#now I have a cockroach on my screen that will distract me even more from what I have to do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Tell Me It’s Not Too Late

(Sequel to Switchblade)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Heartbreak, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: When is it considered ‘too late’ when it comes to expressing feelings? Is there even a time limit? Is the chance only momentary - is it a second that passes you by with no possibility of returning? All Corpse can do is hope that’s not the case. Cause if it is.....he’d rather not think about that.

Requested - sort of, but not in a typical way. Thank you to all the readers of ‘Switchblade’ that wanted to see the story have an ending that’d lead to a new start. Here it is, guys! Hope it lives up to what you expected. Love you all to the moon and back. 💖💖💖

I end my stream after almost three hours of constant scares. I sigh, slipping the headset off my ears so it’s hanging around my neck. I don’t feel that fulfilling feeling that I’m always met with upon ending a stream. I look at the countless scratches and little holes on the surface of my desk - evidence of the fear and frustration I experience while playing certain games. Not all of them are caused by that, however - Coming home after possibly the most humiliating night of my life, that desk and a few other pieces of furniture suffered my wrath and are now decorated with stab wounds that were a result of uncontrollable rage, hurt, self-hatred and self-pity. It took me a while to put an end to my hazardous, switchblade wielding rampage throughout my house, but the tears didn’t stop until the early morning hours.

I didn’t care that my feelings weren’t reciprocated. That was and is the least of my troubles. The most amount of hurt comes from the fact that I ruined something wonderful for myself. Corpse is the only person I’ve felt this close to all my life and now, due to my own poor decision making, I no longer have him. He no longer wants to be a part of the shit-show that is my life. Especially not now that he knows how messy things get when I show my forever-hidden feelings. I can’t blame him. I know I’d be running for the hills if I were him. He deserves a person who knows what’s going on in their life. Who has themselves and their surroundings figured out. Not someone who has an irregular streaming schedule and catches feelings for her best friend, ruining the friendship altogether in the process.

As I stand up from my chair, accidentally hitting the handle of the switchblade on the edge of my desk. I look down at it and how tightly I’m holding it. I seem to not be able to let go of it. Almost like I see it as my last bit of link to Corpse. The remnants of the connection I felt between us.

Maybe I should return it.

No, that’d be weird. I’d either have to go over there and give it back or send it via mail which is worse. It just feels like a harsh gesture - mailing something so meaningful as though it’s as worthless as the bills people get in the mail. I can’t send it through others, I don’t want anyone else getting involved. The more people know, the more real it is.

I’m aware I’m being both overdramatic and irrational, but you have to understand how much pain I’m in. I can’t guarantee the pain will go away or even lessen if I let this switchblade go, but it’s the only thing I haven’t tried.

Only problem is - I can’t let it go. I can’t find it in me to destroy it or throw it away. A part of me is willing to take the suffering of keeping it just cause it wants to hold on to that little connection it resembles. It’s evidence it existed to begin with. I believe it’s worth the pain. The hurt will go away eventually, but the memories are forever. I’ll look back at the time I had an amazing person such as Corpse to call ‘best friend’ and I’ll have something to prove to myself that it wasn’t a fever dream.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.“ I mumble as I finally uncurl my fingers from around the damn thing and put in down on my desk.

I take the headset off and proceed to head out onto the balcony to light what I call a ‘stress cigarette’. I’m not a regular smoker, but when everything just caves, I prefer to resort to a quick puff rather than grabbing a drink. I can say no to a second cigarette but not to a second drink. That second will then turn into a third and so on. And I don’t trust myself when drunk. I don’t personally know, but I’ve been told I’m rather unpredictable.

For the first few seconds while I’m standing there I don’t notice the pouring rain by some strange miracle. I can only focus on the chill of the breeze and the fresh breath that’s finally entering my lungs. I take a moment to breathe in the cool air before I start mixing it with the cigarette smoke.

With my eyes closed, I hear more than I feel the rain on me. Storm noises always distract me from the actual storm, they calm me down. However, the sudden loud thunder causes me to open my eyes in a matter of milliseconds. I frown, slightly upset that I didn’t catch glimpse of the lightning that the thunder probably followed.

I’m not upset for too long, though. A lightning flashes right opposite me, creating the most mesmerizing of pattern you can see in the night sky during a storm. It’s so bright, it allows me to see my whole, usually unlit garden perfectly in that second or two it graces the sky.

Wait

My balcony has a clear view of my entire front yard and all it takes a glance to the left to be able to see the front doorstep.

Don’t freak yourself out, it’s just a trick of the light

I stay quiet and as still as a statue as I await another flash of lightning, my heart speeding past the point of a healthy pulse and into the realm of a near heart attack. The storm seems to be on my side because maybe a minute later another lightning bolt cuts through the black of the night.

Sure enough, there’s a person standing outside my front door.

Fuck, what do I do?!

The person doesn’t appear to be moving. They are standing just as still as I am, facing towards the house.

I thank the universe the lights inside the house are off. I turned them off cause I wanted the ultimate scary experience playing that game. The only light is the faint glow of my computer screen which is, thankfully, barely visible. I slowly start backing up towards the sliding glass door, never taking my eyes off the figure that I can just barely make out now that my surroundings have fallen into darkness again. If it weren’t for the lightning I would’ve never been able to see them.

I manage to get back inside, soaked as though I just got out of a pool, without making a single sound. Just to be safe, I shut my monitor off. I grab my phone to use as a flashlight in one hand and the switchblade just finds its way into the other, my fingers curling around it tightly, more on instinct than to use as a weapon. I know I probably won’t be able to stab whoever’s out there.

I tiptoe my way down the stairs where all the lights are also off. I flick the blade out as I hesitantly and shakily make my way to the door to look through the peephole. I let out an unsteady exhale as I look at the the figure who is now standing further away and seems to have one arm in the air, curled at the elbow.

Just as I’m about to pull away from the door to dial 911 another flash of lightning illuminates the yard, the figure along with it.

Can we go back to it being an intruder?

It’s no intruder, surprisingly - to my dismay.

I turn my phone’s flash off and reach for the switch next to the door, flicking the light on before opening the door and walking out.

“I NEARLY STABBED YOU WITH YOUR OWN BLADE!“ I yell in a desperate attempt to be heard over the waterfall of rain.

I can finally see him properly thanks to the light in my hallway. He looks like he hasn’t slept in years. He has his hood up but his black locks are sticking out in every direction from under the soaked material, not being protected from the droplets whatsoever. I read the shock in his eyes, almost like he didn’t know I lived there. He doesn’t make an attempt to approach or walk away from me so we just stand there, in the rain, staring at each other as though it’s the first time we’ve seen one another.

I snap out of the trance he has put me in, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of the situation as I step towards him, grabbing onto his wrist, “Come on, we look like drowned rats.” I don’t give him time to react as I drag him inside, closing the door once we enter. “OK, from the top now: Why were you embracing your inner serial killer on my front porch?” I keep blabbering, diverting my gaze to anything but him. “Fucking hell, I could’ve stabbed you! You could’ve gotten really badly hurt! I -...”

“You know, I wish you stabbed me.“ He finally puts an end to my sorry excuse for frustration, I’m aware I look and sound miserable. His voice drags my eyes straight to his, fixing them there. “I know you can’t kill a cockroach on your own, and I know you most definitely wouldn’t even scratch a person, but I wish you had hurt me. Inflict fifty stab wounds on me and you still won’t hurt me as much as I hurt you.“ His hand swiftly pushes the hood off his head, grabbing onto his drenched locks as an expression of pain paints itself on his face. He’s the one diverting his gaze now, “I know what you mistook my silence for and I want you to get that out of your head.“

I wince at the pang in my chest, barely restraining my hand from flying up to rest over my heart, “Don’t humor me, Corpse! I’m not a child and this is not a game!”

“I’m not humoring you. I’m telling you...“ he makes a step towards me, grabbing hold of my ice cold hands, “I’m telling you I’m an asshole that freezes up when it’s least acceptable. I’m telling you I’m the worst at expressing how I feel. I’m telling you I can’t open foil. But you already knew all that. And you still liked me.“ He breaths in, refilling his lungs before continuing his rant, “I know you can be very chaotic. A real handful. A fucking tornado. But I love you. I love you as every natural disaster you represent. And if you could humor me...“ One of his hands releases mine, coming up to push a strand of hair away from my face, resting his hand on my cheek. “...by giving me one more chance. You always let me try multiple times when I stumble over what I’m trying to say. Can you do that, for me? For us?“

I let out a dramatic sigh, rolling my eyes. “If I say yes will you stop showing up like that on my doorstep?“ Of course, my primal instinct is to act tough and cool when my heart rate is once again going at the speed from back at the balcony. The skin of face and neck is red and burning hot. My eyes are rimmed with tears, I hope he doesn’t notice.

“Yeah. I’ll start coming in through the chimney instead.“ He visibly relaxes, a smile dancing at the corner of his lips. He lifts the hand that’s still holding the switchblade, prying it out of my grasp. “No sharp objects, please.”

He drops it in the pocket of his hoodie, finally leaning down to erase any last bit of doubt I have left. This kiss teaches me a lot of things.

Love isn’t linear - nothing about it is linear. Not falling in nor falling out of it. Feelings aren’t digital or binary - it’s not always as black and white as we might want to believe. Feelings don’t just come and go. They are always present, but it depends on us weather they’re suppressed or expressed. We fear the latter cause we fear vulnerability and change. But we also crave the positive outcome we have a 50% chance of getting. It’s a fifty-fifty game, but here’s the thing: if you never express your feelings it’s a zero-a hundred chance that you won’t receive the outcome you’d like.

I took the fifty over the zero chance and regretted it for a day or two. It gave me closure if nothing more. It let me stand under the spotlight and carry my pride on my shoulders despite the tears in my eyes.

My feelings being reciprocated is just another benefit. But no longer being able to call Corpse ‘best friend’ cause he’s now got a bigger and better title is the positive outcome I have been dreaming of.

He makes it all worth it. He is worth all of it.

And if I had to go through all that again, you can bet your ass I would.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis

913 notes · View notes

purrincess-chat · 4 years ago

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH3

It’s akuma time! This chapter hurts worse down the line, if you can believe it. I have a lot up my sleeve for Alya and Marinette this go round ;)

-------------------------

Previous First Next AO3

Chapter 3: Ignorance

Nino entered the locker room, nodding his head to the beat playing in his headphones. Alya was taking the whole Marinette situation hard, so he wanted to make sure she was okay. Maybe they could go out for some ice cream to cool off, then try talking to Marinette about what happened. Surely, there was an explanation for it.

As he rounded the corner of lockers, his eyes widened with terror. Red lips upturned into a sinister smirk, and Hawkmoth’s newest creation stared back at him with a set of familiar hazel eyes.

“Alya?” he gasped.

“Not anymore.” She trailed her thumb over the small pitchfork in her hands. “I’m Backstabber, and I’m going to get revenge against my so-called ‘bff.’”

Nino turned to run, but Backstabber launched a pitchfork straight into his back where it disappeared with a spark. She paced over to him, lifting his chin as tiny devil horns matching her own appeared on his head.

“Now,” she cooed. “Isn’t there something you have to say to your best friend?”

♪♫♪ Let It Die ♪♫♪

Across the street, Adrien and Marinette sat in her living room, picking away at their homework. Adrien was in her living room. Sitting on her couch. Drinking her tea. He was too beautiful for words, his gorgeous green eyes scanning over his maths problem. His face alone made her regret ever leaving Francoise-Dupont. How was she going to survive without seeing his radiance every day?

Marinette was too busy memorizing the rhythm of his breathing to focus on her work, the memory of his arms wrapped around her still fresh. He’d cradled her in his arms. Of course, it was because she was ugly crying, but she would ignore that detail.

Adrien was too perfect for words. How did she ever think that he would abandon her when she left? Their friendship meant a lot to him. She meant a lot to him. It was a fact that she’d spend hours dreaming about. One day he’d hold her in his arms and whisper those three beautiful words. Then they’d get married, have 3 kids and a hamster named-

Adrien’s phone rang, snapping her from her trance, and her heart sank. It was probably his father demanding that he come home like normal, but to her surprise, Nino’s picture flashed on the screen.

“Hey, Nino, what’s up?”

“Ya know what, Adrien? I’m tired of your goody-two-shoes act, pretending you’re all innocent,” Nino said.

Adrien’s eyebrows raised. “What are you talking abou-”

“I’m gonna tell your dad to start homeschooling you again so the rest of us don’t have to put up with you anymore.” Nino hung up with a maniacal laugh.

“What was that about?” Marinette asked.

“I don’t know,” Adrien said, staring down at the screen, “but it can’t be good.”

“You don’t think he was akumatized, do you?” She reached for her purse.

“If not him, then probably someone else, I should get home before things get too crazy. I’m sure Ladybug and Chat Noir will handle everything soon, so stay inside where it’s safe, okay?” He shoved his tablet and textbook back into his school bag quickly. “See you around, Marinette.”

“Uh, yeah, see ya…”

Marinette reached for her purse the moment the door shut behind him. “Let’s get out there and capture this akuma before Nino gets to Gabriel Agreste. Tikki, transform-”

Before she could finish the phrase, the front window of the living room shattered, and Marinette shielded her face from the debris with a yelp. Her purse tumbled under the coffee table out of reach.

“Hey, Marinette.” A familiar face loomed over her with a twisted grin. “Remember me? Your bff?”

“Alya?” Marinette gasped, stumbling over the side of the couch. “What happened to you?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” She readied another pitchfork. “I’m not Alya anymore. I go by Backstabber now, but I bet you know all about that sort of thing.”

Backstabber tossed a small pitchfork and caught it again as Marinette inched toward the stairs.

“What are you talking about?” She needed to reach her purse, but Backstabber was closing in.

“You know what you did,” she snarled. “I’ve got a pretty pitchfork here, how would you like to shove it into my back? Oh wait, you already did!”

Marinette turned to dash up the stairs, narrowly dodging the pitchfork as her parents burst through the front door.

“Marine- Oh!” her dad gasped before taking a defensive position between Backstabber and the stairs. “I won’t let you hurt my daughter!”

“If you knew what she was really like, you wouldn’t bother protecting her.” Backstabber’s eyes narrowed as Marinette’s mom entered the room. “But tell me, daddykins, can you protect your wife and your daughter?”

With a flick of her wrist, Backstabber launched another pitchfork at Marinette’s mom. Her dad jumped in front of her, turning his back and taking the attack himself.

“Dad!” Marinette gasped as two horns appeared on his head before she retreated through the trap door into her room.

“Tell me, Marinette,” Backstabber continued, pursuing her calmly as Marinette scrambled to the loft stairs. “Did you ever consider me a real friend?”

“Of course, I did!” Marinette paused halfway up.

“Then how could you abandon me?” Backstabber palmed another pitchfork. “How could you leave without telling me?”

“How could you abandon me?” Marinette shot back, eyes stinging. “How could you take someone else’s side over mine? How could you put me in the back of the class by myself and not even apologize?”

“Lila was right about you. You really are just an attention-seeker, always playing the victim,” Backstabber said.

Marinette clenched her jaw before crawling over her bed and through the skylight onto the balcony. She climbed over the wall, wobbling as she made her way out onto the rooftops.

“You know what I think?” Backstabber called, and Marinette spun around to face her. “I think you’re the real liar. Always running late, making up excuses, disappearing suddenly, so what secrets are you hiding, Marinette?”

Before Backstabber could attack, Chat Noir smacked the pitchfork from her hand with his staff. “It’s dangerous to play on the roof. Someone could fall,” he said with his usual taunting lilt.

“I don’t think Marinette can sink any lower.” Backstabber glared through her. Marinette’s hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“What happened to you two? I thought you were best friends,” Chat Noir asked, taking a defensive stance in front of Marinette. “Not too long ago you were putting your neck on the line to save her, and now you’ve turned your back on her?”

“She turned her back on me!” Backstabber shouted.

“Only because you were being a bad friend!” Marinette shot back.

Backstabber flinched, squeezing her eyes shut before she unleashed a slew of pitchforks with a growl.

Chat spun his staff to deflect them as Marinette cowered behind him. She needed to find a way out of this to transform. Maybe Ladybug could talk some sense into Alya, but her purse was still down in the apartment.

“Ah!” he hissed as a pitchfork grazed his arm.

Marinette cupped her hands over her mouth in horror, but nothing happened. “Why didn’t it transform you?” she asked, closing her eyes and picturing her dad. “Of course! Her attacks only work if they hit you in the back.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to keep this battle face-to-face,” he said, wrapping an arm around her, “but first I should get you to safety.”

“Not so fast, kitty!” Backstabber growled, charging in, but he dodged out of the way before she could strike.

Landing in the street, Chat Noir set Marinette down and brandished his staff once more.

“Go! I’ve got your back,” he shouted as Backstabber gave chase. “Cataclysm!”

As Marinette ran up the street, Chat Noir touched his palm to the concrete, opening a crater to the sewers to distract Backstabber while Marinette escaped. She needed to meet up with Tikki before Chat Noir changed back.

Ducking back into the bakery, she tiptoed around the counter and pressed a hand to the side of her mouth. “Tikki?” she called in a hushed tone, creeping over to the backdoor.

“Marinette!”

She jumped as her kwami phased through the floor and flitted into her face.

“Thank goodness.” Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. “Come on, let’s go before Backstabber gets the best of Chat Noir. Transform me!”

Chat Noir’s cries echoed between the buildings as Ladybug stepped out of the bakery, and with a practiced toss, she created a net between two light poles with her yoyo to catch him.

“I see this battle is really flying by,” she said as he climbed down.

“Yeah, and we need to move quick. I don’t have a lot of time left.” He held up his ring finger where three pads flashed.

“Oh look, the cockroach has joined her mangey stray,” Backstabber cooed.

“And she’s about to kick your butt.” Ladybug charged in.

With each strike, Ladybug scanned her person, trying to figure out where the akuma could be hiding. Nothing stood out besides the intricate brooch embedded in her suit. Alya never wore jewelry, and Ladybug couldn’t fathom why the akuma would be there. As she dodged another swing, a familiar photo of the two of them nestled inside the jewel stood out. Back flipping out of the way a few times, she pressed her hands to either side of her mouth.

“Chat Noir! The akuma is in the photo in her necklace!” she called as Backstabber crossed her wrists to block his staff, forcing him back a few paces.

“What’s the plan for getting it because I’m running out of time,” he said urgently—his last two pads flickering.

“Lucky charm!” She caught the two necklaces as they fell from the sky, turning them over in her hands to read the two halves of a heart together. “Best friends forever… What am I supposed to do with this?”

She glanced around with a pensive frown, singling in on the photo in Backstabber’s necklace and the tears bubbled in the corner of her eyes.

“M’lady?” Chat Noir dodged another pitchfork.

“Go! I’ve got this.” She ordered, but he eyed her skeptically, his ring flashing.

“Are you sure, m’lady?” he asked.

“Positive.”

Chat Noir glanced between them with a conflicted frown before vaulting himself into the rooftops.

Ladybug took a stance in front of Backstabber in the middle of the street. “Just you and me now,” she said with a gentle determination.

“How do you expect to beat me with that?” Backstabber scoffed, cocking a hip to one side.

“Not with this.” Ladybug shook her head. “With words. You’re upset that your friend abandoned you, right?”

Backstabber seemed taken aback. Her jaw clenched as Ladybug held up the necklaces.

“She’s your best friend, and right now you’re hurt and confused, but have you considered that maybe she’s feeling the same way?” Ladybug continued.

“She left me!” A tear rolled down her cheek. “She didn’t even say goodbye!”

“Don’t you think she has a reason? Best friends don’t just abandon each other.”

Backstabber weighed it before shaking her head. “What reason could she possibly have had?”

“There’s a lot you probably don’t know about your friend. Secrets that she wishes she could tell you but can’t…” Ladybug averted her gaze. “I’m sure you’re both hurting, and Hawkmoth took advantage of that, but you’re stronger than he is, Alya.” At the sound of her name, Backstabber flinched, and Ladybug paced over to place her hands on her shoulders. “I know you are.”

Backstabber searched her gaze, lips quivering, shoulders shaking. She hugged her sides as hot tears spilled down her cheeks, sinking to her knees. Ladybug crouched beside her, fastening one of the necklaces around her neck before opening the clasp of Backstabber’s locket and removing the picture inside. Ladybug stared at it with a frown before ripping it down the middle, separating the two smiling girls and freeing the black butterfly from inside.

“No more evildoing for you, little akuma.”

��♫♫ Miserable at Best ♪♫♪

When the doorbell rang, Marinette stood up from the couch and straightened her blazer. She took a deep breath before striding over to answer it. Miraculous Ladybug set everything back to the way it was, but there were some things that her superpowers couldn’t fix. This time she would have to face them herself.

“Hey…” Alya gave a half-wave when Marinette opened the door.

“Hey,” Marinette replied.

“Sorry about earlier,” Alya said with a wince. “I was upset about you leaving, and I guess Hawkmoth could sense that.” When Marinette remained quiet, she bit her lip. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Marinette averted her gaze. “I didn’t want anyone to make a fuss because I’d already made up my mind.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Because-” Her words caught themselves on the tip of her tongue.

What was she supposed to say? That it was because her friends abandoned her? That her friends trusted a stranger over her when she’d proved to them time and time again that she was trustworthy and honest? That she didn’t say anything because her friends would have tried to guilt her into staying because she couldn’t provide them a believable answer for why she was leaving? Even now she couldn’t think of a viable way to prove to Alya that Lila was lying, since she was so insistent on Marinette having evidence. Alya wasn’t one to take her word without proof even though she seemed to have no trouble doing that for Lila. Marinette wasn’t sure which was worse: Alya’s lack of trust in her or her overabundance of trust in Lila.

“Because of Lila?” Alya asked, and Marinette fixed her gaze on the door handle. “Why are you so bothered by her? She’s never done anything to you, and all you’ve ever done is accuse her of lying about everything.”

Marinette wanted to tell Alya the truth more than anything, but given her track record, she didn’t think it would do any good. She couldn’t prove that Lila had threatened her, and even mentioning it would seem like another vain attempt to defame her. As much as it pained her, Marinette didn’t have an answer for Alya. If she was so bent on having concrete evidence, then there was no point in trying to come up with one, so she simply shrugged.

“I don’t know what has gotten into you, girl, but it’s not healthy,” Alya said. “If you’d just give Lila a chance, you’d see that-”

“No,” Marinette said firmly, and Alya’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Sorry, but I won’t play along with her.”

“Play along with- this isn’t a game, Marinette! She’s just a person with an exotic life,” Alya chided, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Honestly, it won’t kill you to try.”

“I can’t be friends with her.” Marinette shook her head.

“Why?” Alya asked. “Give me one good reason why. I’m sure if you tell her about Adrien-”

“It’s not about Adrien.”

“Then what?” Alya held her arms out. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of her getting attention from everyone.”

Marinette recoiled at that, eyes stinging. The fact that Alya even mentioned that proved that Lila had her hooks in too deep. Alya couldn’t be saved. As much as it pained her, there were some villains out there that even Ladybug couldn’t defeat.

“I’m not jealous of her, but I am a little hurt that my best friend is siding with someone she barely knows over me,” she said with more bite than she intended.

“Can you blame me with how sketchy you’ve been acting? What proof do you have?” Alya shot back, hands balling into fists when Marinette shifted her weight. “Lately, I feel like I don’t know you as well as I thought I did, girl.”

“I’m starting to think the same,” Marinette said.

“Then I guess we shouldn’t consider ourselves bffs if there’s so much we don’t know about each other!” Alya retorted. “Maybe we shouldn’t even be friends at all.”

Marinette suppressed a sigh, heart sinking as she held Alya’s gaze before three of the most painful words passed her lips. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

Alya took a step back, jaw dropping. Her eyes burned into Marinette’s, fresh tears bubbling in the corners. Marinette wore a steely mask, relaying no emotion despite the hammering in her chest. She bit her lip to hide how it shook.

Alya finally flicked her gaze to her feet, rubbing at her cheek before a tear could escape. “Well, I guess that’s that then,” she said. Alya turned and stormed down the stairs.

Marinette closed the door, lingering with her hand on the handle. Her shoulders shook, and she sank to the floor with a whimper, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. As it turned out, the high road was far lonelier than she’d ever imagined, but there was no going back now. She’d made her choice.

#mdcspr #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #my writing

116 notes · View notes

oh-boy-me · 4 years ago

Text

Demon Outfits Discussed

The wait is over :) thank you for your patience and all the lovely comments on the casual discussion!!

