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sanccharine · 2 months ago

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damnation in disguise

pjo au

pairing: ??? x child of ares!reader

genre: action

word count: 3.9k

warnings: descriptions of blood and injuries, includes violence, murder and gore – please don’t read if you are uncomfortable !

summary: why was everyone following you? monsters. satyrs. gods. you couldn’t catch a break.

a/n: thanks to indigo (@eternallyghosting) for fixing up my english, it was horrendous prior to her witchcraft

Shoving away the meek satyr and watching as he crumpled to the ground should have made you feel remorseful.

But you were bleeding. But also bloodied. And exhausted. And worst of all, angry.

“I told you to stop following me around,” you said over your shoulder, stopping at the end of the alley, careful not to step onto the pavement. Hiding in the shadows and peering onto the street.

You only stopped because something wasn't right. Cornered in this alley with a ginormous butchered boar and a nervous satyr behind you wasn’t your idea of a typical day. Although you could argue you don’t have or know such a thing as a typical day.

Your typical days had stopped as soon as you ran away from home. Maybe even before then. Maybe you had no idea what a typical day was even like.

This was the life of a demigod.

No, what bothered you was the sense of being watched. And to make matters worse, you were unable to pinpoint from where or what it was that watched you. You didn’t like it… though you could argue again that you didn’t like many things.

The streets tonight were quiet. You couldn’t really call it night anymore as the first tendrils of light had begun to brighten the sky. Despite the early hours, the sun was nowhere in sight, only the full moon casting a picturesque glow over the lonely street. Somewhere far down the alley, you found a drunkard stumbling his way back home. But apart from him and the rare taxi that zoomed past, you were completely alone, save for the dead boar and feebly bleating satyr. So, who was watching you?

You knew you weren’t just imagining things. In your life, gut feelings were almost ninety-nine percent correct. Especially yours. So you weren’t in the habit of ignoring them when they’ve always guided you down the right path.

Toying with the growing splinters on the handle of your double-bitted axe, you watched the street with a steely gaze. Not minding the blood threatening to soak deep into the very wood of your axe. Not minding the slight ache from where your arm locks into your shoulder. Not minding that your axe needed a new handle on top of needing to be sharpened. It was still a lethal weapon, especially in your hands.

“Reveal yourself,” you said. More of a whisper into the night but it was still a command nonetheless.

“I don’t think that is smart—”

“Come on!” you said, anger seeping into your skin readily like the blood did into your pores.

That’s when you noticed the scent. Acrid, pungent, sharp. Like acid.

You had to breathe through your mouth to avoid the burning sensation down your nose, though that only made your throat itch and your eyes tear up. The grip on your axe tightened until the wood hurt your palm, you were ready to swing… but unfortunately, you knew you shouldn’t.

“Don’t—”

“I know, satyr,” you grit out, before asking once again, “Show yourself!”

A blinding light appeared, akin to the headlights of a car. Yet, it was directly opposite you, perpendicular to the street. Then you supposed it was another monster, perhaps with glowing eyes. However, when the lights only grew in size, covering your vision in white, you knew who it was.

“Look away,” the satyr behind you said. Almost pleading, if you could call its weak bleating that. “Please.”

With your free hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, you relented. Merely hiding your eyes would do nothing. So you turned your whole head behind, your torso and most of your body moving along, but with your feet rooted in the same position. Ready to swing… even if it was a god.

“Easy, child,” a young voice called out. Of course, her appearance was just that… an appearance. A veil the gods used to hide, from you, and from themselves. The voice matched. “Look at me.”

Blinking away the blind spots in your eyes, you slowly turned to come face-to-face with the Goddess of the Hunt herself. Artemis.

“You’re following me too?” was the first thing you asked.

“Watch it, kid,” a new voice spoke from behind the goddess.

For the first time, you saw a hunter of Artemis. Like you’d heard from the satyr that followed you, she wore a silver jacket and a circlet… something to assign her as the goddess’ right hand or the like. She was beautiful, all regal-like. Maybe she was a princess before she swore to hunt with Artemis, yet whoever she was, you knew her looks deceived her true age. While she looked not that much older than you, there was no guessing her real age. The same way Artemis took the appearance of a young child, looking even younger than yourself, when she was in fact not mortal at all.

However, what you should have been really focused on was the silver arrowhead, nocked and pointed at your head. Despite all your prowess in battle, even you knew you’d be dead before you could even decide to swing your axe. While it made you hesitant to fight, it didn’t really scare you.

The satyr let out a scared bleat while Artemis only chuckled, her hand raising to tell her lap dog to lower her bow. “It is fine, they are always like this.”

You glared in equal measure at the hunter, who huffed out a bit before lowering her bow. Though her arrow was still nocked, all she needed to was raise it again and let it soar.

“You sent the boar?” you jutted your head over your shoulder and Artemis leaned to your left to peer at it.

“It was our hunt,” the goddess chuckled again before returning to look at you. “But it would seem someone butchered it.”

“You sent it on purpose—”

“Watch it!” the hunter said again, almost hissing at the same time the satyr bleated out your name and hurried to the Artemis’ side. He began bowing over and over again, muttering apologies on your behalf.

You only rolled your eyes, it was an honest question. Nothing of this sort was a coincidence in your life.

“Not this time, child,” the goddess smiled, “but you’ve proven yourself once again. It is no simple task, slaying my boar. That too, alone.”

You only stared at her, already predicting the question before she could ask it.

“My offer still stands,” Artemis said. “Swear to me and join my hunters. I will bless you. I will protect you.”

“And my answer still stands,” you reply, “I do not want to be your lackey.”

“M’lady, give me the chance and I will—” Artemis only raised her hand again to stop her lieutenant from shooting straight through your eye like you were the game they hunted.

“Your father—”

“Where is he?” you asked and Artemis frowned, no doubt noting your contempt.

“I am not here on his behalf,” she quickly corrected herself. “But he has aided you more than he is allowed to—”

“He’s pulling a lot of strings only to not show up?” you spat out, unable to resist the contempt souring your tongue. “All of these tricks, blessings, and gifts… offers of protection… for what? Afraid to speak to me?”

For that last question, you looked up at the sky. You knew no god appreciated that.

The satyr beside Artemis only covered his face with both hands, almost crying. The hunter looked appalled. But Artemis only chuckled, again.

“You are lucky to still be standing here, child,” she said with a smile, it was almost warm.

“I don’t know about luck,” you say dryly, raising your free hand to gesture from your head to your knee. Almost every part was coated in crimson that was drying up.

“No, then, not luck. It is your father. He protects you, like many gods and goddesses are willing to do so—”

“If I listen to them, right?” you ask and Artemis’ smile drops. “Help them? Swear to them?”

When you use her own words, she sighs. “Get to the camp, child. It is not far. If you will not accept direct protection, then at least do not be foolish and decide not to be amongst others like yourself.”

