#just as a quick reminder please do not send me bug reports through my ask box as they can't be filed properly from here

[idrellegames]

I think I sent this as a bug report last year but the "extra small" font size is bigger than the "small" font size. Not a big issue, a minor inconvenience trying to read on a smaller screen ^^'

Hello! That bug has already been filed and will be processed according to priority.

[miracle-sham]

Crack Your Bones and Say Those Lies.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Saturday Challenge 3: And They Were Roommates} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] |

———

| After getting roped into the Vigilante life by Chat Noir, her friend and partner in crime, Maladroit tries her best to help fight crime to make the city a better place, if only Red Hood and his gang would stop causing problems. |

| Or alternatively, Marinette and Jason are roommates with secrets. Both have huge crushes on each other but more importantly, both are trying to juggle moonlighting as their secret identities. However, when watching the nightly news together, everything changes. |

| Word Count: 5,014. |

| Warnings/Tags: No Miraculous/Different Powers Au, Roommates, minor gang mentions/Red Hood is a gang lord, gun violence, Vigilantism, Identity Shenanigans/Mistakes, Miscommunication, some emotional hurt, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, and Domestic fluff. Also Oblivious, Protective, & Mutually Pining Marinette and Jason. |

———

| A/N: Hey! Sorry this is nearly a week late but where I live got hit with a nasty heatwave and I was barely able to write from sheer exhaustion from the heat. But on a happier note, I'm so glad I've finally been able to write and post a proper Vigilantes au (as in like Spidey style vigilantism with homemade gear and all!) Because that kinda Vigilante au especially combined with roommates is my favourite trope ever! Well maybe joint with Dragonrider AUs, but still! I've had multiple Vigilante Aus sitting in my notes and drafts so it's brilliant to finally release one into the wild! Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

It's Friday night, and Maladroit and Chat Noir are midway through their usual patrol of their slice of territory in the city.

“Race you to the billboard!” Chat Noir calls out, snickering in an almost cat-like-chitter as he launches himself forwards. Swinging over Maladroit's head with his grapple, he lands on the next roof ahead, in a perfect three-point landing.

Maladroit giggles, “Oh, you're so on!” She grabs her grapple and shoots. Swinging after him and onto the same roof. She instead, dive forward rolls for her landing and uses the momentum to propel her into a run.

Losing his lead due to the momentum loss of the three-point landing, Chat Noir vaults over a roof vent.

Forced to swerve to the side, Maladroit barely dodges a massive puddle of rainwater on her side of the roof.

Neck and Neck, the two raced across the rooftop. Closer and closer to the billboard they raced.

Nearly there! She thinks, c'mon! Reaching an arm out to slap the billboard—

Bzzt!

“Eep!” She yelps, startled by the buzzing crackle of her earring-comms. Unintentionally, she accidentally veers to the side and crashes straight into Chat Noir's side.

They collide with a loud thud, and two of them crumple into a pile.

“Graceful as ever, Mal.” A voice teases over her earring-comms. “Joking aside, didn't mean to spook you, sorry!”

Maladroit groans, “thanks,” and gingerly extracts herself from the vigilante limb pile.

“Gamer!” Chat Noir cheers, having heard him through his own disguised comms. “Got any crimes for us to fight tonight?”

There's a chuckle over the line, “Lucky you should ask, Chat, I do happen to have found some villainous plans for you to thwart.”

Chat Noir cracks his knuckles and stretches. “Oh? What are they?”

“Two which are time-sensitive.” Gamer adds.

Maladroit stifles a squawk, “Two! That are time-sensitive?” Her voice goes up a pitch on the last word, making it sound like a question.

“Uh-huh.” He confirms. “Chat Noir, there's a break-in at a jewellery store two blocks over from you. I'm sending you the directions now to your phone.”

Chat Noir does a two-fingered salute to the nearest security camera. “Got it, G! Detective Noir is on the case!”

“And Maladroit, we've got reports of sightings of Red Hood outside his usual area. By the Warehouses on fourth. There are no security cams around there so I've got nothing but rumours to go on. See if you can check it out and find out what he's up to.” Gamer informs her, sounding slightly irritated at the fact he's got little information to give her.

Maladroit nods, grumbling slightly. “When isn't he up to something.”

Slinging an arm around her shoulder, Chat Noir grins like the Cheshire Cat. “C'mon, Mal! It'll be a quick sweep and nothing will turn up like the last twenty times we've gotten this kinda tip-off!”

“You owe me ice cream from André's when we're in civvies tomorrow!” She huffs. “I made us macarons last time!”

“I haven't forgotten!” Chat Noir protests. “Anyway, see you tomorrow if we don't catch each other for the end of the patrol?”

Maladroit nods. “Yep! See ya later Minou!”

The two split. Chat Noir dashing after the directions, and Maladroit swinging towards the warehouses on fourth.

———

Breathe, Maladroit—reminds herself, perched on the rafters in one of the warehouses on fourth. Staring at the blood-red glowing mask of the red hooded villain, who happens to be oh so creatively named the 'Red Hood', leaning on the balcony railing on the opposite side of the warehouse to her rafter, and presumably glaring up at her.

“It's you again, Maladroit.” He growls, distorted by whatever voice modifier he's got wired into his mask.

She can't help but wince at the reminder of the word she had accidentally said the first time she had ever helped Chat Noir fight crime. Which irritatingly enough, stuck as her vigilante name. Especially since her second attempt at a name, Ladybug, didn't stick. She frowns beneath the black and red spotted bandana covering her mouth, and tightly grips her bladed yo-yo—with piano wire instead of string—of the same colour scheme.

“What are you planning, Red Hood?” She spits out, voice also modified by her bandana, a tad too grumpy and bitterly for the awkward-but-smiley "persona" she's supposed to act like (although it's not so much of a persona when that's just how she is almost all the time). But in her defence, she's had a rough day at uni, things have been awkward at home because of her crush on her roomie lately, and more importantly, Red Hood's lackeys have been a pain in the neck for the past week, so her reaction is more than warranted.

He has the audacity to laugh. “What makes you think I'm going to tell you, Pipsqueak?”

“Well,” Maladroit huffs, “I was hoping you were feeling considerate.”

Red Hood shifts his shoulders. “Aww, sorry Pipsqueak. I'm not feeling particularly considerate today.” In a split second, he slips both guns from his holsters, spins them, and shoots.

Maladroit squeaks, instinctively tugging on her power, and dives off the rafter to dodge the shot. “Rude!”

She's just able to shoot her grapple off and swing up to another metal beam.

“How the fuck do you keep dodging my shots?” He snarls, gesturing at her with his guns in short angry-looking motions.

In response, she throws her yo-yo at him, tugging on her power again. The yo-yo spins through the air, slashing through the Red Hood's jacket sleeve and slicing a deep groove into the gun, then rewinds on the wire back to her. “What makes you think I'm going to tell you, Bullet Boy!” She parrots back, cheekily.

“Hey!” Red Hood snaps, aiming another shot at her.

Tugging on her powers once more, Maladroit yelps as she swings to yet another metal rafter beam in order to avoid the shot. “Your aim sucks!”

“Fuck you!” He retorts, firing off four more shots aimed at her head.

There's a horrifying moment as she barely manages to tug on her powers in time. The bullets barely skimming past her hood, one even tearing the fabric slightly.

“Mal!” Comes Gamer's terrified voice over her earring-comms, “I need you to pull back immediately! Red Hood and his gang have been spotted nearby and Chat can't get to you in time to back you up if you do get into a fight!”

She raises a hand to her earrings and quietly laughs hysterically. “Little too late for that, G! I'm uh currently staring… face to gun to him”

“Oh, fuck!” Gamer responds, voice going up a pitch. “I'm contacting Chat now. Try and get out if you can but prioritise not getting yourself killed, please!”

Red Hood fires his guns again. “Eyes and ears on me, Pipsqueak.”

Squeaking yet again, Maladroit desperately tugs on her power once more and swings to another rafter. Her heart thunders in her chest as loudly as his gunfire. She spits out a frantic, “no promises!” to both of them.

“I've informed him, your backup is on the way.” Gamer tells her.

The main warehouse doors clatter open with a resounding slam! Followed by the stomping of multiple pairs of boots storming inside.

Maladroit waves at Red Hood, the quiet terrified hysterical laughter practically bubbling out of her mouth. “Haha, well I'm afraid that's my cue to Bug Out!”

“Oh, I don't think so, Pipsqueak.” Red Hood taunts, shooting six bullets at her, rapid-fire. “I ain't finished with our convo yet.”

Squeaking for the umpteenth time, and really just giving him even more reason to keep giving her that stupid pipsqueak nickname, she riskily shoots her grapple, aiming and swinging towards the warehouse's large balcony windows.

“Get the fuck back here!” He snarls, voice deepening with fury. Pausing to reload before firing off more shots at her with abandon.

Maladroit wriggles midair, tugging on her powers to try and dodge the shots. She curls into a dive forward roll as the grapple forces her to land onto the balcony. The same one that Red Hood has been stood on this entire time. Oh, help me! She thinks, eyes widening behind her makeshift red with black tinted lenses, goggles-slash-domino mask.

He aims his gun at her once more. “Move and you fucking die, pipsqueak.”

Putting her hands in the air, she swallows a gulp of air. Her body armour is padded beneath her red, and black spotted, hoodie but it isn't bulletproof. And she can feel the straining exhaustion of overusing her powers clawing at her.

They're at a standoff. Still as statues, the both of them. It's almost poetic how they parallel each other. He's got his gun aimed at her, whilst she's desperately clutching at her grappling hook gun in one of her raised hands. Both donned in red. Both committing crimes in the eyes of the law. Two sides of the same coin, one and the same.

Maladroit feels sick to her stomach, staring down the barrels of his guns. Ever so slowly, she tugs on her powers. The window a little bit behind her creaks quietly enough that Red Hood doesn't seem to notice beneath the clamour of his gang doing whatever it is they're doing below.

She counts her breath and tugs on her power. A minute passes with no movement, no words, nothing happening on the balcony. Out of the corner of her eye, she can just see that it's now open enough that she should be able to make it out unscathed. Or at least mostly unscathed.

Closing her eyes, not that he can see, her power snaps. Instinctively she doubles over and slaps a hand over her mouth. Barely in time as a stifled scream is yanked from her throat, leaving her panting for breath. Her knees crash onto the balcony flooring. A bullet whizzes past her neck.

“Shit. What the fuck was that?” Red Hood grumbles, sounding genuinely concerned. He storms across the balcony towards her.

Maladroit can't help but flinch, bodily throwing herself back as far away from him as she can. Mind racing in panic.

He stows one gun back into a holster then reaches a hand towards her. “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down.”

“Gotta go! Bug-bye!” She squeaks out, wrenching on her power with all her remaining strength, and bolting for the window.

“I think the fuck not! Fucking pretending to be hurt.” Red Hood barks, ripping the gun back out of its holster.

Narrowly dodging the spray of bullets shot at her, Maladroit dives through the window and fires off her grapple. Safely swinging far away from the warehouse.

———

Carefully Maladroit drops with the ease of far too many nights of practise, onto the fire escape outside her bedroom window. She crouches and lets the shadows of the night hide her form. Creeping closer, she checks the windowsill for any marks or signs of tampering but it all comes away untouched. Content with her quick security check, she fumbles for the disguised piece of string wedging the window ajar in a way that's barely visible unless you know where to look for it. Got it! She thinks to herself, grabbing ahold of it and prying it, and the window above it, up and open.

Slipping through the open window, she sits on the sill to rip her thankfully not-too-dirty studded steel-toed boots off. Picking them up in one hand, she wiggles the rest of the way into her room and immediately resets the security measures, yanking the curtain down for privacy.

Maladroit then shuffles over to her bed. Tikki—her gorgeous fluffy red and dark brown miniature dachshund—blinks sleepily up at her, from the dog bed next to it. The puppy yaps in greeting before snuffling and curling back up to sleep.

She coos at the cuteness before continuing on. With the other hand not carrying the boots, she pries the blanket covered duffel bag out from underneath. Wrestling to unzip it in one janky and awkward motion, grunting slightly at the exertion. The metal of the zip digs in but the discomfort is mostly mitigated by the padded gloves and wrist guards she's wearing. The easy to clean plastic bag designated for temporary storing of her boots is dragged out of the bag and said boots are tossed in without a second glance.

Huffing, she starts to take the rest of her cross between mostly homemade and refashioned sports kit vigilante gear off. First, tugging down the hood of her hoodie and unclipping the black scrum cap hidden under it. It's dumped unceremoniously into a secondary plastic bag in the open duffel bag. After that, Maladroit removes the black neck guard and pulls her makeshift goggles-slash-domino mask over her head. Those too, are dumped into the other plastic bag. Then she unties the bandana with the nose guard underneath, from around her mouth and nose. Unsurprisingly, they're also dumped in the bag.

Next, she undoes the velcros on her red and black padded gloves, black wrist guards, as well as black elbow, knee, and shin pads. Also dumped into the other bag. With the outer protective wear removed, Maladroit pulls her hoodie over her head. Continuing on, she peels the padded rugby body armour and shorts off, and then the thermal under-armour. All dumped into the third and final plastic bag. “I swear,” Maladroit mumbles to herself, “getting changed out my gear never gets easier. And to think back when I had my last P.E. lesson at school, I thought I'd never have to touch this kinda kit ever again. Rip me.”

Lastly, Marinette—no longer Maladroit seeing as she is no longer in her vigilante gear—throws on her running-to-the-bathroom spare bathrobe to cover herself. She hastily shoves the three plastic bags into the duffel bag and kicks it under her bed. Purposefully leaving it unzipped but quickly fixing the blanket covering the bag, so that she can more easily grab her kit to clean everything later, whilst keeping it sufficiently hidden.

With that mostly taken care of, she nabs the mouthguard case, some clean pyjamas, and dashes out of her room—clinging awkwardly to the bathrobe. She hops in the apartment's shared bathroom, the rest of the place is silent, meaning her roomie, Jason, must have gone out. Still, Marinette locks the door regardless. If there's one thing she's learnt in her foray into the nightly masked vigilantism, is that one can never be too careful.

“Shit! Nearly forgot to take this out.” She grumbles to herself, just as she was stepping into the shower. Prying the mouthguard out of her mouth as she shuffles over to the sink, she gives it a quick rinse under the tap. Followed by a thorough scrubbing with her toothbrush and glob of toothpaste. She pops it into the mouthguard case and leaves it on the side of the sink for now.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Marinette finally allows herself to indulge in a good half an hour-long hot shower to get the grime from a night of crime-fighting off of herself.

She's only just drying off her hair, having already changed into her pyjamas, when the blare of the TV echoes through the apartment. Tensing up, her anxiety runs wild. It's what they get for living in the cheaper but slightly dodgy apartments where the walls are thin and the doors are thinner. Grabbing the mouthguard case, she wraps it up in the bathrobe and peeks out the bathroom door and looks down the hall into the open plan kitchen lounge. Jason's back, he's sitting on the sofa watching the TV.

Shoulders untensing, she finished drying her hair and heads out into the hallway. In place of a greeting, she exclaims, “oh! Jason, you're back!”

Jason flinches slightly and looks over his shoulder back at her. “Yeah, a friend had an emergency so, y'know.”

Immediately, concern wrenches at Marinette's heart, “oh no, I'm sorry. Are they… okay?”

He waves a hand in a so-so gesture and clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. They're fine now.”

“That's good!” She says, nodding, as she makes her way fully into the lounge and the TV catches her attention. “Oh is it nearly the eleven o'clock news already? I need to watch this! Alya texted me earlier saying I have to, and she sounded really excited!” Glancing down at the bundle in her arms and flushes red. “Actually, I'll be back in a second!”

“I'll yell as soon as it actually starts.” Jason offers, smiling warmly at her.

Marinette just misses the smile, rushing back to her room, and throwing a quick, “thanks,” over her shoulder back at him.

Also missing his smile turn fond and the good-natured roll of his eyes at her antics.

Barely half a minute passes before she's bounding back into the lounge, with a sleepy Tikki at her heels. She plops herself down on the sofa next to him and hopes the blush on her face could simply be mistaken for the flush of running about like a mad thing instead. Tikki whines until Marionette picks her up and lets her on the sofa with them, padding over to the furthest corner to curl up in.

Jason points to the pink floral steaming mug on the coffee table, right next to his Pride Prejudice and Zombies themed mug. “Whilst you were in the shower, I made us both hot chocolates with marshmallows, my granddad Alfie's recipe.”

“Oh!” Marinette responds in pleasant surprise. She turns to him and positively beams, eyes shining with happiness. “Thank you so much, Jason! You're always so thoughtful!”

He blushes and rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “Yeah, well, I thought it's only fair since you normally make 'em. And I visited Alfie recently, and I promised to get you his recipe to try, so I thought it'd be a nice surprise for once!” He pauses and points at the big bowl also on the coffee table, “also I cooked us some popcorn.”

“Aw! Thank you again! I really appreciate this!” She scoops up the hot chocolate with slight reverence and takes a sip. Immediately her face lights up even more in joy. “Oh, this is delicious!”

Jason chuckles, “isn't it the best! I'll pass that onto Alfie though, he'll be glad to know you like it so much. Speaking of which, he's gonna give making them a try next time I'm up since I wasn't there long enough this time. Would you fancy coming with me to see him, then?”

Her eyes widen and her heart stutters in her chest, feeling close to bursting from happiness. “I'd love to! Do you have a date when you're thinking of going up?”

He nods. “Yeah, maybe around—”

But he's interrupted by the starting audio of the eleven o'clock news.

They both immediately shut up and watch the screen intently as the news anchors appear on the show. The starting discussion is somewhat boring, talking about the local billionaire Wayne-or-something business and a related upcoming charity event of some sort.

Marinette doesn't pay attention to it, but she does catch Jason wrinkling his nose and scowling at the conversation.

Luckily, the topic shifts quickly enough. “And now, over to our newest reporter, Alya. We hear there's been some rumblings regarding the conflict between local vigilante Chat Noir, his sidekick Maladroit, and the gang controlled by the infamous Red Hood himself.”

“That's stupid,” Jason grumbles, “Maladroit is a fully-fledged vigilante in her own right and not just the catboy's sidekick. That's like saying Nightwing is Batman's sidekick!”

Marinette frowns, very touched by his words and trying her damnedest to appear nonchalant. “I don't know… from all the-uh news clips, Maladroit seems like Chat Noir's sidekick to me. She's always hovering nervously near him like a strong wind would spook her.��

“C'mon! She's been reported to have held her own against Red Hood on multiple occasions, alone!” He argues, sounding rather offended on her alter egos behalf.

Scoffing, she shakes her head. “Clearly that's because he's going easy on her! He's never directly shot her, according to the reports clearly, he's soft on her!” The lies taste bitter on her tongue.

Jason splutters and flushes bright red, turning away from her slightly. “W-well that's obviously a testament to her skill and not Red Hood's mercy! He's always reported as being a merciless killer, why'd he be soft on her!”

“I don't know!” She makes a dying-choking noise as she flushes even more red than earlier. Shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth to avoid having to respond any further.

Luckily, the news shows pans over to Alya standing in front of a screen showing a recorded feed of a warehouse. Not just any warehouse, but specifically the one on fourth that Maladroit had faced Red Hood in less than an hour ago.

Marinette feels her pulse quicken at the reminder of the close shave she'd had.

“Hey wait a second, those warehouses don't have security cameras at all? How'd they get this footage?” Jason complains, eyes narrowed at the TV.

It feels as though ice has been poured down her spine at his words. She freezes, body stiffening in shock. He's right… G said there's none because that's why he asked me to check things out. The only people who'd know this are Chat, Gamer, myself, and Red Hood and his gang. She swallows thickly and tries to subtly side-eye Jason. Oh no. I've been crushing on my roommate who works for Red Hood's gang? Oh god! The friend with the emergency was referring to Red Hood calling him into work!

She can't help but inhale a shallow panicked breath. He could've been one of the lackeys shooting at me and Chat this past week. Or, or I could've hurt him with my yo-yo. Or—

Jason turns to fully face, clearly registering the blatant panic on her face. “Hey, hey, hey, Marinette, you're okay, you're safe. What's wrong?”

“Are you working for Red Hood?” Marinette blurts out, accidentally, the words pouring out in an unintentional panicked rush. “Are you in his gang?”

He jerks back, fear, confusion, and hurt crosses his face. “Wh-what? What makes you think that?”

“His gang was just in that warehouse, and you were out on an emergency for a "friend". And how would you have known unless you were there tonight and working for his gang?” She chews her lip forcefully and winces as the taste of iron floods her mouth.

He reaches towards her, eyes widening concern.

She flinches back, suddenly reminded of how similar this is to that moment with Red Hood on the warehouse balcony.

Jason jerks back as if her flinching burnt him. Raising his hands, he leans away from her to give her some semblance of space. “Fuck. Look, I'm not going to hurt you! Have I ever hurt you whilst we've been roomies?”

Nervously, she shakes her head.

“I really care about you, Marinette. Hell, we've lived together for nearly a year now. I would never hurt you, okay! I promise.” Tears prick in his eyes, and he grimaces slightly, lowering his hands to rest on his lap. “Yeah, I uh, I'm working for him. But I do everything I can to keep work from following me home. I didn't tell you because I never wanted to scare you.”

Guilt gnaws at her. “I'm sorry! I shouldn't have judged. I—” She takes a shaky breath, “I really really care about you too. I'm just worried, what if Red Hood, or even Maladroit, or any of the other vigilantes hurt you? What if you get hurt in one of those gang wars?” Her words aren't lies but they're not the full truth either.

He sighs, “I can't promise I won't ever get hurt on the job. Maladroit and the other vigilantes do a lot of good but Maladroit especially is far too nice to hurt any of us. I've uh, seen her fight some of the others gang members, and been fought by her too. And out of everyone against the gang, she's the one who leaves us with barely more than a scratch at worst.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Most in the gang really respect her for that, y'know.”

Marinette's brain feels like the windows shutting down sound. “Oh. Oh.”

Sheepishly, he smiles half-heartedly at her. “Yeah.”

“So, is that why you were so adamant she's a fully-fledged vigilante in her right?” She asks, feeling bashful yet honoured whilst completely surprised.

Jason clears his throat and glances away. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh.” Her brain rewinds a moment. She splutters for a second, desperation racing through her. “Wait, she's fought you!?”

Full-on grimacing, he nervously laughs. “Left but a scratch!”

“Are you misquoting Monty Python right now? Oh good gods, that's the knight who says that after getting his limbs chopped off!” Marinette exclaims, looking every bit as horrified as her tone of voice conveys.

“Seriously, I've never gotten worse than a couple of minor cuts and bruises, I'm fine!” Jason reiterates.

She frowns and gingerly shuffles across the sofa closer to him. He keeps leaning back away, so she physically throws herself at him, pulling him into a tight hug. Incidentally burying her face in his shirt. “Okay, okay. Just, please let me know next time you get hurt. I've a friend who lived in a bad situation before, so I know how to help patch up minor injuries. Promise?”

Jason stiffens at the hug and slowly moves one hand to cup the back of her head whilst wrapping the other around her back. He shuts his eyes, cocking his head back and sighs. “Alright. I promise I'll tell you. And I'm sorry for keeping something this big from you. As I said, I was worried you'd be scared of me or that you'd get dragged into gang-related shit because of it.”

“You don't need to apologise.” Marinette mumbles in response, “I get it. I really do understand.” She bites at her sore bleeding lips again in guilt, her secret identity left unspoken on her tongue.

He shrugs, “so uh. I'm guessing you're still happy to stay roomies then, right?”

“Of course!” She responds without missing a beat hugging him even tighter.

Eventually, they release each other from the embrace to finish their now lukewarm hot chocolates and popcorn. The news continues playing, no longer forgotten in the background as the two try to act as if nothing has changed.

———

Jason collapses onto his bed with a heavy sigh. He pulls out his phone and rings a number on autopilot.

The dial tone plays as the line connects. “Hey, whaddup Jay?”

“Holy fucking shit balls, man.” Jason groans. “I fucked up.”

Roy hums, “like need help burying a body fucked up or what?”

Jason groans even louder, smushing his face into his bed covers. “My roomie is smart, right. I accidentally let a tiny detail slip when we were chatting whilst watching the eleven o'clock news as usual. And she now thinks that I'm in Red Hood's gang.”