I feel like it got longer this time, so I hope it’s all an enjoyable read! Also, I apologize for the ugly pictures--it was the easiest and fastest way to both have all the design in one image and also prevent it from stretching so far.

Like last time, please don’t take this too seriously; we love these boys and Justin doesn’t know them but has no grudges against them. We’re just harping on their fashion sense. Absolutely no hate is intended towards the boys or the design team!

Participants in the discussion were

Jo ( @jodaneko ), our art major with storyboarding/character design experience, who finds they have more in common with Satan each passing day.

Justin ( @justinlester0629 ), our fashion expert, who dressed up and filled a wine glass with water for the occasion.

Noodle (Me), our untrained eye who owns the Barbie as the Island Princess video game on three different platforms. It’s not even that good.

Featuring emergency guest star Megan ( @maggo77 ), my sister who is physically near me as we look at the backs of their designs for the first time.

Edit: Distracted by the pretty jacket, we made a mistake when putting in Levi’s silhouette rating. It’s the worst. 2/10, not 6.

Lucifer:

“Boy looks like he’s about to swing open the doors of an expensive mansion during a debutante party and give some SCATHING NEWS.” —Justin

“Short shoulder cape and a long split butt cape lol” —Jo

Jo has realized that based on both outfits, Lucifer doesn’t want people looking at his butt. Possible reasons are: he doesn’t have one, or Diavolo someone was getting distracted.

His shoes match his outfit. After last time that’s all I care about.

A triple popped color, and how many layers is the middle one? Is that a book? Dude has like 27 collars.

The forehead diamond is very important and it’s great that there are diamond buttons to match it. But uh. How about those red diamonds on his sleeves. They. They sure are there. (I actually like the red accents and that they match his gloves; I just can’t take the diamonds seriously.)

Lucifer 🤝 Some Horses Diamond on the Forehead

The peacock motif is HERE and we’re all living for it. HOWEVER, the feathers on the cape and coattails should have matched, OR there should have been more lime green because there’s so little of that color.

The pants have a pleat in the front, which Justin says means he responsibly irons his clothes, and Jo says only heightens the fact that under the capes this is a marching uniform.

Can he fly? Jo says these are baby wings that can’t support his weight, and his cape has a hole for the top pair but blocks the bottom pair? Can’t believe Lucifer handicapped himself for the sake of fashion.

The red makes it regal and the wide flowy design makes it imposing. Good job, Lucifer! I might actually be intimidated if I saw you.

Definitely the classiest outfit. You can tell they put care into it.

Mammon:

“BITCH MY BODY CANNOT TAKE THIS KIND OF SEXY, I THINK I AM OVERHEATING! NO MORE FURTHER COMMENTS, YOUR HONOR. HAUTE AND HOT.” —Justin

The whole thing does amazing with only three colors. We’ve noticed the trend of black and white + one color, but I mean hey. It’s working so far.

Damn those pants sit low. No wonder literally all of you wear belts.

The leather jacket? The studs and harness? Bless. Justin calls it “the perfect blend of stylish and ‘I’ll see you tonight *wink*’”.

Kind of don’t like how the belts connect to the pants, though. It looks better in the back.

“He found a really cool jacket, but it didn’t pair with anything so he just didn’t wear anything.” —Jo

Honestly though? We’ve all made fun of Mammon for having big hoe energy in his outfits, but like, he knew he had wings and planned his outfit to accommodate for that. He’s the only one who didn’t cut holes in his outfit. Maybe Mammon was the smallest hoe after all.

Also if there’s a motif it repeats elsewhere, like the studs and diamonds on his jacket and pants. Did he and Lucifer have a “tastefully putting diamonds on my outfit” battle? Because Mammon definitely won.

One of the charms broke off the belt loop and he never bothered to replace it, and honestly thank god there isn’t two of those anymore.

Torn between wishing the boots were tighter to match the rest of the outfit and saying “yoooo they’re open in the back!!!”

Ok so so far we’ve said generally only good things, but there is one major issue with the design: Its gravity. Everything points down, his tattoos, the diamonds, even his wings. The center of gravity in the image is his shoes. Bitch loved his shoes so much he made his whole outfit point to them.

Either way this was universally considered the best and I mourn Justin who doesn’t know how far Mammon’s standards are gonna fall from here.

Leviathan:

Diagonal zipper

“Levi what the fuck.” —Megan

He looks like an e-boy.

Honestly it looks like he borrowed something from Justin’s wardrobe for Pride but he didn’t know how to put it on.

APPARENTLY the biggest hoe. Abs that he shouldn’t have coming through a mesh t-shirt. I thought Mammon’s pants were low, but Levi’s whole-ass ass is out. Ok Levi, I see you.

The shirt pattern is good but he probably leaves it partially unzipped because it’d look really dumb fully closed.

Justin loves the funky pants pattern and Jo likes the pants but not with the outfit. It’s because the devs were too coward to give him a thick tail base so his pants had to fill that role by sharing the pattern.

The shoes are good, and not just because they incited Justin’s deep-set hatred for Christian Louboutin and his uncomfortable red-bottom shoes.

Justin is offended that he’s hiding his suspenders; either show them completely or not at all, no in between. Jo’s not fully convinced it isn’t just one suspender. What are his suspenders doing? What are they attached to? Are they holding anything up? Apparently not.

Jo pointed out that if you squint the belt on his waist looks like fangs and the orange dots on his sleeves looks like eyes so it’s like theres a snake head on his outfit. Cute!

The gloves are throwing us off though. Why is Levi of all other brothers need gloves? I bet he has sweaty hands.

Ok really, does his sweater unzip all the way into two pieces? Or does it hang by that tiny thread underneath the tail hole? There’s even a button, just in case.

Can’t believe this antler-sporting, suspender-wasting nerd went diagonal zipper on us because we beat him at a trivia game. Should have just zipped his hood.

Satan:

HONEY.

“I hate everything about this.” —Megan

First of all, he’s straight up wearing Lucifer’s casual shirt. Does it only button down the back? Can he take it off?

Then he spilled bleach on his pants. Like I get what they were going for but with the white on black that is literally just bleach stains.

Incredibly differing opinions on the belt. He got it in the cowboy department. Justin adores it. Jo despises it.

And are those… athletic slip ons?

And now the elephant in the room. The ribcage made of ribbons. The ribboncage. The idea is great! I love that they gave him a skeletal theme without throwing him into a Hot Topic.

But if you take the ribboncage and feather boa off he’s literally just wearing a dress shirt and some nice jeans. And that’s the problem with Satan’s demon form. Not that it looks goofy. It’s that they took risks but then hid all the risks behind business casual.

Also Megan said that the back of the ribbons look like a rock climbing harness. Someone (probably Justin) said the front reminds them of the underbelly of a green cockroach. Ew.

The feather boa would look better if it was over something you wouldn’t literally wear at the office. (And also didn’t look so much like worm on a string.)

“He is going to Dragcon 2020 and is definitely going to take a picture and ask to lip sync, but accidentally start beef with Acid Betty.” —Justin

On a good note, loving how the tail fades to highly radioactive green. Feels dangerous. Megan pointed out that it’s a pretty wimpy tail, though. Jo enjoys the self-conscious posture it expresses.

That’s basically the only good thing we have to say, though.

I just????

Merry Christmas.

Asmodeus:

The kanji on the picture is just saying that the coattail is the same on both sides.

Ok now with that out of the way, HONEY.

I’m sure he says that to others but I hope he says it to himself too when he looks in the mirror.

Starting with the good. The wings? Adorable. The heart-shaped hole to accommodate them? Adorable. One of the only good adjustments.

And I love that the tips of his horns look venomous, like a scorpion tail!

We love a good floral design and a good twin tailcoat.

But once again, the shirt just has too much going on. The flowers. The buttons. The brick-pattern stitching. The brooch. The long collar. The fact that if he closed the last button it’d end in a diamond covering his crotch. Sometimes less is more, Asmo.

That scorpion brooch is the best thing to ever grace my computer screen and it shouldn’t have to share the spotlight with the rest of his shirt. It should have wrapped around his arm and been paired with some more jewelry. Then he could have ditched those giant cuffs.

The bleeding heart tattoos are a really good idea! But they should have been angled better and not like someone else put them on at the roller rink. And maybe they shouldn’t have been outlined in pink. Those aren’t tattoos, those are gaping holes in his arm. Is he ok.

I’ve been avoiding the pants, but. The pants.

“Oh dear god. Oh no that’s… I thought you were a designer…” —Jo

One side is buckled the ENTIRE way down, and then the other side is COMPLETELY plain. It’s too extreme on both ends. It should have been only half a leg of buckles. Not whatever this is. I still don’t think he can bend that leg.

The shoes are ok but they COULD have been a stiletto so.

Jo is DONE with these demons’ inability to wear socks.

We expected better from you, Asmo. I hope you have to fasten all those buckles every morning as retribution.

Beelzebub:

He said “how many belts can I wear on one outfit.”

Justin said it’s like Barry B. Benson and Post Malone had a beautiful baby boy, and Obey Me! is cancelled for creating a sequence of events that could lead to me hearing that with my own two ears.

The jacket? Stunning. “It’s steampunk mixed with Jack Sparrow, mixed with Billie Joe Armstrong,” says Justin. It’s got puffy sleeves! And there’s objectively too much going on with the jacket, but since it’s a leather jacket I can forgive it. Justin and Jo can’t.

I’m not sure why they keep giving him weird jacket collars but I prefer belt number 9 to fur.

“Why is it bucked in the back? Couldn’t it have just been a jacket?” —Megan

Good that the black tank isn’t only black, but he has so little color on his outfit that it would have been nice for it and the matching pattern on his boots to have been a color besides gray.

I don’t mind the belts down the leg because they’re not too in your face. Jo wants the white belt to be thinner. Justin wants him to just pick one and go with it.

Poor Beel, he can’t do his lil thigh pat pose without his right hand being assaulted by studs and that bear trap-shaped buckle.

Justin feels like the cowboy boots are too wide up top and it’s probably because they’re FAKE cowboy boots. I don’t know why he didn’t just get cowboy boots instead of putting fake coverings over his dress shoes.

Can’t fault the twin belt, though. And the wing hole isn’t terrible.

Idk I guess. They knew what they wanted to do at least.

That seems to be the pattern with Beel: they know what they want to do, but something weird happens in the middle of it.

Belphegor:

“I don’t know which Teletubby let their son go through the it’s just a phase mom phase, but they should be ashamed.” —Justin

A toddler who just learned how to cut holes in paper got a hold of his hoodie.

Is it a hoodie? A jacket? A poncho? The cow print actually isn’t terrible. At least it had the decency to be unique in its spotting. And the actual presence of blue is very appreciated.

On the topic of colors, Jo is calling the devs out on their apparent fear of color. “Put the pink elsewhere, cowards,” they say.

We actually don’t hate the horseshoe, and using it for the belt buckles is actually really clever. Even if 75% of them are doing literally nothing. Feel like he didn’t need that many. Could do without the bottom one, maybe even bottom two.

There’s a teeeeny tiny cowbell on the back? Megan apparently finds that VERY important. Why do they go to such great lengths to remind us that Belphie’s a cow? Beel doesn’t rub his hands together 24/7. Mammon doesn’t even get bird wings.

Just like Satan spilled bleach, Belphie has tar pants.

It’s nice to see a change in pant style, but. Am I biased because I hate harem pants? Maybe. Are these harem pants too short on him? Yes. Maybe they were supposed to be parachute capris? But it just looks he outgrew them too fast and Lucifer won’t buy him new pants yet. At least they look comfy.

If he puts his keys in those pockets will his pants fall down? Probably. That’s a problem considering his are the only pants that look like they could hold any keys.

The shoes are fine. I can enjoy a high topped sneaker. …Is that a security tag? Did he steal his shoes. Belphie stole his shoes.

On the tiny tail hole, I appreciate that Belphie went for modesty. But I hope it’s impossible to wear these outfits outside of demon form because I don’t want him walking around with a tiny hole right above his ass.

Honestly he doesn’t even look like a demon? He just looks like… a cow.

There’s one more aspect of their demon forms that I didn’t feel comfortable forcing into a smaller space than it deserved: Silhouettes. Jo puts a lot of weight on silhouettes and their role in character design. Is it dynamic? Is it recognizable? Jo ranked them as such:

1. Lucifer: 9/10. Care and effort were put into this design and it shows. 2. Mammon: 7/10. Points deducted for most of it being form fitting but otherwise still manages to get a passing grade. 3 (tied). Beelzebub: 5/10. His wings have actual mass but his horns being mostly hidden by his head reduce his score. 3 (tied). Belphegor: 5/10. Evens out since his clothes aren’t as form fitting as the others but they also kind of turn him into a blob. 5. Asmodeus: 4/10, and only because he’s got multiple wings and that his tailcoat breaks up the bottom half. 6. Satan: 3/10, for the fact HIS BOA carries most of the work in altering his silhouette. 7. Leviathan: 2/10. The tail and horns prevent this from being a total flop.

Our (surprisingly unanimous!) ranking of their outfits (not counting Megan her opinions deviated) were:

Mammon

Lucifer

Leviathan

Belphegor

Beelzebub

Asmodeus

Satan

In conclusion, any M-rated fic that doesn’t have it take demon Satan 20 minutes to take off his shirt is too unrealistic.

586 notes · View notes

quixotin · 3 years ago

Text

in which adrien is a science teacher and has to pay his karma by babysitting a teenager that has his exact same humor when he was 15.

Chapter 2 of Chat Noir Is My Science Teacher is up, friends :D

Ch. 2. Mr. Deep

In which Matt is baby and Adrien begins to pay his karma for being a lil shit when he was younger, with interest.

When Matthieu braced himself for the day, the last thing he expected to happen was learning that Mr. Dupain-Cheng, his science teacher, was none other than his idol, Chat Noir.

Yes, Mr. Dupain-Cheng, the dorky teacher who laughed at his own bad science puns and had a themed t-shirt for every day of the week. Mr. Dupain-Cheng, the man who thought grading with “You Tried” stars and cat stickers was funny. Mr. Dupain-Cheng, who was so gullible he didn’t notice when students wanted to distract him from giving a lesson by asking him about his wife because they knew he could rant about her for hours. Mr. Dupain-Cheng, the only teacher that replied with an ‘ok :)’, a meme, and the signature, ‘Sent from my cat-phone,’ when replying to a well-thought email. That Mr. Dupain-Cheng.

How could this be possible? He was so... so uncool .

Read below the cut or on AO3 by clicking the link above.

When Matthieu braced himself for the day, the last thing he expected to happen was learning that Mr. Dupain-Cheng, his science teacher, was none other than his idol, Chat Noir.

How could this be possible? He was so... so uncool .

When Matt thought about who Chat Noir might be under his mask he always pictured someone bold and dashing, maybe one of those cool guys that worked in those crazy science startups. Someone brave, fearless... not a father of two who, Matt was pretty sure, screeched one time a flying cockroach somehow crawled from one of the sinks in the lab. He pictured someone like Barbara Keynes or Peter Parker.

They were witty and mysterious. Mr. Dupain-Cheng was too nice to be a superhero.

“Matt!” Timo tackled him into a hug as Matthieu and Mr. Dupain-Cheng joined the rest of the class. Ladybug had finished handing out autographs to his classmates and had already left. “Are you okay? Did you see the Akuma? It was so sick!”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Matthieu muttered, as Mr. Dupain-Cheng pointedly put as much distance between himself and Matt. He called the class’ attention to continue their museum visit.

“You’re in danger, kid.” His teacher’s words still resounded in Matthieu’s head. “For your own safety, lay low until I decide what to do with this, okay?”

He didn’t give Matt a chance to ask any questions, to say anything. He basically wanted him to ignore this, to act as if he had just found him practicing some obscure hobby outside school.

As they walked, Matt trained his eyes on the back of his teacher’s head, the blond, messy mop of hair towering over the group of teens.

“Hey, Timo?”

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Deep is, like, a nerd, right?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty cool,” Timo said, his attention more invested in his portable video game console than in the conversation. “He knows, like, all the animes.”

“That’s not cool,” said Matt.

“Of course it is,” Timo said, finally peeling his eyes off the screen. “We like that stuff.”

Timo had a point, Matthieu had to admit.

“And remember the time he helped me solder that motherboard we used for the robot competition? That was pretty cool.”

“I... suppose.”

Timo shrugged, blissfully unaware of Matt’s current crisis. “I keep telling you, man,” he said, returning to his videogame. “Mr. Deep is the coolest teacher at school.”

After the field trip, Matt went home stuck in a contemplative trance, wanting to decide what the revelation was that truly bothered him: the fact that Chat Noir’s civilian persona was absolutely nothing like what he had pictured, or that Timo was right and the reason why he disliked Mr. Dupain-Cheng was actually because he looked up to him, and that he embodied the complete opposite of everything Matt was taught to be.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense, to be honest. As any self-respecting fan, Matthieu knew Chat Noir’s career by heart. He had seen those old clips of him as a teenager, cracking witty jokes and one-liners in the middle of battle. It kind of made sense that he’d grow up to be the kind of man that was unapologetically chaotic. Besides, those memes and punny cat stickers he liked to grade with? Suddenly it seemed all so obvious. It was almost as if Mr. Dupain-Cheng was flaunting the truth in front of everyone, knowing no one would peg him as the kind of man who was a superhero. It was all in the same way no one seemed to understand how on earth such a whacky dude would end up with one of the most successful designers in Paris.

Matt suddenly shot up from the comfort of his bed as he contemplated his thoughts.

Ladybug. Weren’t Ladybug and Chat Noir a couple?

Oh my god, is Mr. Dupain-Cheng cheating on his wife with Ladybug? Or backwards? Wait... Isn’t that famous designer his wife? What’s her name, MDC? No, that’s the brand. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Wait.

Does his wife even know? Oh, no... Poor woman! Wait... what if...

Matt gasped. “She’s Ladybug. She has to be.”

He paced around his room, his thoughts going a thousand miles an hour. “I can never let Hawkmoth akumatize me ever again,” he screeched, grabbing handfuls of his hair. “Oh my god!” he shrieked. “Okay, Matt, breathe. Breathe. Just... Think. Okay. This can be good, right? This can be good.”

He kept pacing around.

“Okay, Matt. Okay. You just figured out that Mr. Deep is Chat Noir and his wife is Ladybug... Cool, it’s all cool,” he said to himself in a pitch heightened by the sheer panic that coursed through him. “It’s okay, it’s—.”

He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks as inspiration struck. He gasped excitedly and immediately got on his knees to reach under his bed.

“Of course!” he exclaimed, pulling out a small corkboard he kept hidden under the bed. The board was an indulgent little project if he did say so himself. It wasn’t related to any of his school activities, which is why he had to keep it hidden. Goodness knows what his parents would do if they found out he had been wasting time investigating who Hawkmoth might be.

This wasn’t bad, this was great!

I can help him! Matt thought excitedly. I can help him and Ladybug track Hawkmoth down!

He took a few shots of it with his phone to then ferociously kick it out of view, back under the bed again, when his mother entered his room.

“What are you doing on the floor, Matthieu?” Mrs. Magan, a middle-aged woman with stern eyes, said to him.

“I... lost a coin.”

Mrs. Magan frowned, not making much of the excuse. “Dinner is ready.”

Matthieu let out a silent sigh of relief as his mother turned around, then quickly followed after her, knowing better than to have her remind him a second time.

I can help him, he thought again excitedly. I can be his sidekick!

—-

Matthieu was not one to be late for school, but the day after discovering Mr. Deep’s identity he decided to be extra early, just to make sure he’d be able to talk to him in private. There was always the risk that he’d be late of course, but now that Matthieu knew the reason, he could hardly hold it against him.

Matt was lucky enough to spot him in the Chemistry lab when he arrived. He peeked through the small window on the door. it seemed he was grading papers.

He grinned and immediately went in, hardly being able to contain his excitement.

“Good morning, Mr. Dupain-Cheng!” he exclaimed enthusiastically, causing Adrien to jolt and knock some of the paper sheets to the ground. Matt rushed to pick them up before Adrien had the chance to do so. “So listen, I have thoughts ,” he said as he put the papers back on the desk and fumbled with his backpack to produce his phone. “I was up all night updating my Hawkmoth board, and I was thinking—I was thinking that maybe, you know this philanthropist, Lila Rossi—”

Adrien could only stare dumbfounded at how fast Matt rambled before he even caught the drift of what he was saying. Once he registered it though, he jolted once again.

“Shh!” Adrien hushed at the teen, frantically looking around himself to see if anyone was in the vicinity—even though the door was closed.

“Matthieu, what are you talking about?” he hissed.

“I wanna help you track Hawkmoth!” Matthieu piped with a bright smile, reaching into his backpack again to produce his phone. “Last night, I was thinking, ‘Hey, maybe this happened for a reason.’ I’m pretty good at this whole deduction thing, you know? I’m at the top of the class in almost all subjects and I have like, all the badges possible on the Ladyblog. Also, look, I have this board that I made about all the possible suspects because if you look at the akumatizations there’s a real pattern, and I’m thinking that whoever Hawkmoth might be, has some stuff to work through, because oh my god. Oh, like, this person he—”

“Matthieu, keep your voice down!” Adrien interrupted him. “No! I can’t let you do that. What happened yesterday was an accident, kid. Okay? It’s best if you just... If you just try to pretend like you don’t know anything while Ladybug and I decide what to do. This isn’t a game, Matt. You are in danger. If Hawkmoth ever lays hands on you, there’s no telling what might happen. Stay. Away. From. This.”

Undeterred by the ominous delivery of Mr. Dupain-Cheng’s warning, Matthieu beamed at him. “Don’t worry, Mr. Deep! I’m good at keeping secrets! I—”

“No. It is out of the question, Matthieu. This is dangerous and I—wait, what did you just call me?” Adrien said, suddenly catching the nickname.

Matthieu grew red in the face and smiled sheepishly at his teacher. “Mr. Deep... You know, ‘cause you’re always, like, going off these crazy deep tangents about the physics of akumas and stuff and—Oh my god, that makes so much sense now! Do you study them in your free time? Oh, wow! Do you and Miss Ladybug have a secret layer? Like Majestia and Knight Owl? Wait, actually, don’t answer that. Sensitive information, am I right? Oh! Also, I think Mr. Deep really fits you because you always give us this weirdly specific and deep life advice? And I don’t know how you do it but it’s always on point? Also, your name starts with a D...”

Adrien looked at the boy, shocked, and frankly a little scared that a kid could talk so much, so fast. There’s only one other person he had ever known whose mouth ran like a broken faucet if she was given the chance.

Wait , Adrien thought. Did... did he just pun with my name?

A part of him was flattered, another was surprised, a third one was slightly insulted.

The kid punned with my name. I’m his teacher !

“Matt!” he exclaimed, interrupting Matthieu’s spoken stream of consciousness. “No. This is final. Stay away from this. I don’t want to have to repeat myself. It is final.”

Again, unfazed by Adrien’s effort to act seriously, Matthieu beamed at him. “Don’t worry, Mr. Deep. I’ll prove you can trust me! I would not trust me, too, if I were you. But I’ll prove it! You’ll see.”

The bell rang, and with it came a thankful end to the conversation. At least on Adrien’s side.

“And don’t call me Mr. Deep.”

“Okay, Mr. Deep!” Matthieu said, beaming at him as he made his way out of the classroom. “Oops! I mean, Mr. DC.”

Adrien sighed, glaring at the boy and feeling some sort of karmic entity laughing at him. He knew exactly what Matt’s energetic yet jesterly energy reminded him of: a sixteen-year-old version of himself whose favorite pastime was seeing how much foolery he could get away with before Ladybug decided to murder him in cold blood.

“It’s your karma,” Plagg muttered quietly before his students began pouring into the classroom. “Kid’s your spitting image. Though I gotta say, he blabbers as much as Spots.”

“Oh, shush it!”

“You know you have to tell her soon, right?” Plagg muttered from inside Adrien’s overshirt. “The more you delay, the deeper your grave.”

“I said shush.”

The little god snickered. “Someone’s in trouble.”

Plagg was right, though. Adrien had to tell Marinette about this. It was already bad that he didn’t tell her the moment it happened. She hated it when he did that. But in his defense, he knew she had a tough day at the label and he didn’t want to freak her out. He hoped that excuse would be enough. Plagg had laughed at him when he asked for his opinion about it.

Yeah, he was in trouble.

There was no way but through, he knew this. That didn’t mean his legs could tell the difference between an honest conversation with his life partner and the visceral fear for his survival that was elicited at the image of said conversation. He felt them buckle as he casually leaned against the kitchen island, trying his best to act natural.

