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naomikozura · 5 months ago

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Playing With Fire: Chapter 4

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: Strong language, use of weapons, trespassing, angst, trauma, emotional turmoil, mentions of Reader’s past, bribery, reader being a smart ass. (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 9.3K

Summary: What happens when the one person you're supposed to kill, is the one you have a moment of shared recognition and longing with? What happens when your loyalties are questioned?

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3 || Chapter 5

The massive web of connections on the investigation board that laid on your coffee table made your brain go into overdrive. The clutter of maps, papers, photographs, and notes all pinned on the board and scattered on the couch and the table, it all slowly brought together your task at finding the direct hit to taking Red down. It had been a week since he broke into your apartment and threatened you, leaving you feeling more motivated to take him out than when you first started this assignment a month ago.

You had spent the majority of your time analyzing his patterns, putting together every hit he made and every operation under his watch. Each job, each stakeout, each tiny detail leading you closer and closer to dismantling his entire criminal empire.

You leaned forward, taking a quick sip from your wine glass before placing it on the table, pinning another point on the board, a meeting he had held with some of his partners that you scoped out. It was a normal monthly check-in, his partners updating him on the scope of the land, the hits they had taken, and the mention of the abduction of Amazo resulting in a failure. It was one of the final straws that made Black Mask's inquiry with Penguin. Amazo was supposed to help Sionis rise in the ranks, solidify him as a powerful hand in international trafficking. The entire operation stopped by none other than Batman and Nightwing. They also were pinned on the board, it wasn’t likely they were connected to Red, but they were on the board anyway. Any encounter was important. You laid back into the couch, soaking it all in as you crossed your legs, contemplating your next move. You could set a trap, lure him in and get him off guard.

It was a thought, but he was calculative and smart. He would probably see your attack from a mile away. You needed to plan around his strengths and expose his weaknesses.

You laid your head against the back of the couch, looking up at the ceiling before making your decision, your head lolling to the side and taking note of the time. It was still early. You could make it to the next point of contact.

You let out a breath, pushing yourself from the couch and changing into your stealth clothes, securing your mask above your nose and pulling your hood over your head, falling into the alley and speeding down the streets to your pinpoint location.

The air was thick with tension, the wind blowing as you slipped into the shadows of the abandoned factory, moving silently to not be caught by any potential security measures. You kept your breath even, scanning through the night with your night vision goggles, trying to find any sign of movement or suspicious activity.

Your eyes instantly locked on the black figure moving through the building, its movements calculated and careful, blending seamlessly into the darkness and staying practically invisible. You moved into the room, carefully treading as you moved towards the beams above the room, the walkway hanging from the ceiling, trying to stay hidden as you watched Red. He kneeled, watching as he pulled up a device that downloaded information from the data box that was wired in the wall. You felt your heart race increase, the plan playing through your head as you tried to focus. Your muscles tensed, waiting for the perfect moment to get him off guard.

Once Red stood, you pushed yourself off the walkway, your feet taking the majority of the impact as you kicked him, his head snapping to the side and landing on the ground, launching back at him with your knife as you cut through his arm. You felt his grasp as he slammed you to the ground, your anger taking over you as you jumped over him and grabbed his head, trying to snap his neck only to be met with him wrapping his hands around your ankles, twisting your body and forcing it on the ground. He slammed you down, his body crushing yours as you tried to aim your dagger at his throat. You felt a solid, forceful punch in the gut as he dug his knee into your side. Each of his hits met with equal force, your body tangled with his as you rolled and landed on top of him, your face meeting his crimson helmet as you tried to force the knife into his jugular, his hands forcing the knife to come to a halt as it shook in your grasp.

His eyes narrowed at you, a subtle scoff as he forced the knife out of your hands, disarming you as he wrapped his legs around your body, forcing you into the ground his leg forced against your back as he shoved your face into the concrete. Your breath hitched, gasping for air as the heat of his body burned through her, his intensity causing her to struggle underneath him.

“Getting better, sweetheart.”, Red’s voice was low, the vibration flowing through your bones in an eerie sensation. “Almost had me that time.”

“Get… off me.”, you struggled, your cheek pressed firmly on the ground as you struggled against his grip. His hold was unmoving, his presence full of lethal power. You met his gaze, his body heat causing your skin to burn, trying to push him off of you.

You could not let him get the upper hand, you strained against him, using all your force to get out of his grasp. You struggled to get to your feet as you felt his hand clasp around your wrist, spinning you around until your back was pressed against his muscular chest, his voice echoing in your ear.

“What are you doing here, (Y/n)?”, his voice rumbled in a deep octave.

“You know why motherfucker.”, you forced out, the venom laced in your voice as you glared dagger at him behind you. “You need to be taken care of.”

“Taken care of? Sweetheart, you’re so sure of yourself.”, you could hear the humor in his tone, the smirk that probably lingered on his lips under his mask. “You don’t think you could possibly take me down. I’ve gotten you three times in a row, don’t act like you’re better than you actually are.”

“And you think you’re big and bad?”, you spit at him, you annoyance growing, the extinguished fire reigniting itself as he held you in an iron grip. “You're a nobody, Red. You only have this hold on weak men because you can’t rise to the ranks on your own. You are nothing without Black Mask and Carmine’s rings.”

“You got a smart mouth on you. Talking about being a nobody.”, He grabbed your face, forcing your head closer to his. “Take away Penguin, take away your connections, take away everything that brought you into this life. Who are you?”

Your jaw clenched, your anger setting into your bones, your vision turning red at his obvious bait. Taunting was always his best card to play in order to get a rise out of you. There was nothing you hated more than people second guessing you, invalidating your work and efforts to get to where you were.

“I’m the one who’s going to fucking kill you.”, you seethed. “I’ll be the one collecting that bond on your head, and when I do, I won’t ever have to deal with your bullshit or Sionis ever again. I’ll be free to leave.”

His grip tightened, making your jaw ache from the force but you refused to flinch at the pain. You were getting under his skin, you could tell by his ticks. Looks like he also hated being second guessed.

“You think you’re untouchable, but you forget that you’re just human. You can die just as easily as the rest of us. It’ll be the greatest pleasure to watch the life drain from your eyes when I put a bullet through your fucking skull.”

“Watch your fucking tone.”

“Does it bother you knowing that you have no real power? That you’re nothing without taking territory and men from other crime bosses?” His eyes narrowed, the anger radiating off him in waves. He was trying to maintain control, but you could see the cracks in his composure. His grip on your face felt like a vice, but the pain was secondary to the satisfaction of getting under his skin.

You smirked at him. “I’ve dealt with worse than you and always received my payment. You're just another obstacle, another name on my list. And believe me, I’ve got a solid kill count.”

“Solid kill count yet you can’t make the shot that will actually count.”, he taunted. “You can’t touch me. You underestimate me and that is your biggest mistake.”

He shoved you away, making you stumble but you caught yourself quickly, standing tall despite the ache in your jaw. He paced, his fists clenching and unclenching, the muscles in his neck taut with barely restrained fury.

“Careful,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Your smart mouth will get you killed, sweetheart. I’ll break you. Slowly, painfully. And when I do, you’ll beg for the end.”

“I’d rather die than ever have to beg you for anything.”, you watched as he straightened, his body on guard as you focused on him, ready for when he’d attack.

He lingered a moment, his gaze piercing into you as if he could see the very core of your being. Then, without another word, he turned, heading towards the door. The room seemed to exhale as he reached the exit, the air thick with the weight of his threat.

"This isn’t over, Red.", you spoke out as he walked away.

"No, it isn’t.", he called out. Just as he was about to leave, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing with lethal intent. "If you follow me, I'll shoot you.”

The door closed behind him, the loud slam echoing through the room, leaving you standing in the middle of the room with your fists clenched at your sides and your gaze focused where he stood. There was a burning sensation in your chest, an anger that penetrated deep within you.

You wanted to scream, to punch something, to make him feel even a fraction of the rage he had put within you.

You stayed silent, the frustration boiling beneath your skin. You knew you couldn't afford to let it consume you. Not yet. There would be a time for anger, a time for revenge, but for now, you had to bide your time.

You need to be smart.

You need to be patient.

You would make the Red Hood regret ever doubting you.

Breaking into a high secured building seemed a lot more difficult than it was, bypassing the security system to run on a loop in order to not be caught. You slipped past the few guards inside, noting that the building being “highly secure translates to only three guards being on duty.

One at the entrance, one by the invaluable pieces of art and jewels, the last navigating the rest of the building, floating so his movements were unpredictable. It didn’t matter though, especially since you’d already made it inside. You needed to find the office and grab the intel you needed.

You moved around quietly, your all black suit helping you blend into the night as you navigated carefully through the halls. The downloaded blueprint of the building located the office was only a few doors down. Looking around the corner you noticed an opening, quickly going through and sliding into the dark office.

You skimmed through the office, taking note of the files cascaded on the table. Your eyes notice different company names and a long list of names. Lifting the paper, you noted it was a guest list. For what you couldn’t care less. This wasn’t what you were here for.

The file cabinet caught your eye, picking the lock and opening the first drawer, looking through the files quickly to find the one you were searching for.

“Always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong” the sound of the deep, distorted voice made you jump, turning around quickly as his body was already pushing yours against the cabinet.

“Red”, you seethed.

“What are you doing, Y/n?”

“That’s my business. Not yours.” you countered, trying to discreetly find an out. He must’ve noticed because he moved his face closer to yours. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t worry about what I’m doing, sweetheart”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, trying to push past him and move to the other side of the room, but right as you did you felt his hand wrap around your arm, pulling you into him. Your heart started beating, pounding in your chest as the adrenaline told you to find an out. You trashed against him, his arm wrapped across your chest to hold you in place as his gloved hand covered your mouth. You kept fighting him until his back was against the wall, your back flush against his chest, slowly calming down as you saw a small light illuminate the floor.

A guard.

You watched the floor light up, the flashlight scanning through the room as your heart pounded in your chest in hopes he wouldn’t go deeper into the room. You sank into Red’s hold, relaxing in his warmth. A part of you, the delusional part of you, found a sliver of comfort in the way you were against him. You could feel his heart in his chest, even and calm. How was he so calm? You pushed the thought away as you watched the light disappear down the hall, the door clicking as it closed and locked as the footsteps descended down the hall.

Once the click sounded, you snapped back to focus, turning away from him once you realized the position you were in.

“Thanks”, you muttered, forcing the gratitude out like it was acid.

“So you do know how to say thank you”, he teased before you snapped your head towards him, glaring daggers as he backed away.

You turned back towards the filing cabinet, skimming through until you finally found the file you needed.

Gotcha.

You turned, Red’s eyes focused on you as he sat in a chair nearby with a leg over the other and his arms crossed. He stayed silent, almost as though expecting you to answer but you didn’t.

“Let me guess. The file is in Sionis”, you contemplating answering him. “Why do you have bad blood with one of your boss’s partners?”

“Why would I tell you about my bad blood with Sionis?”

“So there is?”, he countered quickly.

“He… He’s a dog. He needs to be taken down a few notches, humbled.”

“That why you let me go so kindly?”, your jaw clenched. “You said it was spite, i’m assuming it’s because of him?”

“You’re making me regret not shooting you in the mouth.”

You opened the files, skimming through the information to confirm it was Sionis’ file. You placed it under your arm, turning to walk past him. He stayed silent, not questioning your actions until you paused.

You were still angry with him. Even more so than usual and yet him being here didn’t stir any emotions inside of you. It left you feeling confused at why he was so hot and cold. If you were the enemy to him, and you killed all his operations why didn’t he take his free shot to kill you?

Was he waiting for something to happen? Did he expect something to pop up and then he would take the first chance he could to get rid of you?

It didn’t make sense. He was so adamant the other day that you were probably the worst thing that could’ve ever happened and yet he stood five feet away from you watching your every move and not even trying to stop you from escaping with the file.

Why?

“They tasked me to kill you. I won’t do it because Sionis doesn’t deserve an easy out. You die, he regains his position as the top of the food chain and I’ll do anything to keep that from happening. Don’t think this is because I won’t kill you, because I think we both know I can.”

That was the last thing you told him before jumping on the table, jumping up and pushing the window open and climbing to the roof before running home.

The file contained an entire run down on Roman Sionis, his background, his upbringing, his family and criminal ties, even why the Sionis and Two-Face were at odds with one another. You needed to find a weakness, an opening to knock him down a peg, something to keep him from becoming the top dog in Gotham’s underground.

Ever since you met the man, you’d despised him. Your meeting went back longer than the meeting at the Lounge. You were certain Black Mask never recognized you, but you remembered him from when you first tried to gain footing in the underground. He’d sent his men to beat you to an inch of your life when he’d found you trying to steal from him to try and get some money. You were still weak, small, barely 16 and your appearance had changed a lot since you were a teenager. He’d left your body bloody and beaten, left to be attacked by others but you were able to drag yourself into a sewer drain and let yourself rest until you could find a way to tend to your injuries. It was the same time Penguin had taken you in.

You’d chosen this life to get away from the ghost that haunted you. You couldn’t go back to the family, go back to Gotham Academy, after Robin disappeared, you wanted to put that entire life behind you. It was easy to have all your problems solved, but you couldn’t be in that life without thinking about him. He’d made everything bright, made living with the family tolerable. The only way to get over him was to leave the life he made so bright behind.

That life never suited you, and you were fine with it. You’d rather work with Penguin and get the money you needed to leave by your own hard work, not because some rich family was giving it to you.

Sionis had ties to Arkham Asylum, being admitted there a few times before leaving and getting more of his business to take off. He had ties to almost every major criminal that was locked behind bars there and you wondered if there was something deeper in his connections. He already called one of those connections in and was set to be released soon. You let your brain overwork itself until you couldn’t focus anymore.

You couldn’t handle this, you needed a break, needed time to just be alone and bask in your own emotions. You let out a breath, pushing out of your chair and stretching your legs. You needed to get out, go on the field and do some real work, but your job with Calvi had taken up a good chunk of your time. You still needed him to be in contact with Penguin.

You pulled out your unmarked phone, dialing Calvi’s number, hearing the line ring twice before he answered.

“Calbera speaking.”

“Hey, Calvi. It’s Vivian.”, you said with a smile in your tone as your face remained neutral. “I was just calling to set another time to meet.”

“Vivian, it’s nice hearing your voice again.”, he said in a smooth tone, “Yes, we can set a time. How does tomorrow evening sound?”

Tomorrow.

You felt a tug at your chest as you looked at the calendar, your mind unsure of your answer before you heard him call your alias through the phone. Tomorrow was too… raw, but you needed to get this job done sooner than later.

“Tomorrow is perfect. I look forward to seeing you Calvi”

“The feeling is mutual. See you tomorrow Vivian”.

The line went silent, your eyes still focused on the calendar before turning and heading to bed, looking out at the sky as the small light from the stars barely shined through due to the light pollution. It was enough though, enough to get a good idea of what it would be like to see the stars in full effect.

“I want to go out to the mountains, like camping or something.”, you squint your eyes trying to see the stars over all the light from the buildings around you. You couldn’t see the stars that well but you imagined them well enough to see what they could possibly look like.

“We could go, you know?”, Robin looked up, standing next to you as the wind blew your hair and ruffled his own. “Let’s plan a day to go together.”

“I don’t even know who you are behind the mask and you’re asking me to go camping with you?”

“I could tell you.”, he shrugged. “I don’t see why I couldn’t talk to Batman and see if he’d let me.”, you stared at him, a part of you in shock at his openness to ask his mentor to let him reveal such a huge part of himself. The thing that made his identity a secret. Was he really willing to risk it all for you?

“Yeah, I’d like that”, you smiled at him before looking back up, the breeze wrapping around you like a blanket of comfort.

The next evening came quickly enough, the time slipping by as you busied yourself with getting ready and heading over to Calvi’s estate. The butler taking you inside and Calvi waiting for you in the foyer. He smiled at you with a charming look, reaching a hand out and leading you into his main sitting room. He fetched you some wine, the same red you had at the club a week ago when Red had barged in and ruined everything. You were still angry at him, beyond pissed, but the anger had dwindled with the days as you started to focus more on things that did nothing but cut you open on the inside.

Calvi talked mindlessly as you paid minimal attention to his words, everything flowing in one ear and out the other, your responses dry but you covered them up well with your eye contact and body language. He didn’t even notice just how detached you were from the situation and you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore than any other day. Today just wasn’t a good day for you. It brought back pieces of your past that left you to shreds and made you feel forgotten.

“Vivian, would you like to accompany me to a Gala being held in a month?”, you snapped up to him, your eyes focused on him as he stared at you.

“A Gala?”, you asked softly, still trying to focus on what he mentioned before this.

“It's an annual Gala held by some of the most prestigious businessmen in Gotham, every major partner, business owner, and A-list celebrity will be there. I’ve gotten a special invite to be honored for the evening for my business and would like to bring you as my plus one.”, he placed a hand on your knee, his eyes focused on you and hoping you’d say yes.

