his hands clutched one over the other in front of him while he stared at the dial. Though he wasn’t looking at you, your body could feel the energy coming off of his body, and it was responding.

Once you piled into the van, you situated as Lim began explaining the intricacies of the few gadgets you wore, including mics in your diamond earrings, surveillance cameras embedded into the golden chains of the dress, and two chip trackers inside the ring, and an emergency explosive. You were impressed, and you let him know it. Lim was adorable. He always looked surprised to hear a compliment on how well he did his job or that someone noticed. You always made it a point to tell Lim how good of a job he was doing. You believed it was necessary to praise people when they deserved it, especially if you saw it.

You tried to retain the information you read in the files, along with the faces you saw. You knew the key to undercover work was memorizing as much as you could. Your success in Miami was because you were good with retaining information, thinking quickly on your feet, and solving things with small details that others would not have thought of. Your nerves were beginning to pick up, and you knew it was because while you’d been in a similar undercover situation before, this was a different monster. Whereas the sex club was a dangerous environment, it was a closed environment. With this operation, many variables would be left up to chance, and that were ever-changing. That meant more risk.

You tried not to look at OA. You didn’t want to give him any indication that you knew he was right and that this was too dangerous. Your father’s words echoed in your head.

“In this world, because of the color of your skin and your sex, you have to be twice as good and work twice as hard to get to where others would easily get to. You have to never show weakness. They will look for it because you’re a woman.”

Clenching your jaw, you straightened your posture and did your best to clear your mind. This assignment wouldn’t break you, thought to yourself over and over.

Fifteen minutes later, the van pulled up at the meet location that Jubal’s informant would come to get you to add to the shipment of women. After Lim checked that you were good with how the gadgets worked and were comfortable operating them, he gave you a comforting pat on the shoulder, a gentle squeeze, and a soft smile that spoke of his confidence in you. As he made a move to get out of the van, he stopped and came back to you.

“Can I say something I’ve always wanted to tell you?”

You nodded.

“Since you came to join us here, I’ve admired you. I think you’re smart, smarter than a lot of people I’ve worked with. You’ve impressed me more times than I can count, and I’m not in the least worried about you knocking this out of the park. Remember how badass you are.” He added a wink that made you smile.

“Thank you, Ian.”

“Anytime, Y/N. You’re—you’re great—you’ll be great.”

With that, he walked out and closed the doors behind him, leaving you and OA. You couldn’t help but smile. He was sweet.

“I think Ian’s got a crush,” OA uttered slightly under his breath.

“Oh, stop it.”

He approached you with his arms held out to you. Once he was close enough, his hands latched onto your waist.

“Should I be worried?”

You snorted then rose to meet his eyes. “You tell me. Should you?”

OA studied you for a few moments before he answered.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should.”

The warmth from his hands was working to calm some of your nerves. You sighed out, placed your hands on his forearms, and then traced patterns into his exposed skin.

“Don’t be jealous.”

“Ya know something; I didn’t think I was a jealous man—before now,” he replied.

You stared at each other, neither of you speaking. After several long moments, you looked down. OA tipped your chin up, so you looked at him.

“I feel I have to say something right now,” OA began.

You quirked your eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“You look—incredibly gorgeous.”

Slowly your lips spread into a wide smile that got wider and wider.

“I can’t believe the first time I see you like this is for a sting operation rather than our first date.”

The butterflies began fluttering in your gut, making your knees go weak. You slouched back on the cold table that lined the side of the van. OA’s hands slid down to your hips and squeezed. The action did nothing for the fluttering in your belly, but it helped to stabilize you.

“Well—maybe you’ll actually get that first date if you get the balls to finally ask for it,” you teased.

OA’s smile began small until you were staring at his perfect teeth. With no hesitation, he lowered his lips to yours for a sweet kiss that he took control of. His lips trailed down your jaw and back to your ear where be nibbled and licked along its shell. With every lick, the butterflies in your gut fluttered more rapidly, and with every nibble, your sex throbbed. You couldn’t believe you were getting turned on at a time like this.

“Are you okay?”

His whisper against your ear made you sigh. It was the question you were dreading. Mustering as much gusto as you could, you put on a tough exterior.

“I’m fine. As I said, it’s no big deal and nothing I haven’t done before.”

The more you spoke, the less you believed your own words. When you looked at OA, he didn’t even look to believe your words.

“You don’t have to play tough with me. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying and when something isn’t as it seems.”

OA moved his hands from their place on your hips to buckle behind you at the small of your back. His long fingers splayed across your bare skin, making any cold shell you were trying to wear melt away. You sighed again.

“Okay, I am nervous, but it’s jitters. Everyone gets em’.”

OA kissed your forehead and kept his lips there for a few seconds. “I know you can do this. It’s never been a question of if you could. It was always, should you? I know you’ve got this because you are the most incredible agent that I’ve known in a long time. You’re smart, quick on your feet, charismatic, and don’t even get me started on what an amazing profiler you are. Plus, your right hook and roundhouse is a thing of beauty.”

You giggled, then lowered your head to his collar. Even in heels, he was still slightly taller than you. His chuckle vibrated against your forehead, and the tension in the van automatically decreased. When your laughs subsided, you bit your bottom lip and thought about your next words carefully.

“If this goes south,” you began before OA pulled you back so he could look at you.

“It won’t.”

“If it does,” you tried again.

OA cupped your jaw and slid his thumb along your lips until it was in the center, silencing you.

“It won’t. You got this, and I have your back. We all do.”

For some reason, that touched you more now than it ever had before. He always had your back, and so did the team. That was what a team was. You tried to keep your emotions in check, but the longer you saw the compassion in his eyes that felt more and more like something more intimate than compassion, the more your emotions went haywire. You crushed your body to his for a hug. Resting your cheek against his chest, you listened to the drum of his heart, hoping it would soothe you as it had less than twenty-four hours ago.

“Let me get this out, Omar,” you whispered, feeling your heart race.

“If things go south, I want you to know I have loved every single minute that I’ve been your partner. Thank you for making me a better agent, and thank you for helping me see sometimes following your heart can lead to great things,” you said, somehow able the keep your voice from shaking.

Before you could slow your racing heart, OA pulled you back again and crashed his lips to yours, making it race even more. You happen to open your eyes at the same moment he did, and while your lips danced together, your eyes spoke words that had been left unspoken in your heart.

It took just seconds for OA’s hands to drop to your hips again and yours to begin to quickly fight with the belt he wore. As OA squeezed your hips and moaned against your lips, you managed to free him of his belt and undo the buttons of his pants. When OA’s hands slipped to your backside, he gripped it with such a roughness you knew his need and how closely it mirrored yours. His hands quickly pulled at the fabric of the dress, inching it up over your hips to reveal your thonged ass to the cold surface of the table.

Finally free of his pants, he turned you, so you now faced the wall of the van. You bent forward, bracing your hands on the table as OA freed his member. When you felt him rub himself against your slit, you shuddered and anxiously anticipated the feel of his intrusion. As he slowly slid into you, connecting your bodies inch by inch, one hand gripped your hip, and the other covered your mouth in time to muffle the deep moan you let out.

OA sucked in a shuddered breath, then groaned. Once he was buried to the hilt, he circled his hips, making goosebumps erupt all over your skin. OA lowered his lips to your shoulder, bit down on your flesh then began thrusting in and out of you. While his movements were slow, the force with which he rocked into you was intense. Within seconds he’d sped his movements and the force that he flicked his hips. With every move forward, it was powerful enough to have your entire body jerk from it. In no time, you’d begun rocking along with him. When he retreaded, you did too, only to slam back onto him, taking all of him.

You could tell your movements were driving OA crazy because of the tightness of his grip on your body. He hovered over your back and went to your ear.

“Habibi,” he whispered. “Aikhtar,” he groaned. “Eshq,” he panted.

It took those three words to bring you to the horizon of your orgasm, and he must have known it because he sped up, slamming into you, filling you completely. It only took a few thrust and the cup of his large hand against your sex for you to whimper. As his fingers strummed your pearl, heightening your arousal making you more desperate for your release. It wasn’t long before OA was marking you as his from the inside out.

Slowly both of you came down from your euphoric cloud. Your breathing evened out, the tremble of your body slowed, but your heart still pounded, and you knew it was just for him. Within a few minutes, OA had you dressed and presentable again, and when he was the self-controlled and professional Agent Zidan again, he pulled you against him.

“I’m going to do everything and anything needed to make sure we get to have that date,” he said while gazing into your eyes with such intensity you knew he meant the words he spoke. “Anything,” he repeated for emphasis.

Before you could speak, there was a knock on the van, signaling that the informant had arrived and it was showtime. OA pressed his forehead to yours for a few seconds, then kissed your nose before he backed off. You turned to the table, looking into the purse you had, and reapplied your lipstick. When you were sure you were good, you and OA hopped out of the van to join the team with them none the wiser.

“I really wish we could put a wire on you, but I think you know what we can’t,” Isobel said.

“I get it. I’ll probably go through a strip-search,” you filled in. Once you said it, you heard OA grumble.

“We have the jewelry surveillance, so you’re not alone in there. We can’t talk to you, but we can hear and see what you do,” Jubal assured.

You nodded as you went over the file one last time. Over your quiet surroundings, you all heard the signal. You gave them a nod being careful not to look at OA before you walked away from them. You didn’t think you could handle that. After taking a few steps, though, you looked back at him. He stood there with his arms crossed across his broad chest with the deepest scowl on his face that accompanied his tightly clenched jaw. Deciding to test the tech, you said the one thing you knew you could that only he would get.

“My back, your back, we got that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

-OA-

He hated this more than he hated the stares he got his first few weeks at Quantico. Those weeks were a different hell. It was a hell that tested everything he knew about himself and how who he was would connect to his work—if it could connect. Because of his culture and heritage, he got a lot of flack. He’d had to work twice as hard to prove himself even though he’d done two tours in Iraq and had earned his dues and proven himself as an asset. This hell, though, it gripped his heart tighter than anything else. He wondered if it was because what he had to lose was just way in life. If he failed, he would have to live with the shame. Now, if this failed, he’d have to live with much more. Regret. Heartbreak. They were two things he didn’t want any part of. It was your fault.

He’d fallen in love with his partner. It was the first rule in the book. The first rule that was drilled in his head in every line he went into. In the Rangers, it was don’t get involved with your peers or form any personal or intimate connections with informants or those in the field. In the DEA, it was, go by the book and don’t get involved with anyone on any level. He’d learned how challenging and intricate undercover work was there. Here he was after all these years and all his life experiences throwing the book away, setting ablaze first, though.

He listened to the informant drill you on everything you needed to know as he walked you to the truck you’d be in. In the back of the van with Isobel, Kristen, Jubal, and the rest of the team, he felt like he was sitting on pins and needles, but he couldn’t show any of it. He knew if he showed too much concern, it would raise curiosity about your relationship's true nature. He had to remain calm and neutral enough for a partner and not venture into the realm of the concerned lover.

You were so good that as the truck drove with you in the back, you sang a song in French. It wasn’t just any song, though. You fed them intel of everything that was around you, how many other girls were in the back, their descriptions, scents, and any other piece of information that would help with the case. Everyone around him looked pleased, and he knew Isobel was relieved. You were showing in less than an hour why you were the right person for the job.

“She’s got this,” Jubal said aloud while nodding his head and snapping the rubber band against his wrist, a nervous tick he’d noticed when Kristen was injured in the hospital.

At the thought of Kirsten, he looked across to her. she was sitting with Ian, and the two were talking closely, most likely about the case, but it made him look back to Jubal for his reaction. The look on Jubal’s face didn’t give much away, but being a good profiler, he picked up on a few things. Jubal didn’t look to like how close they were. He wondered then if you and he weren’t the only ones who were fraternizing.

The puzzle gave him something to occupy his mind instead of him worrying and thinking of worst case scenarios, and he was glad for it. After almost forty minutes, your reporting notified that the truck had stopped and everyone was being led out.