The kids had been put to bed and there was thankfully no Akuma in sight. At least not yet.

Marinette sighed with relief as she swiftly undid her hair and reached into the fridge for a bottle of wine. If Adrien hadn’t been so terrified by what he was about to do, he’d allow himself to swoon at her.

Witnessing Marinette shed the tiredness of the day as she swapped into comfortable clothes—usually loose shirts and yoga pants— and poured her drink of choice was one of his favorite things to watch. It didn’t matter that they had been living together for a little over seven years now, he’d never get tired of watching her exist.

“You want some?” Marinette said as she stood on her tiptoes to reach the shelf where they kept the wine glassware.

“Yeah, sure,” Adrien said, then continued speaking after thanking his wife for the wine. “You’ll never guess what happened today.”

“What?” she said, clinking her glass against his before taking the first sip.

“A kid punned with my name.”

Marinette chuckled. “Really? What did he call you?”

“Mr. Deep.”

Marinette snorted as she took another sip from the glass.

“He said it’s because I like to go on deep tangents and because my name starts with a D. Kid can’t pun to save his life.”

Marinette smirked at him. “You’re one to talk.”

He dropped his jaw. “I can’t believe you just asked me for a divorce, m’lady.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and smiled, walking past him on the way to the couch. She placed her wine glass on a small side table and pulled out a sketchbook from one of its drawers. She busied herself reviewing her work while Adrien gathered the courage to nudge the conversation in the direction it needed to go.

“M’lady?” he said from behind her.

“What did you do,” Marinette replied immediately, as she flipped through the pages of the sketchbook.

”I— why do you always assume I did something?”

Marinette turned around and mocked him, then gave him a knowing smirk. “It’s in your tone, Chaton. You can’t lie.”

“I am an excellent liar, I’ll have you know.” He stopped himself from bragging further, seeing as Marinette frowned.

“What is it, Adrien? What happened?”

Adrien’s palms were sweating with anxiety. He gulped. “First of all, I love you and you know that, right?”

“Adrien,” Marinette said, her voice hitching up her tone.

“It’s nothing bad . I mean, it’s a ‘could be worse’ sort of situation.”

“ Adrien !”

“Hypothetically speaking, imagine... what if, er... one of the wielders accidentally revealed himself to someone who, uh, someone who absolutely shouldn’t know? Hypothetically speaking.”

“Adrien, what did you DO ?” Marinette screeched.

#chat noir is my science teacher #ml fanfic #science teacher adrien au #ml oc #ml oc matthieu magan #adrien agreste #gen fic #miraculous next gen #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #ladybug

35 notes · View notes

dontcare77ghj · 4 years ago

Text

Fighting

Natasha x reader x Bucky x Clint

This is the second time I’ve had to repost this. It’s getting bloody annoying.

“I’m going out.” You said, pulling your bag onto your shoulders.

“Where are you going, doll?” Bucky asked, walking towards you and resting his hands on your shoulders.

“My mother’s in town. She wants to have lunch.” You gave him a smile, which he returned. He knew how much you missed your parents.

“Is your dad also coming?” He asked you.

“No, he’s working with the professor. He might be in town next month though, maybe the three of you could join us?” You asked, biting your lower lip.

“Maybe,” Bucky answered weakly.

“You look nice,” Clint said as he entered the hall, Natasha, right behind him. “What’s the occasion?”

“I’m having lunch with my mother.” You said as he kissed your cheek in greeting. “I won’t be back till later, want me to pick up some take out?” You asked, looking between the three.

“I’ll be out,” Natasha answered. “Sorry, kotenok. I won’t be back until tomorrow morning.” Natasha told you, moving forward to kiss you. “Have fun. I love you.”

“Love you too.” You said, watching as she left the hall without sparing Bucky a glance.

“I’ll make dinner tonight,” Clint told you. “Buck, you gonna join?“

"Think so.” Bucky nodded. “I have to meet Steve for a training session,” Bucky said, kissing both you and Clint before leaving.

“It’s not getting any better.” You whispered to the archer. “They won’t even be in the same room as each other.”

“It’ll get better, babe, I promise,” Clint said, pulling you to his chest. “Don’t worry about them right now. For now, go and have a great time with your mother. I’m going to talk to Tash before she leaves, and Buck later, see if I can’t speed this up.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll be back. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Clint kissed you before you moved into the elevator. “Hey, I’m going to fix this, okay?” He called as the doors were closing.

“I believe you, hotshot.” You smiled. “I believe you.” You repeated as the doors closed.

“Oh, I missed you.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around your mother.

“I missed you too, darlin’.” Your mother said, pulling back to look at you. “You don’t call me nearly enough.” She teased, using her gloved hands to push the hair off your face.

“I call you more than I call dad.” You said as the two of you took your seats. Your mother had chosen a cafe about an hour away from the Tower. When you’d arrived, she’d already picked a table outside the small cafe.

“That’s because your daddy never picks up.” She laughed. “Never has.”

“Have you heard from him?” You asked her.

“No darlin’. Even if your daddy were the type to pick up, he’s working on something really big for Charles.” She shook her head. “I’d just distract him.”

“I spoke to him a couple weeks ago.” You commented. “He said he might come down next month.”

“That was supposed to be a surprise.” Your mother laughed.

“Was it?” You asked, raising a brow. “I’m pretty sure you were on that call. At least at the end.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” She laughed. “I’m sorry darlin’ my heads in the clouds.” She said as a waiter brought over your drinks.

“When did you order?” You quizzed her, pulling the drink towards you.

“When you texted that you were five minutes away.” She shrugged. “I made sure it was your favorite.” She added.

Before you could say anything, a passing car let out a loud squeal causing the woman across from to jump. And flicker.

“It’s not my favorite.” You said, looking down at hot chocolate with cinnamon. “I’ve only had it twice before, and both times were with you, grandma.”

“You’re smarter than I thought.” Mystique chuckled, eyes flashing yellow.

“You always underestimated us.” You scoffed, narrowing your eyes. “Where is my mother?”

“Anna Marie is fine,” Mystique assured you. “She believes you’re meeting her in half an hour across town. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” She tutted as your hands began to glow like your fathers.

“And why is that? People are more than aware of what I am capable of. It wouldn’t shock them.” You told her.

“It might not shock them, but what could shock you would be their deaths.” She said. “You didn’t think I came here alone, did you? If you do anything, I have people waiting to kill every human around us.”

“What do you want?” You asked her, lowering your hand.

“You.” Mystique said, leaning forward. “I want you to come with me."

"Something tells me you don’t mean for family bonding.” You scoffed.

“Unfortunately not.” She shook her head. “Wouldn’t that be nice? I haven’t seen you since you were knee-high.” She chuckled.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have joined Magneto then.” You narrowed your eyes at the woman. “You would’ve seen a lot more.”

“I’m not your enemy, Y/N. We’re family.”

“You betrayed us.” You snapped. “Are you going to kill people if I don’t come peacefully?”

“Only if you use your powers.” She clarified. “Despite what you think of me, I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“Well, I’m not coming with you. Never will.” You stood from the table. You quickly turned and walked away from the table. You pulled out your phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Pick up, Clint.” You groaned, pulling out your cards as you rushed down the street.

“This is Hawkeye. I’m saving the world, or in a hospital bed. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you.” Clint’s voicemail came down the line.

“Merde.” You swore. “Clint, I’m in trouble.” You started but were unable to finish as you were pulled into an alleyway. Your phone fell to the ground as you broke out of the hold. With deft fingers, you threw a card at your attacker, watching as the energy caused a small explosion.

A high shriek echoed through the alleyway before a small man entered your line of sight.

“I thought Storm fried your ass, chéri.” You smirked as Toad clung to the wall.

“I always come back.” Toad laughed.

“Like a cockroach.” You said, tapping into kinetic energy and throwing another card.

Toad once again dodged the explosion, but as he was, you turned to run. Only to be stopped by Multiple Man and Mystique.

“You have to come with us, Y/N. It’s not really a choice.” Mystique said, stalking forward.

“You haven’t even said why I have to.” You commented, looking between them and Toad. “Losing your memory, old woman?”

“Magento wants you.” Multiple Man told you. “And what he wants, he gets.” He said, turning multiple.

“Erik needs to learn to live with disappointment.” You said, throwing more cards at the group. Toad let out another shriek, Mystique dodged, and you were lucky enough to get multiple man.

You made a move to run out the entrance only to be pushed back by the Blob.

“Once again,” Mistique started, recovering from her shock. “It wasn’t a choice.” She said as one of the Multiple Man shot forward and attached the collar to your neck.

“You son of a bitch.” You growled, turning and attempting to attack the version, only to be brought to your knees by an electric shock.

“I am sorry, Y/N.” Mystique apologized before turning to Multiple Man and nodding.

The last thing you saw before you blacked out from the pain was him turning the dial and Mystique walking away.

Non-reader POV

“Yoo-hoo.” A southern accent said as she entered the team’s shared living room. “Your robot let me up, Sug,” Rogue said as Tony stood to greet her. Only he, Bruce, and Wanda were currently in the room.

“Then, he did the right thing,” Tony said, embracing the woman.

The entire team had met Rogue and Gambit three years prior, and though Gambit could be a little hard to swallow, they all loved the woman.

“Oh, you’re sweet, Sug.” Rogue chuckled. “Is my daughter around? We were supposed to have lunch, and she never showed.” Rogue asked the three.

“I saw her leaving a couple hours ago,” Wanda told her. “But she never showed?”

“No. And she won’t pick up her phone. I’m getting a little worried.” Rogue told them. “If it were her daddy, I wouldn’t blink an eye, but Y/N always answers.”

“I could track her phone if that makes you feel better.” Tony offered.

“Please.” Rogue smiled at the man.

“Okay. JARVIS could you please track Y/N’s phone?” Tony asked the AI.

“Could you also bring Clint, Natasha, and Bucky down here?” Bruce added. “We can see if they know anything.”

“Miss Romanoff is on a mission. She left an hour ago.” JARVIS responded. “I have sent Y/N’s location to your phone, Mr. Stark.”

“And Y/N’s phone is,” Tony started, pulling up the file. “In an alleyway an hour away.”

“Who’s in an alleyway?” Clint asked, entering the room. “What are you doing here, Rogue? I thought you were with Y/N?” He further questioned, hugging the woman.

“She never showed,” Tony said. “JARVIS pull up any security footage involving Y/N LeBeau.”

“Wait, go back. What’s happening with Y/N? Where is she?” Clint asked.

“We don’t know. Y/N never came to lunch, and she won’t answer her phone.” Rogue explained to her daughter’s partner.

“Y/N is missing?” Bucky asked, entering with Steve. Bucky rushed to his boyfriend’s side and grasped Clint’s hand.

“Found her, sir,” JARVIS announced.

“Put it on the screen,” Tony said, leaning against the back of the couch.

“That’s Y/N, and that’s you,” Clint said, watching the scene before him.

“That ain’t me, Sug.” Rogue shook her head. “That’s my mother.” She said as the Rogue imposter flickered blue. “And that’s the brotherhood,” Rogue added, noticing the other mutants.

“How fast can we get Nat back here?” Clint asked as the feed cut out.

“Is there any new information?” Natasha demanded as she stormed into the living room.

“Nothing.” Clint shook his head.

“JARVIS can’t track her down?” Natasha asked.

“If he could, he would’ve,” Bucky told the woman, causing her to turn and glare at him.

“Don’t give me attitude, Barnes.” She snapped.

“Knock it off the pair of you,” Clint said. “We don’t have time for the two of you to argue. Anna, did you say the professor could track her down?”

“It’ll take time, but he should be able to.” The woman nodded. “I’ll head back to the house. Let him know what’s going on.” She stood and swayed.

“Woah there.” Clint held her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m fine.” She nodded. “I need to get back to the manor.”

“How about I drive you?” Tony offered. “Katniss, Cyborg, why don’t you fill Rushman in, and I’ll take Rogue to the manor. I can help explain things to the professor.”

“Sounds swell to me, darlin’.” Anna smiled. “I’ll call with any news.” She promised.

“As will we.” Clint nodded. “We’ll get her back, Anna.”

“I know we will.” Rouge nodded. “My mother may be many things, but she would never allow harm to come to her family. At least the old her wouldn’t. I just hope she’s still that woman.” She said before leaving with Tony.

“Upstairs now,” Clint growled at his partners. “I know the two of you are pissed at each other, but you need to put that to the side right now,” Clint said once they were upstairs. “Our girlfriend is missing,

and I can’t be worried about her and worrying about the two of ripping the other’s throat out.”

“Clint, we know not to let our feelings get in the way here,” Natasha assured him.

“You better. I promised Y/N she would come home to the two of you having sorted out your issues. I can’t be a liar now.” Clint murmured, the weight of the situation having hit him.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Clint,” Bucky promised, pulling him into an embrace. “Everything will be okay.”

Reader POV

“I was wondering when you’d come to see me.” You said, leaning against the wall. “You went through enough trouble to get me.”

“If I were to say I wish I did not have to involve you in this, would you believe me?” Erik asked, walking into the center of the room.

After being electrocuted until you passed out, you had awoken in a dark room with the collar still attached to your neck. The room was entirely made out of metal, preventing your escape with its lack of doors or windows.

“No, I wouldn’t.” You said, causing the man to chuckle.

“You’re more your father’s daughter than you realize.” He commented.

“Did you bring me here to talk about family trees?” You asked, raising a brow.

“Somewhat yes.” Erik nodded. “Your father stole something from me, and I want it back.”

“I bet I can guess what he stole.” You smirked, looking at his helmetless head.

“Astute observation."

"You’re not getting it back if my father stole it. He’ll have gotten far away and hidden that helmet of yours.” You told him.

“Well, you’re right about one thing,” Erik smirked, waving his hand and causing the metal wall to open up. “He did hide the helmet.” He said as your father was thrown into the room and onto the floor.

“Dad.” You gasped, rushing to his side.

“I’m fine, chérie.” He assured you, sitting up with a groan. “Not my first time being thrown around.”

“And it won’t be your last. I don’t take well to thieves, and I don’t have time for this. Tell me where my helmet is.” Magneto demanded.

“I’m sorry, connard.” Your father shook his head. “But, your helmet is long gone by now.”

“You’ve just sealed your own fate,” Erik said. “What comes next is your father’s fault.” He told you before opening the panel and leaving the two of you alone.

“Dad, are you okay?” You asked the man.

“Depends, are there normally two of you?” He groaned, holding a hand to his head. “Dat big one got me in the head. I’ll be fine.”

“Dad, why did you steal from Magneto of all people?” You asked as he took your hand.

“Charles asked for my help. He said Erik was plannin’ something. He wanted to stop ‘im.” Your father said. “I got the helmet, and I got as far as I could. But they found me, jokes on ‘em, I always got a backup plan. I got it away, and in two days, it’ll arrive on Charles’ doorstep with a note of where we are.”

“So, he’ll be able to find us?”

“He’ll be able to find us chérie.” He promised, wrapping an arm around you. “We’re going to get out of here. I promise. I’m sorry I got you dragged into this.”

“I don’t blame you, dad. Not in the slightest.”

Non-reader POV

“I’m sorry, but I can’t reach her.” Charles apologized, pulling off Cerebro. “I can’t locate her whatsoever.”

“Does that mean she’s,” Clint trailed off as Rogue tightened her grip on his hand.

“I don’t know.” Charles shook his head.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Bucky asked. “I thought that machine was supposed to be able to find anyone.”

“It is. It does. There are only two reasons that could be Y/N’s in a room made of metal or she has,” Charles trailed off.

“She’s been gone for two days. This is bullshit!” Bucky yelled, storming out.

“I’ll talk to him,” Natasha said, racing after him.

“Clint, you stay here. I think I should talk to them.” Rogue said, walking after the two.

“Barnes, you need to calm the fuck down.” Rogue could hear as she came closer to the two.

“Like you can talk. I saw what you did to the training room last night.” Bucky scoffed. As Rogue turned a corner, she saw Bucky aggressively pacing as Natasha leaned against the wall.

“At least I’m not taking my anger out on other people,” Natasha said. “Something you’ve been doing for days.”

“And what does that mean?” Bucky snapped, spinning to face her.

“It means you two got some communication issues, Sarg,” Rogue announced her presence. “Don’t think none of us noticed. Ya’ll is as subtle as a zebra in a herd of horses. Want to tell me what’s eating away at the two of ya?”

“Anna, it’s not that big a deal,” Bucky told her, making Natasha scoff.

“Don’t lie to the woman,” Natasha said before turning to her girlfriend’s mother. “He’s been in a mood with me for the past week, and combined with Y/N’s kidnapping, he’s taking it out on everyone else.”

“The four of ya’ll are so in love, don’t think I’ve ever seen any of ya argue. Not even once. Must be important.” Rogue said as she walked closer. “Talk to me. You won’t be able to help Y/N if you aren’t talking with one another.”

Natasha and Bucky shared a look before the man let out a sigh.

“Nat brought up starting a family last week. Clint and Y/N were on the fence, neither of them really cared what happened. But Nat’s for, and I’m not.” Bucky admitted.

“So, you’re not happy because he don’t want a family?” Anna asked Natasha.

“It’s not that.” Bucky cut in.

“Buck wants kids. He’s already made that clear. I’m not mad that he said no then. I’m mad because his reasoning is he thinks he’s too dangerous to be a father.” Natasha explained to her almost mother-in-law.

“I’m a monster, Natasha. A murderer.” Bucky told her.

“Darlin’, you’re one of the sweetest monsters I ever met,” Rogue said. “You’re standing in a house of people who society has labeled as monsters. Some of us have done things we are not proud of. Myself included. I killed three men before I realized what my gift was.”

“But that wasn’t your fault.” Bucky protested.

“And whatever you’ve done in your past isn’t yours either. I know your story, James. It wasn’t your fault. The blood is not on your hands, it’s on theirs.” Rouge smiled at him. “And if after all this, should the four of you start a family, I know that baby will be raised by the most loving parents it could get.”

“You’re really good at putting things in perspective.” Natasha chuckled.

“Where do you think Y/N gets it from?” Rogue smiled. “Are the two of you ready to join the others now?”

“Yeah. I have to apologize to Charles anyway.” Bucky nodded.

“We have news,” Charles said as the three re-entered the room. “Good news. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Rogue asked, rushing towards the professor. “Were you able to find her with Cerebro?”

“No, with Remy.” He said as Clint handed over a parcel.

Rogue smirked as she pulled out Magneto’s famed helmet.

“That man can steal anything.” She chuckled, putting the helmet down and pulling out a letter.

“That he can. He’s also always got a backup plan.” Charles said as she read through the letter.

“What does it say?” Natasha asked Anna.

“It says where they are.” Rogue looked up at her.

“That doesn’t answer the question of why it’s mostly good news,” Bucky said, folding his arms.

“Erik has a Gem of Cyttorak,” Charles told him. “And he intends to use it. All he needs is a test subject.”

Reader POV

“Chérie, you need to stop pacing.” Your father said, having watched you paced the length of the room for the past few hours.

“I can’t help it.” You groaned. “We’ve been in here for god knows how long, we still have these stupid collars on, and I have a bad feeling after what you said about the Gem of Cyttorak."

"Chérie, you’re working yourself up.” He said as he stood. “There’s nothing we can do right now. We have no weapons and no powers. We have no options, but wait for an opening.”

“I hate how calm you are right now.” You sighed as he pulled you into an embrace.

“Been doing this a long time, ma fille.” He chuckled. “I thought you would be used to this too.”

“Never been kidnapped before, dad.” You told him. “I’m normally too good for them to get.”

“Welcome to my world.” He laughed, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “We’re going to get out of here. I’m going to get you out of here.” He said before the metal wall creaked open.

“There are few things I don’t take well to,” Magento stated as he floated into the room with the Blob and Mystique following him. “One of those things are thieves.”

“I stole from you. I get it. But my daughter, she had nothing to do with it. She didn’t even know I was here.” Your father stepped forward.

“I understand that, but she’s needed.” Magento nodded.

“For what?”

“Your daughter is a publicly accepted mutant. The homo-sapiens are not afraid of her, they love her. We are still not accepted by all, but your daughter could be the step forwards.” Erik explained.

“I am an advocate for mutant rights. Everyone knows that. I am doing what I can to show them we are not dangerous.” You said, moving to your father’s side.

“But you could do more if you were more powerful. I can enhance your powers.” Erik said as the Blob stepped forward.

“The gem.” You whispered, eyes widening in realization.

“Dat don’t work like that, Erik. You know what happened to the last three.” Your father growled, putting his arm in front of you.

“I believe I have perfected it. And if not, let it serve as a warning to not steal from me.” Magneto said as the Blob picked your father up and threw him into the wall behind you.

“Dad!” You exclaimed, wishing to rush to his side only to be grabbed by the Blob.

“Erik, this wasn’t what we discussed. You mentioned nothing about putting my granddaughter through that.” Mystique said as the Blob wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground.

“Plans change, Raven. You once said you would do anything for mutant kind. Don’t make a liar of yourself.” Erik told her as the three moved out of the room, with you struggling in the Blob’s hold.

“Raven, I’m your family. Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to mom, to your daughter.” You begged, attempting to rip yourself out of his grasp.

“If this works, you will be improving life for all mutant-kind,” Erik told you.

“I am already doing that.” You snapped. “I am showing them we are not a threat. If you do this, you are giving them something to be scared of.”

“Maybe they need to be afraid,” Erik said, opening yet another wall to reveal an almost medically set up room. “Now, if this works, your powers will be enhanced beyond what you ever thought. You will be more powerful than that team of yours combined.”

“I don’t want to be more powerful.” You said as Blob walked you towards a large chamber.

“Unfortunately, there are several side effects to the process,” Erik continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “For one, we’ve noticed subjects come out without the capability of emotions. A small sacrifice for the advancement of our kind.” He shrugged.

“Raven, please don’t let him do this.” You begged as the chamber door opened. “For me. For your daughter. For yourself, christ.” You said as the collar was ripped off you, and you were thrown into the chamber.

The vault door sealed itself quickly, and you were trapped. You let out a loud scream as you waved your hand and threw a great burst of pure kinetic energy at the door. It budged, but it did not open.

“No more of that,” Erik said as he began the process before you could throw another burst.

A yell escaped you as the process started. You threw another blast at the vault door but fell to your knees as the light began to fill the chamber.

“No!” Raven yelled after you let out another yell. Loud grunts and thuds entered your ears before the light shut off, and the vault door opened.

Hands pulled you up and wrapped your arm around their neck before you were dragged out of the chamber.

“What did you do to them?” You asked, taking note of Magneto and the Blob’s unconscious forms.

“Chloroform bomb,” Raven said as she pulled you out of the room and into the hall. “Prototype I’m working on.” She commented.

“Where’s my dad?” You asked her.

“We’re getting him. And then the two of you are getting out of here.” She said, pulling you around a corner.

“What about you?” You asked her.

“I haven’t done anything right since you were knee-high. Maybe before that. If I can just give you two time to get out, maybe it’s a start.” She said, coming to a wall and pressing her hand to a different colored panel.

The wall slides open, and you saw your father in the middle of the room.

“Ma fille.” He gasped, rushing towards you and taking you off Raven. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything. I’m the reason Y/N got out. And the reason you’re both gonna get out. Now go.” Raven urged the two of you.

“I’m afraid no-one’s going anywhere,” Magento announced as the metal walls came to life and pinned the three of you to them. “Except back in that chamber.”

“I don’t think so.” You said, attempting to pull away.

“And why is that?” He turned his attention to you.

“You left me uncollared.” You smirked, sending out the largest blast of energy yet.

Magento soared through the air but tightened the metal holding you. You, your father, and Raven all let out loud cries of pain as the grip became unbearable.

The Blob hurtled through the kinetic energy, collar in hand, as Toad appeared from nowhere.

Toad stole the collar from the Blob’s hand and climbed the walls to reach you. You let out an enraged cry as he snapped it back on your neck.

“Fuck!” You snapped as your energy wave was cut off, and you were left powerless. Again.

“I am going to enjoy rendering you an emotionless sieve. Our people suffer, and you fight against us.” Erik growled, floating forward. “When you see the light, you will realize, we are one. Right now, all you are is alone.” He said, stopping front of you and gripping your face.

Before you could spit at the man, comment, or otherwise, multiple shots rang through the air. Erik let out a shout as he was hit.

“We have a different definition of alone,” Bucky said as he appeared at the end of the hallway.

“Of course.” Erik scoffed. “The homo-sapien is standing in the way of progress.” He said, pulling out the bullet.