“An evening in your honor, that sounds…. Amazing.”, you replied softly, smiling as he focused on your lips. “I’m flattered that you’re asking me. Of course I’ll go as your plus one.”

“Great, I’ll forward you all the information you need. I think it will be a good way to celebrate the past two weeks of getting to know each other.”

You forced a smile at his words, noticing that he was taking this relationship in a different context than you had hoped. This was your way to get him to switch from working with Red to working with Penguin. You just needed to find the perfect opportunity to get him talking about his deal with Red and somehow steer to Penguin.

“So, Red Hood?”, you asked quietly. “I didn’t expect you to have ties with someone who’s been running rampant and causing a fuss on the street. It’s been all over the news recently.”

“He provides good protection, helps me get an upper hand in my operations and doesn’t let black market intel slip into the wrong hands. I think it’s a pretty secure system.”, he leaned back, taking a drink of his whiskey before looking over at you again. “Why the sudden interest, my dear?”

“No particular reason. I just know there are a lot more established people who run the crime rings. That’s all”

“How do you know about the crime rings?”, he raised an eyebrow at you, questioning you for a moment.

“Let’s say, I like to dabble in what goes on in Gotham’s underground matters. The rich, upscale life is too…. Boring.”, you confessed. It wasn’t a lie. Upper Gotham was boring and only consisted of rich assholes parading around like everyone owes them something.

“That is very true. I don’t think I can help make it less boring, can I?”, he motioned slightly, cocking his head as his eyes bore into yours.

“You already managed to make it less boring with our meeting at the club last week.”, you smiled, a mischievous grin painting your features. “I like seeing that side of things. It might be dangerous but…. It left me excited.”

His eyes darkened at your words. You were playing your cards right and he was slowly falling into it. You needed him to further bring up the topic, until then your hands were tied and you could only wait as he focused on your features.

You had your hair in a loose ponytail, one that wasn’t underdressed but not overdone either. It was a perfect inbetween that matched your laid back attire of a basic white tee and tan dress pants with your exposed necklace perfectly tying everything together. It was simple yet classy, not over done but not underdressed.

“I can bring more excitement if you want to join in on future meetings. Of course, if you’d be interested.”, your smile didn’t reach your eyes but you were good at covering it up with false excitement.

“I would love that, Calvi”, you touched his hand, clasping it and rubbing your thumb on the back of it before he leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead before kissing the corner of your mouth.

“I look forward to it then, my dear.”

You felt absolutely nothing. Yet, you couldn’t help but imagine if life would be more simple if you had been with someone like Calvi. Handsome, rich, intelligent, and able to hold his own when it came down to business and the underground. You wouldn’t lie to yourself, you knew he was successful and had a hand in the black market business, but you didn’t fall so easily for the charm of someone who had too many flaws, hidden secrets, more skeletons in the closet than you cared to deal with. His family business was dirty and their reputation was filled with all sorts of shady upbringings. Calvi was not the type of person you got involved with in any way that was for anything other than business.

After your meeting, he led you to the front, waiting for the car to come around and take you home, but you had requested the driver take you to another location once you had said your goodbyes and hopped into the car. The driver only nodded and drove 20 minutes to the other side of where you were supposed to be. It was late, almost 10pm. You hadn’t noticed your meeting with Calvi had been so late but that’s what happens when you agree to meet at 7pm instead of earlier like regular people. Once you arrived, you thanked the driver and got out, letting the wind hit your face as you walked down the street and up to the building that overlooked the water.

You rounded the building, finding the ladder shaft that led all the way to the top of the building. It was a tall climb but you didn’t care. You wanted to feel a sense of exhilaration climbing up so many floors just from the side of a building. You had been trained properly to ensure you wouldn’t fall and you didn’t. You reached the roof in ease after 10 minutes of climbing up the long ladder.

You walked over to the ledge of the building, over where it overlooked the rest of the surrounding areas and looked down at the place that once brought you good memories and feelings of happiness. You sat on the ledge and focused on letting yourself just bask in the moment.

It was chilly outside, your legs pulled up to your chest as you watched the water. It’d been a while since you came here, your heart constricting at the distant memories you’d shared with the Boy Wonder. It was secluded and no one ever came up here, it was perfect to just wallow in the past of everything. There were parts of you wondering if you came here enough, if he’d somehow show up too. You scoffed at the thought before fiddling with the pendant on your necklace that was perfectly exposed.

It wasn’t too long ago that you came back and sat in your own company to grieve through losing him. You never found out why and the closure would never present itself. You wanted to give him every excuse, every reason why he didn’t return but in the end it was to only ease your hurt.

Footsteps behind you broke you from your trance. The silence grew as you slowly turned your head, meeting the exact person you already knew it was. You were too tired, too burned out, too emotionally unwell to even be angry at his presence.

“What are you doing here?”, his voice questioned through the voice distorter, his distance making him easy to hear but still kept him far away enough to not come across as a threat.

“I come here all the time.”, you muttered, not caring to fight with him today. Especially not today.

“That wasn’t my question.” he repeated himself. “What are you doing here?”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to look at the water without answering him. Did he follow you here? He had a bad habit of keeping tabs on you when he needed to mind his business.

“Y/n.”

A simple call. Simple yet demanding.

“What?!”, you snapped. “Why are you following me? Just go away, give me peace at least today! You can go back to trying to kill me tomorrow, hell at midnight if you want but just go!”

He stopped in his tracks, the blanket of silence falling over you again. You noticed the sockets of his helmet move, his shoulders tensing as he looked at you, likely taking in your emotional state. You’d never shown a level of vulnerability to anyone before, but you were so close to breaking. The heat and pressure behind your eyes growing by the second.

Today was the day he’d left. The day he didn’t come back. You needed to be alone. You needed to process the hurt that you still carried in your heart. It was the only thing that made you weak and you hated it. How did some boy make you weak after fighting all those years to be strong? How was he your Achilles heel?

You could feel him still standing behind you, your lip quivering as you forced yourself to stay composed. His boots shifted before he walked to the ledge, standing there and staring at the water with you. You looked at him silently, trying to gauge why he was here. He didn’t say anything, just stood quietly as you sat on the ground with your legs to your chest and your chin resting on top of your knees.

The silence felt…. comforting.

He didn’t say anything else, you didn’t speak. You just basked in the silence together and it felt like he was giving you a silent form of support. You noticed his body relaxed, his muscles resting instead of flexed and ready to fight.

The heaviness in your chest grew into an overwhelming ball of emotion, but you forced yourself to push it away. You couldn’t break down in front of him.

You just couldn’t.

“I had a friend I used to meet here”, he spoke finally. “Seems like it was a lifetime ago”

You looked at him, your eyes softening at his confession. “Yeah. Me too.” you breathed. “It seems like it was a hundred lifetimes ago”

Silence again. You couldn’t help but wonder what it was like for him then, had he always been this dangerous? This cut throat and with a murderous edge?

“Were the two of you close?”, you broke the silence.

“We were. We became friends unconventionally but it was a good relationship to have.”, even through the distortion in his helmet making his voice change, you could hear how his tone softened from its usual rough and deep tone.

“That’s good. It’s hard to find people to have good relationships with”

“What about you?”, he asked, turning to you as you looked up at him from the ground, your eyes locked on each other and a moment passed in similarity.

“We had it good… but guess it wasn’t good enough”

Red looked at you, his body language open as he waited for you to continue.

“He disappeared. Just never came back. So..”

He didn’t say anything after that, just turned back to the water and soaking in the small bit of wind blowing your hair out of your face. You were not dressed for the weather but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He moved his hand towards you, passing you a small item. You raised an eyebrow at him, grabbing the item before you felt the warmth flood your hands.

It was a hand warmer.

You silently thanked him, allowing yourself to soak in the quiet. The silence stayed for a while longer, maybe 20 minutes give or take before he turned, leaving you as you watched him walk away from the ledge.

“Hey”, you called to him, making himself too in his tracks and he moved his head to the side, waiting for your response. “It’s after midnight. You have a free shot right now”

He turned his whole body, staring at you silently seeing his eyes narrow slightly. You couldn’t see his expression but you felt something different in the air. He stared at you almost in empathy.

“I’ll save it for next time”, he muttered, turning and taking off, leaving you alone on the roof as you watched after him.

There was no way you just… shared your past with him, right?

You didn’t think too much about it, letting yourself bask in the cold silence before finally heading home closer to 1am. Leaving behind another part of your past as you went home to rest for the coming days.

It was dark, the lights from the city in the distance seemed to be the only thing illuminating through the night. You moved silently through the field, your senses on high alert and responsive. Your goal was simple: get inside the building, download your information, and leave before you got caught. You needed this information, it was another piece to your puzzle in bringing down both Sionis and Red. It was foolish to try and dismantle both of them, but you needed an upper hand.

Your heart pounding in your chest as you moved in, everything seemingly too calm. Scanning the area, you took in every detail, trying to catch anything that could raise alarms. It was quiet. Too quiet.

You slipped in through a window, jumping from the top of the building and landing softly on the ground, your footsteps almost non-existent.

You couldn’t be too careful, taking in the palettes of wooden crates organized neatly throughout the room. Anyone of these could trigger an alarm, or worse, get you caught in the middle of the workers trying to kill you.

You needed to go up a few floors, the server room being on the upper levels of the building. Moving through the room, you found the staircase, carefully moving and ready to jump over the ledge if the moment called for it. You were not going to get caught up like last time.

You pulled open the door, peeking in to securely sneak in. It was empty. The late hour could be the reason but something tugged at your gut telling you it was something else.

“C’mon, this way.”, a voice rang out, forcing you to press your back against the wall, flush to minimize being seen. Three men, probably patrolling or fucking around. Regardless, you needed to get past them. You waited until they passed, moving carefully as they left. You watched after them, double checking the hall before moving to the other end of the floor, reaching the secured room as you connected your drive to the security panel to hack into it.

The universe must love putting you in shitty situations, not even five seconds later the room filled with a flashing red overlay, an alarm blaring throughout the building. You snapped your hands up, covering your ears as you turned around, trying to ensure you weren’t getting caught or tripped an alarm. Nothing. Panic surged through you trying to find a way to get out of this without getting caught.

You heard the click of the door, your eyes widening as you pushed through, shutting the door and walking over to the server. You connected the flash drive, hacking into the system and downloading the information you needed. You heard footsteps from the hall, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for the chip to turn green.

The handle rattled as the men barged into the room, your heart spiking as you swiped the flash before it could download everything you needed. Dammit!

The sound of gunshots erupting through the room sent you into overdrive, forcing you to face them head on and get out of the building. You moved quickly, the bullets missing you as you tipped over the desk and ducked behind it. Chips of broken wood flew all around you, the gunshots never ending as they moved closer towards you. You tried shooting back at them with your own fire, but it was four against one. You were going to get caught.

Fuck.

The gunshots stopped, your heart pounding as you tried to contemplate your options. A loud explosion threw you off, the guards cursing as gunfire started again. The shots getting louder before they stopped completely, then a lone shot echoed.

You stayed frozen, mentally preparing yourself for what you’d face if you stood. You turned, looking at the doorway, your heart dropped but flooded in relief. You pushed the thought away as the deep distorted words moved through the room.

“Move!”, he ordered you, the alarm getting louder as you pushed yourself to your feet, rushing to the door as meeting his eye line.

You hesitated, your pride eating at you before you clenched your jaw. You couldn’t be in debt to him. Before you could say anything, the sound of more men rang out. Red motioned for you to follow him and for some reason, you did just that. You ran behind him as you slipped through the hallways, his body ramming into a door, breaking it down as he kicked through the window, glass shattering everywhere.

Your adrenaline was pumping through you, your heart working overtime and your mind racing as you tried to keep up with everything happening around you.

“You coming or do you want to get shot?”, he taunted before he climbed out of the window, you following closely behind as you climbed the ladder to the roof. The outside of the building also had an alarm system, the blaring ringing in your ear as you tried to focus on getting out of the death trap filled with men ready to die for their cause.

You saw as Red’s body disappeared over the ledge, your lungs burning to reach the top and get a break from the chaos inside. A gloved hand extended itself, staring at it as you paused, taking it as Red hauled you over the top, your body crashing into his. He had a hand on your back, your hands on his forearm and chest, breathing in the air as you tried to catch your breath.

Why was it so hard to breathe right now?

You looked up at him, your hands still on his body as his gaze held yours. He didn’t narrow his eyes or seem annoyed, he just… watched you.

“I…” you sucked in a breath. “I had it under control”, you muttered.

“Sure you did, sweetheart”, sarcasm dripping from his tone. You rolled your eyes, your attitude less than it normally was.

He really did just come out of nowhere and help you, a tug in your gut making you question why when all he’d done the past month is try and kill you. Had he softened after the two of you saw each other on the roof? You doubted it. He always had ulterior motives and you needed to find what they were before it was too late.

In the midst of your trance, Red heard a snap behind him, his hands still on your body as he heard the cocking of a gun, the sound missing your ears entirely. He grabbed your body, shielding it as he jumped behind one of the metal containers on the roof as a rain of fire flooded the roof. They were shooting to kill, and he was not about to get killed by these brainless men.

You snapped out of your trance, the thud that you hit the ground with making you focus. Red’s body was over yours, his gun raised as he took shots at the men who came closer to the two of you.

These men were not easing up.

“A little help would be nice, sweetheart”, he grunted as he ducked, his back flush with the container.

“Right”, you muttered as you stood, taking out your pistol and reloading the mag and snapping it into place, taking aim as you shot at the men on the other side of the roof.

“What the fuck do they want”, you heard him curse next to you, taking another shot as one of the men fell to the ground. “We need to get out of here.”

“Oh really? I thought I’d set up a picnic”, you rolled your eyes.

His head snapped towards you, glaring and unamused before yanking you back behind the container. The bullet barely missed you.

“Stay focused”, he bit out.

“God you’re controlling” you made another shot, “Does it help inflate your massive ego knowing you’re calling the shots right now?”

“You’re annoying, you know that right?” the irritation evident in his tone and it made you smirk. You enjoyed getting under his skin.

“Never had anyone complain before, people love me”

“If you could stop talking and actually focus, we can get out of this shithole alive”, he forced.

“Thanks but I don’t need you to boss me around.”, you ducked before shooting back, dropping the mag and reloading.

“Clearly you do.”, he growled, aiming at the men, shooting one in the leg and another in the shoulder. “Watch for the guy with the patch.”

You narrowed in on the man Red described, the goon pulling out a grenade, about to throw it before you got a clear shot of his head, the bullet hitting its mark, his body thumping to the ground.

“Got him. Are you happy now?”, you straightened, seeing as all the bodies laid on the ground.

“Ecstatic”, he muttered, uncocking his gun and reloading the bullets. “We need to leave.”

“I think I can handle myself.”

“Oh my..”, he placed a hand on his helmet, almost like he was trying to calm down. “Can you not be difficult for once.”

“I was doing fine..”, you trailed off as he imposed on your space, taking up all the air in proximity and making you silent.

“You set off the security system when you broke into the server room.”, he loomed over you, his stance on guard and his muscles flexed.

“That wasn’t me.”, you bit out. “Someone else must’ve tipped the alarm, but I was careful.”

“You always have some excuse.”

“It wasn’t me”, your fists tightened. “I had it under control.”

“You were being cornered, outnumbered, and getting shot at, I wouldn’t call that under control”

“I didn’t ask for your help”, you glared at him.

The tension in his shoulders showed his irritation, “You never ask for help. That’s your problem.”

“And you’re always in the fucking way. That's yours.”, you bit back.

“God, we need to-”, he paused, “Fuck, here we go.”, he scoffed before grabbing your arm, pulling you behind him, his body shielding you as he unloaded his entire mag. More men came through the doors, rushing towards the both of you.

Red charged, throwing punches as you followed with the other goon behind him. Four of them focused on taking down you and Red. You jumped over one of them, and swung your leg around, kicking one of them in the jaw as they dropped to the ground. You ran towards the other goon, watching as he pulled out a knife and trying to strike you with it. You twisted your body around his attacks, dodging each one and hitting him in the gut.

The goon punched you, trying to dig the blade into your side as you threw yourself back, pushing yourself off the ground and disarming his weapon, throwing it to the ground. He grabbed your arm, flinging you over his head and slamming you down. You felt the ache in your back, but you couldn’t focus on the pain, you needed to get out.

You looked over at Red, watching as he fought off two men at the same time, both of them delivering and receiving hits from the hooded vigilante.

You focused, running towards the goon who was trying to kill you, punching directly under his jaw and his head snapping to the side with your second blow. His body dropped to the ground, turning as you ran over to help Red.

You jumped on the man’s shoulders, using your dagger and digging it into the side of his neck, his body toppling to the ground. Red quickly secured a hold on his goon, tightening his grip and cracking his neck sideways before throwing his body carelessly on the ground. You sucked in a breath as you took in the blood that splattered all over you. Your hands were covered, not that it was unusual, you were used to it.