There's a long pause, before Roy bursts into raucous laughter. “Holy shit, I'm dying! She's not wrong!”

“Yeah. I know. She ain't right either though.” He grumbles in response. “She was absolutely terrified when she realised. Nearly had a full-on panic attack and everything.”

“Oh fuck.” Roy helpfully says.

Jason grunts in agreement. “She was also real concerned that Red Hood or the vigilantes have hurt me.”

“Well, that's better?” Roy offers, sounding rather unsure of his own words.

“Yeah but she's taken thinking I'm some low-level member of my gang this badly, how the fuck d'ya think she's gonna take finding out I'm the big bad Red Hood himself?” Jason sighs. “I don't want to ask her out without her knowing this, 'cause it could endanger her.”

Roy hums again, “well, you've been roommates this long already and she's been completely safe from the Vigilante-Gang life so far.”

There's a gentle thump as Jason lifts his head and throws it into the sheets again out of sheer frustration. He relents, reluctantly. “That's true…”

“See. And since it sounds like she's not planning on moving out, clearly she doesn't mind living with you. Just ask her out to dinner already.” Roy adds, cheerfully.

Huffing, he rolls over on the bed. “I'm starting to feel like those weird girl slumber party ads with the creepy phone-a-boy games.”

Roy wheezes, followed by a thudding noise and the distant sound of his cackling.

“Wow. And to think I called you for help. I'm offended.” Jason goads with no bite, waiting a few seconds to hear Roy's response but it's just more laughter.

He rolls his eyes and ends the call, not like Roy will mind. Throwing an arm over his face, Jason barely refrains from grabbing his pillow to scream into. He doesn't, obviously. Because the walls are thin enough that Marinette might hear him and he's worried her enough this night as is.

Sighing like a lovesick protagonist in a period romance novel, Jason moves his arm to run his fingers through his own hair. A date. Just gotta ask her at some point, to dinner at a fancy-ish restaurant. It'll be fine, what's the worst that can happen?

Her terrified reaction on the sofa flashes through his mind, followed by the reminder of how small and scared Maladroit had seemed when she had fallen to her knees on the warehouse balcony. There was no way that she was faking the pain, like he'd initially thought. She had practically staggered in her mad dash to escape. And there's no way for me to find out whether she got to somewhere safe afterwards. God, she could be lying dead in some dank alleyway for all I know right now. Fuck, I hope she's okay...

He groans in distress and shifts in place. Already feeling like he really won't be getting any sleep at all tonight at this rate, thanks to his concern for those two.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are much appreciated! |

| I decided to go close to canon for names this time, hence why Chat Noir remains unchanged but Max is Gamer (because A. that was his Akuma name, and B. he's like Player from Carmen Sandiego in this, couldn't help myself), and Marinette is Maladroit (from the first thing she calls herself in Origins). |

| Oh, also whilst it's not explicitly stated in the text; Marinette/Maladroit's has the power of luck/being lucky, Chat Noir has the power of being unlucky, and Red Hood has "Perfect Aim" aka he's a hitscan. Which is why Maladroit is able to dodge his bullets by making herself "lucky enough" to dodge in time. |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

[miraculouswolf99]

Silver Siren

Happy New Year!!! This is not a New Years story, but it is a story that I am using New Years as an excuse to post it. LOL

*****

Luka Couffaine was often described as the most relaxed and chill guy that anyone could ever meet. Often seen with his guitar on hand, playing what he would call a person's heart song. He was also described as a protective older brother to his sister, Juleka. Especially when it came to her friends.

The only ones that Luka really knew were Rose, Ivan, and Mylene as they were the ones that came over the most often. This was the first time that the entire class was on the Liberty. And if Luka was being honest with himself, he was most intrigued by Marinette, Lyon, and Adrien.

While he had not met Adrien personally yet, the things he had heard from the class made him curious about the model. Marinette also seemed really sweet and the type of person that could brighten a room just by walking into it. And Lyon seemed similar to himself, calm and easily just as observant.

Lyon and his sister had seemed almost like him and Juleka. They liked to be off to the side and observe. They also spoke of animals and plants like they spoke of music, that it relates to everything and everyone. Luka was amazed by their heart songs. So full of life, harmony, and with a slight sense of mysteriousness.

But most of Luka's cool, calm, and collected personality was thrown out the window when his mother got akumatized into Captain Hardrock.

"A treasure in return for freedom," Anarka says. "Ho, ho, ho then I shall be your pirate Hawkmoth."

Black and purple smoke covers the ship.

"Oh no," Luka hears Marinette gasp.

Captain Hardrock rose up. Captain Hardrock has long red hair that is spiked upwards and golden eyes. The upper half of her face is covered with a black mark edged with dark red and she wears a black bandana with a white spiky-haired skull on the front, along with gold circular earrings.

She wears a bodysuit that is red from the collar to the chest and black from the chest, the color separation looking like flames. Her suit includes three yellow buttons vertically on her lower body, three golden spikes horizontally over each knee, and a golden patch above each hip. She has two black belts, one going around the body diagonally and the other wrapped around the waist, that have golden buckles. Over her suit, she wears a black captain jacket with golden inner lining, golden spikes on the shoulders, golden edges, and golden buckles on the sides. Black fingerless gloves with golden edges around the upper holes cover her arms up to her elbows. Her knee-high boots that end below the knees are black and red in a flame-like pattern with black soles, golden heels, black inner lining, and black stripes with golden spikes above the ankles.

"Raise the mainsail, me deck hands let's get swashbuckling around here," his akumatized mom orders.

"Mom," Juleka asks, shocked and scared.

"What's going on," Luka asked, concerned.

"Your mom has weighed anchor, me lad," the akuma says. "I'm Captain Hardrock and today Paris's timbers are about to be shivered by my cannons."

The captain looks through a telescope. Luka took that second to make a quick headcount. He realized that the Greek twins were not on board the Liberty anymore. Remembering that the two were close to the gangplank when all this started, he figured that they had most likely had gone and went to get help.

"Westward ho, Liberty next stop," she orders. "Jagged Stone at the Eiffel Tower. Soon, there will only be one concert in Paris only one Music Festival. We will destroy all the others. Now, get to your instruments and rock those decibels!"

"Mom please, you can't ruin the Music Festival," Luka calmly pleaded.

"You can't force people to listen to your music," Marinette tells the villain.

"No way we're playing like this," Ivan yells.

"Mutiny," Captain Hardrock sounded offended. "On my ship! Liberty, seize these scallywags and throw them down into the hold!"

Chains shot out from different places on the ship. But before any of the teens could react, arrows started flying over their heads and hit the chains. Every chain that an arrow hit instantly froze into ice. Then the next thing that they knew, another weapon flew past them and shattered all the ice chains.

Floating near the ship, above the water, was Beautifly with her shield-sized razor blade flower. And looking over, back on land, was White Wolf. His bow was still at the ready. Luka was amazed that the two got there so quickly and figured that it was because of Lyon and Vallia. He had seen the two newest heroes of Paris on the news and the Ladyblog, but this was the first time in person.

"If I was Cat Noir, I would probably make a very bad ice pun right about now," Wolf smirked. "But I'll stick to freezing things with my arrows."

"And I am happy you are," Beautifly giggles. "I mean, Cat is a great hero and all, but I am very close to slapping him over those cat puns."

"Creatures of the land and air are not welcome on my ship," Captain Hardrock shouts, pointing her sword at the butterfly girl.

"Do I look like I'm on your ship," Beautifly floated around. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not even touching the ground let alone your ship."

"Lock this fly in the brig, Liberty," Captain Hardrock ordered.

Chains, once again, shot out from different parts of the ship. They headed right for the butterfly hero. But unlike Ladybug, Cat Noir, and even her own partner White Wolf, Beautifly is able to fly. But that is obvious at this point. It did give her an advantage over most akumas. The way that she was currently flying around to avoid the chains was one very good example of these advantages.

"I'm a butterfly, thank you very much," Beautifly put her hands on her hips.

She made a quick dive back toward the water, flying barely a foot above it. The chains would hit the water instead as she gracefully dodged them. But she soon made a quick shot upwards as she got close to where her partner had been standing. That allowed him to fire a volley of arrows at the chains following her. Each one of them was soon frozen into ice. She quickly shattered them with her razor flower.

"Nice try, Jackie Sparrow," Wolf smirked.

Beautifly facepalmed. "What you lack in puns, you sure make up for in pop culture references."

"What can I say," Wolf shrugged. "I love American movies."

The kids still onboard the Liberty, meanwhile, seemed to finally get out of shock over the heroes showing up so quickly.

"We need to get off this ship," Alya quickly says.

"How," Ivan asked. "Do you want us to jump into the seine?"

"Would you rather be chained up on this ship," Alya countered.

"All ashore that's going to shore," Ivan headed right for the edge of the boat.

"Never thought I'd have to walk the plank of my own house," Juleka says, surprisingly still as calm as she was during the Horrificator incident.

"Why is everyone in the Couffaine family so shockingly calm," Marinette whispered to Alya.

"Your guess is as good as mine, girl," Alya whispered back. "But they can't all be that calm. Captain Crazy, over there, is one example."

"I am suddenly very grateful for my normal mother," Marinette says. "Yet, I am also intrigued by everyday life in the Couffaine household."

"I hope my crew isn't planning on jumping ship," they were caught in the act by the akuma.

"Shoot," Nino swore.

With a slash of her sword in the air, Captain Hardrock sent another round of chains toward them. Only this time, White Wolf was not fast enough with his bow. He tried, but people need to remember that nobody's perfect. The group of teenagers was soon all grabbed by the chains and pulled below deck.

"Oh, Hades," Beautifly swore. "Now we're going to need a rescue mission. Where are that cat and bug?"

"Don't ask me," Wolf said, freezing another chain.

Meanwhile, Adrien had been in his room. He was watching the news broadcast about the music festival. His father had not allowed him to go to the Liberty and play the keyboard for Kitty Section. He was pretty salty about that. (AN: An ocean pun inspired by Captain Hardrock. hehe.)

"Breaking News," Nadja Chamack interrupted the fun stuff.

"Huh," Adrien knew what this most likely meant.

"Another akuma attack is in progress along the seine," Nadja reported. "This akuma's goal seems to be to take over the music festival with its rock music by taking out all the other musical acts in the city."

"Some people just don't appreciate good music when they hear it," Plagg says, munching on some of his cheese.

"Plagg, claws out," Adrien did not have time for his sarcasm since he knew his friends were at the same river.

His friends may not currently be in much danger, but they were being held prisoner.

While the room wasn't really a brig, but the teens were still trapped in it. Ivan and Mylene were chained together, as were Nino and Alya. Rose and Juleka were both alone in their chains while Luka and Marinette were also chained together.

"You don't seem very worried, Marinette," Luka noticed.

"I am, but this isn't really my first time being held captive by an akuma," Marinette says. "Even if the Evillustrator considered that situation a date."

"Alright," Luka accepted that.

"Alya, remind to apologize to Nathaniel later for bringing that up," Marinette said.

"Girl, I am pretty sure that he wouldn't mind," Alya says. "Nath is almost as forgiving as you. And that says something considering that you could forgive anyone for anything."

"Not anything," Marinette protested. "If anyone insults my parent's bakery, I'll open up a can of butt-kick of fighting techniques that my mother taught me."

The way that she said that so sweetly was enough to send shivers down most of their spines.

Marinette then looked down. She saw Tikki waving at her, having come out of her purse to silently aid her. The kwami phased into the lock on her and Luka's chain, taking a little bit before the lock opened with a quiet SNAP.

"Wow, how'd you do that," Luka asked her.

"Uhh, I, Uhm..." Marinette had to think fast. "With this."

She holds up a guitar pick.

"You're amazing," Luka praised her. "A real magician, Marinette."

"You think so," Marinette asks, going all nervous like how she does around Adrien. "Oh, it was nothing, uh, amazing, really?"

"Excuse me, but some of us are still chained up here you know," Alya says, rolling her eyes.

Before either of the freed teens could do anything, they heard Captain Hardrock walk downstairs and laughing.

"Marinette, she's coming," Nino warned them.

"We'll come back, I promise," Marinette says as she and Luka leave the room quickly.

The two ended up locking themselves in Luka's own bedroom. They had to work quickly as Captain Hardrock soon broke in.

"Run, Marinette quick," Luka yelled out the window.

"Seize him," Captain Hardrock some more chains to catch her son.

It all happened faster than Luka could blink. Chains shot through the open door in order to trap him again. But at the same time, a trio of arrows flew through the open window/porthole and froze all of the incoming chains.

Luka turned around and saw that White Wolf was hanging from an icy-looking rope outside the window.

"My outfit is bright white, how do people miss me," he joked.

"Uh..." Luka had no idea how to respond to that.

"Whatever," Wolf shrugged. "Move that fine-looking butt, handsome, you're getting off this Black Pearl wannabe."

Luka blushed, even if he hid it very well. He didn't have much time to really try and think of anything as his mother was currently breaking through the frozen chains on her way to capture him again.

Taking White Wolf's hand, he was just barely able to get through the porthole.

"Time to leave," Beautifly tells them, seen fighting more chains with the newly arrived Cat Noir.

Luka had to immediately tighten his grip around White Wolf's waist as the icy hero fired another ice rope arrow. The two swung away on the rope, landing on the shore of the seine.

"My sister and friends are still in there," Luka immediately tells him.

"I know," Wolf says. "We will try to get as many of them off of the boat as possible. But we might need to also rely on Ladybug's Miraculous Cure if we can not."

"I understand," Luka said.

"Stay safe, Mr.Couffaine," Wolf tells him, running back into the battle.

Luka couldn't help but get lost as he caught a glimpse of the hero's beautiful eyes.

"Flirt later, Wolf," Beautifly calls.

"Yeah, that's my job," Cat Noir jokes. "OW!"

Beautifly had hit him on the back of the head.

"Sorry, I'm late," Ladybug apologizes, swinging into the fray.

"All heroes are allowed to be late every once in a while," Beautifly stated, blocking a chain with her razor flower. "May I remind you of Cat Noir's late arrival to the fight with Riposte."

"He also told me you were quite late during an akuma attack by someone called the Evilistrator," Wolf said. "That name, by the way, is horrid."

Captain Hardrock, unfortunately, then made her reappearance on deck. She was already angry over her son escaping the Liberty and seeing the four heroes together did not help her mood. She raised her sword.

"Capture those pests, Liberty," she ordered.

The heroes started flipping, jumping, and flying in Beautifly's case to avoid the flying chains. White Wolf aimed another of his arrows at the chain, but Captain Hardrock was having it this time.

"Liberty, fire," she ordered her ship.

One of the cannons aimed at the icy teen. But instead of a cannonball coming out, the cannon fired a soundwave of rock music. It was almost like the soundwave effect that Black Canary causes with her canary cry. It washed over the Greek hero.

White Wolf covered his wolf ears on the top of his head, yelling in pain. The sound was loud and horrible, actually causing pain with his enhanced wolf hearing. When Captain Hardrock sent more of her chains his way, Ladybug quickly threw her yo-yo around his waist and pulled him away from them and the sound blast.

"Leave it to me to face an akuma with sound powers when I have enhanced hearing," he shook his head like he had swimmer's ear.

"Just be happy that you and Beautifly weren't here when we were fighting Guitar Villain," Ladybug said.

"There was seriously a villain with that as a name," Wolf raised an eyebrow. "Does Hawkmoth have no creativity at all?"

"That remains to be seen," Cat Noir comments. "His villain names range from weird, to good, to not very original at all."

"Jagged Stone ahead, Liberty fire," Captain Hardrock ordered.

The ship fired its sound cannons again, only this time entire speakers were shot out. The speakers landed and attached themselves all around Jagged Stone's music area at the Itfil Tower. The music was so loud that it caused cracks to spider all around where the speakers landed.

"Where's a pair of earplugs when you need them," Beautifly remarked.

"Are you the one with sensitive ears, I don't think so," Wolf commented. "My ears are still ringing from that earlier blast."

"What do you think her akumatized object is," Beautifly asked.

"It has to be something on the ship, otherwise she wouldn't be able to control it the way she does," Ladybug theorizes.

"I could Cataclysm the entire ship," Cat Noir offered, raising the hand that he uses to destroy things.

"No," Ladybug instantly shut that idea down.

"There are hostages on the ship, Cat," Wolf informs the hero. "If you sink the ship, they might drown."

"Myself and White Wolf only managed to get one of them off the ship before you two showed up," Beautifly says. "The rest of them are still trapped somewhere on there."

"I think he is Anarka Couffaine's son Luka," Wolf said. "He might know why was hit by the akuma. I'll ask him."

"Fire at XY," Captain Hardrock commanded, the Liberty shooting more of its speakers at the Justin Beiber wannabe.

"Well, do it fast," Ladybug told him, then swung away toward the ship.

"She knows that we're not her sidekicks and she doesn't have to order us around like that, right," Wolf crossed his arms.

"We can tell her off later, let's go, Cat," Beautifly ordered, flying toward the ship.

"We are around some seriously bossy ladies," Cat Noir commented, before using his staff to get to the ship himself.

"I am surrounded by weirdos," Wolf shook his head.

He took his bow in hand, notching another arrow. He aimed it to freeze one of the cannons closed when the akuma saw what he was doing.

"Fire," she ordered.

Another sound blast came right at him. He covered his wolf ears as the sound really hurt with his magical hearing. His bow and arrow fell to the ground. He could hardly tell when another person ran up and picked up his bow. Said person aimed it at the cannon, fighting the headache that the sound was causing. The arrow froze the shooting cannon, stopping the sound.

"I never liked rock music before, and I am most certainly not going to start now," Wolf says, getting up.

"Are you okay," asked the person that fired the arrow.

White Wolf looked and saw that it was Luka that had picked up his bow.

"I'm good now, Mr.Couffaine," Wolf says. "Thanks for the assistance."

"You can call me Luka, White Wolf," Luka tells him.

"Alright, then, Luka," nobody can say that superheroes aren't great actors. "It was very brave of you to use my bow. Very telling as well."

"Telling," Luka was confused.

"Most civilians would be afraid of turning to ice by touching one of my arrows," Wolf explains. "It shows that in maybe another life, you would have made an excellent fit for the wolf miraculous."

"Wow," Luka was still as cool as they come.

"Anyway, did you see what object the akuma landed on," Wolf asked the blue and black-haired boy. "Destroying it is the only way for Ladybug to de-evilize your mom."

"I didn't see exactly, but it is most likely her compass," Luka says. "She has always said that a compass is a sailor's most prized possession."

As someone that grew up near the water, White Wolf actually understood that. He wondered how much easier Odysseus would have gotten home if he had just used a map and compass instead of the stars and a lot of faith. As much as he believed in the gods, common sense is also a thing to believe in.

White Wolf noticed the ice on the cannon starting to crack. He quickly scooped Luka into his arms and ran away just in time as the ice shattered and the sound blast started up again. The two barely got away in time. The sound waves just missed them. White Wolf put Luka down a little way more away from the akumatized ship.

"Stay here, Luka," Wolf directed.

"I have to help," Luka tells the hero. "White Wolf, there has to be a way for me to help."

White Wolf looked at the blue-haired teen. He had shown great bravery when he picked up his bow. Not many people, let alone teenagers, would do such a thing. An image of a silver box flashed into his head, giving him an idea.

"Wait right here, Luka," Wolf instructed. "If any of the others ask, tell them that I went to get help. Beautifly will understand what I mean."

Luka nodded as White Wolf got out his bow again. Using an icy rope, the Greek hero swung away from the Seine. He had no idea what the wolf hero was up to.

The holder of the wolf miraculous landed in an alley on the other side of the street from a beautiful jungle-like flower/garden shop. He de-transformed and out of the alley walked Lyon Garden. The dubbed Ice Prince made his way to the flower shop, greeting his father on the way in. He quickly made his way up to his room, which from what his sister, Vallia, had told him was almost like Marinette's bedroom but made for him instead of her.

Lyon went over to the bookshelf he keeps in his room. He pulled back the one book on the shelf that did not have a title on the spine. In a bit of a cliche turn of events, the bookshelf slid tp the side to reveal a hidden compartment. From the compartment, he pulled out a secure but elegant silver box. It was in the shape of a large jewelry box with bright blue markings that looked like a cross between ice and vines. Silver roses also were dotted around the box.

Lyon opened the box lid, revealing several other pieces of jewelry inside of it. On a raised area of the box was a place for hour pieces of jewelry. The ones marked for the wolf and butterfly miraculous were empty. But there was a bluebird necklace in the space for the miraculous of the songbird and a stag brooch in the place for the stag miraculous. The other miraculouses at the top of the box were around the raised area. A deer head pendant for the deer miraculous, a black snake armband for the python miraculous, a black panther pendant for the panther miraculous, a brown bear cuff bracelet for the grizzly bear miraculous, a feather hair clip for the falcon miraculous, and a white bird hair comb for the dove miraculous.

"I know the perfect choice for this akuma," Lyon talks to himself.

He picked up a necklace before quickly sealing the box back in its hiding place and leaving.

Back at the battle with Captain Hardrock, the remaining trio was having a bit of trouble with fighting off the chains as well as trying to search for her akumatized object.

"I have never seen Pirates of the Caribbean, and this is not making me want to," Cat Noir comments, jumping out of the way of more chains.

"There is a reason why pirates have never been very recorded in Greek history," Beautifly says. "Because there weren't any."

"Seriously," Ladybug raised her eyebrow at that.

"I'm pretty sure," Beautifly shrugs. "I'm a butterfly hero, you really think I know much about pirates at all?"

"I agree with her, only replace butterfly with black cat for me," Cat Noir says. "Cats and water do not mix, in any form."

There was a reason why being surrounded by frost and ice weakened him so much when Lady Wifi locked him in that freezer. Cats and water have never mixed.

"Heads up," Beautifly warned, darting around in the sky to avoid the chains coming her way.

"Fire at Nightingale," Captain Hardrock commanded.

The Liberty shot out more speakers at the energetic pop star.

"Beautifly, where is White Wolf," Ladybug practically demanded.

"I don't know, but I do have a pretty good idea," Beautifly tells her.

"He just abandoned us in the middle of a fight," Ladybug snapped, using her yo-yo to fight off chains.

"Need I remind you that we are not your sidekicks," Beautifly snapped back, blocking chains with her razor flower. "We don't have to inform you of everything we do. I trust that White Wolf has a plan. I do not immediately go for such negative thoughts."

"If he has a plan, he should have told us," Ladybug did not back down. "Maybe he would have if he didn't stop with those ridiculous pop culture references every other sentence."

"Not all heroes have to be stern and serious to be good heroes, Bug," Beautifly did not take any crap if someone insults her brother. "Have you ever seen videos of the Flash? He never seems all that serious, but succeeds every time in his fights."

"I've seen news of his battles, and Beautifly does have a point," Cat Noir said.

But before the other female hero could try to find a comeback, one of the chains managed to hook itself to Cat Noir's left wrist.

"Oh crud," Beautifly swore.

Cat Noir was pulled up to the crow's nest and his hands were pulled to either side of him as he was chained down by his wrists.

"Cataclysm," Cat Noir shouted.

His right hand bubbled with black energy, signaling his power of destruction. With a twist of his hand, he was able to free himself from the chain holding him to the crow's nest.

"Great, because you had to act all high and mighty with trying to boss us all around, Cat Noir now only had five minutes," Beautifly snaps at the red and black hero.

"He should have been paying more attention to what was going on around him," Ladybug countered. "He was probably too busy trying to think up another joke or another lame pick-up line to focus on the fight."

"Or maybe you distracted him by treating us all like sidekicks," Beautifly did not back down.

"These two fight more than most would think me and White Wolf would," Cat Noir thinks. "The whole cats and dogs hate each other stereotype and all that."

That was when the icy hero finally made it back to the fight. He landed not too far from where Luka was trying to keep up with the ship.

"Are those two seriously at it again," he asked the teen in blue.

"It is quite ironic," Luka says. "But their music has no way to harmonize. It is too different and can barely even be in the same song."

"It's funny that you mention harmonizing," Wolf smirked.

"Pardon," Luka faced the hero.

White Wolf pulled out a small silver box from under his cloak. It was like a mini version of the Miracle Box in his room, only square-shaped.

"Luka Couffaine, this is the miraculous of the songbird, symbolized by the gift of heart," Wolf held the box out to him. "You will use it for good in this time of need. After the battle is finished, I shall return to retrieve it should you choose to accept it."