You wanted to defy her. Again. Like you have the gods. And your own father over the last year or so. But you were also exhausted. You cannot escape this. That is what your mother had said. This is your life. This is who you are. A demigod.

And that won’t change no matter how much you denied it.

“Nothing will change.” It was a statement, because it was true.

Artemis gave you a look, an expression almost foreign on the goddess’ face. Something like concern or pity, but whatever it was supposed to be, you knew it was genuine.

“This is your life, child,” she said. “Your fate… it cannot be changed.”

“Right,” you let out a sigh.

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you turned to the satyr. He looked up at you, his hands just slightly lowering from his face. You didn’t have to say the words for him to understand. His whole face seemed to light up… no doubt, because of the rising sun, nothing else. He straightened himself and then bowed to the goddess in gratitude. He also pulled out a little sapling from his shoulder bag. Why he would carry such a thing was beyond you, but he presented it to the goddess and she accepted with a nod.

“Am I supposed to give you something too?” you asked, half-mocking but half-genuine.

“You could begin with giving respect, kid,” the hunter said, scornfully.

“Watch it,” you said with a scorn of your own. Her face morphed into a deeper sneer but Artemis lightly pushed the hunter behind her.

“Control your emotions,” Artemis said calmly. “You are not acting yourself.”

The hunter looked at her goddess, a little taken aback for a moment. Almost insulted at the scolding before realizing it wasn’t a scolding, but a warning. Then the hunter looked at you. As if looking at you in a new light.

“I understand, m’lady,” the hunter bowed and Artemis chuckled.

“Can’t help it, can you?” you shrugged, not necessarily to mock them.

You were being honest. There was no controlling the subconscious power, at least you hadn’t figured out how to control it just yet. But it was like a mist around you, provoking people into frustration and anger just by being in your mere presence. Though you doubted you needed such power from your father, something told you would have managed to do that even without being a child of Ares.

Taking a step back, the tension leaving the hunter’s body was visible. Even more so when she didn’t respond to your question.

“I would heal you, but I fear you would not accept it,” Artemis said with something like another warm smile, this time more genuine than the last.

“I’ll live.”

“And you have,” she nods.

There was a silence between the four of you as the sun finally rose. Artemis watched the sky lighten and the world awaken with that kind smile of hers.

“The gods watch you,” she was still smiling as she said it, but you knew what it was. A warning.

You nodded, reverent for the first time as you bowed. “I know, m’lady.”

You are not without respect. Or without order. Or manners.

There just haven’t been reasons for you to give that to anyone. It was all unearned. And you’re sure the gods knew you thought so. But they have yet to smite you down. Like she said, it was your fate. You were still… needed.

With another bow, you turn to the mutilated boar. “I offer my kill to you, Lady Artemis. Please accept my hunt.”

It was no sacrifice or offering. But merely a challenge you intercepted.

Artemis chuckled and when you looked at her eyes, they were glowing silver faintly, and for a moment it looked like the sky darkened. She’d accepted.

“Your journey to camp will be successful, child,” you nod at her call. There was a faint tingling in your fingertips. That acrid smell again, sharper than earlier. “But not easy.”

It was finally your turn to chuckle.

Artemis had been right.

The trip to Camp Half-Blood was far from easy. Having survived alone for a year, fending off monsters, you thought it would be smoother… but it was as if the universe decided you weren’t supposed to make it to the camp.

Every street, every turn, every corner had something waiting for you. This went further than a challenge or test. If it was testing anything, it was testing your patience. Your satyr—protector, he called himself ironically—was a nervous wreck. Though you surmised it was you who he was nervous of and not the monsters you faced.

On the way, he offered his meals to you—of course, the very rare actual foods and not soda cans or plastic bags—but you told him he could save it for himself. You preferred to steal wallets from non-assuming tourists and get yourself some proper meals… snacks from vending machines.

Restaurants always took too long and the wait made you antsy. Your protector didn’t approve of the method, and never had in the past year, but he had become tolerant of your behaviour and you of his.

Of course, he was not completely useless… that sounded harsh. But you couldn’t help but feel somewhat protective, even if you hated the feeling. He was always shaking, jumpy, a well of anxiety trotting on goat legs.

In the rare times that neither of you could sleep or bear the silence of the woods you trekked through, you would let him prattle on about the camp. Not only had you deprived yourself of a sanctuary for the past year, but also him of a home as he chased after you. Raving about the strawberry fields and the woods around his home where some council was held, all of that seemed to calm his trembling. So you let him talk, not necessarily listening but not necessarily ignoring him either. It was no trouble. Besides, you don’t think he cared if you listened or not… he’d learned you’re not a conversationalist.

But despite his disposition, it was clear why he was chosen to guide you to this camp. Scared as he was, he stood his ground. Pulling out his flute? Pipes? Whatever it was to cast magic and spells. Not your preferred weaponry, but it did help in battle most times. His keen sense of smell did steer you clear of monsters on the main roads and also guided you through the woods. Without him, you would be running circles around these trees. He also found a clearing with running water for you to get yourself at least slightly cleaned up before heading to camp.

While it was appreciated, it was useless. Most of your injuries were surface level, closing up on their own or scabbing over. You were able to clean the dirt and grime from underneath your nails and the dried blood from your skin. In the process, you found more bruises and scars scattered across your body. Your reflection looked foreign to your own eyes, you’d aged so much in a year. Eyes darker, sunken into your cheeks, sharper and narrowed permanently. Lines across your forehead and between your eyebrows, etched into your skin in a way that no amount of rubbing seemed to erase. Skin a bit marred from the sun, lips chapped and dry, though those were less important. It still made you frown. Shaking your head you looked away, a hand coming down to splash away the reflection.

Then it was the matter of your clothes. The true uselessness of water on fabric drenched and soaked in blood. Your jacket was your test trial… no amount of scrubbing could erase the splatters. So instead you just decided to wash it in the water for the sake of freshness rather than spotlessness. Your protector nearly bleated himself into an early grave and excused himself when he saw you cleaning your clothes. He was so strange. What else did he think you were going to do?

After the clearing, it was the worst of it all.

The satyr had mentioned earlier that the camp was protected and being surrounded by woods it was more likely to have many hidden monsters. It was only a matter of when you’d come across one.

There were three of them. Spindly and coiling, snake-like. Perhaps reptilian but not exactly. Midnight coloured, a rotund head with what you assumed was tendrils of who knows what. Instead of a tail, however, they had legs like a forked tongue, unsure whether they wanted to slither across the ground or walk with their disjointed bones.

Your protector said something. The name of the monsters perhaps. Not that it registered in your ears. You were already charging towards them.

For the most part, you were impervious to attacks, though it was a power that seemed to be selective. You still hadn’t figured that power out either. But you took your chances, you always did. And while injuries were bad, you figured they would eventually heal on their own.

So you threw up your free hand to block one of the monsters while swinging at the other. The third chased after the satyr, but he just ran around playing his instrument, surprisingly fast given the terrain. You supposed the goat legs helped.

