#now it's entirely possible that he was able to hack into the laptop or something. he is a mechanical genius and he built it after all
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threephantomrey ¡ 2 months ago
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what i think the 13 Ghosts would be doing and where they would be in modern day:
• Nekara: AT THE CLUB!!!! people first meet her on the dance floor and she love bombs them. she then tells them she wants some alone time with them so she takes them to a private spot where she steals all their valuables and then kills them. that or she uses dating apps to find victims, and says on her profile that she wants casual dating and when the person she’s being casual with wants to take things to the next level, she leaves and kills them. puts down other women in order to get a man’s attention
• Zomba: traps people in their phones or laptops and traps them in specific websites/apps. like now for an eternity she tortures them by trapping them in twitter and making them read the most stupid discourse about things that don’t matter, or whenever they post something EVERYONE misinterprets whatever they���re saying and no one is able to understand what they’re actually saying except for the person who posted the tweets.
• Rankor: possesses phones and laptops to hack peoples accounts. i’m talking social media accounts, work emails, school emails, bank accounts. he hacks someone’s spotify and they’re forced to listen to “High Hopes” by Panic At The Disco for eternity.
• Demondo: on deviantart and AO3 torturing artists by forcing them to post AI art.
• Maldor: makes cursed melatonin and other sleep supplements and sells them to mortals at their local pharmacy, also sells cursed mattresses at Raymour & Flanigan
• Queen Morbidia: she disguises herself as a doctor and says she does blood transfusions but really she just steals other people’s blood and feeds on it
• Time Slime: is behind the current nostalgia trend and the cinematic universe trend. creates tiktok to shorten the attention spans of gen z as much as possible. messes with time so much that people from the past are now born in the future and is also constantly making people rewrite and forget history
• Captain Ferguson: disguises himself as a lifeguard at beaches but instead of actually being one, he makes sure everything aligns so that the people at the beaches drown mysteriously
• Professor Phantazmo: becomes a tiktok influencer and a youtuber to give gen z and gen alpha brainrot
• Marcella: gets young people to summon her and make her all powerful by posting videos about spells and witches and telling them to recite the spells in the comments
• Zimbulu: trains wild animals at zoos to attack and kill the people that are visiting there and the people that work there
• Reflector Specter: uses any sort of mirror or camera to make someone believe they’re ugly and make them go mad as they try to constantly alter their appearance to feel better about themselves
• Asmodeus: is an EXTREMELY famous celebrity that has the most parasocial fanbase both online and offline that there’s ever been in all of history. he is in all corners of the internet, in every book, every game, every movie, every advertisement, every show, every video, every song, on every billboard. is #1 ALLL of the time. constantly breaking records. no one can get away from him. someone gives him the slightest amount of criticism and his entire fanbase shows up at their house in .00002 seconds with torches and pitchforks. someone disagrees with something he said or did? he orders his fanbase to shun and attack them and ruin their and their family and friend’s lives. he literally is a cult leader.
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pogueit ¡ 3 years ago
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T.T: Sick Day
Pairing: Topper Thornton x reader
Summary: In the midst of Y/N and Topper's dating scheme Y/N happens to get sick and Topper can't help but be himself...
Warnings: None??? Maybe being sick??
WC: 1,047!
A/N: Hello!! I just had this cute lil idea abt fake dating with topper bc I love him... I might make this into a series... If you guys like it ofc.... ENJOY!!!
When you woke up this morning you knew it was going to be an awful day, even before hearing the tantalizing voice of the frat boy you were recently tangled with. The two of you were only excessively spending time with each other to keep up with the appearance that you two were "dating". It was pretty stupid, you weren't going to lie, but after Sarah Cameron, the royal kook herself, dumped Topper for a slight downgrade and you had been kicked to the curb by your own royalty adjacent shit eater boyfriend, both of your parents were desperate for you two to find someone else. The begging and crying had got so bad that you finally caved and asked Tops to be your boyfriend until you could find someone else. You expected him to turn you down immediately, wanting to reminisce in the heartbreak, but he was rather excited especially with the prospects of possibly making Sarah just a tad jealous. You and Sarah haven’t been on speaking terms since the 7th grade and your history had been messy since the start. It was a win for both sides of the party and a deal neither of you wanted to miss out on. It came with its consequences though, you had caught feelings for Topper and you caught them hard. The more time you spent with the frosted tip goalie the more you had to keep reminding yourself that this "relationship" wasn't real and you had started regretting ever doing this in the first place. On top of your emotional distress, you were now sick. The sickness that was milling around while you were asleep was now ravaging through your body. You should've started chugging Nyquil two days prior, but being an idiot you just ignored it, and now you’re sicker than shit. It was concentrated in your chest and nasal passages. You could feel the mucus slowly building in your chest. It sat heavily at the base of your throat as the access spilled out through your nose.
"Babe, you are not going to believe this!" He was loud, so much so that your alarm would be jealous. This vocal range was reserved for special occasions since he is known for exclusive using his indoor voice, so you knew something was up.
"Can we cut it out for today Box Tops?" You croaked from the nest of blankets and pillows that you created.
"Ew, oh my god, y/n, are you okay?" He was aghast at the sight in front of him. You were buried under multiple blankets, so much so that he could only tell that you were in there because of the used tissues that were scattered all over your bed.
"Why does your room look like a 14-year-old's room?" He continued not allowing you to gather enough air in your flooded lungs to hack out an answer. Topper left his shoes by your door which you had to train him to do.
"Because I'm sick, you asshole!" With all your might you could barely bring yourself to semi-yell and you immediately regretted it as it sent you into a coughing fit that only flamed your burning throat and lungs.
"Go home, Top, I don't want you to get sick" you added after you recovered and shimmied inside your cacoon to face him better. You swore that he got cuter from the last time you saw him which was about 28 hours ago. Topper took a few steps forward before you threw out your hands.
"Don't get any closer!"
"What why?" He teased inching forward, letting his backpack, which he let you embroider, slump against your bed frame.
"You already know why!" You stated sternly, yet he still ignored you. Topper immediately jumped onto your bed and engulfed you in a gator hug.
"What the fuck!" You were able to place your foot on his stomach and push yourself away from him, but that was short-lived as he wormed his way under the blankets.
"Just shut up and enjoy my company" he reached out and pulled you to him wrapping his arms around you comforting you.
"Topper James Thornton, you're going to get sick and then die!" You try to fight him off again but he doesn’t even budge.
"I accept my fate!" He proclaimed giving you a quick kiss on your forehead and lessened the grip he had around you. You were going to continue fighting him but instead, you let a sigh escape your lips and dropped your head onto his shoulder. There was nowhere else to place your arm except around his waist. You slowly walked your fingers across his middle until your arm was wrapped around his waist it was almost like second nature at this point. The both of you stayed like that for a while. It let you reminisce about his presence next to you holding you close. Something that might be over soon if either of you decides to get a legit partner. At this point, if someone asked you out you didn't know if you could bring yourself to say yes. You would rather lie to yourself about Topper being your actual boyfriend for just a little while longer. After a few minutes, Topper shifted underneath you and fished out his laptop.
"So, what does my girl want to watch?" The way "my girl" rolled off his tongue flooded your stomach with butterflies, even though he was only doing it in a joking way.
"Wait... Let me see...Tremors or Spice World?" he grabbed your face in his hands and felt around for a second. He squished your face every so often all the while making a thinking noise.
"Topper!" Your voice was muffled by how squished he had your face.
"Wait... Almost there...Got it!" He beamed down at you and finally let you go.
"Spice World, right?" He looked at you expectantly. You let out a chuckle as a grin overtakes your features.
"Yes, Box Tops, you are correct and your prize is having me narrate this entire movie" You snuggle in closer to his side.
"I wouldn't have it any other way" a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he taps the space bar to begin the movie.
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kiranatrix ¡ 3 years ago
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What Comes Out in the Wash
Day 1: Hair @deathnotetober
Characters: Light, L, Watari, & mentions of Sayu // Rating: Gen; platonic (or Lawlight if you squint) // Summary: L wakes up with a huge rat’s nest in his hair and Watari says ‘handle it yourself,’ so Light has to help.
Co-written with @resilicns
——-
Sleep was something that was becoming increasingly rare for L to achieve these days, and when he did, it could hardly be called restful. He’d spend those few measly hours tossing, turning, kicking, and just squirming in general. When he slept on his own, this was hardly an issue, but now that he was sharing a bed with Light, things were getting a bit complicated.
L grunted quietly, pushing his elbow and forearm down into the bed as he lifted his head up off of the pillow, resting on his side. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he gazed around the room drowsily, trying to desperately grasp for awareness, until his gaze landed on a mirror. He lifted his other hand to feel his hair, touching the knotted mess he had noticed in his reflection. His hair was almost comparable to a bird’s nest at this point. Grimacing, he lifted the receiver off of the phone on the end table, pressing the button mapped to dial Watari’s phone in his office. He held it up to his ear and sighed quietly.
“Watari? I need you to come to my room. My hair is in need of brushing this morning,” L muttered, wincing as one of his fingers caught on a tangle and yanked the strand in that brief instant.
“Apolog--” Quillsh had covered the receiver to try and mask his hacking cough but it still came through the line. “Apologies, sir. It seems I’m unwell. I wouldn’t want to infect you with whatever I have. It’s quite dismal.” He held the phone away to sneeze several times into a monogrammed handkerchief. “You’ll have to make do on your own today.”
L paled slightly, holding the receiver away from his face for a second to stare at it as if it had personally offended him. When he held it back up to his ear, he sighed quite loudly. “I suppose we’ll have to inform the task force that they have the day off, today. However,” he frowned, pushing himself up into a sitting position as he clutched the phone. “Who will brush my hair? Who will prepare my meals? Who will select my clothing?” While he knew the latter was not necessary, the panic in his voice made it obvious he wasn’t thinking clearly.
Light opened one eye to see what all the fuss was about, frowning as he glared up at L. He hadn’t even gotten to sleep until after 3 am because L insisted on bringing his laptop to bed, loudly clacking on the keyboard and munching on panda cookies. The clock on the nightstand said it was just 6:30 am. I’m expected to work on a measly 3 hours sleep?!
“Can you keep your voice down, Ryuzaki?,” he huffed while turning over. “I’m not getting up until 7 and that’s that.”
Quillsh replied to L, “Everything will be fine. You know as well as I do that all your clothes are the same, no selection required. There are cakes and fruit in the refrigerator, and instant coffee if you can’t bother with the coffeemaker.”
He sighed tiredly, barely able to muster the energy needed to argue with L. “As for your hair...no time like the present to pick up a brush and try it yourself.” It was really past time for L to do that anyway but it meant time not focused on work, and was thus always deprioritized.
L gritted his teeth, gripping his own hair in his hand as his anxiety spiked just from the thought of trying to brush it himself. “But-..!” He stopped himself, squirming and making the bed bounce slightly. He completely ignored Light, his attention entirely focused on the call. “…alright. My apologies for disturbing you. Please get some rest and take care of yourself,” he murmured, quietly saying his polite goodbyes before hanging up the phone.
He turned to face forward, glancing at Light out of the corner of his eyes. He stared at the younger man for only a few seconds, moving to the end table and pulling out one of his hair brushes. He took a deep, loud breath to try and settle himself in preparation. However, no amount of preparation could prepare him for the instant pain that followed one frantic and barely-effective brush through his hair. He immediately chucked the item away from himself, hugging his knees to his chest in defeat.
Light snickered into his pillow and looked over his shoulder. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to try?” He turned over to face L, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Don’t tell me that the World’s Greatest Detective has been defeated by an eeeevil tangle,” he teased. He couldn’t help but rub it in a little after all the grief L had put him through lately.
L shot Light a bitter glare, his eyes slightly moist from the shock of pain. “It is painful, and I am choosing to avoid engaging in painful activities. I will just wait until Watari is well enough to brush my hair,” he huffed, averting his gaze. In truth, he knew his hair would only be even more impossibly tangled- potentially unsalvageable by the time the man was no longer ill.
“That is…” Light sat up and leveled L with an unimpressed stare. “...the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It’s just going to get worse if you put it off, and who even knows if he’ll be better tomorrow.” He leaned closer to examine L’s bedhead and let out a low whistle. Somehow, in the span of just 3 hours of sleep, the back of L’s head had gone from normal looking (for him) to a mess of matted, knotted hair. “Ok, I’ll admit that is pretty bad. I think even your tangles have tangles.”
He looked from the chaotic labyrinth of hair to the discarded brush thrown in the corner. L’s going to be a miserable grouch all day if this doesn’t get fixed. That made even the prospect of having the day off seem unappealing given who he was chained to. Plus, every moment they weren’t working, he was denied the chance to clear his name.
“Let me take a crack at it.” He glanced at L, giving him a little shrug like ‘why not?’ “It’s not like I can make it any worse.”
“You could still hurt me,” L muttered, glowering at Light. His expression was similar to a pout at this point, as if he was on the verge of crossing his arms and huffing.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Light sighed, still half-asleep. “I used to brush Sayu’s hair all the time when she was little.” Under his breath he murmured, “Anyway, you’d just tag on an assault charge onto my long list of ‘crimes’.’”
L hesitated for a moment before climbing off of the bed and retrieving the brush. Thankfully it wasn’t too far that the chain would cause any issues. He set the brush down in front of Light and sat down with his back towards the man. This is a terrible idea. However, if he goes out of his way to harm me, I can hold that against him.
Light picked up the brush tentatively, making a face at how overloaded with wiry black hair it was. “Hold on…it’s not going to do any good like this.” He pulled off the hair and dropped it from pinched fingers in the trash can beside the bed. “Ok, now we’re ready. Just...” He trailed off as he blinked at the back of L’s head-- specifically, the tumor-like protrusion of hair sticking out from the back. How could it have possibly gotten this bad?! Maybe I’m out of my depth here. “Um. Do you brush your hair every day, Ryuzaki?”
“Watari brushes it in the morning when it needs it,” L murmured, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. “He brushes it less now that I’m older.” Or now that he’s older.
Light fingered a few tangled tufts but didn’t pull, just surveying the damage to undo. “Have you...thought of using conditioner?”
L had to fight the urge to tilt his head, instead making a soft humming sound as he considered it. “No, I believe using soap for all of my washing is still the most efficient option. I see no reason that liquid soap is not enough to wash both my hair and my body.”
Light made a noise between a choke and a gasp, finally forcing out, “No...no, it’s...no, not at…” He sighed in exasperation, suddenly understanding why they were here. Closing his eyes, he said calmly, “After I untangle this, I’m washing your hair with shampoo and proper conditioner, got it?” He counted to ten and opened his eyes. Well, nothing to do but get started.
Carefully, he focused first on brushing the parts that weren’t tangled (or not as badly) to get a sense for the thickness of L’s hair and how tender-headed he was. Light knew that probably even a normal tug or the slightest discomfort might end this endeavor; he had to tread carefully. “This would be easier if you sat still and stopped fidgeting.” He placed a hand on L’s shoulder to try and keep him in one place, but quickly pulled back in case he’d overstepped.
L stiffened up slightly, biting his lower lip. However, instead of pulling away, he mumbled a quiet apology and did his best to keep his body still. He continued to fidget with his hands, rapping his fingers on his knees as he sat there, flinching occasionally when Light pulled too hard for his comfort. In truth, none of it was comfortable, but the man’s touch was surprisingly bearable. He wasn’t nearly as harsh as he had expected he would be, and it seemed as if he was adjusting to L’s reactions. “If you insist,” he mumbled, huffing quietly.
As Light got closer to the epicenter of the tangle, he started to sweat a little. Wait, is that--? Finally he had spotted the catalyst for the rat’s nest. A half-eaten lollipop was embedded and wrapped up in L’s hair, with the stick poking out at a jaunty and infuriating angle. “Ryuzaki…” He touched the stick, wiggling it slightly. “Did you happen to be eating lollipops in bed last night?”
A deep shade of red bloomed in L’s cheeks, travelling far enough to peek around his neck. “...no,” he mumbled, his tone incredibly sheepish as he blatantly lied. He couldn’t stop himself from squirming now, staring down at his hands as he shifted on the bed. He knew Light would be able to tell, but some small part of him felt embarrassed enough to try and hide it.
Light leaned to whisper in L’s ear, “Liar.” He gave the stick a little tweak. “The evidence speaks for itself, detective.” He laughed and shifted on the bed, reaching for a bottle of lotion in the nightstand. “This calls for desperate measures. That brush isn’t going to help at all,” he said, tossing it aside. “Not until I get that lollipop out.” With Sayu, he’d once used peanut butter to get some chewing gum out of her hair but really anything oily would do. He settled behind L again and squirted the lotion on his fingers, working it into the knots. “This might hurt a little but you don’t want to walk around with candy in your head do you?”
“It certainly sounds like a convenient carrying solution, freeing both of my hands to do work,” L muttered, his lips twitching faintly in amusement at his own joke. His breath hitched and he hissed quietly in pain as he felt his hair being tugged. “Ow...” He whined, his hand twitching briefly with the urge to reach back and swat at Light’s hand. “Be more gentle..!”
“Sorry,” Light mumbled. “Got a little too focused.” He slowed down his pace and methodically peeled away the hair from the sticky candy, nose wrinkling at the unappetizing gloops of lotion and red sugar coating his fingers. But, it was working! Bit by bit, knot by knot, the lollipop finally came free.
“Got it!,” he said triumphantly, holding up the mangled sucker. It was odd how satisfied he felt. Maybe it was because L only complained half a dozen instead of three dozen times, but he was all smiles as he showed it to L. “The accused stands before you. How do you judge?” He giggled and held it over the trash.
L was shaken and tense by the time Light was finally finished. It wasn’t that the man had hurt him- no, the process was quite painless after the first few tugs. However, he kept expecting pain, anticipating it, even though it never came. Once the man was done, he relaxed, staring at the candy. For once, he didn’t have the urge to shove the sweet into his mouth (although that may have been because of the hairs protruding from it).
“…guilty,” he mumbled, plucking it from Light’s fingers and dropping it into the trash can. He reached back to touch his hair, immediately grimacing at the unpleasant texture of melted candy and lotion mixed with hair. “…I suppose I’ll be needing my hair washed after all,” he muttered.
Light frowned a little that his joke had flopped, but what did he expect? “You’re welcome,” he grumbled as he got up off the bed to the length of the chain. “Come in the bathroom then and I’ll wash it in the sink. Need to wash my hands, too.” You don’t deserve my nice hair products but that’s all we’ve got. He’d be damned if he’d use liquid soap like L usually did. Just the thought made him shudder, rattling the handcuff chain between them.
L followed Light into the bathroom, shedding his shirt in the process to avoid it getting wet. He unclipped his end of the chain to remove the shirt completely, immediately latching the chain back on after. “How should I stand?” He stared at the sink in mild confusion, unsure of how to wash his hair in a non-shower setting.
“Over there,” Light gestured with his chin, “until I clean myself up.” He maneuvered around L and turned the water on with his elbow, scrubbing furiously until all the melted lollipop and lotion swirled down the drain. Why am I bothering to help him? I should have just left it there and taken the day off. I need one.
He dried his hands and grabbed his shampoo and conditioner that his mother had brought him from home, purchased from his favorite salon. The sleek bottles only reminded him of how much he needed a haircut, of how much he’d taken for granted all the little freedoms like that. The reflection looking back at him in the mirror-- bangs hanging in his eyes, wispy strands long enough to tuck behind his ears-- reinforced it. L may be a mess but so was he. The realization didn’t help his mood any.
He gave L a cold glance and pointed to the still-running warm water in the sink. “So...just stick your head under the faucet.”
L glanced back and forth from the sink to Light for a moment, as if unsure of what to do. He then moved closer to the sink, leaning down and hesitantly pushing his head under the water. He immediately jerked back when some ended up in his ear, an uncharacteristic squeak escaping his lips as his face scrunched up. He tilted his head, shaking it as if trying to get the water out. His hands rest on the sink, gripping it tightly to keep himself upright. Once he had calmed down, he took a deep breath and put his head under again, this time keeping it there as he closed his eyes.
Light crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg. If L couldn’t even stand the water, a molecule of soap in the man’s eyes would send him through the roof. “Hold on, I’ll get a chair and you can just lean back.” He went to do so but the chain tugged him back sharply. How many times will I forget? I’m anchored. “Um, can you release the chain for a moment? I’ll be right back.”
Much to his own surprise, L reached out without even hesitating, unclipping Light’s end of the chain. “Be quick. I think I can feel it hardening,” he murmured, grimacing as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wanted to cooperate, he truly did, and he could only hope that was coming through in his actions and words.
Light blinked as the chain thunked to the bathroom floor. He did it? He stared at the coiled chain like it was a dead but still dangerous snake before snapping to attention and heading into the bedroom. It had been over a month since he’d felt 360 degrees of freedom but he couldn’t enjoy it, even though he wheeled L’s office chair into the bathroom slower than necessary. He felt a little shaken that his first instinct had been to run, but why? What did he have to run from? I’m innocent…
“Sit here and lean back so your head’s in the sink.” He rolled up a fluffy towel and placed it on the edge of the counter. “That should make it more comfortable.” He added drily, “Don’t worry, I didn’t stuff any razors inside.” Not that I’m allowed any. A few months ago he’d been the top student at To-Oh and now he was playing hairdresser with a man who wanted to execute him.
L didn’t bother grabbing the chain again, wanting to give Light more space as a gesture of appreciation for what he was doing, since he couldn’t really find the words to verbalize that feeling. He nodded and sat down in the chair, leaning back and resting his neck on the towel. His face scrunched up slightly in discomfort as he tilted his head back, suddenly made very aware of how stiff his neck was.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I trust you.” Of course, that’s partly because it would be too big of a risk for him to try anything right now, but I also don’t think he’d want to…
Light arched a brow at that lie and squeezed shampoo into his hands. “Sure.” Trusts me when it’s convenient for him. He avoided looking at the chain, not wanting to remind L in case he forgot. I know he didn’t forget.
L’s face was as unreadable as ever so he just got on with it, lathering L’s hair into fragrant suds and taking care that no soap got into the man’s wide-open eyes. The smell of grapefruit and sandalwood in the bathroom started to make Light relax, the tenseness falling from his face. After a few minutes, he couldn’t feel any more sticky candy embedded in L’s hair and rinsed it clean. “Alright, sit still. Conditioner’s next.”
The feeling of Light’s fingers massaging his scalp was incredibly relaxing for L. He did his best to keep his face impassive, forcing himself to focus on the feeling of wetness on his forehead, but, eventually, even that wasn’t enough. By the time Light was rinsing his hair out, L’s eyelids were heavy and his expression incredibly relaxed. Most of the tension that was normally present in his body was gone. “This…feels nice,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he stayed still for the man.
Light couldn’t help but smile faintly at the praise. It was gratifying that he’d done well, even at this insignificant task, when it was for his harshest critic. His mood lifted considerably-- maybe this day wouldn’t be a wash after all. Wash, pft. He snickered to himself and turned the water off, then smoothed the conditioner in L’s hair to the ends.
Tilting his head, he said, “Your hair’s longer than I thought.” When wet and not fluffed up by frizz, it looked almost twice as long.
L’s body felt almost loose at this point, and part of him wondered if he would slide out of the chair. Even the feeling of Light barely pulling on his hair was soothing by now. A faint smile curved his lips as he closed his eyes. “That makes sense. It’s been a while since Watari last trimmed my hair. I’m not very fond of the sound of scissors so close to my head.”
“Now we wait. Five minutes and then rinse.” Light glanced down at his watch and leaned against the counter. This might be an awkward five minutes.
L shifted his legs, letting one stretch out and dangle off of the chair. “I didn’t expect that this would be so…pleasant. You’re very good at this, Light,” he mused, his relaxed state loosening his lips ever so slightly.