“Once again, different definitions,” Clint said as he and Natasha joined at Bucky’s side. Clint shot a plastic-tipped arrow at Magneto as Natasha handed Bucky a new gun.

“You think three of you can even match one of us?” Magneto asked, clicking his fingers. “Toad, Blob, teach our guests exactly we’re capable of.”

As your partners easily began to outmatch Magento’s goons, Mystique began to move in her binds. Your eyes were drawn to her and you watched as the woman shrunk into a mouse and slipped out her imprisonment.

As Magneto was too distracted watching the fight, he failed to notice Raven scurry across the floor and shift back to her blue form.

Raven first moved to your father and began pulling on the man’s collar. With a small grunt, she was able to rip it off, but she alerted Magneto to what she was doing.

Your father didn’t waste any time as he used the energy to free himself and pulled a pack of cards out of one of his many pockets.

“52 explosives on hand.” He smirked, throwing a handful of them at Magneto as Mystique moved to you.

“Hold still.” She said, putting her hands on the collar. Mystique ripped the collar from your neck and you managed to get yourself out of the bindings.

Turning to the scene before you, you smiled. Toad was stuck in his own tongue, Blob lay sprawled on the floor unconscious and Erik was pinned to the floor with your father’s energy and two arrows stuck in his shoulders.

“Doll,” Bucky said, rushing forward to pull you into an embrace. A content sigh escaped you as you sagged in his grip and your two other lovers joined you and Bucky.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked, turning your face to her. “Both of you?” She asked your father.

“Fine, chérie.” Your father nodded, leaning against a wall. “Mighta crushed a rib but I’m fine.”

“Yeah I might be able to taste my spleen, but I’m good.” You smiled.

“We might need to take you two to medical,” Clint said. “Let’s get you back to the jet. Anna’s worried sick about the pair of you.” He added, causing Erik to laugh loudly.

“You’re too late.” Erik chuckled. “None of you are making it out of this building.” He said.

“What did you do?” Raven demanded of him. “Erik, what did you do?”

“If I’m correct, this building won’t be standing in three minutes. It’ll be eviscerated from the Earth along with anyone in it.” Erik said as Bucky dragged him off the floor.

“We need to get moving.” He said as Natasha lifted the Toad off the ground.

“Hang on.” You stopped Bucky, grabbing the collar off the ground. Without a word, you clamped it onto Magneto’s neck. “Let’s go.” You said, raising the Blob.

The six of you began to book it to the exit. Natasha, Clint, and Bucky were in the front of the group as they knew where to go and you were slightly trailing.

Time continued to pass and the exit was drawing near. You were so close when you were grabbed from behind. A grunt left you as Multiple Man threw you to the floor, the Blob dropping behind you.

You shot a ray of energy at him as said man turned multiple. You shot to your feet as you continued to hit him with energy. The man continued to multiply and was closing in on you.

Several gunshots made you jump and you smiled as Natasha and Mystique rushed towards you, helping you take out Multiple Man.

“The two of you get out of here.” Mystique said, pushing the two of you towards the exit. “I’ll grab these two.”

“But the bomb.” You protested as Natasha pulled you towards the exit.

“This is my start. Go!” She said firmly. You gave your grandmother a nod before allowing Natasha to pull the two of you to an exit.

As the two of you made it out of the building you were brought into a tight embrace from your mother.

“Thank God you’re okay, buttercup.” Your mother said, squeezing you tightly.

“We gotta get away from the building,” Natasha said, guiding the two of you to a safe distance.

“Where’s Raven?” Your father asked as the three of you approached the rest of the gang.

“She’ll be out in a second,” Natasha explained, resting her head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“She has ten before it’s over.” Erik laughed. “She won’t make it.”

“Shut your filthy mouth.” Your mother snapped, allowing Clint to pull you into his side. “She’ll make it.” She said, turning back to the building.

The entirety of the group turned with her to watch, wait, for Raven to stumble out. The seconds continued to pass and your mother let out a cry as the building blew. Debris flew, smoke and flames rose, and the building fell.

Raven did not walk out.

“It was a lovely service,” Natasha said, running her fingers through your hair. “I think she would have liked it.”

“It wasn’t really for her anyway.” You shrugged. “It was more for mom. They’ve been fighting for so long, and just when I thought they’d be fine grandma went and died. At least I know what kind of woman she was.”

“From what you’ve said she wasn’t a great mother or grandmother,” Clint started, squeezing your hand. “But she knew what counted in the end. She saved you and your father.”

“I’m just glad you’re home,” Bucky said, resting his chin on Clint’s shoulder and smiling at you. “Home and safe.”

“I’m just glad you’re not fighting anymore.” You smiled back at him.

“Your mother talked some sense into us. She’s pretty good at it.” Natasha told you.

“She is.” You agreed.

“And it’s not the time now, but she did convince us that we should really sit down and discuss everything we need to,” Natasha added. “So hopefully there’s no more fighting over things we should be really talking about.”

“Your mom got them to stop fighting.” Clint chuckled. “That woman is an angel.”

“I’ll let her know you think so.” You said, smile glued to your face now.

The past week had been a roller coaster of ups and downs. There were a lot of bad things that had happened, but there were silver linings. And one you could think of right now was, no more fighting in your group.

Remember to ask if you want to be tagged. If you enjoy my writing please consider buying me a coffee.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @miyaeadys-blog @bindythedemon @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover

Natasha Romanoff Taglist

@natasha-danvers @5aftermidnight @ohfuckno

131 notes · View notes

rhetorical-ink · 5 years ago

Text

Rhetorical Ink Reviews: Cats 2019

Also known as, “The Movie That Nearly Broke Me.”

**PURRRRFECTLY PLACED SPOILERS BELOW**

Okay, so my best friend and I saw this film today on New Year’s Eve -- it was $5 movie day at the theater and we had heard it was bad. What a better way to cap off this year and decade, right?

To set the scene, the woman at the ticket counter commented, “I haven’t seen it, but I’ve heard mixed reviews.” Another employee said, as we were about to walk in the theater, “I heard it was pretty bad.” Votes of confidence all around, y’all.

Little did I know what was about to happen. I could easily do a Top Twenty WTF moments of this movie....which is exactly what I’m going to do.

My Top TWENTY (because it’s needed) Thoughts on Cats the Movie:

20. Meeting Victoria

The movie starts with a cat being dumped in an alley -- this is Victoria, a humanoid (more on that below) cat that is reluctantly approached by the rest of the alley cats. They question whether she will fit in as a “Jellicle Cat,” and we get an instant music number where they describe all of the traits of a Jellicle Cat, which we can assume is their “Group” or “Tribe.” The only point that is slightly odd is that their “traits” that define a Jellicle Cat...are basically traits of all cats. Is this group just unaware? Is this a cult? More. On. This. Be-Low.

19. Munkustrap

So, my favorite cat in this whole thing is Munkustrap -- or rather, the actor playing Munkustrap. Seriously, this man is giving 10000% and after researching, you find out he is a Tony-nominated ballet dancer --- IT MAKES SENSE. If you can get a chance to watch this -- watch his movement and facial expressions in every scene. The man is clawing up the scenery and his intensity is terrifying.

18. And Then...There’s Rebel Wilson.

Okay, speaking of terrifying. About 10 minutes into the movie, we’re introduced to Rebel Wilson. If you’ve watched the trailers and seen her -- those are the TAME scenes. Seriously, my friend and I were questioning whether this film was okay or bad, and then...Rebel Wilson is introduced.

Her musical number made me say out loud, “WTF” about seven times. There is nothing I can do to prepare you for animated mice with children faces or cockroaches with female faces who are being eaten alive by a furry Rebel Wilson. If people walked out at this point, I would not have blamed them 1%.

17. James Corden and Rebel Wilson Don’t Fit In This Movie.

In all fairness, much of the cast are ballet or dancers and Broadway voices -- which is great for a musical. James Corden and Rebel Wilson completely throw off the tone of the film. Their jokes are not humorous, and both characters rely on self-deprecation...their scenes are probably among the strangest in the film, and completely ruin the tone of the film as it goes.

16. Jason Derulo Had His Genitals Digitally Removed.

So, I read a headline last week with that information leaked, and that clung to my mind the entire time Derulo sings as his character, Rum Tug Tugger...to be fair, he is a great voice and his song was catchy. But... once you know, you won’t get that image out of your mind as you watch.

15. The Twins are Creepy...and Boring.

Victoria stumbles upon two twin calico cats that mischievously rummage around a house -- before stirring up the house dog and abandoning Victoria. Their song isn’t bad -- it’s almost catchy -- but the scene goes on sooooo long, that it’s probably the only music number that drags and just feels overly long.

14. Proportions are....not a thing?

One thing you may notice in the gifs are that proportions for these cats are odd -- in the scene with the twins, Victoria holds up a gown, and it’s as big as her, but in the next shot, she is wearing a human ring as a bracelet.

This happens throughout the movie, as the proportions are never proper. Sometimes the cats seem normal sized in comparison to the man-made props around them. And at other times, they seem the same size as humans or the size of the creepy human-faced mice. The inconsistency is instantly noticeable.

13. Victoria doesn’t...talk...much.

I’m not sure if this is addressed in the actual Broadway production, but in the movie, Victoria rarely speaks. Perhaps she is just a voice for the audience, but most of her action in the movie is through expression and dancing alone. Which is fine, I suppose, but as a protagonist, her lack of voice creates a lack of agency, and so when she is integral to the plot of Grisabella (Jennifer Hudson’s character), it seems a little forced.

By this point, I’m sure I seem like this review is pretty tame...well, now let’s dive into the bonkers points that happen from here on out in this film, because it gets BONKERS.

12. Judy Dench and those Toenails

As you have probably noticed in the trailer, these cats have very humanoid features -- what you probably miss is that their hands and feet are UNEDITED. Meaning, that while you’re looking at a digital cat on screen, these digital cats have HUMAN hands and feet. At one point, Judy Dench’s purple toenail polish is present -- Jennifer Hudson’s perfect plum manicure is noticeable, too -- and Judy’s wedding ring is visible in most shots.

It really makes me question how in the WORLD these shots got into a final product -- or why they released this film if it wasn’t complete...was there a deadline to make it before the new year? This is SO distracting that it took up a lot of my time watching the film.

11. Hands, all the human feet and hands...

Additionally, these are very humanoid cats -- I understand that the Musical on Broadway is just people in cat suits, but if you’re going to the extreme of creating entirely CGI characters --- why not make them literal cats? Instead of these weird alien-like creatures who sometimes wear clothing and sometimes are nude well, basically with a thin layer of fur on them?

10. Ian McClellan

Similar to Munkustrap, Sir -- SIR -- Ian McClellan gives his small role 100%, even down to acting VERY cat-like throughout. He can’t sing well, though. Better than Russell Crowe, but no Judy Dench, who also hams up her performance, well, at least until the ending.

9. Taylor Swift and the Musical Number that Actually Works

In all honesty, Taylor Swift’s musical number introducing the villain of the piece, whom we’ve seen throughout the entire production, so I’m not sure why we’re doing this, but here we are --

--ahem, anyway, her musical number is one of the best, but it’s still a mind trip, as she basically sprinkles catnip on the crew and they all start writhing on screen.

Also, did they make her breasts larger? Is that a thing? Is it just me?

8. MaCavity and Things I Can’t Unsee

Idris Elba plays the villainous MaCavity, who has been trying to one-by-one pick off the cats that could qualify as “chosen” by Judy Dench. His role is a basically hammy one, but it gets worse...

At the start of the movie, he has a cap and trench coat that make him look extra villainous, but as he’s revealed by Swift’s cat, he ditches these garments.

It was hard to find a gif of this, but it’s basically a naked Idris Elba with a tail...and if you’re thinking to yourself, “Oh, that sounds hot!” No, no it is not. It was disturbing and I won’t ever be able to watch this actor without seeing him with a thin layer of fur all over him.

7. The Magical Mr. Mistoffelees...

As you’ve probably noticed at this point, the “Plot” if it can be called that is practically non-existent in this movie. The only elements of action we get are that Macavity is trying to kidnap the other cats so he can be chosen by Judy Dench’s cat, Deuteronomy.

Unfortunately, Dench vows not to choose him, so he kidnaps her...to...change...her mind? It doesn’t make sense, and he even threatens her life if she doesn’t pick him. If he kills her, how will that help him get picked?

In any case, Mr. Mistoffelees, who has THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE MOVIE told everyone that he’s a “magical” cat and can do magic, is suddenly asked if he can bring Deuteronomy back through magic....and he’s NOT SURE IF HE IS CONFIDENT ENOUGH TO DO SO.

It’s such a cop out and leads to an overly long song about everyone telling him he can do magic, until he finally does the thing and brings Judy Dench back to the other Jellicle Cats.

I don’t mind Mr. Mistoffelees’s character, but don’t tell us you’re one thing the entire movie and then “puss out” (pun absolutely intended at this point) on the very identity feature you’ve drilled into our brains.

6. Suspension of Belief...and Physics...

In addition to the proportions being off in this entire movie, so is the suspension of physics and belief, especially after Mr. Mistoffelees brings back Deuteronomy.

You can see in the gif below that magic starts happening everywhere to celebrate (glad we’re confident of our abilities NOW) and later with Grisabella and the climax, there’s a huge shift from reality to fantasy. Movie, what ARE YOU?!

5. Grisabella’s Plight?

Jennifer Hudson’s cat, Grisabella, is portrayed as an outcast who comes crawling (literally) back to the Jellicle Cats...it’s not clear whether she is wanting the chance to be chosen or not. But the other cats hate her and shun her...except the newbie, Victoria. She convinces Grisabella to come back and sing to the other cats her story. Which she does, and this changes everyone’s mind, including Deuteronomy’s.

My issue is...what did Grisabella do? Other than run off with Macavity, who never even addresses her in the movie, what did she do? Why do the cats hate her? We never really learn this, which makes it just seem like hollow bullying. And maybe that’s it, but if it is, there needed to be SOMETHING more to give us a reason to care about Grisabella and her plight in the film.

4. “MEMMMMMORRRRIIIIEEEESSSS!!”

Okay, yes, J. Hud. can sing. REALLY, really well. And the climax of “Memories” is done well -- it’s just....not as good as Elaine Page. There. I said it -- I’ve only seen that number from the original Broadway show, but it’s true. Page knocks it out of the park.

I think part of the problem is that the movie doesn’t let Hudson go all out -- she does that dramatic musical moment, but then her voice and the song is restrained and just peters off...you don’t hold Jennifer Hudson back in a solo, ya here?

3. Trading a Tire for a Hot Air Balloon

In the original musical, Grisabella is chosen to be reborn and rides away from the set on a tire -- which begs the question: Is this a representation that she was run over? Is that how she is “reborn?” It would be an interesting concept to think about, but here, they just fix up the chandelier (through magic, or whatever at this point) and it becomes a hot air balloon that carries her away. Any possible conversation that could be created in this moment is sacrificed for a magical deus ex machina...and I hate it.

2. Judy Dench Came For Our Souls, Y’All

The resolution of this film is what killed my brain.

Judy Dench looks DIRECTLY into the camera,

DIRECTLY into our souls,

and proceeds to give a lengthy and unnecessary review of why cat names are important -- which really has been the thesis of this movie, hasn’t it?

There is an interjected chorus between her speaking, but seriously, this ending is longer than Return of the King -- and her looking right at us the audience only made me feel more and more uncomfortable -- to the point where I was laughing, and crying, and feeling like a puddle of mush.

1. My Mouth During This Whole Film...

...Was agape. Seriously, this movie is not just bad; it’s unfinished, confused on its adaptation, and just bonkers. The only things that possibly work are the vocals, with the exception of McClellan, but the lyrics and premises are just so bizarre that good singing can’t save your brain being completely confused as to what it’s watching.

If you can get a cheap seat, or go to a $5 cinema like I did, you could see this with a group of friends as a joke.

But otherwise, AVOID this. It’s the 2010′s version of The Room.

Perhaps fun to watch as a cult film when it’s free on streaming later, but not worth the money now, sadly.

#Cats #Cats 2019 #Cats the Movie #Munkustrap #rum tug tugger #Macavity #Taylor Swift #Rebel Wilson #Victoria #Jennifer Hudson #Judy Dench #Ian McClellan #Mr. Mistoffelees #nightmare fuel #James Corden #Rhetorical Ink Reviews #Rhetorical Ink

96 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Galactica, Chapter 4 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Thank you so much to anyone who’s liked or commented. You guys are awesome! We are attempting to post a chapter a week, so hopefully we can keep that up for awhile! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet’s living situation was about to improve, and she got to spend some quality time with Pearl.

This Chapter: Fame begins to doubt the new collection, and Violet finally gets into her new apartment--with some surprising new neighbors.

***

Fame groaned as she finally managed to open the front door to the Galactica floor after fumbling with her keycard for what felt like forever.

The floor was dark, but as Fame walked past the reception desk, the automatic light turned on.

There was no one there, all of the employees at home since it was barely past 7 am. Fame didn’t usually show up until after 9, having her mornings with Patrick and walking her dog herself an important part of starting her day right, but sometimes Fame preferred the quiet.

There was a certain peace in an empty office, and she desperately needed the peace.

She walked down the corridor, passing by the ever-expanding clothing racks that seemed to grow like cockroaches on the hallways, someone always working on something in one of the offices.

Fame was normally not one for contemplation, her heart always telling her where to go, but what she had seen of their own collection yesterday had left a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach.

She had been so happy when they had conceptualized it, had been so excited to see it go into production, but now that she had it, now that Trixie could present piece after piece of physical clothing, Fame had a nagging feeling that it was not good enough, not good enough at all.

She turned the corner and stopped when she saw that the light was on in her office and the front office where Violet resided.

As she walked closer, she saw Violet sitting at her desk, steam coming from a takeaway cup and Fame recognized the vanilla scent of her morning order. She had actually wondered how Violet always had a hot cup ready, and it seemed like the clever girl simply ordered multiples every single day.

Violet nibbled on an apple, her feet tucked underneath her as she tapped away on her keyboard, the printer spitting out a chunk of paper every once in a while.

Before Fame knew it, she had spent several minutes just standing there, observing Violet go about her workday before anyone else had even come in.

Just then, Violet looked up, almost dropping her apple when she saw Fame standing in the door. She jumped up from her chair, and Fame had to hide a smile when she saw that Violet was wearing sneakers with her Prada dress.

“Miss!” Violet maneuvered around her desk. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you would be here this early.” Fame handed Violet her jacket, the other woman quickly hanging it up.

“Is there any news about my new assistant?” Fame took the coffee from the table. It wasn’t scalding hot like she preferred it, but she wasn’t inclined to wait while her assistant got her another one.

“Yes.” Violet nodded, grabbing a stack of papers from the printer, and Fame realized she had probably been printing resumes. “We should be ready to bring in some candidates by next Tuesday.”

“Good-” Fame held her hand out, taking the stack. “I expect you to pre-interview each and every one of them before I see them.” She wanted a competent assistant, and had no intention of suffering through the first round of the blubbering fools HR always seemed to think would be appropriate for her. “Remember, only perfection is acceptable.”

***

Violet’s eyes were resting on Raja and Fame in the rearview mirror. They were in a town car, Violet instantly climbing into the front with the driver. Violet never spoke unless she was spoken to, her presence in the car only required in case she would be needed.

It was fascinating to watch Raja and Fame interact. They had worked together for so long that it seemed like they knew each other inside and out. It was as if they shared a creative mind, and had an intimate understanding of exactly what the other one was talking about.

Normally, Violet would be listening in, imagining what her own professional life could maybe be one day, but today, however, Violet was thoroughly distracted.

She was so happy, so relieved, to be moving, that she could almost dance in her seat. Yesterday, when she had been sent the pictures of the vacant apartment, she’d nearly cried with joy. It was beautiful - a small but perfect one-bedroom with a sweet little kitchen, central air, sparkling new bathroom fixtures, and even a French balcony. It was so far beyond anything she’d imagined she might have for years and years.

The fact that she was going to be packing all night in order to be ready for the movers tomorrow at noon didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Burning bridges was something Violet was used to, and she couldn’t wait to set this one on fire

“Violet-” Fame’s voice broke through Violet’s daydream of the strongly-worded email she’d send to her landlord. “Violet, have you gone deaf?”

“No Miss. Sorry.”

“I need a pen.”

Violet reached into her bag, Fame acknowledging her only to take it, and then it was back to being invisible as Fame turned her attention to Raja.

This time, however, Violet couldn’t help but listen.

“I realize that you don’t agree-” Fame put the pen to the sketches she and Raja were looking at, “but don’t you think that the lines are too jarring?” Fame did a small correction, the emeralds on her fingers shining in the light. “And this color story, the more I look at it, the more I-”

Violet knew she wasn’t supposed to listen, but she reached into her bag, grabbing her phone, sending a quick left hand text to Trixie.

Fame worried abt collection dislikes colors v v weird vibe

It felt like going behind her boss’s back, but Violet knew Fame well enough to pick up on the note in her voice, in the furrow between her brows.

“Fame, darling,” Raja put a hand on Fame’s knee, her gold bangles clicking together, her tan skin standing out against the creamy white of Fame’s skirt. “You do this to yourself every time,” Raja soothed, her voice surprisingly soft. “It’s all beautiful. We’ll go back to the office, we’ll have a cup of tea, and you’ll see-”

“Don’t patronize me,” Fame snapped, pulling her knee away from Raja’s grasp.

“Don’t act crazy.” Raja rolled her eyes. “I hate to see you stress over something that will be magnificent.”

It seemed like Raja had completely forgotten that Violet was in the car, her ability to make herself invisible once again biting her in the ass since she was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to see this display of affection.

“Bianca would agree that something isn’t right,” Fame huffed slightly, crossing her arms, and Violet stifled a tiny laugh.

Bianca Del Rio was editor-in-chief of Marie Claire, one of Fame and Raja’s dearest friends, and possibly the scariest person Violet had ever met. Anyone who thought Fame was too tough would probably just wither and die within 30 seconds of being around Bianca. What amused Violet was that her boss treated the infamous hard-ass like she was the sweetest, most adorable person in the universe.

“Well, Bianca doesn’t work here,” Raja countered, adding, “Thank god.” She leaned her head on her hand, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Fame pursed her lips, turning to look out the window, and Raja seemed to change tactics.

She slung an arm around Fame’s shoulder, her voice sugary sweet. “Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight?” Raja tugged on one of Fame’s golden earrings, the emeralds on it matching her ring. “Raven promised she wouldn’t cook.”

“Thanks,” Fame chuckled, “but no thanks. I promised Patrick I would pay him attention for the first time all week.”

“Fair enough,” Raja sat back up. “Have a nice night with your husband. Have a few drinks and forget that I exist over the weekend.” Raja smirked. “I have plans of my own anyway.”

***

Bianca rolled over as her phone buzzed on the nightstand, reaching over Derrick’s sleeping form to answer it. The fact that she was still awake, obsessing over the new printing contracts, didn’t change the fact that it was far too late (or too early) for any rational person to be calling.

There were only two people it might be, and she prayed that it wasn’t Adore, because she was not in the mood for whatever shenanigans her baby sister might have gotten herself into this time. Glancing at the screen, she let out a sigh of half relief, half irritation when she saw that it was Fame. And worse, she was FaceTiming.

“Hey Blondie. What’s wrong?” Bianca answered, voice hoarse.

“Why would something be wrong?” asked Fame, blue-gray eyes widening innocently.

“Well, it’s 3 am. So if nothing’s wrong, I’m gonna hang up and we can resume when the sun comes up…”

“Wait!” Fame said, then furrowed her brow, asking, “Who’s that?”

Bianca glanced at the tousled blonde head beside her.

“That’s Derrick.”

“Uh huh, and why haven’t I met her?”

“We’re not at that point yet,” Bianca told her, tilting the phone down and lifting the covers. “But if you really want, you can meet her ass.”

Bianca moved the phone closer, flash lighting up Derrick’s ass in a pair of boy-cut red panties.

“Bianca!” Derrick shrieked, slapping her hand away. “What the fuck?!”

“Nevermind, her ass isn’t in the mood.”

“Really, Bianca,” Fame clucked. “That poor girl.”

“Ugh!” Derrick moved over, unamused, putting a pillow over her head to block out the noise.

“So, blondie...you gonna tell me what this is about? Cause if not, I should really get to sleep. Rest my weary tongue.” Bianca grinned lasciviously at her, dimples deep in her cheeks.

After a moment, when she saw that Fame was neither laughing nor giving her a disapproving pout, she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“Seriously, Fame. Are you okay?” she asked, voice a bit softer.