Using your bare hand was a terrible mistake. The tendrils weren’t tendrils. They were jaws, with tiny rows of teeth, latching onto your skin like leeches. And just like leeches, they tore at your skin when you pried them off. A blood-curdling scream left your throat grating and burning, sending the nearby birds scattering from the woods in a flock.

Tendon… you saw the tendons of your forearm. Skin peeling like a wrapper from where it should have been covering your muscles. It wasn’t the pain that had rendered your arm useless, it was the shock. In fact, the pain barely registered at this moment. It fell next to your side, like a rock in the water. Immobile and shredded.

Panic was beginning to creep in… it was something you couldn’t afford at the moment. You had to eviscerate these monsters before they did you.

Blinking away the tears and the faint growing sensation of immobility from your injured arm, you swung your axe with a grunt. Blade cutting clean through the neck of the monster, disintegrating into dust right in front of you.

Your head spun and your ankle rolled on uneven ground. But you turned to the monster that had sunken its maw in you. Tearing it off from you seemed to hurt it as much as you. Its screeching was unbearable, its head gnawing at the ground. You had to kill it.

The blood loss made your steps falter and your vision blur, but your aim was good enough. Raising the axe above your head, you brought it down to its neck. Your knees buckled when your axe hit the ground, disintegrating the monster. One more, there was one more.

Blinking away the tears, you looked up. Your heart stopped.

There it was. The entrance to the camp. If the arch with the name wasn’t a dead giveaway, it was the growing crowd of orange humanoid blurs. Scrunching your eyes again, you turned to find your satyr.

He was still running around, heading near you. Swinging the axe to a tree, you pulled yourself up, releasing a sound that was between a grunt and a whine. Your strength was depleting, that much was clear when you tried to keep tugging at your axe to pull it free from the bark. It wouldn’t budge.

Your voice said something. You were sure. But you doubt it was comprehensible because your protector, even with his keen senses, only looked confused. Frustrated, you yelled what could be your last word.

“Move!”

And just as he turned at the last minute, you pulled out the axe, the weight of the swing guiding your attack more than your strength. Your axe unevenly lodged itself into the body of the monster, its head still writhing trying to get at you, but you stumbled onto the monster, driving your axe in. The monster disintegrated.

Done. You were done.

Your protector was crying himself. His red and blotchy face came in and out of your vision as he tried to pick you up. A huge mistake on his part, another scream left your throat and you shoved him aside with your axe hand. It was the only limb in your control.

Holding the axe to the ground, you stood up on shaky legs and dragged yourself to the camp entrance. Your satyr arrived by your side, more than wise enough now to not touch you, despite wanting to help. The injuries on you made him sick. But he held it all in to the best of his ability.

The satyr was right. Artemis was right. The gods… they were right.

The camp was a sanctuary.

The moment you crossed the threshold, it was as if you were given a shot of adrenaline. For a moment, your vision cleared, the pain subdued. Just enough to keep you from taking your last breath.

Plunging your axe to the ground, you kneeled, heaving while your vision turned red for a moment.

It was the gasps that made you blink away the blurriness. Gulping, you looked up at the crowd, much larger than before. They didn't look at you. No, they were looking at something above you. There was a faint idea of what it could have been. It explained the shot of adrenaline.

You tilted your head up to see the remnants of the glowing red symbol; Ares had claimed you as his progeny.

Happy, you should be happy. Instead, you spat out blood to the ground with a groan.

Your injured arm tingled, attempting to heal itself. Attempting being the key word. Besides, not that it could replace the dizziness in your head. You looked up again, hoping to see a face. Someone to ground you. To bring you a sense of normalcy. To remind you that you were part mortal too. Anything human, anything normal, anything typical before you pass away.

Almost as if drawn to her, your eyes found a young girl arriving at the front by weaving through the crowd. Her shoulder shrugging away the hand that tried to stop her as she approached the very front. She had to be your age, or at least, looked it… but looks can be deceiving. She was…

Not human.

Your eyes narrowed, a sneer forming… or an attempt at it with how you bared your teeth.

She was not human. Couldn’t be.

She tried to move closer but someone tugged her back harshly. Before you could guess their next move, before you could tighten your grip around your axe again… darkness consumed your vision.

The ground soared up to you and you were gone.

Not that you knew it at the time, but your last image was of the young girl who would come to be very important to you.

Minatozaki Sana.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: happy new year, i don't think i said it, so yeah !! have a good day/night !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli

#damnation in disguise #mala's collection #sanccharine #indigo's archive #eternallyghosting :]#twice x reader #jype twice #twice imagines

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sanccharine · 2 years ago

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15:34 | mm

pairing: assassin!momo x handler!reader

summary: good speakers are good liars, too bad momo is neither. co-written by @eternallyghosting chapter summary: momo finds a gun

word count: 1.2k

masterlist

Marriage was a huge step. Despite all you had been through in your life, it would not be an understatement to say this was the biggest decision you had made.

To upend everything and leave the tiny one-bedroom home you’d known all your adult life was a huge step.

Concluding this trifecta of huge steps, there was also the fact that you were now the permanent handler for Agent 64.

But that was great, wasn’t it? Having a permanent job meant a permanent salary, which was what had led you to make the decision to move houses.

Well… except, Agent 64 was none other than your wife.

You didn't know if you should be thanking the universe or questioning it. On one hand, you got to work with her every day, and no one knew her better than you did. On the other, would you have it in you to knowingly send her on missions? There was a lot to unpack, metaphorically and literally too, as you stared at your stacked cardboard boxes.

It was just so many phases of your life that seemed to change in an instant and all at the same time. At least, you weren’t alone.

Momo called your name from somewhere deep in the house. After what seemed like endless months of house hunting, the pair of you had finally settled on a villa in a small town. After all, your requirements for buying a house were different from most ordinary people; you needed a place secure enough to ensure utmost safety for you and Momo, but also somewhere unostentatious so as to not raise any suspicion. Hence, the modest villa in the middle of nowhere.

You still hadn’t figured out the layout of this villa. That will need to be amended.

Wearing a warm smile, you thanked the kind neighbour who had brought meatloaf. Hopefully, your smile was believable. You were tired and you were busy. You didn’t have the heart to ask—Mr Jones, he said his name was—what meatloaf even was and whether you could even eat it. No matter what, you knew for certain Momo would gag and refuse to.

You closed the front door and made your way to your kitchen to drop off the welcome gift. Your house was a mess of moving-in boxes and plastic-wrapped furniture, a layer of dust coating everything.

It was going to be a while before everything looked and felt like a proper home.

Momo called your name again.

Dusting your hands off on your pants, you made your way upstairs.

“Where are you?” you called out, hoping for a clue that would make it easier to navigate.

“I’m in the master bedroom.”

Well, that was easy enough. That was the door at the very end. Also, the only one that was completely ajar.

You entered the room to a funny sight.