A little heat rose to Light’s cheeks. “Uh...thank you. I guess I have my sister to thank for that. I was her babysitter for years and her hair gets tangled easily, too.”
He smiled when a funny memory sprang to mind. “One time she managed to get a whole package of modeling clay stuck in her hair and I had to scrub for an hour to get it out before my parents got home from dinner. When my Mom noticed it was gone, Sayu told them she ate it.” He laughed to himself, remembering the horrified looks on his parents’ faces. “Of course, we fessed up before they called poison control.”
L’s lips twitched for a moment before he burst into laughter, holding his hand up in a failed attempt at covering his mouth. His laugh shook his entire body, a big grin forming on his face. When was the last time I laughed like this? Have I ever? I can’t recall feeling this good before now. “That- that’s quite impressive,” he managed to say after a few seconds, starting to calm back down and catch his breath. “What was she trying to do with the clay? Style her hair?” He chuckled, opening his eyes to look up at Light.
Seeing L smile was surprising but when the detective laughed, Light was shocked. But that laughter was infectious and only made Light giggle harder. “I think she was trying to make some kind of space helmet? Who knows, she was only five then,” he said between chuckles. I miss her. I wonder how she’s keeping up with her math homework. His laughter faded away.
He looked down at L, a thoughtful look on his face. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh and mean it.”
L’s expression softened, turning thoughtful and slightly sad. “Yes, I suppose it is. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.” He sighed, stretching out his arms for a moment as he averted his gaze. “I guess that’s just something else you’re good at, hm?” He arched a brow, smirking a bit in the subtle, mocking way he usually did. However, there was no malice to his tone. Instead of attacking Light, it seemed like he was attempting some good-natured ribbing, as if between friends.
Light blinked and gave L a puzzled smile, waiting for the barb to come. Unexpectedly, it didn’t, and he wasn’t sure what to say. L being nice was as strange as L laughing.
He glanced down at his watch anxiously. “That’s five minutes.” He turned on the warm water and rinsed the conditioner from L’s noticeably softer hair. Any residual tangles came loose immediately when he combed his fingers through it and he started to get curious about how it would look when dry. “Alright,” he said, turning off the water. “All done. Your tangles are a thing of the past.”
He turned his back to L to dry his hands on a fresh towel. “I guess it seems like a waste of time to use the conditioner but it saves time in the end for brushing. I can give Watari the information if you want me to.”
L shifted in the seat, looking over at Light with a contemplative expression. He sat there in silence for a few seconds, just staring at the other man until he finally spoke. “I suppose you can. That would be nice. But also, while we’re sharing a living space…if you wanted to- ah- do this more frequently…I wouldn’t protest.” He averted his gaze and cleared his throat loudly.
“Wouldn’t protest?” Light turned around sharply, feeling annoyed at L’s assumption. The words ‘I’m not your servant!,’ hovered on his parted lips but died there when, somehow, he saw L clearly. The man was too proud to ask directly for what he wanted. They had managed to connect in a way that wasn’t only detective and suspect, jailer and prisoner. Light had felt it, too, and he craved kindness after his long isolation, this ongoing tense situation.
He watched L for a moment and quietly said, “Alright, but no cuffs when I do it.” He smirked and added, “And no more lollipops in bed.”
“I agree to the cuffs, but I can’t make any promises about the lollipops,” L joked, smiling as he sat up and pulled the towel over his head. He picked up the chain, staring at it for a second or two before clasping it onto Light’s cuff. However, instead of immediately pulling away, his hand lingered on the man’s wrist. “…thank you, Light,” he mumbled, the sound barely a whisper as he lowered his gaze and pulled his hand away, standing up straight.
Light grinned and tossed L a towel since the man was dripping water everywhere. So it didn’t kill you to say it after all.
“You’re welcome.”
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fridayfirefly ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Hardcore Hide-and-Seek
Read Hardcore Hide-and-Seek on AO3
Masterlist
Written for Maribat March Day 27 - Contest
There was a dull ache behind his temples that just wouldn't go away. The harsh, bright lights of his computer screen and the fact that he hadn't slept in almost 36 hours combined to give Tim a headache so powerful he could barely think.
"Sweetheart. Honeybunch. Cupcake. Darling." Marinette poked him in the shoulder after each pet name. "You need to go to bed now before you pass out on the keyboard." She gently pulled on his arm, guiding him away from the computer.
"Not yet. Give me... two more hours."
"No way. You need to sleep."
"I just need to finish this one program to search and identify every pedestrian walking by all five of Jason's safehouses, get it up and running, and check it for bugs. Then I can go to sleep."
Marinette groaned. "Nine hours, that's all I'm asking."
"You know how much can be done in nine hours? In nine hours Damian will have checked half of The Bowery, Cass and Steph will have combed through all of Crime Alley, and Dick and Babs will have hacked their way into every street-facing camera in Gotham."
"First of all, you're not going to find Jason if you're too tired to think straight. Second, finding Jason first means nothing if you're too tired to catch him." Marinette rolled her eyes. "Third, I think this whole contest is ridiculous. I swear, you Bats play the weirdest games."
"It isn't weird. It's good practice for our tracking abilities," protested Tim.
"It's extreme hide-and-seek tag, that's what it is. Now get to bed. If you get nine hours of sleep tonight, I'll help you catch Jason tomorrow morning."
"Fine." Tim cast one last longing look at the computer before Marinette pulled him out of the Batcave.
----------
The light of morning woke Tim up, reminding him that he had been too tired the night before to set an alarm. "What time is it?"
"It's nine in the morning. You were right that Cass and Steph searched through Crime Alley. They checked all three of Jason's safehouses but found nothing. Damian got sidetracked by an armed robbery while searching through The Bowery and was barely able to check a few blocks. Dick and Babs got access to the traffic camera and the video of two different security companies, but they weren't able to get any of your facial recognition programs to run on any of the feeds."
"Wait, what?" asked Tim, still not fully awake.
"I was serious about helping you. I don't do anything halfway," said Marinette.
Tim sat up, "That's great! Our odds of winning triple when we team up. What were you saying about Babs and Dick?"
"They can't get your facial recognition program to run."
"That's because I tweaked some of the code right at the end to require a confirmation from my laptop. That way if any of my codes fall into the wrong hands, I'll know." Tim grabbed his laptop off of his desk and opened it. A pop-up appeared in the corner of the screen.
[user: Babs requests access for FACIAL RECOGNITION]
There were three options underneath: YES, NO, and IMITATION RUN. Tim clicked the third.
"What does imitation run do?" asked Marinette.
"It will go through to all of the video feeds, but it won't actually flag anything. It will just run passively. Dick and Babs, however, won't know that."
"Clever. That should set Dick and Babs back. Now how are we going to find Jason?"
"Jason knows that we have programs to monitor anywhere where there are security cameras. That means he'll be staying away from traffic cameras. He's lying low - probably in a safehouse."
"Cass and Steph checked all three of the safehouses in Crime Alley," objected Marinette.
Tim shook his head. "Jason has more than three safehouses in Crime Alley. Those three are just the ones we know about."
"How are we going to find these safehouses?" asked Marinette. "If there's one thing Jason's good at, it's disappearing."
"That's the problem. Jason only has to last three more days before he wins. It's entirely possible for him to just hole up in his safehouse and never leave."
"On the other hand, that means that we've got him cornered once we figure out the location of his safehouse."
Tim nodded. "Let's get searching."
The problem with finding a safehouse is that there isn't much to do once a person is successfully hidden inside. It's impossible to search every single building in all of Crime Alley (though Steph and Cass together were giving a remarkably good effort of scouring for signs of Jason), so Tim and Marinette took a different approach.
"I designed the burner phones that all of the Bats use in our safehouses, which is how I know for certain that there are no trackers in them. However, if I send out a system update, they all update automatically. When the update is installed, it will send back a confirmation to the main servers. I can trace that message back to figure out the location of all of the burner phones."
"How long will that take?"
"Half an hour to get everything ready to send out a system update. Fifteen minutes after that before all the phones are updated and send their confirmation messages. From there we can start checking safehouses."
Marinette grinned. "See, I told you that you would think better with a full night of sleep."
"You were right," Tim admitted.
"You start the system update, I'm going to make breakfast."
Marinette left the bedroom and Tim wondered how he got so lucky as to have her with him.
----------
After collecting the locations of all the safehouse burner phones and cross-checking the results with the list of known safehouses, there were five unconfirmed safehouses left.
"Two in Crime Alley, two in The Bowery, and one in East End," reported Tim.
"Let's hit East End first, then move onto The Bowery, and end in Crime Alley," Marinette formulated the plan over a plate of pancakes. "What are the official rules to this game, anyway?"
"Jason got twelve hours to hide. Then we get five days to track him down and tag him. The winner gets to drive the Batmobile anytime Bruce isn't in town for the next six months."
Marinette playfully rolled her eyes. "Of course the prize is driving the Batmobile." Getting up from her finished breakfast, Marinette started putting on her coat and shoes. "Come on, Tim, let's go win you Batmobile privileges."
The apartment in East End was empty, save a few rats that scurried across the hallway of the apartment. Marinette wrinkled her nose and she peered out the grimy window. "Who's safehouse do you think this was?"
Tim fished a half-empty carton of cigarettes out of a drawer in the kitchen. "Jason's, probably, but given the amount of dust in here, I don't think he's been here for a while."
The brick house in The Bowery was a little cleaner but still abandoned. The little front yard was half dirt and half weeds. Pinned up on a bulletin board in the front hallway was an empty postcard decorated with the logo for Haly's Circus. Tim concluded that it was Dick's safehouse and they moved onto the next safehouse. It was in an apartment complex in Crown Point, the seediest district of The Bowery. It was stocked with knives, guns, and a box of neatly labeled poisons.
"Damian's safehouse?" guessed Marinette. "He's the only one I could see having poison kept on hand."
Tim nodded, "Probably."
The second-to-last safehouse was on the border between The Bowery and Crime Alley. It was small and run-down, but it seemed that at one point it had been well-maintained. The mailbox was hand-painted yellow, with blue letters reading: The Brown's.
"Stephanie's old house," said Tim, realization.
"Sentimental choice for a safehouse," noted Marinette.
It felt wrong to enter the house that Steph grew up in, so they moved on from it. There was no way Jason was inside, not when Steph and Babs had already search the known safehouses in Crime Alley.
Tim sighed as they drove to the last location. "We've only got one safehouse left to check. I'm not sure what we'll do if Jason isn't in it." Tim had forgotten to consider that Jason might have gotten a burner phone from somewhere else, other than the supply cupboard in the Batcave.
"If he isn't there then we'll go back to the drawing board, I suppose. But don't lose hope yet. I have a good feeling about this one," Marinette reasoned.
The final safe house was a nondescript apartment building: brown brick exterior, cigarette butts on the sidewalk, and grimy windows.
"Do you think this is it?" asked Marinette.
Tim shrugged. "We'll just have to find out."
There were eight apartments in the building, four on the first floor and four on the second. Tim and Marinette quickly swept the first floor, but none of the apartments were Jason's. They then moved to the second floor. Tim quickly picked up on a dusty footprint on the carpet. He recognized the tread-marks from the bottoms of Jason's shoes. "Second door on the left," whispered Tim. "You head outside and make sure he doesn't escape through the windows."
"I'll let you tag him," Marinette whispered in response, slipping down the stairs.
Tim waited a full minute for Marinette to get into position, then crept up to the door. Taking a deep breath, Tim waited for the moment to feel right. Then another breath. Bang!
Tim broke through the door, revealing Jason sitting on the bed, scrolling on his phone.
Jason swore and reached for the gun on the bedside table, but he didn't get a chance to fully react before Tim tagged him out.
"Goddammit!" Jason threw the gun on the bed in frustration. "How did you find me?"
"Burner phone," chimed in Marinette as she popped through the window.
"You said they didn't contain trackers," Jason accused.
"They don't. But when I issued a system update, they all sent a confirmation which I was able to track," Tim said smugly, trying not to gloat too hard.
Jason whipped open a drawer in the cramped kitchen and pulled out the burner phone, tossing it to Tim. "Next time, I'm picking out my own burner phone."
"If it wasn't the phone, we'd have found something else. Admit it, we were good," said Marinette.
Jason rolled his eyes. "Good job, Replacement. You too, Pixie Pop."
"See you at home," Marinette chirped. "Now that this silly contest is over, I have Tim to myself for the next two days. No more sharing his with his computer."
Tim smiled at the thought of finally spending time with Marinette. "Let's go."
"I thought you'd never ask."
@maribatmarch-2k21
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clairenatural ¡ 4 years ago
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destiel, 2k. mafia!Cas/Kingergarten teacher!Dean from an anon prompt for mafia!dean or Cas protecting the other at all costs. I’m not entirely sure what this turned into but it was fun to write so I hope it’s also fun to read :) it references stuff that happens in 12x10, Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets.
“Sir, we have a problem.”
Castiel sighs. His five least favorite words. He glances up, frowning at Inias. “What kind of problem?” He doesn’t add that it had better be important to justify the younger man barging into his office like this, but it’s implied.
Inias takes a deep breath before stepping fully into the room, letting Castiel’s glass office door shut behind him. “The DA’s office is refusing to back down on the Ishim case.”
“And you paid them the standard amount?”
“Yes, sir. But one of the DDAs refused it.”
“Refused it.”
“He’s new. He doesn’t understand our arrangement.”
“Hm.” Castiel closes his laptop and leans back in his chair, considering both the situation and the man in front of him. They hadn’t had a problem with the DA in years—at least, not since Castiel had taken over. Their messes were less messy and they paid more generously for silence. “How much does he need to understand?”
“That’s the problem, sir. I don’t think he will.”
Castiel scoffs. “Anyone in power can be bought off,” he replies, because in all his years he’d never met someone who couldn’t be. Power corrupts, after all.
Inias shifts uneasily, and Castiel can tell he isn’t going to like how this ends.
“We’ve received word that he’s begun investigating independently.”
Castiel groans at this, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“But don’t worry!” Inias continues quickly, hurridly. “We can put our best men on the assignment, have him taken care of by tonight—”
“Wait,” Castiel cuts him off with a sigh. He forces his eyes back open. “I’m not mad,” he says before anything else, because Inias looks like a deer in the headlights and even after all this time his employees still need occasional reminding that he is not his brothers.
When he’d taken over for Michael he’d promised himself—he’d promised everyone—less bloodshed. He swore to defend his family, business, and territory from Crowley and his cronies, but he’d been determined to stop ending innocent lives. For some reason, though, innocents just love getting in the way. He sighs again. “What’s his name?”
“Sam Winchester.”
And, well. That certainly complicates things. He’d known when Sam announced he was going into criminal law that this was a possibility—in some ways, he thinks he should have expected this.
“Sir?” Inias asks, and Castiel realizes he doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at him. “Are you…do you know him?”
Castiel blinks back to reality and glares at him. “Call them off,” he orders, and cuts Inias off when he tries to protest. “Call them all off, Inias. Now.”
“But, sir, what about—”
“I’ll deal with Sam Winchester myself. Nobody else is to touch him.” Then, just for emphasis, “Until I say otherwise, consider him under my protection.”
Inias is still staring at him, baffled, but after a moment he nods, and Castiel is thankful that he’s decided not to argue. “Alright, I—yes. Understood.” He nods again before leaving the office and Castiel sinks deep into his chair, pressing the heels of his hands into both eyes.
His phone buzzes and Castiel watches as a text message lights up the screen, revealing the photo from his wedding he has set as his background. It’s a message from Dean, because of course it is, asking him what he wants for dinner and if he wants wine with it.
Castiel looks around his office, awarded to him based on his surname but paid for in blood, and he’s never hated it more.  
————————————————————-
They get half an hour into the low-budget western Dean had insisted in watching before his husband sighs, pauses the movie, and sets his wine glass down on the coffee table.  “What’s going on with you?”
Castiel frowns up at him from where he’s lying on the couch, cheek against Dean’s thigh, his own wine glass barely touched. All things considered, Castiel thinks he’s been doing a great job acting like everything is fine. He forgets, sometimes, how easily Dean can read him.
“Work was…long,” he answers, and it isn’t a lie. Then, because Dean is looking at him like he doesn’t believe him, he follows up with “How’s Sam?”
It’s both a deflection and an answer to Dean’s question, but Dean doesn’t know that. Dean thinks he manages a hedge fund. Which he does. Technically. Legally, at least.
Dean knows he’s changing the subject but he doesn’t press it, and his face lights up the way it always does when someone asks about his brother. Castiel loves him for it. Dean starts on about Sam, how he’s doing with Eileen, how they just moved into a bigger house because they want to start a family. Castiel isn’t paying attention, not really, because Dean’s fingers are playing with his hair and he doesn’t really want to think about anything else.
“—I said I’d help him out, though.”
That catches his attention. “What? Why?” he asks, a bit too quickly, because even though he’s missed most of the context he can’t help the sinking feeling in his stomach.
Dean raises an eyebrow. “Come on, babe. I never get to use my degree anymore.” He shrugs. “And it sounds fun, you know? Helping my baby brother take down a corrupt criminal justice system. I feel like Serpico.”
“No.” It comes out more forcefully than he had intended and he sits up, turning fully to face Dean. “No, Dean, you need to stay out of it.”
Dean blinks at his husband, and Castiel immediately backtracks. “I mean, um. You don’t—you don’t have any evidence.”
“That’s the point of me helping,” Dean rolls his eyes. “I know I chose teaching five-year-olds over working in cybersecurity, but I still know my way around.”
“You’re going to hack into the DA’s office?”
“It sounds bad when you put it like that.”
“It is bad.” Castiel knows he’s being too insistent, is pushing too hard, but Dean can’t get involved, too. He can’t. “It’s dangerous. You don’t know who else could be involved.”
“I don’t care about that.”
“You should. You just don’t understand—”
“Understand what, Cas?” Dean snaps, and now it’s the fight Castiel didn’t want to have. “What could I possibly not understand that you do? A kid is dead and the DA is trying to cover it up and just maybe I can help figure out why.”
“There are things you don’t—” Castiel is already halfway through his next argument when the second half of Dean’s sentence catches up with him, and he stops. “Did you say a kid?”
Dean scoffs. “You weren’t even listening, right? Great. Yeah, some asshole killed his ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend and her kid and the DA is refusing to press charges. Says there isn’t enough evidence. Sam thinks they were paid off.”
“No,” he says, quietly, because no. The daughter was never supposed to—that’s not what happened. He had been told that’s not what happened.
“What do you mean, no?” There’s less heat in Dean’s words, and Castiel thinks it’s because he himself has completely deflated.
He stares at his husband—the love of his life, the beautiful, generous, selfless man he doesn’t deserve—and realizes he’s never going to be able to talk Dean down from this. If he could, he wouldn’t be Dean.
He thinks about all he’s done to keep this part of his life safely tucked away. He cultivated a reclusive public image to keep Dean safe from being the husband of Castiel Novak, manager of the Novak Group. He expanded their territory to encompass the school Dean works at, something his family still holds against him as a waste of resources, to protect him from being the husband of Castiel Novak, leader of the crime syndacate. He’s hidden his marriage from nearly the entire family, labeling anything to do with Dean as the most privileged of information.
The only reason he’s still doing this at all, really, is Dean. He could have jumped ship when Michael died, when Gabriel left, when Lucifer took the fall and was sentenced to life, but that meant giving everything to Raphael, who promised to hunt both him and Dean down if he left. So he took the reins instead and he’s tried his best to keep his family safe while managing the business—both the above and underground aspects.
And now, despite all that, both Dean and his brother have somehow gotten themselves involved.
Dean is still staring at him, brows furrowed, and he doesn’t move away when Castiel reaches out to take both of his hands into his own. “I’m sorry,” he starts, and Dean looks taken aback but he doesn’t break the eye contact. “I love you. I don’t want you to end up in trouble.”
Something in Dean’s eyes softens. “Hey,” He squeezes Castiel’s hands lightly. “Come on. Have a little faith in me.”
And all Castiel can do, just like any time Dean looks at him like that, is smile back. And nod. And lean forward to kiss him, just once, softly.
“I do, Dean. I always do.”
Dean leans their foreheads together and Castiel can tell he’s still concerned, but he doesn’t want there to be any more yelling tonight, so instead he pulls back to lie down in Dean’s lap again. He hears Dean sigh before picking up the remote with the hand not still intertwined with Castiel’s, and then he restarts the movie, and Castiel tries not to think for the rest of the night.
 ————————————————————-
The next morning, though, he’s storming into his office, ready to lay into anyone involved with lying to him. He doesn’t get far—Naomi is sitting in his chair. At his desk. For a brief moment, he sees red.
“That’s my chair.”
His aunt regards him, cool as ever. “Is it?” she asks, and she stands, but only to walk around the desk and into his space. “And who gave it to you?” In her heels she’s taller than him but he glares anyway, refusing to be intimidated. He doesn’t respond.
“Why are you protecting Sam Winchester?” she asks after a moment of silence, still standing just as close.
“Why did you lie to me about the incident with Ishim?”
Naomi’s expression doesn’t change, but something close to surprise flickers across her eyes and she backs off to lean against his desk. “I suspect the answer to both of those questions is the same.”
“May Sunder was never supposed to die,” he presses, not backing down, and Naomi looks at him as if he’s being an unruly child.
“Yes, but her mother threatened to go to the police. Come now, Castiel, you’re old enough to understand these things.”
“I never authorized that.”
Naomi stands again. “You think you have to?”
This, of all things, catches him off-guard. “I—yes?”
His aunt steps forward, crowding him again, and he hates himself for taking a step back. “You’re a figurehead, Castiel. You’re in power because you’re Michael’s brother, people like you, and we thought you’d at least be loyal.”
“I am loyal,” he retorts, and she sighs.
“I’m not the only one who’s begun to question your sympathies, Castiel. Who are you loyal to?”
“My family.”
“Does that mean us? Or Dean Winchester?”
Castiel freezes, stunned. “How—”
Naomi cuts him off with a smile. “You think we don’t know? We’ve been letting you play house because it kept you distracted. Now, it seems, it’s making you weak. If you don’t fix this, I’ll have no choice but to cure you of that weakness.”
At last she steps away and turns towards the door. “You have an army here, Castiel. Don’t lose it for one man.”
And then she leaves.
And then, Castiel makes a decision.
In the next few hours, he makes several more—and then he’s driving home with all his family’s secrets copied onto a hard drive, the few items from his office that he actually cares about, and a plan forming on how to take the whole system down.
It’s almost funny, he thinks, the decision Naomi expected him to make—that she’d expected him to choose the family over Dean. That she’d expected him to choose anything over Dean.
She has no idea what’s coming. 
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sebastianshaw ¡ 3 years ago
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Shaw pisses off a witch and gets turned into a rat. He still has his mutation but he's now stuck as a rat. In order to run the Hellfire he must Ratatouille someone.......