"I...I do," Luka was actually showing shock. "I accept the miraculous, White Wolf."

Luka opened the box, and a ball of light came out. It soon turned into a kwami, but this one was a cute bluebird one.

"Geia, young holder," the kwami greeted. "My name if Meloetta and I am your kwami."

"My kwami," Luka was confused.

"Kwami's are what give me and the other heroes our powers," Wolf explained. "They are also generally good friends and guides of sorts for us."

"Wow," Luka says.

He took the necklace out of the box, putting it around his neck. The color blended quite well into his natural style choice as well as the fact that he was a musician wearing a songbird around his neck. Part of him wanted to ask the wolf hero if that was part of why he had chosen this particular miraculous for him. But he shrugged it off as a coincidence.

"All you have to say is 'Meloetta, let's rock,' and you will transform," the kwami explained. "To de-transform, you say 'concert's over.' Your special power is activated by saying 'Harmonize."

Luka nodded at the kwami.

"You ready to be a hero," Wolf asked.

"I'd do anything for my friends and family," Luka says. "Meloetta, let's rock."

"At least my weapon isn't a children's toy," Beautifly shot at Ladybug.

"Yours is nothing more than an oversized daisy," Ladybug countered.

The two of them were back-to-back fighting off the chains while constantly trading insults back and forth. It also seemed that because of the two's constant fighting with each other, Captain Hardrock had basically forgotten about Cat Noir altogether. He was just watching from the crow's nest and also scanning the ship with his eyes to see where the akumatized object could be.

White Wolf soon landed next to him.

"And Ladybug calls the two of us annoying," he raised his eyebrow at the cat hero.

"I don't even pretend to know anything about girls," Cat Noir put his hands up in defeat.

"Good, because I know a few girls back home that would skin you alive if you tried to ever say that you were a girl expert," Wolf chuckled.

"Even with that little bit of information now permanently etched into my brain, I still would want to visit Greece someday," Cat Noir snickers.

"Not like we'd ever deny the help against the myth spirits," Wolf commented.

"So, was Beautifly right when she guessed that you were getting help," Cat Noir asked.

"When is she ever wrong," Wolf smirked.

Another flying hero then came out of nowhere, even if White Wolf did know where he came from. Moving so fast that he was basically a blur, he used his weapon to slice his way through all the chains until there were none left.

"What in the world," Ladybug was shocked.

"I should have known that Wolf was going to chose that miraculous," Beautifly grinned.

"What," Ladybug gasped.

The new hero finally stopped, and everyone was able to get a good look at him. He was in a silver jean vest with matching jeans. He was now also had a turquoise t-shirt with darker silver boots. On his hands were turquoise fingerless gloves. His hair was the same black with blue streaks. And to the shock of Ladybug and Cat Noir, he also had angel-like bird wings that were also silver. The bluebird necklace was still around his neck, matching the bird's eye-like mask over his eyes.

In his hand was an ax-like weapon that also resembled a hybrid of a guitar and a lyre.

"Hope I am not late to the party," the new hero comments.

"You're right on time," Wolf smirks.

"Who are you," Ladybug did not like another miraculous being out and about, as when she recruited Alya to be Rena Rouge was risky enough.

"You can call me... Silver Siren," the newly named hero smiled softly.

"Finally, another hero with wings," Beautifly giggles. "I was getting lonely up in the air all by myself."

"Happy to be of assistance to you, Beautifly," Silver Siren smiles at her.

"Guys, we may need to speed this up," Cat Noir shows his ring as it blinked to show he had three minutes left.

"Gottcha," Beautifly gives him a thumbs up.

"Luka said that the akuma is most likely in the compass," Wolf says.

"Once you freeze it, Beautifly and I can destroy it," Cat Noir said.

For once, Ladybug had to play catch-up as the other four heroes went back to battle Captian Hardrock. The akuma did not look happy that another hero had joined the fight.

"Another pest in the sky," she snarled. "Get them, Liberty."

Chains shot at the team from all angles.

"Nature's Heart," Beautifly called upon her power, throwing her flower up.

The gem on her razor flower released a blossom that came down with the weapon.

"Amaryllis," Wolf immediately figured out. "I always thought that was a beautiful flower."

"I know exactly what this flower does," Beautifly said.

Holding up the flower, it released a number of petal missiles. Each petal exploded on contact with the chains, destroying them. The move almost looked like a combo of the draco meteor and pin missile moves from Pokemon.

"My chains too easy for you," Captain Hardrock yelled. "Then I think it is time for you land-loving pests to face the music."

"Land-loving," Cat Noir raised an eyebrow. "She does know that two of us don't even touch the ground, right?"

"Akumas, big on destruction and not so much on logic," Beautifly says.

The ship rumbled as its sound cannons aimed at the five of them. White Wolf, in particular, did not want to have to hear that loud music again.

"Hit it, Silver Siren," he called out to the new hero.

"I'm on it," he responded. "Harmonize."

He strung his guitar ax, blue energy flowing from the strings to his throat. His eyes glowed as he started to open his mouth.

"Cover your ears," Wolf warned everyone.

Just as the heroes covered their ears, Silver Siren let out a loud scream as the akumatized ship sent out its own sonic blasts. Silver Sirens scream came out as powerful sonic waves similar to the Black Canary's canary cry. Only his seemed slightly more powerful and the sound waves were a bright blue color.

The two sound attacks met in the air, a loud BOOM resulting from the collision. It blew their hair and loose pieces of clothing back a little at the wind blast that also resulted from the collision.

White Wolf and Beautifly uncovered their ears as both sides died down their attacks. They had to move quickly.

"Winter's Touch," Wolf quickly called.

His hands started to pour out an icy mist with a slight blueish color to it. The wolf hero then jumped to where he was sure that the compass was on the ship.

"Stay away from my compass," Captain Hardrock yelled.

But with one touch, the piece of equipment was frozen into ice. With a quick jump back, he let Beautifly throw her razor flower at the compass. The weapon smashed right through the frozen compass as easily as it would be to shatter glass.

"Gotta love this thing," Beautifly smiles at her weapon.

A black butterfly soon flapped its way out of the rubble. That was when Ladybug stepped forward.

"No more evil-doing for you, little akuma," she said, opening her yo-yo. "Time to de-evilize."

She caught the corrupted insect.

"Bye, bye, little butterfly," Ladybug released the now white insect.

"That thing is definitely a moth," Beautifly comments.

Cat Noir snickered at the comment while White Wolf simply rolls his eyes playfully. Silver Siren smiled but Ladybug looked annoyed.

"She does seem like the perfect person to know a butterfly from a moth," Cat Noir joined in Beautifly's fun.

"You two give me headaches," Wolf said.

"You know you love us," Cat Noir winks in a flirty way.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Wolf waved him off, making him and Beautifly snicker. "You did great out there, Silver Siren."

"You think so," the new hero asks. "I was a bit worried about using my power against those cannons."

"If I didn't think you could help, I wouldn't have given you the miraculous," Wolf smiles at him.

All of the heroes but Ladybug all started to beep as their miraculouses flashed. Cat Noir had a minute left as his ring lost another piece of the paw. One of the wings on Beautifly's bracelet went black. A feather on Silver Siren's bird necklace went from blue to white. One of the wolf's teeth on White Wolf's medallion went black.

"You can handle the clean-up, Bug," Beautifly says. "We all have to go. Secret identities and all that jazz."

"No one likes smooth jazz, Fly," Wolf said, but then all of them separated.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner One Shot: You Can’t Kid a Kiddo

Intro: It’s April Fools’ Day…and Tony is out to play. Avengers, beware!

Warnings: Bad language, very mild smut...no one gets naked.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark 

A/N:This is written for @wkemeup​ ‘s  4K Writing Challenge. My prompt was dialogue- “I take zero responsibility for this…”

This takes place in the Stark Spangled Banner timeline in April 2015 just before the events of AOU. Steve and my OFC (Katie Stark- Tony’s sister) have been together for 2 years ish and are engaged at this point as well. There’s also another Easter Egg in here for me to set up another One Shot I’m working on...

You don’t have to have read SSB to understand or enjoy this but feel free to check them out if you so wish. Stark Spangled Banner, and the prequel Stark Spangled Man can both be found here on my Masterlist.

Please re-blog and send me comments/thoughts. That’s my jam!

Steve’s hands were hot on Katie’s hips, gently gripping her bare skin just above her underwear, the top she was wearing riding up slightly. Her bare thighs were straddling his as he gripped her neck, pulling her down for a searing kiss, grinding up against her, the TV programme was long forgotten.

“You know…” he said, pulling back slightly to look at her, one of his hands tangling in the hem of the plaid button down she’d stolen from him to sleep in, as usual “Captain America doesn’t approve of theft.” “Captain America is an ass hole.” she grinned back “Stevie is my favourite.”

He gave a chuckle and leaned back against the sofa cushions, looking at her for a second “How did I get so lucky?” he asked, reaching up to tuck her long hair behind her ears. She smiled at him, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“What’s brought this on?” she asked, her hands sliding up his chest, resting on his shoulders, fingers gently playing with the collar of his polo shirt.

“Nothing.” he said, “Just seeing you before, today, with that reporter, just reminded me about how fierce...” he pressed a kiss to her lips “and loyal…” another kiss “and downright sexy you are when you’re angry…”

“He was a dick.” she mumbled, against his lips, her eyes narrowing slightly as she pulled back to look at him, his fingers gently tracing the outside of her thighs “I mean, it’s not like we haven’t already launched the publicity campaign already…”

“Well it’s big news.” he smiled up at her.

“Of course it will, it’s Harlan Thrombey…” she shrugged “His books are huge!”

“Did you ever get to the bottom of why he’s reached out to SIP to run the next one when he has his own publishing company?” “Oh something to do with his Son annoying him and needing to be taught not to take things for granted.” Katie shrugged “I can ask him that in October when we meet him to go over the final edit and discuss the covers and stuff… but that’s by the by. That ass-hat reporter should have been at the press launch like everyone else, not trying to accost us when we went out for lunch. And what the fuck has whether we’ve set a wedding date got to do with it anyway? Nosey bastard.”

Steve chuckled at her rant and looked at her, his eyes shining. “We haven’t set one though.”

“Yeah well, we’ve kinda had a bit going on.” she said, “Maybe once all this business with the sceptre is sorted we can think about it.” Steve sighed “I know, it’s taking a little longer than we hoped.”

“Well it’s only the end of March.” she shrugged “I’ve always wanted a summer wedding so it’s not…”

She trailed off and Steve saw her eyes widen and her mouth dropped open as she looked at him. “Oh shit…”

“Kitten, what is it?” he frowned.

“It’s the 31st March…” she looked at him, swallowing. Steve felt the colour draining from his face "Crap." The reason for their horror was simple. Because, forget Christmas or Thanksgiving, April Fools’ Day was Tony Stark's favourite time of year, as his long suffering sister could testify. When she was a kid, Tony had done the usual stuff. Flour in her talc, washing up liquid in her shampoo, paper shapes of bugs (never spiders though, he wasn't that cruel) in lampshades so when she turned the lights on she'd think she had a huge cockroach in there, that type of stuff. But, as she matured so did the pranks. At one time whilst she had been at the tower for a meeting JARVIS sent her an alert that someone had slashed her tyres in the carpark. She had sprinted outside to see photos of Slash from Guns and Roses struck to the side of her tyres. Another year Tony had hacked her StarkPhone and Laptop and changed the language to Chinese. Of course she couldn't read fucking Chinese to change it back. When she found an agent in SHIELD who did and he reversed it for her, within 30 seconds it had flicked over to Russian. And when she fixed that it became Swedish and so on and so on... Steve had also been the butt of a few pranks since he had known Tony. In 2013 he had fallen for the old toothpaste Oreo trick when a box had arrived for him allegedly from the cookie company themselves after Steve had been papped eating a packet. That had nearly made him sick. And then last year there had been the none stop phone calls asking for Franklin. Every time it was someone different and Steve was getting more and more frustrated as to who exactly Franklin was and why people thought he was on his number. Then, as he and Katie had been on the sofa making out, he'd gotten one last call…

"Leave it..." she said, her hands in his face turning her back to look at him. He kissed her again, hands sliding up the side of her torso, grinding his crotch down onto hers making her purr with delight as her hands strayed to the buckle of his belt, soft fingers gently skimming his abs as she made to undo it, his tongue tangling ferociously with hers as he gave a soft moan of pleasure... But his phone was going again. Katie sighed as he dropped his head to her chest, mumbling a curse. "Unless that’s a Code Red, you can tell whoever it is to fuck off." she said with a frustrated growl, her head flopping back against the cushion as he reached over and answered it, still led over her. "Rogers..." he said sharply. It was another unknown number, but not an unknown voice. "Hi this is Frankin!" Tony greeted him Steve let out a growl of frustration as he realised he had been had. "Have there been..." pause as the inventor laughed "I'm sorry, have there been any calls for me?" "Tony I swear to god!" he spat through gritted teeth as the inventor cackled and hung up. "Your brother is a dick." he looked down at Katie, shaking his head. "Well yeah, I know that…" Katie looked up at her boyfriend "What did he just do?" "Those calls I’ve been getting all day. Asking for Franklin?" He looked at her and she nodded "it was him."

She paused and then let out a laugh “Ok, to be fair, that’s a pretty good one…” “I hate him.” he mumbled, dropping his head back to her chest.

She chuckled again, and ran her fingers through his hair. “Hey, Stevie…wanna get him back?" “How?” Steve queried, propping himself up on his elbows, looking at her.. “Call him...” she grinned, leaning up and nipping at his jaw line softly as he closed his eyes “Leave the phone on the table...” she bucked up under him, wriggling her hips, his trousers feeling uncomfortably tight  again “and let him listen to us make out”

Steve hadn’t done that, because, well frankly the thought of anyone listening to them wasn’t a great turn on in his books so Tony had gone another year of getting away with it.

Simply put, Tony was king of the pranks, and this year he had the entire team at the tower to torment. 

“We should warn the others…” Steve looked at her, and with a sigh she nodded. She untangled herself from him and straightened the legs on her denim shorts.

“JARVIS?” she asked.

“Yes Miss Stark…” “Where are the rest of the team?”

“Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton are in the Common Room.” he spoke “Thor is in his quarters as is Mr Stark and Dr Banner is in the Lab…”

“I’ll text Nat, Clint and Banner.” she said, nodding “Can you go see Thor…he doesn’t have a phone and I’m not asking JARVIS to do it in case Tony catches on…” Steve nodded “Yeah, I’ll pop down and see him now.” Giving her a quick kiss he straightened his pants slightly and headed towards the hidden elevator, selecting the right floor. Thor and Clint shared one of the highest floors in the tower, both preferring to be higher up, closer to the roof but it was still below their’s. Exiting the elevator, he turned left and knocked on the door.

“Captain?” Thor answered and stepped back. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” “It’s not strictly pleasure I’m afraid Thor…” Steve sighed “I’m hear with a warning.” “A warning?” he frowned.

“Yeah, you got five minutes? It’s gonna take some explanation.”

***** Tony was giggling to himself as he put the final touches to the last of his pranks, before closing the door to the Lab and heading back to his floor. None of the team were up yet, it was ridiculously early, but the early bird catches the worm and all that. Fuck Killian and his second mouse bullshit. He had been toying with setting it all up the previous evening but he didn’t trust Kiddo and Spangles not to do some kind of recon mission before they went to bed. 

“What have you been doing?” Pepper mumbled to him as he walked back into their dark bedroom.

“Nothing…” he said, with a grin, leaning down to give her a peck.

“Bullshit.” Pepper mumbled against his lips. “It’s April Fools Day…” “Is it?” he said, innocently and she rolled her eyes “JARVIS?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Hey buddy, I need you to set up an alert for me for today. If anyone goes into my office, or the garage, or anywhere in the tower messing with my equipment I wanna know about it.”

“Of course Sir.”

Tony grinned as he headed into the bathroom for a shower. “Game on, Avengers...” 

Prank 1.

Steve was the first victim. He and Katie were making their way, cautiously, down to the large meeting room where they were all due to congregate to look over the plans of an abandoned British prison they suspected of being a Hydra base. They made sure to check round each corner before they walked round it, checking up high, low, everywhere.

But there was no avoiding this prank.

Steve pressed his palm to the Biometric Pad on the meeting room door and the pair of them gave a loud yell and a jump as their ears were assaulted by a sudden chorus.

“Who's strong and brave here to save the American Way? Who vows to fight like a man for what's right, night and day?”

“Oh for fucks sake…” Steve groaned as he pulled open the door, the song echoing through the PA system.

“Who will campaign door to door for America? Carry the flag shore to shore for America? From Hoboken to Spokane? The Star Spangled Man with a plan!”

Clint and Natasha were stood, poised at the table, both wearing identical looks of astonishment on their faces. They turned to Katie and Steve as they walked into the room, the song still playing.

“We can't ignore there's a threat and a war we must win! Who'll hang a noose on the goose-stepping goons from Berlin?”

“I’m assuming this means Cap is the first of us to fall victim to Stark?” Clint asked, his lips quirking into a smile.

“Who will indeed lead the call for America? Who'll rise or fall, give his all, for America?”

“Please tell me it isn’t going to go through a full rendition…” Steve sighed, dropping into a chair.

“Who's here to prove that we can? The Star Spangled Man with a plan!”

Silence. The 4 of them waited with bated breath, but thankfully it had stopped.

“Just the first two verses…” Katie said, sitting next to him. “Suppose we should be grateful.” “Kiddo, you’re as much of a sneak as Tony…” Clint looked at her, as Thor walked into the room. “How come you’ve never managed to get him back?”

“He’s too smart.” she sighed, “I’ve tried and tried before. It doesn’t help that he has JARVIS either, watch this…JARVIS?”

“Yes Miss Stark?”

“Has my brother got an alert going for you to warn him if we try and prank him?” “I couldn’t possibly comment Miss Stark, on whether or not your brother has an alert set up to warn him if you attempt to tamper with any of his equipment…”

Normally she would chuckle at the AIs tone but she was too frustrated with her brother and the seeming lack of loopholes in any of his instructions she could exploit. She leaned back in her chair and gave a huff “See?”

“I could just shock him with some lightning?” Thor suggested

“Think that’s a little harsh.” Steve sighed. 

“See if you still think that by the end of the day when every time you open a door that song starts.” Natasha looked at him.

“What, you think…” Steve looked at her and then gave a groan. “It’s not just gonna be the one door is it?”

_____

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Of course it isn’t just one door…” _______

Prank 2.

Bruce was sincerely hoping that whatever inevitable prank Tony was going to pull on him that the Billionaire had been sensible enough not to shock him so far that the Hulk erupted. Bruce had a pretty good hold on him, so he wasn’t too worried but still, you never know.

He made it to his lab in one piece, opened the door and stopped dead.

In front of him on the floor, for about 2 metres square were cups of water. And they were positioned hat close together that there was no space for him to step over in any direction without them spilling all over the floor. Which meant he couldn’t get into the room. Had it been anyone else, they would probably have simply kicked them over, but not Bruce. He was always paranoid about the liquid seeping through the floors and down onto the machinery which looked after the Iron Legion. 

So if he was going to get into the lab, he was going to have to move them one cup at a time. 

“Damned you Tony!” he said with a loud, exasperated sigh “JARVIS? I need a bucket…”

_______

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Good luck finding one Brucey…”

_______

Prank 3.

“I don’t think there’s much else to go on…” Steve sighed as the rest of the team finished looking over the plans “We need to get out there and do a recon really.“

“We prepping for another mission then, Cap?” Clint looked at him. Steve took a deep breath and nodded.

“I don’t think we have an alternative.” 

“Ok, well, if we get everything ready we can go at first light tomorrow.” Natasha suggested “I’ll get onto the British Authorities, let them know we’re planning on coming.” “Get Hill onto it” Katie suggested “She’ll go through the UN.”

With that an alert sounded on her phone and she looked down at it. “I gotta go take a conference call but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Steve nodded to her as she stood up and left the room. She made it to her office, safely and swung the door open, pausing just to make sure nothing fell from the door frame. She darted through, took a look round and everything seemed to be in order.

Suspecting Tony of most likely sabotaging her computer or screen, she sat down on her chair and a loud horn sounded causing her to scream and involuntarily he entire body jumped, and her chair toppled backwards. She went with it, arms and legs flailing and she hit the floor with a crash.

After taking a moment to sort herself out she stood up, and looked at the bottom of her chair. There was an Airhorn strapped to the main leg which mean as soon as she had sat down, it would push the handle causing it to sound.

“I know you’re watching this you fucker!” she yelled, spinning round to the CCTV camera and flicking it off “I hate you!”

_____ Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Nice fall Kiddo…”

_______

Prank 4.

Given that there was nothing else to do, Natasha decided to head to the gym, as she did every Tuesday morning, to practice Pilates. It was a routine she tried not to break as it helped her keep supple and relax. Katie sometimes joined her, and surprisingly so did Steve. He said it helped keep his mind clear. 

She knew that the routine made her an easy target for one of Stark’s pranks, but she was damned if he was going to catch her out. She was one of the world’s best spies, no way was he going to get her with some stupid, childish trick.

She entered the room and glanced up and around, checking the corners, you name it. Satisfied that no one was going to jump out at her, and even if they did, she’d floor them- more fool you, Stark, she leaned up against the bench and stretched her legs out.

“Who's strong and brave here to save the American Way? Who vows to fight like a man for what's right, night and day?”

She spun to see Steve shaking his head as he made his way into the room in his gym gear

“You joining me or hitting the bag?” she asked as they both tried to ignore the song as it continued ringing from the speakers.

“Joining you if that’s ok?” he said, “I went for a run this morning so…” “Sure.” she nodded, and as the song finally stopped they made their way to the store cupboards, picking out their mats. Natasha picked her favoured one, and lay it down on the floor.

As soon as she stepped on it there was a loud popping noise, like a gun going off, and she jumped backwards, dropping to the floor by instinct. 

“Nat…” Steve said, a smile tugging at his lips “It’s ok, it’s not a gun.” Angrily she stood up, stalked over to the mat and pulled it up off the floor. She examined it a little before she gave a snort.

“Bastard!” she exclaimed, slipping her hand into a small, almost invisible hole on the underside. She pulled out a tiny little firecracker, the type that kids used to throw on the floor in front of someone to make a loud bag. “He’s filled my mat with these!” 

______

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Even Super Spies get fooled, Romanoff…”

_______

Prank 5 and 6.

Later that day the team met in the common room for lunch. Steve already had a headache from that damned song following him every time he opened a door, Katie was sporting quite a sore elbow after falling harshly on the floor, Bruce was pissed as it had taken him a good hour to get rid of the cups of water, and Natasha was seething at the fact she’d been caught out too.

“I don’t know how you’ve put up with it for your entire life.” Clint said to Katie as he opened the fridge, pulling out a can of his favoured Dr Pepper. He grabbed a glass and a few ice cubes, the way he always like his soda and walked over to where they were all sat on the sofas with various lunch items on the coffee table. He poured the soda into the glass and set it on the table.

“Yeah well, you better be careful.” Katie said “You too Thor, there’s no way he hasn’t set one up for you both.” “I am mighty Little Stark.” Thor grinned, nursing a plate of his favoured chocolate and sugar covered strawberries he had snaffled from a tray in the fridge “it will take more than…” “SHIT!” Clint exclaimed, and with a loud yell they all jumped back as the soda in his glass was exploding over the top with such veracity it was showering them all in the sticky drink. As Steve and Natasha headed to grab some paper towels, Katie marched over to the freezer and yanked out the ice dispenser tray.

“He’s put fucking Mentos in the ice cubes!” she said with a shake of her head. “Jesus Christ…” “You gotta hand it to him.” Bruce sighed, wiping his glasses off on his shirt 

“I’d like to hand it to him.” she mumbled, “with my fist closed.” Thor gave a chuckle and popped a strawberry in his mouth, before he gave a grimace, gagged and spat it back out onto the plate.

“That’s…” he stood up, nearly pushing Steve over in his attempt to get to the sink. 

Katie watched him as he grabbed a glass of water and filled it from the tap. 

“What...” Natasha looked at Bruce who was examining a piece of the fruit, holding it in front of his nose.