“For someone so smart you get yourself in stupid fucking situations”, Red mocked.

“Yeah well, it comes with the job.”, you wiped the sweat off your forehead, looking up at him and sitting in silence.

Red did a quick overview, his senses kicking off as he watched you mess with something in your utility belt. The infrared in his helmet exposed the movement in the dim lit roof. His eyes narrowed, alarms going off. He noticed the staggered movements of a body, raising a gun and aiming for you. Without hesitating, he lunged, pulling you into him and pushing the both of you to the ground.

“What the hell?!”, you exclaimed, watching as he aimed his gun at the darkness, before heading a thud of a body. You watched as he narrowed his eyes, pulling you to your feet with him.

“Fucker was still alive.”, was all he said as he scanned through the roof again. “Almost put a bullet through your skull.”

God, how many times had he saved your ass tonight?

“It's clear.”, he motioned, you following behind him as he reached the ledge of the building. You stayed silent, shifting from one foot to the other before you swallowed your pride and broke the elongated silence.

“Thanks, for everything. For tonight.”, you forced out, hating that you had to thank him for saving you. You were always careful, tonight was just…. Bad luck.

“Yeah. Whatever.” Red’s voice was firm, but you didn’t fail to notice how it had a miniscule softness to it. It was less harsh than normal and it threw you off. You rubbed the back of your arm, feeling a vibration in your pocket as you took out your transmitter.

The message sprawled simply, but made your gut drop.

Sionis Industries, 2200 hours, Tomorrow. BM

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion and annoyance, turning as Red stayed focused on you. What did Sionis want now? To torture you some more with his ridiculous tasks? Come onto you a little stronger? God, could he just leave you alone for once.

“Duty calls.”, you waved the device before shoving it back in its holder, turning away and jumping to the other building and disappearing.

Red watched after you, a tugging in his gut before brushing off the feeling. He couldn’t deny you were stubborn, hot-headed, smart… charming. Different than before. It made his irritation towards you lessened a sliver. He ignored the thought, leaving in silence as he stepped over the bodies of the men and disappeared into the night.

The room was empty, as you pushed the door open, three guards lingering at the entrance as you moved deeper into the room. Your eyes fell on Sionis leaning back in his leather chair, his gaze fixated outside and seeing you in the reflection. His gaze darkened as he turned, fixated on you like a predator. You hadn’t told Penguin about the meeting tonight, wanting to ensure Sionis’ reason behind meeting with you wasn’t for something completely unrelated to Red.

“Y/n, glad you could make it.”, his voice rang through the empty room, the windows surrounding every side of the room making you feel exposed. His corporate building was smack in the middle of Gotham, it was both strategic and dangerous. “Sit. We have business to discuss.”

“I’d prefer to stand”, you said confidently, not letting your nerves get to you. Sionis stared at you with serious eyes.

“I said. Sit.”, his voice was sharp, a vein popping on his forehead. When you refused to sit, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the desk and smashed it to the ground. Your body stayed still and held his eyes but a small fraction of you wanted to flinch. “I don’t have time for you to play these games, Y/n.”

“Then get to the point, Sionis.”, you spit out.

His maniacal laugh echoed as he moved towards you, his body towering over you in pure greed, anger, hatred. You could sense his itch to hurt someone, to punch them or even kill them. He wouldn’t touch you. You knew that much. He couldn’t risk losing his deal with Penguin, it would ruin his entire process to getting Red out of the picture.

“I just don’t understand, sweetheart.”, he spoke loudly as he picked up the glass filled with his whiskey, the bottle shattered at his feet. “It’s been almost two months. Why haven’t you caught the son of a bitch yet?”

Your jaw tightened, the reminder burning through you as you watched his calculative and taking note of your every word. “I’m doing everything I can. He has an upper hand, Sionis. He’s calculative, quick, and has eyes and ears all over the city. He’s always two steps ahead.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing everything you can. This dirty piece of shit has been destroying my jobs! I’ve lost millions! Maybe my last request was too mired in subtlety. I want this man dead. Now, when I say dead, I mean seriously dead! Beaten, broken, his head mounted on my wall kind of dead! Either do it or I’ll convince Penguin for you to take his place instead.”

God, you never hated anyone more than Sionis. Red even didn’t make her as angry as Sionis did. He was ruthless, power-hungry, unhinged, and just purely psychotic. You were surprised at how tame he had been the past month, Roman Sionis did not have a reputation for being calm and composed. He was open and aggressive and that made him the top of the Criminal food chain. He was the one person you did not fuck with or betray. It always ended with someone getting tortured, beaten half to death, or straight up killed.

“Don’t forget I work for Penguin, not you.”, your eyes narrowed as you shoved your face in his a little more. “I’ll take care of Red Hood on my own time. I still have other jobs the Boss asks of me.”

Sionis fists clenched at his sides, his foot tapping on the floor as he analyzed your glare, looking for just the tiniest, miniscule chip in your facade. You were good at keeping things hidden, you never let anyone break through your walls. That was the only way to survive. Your stance solidified and your gaze hardened.

“I already cost him hundreds of thousands, he won’t let me take another hit at him so easily after busting two of his operations.”

Sionis’ smirk widened into a sinister, full smile, “You think a couple hundred thousand is anything? I lost millions! Get this fucker’s body on my desk soon or I will start shooting bullets down someone’s fucking throat.”

“Trust me, there’s nothing I want more than that bond you have on his head.”, you took a step back, his hand grabbing you.

“If you get his body on my desk by the end of the month I’ll double the bond.”

A million dollars.

You could be free. It was all you needed to finally get away. The last of your savings to put you in a secure spot. You already wanted to get rid of Red, the past few days meaning nothing to you in how he treated you. You knew it was all for his own selfish motives and this would be your selfish motive. A million dollars. That would make anyone go crazy.

“Consider it done.”

Sionis smirked, his dark face gaining more of an ugly maniacal appearance to it as he loosened his grip on your arm. “Good”, he hummed, returning to his desk. “If you fail, I’ll make sure to do my own look as to why.”

“Don’t waste your time. It’ll be done.”, you said finally, seeing his eyes follow you as you turned and left through the door, the guards letting you out before you reached the elevator. You clicked the lobby button and sat in your thoughts as you contemplate your next move. A million. It wasn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things. Relocating, moving, starting somewhere new, that would take the majority of the money, but it was enough to get you started.

The ring of the elevator brought your attention back to reality, stepping out into the lobby and heading out the door. You didn’t have a choice. You needed the money, you needed this assignment, you needed to get rid of Red. Your life quite literally depends on it.

The air outside was fresh, a stark contrast to the suffocating feeling inside of Sionis’ office. You took a deep breath, calming yourself before walking back home. You couldn’t let Sionis win, but right now, you were at his mercy.

Red needed to be taken care of.

Even though a part of you felt cold at the thought, it was the only way.

A/N

Hello everyone!

So so many of you have been sending me messages on here saying how much you love this story so far and it makes me so happy that you’re enjoying it! We finally get to see more of Red and Reader slowly get to know each other outside of the masks. I know it’s still picking up but the upcoming chapters will be full of more progression!

Again I cannot thank you enough and please leave comments, messages, or any questions!

See you next week xx.

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methoughtsphantom · 10 months ago

Text

DP x DC

not me thinking about imaginary scenarios of ten year old Tim Drake in the ghost zone (pariah’s castle)

where Tim thinks it’s strangely soothing that despite being the only one whose steps connect to the ground, there’s not that eerie silence that befell drake manor

strange blob creatures chitter softly and nip at his hair and swooshes and wisps of wind betray the presence of an invisible ghost

which after following he realizes it’s almost like he’s trailing after the black dark shadow that is batman again

which gives him the idea that, maybe, just this one time, he can play the part of robin

that in mind Tim makes out a game of sneaking to the side of ghosts that look like they’re brooding and if they can spot him he loses

most just grunt in response (very in character) while others fuss over him and ask questions which Tim uses to infodump

he also politely asks the ghost that always asks him how he’s doing to instead say the word “report”

(the ghost looks at him weirdly but humors him and besides the answer would be the same anyways)

Tim also(!!)

gets on the case of why the walls lack tangibility when he is the one leaning on them (he doesn’t live down the time he wanted to look cool only to fall through the wall)

hyperfixates on how gravity works in the ghost zone because he couldn’t do a skateboard trick he has pulled off many many times and he’s salty about it

tries to figure out where they are getting human food from (cause it’s hot enough to be homemade but also there’s no kitchen —so how could it be) (also he wants coffee)

finds out the dude that often gives him a side eye when he finds that Tim knows how to do something (math homework), is next in line for the throne and yet doesn’t have a single “mingle and talk people up” bone in his body. (despite it his networking is a solid 7/10)

gets a ghost horse to adopt him what

discovers pretty quickly that there are rooms to which he can’t phase through (a.k.a. he’s not allowed entry) to which he begrudgingly backs off even though that stands in his way of doing a very thorough layout™ of the place (robin would)

sulks over the lack of extreme sports in the place

(Danny takes him to the Far Frozen where they go tire sliding in the snow and where tim learns how to use a skateboard skate and also that ghost ice cream is just as good as normal ice cream)

sulks again cuz he caught a common cold

also because there’s no sun or moon poor Timmy’s already screwed sleep schedule gets more messed up to the point no one knows when or where he will fall asleep

(ghosts find him in the most unhinged of places with a signature purple cloak draped over him every. single. time.)

overall, be a menace

see-> the time he threatened to build ghost weapons he’d somehow memorized the blueprints of cause Danny wouldn’t let him visit the radium girls factory but yes the renaissance period

see-> that time he went through the whole ghost energy and how to work with it book section in the library and half an hour later had a prototype of a star wars laser beam made

(note: bribing only works for hot chocolate, not for letting him keep cool-looking guns)

just tim having the time of his life

clockwork being no help at all (the ghost loves being a cryptid)

and danny trying not to get attached while he progressively gets more concerned over this chaos child he emotionally adopted as his little brother

(to fit canon cause i want it to this would just be until Danny finds the dimension little Timmy is from, then they can safely yeet the child back to the moment he first went missing)

anyways before anyone knows it’s been three months

#tim drake #danny phantom #dp x dc au #batman #dc #dp x dc #danny fenton #like this little guy practiced with ghosts #which don’t breathe #tim comes back to gotham and can sneak up to batman better than an assassin #don’t make sound on the floor if they don’t want #and have heightened senses #you are gonna tell me that in all the bats career they never saw the little tiny child that followed them around with a camara??#whelp now you got an explanation as to why #also upon realizing Danny didn’t know anything about how to mingle Tim who has been going to galas for years self appoints himself #to teach him don’t frett #little headcannons in my own au #this in my head is fic #it’s more extensive but it was getting long #i was going through some mental hoops to find the correlation between his hobby and tim this time deciding to be robin #instead of the shadow chasing AFTER Batman #but basically it’s because this time tim had someone to make of Batman #he’s not alone #and he’s a kid #he wants to play #and now that he can play With someone of course Timmy is gonna chose his hero

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dullgecko · 3 months ago

Note

goblin's main sense is actually their sense of smell, even with their big ears and eyes (which dont get me wrong, are great at what they are meant to do). Things in this world can go invisible, teleport around, and silence everything around them, its incredibly useful to be able to smell where they are no matter what.

that being said: You cannot hide anything from Riz. you can't even hide yourself from Riz. He will smell you out and find you and he does not care if your 'busy', Kristen, you have Student Body President stuff to do.

luckily, Fabian doesn't have to worry about this, if he doesn't want Riz to bother him he will simply put on an expensive perfume that he knows Riz wont go near because the smell overstimulates him.

The first time Fabian used it was after bloodrush practice, the team having showered and gotten changed to head home for the day. He'd only sprayed a very small amount but Riz had /gagged/ halfway across the room and immediatly left to go outside while covering his nose.

As teenage boys tend to do, the knowledge that his friend couldnt stand the smell of something /obviously/ had to be exploited. Fabian didnt use it all the time, just at oportune moments when it would be the funniest because it would inevitbly make the goblin fumble whatever he was doing with a disgusted look. It was especially funny to use during games where the rogue had advantage on shooting or throwing, because he would critically fail /every time/ he caught wind of the fancy perfume.

It took Fabian a while to notice that Riz would start leaving the room and not coming back for hours afterward, obviously waiting for the smell to clear out before returning. He ended up throwing the half-full bottle away when he realised the reason why though. Riz didn't just find the smell unpleasent it was downright /torture/ on his sense of smell. Bad enough to trigger migraines if he was around it long enough which only ramped up in intensity the more Fabian pranked him with it. He hadnt said anything because he figured the fighter just liked the smell, and the bottle had been /expensive/, so he didnt want to make a fuss over nothing.

Fig had been the one to chew Fabian out about it when she followed Riz out of the room once and caught him trying very hard not to be sick in a completely dark bathroom while he waited for the sudden migraine to go away.

(They later found out that the main ingrediant used to be used as a goblin repellant, and Fabian used his contacts to get the whole factory shut down.)

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #d20 #riz gukgak #bad kids #fabian seacaster #fig faeth

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puppetkisser · 1 year ago

Text

Found family

Desc: Reader comes across a puppy on a mission, and they can’t bare to leave it there

Fluff, no smut

Simon Riley x reader if you squint really hard, shut your eyes and pretend. The vision was there I promise.

Warnings: animal cruelty (not by the readers or 141s hands, just the puppy’s backstory)

Enjoy.

It was meant to be a straightforward mission — a task of infiltrating an enemy facility to gather critical intelligence on their current leadership. Our objective was clear: get in, retrieve the information, and make a swift exit without leaving a trace. The enemy's base of operations lay hidden amidst the unforgiving snowy peaks of Russia, creating an intimidating barrier around the city.

Our team touched down in an abandoned factory located on the western outskirts of the city, a safe starting point for our covert operation. From there, we needed to reach our secondary destination, where we'd secure a crucial vehicle for our infiltration. Time was of the essence; every second counted, and we had to avoid detection at all costs.

As we trekked through the biting cold, the desolate landscape seemed to echo with the harsh rumbling of the wind, and the crunching sounds of our boots against the snow. The icy air cut through our clothing, making it feel like there was no room in our lungs for air. Despite the freezing temperatures, we found some relief with the hot packs we were provided, clutching them tightly in our pockets, desperately trying to preserve warmth.

The surroundings seemed lifeless, except for the occasional snowflake that danced in the wind. The vastness of the snowy expanse felt both awe-inspiring and perilous. The mission had us on edge, our senses heightened, and our nerves taut like strings of a finely tuned instrument. We kept glancing over our shoulders to look for any movement or sound, but the area appeared devoid of life, which seemed even more eerie than before. A lone bird flew overhead, its long, slender feathers trailing in the wind, as if it knew what we were here for.

"I've had my share of cold missions, but Russia always manages to freeze my britches just a tad more," Price grumbled, rubbing his gloved hands together.

Gaz, ever the wit, chimed in with a smirk, "That's why they call it Mother Russia, sir. She embraces you with a chilly hug and never lets go."

trying to keep up the team's spirit, Soap added, "Well, as long as she doesn't squeeze too tight, I think we'll manage just fine."

I managed to sneak in a snicker from under my scarf despite the circumstances. "I'll be sure to remind Mother Russia of that when we're out of here in one piece," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

Price cracked a half-smile, ''Keep your wit sharp. It might just save your hide out here."

Ghost, who had been unusually quiet, spoke up in his low, gravelly voice, "I'd say keeping our eyes sharp is more critical right now. Let's stay focused you boys. We have a mission to complete."As we stealthily entered the warehouse, an eerie chill ran down my spine. The vast space looked empty, but an inexplicable sense of unease lingered, as if we were being watched from the shadows. Glancing at my teammates, their expressions mirrored my own uncertainty.

Summoning my training, I retrieved my scanner equipment, the faint glow of the display illuminating the darkness. With cautious steps, I scanned the floor for any hidden threats, every nerve on high alert. The silence weighed heavily, broken only by the faint hum of the equipment.

As the scanner swept across the floor, my heart raced, half-expecting to detect signs of recent activity. But to my relief, the results came back negative. It seemed we were alone, but the unsettling feeling persisted, like an invisible presence lurking just out of sight.

Captain Price's low voice cut through the silence, "Stay sharp, Something doesn't feel right."

Gaz nodded, his eyes darting around, "Agreed. Keep your guard up."

We continued scanning the floor for further clues. As expected, the room was empty, although it did give off a slight metallic scent, almost reminiscent of old blood. My stomach churned nervously, my pulse speeding. As much as we wanted to take this easy, we had to be thorough, otherwise the intel would prove worthless, allowing the enemies to slip away. We could risk everything on success; otherwise, failure loomed large, the consequence of failure being death and destruction at the hands of the Russian government.