“Here we go, people,” Isobel notified.

The tension in the van returned tenfold as everyone’s attention went to the screens. He tagged the route the truck had taken thanks to the tracking devices you wore and calculated the quickest route to you in case things went south. He watched the feed you expertly gave. You made sure to turn in every possible direction so you could give them a quick lay of the land. Every angle Ian and Kirsten tagged, they let out an audible “yes.” You were making everyone’s job easier.

You were led into a large house. The interior was decorated richly. The techs worked to make connections with everything in the feed, artwork, photos, and even furniture. Any of it could lead to a break. You stopped for a second, then bent forward, bringing a clear photo of four men into the frame.

“Get that picture scrubbed. I want to know everything about all of them, even their childhood pet’s name. Come on, people. Let’s get Y/N out of there in under twenty-four hours,” Jubal drilled.

The van came alive with chatter and activity, and he focused more intently on the feed. With his fingers steepled underneath his bearded chin, he tried to stay present.

“File in here, ladies. You know the drill. Inspection.”

He clenched his jaw, hating what that sounded like. He continued watching the feed. He took in the details of the room and guessed they were holding the women in a basement. The women around the room were all dressed in their best. He’d clocked bruises on some and small injuries on others. Having worked an undercover case like this one, he knew the ones with small injuries were probably the older ones that had been acquired over a year ago while the ones with bruises were newer. In situations like these, the older ones, because of their wear and tear, were abused more. They were usually kept on reserve for those with particular tastes. They were deemed the expendable ones.

When the men approached you, they brought you into another room where two men were waiting. Once they laid eyes on you, they whistled and made catcalls at you.

“Wow. We have an exotic one.”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Dulce,” you replied.

“Ah, you were brought in with Snake, part of the special shipment from Florida. He said very good things about the women in that shipment.”

The man approached you and slowly walked around you before he stopped in front again.

“Where you from, honey?”

“I can be from anywhere you like.”

“she’s good,” Isobel voiced. “She knows giving men like that control means appeasement.”

“So you’re a people pleaser, huh.”

“Absolutely sugar. I please people,” you replied.

The men laughed together before exchanging glances.

“Well, Dulce, we gotta search you, so be a good girl as I—sample the goods.”

He watched the man approach you. He didn’t know if he could stomach watching, but he didn’t look away.

“Ah, very nice.” He sounded like the sleaziest of perverts, and his anger flared.

The air in the vibe went from tense to uncomfortable. They all knew what was happening. He was glad he couldn’t see your face. As soon as he thought it, you were moved, and you now stood in front of a mirror, and your reflection was now what he saw. The man in a burgundy button-down and black slacks was before you—on you. He walked behind you then brought his hands around to cup your breasts.

“Son of a--.”

Clenching his jaw, he continued watching. The sleazeball's hands slid down your abdomen.

“Everyone look away,” Isobel ordered.

He did not. When he saw the asshole’s hand creep to your crotch, he was ready to end this whole thing. The look on your face was a detached one. You didn’t look as if it phased you.

“Hey! What’re you doing? She’s for the boss. No one is to touch her.”

The informant came into the frame just in time before the perv groped you any further.

“I’m sure Boss would want us to make sure she’s clean.”

“You’re just trying to get your rocks off. You know how he feels about the first touch. Should I tell him that you dirtied his entertainment for the night?”

The two men faced off, but the informant didn’t back down.

“You’re lucky you’re so high up, Snake.”

“Shut the fuck up. Know your place. You, out.”

You walked to the door with Snake behind you. While everyone else in the room released a relieved sigh, he didn’t. This was but a tiny victory. There would be many more tests and close calls before the night was done.

“I’ll get you to the bathroom upstairs. It is next door to the office. You have three minutes. Use them wisely. I’ll be back to bring you to them.”

A little while later, you walked into the bathroom and released a breath. He could tell you forgot about the camera on you as you allowed your nerves to show—just a little. He wished he could be there to help in any way you’d let him, but he wasn’t. He even wished you could hear him. After a fifteen or twenty second reprieve, you were sneaking out the bathroom door to the office next door. Once inside, you began rummaging through cabinets, drawers, folders, and even the trash, giving them a glance at anything you came across. You moved so quickly that each analyst worked on each piece of data your lens came across.

“I think I found something,” you said, opening a folder with the letters “NDB” tapped across its cover. You flipped through the pages giving them two or three seconds each page to capture it in a screenshot.

“Yes, Y/N, that’s it,” Jubal cheered on.

“That has to be a record with getting in,” Isobel said more to herself than anyone else.

“It looks like these are future plans. I have names, dates, locations, pictures even.”

“That’s all we need, right,” Kristen inquired.

“I mean,” Jubal began.

“No. while this is good, we need a clear shot of them all in the room and to hear talk about any attack as well as get them in some sort of incriminating situation. With that, we got 'em dead to rights,” Isobel clarified.

“Fuck!”

It was an outburst he hadn’t expected. He’d been trying to hold it together, but the thought of you being there any longer really was not sitting right with him. the eyes in the van trailed to him. No doubt they were shocked to see him lose his cool. No one said anything about it, though. He watched as you snuck out of the office after putting everything back to make it in the bathroom. Once the bathroom door clicked shut, Snake was there to retrieve you.

“Change of plans. You girls are meant to be eye candy. Sort of like a look but don’t touch event. He likes to use this as his foreplay. Keep a cool head, and remember you’re not trying this on for the day. You live this. Act accordingly.”

~~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

Snake led you into another part of the house that was filled with girls and about ten men that were being entertained by the chosen girls. You looked around, clocking your exits and the possible escape routes first, then took inventory of the girls and finally the men. Snake left your side but not before giving you a stern look as if to remind you that your life was not the only one at stake here. You didn’t need a reminder.

Your encounter in the room was a quick reintroduction that woke your ass up to the real dangers that you’d now found yourself in. Back in Miami, you’d found yourself in a similar situation, and the only way you were able to get through it was to detach from it. You mentally put yourself in the frame of mind of a different person and became them. It made it easier. You knew it was what you would have to do now.

“Dulce, Dulce, Dulce, Dulce,” you whispered to yourself before you took a deep breath and slowly released it. When you did, you decided to fake it until you had it. Your first move was to take a lap around the room. You still had to locate the SVU agent on no intel. The department was reluctant to share any information for fear of a leak because of the case's sensitive nature and how long their agent had been undercover. So you were running on nothing but the assurance that if possible, they would make contact.

One lap turned to two, but before you could do a third, one of the men approached you, cornering you.

“Why hello. I haven’t seen you before.”

You pasted on a sugary sweet smile and leaned against the wall. “Oh, no? I’m new.”

The man smiled, giving you a chill.

“I like new. I like to break in the new thoroughbreds.”

He grabbed your wrist and began dragging you through the room. His grip was tight, but you didn’t make a sound. You could see he was dragging you toward a couch. From the corner of your eye, you saw one of the girls watching you. Her long brunette hair framed her face, and her plum-colored lipstick gave her a youthful glow. Before you could take in any more details, the man dropped onto the couch and released your wrist.

“Dance.”

You hesitated, caught off guard by his actions and the command.

“All right, darlin, no need to get rough.”

You swayed from side to side in front of him in slow movements using the time to formulate a plan. Slowly you turned your back to him as you began winding your waist. It was then you noticed a dangerous looking man across the room also watching your every move. Snake approached him, whispered, and nodded in your direction. Bingo, you thought. Adding to the show you were putting on, you trailed your hands along your body and beginning at the outer parts of your thighs, up along your hips. When you reached your stomach, you brought them up to cup your breasts, all the while staring at the man across the room. Turning from him and back to the younger gentleman on the couch, you smiled, bit your bottom lip, and winked.

“You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?”

You nodded.

“Do you know what naughty girls get?”

You shook your head.

“This.”

The man gripped his appendage and shook it for emphasis.

“Come get this cock, slut.”

As he lunged for you, you saw Snake approach. He whispered to the man before he made contact, and the look on his face went from lust riddled to fearful. He straightened his clothes, then walked away.

“he says get a glass of champagne and sit.”

You took the glass of champagne that Snake offered you and sat on the now empty couch. You knew that you had him on the hook. You’d expected it to be more work than that. For the next few hours, on the couch was where you remained. You watched every immoral thing the men did to the women and sat through it all. The first hour was difficult because every injustice you saw you wanted to remedy, but by hour two and three, you’d found a way to tune it out.

A few hours later, you were brought over to the boss. You recognized him from the pictures in the files. His eyes roamed your body, taking in every detail. It was a full two minutes before he spoke.

“You name.”

“Dulce.”

He chuckled. “Ha, the Spanish word for sweet. Are you sweet?”

“That’s for you to find out, I guess.”

No words followed. The way he looked at you made your skin crawl. It was the look of a true psychopath. He was the worst kind, though, a hypocritical one, one that sought to subjugate that which he hated. He preached up and down how whites were the superior race, and any others were inferior and seen as dirty, but here he was eying you like he planned to give you a thorough cavity search knowing damn well your skin was not white.

You took in the details and learned his ticks. From the way his jaw flinched every few minutes to the way he held on to the arm of the chair, you knew he was trying to hold tightly to something inside of him. Men like this often had a secret side to them.

“Sit.”

Doing as you were told, you sat. He continued his conversation. Again the girl with brunette hair caught your eye. She was watching every move you made, and that fact alone told you she was the SVU agent. It was a hunch, an unproven one. The mention of an attack had your attention going back to the man seated beside you. His hand came out to clasp your upper thigh. His fingers between your crossed legs holding on as if he owned you. Men like him always thought people were property to own, use, then trade.

“Just make sure everything goes off without a hitch. We’ve worked too long for his, and too many lives have been lost for it all to be for naught.”

“Don’t worry. As we speak here, they are setting up the event location. By this time tomorrow, we’ll have our victory. That is why we’re here tonight—to celebrate.”

You hoped those in the van got that.

“Maybe it’s time to take your turn,” one of the men suggested.

The Boss’s eyes landed on you before he brought them to his hand on your thigh. “Soon. You go sit there,” he ordered.

You stood and walked over to the brunette who’d been watching you for the last few hours and sat beside her. You didn’t want to give yourself away, so you said nothing. In undercover work, you never knew who had flipped. Pretending to be someone else twenty-four-seven took its toll, and many blurred the lines forgetting who they really were. You didn’t know if she was one of them. If she were, she’d give you up in a heartbeat.

Instead of giving yourself up, you decided to play it cool and observe. One way or another, she would show who she really was. The scene before you quickly got old. No one touched you or the Burnett you sat beside. It was like they all knew their place and didn’t even dare question it. They didn’t touch you, but they sure watched. You’d caught so many of them eye-fucking you it was seriously making you sick. For a second, your mind ran on OA and if he’d seen the scene in the backroom. As quickly as your mind dashed to him, you forced it away. Clear head, you reminded yourself. The easiest way to end up dead was to lose focus.

A middle-aged man in grey suit pants and a matching grey button-down that was unbuttoned one too many buttons stopped in front of the two of you. He smiled and eyeballed the brunette first, then you.

She kissed her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Keep walking, Pete. Even you’re not dumb enough to touch one of Lowball’s treats. You know he likes them clean, and you also know what he’ll do to ya if he sees one print.”

This so-called Pete rolled his eyes, sighed, then walked away mumbling something underneath his breath.

“Loser,” she finished.

That was when your eyes met.

“You’re new.”

“What of it?”

She smiled, then continued chewing her gum.

“What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Dulce.”

“Ah, I like sweet things.”

She trailed her pointer up over your exposed knee until it made it’s way to the hem of your short dress. Once there, it lingered, seductively tracing the hem.

“Your print doesn’t count?”

She smiled, then leaned to your ear. Her lips were close enough for you to feel them.

“Nope. He likes to watch. Take a look.”