“Yeah...I’m…” Fame sighed slightly, leaning her head on the arm of the sofa. “I just feel a bit...unsettled.”

“Unsettled about what?” Bianca asked. “Would this by any chance have to do with Fashion Week coming up?”

“Of course,” Fame said with a slight chuckle. “I should be feeling great. I mean, we’re ahead of schedule, for once, and everyone seems to love the direction, but I just...it feels a bit off.”

“What does Raja think?”

“Raja loves it the most, she thinks I’m crazy.”

“Well. You are. But you also have spot-on creative instincts, so maybe this is a time to trust yourself?” Bianca said.

“Mmmh.”

“Okay how’s this...tomorrow morning, once I get rid of Derrick here, I’ll pick up a couple bottles of Veuve and some fresh-squeezed orange juice, head over to your place, and we can spend the whole morning drinking mimosas and ripping the collection to shreds. What do you say?”

“Do I really have to wait until the morning?”

“Fraid so, blondie. Liquor stores are closed right now,” Bianca laughed.

“Well then, I say, great plan.”

“Perfect. So now can I fuckin’ sleep?” Bianca asked, an affectionate smile on her face.

Fame smiled back, nodding.

“Thank you, B.”

“Anytime.”

***

As Violet closed the door behind her, she couldn’t help but leave out a giant sigh of relief.

The movers had finished in record time, everything going smoother than she had dared to imagine, though she knew a big part of the seamless move was due to her barely owning any furniture.

Violet had never bothered to buy a bedframe for her last apartment, not that there would have been any space for it in the room she had rented anyway, so all she owned was a twin mattress, a sewing table that sometimes served as a desk and a single chair.

What did take up Violet’s space was all of her sewing equipment. The overlocker and sewing machine, who had been her trusted college companions, were sitting on top of her table while her embroidery frame and her mannequins were lying in a pile besides the big garbage bags she used to store her leftover fabric.

The apartment had a miniature walk-in closet, and Violet couldn’t wait to hang up her clothes, two racks holding all of her pieces.

Violet fished her work phone out of her bag. She unlocked it, the empty screen causing her to bite her lip. Violet would never prefer to be interrupted during the weekend, but there wasn’t a single text, voice memo or email from Fame. It was strange however, when taken into consideration how anxious she’d seemed the day before, and while Violet had no hard facts to lean against, she was still bracing for a storm.

Violet was pulled out of her thoughts by three hard, quick knocks on her door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so she opened it curiously to find a grinning Katya and mischievous looking Max, holding a basket full of tea, candles and a pastry Violet couldn’t place, the small cakes glistening with honey.

“Welcome to the building!” Katya exclaimed, flashing those blindingly white teeth.

“We’re so happy to have you join us,” Max added kindly, holding out the large basket.

“Umh…” Violet took the basket, too unsure to decide what leg she should stand on. “Hello?”

“Can we come in?” Katya smiled, holding up a flask. “I brought tea!”

“Oh, sure, but I don’t-” Violet wanted to say that she didn’t have a seat for them, but Katya was already making her way inside, Max following right behind her.

“Trixie would have come too, but he’s a bit in the weeds at the moment.” Katya put her thermos down on Violet’s kitchen counter, apparently not fazed at all by the lack of furniture as she pulled paper cups out of her bag, “tearing his hair out coming up with new ideas in case you’re right about Fame’s freak-out.”

“Shit-” Violet froze. She had only meant for the text to be helpful, to sooth her own anxiety over the look she had seen on Fame’s face. “I hope I didn’t-”

“No no, don’t worry.” Katya smiled, taking the basket back and putting that on the table too. “He’d much rather freak out now than when Fashion Week is closer.” Katya put one of the cakes on a little napkin she had pulled up from somewhere. “Medovik? Max?”

“Yes please.” Max smiled, taking the napkin Katya offered.

“Violet?”

“Thank you.” Violet took it, knowing for sure that she wasn’t going to eat all of it, her stomach too tight with worry about Trixie. She bit into it, the taste of honey exploding in her mouth. They all ate together, Katya chatting away while Max walked over to the rack beside her sewing table.

“What’s that?” Max pointed with a finger at a half-open garment bag.

“That?” Violet felt a warm glow spread in her body. “It’s my graduation project.” Violet put down her napkin, a giant smile on her face as she walked over. “Do you want to see it?” Violet touched the bag, the grey plastic crinkling between her fingers.

“Yes please!” Katya smiled brightly, Max nodding excitedly.

Violet pulled the dress out, a whoosh of excitement rushing through her. The dress was a floor length see-through gown, dripping in violet jewels, the glittering pieces covering the breasts and pouring out in an elegant waterfall down the skirt.

“Oh god, it’s gorgeous!” Katya clapped, and Violet nodded.

“I went for a bit of a neo-Victorian take.” Violet touched the shoulders and hips that were jutting out, both supported by beige boning. “I realised it might seem derivative to use violet, but it’s one of my favorite colors-”

“With good reason.” Max had stood up, the man now at Violet’s side as he reached out, gently touching the skirt.

“I can’t believe you made this.” Katya had joined them as well, the two of them standing side by side.

“I wanted to use real amethysts,” Violet supported the fabric, catching the setting sun in the stones, “but I didn’t have the budget. It was a pain in the ass to stitch all that plastic on.”

“Wait, you did this yourself?” Katya looked shocked. “It’s not prejeweled?”

Violet wanted to snort, or at least huff, the idea that she’d ever use prejeweled fabric actually kind of insulting.

“That must have taken weeks.”

“Believe me, it did.

“Wow.” Katya smiled. “That’s really dedicated. Fame sure is lucky to have you!”

***

“Shit-” Violet muttered under her breath as she tried to grab her keys. She could feel plastic dig into her elbow, her grocery bag heavy with all the things she had purchased.

She had only meant to get some rolled oats and a few emergency boxes of instant mashed potatoes, but when she had actually entered the store, Violet had made the realization that for the first time in her adult life, she had a kitchen that was entirely her own.

“I got it!” Violet heard the beep of the door opening as someone behind her swiped their key fob. She glanced over her shoulder to say thank you, only to bump into the last person she had ever expected to see on an early Sunday morning.

Pearl Liaison was standing right behind her, a surprised expression on her face that probably mirrored Violet’s own.

Pearl was wearing what was clearly last night’s outfit, her blonde hair collected in a braid down her back, the snow white globes of her small breasts boosted by a black corset.

Violet was frozen in place, shocked, as Pearl moved closer to her, an arm snaking over her shoulder.

“Hey Vivi.”

Was this real life? Was Pearl about to kiss her? Violet swore she could feel Pearl’s breasts against her own, their bodies touching.

But instead of a kiss, the blonde grabbed the door handle and pushed, tossing Violet an airy smile and gesturing for her to enter.

“Ladies first,” she said.

Still stunned, Violet let out an embarrassed scoff, saying, “You’re a lady, too.”

“Debatable,” Pearl replied with a grin, following her into the lobby. “So…I wondered if you’d be joining us here. When did you move in?”

“Yesterday.” Violet bit her lip.

“Ah. Awesome.” Pearl smirked. Violet swore she could feel Pearl’s eyes on her body, the woman smelling of tequila and cigarettes, the scent of sex lingering just underneath.

She lowered her eyes as Pearl brushed by her to climb the stairs, needing a moment to catch her breath. She tried to keep it together as last night’s skirt clung to Pearl’s ass. Before she disappeared around the corner, Pearl turned back to give Violet another cheeky grin.

“See you around, pumpkin.”

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #lesbian au #fashion au #pearlet #violet chachki #miss fame #raja gemini #bianca del rio #katya zamolodchikova #max malanaphy #pearl liaison

7 notes · View notes

shadowed-dancer · 5 years ago

Text

Cats 2019 Review (Spoilers)

So I FINALLY got to experience Cats the Movie (2019) and I have some thoughts. For context, I’ve seen the staged production and actually really enjoyed it!

You can find my review of the soundtrack here.

I wasn’t sure how to organize my thoughts in any coherent manner, so I decided to to a quick overview, a plot summary, then break it up into visuals, story, singing, changes, and other thoughts for those who want an in depth thing.

Overview

So overall, I didn’t hate this film. It was weird, but pretty par for the course compared to its source material. If you know the plot of cats then you’ll only be weirded out by some odd visual moments. If you know nothing about Cats the Musical, then you will be very confused. The best part imo was Mr. Mistofelees (the character, not the song).

Summary (of the film)

We start with Victoria (a white cat) being tossed into an alley and immediately she is found by a tribe of cats called the Jellicles

She learns that once a year, a Jellicle is chosen to ascend to the Heaviside layer (basically heaven) where that cat is then reborn into a new life. This decision is made by their leader, Old Deuteronomy, and is called the Jellicle choice

We learn that a cat must sing a song about themselves if they want to be chosen. There are some cats who introduce themselves with the desire to be chosen, and some who introduce themselves for the fun of it

Our contenders to be chosen are: Jennyanydots, Bustopher Jones, Gus, Skimbleshanks, Macavity, and Grizabella

The cats who introduce themselves for fun are: Rum Tum Tugger, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, and Mister Mistofelees

Macavity is the villain and kidnaps all the other contenders by teleporting them to his boat. That way he’d be the only one present once the choice is made

Old Deuteronomy refuses to choose him and is teleported away by Macavity, but she’s brought back by Mistofelees before she can be forced to walk the plank (no, I’m not kidding, that’s an actual line)

Oh yeah, side note. Macavity and Mistofelees have actual magical powers. It’s never explained how or why

Old Deuteronomy ends up choosing Grizabella, an outcast cat, and she flies away in a hot air balloon that’s also a chandelier

Visuals

I'm not sure if I saw the updated version but someone said if Judy Dench has a human hand with her wedding ring in the last scene, then it’s the old version. My version had that so I’m assuming I saw the original

The CGI fur wasn’t as horrifying as I feared but any time their feet were shown, the illusion was immediately broken

Also the mice and cockroaches looked so fake I couldn’t help but laugh

The cats also looked very fake in Skimbleshanks’ song, but I liked the song so I gave it a pass

Mistofelees’ ears weren’t really a consistent size. Like if he took off his hat his ears should have been way bigger than they actually were rendered to be

Actually nothing was a consistent size. Sometimes the cats looked way smaller compared to other scenes

Idk what was wrong with some of the clothing in this movie, but Jenny’s dance suit, Skimble’s suspenders, and Munkustrap’s collar looked like they were floating over their bodies

This is weird since all the coats in this movie look absolutely fine

Also at one point I made the mistake of looking at a background character and I saw her face was clearly not connected to her body

I thought I’d have to see Misto and Victoria kiss with their weird human mouths. Luckily I did not. Thank you for sparing me from that

At a few points the cat’s (human) nails extend into “claws” but they just look like longer human nails. Idk how to describe it.

Idris Elba looked very naked. Why did he ditch his coat at the end?

At one point Bustopher drinks some champagne (I think) and it spills all over his face and then literally evaporated as soon as it’s done. Like not even in the next shot, in one continuing shot the drink is gone from his fur

In the last scene, Jenny’s collar keeps popping in an out of existence between shots. I’m sure it was inconsistent throughout the film, but I noticed it at the end

Oh, and yes I saw the snot on Grizabella’s face and yes it was very distracting

Story

I was really confused about the rules of the Jellicle choice. They said you have to sing a song if you want to be chosen, but Jennyanydots and Bustopher Jones sing before Old Deuteronomy even shows up

Edit from the future: I saw the movie again and realized Jenny’s performance was a practice for her real performance. That’s why she packs up the cockroaches, it’s because she’s taking them to the actual venue.

This also explains the fact that she unzips her skin. It implies she made a suit to look like her skin for this big reveal. That’s weird in it’s own right, because it implies she made a suit to like like her own skin

Also apparently Rum Tum Tugger wasn’t trying to be the Jellicle choice (which makes sense, his life seems pretty good) because he's never taken away by Macavity

Macavity says “I’m the only contender here” while Tugger is in the room, so I’d assume that means a few cats are just introducing themselves for the heck of it (Tugger, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, and Mistofelees)

How did the other cats get off Macavity’s boat? I get that they fought back, but how did they actually get to the statue in time?

Overall the story is pretty much the same, only they gave Macavity more of a role

Singing

Yes, I know I reviewed the soundtrack already, but now with the context of the film I have some more thoughts

Jenny sounded like Miranda Sings when she sang “BuUuUuuuuuT” (idk how to describe that voice, but if you’ve heard Mirana you know what I mean)

Also she is not a tap dancer and I’m very sad

So turns out Beautiful Ghosts is sung to Grizabella. It really slows down the film because it’s right in between the first Memories and Gus’ song (both very slow songs)

I was not on board for Judy Dench as Old Deuteronomy, at least in the singing department. Acting wise she was great, but I couldn’t do the singing.

Also remember how I said Grizabella slurred her words? It REALLY stands out in the movie. Oh my gosh at one point I couldn’t tell what she said despite knowing the lyrics. I didn’t love her

It felt like she was singing for sadness, not for the emotion

Also the music really overtook her during the climax of the song and it took away from the emotion

Oh, the first bit of Mr Mistofelees is actually sung by Munkustrap! I couldn't tell from the recording. Just thought I’d point that out

And also Macavity appears after his song, so it’s not as weird timing wise as I thought

Changes

I actually didn’t hate the shy version of Misto they created. However, it was very hard to watch his song because I could feel the awkwardness radiating through the screen

I’m also upset that his song is no longer as fun and upbeat as it used to be. Like he almost bursts into tears at one point and I was just sitting there like “Wow, this is the exact opposite energy I was feeling at this point in the stage production”

I miss Jellylorum, but it was cute having Misto be like this big fan of Gus, that was adorable.

And yeah I didn’t hate Misto and Victoria together. I thought it was cute watching them interact

Misto didn’t dance and I felt ripped off

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer helped with the catnip scene, but when was this agreed upon? Before the movie took place?

Other

Not gonna lie, I actually laughed when Bustopher Jones went into a garbage can and Tugger was just chilling with 2 girls. And then Bustopher acts like it’s such a normal occurrence I found it funny

The film needed more Tugger, I was very disappointed in the lack of Tugger in this film. Even if it was just a running gag of him in random places with some cats like the garbage can bit, that would have been hilarious

The ending scene was horrifying sorry. Like I’m fine with eye contact, but that was too much

Victoria, Misto, and Munkustrap’s actors were fantastic

At one point Victoria was dancing on pointe but they edited it so she was barefoot, so she was on pointe on her actual toes (think that party scene in Titanic)

Misto has to wear an actual bow tie while Bustopher Jones has it as a pattern on his fur, which is reversed from the stage play? Why?

During Macavity’s song, when all the cats are high on catnip, Misto makes this weird expression while rubbing his face on the barstool and it was SO UNCOMFORTABLE TO WATCH. That whole scene was actually unnerving there was a lot of moaning and heavy breathing

Any time Macavity teleported by saying “Meow” I burst out laughing

What kind of cat was Victoria supposed to be? Because I always imagined her as a Persian kitten but she’s kind of a tabby in this version (but not consistently, her markings seem to fade or get bolder randomly)

Speaking of which, so many of the cats looked the same and were kind of boring. Lots of tabbies with short fur.

Misto’s wand is a pencil

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed. You should absolutely go see this film just for the experience of it. I will absolutely be adding this to my yearly Halloween-movie line up.

#cats the movie #cats movie #munkustrap #mr mistoffelees #mister mistoffelees #cats victoria #rum tum tugger

41 notes · View notes

comicgeekscomicgeek · 4 years ago

Text

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 61: Final Exam Part 3: Short Answer

Presenting the next chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia!

All chapters can be found here

Through her connection to Frog-Shadow, Asuka felt the world spin. Whatever it was, it wasn’t affecting her directly, but it was affecting Frog-Shadow and Haimawari. It couldn’t be the winged Villain—his Quirk was obviously some kind of wind manipulation—which meant there had to be another Villain somewhere that they weren’t seeing.

Asuka dove for cover, drawing Frog-Shadow back into her body. Haimawari veered towards the wall, swerving wildly. But rather than try to break, he jetted forward, putting up his hands at the last moment so that he traveled up the wall. He pushed himself off it with another pulse of his power, executing a flip in the air, before making a three point landing. He shot a fist into the air.

“Wooo! Did you see that?! I did it!”

“Pretty fancy, Hero,” the winged man sneered. “But it’s going to take more than that to take down the Raptor!” His wings spread out behind him, then flicked forward again. The resulting blast of air should have knocked Haimawari of his feet, but despite being buffeted by the winds and flailing against them, he wasn’t moved from his spot. Looking closely, she could see a faint glow surrounding his feet and Asuka realized he must have been using his Quirk to adhere to the street.

Ready, Frog-Shadow? she thought. If they were going to try again, there wasn’t a better time than while Haimawari still had the Villain—Raptor—distracted.

Ready! I don’t know what he did last time, but this time, I’m going to kick his ass! Just you wait and see!

Asuka rolled her eyes for a moment. Ever since she’d almost lost her during the Internship, she’d been trying not to be as annoyed by Frog-Shadow’s antics and bravado. And she’d been letting Frog-Shadow out more often under casual circumstances, incorporating her into what was going on. It had felt… right. Frog-Shadow was a part of her, but was also her own self. And in trying to suppress that, to make Frog-Shadow conform to what she considered to be proper behavior standards, had she not been suppressing part of herself? And more trust in her familiar had resulted in better coordination during training. It was a benefit to them both, especially since Frog-Shadow actually acted up less when she felt she had more of an outlet and voice.

Then go! she commanded.

Frog-Shadow flew from her body towards Raptor, but the moment she got close, the disorienting feeling of dizziness returned, the world spinning as though someone was turning it around and around in every direction. Asuka fell to her knees, while Frog-Shadow flitted about in the sky going every which way. She couldn’t see clearly with the world spinning, but it looked like Haimawari was dodging this way and that, occasionally firing a burst of power at Raptor.

This time, the dizziness was overwhelming; she was now clearly a direct target of it, making her feel as though she was going to throw up her breakfast. Even closing her eyes offered only limited relief. Every time she tried to rise, she found she couldn’t. The mere thought of moving made her ill.

Hang on! came Frog-Shadow’s thoughts. Her thoughts were shaky too; being hit with whatever was causing the dizziness directly and feeling it through Frog-Shadow was possibly making it worse than it could have been. I’m coming! I see him!

Frog-Shadow zipped unsteadily through the air back to her, briefly entering her body, before shooting out the other side of her again. Take that, you big meanie!

A mighty thwack filled the air, the sound of Frog-Shadow smacking into something, followed by the sound of someone hitting the ground. The nausea immediately stopped, her head and stomach clearing quickly. When she was able to open her eyes, she saw a hideous figure trying to get to its feet, a humanoid cockroach. She very nearly let out a cry of alarm, but kept her beak clamped shut. Such a reaction was unbecoming of a Hero and considering her own avian appearance, hardly appropriate as a person either.

Frog-Shadow, meanwhile, was still raining punches down on the bug-man, eliciting a groan. “Call it off! Call it off! She’s crazy!” the bug-man cried out, multiple arms waving in the air in a show of surrender. But Frog-Shadow pressed her attack and decked the man, who collapsed in a heap on the sidewalk.

It was only now, when she had a moment to think, that Asuka realized she’d lost track of Raptor and Haimawari. And she had no idea what had become of Sero and Ojiro either…

***

Takiyo’s head was killing him, his ears still ringing, so he was fairly certain that he could not possibly have heard Shota Shinso say what he thought he’d heard. Then again, the short boy was rather obsessive in his fanboy tendencies. If anyone could recognize whoever the school had gotten to fight them for their exam, it would be him.

He knew he should not have been so embarrassed. The fact was, their assailant could have just as easily shot any of them. True, Iida’s armor might have protected her, but the rest of them had no such protection. But being shot and having to be rescued like some civilian ate away at him all the same. How was he ever going to make a name for himself if he could be taken down so easily?

“You don’t know shit, kid!” the woman in the catsuit shouted, waving her rifle about as she tried to refute Shinso’s claims. “Shut up!”

Somehow, having a gun pointed at him did not deter Shinso from talking. Takiyo suspected that, were the boy somehow trapped in a soundless void, he would find a way to continue to talk.

“I do too! You’re the Shadow Thief! Mom and Dad fought you!”

The woman looked so startled she nearly dropped her gun. “Shit! I knew that purple hair looked familiar!” She recovered her grip on her weapon quickly, but before she could fire a shot, Koda threw seeds which quickly grew into vines. As the vines ensnared her, she and her weapon vanished, melting back into the shadows from whence she came.

The Shadow Thief reappeared immediately, behind Shinso. She struck him with the butt of her rifle, knocking him to the ground. Before Koda could react, the Shadow Thief fired a shot directly into her center mass, knocking her down. She spun to fire again and Takiyo let out a cry of alarm. But when he did, he unleashed a blinding flash of light.

“Argh!” the Shadow Thief cried out, this time dropping her weapon, which fell to the ground with a great clatter. She stumbled backwards, one hand covering her eyes. “Dammit…”

Quickly, he fired a laser beam of light at her weapon, the heat slicing it in half cleanly. He took some smug satisfaction in that. At least he wasn’t so hurt that he couldn’t still aim. He started charging up another shot in one hand, while projecting blinding beam from the other. This woman had appeared from the shadows and had taken him out first. It stood to reason that dark things like her feared his light.

“The next shot is for you, witch. Stand down.”

“Can’t… do that,” she said, between gritted teeth. She kept slowly trying to edge backwards, out of the range of his light. No doubt looking for more shadows to escape to. “I’ve got too much at stake... to let some pissant lightbulb like you stop me…” Her hands strayed to her belt and she removed something he couldn’t see from a pouch there. She let whatever it was drop and dark, obscuring smoke began to rise, hiding her from him and obscuring even his bright beam.

A scream from behind him, acting as a wedge of force, pushed the smoke aside. But when it did, the Shadow Thief was gone. Takiyo released the energy he was building up and turned, seeing that Shinso and Koda were recovering from her assault. Shinso was rubbing the back of his head and Koda had one arm draped protectively over her chest. She’d taken one of those shots full center of mass. His head ached enough from merely being clipped by one. How much worse were her injuries?

“Mademoiselle Koda, are you all right?” he asked. If that Villain had hurt her…

She held up her free hand. “Sore, but I shall live. Thank providence for my thick hide.”

“I’m fine too,” Shinso said, though he hadn’t asked. He touched the back of his head gingerly. “Oooh, that’s gonna be a lump.”

Takiyo’s mind was still reeling. Had they gotten actual Villains for their exam? Surely not even Aizawa would unleash something that dangerous upon them. It had to be a joke. A trick! Shinso had to be mistaken! And yet, Takiyo realized there was no possible way that Shinso would be mistaken about the identity of a Villain. But then, what did that mean? If there were real Villains, their teachers would be riding to their rescue. And she was only firing nonlethal ammunition…

“What… what was that?” he demanded. “What was she talking about? ‘Too much at stake’?” He waved his arms in a gesture of confusion.

“Beats me,” Shinso said.

Iida’s voice crackled through their head sets. “No sign of the Villain… Izumi says that Toshi wants us to pull back and regroup as soon as we are able. Check for remaining civilians, I will maintain a lookout. Then we can go.”

Takiyo no longer felt quite so confident in this exam. If there were real Villains about, if this was something other than what it seemed… then what was going on?

***

“’Too Much at stake’,” All Might repeated, turning to look at Aizawa. “Just what did you tell them, Aizawa?”

“Only what was necessary to properly motivate them to give the students a real challenge,” Aizawa replied, not looking at All Might. His tone of voice seemed to imply that this should have been obvious. His eyes remained fixed to the various screens in front of them. “A rationale deception designed for the optimum effort from both sides.” He declined to elaborate further.

Koharu swallowed nervously. Was the Hero Course really this nuts and unregulated that one of the teacher’s had called in actual Villains to fight students during the exam? Why were the Villains going along with it? What was keeping them from just killing everybody? If she booked it out of the control room, maybe she could give Class 1-A some kind of warning?

Vice-Principal Midnight seemed to sense her discomfort. She gave Koharu a kind smile. “It’s all right,” she said. “Eraser personally vetted each and every Villain for this exam. They’re all model prisoners who would have been up for parole in a year or two anyway.”

Koharu’s antenna popped up and she tried to smooth them down. They always did that when she was nervous. “Is this normal?” She waved her hands in vague circles in the air, unable to properly articulate what “this” was.

That got a laugh out of the Vice-Principal for some reason. “Oh, honey, nothing with Eraser is ever normal. He likes to keep all of us on our toes.”