This was not the first time that Shaw had woken up as some kind of animal after a party with Sersi. The fact he kept attending said parties was a testament to the talent of the hostess, but he really wished that she would stick around AFTERWARDS to undue such undo damage!  As ever, however, Shaw had to do everything HIMSELF around here. With a tiny huff, he extricated himself from the couch cushions, jumped from the considerable height of the aforementioned couch, located his trousers, nosed his way into the pocket, and pulled out the cellular phone---so convenient!---using his teeth. One it had been withdraw, he was now faced with the issue of unlocking it. Fingerprint, face recognition, and passcodes were all too paltry security for the likes of him; his phone scanned not his skin, but his very DNA and thought patterns.  Which, in fact, despite his altered shape, still matched him. Let in by the device, he was able to tap with his little hands to make the call. Sersi’s voicemail picked up. Ugh, of course. He left her a VERY curt message. . .and realized only after he’d done so that it had been entirely composed of enraged squeaks. For Sebastian Hiram Shaw, you see, was currently in the form of a rat. A large specimen of the Rattus norvegicus, to be exact.  And he had work today. Not at Shaw Industries, which he could manage from his laptop, but the Hellfire Club. And that required his physical presence----something that would NOT be accepted in his current state.  Not fancying finding out if his mutant powers remained by testing them against brooms, clubs, and objects thrown by staff should he set paw there, Shaw’s keen mind began to think of a plan.  And then Donald Pierce walked in to gloat. * * * For the next week, Sebastian Shaw was nowhere to be seen, and yet both the Shaw Industries and the Manhattan Branch of the Hellfire Club ran smoothly. While there had been times before that the Black King had retreated physically to the shadows while continuing to oversee his domains from a safe distance, so no one thought much of it besides wondering what the latest threat was that he was concealing himself from.  Meanwhile, Donald Pierce had taken the remote approach with the Reavers and Purifiers as well, not abandoning them but merely sending them on missions quite far away.  Thus, it was by himself that he infiltrated the Hellfire Club’s party tonight. His knowledge of the security and how to shut it down from inside clearly showing that he must have hacked it. That must be what he was doing all this week, holed up away while his cyborg soldiers sowed hate elsewhere.  But there was no programming that could prepare him for. . . “SERSI!” he cried out accusingly as he burst through the ceiling. As the other guests scattered in fear, the emerald-clad woman merely gazed at him in bored appraisal.  “Sebastian’s going to charge you so much for that, you’ll have to sell off all your body parts just to pay off half, you know,” she said, “Really, it just might be a mercy right now if I turned out into an armadillo. Though then he’d probably sell you as a purse. In fact, maybe THAT’S what I’ll--” “I’m not here to fight!” he proclaimed, sounding desperate, and at that she raised a well-shaped eyebrow, as if to say that now she was listening. He continued, “You need to come with me. I don’t want anyone else to see this.” “An obvious trap if there ever was one,” Sersi dismissed,  “But since whatever you have up your mechanical sleeve can’t possibly best me, I’ll entertain it---just because I want to see what you’re going to try. It might be even more amusing than some of the outfits tonight. Although it would be hard to beat that absolute mess from Valentino that the Madripoorian diplomat was wearing tonight for sheer--” “IF YOU PLEASE, MADAM!” Pierce bellowed.  Sersi, as one might imagine, looked QUITE offended. “Well! If you can’t be patient enough for my presence, you don’t deserve it! Forget your little ---AAAIEEE!!” Pierce had just grabbed one of the spilled platters of canapes and, with a brief look of
deep regret at the waste of such fine food, hurled it at her. . . and her custom designer gown. The fact that Sersi could, of course, simply reshape the atoms to be clean again, was immaterial. His crime was unforgivable, his fate seemingly sealed. He did the only sensible thing. . .and ran. Sersi quite literally flew after him, hurling energy blasts that threatened to reduce him to so much molten scrap if he was so much as grazed by their heat. At last, he led her to a private chamber, and turned to face her. . .  And lifted his hat. “Sersi!” his mouth said, “It’s me, Sebastian! I’m the rat!” For, under the hat, pulling at the very stringy strings of Pierce’s blond hair, was a large rat, sporting large sideburns. And Sersi remembered, come to think of it. . .  “Oh, that’s right, I did do that last week, didn’t I?” she said, tapping the side of her cheek, momentarily defused.  “I suppose you want to be turned back.” “Indeed!” Pierce’s mouth barked as the rat yanked his hair accordingly. “I must ask first, however are you puppeteering this poor fellow?” “A fluke, really,” Shaw explained via the puppet in question, “It seems when he was connecting all his mechanical limbs to his brain so that they would respond to his mental signals just as a natural body part does, his hair got included. Thus, his body responds to it as it would to a command from the brain. He never realized til I took hold of it by chance; quite serendipitous, really. I’ve managed to run my company and the Club through him online, with no one any the wiser, including his own little cults. I just shut him down when I have to sleep. Really, it’s quite easy. Getting you back at a party in such a short time, that was the Herculean task!” “I know Hercules, that’s really NOT much of testament to something be difficult,” Sersi casually reshaped her opera gloves into fingerless ones and examined her purple nails, “And you KNOW I have very a busy social calendar. You should be grateful you were able to get me again this century!” “Well, since you’re here, I’d be even more grateful if you could spare a moment to---OH!” Shaw hadn’t even finished his sentence before he was restored to his former shape. . .absolutely naked and sitting on a now-collapsed Pierce.  Sersi stepped towards him, looming down, her red-hot ire from earlier returned now in an icy and even more terrifying form, “Now, Sebastian, about my dress. .  .” Shaw suddenly wondered if maybe he should have just stayed a rat for life.
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prompt-master ¡ 4 years ago
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Bear Trap (Part 1/3)
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Request fill for @hibiscuswolverine and art done by @doodles-by-noodles
The world was starting to heal.
Little by little, everyone who survived Hope's Peak Academy's killing game was bringing about change to the world. It had only just started, and they likely wouldn't live to see their vision fully realized, but there was hope. Hope the world hadn't seen since the tragedy broke out in the first place.
Yep, Naegi Makoto had a lot of work to do, but he also already had so much to be proud of. He and the survivors had already proven themselves to adapt to a world that was nothing like the one they left behind. They had been given a warning from Enoshima Junko herself, but even with the knowledge of killer robots and rampaging despair-induced rioters nothing could really prepare them for life on the outside.
Honestly, they had never expected to make it to where they were right now. Proud members of the Future Foundation, able to work together with the higher ups to take down the biggest threats against the world's progression. It felt like just yesterday they were sleeping in the rubble of what once were apartments, tightly packed together in case anything were to break in. And now Makoto stood proud and tall, going over his next mission on video call with a member of one of the higher divisions.
"I suppose I shouldn't be terribly surprised that the Ultimate Hope would be so adamant on these matters."
Makoto smiled, still as strong and inspiring as it had been back in the killing game, "Really, you don't have to call me that. I'm nothing special, just Naegi is fine."
She completely ignored him, looking over the notes he'd sent to her one last time. He and Aoi had accidentally discovered a distress call from a group of survivors in an unsafe area. There was no way he could ignore something like that, he wouldn't ignore any possibility that someone was suffering like his class did. Even if there was an equal possibility that it was a trap.
"Well, your plan asks for Ultimate Detective Kirigiri Kyoko and Ultimate Affluent Progeny Togami Byakuya to go with you. With those two, plus the Ultimate Hope, equipped with hacking guns then I see no reason to be concerned for any mishaps. Your mission is approved."
Makoto's smile widened at that, feeling a rush of pride and hope at her words, "We won't let you down! Promise!"
She didn't even look up at him, simply humming to let him know she heard. But he could tell, there was a slight smile on her face. Makoto managed to melt his fair share of hearts even if he couldn't explain how. The call blinked off, and Makoto shut his laptop gently, but with no regard to what it was running.
He let out a loud sigh, slouching back into his chair. Any and all office calls felt so nerve wracking. Each one held its own weight in importance. Every exchange oversaw the future. He pulled his arms over his head, stretching them as far as they could go.
He could already feel himself getting pumped up. A small, prideful smirk snuck it's way onto his face. The plan wasn't anything extreme, but he knew with his friends by his side it would all be ok. They were meant to go together in a group so that they could protect themselves in the event of a trap or other unforeseen circumstances. The distress call came from a fallen city mostly blocked off by a collapsed building. They would drop off inside the city's bounds, and continue on foot to find any survivors they could. They knew there would be some despaired within, but that was a given anywhere they went now.
It would all be worth it to save them.
Now he just had to tell Byakuya and Kyoko the good news
It was clear to anyone near the survivors that Byakuya, Kyoko, and Makoto were a force to be reckoned with. While the general public has no qualms with calling Makoto the leader of the group, it was more so all three of them were coleading. Each taking charge in their own way, from the start of their new lives to now. The three of them were all incredibly smart in their own ways and their combined skills lead to a team that could likely conquer any despair they faced. But it took an even closer eye to see the emotional connection the three shared with each other. 
Makoto walked in front, leading since he had heard the distress call in the first place. It was certainly an interesting relationship that the three had. Although Makoto certainly didn't see himself as the leading type it seemed that Byakuya and Kyoko both trusted his guidance entirely. And he did the same for them. There was no way to describe the significance that lay underneath the floorboards of their bond. For the two most emotionally shut off of the survivors to so openly trust him? To Makoto that was enough to lay their hearts out in the open for him to see. And not to mention…
Makoto glanced back at the two. Byakuya was messing around with his hacking gun, glasses slipping down his nose, and hair nearly hiding his eyes from Makoto's view. Kyoko was taking in her surroundings, trying to figure out sooner rather than later if this whole thing was just a trap as suspected. Her eyes may be void of emotion but the color and warmth was vast. Makoto faced forward again, his face feeling just a bit hot. 
They were both really pretty. 
No, no he can't focus on his silly crushes. Yes, crushes plural. Because Makoto's sensitive heart was so big he managed to give it away to two different people. That didn't matter right now though, because the focus was on the mission. 
The town was about as decimated as it looked from the outside. It reminded him of his first experiences out in the new world, making him wonder how many survivors might be hiding under rubble, scared to come out. So far they hadn't run into any sort of trouble. No robots, no despaired, no survivors. There was really...nothing here. It was starting to look more and more like a trap. 
Makoto stopped walking at a split path, "The call said to find the convenience store but...I can't tell where to go since everything's been destroyed." 
Byakuya came to stand by his side, "Not that it should matter much all things considered. Let's just get this over with so we can clear out those insane idiots and rebuild this place already." 
"Togami-kun!" Makoto pouted, Byakuya may have softened up but he still had a habit of harsh thinking first, "don't say that. I'm sure there has to be someone here who needs saving. There's people who need to be rescued everywhere we go!" 
"Indeed" Kyoko chimed in, "but it's not a bad line of thought. If we stage a rebuilding operation here then that increases our chances of finding survivors then if only a search team walked around." 
Byakuya smirked, pushing up his glasses in that annoyingly arrogant way of his, "And to do that, we need to weed out the problems first no?" 
"Yes...yes we do." 
"Besides what would you rather do? Try to talk to the despaired? And get clubbed again?" 
"It was one time, Togami-kun!" 
Byakuya laughed, placing his hands on his hips as he looked around, "Come now, this way. All these buildings are too destroyed to make any sort of distinctions regardless. And by your sentimental logic we should be checking more than just the given location, wouldn't you agree." 
Byakuya didn't wait for an answer, he walked ahead to begin searching the first building to their left. Makoto had to break into a light jog to catch up to him; damn your long legs Togami! 
That marked the start of their exploration, building after building. They found nothing. Not to mention everywhere seemed like it has been residential, no sign of the store they were told the survivors were. Even Makoto felt like something was a little bit off but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Regardless he kept up hope, he had heard those survivors speak with complete clarity in their voice. They had to be here. He wouldn't give up over a simple bad feeling. 
Byakuya stepped over broken glass, moving further into the crumpled home he was currently inspecting. A surprisingly intact kitchenette caught his eye, and decided a thorough search was necessary without telling his company. Although they didn't need much prompting to understand when he went off trail again. Kyoko thought if he was going to focus on possible material goods stored away in this forgotten piece of life, then she could at least see if there was any current piece of life hiding away as well. Makoto stood at the door of the house. He'd given nothing more than a glance to Byakuya before turning toward the outdoors again. Looking for anything. Any sign of life lurking under the foreboding red sky. 
Nothing. 
He sighed, turning his attention down to what used to be a grass area. Not much was left of that, in fact it looked almost like any plant life besides the weeds in the street cracks were...set on fire. The ground had this grey ashy feeling to it. And when Makoto scuffed it with his shoe….yeah, that was definitely the remains of something burning. That was a good sign right? It meant that someone was alive. This couldn't have been that long ago. 
Makoto opened his mouth to call for his friends, when a cold hand slapped over his mouth and forcefully tugged him backwards. 
Huh
Huh?!
Makoto was immediately kicking and yelling. He bucked like a disturbed wild animal, trying everything he could to get out. Wiggling, kneeing, elbowing, even trying to bite the hand over his mouth but none disturbed the individual. The house was getting farther and farther away but his voice was too muffled to ever reach it. There was heavy breathing in his ear, the air wet and warm against his skin in a way that made his body shudder. He forced himself to look up at his kidnapper. An individual with a wide smile on their face and eyes that spoke of a spiraling psyche. Everything about them...from their expression to their actions to their lack of reaction to pain...it all said despair. 
Eventually Makoto was dragged into the street and thrown down like a slab of meat. Makoto was about to scream again for help, when a hand quickly reached out for him. He couldn't help but flinch back, shoulders bunching up in an attempt to shrink away. His tie was yanked off, the force pulling his body upwards. When the tie snapped off he fell back again, he could feel rocks digging into his skin from the fall. Then his hands were tied behind his back. This was bad. This was so bad. Bad didn't even BEGIN to cover it. 
His captor came uncomfortably close, having lost all concept of personal space in the madness the end of the world has provided. Makoto tried his best to keep calm as they placed their arms to either side of him so that they were above, staring down below. There was a tense moment where neither moved, they simply tried to catch their breaths so that the silence would stop being filled with panting. It felt like a test. Like they were waiting for him to even dare to try to escape. They wanted to show Makoto what happened when he disobeyed! He could see it in their eyes! In the manicale look, in the smile that kept opening and closing like a strange gutted fish. The way their arms trembled and shook by Makoto's head, just waiting with the high of excitement.
Arms still shaking, mouth overflowing with spittle and pupils pinprick sharp, they began to slowly lower themselves. Makoto held his breath, willing his body to sink further into the concrete. His heels scraped against the ground, but he willed himself not to move in fear that any sign of escape would reward him with a slit throat. Their noses pressed against each other. The captor let out a shaky relieved sigh, as if the contact was the greatest thing they'd felt in a long time. Their eyelids fell half lidded, their smirk from excited to downright sadistic.
"I've got you now, Mr. Ultimate Hope."
Stay calm. You've dealt with this kind of person before. 
Makoto's nails gave a tug as he ran them against the concrete in an attempt to ground himself, dirt filling the space between skin and keratin. His heart hammered in his chest as if he were a scared rabbit, but there was no time to panic here. His life depended on it.  The despaired were completely delusional...which meant..
Makoto felt a laugh rise out of him, nervous and high in pitch.  A bit too high in pitch. He scraped the ground again, enough so that it began to hurt from the force. Calm down. Stay fucking calm. 
"Heh...heheh! Yeah! You got me..!" A smile graced his face, "what did you...get me for?" 
They pulled back, but not enough so that the pungent smell of smoke and ash left Makoto's nose. Their head tilted, daring to make an innocent face, "You know who you are, right?" 
"I do. And who are you?" 
Their body moved back and forth as they laughed with everything they had, their knees closing in so that Makoto could feel it against his leg. "Me? Me? Mememe?? Forget that! You're the Ultimate Hope!"
"That's right…" 
"I wonder what Miss Junko would say right now. Seeing you pinned down like this?" Their eyes flickered to the sky at the fantasy that no doubt filled their mind. 
Makoto tried his hardest not to cringe, and just attempted to change the subject instead, "Do you want me to do something for you?" It was a loaded question. One that made Makoto feel like he was picking all the wrong dialogue choices. 
"I do!" 
Progress. He wasn't sure if it was good progress, but it was, in fact, progress. 
"What's that?" 
Their voice dropped to a whisper, waning and cracking in excitement once again. They reached into their pocket. 
"I want you to watch this" 
They pulled out a little remote that looked horribly put together. Even with how much their hand trembled he could see that it was made of what seemed to be the remains of a torn apart scrap pile. Before Makoto could ask what they meant, they pressed the only button built in. 
What ensued was a large explosion. 
------
BOOM 
A loud eardrum breaking noise filled the previous silence. Byakuya was forced to grip the kitchen countertop as the world around him shook, a sudden intense burst of wind following soon after. The heat uncomfortable against his face. He made his way to the open wall, Kyoko not far behind him. 
"Was that an explosion?" Kyoko asked, not wanting to waste any time. 
Byakuya looked outside at the smoke and fire that overtook the sky. It was suffocating just to look at. Shit, it was definitely a trap then. "Looks like it" 
They watched frozen, transfixed on the horror as a building toppled from where it was standing, joining the others as rubble for them to walk on. They still stayed in place. They knew there was nothing they could do to prevent or help the issue. 
Byakuya was so focused on the sight, thinking about how he had to call for an early pick up that he didn't even notice until Kyoko asked. 
"Where's Naegi?" 
------
Makoto gasped and gasped as he ran for his life. After whatever that person had rigged went off he found himself surprisingly not being pinned anymore as the person sat cackling nearby. He had managed to slip away when more despaired came over and argued with the individual who had been pinning him.  Now he was running as fast as he could hoping he wouldn't get caught once again. 
He struggled against his traitorous tie, feeling it chafe against his wrists uncomfortably. Untying it would have been enough of a challenge without the running aspect. Now he found himself tripping over his own feet trying to think about the two things at once. 
Before he knew it, his feet had slipped right out from under him and he barely caught himself before faceplanting. 
Taking the fall as a hint, he stopped to catch his breath, looking around the area to gauge where he was. It seemed like more of the same until he saw a rather structurally sound convenience store. It was surprisingly big too for how little damage it had. A smile overtook his face. Aren't I lucky? Maybe the people inside can help me get this dang tie off. 
After letting his breathing calm down he made his way toward the store. Elation filled his heart, a familiar hope that kept him going. He knew it couldn't have all been a trap! Almost there now. Once inside he'd have someone untie his hands, and then he'd find his friends and-
His friends. He hoped Byakuya and Kyoko were safe. He had no idea how far the damage of the explosion traveled, but if it was enough to collapse an entire building there was certainly the risk of them being in hot water. Not to mention the multiple despaired that were walking around, who knows what sort of danger they could walk into. Then again, if anyone was capable of holding their own it would be Byakuya and Kyoko. But he should probably focus on his own safety instead of imagining Byakuya and Kyoko taking down their enemies in the most attractive way possible-
He was right there. He'd reached the convenience store. All the windows were covered up so that he couldn't see inside, but he knew someone inside was waiting. He just had to- huh? What's that? 
Makoto looked down to see a familiar, very unwelcome sight. It was a Monokuma with yellow and black stripes. At the top of its head was a red siren. And they were making eye contact. 
"Shi-" 
Instinctively he reeled back at the loud, sharp noise. The sound raised and lowered it's pitch smoothly, reminding him of tsunami drills he had to do back when he was in school and the implications it brought were similarly horrifying.
So much for being lucky. Makoto felt himself panicking again, the siren was loud enough to hurt his ears. He couldn't tell if his ears were ringing or if the siren was just that obnoxious. But he didn't have time to complain about that. The noise and the light… no doubt others would be coming soon. 
"Shh...shhhh!! Stop it!" He couldn't break the machine with his hands the way they were...he had to settle for getting help. 
Makoto stopped in his tracks before he could approach the door of the convenience store however, because there was someone watching him through the window. They'd opened the curtain to check what the commotion was. Makoto saw no madness or instability in their eyes...the survivors really WERE here. Makoto smiled, wishing he could wave and gesture for help, but he had to hope his expression was enough. 
The survivor frowned, eyes fixated on the Siren Monokuma. Without looking at Makoto again they closed the curtain.
No one was coming to help. 
Makoto backed away. That's ok. There was still a chance. If he ran quick enough maybe he could get away before reinforcements arrived. 
The growling he heard mocked his fruitless thoughts. That was the deranged sounds a Beast Monokuma made…he couldn't hope to outrun one of those. They were like real rabid bears but worse because they never got tired. They never stopped running once they had you in its sights, just like this one. 
But Makoto tried anyway to flee, only to end up taking a riot shield to the face from a Guard Monokuma. 
"Oof!" 
He fell back hard feeling all air leave his lungs. The snarling and pounding of the Beast Monokuma was getting louder. Too loud. Makoto rolled onto his side, scrambling to get up. He winced as a claw grazed his cheek, first blood of the night welling up. 
He felt like an insignificant worm with how he desperately rolled on the floor, hoping to find good enough footing in his panic to stand. But when he got to his knees he was met with another riot shield. He almost didn't react in time to dodge another slash from the Beast, managing to get the tie around his wrists cut. 
He'd never gotten to his feet so quickly before in his life. Bits of gravel stuck to his palms and blood ran down his right arm. He scrambled to find something -anything- to defend himself with, but he was already surrounded. It was too late to even bother going for the Siren Monokuma. How the hell was he supposed to-? 
He yelled out as sharp metal claws dug into his back, seemingly deep enough that he feared for his spine. The claws rake along his back as the beast removes them. If that wasn't enough to bring him back to reality, he was quickly overwhelmed, bruises being beaten into every inch of his skin from the shields, and slashes from regular Monokuma's on his arms. And worse of all the Beast Monokuma that was trying its best to chomp his head off with it's twitchy manic movements. He tried his best to fend it off, pushing at it personally with his bare hands despite the continuous relentless assault he was receiving. 
Another good hit with a shield and his hands slipped. In a split second moment that he didn't even get to think about, he reached a leg up and kicked at its face. He only had a moment of victory.
It bit down on his leg and didn't let go.
Now the interesting thing about Makoto is that even though he doesn't seem capable, he's grown to be able to keep himself calm when it mattered. Even at his own execution, where he was slowly heading towards his untimely demise, With frequent reminders of what was about to come, he had managed to keep as calm as possible. Even well he fell stories down into the garbage. He refused to make a peep and panic when every one of his friends could see. But right now no friends were watching.
Naegi Makoto screamed.
-----
"I'm going to kill Naegi my damn self for running off when we find him." Byakuya was, as per usual, annoyed as hell. 
Kyoko sighed, "Calm down. I'm sure there's a reason, you know he isn't like that." 
Byakuya rolled his eyes, but didn't say a word. Kyoko was completely right, but he would never give her the satisfaction of admitting that. His silence was enough. 
They had made way for the source of the explosion only to find the path to the other side of the city was completely blocked off by the collapsed structure. Due to the closed off nature of the cities remains that left them with only one option: go the long way around and hope those entrances aren't blocked as well. 
When it was just Kyoko and Byakuya there was always this weird silence. Sometimes comfortable, sometimes tense. Makoto was always the one to fill it, he was like the bridge between the two. Kyoko wished he could tell Byakuya to cheer up -his attitude was getting on her nerves- but Makoto's absence was the whole reason for it in the first place. 
"Keep your guard up" she reminded, her own hand staying close to the pouch strapped to her thigh. Inside was an all weather purpose mini notepad and a handheld taser. She quite liked her taser, it was both heavy hitting and satisfied Makoto's wish to not kill anyone: even the despaired. "I'm certain that explosion was rigged up by a person." 
Byakuya scoffed, "I am Togami Byakuya" he kindly reminded her. Kyoko rolled her eyes, she'd heard that way too many times to count. "My guard is always up and my reaction time is perfect. Maybe you should worry about yourself instead." 
"Incorrigible as usual, I see." 
He glared back down at her, still walking forward with overconfident strides, "I'll have you know-" 
There it is. Another rant which consisted only of Byakuya boasting about his own skills. She shut him out without a second thought, focusing on her surroundings instead. It's not as though Byakuya would provide any sort of new information anyway. 
"Wait." She interrupted, which Byakuya hated, but his feelings be damned, "do you hear that?" 
Byakuya paused, facing towards the direction she was looking. There was a sound in the distance, something familiar. It was far, but if he focused hard enough he could figure it out. 