“Salt…” Thor mumbled as he rinsed his mouth out “It isn’t sugar, its salt. He put salt on my Chocolate Sugar Fruit!”

_____

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Ice Ice baby... not so mighty after all Thunder God.”

_______

*******

“We have to get him back…” Natasha grumbled as they all sat in Katie and Steve’s apartment, having retreated to the relative safety as their living quarters were the one place there was no CCTV, and Katie had the authority to banish JARVIS from earwigging. (Tony had learnt that lesson one day after hearing something he really didn’t want to hear…)

“Believe me I’ve tried.” Katie sighed “And you heard J before, anyone tampers with his equipment and…” She stopped dead. That was it. That was the loophole. With a smirk she looked round the assembled faces. Steve arched an eyebrow at her, he knew that look very well.

“What you thinking?” he asked and she grinned at them all.

“Ok, listen up.” she said, leaning forward. “I have an idea...”

They listened attentively, Clint and Natasha sharing a grin as she outlined her plan whilst Thor slapped his thigh with glee. Steve leaned back in his chair and looked at Banner who was also smiling ear to ear.

“That might just work.” The Doctor said “It’s a pretty good loophole, and we have the stuff in the lab so…” “I’ll need a distraction.” Katie said, “something that’s gonna draw Tony out of his office for long enough for me to do it but…” “That’s easy.” Thor said, “I’m sure I can cause a good deal of noise in the Training Facility, break a few things with my hammer…”

“Fry something.” Steve said, looking round “If you do that then JARVIS won’t be able to fix it remotely, Tony’s gonna have to get his hands dirty.”

“You all know what you’re doing?” Katie grinned as everyone nodded. “Ok, Avengers, let’s do this…“

Operation Payback.

Tony heard the bang seconds before JARVIS spoke

“Mr Stark…”

“What the hell was that?”

“There’s been an incident in the Training Suite.”

“Course there has…” Tony rolled his eyes in exasperation at how stupid they thought he was. He wasn’t falling for a distraction like that. “Where is everyone?” “Miss Stark, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton are in the shooting range.” Jarvis informed them. Doctor Banner was in his lab, although it appears he is now making his way down to the Training Facility to find out what’s going on. Captain Rogers is already there as is Thor.”

“What’s the incident?”

“It appears Thor has struck the speakers and the access pad with a bolt of lightning.” JARVIS replied “I’m currently assessing the damage but as a result he is locked in. And he isn’t happy.” Tony gave an exasperated groan and pushed his chair from his desk. “Suppose I best go see if I can help…remember what I said, anyone comes in here and tampers with my equipment…” “Of course, Sir…”

When Tony arrived Thor was kicking the door to the training facility, waving his hammer irately.

“Thor!” Steve was stood by the glass, attempting to calm him down. “Don’t buddy, we’ll get you out of there…” “I can get myself out…” Thor blazed, raising his hand and Tony blanched at the fact Thor was threatening to send his hammer straight through the wall. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the walls and glass to get damaged but they’d only just had it replaced after Steve and Thor had been practicing using Steve’s shield and Mjolnir to cause an outwards blasting shockwave. 

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, and Steve spun to him shooting him a glare.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on…” Thor roared “That infernal song…”

His hammer crackled ominously again and Tony looked back to Steve.

“He was fed up of hearing Star Spangled Man With A Plan ringing out every goddamned time I opened a door.” Steve folded his arms “So he lost his temper. And I can’t say I blame him.” “We’ve talked about this.” Tony looked at Thor “You need to use your words buddy…” “Words, I’ll give you more than words, Stark!” Thor roared “Now get me out of here!”

“JARVIS?” Tony asked, looking at the pad on the door. “Damage report?”

“The Circuit is completely fried Sir.” JARVIS said “I cannot access or override, you will need to do it manually.”

“Great…” Tony mumbled “Let me just go get my tools from the lab.” Mumbling to himself he set off down the corridor and once he was gone, Thor grinned and tossed his hammer in the air as he gave Steve and Banner the thumbs up before he caught it expertly again in his right hand.

“Good job!” Steve nodded with a smile as he pulled his phone out and dialled Katie quickly. “You’re up.” 

****

It took Tony roughly 30 minutes to replace the wires and unlock the door. Thor stormed out, pushed him harshly in the chest before he left down the corridor.

“Guess they don’t have April Fools’ day on Asgard.” Tony mumbled, rubbing at the front of his shirt.

“To be honest Tony, it’s pretty annoying.” Bruce sighed “Can you at least turn it off now, I mean its almost 2 in the afternoon.” “Yeah I suppose…” Tony sighed, before he grinned “it was a pretty good one though, right.” “Hilarious.” Steve deadpanned, his hands falling to his belt buckle. Tony flashed him a grin and a shrug before he gathered up his tools and made his way back down the corridor.

“JAR?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Turn off Prank Spangles will you, before anyone else breaks more of my tower.”

“Right away Sir.” “And I’m assuming from the lack of contact no one’s been in my office tampering with my equipment?” “That’s correct sir.” “Today has been a good day.” Tony grinned to himself.

Once he was back in his office he sat down at his chair, and went through his emails quickly. He absentmindedly scratched at his beard, which felt a little dry to be honest. But he hadn’t oiled it since that morning. Reaching into his drawer he grabbed the small bottle, tipped a good amount onto his hand and spread it across the expertly groomed whiskers before he continued with his work. It took him a few hours but he cleared his inbox and then decided it was time to face the music. Heading down to the common room he found the rest of the team lounging in front of the TV. They were watching Kitchen Nightmares. 

“S’up Kids?” he asked and none of them looked at him. “Ok, alright, I know…sorry if I pranked you but if I buy takeout will that make you forgive me?”

No answer.

“Oh come on!” Tony said, crossing the room, sinking into a spare arm chair. “I’ll get Thai…"

The team exchanged glances before Bruce gave a sigh. He was always the one to cave first, the mild mannered Scientist found it hard to stay outwardly angry, which was ironic when anyone thought about it.

“To be fair, that trick with the water was pretty clever.” he shrugged.

“Yeah, and I suppose the salt strawberries were a little amusing.” Thor said, looking at Katie.

She shrugged, her feet resting in Steve’s lap as he was gently running his fingers up and down her calf.

“Oh come on Kiddo…”  Tony sighed, flopping onto an arm chair.  

“Payback’s a bitch…and so are you.”  she said simply, still not looking at him.

“You’ve never managed to get me back yet.” Tony snorted.

At that point he noticed that Natasha and Clint exchanging smirks. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Clint said, shaking his head.

“I like your beard” Thor said, grinning “I have always admired how you keep it so neat and groomed. Maybe I should trim mine the same way.” Tony frowned. “Oh is this the part where you pin me down and shave it?” he rolled his eyes “You know I can call my suit to me in like 5 seconds flat.” “We know.” Steve said simply, looking at him. Tony’s frown deepened. The way the Captain’s blue eyes were shining with mirth made him uncomfortable.

He looked round as 6 pairs of eyes were all completely focussed on him now before Katie cracked up laughing.

“I’m sorry, I can’t…I can’t hold…” her laughter grew more and more as she threw her head back against the arm of the sofa “You look ridiculous…” Tony frowned and without a word stood up from the chair and made his way to the bar to glance in the mirrored surface between the shelves.

Oh. Holy. Jesus.

His goatee. His beautiful goatee...was blonde.

He spun round and the rest of the guys in the room cracked up laughing. Steve had his head thrown back, right hand clutching at his chest as Katie wiped tears from her face whilst Natasha doubled over on her seat. Besides her Clint slapped his thigh, his chuckles loud.

“What…how…” Tony spluttered, looking again at his reflection, before he glared back at the group.

“Slipped a little peroxide in your beard oil…” Katie managed to stutter between laughs, Thor’s loud rumbles continued, punctuated every now and then by a snort from Banner.

“JARVIS!” Tony roared “I told you to tell me if anyone went into my office, or the garage, or anywhere in the tower messing with my stuff…” "I take zero responsibility for this...sir” The AI responded “And I believe your instruction was to alert you if anyone entered your office or the garage or anywhere in the tower and messed with your equipment. Technically Miss Stark didn't touch your equipment, only your Male grooming product. I believe they exploited a loophole.” That made the group laugh even harder as Tony went bright red, spluttering obscenities at JARVIS. Eventually he calmed down and sighed, before he glanced at his sister.

“You know I’m almost proud…” he said, shaking his head. “Almost…”

Katie gave him a wink in response. “You know what they say…you can’t kid a kidder, or in this case Kiddo…”

Tony gave a groan which turned into a resigned chuckle. He could always dye it back...

Yes, April Fools’ day was still Tony Stark’s favourite time of year.

@the-omni-princess​  @momobaby227​ @geekofmanythings16​ @angelofhell-666​ @thewackywriter​ @marvelfansworld​​  @cobalt-gear​  @asgardlover75​ @jennmurawski13​​​  @jtargaryen18​​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​  @navispalace​​ @patzammit​​  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​​  @icanfeelastormbrewing​​ @djeniiscorner​​  @ayamenimthiriel​​  @coldmuffinbanditshoe​​  @disneylovingal​​ @madzmilllz​  @sgtjaamesbaarnes​

[whatarubberchicken]

AU YEAH August - 15 - Life Swap

@auyeahaugust

(Paired with 4 - Enemy, because I don’t like sleep)

Part 1

Everything I Want - Part 2

“Okay, I can do this,” Marinette said, slapping her cheeks to get herself worked up. Then, before she could chicken out again, she rapped on the door to her father’s office.

“Come in,” she heard him say, and quickly stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

“Papa,” she said primly, “I would like to talk to you.”

Gabriel Agreste barely spared her a glance. “I’m very busy, Marinette. I’m due for a meeting here—”

“—With me,” Marinette interrupted, pausing a bit at her own daring. She regained her composure and stood tall again. “I had Nathalie schedule a whole hour for us to talk, so if we make this quick, you should be able to actually get ahead in your designs afterwards.”

Her father regarded her silently for a moment, then flipped to his schedule to confirm her words. She heard him hum as he found her name under the appointed time.

“Very well, Marinette,” he said, lacing his fingers together. “You have my attention.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.

“I want to talk to you about the issue of my going to school—”

“Absolutely not.”

“But, Papa—”

“Out of the question,” he growled. “I will not have you outside in that dangerous world!”

Marinette firmly told herself not to scream. Not to cry, or pout, or stomp her foot. Those were things Chloe Bourgeois did to get her way. She was not Chloe Bourgeois. She was a lady. The Lady. Ladybug.

“I am Ladybug, Papa,” she reminded him, gritting her teeth to keep her words calm and even. “I am ‘out there’ every time you release an akuma.”

“Oh, are you going to go to school in your suit, then?” Gabriel sneered at her.

“I won’t need to,” she replied swiftly. “But I’ll have Tikki with me all the time, just in case. Please listen to my reasoning. I know the signs of an imminent attack; I know what to look for in your victims. I can help you find more people—”

“I am more than capable of doing that on my own,” her father interrupted, holding up his hand. It was clear he thought the matter was over.

“And I might be able to find Chat Noir easier!” Marinette burst out, before he could dismiss her completely. That made Gabriel hesitate, just like everything else that had to do with Mama. The Cat Ring was the one thing they were missing in order to bring her back. Marinette took another deep, calming breath. “Look, you and I have both tried to sketch him to figure out who he is, but the Miraculous magic gets in the way. We know he’s my age, and somewhere in the area. School’s the best place to look for him, you said so yourself—that’s why you keep akumatizing people from that school!”

To her delight, Gabriel appeared to be considering her words.

“I’ll be able to be on the scene that much quicker,” she said. “And I’ll have more of a chance to catch him that way. I can—” make friends, she almost said, but she swallowed it. She didn’t want Papa thinking she was going to get too distracted from her mission. “I’ve been having some difficulties in creating my own casual line,” she said instead. “And it would really help me if I could see what people my age are wearing these days. Normal people. You’ve been talking about making the company more marketable….”

Her father shot her an amused glance. “You’re still too young to take over my company, little bug.”

She grinned at him cheekily. “More information is always better, Papa. We have the advantage here. We need to press it.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “If we’re going to do this,” he said sternly, “we are going to do it my way….”

Marinette mentally cheered.

……………..

“I’m off to school, Mom—what’s that?” Adrien skidded to a stop on his way out the kitchen door. Sabine quickly hid the piece of paper behind her back.

“It’s nothing, dear,” she said, giving him a smile. “Have a good day at school.”

Adrien frowned, but gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek and waved goodbye as he headed out. They thought they could hide it, but he knew better. Dad was an amazing baker, and Mom’s chocolate was to die for, but their PR skills were crap. Hardly anybody knew about the gem that was the little bakery on the corner.

Dad couldn’t even come up with a marketable logo.

So, they were struggling. Not much, just a bill here and there. Still, Adrien was old enough to notice. And he was also old enough to want to do something about it.

“I think it’s about time to put my plan into motion, Plagg,” he muttered as he made his way downstairs.

“You want to get a job?” his kwami asked incredulously. “You’re barely a teenager! Learn to relax and live a little! Who would even hire you? You don’t have any skills!”

“Yeah, as you keep reminding me, the only thing I have going for me is my pretty face,” Adrien snarked back. He waved to his dad as he left the building. “So, I’ll use that.”

“Please tell me you’re not gonna let that blonde harpy hang over you even more than she already is,” Plagg moaned.

“Chloe’s rich, and well-connected,” Adrien argued. “She already thinks I should be a model.”

“Yeah, ‘cause she wants you as arm candy.”

“A good word from her will almost definitely land me a modeling gig somewhere,” Adrien continued, pretending he couldn’t hear the tiny cat. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt to be a little nice to her. She’s got barely any friends.”

“Probably because she’s rude,” Plagg drawled, rolling his eyes. “Baker Boy.”

Adrien grinned at his kwami. “It’s only an insult if I feel insulted, Plagg. I’m proud of my father. So, I happen to like being called a—”

“Baker Boy!” Chloe’s voice sang through their conversation and Plagg quick hid, trying to find a place where he wouldn’t be glomped with the rest of Adrien.

No luck. The kwami was swept up in the tight squeeze, more grateful than ever for the ability to phase through things.

“Oh, Adrikins, the most horrible thing happened!” Chloe sighed dramatically, draping herself over the blond again. “She’s somehow convinced her father to let her come to my school! It’s awful! She’ll ruin everything!”

“Who are you talking about, Chloe?” Adrien asked, disentangling himself and gently keeping her a good arm’s length away so Plagg could breathe. “Who’s she?”

Just then, a large car drove up to the school. Chloe gave a shriek of outrage and hid behind Adrien. “Her,” she hissed angrily. “Marinette Agreste!!”

Adrien blinked. Agreste? The daughter of the famous fashion designer? Rumors said she’d done a few pieces for her father’s company, and even designed a CD cover for Jagged Stone!! Ever since he’d considered modeling, he’d wanted to model for them!!

And… the girl that stepped out of the car… her hair done up in pigtails, with a pleasant smile on her face… Adrien felt himself blush.

Oh damn, she was cute.

She glanced over at him and, to his dismay, her eyes hardened.

What had he done? He couldn’t have done anything to her yet! He’d just seen her for the first time!!

Adrien felt his stomach drop further as she headed towards him.

“Chloe Bourgeois, how nice to see you,” she said, and he realized she wasn’t staring at him, but the blonde gripping his shoulders like he was her personal shield. Chloe realized she’d been called out and, of course, responded in kind.

“Marinette Agreste,” she sneered, stepping up to Adrien’s side and looping her arm into his. “So your daddy finally let you out of your cage?”

“Mmm,” Marinette agreed, and Adrien felt the temperature drop in his immediate area. “So nice of you, to send him police reports of all the crime in the area for the past three years.”

“Glad to help,” Chloe simpered.

“It’s too bad they were doctored,” Marinette said, her voice hardening. “Or that my father’s assistant isn’t as stupid as whatever flunky you hired to fudge them.”

“How dare you!” Chloe shrieked. “When my father hears of this—!”

“He’ll investigate immediately?” Marinette suggested, her voice sugary sweet again. “Wouldn’t want to lose my father’s vote after all, since he’s one of the mayor’s most prestigious supporters.”

Chloe actually growled, and clutched Adrien tighter.

Marinette glanced at Adrien dismissively. “Your arm candy, I assume?”

Inside Adrien’s shirt, Plagg started cackling. Adrien considered smacking the kwami to shut him up, but he was too mad to focus on that right now. How dare she? She’d hadn’t even met him properly, and she’d just assumed….

“I am not!” he exclaimed, pulling away from Chloe so he could face her better. “My name is Adrien Dupain-Cheng, and I want to be a model!!”

Crap, why’d I say that??

“But just because I look good doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” he continued, trying to save face. “And you’re being very rude to assume something before we’ve even met!”

Marinette took a step back, blinking. Her mouth opened, but Adrien didn’t want to hear it.

“Now, normally I’m not this rude either, so if you’ll please excuse me, ladies, we’re going to be late for class!”

With that, Adrien stormed off into the school, not even caring if either of them were following.

…………

She’d been in his class, Adrien reflected miserably as he waited for the sudden downpour to stop. Almost all of his classes. He’d had to see her practically all day and remember how he’d tripped over his words, and shouted at her, and how Chloe had practically clutched him all day long….

Ugh.

He was mad at her. But he was also mad at himself.

He hadn’t needed to react that way. So what if she saw him as nothing other than Chloe’s accessory? Maybe she still would’ve considered letting him work for her. Now he’d ruined all his chances.

Talk about bad luck.

“Um, excuse me,” came a small voice behind him. He yelped, jumped and spun around, his eyes going round when he saw who’d addressed him.

It was her! Marinette Agreste!

But instead of the haughty fashionista he’d seen this morning, she looked almost… shy. And she blushed when she realized she had his attention.

“I wanted to apologize, for earlier today,” Marinette said softly. “You were right, I had no right to assume—and no right to talk to you like that. I’m sorry.”

Adrien blinked, only part of his brain realizing that he’d backed out into the rain, and water was now dripping into his eyes.

“I’m sorry too,” he said, looking away. “I didn’t have to yell at you either. It was uncalled for, and totally unlike me.”

“Truce?”

He looked back at her to see her holding out her hand. He smiled as he grasped it firmly with his own.

“Truce.”

Water from his hand squirted up at her with the handshake, and he grimaced. But, before he could pull away and apologize again, Marinette flicked open an umbrella with her other hand and held it above them both.

Above them, thunder rolled.

.....

[saxgoddess25]

“Of Choreography and Clipboards” - SQW: Day 1

My fanfic for @swanqueenweek Day 1: Behind the Scene. Fluff and banter - the things I seem best known for. This could expand into something later, if I ever wrap up my other WIPs. Or if muses strike.

AO3 Link

Mills always looked adorable when she pushed those glasses up the bridge of her nose. Emma was so distracted that she almost dropped the prop sword she was using to go through the latest choreography with one of her stuntmen. “Pull it together, Swan,” she muttered, feeling foolish.

“What was that?”

“Sorry, David. My hand slipped a bit is all. Let’s go through that sequence one more time.”

“Sure.”

They ran through the movements again, but her concentration was shot. She was too aware that Regina Mills was about twenty yards away, working on something. Probably call sheets. She had a small army of PAs going to and fro, and somehow she kept the set running like a well-oiled machine. Emma didn’t know how she did it.

“I could use a break,” she said, pushing a few locks of hair that had escaped from her pony tail out of her eyes. “Why don’t we start back up after lunch?”

“Sounds good to me. One o’clock?”

“Yeah, see ya then.”

Stealing another glance over at Mills, Emma saw that she was still typing away on her pad, barely even looking up as the second AD came over to ask her a question. She’d work through lunch; Emma had watched her do it plenty of times. In fact, she thought she could count on her fingers the number of times Mills actually stopped for lunch in the year that they’d been working together. Their assistant director was a bitch on wheels when it came to a schedule, and she was every bit as tough on herself as she was everyone else.

A quick trip to craft services netted Emma a plate with two cheeseburgers and cans of soda stuffed hastily into her pockets. That was the easy part. The hard part was calming the nerves that suddenly sprang up in her stomach like captive yellowjackets.

“Hey.”

Mills flinched a little. Emma had caught her deep in concentration of the screen in front of her. “Hey.” The response was neutral, but had just the hint of the impatient question in it. She might as well have said, “Why are you bothering me, Miss Swan?”

“We just broke for lunch. Thought you might be hungry.” Emma waved the paper plate in her direction, giving her what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

Regina rolled her eyes, probably thinking that she had PAs to do that for her, but she did put her tablet down to take the plate from her. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks.” She took the offered can of soda too, and continued speaking as she checked to see if her burger had the right condiments on it. It did. Emma was good with details, especially when she’d been watching someone as intently as she’d been watching Mills for the past few weeks. “How’s Nolan working out?”

“Good. Really good.” She unwrapped her burger and had a bite. “I already knew he was a pro. We worked together a bit on Mission Impossible.”

“Glad to hear it. We’re going to need him to reshoot that scene from yesterday. Gold wants some different angles on it.”

“Okay. No problem. I’ll let him know after lunch.”

Mills nodded as she started in on her burger, attention slipping back to her pad and tapping a few things into it. “Oh, that’s right.” She gave a long-suffering sigh before looking over at Emma again, “You’ll need to find my sister this afternoon. She’s having a brain fart about that choreography in scene 125. Again.”

Zelena Mills was the star of the show – a real prima donna – and Regina’s older half-sister. Most of the crew hated working with her, but somehow, she’d become the studio’s darling. Though she wouldn’t dare say it out loud, Emma suspected that she’d slept her way to the top. It certainly wasn’t because of her sparkling personality.

Considering that it was just the two of them within earshot at the moment, she let her guard down enough to whine, “Do I have to?”

That brought the hint of a smile to Regina’s lips. “I believe that is what I pay you for.”

Emma huffed. “Fine. But you’ll owe me.”

Regina raised her eyebrow. “I’ll owe you a favor for doing your job?”

“Not just any favor. You owe me a date. Tonight.”

“Miss Swan, I’m terribly busy.”

“That’s my price for working with Her Royal Pain in the Ass. Take it or find yourself another stunt coordinator.”

Their eyes met and held, Mills clearly annoyed about having terms dictated to her, but in the end, she caved. “Fine.”

Emma grinned like an idiot and decided she’d better leave before she made a complete fool of herself - or Mills changed her mind. “Great! I’ll be waiting when you finish for the night.”

“It’ll be late.”

“I know. See ya!”

She took her sandwich and her Coke and went off to find a quiet, out of the way spot where she could do a happy dance. After pumping her fist in the air and generally being insane for about sixty seconds, she plopped down to finish her lunch, still grinning like an idiot.

At one o’clock, she tracked down David and ran through the sword fight with him again until he probably could have done it in his sleep. Then she made a round of the set to make sure everything was still going safely, and finding that it was, went to see about Zelena. That was a lot less fun, but if one thing could be said about Emma Swan, she knew how to kick some ass when she needed to. It only took a couple of hours to get her whipped into shape, and Emma hoped she’d retain all of the moves long enough to get it in the can. They planned to shoot that scene the next day, so perhaps she would.

It was about eleven when Emma finally worked her way back toward where she’d last seen Mills. She wasn’t there, but Emma noticed that she wasn’t far off, going over the day’s shooting with Gold. He seemed pleased enough with the report, and Emma leaned against a scaffolding for a while, just watching Regina’s face.

That’s a face that should be on the other side of the camera, she thought, trying to ignore just how smitten with her she was. It wasn’t fair that Regina’s self-centered, brat of a sister got all the limelight.

Emma glanced at her watch. They weren’t going to be able to do what she wanted to do that evening if they didn’t get a move on. Slipping her phone out of her pocket, she typed out a quick text and hit send. A half a minute passed, then she watched as Mills slid her hand into her pocket. It emerged with her phone, and she flicked her thumb over the screen to unlock it. Her eyes raised from the screen, scanning her surroundings until she spotted her stunt coordinator. Emma gave her a little wave, and it wasn’t long before Mills was striding toward her.

“You have something you needed to discuss with me?”

“Yeah. We’re going to be late for our date.”

Mills rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You called me away from the director for that?”

“Regina,” Emma didn’t think she’d ever addressed her by her given name before, and she hoped she wouldn’t get taken to task for it, but if things were going to go like she hoped, she’d have to do break that ice some time, “I know you. You’ll have gotten everything nailed down two hours ago. Anything else can wait for the morning.”