“If you can’t handle the unexpected,” Aizawa said, not bothering to turn to look again, “you’ve got no business being in this line of work.”

“Understood, sir,” Koharu said, unsure if he was talking to her or Midnight.

She returned her attention to the Vice-Principal. “Can I ask about who these Villains are then?”

Midnight smiled again. “Asking questions and gathering intelligence already,” she said. “Good job. Shinso already identified Shadow Thief, a very talented cat burglar and practitioner of corporate espionage. As her name implies, she can travel through any shadow to any other.”

She pointed to one of the other screens, where the giant woman was pulling herself out of the ground. The group that had been battling her had already moved on, clearing out what civilian-robots remained in their area, all the while keeping one eye behind them in case she came after them again.

“That’s Kamuy,” Midnight explained. “Guilty of political agitation, destruction of government property, and kidnapping a government official, some of which would have garnered her a slap on the wrist, if she hadn’t used her Quirk to do it. Still, it’s the last one that really hung over her. She’s Ainu and has fought rather violently against encroachments on her people’s culture. Her Quirk lets her absorb kinetic and other forms of energy and uses them to fuel her own strength. Sato there almost figured it out… it’s an active Quirk, not a passive one.”

Another screen showed the bird-headed girl and her frog… thing… restraining a small man who looked like a cockroach. There was no special shared love among insect Quirks, but it did look like the frog-thing had smacked him around more than was probably strictly necessary.

“Nauseous,” Midnight said. “Guilty of multiple counts of theft and disruption of public events, whose Quirk allows him to disrupt the workings of people’s inner ear. And apparently that of Quirks that act like people too. Not a terrible guy, all things considered. When a robbery he was involved in went south, he stayed with the injured guard rather than make off with the money like his friends.”

Koharu winced at the frog thing gave Nauseous one last smack.

“Hmmm,” Midnight said. “Looks like he’s out of the fight. That’s one for our kids, anyway.”

Another screen showed the metal sumo wrestler that Midoriya had uppercutted into the stratosphere climbing out of the rubble of a building. It had come down when he’d crashed into it. “Remind me to deduct points from Midoriya for that,” Aizawa said. “That kind of carless destruction could cost lives.”

“I’ll work with him on that,” All Might said sheepishly. “I may have regaled him with a few too many stories of one final Smash…”

“Of course you did.”

“Jawbreaker,” Midnight went on. “Ridiculed for his appearance, he tried to live an honest life, despite the temptations of crime. He ultimately turned to crime and theft in order to pay for his father’s medical bills. Anything he eats, he can take on the properties of. The kids haven’t seen half of what he can do yet.”

Koharu’s eyes widened. “You’re really letting somebody like that fight them? He looks like he could give Deku a rough fight!”

“It’s fine,” Midnight assured her again. “Like I said, model prisoner. And besides, we made it very clear what happens if they step outside the boundaries we set for them.”

And then there was the winged man, who was leading Haimawari on a chase across the skyline. Haimawari was doing his best to dodge the wind attacks and return fire, while the winged man kept trying to blow him over unsuccessfully.

“And lastly,” Midnight finished, “Raptor. The son of Chinese immigrants, who grew up in the Triads. It’s a little romantic really, but he turned state’s evidence against them when he fell in love and started a family. It got him a reduced sentence and now he’s up for parole. His wings let him manipulate wind, not to the extent of, say, Gale Force, though his overall destructive output might be higher.”

A rare flying Villain. Koharu gulped. As a flying Hero, it would someday be up to people like her to fight people like him. A sobering thought.

“So, Kocho,” Aizawa said, still not taking his eyes off the screens. His voice was deadly serious. “What would you do if you had to fight these Villains?”

No one told her this would be a test!

***

“Look out!” Takuma shouted, jumping into the air while firing a strand of Acid Tape. He swung and quickly grabbed a pair of child-sized robots with his free arm, getting them out of the way just in time to avoid being squished by falling rubble. That had been entirely too close!

“You two okay?” he asked the robots when he set down again. Both nodded and gave him a thumb’s up, the lights on their chests turning green to indicate a successful rescue. “Good. Do you know where you parents are?”

The robots didn’t respond, but instead took off towards a taller, vaguely woman-shaped robot, who briefly embraced them before running off. “Artificial intelligence is getting way too real,” he said aloud.

He popped the faceplate on his helmet, wiping some of the sweat away from his brow. He and Kimmie had done a good job getting people away from the fight and the winged guy, but that was getting harder and harder now that Haimawari was chasing after him. He spotted the winged guy jetting from one spot to the next, always pushing off something at one point or another in his flight. Maybe he couldn’t actually fly? He looked heavy. If his Quirk was really the air thing, maybe the wings were just glide and steer?

And if that was the case, what did he do with that information?

He watched, just for a minute, as Haimawari dodged out of the way of a blast of air, sliding up the side of the building backwards, then bringing up a hand to pepper the Villain with pulsing energy bolts. It didn’t look like they were doing much damage, but they were definitely knocking the guy around a good bit. He’d give Haimawari credit, he had great control of his Quirk.

“That’s the last of the civilians,” Kimiko said, running up him. “Everyone’s evacuated.” She looked up at the on-going fight between Haimwari and the Villain. “Should we do something?”

Takuma winced as Haimawari narrowly dodged a blast of wind that blew out the remaining windows of the building. It shattered the remaining windows in the tall building, showering everything below with glass. Haimawari blasted a few shards away from himself, but was started to slow down in dodging the wind bursts.

He nodded. “Yeah. Climb on my back. Can you make us invisible again?”

Takuma couldn’t see her eyes or her expression, but the rest of Kimiko’s body language just radiated a “yeah, duh” response of such intensity he was surprised he wasn’t on fire from it. Rather than continue with his commentary, he snapped his visor back into place and bent down and allowed Kimiko to climb on his back, wrapping her legs around his chest and her arms around his neck. She was pressed up against him tightly enough that he was glad he was gay or he’d probably have a lot of trouble thinking straight.

‘Straight.’ Even in the middle of an exam, he was funny. But why was he always at his funniest in his own head?

“Okay!” Kimiko announced. “Time to disappear! Let’s go kick that guy’s ass!” There was no feeling as she used her Quirk, making both her costume and him invisible, only the colors of the world losing some of their edge, everything going a little bit gray. It was always weird and he swore his peripheral vision was a bit wider with his skull being invisible. And that wasn’t even getting into how he shouldn’t have been able to see if his eyes were invisible.

Kimiko’s Quirk did not bear deep thinking if you wanted to keep your sanity. Was this how she saw everything, all the time?

It also required absolute concentration to use in teamwork. Without his ability to see his body or even his Tape when he fired it (as it was still a part of him until he released it), he had to be absolutely certain of any move he made while invisible. Thank goodness they’d put in plenty of practice.

Takuma fired off a strip of Tape at the side of the building, making it good and sticky, tested that it was secure, then launched himself and Kimiko into the air, reeling himself up to the side of the building. Quickly, he fired another strip of Tape, pulling both of them up to where Haimawari was struggling to maintain his grip on the building against the winged Villain’s winds. The winged-Villain had amped up the pressure and intensity of his attacks, leaving their classmate no opportunity to fight back.

Even not being directed at them, he could feel the air currents. Kimiko let out a shriek as they were nearly dislodged. Takuma quickly secured them with another strand.

“This was a bad idea,” Kimiko whispered in his ear. He wasn’t sure he disagreed. Raptor was moving fast, bouncing from perch to perch, never letting up the pressure on his wind attacks.

“You’re persistent, kid, I’ll give you that much,” Raptor growled, wings flapping hard as he bounced off the side of a building, readying another volley of wind. “But you’re just out of your depth.”

Haimawari withstood the barrage again, his hands and feet glowing as he poured his Quirk into adhering to the building. But he was starting to slip, Takuma could see that much. It was now or never if they were going to do something.

“Hang on, Kimmie,” he whispered. He fired off a strip of Tape again, and swung himself upwards. As he soared up through the air, he fired off another Tape strip, giving his wrist a hard flick. With perfect timing, the Tape itself wrapped around Raptor’s legs, pinning them together.

“What the?!” Raptor cried out. He was in motion, gliding through the air before starting his next attack, leaving him no opportunity to try and dislodge the Tape.

Takuma grunted and pulled with all his might. He was definitely going to be feeling the stain tomorrow, but taken by surprise, Raptor slammed into the building, hard. But the Villain pushed off with a grunt, flapping his wings hard and propelling himself with blasts of wind. Takuma was forced to cut the strip of Tape loose, lest his arm be pulled out of the socket. When the strip broke away, it became visible. Raptor tore it loose, flapping his wings hard and reversing direction in mid-air.

His wings flared again as he prepared to fire another blast of air. But their attack had given Haimawari the precious seconds he needed to actually return fire. He sped up the side of the building, then turned and snapped up, his feet still clinging to the building but bother his hands now in firing position. “SLIIIIIIDE-BUSTER!” Haimawari unleashed a powerful looking, pulsating blue-white beam of energy, looking stronger and bigger than the small bolts he usually fired. The beam struck Raptor dead on, blasting him into the ground below. He made a rather satisfying thud when he hit.

Kimiko let the two of them fade back into visibility. Takuma looked up and gave Haimawari a wave. “Niiiice, dude!”

Haimawari gave them a little wave in return. “Figured that had to be you two. Thanks. Wasn’t sure what I was going to do there.”

“Hey, if you two are done congratulating each other,” Kimiko interrupted, “the bad guy’s getting away!”

Takuma looked down and saw she was right. The Villain was back on his feet but running away, not taking to the skies. He saw him slip between an alleyway and then lost track of him.

“Ugh, great,” Takuma said. He wondered if that was going to cost them points. Beating the Villains was only the number three priority, but… “Should we go after him…?”

“Are you three all right?” Tokoyami’s voice over the comms cut off that line of thinking. “I’ve,” she stopped suddenly, as though she was arguing with someone he couldn’t hear. Probably Frog-Shadow. It was a shame Tokoyami didn’t have any interest in fame. A straight man who could supply their own co-host to argue with? That was comedy gold there. “Pardon, we’ve captured one of the Villains and Gravi-Might wishes for us to regroup.”

Well, that answered that at least.

***

It didn’t take long for everyone to make it back to the civilian defense shelter and gather in front, and Toshi was glad to see that everyone was still standing. Some looked a little worse for wear than others though. Both Sora and Tensei had dents in their armor; there was a massive dent in Tensei’s chestplate that was shaped like a fist and Sora’s armor looked like someone had been shooting at her (He had to try really hard to separate the boyfriend concern from teammate concern there.). Aoyama and Shota were both nursing head wound and several others like Shoji and Koda looked more than a little beat up.

Ojiro quickly went to work checking over the wounded. They were all versed in basic field first aid now, but with the additional training she was receiving from Aunt Eri and her Quirk, she made the most sense as the team medic. She quickly pronounced that there were no broken bones or internal damage, though she loudly professed that they were all probably going to be sore tomorrow.

Toshi was sympathetic to that. Smacking into the building, even in a state of high gravity, had hurt like hell. He was lucky the rest of his team had been so quick to act. It had kept them from being injure and left the three of them—Izumi, Mineta, and Kaminari—along with Sato and Ojiro, as the only people who weren’t hurt or put through the ringer.

“Toshi!’ Shota piped up. “Toshi! Toshi! It was Shadow-Thief! We were fighting a real Villain! It was the Shadow Thief!”

“That’s great, Shota,” Toshi said, his attention on the broader group. “Okay, so we’ve all had some contact with the Villains and it looks like we’ve beaten them back. And Asuka’s got us a prisoner.”

He looked back at the unconscious form of the cockroach-like man Asuka had brought back with her, bound with what looked like a street lamp wrapped around him, courtesy of Frog-Shadow. She’d also dumped a garbage can on his head, explaining that the Villain had some kind of Quirk that could cause extreme dizziness. She’d guessed it was based on sight, judging by how she and Haimawari had been affected. Izumi was already working on forming a cube of ice around him, a little miniature prison cell. Maybe if he woke up they could interrogate him for more information. He could play good cop and he was pretty sure Katsumi would jump at the chance to play bad cop.

“And that’s Nauseous!” Shota said, pointing excitedly. “Wow!”

…Wait. Toshi stopped mid-thought to stare at Shota, mouth agape.

“Loud Kid,” Katsumi snapped, saying what they were all thinking, “why the hell do you know who these guys are?”

“They’re real Villains!” Shota explained again. “I mean, I thought both of them were supposed to be in jail, but they’re still real Villains!”

At this pronouncement, chaos broke out among the rest of his classmates, except for Koda, Sora, and Aoyama, everyone talking at once and over each other.

“The fuck?!”

“I am certain our teachers would not willingly subject us to danger like that without failsafes…”

“We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die! Villains have overrun UA! I’m too hot to die! There’s so many people I never hit on!”

“You! Have! A! Boyfriend! I’m the one who’s going to die alone!”

“I beat a real Villain! GO ME!”

“Yes, you did. You can stop bragging now.”

“I helped take down a real Villain and I couldn’t get it on video?! This is the worst thing that ever happened in the history of ever!

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HELPED?! WHAT AM I, CHOPPED LIVER?!”

“Really, this is what you two are arguing about now?”

“This is truly improbable, and yet Shinso has a statistical record that makes his identifications very likely…”

“Guys, think for a second. It can’t possibly be what it looks like.”

“Hey, guys, ah, maybe we should listen to Midoriya…?”

Haimawari’s words, at least, seemed to calm the class down for the moment. Everyone quieted down and gave Toshi their attention again. He once again realized how much everyone looked to him in the figurative sense as well. It was a sobering burden. And one that was starting to remind him of something Dad had said once, about how he only tried to do so much (which was, admittedly, a lot), because he didn’t want people relying on him like they had on Grandpa Might. It was why he was the Symbol of Hope, not Peace.

He was really going to have to do something about that.

“Okay,” he said. They could dissect the implications later, but he trusted in their teachers not to put them in danger. …Okay, he trusted Aizawa not to put them in too much danger. “So all that really means is that we’re fighting people who are experienced fighting Heroes. But they’re probably holding back some. We don’t know if they were briefed about us or our Quirks, but I’m betting we have the best source on the planet for figuring out what they’ve got.”

Toshi pointed at Shota. “So we’re going to fill Loud Kid in on what we’ve got and who we fought. Shota, it’s time to put your knowledge to the test.”

His eyes scanned the cityscape behind the others. “Because make no mistake… this isn’t over. First round went to us. But there’s at least four Villains still out there. They know we’re here, they know where we are. And since this is where their target is…

“They’re coming for us.”

#my hero academia #their hero academia #fan fiction #fan fic #my writing #asuka tokoyami #takiyo aoyama #takuma sero #toshi midoriya #Koharu Kocho

2 notes · View notes

chemaddictedghoul · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter one: 50 years? More like 210

WORD COUNT: 2313 Summary: Anne takes her last steps in vault 111, and her first steps into her new life. To Concord we go...

A/N: Am I writing a fic all about my FO4 playthrough? And breaking canon a bunch? yep. If you’re not into slightly shitty writing or a very shippy fic, then I’m sorry. If you follow my main, then the characters will be a bit more familiar. Anyways. yeah! Chapter one!

i need a tag for this story sksks

By the time Anne had grabbed up the pipboy and was standing before the vault door, watching it unscrew, she had thrown up several times. The first was when she got out of the cryo-pod. She had just seen her husband murdered, after all. Of course her guts would fail. The second time was when she saw the first giant cockroach. It was just so... disgusting. The sound it made, the way she had to crush it with her hand... It made her retch. The third time was when she saw all the skeletons. Each and every one of them made her gag, but the doctor with the pipboy was what did it. It was probably a mix of the cockroach she had to kill, and the way her hand brushed the bones before she got the pipboy itself. She blew off the dust of the screen, coughing as she accidentially inhaled some. That would probably come back to bite her in the ass, but she didn't know. It took just a couple seconds for the pipboy to boot up, and just a couple more for her to insert the plug into the vault door controls to start opening it. Anne had pressed the button, and ran over to the platform. And that is how she ended up there, and empty stomach and a gun in hand. She watched the large door unscrew with a loud screech, the rusty metals opening up. How... How long had she been in there? It had to be years... Her mind flashed back to the man, and what looked like a robotic arm on him. Maybe she was just too middle class to have seen. But she saw the bombs. No life would exist for years. No way. So safe money was on at least five decades. Fifty years. That seemed logical, right? She didn't have time to keep questioning the time, because the vault door had opened and the elevator and came to a screaming halt at the bottom. Anne slowly crept forward, eyes widening at the elevator. She was going to get out. But she wasn't sure she was ready. What... What would the world be like? Would there be life? Would people have rebuilt? Or would there me nothing left? Would it be hopeless, some desolate wasteland with nothing left? Anne swallowed, and suddenly the gun weighed heavily in her hand. What if she couldn't take what she saw? But she quickly pushed away the thought. No, she had to push through. She had to rescue her baby. She had to rescue Shaun. And besides, she didn't have time to contemplate such drastic measures; she had arrived at the elevator. She took a deep breath and stepped forward. The doors closed behind her, and the elevator started going up. Going up to the new world. To her new life. The elevator couldn't have gone any slower. It just crawled up, groaning at the lack of care and the sudden use. But it did it's job, and made it up. Anne gave a bitter laugh as it almost reached the top. What if it had collapsed? Wouldn't that be some climactic end to her journey? It didn't fall, and soon the vault door began to open. The sunlight instantly filtered through, nearly blinding her. She squinted, holding her hand over her eyes as the doors kept opening. The sun was directly overhead, lighting up the moving platform. Then, it finally stopped, leaving her to take in the view. Everything was dead. The trees hardly had any leaves on it, and the grass was all yellow. Hardly anything had grown around the vault. Anne gasped, slowly falling to her knees. Right in front of her was her old neighborhood, standing mostly unruined. She choked back a sob, forcing herself up. She couldn't take time to pity herself. Rather than walking down the path she had traveled so many years before, Anne slid directly down. She knew those people would've died, and she couldn't bear the thought to see them. She moved the gun to her other hand, shaking out her wrist as she began to walk. Crossing that old bridge. Walking the dusty path. The neighboorhood loomed before her, the simple blue colors of the building having faded over time. She took each step slowly, taking in the views. The air was dusty, choking her out as she walked. She had to fight for each breath, but she slowly got used to it. By the time she reached her old house, her lungs were used to the unclean air. Which was good for her. Standing--or rather, floating-- before her was Codsworth, her loyal Mister Handy robot. He focused his eyes on her, in his own way of showing shock. "As I live and breathe... It's you..! It's really you!" Codsworth turned his body around, floating towards her. Anne laughed softly. Even if he didn't intend to, Codsworth filled her with some slight happiness. He was a welcome sight, for sure. "Yeah... It's me." Anne set down the gun, and opened up her arms. Less like asking for a hug, and more like showcasing her body. Codsworth seemed as happy as a robot could. "You're still here..." And then it hit her. "Then... Then that means other people could be alive, too!" "Well of course I'm still here! Surely you don't think a little radiation could deter the pride of General Atomics Internation?" Had he been a human, or even an animal, he would be puffing out his chest in pride. It made Anne smile again. "But you seem the worse for wear. Best not let the hubby see you in that state. Where is sir, by the way?" Anne's smile faded away. He was... Gone. He was shot and killed by a man with a scar. Anne clenched her fist for just a second, blinking rapidly. "They... Came into the vault. M-Maybe you saw them? They had guns... And strange outfits?" "Ah, no. Only Ms. Rosa's boy, running around in his Halloween costume, more than a week early. I swear, the nerve of that woman leaving her brat unsupervised..." Codsworth hummed, his tone indignant. "Ah, not like you, mum. You're the perfect mother. And sir is.... Oh, where is sir, by the by?" Anne bit back a sob, shaking her head and blinking again. "He's... He's in a better place." "Mum, these things you're saying, these... these terrible things... I... I believe you need a distraction. Yes! A distraction, to calm this dire mood. It's been ages since we've had a proper family activity. Checkers. Or perhaps charades. Shaun does so love that game. IS the lad... With you?" Codsworth leaned closer, like a curious kid. The memory flashed, just as vividly as when it happened. "It doesn't make sense... I just don't get it... There's no reason somebody would take my baby..." Anne held her head in her hands, trying and failing to block it all out. And to think, she thought she lost everything when the bombs dropped. How wrong could she be? "It's worse than I thought. Hmm hmm. You're suffering from... hunger induced paranoia! Not eating properly for 200 hundred years will do that, I'm afriad." Anne's legs gave out. She fell down to the ground, her arms the only thing keeping her from faceplanting. He... He couldn't be serious, could he? "200 years? W-What? Are you...?" "A bit over 210 actually, mum. Give or take a little for the Earth's rotation and some minor dings to the ole' chronometer." Codsworth lowered himself, letting Anne use him to get herself back up again. Instinctivly, she brushed the dirt off of herself. She then looked back at him. "That means you're two centuries late for dinner! Hah! Perhaps I can whip you up a snack? You must be famished," he continued. Even if Codsworth hadn't been acting strange, Anne could definately not stomach anything right now. Or ever. "Codsworth, you're acting a bit strange... Are you alright?" She asked. The fact that should could somehow managed to get some coherent thought out surprised her. Guess she wasn't as bad as she had thought. "I... I... Oh, mmum, it's been just horrible! Two centuries with no one to talk to, no one to serve. I spent the first ten years trying to keep the floors waxed, but nothing gets nuclear fallout from vinyl wood. Nothing!" He leaned closer to her. "And don't get me started on the futility of dusting a collapsed house. And the car! The car! How do you polish rust?!" "What do you know, Codsworth," Anne asked. Maybe just talking to him like he wasn't having the robot equivilant of a mental breakdown would help him out. Codsworth lowered his eyes. "I'm afraid I don't know anything, mum. The bombs came, and all of you left in such a hurry. I thought for certain you and your family were... dead. I did find this holotape. I believe sir was going to present it to you. As a surprise. But then, well... Everything 'happened'." He extended a claw hand, giving her the holotape. Written on it, in Nate's unmistakable handwriting, was "Hi, honey!" Anne, inserted it into the pipboy, but she didn't play it. Not right now. Not yet. "Thank you, Codsworth. It's something." "Well, enough feeling sorry for myself!" And just like that, his entire mood changed. Anne wished she could do that. It would make her life so much easier. "Well, shall we search the neighborhood ourselves? Maybe sir and young Shaun will turn up!" Anne knew that they wouldn't turn up. She saw Nate killed and Shaun kidnapped. But being with Codsworth would be welcome. It would help her. "Alright, Codsworth. Lead the way." Anne gave him a smile, and touched the cool steel of his body. He turned around, keeping one of his eyes on her as he started off. "Tally-ho!" Codsworth took the lead, taking her over to one of the uncollapsed houses. He quickly located some giant bug, and burned it alive. Anne snuck past him, and one of those giant cockroaches came running at her. She shot it, shuddering. Codsworth had went down the hallway and had burned up several more bugs. "Just some bugs here... Oh wait, my sensors are detecting movement! Follow me!" He rushed out of the house, towards another house full of bugs. Anne let him take the lead on this one, hanging back outside. Those bugs would be the death of her... But then again, 200 hundred years could do some mutation... 200 hundred years. Her estimate of 50 seemed somewhat off. Codsworth came out much slower, eyes drooping. "Sir and young Shaun are really gone, are they..?" "No. Shaun is out there. He's alive. My baby has to be alive." Anne stepped forward, closer to him. Codsworth straighted up his eyes. "Then might I suggest you head down to Concord? There are some people there, and they only managed to hit my with a few rocks... Perhaps they could help you?" He suggested. If a robot could look hopeful, he was a perfect example. Anne smiled softly. "Thank you, Codsworth... I'm glad you're okay." "Of course I am! Good luck, Miss Anne! I shall hold down the fort while you search for young Shaun!" And Codsworth floated past her with a new energy. He had a purpose now. Anne watched him going, looking down at the gun in her hand. Who knew working for somebody could be your purpose in life? But then again, that is how he was programmed. Anne pushed the thought away, looking towards the bridge out of the neighborhood. She then started walking, crossing the rickety bridge slowly. There was a dead man laying on the ground, a gun a few feet away from him. Anne knelt down beside him, touching his coat. There was hardly any blood, and it felt much sturdier than her vault jumpsuit. She peeled it off the man, putting it on herself. It fit pretty well. Yeah, she was wearing a dead man's clothes, but it could be worse. She rifled through the pockets, feeling quite a bit of ammo in there. She then walked over and picked up the gun. It looked like some type of rifle, but she wasn't sure. Being married to a soldier had it's perks. As a result, Nate constantly taught her little things. One of which was how to use many guns. Anne popped out the mostly empty magazine, discarding it. She felt the belt around it, and slung it around her body with a smile. A real wasteland hero in the making. She then continued walking. A little ways down the road was an old gas station, a Red Rocket. She had to get much closer to it, however, to notice the dog. He ran up to her, sniffing her with that usual dog-like excitement. Anne looked at him, and knelt down. "Hey there, boy... How's it going?" The dog rested his muzzle in her paw, letting her tilt his head up. He then started panting, like he was smiling. Anne laughed. "Well I guess you're coming with me. Come on, buddy." She stood up, groaning quietly. She would have to do a lot of working out, now. At least she would get her dream body. Anne started walking away, and the dog trailed behind her. A little ways down the road, there were a couple huge mosquitos buzzing around. They hadn't noticed Anne or the dog yet, so just a couple shots from her new rifle took care of them. This was her new life now. Anne looked at the city in front of her, sighing softly. She reached down to give the dog a scratch. They were going to find Shaun. They were going to avenge Nate. To Concord they go.