You slyly glanced to the one she’d called Lowball, and sure enough, he was watching the two of you like a hawk on his perch.

“See. He gets off on it, especially if the new treat has to be broken in. Do you?”

You turned to look at her, your lips were centimeters apart, but you didn’t back down.

“Do I what?”

She smiled, bit her bottom lip then spoke. “Need to be broken in.”

You slowly smirked then bit your own bottom lip. Two can play this game.

“Depends on who’s doing the breaking,” you replied.

The brunette smiled, then closed the gap between you, pressing her lips to yours. Before you knew it, she was taking charge of a sultry kiss. She rolled her tongue around yours then sucked. As she did, you felt her hand cup your breast. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you also knew that was the wrong instinct. This was a test. You allowed her to kiss you, then battled her for control. After a minute, the kiss was still going, but once you thought of it, she pulled away, sucking her bottom lip.

“Was I your first?”

You gave her a faux shy smile. “No”

She smiled wider.

“Hey, lowball. This stallion is a certified good time.”

She looked away from you for a few seconds and looked to Lowball before she smiled wider.

“Let’s go.”

You allowed her to lead you by the hand through the room filled with sex and drugs until you were in a hall. Neither of you spoke, and when you looked behind you, there was Lowball with his eyes on you.

“I’m Tommi, by the way,” the brunette said with a smile.

Soon you walked inside of a bedroom that was made of luxury but built for a sleaze. The room was filled with glass and leather. It even smelled like leather. The more you walked into the room, the more detail you took in. The linen on the bed was black silk, and there was even a mirror above the bed.

“Go get ready, Tommi. Let me have five minutes with this beauty.”

Your gut tensed, and Tommi hesitated, looking at Lowball.

“Aww, you’re going to have fun without me, daddy?”

Her whine was loud. Lowball smiled.

“Don’t worry, angel, I promise you’ll be here for the fun stuff.”

Tommi glanced at you, then back to Lowball, then shrugged as she walked to another door inside the bedroom. Before she closed the door behind her, you noticed her hand making fists in a staggered pulse pattern. Instantly you recognized it as a common sign you’d learned at Quantico. It meant you’re not alone or among friends. Tommi was the undercover agent with SVU. You looked to Lowball who stared at you as if he were trying to figure you out and unnerve you. You wouldn’t let it work.

“Dulce, cute name. how are you going to prove it?”

“The easiest way to find out if something is sweet is to taste it,” you teased, uncrossing and crossing your legs again.

His eyes dropped to them, and that was where they remained. After too long, he stood and walked over to the bar. You heard the clinking of glass and crystal and anxiously waited for either him or Tommi to come back in. when he turned to you again, he held two glasses filled with a brown liquid. When he sat again, you watched him dig into his pant pocket and come back out with a small clear packet with white powder inside of it.

Fuck, you thought. Many perps who operated sex trafficking rings liked to string their girls out before spending time with a perp. The gossip was the drugs always made the girls more compliant and easier to take advantage of. You watched him pour the contents into one of the glasses. Your stomach fell.

“Oooh, daddy, now we’re really starting this party,” Tommi interjected as she crossed the room dressed in a sexy burgundy lingerie set.

“Mmm, you look, wonderful angel,” Lowball complimented.

He held out the glass that was substance-free to Tommi and held the one that he’d just laced to you. You hesitated. You knew precisely what the plan was after you drank that, and depending on what it was, you had thirty minutes before your choices would no longer be your own.

“There are two ways out of this room, Dulce. Covered in, or filled with my superior cum or dead. Your choice,” Lowball informed.

Tommi caught your eye. She sat on Lowball’s knee, rubbing his arm, but her eyes were dark.

“Take a ride with me, Dulce,” she chimed.

Sighing, you took the glass and swirled the liquid around, examining how undetectable whatever it was he’d poured in was. You downed the drink in one rise and tried to keep from vomiting. Shit was about to get real, you thought.

Lowball smiled then stood, making Tommi stand as well.

“Good job Dulce. I knew you’d see it my way,” he said before he walked away to the door.

“I’ll be back in as much time as it takes that to kick in. You girls have some fun.

The door closed behind him, and you gasped. Tommi was beside you in seconds. She dipped a little lower to come face to face with your earrings.

“She’s just ingested Rolong. It’s a nastier version of Rohypnol these assholes craft themselves. You have thirty maybe forty minutes to figure out a way to grab control of this sting, or else your girl will find herself in a situation she won’t be able to avoid.”

She looked at you, and though she looked relatively calm, you could still see some sort of panic in her eyes.

“I have this.”

She dug in her cleavage and pulled out a syringe. You had no idea how she’d concealed it for its size.

“What—what is this?”

“It’s adrenaline. It’s not much, and it won’t have a big of an impact as I’d like, but it will help with the effects. It’ll buy us maybe fifteen minutes,” Tommi explained.

“Fine.”

You held out your arm, giving her permission to inject you.

“It’ll work better to your thigh.”

Tommi pulled up your dress to find the right spot, then lowered the needle. Before she inserted the tip into your skin, she looked back at you. You gave her a nod to proceed. The injection's sting was sharp, and it felt as if it continued to go for so long.

“Here we go,” Tommie whispered before she administered the medical cocktail.

The burn in your thigh began almost immediately. It was a burn that increased, a burn that intensified until it felt like a terrible muscle spasm without the pain. Once the burn subsided, you could have sworn you felt the drug course through your body. It could have been your imagination or the effects of the other drug you’d ingested. You didn’t know.

“In a minute or two, you’ll feel like you’ve stuck your finger in a socket. Try to remain calm. Remember, when he returns, he will be expecting you to be disoriented and pliable. You have to play along, or he will know something is not right. Do you understand me?”

You nodded though your head felt heavy, and you felt as if you were about to topple over any minute. The woman in front of you was no longer clear or alone. There looked to be three or four of her. You tried to snap yourself out of it, and that was when you felt your heart begin to race. It began beating ten times faster than it had before. The only other time you recalled it beating like this was with OA. You heard Tommie speak again, but you didn’t quite understand what she said. It sounded muffled and distorted as if her voice was from a static transmission.

“Come, you have to be ready by the time he gets back,” Tommie said.

She walked over to the bench in the bedroom and returned with a black two-piece lingerie set along with a pink robe. This was not new to you. Men like these liked to see their prize displayed in as little clothes as possible. You dressed with Tommi’s help. With each passing minute, you felt the effects of both the adrenaline and the drug. Also, with each passing minute, your movements became slower and slower.

Once you were changed, you looked at yourself in the mirror, and you looked ready to seduce any man. You staggered to the bed and then dropped onto it, unable to even carry the weight of your own body anymore. Tommi sat beside you and opened her mouth to say something but the door suddenly opened. Tommi laid on top of you and whispered for you to play along. She nuzzled your neck while caressing your thigh.

“Don’t let me interrupt. I think I’ll watch for a moment,” Lowball said.

Tommi looked at him and smiled. “I have a better idea. Let me entertain you while the Rolong takes full effect.”

She stood and walked to Lowball, who was seated a few feet from the bed. The sound of loud pop-rock filled the room, and Tommi’s hips moved along with it. You laid there feeling as if there was a war going on inside of you. Two impulses were fighting for control. One impulse wanted to lay there, do nothing and stare at the ceiling that had begun spiraling as if it were a kaleidoscope. The other impulse wanted to get up and dance as if this were the last night you would be alive. Your limbs didn’t know which to listen to. Every time your muscles twitched to stand, your upper body refused to obey.

Your brain found it next to impossible to think of one thing. It continued to jump from topic to topic, making you dizzy in the process. You tried to fight against the effects of the roofie you’d been given. You tried to aid the adrenalin pumping through your body, trying to work as a diluting agent. Several times time felt as if it lagged. It felt as if even your blinking was slowed, taking forever to close your eyes and open them again.

When you felt the bed dip, you didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like an eternity. Looking to your right, you saw Tommi. She came to your ear and whispered.

“We have ten minutes,” she whispered before she climbed on top of you then pulled Lowball into her embrace. You laid there watching, becoming more and more unsure of what was happening.

“I think she’s ripe for the plucking.”

Tommi giggled, then looked down at you.

“I think we’d have a better time making her watch first. She needs to know what you like, daddy.”

He looked to be contemplating things, and as he did, his eyes roamed over your body, taking in every detail. You felt a hand slide down your body, beginning at your neck and down the center of your body until it reached your navel.

“I like that idea.”

With that, he pulled Tommi to him, leaving you there to watch and listen. Your being must have felt how precarious your situation was because a strong will to fight overcame you, giving you renewed energy.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

Lowball pushed Tommi aside and climbed on top of you, burying his face in your neck.

“The best way to learn is to do. She will catch on quick if she wants to live.”

Almost as soon as his hands began roaming your body more vigorously, screams could be heard, but Lowball didn’t budge. When he heard the sound of a gunshot and glass shattering, he rolled off of you, dropping to the floor beside the bed. The room began to fill with smoke.

“Stay here,” Tommi shouted.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, but real-time at the same time. You desperately tried to keep up.

“Snap out of it, Y/N. Get up. Get up!”

Though you were trying, your limbs were not obeying you. The sound of gunshots became louder and more persistent. Coughing, you tried to focus on making yourself get up. You tried to will your body to cooperate. Clenching your jaw, you screamed.

“Get up!”

With much effort, you rose then bent forward until you were able to sit up straight. Instead of celebrating this small feat, you willed yourself to stand. You stood then tried to steady yourself. Before you could take a step, someone barreled into you, taking you to the ground. That was when your muscle instinct took over. You swung a punch that connected with someone’s jaw. Not waiting for them to retaliate, you began fighting back, not knowing who you punched. When you felt knuckles connect with your face, it had a strangely sobering effect like a second injection of adrenaline.

You rolled onto them and proceeded to punch, not stopping. You felt a gun to your back. Before pausing, you punched the person underneath you once more. When you did that, the person behind you tried to grab you but got your robe instead, pulling it clear off you. As they did that, it gave you reprieve enough to do one of the tricky moves you’d learned at Quantico, which allowed you to flip the perp over your shoulder to land on the ground. You scurried around for the gun, praying you found it in time, especially with the fog in the room. When you grabbed it, you used the butt of the gun to slam down into the face of whoever was unlucky enough to find themselves your adversary.

You stood and staggered to the door, then leaned on it trying to catch your breath. You checked the magazine in the Glock you held. Satisfied, you took a few more breaths trying to overcome your debilitation.

“Let’s go, Y/N. You’ve got this.”

You pushed yourself off the door then proceeded to go through the hall, fighting every step of the way. Every few moments, you leaned against a wall to catch your breath. A few gunshots sounded behind you, making you crouch and aim backward to clip the kneecap of one of the despicable men who worked for Lowball. When they reached for their weapon, you shot again, seeing the bullet puncture their chest. While they pushed out their last breath, you continued on.

Getting to the stairs that led downstairs, you found bodies littered along the way.

“Stop right there!”

In front of you, the same man from the inspection stood there, pointing his pistol right at you.

“Ha, of course, it was you. I knew there was something off about you.”

“Guess you should have trusted your gut. Lower your weapon, and we’ll offer you a good deal,” you countered.

“Not a chance.”

“Listen dickhead. Do you hear that? That silence says your side has lost, and mine has won.”

He lunged for you, and his shoulder knocked the wind out of you as he took you down, making both of you tumble down the stairs. You felt each step the entire way down. When you’d finished tumbling, you laid there, unable to move.

“You bitch!”

He climbed on you and wrapped his hands around your throat, and began squeezing. You gagged and coughed. It was then that the roofie took the strongest hold of you. Your entire body felt heavy, and even the thought of clawing his eyes out was too much. Every time you lifted your hands to do the job, they only plopped back down. You knew you were seconds from blacking out and seconds from death.

He pulled one hand away, reached into his shirt pocket, and uncapped a needle with his mouth.