“You’re pretty cocky, Miss Swan.” The tone was disapproval, but her eyes betrayed her. She was intrigued. Score.

“When you’re as good as I am, it’s hard not to be.” Emma winked. Mills just laughed. The laugh was music to Emma’s ears.

“Is that so?”

“Sure is.”

“Fine. Let me just tell Mary Margaret a few things, then we can go.”

Emma nodded her agreement, even though her impatience was growing by the moment. At last Regina was striding back toward her, slinging her handbag over her shoulder.

“Okay, I’m ready. Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

Emma led her to her yellow beetle, pretending she didn’t see the way Mills sneered at it. Hopefully she’d come around to its charms eventually, because Emma didn’t have any intention of giving it up as long as she could keep it running. That bug was her baby.

It was nearly midnight when they pulled up in front of an old movie theater with the title of a film spelled out on its giant marquee, framed by flashing white lights. Regina stared over at her. “We work on a film set all day, and you want to go see a movie as a date?” Regina looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

“It’s not just any movie. It’s the Rocky Horror Picture Show! Don’t tell me you’re a…*gasp* a virgin.” Just then, Regina’s final words sank in, and before she could confirm or deny her RHPS virgin status, Emma said, “Wait. You think I’m cute?” She tried to play it cool, giving Regina a sly look, but inside she was giddy. It was hard not to start doing the car version of the happy dance. Somehow she managed not to.

“A figure of speech, Swan.”

“Nuh uh! You think I’m cuuuute. You want to date me,” she said in her best Sandra Bullock impersonation.

“You’re an idiot.” This time it was obvious that Mills was trying not to laugh.

“Mmhmm, and you’re a Rocky Horror virgin. Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight!”

“Need I remind you that I do have the power to fire you?”

“Not at all, Ms. Mills.” It wasn’t really a threat, she could tell. Emma gave her a wolfish grin. “Not at all.”

[shuaffeine-rkive]

chasing perfection

∘ summary:  Kim Namjoon is the only kid in AP Bio that is smarter than me, and I will make it a point to destroy his perfect record. Prompt from angstprompts (x)  ∘ pairing: namjoon x reader (borderline romance) ∘ genre: MAJOR ANGST, slight fluff, highschool au ∘ word count: 10,418 words ∘ warning: mentions of abuse and alcoholism. please do not read further if you are uncomfortable with both topics.

edit: repost from my old blog with fixes. A/N: I’ve never been more proud of finishing this oneshot :”) The plot has been bugging me throughout this exam weekend, and I couldn’t concentrate on studying without finish it, so here it is! I hope you all enjoy reading this <3 masterlist

For as long as you could remember, the only thing standing between you and the top spot in AP Biology was Kim Namjoon. 

You weren’t sure how he did it, or if it was realistically possible for him to always score maximum points on his assessments, but he did. He was gifted, their teacher had said. Gifted with the talent of an incredibly high IQ, on top of great diligence and the constant hunger for knowledge, he was a model student in the eyes of many teachers. He was always properly dressed, handed his assessments on time with high quality materials that clearly reflected how much thought and effort he had put into them, and had great manners to boot. He was offered a place on the student council numerous times, but he had rejected it as many times. No one knew why he would reject the offer, but perhaps he believed that he had contributed enough to his extensive list of achievements throughout high school. 

You, on the other hand, was just another above average student. You, with your jet black hair and black-rimmed glasses. You, with your above average marks, but did not stand out. You, with your constant effort to be noticed by your teachers to gain recognition for a bit of your hard work. But with Kim Namjoon around, you weren’t above average – you were almost invisible. AP Biology, however, was slightly different. You weren’t just above average, but you were second, a close one at that to the eternal first, Kim Namjoon. It was summer of your senior year that you had finally come to a resolution, one that you intended to accomplish no matter how much you would need to struggle through cups of coffee accompanying late-night studying, or how much of your precious sleep that you would need to sacrifice. Kim Namjoon is the only kid in AP Bio that is smarter than me, and I will make it a point to destroy his perfect record.

For as long as Namjoon could remember, his intelligence was the only thing that he could be proud of.  While he could care less about mere numbers on a report card, perfection – and the strive to attain it – had been drilled into his young mind and grew alongside him. Due to the premature death of his mother in a tragic travel accident, he grew up surrounded by constant fear of his alcoholic father, longing to see his constantly working older brother, Seokjin, who did his best to support their family, and the responsibility to care for his younger brother, Taehyung. He had initially wanted to help his older brother shoulder the financial burden of the family by taking up part time jobs, but Seokjin had banned him from doing so.  “Joon, you can accomplish so much more than these small jobs,” Seokjin had said, a soft smile adorning his face as he ruffled the younger’s hair. “Work hard in school, and you can bring us out of this hell hole. Besides, I need you to take care of Tae while I’m out working as well.” Thus, Namjoon had driven himself beyond what was expected of him to attain what he perceived as perfection. Seokjin trusted in Namjoon’s potential, and it was up to Namjoon himself to develop that potential into greater things. When he was younger, he wished that his life could turn for the better – it would just be him, Seokjin, and Taehyung, living a peaceful life together without the overwhelming smell of alcohol almost permanently present in their living space, without the fear of upsetting their drunk father who could turn violent in a blink of an eye, and most of all, to allow Taehyung – his baby brother Taehyung – to be able to pursue his dreams of becoming a photographer without anything chaining him down. Namjoon knew that he could help them achieve that dream, and he knew that if he worked hard enough, pushed himself harder than the rest of his same-age peers, and sacrificed his adolescence to wish for a better future, that dream would soon turn into the future. Kim Namjoon strove for perfection, because that was the only thing he could do to make his and his brothers’ life less of a nightmare.

“Tae, are you sure you can go to school today?” Seokjin asked the younger, a worried frown etched onto his face as he brought his hand to his brother’s slightly warm forehead. “You’re still not fully recovered from the fever you had last night, and you don’t have any major assessment today, so won’t you stay at home and rest?”

Taehyung shook his head stubbornly, munching on his breakfast toast as he tied his shoelaces, getting ready for another day of studying. “I’m fine hyung. If you’re worried, I’ll skip club activities today and go home early with Namjoon hyung, okay? Besides,” he lowered his voice to a hushed tone, afraid that their conversation could be heard by the senior occupant of the house, “I would rather go to school than stay at home with father the entire day.” Seokjin let out a sigh as he conceded, knowing full well that the youngest’s last sentence was something none of the three brothers could deny. Although the day was still young and they have yet to smell the retched alcohol their father would indulge in every day, they knew that it would come eventually, and the two older siblings knew that Taehyung would be safer at school than home when that time comes.  “I’ll keep an eye on him at school, hyung,” Namjoon assured the eldest with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Are you working the day at the bar?” A quick nod was sent as a reply. “What time are you getting back?” “Late,” the eldest replied, “I’m taking an extra shift at the bar tonight, so don’t stay up and wait for me.” It was Namjoon’s turn to frown as he pulled Seokjin closer to him, eyes glancing at Taehyung who was still busy with his shoes. “Hyung, this is the third time you’re working late over the span of five days, and even on days you get back early, I know that you stayed up nonetheless doing the accounts. You’re going to overwork yourself at this rate, and I’m worried.” “Don’t worry about me, Joon,” Seokjin smiled tiredly, not wanting to argue with Namjoon as he knew he stood no chance of winning against the younger. “We just need extra funds to cover the upcoming tuition fee dues, I’ll be fine. Besides, the bar is busier as it gets later, and I’ll get more tips than when I work early in the night.” Namjoon opened his mouth to argue, but Taehyung was already done and had approached them so he had no choice but to drop the conversation. There was an unspoken agreement between Namjoon and Seokjin that they would try to not involve their youngest in their troubles. They both wanted Taehyung to grow up without the burden of their constant worries and troubles, but they knew that Taehyung could be too perceptive at times, so they had to put in extra effort to not worry him.  “Is everything alright?” Taehyung blinked innocently, and Seokjin smiled while shaking his head, ruffling his two siblings’ hair before sending them out the door with a ‘get to school before you’re late’. Taehyung hopped out of their humble house, and waved the eldest goodbye before walking with Namjoon towards their high school. It was a fifteen-minute walk to school, and although the two used to take the bus, they decided that they would save the extra few cents of bus fare and walk instead. Besides, Taehyung had said, Namjoon needed the extra workout since he spent so much time indoors studying.  “Seokjin hyung is overworking himself, right?” Taehyung said abruptly, interrupting the silence that had fallen upon the brothers as they walked. “He’s always working and barely at home, and even when he is he wouldn’t rest as well. I know you two don’t want me to worry, but I can’t help but do so – you two are my precious family after all.” Namjoon sighed inwardly, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue as he thought about how to reply to Taehyung’s question. Before he could come up with a response, though, they had already neared the school area, and Taehyung could see his best-friend, Jimin, in a distance. The younger quickly bid his brother goodbye, running ahead to catch Jimin before he entered the school campus. “Don’t overdo it today, Tae,” Namjoon managed to call out before Taehyung was out of earshot, to which he replied with a wide smile and a thumbs-up, and proceeded to talk with Jimin. Namjoon smiled fondly at the sight of the two, wishing that Taehyung’s smile would always remain bright. Namjoon was ready to sacrifice anything for the youngest’s future, and he would do anything to make sure that he is always safe and smiling.

You groaned as your alarm blared, the noise ringing constantly as you stretched your arms above your head before moving to massage your stiff neck. You blinked a few times to allow your eyes to adjust to the light, before walking away from your study table to turn the blaring machine off on your bed-side table. You let out a sigh as you glanced at the mess of papers scattered around your table, reminding you of the upcoming test you had studied for the previous night, and you heard a soft knock at your door. “Morning sweetie,” your mother’s head poked in from your doorframe, and she only needed one glance at the skewed glasses sitting on your face and the way your hair seemed to be flatten on your right before she came to a conclusion. “You fell asleep on the table again, didn’t you?” You let out a sheepish smile as confirmation, and your mother could only shake her head at this common occurrence. Sometimes she wondered if you could stop studying for just one day and the good rest you deserved, but alas, she had tried countlessly to convince you to do so, but in vain.  “Breakfast is ready, so come down after you’ve freshened up.” You let out a mixture of a yawn and a response to your mother’s words, walking towards your bathroom to get ready for the day. After showering, you took a quick look on your face and inwardly cringed at the dark circles around your eyes that resulted from the last few nights that you had stayed up until the wee hours of the night to study. You put on extra concealer to brighten up your under-eye and fixed your hair into a bun, giving yourself a one-over before leaving your room. Your parents were already on the dining table, a coffee in your father’s hand and your mother setting down plates of pancakes and scrambled eggs at the centre of the table.  “Morning Dad,” you chirped as you slid onto a chair, taking some pancakes to put on your plate and immediately digging into them, glancing at the clock to check that she still had a few more minutes to spare before needing to head to school. “Morning sweetheart,” your father smiled. “Did you have a good rest?” “She fell asleep on the study table again,” a sigh escaped your mother’s lips. “Please don’t study too hard, sweetie, we know that you’re going to do well on your test again.” “But mom, it’s not just any test,” you whined, “Today’s test is for AP Biology, and I’m so so close to finally breaking Kim Namjoon’s perfect streak. I swore last summer that I will not allow myself to graduate without beating him once, and I’m confident that this test will give me that opportunity.” Your father chuckled at your antics, before taking another sip of his coffee. “Well, if this Kim Namjoon boy is motivating you to study even harder, then there’s nothing wrong with it, I guess,” he said, before receiving a sharp glare from his wife and added, “But don’t overdo it.” You nodded with a smile, finishing the last of your breakfast before wearing your shoes and left the house with a goodbye call to your parents. While your parents had never pressured you to excel academically, you found it in you to do so to not let them down. While your family wasn’t considered poor, you weren’t very well-off either, and you knew that your parents had to work hard to pay for the ever-increasing tuition fee. Thus, you took it upon yourself to push yourself to the limit and make them proud.  The morning passed by in a blur of classes as your focus was always brought back to the upcoming test in the afternoon. To say that you loved biology was an understatement – you had always loved studying about the human body and the world around you, for it was a subject so real and relatable to daily life. It wasn’t like the other sciences where they discussed hypothetical situations; biology discussed life itself. Thus, you had scored the highest in biology out of all your other subjects – but still, you were placed second against Kim Namjoon, the eternal top student. You weren’t sure why you felt compelled to overtake the boy so much, but perhaps it was because he was perfect in all other areas that it made him seem unreal.  It unnerved you, and you didn’t like that feeling. Therefore, you made a promise to yourself that you would at least overtake him once in your high school life, just to gain a sense of accomplishment.  Soon, it was time for the test. You feel your nerves rattling as you stepped inside the classroom, your mind racing as facts about muscles bounced around, and you took deep breaths to calm you down. As expected, the classroom was empty, as there were still ten minutes to go before class began, sans Namjoon, who sat at his usual spot in the middle row by the window, flipping through his notebook filled with writings. You moved to sit at your designated seat, one diagonal of his, and settled there, trying to get yourself comfortable whilst calming your nerves.  You can do this, you thought to yourself, you’ve studied long and hard for this test, and you’re going to ace it. You’ve got this. Following your mental pep talk, students started to file into the classroom, filling the space with chatters of last minute questions and the occasional groan of a student telling his friend to calm down, that failing this test does not directly decide your future. Your teacher, Mrs. Song, had finally walked into the class, and you felt yourself losing the small piece of self-control you had managed to keep for so long, tapping your pen against the surface of your table rapidly out of nervousness. Before she could announce for the class to keep quiet, however, a timid voice came from the door and grabbed her attention.  “Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Song,” the junior you recognised as Park Jimin said, his face rather pale and he was sweating profusely. “But could I talk to Namjoon hyung for a second, please?” Mrs. Song nodded as Namjoon walked over to the younger boy, confusion etched onto his face. The two stepped out for a moment, and when Namjoon walked back in, his face was visibly paler as his eyes reflected deep worry. A part of you were concerned about the conversation that had passed between the two boys earlier, but as Mrs. Song soon told the class to settle down as they were about to begin their test, you pushed your worries towards the back of your mind, and focused on the test instead. 

Namjoon knew that he screwed up the test. Throughout the entire hour, it was as if his body was working on autopilot as his mind wandered elsewhere. He replayed the entire conversation with Jimin numerous times in his head, and despite his best attempts to focus on the task at hand, it was Jimin’s voice that returned to invade his mind. “Hyung, I’m really sorry to disturb you, but,” Jimin started, his eyes nervously darting around as he fiddled with his fingers, trying to avoid Namjoon’s eyes, “Taehyung fainted in gym class earlier.” Namjoon swore that his heart stopped at Jimin’s words, and he could barely stop himself from spitting questions at the younger boy. He felt his blood run cold as he could only whisper out a small, “What happened?” “We were just playing basketball, and he suddenly fainted. I brought him to the infirmary and the nurse said that it’s a fever,” Jimin continued, biting his lip lightly. “She wanted to send him home, but he insisted to wait for you to finish class, so we relented. I just thought I should inform you first.” Namjoon let out a shaky breath, leaning against the wall slightly as he felt light-headed. Worried thoughts were running through his mind, and he felt a strong sense of dread settle on him as he felt responsible for not remembering that Taehyung had gym today, or even warning Jimin to not let him overwork himself because he wasn’t completely fit yet. He looked back towards Jimin, the younger obviously anxious to be bearing such news to the elder, and Namjoon softened at his timid posture, placing a hand on his shoulder as assurance. “It’s okay Jimin, you didn’t know that he wasn’t feeling well today. It’s not your fault, so don’t feel too pressured about that, alright? I have to get back to class, so you should too.” Namjoon could not shake the heavy feeling of responsibility away as he finished his test, and was glad that biology was the last class that he had for the day. The moment Mrs. Song dismissed them from class, Namjoon was already out of his seat, ignoring the curious glances his classmates spared him as he would usually take the time to engage the teacher in light conversation, rushing towards the infirmary. He knocked lightly on the door before entering, greeting the school nurse with a polite nod and walked towards the bed where Taehyung was currently resting. The younger boy was sleeping, but his breaths were heavy and could be heard. Namjoon gently sat on the side of the bed, his hand touching the younger’s warm forehead, and a shudder ran through Taehyung’s body before his eyes fluttered open, looking up to find Namjoon’s worried face staring back at him.  “Joonie hyung?” Taehyung croaked out, coughing lightly to clear his throat, but it soon turned into a coughing fit and Namjoon rushed to open a bottle of water for his brother to drink. “Jin hyung will get mad, you know,” Namjoon sighed, his heart aching as he took in Taehyung’s pale complexion and the heat emanating from his body. “You’re worried about him overworking himself, but you are doing so too, Tae.” “I know,” Taehyung pouted, eyes downcast with regret as he had added another worry on top of his brothers’ already growing pile. “I’m sorry.” Namjoon let out another sigh and ruffled the youngest’s hair softly, smiling lightly as he help him stand up. “It’s okay. Let’s get you home so you could rest more, okay?” Taehyung nodded silently as he leaned into Namjoon’s support, willing himself to walk properly despite his weakened body. The two brothers thanked the nurse, then slowly made their way home, and it took all of Taehyung’s willpower to not collapse on their walk. By the time they had reached home, Namjoon tucked the immediately knocked-out Taehyung in bed whilst scouring the medicine box for some anti-fever medicine. He contemplated asking Seokjin about how to tend to the sick boy, but decided against it lest the eldest would get overly worked up and even more stressed. Namjoon checked the house for their father’s presence, and upon finding him gone, decided that it was alright for him to leave to buy some food and medicine at a restaurant nearby. 

Namjoon was so preoccupied with taking care of Taehyung that his biology test slipped from his mind, which was why he was startled when Mrs. Song walked in the next day with a pile of papers in her hands. He was sitting in his corner of the classroom, lightly massaging his temples as exhaustion washed over him for he had stayed up the entire night trying to lower Taehyung’s fever. When Seokjin came home a few hours before dawn, he was surprised to find Namjoon still awake, carrying a bowl of water and a towel into the bedroom the three brothers shared. It didn’t take him long to figure out that Taehyung’s fever had gone up again, and the eldest immediately took over Namjoon’s job while forcing him to go to bed as he still had school in the morning. Thankfully, Seokjin did not have work during the day, thus allowing him to force Taehyung to stay at home whilst he looked after him.  Mrs. Song clapped once to silence the class, and as last of the students settled into their seats, she began to address the entire class, “As you all know and appreciate that I am a fast marker,” a collective groan erupted across the classroom, “I’m done marking your tests from yesterday. Step forward to collect your paper when I call your name.” You were nervous, but also excited as Mrs. Song began to call out names. You had put in your utmost best into this test, and you hoped that you could finally tick one of the goals you wanted to accomplish before graduating. As name after names were called, your ears perked when you heard a name you had been waiting for. “Kim Namjoon.” Namjoon stood up to walk to the front, his expression unreadable, but you could see him biting down the side of his lips lightly. Mrs. Song took a glance at his paper, before turning to face him, “It came to me as a surprise that you made a mistake in some of the easier questions, but you can’t always be perfect all the time. Keep up the good work, Namjoon.” You couldn’t stop the excitement bubbling within you as your brain processed Mrs. Song’s words – the perfect Kim Namjoon has finally shown his human side and made a mistake in his test. This was your chance to finally beat him out of the top spot, and had you were not so caught up in your own anticipation, you would have noticed that he had bit into his lips harder he swore he could draw blood, his complexion paling a few shades as he settled into his seat uncertainly. His head was downcast and his fringe covered his eyes such that no one could see them, but they were fixed on the foreign mark on the top corner, his hands trembling lightly as he clutched the paper tightly in his hands.  “Y/f/n.”  You tried to stay calm as you walked towards Mrs. Song, trying to contain the excitement bubbling within you as you felt your heart beating so quickly you feared that it would burst. Mrs. Song smiled as you approached her, handing over your paper with joy reflected in her eyes, “Congratulations on the full score, y/n. You obtained the highest score in the grade, keep up the good work.” You could hardly hear the rest of her words as your eyes scanned your paper over and over again, making sure that it wasn’t a figment of your imagination. You let out a wide smile in joy as you walked back to your seat, careful not to skip despite every fibre in your body wanting to do so. You spare a glance back at Namjoon, finding him staring out the window with unreadable eyes. You did not think much of it, and went back to paying attention to Mrs. Song as she started a new chapter of the course.  If only you had paid Namjoon more attention, you could see the inner turmoil reflected in his eyes as his hands trembled in his lap, and disappointment in himself ran through his blood, rendering him unable to think of anything but one thought.  You’ve lost the one thing you could had control over – perfection. What can you do now, Kim Namjoon?

Namjoon went home with a heavy heart, and an even heavier conscience. While he had expected the outcome, it still came to him like a hard slap to the face. He blamed himself for his lack of concentration – he should know better than to lose his cool over such sudden news, even if it involved Taehyung. He knew that should his brothers knew how much he was blaming himself for such a mistake, they would scold him and tell him that it’s alright to make mistakes. But Namjoon didn’t want such consolation; no, he wanted someone to scold him, get angry at him, for making such a stupid mistake. He didn’t want someone to tell him that he did alright and there was always another chance to make up for it next time, but someone to berate him for his carelessness, edging him on to reach further in towards the perfection in his mind. While a rational side of his mind was pleading for him to not take the matter in such graveness, his emotional side was ravaging, cutting him with hurtful words on how he had failed, and how much he should be disappointed in himself. The middle sibling had just entered through the doors of their humble home when Seokjin walked towards the exit, dressed in his work clothes, ready to head out for the night. “Tae’s asleep,” the elder said before he stepped out. “Dinner’s in the fridge, so heat it up later, alright? I’ll be back at around midnight. Also,” Seokjin stepped closer to the younger, lowering his tone, “Father is home, and last I saw him, he was at the backyard, possibly drinking. Be careful, and call me if anything happens, alright?” Namjoon could only nod at his brother, giving him a weak smile as he left the house. Namjoon walked quietly towards their room, glancing around warily as he wished that he wouldn’t have to cross paths with his father. He succeeded in doing so, and dropped his bag near the study table at the corner of the room, before walking towards the sleeping Taehyung and felt his temperature, which had thankfully gone down significantly. Namjoon allowed himself to smile, and went out of the room to grab himself a glass of water. What he didn’t expect, was a familiar voice calling out his name as he was crossing the living room towards the kitchen.  “Yah, Namjoon-ah.” Namjoon flinched when he heard his father’s voice, his words slurred and the air suddenly smelled strongly of alcohol. He could hear his heart, pounding harder by the second, in his ears, and he felt fear run through his blood as he tried to tell himself to calm down, but could not as he turned to face his father. People said that the Namjoon resembled the man the most out of the three siblings, the other two taking after their late mother, but as Namjoon faced him, he could not see any similarities between their appearances. In contrast to Namjoon’s warm, brown eyes, his father had cold, sharp and dull eyes ever since the accident that killed his wife many years ago. His face traced out wrinkled lines reflecting his age, and his hair was rather long and unkempt, in contrast to Namjoon’s neat and youthful appearance.  “Yes, father?” Namjoon was glad that his voice came out smooth and steady. The last thing he wanted to do was have his father pick up on his anxiety and use it to his advantage, and he tried to meet his father’s harsh eyes without flinching. “My son, it’s been too long since we last talked,” his father slurred, walking across the living room to stand near the frozen Namjoon, moving his arms in exaggerated motions as if he was trying to ask the younger to move closer to him. “Tell me, how was school? Are you still the top student in all your classes?” Panic settled itself into Namjoon’s being as his brain short-circuited, rendering him unable to come up with a quick response to the question. He mind ran around in circles, trying to find an acceptable solution to get out of this mess, but alas, he could not find one. His panic must have reached his eyes, because his father narrowed his eyes into a glare that sent chills down his son’s back, his lips spitting venom. “You dropped in the ranks, didn’t you?” Namjoon barely had time to prepare himself before a searing pain erupted from the left side of his scalp, and soon he found himself being thrown down towards the wooden floor of their home, his head colliding painfully with the hard material as orange sparks danced before his eyes, causing him to let out a painful groan. He had only blinked when his father kicked his abdomen abruptly, causing him to let out an involuntary shout of pain while he curled into a ball, trying to shield the area where pain had started to spread from the sheer force of the kick whilst whimpering softly.  “You worthless child, you had one job, and you can’t even do it properly?” his father spat, his eyes clouded over from both the effects of alcohol and rage. “At least Seokjin can work and make money and Taehyung can do other arts well, but what can you do, huh? Apart from studying what can you do, other than leech resources from us, you piece of trash? Can’t you even be useful for once?” As his father continued kicking Namjoon’s increasingly battered body, he could only focus on trying to breathe in short gasps, black spots dancing before his eyes. He felt pain all over his body, one so intense he could not concentrate on anything else, and he choked on his own breath, coughing painfully.  “Maybe I should teach you a lesson,” his father sneered at the boy writhing on the floor beneath him, struggling to ride out the pain. “Where is Taehyung? I should beat him too for you to learn your lesson to never slack off again.”  Namjoon jolted, fear evident in his eyes as he scrambled into kneeling position before his father, ignoring the pain from his lower body. “P-please don’t, not Taehyung, please he didn’t do anything. If you want to punish me, feel free to do so, I know I did wrong and I swear it will never happen again.” There was a moment of silence as all Namjoon could hear was his heart beating frantically from fear. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to Taehyung because of his mistake, and thus, while he was caught off-guard when his father suddenly slapped him hard, he was glad that Taehyung was at least out of his father’s target list. As another set of kicks found its way to Namjoon’s body, he could barely curl up on the floor to protect himself from further harm, the black spot clouding his eyes growing with each blow against his bruised body. “That should teach you to work harder, brat,” his father said venomously, and with one last piercing kick to his ribs, Namjoon surrendered to the growing darkness and blacked out. 