#fallout #fo4 #fo4 fanfiction #fanfiction #codsworth #dogmeat #original character #chemmy does writing

7 notes · View notes

zoom-2theforgottenspeedster · 6 years ago

Text

Zoom-2 Chapter Two

Hello, we’re back with another chapter of Zoom-2. YAY!! I’m posting this at like 12:20 in the morning so SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK moment and I seriously just had to deal with killing a cockroach just before posting, so yay!! Hope you enjoy, please share, and see you in the next chapter!

Chapter Two- Answers

Word count- 1834

Warning(s)- Death

In a white room of Central City hospital, Keys sat in the chair next to her mother's hospital bed. Her injuries weren't too severe, however, one to the paramedics said she may have a small concussion from when her desk fell on her. The silent of the room weighted too much on Keys and the steady beeping of the heart monitor, that was connected to her mother as a precaution, hadn't steadied the frantic beating of her heart. As a form on distraction, she turned on the small T.V. using the remote on the table; the video displayed was clips of the raging flames consuming S. T. A. R Labs and fire department attempts to kill the fire along with paramedics treating the injured. A Newscaster came on screen.

"Central City hospital was soon flooded with injured from the S. T. A. R Labs' fire. There were no critical injuries, but many got burns that would need medical attention. Some said they were grabbed by a blue blur and then found themselves outside in an instant as they tried to escape. They're calling it the Sapphire streak. Thanks to the Sapphire streak many lives were saved," A picture in the top right corner showed a blue streak. Keys face drained with color as inched to the edge of her seat. The new report continued, "On a note from the invention, police have questioned the scientists on what may have caused the fire, or to why the anti-fire protocol had not been working. Some of their working theories are a meta started the fire to steal new developing tech from the lab, or S. T. A. R Labs may be a target by a new meta villain that wants to control the city and attacked the lab as a show of power. A common thread between any theories the police have thought of included metahumans. Some officers believed the Sapphire streak they saw early was the cause of the S. T. A. R Labs' fire. Other called the Sapphire streak a hero."

The T.V. clicked off leaving the room silent again. Keys turned around. Sitting up in her bed Keys' mother had the remote in her hand. "You shouldn't be watching that."

Keys leaped out of her seat. She should have been glad her mother was safe, but somehow angry clouded her judgment. She needed answers and she was going to get them. "And why not?" She had enough of being told what she shouldn't do. "Because it shows exactly what I'm not supposed to do. To show my powers. Show my speed!"

"I told you to hide your speed for your own good to keep you safe-"

"You called me! I'm 27 years old! I deserve some answers. Starting with why I have to hide who I am." Keys sped to the foot of her bed. Her breathing became heavy and her heartbeat raced.

"Keys H.Z. Copper!" Reinette took a deep breath in, before facing her daughter. "I called you so you wouldn't come. I knew that if you saw S. T. A. R Labs on fire you'd come racing down, as you did, and try to save me and anyone else who needed it." She could not stand to look at her amber eyes any long as they reminded her of ones she once knew long ago, so she tore her eye to the window and out to the city. "Your father would have just let them burn."

"My father?" Keys released the breath she didn't know she held. Her mother continued.

"Yes, your father. He is the reason you have your speed. The reason I wanted to take it away. Why I forced you to hide it." Her eyes held shame and regret, but they also held a glimmer of happiness. "I was young when I met him. It was in the same evergreen woods you love to run through."

Keys tensed up, she thought she didn't know about her daily runs through them., and her face paled a bit.

All her mother did was let out a small laugh, "Of course I knew about your little run, besides the point. I was hiking through them to meet some of my friends on the beaches on the other side. That's when I saw him. More like I saw a blur of blue rush pass me, then I heard a thump. I rushed over to see what happened when a see a man laying down, blood on the side of his head, in front of a tree. I panicked thinking he was dead, but then he moved his hand to his head and groaned in pain. I dropped down next to him to check on him and I recognized him as Hunter Zolomon, a dangerous serial killer. As a doctor in training, I couldn't just leave him there so I took him back to my place, and patched him up. When he woke he put his hand around my neck and almost choked me to death. If he left his hand there a second longer I would have blacked out, but he let go and sped out. After that, he stalked me for a week before I went up and talked to him. I asked why he was stalking me and he said he was working up to a way of asking me why I saved him. I told him as a doctor it was my job to help others and he sped off again. He came and visited me a few times and then we fell in love. It was tough at time because of his speed. It corrupted him. One night we got into a big argument and some hurtful things were said. After that, I didn't see him again, unless it was on the news and that's also when I found out I was pregnant with you."

She finally faced Keys with tears in her eyes and a soft small on her face. "I didn't want to tell you out of fear you may end up like your father. I didn't want your speed take you away from me as it did him." Tears filled in Keys' eyes as she processed the story she was told and she fell back into the chair she sat in earlier. Reinette laid back down with a scene of peace as if a weight was lifted from her shoulders.

Silents fell back upon the small hospital room with the exception of the beeps from the heart monitor. Keys didn't know how much time had passed from finally getting the answers she needed. Minutes or hours could have gone by and Keys wouldn't know. Then the beeping on the heart monitor started to beep like crazy. She was up and back at her mother's side in a blink of an eye.

"Mom! Mom!" She sped outside the room yelling before she sped back in, " Doctor! Nurse! Someone help!"

A team of nurses and doctors flooded the room. "Ma'am we are going to need you to leave the room-"

"No please she's my mother. Mom!," Keys was pushed out so they could work by one of the nurses.

An hour went by before they let Keys see her mother. According to her doctor, she suffered some internal bleeding and it was life-threatening. Her mother was wake but looked so pale and week. It killed Keys a bit inside to see a strong woman look defeated.

"Keys come here." Her voice sounded hoarse. Keys listened. Reinette took her hands into her own. "There was a reason I trained you, even though I want you to hide your speed-" She was interrupted by a fit of coughs. "I wanted you to be fast enough to go back in time, so you can meet your father. Open a wormhole. Go back and don't come back here-"

"But mom-" "Let me finish." Keys nodded "You don't deserve to be here, and you're more than fast enough, so go. You're looking for Hunter Zolomon. In case you forget that's what the H.Z. in your name stands for, after your father. Keys Huntress Zolomon Copper. Now go. Run Keys run." With that Reinette took her last breath and closed her eyes.

Keys could feel her eyes string. Her heart beat as fast as she could run and that's what she did. She ran

Keys ran to the only place that could even have a flash of a chance to calm her. The evergreen forest. A streak of blue zipped in between the trees all the way to the water's edge. She stopped just before her ran-worn converse could touch the water and broke down. The water raised another foot with all the tears that Keys shed. The truth suffocated her more than she ever realized and with her mother's death, she just drowned. The weight became too much handle. Some had friends and family to help them go through a loss, but Keys had no one.

No that was not true. Her father. Hunter Zolomon. That's who she needed to find. All she needed to do was run and open a gateway to the past. If her mother believed she could do it than she could. She'd go back and meet her dad. She'd go find him.

Without any though Keys ran in a circle slowing building her speed. The sand was thrown around her as if a tornado was forming and a line in the sand started to form as well. In the center of it, a small blue portal built from Keys' running. It grew larger enough for her to jump through and with one leap she entered.

She focused on the name, her name, Hunter Zolomon. And as she ran she saw everything as she ran. Her past, present, and future. It didn't make any sense to her but she didn't care. She kept running. She saw to she thought was him. A man in a black suit with a trail of blue light racing somebody else in a red suit with a trail of red-yellow lighting. Key was going to keep on running pass that when she could describe as a dementor from Harry Potter flew at her. She jumped out of the wormhole and rolled on, as far ass she could tell, a neighborhood street. The dementor monster thing was gone, but she rolled into something else. Actually three somebodies. Keys couldn't focus hard enough to tell if they were friend or foe, so she tried to run off just to be followed. Another speedster? The other speedster had a lighting trail of red an' yellow, like the one she saw racing who she believes is her father. Taken back by this, Keys lost sight of the road in front of her and clashed. She laid on the ground her vision blur to the other speedster standing over her. Before she fell into an inky darkness one word left her lips.

"Hunter?"

#the flash #caitlin snow #caitlin snow x oc #cisco ramon #joe west #wally west #iris west #barry allen #oc #my ocs #hunter zolomon #zoom's daughter #zoom #Zoom-2 #i should sleep #i need sleep #sleep is for the weak

3 notes · View notes

jash62 · 6 years ago

Text

What the Hell Universe

Entry 1 Montague

What the actual fuck universe. What have I done in a past life to piss you off so!? What have I done to you to make my life the multi headed dick Hydra that is my current life!

Everything is a burnt husk or ruin. If it's not burnt it's mutated if not burnt and mutated. I mean cockroaches the size of Corgis, angry murder fly-bees that shoot it's larva young at you. I swear if there are mutated spiders the size of dobermans, I'm ending it right now. I will eat that bullet with ketchup(if I can find some) damn nature you scary with a irradiated vengeance.

Okay where to start. first I need something to help get my thoughts in order so diary, Journal, log thingy ,or Incase someone finds this on my corpse out in this hell scape. We're about to get real personal real quick. So I guess I'll start with my name.

My name is Montague Alister Hawk, and I'm a time traveler for the year 2077 pre war America.

How is time travel possible you ask hypothetical reader. Well apparently its one part: ignore your best friend's advice and instincts, one part: submit to the peer pressure from your wife and one part: smooth silver tongue Vault Tec rep, and Two part: the fucking Chinese or American government nuking the shit out of each other! Mix with Corporate America mindset and a dash of Vault Tec experimentation. Poor over the iced tears of the working class and bam you get one maybe two possibly three time travelers.

Gods please let my wife and child be safe. Also thanks for keeping my last bottle of whiskey together for the past 210 years.

Okay so here's the thing, my psychologist doc Anders, said that in times of great stress with nothing to do, is to write down my thoughts or this case type them. So here I am, drinking a the last (possibly unirradiated) bottle Jameson. In the burnt out ruins of my home, with the computer (I scavenged from the drug dealer down the street), and with the hopes my wife and son are alive in this hellscape that is the Boston wasteland as Codsworth dubs it.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact when I woke up this morning in the year of 2077 and now it's 2287. In fact we went into vault 111 around 1000 hrs on Oct 23 and I came out of said vault on Oct 23 1100 hrs. And what's worse is today is still a blur.

It started like any other day, I was shaving my beard off in my preparation for the speech I was suppose to give at the VA. I remember Cods giving me some coffee and the knock on the door from that Vault Tec basterd, my wife pleading with me to just deal with him. Because it was free.

Pffpht nothing is free, "Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost.” that is the Law of Equivalent Exchange and I have yet to find a way to circumvent this law, but enough philosophy.

The next thing I remember is hearing my NORAD waring blare on my computer, gathering Cassandra and Shaun. Then booking it towards the vault. the air was thick with fear. There was air raid sirens blaring and vertibirds mobilizing.

If I wasn't in such a panic I would have recognise the first warning something was off. It was the Vault Tec rep having been denied at the gate. The second warning was when we were granted access to the vault even though we finished the paperwork not 30 minutes before. Gods hindsight is 20/20 and a bitch.

I felt it before it went off somehow, all the thing Cassandra and I feared most. The reason I joined the rangers and went to war, was to help prevent what we saw. The reason Cassandra went to law school and put up with those stuff shirts that made up the law community, was to prevent what we saw. All the hardships, late nights, ptsd fueled nightmares, our hopes dreams, and all the hours put to fight the injustice we fought against. All of that time and effort, went up in the ash and dust fueled, mushroom shaped cloud.

I still see it when I close my eyes. Still hear the screams.

Anyway I instinctively grab Cassandra hold her against me as we ducked down against the blast wind as we were lowered into the vault. We hit the bottom and all I can think is how much time we wasted to prevent the unpreventable.

The next hour was a blur again and the next thing I can remember is Cassandra handing me Shaun so she could change into her vault suit. I remember looking into his blue eyes and holding close. Silently promising him the best I could in this fucked up world. Then I looked at my Cassandra, my rock, my harbor in the storm. I looked into the stormy steel eyes and kissed her for all I worth. Hoping my unsaid message of love and devotion was noticed.

Then of course we were interrupted by some Vault Tec asshat in a lab coat telling us it's time to enter our individual decontamination chamber. Hince the third waring something was wrong.

Now thanks to my years in the Rangers I have seen a lot of things. New tech and research of Big MT things but this was no decontamination chamber I have ever seen. In fact it looked more like a sarcophagus pod than a decontamination chamber.

Of course my fears of the future and my small family standing in front of me (and my instincts of finding a safe and secure space for us) distracted my “IT'S A TRAP” instincts. Well that and the armed Vault Tec security officer standing behind the asshat in the lab coat.

We then of course follow instructions and get in to the sarcophagus of decontamination. Luckily Cassandra Shaun and I were able to get pods across from one another and see each other from across the hall via view ports. We hear the computer voice say “Decontamination start in 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1..” as it hit one Cassandra and I reached for each other then the blackness took me.

The next thing I remember is hearing voices as I was coughing up liquid. Then I see these science types in light blue radiation gear with what looked like Leonardo Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man as a symbol over their right breast, and a man that was definitely a mercenary.

They stop in front of Cassandra's pod, gods knows I tried to get out but I was weak. The merc took a fighting stance pointed his (I'm guessing .44) revolver at Cassandra's view port and nods to the DaVinci wannabe. They activated her pod and as it open I can hear Shaun's cry's. Of course I'm shouting and pounding on my viewport, trying to get people's attention to no avail.

Then the gun shot (definitely .44), and all I can see is Cassandra's shocked face. Then I hear this ungodly roar (I guess it was me by the way that merc and that DaVinci wannabe looked at me) and that fucking merc smiled at me. and I swear to all that is holy, I will find him and wipe that smile off his face with his own gun.

Then blackness again.

I don't know how long I was out but the next thing I hear is a kalaxian blaring over and over again. I shifted and cracked one of my eyes open to immediately shut it again as the low light seared through my brain. Igniting a headache that has yet to leave me. Then all that has happened to this point, slams through my brain. Panicking I look up to my wife's pod to find it empty!

As I slowly get up, ignoring the pain as my muscles scream for me to lay down again, and stumble to the empty open pod. As I reached the pod I fall to my knees, I rub my eyes a couple times in disbelief. Then all I see from my position is a small but dried blood smear and the bloody bullet lodged in the upper corner of the interior pod. I grabbed a flat head screwdriver form the nearby tool box and proceeded to attempt to dialogue the bullet. I can't tell you why it was important but it was.

After sometime I finally work the damn thing out and as it popped out from its position I missed the catch and it bounced to the floor. Wanting that bullet I went after it. Fate must have been with me because it landed next to a blood spot and the broken chain of Cassandra's pendant necklace that she inherited from her mom. As I pick up the pendent I realised that Cassandra rarely took it off and was often a favorite chew toy for Shaun.

The pendet Itself was shaped in the form of a mother (tigers eye) cradling a newborn (lapis lazuli). Behind it was my dented dog tags and behind those Cassandra's wedding band and engagement ring. Unfortunately part of the mother was broken as well my tags were bent from what looked like a bullet going through or at least ricocheted off them.

Hope then. Not much but enough to move forward.

I look around and see the vault in disrepair as well as the other pods. I get up stretching my muscles and walk to the next pod to the right of mine. The viewport was fogged up so I pull the release switch and the body of ole Bob fell out. He was dead from the looks of it (and no pulse I checked). He seemed to be dead for a while. Then the next pod down (left of mine) to his wife, same condition. So was the next and the next one after that. All dead. Then I see a computer at the beginning of the hall.

I turn on the monitor to see the screen blinking in time with the klaxon, saying cryo Lab 3 critical malfunction. I acknowledge the waring and the klaxon mercifully stop blaring. I continue to read the warning displayed on the screen and discovered that all residents of the pods pronounced were dead. With the exception of my pod and Cassandra's pod. However nothing was timed stamped or dated even.

Diary, Journal, log thingy, or hypothetical reader. I'm going to say right now, I been alone for a long time even during my military service but before I met Cassandra I could handle that feeling and let me try to describe that feeling.

It's like your hollow inside and nothing you do matters. You go through the motions of life, do what's expected of you, try not to make a fuss. Be that man your father wanted, be a pawn in his games. That pawn for the government. Of course I had ambition but it had nowhere to go and it kinda peters out. I joined the military to get away from my father in Texas. Went north to get away from that toxic family but it followed me here and everywhere I went. I was looking to die at the start of Anchorage.

Of course I wasn't wanting to go alone so decided to take as many of those invading Chinese bastards with me. But somehow I lived through that campaign. I was in Washington DC receiving my medals when I met Cassandra and that's the day I finally knew how to live, I wasn't alone anymore.

However in that moment after reading how Everyone in that bay was dead. That lonely feeling hit me full force and truthfully I don't know how I handled the loneliness before. Because for the first time in 10 years I remember what it felt like. I don't know how long I stood there looking at nothing but eventually I moved. Looking at the ground I saw more blood pointing out a side door.

Following the trail, it lead me to a side office that looked like a tornado ransack the place. If I had to guess it was my wifes doing. Because in all the mess was a bloody discarded vault suit, empty packaging of a new suit and the remnants of a first aid kit. I also noticed blood leading in but not out.

Good signs. Like Cassandra's uncle Nick always said, “If there ain't no body, then there ain't nobody dead.”

I proceed through the vault to see if there was any supplies missed, and proceeded after hopefully after Cassandra. As I continued through the vault I saw the evidence of Cassandra throughout the place. Bodies of well squished Radroaches, (which made tracking her easier) messy mess hall (phtb) and other signs of life. Eventually I proceeded to the overseer’s office ransacking what supplies I could along the way. At the overseer's office is where I found my first weapon and information about the vault.

Yeah I remember that dash of experimentation that I told you of for the making of a time traveler? Well it turns out vault-tec was doing social experimentation on us for the long-term effects of cryogenically freezing the human body.

Bastards

At the overseer got what was coming It seems that the security crew pulled a coup de gras after rations was getting low to leave the vault. I can summarize this because I'm standing over the bastards bullet-riddled skeletal remains and by the entries of his computer. Not even sorry

I then proceeded to the access tunnel that the overseer had and came into the supply room where I was able to find a Pip-Boy brand spanking new in the box. After starting it up and getting it tuned to my body I proceeded to the vault door into the entrance of this gods-forsaken tomb.

I was able to reach to the top of the Vault and finally see the destruction of those idiots. If my other description of how fucked our world is, see my earlier description of the world. I will say this however nature is slowly reclaiming what is hers I have no doubt that you'll be able to do it in the next couple thousand years or so. Because life marches on with or without humans.

However there is the problem of me losing the trail of my wife at the top of the vault. So naturally I thought she would head down to the house that we wants to live in that is now a ruin. Funny enough I come across our old robot codsworth still trying to do his programmed duties.so after a not so heartwarming reunion, I found out that Codsworth has not seen my wife and we sweep the neighborhood, looking for supplies and clues of Cassandra or of Shaun's kidnappers, until the sun was on the horizon.

I need to apologize to Codsworth, I don't think he appreciated my smartassery. Though Codsworth did say there was a rainstorm not to long ago but that makes tracking Cassandra that more difficult. However not impossible.

I pray that the gods are still with me on this journey. Lord Hades take the dead into your realm and give them proper rest. Also if you could thank Bob for me, his fallout shelter was still intact and relatively stocked hope he didn't mind. Lady Diana and Lady Freya guide me into the hunt for my wife and son, keep my shots square and true. Odin help me keep my knowledge and strength in this endeavor. Lady Athena help me keep my strategy sound and wit about me. And to Jesus grant mercy to those who stand against me for I will have none to give.

This is Hawk signing off

End entry Oct 24 2287 0107

(quote from Fullmetal Alchemist and Band of Brothers)

#fallout #fallout 4

1 note · View note

birdiethebibliophile · 6 years ago

Text

{fic} That Old Sweet Feeling (part 13)

Fandom: The Adventure Zone: Commitment Rating: M Chapter Warnings: None Relationship: Nadiya Jones/Mary Word Count: 2,221

Here on AO3. Read the rest: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Tagging @someone-called-f1nch, @voidfishkid, @mellowstarscape, and @jumpboy-rembrandt!

This chapter is twice as long as the usual ones but y’all deserve it after my hiatus for a while there. Look forward to some once-a-week updates for a while!

Chapter Summary: Nadiya makes an observation. Mary Sage cracks a code. Remy gets a letter.

__________________

"How far does this go?" Remy squinted down the tunnel. The yellow light from Nadiya's flashlight was dim and watery in the complete darkness.

"Long ways," Nadiya said absently. "Like, fifteen miles, I think. At least. Until it gets gross. There's entrances all along, though, closest one is only a mile or two along..."

Remy frowned, glancing sideways at Nadiya. She'd seemed kind of distracted since she'd woken up. "You okay, Nad?"

She scowled at him. "I'm fine, Rembrandt. None of your business, so fuck off."

"It's kind of a little my business," he argued. "What if you have a concussion or something? What if you get sick? What if -"

"I'm fine," Nadiya snapped. "Excuse me if I'm a bit upset about my life's work either being destroyed or being sold indiscriminately by people who have no rights to it." She glanced behind them. Kardala and Mary were trailing a bit behind, Kardala illuminating the tunnel with a handful of blue lightning. "If there's anyone you should worry about, it's them."

"What? Why?"

"Maybe not Kardala so much, but she's been acting weird. Irene-y. Look." Nadiya jerked her head back again, and Remy looked. Kardala said something to Remy that he couldn't hear over the crackle of the lightning, then grinned, and Mary snorted in laughter. "And then Mary Sage..." Nadiya trailed off.

"Is she okay?"

"Depends what you mean by that." Nadiya swept the flashlight beam across the tunnel floor, sending a cockroach scuttling away. Remy yelped, but Nadiya didn't react. "Relax," Nadiya said, annoyed. "Haven't you seen a cockroach before?"

"N...o," Remy admitted, a little sheepishly. "You have?"

"I've been down here before," Nadiya reminded him, "and when you're a broke grad student, you end up living in some interesting places. Plus, I've dissected cockroaches before. Pretty boring, really."

Remy made a face. "Still. Gross."

"Coward," Nadiya said, but amiably enough that it didn't hurt his feelings. "Anyways, on the subject of Mary Sage. I think relatively speaking, she's doing okay, more or less. It's just... overall? I don't know." The sound of her laughter drifting up to them again. "I don't know, Remy," Nadiya said quietly, and for the first time since he'd met her, Remy thought Nadiya sounded concerned. "I wish I could've used my lab. Maybe I could figure out if there was something about my stimplants that genuinely fucked with her head. I keep... fuck, I keep thinking through all my experiments with them, the stuff I did on myself, everything. I can't think of how it could've gone wrong. Or maybe it wasn't the stimplants, and she's just -" Nadiya broke off. "Anyways. Fuck if I know."

Remy's fingers were tapping a rapid tattoo on his thigh as he tried not to fidget with the bandage around his wrist. "It's not your fault," he said.

"Sure." Nadiya was looking surly again. "If this doesn't end with me getting a lot of money in compensation, I'm going to be pissed." She picked up the pace, leaving Remy a few steps behind.

For once, he didn't mind being on his own. He had to think. He felt like there was an answer to – something – just beyond what he could figure out. If his brain would stop jumping around for one second, he'd be able see what it was.