“Let’s see you survive this!”

He stabbed the needle into the side of your neck that he held with one impossibly strong hand. You screamed as he injected the substance into your bloodstream and, in the same breath, managed to reach the gun that was a few feet away from you and mustered enough energy to aim at his gut. A gunshot sounded, and the man’s movements above you paused for a moment before he tried to begin again. It was enough of a pause for you to take better aim with the gun, this time releasing another bullet in the center of his chest. He slumped forward enough for you to overpower him, but still, he fought. You rolled onto them and released one more bullet right in the center of his head.

It was then you shouted out before you dropped onto him, then flopped to your back to stare at the ceiling. The sounds of gunshots around you slowed to only a few every so often. You didn’t know how long you laid there. It could have been five, ten, or more minutes. When you felt able, you sat up and stood, using the wall to hold your weight.

With the gun in hand, you walked through the large home. You felt half-dead, and you knew it was whatever he’d injected you with. Your steps became slower and slower. Your movements more and more lagging. Still, you continued pushing through door after door, trying your best to fight. You slowly pushed through yet another door and found bright scope lights and red laser dots on your lingerie-clad body.

“Freeze!”

You tried to raise your hands but only made it halfway.

“Y/N!”

Hearing OA’s voice, your body finally gave out. Before you touched the floor, OA was there, engulfing you in his arms.

“I got you, baby. I got you,” he whispered.

You felt him tapping your cheeks, making you look at him blearily.

“Are you hurt?”

“Help me up.”

OA used his strength to stand you up. Kristen was to your side in seconds, and in a few more seconds, OA had draped his FBI jacket around your shoulders before he scooped you in his arms. Unable to fight the drugs in your system any longer, you passed out sure of your safety in OA’s arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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@titty-teetee @bamakakechick @bellaamor88 @theblulife @caplover22@toniilaney @lo-cheu @chaneajoyyy @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @ajspencer1892 @dangerouslovefanfic @alyxkbrl @chillavesss @drsunshine97 @melaninhawtie @simplyyamberr @ashanti-notthesinger @afraiddreamingandloving @wakanda-inspired @cleothegoldfish @builtalongthewayside @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna

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#partners fic #oa zidan #oa zidan fanfiction #zeeko zaki #zeeko zaki fanfiction #oa zidan x reader #oa zidan x you #oa zidan x black reader #fbi fanfiction #black fanfiction #angst fanfic

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ask-spw-mercenary · 2 years

Text

11:30pm…

Umbra had gotten a phone call from Eddie, stating to come to his home. She wasn’t walking or going out on her own this time around. Arden and Thomas were driving her this time because of what happened last time she went on her own and now that Arden had recovered from his leg injury, she knows that he ain’t gonna let that shit slide. Still when they finally arrived at Eddie’s house Umbra thought that maybe this would be normal. Maybe this wouldn’t result in anything. As the family of three get out of their car, Arden approaches the door and knocks. “Hola! Moriarty, ain’t it?”

When the door opens, the group is greeted by a middle aged man with tired eyes and a beer bottle in hand. “Yeah… and who are you?”

“The father of your sons friend.”

“Oh…” Mr Moriarty scratched his chin. “So he wasn’t lying… ah well come on in.” The man moves out of the way as Arden, Thomas and Umbra enter. “My wife ain’t here, so I don’t care about what you do so long as it doesn’t bother me.”

“What about your son?” Thomas asks in response to not picking up a another scent.

“The little one must be in his room. I’ll call ‘em down.” Mr Moriarty then approaches the staircase. “Eddie! Eddie! Edward Moriarty get your ass down here!”

While Arden and Thomas would witness whatever the hell Eddie’s father was trying to do and mentality face palming, Umbra would notice the basement door being open a crack. “Wait… Mr Moriarty?”

The man would then look at Umbra after being called. “What in the bloody ‘ell is-?” He then sees the basement door being unlocked. “Wait, I didn’t go down there.” Mr Moriarty then walks over to the basement door. “No one goes down here aside from me… so who-?”

“Alright lemme look.” Arden says, moving past Mr Moriarty and entering the basement. The mercenary is followed by Umbra and soon becomes aware of that as soon as he’s in the basement. “Wait, how did you-?”

“Dad… this isn’t crime fighting. I can help you look at a basement.”

The mercenary sighs. “Fine.” The two of them then begin to look around the basement for a little bit, before Arden sees a VHS tape with a target on it. The mercenary picks it up. “The hell?” He then runs back upstairs as Umbra follows. “Moriarty was this tape always in your basement?”

When Arden pulls out the tape, Mr Moriarty looks angered. “No. I would’ve known what the hell is in MY basement.”

Umbra then coughs, putting all eyes on her. “Why don’t we just watch it? Wouldn’t that answer our question.”

“You know what, great idea sweetie.” Arden says, before seeing the VHS near the TV. “And I know just how to play it.” The mercenary then walks over to the VHS and turns it on, along with the TV. Then the tape begins to play and then…

“Hello? Is this thing on?” A shot of Eddie in a green tuxedo plays on camera. “Ah good. Now then, if you’re watching this… you must be one of the people who understood my ciphers. They didn’t accomplish much, in fact I was just getting rid of them, before my operation got found out, but I did hint at my personal project with one of those ciphers and it was sent to the one who FINALLY found out about the operations of my bikers and the lucky person who got that little riddler was… Umbra Presley! So if you’re watching this Umbra, I want you to see THIS!” The camera then pans to a corpse with metal wings, legs and a metal jaw. “Project: La Rata Alada… my bat, and I finally have the means to power him up, curtesy of a green haired brute I hate!” He then takes out a vial of blood. “If you’re watching this after your friend, Kuro invades my hideout, then I just want to say that you got conned, scammed and outsmarted. Also, if you want to find me, you know where to find. If you don’t, it will be amusing to watch you fumble as I finally raid that convoy that goes through town every night! So please, to anyone watching this… make my first big league heist a genuine challenge. Oh and dad, if you’re watching this, please go dig yourself a hole because I’m going to a better man than you ever were.”

As the tape ends, Umbra is left with a sense of betrayal, Arden and Thomas are left in shock and Mr Moriarty is seething. “That little-!” Before the middle aged man could finish what he was gonna say, Umbra rushes past him.

Arden takes notice of this and gives chase, but Umbra uses Redbone to make herself a set of wings, so she begins to fly. Arden watches as she flys off, while Thomas exits the house with Arden. “Thomas, I think I know that she knows where that teenage Riddler is hiding.”

“That boy also said something about a convoy and had some kind of… cyber chimera!” Thomas points out. “What heist needs a cyber chimera?!”

The red haired jester then thinks before he realizes the nerds target. “Oh no… we gotta follow Umbra FAST!”

#(The Foundation’s Devil) Arden Presley #(Electro Vampire) Thomas #(Shadow of The Chaos) Umbra #(Smart Yet Self Absorbed) Professor Edward Moriarty #Vento Aureo #the mastermind arc #plot

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victoria-daydreams · 3 years

Text

The Long Way Home

Chapter Three: What the Hell Happened to Him?

AN: Thanks for the birthday wishes everyone and thank you to everyone who has liked this story! Claudia hasn’t even shown up, but you all are invested in this story and I appreciate it!

Trigger Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.4k

Taglist: @iloveeverything-09, @eiferundruhe, @greatscott--wrongdecade

Chapter Four: Recruiting for a Jailbreak

Logan, Hank, and Charles all stood around a table, discussing how to get Erik out.

"The room there holding him in was built during the Second World War when there was a shortage of steel. So, the foundation is pure concrete and sand. No metal," Hank explained, gesturing to a rolled out blueprint of the Pentagon, specifically, the facility Erik was being held in.

"He's being held a hundred floors under the most heavily guarded building on the planet," Charles added, with a sigh.

A look of confusion took over Logan's face, "Why's he in there?" he inquired, his eyes bouncing between Hank and Charles.

Charles let out a snort and raised his head as the rest of his body hunched over. "Did he forget to mention?" he asked with a laugh that was anything, but humorous.

"Uh...JFK." Hank muttered.

"He killed..." Logan trailed off, with shock evident in his tone before cutting himself off in disbelief. "That was Erik?" he questioned.

"How else do you explain a bullet miraculously curving through the air? Erik's always had a way with guns," Charles said snidely, as he turned his head to face Logan. "You sure you want to carry on with this?" he asked, uncertainty evident in his voice.

You could tell that a part of him wished that Logan would give up. Naturally, that didn't happen.

"Hey, this is your plan, not mine," Logan shrugged.

"We don't have the resources to get us in," Hank argued, shaking his head.

"Or out," Charles added. "It's just me and Hank," he breathed out.

Logan paused for a moment, "I know a guy. Yeah, he'd be a young man now, living outside of D.C.," he chuckled, as a look of fond memories filled his eyes. "He could get into anywhere. Just don't know how the hell we're gonna find him..." Logan trailed off.

Hank turned to Charles, "Is Cerebro of the question?" he asked, and Charles rolled his eyes before lowering his head down, slightly nodding it with an exhale. "We have a phone book," Hank offered.

~~~x~~~

"Here, here, here," Logan said, as he leaned forward between the seats.

"Where?" Charles questioned, carefully driving down the small street.

"Just stop here," Logan replied with agitation.

"All right, all right!" Charles surrendered, pulling up to a house in a suburban neighborhood.

"Next time I'm driving," Logan scoffed, as Charles brought the car to a stop, it was clear he hadn't driven in years.

"Don't get used to it," Charles retorted, rolling his eyes.

The three of men stepped out of the car and up to the house's front porch, passing by a mailbox with 'Maximoff' written across it's side. Strangely, the doormat at the front door had skid marks across the lettering. Logan knocked on the dark wooden door, before watching it open up to a brunette middle-aged woman her smile dropping from her face.

"What's he done now?" she sighed. "I'll just write you a check for whatever he took..." she shook her head, the woman sounded so tired.

"We just need to talk to him," Logan reassured, she nodded and opened the door all they way, allowing them in.

"Peter!" She called. "The cops are here!" she stepped out of their way. "Again." she added, seemingly sick and tired of her son's troublemaking antics. "Down there," she told them, pointing to a door.

Logan turned the knob and led the group down the wooden stairs. Stolen road signs hung on or leaned against the walls as they made their way further down. There was music was playing loud along with what sounded like a ping pong game. Once the men got to the last step, they stood in a large room and witnessed a peculiar sight. There was indeed a ping pong game being played by a young man with silver hair, but he was playing against himself, rushing to each side to hit the ball effortlessly.

"What do you guys want?" Peter asked quickly, not taking his eyes off the game before flashing past them and onto a couch eating an almost finished popsicle, "I've been here all day," he told them.

"Just relax, Peter. We're not cops-" Logan reassured, before Peter cut him off.

"Course you're not cops. If you were cops you wouldn't be driving a rental car," Peter pointed out.

Charles raised his eyebrow, "How'd you know we got a rental car?" he questioned.

"I checked your registration when you were walking to the door. I also had some time to kill so I went through your rental agreement. Saw you were from out of town. Are you FBI?" he asked, speaking quickly. Using his speed, he grabbed Charles' wallet in a second, looking through it's contents. "No, you're not cops. Hey, what's with this Gifted Youngsters' place?" he asked, as he sped away, dropping the wallet and Charles' business card on the floor.

"That's an old card," Charles stated annoyed, slipping the items back into his pocket.

"He's fascinating..." Hank commented, watching Peter speed around.

"He's a pain in the arse," Charles scoffed, running his hand through his hair, which was windblown because of Peter's speed.

"What? A teleporter?" Hank questioned.

"No, he's just fast. And when I knew him he wasn't so...young," Logan replied.

Peter frowned at his statement before grinning, "Young? You're just old," he quipped.

They turned back to the couch, seeing Peter already lounging on it finishing up a popsicle that he just got.

Hank stepped forward, "So you're not afraid to show your powers," he observed, raising an eyebrow.

Peter faked innocence, "What powers? What are you talking about? Do you see something strange here? Nothing anybody would believe if you told them..." he said very quickly, before zipped between Charles and Logan to the Pac-Man machine across the room, that was obviously stolen. "So, who are you? What do you want?" he asked.

"We need your help, Peter," Logan stated briefly.

"For what?" he quickly asked back, keeping his eyes glued to the game screen.

"To break into a highly secured facility...and get someone out,"

"Prison break? That's illegal you know..." Peter chuckled back, looking at the middle aged men who were apparently planning to do something worse than all of his crimes combined.

"Um..." Logan looked around the room at all the stolen items filling the room, which were mainly TV's and Twinkie boxes that still had price tags on them. Logan turned back to look at Peter who was still playing his game. "Well, only if you get caught,"

"So, what's in it for me?" Peter asked, keeping his eyes glued to the game screen.

"You, you kleptomaniac, get to break into the Pentagon," Charles informed, taking off his sunglasses to wipe his eyes.

This promise piqued Peter's interest, he stopped playing the game and turned around to face them.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Peter questioned.

"Because we're just like you," Logan said plainly, keeping his arms folded.

"Show him," Charles told Logan.

Logan raised his fist up, slowly, three bone claws poked through his skin and grew between his fingers.

Peter grimaced before nodding, "That's cool, but disgusting,"

~~~x~~~

"Built in 1943, the Pentagon is the world's largest office building," The tour guide began her routine. Charles, Hank, and Logan walked together in a large tourist group. "Housing more than 25,000 military employees stretched out over six million square feet,"

"Where's the bathroom?" a little boy near the front asked.