Taehyung woke with a start, frantically looking around him to pinpoint the source of the yell that had woken him from his sleep. As he held his breath to strain his ears even further, he heard another yell of pain from the living room, his blood running cold as he recognised the voice as Namjoon’s. He had a rough idea of what could be happening outside, and immediately bolted towards the door, but as his hands reached for the door knob, he heard Namjoon’s pleading voice, a voice so hoarse and broken, laced with desperation. “P-please don’t, not Taehyung, please he didn’t do anything. If you want to punish me, feel free to do so, I know I did wrong and I swear it will never happen again.” Taehyung froze in his position, his mind going blank as a few moments passed in silence before a loud slap caused him to flinch and snap him out of his blanked state. He knew that he had to step out to intervene before the damage to his brother could get more severe, but Namjoon’s plead earlier rang in his head repeatedly. He assumed that his father must have threatened his safety somehow, and thus, if he had rushed out to save Namjoon this moment, he could possibly do more harm than good. Despite his old age, their father was easily stronger than the siblings, especially when drunk. With a heavy heart and tears streaming down his face, Taehyung had no choice but to stay inside his room, sinking to sitting with the door on his back, covering his ears in an attempt to muffle the pained screams from outside. Alas, Namjoon’s voice pierced through the cold air, Taehyung flinching in time with the screams.   After a while, Namjoon’s voice was gone, accompanied by the slamming of the front door merely moments later. Taehyung shakily stood up, carefully opening the door, and once he peeked out and made sure that his father was gone, he bolted towards Namjoon who was curled up on the floor, his breathing laboured as dark bruises started to appear on his skin. Taehyung bit back tears as he tried to shake his brother without adding to the damage, but upon receiving no response, the youngest child hoisted the elder’s limp body onto his back, bringing him back to the room and gently laying him on the bed. He then scoured for his phone, shakily dialling the number he knew by heart.  “Taehyung? What’s wrong?” Seokjin’s voice came from the other side of the line, worry laced in his tone as Taehyung tried to stop sniffling to be able to answer him properly. “Hyung, it’s Joonie hyung …”

Namjoon groaned as he felt his consciousness gather, cracking his eyes open slowly as he adjusted to the light streaming into the room. Memories from the previous day rushed into his mind, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps and he wondered how he had gotten back to their bedroom. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, wincing as pain shot through his body with every movement that he made, and was about to push off the bed into sitting position when he felt a gentle hand push him back towards the comfort of the bed. He lifted his eyes to stare into Seokjin’s anxious ones, and he flinched from the guilt evident in them. “Hey, don’t push yourself, you’re hurt pretty bad,” Seokjin whispered, sitting on the side of the bed while stroking Namjoon’s head fondly, and the younger unconsciously leant into his touch. “You were unconscious for so long you had me and Taehyung worried out of our wits. Can you tell me what happened?” “Father,” Namjoon replied, his throat parched such that his voice came out like a nail scratching on a blackboard. “He was drunk, as always. Where’s Taehyung?” Seokjin nodded towards the bed on the far end of the room, his eyes scanning the youngest boy curled up in his bed, tear streaks evident on his cheeks. “Sleeping. He was crying pretty badly and wouldn’t rest until you woke up, but I managed to force him to sleep. He has school today, after all.” Namjoon let out a sigh as guilt bubbled inside him. He had made his brothers worry again, especially Taehyung. He hoped that the youngest had not overheard the exchange between their father and him, lest he felt guilt over not being able to stop the chain of events. Namjoon would do anything to keep his brothers safe, even if it meant that he was going to get hurt.  “I need to start getting ready too, I also have school today,” Namjoon struggled to raise his head, propelling his aching body upwards into sitting position whilst putting the intense pain at the back of his mind.  “Kim Namjoon, don’t you dare,” Seokjin hissed, placing a hand on the younger’s back to steady him. “You are in no condition to go to school today, and I am forbidding you from doing so.” “But I can’t, hyung – I can’t afford to miss school,” Namjoon pleaded, his voice breaking towards the end. “I can’t afford to fall behind in classes, I can’t just miss classes like that or it’ll just edge father even more and put you two in danger –” “Namjoon, slow down,” Seokjin hushed the panicked boy, his heart turning into lead as all the gears clicked into place in his mind. “Did something happen in school that you haven’t told me yet?” Namjoon bit his lip and hug his head in shame, and that was more than enough confirmation for the older male. Seokjin let out a sad smile, bringing his arms around the younger’s body gently, afraid that he would do more harm than comfort. While the younger flinched when Seokjin first hugged him, Namjoon eventually leant into his brother’s embrace, relishing in the comfort despite his screaming back. Seokjin took this as a sign to tighten his hold on him, stroking his head lightly like he was calming down a child – one whose body was scattered with bruises and shaking in his hold, biting down on his lip as guilt washed over his entire being.  “It’s okay, Joonie,” Seokjin rarely called the younger with his pet name, because Namjoon had insisted for him not to. Namjoon felt that the nickname made him appear child-like and immature, when all he needed was to be the opposite – to be another pillar of this household that Seokjin could trust and count on. Thus, the older only used the nickname when he wanted Namjoon to let loose, to revert back to the teenage boy he was supposed to be, free from the burdens of the adult world that he had taken up before he was supposed to. “It’s okay, I understand – you’re human too. You can make mistakes, you don’t have to be perfect. You being you, is all that I can ask for.” But Seokjin did not understand. Namjoon only had his mind, that was the only thing he was ever praised for. He was clumsy, had no talent in sports or arts. If he did not sharpen it to perfection, could he ever bring them out of this hellhole? Could he ever make his dream of Seokjin working normal hours without worrying about the heavy burden of financially supporting the household a reality? Could he ever make his dream of Taehyung pursuing his dreams of becoming a photographer a reality? No, Namjoon thought to himself, they will never become reality if I don’t try harder, if I don’t study harder, succeed in the world of academia and help support this family.  Thus, I need to chase after perfection until it is no longer a mirage, but a reality.

As you entered the classroom that day, you were surprised to find Kim Namjoon’s seat empty. You blinked numerous times, even rubbed your knuckles against your eyes to make sure that you were seeing things right. Alas, Namjoon still did not show up in your view, and not when the rest of the students filed into the room with Mrs. Song in tow.  “Alright class, let’s get started,” Mrs. Song clapped to get the students’ attention, “Namjoon won’t be joining us in class today, but let’s move on to more important things.” You unconsciously frowned at her words, turning to gaze at the empty table diagonally across yours. It felt foreign to see it unoccupied with the usual male who would always have a pen in his hand, a notebook open on the table before him whilst his gaze was completely fixed on the teacher. How you remembered his movements in such detail unnerved you, but you could not help the bubble of worry rising from within.  “As you all know, you will be required to complete a project worth fifteen percent of your final grade for this subject,” Mrs. Song started, earning a chorus of groans across the class whilst snapping your attention back to her. “For seniors, you will be required to present an original research paper by the end of the term on any topic related to the cardiovascular system. You are allowed to draw ideas from research papers and articles on the internet, but not Wikipedia. You will be doing this project in pairs, but,” Mrs. Song raised her tone against the cheers that erupted towards the back of the room where people have already made eye contact with one another to call dibs on partners, “you are not going to choose your partners. It will be done by lottery, and once a name has been drawn, it is final. “Y/n, since you scored the highest in the previous test, you may draw a name first,” Mrs. Song smiled in your direction, and you gulped at the sudden attention you are receiving. You could feel the stares of many of your classmates, their eyes bearing their hopes of being partnered up with you for an easy way out of this project. You silently hoped that you could get a decent partner, just so that you would not need to suffer through working on this project alone. You slowly stood up and walked towards the pile of papers containing the students’ names on top of the teacher’s table, and hesitantly grabbed one at random. You could feel your heart beating wildly out of anxiety as you peeled the paper open, and when your eyes fell upon the name written on it, you felt both senses of relief and dread replacing the anxiety. You wondered if this was some sort of divine joke, that a coincidence like this should happen. Mrs. Song, on the other hand, smiled widely upon looking at the paper between your fingers, anticipating great works from the two of you. After all, your partner was Kim Namjoon.

That night, you could hardly sleep as your mind wandered back to the upcoming project. Prospective ideas about what you could research on ran through your mind, ideas bouncing off the walls of your brain, begging to be attended to. However, you were more concerned about the fact that your partner didn’t show up in school today. From as far back as you could remember, you had been sharing classes with Namjoon since your freshman years, but not once did he miss school. It worried you that he had suddenly disappeared, especially since it was a day after you had finally broken his streak of placing first. To make matters worse, you had tried to obtain his contact number from the people in your class, but none of them had it. You had also attempted to approach his younger brother, Kim Taehyung, who was your junior by a year, but he had already left when you finally figured out which class he was in. Frustrated by your lack of method to contact him about the project, you could only hope that he would come to school the next day. While you did not have to compare your results to Namjoon as he was your partner, you still felt compelled to complete this project well and quickly, as you knew how busy things could get towards the end of the term. You almost let out a huge sigh in relief when you walked into your AP Bio classroom the next day to find Namjoon sitting on his usual seat, a dark blazer worn over his uniform as he took out his materials for the class. You noticed that he was rather slouched, in contrast to the usual straight position he always sat in, and you berated yourself for noticing such tiny details about him. Kim Namjoon was just a rival in your class, you tried to tell yourself – nothing more, nothing less. You approached Namjoon’s table and cleared your throat to gain his attention, and his head immediately snapped up to face you, giving you a direct view of the eyebags under his eyes and the exhausted gleam in his eyes. You feigned ignorance as you started explaining to him the details about the project announced the previous day. “Basically, you’re my partner,” you explained, to which he nodded, “and I would really appreciate it if we could wrap this up quickly before things get busier at the end of the term.”  “I agree,” he nodded at your words, a small smile grazing his lips as his eyes never broke contact with yours. “The sooner we finish this, the better. Would you like to head to the library after class today to get started on it?” “Sure,” you returned his smile with your own, a light feeling washing over you as you agreed to his proposition, before walking back towards your seat. “I’ll see you after class, then.” Throughout class, you could only look forward to meeting Namjoon afterwards, and you tried your hardest to concentrate on Mrs. Song’s words. You snuck a few glances over at Namjoon, frowning when his body seem to jerk at some moments, his face scrunching up into a look of pain before he smoothened his expression and went back to paying attention to the material delivered. You wondered why there was an unsettling feeling residing in you as you continued sneaking looks at him, observing him throughout the entire period before the bell rang, and you gathered your things to walk towards the library with him.  If you weren’t so perceptive of tiny details, you wouldn’t have noticed the way he was lightly limping on your walk towards the library. He continued to talk to you about some ideas he had for the project, and you tried to focus on his words instead. By the time you had reached the library, the two of you had already decided on the topic, and while you went online on your laptop to search for materials you could reference, Namjoon went around to find some books to get started.  The two of you worked quietly on finding materials on how caffeine affected the cardiovascular system in detail, sans several questions you asked him when you didn’t understand certain terminologies or concepts. You were amazed on how much he knew about these advanced terms, and you felt a growing admiration for your partner and how much effort he had put into studying. It was no wonder that he had managed to keep up his reputation as the top student in their grade for so long, and when you mentioned this to him, he blushed and laughed sheepishly, his eyes disappearing into crescents as dimples formed on both sides of his mouth.  “I’m not good at anything else except for studying, so,” Namjoon lifted his arm to scratch his head out of shyness of your sudden compliment, “figured I should at least perfect it, if anything.” You had almost forgotten your mini observations throughout the day, when a dark purple bruise peeked out from under his sleeves and caught your eyes. Your hand shot out in reflex, grabbing his arm in alarm and concern of what you had seen. You must have exerted too much force in your palm, because Namjoon let out an involuntary yelp of pain, immediately taking his arm out of your hands and cradling it close to him.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you quickly apologised, watching the way his smile morphed into a thin line, his eyes avoiding contact with you. “Namjoon, that was one nasty bruise on your arm. What happened?” “I fell,” Namjoon tried to give an excuse, albeit cliched and he knew that you wouldn’t buy it. He could tell so from the way you raised an eyebrow, staring at him incredulously while he refused to meet your gaze. “It’s no big deal, let’s get back to work.” A heavy silence fell upon you two as you forced yourself to put your curiosities aside, yet could not help but look over to the male once in a while. He was engrossed with finishing his work, so you decided to do the same. Two hours passed in silence, before you heard another person approaching the table you two were working at. “Joonie hyung?” came a male voice from behind you, and you turned to face Taehyung, whom you recognised as Namjoon’s brother. You silently noted the way Namjoon immediately turned to face him, his eyes softening as his gaze fell upon the younger male and a warm smile made its way to his face.  “Hey Tae, you’re done for today?” Taehyung nodded, doe eyes glancing over to you in a silent question. Namjoon took the liberty of introducing yourself, and you nodded politely at the younger Kim with a greeting smile.  “Sorry y/n, I’ll be heading back first. Speaking of which, could I get your number?” Namjoon said, fishing out his phone from his pocket whilst quickly adding, “For this project’s purpose, of course.” Namjoon shot a glare at Taehyung who was smirking in the background, and you chuckled at their sibling dynamics. As an only child, you had always found sibling interactions adorable, but Namjoon and his brother’s relationship appeared so pure that you found their relationship beyond the definition of adorable. You quickly typed your number into his phone, and soon he got up to leave with Taehyung, who smiled widely and waved you goodbye. You laughed and waved back at him, eyes following the two brothers as you could see Taehyung with mischief twinkling in his eyes, seemingly teasing Namjoon about his motives of obtaining your number whilst Namjoon just sighed helplessly, pretending to ignore him but a smile was still on his face whilst he looked at the younger. You felt as if Namjoon had turned into a different person with Taehyung around – he was no longer that disciplined model student he was most of the time, but instead appeared to be just a teenager their age. Although you were still troubled by the apparent bruises on his arm, you could not help but feel at peace whilst watching the two males interact, and you could only hope that things were peaceful for them for long. 

Namjoon groaned inaudibly as he woke up the next morning, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He could hear Taehyung soft snores from the other side of the room, and quietly stretched out his limbs as he got out of bed, careful not to wake Seokjin who was still knocked out in the bed adjacent to his. As he went to shower, he could still feel the ache all over his body, although it was much more bearable than the previous day. His mind wandered to the moment when your eyes had caught the bruises on his arm, and the worried look on your face. He didn’t mean to perplex you, or anyone for that matter, which was why he had worn a blazer to school that day. He also tried to hold in the pain that came with walking and moving in general as he was not fully recovered yet, but had gone against Seokjin’s wishes and forced himself to go to school. Deep down, he hoped that you wouldn’t bring up the matter again, as he didn’t want to have to explain himself and his whole life, much less burden someone else with the burden that comes with the knowledge. He was rather surprised when he walked towards his locker early morning, and found a small envelope slipped inside. The envelope had a polaroid and a note, and he grabbed the note first to scan the writing on it.  “I don’t know what you’re going through, but I hope that you stay strong regardless. Fighting! –y/n.” A smile grazed his lips as he took the polaroid in his hand. It was blank, sans for the words ‘stay strong’ written in sharpie in the centre, and he recognised it as your handwriting. He looked around just in time to catch you peeking your head out from behind another row of lockers, looking at him as he was reading the things you left him, and upon realising that he was looking in your direction, you quickly turned and walked in the other direction, leaving him to chuckle at your antics and a warm feeling spreading through him. He shook his head to clear his mind from thoughts of how cute you were acting, and slipped the polaroid into his wallet. Grabbing his books for the next class, he walked towards his classroom with a soft smile on his face. 

The next few weeks passed by in a blur as you busied yourself with the research project on top of other assignments from various classes. Ever since the little polaroid gift, the two of you never brought up his bruises again, and you were rather happy that he had appeared to recover well as days passed. Instead, the two of you got closer as you spent more days researching, planning, and presenting your research in essay format, spending more time together in the library until late into the evening. You would often see Taehyung as well, the younger sometimes keeping you two company as you worked, often bringing some snacks and refreshments with him.  You learned more about who Namjoon was as a person as well. You learned that he had another older brother who was working, and that he loved reading books. You also shared your interest in biology and your future goals of becoming a doctor with him, and learned that he was considering doing psychology in the future amongst other aspirations he had. You learned that behind the façade of the perfectly calm and controlled Namjoon that he projected in daily life, was a boy filled with what you deemed unrealistic expectations for himself to attain what he perceived as perfection, sometimes pushing himself beyond normal limits. While he never mentioned his family beyond his siblings, you could guess that his upbringing played a significant role in shaping his character that way, and your suspicions were confirmed when you finally talked to Taehyung about it. “Joonie hyung has always been like that,” Taehyung smiled sadly in response to your question. You were at the library, in the final stages of editing your project while Namjoon was out running an errand for another teacher, and Taehyung came to keep you company instead. “Since we were young, he stood out amongst us as really smart, and eventually he pressured himself to always do the absolute best to not disappoint the expectations that came with that status. Jinnie hyung and I always told him that what he did was good enough, but he was never satisfied, always chasing after that perfection in his mind.  “It was really scary, at first, when I saw how much pressure he put himself under,” Taehyung continued, his eyes glossing over as he recalled the nights where Namjoon was teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown, and no matter how much he and Seokjin had tried to ground him, he still refused to come down. “He could forget any and everything when he would be so concentrated on studying. But these days, I noticed that he seemed to have let loose a bit more, and perhaps that’s because of y/n noona as well.” “Me?” you stared at him in shock, “I didn’t do anything, Taehyung.” “Maybe consciously, you didn’t,” Taehyung smiled at you, “But I can see that he trusts you, and that he can rely on you to take on some of his burdens. You ground him, bring him back to reality that we all know, and yet still encourage him to push himself in a healthier way. Ever since you two became friends, I can see that he smiles more often, holds himself together properly and while he did not lose that ambition that he has for perfection, he begins to accept that maybe, there are good sides to being imperfect as well. “And for that, I can only thank you.”

Months passed by as the academic year seemed to zoom past the terms and soon, you found yourself in the last day of your senior year, ready to graduate with the rest of your peers. While the project had gone exceptionally well, with you and Namjoon obtaining the highest mark to no one’s surprise, and had brought about a great boost in your overall marks, it marked the start of a friendship you now treasured deeply. After the project was over, you still kept close contact with Namjoon as you would often study together in the library, or go out for coffee during the weekends. You kept Taehyung’s words in your heart, and you started to notice the changes he had mentioned. You noticed that Namjoon, whom you used to always see wearing a blank expression, had started wearing his dimpled smiles more often, his features visibly brighter as his spirit was too. You were content with the notion that you were partly the reason for his change, and you started to dread the impending graduation where you would have to leave high school life behind.  At the start of senior year, you had made a promise to yourself – to work your hardest and beat your ‘rival’ at long last. Little did you know, that a year could bring so many changes to your life – and others – whether it be the unexpected friendship between you and Namjoon or the fact that you, after a whole year of tutoring sessions from Namjoon, could graduate within the top tenth percentile of the batch and was accepted in prestigious universities across the country. However, some of these changes were less joyful than the rest, as you would be separated from your friends and family, venturing beyond the school world and taking a step closer to the adult one.  As the graduation ceremony came to a close, you stood with your parents on either side, both of them proud of what you had accomplished throughout your schooling years. As you spotted Namjoon’s blob of hair amongst at least a hundred other heads in the crowd, you immediately rushed to his side, leaving your parents with a rushed sentence of where you were heading. Taehyung was also in attendance, and had noticed you first whilst you were still manoeuvring your way through the sea of people, excitedly waving you over. Beside him stood another man resembling him, and you assumed that it was their eldest brother, Seokjin, that you had only heard stories about, but never actually met in person.  “Y/n noona!” Taehyung jumped to hug you tightly, squeezing the breath out of you, “Congratulations on graduating!” “Thanks Tae,” you returned the gesture with a laugh, before pulling back and greeting Seokjin, who was looking at you with an odd gleam in his eye.  “So this is the infamous y/n,” Seokjin chuckled, dragging Taehyung away from you before he could suffocate you with his hug, “Sorry it took us this long to meet in person. Thank you for being such a good friend to Namjoon and Taehyung.” “It’s my pleasure,” you chimed back, before placing a hand on Namjoon’s arm, “Do you mind if I borrow him for a second, though?” The moment you finished your sentence, Seokjin was already dragging Taehyung away from the pair of you, half-shouting that he wouldn’t want to disturb the moment between you guys, causing Namjoon to blush and wave him off. You laughed at his flustered expression, seemingly embarrassed of how his brother was acting, but you could see from his eyes that he loved them regardless.  “Congrats on graduating y/n,” Namjoon started, shifting his attention back to you. “Seems like yesterday that we had just started that research project, and now we are already at the end of our high school life.” “Yeah,” you agreed, smiling fondly as you recalled the memories from the earlier terms. “Can’t believe it’s all over already.” “You know, y/n, I never thanked you for everything,” Namjoon said abruptly, catching you off-guard as his eyes found yours, staring into them with an intensity that made you weak. “For being such a good partner and friend, for helping me throughout all those down moments I had. For never pushing me to tell you things, and for lending an attentive ear and input when I shared. This year had been so much better than any other years of my life because you were there.” “I must thank you too, Namjoon,” you smiled back at him, reaching out to hold his hand in yours. “Without your help, I wouldn’t have made it to Seoul Medical, so thank you for that. “I know that it’s going to be hard to keep in contact, with us being in different universities and all,” you continued, returning his gaze with your own intense one, and you felt yourself being drawn to his brown orbs. “But I hope that you remember this: even if you’re not perfect, you’re limited edition. Being perfect is not the key to happiness, but if you live everyday earnestly, then even if you make mistakes, you won’t feel regret – and that is what happiness truly is.” A moment passed in silence as the two of you continued gazing into each other’s eyes, and you noted that his were starting to get glossy with tears he tried to hold back. You stepped closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around you, your own arms going around his waist in a tight hug. You felt safe in his arms – relishing the warmth radiating from him as you closed your eyes to prevent the tears that pricked the edges of your eyes from falling. You felt his chest rumble beneath your ears as he started to speak again. “Thank you, y/n. Promise me you’ll keep in touch?” “I promise.”

[y02mustang-the-bard]

Supercorp Week 2k17 - Day Three

Prompt: Reveal

This is a scene that I had in my head for a while but couldn’t fit into any of my current fics. I think it works well for today’s prompt.

@supercorp-week2k17

Read on AO3.

“Good morning, Ms. Luthor.”

“Good morning, Jess.”

“This came for you this morning. It’s been scanned by security.”

Lena frowned and eyed the square cardboard box on Jess’ desk. “Who’s it from?”

“Alana.”