He knew it had something to do with the laptop. It had to. He should've decoded it before. He should've tried harder. It might be too late, now, it might not matter, but he had to try. It had to be something.

When they stopped to rest, Remy went over to Mary. "Hey."

She was eating a power bar. "Hey."

"You're good with computers, right?"

"Yeah. Thought you were too, nerd."

Remy grinned. "I'm IT. I don't do coding, I just fix problems. Anyways, I have this... thing... that I could use some help with. You down?"

"Why not? Lemme at it."

They both sat down against the wall, and Remy, after a furtive look around that revealed nothing except Nadiya (staring at the brick as if she could vaporize it with heat vision) and Kardala (staring contemplatively into her handful of lightning). Then he pulled out the laptop and booted it up.

Mary whistled. "That a ten-bit encryption?"

"I don't know," Remy admitted. "I know I need to get into it, though. Can you crack the encryption?"

"Yeah, probably. I can try. Where'd you get this, anyways?" Mary asked, taking the laptop and starting to tap into it, her hair lifting slightly as her powers activated.

"It doesn't matter, does it?"

"Guess not. Whatever." Mary's typing became more rapid. "Damn. This is deep. Whoever it was must've been a sick coder. Cyber security or something."

Remy shifted uncomfortably, searching for any other subject. "Have you told Nadiya you like her yet?" he blurted.

"God, Jump Boy, keep it down," Mary hissed, her head jerking up to look at Nadiya, but it was clear she hadn't heard. "'Course not, are you kidding? We're in a fuckin'… sewer, on the run, and you think that's a good time to tell Reed McScienceface Richards that I got a crush? Not a chance in hell."

"I dunno, I think it's a great idea," Remy said. "It's like, who knows what's going to happen next, right? So why not go for it?"

"You think she wants something like that right now?" Mary said, jerking her head back towards the computer screen and shoving her glasses up on her nose, squinting through them at the lines of scrolling code. "No fuckin' way. Nah, I'm, uh... not gonna put that on her. We're both dealing with our own shit. I'm not dumping mine on her as well. Wouldn't be fair."

"If you want to look at it that way, we're always going to have our own shit," Remy said, shrugging. "Right? It's not just going to go away."

"Maybe." Mary's fingers slowed slightly in their frantic typing. "But... I don't wanna fuck this up. I'm only gonna get one shot at it, right? And -" She suddenly froze as the computer screen blinked white. "Holy shit. I think I got it."

Remy snatched the laptop out of her hands. His heart revved to racing speed. Please let this actually be something, he thought. Not just another red herring. Please let this tell me something about what happened to them.

The screen blinked a few times, then a single folder popped up. Read This First, one of the documents said.

"Remy?" Mary said. "You look weird. You okay?"

He clicked on it.

Dear Remy, dear Michael, the file read. I'm hoping it's one of you reading this. If you are, it means I'm gone. It means she found me – us – out. And it means you're in terrible danger. But you have to know everything. Ignorance is always a worse fate than knowledge.

Remy scrubbed at his eyes. That was what she used to say to them when they complained about homework. God, he missed her so much. Then he kept reading.

When your father and I were younger, we did some work for the government. Secret stuff. Research on hypnosis, and anti-terrorism, but mostly on a new science we called... bonds. These bonds are what holds everything in the universe together, connecting each person or thing to anything else. You've learned about ionic and covalent bonds in biology; these aren't that different, really. More powerful. Or maybe just easier to exploit.

We weren't the only ones working on this project. There was another woman on our team. Her name was Martine.

"Remy?" Mary sounded scared. "Remy, what is it?"

I didn't quite trust her from the beginning. She seemed too interested, not just academically. She was a biochemist, a neurologist who specified in hormone study. She managed to create a heightened form of oxytocin that strengthened the bonds, creating artificial ones between small groups of people. She could manipulate them, control certain aspects of their bodies or even their minds. Our supervisors grew worried, and one day, they unexpectedly shut down the entire project. All three of us were out of a job.

We kept in touch. Your father and I got married, started research at our lab in Maryland. Remember, I showed you boys around one time? Michael, you were born, and then you a few years later, Remy. We were happier than we could ever remember. We were glad that our project got shut down.

Martine wasn't.

She moved down to Florida, but I would still e-mail with her sometimes. She was my friend. I wanted to trust her, especially then, when she was my only other connection to that time in my life, something I could talk about with no one except her and your father. That was my own fault, I suppose. I should've known better. I did know better. You're like me, Remy. We always want to believe the best of people.

Martine was continuing her research, outside of government approval. I didn't turn her in, of course; she wasn't breaking confidentiality, just expanding into her own field, or at least that's what I thought. Then, when you were about ten, I got a worrying message from her. She was excited - she'd found someone who shared her ambitions. They were working together to expand her ideas. I could read between the lines, though. He was a fanatic, a revolutionary who was the perfect person to enable her increasingly dangerous research. Still, I didn't think much of it. She had no way to implement any of her ideas. I kept e-mailing with her, keeping tabs on what she was doing.

Then everything changed.

It was only three days ago, three days before I'm writing this, but by the time you read this - I don't know. I'm so sorry, Remy. Right before the Olympics, too. The worst possible timing. Martine called me. She was so excited, but I heard the edge to her voice that made me worry. She said she'd just read some revolutionary new research on body modification, published by a young academic, a wildly precocious young woman named Nadiya Jones from a university in Nevada.

"Mary?" Remy said, almost unaware his mouth was moving. "Get Nadiya and Kardala. Now. Please."

Martine believed that the combination of her altered oxytocin (made much more stable over years of experimentation) and these stimplants could create people with superhuman abilities, connected with each other, and more importantly, with her. She believed, in essence, that she could create an army of supersoldiers under her control. She and Richard could use them to force the revolution they wanted. She mentioned in passing that he wasn't completely on board yet - something about wanting a fair election - but it was clear that she didn't think that would work, and there was no question that they would need to resort to her plan.

After so many years of keeping my mouth shut, I couldn't anymore. I told her exactly what I thought of that plan. Things got ugly. She threatened me. She threatened you two. I hung up on her mid-rant, but the damage was done.

She knows where we live. She knows where I work. I don't know what she's going to do, and I don't know how to stop her.

If you're reading this, either of you, hopefully it means it's not too late. Use this information. Use the information from our research years ago on bonds. I know this is so much to put on you, but I'm praying still that this finds its way into your hands. Who else could I trust?

I'm so sorry. Not only for putting this burden on you, but for not acting sooner. I was afraid, not of Martine, but of destroying my relationship with her, however toxic it was. I thought I would be able to see this coming, stop it before it got to this point. I wanted to believe Martine would never go to these lengths. But she's more powerful than ever, maybe even more than I know.

I love you both. I hope you'll never read this. I hope I'll be able to delete this document and forget it ever existed. Just in case, though, all the research your father and I did on bonds all those years ago is on this computer as well. DO NOT SHOW THIS TO ANYONE YOU WOULD NOT TRUST WITH YOUR LIFE. I made that mistake once, and don't want you to repeat it.

If it isn't the two of you reading this, whoever you are, please use this information for good, or destroy it. If it is, I trust your hearts. Good luck. Your father seals this with his love as well.

Love,

Mom (Christine Rembrandt)

Remy was crying in earnest now, the screen blurry in front of his eyes. He scrubbed at his face with the edge of his hoodie sleeve. As much as he wanted to curl up and not move for a few minutes – or preferably a few days – he didn't have that luxury.

"Guys?" he said, glancing up to see his three friends crowded around him, varying degrees of worry on their faces. "We have a real big problem." He took a shuddering breath. "You need to hear this..."

#taz #taz commitment #taz fanfiction #nadiya jones #irene baker #kardala #mary sage #space cadet #christopher rembrandt #remy #the adventure zone #the adventure zone commitment #taz: c #that old sweet feeling #tosf #mine #HAVE SOME PLOT #THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD CHAPTER TO WRITE #we're really getting into it now

5 notes · View notes

xyliane · 7 years ago

Text

not selling any alibis: chapter 1

summary: killua is an assassin, but he has a pest. a cockroach. and it’s making his normal non-assassin life hell. not least because his family insists on making it all his fault.

notes: I’ve been working on this thing for. gosh. I think the initial idea for this au came back in january (on minimal sleep, probably), and it’s been percolating and simmering until it’s finally boiled over. anyways it’s a spy/assassin au. T, killua zoldyck, zoldyck family shenanigans (read: illumi is awful and the rest aren’t much better). killugon. 3400 words.

fic will update...probably not til the holidays tbh, the next few weeks are eeeeeeeeeeeevil. I just wanted to see if there was any interest in this mess.

[ETA] fic is now updating on ao3! link is here.

-----

chapter 1: eyes in your pockets, nose on the ground

-----

“Do you have the target?”

Killua adjusts his sights, the comfortable weight of his sniper rifle keeping him steady even on this rickety perch. Across the wide street, typing away at her desk with the blissfully ignorance of someone trying to finish their paperwork at the end of the day. Killua doesn’t know who she is, and frankly, tells himself he couldn’t care less. It’s not in his job description.

Assassin means quick, clean, and quiet. Killua may be the best in the business, but that doesn’t mean he has to know about the lives of the people he kills.

“Target locked,” he says over the comm.

His brother’s voice hums an affirmative. “No sign of your cockroach?”

“None so far.”

“And what about in the street entrances? You cannot afford another loss, Kil.”

“Don’t have to tell me that twice. Or twenty times,” Killua mutters. Illumi is a pain in the ass to have on comms. His oldest brother might be a great assassin, but when he plays spotter for Killua, he can’t stop backseat driving. If Illumi’s going to insist Killua stay in the family business, to the point that he takes spotter whenever possible, he can stay out of Killua’s personal life.

So far, it’s worked out okay that way. Killua has his life, a normal life with classes and video games and friends and a years-long crush on his best friend, and he has his family’s work. They do not cross paths.

It had been going well for years. He’d moved out of the mansion to attend high school, having finally proved to Father that he could be in a “normal” school and stay at the top of the game. It was there he met Gon Freecss, a cannonball of sunshine and chaos who wormed his way into Killua’s heart, the best friend he could have ever asked for, even if Killua doesn’t know what he did to deserve Gon. Five years later, their mess of a two-bedroom apartment is nothing like Aunt Mito’s house or the Zoldyck mansion, but it’s theirs. It’s Killua’s space to not be a Zoldyck, to not worry about being perfect at what his family wants. To be best friends with Gon even if that means spending too much brainpower stomping down on the urge to burst into his best friend’s room and kiss him senseless.

Gon, of course, doesn’t suspect a thing. He’s used to Killua’s odd hours at this point, and with his job at Kite’s clinic doing some bizarre combination of paperwork and site visits for whatever it is Kite does, it’s not like Gon keeps normal hours either. He’s also too damn oblivious to realize anything involving kissing or desires to kiss or anything else that makes Killua lie awake at night debating the merits of screaming into his pillows.

But the last year or so, the jobs Killua’s taken have run into…a pest. His cockroach. A spy almost as good at their job as Killua is at his, with the tendency to snatch Killua’s best finds right out from under him. Can’t kill anyone if they vanish into the system, or protective custody, or hell, maybe the cockroach kills them.

How they vanish isn’t the problem, it’s that they do. It pisses Killua the hell off that he’s lost five separate targets in the last nine months, and neither he nor his family can figure out how. It’s not uncommon to run into rivals in their game, but it is rare for anyone to get a leg up on a Zoldyck, least of all one so good that Killua hasn’t even seen them for himself. For every botched job he has, he has to complete another three for even a fraction of his reputation to return. He does them, and he does them damn well, but then this asshole cockroach gets under his feet again and screws everything back to hell.

Which is how he ends up with Illumi resuming his role as Killua’s handler and backseat driver, like he’s twelve again and off on assassin’s first contract. That pisses Killua off almost as much as the cockroach themself.

He checks his backup cameras just in case anything’s crawled in while he was scoped. Nothing at all. “I’m clear. You see anything, Illumi? Since you’re the one with the security cams and all.” And has nothing better to do than be a pain in the ass, but Killua doesn’t say that out loud.

“There is nothing on my scans.” Killua is about to make fun of how easily Illumi is mixing up “checked the cameras” with “intensive scanning” when his brother makes a noise almost like a hum of recognition. It’s the sort of noise Illumi made when Killua was about to eat the unpoisoned fruit, or step on the sturdy boards while training, instantly signaling that something is not going according to plan. Come to think of it, maybe that was more of the point of the training beyond mere poison resistance or surviving four story falls: the ability to notice even the smallest details, even from someone familiar.

Killua snaps his attention back to the scope. The woman is still in her office, still typing away. “What is it?” Killua bites off.

“Oh, well. Perhaps there is something.”

If Killua keeps grinding his teeth, he’ll probably have nothing but stubs by the time he’s thirty. If he lives that long without either killing his brother or having a heart attack from one of Gon’s stupid ideas.

Killua’s just as stupid and infinitely more selfish, though, because now he finds himself wanting more from Gon. The sort of more that is a massive distraction when trying to line up a kill shot and his spotter is not doing his damn job of spotting problems before they become issues.

“Illumi. What did you see.”

“Hear, little brother. You must use all your senses.”

Sniper rifles are heavy, and Killua is increasingly considering the value of abandoning his position to bludgeon his brother to death. “What did you hear, then?”

“The sound of clampers attempting to scale the alley side of the building.”

Killua swears. That’s outside of his view and his cameras, supposedly under Illumi’s watch. That’s the point of having a backup and a spotter—someone to keep an eye on things he shouldn’t have to worry about. If he’d been on his own, like he should be, Killua would have spent the extra time to set up additional surveillance. Being even partially blind is horrible, especially at times like these. Killua is the best because he knows what he might miss. Relying on Illumi is a terrible blindspot, even in the best circumstances.

“Hook me into the audio while you figure out where the fuck this cockroach is,” Killua says. Illumi hums in acknowledgment and Killua’s headphones crackle with static, making him wince. Whatever frequency Illumi has been on, it’s next to impossible to hear anything. He fiddles with his receiver, trying to clear the sound.

He’s almost got it when the noise clears abruptly, Illumi’s voice returning. “Kil. Take out the target now.”

“It’s not the right time—”

“Your cockroach is taking the chance, so we must take ours. Shoot her.”

“On your head,” Killua mutters, and cuts the comms to focus in on the window. He steadies, aims—

And almost fires at an empty office, vacant except for a gently spinning office chair and a piece of paper with an enormous smiley face taped to the computer screen. Better luck next time! it says.

Killua swears again and slams his headset on the floor hard enough to make it crack.

—

If he hadn’t promised Father he’d stop by the mansion after the job—the failed attempt at his fucking job—Killua would have followed through on earlier plans to clobber his brother with the business end of his rifle and gone straight home. Gon has a way of making even the worst days palatable, just by being himself. He also seems to be having trouble at work lately, but what complaints are left to commiserating over a handle of cheap whiskey. Hopefully he’ll still be awake by the time Killua gets back.

Instead, he spends the forty five minutes it takes to fly to Kukuroo Mountain and the Zoldyck helipad filling out paperwork and wishing he could be with his best friend instead of within punching distance of Illumi’s blank face.

The Zoldyck mansion and grounds around Kukuroo Mountain used to be one of Killua’s favorite places growing up, full of mystery and danger even with all of the training he went through. Now, it’s okay sometimes—Mother is still overprotective, Father still expects Killua to become a carbon copy of himself, and Grandpa Zeno always looks like he’s trying to test Killua on something. Milluki’s always working on some super secret hacking project, and Kalluto’s been loaned to a colleague indefinitely. But Alluka’s not even at the main mansion anymore, so what little joy Killua had left in the house he grew up in is also gone. Some bullshit about Mother and Father wanting to keep her projects “safe,” but more likely it’s to keep her apart from Killua. Her and Nanika both.

And there’s Illumi, who should stay on the other side of the moon as long as he stays out of Killua’s business. Something he is deliberately failing to do.

The corridor to Father’s office gapes and yawns, the stretches between wrought iron lamps seeming to elongate with every step Killua takes. He’s dreading this conversation more than almost any other. Not helping are the prim steps of Illumi, just behind him and far enough to the side to reverberate in slightly disjointed echoes down the hall.

By the time the door arrives, Killua is half-jittery with the need to do something, anything to get out of this house. Instead, he pushes the door open and slips into the room, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Welcome home, Kil,” Father says. He’s shucked his bespoke suit jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, blue eyes unreadable from behind the desk. People always say Killua takes after him, his height and his white hair and his blue eyes if not his bulk. How Silva ever managed to build a reputation as an assassin is less to do with stealth and more to do with brutal efficiency. But Father’s presence is grounded and weighty where Killua’s is electric and sharp, perhaps from age but just as likely from experience, even if Killua’s completed almost double the amount of contracts as when Silva was his age. There’s a reason Killua is heir to the Zoldyck dynasty, not because he wants to be but because he’s damn good at it.

It’s unusual to see Father out of his work clothes while in the office, even long after the end of the day. Propriety is vital in this business, he’d explained once, when Killua was too small to really know what the word meant. Mom, a slim black-haired shadow perched in her high backed chair at Father’s right hand, remains in her best work kimono, thick glasses glimmering in the red light.

Grandpa nods, his normal grin gone. “I hear there were complications again.”

Killua tries not to whip his head back to glare at Illumi. “I have my report here,” he says. “I had hoped to go over it myself, not have it fed through some incompetent third party.”

Illumi plucks the papers from his fist and gives them to Mom. “I believe, as your observer, I am neither a third party nor incompetent,” he says.

“Your screw ups cost me my job tonight, brother,” Killua snarls.

“Perhaps you should have checked your own tools rather than relying on what you perceived to be lacking in the first place.”

“I did set them up, you took them from me!”

“Boys,” Mom says, her voice dripping with misplaced emotions. “Don’t fight, not here. Kil, your report is flawless, but it does support what Illu reported already.”

“It’s not my fault.”

Grandpa Zeno at least looks a little sympathetic when he says, “Fault doesn’t matter, kid. Results do. And yours don’t look good.”

Killua does not growl or pace. He doesn’t allow his family the satisfaction of seeing his frustration manifest here. Instead, he pulls his hands out of his pockets and unrolls his copy of the paperwork. “I have the best record in this house, except for yours, Grandpa,” Killua says. “My only failed assignments have all occurred within the last eight months, and even taking those into account, I am succeeding well above Kalluto or Illumi’s expected averages. And all of them are related to that fucking cockroach.”

Father props his chin up on his fist. “Yet compared to your standards, you lack, Kil. That is unacceptable.”

“I still believe this is to do with his current living situation,” Illumi says softly, black eyes not showing a hint of emotion, not even satisfaction or success he’s obviously luxuriating in. “He has taken fewer and fewer contracts in the past few years. Perhaps it is time for the heir to come home.”

That is not negotiable. Killua is not leaving his apartment, his home, his friends. He’s worked too hard to keep that part of his life safe, locked away from his family and the blood on his hands. But he swallows the fear right back where it came from. “That’s besides the point. What I need to know is how my missions keep getting leaked.”

Father glances at Mom, who shrugs melodramatically. “There have been no words on leaks, Kil.”

Killua rolls his eyes. “I don’t screw up. Not like this. You know there’s something going on, or you wouldn’t have me under surveillance again. Either Milluki’s losing his touch or you’re getting lazy, Illumi.”

A brief flash of a grin passes across Zeno’s face, more for Killua’s benefit than anyone else in the room. “Told you he’d find them,” he mutters loud enough to echo. Father glares deadpan, the same look Illumi gives but with the strength and age to back it up. Unfortunately, when it’s targeted at Grandpa, it does about as much good as an water gun in a hurricane.

“Kil, no one else in the family is suffering from these losses,” Father says. “We suspect it’s coming from your end.”

Killua’s hackles rise defensively. “It definitely isn’t. I run sweeps every day, before and after missions, and whenever Gon’s in class. I made the protocols that allow me to stay out of this place, and you all approved them. Hell, you use them in all our safehouses now. Including Alluka’s systems—”

“Then the protocols need to be updated, darling,” Mom says. “As do those for field surveillance. Illumi, you will oversee Kil’s efforts at both of these.”

“Of course, Mother.”

“What? No! This was Illumi’s fault in the first place.” Working with Illumi out of the field is even worse than the backseat assassining that happens on the job. No way is this going to end without Killua tearing his hair out.

“Don’t argue, kid,” Zeno says. “Silva wanted to keep you at home until the aiai protocol is fixed. Consider this a compromise.”

“There’s a problem with Nanika?” Killua asks. “I thought Alluka finished last year. What has she said?”

“It’s nothing Milluki can’t fix,” Father says.

Mom looks more upset about this than Father, but she wants him back under the Zoldyck thumb almost as much as Illumi. Father’s always emphasized, if Killua can maintain his success and his secrecy, he can “expand his horizons” or whatever he says to excuse Killua’s flights of whimsy. Not that they are whimsical at all. Killua simply wanted to have a little corner of life for his own. Father seemed alright with even that, just so long as Killua never tested his leash.

At least, until now. The risk of losing what little independence he has looms large in Killua’s mind, and he shudders at the thought. He can’t lose all the time he’s put into stupid classes and stupid university credits just to lose them now. More importantly, he can’t lose his friendships. It’s bad enough he doesn’t get to see Alluka. Losing Gon…

Killua straightens, pulling his shoulders back and meeting Father eye for eye. “Fine,” he says. “If I get an extra visitation day.”

“Done. And you’ll install the new modifications in your apartment,” Father says.

“In the complex’s public spaces, not in my apartment,” Killua says.

“Today.”

“Tomorrow. I have to wait for Gon to go to class, since coming all the way out here means I’m not getting home til after dinner.”

His best friend’s name makes a flicker of emotion pass across Illumi’s face, sour and unamused. Killua marks a point in his favor, a tiny spot of hope in this mess.

“Agreed,” Father says.

Killua lets out a breath slowly, not letting his relief show on his face. “Great. So can we get to sorting out the leak now? Since I’m here, and not going to class tomorrow.”

Kikyo shakes her head, tapping her long nails on her husband’s desk. “We will take care of that, I think,” she says.

“If it’s centered on my contracts and no one else’s, I should be involved.”

“We have it under control,” Father says.

He’d said the same thing before all but exiling Alluka from the family, like she was a problem to be solved rather than Killua’s sister. He’d said it when the protocol—when Nanika was moved to the main mansion once its immediate success didn’t take hold. It takes every single spotless job to earn even a fraction of time with her, and losing that… It’s not a comforting thought. “Obviously not as much as you think, or I wouldn’t be missing another contract,” Killua says.

“You are the only unaccounted-for element in this search,” Illumi says. “Perhaps you should not be involved at all.”

“I—”

Grandpa nods somberly. “We’ve been discussing this privately for some time now, Kil. If you are the target of this subterfuge, you should not be involved in the search. It would only draw more attention. And your performance during this time has been an issue as well.”

Killua’s eyes narrow. If they’re talking about a break, he’d take it gladly. He’s never had one, not while applying for university, not when Gon came down with some terrible upper respiratory infection, not even the first time one of Professor Krueger’s hell tests descended upon his grades. But if they’re talking locking him out of his own problems, just because he’s not following their plans…

“Are you seriously accusing me of leaking my own contracts?” Killua asks incredulously. He can’t stand his family most of the time, but they’re his family. Even Illumi. He can’t betray them to someone else. The very thought is anathema.

But no one responds. It’s worse than if someone said to his face they thought he was a traitor, because at least that way Killua would know who to punch. Instead, Father says, “Kil, you know the suspension protocols. No contact with the family, no access to the grounds, no further contracts. No access to family resources. Use the time to triple check your protocols and install any updates in the apartment complex.”

Killua balls his hands into fists. “You can’t suspend me now,” he says. “You need my help with this!”

“Check ins are once every twenty four hours with Illu,” Mom adds as though she doesn’t hear him. “Do not miss them, or all visitation rights will be revoked.”

“And if we cannot determine the cause, or decide it is too dangerous, you will return home and your visitation privileges to the secondary compound will be permanently revoked,” Father says. “It is too much of a risk to leave my heir in harm’s way, especially at a time like this.”

Illumi doesn’t smile. Illumi never smiles. But his blank black eyes seem to glimmer all the same. “You know how to reach me, Kil,” he says.

It takes every hard-won fiber of control in Killua’s body to keep himself from breaking the door on the way out.

#hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh fic #my writing #killua zoldyck #killugon #illumi zoldyck #silva zoldyck #kikyo zoldyck #please do not play a trope drinking game with this fic #you will Die #gonna post this on ao3 later this week #who's the cockroach???#spymance au

133 notes · View notes