"He always need to pee!" the little boy's sister groaned.

"Well, lucky for you, you'll have plenty to choose from. The building was constructed during the segregation so..."

Logan and Charles quickly slip away from the tour guide, throwing their visitor's passes in a bin at the bottom of the stairs they went down. While Peter went away earlier to break Erik out. Hank stayed with the group and as discreetly as he could, pulled out a small a radio monitor twisting a couple switches—to interfere with the security camera signals. When activated, it would cut all the signals in the Pentagon, canceling the security footage and show Sanford & Son on the screens.

Logan and Charles climbed several flights of stairs until they finally reach door to the Pentagon kitchen. Signaling for Hank to set off the fire alarm sprinklers causing water to sprinkle down on the staff and them. Charles began speaking right away.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, this is a Code Red situation. We are evacuating the entire floor...so that my associates and I...can, uh, secure the prison..." Charles finished, and Logan sent him a 'what the hell?' look, but all the kitchen staff immediately left, leaving only two guards to deal with.

"Who are you?" One of the guards asked, advancing on them.

'We're special operations, CB...FB-CID..." Charles was getting flustered. "Perhaps you didn't hear me when first I spoke...but it is imperative that you understand... we're in a complete lock down situation. We have to get you to the third floor..."

Logan getting frustrated with Charles' rambling, rolled his eyes before taking charge of the situation. He walked forward to the guards, grabbing a frying pan on his way and punched one guard in his gut before smashing the pan on the other guard's leg then slapping him with it, knocking him out cold. Logan used the pan again on the guard that was doubled over and smashed the pan against his arm, throwing over a cart of food.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you finished?" Logan asked Charles sarcastically.

He stared at him in shock for a few seconds before shaking his head and grabbing the key to the lift from one of the guards.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, looking up to meet Logan's eyes. "I'm just not very good with violence," he declared, as the elevator doors opened.

Revealing someone Charles never thought he'd see again...Erik.

Erik looked at his old friend in shock, "Charles?" he asked in surprise.

Charles looked at him for a second before his face scrunched up, fiery with anger, and he launched a blow into the other man's face. Charles was no fighter though and ended up stumbling into the corner of the lift.

"Good to see you too, old friend," Erik commented, as he wiped at his sore lip. "And walking." He noted.

"No thanks to you!" Charles snarled.

"You're the last person in the world I expected to see today," Erik stated truthfully.

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to," he informed the man. He quickly advanced on him. "If we get you out of here, we do it my way. No killing," Charles demanded.

Erik nodded unfazed, "No helmet," he said, tapping his head. "I couldn't disobey you even if I wanted," Erik reminded.

"I am never getting inside that head again. I need your word, Erik," Charles pressed.

Erik nodded his head slightly, not knowing the truth that Charles had lost his powers. Once there silent agreement was established between the two of them they turned to walk out of the lift. Before they could even leave they were surrounded by six security guards, aiming their guns at the intruders who broke into the Pentagon.

"Nobody move! Hold it right there!" an officer shouted.

"Charles," Erik called, turning to his friend.

"Don't move! Hands up, or we will shoot!" another ordered.

"Freeze them Charles!" Erik instructed him.

"I can't," Charles admitted bitterly.

Erik's face dropped, looking at his old friend then faced forward with a look of determination. Suddenly, all the metal in the room began to vibrate.

"No!" Charles cried, as the metal rose into the air causing the guards to fire their guns.

Logan held up his hand and his bone claws began to protrude from his knuckles. While Peter put on his goggles and slid on his headphones and began to zip around the room. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion compared to the pace that Peter was moving. He knocked some guards' hats off, poked another one's cheek as he ran along the wall. He set one of the officer's fist right beside his own face, so he'd knock himself out. He pulled a plate out of the air and sent it flying across the room. He gave two men a wedgies and raced back to move the bullets fired from the officers guns from their targets. He raised them slightly above everyone's head and stood back in his place.

Erik was the first to recover from the shock of everything that had just happened. They all looked around in complete confusion. Charles looked at the young man who was smiling at them. Charles made his way through the kitchen and out the door without even a second glance. Erik looked down at Logan's claws for a moment, and followed Charles out.

Logan nodded, "Thanks, kid," he said, patting Peter on the shoulder as he passed.

He grinned and jogged to catch up with everyone. The mutants left the Pentagon building as quickly as they could. Hank stood outside with the car, waiting for them to return. He started the car immediately as soon as he saw everyone, once the five men were seated in the car Hank took off from the parking lot.

"So, that's it then? Right?" Peter asked, looking at the older mutants.

"Still gotta get Claudia," Hank replied, focusing on the road.

"Get?" Erik echoed, before glancing at Charles. "I was wondering why the lovely Claudia was strangely absent from your side," he stated.

Charles' lips formed into a thin line, "It's a long story that I rather not delve into right now," he complained, narrowing his eyes at Erik. "I hope either of you remember seeing her address in the phone book, because I don't," he said.

"Well, that's the thing, I didn't see a Claudia Walker listed," Logan responded, frustration lining his forehead. "We have no way of finding her." He added.

Hank began to shift uncomfortably in the driver's seat which Charles noticed, frowning he slowly leaned forward in his seat.

"What is it, Hank?" Charles asked, sensing something was off.

Hank was most definitely hiding something, and it was setting Charles on edge slightly. Even Logan seemed to pick this up and looked curiously at him.

"Charles..." Hank called. "How angry would you be if I told you I had Claudia's address...for several years now?"

Chapter Five: A Summer Place

#x-men fanfiction #black fanfiction #x-men fanfic #charles xavier fanfiction #charles xavier x oc #black!oc #magneto x oc #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr fanfiction #erik lehnsherr x oc #erik lehnsherr x reader #charles xavier x reader #black!reader #x men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

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bmblboop · 4 years

Text

“Ren! Nora! Flower-Power!”

(This analysis is a little bit gif/image heavy so I will include image descriptions below each photo. Please message me if you wish to submit a more detailed description for each gif/photo OR if you want to request I add a cut/keep reading function.)

Team attacks in RWBY have always been interesting to see - how they combine the strengths of each pair and demonstrate the strength of their bond. I could go into detail about every attack and variation of each (including this little tidbit about how the Pyrrha/Nora attack ‘Pomegrenade’ has since become Jaune’s signature team attack with his teammates) BUT, Today I want to focus on these two.

(ID. A screenshot of Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie from RWBY)

Ren and Nora are arguably the closest characters in the RWBY canon, having grown up together following a deeply traumatic experience in the destruction of Kuroyuri. So, if team attacks are all about understanding and complimenting each other’s abilities, why haven’t we seen their combo attacks more often?

The History of Flower Power

Okay, the short answer is that the ‘Flower Power’ team name didn’t exist until Volume 3, when Jaune was inspired by team RWBY’s team attacks from Volume 2 and sought to replicate it. We don’t even see the attack formation since JNPR had a miscommunication and discussed that for the rest of the battle. The name has not been brought up in canon since.

The longer answer is that team attacks involve a great deal of trust and coordination with your partner. The team attacks that JNPR attempted at the Vytal Festival fell apart due to lack of clarity and communication. We will come back to this later.

Why are we talking about a team attack was mentioned exactly once?

Because it existed in the, now deceased, mobile game Amity Arena:

(ID. A gif of Ren and Nora from from the RWBY Amity Arena mobile game. The art features their Volume 4 outfits, both pointing their weapons toward the camera.)

Flower Power is basically a Ren card with a special attack that calls Nora to the screen. She then launches him into the air and he delivers an AOE explosion where he lands.

(ID. A gif of the unlock animation for the Legendary Flower Power card. Ren somersaults into view, and punches the air a few times. Nora then arrives behind him, riding her hammer, before winding back and hitting Ren with it. Ren is now in the air, landing with a punch to the ground and an explosion to indicate the impact. He stands up and poses beside Nora, his symbol illuminating the background.)

Okay, so what? Now we know what their team attack could have looked like?

This was one of the few attacks that existed in Amity Arena without any direct references from the show (or After the Fall/Before the Dawn for that matter) aside from the name. Did the Amity Arena designers just, make it up because they’re a popular pair?

For a while, I thought nothing of it. Until the Volume 7 finale.

(ID. A gif of Nora following through on a hammer swing off camera. The footage pans up to reveal Ren in the air, moving toward the camera. It cuts to Neo smiling and Ren crashing through her illusion.)

This IS the Flower Power team attack from the game. The card was released in the 1.13.0 patch on October 24th 2019, and this episode aired in early February 2020. Given the amount of time it takes for an episode of any show to be written, boarded, animated and finished - I will operate under the assumption this attack existed in the show first and CRWBY informed the game team behind the scenes, rather than claim the show copied the move from the game. (Additionally, AmityArena needed RWBY permission on all their cards, costumes and hidden lore, so there is no way this was a coincidence.)

What it means for Character Development

Flower Power, as a combo attack, isn’t super complex - but it does require a lot of trust. Any team attack that involves one partner launching the other to deliver a devastating attack is going to be a very elaborate trust-fall exercise, but I find it even more dangerous considering the method yeeting being employed here is Nora’s hammer. Add onto that the fact that Ren is facing away from Nora in all of these versions of Flower Power - he has to be prepared for the momentum of the hammer swing even though he can’t see where she is or how she is swinging it.

TL;DR - Trust is important for this attack to work or else someone is gonna get really hurt.

While Ren and Nora are very close friends, and have proven their closeness over and over again, they aren’t as open with each other as they appear. Nora doesn’t tell Ren she’s fallen in love with him, Ren doesn’t tell Nora he’s concerned about the responsibility of being a Hunstman. They don’t spend time figuring out their relationship after the kiss and the election night massacre, thus leaving a big floating question mark above the future of their relationship as they entered Volume 8.

I think it is very intentional that the first time we see the team attack, and it fails, is when their relationship has hit it’s lowest point at the end of a volume centered around Trust.