Momo stood by the foot of your bed frame, the luggage she’d packed all by herself strewn open by her feet. Her hands were on her hips and her head tilted to the right. She wore a pensive look as she stared at the closet. Suppressing a giggle, you moved towards her while folding your arms.

“I feel like we should talk about this,” Momo said, unnecessarily serious.

“Talk about what? Who gets more closet space—?”

“No, the gun.”

“Wait, gun?” your smile dropped with your hands as you turned to look in the closet.

And there it was, a standard pistol. There was no real flare to it, yet it sat as if it were a stolen treasure at a museum. The gun was the only thing placed in the closet, enclosed in a stark white space, angled diagonally.

You frowned, this had not been mentioned in the inventory.

“We have a gun?”

“We have a gun,” Momo nodded, her eyes not leaving the gun for even a single second.

You turned to look at Momo and then back to the gun. There was no engraving on the side, no code, no sticker, and no marking at all to identify this gun. You itched to get your hands on it, to make sure you weren’t missing anything though you doubted that would be inconspicuous.

This was not from your organization.

“No, no,” you said slowly. “Momo, you have a gun.”

Momo finally turned to look at you.

She stared at you.

You stared back at her.

“Momo, why do you think we need a gun?” you asked with the same energy you’d use to coax a rabid coyote on the street.

“Uh… protection?”

“Do you have a license to own that gun?”

“I have a license.” You figured as much.

“Are you trained to use that gun?” That was a stupid question.

“Uh,” Momo dragged out the word. She either tried to pretend to be flustered or actually was with your line of questioning. “Yeah, I’m trained.”

“Do you think you could kill a person?”

Momo’s face paled.

Now, you were just fucking with her.

“Uh… Um, yeah, I think I could, sure,” Momo looked anywhere but at you. “Like, I mean, like, in self-defense? Protection, you know. Probably could.”

“Okay, cool,” you couldn’t help but smile at Momo’s fumbling. “You have a gun to protect us.”

“Yeah, no, hmm…” Momo hummed, scratching the back of her head. “We have a gun. It's for our protection. It’s our gun. You know, for both of us?”

The emphasis on sharing the gun didn’t fly over your head, but it was still confusing. You just waited for Momo to get to the point herself.

“Do you know—”

“How to kill a person?” you blurted.

Momo bristled. “No, what? No!” She visibly shuddered at how nonchalantly you asked that.

Was Momo a good actor? Or was she just terrified of you seeing the other side of her?

Well, you knew the answer to the former. The latter had to be true. Her sentiment was sweet.

“I was going to ask if you know how to shoot a gun?”

“I mean it can't be that difficult to figure out, right?” you smirked with a shrug. Momo was not comfortable at the sight. “Point and pull the trigger, right? I think I can do that.”

For good measure, you raised your hand to draw a finger gun and pointed at her.

“Pew, pew and,” you blew raspberries while gesturing an explosion by your head. “Headshot.”

Momo was absolutely horrified. Having joined your organization first as a freelance agent before being moved up to be permanent, she had no idea that you were one of the best marksmen your unit had seen.

“Okay, I’m signing us up for a gun training class.”

“Oh, come on, I was joking!” Momo had already pulled out her phone, looking for classes. “I doubt we'll even use it!”

“You don’t know that.”

Well, actually, you did know that. In fact, it was your job.

It was Momo’s as well, but she had a ruse to keep up.

“Gun shooting date, can’t wait!” Momo only sent you a look. “What? I’m serious!”

“Yeah, sure.”

“No, no, actually, I am very serious about this,” you sighed. “Thanks for bringing this up, Momo. It’s important.”

It really was.

With a nod, Momo pocketed her phone and returned to the pose you found her in. Hands at her hips, head tilted and eyes dead focused on the gun. “So we have a gun.”

“We have a gun,” you agreed.

Let’s hope we never have to use it.

any feedback is much appreciated.

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli

#a game of hide and seek #mala's collection #sanccharine #indigo's archive #eternallyghosting :]#momo x reader #twice x reader #momo fluff #jype twice #twice imagines #momo imagines

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sanccharine · 2 years ago

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@eternallyghosting

Im just feeling a certain way rn

#reblog shit you coward

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sanccharine · 1 year ago

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gay

great deductive skills

#mala's asks #eternallyghosting :]#indigo :]

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sanccharine · 1 year ago

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this slays, i can't wait for all the upcoming angst ha ha ha

lol that is if i write it

#uni this year is going to be rough ha ha ha #mala's asks #eternallyghosting :]#indigo :]

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sanccharine · 1 year ago

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thanks for tagging me, ace !

yeah,,,this sounds about right •_•

i know they’re laughing at this result so i’m curious what @eternallyghosting and @someone-who-likes-broccoli will get !

Tagged by @happilychaengs

No pressure tags @panda-writes-kpop @kingmaker-a @neon-city-dreams @sanccharine @let-them-read-fics @bansweesforu

#love you ace ;-;#tag games #dark-night-insomniac :]#ace :]

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sanccharine · 1 year ago

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hey mr. co-author, so when we co-authoring again ?

not you coming here to ask, go to sleep !!!

#mala’s asks #indigo :]#eternallyghosting :]

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sanccharine · 1 year ago

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What has been the most fulfilling and/or enriching part about this account?

(also 300 ! whoo <3)

thanks for asking, this is a great question !! now point where it is on the ask post *stands with hands on hips like a dad*

but in all seriousness, the most fulfilling has to be meeting and talking to new people, and making friends. even if it is just screaming in the tags, the interactions are so fun. the friends i've made are probably why im still here ngl

and im sure you can understand, we've had so much fun with agohas it is kind of insane HFKJSDHK

#not you asking your own question #and it isnt even about a fic #breaking all the rules #such a rebel wowowow #mala's asks #eternallyghosting :]#indigo :]#300 followers milestone !!!#ask games

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sanccharine · 1 year ago

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number 15 for burning pile

if your answer isn't learning how cool and funny i am, then don't answer 🤠

15. What did you learn from writing this fic?

i learned i really like writing bloody angsty shit more than domestic fluff/comfort. i also learned people don't appreciate our alternative summaries ;-;

no it wasn't learning about how cool and funny you are, please stop embarrassing yourself

send me asks !

#mala's asks #eternallyghosting :]#indigo :]#300 followers milestone !!!#ask games

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sanccharine · 1 year ago

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Number 11 for hufflepuff!tzu

(he isn't even there yet ;-;)

11. What do you like best about this fic?

honestly im blanking,,,hmm probably the dynamics/friendships between characters, especially the slytherin quidditch team for this fic in particular.

(he'll be there very soon, but i feel like hes funnier in my head than what i will write, i'll need your advice)

send me asks !

#mala's asks #eternallyghosting :]#indigo :]#300 followers milestone !!!#ask games

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sanccharine · 4 months ago

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im bored so pick one:

1. knock knock vs what is love

2. closer vs abcd

3. got the thrills vs push and pull

4. mamushi remix vs neva play

5. espresso vs espresso

·_·

1 . knock knock

2. abcd

3. got the thrills

4. mamushi remix AND neva play (megan thee stallion give me one chance, im free this friday !)