Kyoko and Byakuya looked at each other, both having recognized the siren's undeniable screech at the same time. With a nod, they began to run. Makoto or not, whoever was caught by that Siren Monokuma was in danger. Byakuya steadied his hacking gun in his hand and Kyoko effortlessly pulled her taser from it's bounds. Despite their great desire to find Makoto meer seconds ago, they hoped that anyone else would be caught by the Monokuma's. But, this was Makoto after all. 
It took an undetermined amount of time for them to loop around to the convenience store, but the time spent felt uncomfortably long to them both. When they did arrive they found it was a chaotic mess. There was a group of Monokuma's huddled together over one unseen person. There was blood scraped across the concrete as though someone was dragged with their horrible injuries and all. But there were no sounds of a struggle. The sight was more akin to school yard bullies gathering to kick a victim than a genuine fight. 
Without wasting much time Byakuya fired at the Siren Monokuma, destroying it without a second thought. "Damn noise was getting on my nerves" He said. 
Kyoko shook her head, "Focus" she pointed her nose towards the pile up. Byakuya's uncaring attitude toward the situation showed that he believed the person was already dead. One by one the machines fell apart or destroyed themselves. And in their wake was a small, bloodied mess in human shape. The smell of copper and the sickening sight of messy pink was one they had gotten all too used to over the years. But that didn't make it easier when you recognized one of those bodies as someone you cared about. 
Byakuya felt harsh, furious breaths of air pushing in and out of his nose. The action was an almost unconscious response. He couldn't help but let anger well up at the sight of Naegi Makoto laying on the ground curled up on his side.
He grit his teeth, "Is he…?" Dammit. A Togami didn't hesitate. Certainly not Byakuya.
"No." Kyoko's voice was barely more than a whisper, and for a split second he thought she was simply in denial. But no, she had caught  sight of Makoto's chest moving up and down. She made way to him, hands hovering over him unsure of how deep his injuries ran. The first thing she saw were vicious claw marks running down his back. There were bits of debris clinging to the wound. They were ugly and jagged things. She wanted to roll him onto his back to get a better look at him but was it even safe to move him at all? She didn't want to risk paralyzing him. Not to mention she'd be pressing his wound to the ground. She glanced to his leg. A complete mangled mess, she could tell the unit that attached itself to his leg was relentless in its attack. Shaking and thrashing and the like. The fabric that once covered his leg was all but torn to shreds leaving the whole injury on brutal display. There was blood pooling underneath where he lay on the ground. His skin was pale from blood loss, breaking into a cold sweat that made her certain shock was already setting in. Almost all exposed skin was blossoming into a different, unnatural color indicating a plethora of bruises. His breathing was quiet but heavy, he'd already lost a lot of blood. When her eyes finally trailed up to his face she felt a small bit of relief that his features were marred by only a small cut on his left cheek, with a lazy stream of blood pouring from it. 
Byakuya and Kyoko were two individuals with a massive disconnect of their emotions brought about by their upbringing. Byakuya turned any emotion he felt into anger and disdain. Kyoko snuffed out most emotions she felt so that nothing would show. They had the emotional resolve of steel, it wasn't easy breaking down their walls. Makoto was that strange part of the equation that ruined all of that. He managed to get Byakuya to be intrigued by someone so seemingly insignificant and he managed to get Kyoko to act pouty and almost childish during the game. Yes, their entire lives were spent crafting these defenses. And now they had to fight to keep it all together with only elmers glue in their arsenal.
Kyoko was up close and personal with all the gruesome details of his attack. She tried to shove it all down so that she could completely focus on ensuring Makoto's survival. But he was looking up at her with a dazed half lidded look, as though any second the world would slip away from under his feet. And despite that Makoto smiled when he caught eyes with her. Kyoko's heart cracked. 
Byakuya could only watch with his fists by his side. He had set out to ensure all the survivors of the first killing game continued to survive and here we are. He forced all these feelings to be translated into anger. But he knew the underlying causes. He knew there was a part of him that simply was scared for his friends sake. 
The two of them both understood the others emotional grievances. And that's exactly why Byakuya's heart skipped a beat when Kyoko looked up at him with fear vibrant in her eyes. 
"It doesn't look good." 
493 notes ¡ View notes
hacked-by-jake ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Was that Jake there 2
Part 1
Pairing: JakexMc
Words: 4,2k
A/N: So, a few days ago I got an absolutely sweet comment from @captainwanderlust78❤️
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Really, you made my last week. And then unfortunately the news came from Everbyte that EP 7 will come later. And actually, there wasn’t a second part planned for this story, but since you wanted one so much, here we are. This is my second attempt, because I wrote a part that I didn’t like. I tried to keep the story a little more quiet this time. Anyway, I hope you like it and apologize for possible mistakes. Oh and Merry Christmas. 🌲❤️
--
"Ready little ones?" Dan asks you and pokes you with his elbow.
"Yes, I’m ready," you answer and look at the big clock in the motel lobby.
Point 12 at midday.
"I’ll be gone," you say goodbye to the others.
"Take care of yourself and call me if you need anything," Richy informs you.
"Yeah, or if he attacks you," hiss Dan.
"Dan" hisses Jessy and steps on his foot.
"Ouch" growls Dan and looks at her accusingly.
Jessy is just ignoring this and calls after you, "See you later".
Slowly but with firm steps you make your way to the elevator.
Immediately the doors open and you get in and press the button for floor three.
The place the place where you meet is going to be a motel room that can’t be used because of renovation.
This is the perfect place to meet Jake.
He will come over the fire escape behind the motel to the third floor and there you meet in the room.
Deciding how and when the meeting will take place was quite awkward.
Yesterday after you guys finished partying at the club, you and Jessy called a cab as planned to take you home to Jessy. Fortunately, everything worked out, until the taxi driver drove to the roadside in the middle of the drive and simply switched off the engine.
Immediately all the alarms were on in your head, and you were ready to get out of the car if necessary.
He turned to you in the back and silently held a note to you.
The paper was folded very small, you opened it and saw many ones and zeros.
0100100001100101011011000110110001101111 010011010110001100001010
Grinning, you rolled your eyes.
"What’s that supposed to mean?" Jessy wonders.
"This is a binary code," you explain to her and pull your phone out of your pocket.
"Ah now I know what that is, of course," she grumbles ironically.
"This is computer language"
You search the Internet for a code translator.
You took a picture of the notes, the translator took the numbers and translated them directly.
"Hello Mc" you read, "Is this serious?".
The driver silently held out a note to you.
You also open this note and moan desperately.
"Can’t he just write normal letters?" you mumble and take a deep breath.
"He’s a computer nerd, they’re all weird," answers the man who was supposed to be just a taxi driver.
01010100 01101111 01101101 01101111 01110010 01110010 01101111 01110111
00001010 01000100 01101111 01101111 01110010 01100010 01100101 01101100 01101100 00001010 01010000 01101100 01100001 01101110
01100110 01101111 01110010
01100111 01110101 01111001
00001010
"Tomorrow morning, doorbell, plan for guy" is the translation.
"Huh?" makes Jessy next to you.
"I’ve got another one," the guy calls again.
"One more? Why not write everything on a piece of paper?"
"Clay said it was too confusing"
"Clay?"
"Oh, Jake, excuse me" he grins and holds out the third note.
01001101 01100101 01100101 01110100 00001010 00110001 00110010
"Meet
12 o'clock
"Midday"
"Okay, so, there’s a man ringing in the morning and he wants me to tell him the plan but the meeting has to be at 12:00," you put it all together.
"Right" the man agrees with you and starts the car again.
"Wait, You knew what that meant?"
"Yes, but we should talk as little as possible, that’s why the notes" he explains to you.
"But I said it out loud"
"Yes, right"
After that, he didn’t speak, but at least you didn’t have to pay.
Well, and then 20 minutes later, you and Jessy took the next taxi back to Roger’s garage, and there you all met again to work out the plan.
Lilly told Mrs Walter she didn’t have to work today. Lilly would take her shift and the owner should have a nice day with Alfie.
After a little persuasion it worked and Lilly is the only one who has to work.
There are only 13 rooms occupied in the entire motel, and only two of them are on the third floor, so the room with the renovation fits best.
This morning at 7 o'clock, a flower messenger rang at Jessy’s house, and you stared at the roses and then at the man.
"Gohstbusters" he said and you understood what to do.
You gave him a note stating the plan for the meeting.
However, written in hieroglyphs.
But there is also a translator on the Internet.
The elevator doors open and you look around.
No one is to be seen so you make yourself on the way to the room which is at the very end of the corridor.
With the key card you got from Lilly, you can open the door, hold the card against the sensor and the door cracks quietly. You press the door inwards and notice that there’s light on.
However, of course you did not expect that a man sitting in the room on the desk chair.
"Oh, God," you jump back a step.
The man looks up and immediately looks worried.
"Oh my God," you murmur as you realizes it’s just Jake.
Completely out of breath, you lean with your hands on your knees and breathe deeply.
"Oh shit, MC, I didn’t mean to." He murmurs and comes up to you.
You laugh in agony and grin forced.
"Ha uhm already okay, all right, I was not scared".
A small but quiet laugh comes from Jake’s mouth.
He’s going to the side so you can come in. He locks the door behind you.
"How did you get in here?" You ask and try to calm your heart that feels like it’s jumping out of your chest.
"The doors are not safe for hackers," he explains, sitting back on the chair.
"You hacked a motel door?" you ask amused.
"Yes, you weren’t there yet, but I couldn’t stay in front of the door. That would have been more than conspicuous," he argues.
You just shake your head and let yourself fall on the bed. For a moment it is quiet, only the ticking of the clock can be heard.
"Thank you for coming," you speak in silence.
"Hm yes" is the answer.
"You’re still against it, aren’t you?" you ask unsure.
"MC, please don’t think I wouldn’t want to see you too, but I won’t be reassured until you’re safe again," he explains.
"How are you?" you change the subject.
"I am fine, and you?"
You roll your eyes, "Don’t tell me everything at once," you say ironically.
A smile appears on his face.
"Honestly not so good" he admits.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, it’s okay" he declines. You pull up an eyebrow and you look at him in a challenging way, "Okay, then in a different way. Tell me what’s going on," you challenge him and leave no room for a negative answer.
You point to the bed next to you and signal him to sit next to you.
He thinks briefly but then does what you want
"Well, it’s all pretty stressful right now," he starts.
"Okay good, and keep going" attentively you look at him.
He finally surrenders and begins to report.
"There were some problems that we didn’t expect, they almost caught us. We could only cross a border with a lot of luck and help, but that took us quite some time. And then I made a stupid mistake, the pursuers were able to intercept our signal. As a result, I had to burn my laptop and cell phone so that nothing could be found.
That took us some time too. The agents are much better than I thought, they are much too fast and much too good and that makes it really hard for me. And for the others, too. And what’s even harder is, that I can’t write to you anymore. I dont know how far along you are, or if you have new clues, new key results, how far along you are with Hannah, but even worse, I don’t know how you’re doing. How you feel or if you have problems, and that makes my head full all day with questions that revolve around you. Sometimes we manage to access the Internet for a short time through public computers in libraries or cafes. But contacting you would be too dangerous. I can delete a lot of data from the system but as I said, the agents are better than I thought and unfortunately we do not know exactly how well and how much they can get back. I would have to take every computer with me and burn it down, but that would be even worse if computers were suddenly missing everywhere. It’s shitty MC, I’m honest, I hate this situation, but it’s my own fault"
exhausted, he rubs his face.
Wow okay, that was very honest.
Worried you look at him.
You could say things like "everything’s gonna be okay" or "it’s not your fault." But let’s face it, it’s not helping anyone. So the only logical way is to just hug him tight, and that’s exactly what you’re doing.
You slide a little closer to him and wrap your arms around his upper body and lean your head against his shoulder. Unlike yesterday, he does not tense himself but also gently lays his arms around your body. Immediately, its smell rises in your nose and tingles through your body. You notice how relief spreads in your body. Relief that he’s doing reasonably well, that he’s still free, that he’s here with you, that he’s hugging you, too. But above all, relief because it feels like every pressure is dropping from you, all the pressure of the last few weeks. The pressure because of Hannah, the pressure because of the man without a face, and of course the pressure that something might have happened to Jake. At least for a brief moment, everything is fine, and that makes you happy. And if you think about he’s gonna have to leave soon, you’re gonna get sick. But you don’t want to think about the negative things now, you just want to enjoy the moment, just a brief moment of rest.
You have closed your eyes and hear Jake’s heart beat rhythmically, which also calms you down. You remove an arm from his body and place your hand on his left chest. You can feel his heart just coming out of rhythm and then beating a little faster than before. This also makes your heart beat a little faster.
"You Jake?" you whisper softly.
"Mhh?" he makes a questioning sound.
"Who are the others?"
"They’re familiar to me. The three were also involved in the government project and now they are also in danger," he says briefly.
"Okay?" your voice sounds questioning.
"We know each other from different chat portals for hackers"
Thus, all your questions were answered. For this moment.
Slowly you break away from each other, even if you don’t want to, but it’s no use.
"I still have to thank Lilly and you" he addresses your #IamJake action.
"You don’t have to thank either of us, Lilly owed it to both of us, and I do it because I want,"  you assure him.
"But still, it’s not understandable, I hope it will help us. The idea was really good. The others were quite fascinated when they saw this, "he praises you and his half-sister.
"You deserve it, too, Jake," you reaffirm your action even more.
Ironically he laughs, "with what?"
"In which you are, and also do everything to find Hannah, even if she doesn’t know you’re her half-brother. And Lilly also understood that we both just wanted to help."
"That might have been a little selfish of me. I just wanted you guys to make up because I don’t know where this is going with the two of us. And I wanted to take the opportunity early" he confesses.
"I can live with that" a little smile is on your face.
He doesn’t know where this is going with us, and he wanted you and his half-sister to make up.
"I’m sorry, MC but -" he starts.
You sigh, "but we still have something to discuss," you finish his sentence.
"I’m sorry, but we only charged three hours at the most, then I have to go "he looks at you apologetically.
"It’s okay, let’s not talk about it now".
You really don’t want to talk about it right now. The conversation will come soon enough. Jake gets his backpack on the desk and takes out his laptop.
Then he sits down next to you again and asks you to give him your phone.
Quickly, a connection is established and the screen of your phone is displayed on the laptop.
And so you begin to discuss everything that’s happened since he was gone.
-
By now you had arrived at Lilly’s and your chat.
"You really called her Duskwood’s worst legend?" Jake asks a little overwhelmed if he can laugh about it.
"Um, I was a little mad," you smile innocently at him.
"Remind me not to argue with you" he looks at you briefly from the side and grins crooked.
"I like to argue sometimes" challenging, you look at him.
"Yes, I noticed that, so we prefer not to"
Quietly, he continues to read the chat while you wait to see if he has any questions.
From the side you see his eyes suddenly get a little bigger and he swallows.
"Everything okay?" you ask him immediately.
"So we’re in love?" he asks teasingly.
It takes a short time to remember the message, immediately you get warm and your cheeks turn red.
Then you laugh a little hysterical.
"Um, haha that- that, uhm yes..." you stutter.
Jake raises an eyebrow.
"Um, yeah, I can explain that," nervously you start playing with your hands and scratching your neck in turns.
"Uhm, so - on that point I didn’t know, uhm, what relationship you and Lilly have. So this - I didn’t know you both were siblings, and then I kind of wanted to piss them off. Well, I- I thought it might upset Lilly or something".
You don’t even know if that’s true, you just said it without thinking. Maybe it’s true, but he doesn’t want anyone know it, or it‘s just going too fast for him.
You wish for nothing more than for the floor to swallow you.
"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have written that. I hope I didn’t make you feel stupid or anything, that’s the last thing I want, can we just forget about it?" you murmur in shame.
You look at the tips of your shoes so you don’t have to look at Jake.
"Lilly was right," Jake murmurs into the unpleasant silence.
"I didn’t like that they voted against you in the vote. They treated you unfairly, I didn’t like that at all," he admits, "I felt the need to at least scare the others. Which was not quite okay, but I couldn’t watch them treat you like this".
You’re looking at him.
"It was for Hannah, because you will be the key, but I could have just written a message, but that was not enough for me".
You can’t hold back a slight grin.
"Thank you" is all you can say.
"Is it true?" he harks curiously.
"Huh? What?" you act like you didn’t understand his question
"Well, what you wrote to Lilly"
"You know I like you," you confirm.
In response, you get just another big smile from Jake as he just keeps looking at the screen.
However, he omits the end of the chat, at the point where you got the video.
He knows probably after that it’s about his family.
"I’m very proud of you MC" he starts to talk, "you two worked really well together and I’m amazed how well you were able to solve the puzzles".
A little shy about his praise, you just thanked him.
Exhausted, you fall back on the bed.
Jake closes his laptop, puts it back in his pocket and then slowly lies down next to you.
"I haven’t asked you how you are actually doing" he notes a little depressed.
"At least better than in the last few weeks. It’s all very exhausting, but I can do it" you mumble and turn your head to the left so you can look at him.
His page profile is really beautiful.
"We met at a very strange time," Jake mutters, and he also turns his head in your direction.
For a moment, you look at each other silently.
"You are so wonderful and especially MC, do you know that?" he breathes.
"I don’t know, is that me?" you ask quietly.
"So wonderful that I don’t understand why you’re lying here with me"
"Maybe because you’re special, too, Jake. And even more wonderful than all the people I’ve met so far" you reciprocate his sweet compliment and mean every word seriously.
"Are you sure about this?"
"To 100 percent"
"You deserve someone better than me," he sighs.
"Stop lying," you grinned.
Now you both look at each other silently again, only the second hand and the birds from outside can be heard.
Slowly Jake raises a  hand and wipes a strand of hair from your face.
You take his hand in yours and you cross your fingers with each other.
Jake looks thoughtfully at your hands.
"It’s dangerous what we’re doing here," he mutters.
"You can take that little break, Jake. That's okay," you calm him down.
"Maybe, but it’s dangerous to be here with you. You get such big problems if the persecutors find out you know me," he easily squeezes your hand.
"Jake, don’t worry about it. I know who I’m dealing with and I know it can end badly. But that’s why I don’t care, if we don’t risk it now, it may be too late. And then we’ll never know if it would’ve worked.
At the moment everything is going crazy, so why not at least do what you want for a short time?"
"You should become a motivational trainer" he suggests for fun.
"Do you think? Did my speech help?"
"I agree with your words, but I have so much more to lose. My freedom and looking for Hannah, but those are just the little things. The biggest problem is that I could never live with myself if you got problems just because I was selfish. Against these problems the man without face is nothing, MC. If you go to jail because of me, I could never forgive myself, you understand. And that’s my problem, I don’t know if I can risk it, I don’t want to ruin your whole life.
You made new friends here, when Hannah gets back, you’ll be completely happy, but then there’s me. The guy who runs from the government, that’s not what you deserve", he tries desperately to explain.
"That’s also why I don’t tell you what exactly I did, why I tell you as little as possible. You can’t say anything if you know nothing no matter what they do, you don’t know it. If the agents find you, they definitely do a lie-detector test with you, and hopefully, they won’t do any more than that. But if you don’t know anything, you’re not in danger either."
"I understand your point, I understand your worries and your fear, but, Jake, I’m aware of all of this. I know what happens if you and I can be connected, but I accept it for you and for Hannah."
"But that’s the thing, you shouldn’t put yourself in danger for this, not even for Hannah. And you being in Duskwood is dangerous enough, which is why I’m here with you, because it’s too dangerous."
You pull up an eyebrow and look skeptical.
"You don’t have to take care of me.What   should happen to me? I won’t be alone.One of the others will always be with me. The man without a face can’t do anything to me, "you calm him down.
"I know, I know, but I’m still worried about you"
"But there’s nothing you can do about it, Jake. And the rest of the time we have left, we shouldn’t discuss things we can’t influence. None of us can change the situation"
"I don’t like that you’re right again" he grumbles what makes you smile.
"Do you know I’m happy right now?" you tell him softly, "because of you."
"Why?"
"Because I know you’re doing reasonably well, and because you’re here with me.
And you’re risking your freedom right now because I wished for this meeting. Then how could I not trust you, Jake? You deserve me to be here with you. And that’s also one reason why I don’t care if they get me, you confided in me even though you’re in a difficult time. You trusted me and that’s why I trust you" to support your words, you put his hand on your lips and breathe a short kiss on the back of his hand.
Like he’s petrified, he’s watching you.
"I think I’m really in love," he whispers.
"And I think I’m in love with you too" you giggle softly.
Minimally you slide closer to him and lean slightly with your elbow on the bed to push you a bit upwards.
As if he were considering whether this is a good idea, he eventually slips closer to you, but a lot more than you.
He also leans on the bed to be back on your height, your hands remain united all the time.
His thumb gently caresses the back of your hand.
Not ten centimeters separates your faces from each other.
Jake takes the initiative and leans even further up so that your faces almost touches. You feel his breath on your skin and your body is flooded with excitement. It’s like they just touched by accident.
Slowly, your faces move towards each other until your lips gently touch. But it’s enough to light a fire in you and get Jake to press his lips on yours.
Immediately you close your eyes and return the kiss with as much feeling as he did. You can’t control yourself and grin into the kiss, which also makes Jake smile.
Jake pulls you up to you and pushes you slightly on the bed so you can use your hands more.
But just as quickly the kiss becomes passionate again. A thousand different feelings are buzzing in your head. Despair, fear, happiness, contentment. And that is reflected in your kiss.
Now your two hands separate from each other and Jake wraps both arms around your upper body. You feel a little dizzy and feel like everything is spinning even if you have your eyes closed. Your body tries to cope with all the feelings of happiness and seems to be overwhelmed. Actually, it’s no wonder. You’ve never longed so much for closeness but with Jake now, it’s very different. The kiss last night,
it was beautiful. But that was a very different situation than it is now.you were overwhelmed and a little drunk. First the warm air in the club, then Phil, then suddenly Jake, a kiss, a deal, and then a weird cab driver. All quite a lot at once, but now you can enjoy the kiss, and it’s a very different one from yesterday. This is a relief for both of you, and the beginning of something greater, but also the beginning of an even more stressful time than before. 'Cause how you’re supposed to let Jake go right now, you absolutely don’t know.
You feel like your eyes are filling with tears because of the emotional overload that is currently running through your body. And unfortunately, you two seem to be really starting to have trouble breathing, so you’re must breaking up with each other with a heavy heart. Absolutely out of breath, Jake leans his forehead against yours.
"If the persecutors find me, beat me, okay?" he breathes hard. "Okay, but why?" you giggle.
"Because then I screwed up to be able to kiss you all the time."
In response, you laugh and give him another kiss. You could lie there forever like right now, but Jake’s phone suddenly starts ringing. Annoyed, he rolls his eyes but then stands up from the bed.He gets his cell phone out of his pocket and accepts the call. Instantly you assume the worst. The others are calling to tell him they have to leave. You don’t know how to react and your hands start to shake. His answers leave no room to speculate about what it’s all about, and his facial expressions and posture remain neutral. Shortly after he finishes the phone call, he blows out air and turns to you. You’re already struggling with the tears in your eyes as Jake starts smiling." Well, I think we need to rent a room at the motel."
Confused you look at him, "W-what do you mean?"
"We’ll be safe for the next few days, someone pretending to be me tried to hack the CIA. They think they’ve arrested me"
------
extra material:
"That’s her," he says in a much too high tone. "It’s an honor to finally meet you, I feel like I know you better than Jake knows you. Can you actually scan my personality? Jake always tells me that you are really good at seeing through people and assess" he babbles.
"Oh, is he telling you this?" you ask and grin at Jake.
"Oh yes, if you knew, When he can’t sleep, he tells a lot about you. He doesn’t usually talk that much in a year," giggles Jake’s buddy.
"Max" hisses Jake and looks at him hard.
"And he’s always telling you how impressive you are, and that he’s amazed you don’t have a problem with him being a hacker. And how sweet you are."