"This place is huge." Soap muttered, taking in the size of the warehouse.

"Yes. But it isn't empty," I replied, scanning the area.

My scanner gave another ping, indicating something in particular had caught my attention. A single small door had been left slightly ajar, and beyond that was the unknown.

"I'm gonna go check it out.." I prepared a flashbang grenade to use as cover should the need arise, in case we stumbled upon hostile personnel. I moved towards the door as the others followed behind me, weapons drawn. Once we reached the door, I carefully opened it wider, just enough for him to peek inside.. hundreds of dog kennels lined the walls of the warehouse, with several pairs of cages lining the walls opposite, each filled with different varieties of huskies. Some dogs looked relatively well trained, while others were barely recognizable as such.

"Fuckin 'ell..." Ghost breathed, looking horrified at the sheer numbers of dogs in these cages.

Gaz nodded grimly, "It's gotta be some sort of a cruel dog training compound.."

"No shit." Price nodded, frowning deeply.

As far as I could tell, there weren't any signs that someone had gone into the warehouse recently, not even footprints.

We shuffled inside, slowly entering the building, careful to remain as silent as possible. The dogs continued to watch us suspiciously, occasionally wagging their tails or barking viciously in greeting. My eyes darted quickly from side to side, ready for anything, but none appeared to pose any threat. We approached the first cage to investigate further, and froze in place as soon as we spotted the occupant.

He sat in the corner, an empty food bowl sat at the opposite end of the cage, a small bowl of water next to it.. he looked to be only 5 or 6 weeks old, a small husky. Possibly the runt of the litter judging by the scrawny physique. The poor thing didn't appear to have the energy to bark.

"They're training them from pups.." Ghost pointed out

"This 's fuckin sick.." Soap whispered, looking down at the small, helpless creature with compassion and revulsion.

There wasn't any question about it; I was leaving with this puppy. This was my own side mission..

"Keep going, I'm gonna stay back here and try to get more information on this compound" I ordered, my voice calm, although deep inside, I felt sick at my guts. "I'll catch up"

The others agreed with varying degrees of reluctance, but I waved them off with a quick "Go". It wouldn't do good to let the others see my anxiety, so I tried to push the emotions aside.

As everyone took off into the next building, I approached the puppy in the cage, crouching down as I extended my hand toward him. He whimpered, turning his head away as if he were afraid to approach me, which I couldn't blame him for.

With a soft grunt of effort, I lifted the cage open and scooped the little dog into my arms. His fur was damp with perspiration, his breathing labored as he struggled to regain his strength.

"Shhh, it's okay... I gotcha" I whispered soothingly, petting his head with my hand. "Just relax for now. You're alright."

After some time, he finally seemed to gain the ability to breathe properly again. He sniffed my jacket curiously, then looked into my eyes, clearly still distrustful of me after the things he must've endured. A yawn escape his lips as fatigue overwhelmed his body. With infinite care, I gently placed wrapped him in a spare piece of clothing, hoping to prevent the poor thing from catching a cold. I wrapped another cloth around him, nestling a heat pack in the cloth.

"You'll warm up quickly. You'll be just fine" I murmured, smiling at him.

As I stroked his fur lovingly before tucking him in my vest and securing him, making sure he could breath, but he wouldn't be seen, the puppy nuzzled against my collar bone sleepily, obviously exhausted. I stood up and began walking out, my heart heavy, thinking about how I had failed to rescue all these dogs. But hopefully when we got back someone would care enough to help.

Back outside, I caught up to the team, having lost track of them in the maze of concrete buildings for a bit, but fortunately spotted them standing by the entrance of yet another warehouse. I motioned them over as I headed towards them.

"Anything?" Price asked as I approached.

"Nothing.."

After regrouping we got on with the rest of the mission, gathering the necessary intel and moving into action to get the fuck out. I could feel the puppy breathing against me, and I held my breath with anticipation. As the team prepared to make an exit, I glanced down and spotted the tiny animal sleeping against me..

We hopped into the getaway car, heading back toward the base. I turned on the radio, hoping to hear news regarding the mission and whether or not we had found anything useful to report..

The ride home was long but uneventful. The sky gradually darkened, and with it, the city lights lit up as the moon rose high in the sky. I was seated between Ghost and soap, and I couldn't stop myself from stealing glances at my new friend who lay peacefully asleep..

"You're kiddin me lass.. You're really taking him home?" Soap asked

"please don't tell anyone.." I said softly, "I don't think he'd survive if i let him.."

Ghost gave me a sympathetic look, but thankfully didn't press the issue further.

Once we reached the base, the rest of the team dispersed. As usual, I stayed behind to collect my supplies, and once I arrived at my quarters, I removed the dog from my vest, placing him gently onto my bed. I brushed the strands of fur back, letting out a sigh of contentment.

This went on for a few days, I had kept the puppy hidden, he still lacked a name however..

In my quarters I tossed a tennis ball at the wall, the puppy darted after it instantly, he carried it in his mouth proudly and trotted back to me so i could throw it again. He dropped the ball and barked pretty loudly, causing a few heads to turn in the hall..

Ghost knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Is' Ghost"

"Yeah, come in." I hummed, he opened the door and stepped inside, Soap following behind.

Ghost glanced around the room, his eyes finally landing on the playful scene between me and the puppy. The little husky was now bouncing around, excitedly wagging his tail, clearly enjoying the game of fetch. Ghost's stern expression softened slightly as he observed the heartwarming sight.

"Seems like you've made a new friend," he remarked, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

I looked at Ghost, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. "Yeah, he sort of found me," I replied, trying to downplay the significance of the encounter.

"He's adorable," Soap chimed in, entering the room fully and kneeling down to pet the puppy. The little husky nuzzled against Soap's hand, his tail wagging even faster.

"He sure is," I agreed, unable to hide the affection in my voice.

Ghost glanced at me with a knowing look. "You've been keeping him hidden, haven't you?" he asked, his voice gentle.

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I didn't want to cause any distractions during the mission. But... I couldn't leave him there, you know?"

Ghost nodded understandingly. "I get it."

Soap looked between Ghost and me, realizing the significance of the situation. "So, what's the plan now? You can't keep him hidden forever," he said.

"I know," I replied, my heart heavy with the realization. "I've been thinking about that. Maybe I can find a way to take him home with me once the mission is over."

Ghost sat next to me, the tall man towering over me, His hand snaked over my shoulder, keeping me close.

"Whats is' name?"

"Doesn't have one.."

Ghost's stoic expression softened as he gazed down at the puppy nestled in my arms. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, held a glimmer of warmth as he observed the tiny creature.

"Doesn't have one, huh?" Ghost repeated, his gravelly voice tinged with curiosity.

I nodded, a touch of sadness in my eyes. "Yeah, I found him in that warehouse, and he was all alone. I don't think anyone bothered to give him a name," I explained.

Ghost leaned in slightly, reaching out to gently stroke the puppy's soft fur. The little husky looked up at him, his eyes full of trust, despite everything he had been through.

"Well, he's not alone anymore," Ghost remarked, a faint hint of a smile forming on his lips.

I couldn't help but smile at Ghost's words. It was true; the puppy and I had formed an unexpected bond amidst the chaos of the mission. He had become my loyal companion, and I had become his protector.

Ghost's eyes met mine, and for a moment, there was unspoken understanding between us. He knew the significance of this little life, and he knew that I would do everything in my power to ensure his safety.

"I guess it's time we change that," Ghost said, breaking the silence. "How about 'Scout'? Seems fitting for a little traveler like him."

"Scout," I repeated, the name rolling off my tongue. It felt right, a perfect representation of the puppy's adventurous spirit and his role in our story. "I like it. Scout it is."

As the days passed, Scout's presence within Team 141 became more apparent. His playful antics and affectionate nature had a way of melting the ice around even the most hardened soldiers. Everyone but Price knew about him..

One afternoon, as we returned from a particularly intense mission, Scout excitedly bounded toward us having escaped my quarters, his tail wagging furiously. He had a keen sense of recognizing the sound of our approach, and he always greeted us with enthusiasm, as if celebrating our safe return. It was as though he understood the significance of every mission and appreciated our commitment to each other's safety.

As we entered the base, Scout followed closely, as he always did, earning smiles and affectionate pats from the team members. I couldn't help but worry about what Captain Price might say when he discovered our little secret.

However, my concerns weren't soon put to rest. As we reached the common area, Captain Price was there, deep in conversation with Ghost. Scout, seemingly unaware of the captain's authority, stopped at his feet. his tail still wagging but his demeanor more cautious.

Captain Price looked down, his eyes falling on Scout, who stood there with a mix of curiosity and wariness. Price's brow furrowed for a moment, but to my surprise, his expression softened as he observed the little husky.

"What's this, then?" Price inquired, his tone not quite as stern as I had anticipated.

I stepped forward, bracing myself to explain. "Uh, sir, this is Scout," I said, gesturing to the puppy. "I found him during our last mission. He was alone in an abandoned facility, and... well, I couldn't leave him there."

Price nodded, his gaze still fixed on Scout. "I see," he said, and to my surprise, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "He's a tough little thing, isn't he?"

"Yes, sir," I replied, relieved that Price didn't seem overly upset. "He's proven to be quite resourceful and loyal."

Price glanced at Ghost and then back at Scout. "Well, we could all use a little lift now and then," he admitted, surprising us all with his acceptance of our furry friend.

Scout, sensing the change in atmosphere, seemed to be excited, pawing at prices legs as he scratched behind his ear

" I suppose we could use a morale booster," Price said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Just make sure he doesn't get in the way during missions."

I couldn't believe my ears. Captain Price, was surprisingly okay with having a puppy on the team.

"Don't worry, sir. He won't be a burden," I assured him gratefully. "He's smart and well-trained."

Price nodded, then turned back to Ghost. "Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't chew on anything he shouldn't," he said, only half-joking

That was it then.. Scout was part of 141... I smiled, relieved that things were going smoothly...

#call of duty #cod mw2 #mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #drabble #cod drabble #ima be honest #I have no faith in this getting any attention

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maximura · 2 months ago

Text

Maybe Monster, Part 02

So this is the next chapter of that Gang AU I wrote in 2019 and thought was lost. I haven't made a nice post for it yet and it doesn't have a proper title because it's all still just drafts I'm trying to piece together. I kept calling it my "Maybe" story so now it'll just go by Maybe Monster. It will not make any sense unless you read Part 01.

Warnings: violence, mild swearing and typos. Words: About 7500k. Characters: Ateez and Seventeen.

****

Maybe Monster Part 02

6 months earlier.

There was a 7-Eleven that once let San sleep out back without calling the cops. He had chased away a group of obnoxious teenagers trying to rob the place and the owner took enough pity on him to let him sleep in the small space where they usually unload all the deliveries. He got fed a few times a week, things that were perfectly fine but dented or unsold by the end of the day and would’ve ended up in the trash anyway. Not that it’s above him to dig through trash. As long as it’s still wrapped, it’s still good.

It was going fine until the owner’s wife got wind of the whole situation and San had to move on from one 7-Eleven to another. The next one wasn’t so accommodating but at least he knew their routine and when all the food would be thrown out. If the cameras catch him digging through the trash like an overgrown raccoon, nobody calls him up on it.

The men’s shelter was a few blocks away, it was always busy, always overrun and always so chaotic. But he hadn’t belonged there. He wasn’t a man who had fallen on hard times. He wasn’t a man who fell in with the wrong crowd. He was hardly a man at all.

He had just turned eighteen, no longer a child of the state and therefore, completely invisible. The church refuge has been kind for awhile, until he was caught stealing food. It had only been a piece of bread but apparently you can only have it during business hours. He had aged out of their care by then anyhow, suddenly a threat to all the other children there by virtue of age.

There was nowhere to go. Sometimes he lines up at the shelter and gets a hot meal and shower. Sometimes he shows up too late and they send him away with a sandwich if he’s lucky. Sometimes he sees the fights breaking out and just keeps walking.

The best days are when it’s slow and there’s hot water left or the communal washing machines aren’t busy. Those days are rare.

The worst days are always when it rains because there’s no way to escape the damp cold.

The weather gets warmer now though and it’s easier to live and sleep under the stars without fear of double pneumonia.

San considered himself lucky to find a low rooftop that hasn’t been occupied yet, there was a paint factory across the road and even though it had been shut down for months, there was always a faint smell of chemical lingering in the air. But now, as San lays there staring up at the dark skies, he doesn’t think about that. Instead he thinks about the mother who loved him before she died and the father who didn’t.

They are both long gone now and he was left with nothing but scattered memories and his father’s debts. He was only sixteen then, with no real means to pay them off.

So bank took the family home.

After that, he really had nothing at all.

San sighs at the memory, it seems forever ago, but in reality, it’s been barely two years. Adjusting the balled up jacket under his neck he closes his eyes and tries to get some sleep.

He’s just about to drift off when there’s a quiet scuff of boots on pavement, the sound coming from somewhere below him.

It’s followed by the rattle of a chain fence and then a tired ‘fuck!’.

There shouldn’t be anyone around here. San staked the area out for weeks on end to make sure. The 7-Eleven nearby, with its persistent security cameras, deters most street sleepers and the dangerously lawless Docklands a few blocks away was always the more attractive option.

San crawls towards the edge of the rooftop, slowly peering down into the alleyway below, careful to stay hidden in the shadows.

There’s a figure clad in a dark green jacket and hat, standing in front of the fence that usually leads to the old paint factory. The whole time San has been sleeping across the street, he’s never seen anybody try to break in. The property hasn’t been opened in months so San has no idea why this stranger would want to get inside there now. Anything of value would’ve been taken long ago.

The Stranger turns around a few time, surveying his surroundings, before disappearing into a patch of shadow.

San almost loses sight of him but suddenly there’s a flash of blue flame and he watches with fascination as it cuts through the chained fence like a hot knife through butter.

The Stranger slips through the newly form hole and gets about five steps before the alarms are tripped. It’s loud and pervasive and invasive, causing San’s hands to fly to his ears in protest.

The Stranger runs back out through the hole in the fence as police sirens wailed in the distance. The 7-Eleven worker must have called.

San groans.

Cops.

Great.

He rushes back to collect the few belongings he has, throwing them hurriedly into his blue backpack before climbing down the hidden back ladder. He’s half way down when he comes unexpectedly face to face with the Stranger trying to climb up.

“Out of the way kid!”

“Don’t call me that!” San bristles in annoyance.

“I’m kind of in a hurry here.”

“To the roof?” San snorts in disbelief. “Stupid way to get caught but whatever.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, just nudges past the stranger and slides the rest of the way down. Under the cover of darkness, he runs towards his other hiding spot; a literal hole in the wall on the side of another abandoned building. It used to be an old bakery with a small front room where they used to sell bread to the public. It’s dangerously run down, unsafe and always on the verge of collapse, that’s why nobody else hides there, not even the most desperate of street kids.

Within two minutes of pushing into the old building, San hears footsteps approaching.

It’s the Stranger, who flashes an unexpectedly bright smile at him as he shoves into the tiny space next to San.

“Kinda small in here.”

San just stares at him.

“I’m assuming the cops don’t check this place?”

San shakes his head.

“Okay, good.” The Stranger says, weirdly conversational. “You’re gonna be real quite right?”

San nods swiftly.

“Great.” Another wide grin is flashed at him and San can’t remember a time when anyone smiled at him this much for no particular reason.

So they both sit in the darkness, cramped and uncomfortably close. San doesn’t talk and thankfully the Stranger doesn’t either but San sees the way there’s a hand resting inside that green jacket. He sees the black outline of the gun.

In the distance, police sirens come, bringing with them a swarm of crunchy footsteps and typical voices muttering too much of absolutely nothing. Cops all talk the same. They never know anything.

It’s the criminal detectives and forensics team that everyone should worry about.

After half an hour of intense noises, everything fades to quiet.

There’s nothing but dark stillness when they finally climb out into the alley way.

The Stranger hums, surprised and pleased.

“Huh, interesting. Well, thanks kid, seeya round.”

And then he’s gone.

San’s had plenty of weird encounters in the wild but this must be in the top three for sure.

He adjusts the straps of his backpack and treks to another hiding place in the city.

****

“Well?” Seonghwa asks when Hongjoong climbs back into the Honda Civic. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Drive. Slowly.” Hongjoong says, stuffing his jacket and hat into a bag under his feet. “There might still be cops around.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “Yeah no shit, I heard them. You tripped the security?”

“Yeah. Ground sensors.”

Seonghwa cruises the Honda calmly onto the main roads, resisting the temptation to speed away from the few stray cop cars still loitering around, especially the one that stops next to them at the red lights.

“That’s interesting.”

“Definitely interesting.” Hongjoong agrees as he flips the old CD player on. It plays The Carpenters and Seonghwa grimaces at the way Hongjoong starts singing along to the strains of Superstar.