5. espresso is better

#what are you doing here #don't you have shit to write #mala's asks #eternallyghosting :]#indigo :]

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happilychaengs · 4 months ago

Text

sososososo good

y/n teetering between that line of handler/spouse is lowk nerve racking. i’m excited for if or when momo founds out

05:53 | mm

pairing: assassin!momo x handler!reader

summary: good speakers are good liars, too bad momo is neither. co-written by @eternallyghosting chapter summary: momo needs a fucking break

warning: feelings of anxiety and burn out, brief mentions of killing and weapons (generally assassination related themes)

word count: 5.8k

a/n: assassin!momo is here early bc of indigo, everyone say 'thank you indigo' !!! NEED TO MAKE THIS EXPLICIT AS POSSIBLE, AS USUAL I DIDN'T DO SHIT <3

“Good work in Johor Bahru, 64. The organization wants you to leave for Bergen right away. Proceed to the airport immediately. I’ll be sending over travel details soon.”

You were met with silence.

“64? Can you hear me?” Momo didn’t answer.

You sighed, “64, I know it’s a bit of a long flight.” That was the understatement of the century. “But at least that’ll give you some time to recuperate before the next mission, right?”

“I don’t need to recuperate,” Momo mumbled.

You hesitated for a moment. Clearly, she needed the rest, you didn’t know why she wasn’t being honest.

“Listen, 64, I know it’s hard—” you began.

“I don’t think you do,” Momo let out a derisive laugh. You swallowed the rest of your sentence.

“Alright, I’ve obviously hit a nerve but I think—”

“I’m not asking you to think! Or sympathise! Or whatever it is you’re trying to do,” Momo spat. “Maybe just do your part of the job and I do mine, yeah, Hippolyta?”

This was a new development. But not unfounded.

“Sorry,” she said after a few seconds of awkward silence, the waver in her breath caught by your sensitive earpiece. “Sorry, I’m just tired, alright? Please go on.”

“Uh, alright, as I was saying. After this, your Costa Rica mission has been pushed forward by a week. The client wants the cartel taken out as soon as possible,” it was difficult to give her the next order. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave for San Jose as soon as you wrap up in Bergen, 64.”

You tried not to let the disappointment show in your voice. Your organization was currently going through an overdrive, which meant more missions kept piling on, leaving no rest for Momo. It had been weeks since you had last seen your wife, last hugged her, or held her.

She reflected your disappointment as she just sighed. It must be harder for her.

“Hey, 64,” it was so hard to be personable when you couldn’t say her name. You hoped your voice made up for it. “I’m sorry, I know—”

“You know nothing!”

Whatever calm had come across her in the last few minutes instantly vanished.

“You know nothing of what it’s like! What it’s like to be out here for hours on end! To stalk and hunt and kill! Actually, you know, it’s not even about lying in the dirt, or carrying around heavy weaponry, or eating shit for days just to stay undercover. That I can deal with,” Momo let out another scoff. “It’s the waiting that gets to you—it’s the travel, it’s the constant seeking of approval just to get back home… ”

Once she started, it was hard to control everything bursting out of her. Although she had become pretty comfortable with Hippolyta, and often shared random conversations with them, this was the first time she had let anything personal spill. You couldn’t help but startle initially, but now you just sat there taking the verbal lashing. This wasn’t your fault, you were aware of that much. So why did it feel like it was?

“Mo… hmm, I—” you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying her name. Your heart ached for her. Not just because she was away from you, but also because you couldn’t share this burden with her. You couldn’t help her lighten the load.

Not as her handler. Not as her Y/N.

You waited for Momo’s breath to even out. When she didn’t say anything, you decided to start again.

“I may not know what it’s like being out on the field,” you had to tread carefully here. “But I do understand what it’s like being away from your loved one.”

Your breath hitched when you admitted that. Neither of you had ever let something this personal come into your agent-handler relationship before.

“It’s just the kind of job we signed up for,” that’s all this was. A job. “I won’t deny it’s a shitty situation, but after that one week, you’re done. You can go home. I promise you that.”

The long silence almost had you double-checking the connection of the call.

“Hey, 64, you there?”

You were met with silence.

“Agent, I need an affirmation.”

“... Alright,” she whispered.

It wasn’t much, but you’d take it. After all, Momo had never strayed from official orders before. Not enough to risk her job, at least.

“Wait, what? So you’re telling me—”

“Yup, I’m in Bergen right now.”

“Woah, how did that happen? That must’ve been an insane journey!” you sounded fake to your own ears. You hoped Momo didn’t catch on.

“Yeah, remember when I didn’t answer any of your texts a few days ago?” Momo let out a laugh, there was no mirth to it. “I was on a plane the whole time.”

“I just assumed you lost track of time playing Candy Crush or something.”

That did bring a real laugh out of her.

“Well, that too,” she said. “Did you know I’m on level 651 now?”

“Real impressive, babe,” you said toying with the earpiece, discarded on the coffee table from your last call. “But anyways, when are you coming back from Bergen then?”

She paused. You saw her pacing around her stuffy hotel room as she hesitantly answered. “Well, actually, I don’t think I can come home right away. They’re sending me to Costa Rica tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the tiny box on the screen from time to time. You hated how fake your expressions looked, how you couldn’t be honest with her even when she needed you most.

“I’m so sorry. It’s some internal management thing,” Momo let out a frustrated groan. “They need someone who’s at a higher position to open up the San Jose branch. Just my luck it happened to be me they chose.”

Momo’s disappointed tone broke your heart. You knew this was coming, of course you did, but hearing it once again from your wife’s mouth made the distance much too real all over again.

Still, you tried for a smile.

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure San Jose will be fun. I’ve heard they have amazing museums there!” Knowing how upset Momo was about the constant travel made you want to try harder to be supportive. “Maybe you can go and take goofy pictures in front of the sculptures like we did that one time in Prague, remember?”

Unfortunately, it seemed that no efforts to cheer her up would work this time. She let out another long groan and threw herself on the bed. Bringing the phone really close to her face, she said, “I really just wanted to come back home. I’m sorry I keep doing this to you.”

Shit. Of all the times to have video called Momo.

Averting your eyes from her teary ones so that you wouldn’t cry too, you attempted to comfort her.

“I know how tiring it must be to constantly travel, don’t beat yourself up over it, Momo. And don’t worry about me, okay! I’m fine, truly! I’ll keep everything up and running here while you whip rookies out there into shape. It’s what we do, right?” you were trying to convince yourself instead of her. “Besides, Mr Jones invited us for dinner and I know you really don’t want to have to sit through that again, right?”

“Still, though,” she whispered, “you shouldn't have to go through that by yourself. I'd rather sit through that than here all alone.”