(To clarify - Nora and Ren’s teamwork was fine vs Neo there, I’m saying symbolically and thematically that is why it failed)

So what does that mean for the future? Will we see a true version of Flower Power? Well, that’s going to depend on when Nora and Ren figure out themselves and their relationship to each other. So when Ren and Nora survive the fall of Atlas and reconcile their feelings, I expect their relationship to improve and become more open with each other. Ren’s ability to see/sense emotions will help greatly with that. It may not be for a while, personally I would not expect it before Nora’s new arc of self-worth reaches it’s climax. Eventually, we’ll see a successful Flower Power attack with all the power and triumph of the first time we saw Bumblebee or Ice Flower or Pomegrenade in action.

And it’s going to be beautiful.

#renora #flower power rwby #lie ren #nora valkyrie #my analysis #my posts #rwby analysis #in-show meta #out-of-show meta #rwby amity arena #rwby v7 spoilers #rwby v8 #rwby v8 spoilers #rwby meta #TL;DR Flower Power team attack proves that Renora lives through volume 8 because of theme and parallels and these two deserving happyendings

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phoenotopia · 4 years

Text

The Last Phoenotopia Blog Update

(Date 2021 MAR 01)

I debated how to open this blog post, but perhaps the main crux of this blog post is the best place to start. The blog is being retired.

The purpose of this blog was to be a "development" blog for Phoenotopia, and well, Phoenotopia's development is done. I'll still be doing bug fixes and maintenance on the PC and Switch versions, and playstation and xbox ports are underway (by a publisher). But I'm not going to be making any more major changes to the game. At some point, you put the paintbrush down and say it's done. Blemishes and all.

Recent Events

The game launched on Steam last month, and like any launch, it was hectic. Bugs Galore. This is our first commercial PC launch, so it was a real baptism by fire. Unlike Switch's one configuration, the PC has multiple configurations and factors to account for. The game needed to be able to handle multiple control schemes, screen resolutions, refresh rates, and more! I had a 60Hz monitor going into launch and didn't know anything about Hz (I do now). There was a troublesome stutter that some players were sensitive to that my whole team didn't notice since our eyes compensated it away. There were a few times where in fixing something at one party's behest, it introduced problems for another party. A few times, due to disorganization, I unwittingly rolled back a fix that was meant to be applied. For some, the game couldn't play at all (really glad Steam allows refunds).

It was messy. It was tiring. I.AM.BEAT.

I think the worst of it is over... I'll still be around to do the last updates and bug fixes, but I'm ultimately ready for what's next.

SO what is next?

What isn't next... is Phoenotopia 2. As you may have heard down the grapevine, the game couldn't be what you call successful. No one's earned even minimum wage on it.

Maybe there's hope in the game's long tail. A year or two down the line... maybe. I won't hold my breath though. At some point in the past few months, I finished processing (or grieving) and it's time to move on.

The game has at least earned enough for us to continue our modest operations. As long as we don't expand the team, and we don't take another monster six-year dev cycle like what Phoenotopia took, we can continue. We'll have to be smarter and faster. Perhaps the most valuable thing we gained from all this is experience.

The Experience

It is a dev blog. Here are some of the lessons I've accumulated from this game's development.

- Have a good menu design. Menus aren't just that in-between fluff before you get to the good stuff. Menus are KEY. Your menus need to be robust, expandable, and *understandable* (to you, the developer). Because once the game's out, you will invariably be asked to add more options. And if your menu design is bad, every time you have to add a new menu option, it becomes a whole new pain all over again. Support mouse from the get-go, etc.

- Focus on features that people will actually care about. For instance, I've never seen anyone praise the camera's zoom feature. In practice, people try that feature a few times and then never use it again. But that feature was a constant consideration factor for every level. Run through it multiple times to make sure the level didn't break, think about which zoom levels made sense, resize rooms because they worked at one zoom level but not the other, and so on.

- Don't do boxes that you can move around. Other 2D platformers avoid movable boxes because they're a huge headache to program and they really complicate the game space. Enemies need to respond to boxes you throw in their path and either navigate around or attack it. When you're moving the box, you have to worry about constantly changing your collision size and reconciling when the box gets snagged on the environment. The boxes were also a constant source of bugs because people can manipulate them to soft-lock themselves and more.

- More focused script. Phoenotopia's 100,000+ word script was panned more for being bloated than it was praised for being lengthy. Long scripts take a long time to write and make the game more unwieldy, increasing the costs of translation and upkeep. Every update we're addressing some textual error or mistranslation. There are some highly renowned games (e.g. Hyper Light Drifter) that do without a script at all!

- Be flashy! A bat and a lightsaber take the same amount of work to program, but the lightsaber will draw a lot more attention and interest.

- Slopes, surprisingly! Six years ago when I started, Unity was ill-equipped for 2D games. If you used the physics that Unity provided you'd have a really floaty character that wouldn't adhere to the slope when going downhill. There were a hundred different tutorials saying different things (use forces, use move position, use translation, etc). You can get rectangular collisions done in a day, but to do slopes took weeks. Meanwhile, games can actually get by fine without slopes. Most people won't even notice. Did you know the Phoenotopia flash game didn't have slopes? Neither does Hollow Knight or Rogue Legacy. You can save yourself a lot of work by avoiding slopes.

(big entities look weird on slopes. Bad slope!)

I could write enough little knowledge nuggets like this to fill a book! But I'd rather just make the next game.

So… what IS next?

As mentioned previously, it's not Phoenotopia 2. Pirate and I are mostly just tossing some ideas back and forth right now. We'll go silent for a year (or two). Our next game's scope will be more modest in some ways, more ambitious in others. It will definitely be more smartly designed. (There will be a map!)

We'll announce it when it's ready for the public. It might be necessary for us to do a kickstarter. I've tried to avoid kickstarters having been burnt on quite a few myself and also because I worry that mismanaging a kickstarter would earn the ire of backers.

But I did keep this blog regularly updated for six years. So I've gained some confidence in my abilities to at least manage a kickstarter well.

Is it really the last Phoenotopia Blog update though?

Okay, not really. There is some news that I'll need to announce, and this blog is one of the game's main outreach channels. Here are the events that will cause me to update the blog:

Announcing the launch of the xbox/playstation ports when they're ready

If a physical edition of the game happens

If a new language is getting introduced into the game (Korean is a high possibility)

When we're ready to talk about our next game

If (BIG IF) we begin development on a Phoenotopia sequel. I do want to do a sequel one day if we have the means and the demand is there.

Those updates will be more on a "when they happen" basis, rather than me reporting in every couple months.

Fan Art

As always, I'm very happy to see fanart of Phoenotopia. Major thanks again to Pimez for collecting all the artwork from the corners of the internet! Since this is the "last" blogpost, Sir Pimez can finally take a rest from collecting the fanart :P

ÆV made a series of pictures that tell a story. A Pooki is humanely sheared of its wool to create a hat. The Pooki is unharmed. Nice! Gotta love Gail’s expressions.

Amagoo Mazeru makes a stunning landscape shot of a full moon and shooting stars. It’s a sharp and clear vector art. I like the faint glow of the moon and the fire and the subtle gradient in the night sky. Very skillfully done!

Hah hah. I got a chuckle out of this one. I imagine this is how Gail's enemies see her by the end of the game. CaESar made this image based on TerminalMontage's famous youtube videos. Nailed it!

CrownStar drew two pictures of Gail. I'm a big player of JRPGs, so the first shot instantly reminded me of Persona 4's art style. (Hmmm... Phoeonotopia as a JRPG... there’s potential there...) Next, Birdy is shown carried off after her defeat. I really like Birdy's expression here - she just seems mildly uncomfortable.

There's a bit of a story behind the first image. As Firanka shares it, she wasn't able to defeat the Big Eye monster at the end of the flash game, so she believed a tall tale that what awaited after was a 6 armed Kobold boss. Hilarious! The second is a rendition of the lonely Anuri elder. A rare subject. The loneliness is portrayed well here. I feel lonely just looking at it!

Koo_chop draws the clash between Gail and Katash at the top of the towers. I really like this interpretation of the game's art style. It’s faithful to the in-game graphics. And the lighting, from the glow of Gail's bat, to Katash's sword, and the lightning in the background... Amazing!

Lime Hazard shows Gail with a salute pose. Very appropriate for this occasion. I also like how there's a slight tilt in the angle that Gail is portrayed. Those dynamic angles are always hard to get right, and Lime Hazard pulled it off very skillfully. See you next mission!

Lyoung0J with a digital painting of Gail posed sitting on a rock. I like how it almost seems like she was caught in a candid moment - she’s smiling, but also feeling self-conscious. Cute! The art style really pops, and I like how Gail is sporting what I call the old anime style nose.

MyUesrNameIsSh*t with a sketch of Gail performing a skillful slingshot. I like how Gail is depicted with her tongue out in a mischievous manner, the way all mischievous people with slingshots do.

Niitsu Kentaro returns with a 2021 Happy New Year picture. That happened didn't it? A New Year... Gail's pose gave me a chuckle with how she seems to be waving the bat around as casually as one would wave hello. And "Phoenotopiyear"... Well said! One day we'll have our Phoenotopiyear...

Ochan Nu breaks all records with a stunning NINE pictures in one session :O

There's so many goodies here. My favorite would be the one with Gail staring intently at the screen - it's like she's looking directly at you. You almost feel uncomfortable.

Next, there's an Animal Crossing villager dressed as Gail and sporting her pink hair. It even looks like a house Gail would live in. Gail is a connoisseur of the arts and likes Mona Lisa. Yes :)

There are various comics of Gail pointing out Gail's weird food habits. A picture of Fran looking really cool, and even Gail rocking a bathing suit. (bathing suit image linked here in case NSFW). Wow!

Pimez didn't just collect the arts, he creates them as well! This one, which he aptly named 'The Year 175' is a depiction of when the dragons invaded the towers as told by an elderly Daean woman. Great pixeling skills! I got a good chuckle from the ice dragon leaving with its stuff slung over its shoulder.

Quo made a stunning picture of Gail playing the flute surrounded by the 5 musical notes and the Phoenix logo behind her. The theme seems to be "fire" and it works really well. Gail herself looks awesome depicted in her red suit - it's like she's leading a marching band!

Rai Asuha depicts Gail in the late game with her red suit, and night star bat, and holding a lamp. She looks ready for adventure! I really like the white outline here and Gail's poofy shoulders here - the art style feels reminiscent of Final Fantasy Tactics.

Seri also draws Gail bearing her late game equipment. Unique to Seri's drawing is how all of Gail's equipment is accessible from a pocket on her shirt. I also like how Gail is depicted with her lucky earrings - that accessory is often forgotten.

Treedude depicts Gail with a bat and wearing a funny smirk. She looks like she's ready to hurt someone!

Warotar returns with everyone's favorite Great Drake, Bubbles! It seems so happy to be featured!

I'm really grateful for all the fanart this game has received. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

Closing Notes

Pirate drew a picture to mark the occasion. It shows Gail enjoying a hot chocolate with marshmallows and a pumpkin muffin. A rest well-earned...

Goodbye! Until next time!