The cop next to them rolls up his window with a disgusted groan and Seonghwa smiles inwardly when they turn off the main road to drive home.

“That paint factory hasn’t done business for eight months. Big Red bought the company then deliberately ran it dead. Ground sensors are an expensive investment to protect a few ancient machines. Which means-“

“There’s something of worth there.” Hongjoong finishes.

“Exactly.”

“We need another way in.”

“Obviously,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “Did you seriously think you could just cut a hole in the fence and walk right in?”

Hongjoong laughs and turns to his work partner with a lopsided grin. “You know what? For like five seconds, yeah I did.”

“We can’t trip the ground sensors again. We’ll have to go really high-“

“-or really low.”

Seonghwa hums in agreement. “I’ll talk to Wonwoo about getting the underground plans.”

“Yunho can get them.”

“But then we’d have to tell him why we want them.” Seonghwa groans. “He’ll talk my ear off.”

“I’ll ask him. Don’t worry.”

“Hongjoong, I really think we need to keep this one between us.”

“You still sore after that fight you two had?” Hongjoong asks. “He doesn’t hate you. I think he likes you more than he likes me!”

Seonghwa scoffs. “You must be joking right? He’s always questioning everything I say. He only respects me because you and Seungcheol tell him to.”

Hongjoong just looks at Seonghwa like he’s grown antlers.

“He questions all of us. It’s just what he does. We just don’t take it personally like you do. His eye for detail is why he’s a good point man and you know it.”

Seonghwa sighs now. “He wasn’t like this when we first found him.”

“Well he’s not sixteen anymore.”

“He was easier as a sixteen year old.”

Hongjoong cackles loudly. “Are you serious? You were complaining about how clingy he was back then and now you’re complaining about how bitchy he is at twenty three. Just face it: our kid just grew up.”

“Our kid?” Seonghwa muses, “I think he’s your kid.”

“Only when he’s being a bitch to you.”

“Which is all the time.”

“Whatever. Leave it to me, I’ll get the plans. But first, can you detour around that corner?”

“To the spicy chicken place again? Thought you were carb cutting.”

“I’ve had an unsuccessful night, I think I deserve spicy chicken. My mental health needs it.”

“Okay enjoy your early cardiac disease.” Seonghwa teases but takes the detour as requested and then reminds Hongjoong not to forget his side order of Pad Thai.

Back at Headquarters later, now fed and warm, Seungcheol grills them about the failed reconnaissance venture.

“There's no visible security personnel front or back but a huge amount of ground sensors as soon as you step on the property.”

Seungcheol raises as eyebrow at that. “That’s interesting.”

Hongjoong nods. “There’s cameras around the entire perimeter and also almost 180 degrees of security camera coverage from the 7-Eleven across the street. It’s not even deserted. There’s a few street sleepers nearby. It‘ll be difficult to get in and out of without someone noticing.”

“Drop in from the air?”

Hongjoong shakes his head. “Distance between the rooftops is too far. Even for zip lines.”

“Underground?”

“Yeah, looks like that’s the only way in.”

Seungcheol nods slowly, chewing through the information.

“Get the underground plans from Wonwoo. I want a team meeting and plan about this by the end of the week. Red can’t just take my shit without consequence. I want what’s in that building.”

Hongjoong nods, ignoring Seonghwa’s ‘I told you so’ smirk.

“Which team? Soonyoung is in Japan with Jihoon. Jeonghan and Mingyu are still in China helping out Jun. Hansol is stuck in New York. Unless you want to call in Heeseung?"

Seungcheol shakes his head, “No, I want to keep this between the four of us. It’ll be too dangerous to manage if more people know.”

They’re dismissed with the wave of a whisky glass.

“I’ll go talk to Wonwoo now.” Hongjoong says, as they exit the business floor of their Headquarters and head towards the living wing.

“He hates you. I’ll go talk to him.”

“He hates everyone. It won’t matter who asks.”

“Fine.” Seonghwa relents.

They find Wonwoo in the kitchen, heating a glass of warm milk in the microwave. He nods a greeting before going back to peering at his rotating glass of milk.

“Hey, you got a minute? We need-“

There’s a hand held out in their direction. It doesn’t lower until the microwave finishes and starts beeping its countdown.

“Okay, so-“

The hand is held back up, silencing them again.

They wait until the other man takes a sip of milk and sits down at the big wooden table like he runs this whole place. Which he kind of does.

“Can we talk now?” Hongjoong asks.

Wonwoo eyes the doorway.

“I checked already.” Seonghwa says by way of answer. “Yunho is still out on mission. Jongho is asleep. Mingi is in the gym. And Mufasa is pacing around his office in his Armani suit.”

Wonwoo cracks a smile at that, finally nodding for them to talk. “Go on.”

“It’s about Red. He’s hiding material at the old paint factory on the edge of town. The only problem is the ground is bugged with sensors, there’s no air entry options and there’s street level cameras everywhere. We need underground plans by the end of the week. Seungcheol wants a meeting but just strictly the four of us.”

Wonwoo takes it all in, sipping his milk quietly, waiting for them to finish.

“Okay.”

It’s all the older man says before shuffling to the sink to wash his glass and waving them goodnight.

Hongjoong sits back in relief. “That went well? Maybe the milk was really good.”

“Maybe it’s laced with Xanax.”

“Or he suddenly developed a soft spot for us.”

They both look at each other with a grin. “Definitely the Xanax.”

****

There’s a red Honda Civic parked next to San’s hiding hole. He had a decent sleep and when he woke up, there it was, perfectly positioned for him to car jack.

It’s a 2001 model at best. Not likely bugged with screeching alarms, judging by how ancient it looked, except for the tires. The tires and hub caps look strangely new.

Stranger still, nobody has come to claim it in over two hours.

Time is of the essence. Seize the day and all that Latin motivation.

San has his father’s old crowbar and figures he can at least sell the shiny new hub caps for some money. It’d be nice to buy decent food again.

He’s gotten two off when there’s a hand that closes around his shoulder.

It startles him like an electric shock and his body reacts by spinning around to swing the crowbar at some unsuspecting ankles.

But if he’s quick, the ankles are even quicker.

And now the ankles are laughing at him.

By the time he’s standing up with the crowbar in front of his body like a weapon, he finally sees the Laughing Ankles.

“Oh. It’s….you.”

“Hey kid.”

“I said don’t call me that!”

It’s late afternoon and San can finally see the other man’s face clearly now.

He’s younger than expected, with dark dirty blonde hair and really straight teeth. He’s about Sans height but broader and built in ways San’s pathetic muscles could only dream about.

Handsome, some part of his brain whispers, but he’ll pretend he didn’t hear that.

“Stealing is a crime you know.” The Man says, leaning casually against the Honda with his hands in his pockets, as if he wasn’t even threatened by the feral creature holding a crowbar.

“So is breaking and entering.” San counters, offended by the casual response.

“I guess we’ll call it even then.”

San lowers his crowbar, staring slack mouthed. “You’re not gonna call the cops?”

The Man screws up his face. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh.” San breathes, relieved but feeling out of sorts. “Why not?”

“What’s the point?” The Man shrugs. “Unless you want to go to jail? Awful free meals, very permanent shelter? I mean, it’s a pretty cool deal except for the torture, stabbings and lack of freedom.”

San shakes his head. “No, no, I’m good here.”

“You live around these parts huh?”

San pauses. “No, just visiting.”

Something about his answer makes the Man chuckle.

“Okay, well I’m pretty hungry. You eaten lunch yet?”

San shakes his head again. He hasn’t had dinner or breakfast either.

“Alright, put my hubs back on and I’ll buy you a hot dog.”

It’s the one thing San thanks his father for teaching him; how to hot wire and work cars apart before putting them back together again. There’s not exactly a lot of legal applications but for once, it proves helpful.

“You a mechanic’s kid or something?” The Man asks, surprised at the speed and skill.

“Sort of.”

“Interesting.”

It’s the way the Man says it that has San on edge. His mind floods with images of being kidnapped and trafficked or turned into a drug mule. He’s seen it happen countless times before and would rather die than let that happen to him.

But he’s so tired of being hungry and vows to bail as soon as he’s eaten.

They walk to the nearest 7-Eleven and he gets two hot dogs. Then a third, with cheese. It’s the best meal San’s had in months probably. He can’t even remember.

He’s chugging a blue Gatorade when the Man gets a phone call that turns his bright face all stony and cold. It’s a short phone call with barely two words exchanged.

“Gotta go. Stay out of trouble.” The Man says, walking away before hesitating and turning back round. “Don’t go near the abandoned paint factory tonight.”

And then he’s gone again, before San has even finished his Gatorade.

It’s later, when he’s walking to the other end of the city, that San finds a folded twenty dollar note in his jacket pocket.

Weird.

****

Two days later, San’s curiosity gets the better of him and he’s back down near the paint factory again, taking care to stay hidden in shadow and well away from the front of the 7-Eleven. He knows there’s cameras. He saw the monitors that one time he went inside to contemplate buying some Skittles but not wanting to break his twenty dollar note, he stole a sandwich instead.

Resting now, hidden in shadow on the landing beside a laundromat, he’s startled awake by a sudden burst of commotion and noise. There’s a mocking laugh followed by a flurry of angry shouting.

Someone runs past him and rounds the corner to disappear into the shadows towards the old bakery.

Before he can do the same, a hand yanks the back of San's jacket.

“Not so fast.”

Cops.

Great.

“Where did he go?”

“Who?”

The hand shoves him against the dirty wall. “I don’t have time for this shit. He ran down this alley way, where did he go?”

San struggles against the heavy body caging him in but it’s futile. “I don’t know!”

He’s shoved hard against the jagged wall again, it grazes his cheek uncomfortably.

“I think….he went behind the 7-Eleven…”

Another cop jogs up to them now, taking in the scene and pulling his partner back.

“Don’t waste your time. It’s just a useless street kid.”

“He said he’s behind the 7-Eleven.”

“He’s probably lying, they all do that.”

There’s a loud crash coming from outside the alley way and the hand on San’s jacket leaves momentarily, only to shove him onto the ground as the cops run towards the new chaos.

It’s not until later, when the boots and voices and sirens have all faded away, that San quietly sneaks into the old bakery.

“Oh it’s you, hey kid.”

It’s dark but the light gleams off the Man’s teeth and it reminds San of that book from school, the one with the smiling purple cat that was as helpful as it was a nuisance.

“They gone?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure about that?”

San nods. “I checked.”

“What else did you see?”

“A lot of cops and a really big car.” San says. “Kinda weird.”

The Man looks at him sharply, the intensity piercing, even through the darkness.

“How big?”

It’s a strange question, San thinks. Why is the size of a car the most important question here.

“Really big?” He replies lamely.

“Big like a Bentley or big like a Maybach?”

“What’s a Maybach?”

There’s a pause and San thinks he’s annoyed the Man in some way, only for him to continue on in the same steady voice.

“Was it a little bit bigger than my Civic? Or a lot bigger?”

And ah, those are some dimensions that San does understand. “A lot bigger.”

The Man nods then sits back against the wall in contemplation. There’s a sliver of light than shines across his face for a moment and San wonders who the person opposite him really is. What was he trying to steal? Who was after him? Besides cops and someone in a really big car. He can’t just be another Nobody. He must be a Somebody.

“Come on, let’s go.”

San looks at the Man standing up now, confused by the invitation and even more confused that it’s extended to him.

“Go where?”

There’s a flash of hesitation, conflict, early regret maybe. San knows those looks well, he’s seen it on the faces of his parents and almost every adult in his life. They always leave but they never want to take him with them.

“You hungry?”

He’s always hungry so he nods.

“Then let’s get outta here.”

It’s an uncharacteristically cold night for June and San shivers as they walk, even though he’s wearing almost everything he owns.

“Here.”

It’s a thick black Nike hoody.

He must stare at it for an awkwardly long time because the Man rolls his eyes and shoves it against his chest.

“You keep shivering, it’s giving me anxiety.” The Man says. “Just put it on, it’s just a hoody, not a bomb. God, you’re as paranoid as Seonghwa.”

“Who?”

“Ah, just a guy I know. Don’t repeat that name to anyone though, okay?”

San nods as they stop to let him put the hoody on under his jacket.

It’s quiet for a moment before the Man talks again.

“I’m serious about that. Keep his name out of your mouth. Things like that can get you killed out here.”

San looks across, panicked all the sudden, and wondering again, who the hell was walking beside him. Maybe this was the time to run off down one of those alley ways.

The horror on his face must be obvious because The Man’s serious expression softens a little, not completely, but it’s less threatening.

“I'm not here to kill you kid. Relax.”

San absolutely does not relax.

“It’s just very important to me you understand what I’m saying right now. You’ve helped me out a few times now, so I’m going to go easy on you. I know you’re smart. I know you know these streets back to front. But I can and will find you if I need to. So if that name ever leaves your mouth and I get wind of it, I won’t be this nice. You got it?”

San nods like he’s never nodded before. His hunger long forgotten and even the promise of food doesn’t seem worth it anymore. Not from someone who might be a few breaths away from crazy.

He slows down and considers his options. He thinks about running again. There’s a patch of shadow up just ahead and he’s fast, he could make it...

But they reach the familiar sight of the Honda Civic now and The Man motions for him to get in. He doesn't. He pauses, frozen with his fingers on the door handle.

“If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have done it by now.” The Man says, as if reading his mind.

They are probably words meant to comfort him but all they do is the exact opposite.

San always trusts his gut, it’s never let him down, but right now it’s twisting uncomfortably in knots; unsure and uncertain.

“Uh, I’m actually not that hungry.” He says. “I’ll just go if that’s okay.”

The Man just eye rolls condescendinly.

It all feels so abnormal to San. Even for someone not fond of human interaction, the Man in front of him is behaving in ways that just don’t make sense.

“Get in the car.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m good, I should be asleep…”

“Why? You got school tomorrow? A job you need to be at?”

It’s a low blow and they both know it. It turns San’s uneasy fear into an angry fire that’s ready to fight. If this is how he dies, then so be it.

But before he can even spit out an insult the Man is looking at him with another one of those smiles.

“What? You gonna fight me?”

“Maybe.”

“Listen kid, I got shit to do later tonight. I’m craving spicy chicken wings and a cold beer. If you want to fight me, can you at least wait until I’ve eaten?”

San doesn’t even know how to respond to that.

“Get in. I’m not asking a third time.”

So San does.

“What’s in that backpack you carry around?” The Man asks him as they drive through the night streets.

“My stuff.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“Just…stuff.”

The Man sighs and it reminds San of his father for a moment, always disappointed and always making everyone feel like they did something wrong.

“Just clothes and stuff from my mum.” San says, hoping the answers is enough.

“Why aren’t you ever at that shelter on the other side of town? They have showers and let you sleep there for the night don’t they?”

San scoffs. “The showers are alright if you get there before everyone else and the volunteers are around. It’s not as nice as you think it is.”

“Why’s that?”

“People fight.” San says, looking out the window at the city skyline. “They take your stuff. Some people get…taken advantaged of. I’m not going there unless I need to clean up.”

There’s a weird look on the Man’s face as his eyes meet San’s. They both look away.

“How do you eat?”

San moves uncomfortably in his seat. The unusual criminal beside him, and San is definitely sure he is a criminal by now, suddenly sounds like a social worker.

He think he prefers the criminal.

“Steal it. Or trash dive.”

“How long you been doing this for?”

This.

“Nearly two years.”

It’s quiet after that. Neither talking until they pull up at a small restaurant.

The car doors are still locked.

“I’m going to ask you something and I need you not to lie to me.”

“…okay?”

“You know about the gangs of this city don’t you?”

“Only some.”

“You know what I am then?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Well, nobody’s stupid enough to break into the paint factory. The only thing in there is probably illegal. I saw your gun before... and your clothes are too nice for someone who drives a stupid Honda Civic.”

It must the right thing to say because the Man laughs before turning serious.

“You scared of me?”

San scoffs. “No.”

Yes.

“Who do you belong to?”

“I don’t belong to anybody.”

“I told you not to lie.”

“I’m not!” San says. “I’m not in anyone’s gang.”

“So you’re telling me, that in the two years you’ve been out here on your own, nobody has ever tried to recruit you?”

“Of course they tried. I didn’t say it worked.”

“That sounds like bullshit.” The Man says. “Who tried?”

San’s anger rises again. “What’s it to you? Maybe I’m just good at hiding.”

“I’ll buy you chicken if you tell me how you’ve managed to stay alone and alive this whole time.”

“Ugh, fine!" San huffs, tired and irritated by all the questions. "Everyone’s scared of the paint factory and the big car that sometimes goes there. I figure the closer I am to the danger, the safer I’ll be. Well, it doesn’t really make sense but it's true.”

“So you're just really good at hiding all the time? I find that hard to believe. Someone is always watching.”

“How would you know anything about that?” San asks spitefully.

“Where do you think I came from?”

It’s a loaded response, hanging heavily between them in the car.