Oh Momo. If only she knew that you were aware of what she was going through.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll distract him and ask about his ‘good ol’ golfing days’. That’ll have him chattering on for hours,” she chuckled at that, although it was muffled since half her face was pressed into the pillow. “And I’ll also go down to the store and buy those berries you like so I have a pie ready for you when you come home. We’ll spend our time relaxing. How does that sound?”

She nodded sleepily. Momo must be exhausted to the point of falling asleep right there on call.

You doubted she heard you but said it anyway.

“Have a good night, Momo. I love you.”

[11:52] Momo: im boarding now Y/N: Have a safe flight! See you soon <3 Momo: me too, cant wait to be home aaaaa Y/N: I’ll be waiting with your pie!

[16:37] Momo: just landed! Y/N: How was the flight? Momo: eh Momo: were you gonna pcik me up or should i take a cab Y/N: You’ll have to get a cab, sorry. I tried rescheduling it but the town committee meetup is at our place tonight. Momo: omg i legit forgot they still did those Momo: i can take a cab dw Momo: you must be so busy Y/N: Yeah, I’m just making sure all the snacks and drinks are ready. Y/N: Might have to make one more grocery run actually.

[17:20] Momo: found a cab Momo: should be home in 40 mins

She sighed. You must be really busy or else you rarely left her on read.

As the cab neared your street, she could see a crowd of people already gathered around the house. This was what living in a small town was like. Everyone knew each other, and so of course, offered to get together to help for any event you held, no matter how small.

They have nothing better to do with their lives.

Okay. Perhaps, that was a bit harsh.

Thankfully, Momo managed to slip into the house, unnoticed by all the townsfolk laying out chairs and tables filled with plates of snacks that you had made. Her stomach grumbled upon seeing all the food, but she hurried upstairs into your shared bedroom before dropping her suitcase and rushing to change out of her travel clothes.

What she really wanted was a long hot shower, maybe even a soak in the tub, but fresh clothes would have to do for now. On her way out of the room and down the stairs, she bumped into you.

“Y/N!” she yelled the same time you screamed. “Momo!”

This would be an incredibly stupid way to die, the voice in the back of your head said, you shushed it quickly and leaned on the stairway railing. The shock had subsided quickly and was replaced by elation; you hugged Momo as hard as you could with the cutlery in your hand.

You broke apart apologetically. “I’m sorry, I wish you could take a rest but the meeting’s starting soon and we’re still missing a few things.”

“No worries,” Momo shrugged it off, though there was no energy in her voice. “Anything I can do to help?”

You passed over the handful of cutlery to her as you hurriedly stated, “Yeah, could you just lay these out for me? And I think we still need to pour some juice for all the kids.”

Momo nodded and went down the stairs two at a time. As she rounded into the kitchen, she wished she’d taken a minute to mentally prepare herself for all the questions the neighbours would no doubt ask her.

She was right. As soon as she went over to the table, she heard. “Oh Momo, when did you get back? Y/N was telling us how you were away for really long.”

Momo forced on a polite smile, she had no idea who she was talking to. Perhaps having files on her neighbours might help, she thought to herself. She made a mental note to ask Y/N how they remembered all these people. “Yes, I had to travel quite a lot for some business-related things, but I’m just glad to be home now.”

“Where was it you went to? Malaysia, was it?” Momo’s vision blurred for a second. “I remember Y/N telling us we had to cancel the meeting two weeks ago.”

“Mhmm, Malaysia. Then Norway. Now, I just got back from Costa Rica.” Might as well just tell them everything. Sure, why not. Momo tried not to be scornful, she really did.

“Good Lord, Momo! How do you even manage all that?” That was something Momo wondered herself. “It sure is nice you have Y/N to manage everything here for you while you’re away.”

A burning sensation grew at the corner of her eyes, she would’ve rubbed them if her hands weren’t full of forks and spoons.

It was a seemingly unharmful statement.

Well, no.

There was a bite in there somewhere, Momo was just too exhausted to dissect it.

Momo ignored the scratchy feeling in her throat and turned away hurriedly, mumbling something about getting the juice out. As she approached the refrigerator, she unceremoniously dropped the cutlery on the counter. She opened the fridge, the cold air doing little to alleviate her tension. When she pulled out the carton of apple juice, she was undertaken with the sudden urge to leave. Being at this gathering was taking more of a toll on her than she had thought.

Momo needed to be alone. Now.

She walked into the pantry and into the cabinet Y/N made sure to leave empty ever since they’d found out about her meditation space. Well, Momo thought bitterly, it wasn’t just a meditation space now, was it?

Momo crouched down, hugging her knees and seeking comfort in the familiar darkness. She could still hear the faint voices of people as they rushed around the house, but this was the best she could do right now.

When Momo closed her eyes, she could feel every muscle pull taut. A headache bloomed at her temple, building down her face until even the act of breathing felt painful. She tried to focus on the warm scent of the ciabatta loaves you always had stocked up. How the bread broke and crumbled as she took a bite. How adamant you’d been to get the best stand mixer available. How you took your time to shape the dough and how Momo had flattened it with one motion.

What she wouldn’t do to just have a simple sandwich with you.

No loud music. No clanging cutlery. And definitely no nosy neighbours.

Just the two of you.

The pain seemed to slowly ebb away, she could finally breathe. Momo had no idea how long she stayed like that. She didn’t want to leave but she couldn’t even text Y/N to apologise for leaving them alone because she’d forgotten her phone with her luggage.

However, she didn’t have to wait long before the pantry door opened.

Momo hid herself deeper in the cabinet when a knock came on its door, an excuse ready on her lips should she be found…

“Momo,” your voice was soft, she wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t pressed to the door. “It's me.”

Momo visibly relaxed when she heard Y/N.

“Can I come in?”

The answer was the opening of the cabinet door.

As soon as you lowered yourself onto the floor, Momo launched herself into your arms, clutching onto you as though her life depended on it. Confused by the sudden outburst but also suspecting what could have brought it on, you just gathered her closer and gently brushed her hair with your fingers.

“How did you… ”

“Find you here? Couldn't see you in the crowd so I figured,” you shrugged.

“Can we... can we just stay here for a moment?” she sniffled, burrowing her head into your neck.

“Momo, you don’t even have to ask. I’m here for you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a long time intertwining your limbs against each other. You rubbed up and down her arms gently, taking deep breaths so she’d mirror you and relax.

When her breathing returned to a normal rate, you pulled back slightly to look at her face. Although still pale from hunger and exhaustion, she looked considerably better than she had a while ago.

“How’re you feeling?” you whispered.

“Still tired, but I’m okay now,” Momo said, her voice raspy. “Thanks for staying with me.”

You took a moment to take her in. The dim light couldn’t hide the bags under her eyes or how bloodshot they were. She had a pallid complexion, something you would’ve rushed to treat, but instead, you had this stupid meeting to run. But even then, Momo tried to put on a smile for you, as small as it was. Smiling, you pulled her in to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

With a sigh, you pulled away from her. Her face was held up by your hands. “Although there hasn’t been any yelling or crashing yet, I don’t think it’s right to leave them without a host for too long.”