"Okay, that’s enough" growls Jake and pushes him. The pushed one begins to laugh and raises his hands up defensively.
"Do you tell such things?" you look amused at him.  "Forget that, please," he grumbles.  "Oh, I’ll never be able to forget that, but to be fair, I’m thrilled with you, too. And you don’t look bad either." You grin cheekily at him.
--
Masterlist🌹🎭
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yoongi-sugaglider ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Daegu Quarantine
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Jungkook x reader
Gang/ zombie apocalypse au
Warnings:
Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?
Summary:
They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?
Word count: 2640
Part 15===Part 16===Part 17
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The next handful of days became a blur of activity. Well, more so for the others than for me.
Hoseok and I had been ordered to strict bedrest, which only one of us actually took seriously. While I sat in bed most of the day, watching movies on my laptop or vegging out on as many snacks as I could convince Jeanette to bring me, Hoseok on the other hand snuck by Jimin as often as possible to help the boys with various projects around the house.
The only reason I even found out is because every few hours I’d hear Jimin fussing at him all the way up the stairs and back to the bodyguard’s bedroom.
I sat with Jeanette, Rose, and Jimin one afternoon, chatting away with them while Jimin checked my leg wound when Jungkook wandered into the bedroom, a stoic look on his face as he sat at his computer desk and turned to stare blankly at my injured leg.
“Something on your mind boss?” Jimin asked as he cinched the bandage tight and turned to begin putting his tools away in his bag.
“Mmm…” 
The noncommittal sound drew my attention and I frowned at him, worry creasing my forehead as I reached my hand over to the small throw pillow I’d been using to prop up my injured leg.
“Oi! Earth to Jeon!” I yelled, tossing the pillow overhand at him. He caught it midair, never breaking eye contact with my leg as he tossed it onto the floor beside him.
“We can’t let Eun Kwang get away with this…” He muttered, the stoic look dissolving into a frown when he finally met my eyes.
“We’ve talked about this Kookie. There’s no point to trying to retaliate. We have no idea where they’re holed up. Nor how many of them there are or what kind of fire power they’re packing.” I leaned forward, pulling my pajama pant leg down and leaning back into the headboard.
“If we had even a sliver of that information…”
“Jungkook please…” I whispered, eyes pleading with him to drop it.
He growled, shoving his way out of the chair and to his feet. Fists clenched at his sides he glared at me, though the moment didn’t last long as his gaze softened.
I shook my head, nodding to Jeanette and Rose. “We have far too much on the line to risk even one of us getting dropped because of some half thought out revenge scheme. Jungkook, going out there would be suicide.”
“You wouldn’t leave a girl widowed before you’ve even gotten a chance to marry her boss, would ya?” Jimin’s quiet words seemed to do the trick.
Jungkook stared at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape as if he’d had half a mind to argue with the words from the wise doctor. But after a moment of fish bowling he shut his mouth, shaking his head with a resigned sigh.
“No...you’re both right. It’s hot headed and foolishness that’d get me killed before I even made it halfway there.” He bowed his head for a moment, eyes closed as he inhaled slowly.
“See, Tae said you were a smart man.” Rose grinned at him, standing from the bed and patting him on his arm. “Come on bud, let’s get some food in ya. I bet you haven’t eaten all day have ya?”
I snorted at the two, waving them off and thanking Jimin for his hard work. The room quickly cleared out, leaving just me and Jeanette to ruminate in our thoughts for a bit while I shifted around in bed trying to find a comfortable spot to mope in.
“Hey y/n?” Came the whispered voice of Jeanette, causing me to pause in my movements.
“What’s up?” A smile came to my lips as I watched the timid woman worrying at the hem of her shirt.
“Well umm… I was talking to Jin this morning while we worked on breakfast...about the pantry and stuff?”
I nodded as she paused, motioning for her to continue when she glanced over to me with a look of worry.
“Well, it’s just that… Yes, we have an amazing pantry. MRE’s keep for ages and so do canned goods. But like...wouldn’t it be nice to have fresh produce?” When I remained silent and smiling at her words her face lit up.
She began talking faster, turning in place to sit cross legged before me. She pulled the pillow I’d discarded earlier into her lap to protect the tiny protrusion of her belly as she spoke at length about her plans.
“Since there aren’t that many of us it wouldn’t have to be that big at first. And of course it would take a while for anything to grow. But just imagine, come fall we could have all kinds of amazing fresh veggies. Corn, carrots, tomatoes and potatoes. I could even manage cucumbers and watermelon if we could find things for the vines to climb.”
I leaned forward, taking her hands in mine and running my thumbs reassuringly across the ridges of her knuckles as she spoke, watching the idea grow bigger and bigger within her. The passion in her voice alone had me picturing the enclosed area, teaming with life and greenery and her tiny plump form tending to the plants as she coo’d at them as if they were her own children.
As she began outlining plans for bird proof netting she paused though, mouth curved into a gentle O of surprise and if I didn’t know any better, fear as her head whipped to the door to stare at Yoongi who’d been watching us...well her, talk this whole time.
“Oh...Yoongi I…” She bowed her head, seeming to shrink in on herself as if seeing the man had taken the wind out of her sails.
“Go on…” He whispered, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with an encouraging smile.
“It’s just….Jin told me to ask Hoseok, who pointed me to Jungkook, who told me to ask you...and well.”
“Jeanette…” My smile only grew when her gaze finally mine. Hope began shining in her eyes and it seemed that the entirety of her frame lit up with our shared excitement.
“I love the idea. Honestly. We can get Namjoon to draw up your plans. He’s basically a genius so I’m sure he could engineer it to be the second safest place in Daegu. And since we’ve been having issues with Hoseok sitting still for long enough, he can be on duty for helping you till the soil or anything else that you might need.”
“I’ll be there to help as well…”
I glanced over to Yoongi and he grinned at the shocked look on my face.
“All of my end of things is done. You can’t exactly expect me to sit on my thumbs while cleaning my weapons all day now can you?”
Jeanette giggled at his words, gingerly lifting herself from the bed and smoothing out the black YG shirt that drowned her figure, another of Yoongi’s favorite shirts.
“Thank you y/n. Really I mean it. I was worried that I wasn’t able to contribute enough to everything that was going on and well...with this…”
“Hey now, we talked about this.” Yoongi walked over, wrapping her in a side hug and tracing his fingers down the bare skin of her arm. “You’re doing plenty enough. Between laundry and helping Jin cook all the meals?”
“Exactly.” I chimed in, shifting to my side a bit so I could send her a less pained smile. “Nobody in this house thinks you’re a burden in any way. And if they even think it I’ll tell Jungkook to beat them up on the spot.”
Yoongi snickered, sending me another grin. “He’d do it too, no questions asked. So don’t worry your pretty little head about it, yeah?”
She nodded after a moment’s hesitation.
“Well, alright then. It’s settled.” He began steering her towards the door, shooting me one last grateful smile. “Let’s get those plans started on. Let the boss lady get herself some rest.
As my bedroom door shut behind them, I couldn’t help but to wonder when and how they’d gotten so close.
***
By dinner time I’d managed to convince Jimin to let me down to the basement. Everyone was off doing their own thing and frankly sitting alone to eat in the bedroom again had made me so nauseous just thinking about it that I’d almost opted to skip dinner all together. But he’d seen the desperate plea in my eyes and relented, barring that I allowed Jungkook to carry me down there.
I sat with Taehyung and Rose, munching away at my meal as I watched them giggle over stories they shared of when they’d first met.
“It was a coding nightmare. I’d only been working for the main office for two months when they put his case in my lap. Some young kid that’d managed to bully his way into the Seoul Police department’s criminal database and posted all of the corrupt politicians with arrest warrants and speeding ticket fees to every news site that he could get his grubby little hands on.” Rose cackled, throwing her head back as her entire body shook with the force of her laugh.
“Hey! That was some of my best work!” Taehyung pouted, tossing a wayward green bean in her direction and causing her to snort harder.
“Best work? You had everything so scrambled from that little backdoor snipe that it took their tech department 2 years to set everything straight.” She shook her head, popping the betrayed green bean in her mouth before tossing one of her own in his direction.
He caught it in his mouth easily, smirking all the while before continuing his rant. “It was the art job that did me in.”
“Art job?” I leaned forward, almost instantly regretting the movement when a rib shifted and sent a spike of pain shooting through my chest.
“Shit, you good?” Tae asked, looking as if he was half way to dropping everything to come to my rescue.
I waved him off, shoving a hand over the cursed injury and grinning despite the pain.
“I’m fine. Now come on, tell me about the art job!”
Rose snorted, placing her plate beside her and leaning back on her hands to give Tae a coy smile. “It was why I call him Art Nerd. He decided it would be a good idea to hack into the archives of one of the biggest art museums in the world.”
“You wouldn’t believe it!” Tae tossed up his hands, all angst and agitation as he stood abruptly and began pacing the room. “Of all the places you would think that would be trustworthy about their pieces and whether they were authentic or not. The Louvre!!” He paused in his pacing, pointing angrily to his computer before spinning on his heels to scowl at me when I began snickering.
“Did you know…” He paused, stalking closer and bending forward to glare in my face, “that 87% of all the art in the Louvre is fake?”
I gasped, feigning shock at the revelation.
“That’s right! It’s a travesty! They spit on the names of the greatest artists to have ever walked the face of this planet!” He growled, turning from me to begin pacing again. “The nerve of those imbeciles. Displaying Van Gogh forgeries as if they were the real deal.”
“Needless to say when he tried to tell the world what he found out he got caught.” Rose shook her head, picking at the last of her mashed potatoes with her fork.
She glanced over at me, sly smile broadening into a full grin.
“Did you know he was wanted in 27 countries for that little debacle?”
“Tae!!!” I gasped, eyes wide as I stared at him in awe.
He shrugged, literally beaming at this point with pride though he tried to play it off as bashfulness.
Rose pointed behind me and I shifted around to stare.
“Wait…” My eyes widened with equal parts horror and pride as I whipped my head around to glare at Taehyung. “Tae...you didn’t!!”
This time he couldn’t disguise the pride. He bounded around the sofa, skidding to a stop before what I had previously thought was just a bunch of band posters. There, hanging on the wall was what Tae had told us long ago was a quilt that his grandmother had given him.
He’d sworn that he’d remove the hands of anyone who ever dared touch it. Hell he’d chased Jungkook halfway to downtown Daegu once for nudging it with his shoulder during one of the boy’s many playful basement wrestling matches. But as he slowly and reverently lifted the blanket I quickly realized the real reason why he treasured it so much. Right there on the wall, hanging between two trashy band posters was…
“Tae is that Starry Night?? Like… the actual real fucking deal Starry Night?????” I screeched.
“I couldn’t help it. When I found out they’d hung it between two forgeries I just knew I had to save it.” He lovingly traced his fingers above the protective glass, never actually touching it but making the motions nonetheless.
Rose muttered behind me, snickering into her hand as Tae dropped the quilt back into place and turned to frown at her.
“What was that Jangmi?” he growled, his already baritone voice dropping as he walked back to stand over her.
She squeaked, shrinking back as he crouched down and lifted her chin with a single finger so that she was forced to look him in the eyes.
“I said...I...hnnggg…” The brilliant blush rushing to her cheeks had me bursting with laughter, gripping my sides as I pressed myself into the sofa.
“Damn you two are adorable.” I wheezed, wiping at my tears as I watched the two hackers spring apart as if they’d forgotten I was there.
Tae gathered up our dishes, muttering to himself all the while as he disappeared upstairs. But not before I spotted his own crimson cheeked grin.
“Huh…” Rose muttered. I returned my attention to her, realizing quickly that she was now staring at the security feed pulled up on the tv before us.
“What’s up?” I asked, eyes darting over the various live images before settling on one that showed Jeanette and Seokjin talking in the area they’d decided would be the future garden.
“I thought I saw something.” Came Rose’s absent minded reply. She clicked on the video I’d been watching, bringing it up to fill the screen and squinting at a corner of the shed beside the unaware pair.
“Are you sure?” I whispered, straining to make anything out in the depths of the shadows.
“Maybe not… Tae’s better at security monitoring than I am… Let me just…”
She began typing rapidly, a series of commands appearing on screen before a top down view of the area appeared.
“Is that…”
“A live satellite view, yeah. I figured, I’ve got access to them, why not use them…” She clicked again, zooming in rapidly before suddenly screaming. “Oh shit! There’s chatterers outside the fucking gates!”
“The fuck did you just say!?”
We both screamed as Jungkook charged around the sofa, appearing as if from nowhere and grabbing Rose’s arm in a death grip.
“What do you mean there’s chatterers outside the gates?” Jungkook glared at Rose, the hardened criminal in him causing her to cower as far back as his grip would allow her.
“Kook…”
“I’m sorry okay! I was wondering what it was that I’d seen in the backyard, and when I switched to the satellite feed I saw them. It’s at least 30 of them. Jungkook, we’re surrounded!”
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itsclydebitches ¡ 4 years ago
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I've seen some people say tat Rubys speech was just edited short. We didn't hear the full speech. Just snippets and reactions. Hence it being so broken and disjointed. I could believe that, but then it just become a horrible directing decision. That moment needed to be heard and reacted to in full. Either she gave the worst speech or whoever in CRWBY made the call to edit it that was messed up.
I made a transcript! 
Uh… hi. My name is Ruby Rose. I’m a huntress. And if we’ve done everything right then I’m talking to all of Remnant right now. Dr. Polendina can explain more later, but right now you all need to know that the kingdom of Atlas is under attack. Things are dire and we need help. But please, try not to panic. This isn’t some new enemy or invading kingdom. This is a force we’ve faced before. For centuries. Salem. The White Fang, Atlesian Drones, even the grimm themselves have all been controlled and manipulated by her in order to tear down the huntsmen academies. 
[Cut to Penny as opposed to a citizen watching. Ruby’s speech continues, but this may indicate that we lost some info, especially given the non-sequitur of the next line]
I know the idea of the Maidens and Relics seems, well, crazy, but I promise Professor Goodwitch of Beacon and Headmaster Theodore of Shade can verify all of this. They might even be able to help organize a way to fight back! But, sadly, General Ironwood can no longer be trusted.
[Harriet cuts the feed and we see Watts hacking Penny. It’s impossible to know whether the next line picks up where we left off, or skipped more speech.]
We didn’t have time to prepare for Salem, but now you do! Just because she can’t be destroyed doesn’t mean she can’t be beaten. If she really was unstoppable she wouldn’t have acted with such caution until now! She knows we’re a threat! So even if we—even if Atlas falls, you can’t give up. 
[Penny is hacked, but it doesn’t seem to interrupt the connection. She’s only gone for a second]
I hope Amity tower will bring us all together. Because in the end that’s how we’ll win! 
[Feed ends]
On the one hand I think it’s possible that we missed parts because RWBY has done that in the past. For example, we still have no idea if Ironwood knows that the Lamp still has a question left/what really happened with Ozpin because we never got to see the conversation between him and Oscar. On the other hand, Pietro was emphasizing how short Ruby’s recording was. They don’t need to keep Amity going for long and this is already a fairly substantial speech. The only place I’d say it’s really likely we missed something is right before mentioning the Relics and Maidens - just because that line comes out of nowhere - but otherwise it all reads as one thought building off of the one that (presumably) came before it. So I think it’s both. We may have missed stuff and Ruby gave a reeeeaaally bad speech. Let’s look at the transcript once more, this time with notes: 
Uh… hi. My name is Ruby Rose. I’m a huntress. And if we’ve done everything right then I’m talking to all of Remnant right now. Dr. Polendina can explain more later (He can? Since when?), but right now you all need to know that the kingdom of Atlas is under attack (How are you being attacked? What does this attack look like?) Things are dire and we need help (What kind of help, Ruby? You’re talking to “all of Remnant,” 95% of which can’t do anything proactive help you. Give the ones who can do something some guidance). But please, try not to panic. (You just told everyone the situation is “dire” and that the most powerful kingdom needs help. Telling people not to panic will just make them panic more). This isn’t some new enemy or invading kingdom. This is a force we’ve faced before (They have no idea what you’re talking about right now). For centuries. Salem. (That name means nothing and just got more confusing with “centuries.”). The White Fang, Atlesian Drones, even the grimm themselves have all been controlled and manipulated by her in order to tear down the huntsmen academies. (What person controls people, tech, and grimm? How do you control grimm? Why is she attacking academies? What is this girl talking about? And how is this Salem attacking Atlas now? You just named three distinct tools, so if we come help what should we expect? Grimm? Another hacked army? Are we fighting people?? Also, congratulations on ramping up the racial tensions. Dropping “White Fang” in there is going to cause a lot of people to turn on the faunus.)
I know the idea of the Maidens and Relics seems, well, crazy, but I promise Professor Goodwitch of Beacon and Headmaster Theodore of Shade can verify all of this (I sure hope we missed part of the speech because otherwise Ruby forgot to tell them what these things even are. Still love her saddling Glynda and Theodore with this insane responsibility. They won’t be able to go anywhere in public now. Seriously. The entire WORLD just heard they’re the two people who can explain/fix this.). They might even be able to help organize a way to fight back! (Ruby is ignoring Salem’s immortality, as usual.) But, sadly, General Ironwood can no longer be trusted. (No information there whatsoever. Just a blanket, ‘Don’t trust him’ without reason or evidence.) 
We didn’t have time to prepare for Salem, but now you do! (Okay, let’s just get the fighters together and--) Just because she can’t be destroyed doesn’t mean she can’t be beaten. (WHAT? She can’t be destroyed?? Well what are we supposed to do then?) If she really was unstoppable she wouldn’t have acted with such caution until now! (Well then why aren’t you stopping her? You’re the one with all the information and the most powerful kingdom at your back. If you can’t stop this scary Salem person, who can? I’m a random civilian just trying not to get eaten by regular, non-controlled grimm. Unless you’ve got the Spirit Bomb hidden away and need my energy, what do you expect me to do?) She knows we’re a threat! So even if we—even if Atlas falls, you can’t give up. (A whole kingdom is going to fall? The most powerful kingdom that provides most of our tech? AHHHHH)
I hope Amity tower will bring us all together (What was Amity Tower again? Is that something I should know about?). Because in the end that’s how we’ll win! (.......right.) 
If I had seen that recording I would have a LOT of questions. Starting with who the hell Ruby Rose is beyond a “huntress.” If the kingdom is in so much danger why is this teenager telling us about it? Am I going to believe, on her word alone, that I should cut ties with a world leader? Amass an army/prepare for an undefined threat against something that “can’t be destroyed”? Imagine for a moment, no matter where you live, that a random kid suddenly appeared on your computer screen and said the nearest country is currently falling to an indestructible someone named “Salem” and you should prepare for that... somehow. Would you take that seriously for even a second? No! I’d be worried about my security (how did she get on my laptop?) and then texting my friends like, “Lol that was wild. Do you think it’s true??” Then I’d hop on tumblr to watch the memes start. Anyone who does believe it - or better yet, gets proof of it happening - is going to be lost. Prepare how? Help how? Ruby told everyone the most panic-inducing information possible and her only advice was “Don’t panic.” Because she told everyone before figuring out how to beat Salem.  
This is why telling the world about Salem was always an awful idea and this is why you don’t let the untrained 17 year old give a clearly unplanned speech to the ENTIRE WORLD rather than, idk, finding a hostage negotiator or something. At least then they’d know how to provide reassurance other than “Don’t panic.” 
As a final note, is anyone going to be able to replay this? Was anyone recording? Imagine the chaos of not just the message itself, but a message everyone talks about via memory. Ruby just sent the whole world spiraling. 
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shibarirobot ¡ 4 years ago
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Aizawa fic - CH 5 - Entrapment
 18+ ONLY! SFW (for now)
Shouta Aizawa x Villian!OC/Reader(?)
CH1
CH4
Okay this chapter kinda fucked me up. I got very emo while writing this lmfaoooo, but again sooooooo sorry that I’m so inconsistent, I care about this story and I want it to actually be good before I post ((also I have the shittiest laptop on the face of the planet so I can barely use it)) more like I just dont have the patience to deal with it XD, mais oui! le chapter is done! Please enjoy! x
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The chair I’m strapped to is stiff and uncomfortable at my back. I haven't been able to move for awhile and it’s driving me fucking insane. My back aches, my thighs are sore, I can literally feel my pelvic bone, not to even mention the cracked rib still throbbing and I’ve started to remember the broken nose I gave myself. It’s hard enough to keep my head on straight, I can’t really seem to focus on the questions I’m being asked, let alone my answers. I’ve been here for hours, maybe days. I have no clue. I have absolutely no fucking clue. This dumbass, Detective Aiko just comes and goes, sometimes followed by a short man with a clipboard and glasses. He just asks a few questions and leaves, I’ve lost track of how many times he’s entered and left as quickly as he comes. This time he comes in dragging another metal chair and flips it around on the other side of the table, sitting on it backwards, like he thinks he’s fucking cool or something. He’s large, I’ll give him that. His thighs swallow up the chair easily and I’m surprised he can actually sit on the thing.
I look at him with my tired eyes. We’ve been at this too long, I’m so fucking tired and I can hardly hold his eye contact. My lips are so unbearably chapped they feel like they might split open at any moment, they might have actually, I can taste iron. I’m parched. My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. I’m about to crack, I can feel it. “Water.” My voice is tiny at this point, crackly from the dehydration. “I need water.” My eyes start to sag and I press forward slightly, straining against the straps on my torso, skin raw beneath them after so much of my writhing.
Detective Aiko blinks at me from across the table and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He easily taps one forward and plucks it from the box between his lips. I can tell it’s a practiced movement, he does it without thinking. His habit has become muscle memory. He shoves the pack into his pocket again and retrieves a zippo lighter. If I was more conscious I probably would have rolled my eyes, if it didn’t feel like they might fall out of my head if I did. Of course he has a zippo, ugh. It’s like he learned how to be a cop from watching cheesy cop movies. He flicks it open and closed in a split second and the cigarette is lit. He takes a deep breath, sucking down the entire thing, inhaling so deeply that his chest puffs and swells almost double. He holds that breath for a long moment, releasing it slowly. I expect the smell of burnt tobacco, but there is none. The smoke pours from his nostrils in thick swirls, but it dissipates quickly, without a single trace that it had once been there.
I can see his eyes go glassy from the nicotine high, his shrouded eyes have barely left me. He stares at me like I’m a caged panther; cunning, dangerous, volatile. All things I might have been if I could possibly think straight. “You’ll get your water after you cooperate.” He shifts in the chair slightly, flicking the used cigarette butt to the side. It falls to the ground unceremoniously and I can only imagine how often he flings those things haphazardly and how many thousands he has personally littered into our environment. I’m instantly seething again. A moment ago, I had no capacity for anything really, and now I’m filled head to toe with rage towards this stupid fucking cop. This man withholding my fucking water, my fucking life source.
The thought that he’s actually killing me passes and I pull at the cuffs around my wrists. “Fucking water.” The chains scrape across the table and I can feel the blood on my mouth, my lips have definitely cracked in multiple spots, blood pooling between my teeth. “I fucking need water!” Now I’m just shaking the chains, trying to make enough noise to get him to give in, annoy him into submission. “Water!” His eyebrow twitches, he seemingly has a very short tolerance for my behavior now, no longer amused by my sass and antics.
He quickly rises from the chair and kicks it to the side, it goes clattering against the wall and loudly falls to the ground, tipped on its side. The sudden jolt silences me and the room is tense with the lack of sound. “Who do you work for?!” He yells at me, full chested. The same question Eraser Head asked me in the alley. Where my allegiances lie. There’s another moment of silence before I bust into intense, manic laughter. They still really think I work for someone?