“I....hide in places people don’t go or know about. In the daytime, I stay near the university so they think I’m a student. And when I can’t do that, I sit near the bus stops so people think I’m going somewhere.”

San hates himself for saying anything at all but his gut instincts aren’t blaring out warning sirens anymore, haven’t done for the last fifteen minutes, which is the most surprising fact of all.

“Alright.” The Man says, unlocking the car doors and getting out. “Let’s eat before I have a hypo.”

San scrambles to follow him.

“What’s a hypo?”

****

The Man gives him a job.

He’s never had a real job before. Not that this is a real job at all but he gets paid actual money. It’s not much but to San, holding the notes in his hand, he might as well have won the lottery.

All he has to do is watch the paint factory and report when the big cars, the Maybach, rolls by.

The Man doesn’t give him his name. He doesn’t ask for San’s either. It’s strange feeling but then again, San hasn’t had anyone say his name in nearly a year.

“Names are important on the street. It’s a myth that there’s no honour amongst thieves. Honour and respect is everything to these people.”

San nods, mentally taking notes. They’re working on the Civic because the transmission sounded strange down the highway. San knows a thing or two about engines and apparently, so does the Man.

“Don’t give anyone your real name. Don’t give anyone mine.”

“But I don’t know your name.” San points out.

“It’s safer for you that way. You’ll earn it when the time comes.”

Earn what?

“Do you remember the name of my friend?”

“Yeah.”

Seonghwa. Of course San remembers. It’s a nice name.

“There’s only two people you can trust with that name. Me and him. Maybe our boss.”

“Who’s that?”

The Man laughs. “You’re definitely not getting that one. But when you meet him, you’ll know. You ever seen a MMA fighter?”

“I think so? Like um, Conor McGregor?” San saw him once on TV, fighting until he was bloodied but victorious.

“Yeah, just picture that in a suit."

“Is he nice?”

The Man snorts. “He’s terrifying. But I guess he can be nice when he wants to be. Just don’t be a brat to him. I mean it.”

It’s not a comforting description.

“What about your friend? Will I know him when I see him?”

A strange smile spreads across the Man’s face, one that's different to all his other smiles. “Yeah you’ll know him when you see him. He looks like his name. Like a tall model in the most expensive suit.”

“A what?” San doesn't know what to picture in his mind.

“Like those billboards in the city, the black and white perfume ads. That’s what he looks like.”

“Oh…okay.” San nods like he understands but he doesn't. Maybe he should go do some billboard research tonight because he really has no idea what a model killer supposed to look like.

“I want you to be smart and careful about who you trust. You shouldn't even trust me if your gut says otherwise, okay?”

“I can’t trust you?”

“Not if you think it's wrong. I want you to learn to trust yourself first. It’s an important skill. But you’re already pretty good at it.” The Man says with a relieved sigh, finally finished with the car's wiring. “What does your gut say about me right now?”

“I don’t know.” San shifts uncomfortably, feeling put on the spot. “You’re…okay.”

“I’m okay?” The Man chuckles. “No, report it to me. Like a summary.”

And that just makes San sweat.

“Well, you’re....not mean to me. You didn’t call the cops. You make sure I’m not in danger. But then you get yourself in danger, which is a kind of stupid. You buy me food and gave me a job. So I guess that makes you okay.”

“That’s a terrible summary of me.” The Man laughs. “But fine, I’ll allow it.”

San shrugs, cheeks blushing for some reason.

“Oh! I forgot to give you this.”

It’s a card that says 24 hour gym.

San isn’t sure what to do with it, he turns it over in his hand, looking up expectantly for an explanation.

“It’s a gym membership card. It gets you into Planet Health, that big building two blocks from here.”

“What do I do with it?”

“You go there?” The Man says laughing, “You never been to a gym before?”

San shakes his head.

“Oh, well you don’t have to use all the equipment but they have showers and you can sleep there for a few hours. It’s better than the streets.”

San nods slowly as his finger traces over the name on the card.

“Who's Kim Juyeon?”

“That’s you. Well, it’s a fake name obviously. Don’t use your real name. Not in the field. Not at work.”

“Hotels and motels need ID. Gyms barely care. But pretend to use the treadmill or something when you go, otherwise it’s just going to look suspicious. You already know about blending in, just do that and you’ll be fine.”

San is still staring at the card. Then he stares at the man. Trying to figure out the maths and motive behind it all.

“What?”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“I’m employing you, I need you alive to do your job.” The Man says matter-of-factly.

San nods. Of course. Of course. It’s part of the job because why would anyone just care about him for no reason.

But he doesn’t push his luck by asking more questions. Especially when the hot water pressure at the gym almost makes him cry. He spends twenty minutes in there, washing away years of street grime all at once, watching his old life swirl down the drain and finally emerging like a snake with new skin.

The gym machines are intimidating but he finds a treadmill the next day and walks very very slowly on it. It’s not so bad.

He sleeps when he can, a few hours here and there. The job is mostly nocturnal so he occupies his daylight hours how he's always done.

The university term has started up again and in the late afternoon San makes his way down to it's big grassy courtyard. He watches other eighteen year olds with their book bags and nice clothes walking to classes and laughing with their friends. He doesn't even have any friends. It’s bittersweet if he’s being honest with himself and he tries not to resent the lives of other people. It doesn’t really work.

The Man gave him a book to read, something about looking the part and getting some culture. The cover is old and worn and there’s a scrawled PSH on the first page.

It’s a story of a boy shipwrecked at sea and San struggles through the first chapter, not particularly enjoying himself but he figures he was given this particular book for a reason, and he’ll finish it, even if it kills him.

The sun is high and warm in the sky as San struggles through chapter two. And that’s when he sees him.

Or to be more accurate: hears him.

It’s a shrill cackling laughter, wheezy in parts, not dignified or pretty, but completely joyful. It’s the kind of laughter that could only comes from someone who doesn’t care what other people think of them.

The sound belongs to a heartstoppingly handsome guy on his phone, talking and laughing animatedly about something to do with avocados, the movement scrunching up his face in a way that shouldn't be attractive at all but just is. His hair is dark and shaggy, half tied back messily, like he did it in a hurry, and he has a distinctly prominent nose that reminds San of someone he’s seen on TV once.

San can’t look away. And doesn't.

He can’t remember the last time he saw someone so bright like that. He can't remember the last time he ever felt like the world spun around just one person. He wonders if any of this is normal.

The Man who employs him glints cold silver in the way a knife does but the one walking towards him now just shines warm and yellow like the sun.

The Guy walks past now and heads inside the cafe that San's always been too afraid to go in. Partly because it’s crowded but mostly because they charge five whole dollars for just one small cup of coffee.

He resigns himself to his coward's fate: parked on grass, reading a book he hates, watching for the guy who shines like the sun every Thursday and never having the guts to following him into the cafe.

Well, things could be worse.

The courtyard gets busier as the university term progresses and it’s not until one day, when it’s about to rain, that San is finally forced to set foot inside the cafe.

It’s busy.

The crowd makes him anxious but he stutters his way through ordering a cup of Earl Grey tea, because it was the cheapest drink on the menu, and finds a poky little table in the corner to sit and wait for the skies to clear.

He feels normal. Just for a moment. He could pretend to be another university student: he's Kim Juyeon, drinking a cup of tea in a cafe and reading a book about a shipwreck. Nobody would know he’s homeless and has no future.

Once the rain stops, the crowds disperse quickly, the students probably rushing back to their classes, and with that, the charade is over. San goes back to being a nobody.

He’s nursing the rest of his tea when there’s a peal of laughter, one that he’d recognise anywhere now.

The Sun Guy bursts through the cafe doors, says sorry to everyone and no-one in particular, before making his way towards the counter. San watches him order a caramel latte and something called a chocolate eclair, whatever that is.

The Earl Grey in San's cup is gone now and he doesn’t know if he’s supposed to buy another one just to keep sitting there. Are there cafe rules he doesn't know about? He'll need to ask the Man about this later.

But to be sure, to save himself the embarrassed of overstaying his welcome, he reluctantly gets up to leave and tries to discretely catch a glimpse of the Sun Guy on his way out.

It's near the exit when they suddenly lock eyes and San shrinks back like he's been hit with lightning. He has to look away quickly but in the process he nearly brains himself on the door frame and it takes him two attempts to open it before he’s successful. The last thing he remembers is a bright amused smile directed right at him. It might as well have been a shotgun and San has no idea how to respond to that so he doesn’t.

“What’s with you?” The Man asks when they meet up that night.

“Nothing.” San grumbles morosely.

Nothing but total life ending humiliation in front of the most handsome guy on campus.

The Man asks for his report and there’s still no activity at the paint factory but two Maybachs drove past. Nobody got out but the 7-Eleven worker waved to one of the cars.

"Interesting."

The Man drives him to the gym for his nightly shower, a privilege San still can’t get his head around, and gives him a crash course on gym equipment which he doesn't listen to.

It’s nearly Four PM the next day when San makes his way to the university again. It’s a Thursday, he’s figured out that the Sun Chocolate Guy must have a specific class in the afternoon on a Thursday.

Sometimes they see each other. Sometimes they don’t. Sometimes there’s people with the Guy. Sometimes he’s alone. None of it helps San get over his cowardice. He’s still resigned to just watch from afar, drinking his one cup of tea and reading a book he doesn't even like.

He’s sitting by the cafe window one week, still cursing himself, when a cup rattles next to him, it's followed by the smell of chocolate.

There's a presence next to him and with his heart thumping in his throat, San forces himself to look up slowly; his eyes trailing from the loose pants, to the slouchy White t-shirt half tucked in, to the soft light denim jacket. He swallows and steels himself as he reaches a veiny tanned neck, messy black hair and an amused smile.

When their eyes meet, all he can think about is that he’s never actually had a crush on anyone until now.

The Guy's lips are moving.

Wait.

"Um, can you repeat that? I missed it." San stammers, bright red and sweaty.

The Guy smiles kindly. "I asked you if I could sit here?"

"Here?" San blinks at him incredulously.

"Yeah? That okay?"

"Oh, um, yeah. That's okay."

"Thanks."

The Guy sits down, taking a sip of coffee and small bite from his chocolate eclair with a satisfied hum.

San just stares at him like the loser he knows he definitely is.

"You stare a lot you know.” The Guy says as he observes him with a tilt of his head.

"Sorry." San blushes red again and diverts his gaze to the book the Guy is reading. There’s a lady with a sword on the cover; The Feminism of Joan Of Arc, it reads.

"I didn't say it was all bad."

The Guy just keeps on reading and sipping his coffee so San figures he should do the same, except he can't even make sense of the words on the page.

“You know, we’re always here on the same days. I figure it's about time we met. Don't you?"

The Guy is still looking at his book but San isn’t sure if he's even reading it or not.

"Why?"

"What do you mean "why"? Why not?"

"But you're...."

The Joan of Arc book is a snapped closed and those shiny eyes are suddenly on him. It's still feels like lightning. Like the first time it happened.

"I'm what?"

Way out of my league.

"You look…busy.” San finishes lamely.

The Guy looks at him with a mix of amusement and condescension.

"You're cute."

"Huh?" He's staring again.

"Those eyes are going to get you into trouble one day." The Guy says with a sad chuckle. "What's your name? You have a name right?"

"It's...Juyeon." San says hesitantly, the name sounding so unnatural in his mouth and even worse out loud.

There's a hand extended across the table and he's suddenly shaking it.

"I'm Wooyoung. Good to finally meet you."

San is busy cataloging the sensation of The Guy, Wooyoung's, hand when a phone goes off somewhere nearby.

He's still holding on awkwardly when there's a sharp squeeze and tug on his fingers. "Er? I think that's your phone."

Oh.

The Man gave it to him and truthfully, San is struggling to get used to having one again.

He drops Wooyoung’s hand quickly and digs into his pocket. "Hello?"

"Hey Kiddo, need a favour. Where are you?"

"Out."

"Yeah where? I'll come get you."

“At the cafe."

"I'm 10 minutes away so be out front."

The phone call is short and San hangs up cursing life. The one day this happens and he's gets an actual call in.

"You need to be somewhere?"

"Yeah. Sorry. It's….work."

"Why are you apologising?!" Wooyoung laughs. “It’s fine."

Reluctantly, San stands to gathers his jacket and brushes the crumbs on the table into his empty cup.

"I'm here every Thursday.” Wooyoung says, it’s quieter, almost shy, if San read that right.

"I know."

It escapes from San’s mouth before he can stop it. But instead of teasing him. Wooyoung says nothing. Just gives him a warm knowing smile.

"Good. So I’ll see you next week?”

"Yeah…sure, Okay, um, I'm going to wait out front for my ride."

In his haste, he rushes out without his jacket and has to go back for it like an idiot. "Forgot this. Um, bye again."

"See you next week." Wooyoung says brightly with a wave.

When in gets in the car he lets out a groan. Why is he always such an idiot at the worst time.

"What's wrong with you?" The Man asks, eye brow curious and concerned. It's nice that someone is concerned about him. He forgot what that felt like.

“Nothing.”

“You made a friend?”

San whips his head across. “How do you know that?” He asks defensively.

“Because the cafe has windows?”

"I don't want to talk about it." San flushes and stares out the window. They let the topic go.

The drive to the old paint factory is quiet and they park two blocks away, walking the rest of the way through the back roads.

“What are we doing here?”

“Just recon stuff, I need you to cover my back okay?”

“From what?” San replies in a panic. He isn’t ready to be promoted to a job like that. “Is someone coming after you?”

“Relax. Nobody is coming. We’re just going to do some walking and some measurements.”

He’s gives instructions to mark walls with glow-in-the dark stickers. And despite asking three times, he doesn’t get any explanations.

“Geez, slow down. You’re going to choke on that hot dog.” The Man says later, when they're eating at a sleeping diner.

San slows his chewing but it feels like a waste of time.

“I need to talk to you about something. And after I’m done, you’re not going to repeat it to anyone. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I need you to stay away from the paint factory for the next two weeks. No sneaking to look or anything. If you get caught, you don’t tell anybody you saw me or know me.”

San swallows the last of his hot dog and frowns deeply. This doesn’t good at all. This sounds final. Like another goodbye.

“Don’t go looking for me.”

“But-“

“Don’t go looking for me.” The Man repeats again firmly. “If I need to find you, I’ll find you. There’s money in that locker at the gym. It’s yours. Use it.”

San’s mind is reeling now and it takes him agonising seconds to put it all together.

The Man is leaving and it’s somewhere San can’t follow. Something will happen at the paint factory but he doesn’t know when. He’s going to be left alone again.

“Geez, cheer up,” The Man says, as if he didn’t just drop a depressing bomb in San’s lap. “I’ll be back in a few weeks. You’ll be fine. You’ve survived for two years, just remember everything you’ve learned. And always trust your gut instincts okay? Even if it goes against what I said.”

San nods dutifully, unsure if he should be as sad as he feels. He doesn’t know anything personal about the man next to him but they've spent almost every day together. He doesn't want to admit he's attached to the routine but what else could he call it?

“Okay, I should go. Be good. Stay out of trouble. Remember what I said.”

There’s a squeeze on San’s shoulder and then he’s all alone again.

****

The normally black night sky is lit up angry orange and smokey. Even a block away San can feel the intensity of it.

It’s unreal. Like a scene from a horror movie that he can’t quite trick his mind into believing.

The closer he runs towards the flames, the worse his gut feels.

It’s the old paint factory. The entire property is on fire. Everything is engulfed in flames, there’s no sirens because the fire must have melted all the cameras and sensors. Across the street, the 7-Eleven is closed. It never closes.

There’s a small section of side fence that hasn’t caught fire yet and San slips through it, pulling up his shirt to try and stop breathing in all the smoke. He runs to the nearest window where the light is still flickering but he can barely see anything and his eyes both water and burn.

Then he sees him. The Man, crouched on the floor, next to what looks like a hole in the ground, stuffing files into his bag, seemingly unbothered by the flames creeping closer towards him.

“What are you doing!! The whole place is on fire!!” San yells out, voice shaky with a fear he hasn't felt in a long time.

The Man whips his head up and San can only see his eyes flashing angrily.

“What the fuck are you doing here! Get out of here before they come!”

The Man forcibly pushes him back out the window with a strength that San didn’t know he had. When he reaches his hand back through the window, it’s gripped still.

“You are leaving right now!”

“But you’re going to die here!” San coughs, tears already tracking down his face.

“Yeah that’s the point.” The Man says sadly. “Go. Go find him; Seonghwa. You can trust him but only him. Tell him what you saw.”

“But-“

“Just go. Do this for me.”

The Man lets go of his arm and runs back through the burning building as San sees another group of men chasing him down the corridor.

A wall collapses and San has to drag himself away. Every step full of dread and feeling wrong.

Climbing on a rooftop, numb and exhausted, all he can do is watch as the whole factory burns to the ground. The big Maybach cars speed off as the police and fire trucks converge on the area.