Momo languidly nodded her assent even when the rest of her body reacted differently. She pressed her forehead to yours until your noses were touching.

Momo deserved to rest. And you wanted that for her too. If possible, you would have stayed here like this all night long. But alas…

“I should probably head back,” you whispered. Momo only hummed. “but you can stay here longer if you—”

“No,” Momo mumbled.

“No?” you asked, not wanting to pull away first.

Momo did it for you. She exhaled a deep breath before pulling back, her eyes finally looking at you.

“No, that's fine,” Momo said, shaking her head before helping herself up. Then she extended a hand to you. “We should host together, shouldn’t we?”

“We really should,” you took her hand and pulled yourself up. “I’ve already canceled this three times, I think they’d flip out if it was only me out there,” you said with a grimace.

Holding hands, you exited the pantry together.

Thankfully, everyone was too caught up in the snacks you’d made to comment on your disappearance. Momo just ignored the few stares thrown her way. Making your way to the front of the living room, you called for everyone’s attention and began the town meeting, steadfastly holding onto Momo’s hand the entire time.

Although the townsfolk had also helped in clearing up after the meeting, there were a few things only you two could rearrange as the people living in the house. You wanted Momo to go upstairs and rest while you quickly cleaned up, but she was as stubborn as ever and refused to leave your side. Fortunately though, having two people definitely made the job go quicker, and before long, you were heading into the en-suite to draw a bath for Momo.

You turned off the hot water at the temperature you knew Momo liked most before adding a spoonful of lavender bath salts to the water, your gift to Momo from when she had returned from a mission complaining of sore muscles. She smiled gratefully at you as she slipped into the tub, leaving you to once again sit on the cold floor beside her. Not that you minded, you’d take any proximity you could get. The both of you just sat there, basking in the comfortable silence as Momo relieved her weary body.

Eventually, you spoke up, making sure to be cautious in the way you approached this topic. “Do you want to talk about what happened downstairs?”

Momo looked at you with a look, a knowing one, but she turned her eyes away quickly.

“What? About Hector?” Momo managed to laugh, it almost sounded real. “Yeah, it was funny when he stood up and demanded we vote for a stop sign near the corner store, only to realize we’ve had it all along and he needed to change his glasses prescription.”

“Momo,” you took her hand that was laying on the edge of the bathtub. “Seriously.”

She finally turned to face you with a sigh, deciding not to run away this time.

“I was doing as you said, the cutlery, that is,” Momo’s finger intertwined with yours, she trained her focus on your joint hands. “Someone was asking me questions, I don’t know who, asking about my job and where I’d been and whatnot… and then suddenly,” she paused to take a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears.

You brought your other hand to engulf hers and rubbed your thumb across the back of her hand in circular motions.

“Suddenly, out of nowhere, they said something about how I’m lucky to have you manage everything around here while I’m away,” she trailed off, a small scoff escaping her. Momo mumbled, but you caught every word. “Well, not out of nowhere, they are right. I am lucky. I’m never here.”

“Momo…”

She continued, talking through her tears, not bothering to wipe them away as they slipped down her cheeks.

“I just… you’re the one who always has to manage things around here. I just feel bad, you know?” Momo straightened, turning her whole body to face you as an odd resolve washed over her. “Like, I’m always busy flying around somewhere but you always accommodate me and my work. But I don’t do anything like that for you? Actually, what do I even do?” At that, you wanted to stop her, but she kept going. “I guess I feel incompetent? I’m just equal parts grateful for you but also, I feel guilty.”

That was a lot to take in. Momo was never one to bare her soul, so for her to say all this meant she had been bottling it up for quite some time.

“Well, I see it differently,” you leaned in as you formed the words in your mind. “You’re doing all this to provide for us and you work so hard for it. This house, everything we have, is all possible because of you. I could never be upset about that, Momo.”

“I guess,” Momo sounded unconvinced. “But like maybe I could do more local work? That way, I could stay at home with you and work?”

“As tempting as that is, I can’t ask that of you. I can’t say I don’t miss you when you’re gone. And of course, I love having you around.”

You spoke slower so the words sunk in.

“But you’re doing what you have to do,” you tried to be as vague as possible when saying the next few words. “I mean, your company sends you all over the world because you’re a hard worker, and a really good one at that. No one is going to be able to do what you do anytime soon and I’m proud of that. Of you.”

Momo didn’t say anything, she was staring at something behind your head. Her eyebrows were furrowed together; for once, you couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“But the work itself… ” she trailed off, still staring into the distance.

That confession, if that was what she was planning it to be, had you on alert. You had to be careful here. Somehow, you had to glean Momo’s feelings about her ‘actual job’ without asking outright questions about it.

“What about the work, baby?” you asked. The term of endearment felt sour on your lips. Momo didn’t look at you.

You had to bite your tongue from interrogating her. Is it monotonous? Is it stressful? Are you having second thoughts about killing? Do you want to be transferred? What’s wrong? What can I do? How can I fix it?

She didn’t speak for a long time.

Panic was beginning to sink its claws into your skin. You were a good liar, but not that good.

Fortunately for you, Momo began once again.

“The work… I mean, sure, every job has its own boring routine and mine does too. It is exciting at times and I’m good at it too, which I can’t confidently say for a lot of other things,” you wanted to interrupt her and tell her how wonderful she was, but she spoke over you. “And I don’t really want to quit right now because we’re also earning decently.“

“Enough for an early retirement in the Swiss Alps, right?” you uttered before you could even think about it.

When she had first been accepted as an agent by your organisation, Momo had excitedly jumped around your tiny one-bedroom flat. Making big talk about how the two of you would buy a cottage in the Swiss Alps and go skiing every day in the winter and strawberry picking every day in the summer.

Reminiscing about the memory bought a real smile out of her. “Exactly.”

But the smile slowly faded as she kept talking. “I just… wish I didn’t always have to keep traveling. I barely get a few days with you before I have to fly out again. And I know that’s a part of my job, it's just that this time around was too long.”

You silently agreed. What was the organisation thinking, making an agent go three weeks out in the field, one mission after the other. You don’t even recall how many cups of coffee you’d downed just to keep up with the time differences.

“Well, you’re here now,” you placed a kiss over your joined hands. “And we’re going to make the most of it. Hopefully, you get more than a few days this time.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” she repeated, although she sounded anything but.

You bit back the long sigh and nudged her instead, looking for a way to divert her attention. “I couldn’t tell you before, but your pie’s waiting for you in the fridge.”

Momo sat up at that. You jerked back to narrowly avoid being splashed by water. “Me too! Well, not a pie but I did manage to bring back a dessert called Cajetas this time. I didn’t have time to taste it but the lady selling them told me they’re a staple.”

Her eyes finally regained their usual shine at the mention of the two of you sharing desserts. It had been a longtime tradition for you to bake her favorites when she came back from a long journey, and for her to get local items you both could try together.