My throat threatens to give out on me, but I can’t control the laughter. “Me, motherfucker!” I shout back, only not as full, my voice is dying quickly, my laughter soon falling with it, replaced by a hacking cough that I’m pretty sure just shredded the dry skin inside my very dry throat. That doesn’t really seem to satisfy him though. He just grunts and picks the chair back up, setting it upright, but not sitting down in it like before. He just stands there, so tall and trying to be intimidating.
He crosses his arms over his chest and scoffs at me just once. “So we’re gonna keep playing this game, huh?” He pulls out another cigarette and huffs it down just as quickly as the first, barely even savoring the drag. His eyes close and he shrugs. “I guess you don’t want that water.” He quickly strides out of the room, leaving me alone and tortured. I can’t move, my body is giving out, I can’t speak because of my hoarse, abused throat, I can’t do anything at all, but sit here. My mind flashes back to when I felt this way before, tied to a dining chair in front of my drunk birther. My eyes start to water and I am amazed that I even have the moisture left in my body to cry. The parallels are too similar and I can feel myself reverting back, the whimpering that’s beginning in the back of my throat. A couple tears start to fall and I’m slowly slipping into that mindset when I hear the door open again.
I try my best to harden my face, trying to mask the depravity that I had just been wallowing in, refusing to make eye contact with Detective Aiko as he rounds the table again and sits in that chair. He sets something on the table and I’m surprised when I look up, to see Eraser Head sitting in that chair across from me instead. There’s a water bottle on the table and I honestly have nothing to say. I’m overwhelmed by this change of events and the tears come faster now, silently streaming down my face. I feel so vulnerable and this man that I have only prodded and teased is the one here to help me. It’s like the universe is laughing at me, it feels like a trick, but one I’m knowingly and willingly letting myself fall into. I suck in a deep breath, hoping he won’t say anything about my tears. “They haven’t cleaned you up at all, have they?” His voice is low, but he honestly sounds concerned. I lamely shake my head, unable to tell him that I’ve been sitting strapped to this chair since the moment he left. He grunts shortly then stands, slowly grabbing the water bottle and cracking the lid open.
My tears lessen as I watch him, he’s looking at me like I’m a wounded animal and deep down I can’t blame him. All I’ve done since meeting him is lash out and hurt him. In spite of all that he reaches out to me slowly, the cold water bottle in one hand, the other gingerly gripping the side of my neck and tilting my head back. I look at him hesitantly. I’m just supposed to let him pour water into my mouth? That feels too weird, and intimate, and needy, but I can’t really pour the water into my own mouth, so I part my lips for him. He gently presses the rim of the water bottle onto my bottom lip, easing the cold, fresh water onto my sandpaper tongue. His fingertips graze the skin on my neck as the pad of his thumb softly wipes away my tears. It’s so gentle and intimate that I can’t help but cry harder. I’ve never felt such a sincere caress and it’s like my heart is breaking into a million pieces, astounded by the tenderness that I haven’t allowed myself to even realize I was missing. The silent resentment falling away for a moment and letting something new replace it. Adoration? Sympathy? Genuine gratitude?
I take in this new feeling hesitantly as I try to gulp down the water as quickly as he’s pouring it into my mouth. I relish in the feeling of the cool liquid on my tongue and into the back of my throat, soothing the burning I had endured for so long. The tears continue to fall even after the water bottle is empty and I realize his hand is still gently stroking my cheek in an attempt to calm my tears. He tosses the empty water bottle aside and peers down at me. I stare back up at him, my eyes starting to puff up from the tears I had just shed, cloudy with the residual moisture on my lashes. He’s even more beautiful now than ever before, caring for me so tenderly, and I think I understand now. I love him. I must love him. The way I was drawn to him before, it all makes sense. I’ve never felt anything like this before, no one has ever given me even a sliver of a second thought, but here he is. This man I don’t even know caring for a tortured criminal that’s done nothing, but awful things. It must be love. It must be... something at least.
I realize the moment’s been too long and I turn my gaze away, squeezing my eyes shut. I can’t help but feel embarrassed. Here he is helping me, giving me the water I so desperately needed and I can’t even choke out a ‘thank you’. Should I? Would he want me to? His hand falls away and I hear him start to shuffle to the door. Dammit. I’m breathing heavy, trying to catch my breath from the way I gulped down water like a dying horse. “I’m going to get a first aid kit.” I almost don’t hear him, but my eyes snap open. He’s coming back? To help me even more? Eraser Head is… going to tend my wounds… that I got fighting… HIM. This is all so bizarre and my head spins a little, but I can’t help the trace of a grin that tugs on my lips and the slight twinge of heat in my cheek.
I hear that knock on the door again, but before it opens I mumble out a small, drained. “Thank you.” My throat is still destroyed, but it’s enough that I hope he heard me. I guess I’ll never know if he did or even cared because the door opens and closes with no acknowledgment that I had said anything. Once again, I am left by myself, in this too bright room, strapped to a metal chair. As I sit here, it’s hard not to fall back into my miserable thoughts. Self loathing and what if’s come easily. What if that really was a trick? What if he’s never coming back? What if I just imagined the whole thing? What if he’s disgusted by me and just taking pity? I internally cringe at myself. That one is probably closest to the truth. He thinks of me like a charity case, someone who can’t help themselves. He’s a hero after all, that good ole savior complex will always rear it’s big, nasty head at some point. He’s helping me to make himself feel better, not to make me feel better. I sneer at myself. I almost fell into his trap, but no. I’m better than that. I was almost that dumb cunt I used to be, trusting people, needing others help. Fuck no. I promised myself I would never be that person again. I’m better now.
But then the indignation fades and all I’m left with is the reality of the situation. I do need his help. I’m broken and bleeding, strapped to a chair in an interrogation room. I start to cry again. It’s not a heavy cry, just one that makes you realize so much in such a short period of time. I cry as I realize I do need help. I need more help now than I’ve ever needed before. I’ve probably needed help this entire time and refused to see it, refused to ask for it. Asking for help never seemed like an option, it seemed like a burden. Yet, Eraser Head isn’t even offering me help, he’s giving it. Willingly. Of his own accord.
I continue to struggle with my thoughts on the situation far longer than I would deem necessary before I admit to myself it doesn’t matter because he’s simply not coming back. It’s been too long for him to have actually been going to get a first aid kit. He’s gone forever now. Poof. Might as well stop thinking about him. I can’t though. Can’t stop thinking about his perfect face, the way he touched my neck, the tenor of his voice, the scruff on his chin, the scar under his eye, the heat of his body behind mine. It all sends a thrill through me, but more than that, just a deep sense of longing. I yearn for him. I just want him to come back to me, I don’t care if he has the first aid kit he left for or not. I just want him to be present with me because everything just hurts less when he’s here. The open wounds mean nothing when he’s here. He’s the only reason any of my pain has ever been eased. I need him. I love him.
I start to allow fresh tears to fall, but my eyes are already welded shut from the fat tears I had shed earlier, too heavy to open and crusted over with dried tears because I still can’t wipe my eyes. The new ones gently come and allow me to crack open my eyes just slightly. I’m honestly on the brink of exhaustion, but my body has miraculously found a way to push forward. I’m taking a deep breath, trying to re-center myself. Get a grip on reality. Stretch my fingers and toes, get some feeling back in my aching body, crack my neck as best as I can. It’s not much, but it helps. I’m the only one that can do anything for me now. I start trying to survey the room to a closer extent than I had before, but honestly it’s still the same, too bright, all white room. I guess I can see a vent in the top right corner, but it’s too small for me to even think about escaping from. Not to mention, I can’t see a camera, so it must be in the corner behind me, watching, recording my every move. I grumble. There’s also the two way mirror, that I assume has had at least three people on the other side of it at all times. I’m completely under thumb.
I sigh, there’s not much I can do in this situation, and this dumb collar is still canceling my quirk. I’m chained up and defenseless. Fucking great. The door scrapes open again and I startled to see Eraser Head quickly invade the room, that wild look in his eyes again. The tips of his hair are flicking back and forth angrily, but not like it was before when he was erasing my quirk, more like… he’s just worked up. He’s breathing deeply, standing up straight and crossing his arms, a full 180 from his calm, gentle demeanor he had earlier. He’s actually quite intimidating like this and I start to shrink into myself, not knowing why his mood has changed. I didn’t do anything. He looks to the door and reaches out to flick his wrist in a ‘get the fuck over here’ motion. Detective Aiko comes into the room and unlocks my cuffs, releasing my arms from the table. He seems reluctant and I’m insanely confused by this sudden turn of events. My eyes are wide and I look to Eraser Head again, confusion evident on my twisted up face. “I’m taking you to the hospital. The collar will stay on and I will cuff you down when we get there.” He says it all so blankly and I’m even more confused that I was before he answered.
Detective Aiko doesn’t look up, he just grumbles out a gruff, ‘bad fucking idea’ before moving onto the straps at my torso, allowing me to pull away from the chair just a little bit. I struggle to force my muscles to keep myself upright, wanting to slump over and crumple to the floor. He undoes the one at my lap and I barely feel it because my entire bottom half has gone numb at this point. He lowers down further and unlocks the cuffs at my ankles, fully freeing me from the chair. I’m immediately elated to be liberated once again, getting overzealous and springing from the chair. Blood rushes to my head and my numb legs remind me how bad of an idea that is because I tip forward, falling into the metal table, the wind knocked from my lungs. I let out a wheeze and feel strong hands pull me back up onto my feet from my shoulders.
Eraser Head wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me flush to his hip to support my weight. I can feel his hero muscles swell as he pulls me off the table, shifting so we can shuffle towards the door. I’m still dazed and weak, trying to work with his movements instead of against them, but my legs can barely hold myself up and he ends up dragging me along with him more than anything else. My head is right next to his shoulder, tucked tight to his body and I press myself closer, nuzzling my cheek onto his collarbone. He feels so good against me. I’m so woozy, I feel like I’m dreaming. This all could be a mirage, I am dehydrated as hell. But it feels so real and so good that I just submit to it immediately. I press even further, trying to get up to his neck. Trying to be closer. The moment crashes around me in an instant as cuffs fall around my wrists. Damn. It’s Detective Aiko standing behind me, cuffing my wrists together and ruining the moment I was just having with Eraser. I glare up at him and he just ignores me, squeezing the cuffs tighter, too tight. I yelp, but he just looks over to Eraser Head like, ‘Really?’. Eraser grunts and holds his hand out for the key, he still has that wild look in his eye and I realize now that it’s pointed at Detective Aiko. HE’s in the doghouse, not me. Well, I am still arrested, but it doesn’t really feel like it when Eraser Head is personally escorting me to the ER, cuffs or no cuffs. Detective Aiko drops the key into his outstretched hand with an eyeroll.
Eraser Head spins me around, so I’m facing forward. My head is still dizzy, but my legs are starting to get some feeling back and I’m able to stand on my own now, even if I am a bit wobbly. He pulls me close to him again, gripping my bicep with one hand and supporting my weight with a hand on my hip. He’s taller than I remember him being. Glancing over my shoulder, I have to look up at him. His jaw is set, clenched with the anger he’s trying to hold back, silently seething. He’s still eyeing Detective Aiko with a menacing nature, I know his quirk is eye related, but it seems he also has a natural affinity for staring anyways. I watch him tuck the key into his front pocket, then grip my arm again, his hands are so large. I gulp, now realizing my ass is basically pressed up to his hip. He’s still taller than me, it's more like his thigh, but that doesn’t change the fact that my ass is on this man. My mind goes crazy as he holds me there, having some kind of stare down with Aiko. Neither of them has moved, but after a moment the detective shifts back with a grumble. Eraser Head grunts and guides me forward, supporting me as we exit the interrogation room.
Eyes follow us as Eraser Head leads me out of the room and down the hall. The receptionist at the front desk gasps when she sees me walking (semi) free. I can tell they all know who I am. I can tell they’re all scared of me. I don't need my quirk for that. I take advantage of the tense scene before me and grin, lurching forward at the woman sitting at the desk. Eraser Head is still gripping me firmly, so I don’t make it very far before he yanks me back to his body, but I do make it far enough to scare that bitch gawking at me. She screams and drops the phone receiver in her hand, stumbling backwards. I didn’t really expect such a dramatic reaction, did she really think I was gonna rip her head off or something? I’m fucking handcuffed… and doesn’t she fucking work at the police station? She should be used to this by now, why is she so fucking scared? Dramatic bitch.
Eraser Head pushes me forward, obviously still riled up from previous events. I stumble forward a bit, but his grip on me is so firm I couldn’t fall if I wanted to. We continue walking through the waiting lobby, until we reach two large glass doors. Outside the doors, it’s day time, probably late afternoon by the look of the sunlight. I take a deep breath, ready to take a step out those doors, ready to leave this awful fucking place, full of these awful fucking people. Eraser presses the handicap button and the door swinging open, the air is warm as we step out and it’s a little joy in this shitty situation that I bask in for a moment. When we step onto the sidewalk, I look up at Eraser Head. This protective stance, the hand on my hip, if I just ignore the handcuffs it’s like we’re a couple on a stroll. I smile up at him, thinking about how sweet he looks with his hair catching the late afternoon light. It’s golden hour and it settles on him nicely, highlighting his stark features. His eyes flick down to me and an expression of genuine surprise passes his face for a split second. He looks away quickly, a blush coating his cheeks, but his face returns to its stoic default.
We continue like this for a moment until we come up on his vehicle. I’m not sure what I expected, but a small wave of sadness washes over me as he opens the rear door, shoving me into the backseat. I didn’t really think he would put me in the front with him, but this feels so… impersonal. I guess that’s what we are. Impersonal. I mean, I don’t even know his last name. I slouch into the black leather of the car and pout to myself, feeling defeated. Eraser Head buckles me into the seat, leaning over me with his whole, big body. Heat floods my stomach and suddenly I’m feeling something… else. I huff, breathing in his scent, I can still smell the bergamot on him, but the other scent on him still eludes me. It’s sweet and musky, almost earthy. He pulls away before I can breathe in again, shutting the door on me, boxing me into this car alone again. He’s in the driver’s seat about 4 seconds later, but the silence of being alone again still stands out to me. I shake my head, and try to focus on the sounds of the car as he roars the engine to life and pulls out of the parking lot.
Thank you for reading! :)
I love reading yall’s comments so please leave a note for me! (see that double entendre hehe im so smart) 
but seriously, thanks for the love and the followers especially for only one fic
(also I hope u all can tell how much I fucking despise the cops for this chapter)
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just-a-creep-babe ¡ 5 years ago
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Fanboy (Jeff the Killer and BEN Drowned)
Thank you @scrollypoly for commissioning this!! They’re always so fun to write I’m 🥺💕💘💖💗💞💓💗 Also you mentioned both characters and I just?? Couldn’t choose??? So I did smthg for both and I’m sorry if this is way too long shdjdjdjdkfkcjfhdjfidof
~Requests are closed~ 
Masterlist: x
Jeff the Killer
Jeff clicks on the refresh button
Nothing
He clicks it again
Still nothing
With a sigh like a low groan, he checks the time at the bottom of the screen
10:04 pm
You‘re late
Your show should’ve started four whole minute ago
He runs his fingers through coarse black hair, brows furrowing
“What the fuck”
He‘s already hard, having worked himself up at the thought of seeing you again, but just to worsen the anticipation, you‘re making him wait
Refresh refresh refresh
10:09 pm
He scrolls down to the chat
At least he’s not the only one getting impatient
He can’t but scowl at the loads of messages popping up, each and every one of them absolutely reeking of horny entitlement
As if those creeps could ever stand a chance with someone like you
Not that he‘s any different, but at least he isn’t half as brain dead as most of them
By 10:11 pm, he thinks maybe something isn’t right
He convinces himself to wait six more minutes before he really can’t take it anymore
People in the chat are starting to leave
Others are getting upset
How badly he‘d love to drive his knife across their throats—slowly and painfully, to watch their measly lives flicker out before him
They don’t fucking deserve you
He snarls a curse under his breath
He doesn’t want to resort to this, but he very badly needs to see you
So he grabs his knife, comforted by the way his fingers curl around the hilt, and then he’s getting up and shoving out of his room
Up the basement stairs and then up another flight of stairs, he finally finds himself in front of an all-too familiar door, closed shut with nothing but a faint light glowing from the bottom
His knuckles rasp against tinted wood
“Put it in your pants, I need help with something”
It’s all the warning he provides before barging in
The blond, as per usual, is sitting at his desk, legs crossed on his chair with a controller between his button-mashing hands
He hardly offers a glance at his intruder and smirks
“Shouldn’t I be taking it out of my pants if you want help?”
Jeff has to hold himself back from smacking him upside the head
“I need you to find someone’s address and then bring me to it”
BEN snorts
“Why should I?”
The scarred man folds his arms over his chest, brows quirking expectantly
“Remember that favor you owe me?”
He watches, admittedly gloating in self-satisfaction, as the other’s face reddens and the smirk‘s wiped from his mouth
“You, uh, you have their username?”
A few minutes is all it takes to find you, but the first try to hack into your computer isn’t successful
BEN pops out of the internet with a shrug, explaining how he can’t access your pc and that it’s probably broken
So they go through your phone instead
You’re in a room with a familiar bed and backdrop, which Jeff recognizes immediately
What, or who, he doesn’t recognize is the guy you’re with—who looks to be around your age and caught up in some kind of argument with you
Whoever he is, he’s yelling furiously and gesturing at a shattered laptop off to the side
The sound is warped through the screen
He can’t make out the argument, but the fact that the bastard has the nerve to talk to you like that has Jeff’s blood boiling
“Welp, good luck with that”
A harsh smack on the back fused with a static jolt shoves him out the screen
The transition from virtual to material existence has his ears ringing and the world spinning around him as he shakily tries to pull himself up
But then his eyes lock onto the fucker that was harassing you
And he sees red
He charges at him, knocking him to the ground and with a satisfying whack of the back of his knife straight to his temple—the body goes limp
Rage and adrenaline pump through his system
But then he hears you gasp, and it stops him dead in his tracks
Slowly, he tilts his head, bringing his full attention towards you
You‘re beautiful on camera, but god, you‘re absolutely ethereal in person
He almost can’t believe how good fear looks on you
There’s a pause, predator staring down prey, and then you’re bolting
But you can’t even make it through the door before he catches you arm, spinning you to face him and slamming you into the wall
One hand has your wrists pinned above your head, the other holding the sharp blade to your neck
The warmth of your body squirming beneath him, the beat of your heart thrumming against his chest—it’s exhilarating
He’s done this millions of times before, but it’s different with you
And he’s already addicted 
“P-please… please don’t hurt me”
Dark eyes roam over your features, taking you all in—and you shrink beneath his consuming gaze
“Mmh, don’t worry, Princess. I’m not gonna hurt you”
He presses the blade harder into you, continuing with a deep, naturally menacing hum
“Not if you don’t do anything stupid. After all, I‘d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours~”
He leans in closer, and his breath warm against your cheek
You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling his strong build nearly crushing your smaller one
He’s like a wall of muscle
It’s suffocating
“And I’d hate for you to lose the confidence to perform your little show anymore~”
The blood drains from your face at the mention of your show
He pushes the blade deeper into your throat and you feel his groin stir at the sound you make
Such a cute little whimper~
“Please”
Your voice is quiet and small and shaky
His chest rumbles with a deep, appreciative hum in response
All those times he watched you, dreaming of having you beneath him—and now here you are, so perfectly trapped and already begging
You’re his
No one else could ever have you
“Don’t worry, Princess, I‘ll treat you right. I won’t let any fucking creep push you around or perv on you anymore. You’re all mine now, princess~” 
BEN Drowned
You’re completely unaware of how he watches you behind the screen
You take a seat on your bed, adjusting the camera, and then with the few presses of a button, you’re going live
Almost as soon as you do, Th1cc-M4st3r-Sw0rd-B01 immediately donates with the request of a private show
You chuckle, promising to come back later to the other viewers, and accept the invite to a private server
“Hey Benny Boo~”
You give him a teasing wink as his camera connects
He’s in his usual setup
His room is so dim you can hardly see anything, as per usual
All that’s visible is the lower portion of his face, revealing his mouth and cut jawline, along with his torso
He’s man-spreading on his chair, which also grants you a good view of the bulge in his pants at the bottom of the screen
“Hey, baby~”
He’s wearing his signature smirk, one arm thrown over the top of his chair, leaning back comfortably
“You have a good day at work?”
He tilts his head to the side playfully, and there’s something secretive in his amused grin, like he knows something you don’t
You pout
“It was boring, like usual. I just wanted to get home so I could finally have some fun~”
His teeth sink into his lip as you trace a finger between your breasts, and he hums appreciatively
“You know, you don’t have to work, (y/n). I already told you I could easily provide for you”
“Ha. And then what would I be doing all day long instead?”
He leans in, pearly whites gleaming through a shit-eating grin
“You’d entertain me~”
You roll your eyes and shake your head
“I doubt even you wouldn’t get bored of that. Besides, I don’t want the entire source of my income to rely on one stranger from the internet”
His lips part in feigned shock
“Oh? So I’m a stranger now?”
You cross your arms over you chest
Always with the games
“I’ve never even seen your face, of course you’re a stranger”
He lies back in his chair, contemplating
“Hm... I’ll show you my face if you give me your number~”
You run your fingers through your hair
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked for this kinda stuff—a connection to your private life, and while his offers were admittedly tempting, you weren’t sure you could trust him
There was just something strange and mysterious about him, despite his charms, and it unnerved you sometimes
“How am I supposed to trust you?”
He groans
“C’mon, babe. What do I have to hide? Why would I possibly betray you?”
You shrug, trying to keep things playful
“Dunno. Maybe that’s how you make all your money, by blackmailing camgirls and poor saps who just don’t know any better”
He gasps through the grin dancing on his lips
“You wound me, baby~ Is it really that hard to have faith in little old me?”
You shake your head again, but can’t help laughing
Suggestively biting your lip is all it takes to have him stirring in his seat again
His tongue swipes out at his own bottom lip and you can tell he’s craving the taste of yours
“Maybe if you showed me your face, I’d consider trusting you in the long run...”
You tilt your head, toying with the lace of your lingerie
“Mmh, maybe another day”
His voice is husky
You can feel his eyes, even despite the shadows draping over them, roam up and down your body, taking in every inch of you, mapping you out by sight alone
So you slowly work yourself up, teasing at your sides, your collarbone, then down over your chest and back between your breasts
“What else would it take for that number?” he murmurs, one hand palming himself through his pants, matching your slow, borderline torturous pace
“Why do you want it so bad?” you retort, voice a breathy hum
“Because I wanna see you more often, (y/n). And if you really can’t trust me, I wanna be able to work something out”
You thumb over your nipples, grinding your hips down onto nothing, trying to keep an innocent expression like you aren’t about to touch yourself and get him off to it
“Like what?”
“Meet up with me. We’ve known each other long enough, haven’t we?”