#phoenotopia

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derivativealigner · 4 years

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Well I haven’t watched sp all the way through for about a decade now, so I thought it was time

Sometimes I wonder how accurate the fandom is when it comes to how we interpret the characters. Like, why is Stan a football star so often in fanfic and why’s Kyle always the smart one? So I thought I’d rewatch the show and make notes along the way to see where the source of all these interpretations is. I also wanted to see if I could get some fun info to analyze, but season 1 is pretty sparse in that regard so there’s not too much of that in this post, but I’ll make a post for all the other seasons too as I watch them

In summary, it’s established in season 1 already that Stan’s a star quarterback and an animal lover, Kyle’s an A+ student, and Kenny is poor and knows a lot about sex and doesn’t have many qualms about doing crazy shit. Cartman is a bit weird since he’s mostly just a naive brat in this season, but he and Kyle have a mildly antagonistic friendship already

I have all my notes under this cut. They include a bunch of small details and other observations. I also listed every Kenny death just because

Ike has freckles

Cartman says “Weak!” and “You guys” and “Seriously” a lot from the start, also “Kickass!” He doesn’t say weak or kickass much in the later seasons iirc

Stan says “Dude, this is pretty fucked up right here” three times in this season but they dropped that catchphrase pretty quickly

Bebe got named in episode 2

Stan’s been an animal lover since s01e03 Volcano since he won’t shoot a bunny or anything else. He does shoot Scuzzlebutt at the end though

Cartman’s a pathological liar but in a childish way

Randy got named in s01e03 Volcano (and it only got worse from there)

The mayor went to Princeton

South Park is next to Mt. Evanson

Kenny will literally drink gasoline

Stan’s a star quarterback in 3rd grade

Clyde’s voice is wrong as hell in S01E04 Big Gay Al’s Big Gay Boat Ride and he has a dog, Rex

Garrison says Kyle is an A+ kid

Shelly seriously abuses Stan, punching him, throwing him, maiming him with a lawnmower

Cartman had a pot-bellied pig called Fluffy

Cartman’s mom smokes crack and has sex with strange men

Dr. Mephesto is probably a Buddhist since he says “Thank Buddha” instead of “Thank God”

Clyde’s voice gets kind of fixed in S01E06

A guy called Mr. McCormick is killed in a protest, launched and splattered against a network building. He doesn’t look like Kenny’s dad though

Zombie Clyde attacks Bebe, rude

Wendy gave her costume contest prize (2 tons of candy) to hungry children in Nairobi

Cartman’s mom is on the cover of Crack Whore magazine. “Back do’ ho… Five on one action!” is the headline

Cartman genuinely cries at Kenny’s grave after the whole zombie thing but gets over it because of candy

Stan knows his mom’s credit card number and has no problem using it to adopt an Ethiopian child (the boys wanted a watch that came with the adoption, they weren’t doing it to be nice)

Cartman calls Stan a vas deference, Stan doesn’t know what that is so Kenny says “Dude, it’s a pipe for your peepee” (according to a transcript). Kenny sure knows male anatomy

Kyle sniffs Kenny after Cartman asks why poor people smell like sour milk and Garrison says “idk eric they just do”

Cartman thinks poor people should die and decrease the surplus population

When the boys get Starvin’ Marvin delivered to them, Cartman says “Hey mom, we found an Ethiopian, can we keep him?” and his mom says “Sure, hun.” She rarely says no to Cartman

Kenny’s dad is an alcoholic who drinks scotch according to Cartman. I mean, Mr. McCormick is seen drinking in multiple episodes and has a hat that says SCOTCH so it’s probably true

Kenny’s family says grace

Craig’s first appearance is S01E09. Also, S01E09 is the first time Kenny doesn’t die (Coincidence? I THINK yeah but it’s still fun)

Clyde got named in S01E10

Clyde and Bebe both spit on Pip’s face, friendship goals <3

Cartman and Kyle have their first fight at Cartman’s birthday party because Kyle didn’t give the right gift. Cartman slaps his face and screams “I hate you! I want you to die! Die!” while on top of Kyle who’s not really fighting back

Satan throws a fight with Jesus after everyone except Satan bet that Jesus would lose, which leads to Satan winning everyone’s money. Mr. Garrison says “What a mean thing to do!” and Jimbo says “He is a jerk!” and I thought it was quite a laugh so I wrote it down

In S01E11 Tom’s Rhinoplasty Bebe and Wendy are sitting in the swings together and generally appear together throughout the episode, then Bebe gives Wendy a makeover so they’re bffs obviously <3

Craig first appears in the classroom, though not sitting down, in S01E11

Wendy’s not happy about Ms. Ellen taking Stan away from her, she says “Don’t fuck with me! Stay away from my man, bitch, or I’ll whoop your sorry ho ass back to last year!”

Kenny gives Ms. Ellen a scrumptious looking sausage as a valentine’s gift and giggles deviously. Wendy’s gift to Ms. Ellen is a dead animal

Even Kenny doesn’t know what a lesbian is

Wendy’s grandma died in S01E11

Wendy gets Ms. Ellen killed by hiring the Iraqi government (?) to put her in a rocket and shoot it into the sun, then she and Bebe have a pool party (very cool, they wear sunglasses 😎) and watch the rocket hit the sun

Cartman and Pip play a game of kicking each other in the nuts until someone falls. Cartman calls it “Roshambo”

Kenny has a sack of marbles

The boys aren’t fans of Barbra Streisand, but Stan is a fan of the Denver Broncos quarterback John Elway (he’s not a quarterback anymore, he’s an American football executive and the president of football operations for the Denver Broncos of the NFL according to wikipedia.)

Officer Barbrady is a fan of Fiona Apple (who was 20 at the time and had only one album released called Tidal)

Ned knows how to pilot a helicopter

Kyle’s mom is a fan of Streisand unlike literally everyone else, she even gets an autograph from Mecha Streisand

The boys are fans of Robert Smith, the lead singer of The Cure. Stan says “Robert Smith is the greatest person that ever lived!” and Kyle says “Disintegration is the best album ever!” and Cartman says “Robert Smith kicks ass!” and Kenny’s dead so he doesn’t get to have an opinion

Cartman has tea parties with his toys: Polly Prissypants, Clyde frog, Peter Panda, and a dragon called Rumpertumskin

Kyle wants to make fun of Cartman for the tea party but Stan stops him because he’s concerned that Cartman needs help

Craig is in front of the school counselor’s office in S01E13

A young miss Cartman drinks like a motherfucker at the 12th annual drunken barn dance where Cartman was supposedly conceived

Stan lets Cartman borrow his bike like a good friend

Garrison wanted to have a threesome with Chef and Cartman’s mom. I don’t know why I’m making a note of this but uh… yeah.

Cartman’s mom has had sex with everyone at this bar that Garrison’s drinking at, including principle Victoria, the mayor, Father Maxi, and Jesus (and maybe Kenny’s dad since he’s at the bar but the camera doesn’t pan to him when Garrison says they’ve all slept with Liane). Later Gerald Broflovski is a possible father to Eric, so he fucked her too. Also Mr. Mephesto and his friend Kevin, that little guy, are candidates along with a lot of other people, including the 1989 Denver Broncos (and Mr. Tenorman is included in that later)

Cartman doesn’t make fun of Kyle for being Jewish much at all in this season even though the Christmas episode is all about Kyle not celebrating

Clyde and Token appear very early on and Clyde has always been in the classroom (along with Bebe, Red, Kevin Stoley, Wendy, and Pip and uhh DogPoo too I think). Craig appears later in the season and Tweek’s not in season 1 at all, so Craig’s gang isn’t really a thing yet

And here’s a list of the ways Kenny died in this season. He dies in every episode except episode 9, and he dies twice in episodes 2 and 3. Altogether he dies 14 times

S01E01 Killed after alien shoots him, cows stampede over him, then cop runs him over which finally actually kills him

S01E02 Killed in a play by a falling teepee, then a second time shot by Garrison which sends him in the air and he gets impaled on a flagpole on the way down

S01E03 Killed by a volcano rock that burns him then rolls on him but he’s alive again in the end but gets shot by Ned’s gun that he drops and it accidentally goes off

S01E04 Gets his arms and head torn off in an American football game

S01E05 Stan’s clone punches Kenny into a microwave where he gets cooked alive

S01E06 Death touches Kenny

S01E07 Kenny gets crushed by a Russian space station and turns into a zombie because he gets Worcestershire sauce in his veins, then Kyle chainsaws zombie Kenny in half, then zombie Kenny rises from his grave and is crushed by a statue and a plane

S01E08 Kenny is killed by a bunch of turkeys. His eye gets plucked out. It’s dark blue

S01E10 After Kenny gets turned into a duck-billed platypus, Jimbo and Ned shoot him

S01E11 Ms. Ellen throws a sword through Kenny’s face

S01E12 While Mecha Streisand and a giant robot Leonard Maltin fight, Kenny plays with a tetherball and gets the rope wrapped around his neck and it strangles him

S01E13 Kenny gets stuck on a go kart and it drags him around but stops and he’s still alive! Too bad the go kart stops on train tracks and a train runs him over. Stan’s grandpa sends a video of the event to America’s Stupidest Home Videos and wins $10,000

If you read all that, first of all hello. I’m not new to the fandom even though this is the first thing I’ve posted on this tumblr blog. I’ve been writing a fanfic called Caffetamine though so I’m not a complete non-entity. Anyway, I’ll watch season 2 soon and post my notes on that too probably.

#south park #sp rewatch #i made way too many notes #kenny used to get dialog in almost every episode #poor kenny #he really gets shafted later

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fnf-brain-rot · 3 years

Text

We're In This Together [Pico's School AU] Chapter 2 - Donut Rendezvous

Today was the day..

Wednesday..

It was a half day, being the day before a teacher work day. They didn't have school on that Thursday. Teachers had donuts available to them in the break room every Wednesday.

Pico and Darnell have been planning this for months.

They got the whole class on their side, having started a little protest in the cafeteria. "We're tired of adults hogging the sweets to themselves!" They cried out to the other students. "This time we take the sweets for ourselves!"

They were being normal at first, all arriving when the bell rang, sitting in their seats, and listening to the lecture. Most of the students shot each other knowing glances. Pico was the leader of this rendezvous, of course. On his signal, the others would move.

Ten minutes into class now, Bee was curious about the restlessness of the other students, looking around himself, having made eye contact with a few. Right, he's new. Pico had a grand idea. He'd lead in the front with him, like his queen of the army or something. He snickered at the thought, looking down at his blank paper. Right, perfect move. He and Darnell looked to each other, then nodded.

It felt quiet. Too quiet. The seconds ticked by loudly from the clock above them. Usually the teacher that buys the donuts would buy two boxes, which should be enough for two classes to feed each student one time.

Oh, right, the other class was in on it too. This would be big.

Pico stood up from his seat, slowly, as to not alarm the other students. Mrs. Fee's back was turned to the children, the woman mindlessly explaining some math equation and writing on the chalk board. He walked over to Bee, gently grabbing his hand. "Bee-" He almost started, but Pico covered his mouth, as to not alert Mrs. Fee as well. "Follow me.." He whispered. Bee nodded and stood quietly as well. The two shimmied from between the desks, and Pico held up one finger.

One...

Two....

Three...

The cacophony of screeching desks an chairs startled the woman up front, and many children began to yell at the top of their lungs, mostly those also known for causing trouble. A thunderous rumble of feet crossed the floor, and Pico raced for the classroom door, Bee just barely able to keep up with him. He threw the wooden slab open, and bolted out of the classroom, not looking back, but he could hear the monstrous amount of kids following him.

"Beep!! Beep bop!!" Bee cried over the noise, then heard the door next to theirs slam open. The second class took the message, and now raced after the other. Pico could hear Darnell's laughter over the noise as the group of students scattered around down the hall. It was a straight shot to the break room, right down the hall. Their school had no security, all they had to worry about were the teachers.

"What are you kids doing?!" The voice of one of the teachers rang out, muffled by the sound of stomping feet and ecstatic screams. "Scatter!!" Pico yelled out. Some of the taller kids blocked view of Pico, Darnell, and Bee, entering the room in which the donuts resided. Bee stood off to the side, hiding behind the wall as Darnell closed the door behind them. "B-Beep?? Brappity-"

"Yeah, you weren't here for instructions. You see, me and Darnell been planning this for a long time." Pico began to explain it to the shorty, quickly grabbing one of the boxes. Still warm. Nice. "Darnell grab a bag." Darnell saluted and went to look for a plastic bag. They would snag a little under half the donuts exclusively for themselves, being Darnell, Pico, Nene, Gigi, by Nene's begging, and Bee, because Pico said so.

"Bep bop.." Bee breathed out. Pico could damn there hear his heart thumping in his ears. It wasn't over yet. "Darnell, assess the situation." Pico then ordered. Darnell poked his head out the door. "No teachers in sight, sir." He responded. "Good, let's book it." Pico grinned maniacally, Darnell holding the door open for him and Bee.