“Unfortunately, I’m too stuffed now,” she finally relaxed into the tub, tipping her head back. “Those finger sandwiches were delicious Y/N. What did you put in them?”

“Love,” you said dreamily, before pressing another kiss to the hand you were holding. Momo pulled away and cringed. “What, too much?” you laughed, “besides, I don’t think they were that amazing. You were just really hungry,” you said, poking her shoulder.

Momo just hummed as a comfortable silence fell over the pair of you.

Although the bathwater would’ve been cooler by now, she looked too comfortable to be asked to move.

By the time Momo finally got out of the bathtub and into the towel you were holding out for her, the water had gone completely cold.

“Ugh, my skin is all wrinkly now”, she complained.

“Hmm I don’t know, it’s giving me a good idea of what you’d look like in another thirty years.”

“And?” she twirled around. “What do you think?”

You gave her a once over. “I think… I think I’ll stay with you for more than thirty years if that’s what you’re going to look like.”

After a quick change into your respective pajamas for the night (with you having to change again due to a mock water fight you two had), you ushered Momo into bed.

“Are you not sleeping now?” she asked, when you didn’t get into bed with her.

“Just about to, don’t worry,” you replied, straightening her edge of the comforter, effectively tucking her in.” Mariko asked for an order of cupcakes for her kindergarten class next Tuesday, so I’m just going to make a note of that before I forget.”

She pouted, drawing out an arm from under the covers and pulling you down by your sleeve. Leaning down, you had no choice but to look right into her puppy-dog eyes, nearly shutting from exhaustion were it not for Momo resisting her body, fighting to stay open. “I wanted to cuddle but I’m already,” she broke off into a yawn, “falling asleep.”

You kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, I’ll be back before you know it,” you whispered.

“G’night,” she mumbled with drooping eyes.

Your demeanor changed the minute you left the bedroom, gently closing the door behind you. Throughout the evening, you’d noticed how burnt out Momo seemed, and this late-night conversation further proved that she desperately needed a rest. You grabbed your laptop and keyed in a call to your organization, late hours be damned.

“Hippolyta to HQ. Calling in regards to Agent 64.” You waited for the call to go through.

After a few minutes of having to listen to the ridiculous call tone they had put in (seriously why on earth would someone want to listen to that Piña Colada song while they waited to make a serious report), you were about to pull out your earpiece and give up when a bored robotic voice answered, “Hippolyta, your call has now been cued. State your report and wait for an agent.”

You cleared your throat before saying. “As her handler, I believe Agent 64 is in need of a short leave, allowing her time to recuperate and be mentally on track for any and all future missions.” Hopefully, that should be enough to get an agent connected to you.

After another couple minutes of listening to the godforsaken song, a voice sounded on the other end. “This is Baklava to Hippolyta. Your report has been recorded. Do you have other details you wish to share?”

“It’s exactly as I said before. I noticed a change in Agent 64’s behaviour and mental state through her last couple missions, and I believe it would do her good to take a temporary break.”

“Agent 64, huh? Let me see, I’ll pull up her file here.”

“Oho,” you heard after some shuffling on the other end of the call, “so this is the infamous Agent 64 and Hippolyta. I see. Well, I’m afraid I have to deny your inquiry and cannot grant her the break.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, surprised that a decision had been made so quickly. “Why?”

“Clearly, her being your wife makes it a point of personal interest. We can’t really have that, so she’ll continue on her missions as usual.”

“Excuse me, but in all these years, I have never let personal feelings get in between our working relationship.” You could feel your anger rising and had to be careful not to raise your voice too much, lest Momo wake up. “In fact, as her handler, I have made sure to push her exactly as much as she needed to get her missions done. She has a ninety-eight percent success rate, only possible because we don’t let personal feelings get in our way.”

“Nah, but in this case, Agent 64 has not filed for a break herself. You doing this on her behalf shows vested interest.”

You didn’t know if it was because of the late hour, but this conversation with Baklava was going nowhere and you were starting to get frustrated. You sighed.

“What’s the matter, Hippo, going soft for your wife? Is that it?” the voice sneered.

You saw red. No one except Momo was allowed to call you that.

“Grant Agent 64 the break or else you’ll lose not only your best assassin but also one of your best handlers,” you gritted your teeth.

The line suddenly cut.

Fuck.

You didn’t really want to have to go through the whole process of reporting your inquiry again, but for Momo you would do it another hundred times.

Just then, a new voice was heard through your earpiece.

“Hippolyta, this is Shooting Guard. Your report has been transferred over to me.”

Shooting Guard… the name was familiar to you.

“Hippolyta speaking. Not sure how much of my report was transferred over but it’s in regards to Agent 64.”

“Oh yes, I know about your wife, Hippolyta. What’s the matter?”

It suddenly hit you. Of course Shooting Guard was a familiar name. He had been an agent a year above you at the training centre, a hardworking and calculative senior, but friendly once you got to know him.

“Well, I know the organisation has been working through some things right now—” you heard a scoff on the other end, “but 64 has been on individual missions for three weeks straight. She would never say this outright but I can tell the constant travel is getting to her. As… as her handler of course, not her partner,” you hurried to add, lest you were misunderstood once again.

To your surprise Shooting Guard said, “I believe that being her spouse makes you all the more attuned to how she’s doing Hippolyta. And with your spotless record so far, having a spouse as a handler doesn’t seem to be working negatively at all.”

“Does that mean you can get her leave approved?” you asked, hopeful.

“Well, that’s the difficult part. In your words, the organisation is working through things right now,” he chuckled without mirth.

“Please, just get her a psych eval or something. Anything that grants her a break,” you were coming across as pleading when you should have been firm, but Momo’s wellbeing was at stake here.

“Let me see what I can do.” You heard him hum as he clicked on various files, rearranging calendars and rescheduling appointments, no doubt, before he finally broke the silence.

“I can give her two weeks. That fine?”

“More than fine. Truly, thank you, Shooting Guard,” the stress visibly left your shoulders.

“Don’t mention it. The agents around here need a fucking break anyways.”

You logged off the call once you got the final approval that your report had been accepted. You couldn’t wait to see Momo’s joyous face when she would break the news to you tomorrow. But for now, sleep was calling.

As you made your way back upstairs, a smile spread across your face at the thought of spending the next two weeks with your wife. When you entered your bedroom, Momo was fast asleep, sprawled across the large bed, somehow taking up enough space for two people. You shook your head fondly as you turned off the lights, slipping in beside her. As if sensing your presence, she pressed herself closer to you, wanting to be together even in sleep. You looped an arm around her torso and held her tight.

Yes, you certainly were excited to spend two weeks with her. But most of all, you were glad your bed would be warm with her presence again.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: so that poll... y'all be impatient as fuck (and i be lazy as fuck bc i think i was the only one who voted for this being split JLDFKSHFK) anyways happy misamo day and have a good day/night !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @happilychaengs

#sanccharine #eternallyghosting #fic recs #highly recommend

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