You know you shouldn’t agree
But maybe it‘s because you’re tense and horny, and you really are attracted to him, and you haven’t been getting nearly enough action recently
Or maybe you’re just sick of routine and want to try something different, something daring
Whatever it is, in a split-second decision, you find yourself agreeing
His face lights up with a grin
“Perfect~”
You spend the rest of the private show making arrangements to meet—in a public place, of course, before his time begins to near its end
“I’ll be seeing you there, babe~” he hums
His smirk never once falters
“Wait, I still don’t know what you look like”
He chuckles
“Don’t worry, you’ll know it’s me”
He reaches for his mouse, but his hand hovers over it for a second
“Don’t stand me up and you’ll have nothing to worry about~”
Then with a final click, he’s disconnected and you’re left facing a blank screen
A shiver crawls up your spine
You close the tab and get up off your bed
You need a shower
You’ll deal with your other viewers later
As you ready a change of clothes, BEN continues to watch you, reveling in your blissful ignorance of his prying eyes
He didn’t need your number and he didn’t need you to meet up with him
He could whisk you away at any whim and you’d be powerless to stop him
But he enjoyed this little game he played with you, and he’d promised himself he’d try to ease you into things before claiming you
Meeting up would grant him the perfect opportunity to gauge what you’d be like when he finally took you
But one way or another, you’d be ending up in his arms
You were already as good as his~
452 notes ¡ View notes
aliendes ¡ 4 years ago
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Natural Borns - Chapter Four
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Banner made by @thebannershop​
Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, (possible) smut NSFW due to darker themes
Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)
Warnings: mentions of sadness, indecent thoughts? maybe, if you squint. it gets a little steamy, I suppose, but mostly just fluffy sadness, if that’s a thing. This series will have different trigger warnings listed for each chapter (if there are any), but as a whole, this series will include violence, mentions of depression & other mental illnesses, cursing, abuse, drugs/alcohol, some shitty medical descriptions because i am NOT a doctor, self-esteem issues, fluff, and possible smut in future chapters (but that’s undecided). i will add more warnings/tags in the future if there are any.
Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?
Word count: 8k~ (whoops so sorry. if you like longer chapters like this, let me know!)
A/N: *deep breath* ok here is chapter 4. things are starting to heat up, but i cut this chapter in two because it was like over 12k long.... i go back to work tomorrow, so updates may start slowing down, but i’m hoping to post updates every Sunday night. i was feeling a little bit bogged down last week, not seeing as much influx with chapter three than i have with the other chapters. if you enjoy reading, please reblog so others can see it, too. thank you, as always. xx - Des
Updated: 8/9/2020
But the second he took one look at you, standing outside, wet and bloody, saw the look in your big beautiful eyes as he so heartlessly demanded things from you, he knew he stood no chance. 
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Yoongi sat in his makeshift office on an old torn recliner they found in the warehouse. Surprisingly, the warehouse had been decently furnished when they found it. Granted, it was all old, worn furniture, but furniture nonetheless. The building was incredibly old, but it was also very large and had a lot of empty rooms on two levels. The entire place was made out of concrete, meaning it hasn’t seen much weathering over the years. It was a place they could call home for now. 
Yoongi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and stared at his beloved laptop in front of him. He wasn’t trying to think about you, no, in fact, he wanted nothing more than to erase the memory of you. Try all he might, his thoughts kept wandering back to the scared, small girl he saw earlier tonight. He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes, letting his head loll back. 
The blonde man was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of footsteps outside his door. He picked his head up and spun around in his seat right as Hoseok came through the doorway. 
“Hey,” Hoseok said, leaning against the doorframe, “I heard they found her.” His tone was indifferent, not happy, nor sad. Hoseok didn’t really have an opinion on you yet, voicing to Namjoon he didn’t really mind either way if they found you or not.
“Have you seen her yet?” Yoongi asked the red head knowing he hadn’t, as his demeanor would’ve changed the moment he did.
Hoseok shook his head, confirming Yoongi’s suspicions. “Good,” was all Yoongi said in response.
Hoseok gave him a puzzled look, cocking his head to the side. A bright grin started to take over his face as he took in the disgruntled look on Yoongi’s. “Are you letting her get under your skin that quickly, Yoongs?” He asked the older man in a teasing voice. “Is that why you’re hiding away while they fix her up?”
Yoongi’s blonde head snapped up at Hoseok’s words. “What do you mean ‘fix her up’?”
Hoseok’s smile started to slowly fade from his face, leaving a knowing smirk in its place. “She was pretty banged up from what Jungkook said. Poor boy was distraught when he came running into my room earlier.” Hoseok watched Yoongi’s face closely as his lips pursed into a thin line and he tried to act as if he didn’t care about you. Hoseok could see right through him.
Yoongi tried to keep his breathing steady and stared Hoseok right in the eye. “Who cares,” he shrugged as he turned back around in his chair and started typing away at his laptop. 
“Who cares?” Hoseok asked rhetorically, “I think you do.” The red head walked over to Yoongi’s chair and put his hands on the back of it, pulling it down a bit so he could look into Yoongi’s eyes. He raised a questioning brow at the hacker, waiting for some kind of response.
“I don’t care about her,” he scoffed, “I don’t even know her.” Yoongi looked away from Hoseok as he spoke, knowing his closest friends would be able to see his lie. He didn’t want it to be a lie, what he was saying he wanted wholeheartedly to be true, but he knew it wasn’t. Why did he care about you? He really didn’t know you. But as Hoseok chuckled and walked away from the chair with a breathy ‘yeah right’, Yoongi’s thoughts just drifted to you.
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“Please stay still,” Jin pleaded with you for the third time. You were currently laying on what you assumed was his bed while he took a look at all your wounds. He was looking at your bruised, and possibly fractured, according to him, ribs. It was painful and you weren’t sure how he expected you to stay completely still. 
You had been laying here for the last twenty minutes, staring up at the ceiling, going over your conversation with Namjoon prior to letting Jin take a look at your wounds. You had learned that the five of them had been staying here for the last three weeks. They stumbled upon the place when exploring the surrounding forest. It was devoid of life, but a lot of furniture and supplies had been left from workers or from kids who threw parties here in the past. They made it into a base of sorts, where they could live and work. Work, you learned, was mostly Yoongi trying to hack into Big Hit’s, and other companies, systems, while Namjoon dealt with contacting people and said companies to get more information. Apparently, they had found out about you through Jimin, who had overheard some of the lab techs talking about a female natural born living on the outskirts of Seoul. You still weren’t certain what exactly made you all ‘special’, but Namjoon had said it had something to do with the markers in your DNA that made you desirable to these designer baby companies.
Namjoon had also told you that they were planning on going to Big Hit soon, in hopes of getting Jimin and Taehyung out. As they helped you limp to Jin’s room, he told you that he and Jungkook were going to help Yoongi and Hoseok with the planning tonight, and told you to get some rest.
When you first got to Jin’s room, you were pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness of it. For an old warehouse, they really tried to make it feel homey. Seokjin’s room was small and looked like it used to be some kind of office or file room. There was a small double mattress in the corner, which you were currently laying on, a small desk on the opposite side of the room, a small wooden end table, and a couple of backpacks and duffle bags laying about. While everything in the room looked old and worn down, it still smelled nice. It smelled like Jin, like pine and soap. Speaking of soap…
“Hey - how do you guys have lights and running water here?” You were curious, previous experiences made you think this place was totally abandoned. 
Jin looked up from poking at your ribs, “Oh - Yoongi. He was able to get the electric and water companies to turn stuff on under a fake name,” he trailed off after noticing the apprehensive look on your face, “I know it’s not the most ethical way to go about things, but we don’t really have much of a choice right now.” The solemn look on his face told you that he regretted their actions, but truly had no other choice. 
You nodded at his answer and jumped a bit when he went back to putting cream on your ribcage. “Please - stay still YN.”
“Sorry, sorry. It just hurts,” you groaned out and he finished his work. Jin let out a short sigh before pulling your shirt back down your torso. He picked up one of your hands and started to unravel the bandages to clean and rebandage it. 
“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quick,” he gave you a quick smile and gently ran the back of his knuckles along your bicep. You tried to ignore the way his action made you feel, he was just trying to comfort you, right? He was a caring person, and he probably just felt bad seeing you in pain. That’s what you told yourself anyway.
You went back to staring at the ceiling, biting the inside of your cheek and Jin disinfected your cuts and scrapes. The feeling of his hands on you leaving you confused. 
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Once Seokjin had finished tending to your wounds, he gave you an old t-shirt and some sweatpants to change into before giving you a little privacy. After you had changed, you hobbled back over to the mattress and sat down. You stared around his room for a moment, finally letting the events of the day sink in.
You inhaled a deep breath as you thought back to everything that had happened. In just a few short hours, you had met these strange men who took you out to a forest and made you question your entire existence, witnessed your father make some kind of deal or exchange with a man who was likely trying to take you away, and ran away from your life, your family, and your friends. You didn’t even know who you could trust anymore, aside from probably Mina and Woo, but who knew when, or if, you would ever see them again. The thought alone made tears prick at the back of your eyes. You looked up to the ceiling to try and stop the hot tears from falling, to no avail. What were you getting yourself into?
As you felt a tear roll down your cheek, you heard a knock at the heavy door of Jin’s room. Quickly, you wiped the back of your hand at your face with a sniffle, before telling whoever was knocking to come in. 
To your surprise, it was Jungkook who walked through the door, not Jin or Namjoon like you had expected. You blinked owlishly up at him for a moment as he shut the door and ventured into the room. He took a few steps in your direction, hands behind his back, and looked even more shy than you had seen him earlier. 
“H-hey, noona?” He timidly asked, eyes locked on the floor.
Your eyes softened at his hesitancy. You made a sound of affirmation, urging him to continue speaking. Slowly he brought his hands from behind him back and extended them in your direction. He was holding a water bottle and a container of what looked like pain relievers. “Jin-hyung wanted me to tell you to take two of these,” he started, walking towards you with his hands outstretched like he was feeding a tiger, “and to drink the whole bottle.” 
You gave Jungkook a small smile as you took his offering. He seemed so sweet in that moment, you couldn’t stop yourself, “Jungkook?” Your voice made the poor boy jump a little, but he relaxed as soon as he saw your smile. His big doe eyes somehow got slightly bigger as he nodded his head at you. “How old are you?” You asked him, head cocked to the side.
“Twenty two,” he said easily. He’s only a year younger than you, it was odd to you he was so timid, almost childlike at times. You hummed in approval. You truly did want to get to know these men, and Jungkook seemed like such a sweet guy. He was shy, but you could tell he had a kind soul. You wondered what had happened to him to make him so quiet. You hoped you would find out with time. You had a sort of affinity toward him. Maybe it was because he had literally carried you through a forest without so much as a complaint. You weren’t entirely sure. 
The boy hesitated for a moment before turning around to walk out of the room. Just as he was about to reach the doorknob, he stopped and turned around to face you. “Noona?” His voice was so small, you almost asked him to repeat himself. Instead, you made a noncommittal noise, urging him to continue. “How old are you?” You wanted to coo at how cute Jungkook looked right now. Cheeks rosy, head slightly cocked to the side, eyes wide with mirth, almost like he was thankful for a reason to speak to you. 
You gave the boy a bright smile before answering, “Twenty three.”
Jungkook stared at you for just a second longer, before nodding once and leaving the room.
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“Who the fuck is Pearl?” 
Hoseok shrugged his shoulders, not even looking up from the game he was playing on his phone. 
“Are you even listening to me Hobi?” Yoongi was aggravated, to say the least. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jungkook brought you to their base last night and he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep. Namjoon brought him your phone, asking him to remove data from it so it couldn’t be tracked. He did so immediately, but the damn thing was burning a whole in the back of his head while he tried to sleep on the old, black leather couch in his room. Eventually, he got up from tossing and turning, and decided - against his better judgement - to look through the device. He knew it was wrong, knew it was a huge invasion of privacy, but he didn’t particularly care for you. Besides, he was curious, who could blame him?
The red head, currently sitting upside down on Yoongi’s couch, just huffed in response. Yoongi just rolled his eyes and spun around in the old, squeaky rolling chair. He had your phone open on his desk. It was early in the morning now, he figured you and the rest of the boys, aside from Hoseok, were probably still asleep. Hoseok tended to be an extremely early riser, yet still went to bed late at night. Yoongi never understood how he had so much energy with so little sleep.
Yoongi had already looked through your apps and photos. You didn’t have any social media that he could tell. Your apps were incredibly boring, just a few games and a notepad app that he found some of your notes on. Mostly things like grocery lists and dreams that you had. Nothing too interesting. Your photos weren’t very exciting either, mostly pictures of trees and fruit. You had some photos of your mom and dad and a couple of animals he assumed were yours. You seemed to live a pretty boring life, based on what was on your phone. The cynical side of him wanted to tell himself this meant you were a boring person, but he knew that was an unfair assumption.
The last thing Yoongi decided to snoop through, were your text messages. While he hadn’t found much there, aside from conversations with your mom, dad, and a group chat with someone named “Mina” and “Woo”, he did notice how everyone seemed to refer to you as ‘Pearl’. Aside from when your mother called you by your name yesterday, you were almost always referred to as Pearl. This piqued Yoongi’s interest, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe this was evidence as to why the others shouldn’t trust you? It’s a simple nickname, but Yoongi was suspicious of you from the beginning. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew he was looking for reasons to hate you, to make the others hate you. 
Yoongi nearly jumped straight out of his skin when the door to his room was swung open with such ferocity it slammed into the wall. Hoseok jumped straight up from the couch and Yoongi nearly fell out of his chair at the noise. “Jesus kid!” Yoongi yelled as he righted himself.
Jungkook had the graciousness to look ashamed as he entered the elder’s room. “Sorry hyung, I- I didn’t mean to,” he murmured without meeting the eyes of his older friends. 
Hoseok sighed and relaxed a bit before pushing a hand through his bright locks and announcing he was going to ‘find something better to do’. Jungkook nodded at him as he left and took Hoseok’s previous spot on the couch. Yoongi surveyed Jungkook as he sat down. He looked tired, like really tired. He could see the small bags forming under the youngest’s eyes, a purple tint to his nearly perfect skin. Yoongi also noticed how skinny the kid was looking these days. He narrowed his eyes at the boy, “You doing ok, kid?”
Jungkook lowered his head into his hands and rested them on his knees, shaking his head back and forth slightly, “No hyung. I- I miss them,” Yoongi could hear the tears that were threatening to fall. He always did have a soft spot for Jungkook. He rose from his seat and sat down gingerly next to Kook on the couch, making the leather creaked beneath him, and slung his arm around the dark haired boy.
“I know, I miss them too. We all do,” he bagan, running a soothing hand up and down Jungkook’s upper arm, “we will get them back, Jungkook. I promise.” Jungkook lifted his head and looked at his hyung, eyes glazed over. He believed him, he really did, he just missed his best friends. 
Jungkook nodded his head as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Yoongi thumbed at the younger’s lip sweetly, prompting him to release it. He knew Jungkook’s stress, he understood it. He missed the twins too, and he was working his hardest to get them back. Soon. He could feel it. 
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Last night had gone about as well as you thought it would. After Jungkook left you alone, Jin never returned to his room. You took the painkillers they offered you, but you thought for sure someone would be back to check on you, and you didn’t feel comfortable enough to wander around the place. You also felt a little bad for taking Jin’s bed when he had been so gracious to you. So after a while of waiting - and mentally hoping - for someone to walk in, you tried your hardest to fall asleep, to no avail. You tossed and turned in Jin’s small bed for what felt like hours, but you didn’t really know how long it had been. There was no clock in the room, you didn’t have your phone, and there were no windows. You guessed you finally fell asleep sometime in the early morning and had a very short, fitful rest before Jin was coming in to wake you.
“YN?” You heard Seokjin’s soft voice from the doorway. You blearily blinked away sleep as you tried to fully regain consciousness. As you rolled over in bed to face the door, you saw Jin standing there with a plate of something that smelled absolutely delicious. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, but your stomach was beginning to rumble at the sight of food. You remembered the last time you ate anything was yesterday morning at breakfast.
Jin walked a little further into the room and sat down at the edge of the bed. He wanted to laugh at how entranced you were by the food in his hands, and at the erratic way your hair was sticking up. “Hungry?” He asked, arm outstretched towards you with the plate. You let out a small yawn and reached your arms above your head with a small pout. The large t-shirt you were wearing - Jin’s t-shirt - rode up slightly as you stretched and Jin thought you had to be the cutest thing he’s ever seen. As you finished your much needed stretch, you nodded your head with one eye open, taking the plate. 
“Thank you, I’m so hungry,” you mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. Jin’s plump lips upturned into a bright smile as you started to eat a piece of toast from the plate. “You’re able to cook here?”
“There’s a small kitchen,” Jin nodded as he spoke, “it looks like it was an old staff lounge or something? We aren’t entirely sure what this building used to be, but it seemed like some people used to live here. There were beds, couches, even an old television when we got here.”
Now, feeling a little more awake, you nodded along with Jin, “Where do you get the food?” 
Seokjin didn’t even miss a beat before answering, happy you were coming out of your shell a bit, “I go to the market at least once a week,” he smiled, “I take Jungkook with me sometimes…” he started to trail off a bit, looking away from your eyes, almost like he was embarrassed. “That’s actually how we found you.”
You stopped chewing, mid-bite of scrambled egg, “Found me?” You mumbled, mouth full. 
Jin nodded, looking bashful, “Jimin told us he overheard people at the lab talking about a girl, a natural born living in this town. We honestly didn’t think we would find you here,” Seokijn rubbed the back of his neck as he continued, still avoiding your gaze, “We came out here and found this warehouse, it ended up being perfect for us to stay in,” as he continued his eyes finally met yours, he mentally noted how cute you looked, cheeks puffed out with food staring at him, “we needed food, so me and Jungkook went to the market. When I saw you, I knew.”
Your stomach was doing flips at Seokjin’s admission, and you weren’t entirely sure why. They were harmless words, maybe even a little reassuring. They weren’t stalking you, they happened to stumble upon you. So you weren’t sure why you were suddenly feeling so shy. His words almost sounded like a love confession you would hear in a blockbuster movie about soulmates. You could feel your cheeks heat slightly as you finally swallowed the eggs. “What do you mean, you knew? I don’t remember seeing you, or talking to you,” you prodded for some more information.
For a moment, Jin just stared into your eyes, and you thought he wasn’t going to answer you. Then, his plush lips parted as he quietly murmured, “Well, YN, you’re breathtakingly beautiful. I hope you know that,” he never broke eye contact as he uttered his next words, “and now that I’ve gotten to know you more, I can say you have a beautiful soul, too.” You were reeling. Were you the female lead of this made for TV movie your head conjured up?
You stared back at Seokjin with wide, glazed eyes, lips slightly parted in shock. No one has ever said anything like that to you, aside from Mina telling you how beautiful you were and how jealous she was of your skin. Jin was gazing at you as if you were the only person in the world, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel incredible. You were high on his attention, you loved the way your stomach was erupting with butterflies. 
You were still seated on his bed, legs crossed and hands sitting in your lap, food forgotten next to you. Seokjin was still staring intently into your eyes, with an intensity you’ve never felt before. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand and went to lightly brush his knuckles against your cheek bone. The action made you flush, eyes closing at the soft feeling of his hand. Just as you were leaning into his touch, a soft smile on his lips, the door to his room opened, causing both of you to jump backwards, eyes shooting towards the person intruding on such an intimate moment. 
“Jin,” Namjoon looked slightly embarrassed, cheeks pink realizing what he walked into, “we need you in Yoongi’s room.” He bowed his head once at you both before turning on his heels and walking away. 
Seokjin cleared his throat and you found it endearing how his neck and ears were turning a beet red. “S-sorry,” he sputtered out, “I - I’ll be back in a little bit?” He sounded unsure as he scrubbed a hand down his face. You gave him a small smile and nodded, a little sad at the loss of companionship you were just starting to get used to. You couldn’t quite place the emotion you were feeling, but you knew it was nothing like the platonic friendship you felt for Woo or Mina. Jin stood up from his bed, making his way towards, before giving you some parting words, “I’ll have Jungkook come show you where the showers are.” 
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After your encounter with Jin this morning, you were reeling from the onslaught of emotions you were feeling. You weren’t given much time to think too much about it though, because once you finished your breakfast, Jungkook came to give you a short, and rather quiet, tour of the building. 
Like Seokjim promised, Jungkook showed you where the one bathroom was located, which looked more like a gym locker room than a bathroom. There were shower stalls, benches, and a couple of toilets and sinks along with a wall of lockers. It looked to be a changing room for employees of the mill. Jungkook had brought with him your black linen pants, washed by Jin according to him, and another large t-shirt. He didn’t want to admit it was his this time, and blushed fiercely as he handed them over to you, along with a clean towel.
Jungkook kindly showed you how to work the showers, helping you turn one on because of your hands. He also sweetly helped unwrap your hands and feet so you could properly shower and clean the cuts and scrapes. After he was done, he turned away, telling you he would wait on the benches for you to finish. As he was retreating, you reached out your hand to grab his forearm, “Wait - I- I can’t really lift my arms up,” you mumbled, warily looking up into his wide deer-in-headlights eyes, “can- can you help me?” You’ve never been shy about your body or nudity, but something about Jungkook seeing you nearly naked, made you feel like a shy teenager again. 
You thought Jungkook was about to spontaneously combust the way he was staring at you. His shoulders were squared and nearly meeting his ears, lips pursed into a tight line, and eyes the size of dinner plates. You almost laughed at his expression, but then remembered how awkward this situation was for the both of you.
“I- I - ye- yes,” Jungkook was a stuttering mess, but wanted to offer you his help regardless. He felt like he was on fire with the way his cheeks and neck were heating. Slowly, you retracted your hand from his forearm when you felt like he wasn’t about to bolt out of the room. Jungkook carefully reached for the hem and your shirt and you turned around so your back was facing him to make this all less embarrassing. The boy audibly gulped as he slowly pulled your shirt upwards removing it from your head first, pushing it towards your front. He stepped closer to you so there was barely an inch of space between your now bare back and his front. Reaching his arms around you, he gripped the shirt and slid it down your arms, removing it from you completely. His fingers ever so slightly brushed the skin on your arms and made a shiver run up your spine. Jungkook didn’t miss the way you let out a strangled breath, almost inaudible.
 He needed to cool off, quickly. 
You quietly thanked him, quickly covering your breasts with your arms, as he turned away still holding Jin’s shirt and made his way out of the bathroom without another word. 
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After your much needed shower you struggled to dress yourself, but you would rather cut off your own arm than go through the embarrassment of finding Jungkook to help you again. Once you were finally decent, you found Jungkook sitting on the benches outside of the shower room, just like he said he would be. He has visibly calmed down, now wearing a calm expression. When he noticed you walk into the room, he gave you a small smile. “Feel better?” 
You nodded enthusiastically, happy to feel clean again.
Next, Jungkook showed you the small kitchen that Jin spoke of earlier. It was more like a kitchenette, almost like an employee break room. It had a tiny refrigerator, cabinets that were filled with dry goods, a sink, and one electric burner. The building was so old, you were shocked to see the kitchen in such great condition. At the shocked look on your face, Jungkook told you that Jin really loved to cook and worked really hard to clean it up and keep it that way. Your face flushed at the reminder of the older man who was making your heart feel things just this morning. The thought of him caring so much about his kitchen, moving about in here cooking the delicious food you ate for breakfast, made your stomach twist in a pleasant way. 
The last place Jungkook showed you was a mostly empty room on the second floor of the building. He told you that they didn’t use the second story much, considering the state of disrepair of the place, they didn’t want to risk getting hurt up here. But this room, Jungkook told you, was his favorite place to hang out. It was a rectangular concrete room that had a large expanse of windows on the far  wall. Some of the windows were broken, allowing the breeze from outside to enter. In front of the windows sat a small tan sofa that looked like it had seen better days. Jungkook led you over to the windows, and you quickly realized why he liked this room so much. 
You could see the entire quarry from up here. It was beautiful. At the bottom of the quarry was water that took on an incredible aquamarine color, turning almost green in the sunlight. The water was completely still, no disruptions on the surface, making it look serene. Along the bank of water, there were lush, green bushes and trees swaying slightly in the wind. On the other side of the quarry, you could see a small patch of yellow and purple flowering plants. Along the steep sides of the cliffs, you could see the smooth surface of exposed marble. Over the years, the marble has become weathered and looked smooth to the touch. The late morning sun, high in the sky, was reflecting off of the stone in a way that made it sparkle. It was an incredible sight, and you were surprised you’d never seen it like this before, having been out here in the past. 