“Oh, let’s see, then.” She pulled open the flaps and pushed aside the tissue paper, removing a polished silver cube with the L-Corp logo engraved on one-side. It was heavy, probably at least five pounds. A small notecard inside the box simply said For your never-ending stack of papers and Lena chuckled. She and Alana had a few conversations while she was filling in for Jess, with Lena providing some guidance and business advice when Alana made small talk about her desire to become an executive.

“How thoughtful.”

“I’m glad she enjoyed her time here,” Jess commented, removing the empty box.

“I’m just glad she was downstairs when those men attacked.” Lena hefted the paperweight in her hands and carried it into her office. “Can you get me the files on the Green Initiative before this afternoon’s meeting, please?”

“Good afternoon, Kara.”

Kara beamed at the receptionist. It had only taken three months of Kara dating Lena, and therefore having much more regular visits to L-Corp, for the assistant to finally stop calling her ‘Ms. Danvers’, at least to her face. “Hey, Jess! Is Lena busy?”

Jess glanced at her tablet. “She’s free for the next forty-five minutes.”

“Great, thanks!” Kara knocked once on the double doors and then pushed them open, stepping inside Lena’s office. “Hey.”

Lena broke into a smile when she saw the reporter walk in. “Hey, yourself. How’s your day going?”

“Better now,” she grinned, approaching Lena’s desk. She slowed and paused near the chairs, frowning at the wave of nausea that struck, but when she tried to shake it off and took another step, she fell to one knee.

"Kara!" Lena was at her side instantly. "What's wrong?"

“Sorry, I just…” she groaned. She shook her head, wondering if she could pass it off as a bout of vertigo, but the agony pulsing through every cell told her otherwise. One hand clenched in a fist against her chest while the other rested on the floor, slowly flexing open and closed as she tried to manage the flood of painful radiation.

“What is it?” "Kryptonite," she panted, tearing her glasses off with a trembling hand and scanning the room but not finding the source. A few lead items, like Lena's safe, but nothing that gave a Kryptonite signature. "I don't ... I can't find it. What’s different here?" Lena frowned and went over her office, mentally cataloging every item. What was new since Kara's last visit? Her gaze fell on the cube paperweight on her desk.

"This?" she asked, lifting the paperweight in her hand Kara flinched. "Yes," she hissed. "What can I do?" "Your safe." Lena walked in an arc as far from Kara as she could and she held the object at arm's length, murmuring, "I’m sorry, love," when Kara whimpered, and opened the cabinet that held her safe. Her fingers were quick on the digital combination and she ripped it open, stuffing the paperweight inside and closing the safe again immediately. The iron fist around Kara's lungs loosened and she took a long breath, trying to push up from her knees but they buckled again and she just stayed crouched on the floor. "Sorry, I'm, I'm okay." Lena was at her shoulder. "I'm here, Kara. Come on, lean on me," she encouraged, gripping the woman under her arm and walking slowly to the balcony. She considered the couch but then remembered the yellow sun that healed her, and instead lead her outside, walking slowly, somewhat surprised at how heavy Kara was as she leaned against her. "Can you stand here for one second?" she asked, putting Kara’s hands on the railing. When Kara nodded, Lena left her for a few seconds and carried a chair out to the balcony, placing it just behind Kara's knees and then gently leading her back against it. "Sit here for a minute, okay? I'm going to take care of a few things and I'll come stay with you." She ran her fingers through soft golden locks and Kara nodded her assent, breathing still labored but beginning to ease.

Lena pressed a kiss to the side of her head and then slipped back inside her office. First, she called Alex. "Danvers." "Alex, it’s Lena. Supergirl was exposed to Kryptonite here, in my office. She's okay but you'll want to send someone to collect it and I'd really like her to be seen by a medical team." "My team will be there in thirty minutes," she replied instantly, beginning to snap orders to agents nearby, including a Kryptonite containment unit. "We'll need complete access to your office." "Of course." Alex hung up and Lena messaged Jess through the intercom. "Jess, please clear my schedule for the day, move everything around for the rest of the week to make room. I need you to pull Alana's entire file and then stop all work on your tablet. Also, when Agent Danvers arrives, show her in immediately." "Yes, Ms. Luthor." "Come see me when you have the file." "Right away."

Lena poured a glass of water and brought it to Kara, her gaze worried as the woman took a small sip.

“I'm really sorry.”

Lena frowned. “For what?”

“I didn't… this isn't exactly how I wanted to tell you.”

Lena lowered herself until she could catch Kara’s eye and took her hand gently. “We’ll talk about that later, when you're safe, okay?”

“I'm fine, now.”

“Not until Alex says so.”

Kara groaned, then tilted her head toward the office. “Jess just walked in.”

“Promise me you’ll sit here and rest.”

“I'm okay.”

“Humor me, Supergirl.”

Kara bit her lip. Lena’s words hadn't been particularly clipped but she was still dreading their later conversation. “I promise.”

“And no eavesdropping.”

“I wouldn't,” Kara tried to pout and look offended but she just seemed tired and when she saw the concern reflected in Lena’s eyes, she sighed. “I won't.”

“Thank you.”

******

When Jess knocked softly and then let herself in, she found Lena crouched outside near Kara, who was seated on a chair normally across from Lena's desk. Lena had the reporter’s hand in both of hers and was speaking softly, but Jess couldn't make out the words. Kara tilted her head toward the door, probably indicating to Lena that Jess was there, but Lena took her time, insisting on something to which Kara sighed audibly but nodded. Lena kissed the back of her knuckles, then stood and met Jess near her desk. "Is Ms. Danvers all right?" "She was feeling a little faint, she's doing better," Lena explained, and motioned for Jess to follow her onto the opposite side of the balcony. Kara had agreed not to use her superhearing, so Lena pitched her voice quietly. "I need a complete sweep of my office and you need to image your system and compare it to the day before Alana arrived. We need a full log of everything Alana did while she was here. Make a copy of her file and provide it to Agent Danvers when her team arrives." "We sweep each week," she reminded Lena softly. "That paperweight Alana gave me... it contained an illegal material," Lena explained, arching an eyebrow to tell Jess she couldn’t explain. "We need to find out everything." Jess glanced over to Kara and her eyes hardened at the thought of anyone harming the young reporter. "Yes, Ms. Luthor." "Quietly," she reminded, and Jess nodded. "Of course. I'll start now and show Agent Danvers in right away."

*****

Alex arrived with four other agents, two of whom were carrying what looked like a large safe. Jess pulled open the office doors and handed Alex a manila folder as she walked in, allowing all the agents to enter before closing the door and returning to her desk, completing the imaging of her systems.

The redhead stopped short when she saw her sister, in civilian clothes, sitting on the balcony. Lena was standing close beside her, stroking her hair as Kara rested her head against Lena’s side.

Alex cleared her throat.

Lena turned and, seeing the agents filling her office, leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of Kara’s head, whispering something in her ear.

Kara called out, “Alex, will you tell her I’m fine?”

Lena rolled her eyes fondly and pointed to her safe. “I’ll open it if your agents can contain it immediately. It’s a cube about six inches across. Does she need to move farther away?”

Alex shook her head. “We’ll be quick. Guys.” She motioned them near the safe and, averting their eyes for a moment as Lena entered the combination, they opened the heavy lead container and Alex reached inside the safe, grabbing the silver cube and depositing it in the containment unit, which was instantly slammed shut. “Take that out of here. The back stairs, not the elevator. Get it back to headquarters.”

The men nodded and as they opened the door to leave, Jess stepped inside, quietly informing Lena that the bug sweep of her office came back clean. Lena nodded and some of the tension in her shoulders eased.

“Begin scanning for any trace material left behind,” Alex told the remaining agents as Jess left the room. She waved the folder in her hand and looked to Lena. “What’s this?”

“That paperweight arrived in the mail this morning, a gift from a former assistant. That’s a copy of her file.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Thanks. We’ll need to look at your computer systems, as well.”

“That will be easier if I do it.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I already have Jess imaging everything, so I can get you a copy of the pertinent information there, but I can’t give you unfettered access into L-Corp’s network.”

“We can just hack in.”

Lena smirked. “Tell Winn he’s welcome to try.”

Kara sighed loudly. “Will you two stop fighting already? Lena, will you let Winn look at everything if he does it where you can watch him?”

“And he signs a non-disclosure agreement.”

“You’ve got a few to sign as well, you know,” Alex stated.

“Great. Awesome. NDAs for everybody.” Kara got to her feet and was immediately met with a hand on each arm. “I’m fine,” she insisted, but let the women guide her inside, smiling gently when Lena insisted on continuing to hold her hand. “Really, I’m feeling okay now.”

“You’re still going to sit under some sunlamps.”

“I know. Can we go?”

Alex glanced at Lena.

Kara squeezed Lena’s hand. “She’s coming with us. She’s going to help Winn go through L-Corp’s systems, remember?”

Alex sighed. “Alright, fine. Let me call ahead to J’onn.” Her gaze flickered over the two women, lingering on their joined hands and Kara’s arched eyebrow and none-too-subtle eye movements. “Be downstairs in ten minutes,” she said at last, turning on her heel and exiting the office.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then: “I’m sorry”.

Kara frowned as she realized they’d both spoken at the same time. “You have nothing to be sorry for, I’m the one who’s been lying to you.” She looked down at the floor, wincing when she realized she’d left cracks in the concrete from when she’d clawed against the pain.

“Kara, I scan every package that comes into the building, much less my office. We should have caught the Kryptonite. We’ll update our procedures immediately.” Lena tilted Kara’s chin until she met her gaze. “I’m sorry, love.”

“Hey, what,” Kara stammered, concerned at the tears forming in Lena’s eyes. “No, I’m okay, you didn’t know. Come here.” Kara pulled Lena into her arms and held her tightly. “It’s not your fault, okay? I’m fine. Listen, I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about being Supergirl. I just… you’ve always just seen me as me, not the superhero, and I kind of…” Kara sighed. “I kind of wanted that to last. But that, that’s selfish and not fair to you, and all those dates I had to rush out of, oh Rao, those lame excuses, I’m so sorry, Lena.”

Lena pulled back. “I still see you, Kara.” She stroked her cheek softly, smiling when Kara leaned into her touch. “It means I’ll watch the news coverage much more closely, but at least now I don’t have to worry about having a crush on Supergirl.”

Kara laughed. “You had a crush on Supergirl?”

“You’re Supergirl.”

“Yeah, but still. It’s the suit, huh?”

“You do look good in blue.” Lena kissed her cheek. “But I prefer what’s under the crest.”

“I always knew you liked my boobs.”

Lena shoved her, amused when Kara pretended to fall back a step. “I meant your heart.”

Kara grinned. “Does this mean you don’t like my boobs?”

“Is this really a conversation you want to start when we’re about to go sit in a car with your sister?”

Her smile fell. “Good point. No more boob talk, geez, babe.” When Lena rolled her eyes, Kara shifted closer and folded her into another hug, nuzzling her neck. “I love you.”

Lena wrapped her arms around her. “I love you, too. Come on. Let’s go get you under the, what did Alex call them, the sunlamps?” Kara nodded and kissed her shoulder. “Then Winn and I will go through the files. We’ll find out how Alana got her hands on Kryptonite. I promise.”

[higglety]

The (somehow, improbably) Ongoing Adventures of Bibigul and Gurgle

Ok guys, I gotta tell you what happened in our game last session, because I have never in my life had a plan go SO COMPLETELY OPPOSITE of the way I intended, and yet, somehow, still work.

Ok so quick recap:  the campaign concept is “One of you is the Hero of Legend; the others are not. Go out there and keep killing bad stuff until I dunno, one of you proves yourself or you all die or something.”  I’m playing Bibigul, a wildly impulsive halfling rogue/favored soul/swashbuckler, whose patron god is Olidammara, and who adheres very strongly to the idea that “whatever happens is destined to happen and it’ll all work out fine cuz I’m the hero of legend”.  We also have an elf Warlock whose whole schtick is knowing things, who has proven in actual play to know next to nothing, yet still be able to figure things out via sheer luck, a human scout who is extremely laid back and go-with-the-flow, and whose major character quirk has been a poorly-taxidermied snake with extreme sentimental value which he wears as a stinky belt, and Gurgule, my main man, an enormous bug-man who is a Barbarian (and, as of our last level-up, a summoner), who didn’t really dump Int Wis and Cha, so much as completely annihilate them.  

As you can see, our party is completely terrible, and that we’ve survived this far can be chalked up to sheer, blind, stupid luck.  It certainly couldn’t be attributed to any real skill or strategy employed by either we the players, or our characters.  In fact, the player who plays Gurgle and I have had backup characters made and ready to go for MONTHS now, because literally every session we almost die, and are absolutely certain that next session is when we finally kick the bucket.  The only uncertainty in our minds is whether we’ll accidentally force a TPK or not.  But I digress.

The session before last, we were offered a choice:  go kill the rest of the goblin horde who had been harassing a nearby town.  One relevant detail?  We had just come back from the neighboring town, which had been dealing with a zombie problem, and ran into the goblins on the way out.  We killed their leader, and a good chunk of their fighters.  This would be a mop-up mission, since we’d already accidentally done a good chunk of it.  OR, we could go help a halfling monastery that was being attacked by giants.  Because we’re idiots (and I, the idiot halfling who does not fear death, will take full responsibility for this), we pick the giants.  We pick the giants, by the way, because I talked the squad into accepting the result of a coin flip to decide the question.

So anyway, off we go to the monastery.  It’s a few day’s journey away, so we have a few random encounters along the way.  One of which happened on a bridge we had to cross.  As you might have guessed, we encountered trolls.  Now, they didn’t immediately attack us - they were gathering tolls, rather than dinner.  I felt confident that I could have talked our way through the encounter without having to fight, except - - - well, except for the fact that Gurgle had some past.... negative experiences with folks collecting tolls.  Long story short, he raged, they raged, we fought, it all got rather hairy there for a bit.  Fortunately I was able to talk everybody down and convince them to accept the human’s horse as a toll, and they let us go on our way.  This is very fortunate, because it became rapidly clear that there was no way we could have beaten these trolls.  (This doesn’t bode well for how the encounter with the giants is going to go, of course).

So then, as we travel along, we come to the next town.  We get a cordial welcome, which becomes even friendlier and more excited when they learn we’re the Heroes of Legend come from the Citadel.  The excitable halfling I had pulled aside to chat with informs EVERYONE that holy cow look!  It’s the Heroes of Legend come from the Citadel to save them from the problem they’d reported!  Hooray!!!  What was the problem, you ask?  TROLLS.

Now remember, I believe in luck.  I believe in fate.  I believe that no matter where I end up is exactly where I should be, and by the way, my dude Olidammara’s got my back.  I even have proof - along the way, we’d met a mysterious old beggar man who was Not What He Appears.  He had offered each of us a chance to play a challenge of skill, wits, or chance.  Our Scout chose chance, and lost his snake, to his great consternation (and the relief of the entire party).  The warlock gambled the party in a contest of wits, and only won because the player who plays Gurgle gave her a hint on one of the riddles, and I used my luck powers to force a reroll when the GM decided to roll a die to decide whether to accept her answer or not.  I, of course, chose a game of chance, and the old man granted my request to invoke my god ahead of time.  No, there was no cheating - just a simple appeal.  “Yo, Olidammara!  Hey dude, can you help me out here real quick?  Just gonna do a couple dice tosses, and it’s kinda important.  If you feel like it of course - no pressure.”  I figure of anyone, Olidammara is probably a god who appreciates a casual, low-key approach.  And he must have, because the old man rolled snake eyes thrice in a row, and I rolled high on each toss. Now, I had made the rookie mistake of not specifying terms ahead of time.  He wanted the enormous glowing, necromantic green gem I carry strapped to my torso like an magical crystalline pregnant belly.  I wanted.... him to not have it.  So, by way of a prize, the Mysterious Old Man assured me that the baby would be MINE.  Previously, it would been Not Mine, and that would have been Bad.  So anyway, the point of that anecdote was to illustrate that Olidammara’s got my back.

So, riding high on luck and fresh proof of my god’s interest in me and what all I get up to, I agree.  “Sure!”  I say, “We’ll make your troll problem go away!  No sweat!”  And we party the night away.  But, while’ we’re partying, I’m also making preparations.  I talk with the local halflings to get that hot gos, and I also buy the worst horse in town.  I’m ready.  

Next day, we go back out to the trolls.  I call out to them while we’re well away from the bridge, and tell them I want to talk, so they don’t ambush us.  They’re confused, but send one out to talk with us.  He reminds us that there is a toll to cross the bridge, and I assure him that I know that, and I didn’t actually want to cross the bridge, I just want a chat.  I ask him how the toll collecting business is going, and he says it’s going great!  Every few days, merchants come through, the trolls kill their guards, and the merchants give them money!  It’s fantastic!  There’s no end in sight!  I probe to see if they’ve noticed the merchant traffic slowing, as the town has, and they have not.  As far as they’re concerned, this is a viable situation that will continue indefinitely.  I clue them in on a secret, that there are giants to the north that have just PILES of gold, but they’re not having it.  I took the wrong tactic, I immediately realize - the trolls don’t want big targets, they want easy targets.  In my desire to steer the trolls to the giants and so benefit by them fighting each other, I fail to motivate them in a way they will accept.  Even bribing them with another horse to eat isn’t going to get them to budge, I immediately realize.  Fortunately, Gurgle had another moment of inspiration (the last of which was making an enormous explosion, so I’m On Board), saw what I was trying to do, and was able to talk with them On Their Level.

“You know what I heard,”  he tells them very seriously.  “I heard there’s halflings in the mountains, and they have gold.  PILES of gold.  They’re pilgrims, so they take the gold up to their gods, and they just leave them there!”

“Really?”  the troll is intrigued, but wary.  “But the bridge is right here.  Why should we leave the bridge?”

“Think about it,” says Gurgle.  “Not everybody uses bridges.  Bridges are ok, but even people who have never used a bridge can name two, even three gods!  And people give gold to gods.  Look at me!  I don’t have any gold, because I gave it all to the gods!”  The troll finds this to be a very compelling argument.  “Besides, you can just eat the halflings, too!  It’s not like it’ll be hard to kill them, they’re all small and squishy.”  At this point, I voluntarily roll a will save to keep my mouth shut.  Fortunately for us all, I succeed.  “Good cooks, too - they always have good food.  Here, look!”  I’m ready for this, because I see where he’s going with this, and I produce a bucket of ogre slop I’ve been carrying around in case it comes in handy.  Whaddaya know, it did!  

The trolls LOVE the ogre slop, and they think Gurgle is talking good sense.  They are convinced.  They set off north to the halflings in the mountains.  The path to which runs directly through the town we just came from.  Crap.  I ride on ahead as fast as I can like a demented Paul Revere to warn the town to stay indoors for the next little while.

“But why?”  One man asked.  “You said you were going to kill all the trolls, right?”  

“We’re solving your troll problem”  I reply tersly.  “So the trolls are all dead?”

“WE ARE MAKING THEM GO AWAY NOW PLEASE GO INSIDE.”  I am out of time.  I roll Diplomacy, and crit.  They go inside.  A few minutes later, a parade of trolls trundles through the town, off (unknowingly) to do battle with giants.  What will happen if any of them survive the giants and decide to start eating halflings and looking for gold?  I guess we’ll figure that out when we get to it.  

HEROES OF LEGEND

[kythen]

Haikyuu!! - first,

Title: first,

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Kurodai

Summary: Kurodai Week Day 1: First Meeting / Next Time. Daichi and Kuroo meet and fall in love along the way. It’s as simple as that. Also found here on AO3.

Word count: 2,889

vii.

“Can I kiss you?” Kuroo blurts out.

His eyes are searching, over-bright, reflecting the glow from the beat-up television set before them. The glow washes over the rest of his face, bathing it in every other colour as the movie keeps playing, but somehow, Daichi knows that Kuroo’s face is burning bright red under it all. He is trembling, or maybe Daichi is—it is hard to tell when the both of them are wrapped up together in the same blanket on the sofa, their shoulders pressed against each other.

Daichi means to say “yes”, a proper reply to the proper question Kuroo just asked, but Daichi is already leaning over, his lips meeting Kuroo’s in the middle, his fingers closing around Kuroo’s to draw him nearer.

—

iv.

Tokyo is big and sprawling and loud, and the only thing that keeps Daichi from getting lost is, unfortunately, Kuroo.

The Nekoma captain—ex-captain, Daichi reminds himself forcefully because this isn’t high school any longer—walks before him, leading the way and turning around occasionally to make sure that Daichi is still with him. The number of times he does this annoys Daichi because it isn’t as if Daichi will get swept up in the crowd like a kid if he isn’t careful. Sure, he is used to the wide, open roads of Miyagi with only the occasional rumble of traffic, but this doesn’t mean that he can’t adapt. He has to, seeing that Tokyo will be his home for the next four years, and possibly a long unforeseeable future.

Daichi kind of wants to go home already.

“We’re here.” Kuroo stops before an apartment block, turning on his heel with an elaborate gesture. He grins.

“Apartment 402?” Daichi asks him, scanning the rows of apartments, trying to make out the tiny numbers on the doorplates.

“That’s the one,” Kuroo says, walking over to tug at Daichi’s luggage. “There’s no elevator so we’re going to have to lug this all the way up.”

Daichi grimaces and he lets Kuroo help him carry his luggage all the way up four flights of creaky steps. Kuroo leaves him at the landing, making straight for apartment 402 with familiar steps and pulling out a key holder at the door. There are two keys on it and he picks one off, tossing it to Daichi as he rolls his luggage along.

“Home, sweet home,” Kuroo proclaims as he unlocks the door and switches on the lights.

Daichi heaves his luggage into the narrow entryway, a wave of homesickness washing over him as he takes his first look at his new home. The door shuts behind him and a hand touches his back, not meaning to startle but doing just that anyway.

Kuroo drops his hand, walking past Daichi into the living room. “That’s my room” —he points at a door with a fish-shaped nameplate on it spelling out Kuroo’s name— “and that’s yours.”

Daichi’s door is bare and he nods before wheeling his luggage in, not trusting himself to speak with the homesick sick feeling still in him. His room isn’t much, just a bed, a desk, and a closet, all that a university student would need for the coming days. He sits on the bed and the springs creak under him, too loud in the empty room.

“Hey, Sawamura,” Kuroo says, leaning against the doorframe and Daichi glances up at him, startling again and wincing right after that. He was never this twitchy in Miyagi.

Kuroo tosses something small over and Daichi catches it out of instinct more than anything, his hands fumbling on the blunt edges. It is a nameplate, the same size as Kuroo’s fish-shaped one, only that this one is in the shape of a rice ball. Daichi looks up again, his hands stilling on the nameplate.

“It reminded me of you,” Kuroo says with a grin, “eating your way through the BBQ on the last day of training camp. I think you single-handedly caused a rice shortage that day.”

“I wasn’t the one who tried grilling fish over the fire and stank up the whole place,” Daichi retorts.

“It was delicious. You were totally missing out,” Kuroo replies, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Come on, get out of here and I’ll show you what you were missing out on that day.”

“Please tell me you aren’t going to grill fish in our apartment,” Daichi says, standing up and following Kuroo out of the room, slipping the nameplate in his pocket. He’ll write his name on it later and stick it up before he sleeps.

“Ha,” Kuroo snorts, raising his eyebrows over his shoulder as he leads the way to the kitchen, “what makes you think I haven’t already done that.”

—

ii.

If Daichi has to do one more lap of flying falls, he might just give in to the urge to punch Kuroo right in his smirking face.

He had sensed it in their first match against Nekoma, that Kuroo Tetsurou was going to be a huge pain in the ass. During matches, he is a menace, positioning himself just right for blocks and receives, his one-man time difference attacks messing up their rhythm. After matches, he gets worse, smirking at Daichi as he leads Karasuno in a lap of flying falls across the court.

“You sure like your penalties, don’t you, Sawamura?” Kuroo has the audacity to say as Daichi drops into a flying fall and Daichi slaps the floor harder than necessary, visualising Kuroo’s face under his palm.

After he rises from the floor, Kuroo is still watching him, turning away with great exaggeration and a parting smirk as Daichi glares at him.

“I’ve never seen Daichi this pissed off for so long,” he hears Asahi’s worried murmur behind him.

“It’s the Nekoma captain,” Suga whispers back and Daichi can hear the amusement in his voice. “He just knows how to rub Daichi the wrong way.”

“Intentionally?”

“Probably. But Daichi’s kind of dumb for falling for it all the time.”