And San waits. Half expecting a smiley face to pop up unexpectedly to scold him for crying over someone he barely knows.

It’s not until nearly dawn, when there are only a handful of officers guarding the ashened property, that San gathers himself to go down there.

But there’s nothing.

Every building is flattened and destroyed. There’s no way anyone could’ve survived that.

In the room where he last saw the Man, the hole in the floor has buried under mountains of debris.

He knew. The Man knew this was coming.

There’s quiet voices to his left. And that’s when he hears it.

“Fuck, get him on the phone, I need to tell him.”

It’s a tall and broad man, imposing in both presence and stature, frowning at the burnt factory. There’s another standing beside him, dark and in glasses, who holds out a phone.

“You alone? Line clean?”

“Kim’s missing.”

There’s a knowing tone to the way the man says it. A weary sadness. If he was the enemy, the response would’ve been different.

San’s gut tells him that this must be the boss he was told about.

He watches the two men for a few more minutes, quietly following them until they reach their car that’s parked a block away.

It’s the one in glasses that sees him first.

It all happens faster than San prepared for. The hands that grab him are strong and efficient. He’s shoved against the car in a headlock.

“Talk.” The boss says, voice deep but calm. “You followed us a whole block.”

He’s bristling with an intensity that San hasn’t felt before.

Terrifying.

Yes, this must the Boss.

“I....want to talk...to Seonghwa.”

The man raises his eyebrow in shock and shares a troubled look with the other.

Then it all goes black.

#maybe monster #for anyone who was interested in reading my drafts #i'll slowly find and fix them up #but it's like bits and pieces on my phone #i'm digging for them like an archeologist lol #ateez

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gumnut-logic · 1 year ago

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WIP Monday

Kayo had been in the Appalachians when John broke comms silence. The fact he broke that silence just as she was about to forcibly enter a building and detain a GDF spy spoke urgency just by itself.

TI New York was under attack.

She didn’t swear.

But she did whip out her tranq gun and dart the man through the window of his log cabin. The fact he was wearing a similar plaid shirt to her heavy lifting brother was just insulting.

“John, tagged but not bagged. Get London in on this please.”

“FAB.”

She was running as she spoke. S was hidden as she always was, the breeze through the trees rattling against her hull in these tight confines the only giveaway that she even existed. Woods were not Kayo’s favourite. Jungle was worse. Plains and deserts and high cliffs gave her line of sight to see them coming.

‘Them’ was everyone. Trees hid far too much.

She didn’t need her ‘bird to be visible, grabbing invisible rungs as her ladder lowered, leaping up into her cockpit. The world’s most quiet VTOL engaged, lifting her above the trees, high enough to let Shadow’s wings unfold.

She still marvelled at her ‘bird. Wings as thin as origami paper and speed that almost rivalled One. Almost.

Which meant she was on approach to TI New York within moments.

The building was architectural brilliance. Older than any other TI building, bar the factory in Kansas, it was a spike of eco-conscious glass reflecting the New York skyline.

Thunderbird One was perched on the roof.

Five was churning situation reports via One’s sensor array. Everything was mostly unknown. An emergency signal had been triggered, and the seventy-second floor was a blindspot. It was as if the floor didn’t exist.

Acknowledging Five and shunting the feed to her wrist, she perched S ever so silently on the side of the building. Ignoring the wind buffeting at this height, she slipped out of Shadow and into the shadows.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #kayo kyrano #nuttyfic #written more #but interrupted by a stupid migraine #damnit #was writing good too #has Virgil pov as well #enjoyed playing with Kayo #and making up shit #😁

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erzatz3117 · 5 months ago

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@vvindication sorry for tagging you, but I thought you might like this other piece of my writing I translated *stares into the sky, waiting for a punishment from the heavens for my arrogance*

November 17th, 741, 7:23 AM. Rodgaard, Pervorodina. The Founding Stone. Anton Wladomojski, President of the Republic of Czarnovia-Sevraport, is walking down a winding, completely empty corridor. He is intently watched from the frescoes on the walls by politicians and bureaucrats, warlords and apostles leading faceless rabble. Like waves following celestial propulsors, the human masses consumed every obstacle on the path set from above - the Elven civilization, wiped out to the last tribe, the renegade states that defied the supremacy of Rodgaard and Divine Sevra, the socialist and anti-colonial forces of the recent past, trampled by measured economic pressures.

The pristine twilight of the millennia-old chambers, the dusty and unmoving air pressed tangibly on the President; the image of the Founding Stone, built up over centuries of human statehood, suggested to anyone entering the palace only one thought: the history of civilization is entirely woven from the aspirations of its greatest representatives, and therefore those who entered the palace through the front door could hardly expect anything.

The asymptote of the corridor finally approached its limit - room №1002. The metal plate with the frightening inscription "COMMITTEE OF MESOECONOMIC ARBITRATION" was unpleasantly out of the surrounding antique surroundings, which made Wladomojski feel even worse.

The redwood parted with a rumble, and the servant of two nations found himself in a room flooded with painful light. Its ringing emptiness was interrupted only by a huge oak table, which strongly resembled the cathedra of a courtroom. The resemblance to a punitive chamber was reinforced by five immovable men in black robes who had already taken their rightful places.

- Anton Wladomojski, right? Czarnovia-Sevraport? Please have a seat, - the sucralose voice of the chairman of the arbitration committee sounded from somewhere in the center of the room, - I hope you got a good night's sleep, *pan prezident*.

The president's eyes still hadn't gotten used to the bright light, so he couldn't make out the faces of his judges or the minor objects of furniture. Fortunately, by the grace of an invisible assistant, another anachronism - an uncomfortable aluminium chair - was beneath him.

Wladomojski was drowning in the green-pink ripples of nervous tension, suddenly feeling acutely his senile weakness, undoubtedly aggravated by alcoholism.

- Some vodka, Mr. Wladomojski? For courage, - a woman's voice and a leaden crystal rang out from his left.

- Thank you, but let's get straight to the point, - Anton Borisovich felt that he was one drop of alcohol away from a heart attack.

- As you wish, Mr. Wladomojski.

The rustling of thick reports and muffled whispering suddenly filled the office, but stopped just as abruptly after the chairman's laconic request:

- Enough. The decision's already been made.

- So what is it?

- Let's go through the entire chronology..... Last December, the Republic of Czarnovia-Sevraport requested a loan of 4 billion reserve kupon-karbovantsy from the Interbank, pledging to repay the amount over the next five years. Interbank reviewed your request and offered you a draft of a loan with an initial interest rate of 10% and an annual increase of 1.70% up to and including 18.50%. You declined, citing, uh, "the unthinkable audacity of compound interest" in your address to your citizens this March. Of course, hardly anyone in Rodgaard would condemn a healthy dose of populism, but you never offered a more reasonable proposal.... We met you halfway, and developed a new project, which implied a reduction in the rate increase to 1.20%, in exchange for pledging part of your state property - first of all, PAO Alchemmach, PAO Simfolijsk Tractor Factory and PAO Thaumenergo. You refused this offer too, demanding a constant interest. And here we are. We have only one offer left for you.

- I'm listening.

- A 12.50% fixed-rate loan in exchange for... 51% of stocks of Alchemmach, Simfolijsk Tractor Factory and Thaumenergo.

- You're... asking for a lot. I'm not sure Simfolijsk will approve of this.

- You can still decline. But we all realize that you *need* that money.

Wladomojski closed his eyes. The pleading faces of Republican ministers emerged from the flickering painful darkness. Without Anton Borisovich, Czarnovia-Sevraport would never have existed, and so the nation still hoped that their president could lead the country out of crisis...

- Miracles don't happen, Mr. Wladomojski. Economic modeling shows that if you refuse our conditions, you will face inter-sectoral economic disintegration. In other words, total decay, - the arbiter of fate seemed to have read the old man's mind.

The president was going through his recent memories as if scrolling through a diafilm. Desperate ministers, deputies understandably blocking the reduction of welfare spending, furious civil servants and workers, who have been starving for months.... ancient monuments of Simfolijsk, his hometown, forgotten and neglected by his own government.

For the tiniest moment it seemed to the father of the nation that he could still turn around it all, immediately cut all ties to the Rodgaard scavengers and save the dying Republic without bargaining with conscience, but the nerve pathways were already burned out on his isocortex - too much time was spent on lavish festivities, talks about "integration" and copious infusions of ethanol. It was too late.

In Wladomojski's hand was an extremely incommodious pen with ink of the traditional crimson color. It traced several quivering lines on the snow-white paper like a wounded, bleeding animal.

- It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. President. Come again anytime you need.

#writing #total decay #voxk

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bunny-hoodlum · 9 months ago

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Sharing this because I feel like it. ☺️ The first 900+ words of Idle Hands (rewrite) so far. 🥹 In case you didn't catch previous now deleted post, I gave up on the 'stressful childhood' direction. Now it's more of a retelling, but I'm still calling it a rewrite. This Naruto is interesting imo. Ahhhh, I hope I'm doing this right? I guess bear with me here. Contradictions may be inevitable, Idk. So, he falls under the Obliviously Evil trope this time around. I'm shooting for 'cheerful yet stressed (traumatized) and actually secretly crazy'. Doesn't fit the standard Dark Naruto depiction, so I can't really say one way or another which he leans the closest to. 😭 He hasn't broken yet, but he's going to get there, so we'll see. 🤭 Hope this instills some hype! :3 Becuz I'm making progress babyyyy~🎵

xxx-xxx-xxx

Idle Hands (2024)

Pairings: NaruHina, eventual NaruHinaSasu

Smut, Freeuse, Dacryphilia

cw: toxic behavior, dubcon, ijime

Summary: There's nothing to do in the sticks. There's even less to do when you're on probation. There's even less than that when: Your dad is the most popular man in town/You've been raised to be a boy and are invisible when you try to be a girl/When your exciting city boy lifestyle has been taken from you.

Or when two losers and a fuckboy choose all the worst ways to have fun. Not that one of them had much of a choice.

There in the middle of an overgrown clearing sat a rusted, abandoned car, wheel-less and sitting atop four cement bricks. The dense forest trees towered in the distance, their foliage deep green and billowing in the wind. Beneath the car, you can follow the remnants of a gravel path out of the clearing, towards an abandoned auto factory – you know, when having an auto factory way the fuck out here somehow made sense. Back before the bubble burst when everything went to shit. But what does he know? He was only six when it happened. Not like that shit ain’t affecting him well into the Y2K or anythin’.

Naruto lounged in the backseat with a nudie magazine and a sage green quilted blanket over his lap, his cheeky eyes devouring the curvaceous models on the pages. Oiled up, lips spread, pouty eyes peering and pleading for his cock.

He nudged his toe in the soft belly beneath the blanket, or maybe he threw it a little harder than he meant to, forcing a slight cough from her throat as her mouth retreated from his cock after gagging.

The blanket rose up from his lap.

“Hey, I didn’t say ‘stop’.” He cupped the back of her head and forced her lips to press against the underside of his rigid girth, teeth sliding and catching against his tender flesh. When the wet, warm vacuum pull of her mouth around his cock returned, he settled back into place, flipping pages like he was reading the newspaper.

Green eyes stared back at him. Earnest, yet cold. White skin framed by black hair. Her tits squished together in a string bikini as she bent forward, her arms crossed underneath their swell.

Shizuka. Didn't matter that she was twenty-four and he was sixteen. There were plenty of ways he could ruin her that life hasn't yet.

His breath quickened, shallow quiet pants puffing past his lips.

Her rich green eyes were growing on him.

Maybe his first girlfriend will have green eyes. If only.

Women like them didn’t exist out here. Not in this dying town of theirs, where their only market street was rows of shuttered-up shops, their storefronts heavily tagged and dirty with runny rust-stains.

Dsy by day, this place was turning into an old person’s home. Or a fucking casket.

Day by day he passed by a chain-smoking mummy, half-deaf and half-blind yet still nosy enough to cuss him out. Every day those same disapproving stares like he was some kind of disease, some kind of curse.

He wanted a woman like Shizuka. He wanted softness like hers to make him forget. He wanted eyes like hers fixed on him in every mundane context, like two lovers, their names signed on the lease just the day before. He wanted her silent worship.

God, he couldn’t wait to get out of here. Couldn’t wait to get a taste of real women.

He was wasting his fucking youth here. His mind too, not that anyone believed he had much of one to begin with.

He imagined someone beautiful, someone way, way, way out of his league taking him inside her, wanting him more than anyone else inside her. She would rewrite his entire history in a single night.

Excitement arced up his spine as pleasure pooled in his groin, building and building–

Naruto grabbed the back of her head. He thrusted into her hot, slimy throat, ignoring her startled whines, the gagging convulsions tightening around his invasive cockhead.

“Gotta train your throat again, huh, Hinata? C’mon, just endure it. I ��ppreciate you not playing with other dudes while I was away, but you’ve really gotten sloppy. But that’s fine, too, actually. It’s kinda cute.” He threw his head back and closed his eyes, surrendering to the soft, clinging sensations thrumming around his cock. He was melting against her devoted tongue, so persistent to please him no matter what as she licked and laved the ridgid underside with broad sweeps that left echoes of each across his turgid flesh.

Knock knock knock!

A rhythmic tapping on the glass beside his head startled the lewd occupants and Naruto threw his toe into her stomach again.

He lowered the nudie magazine atop her head and turned his face out the window.

Bent over at the hip stood the thorn in his side that his dad personally stabbed in him the moment he found himself in front of the family judge again – no less than two months after his release from the Juvenile Training Facility.

The silver-haired man with the lazy, lidded gaze mimed cranking a handle backwards and Naruto sighed. He reached for the window crank, lowering the window just enough that he and Kakashi could properly exchange words.

“Go to school, Naruto.”

Naruto sank into seat, clearing his face of any hint of expression as he leveled Kakashi with a cold, ignorant stare.

His toe had other ideas, as he nosed around the convergence between her legs, finding the soft resistance of her panty-covered cunt. He idly teased her clit while he waited for the weary douche to give up like he always did.

Not like his father’s favorite student was all that invested in him, anyway. The dude was freaky smart and found ways to make his minor infractions such as truancy go away. Precisely to his father’s satisfaction, and not the system’s.

Obito told him someone like Kakashi would have proposed lifelong marriage to ‘The Rules’ if it had taken the shape he most desired.

The fact that he could give two shits about integrity these days convinced Naruto that his dad knew Kakashi’s state of mind. And that he was exactly what his dad was looking for in a probations officer.

Someone that would take Namikaze Minato’s side, always.

Someone that would protect Namikaze Minato’s image, always.

TBC

#naruhina #eventual naruhinasasu #idle hands fic #fic snippet #rewrite #two little shits don't make a right #and Hinata is trapped in the middle #NaruHina are childhood friends but Naruto is too fucked up to be a good friend to her

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mugzymiik · 2 months ago

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hey guys im on that tpc + warrior cat grind so i assigned Ancestor's Strife (a warriors rp with powers ^-^) powers to TPC chars

all Heroes have variants OR hybrids

all monsters have variants

all corrupt counterparts have their pure counterpart's element(s)

Cube/Cubic: metal

c'mon. gears, saws, those fuckin metal claws. /silly

Pentellow: ice

i think she should have it. as a treat. /silly

Iris: light

that thing on his head

Pyrare: rock/sand variant

idk he just gives that vibe

Cyan: rock/sand variant

please please please please please please please please please pl /SILLYJ

Tsavorite: animal communication variant

I dont have an actual reason but also iam NOT being swayed on this /silly

Orange: animal communication variant + fire (hybrid)

animal communication: he and Tsavorite NEED to stick together im NOT apologizing /silly

fire: please just give me this one please please PLEASE /SILLY

Gold: sound variant

honestly the only reasoning i have him down for sound is because i think he deserves to get to make forcefully people stfu. for himself at least

Cyanide: rock/sand variant

one word. or name: Cyan

Lythorus/Lycanthropy: water

idfk i woulda gave him animal communication but i dont want to have a lot of variants on here 😔

Heli: wind variant

helicopter

Ketches: water

boat

Purpex/Hexacrigon: metal

that shit in her bossfight. the line hexagon things???? i dojt know

Marcle: ice

let her and Rincle have ice. PLEASE /sillyj

Squadril: light

FUCKING MAGIC SHOW

Cintagon/Cintagram: light

stars

Circumsphere/Circumcannon: fire

cmon,,,,cannon,,,,,,,,"fire the canon",,,,,,also let him throw a fireball at someone 😭🙏

Quintagon: metal

shovel. thats it

Hexagram/Hexadic: metal

that thing he holds i???? dont know???? what it is????????? also bc the jsab level hes based on is in the factory

Polyhedron: fire

it was originally water but a lot of the fandom considers him like a wizard and who am i to deny them wizard bitch /silly

Circumuscle: body manipulation variant

i think we all know why. /silly

Rincle: ice

let her and Marcle have ice plzzzz /sillyj

Cirtunda: fire

idk

Spheer: ice

IDRK???? I JUST LOOK AT THEM AND GO "yea they look like theyd have ice powers" IDK IF THAT'S JUST ME THO

Ajacent/Ajaceare: water

because her pure design is NOT fire (fire) and it does NOT go hard (ice or metal). im still so salty about this block of cheese we got /silly I DONT CARE IF SHE'S A MONSTER I AINT GIVIN HER SHIT /sillyj

Ajacenus: sound variant

god pls she just gives that vibe.