"Boop bepoo?" Bee pointed at himself, and Pico raised a brow. Their next stop was their secret spot, but they had to go past the main office to get outside, since the doors were chained during the day. "Why did I grab you? Well, cause you would have been left alone in there with Cassandra." Pico gagged as he said her name. the goths wanted no part in it. He didn't care, more donuts for everyone else. "Now come on, there shouldn't be anyone in the office right now." He led the two past the glass room, which as he stated, was devoid of any staff. They most likely went to deal with the kids, which the screams still echoed faintly down the halls.

They scampered past the view of some cameras, then accessed the side door. The empty area behind some trees across the walkway was visible. They were in the home stretch. "Hey, Darnell, carry one of these will ya? My arms are dying." Pico huffed softly, and Darnell snurked. "Whatever you say, sissy." He teased. "Hey, I'm the leader of this whole operation. I ain't no sissy." The ginger shot back, making Bee giggle lightly.

They made it without error to the hiding spot in the trees. Bee fumbled with his hands awkwardly, staring at the bag of donuts Darnell held. Pico laughed a little, setting one of the boxes on top of the other on a tree stump. "Wait just a second there Bee." He walked over, elbowing the smaller's shoulder, who winced a little, but rubbed it with a goofy smile. "Those are the special donuts. We're gonna go heat them up in the lounge." Bee made a face. "During lunch dummy."

"There's a part two to this plan??" Darnell quickly asked. Pico shook his head. "I just know how to get in and out. Me and the janitor are on good terms. I'm close to him letting me into his closet." He nudged the brown boy's arm, and they made their way back into the building.

_______________

"Now, I don't know what's gotten into you kids, but this behavior is unacceptable."

Mrs. Fee had decided to give the kids a lecture after they all returned to their respective classrooms. "The only one who didn't leave was Cassandra, which means the rest of you get workbook homework for the rest of the week." Darnell groaned, but Pico had a shit eating grin on his face, his cheeks flushed in triumph. "Fucking worth it." He muttered, holding his fist out to Darnell. "Yeah, I guess." He responded with quiet laughter, returning the fist bump. the other kids probably thought it was worth it. Hell, Pico controlled the distribution of the donuts. They better think it's worth it or they ain't gettin' shit.

Pico looked over to Bee, who was smiling and kicking his legs a little, fiddling with his pencil. That whole ordeal must have filled him with quite the adrenaline. "Stick with me, and you'll be on top of the food chain dude." He had told him when they were coming back in. Bee didn't seem opposed to the idea, but he still didn't wanna scare him off. They did things like this pretty often. Having the parents Darnell had, usually others had to get involved so just those two, or three, including Nene, wouldn't get in trouble.

After the end of first period, Pico waited for Bee by the door, of course being teased by Nene and Darnell as they left. Bee stumbled a bit as he threw his big bag on his shoulders, walking over to Pico with a big smile on his face. "You like that chaos, huh?" He asked the boy, returning the grin. "Beep boop!" He responded, bouncing on his toes a bit, and they left the room.

"That's just how it is in this school. Of course I'm the instigator, got kind of a reputation. I make my father proud." Pico laughed a little. His ego was inflated as hell considering the dads he has. Well, dad. Steve didn't like to entertain the chaotic nature those two shared. Said he didn't like to lose sleep while those two jousted with frying pans at two AM.

"Bep bop.. Skdoo beep.." Bee muttered softly, a bit of a bitter tone to his voice. "What, your dad doesn't like that kind of mess?" Bee shook his head in response. Must be on closer terms with his mom huh? Yeah, he's lucky he had a dad who didn't suck ass. "Well when lunch rolls around, you can have your donuts, okay?" Pico reminded him to reassure him. He didn't wanna see the sad look on the kid's face. He was too bright to be frowning like that. "We could work on that homework together too, if it'll make you feel better." He then offered him. There it is, that bright smile.

Man this kid was just so precious..

_______________

History was mostly uneventful, save for Bee falling asleep in the middle of writing a sentence. He must have crashed from all the excitement. It was so abrupt that his face banged against the desk, and his head shot back up as he let out a yelp. Pico snurked from beside him, and heard some others begin to laugh as well.

Once the class had ended, Pico made sure he and Boyfriend were the first ones out, so they could run and grab the donuts. Thankfully the boxes were still there, untouched. "Come to papa." Pico rubbed his hands together, and lifted the boxes. he hoped all the glaze didn't melt off, it's hot out here.

They made their way back into the school, walking in through the side door to the cafeteria, where all the students waited eagerly for their treats. Darnell, Nene, and Gigi caught up to them when they saw them enter. "Wow, you actually managed to pull it off. I'm impressed." Gigi commented lightly as they set up the boxes on the end of one of the lunch tables. Pico cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening as he put a hand on his chest. "Well, they don't call me Pico "danger" Neil-Griffiths for no reason."

"literally no one calls you that." Nene snorted. Bee held back a laugh, turning his head away, while Darnell just openly cackled. "Whatever, I like my name." Pico scoffed in response, then opened one of the boxes. He was right to be worried. It's a mess in there. "You sure they'll want these?" Nene asked him, doubt in her voice. Pico waved his hand dismissively. "They're idiot kids, they'll take anything with sugar in it." Bee reached for it, but Pico smacked his hand away. "We get the nice donuts. Darnell?" Said boy held up the large plastic bag of almost half a box of donuts. "You sneaky.." Gigi mumbled, sweating nervously. "That's capitalism for you. Now take the best looking ones outta here, and we'll let them have the rest- quit your yappin', you'll get your turn!" Pico glared at some kids that had gathered around the table, and allowed his buddies to grab whatever ones they wanted. He had a mind to sock one of these greedy children in the face.

He often forgets he's a child himself, but he doesn't associate with these gremlins.

Once each of them were satisfied with what they got, the group began to move to leave out of the cafeteria. Pico stayed behind to whistle, signaling to the others to come get their donuts. And like a pack of starving dogs, the children rushed over, once again, save for the goth kids, who glared at Pico knowingly. the ginger only flipped the bird at them, and ran off with the others.

"What are you guys doing for the half day?" He heard Gigi talking to the others. She and Bee were walking pretty closely. Pico stayed back a bit, narrowing his eyes at the little pit in his stomach. He felt nauseous, or something. He didn't know, but he didn't like it. He didn't linger on it for too long though, noticing Bee glance behind him. "Bep!" He slipped between Nene and Darnell, who looked to see where he was going. They cooed when they saw Bee grab Pico's hand, which made the taller flush exponentially. Geez this guy could pull. He must have been an annoying toddler.

"C'mon man, how are we gettin' in?" Darnell then asked as Pico was brought to the front. Pico laughed to hide how flustered he was, then cleared his throat. Literally everyone, except for Bee, weren't buying it. Oh whatever, he didn't need to convince everybody. "Simple, just walk in." Pico walked over and opened the door. "We're on schedule, so the teachers should be on their way in a little bit. Hurry and throw that in there." The others filed inside, looking around and snooping through drawers. "Nice. Sharp scissors." Nene pulled a pair of scissors out of the metal cabinet, and Bee flopped onto the couch, letting out a content, "Beeeeeeep.." Gigi laughed and sat beside him, causing his face to go red.

Pico forced himself to look away, as to not seem weird.

_______________

As everyone wouldn't shut the hell up about, school ended early. Pico was so ready to leave, he even had a couple spare donuts. He stashed them away in his backpack for safe keeping. "Geez P, how do you understand Bee so well so fast?" Darnell had asked them, the group hanging out in the front of the school. "I dunno, it's like.. telepathic." Pico looked to the blue headed boy in question, who was mindlessly tapping away on his phone a a bit away from them. "Bee, you're sitting in the middle of the staircase, someone can trip over you." Pico pulled him closer, just barely missing some kid who wanted to launch himself off the top stair. Dumbass..

"Bop.." Bee mumbled softly, turning his body to face Pico, then continued what he was doing. Gigi and Nene talked with each other some bit away. He didn't care to listen in, they were probably chatting about girl stuff.

"Hey, who the hell rides a limo?" Darnell grumbled in question, and Gigi's head shot up. The horn from said vehicle honked loudly, and some people stared at it. "God, that's so embarrassing.." Gigi covered her face. "That's mine.."

"What?!"

"Beep?!"

The group had shouted simultaneously, and the red head girl giggled. "What are you, rich??" Darnell questioned her, and she made a nervous sound. "I'll explain some other time. See you guys!" She gripped her backpack and ran off, the group watching as the door opened for her, and she hopped in. It left just as quickly as it came. "Huh.." Darnel murmured thoughtfully. "New objective. Find out if Gigi is rich." Pico joked lightly, and Nene scoffed.

"Knock it off. You've done enough today." She went and sat with the three. "Hey Bee, you wanna hang out with us today? We always stop at this playground on the way home." Pico then offered. Bee hummed in thought, but paused when he noticed Pico give him the puppy eyes. He giggled, then held up his phone. "Bee bo bop." He responded. "Is that.. a yes?" Nene questioned. "He'll text his mom." Pico answered for her, standing up from his spot. "Wizard." Darnell mumbled, and followed suit.

Thankfully Bee was able to go. Pico thought he would have to rant to his dad about mean parents.

_______________

Pico wanted to do everything and absolutely nothing all at once.

He sat in his favorite spot near the slide, Bee sitting beside him. "Behp beppo." He muttered nervously, and Pico scoffed. "We steal the playground every day, those kids should know better by now." He huffed. Bee went quiet after a moment, and Pico looked up to him staring at him. His cheeks flushed red. "Uh.. What?" He then asked. The boy only responded quietly with "Hm?" as if he were spacing out. Pico clicked his tongue and looked away again. "Hey, you got your mic, right?" He then asked. Bee popped out of his trance almost immediately, and nodded excitedly. He reached into his back pocket and pulled it out. "Bee-dep?" He then asked the other, and he nodded, a light smile on his face.

Bee seemed ecstatic to sing for him again, and so he did, gaining Nene and Darnell's attention as well over some time. Just like at P.E, they listened to him sing for quite some time. It was calming, Pico would argue he enjoyed it the most.

"You know, you should hang at my place sometime. I got games and stuff." Pico offered, about an hour after Bee's little jam session. "Beep?" He turned to look at him. leaning against the bars of the playground structure. "I mean, I live with Darnell when my dads go off in the army. Oh, you get to meet my dads sometime! They're cool. I'll be completely honest, one of them will tease you for speaking in bee-bops." He then snickered lightly at the thought.

"Baps?" Bee tilted his head, holding up a two with his fingers. "Yeah, technically, I call them both dad. They're real close, but they're not married or in a relationship or anything." Pico then hummed softly. Sure they also sleep in the same bed when they're at home, but that's just because it's more comfortable than bunkers out where they are.

Bee hummed in thought, then nodded. Cool. It's a date.

Yes, he meant to think that.

It's a date.

Pico's mind swirled with thoughts of what he could do when they met up again. He pulled one of the donuts out of his back pack. It was a little mushed, but still good. He ate at it slowly, wanting to savor the taste. He could eat cold donuts, they were fine. He caught Bee staring at him again, then raised a brow. "What? What's up?" He then asked, his voice muffled with food. Bee's cheeks flushed, and he pointed at the donut. "Oh.. I can give you a piece." Pico looked down and tore off a piece of the treat, handing it to Bee, who took it thankfully. He popped the entire piece in his mouth, a happy "mmmmffff" emitting from his throat. Pico laughed a little. "You like donuts, huh?" He teased him, and Bee curled up a bit, still chewing away happily so he could get every little bit.

Pico spent the rest of that afternoon with the three. Darnell and Nene definitely understood Bee a little bit more after today.

Even if it is just a little bit.

#picos school #darnell pico's school #nene pico's school #boyfriend x pico #fnf boyfriend #fnf girlfriend #cassandra pico's school #nene x girlfriend

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