“Get ready for the next match!” Daichi turns around and roars at his team, turning his glare on Asahi and Suga. “We’re going to win the next one!”

“We’re up against Nekoma next,” Suga tells him, unfazed, and that sends a shiver of excitement through the team. While all the teams here pose a massive challenge to them, there is just something about facing off against Nekoma, their fated rivals, that makes the idea of Nationals feel all the more real.

“Good,” Daichi says grimly, looking out across the court and fixing his gaze on Kuroo’s back. “We’ll beat them too. We can’t be the only ones doing penalties all the time.”

—

v.

They don’t have all that much time for volleyball now that they are in their third year of university.

Kuroo disappears for hours, sometimes days at length, cooping himself up in the labs at the science block. Daichi knows where to find Kuroo when he has been gone for too long, mustering up his last bit of strength to drag Kuroo back home to a bed and a decent meal. It isn’t that Daichi has it any easier than Kuroo with his endless number of papers to write, but it is just that Daichi remembers what human beings need for survival better than Kuroo.

“Sleep,” Daichi orders him after Kuroo chews his way absently through a poorly prepared meal of rice, instant miso soup, and canned fish. Daichi had stocked up on canned saury in five different flavours the moment he saw it on sale, even though he knows that Kuroo whines about it not being as good as fresh saury. It is not as if Kuroo is in any position to be cooking fish anyway.

“I have reports to do,” Kuroo mumbles, pushing around the last bit of rice in his bowl, his eyelids heavy.

“After you sleep,” Daichi tells him, taking his utensils and dishes out of his hands and dumping them in the sink. “Not at the table,” he adds as Kuroo’s eyelids slide shut, his head drooping down towards the table.

Kuroo gets up from the table, his joints cracking in a way that has Daichi wincing in sympathy, his feet shuffling as he makes his way out of the kitchen, zombie-like. Daichi clears the rest of the table, eyeing the filled sink with great reluctance. Later, he convinces himself as he washes his hands and tries not to make eye contact with the dirty dishes. Like Kuroo, he just needs a quick nap and then he will be ready to be responsible again. Maybe.

Daichi leaves the kitchen for his room, yawning widely. But he doesn’t quite make it there, stopping in the living room to stare down at their sofa.

Kuroo is curled up on the sofa, his mouth hanging open as he snores softly, already fast asleep. He is too tall to fit properly and his feet dangle off the edge, his knees folded in against his body. He looks uncomfortable and Daichi sighs, leaving Kuroo to complain about his body aches after he wakes.

But Daichi does return briefly to throw a blanket over him, tugging a corner over Kuroo’s bare feet before he retreats to his room to nap on a proper bed.

—

iii.

Kuroo keeps looking for him in between practice matches. Daichi knows now to fend him off with gritted teeth and forced smiles, biting back when Kuroo teases him about the number of penalties Karasuno has been steadily racking up.

But it isn’t always like that, all throughout the day, and there are moments when Kuroo lays off the teasing and just… talks.

It is like that now with the both of them stretched out on the hill, watching as the sun dips into the horizon and turns the sky a warm sunset orange. Daichi could fall asleep right here and now, if not for Kuroo’s voice keeping him just out of unconsciousness.

After their last penalty for the day, Daichi hadn’t bothered to move as the rest of his team left for food or the showers, lying back against the grass and doing his best impression of a dead body. Suga had nudged him with a foot on his way past him and Daichi hadn’t so much as twitched.

“Daichi, you’re gonna get bitten by bugs,” Suga had warned him before heading back in.

There were bugs, which Daichi had swatted off with a lazy hand, but there was also Kuroo, who came climbing up the hill in search of Daichi. He brought Daichi’s water bottle along so Daichi decided that he could stay. It wasn’t like he had any energy left to shoo something as big as Kuroo away anyway.

Besides, if Daichi was being honest with himself, Kuroo had become good company over the course of the training camp. He teased just as much, but he was also sensible enough, as long as Bokuto was not around, talking about volleyball tactics or school or just plain old gossip about their juniors. It was nice to be around him, which is why Daichi doesn’t look for reasons to leave Kuroo or chase him off.

“Are you going to make it back to the gym?” Kuroo asks him, amused. He still smirks, but Daichi had gotten used to it somewhere along the way.

“Yes,” Daichi answers with his eyes closed, “eventually.”

He hears rustling beside him and he opens his eyes a crack to see Kuroo settling down next to him, looking up into the sky. “You know, maybe you’ve got the right idea here. It is kind of nice.”

“It’s the optimal recovery position after penalties.”

“You would know,” Kuroo teases.

“I thought it would be nice to share, seeing that your team racked up the most number of penalties after us.”

“Are you always this kind?”

“Not as kind as you, from what I’ve heard from our first years.”

Kuroo laughs and they lapse into a peaceful kind of silence. Daichi knows that they should be getting up soon for self-practice or dinner or whatever it is, but it is getting harder to leave this spot on the hill.

Training camp is ending and soon it will be the Spring Inter-Highs, followed closely by Nationals. Then graduation and university and the big unknown. Becoming one with the grass and the ground instead of getting up and facing all of that is beginning to look more appealing to Daichi all of a sudden.

“The next time you come back to Tokyo,” Kuroo starts, interrupting his thoughts.

“It’ll be for Nationals,” Daichi says firmly.

“Of course,” Kuroo replies, just as confidently. “But if you ever find yourself in Tokyo for a non-Nationals reason and you need someone to show you around, I just wanted to say that you could always give me a call. Don’t be a stranger after high school ends, Sawamura.”

There are universities in Tokyo that Daichi is considering and it would be nice to have someone he knows around. A friend.

“I’ll take you up on that,” Daichi says.

—

vi.

It is four years after their days of high school volleyball when Daichi realises that he isn’t going to leave Tokyo anytime soon. He has a new job lined up for him after graduation and he still pays rent for the apartment that Kuroo and him live in. Kuroo is thinking of furthering his studies but he works part-time jobs to put in his share of the rent, as well as to contribute to food and groceries and other miscellaneous things needed for two young adults sharing the same living space.

Rental DVDs are one such need, especially on Friday nights when both of their schedules are free. It has become something of a habit, developed over years of living together, for the both of them to marathon movies long into the night on Fridays. Sometimes, if the movie is particularly bad, they run commentary about it or talk about other things going on in their lives. It isn’t just about volleyball or school anymore when the world has gotten so much bigger after high school.

In a way, Daichi is glad that Kuroo is here, that he had extended a hand to Daichi before Karasuno and Nekoma went their separate ways and became fond memories of the past. The first years then would be in university or even working now. He hears from them sometimes but they don’t get to meet up that often, seeing that most of the old Karasuno team have split up to pursuit their own futures.

Daichi makes his way out of the kitchen and into the living room, navigating the dark by the glow of the television screen. When he reaches the sofa, Kuroo is huddled down on it with a blanket, which he peels back as Daichi sits down on the sofa. He doesn’t mind when Kuroo leans against him as the movie plays, his head fully on Daichi’s shoulder before half of it is even over.

It isn’t a bad movie this time, despite being some no name sci-fi film Kuroo had picked out at random, but Daichi finds himself being distracted anyway. Kuroo’s hair tickles his neck, his munching loud in his ear and his shoulder one big warm spot against Daichi’s side. His hand had fallen into Daichi’s lap at some point of time and he is one tiny movement away from sitting right on top of Daichi.

This is life for him now, Daichi realises as he looks at the television screen without really watching it, tied up inextricably in Kuroo’s life. He has known him for five years and lived with him for four, and while that is an impressive or unimpressive number of years depending on who he asks, he can’t imagine how life would be without Kuroo by his side.

“Daichi?” Kuroo says, warm and soft against his side, bundled up in most of the blanket. He has eaten all of the popcorn that he was supposed to share with Daichi and he gets the empty bag out of the way, somewhat guiltily, as he turns to look at him.

If he meets Kuroo’s gaze now, Daichi thinks that Kuroo might be able to guess his thoughts, reading it right off his face like he has been able to do at times.

Daichi breathes in, his chest rising minutely. He feels steady, grounded by a certainty that whatever comes next, he wants it to happen.

“Daichi?” Kuroo asks again. The hand in Daichi’s lap touches his thigh, warmth radiating off his fingertips.

Daichi turns and faces Kuroo.

—

i.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.”

“Sawamura Daichi.”

Their hands meet in the middle, clasping each other firmly in a good handshake before letting go.

Daichi looks into the eyes of the Nekoma captain, Kuroo Tetsurou, and refuses to be intimidated. He has to tilt his head up slightly, which annoys him a bit, but it doesn’t override the feelings of excitement and anticipation rising up in his chest.

Kuroo smiles, or smirks really, his face carefully pleasant. He opens his mouth to address his team at the same time that Daichi does, just as wary of the rival captain by his side as Daichi is, and their voices overlap as they give the command to go.

[the-spoony-bard]

A Matter of Leverage - 4

Fandom: Fire Emblem Awakening

Style: Leverage!AU; modern setting; adventure/drama

Word count: 2,995

Read on Ao3

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

 Anna rolls her eyes as her secretary nervously wrings her hands.

 “It’s very simple,” Anna says, only growing more jumpy as she speaks. “Yeah, I’ve ticked them off and they want to get back at me, but still, this is just sloppy. Such a great opportunity the same week as my shareholder’s meeting? And then the bug, the fake offices, the cash bribe, and Feroxis? Bloody Feroxis? Like one of those ridiculous email scams about Feroxi bank fraud or something!”

 Anna pauses to take a quick sip of her cappuccino before she continues, more worked up than her secretary has ever seen her. “Who do they take me for? I am no fool! And not a dog dragged around on a leash either! All that alcohol must have made Robin forgetful. I’m going to remind them that it is Anna they’re dealing with!”

 “Yes, Ms. Levin,” Anna’s secretary says meekly.

 ○

 Anna laughs with the others as they make a toast to such a successful meeting. She looks back to send her secretary a wink before drinking her champagne. Even as Robin and her crew move out, Olivia meeting up with the Feroxis, Anna rests securely on her own plans. Most pressingly, the highly successful presentation she’d finished moments before pitching her new airplanes to the shareholders. One approaches as she turns her attention back to the catered dinner on the large balcony.

 “I would say this has been a good day for us all,” the shareholder says. “The stock’s gone up fifteen points since the announcement.”

 “Oh?” Anna says knowingly, sipping at her champagne.

 “You didn’t know? Perhaps I’ll pass it around.”

 They both nod respectfully as he departs and Anna looks over the party.

 “Don’t you look happy?” Olivia’s Feroxi accent drifts over. Anna slides on a smile.

 “Does it show?”

 “You have a horrible poker face.”

 “Guilty as charged,” Anna laughs, more to herself than anyone. She looks over Olivia’s shoulder at the Feroxis who arrived with her, just as smartly dressed as before. “How about we get this business done?”

 “Now?” Olivia says with surprise.

 “You heard me,” Anna finishes off her champagne and sets it on the tray of a passing server.

 “You have the payment then?” Olivia asks, sounding impressed.

 “Yes. Let’s make this deal. It’s perfect timing for me to announce it now and get even bigger headlines.” Anna grins to herself as Olivia looks back, unsure for just a moment. “We can duck into a conference room for just a moment, away from all this. Let’s do it.”

 “Alright,” Olivia says slowly, giving Anna the impression she’s been knocked off her script. “Just let me go tell them.”

 Anna gives her secretary a thumbs up before Olivia comes back, the group of Feroxis in tow. Anna leads them inside, spreading out her arms as they walk into the conference room.

 “Gentlemen, come in! Come in!” she says welcomingly. “Please, make yourselves comfortable!”

 “Thank you,” the Feroxi who is clearly the head says as they all settle down around the long table. Anna remains standing at the head, hands on the back of the chair as she leans forward predatorily. “I take it we all understand the terms of this agreement?”

 “I’ll tell you the exact terms of this agreement,” Anna presses a button on the table phone, leaning back with her arms crossed loosely over her chest. She watches with the utmost pride as more men enter the room.

 “FBI,” the first agent to enter announces. “Don’t move.”

 “Are you alright, sir?” another asks as a few more enter from the door on the other side of the room behind Anna.

 “Yeah, I am,” the head Feroxi replies.

 “What?” Anna says incredulously, jumping in alarm as the FBI agents behind her grab hold of her arms. “What? What are you—wait a minute!” She shakes herself roughly from the agents’ grasps, pointing ahead blindly at Olivia and the Feroxis. “What are you looking at me for? Your criminals are sitting right over there.”

 A couple of the Feroxis raise their eyebrows. Anna looks around desperately before turning to the agents behind her.

 “Look, I spoke with Special Agent Douglas. If you just get him on the phone he—”

 “I’m Special Agent Douglas,” one of the agents she was speaking to holds up his badge. He continues as she gapes at him wordlessly. “Anna Levin, you are under arrest for soliciting a bribe from these Feroxi Government Officials.”

 “But—” Anna stutters as the Feroxis all rise from their seats to exit the room. “I—I’m—you can’t—can’t just—they’re not even real Feroxis!”

 “Of course we are,” the head Feroxi says angrily, holding up his own official identification. “Your woman knew that when she contacted us last week.”

 “My…?” Anna looked around the room, noticing one person that was not present. “Feena?”

 Everyone present exchanged looks with each other as Anna brought her hands to her face, letting out a deep breath. When she brought her hands back down, she gave the entire room a plastic smile.

 “Special Agent Douglas, Feena Shin works for them.”

 “That’s complete bull!” the Feroxi returned. “She contacted us on your behalf!”

 “Said that she worked directly under you,” another Feroxi added.

 Olivia stepped forward, holding out her hand with a pleasant smile. Even better was her firm handshake. Any Feroxi worth his salt could tell a person’s integrity through the quality of their handshake.

 “Feena Shin,” she supplied them, her accent giving away she’d lived in the Feroxi province herself. “From Levin Company, directly under Anna Levin.”

 “But—” Anna’s hands gesticulate wordlessly as she tries to wrap her head around her present predicament. “No, I—She… she took me to their office!”

 “No!” the Feroxi shouts again. “We don’t have any offices in this city!”

 Douglas looks to Anna expectantly, looking like a person expecting to hear a ridiculous theory. Anna’s eyes light up as she starts filling in the blanks of Robin’s scheme.

 “Exactly! You don’t have an office!”

 “That’s why we met at your other office,” the Feroxi says, sounding no more patient than he did before.

 “My other…?”

 Lon’qu pulled the drill away, not even having time to admire his handiwork before the elevator dinged. He ducked out of sight as the Feroxis stepped out. They paused to look at the sign declaring the office space to belong to Anna Levin of Levin Co. with her senior assistant Feena Shin.

 Olivia stepped out of the office at once, shaking each of the men’s hands again.

 “Feena Shin, Levin Company.”

 Anna gulps, staring blankly ahead into space. She looked up suddenly as the rest of the room watched incredulously.

 “The shareholders!” Anna exclaims, dashing out of the room back to the dinner party on the balcony, the Feroxis and FBI agents in hot pursuit.

 The shareholders had all gathered by the edge of the balcony to look down. Police cars pull over, sirens blaring. FBI agents pile out, running over as numerous shareholders try questioning them about what’s going on. Anna dashes onto the scene in growing horror.

 “No, no, no, no, no!” she calls, waving her arms around in an attempt to capture her guests’ attention. “Can I have your attention please?”

 “Anna, what is going on?” a shareholder asks, frustrated.

 “It’s no big deal, just a permit problem,” Anna waves him off. “It’s nothing, really. A simple misunderstanding!”

 “Is anybody else here involved in the bribe?” Special Agent Douglas calls over her loudly.

 “Bribe?!” the shareholder exclaims.

 “There’s no bribe!” Anna says, trying to sound casual but failing.

 “I handed this woman an envelope containing a cashier’s check for two hundred thousand dollars!” the Feroxi says pointedly.

 “No! Oh, no, no!” Anna turns around on the Feroxi before turning back to the shareholders and Special Agent Douglas pleadingly. “There was no—I wasn’t handed any…” She stops, knowing all too well that ‘Feena Shin’ had handed over an envelope from the Feroxi the day before.

 “This would have looked a lot better for you if you hadn’t deposited that check,” Special Agent Douglas says with all the weight of a judge. “Do you still have it?”

 “No, of course not! I didn’t get a check! She—she must have switched envelopes or something!”

 “Sir,” another agent steps up to stand beside Douglas. “We have people searching the lab now, seizing those files and computers.”

 “Anna, there are news reporters pulling up…” the shareholder says warningly.

 “No, you can’t take my computer!” Anna cries as Douglas scoffs.

 “This company has government defense contracts,” Douglas replies. “There’s rules concerning contact with foreign officials.”

 “Okay,” Anna says hurriedly. “I think we’re all getting a little ahead of ourselves here! I’m just gonna—excuse me…”

 Anna runs back inside as her assistants hurriedly shred all of the documents in view.

 “Where do I put it?!” one shouts, a bin full of shredded paper clutched in his arms.

 “Anywhere that’s not here!” the secretary cries.

 He promptly empties it out the window as more FBI agents enter the building. Robin, Olivia, Gaius, Lon’qu, and Nowi—all appropriately dressed in FBI jackets—pass them by as they walk out, each holding a bin or two of documents to be seized. Gaius elbows Nowi to stop her from giggling. They load everything up in a van before driving off, leaving the FBI to their work and Anna to her disaster.

 ○

 The shutters are drawn as a woman with long, raven hair stands at the window, hands clasped together behind her back. She turns slowly as Robin’s footsteps announce her arrival.

 “I came alone as you requested,” she says.

 “And I thank you for that, Say’ri.”

 Robin comes to stand beside her at the window, holding a briefcase at her side.

 “I’ve come to understand that your research at Wyvern was wiped clean. I have complete copies here on these hard drives along with proof that they were on Levin Company computers. That should be more than enough for a lawsuit or two, I’m sure.”

 “I will see that we will drop all investigation into the incident surrounding the original theft,” Say’ri nods.

 “That sounds fair to me, now that your property’s back.”

 “There will be no charges,��� Say’ri continues. “Nothing on you or your people.”

 Robin nods, then hands over the briefcase. She is walking off when Say’ri calls after her.

 “You don’t want any money?”

 “We’ve got money covered,” Robin says as she walks out the door.

 ○

 “In a massive selloff sparked by multiple federal investigations of Levin Company, the stock plummeted a shocking thirty-three percent before trading was halted,” the news station reports.

 Anna watches with a foul expression in her office, slouched in her chair with only a couple agents left cleaning up and talking to her secretary outside. She mimics the anchorman’s voice as her cellphone begins buzzing. It rings a few times before she finally sighs and answers.

 “Yeah,” she says numbly.

 “You really should have just paid us,” Robin says matter-of-factly.

 Anna immediately sits up straight, a thousand questions running through her mind.

 “But I found your transmitter!” she exclaims, about to go on a tirade when Robin interrupts.

 “No, you found the transmitter with the blinking light. We needed you to figure at least part of it out. From there we just gave you what you expected.”

 “You know who I am. There’s not a thing that can keep Anna down. I’m going to beat this.”

 “Oh, but what about that little bribe thing going on?”

 “Who cares about that? They can’t prove anything! Not when I didn’t get any money.”

 “We’ve hit the jackpot,” one of the agents says from behind Anna, rifling through her desk. He pulls out a hidden box stuffed to the brim with cash. Anna pales as Robin continues.

 “Oh, sure what we left you doesn’t account for all of it. Olivia kept a little to buy a staggering amount of dancing shoes. Apparently you need a different type for each discipline. Who knew, right?”

 “Don’t forget our stop to the candy store!” Gaius adds, leaning over. Robin pushes his face away from the phone.

 “What happens if I stick two lollipops in my mouth at once?” Nowi reaches over.

 “Knock yourself out, kid,” Gaius hands her two.

 “Anyway,” Robin says a little more loudly to talk over them, “if a company’s stock price drops ten, maybe fifteen percent, in just one day and you see it coming, you sell short and make a lot of money off of it. If it falls thirty percent, well, let’s just say, you’re looking at sums so ridiculous you can fill swimming pools with them.” Anna makes a choked little noise on the phone. “So we didn’t need the FBI to take you to jail. We just needed them to show up and take boxes out of your office, day in, day out, in front of the entire world thanks to TV cameras. Scaring off potential investors, you know. At this point, you going to jail would be nothing more than a little bow on top of the Christmas present of your failure.

 “Oh, and one more thing, Anna dear? Say anything about us to your new babysitters, and next time we won’t be so nice.”

 Robin hangs up, allowing herself a self-satisfied grin. She looks around at the park they’d met at once before after the first job where they’d promised no sequels. Nowi, two lollipop sticks dangling from her mouth like walrus tusks, hands around envelopes. Olivia nearly stumbles when she opens hers up.

 “Woah…” Robin manages as she looks at the funds transferred to her account, sure that somewhere along the line someone misplaced a few zeroes.

 “Well, I was a little bored so I poked around in the London stock market too,” Nowi explains. Robin distinctly thinks how glad she is Nowi is on her side, because she could take the whole world down if she wanted to. “There was some overlapping.”

 “This is the score of the century,” Gaius says with uncharacteristic reverence. “I could kiss you.”

 Nowi waves a hand with fake bashfulness before pointing to her cheek. Gaius produces a bag of Hershey’s kisses from his backpack and shoves them at her. Nowi pouts, but can’t keep it up for long before dissolving into laughter.

 “You were right,” Lon’qu says. He nods respectfully when Robin looks at him.

 “You c-can always count on Robin to get the job done,” Olivia adds in her quiet little voice, hand still resting above her heart while the other clutches her envelope.

 “So,” Nowi says, drawing out the vowel. “This is it, then? We never have to work a day in our lives with money like this!”

 Robin takes a shaky breath, staring down again at her newfound fortune, nicely summed up on a folded piece of paper.

 “It was a pleasure working with all of you,” she says.

 To her surprise, the others all hesitate.

 “A onetime deal,” Lon’qu says, as much to himself as everyone else.

 “Yeah,” Gaius adds. “No encore. No sequel.”

 “I-I’ve already forgotten w-who you all are,” Olivia says, an edge of emotion in her voice.

 Robin nods once more and they all leave, going separate ways. Robin adjusts her jacket so it hugs her tighter, not looking back. She’s been walking for barely a minute when Nowi is jogging up to her.

 “Okay, so I’ve never really had so much fun with a job like that before,” she says hurriedly.

 “Nowi, we’re all walking away.”

 “And I’ve always had a hard time focusing on just one thing but you really helped me stay on task and we really accomplished something!” Nowi presses on.

 “I’m good at what I do,” Lon’qu is suddenly there, cutting in while poor Robin still attempts to keep walking away.

 “Lon’qu, no.”

 “It’s about all I do. Retiring isn’t an option for me, but I can admit I have my blind spots and—”

 “You wanna know what I think, Bubbles?”

 “Not really,” Robin says, doggedly trying to remain detached despite three people chasing after her.

 “How long is it gonna be before you fall apart again, huh?”

 “How thoughtful of you.”

 “See, you can’t just drop everything,” Gaius throws his hands up, nearly hitting Nowi in the face. “Someone like you can’t just drop out of the game. You need something to keep your mind moving or you’re done!”

 “I’m sure I can figure it out,” Robin says blankly, pausing as her phone rings. “Hello?”

 The person on the other end doesn’t speak, but she doesn’t have to. Robin looks over to the bench ahead of them where Olivia sits staring right at her, phone up to her ear. Robin sighs, putting her phone back in her pocket as Olivia does the same. She walks over so that she’s standing in front of them, cheeks flushed red.

 “Y-you’re the only real friend I have, y-you know.”

 Robin looks guiltily off to the side before she gives in to Olivia’s sad face.

 “I-it could work. You’d pick the jobs for us.”

 “But that’s not what I do,” Robin says stubbornly. “My job is to help people… to take down bad guys.”

 “I-is… is that not what we just did?” Olivia says, suddenly firm. “You can find more. You’re good at finding people. A-and bad guys have money, like what we want.”

 Robin sighs again, pinching the bridge of her nose. She stands at a crossroad, knowing that whichever path she takes does not come with the option of going back. She takes a few more steps forward, slow and measured so she can turn around to face them all.

 “I pick the jobs.”

 Olivia looks relieved as Nowi cheers, Gaius grins, and even Lon’qu cracks a smile. Robin wonders what her family would think.

 Morgan would have loved it.