Ajavex: lightning variant

bc SOMEONE on this list needs lightning at LEAST /silly

Barracuda: sand/rock variant

like his dad

Dub: body manipulation variant

corruption???? hello????? /vsilly

Circusic/Circubit: sound variant

HE CORRUPTS PEPLE WITH MUSIC. OKAY

La Danse Macabre: body manipulation variant

grim repair lookin ass /aff

Trees of Life: probably all of them idk????? ??????? ??????????? ???

God

The Sun: light

sun

Green Tree Monster: animal communication variant + ice hybrid

shares powers with Tsavorite & Pentellow bc. Green Tree

Acrillimus: water

fish

George: no power

(tearfully) i dont like him. /sillyneg-

other headcanons but not really because theyre more of "if they DID have the powers i bet this wouldve happened" but its my blog i do what i want /j:

upon meeting Gold and being told about his sound manipulation Ajacenus immediately started giving him advice on sound manipulation and Gold tuned her out without hesitation and Ajacenus went "nuh uh" and unmuted herself for him basically and it was a neverending battle until Pyrare finally went "this is important quit that" and Gold just tuned them out for him for the remainder of the visit

flowers that are on the more "feral" side when corrupted (cant speak) are able to be communicated with by someone with the animal communication variant- which is how the Green Tree Monster managed to summon so many flowers for that fight in s1ep10

Squadril likes to scare people by turning himself invisible with his powers and randomly appearing next to them

once while they were still figuring out how to control their powers Orange burned Tsavorite on complete accident and Tsavorite sent squirrels after him to be silly and it didnt end well actually (Iris and Pentellow were so flabbergasted by the time they found them because they were covered in squirrel scratches head to toe)

Quintagon and Hexagram have metal fights sometimes

Spheer is REALLY mad that they have ice powers instead of Cool Ass Fire like their granny >:[

#pink corruption #the pink corruption #mmmramblez #tpc #jsab tpc #brittcorruption #jsab:tpc #ancestry life MORE LIKE-

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theliverpudlianuk · 1 year ago

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🎵 Amorphic Music in association with Africa Oyé and Melodic Distraction proudly present the legendary afrofuturist, avant-garde jazz musical ensemble, The Sun Ra Arkestra, live at the Invisible Wind Factory on Saturday the 12th of August 2023.

🎵 The Invisible Wind Factory will welcome guests into the Factory Garden from 3pm with live jazz, DJs and food all afternoon to build up for the main event starting at 7pm in their IWF’s Main Hall, ready to welcome the otherworldly Sun Ra Arkestra.

🎵 The Full Line Up: 1️⃣ The Sun Ra Arkestra (Live Performance). 2️⃣ Bop Kaballa (Live Performance). 3️⃣ SOULFULTIZ (DJ — Africa Oyé). 4️⃣ Nina Keh (DJ — Resonance FM). 5️⃣ Ranga (DJ — Melodic Distraction). 6️⃣ Nick Branton & Johnny Hunter Duo (Live Performance).

🎵 Read the article on our website for the link to tickets: https://www.TheLiverpudlian.com/post/amorphic-music-in-association-with-africa-oye-melodic-distraction-host-legendary-sun-ra-arkestra

👉 Get all of the latest Scouse news, culture and events happening across the Liverpool City Region on TheLiverpudlian.com!

🔔 Turn notifications on so you never miss a post, story or video.

📲 Follow us on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube to stay up-to-date on all of our posts!

📷 Image Credit: Supplied.

👋 The Liverpudlian on Social Media:

📰 The Liverpudlian Website.

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🧵 The Liverpudlian Threads.

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#the liverpudlian #theliverpudlian #liverpool city region #liverpool #liverpoolcityregion #liverpool city centre #liverpudlian #lcr #liverpoolcitycentre #scouse #jazz #sun ra #sun ra arkestra

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3cheers-4sweetrevenge · 1 year ago

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@crawlershq liverpool , invisible wind factory 23rd sept , was actually amazing i love you omg

#crawlersband #crawlers #crawlers band #concert #soup #soup soup soup

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44-mr-midnight-44 · 1 year ago

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Hello, Chonny's Charming Chaotic Cretins, here is a fic I wrote that you might've already read on AO3

It's called Tired Feathers, and essentially it's about Heart getting stuck mid-air because he doesn't know how to land (for reasons that you will all be enlightened by in the future 😉)

Some context to this AU: Heart and Mind are NOT the same person as Soul/Whole, but rather essentially parts of his brain that were awakened and took form, with the desire to merge with him once more; essentially anomalies with a bizarre purpose.

Also Mind really likes How It's Made. (Nerd)

Quiet thuds smacked the carpet floor, a dull smell of dim, nostalgic memories wafting from the ground.

Cool air flowed through the house; a beginning autumn season, pirouetting through the open door of March.

Even in spite of a simple world inside the head of a man lost to his senses, it appeared the chilled, bitter wind and temperature from the outside world reflected in the residence swathed by his memories.

Drops of cool water slumped from an invisible sky; spilling into the rising gradient of black, to grey, to white, collecting in wet mounds of slushy ground.

A lavender nose moved from centre to left, posed like a startled deer as unsight locked onto the noise of a telly.

From the perspective of the other, his eyes had been stuck to the series of morphing shapes of light, iron hands resting on his furled lap.

A muscular build; broad, hard shoulders; a firm sternum.

Vaguely oceanic-hued hair in untamed curls sauntered down his neck; a single pale eye, with almost silvery skin; half of his face almost reminiscent of a pit of torn charcoal.

An unearthly tall stature, easily exceeding two metres, donning an indigo, accented-black polo neck; black daks, with a distinct necklace encasing his throat.

A dark crown hovered above his head; his feet acting as shoes, shaped as such.

Knees bent and tucked to his chest, his vision wide as it sucked in every last detail on the screen.

The counterpart’s sightless gaze fixed on the other, palm placed onto the painted wall.

He had a blindfold wrapped around his “eyes” and buried under obsidian-hued hair; a heather hoodie hugging his torso.

Dark pyjamas encased his legs; nothing to cover his somewhat long, acicular hooves.

Orchid, pheasant-like wings rested on his back; black rings, composed of holograms, circled his wrists, ankles, and torso; a final, larger one settling above his head, studded with sharp lines, reminiscent of a halo.

An almost-silence took over.

Spared by the gentle discussion of factorial processes, as Mind consumed every detail of the information spewing from the blaring box.

Heart could nigh admire the peaceful scenario; Mind was much too focused on his odd show showcasing the creation of many common objects to descend into cacophonous argument.

It felt quiet.

It felt tranquil.

Sedate.

Calm.

Hard nails touched the between of each string on the floor, and Heart pulled himself to the kitchen with a short series of footsteps.

Mind’s focus reigned undeterred; ceaseless attention to each fascinating craft.

Each gadget that moved to perform its part; every robot succeeding in its life’s purpose, failure I present.

He’d wanted to be like those machines on the screen.

He’d wanted to do his purpose as well, just as effortlessly…

♡♡♡♡

After microwaving a sliver of butter atop a crumbly sheet of bread, Heart gripped the plate between his digits, confident legs forming an upbeat stride as he exits the room, reeking of a potent, foul aroma.

Hooves pushing him in the desired direction, cautious wings notifying him of any sneaky walls afront.

A cheerful hum danced from his nose.

Mind had still been exerting each array of perception onto the screen.

Heart, a moment before arriving at the comforts of the couch, made a final, triumphant look at Mind.

Mind hadn't afforded a single glance.

With a lift of the corner of his mouth, Heart deposited his body onto the seat, and started to close his teeth around the bread.

Another beautiful silence.

The shrill echo of morning avians swam from the outdoors; a memory of a polite awakening.

Rushes of black glided through the world beyond their secluded home; almost as if the ground had a heartbeat, pulsing and surging in a monochromatic style.

The floors and staircase creaked and croaked with age, rhythmic taps from the burgundy hue upstairs.

Dust spread limitlessly across each untouched slab of oak.

All was well. All was good.

Heart, after having consumed the bread, crunchy in incorrect places, lifted his skinny body and took to depart with his plate.

Clink!

The dish slept in a cluttered mass of other unhappy plates, bowls, and the such.

Now was time to wait for Mind to clean them all up, as he did, with his obsession with cleanliness.

A modicum of a smile pressed into each side of Heart’s lips, and he idled at the base of the stairs, a hand touched to the railing.

A single toe clunked against the step, and momentarily, he paused.

He then turned his personal attention to Mind, or at least the sound of him.

“(Hey, Mind?)” Heart cooed.

“[…]” A quiet moment broke between their words. “[…Yes?]”

“(I’m… Glad we’ve been getting along today.)” Heart spoke, a soft, wispy voice, narrow lines of fought anger draping across each side of his tone.

“[…]” A deadly silence. “[I… am glad as well. It's been uncommon we've had days where we… Get along.]”

“(…)” Thus formed an awkward, but pleasant, smile.

Heart continued his ascent, before, once again, ceasing movement.

“(…)” …

Heart reversed his direction, and quietly stepped down the stairs, then trailing towards the couch again, hastily.

He leapt onto the such, and created a small circle as he crawled atop the cushions.

He then tilted his attention to the corporately-forced words emanating from the screen.

“[What… Are you doing?]” Mind asked, face contorting in sync with his puzzled pronunciation.

“(I… I wanna watch, too. So that I understand what you enjoy so much about this show.)”

“[Heart, you really don't have to…]”

“(But I must!)” Heart beamed. “(How else will we cooperate if we don't understand one another?)”

“[Heart…]” He could hear the humour in him slightly dispense. “[What did you do to the real Heart?]”

It was certainly an attempt at a joke.

“(Maybe the real Heart feels bad about how he treated the real Mind. Maybe the real Heart wants to understand him better.)”

He could only assume Mind was smiling, based on his lack of a disapproving huff and the vague “mrneh-mrneh-mrneh-mrneh” sound, singing from his modulator.

The sound of their kind showing interest; an alien voice.

♡♡♡♡

Heart made his best attempt to understand what was happening on the telly with his ears.

Wings curled behind his back, neatly bent and thoroughly relaxed.

The occasional adjustment of his blindfold, maybe a dance across his body with his warm fingers.

Mind had seemed much more focused than he had been, no big deal. Mind was logical, he was made for this. He can get the hang of it too, no worries!

Heart’s fingers bundled around his leg, watching with every sense except his own sight.

It was almost like watching a tutorial to create origami on a radio.

“(So… When the car is finished being built, how do they move it?)”

“[Were you not paying attention?]” A stern tone emerged. “[They use conveyor belts!]”

“(Alright…)” Heart sighed.

I’m not half as blunt as this when talking about my interests…

So many confusing words, such disorienting language.

His mind felt like it had reached a roadblock, and he couldn't view any thoughts anymore.

“(I… Have another question?)”

“[…]”

“(Wh… What does a ‘pneumatic press’ do?)”

“[Seriously?!]” Mind snapped, audibly standing up. “[It was explained, like, six times! It uses pressurised gas to…!]”

His thoughts had scattered.

A fog rolled through his mind.

“[Are you even listening?!]” Mind shouted.

“(Well, I'm trying to!)” Heart’s form extended upwards. “(I can't understand all of these stupid fancy words that these shows keep saying!)”

“[Maybe if you weren't so dense–]”

“(Maybe if one of us wasn't born to be the logical part of the brain, while the other was born to be the useless emotional side–)”

“[And here you go, throwing yourself a pity party!]” Mind cried, his voice packed with infuriation.

“(It’s not my fault I was made this way! It’s no help hearing you and Soul point out how inadequate I am, constantly, nonstop, without any pause, I didn't ask to be born this way!)”

“[Heart, none of us asked to be born. And besides, we were created! Heaven knows why we exist, we only spawned just to merge with someone anyway! Our existence is devotion to a cause we were made in the name of!]”

“(You act like I don't know that?! So what if we’re just awakened clumps of brain cells, why is it my fault that I just so happened to be the weaker, meeker clump of brain cells?)”

“[You obsess over our host in the weirdest way possible, and yet you fear him in every way!]”

“(Well…)” Heart itched the side of his neck. “(At least I actually know how to stand up for myself! You just let Soul push you around all day, at least I can set and maintain my own boundaries!)”

“[Like that's even remotely true! You let him walk all over you! You have zero semblance of what real love looks like!]”

“(You have– You have–)”

Heart let out a shout of ire; an inhuman, train-like screech following with his snarl.

A strong foot collided with the ground, and he made a fervent leap, gravity forgetting the shape of his body as his wings heaved and sent him through the air.

“[Heart! Stop that this INSTANT!]”

“(LA LA LA LA LA LA LA! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!)” Heart mocked, his person shooting through the interior of the house as he settled a few metres in the air.

After marching over, Mind crossed his arms, a strict stare stabbing Heart’s awkward position, whom had also had folded arms.

“[Heart. This is ridiculous.]” He scowled.

“(Mm-mm!)” Heart sneered, his head forced away.

“[Heart. Heart. This is very immature of you, and you know how that–]”

“(You're not making me want to come down anymore by insulting me, you wet flag!)”

It appears this would be more difficult than suspected.

“[Heart, come on!]” Mind yelled, clearly growing more frustrated by the second. “[You’re not a year old anymore, this is ridiculous!]”

“(No! You’re not coming up here! Get away from me!)”

Mind offered a sigh, and a package of heat began to curl within the soles of his feet, as he then started to levitate in a similar fashion.

“(HEY! NO! GET AWAY!)” Heart snarled, pointed nails tearing through the air and slashing blindly in front of him.

“[HEY!]” Mind hissed, descending until he regained connection with the floor. “[Don’t claw me!]”

“(Oh, I will claw you.)” Heart said, his lip recoiling to expose his violet teeth.

“[Heart, do not make me get Soul.]”

“(Soul?!)” Heart gasped, and performed a series of odd, almost flail-like movements. “(No! Don't get Soul!)”

“[Oh, I will.]” Mind smirked. “[You don't want that, do you?]”

“(…)” Heart pointed his head off to the side.

“[…Can…]” Mind blinked.

The id tossed and turned in the air, his lip bundled timorously.

His hands had been tightly enveloping one another, and his wings were open, almost like a welcoming embrace.

“[…Can you not get down?]” Mind asked, now stating concern.

“(NO! …Yes? I, I…)” Heart shuddered. “(I can't… I-I don't know how to… …land.)”

“[…Huh.]” Mind snickered. “[So that's why you never fly.]”

“(It’s EMBARRASSING, okay?!)” Heart yowled, shifting in air to appear almost seated.

“[Hey hey, you remember the id-half-of-a-whole-sort-of-brothers rule.]” Mind said, a clear laugh hiding behind his syllables.

Sigh. “(That we get one free laugh, and then we help.)”

“[That’s right. Now…]” Mind then proceeded to erupt into cackling.

Heart produced a cross expression, but allowed him to proceed roaring with ecstasy.

This continued for a minute or two.

“(Okay, okay! Are you done yet?!)” Heart whined.

“[Okay, yes, yes I am…]” Mind spoke, a hint of residual giggles flicking his words.

Mind had once again assumed aerial suspension, then crawling through the open space to take Heart’s wrist into his own hand.

Mind carefully navigated him down to a standard position, fixing his posture to a proper pose to hold while grounded.

“[Why can't you land anyway?]” Mind questioned, setting the other’s hooves to meet the carpet.

“(…Remember what happened with Soul? A few years ago?)”

“[Which time?]”

“(…The time where I got brain damage.)”

“[RIGHT. I’m. I'm sorry for asking, I know you probably don't wish to be rem–]”

“(It’s fine, Mind… It was just a question.)” Heart said, awkwardly adjusting his legs, almost like a baby deer.

“[Okay… On the count of three, I want you to let go of your entire body.]”

“(…Ok.)”

“[One… two… three!]”

And just like that, Heart tumbled out of place, nearly plummeting before he was caught in Mind's embrace.

“(Thank you!)” Heart smiled.

“[You’re welcome,]” Mind internally returned the expression.

“(…Now what?)”

“[…Now.]” Mind thought. “[…Let’s… watch one of those awful nineties cowboy movies.]”

“(Now that’s something the three of us can all enjoy.)”

And so, the day was woven together happily.

#chonny jash #chonnys charming chaos compendium #heart chonny jash #mind chonny jash #chonny jash fic #fallen angel

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