As you stood there, taking in the breathtaking scenery, Jungkook was taking in you. You had a look of mirth in your eyes, and he mentally patted himself on the back for bringing you up here. He took in your side profile, admiring your sharp features that looked as if they were carved from the very marble you were currently staring at. He loved the way your soft lips were forming a small pout, eyes focused on the sight in front of you. He didn’t realize he was grinning at you, until you turned around with a look of shock on your face.
A grin spread across your face as you saw Jungkook’s smile for the first time. It reminded you of a bunny, large front teeth on display for you to admire. You stood there for a moment, smiling at each other before you both started giggling. “Thank you for showing me this, Jungkook,” you crooned once the laughter had subsided. He just smiled at you in return before looking back out towards the quarry. You stayed in a comfortable silence after that, before Jungkook deemed it time to head back downstairs. 
Downstairs, Jungkook led you to a room that was right in the middle of the long hallway that contained all the other rooms. “This is Yoongi-hyung’s room,” he cautioned, hand on the door, “don’t worry, Joon-hyung told him to be nice,” he rushed out, seeing the fearful look on your pretty features. 
You were still uncertain, but nodded at Jungkook anyways, prompting him to open the door. Jungkook waited patiently for you to enter the room on your own with no pressure from him. You peeked around the corner to find the occupants of the room all staring right at you. You purse your lips into a tight line and avert your gaze to your newfound safe harbor, Seokjin, who was sitting on a black leather couch. His eyes softened at your uncomfortable look before scooting over to make room for you on the couch, patting the seat next to him, inviting you over. You hesitantly walked over and plopped down on the soft cushion.
Jin rubbed a large hand on your shoulder briefly to calm you down before placing both hands in his lap. As you felt yourself relax a bit, you took in your surroundings. Jungkook was still standing near the door, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He looked oddly stoic, shedding the shy persona he usually wore. The room was fairly large, or at least, larger than the rest of the rooms you’ve been in. Against the right wall was the black leather couch you and Jin were currently sat on, and to your right against the far wall were two arm chairs, one of which was occupied by Namjoon. Sat in a desk chair in front of what looked like an old corporate desk, was Yoongi, with multiple laptops and devices sprawled out in front of him. Leaning against the wall behind Yoongi was another man, one you didn’t recognize, but you assumed was Hoseok. He was staring intently at you. His expression was unreadable, not cold, but not welcoming either. He looked intense with bright red hair, a sharp jawline that looked like it could cut diamonds, dressed in all black. He was a little intimidating and not at all like the golden retriever type boy Namjoon had described to you last night.
As you took in the men around the room, you hadn’t noticed Yoongi and Namjoon discussing a possible plan to break the twins out of Big Hit. “Jimin said there might be a window of time where no one is around,” Yoongi scoffed, “but you remember what happened last time he said that.”
Namjoon nodded his head. Now you were listening intently to their conversation, as were the other men in the room. “We need to trust Jimin, Yoongs. He’s the one inside there, he sees what’s going on, we don’t,” Namjoon sighed, running his hands over his knees, apparently a self-soothing mechanism, “if you think you can get in and knock out the cameras, we might as well give it a shot. We will make sure we’re better prepared this time.” Namjoon seemed defeated. You weren’t sure what happened ‘last time’, but it didn’t sound good.
“It doesn’t matter how prepared we are, he was wrong about the window last time. By two hours. If he’s wrong again we could get caught, or killed,” Yoongi snapped, anger apparent in his eyes, “I’m not willing to risk you guys again.”
“What about her?” This time, it was the redhead who spoke. You hadn’t noticed his eyes on you throughout the entire conversation, assessing you.
“No!” Both Jin and Jungkook barked at the same time, making you jump in your seat. Jin set a soothing hand on your shoulder as you looked at him, and then at Hoseok with wide eyes. Jin shook his head aggressively before looking at Yoongi and Hoseok, “No way. She’s never been there, she would have no idea what to do. You’re not willing to risk one of us, but willing to risk her?” He snarled, you haven’t seen him angry before, and you were positive you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger. 
Over by the door, Jungkook had uncrossed his arms and was walking towards Yoongi’s desk. “You can’t send her in there, hyung,” he started, placing both hands palm down on the desk, “please.”
Yoongi looked up at the maknae with soft eyes before pursing his lips and sighing through his nose. Behind him, Hoseok raised his hands in surrender, “It was just a suggestion,” he sighed out passively, “we’ve all lived there at some point or another, they would recognize us immediately, just like last time.”
“They know her too. Hyunwoo has been scouting her for months, according to Jimin. We can’t let her go in there.” It was Namjoon who was being the voice of reason this time, causing both Jin and Jungkook to let out a collective sigh of relief. The five men continued to argue while you got lost in your thoughts. Hoseok wanted you to navigate Big Hit? Alone? You mulled it over in your head for a minute, remembering Yoongi’s words. If he was able to hack the cameras, they wouldn’t be able to see you, right? You felt so grateful towards Jin and Namjoon, and even Jungkook, for helping you, you wanted to contribute in some way. You wanted to help them, ease their pain at the loss of their friends.
With this thought in mind, you spoke up, “I could do it…” you trailed off, voice quiet. All five of the men’s heads snapped towards you, most with looks of disbelief on their faces. Even Hoseok hadn’t expected you to agree, he was testing you, to see how you would react. Yoongi looked at you curiously, waiting for your next words. He couldn’t deny the clench in his heart at Seokjin’s words. No, he wasn’t willing to risk you, but if you were offering... “I mean.. I want to help,” you hesitated, looking between Jin and Jungkook who were now looking angrily at you. You shrunk in on yourself a bit, awaiting their response. 
“Then it’s settled,” Yoongi remarked. He was trying hard to contain the fear he felt at allowing you to enter Big Hit alone. He knew it was dangerous, and he really wanted to not care about your well-being, but try as he might, he was terrified of allowing you to do this. He assumed he hid it well though, because everyone bar Hoseok was looking at him with incredulousness. 
“No way,” Seokjin spoke first, his tone leaving nothing up for discussion, “this conversation is over.” Jin stood up abruptly, looking directly at Namjoon, “You aren’t ok with this, are you?” The look in his eye was intense, and Namjoon could feel it. He could feel the emotions Jin felt towards you, that he was going to do whatever it took to protect you. Namjoon would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the same way.
Namjoon let out a short sigh and closed his eyes before setting his gaze on Yoongi, “We can figure this out without involving YN.” 
“You heard her,” Yoongi growled, “she’s willing to risk her life. Who am I to tell her no?”
From there, the argument got even more heated, Jungkook even getting involved at one point. You were starting to feel uncomfortably hot in this cramped space. You understood both sides. You wanted to help, but you also knew that whatever you were volunteering yourself to do was dangerous. You needed air.
Suddenly, you stood up from the sofa announcing to the others that you ‘needed space’ and bolted out the door. Jungkook turned to run after you, but Hoseok, who was now standing next to the youngest, put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Let me go Hobi-hyung, I need to make sure YN is ok,” Jungkook rushed out, turning to the elder.
“Let her go, Kookie. This is probably a lot for her,” Hoseok told the boy, who looked like his heart was breaking at his words, “She’ll be ok, give her time.”
In your haste to remove yourself from the situation, you missed the look of absolute devastation on Jin’s face. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything to repay them. He didn’t want you to feel like you owed them. He couldn’t believe how strongly he felt for you after only one day, longing for your presence next to him, now that it was suddenly gone. He could see that Jungkook - and to some extent, Namjoon - felt similarly. 
Namjoon’s heavy sigh could be heard by everyone in the room, even over the loud chatter between the boys, as he slowly rose from his seat. As he made his way over to the door, he looked over his shoulder at the hacker. “Fix this.” His words held a finality that made Yoongi gulp. The blonde had a stoic outer shell that was hard to crack, but no one in this building could deny Namjoon was the one in charge, the one they wouldn’t defy. Yoongi nodded, biting the inside his cheek to hold back his retorts as Namjoon left the room. 
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After you burst out of Yoongi’s room earlier, you ran towards the big metal door that led outside the warehouse. You didn’t really want to go home, you were way too scared of what might be waiting for you there, but you did need some fresh air and some time to process everything that has happened to you since yesterday. 
You made your way down the long winding path that led back to the fork in the path at the edge of the forest. You were thankful Jungkook had found you a pair of slippers earlier and you were no longer barefoot. You passed the broken fence blocking the dirt road down to the quarry and carefully hiked down until you were at the embankment and sat on the edge of the water. It really was beautiful and now that you were up close, you could see how clear the water was. It looked like liquid gemstones, barely rippling in the slight breeze. The marble looked so pretty up close, nearly snow white with swirls and lines of grey. It was calming out here. You took a few deep breaths, inhaling the scent of the water and the trees. 
You have never done well with crowds of people. Not that five men were a crowd by any means, but you weren’t used to being around more than a couple of people at a time. Growing up, you had severe anxiety, especially while at school, and it carried over to adulthood. You also haven’t had many chances to socialize as an adult, outside of Mina and Woo. Being thrown into a situation with five men, two of whom you don’t think even want you around, is a lot. It’s only been twenty four hours and you’re already starting to regret leaving your home. You thought about your mom, and the huge breakfasts and dinners she would make for you and your father. Your father, who you didn’t know if you could even trust anymore. You’ve lived your whole life putting all your trust in your parents, as one should. But now you were questioning everything. Were they aware of your genetic rarity? Did they know about Big Hit all along? You had so many unanswered questions that you would probably never have answers to unless you went home.
Your mind wandered to Mina and Woo. How you weren’t sure if you would ever get to see them again. You were worried about them, worried that they would look for you and find themselves in some kind of trouble. They were your only friends growing up, and you didn’t even get to properly say goodbye to them. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt something wet and warm drop into your lap. You were wearing the pants that you got dressed in yesterday morning before what could’ve been your last breakfast with your family. At that thought, the dam within you broke and the tears started flowing. 
While staring at your damaged hands, you were reminded of Seokjin, and his caring nature. The tall, broad shouldered man who has shown you nothing but kindness. He was so gentle with you, like no one ever has been before. He made your heart flutter and your mind blank when he spoke to you. You thought back to how angry he had been with his own friends, over you, a girl he just met. He was defending you, and it made you feel like you were tearing a family apart. You didn’t want to bring him, or anyone else for that matter, any pain or harm. But then you thought back to how nice his large hand had felt against the delicate skin of your face this morning, and how his words had made you blush with fondness. You’ve never loved someone outside of your family, never even had a crush before. You weren’t sure how to define what you felt for Seokjin, but it felt good. 
Then you thought about Namjoon, the well spoken and intelligent man who was the reason you were brought in with welcoming arms. From what you’ve gathered, he was the one who pushed to find you, to make sure they did something to stop Big Hit from getting to you. You were thankful for him, and you didn’t want to put him in a position where he had to choose you or his brothers. He cared for them deeply, you could see that clearly. 
Jungkook was mysterious to you. He seemed so shy and timid, yet he was so angry with Yoongi earlier in defense of you. He had shown you one of the most beautiful places you’ve ever witnessed before, and given you one of the most precious smiles you’ve ever seen. You wanted to learn more about him, get to know him, be his friend. You felt drawn to the boy and wanted to protect him. It was odd, you’ve never felt an instinct to take care of someone else before, aside from maybe your cat. You wondered if that was how Seokjin felt towards the rest of them, the thought causing your heart to clench, emphatic towards him.  
The red haired man, Hoseok, was the one you knew the least about. It felt like he didn’t really like you, but he was so hard to read. You remembered what Namjoon said about him being excitable and friendly, but you had yet to experience it yourself. As much as you felt unwelcomed by him and Yoongi, you still felt inclined to get to know him better, a pull to him, much like the others. You couldn’t explain these feelings, and they were confusing you.
The last man of the group, the blonde. Yoongi. He definitely didn’t want you here, and definitely made you feel unwelcome. But could you blame him? You weren’t mad at him. No. You understood completely how he felt. You were a stranger, disposable, and you weren’t his friend. He had no reason to care about you. None of them did. You mentally berated yourself for allowing your mind to conjure up the idea that they owe you anything, that you deserved their care and affection. 
As you sat and cried silently to yourself, you let the dark thoughts take over your mind. Were you some kind of charity case to Namjoon? Like he felt the need to save someone who was like him and that’s all you meant to them? Maybe they felt sorry for you, and that’s why they were treating you so kindly. Seokjin acted caring towards everyone, why were you anything special? You were acting crazy, it’s only been a day with these men and you’re already feeling such a strong pull to them. You need to get a hold of yourself. You continued to sit there, on the edge of the water, shoulders hunched as you cried silently. As the day went on, and the sun started to set beyond the hills, your mind was plagued with the thoughts that this was all a horrible, horrible idea. 
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To be continued….
A/N: if you made it this far, first of all, THANK YOU! If you want to be added to the taglist, make sure you’re following me and send me an ask. if you enjoy the series consider reblogging so it can reach more readers. i’m feeling a little down about writing right now, so i’m trying to make sure to update next sunday. we will be meeting the twins in the next couple chapters, depending on how long they get, and you will be getting some steamy scenes between YN and (a) boy shortly. much love 
xx Des
taglist:  @minifruity​  @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz​ @chim-possible​ 
copyright 2020 aliendes
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flutteringdreams-matw ¡ 3 years ago
Text
Out of Time (3/?)
Link to Ecto-Storm Series
First/Last
Summary: Paradoxes are tricky things - especially when it involves a 15 year old half ghost and his dark future living outside of the timeline. Danny is faced with impossible odds, out of control powers, haunting visions and three possible outcomes in his battle against his ultimate enemy. Sequel to Making to Grade - can be read as standalone. Updates on Sundays and the occasional Wednesday.
Sam rang the doorbell at Fentonworks three times, bouncing on her feet in anticipation. She glanced up at the green dome around the town, reflecting the sun that shone higher above. It had been up for a few hours now according to the news, but no word about why the shield was up in the first place. That included the lack of response from her half-ghost best friend.
"Sam!" Tucker called from behind. She turned to see the teen running up the sidewalk toward Fentonworks, waving to indicate his arrival.
"Any word?" She asked as he came to the steps.
"Not since Jazz texted," Tucker said, frowning.
The door swung open, revealing a tired looking Maddie Fenton to the teens. "Sorry kids, I was in the lab," she told them, ushering them inside. "It's been a long night."
"Where's Danny?" The question was out of Sam's mouth before the door even closed. "What happened?"
"Upstairs," Maddie replied, pursing her lips slightly as she looked up the stairs worriedly. "We'll explain in the kitchen."
The Fenton's kitchen looked like a war zone; various books and papers were scattered across the table with multiple broken inventions and cups of coffee filling whatever space they could. Jack was on the phone, talking loudly and pacing back and forth. Jazz sat staring at her laptop screen, glancing at the pile of weapons at her feet every so often. Sensing the newcomers, Jazz looked up. "Oh good, you're here," she said.
"What happened?" Sam repeated, looking at the chaos.
"Danny had another dream," Jazz explained, her expression turning dark. "Dad managed to wake him after a while, but he freaked out. He flew up to the Ops Center and put up the shield using one of his deeper energy levels. We've been up ever since making sure all our weapons are prepared."
"For what, exactly?" Tucker asked, eyebrow raised.
"Dan."
Sam gasped, exchanging worried looks with Tucker. "How long?" she probed.
"That, we're not sure about," Maddie said, leaning against the counter with a sigh. "Danny passed out after telling us about him."
Jack hung up the phone with a sigh, looking displeased. "Mads, Vladdy's going live at 9am; we're going to need to figure out what to say about the shield. He's going against it."
Maddie frowned at the mention of the mayor. "Jack, that's in 2 hours. We still don't know why he put it up in the first place!"
"You're sure it wasn't just a bad dream?" Tucker queried hopefully.
Jack nodded grimly. "There's no question. Whatever Danny saw, he believed it was real."
The group stood in silence as that sunk in. Sam frowned worriedly as she saw the toll of the night on the other Fentons. Realizing what was needed, she looked over at Jazz. "What can we do?"
Jazz looked at the girl gratefully. "I only met him briefly after Danny got stuck in the future," she said thoughtfully. "You guys saw more of what he can do. Other the peeler, what should we focus on in terms of weapons?"
"I think defense should be the top priority," Tucker rebutted, bringing his hand to his chin in thought. "Danny's not going to be able to keep the shield up and fight; getting a strong ghost shield could help buy some time. Something for the rest of the town too in case the shield goes down. Remember the Ghost King? Those creepy skeletons caused a lot of damage."
"If we recalibrate some of the bazookas for blasting use over transferring back to the Ghost Zone, that may also help," Sam added. "Dan's strong; we'll need things that will pack a punch."
Jack frowned. "Hold on - we're treating this like the Ghost King invasion? Isn't that overreacting a little bit?"
"No."
All five occupants of the kitchen turned to Danny's decisive response. He was dressed, but pale and clammy, leaning heavily against the door frame for support. In one arm he had a USB key, the other his backpack. He grimaced slightly as sparks of green ecto-energy appeared to move through his chest before he managed to suppress them and walk toward the table, silence following him.
"I didn't think you'd be up so soon," Jazz said with a frown, eying her brother worriedly.
Danny dropped into an open seat heavily, sighing. "Neither did I," he replied honestly. He turned to his attention to the information scattered in front of him. He sighed again, putting his elbows on the table and brought his thumbs to the bridge of his nose, holding his head up.
"You look awful," Tucker stated.
"Thanks Tuck, tell me more," Danny replied cynically. Maddie frowned in concern, walking over to the teen and knelt beside him.
"Danny, you really don't look well," Maddie told him softly. "How do you feel?"
"You mean other than holding up a shield above the entire town and dealing with the fact your worst enemy escaped?" he asked drily. Maddie didn't answer and waited until Danny exhaled. "I've been better," he admitted. "The shield is taking a lot out of me."
Maddie bit her lip, unsure if she should press him further on the topic. She looked over to Jack worriedly, who answered her unasked question by shaking his head. "What happened last night?" Maddie questioned instead.
Danny scrunched his eyes tightly as another set of sparks went through his chest. Once it subsided, he exhaled loudly. "I went into my mindscape again. We were in Clockwork's tower, but Clockwork wasn't there. The thermos Dan was trapped in was cracked and then it exploded, he escaped and then that set of dreams came back," he explained slowly. "Next thing I knew, Dad woke me up."
"And then you put up the shield," Sam surmised. Danny grunted in confirmation. "Are you sure what you saw was real?"
"Yeah," Danny breathed.
Sam sighed. "How long until he attacks Amity Park?"
Danny finally opened his eyes and sat up in the chair, looking at his family and friends around him. "I don't know," he said solemnly. "But that shield will buy us some time when he does show up. It's not letting anyone in."
"Wait… you're planning on keeping that shield up?" Sam asked him incredulously. "For how long?"
"As long as it takes," Danny said. Remembering the USB stick, he handed it to his Mother. "Here. It's my ghost file on Dan."
Maddie frowned at the offered storage device. "I thought we already had access to all your files?"
"Not this one," Danny replied darkly. "It has all the information that we need to figure out how to beat him." Danny glanced at the clock, frowning slightly. "We're going to be late," he announced, standing slowly.
"You're actually planning on going to school?!" Sam exclaimed angrily. "Danny, you just had electricity running through your body a minute ago. Don't you think you should take the day?"
Danny frowned, about to argue, before his left eye turned green and he faltered, more electricity flooding his body. With a cry of pain, he grabbed the chair he was just sitting on for support, vaguely hearing his name being called.
The green shield shone brilliantly, holding steady before he felt it shudder. Someone was attacking… from the inside? His vision shifted and he saw the white cape, blue skinned ghost attacking with various forms of pink energy. Vlad? Why was he attacking-
"Danny breathe!"
Danny was brought out of his vision, gasping for air, by his mother shaking his shoulders. As he readjusted, he realized he had fallen onto the floor. Sam was next to him, Tucker and Jazz were in front, all looking very worried. "What… happened?" he asked through gasps.
"Your eye changed colour," Sam told him. Maddie nodded to Sam and the girl moved closer to support her friend. "Then you lit up like Skulker's suit when it gets hacked and collapsed. You just sort of stared into space until your Mom got through to you."
"Did you see something?" Tucker queried. Danny nodded.
"Vlad," he said simply. "He's attacking the shield."
Maddie paused from where she was in the kitchen and turned to her son. "Are you sure?" she asked slowly. "Your father was just on the phone with him – he's doing a press conference about the shield this morning."
"Plasmius," Danny corrected quickly. Maddie pressed her lips together at the swift correction but said nothing. "I think he's trying to test the strength of it and whether he could bring it down."
"Here we go!" Jack boomed as he ran up the stairs from the lab; Danny hadn't even realized the man had left until now. In his hand, he held a small silver device with the shiny green Fenton logo on it. "The Fenton E-Scanner! Good thing we finished it yesterday."
Maddie took the device from her husband and walked over to her son, who eyed the device warily. "It's just an ecto-energy reader Danny," she assured, showing him the device. "Whatever you're doing is taking more energy than you realize." Once he nodded his consent, Maddie brought the scanner to his forehead. After a few seconds, it beeped and Maddie read the readings. She frowned slightly as she looked at the teens in front of her. "No school for you, young man," she told him. "The last thing you need is to have another episode like this. We'll call Ethelwulf after we deal with that press conference – that way we can create an excuse to stop anyone attacking the shield."
Danny frowned, but nodded his confirmation to Maddie. "Just don't tell the school a ghost stole my face again, would you?" Maddie scowled at the reminder of the flimsy excuse but nodded all the same. She looked at Jack, glanced at their son worriedly, before they headed down to the lab, leaving the four teens in the kitchen.
Jazz sighed. "You guys want a ride?" she asked Sam and Tucker, standing.
"Thanks Jazz!" Tucker exclaimed happily.
Jazz waved off his gratitude. "Least I can do for calling you over so early." She turned to her brother in fake annoyance. "Don't do anything stupid while we're gone okay?"
Danny made a face. "No promises."
She gave a pointed look at Tucker before leaving the kitchen. Danny felt the eyes of his friends move toward him and readied himself for the double attack.
"You're using raw energy with the shield, aren't you?" Tucker accused.
Danny, to his credit, didn't deny it. "More like a combination of core and raw energy."
"I know Frostbite said to trust your instincts, but don't you think this is a little much?"
"You saw what he could do," Danny argued. "If I'm able to block him out, even for a bit, then I'm going to risk it."
"And what happens when you face him?" Sam asked, anger starting to lace her voice. "Are you going to try and keep the shield up too? Cause I hate to tell you, but you're barely able to stand without looking like a malfunctioning toaster oven."
Danny let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know okay?" he said. "I just wanted to make sure he couldn't get to Amity Park."
"Gee, if only you could ask world renowned ghost hunters to put up a ghost shield around the town," Tucker said sarcastically.
"Remember, the wail can go through shields," Danny told him, voice rising. "Managed to get through the one in the future at any rate. Besides, if I learned anything from Fear's little science experiment, I know that he'll have trouble with this shield."
"Right, the shield you put up when you had lost control of your powers," Sam reminded angrily. "The one where you were unconscious for almost a week after you defeated him. The one where you almost died after discovering those powers in order to save us."
Danny flinched at the unsaid accusation. Apologetic blue eyes found fearful violet ones before the boy sighed, all the fight draining from him. "I don't want to lose you," he admitted quietly.
Sensing her victory, Sam's face softened at the admission. "Well, we don't want to lose you," she said softly. "You're not alone. I'm here."
Danny realized how close Sam was to him in that moment, still holding him upright, vaguely understanding the weight of those words. He stared at her and she stared back, almost frozen with anticipation of who would say what next.
And then Tucker coughed, making both teens jump out of their thoughts. Sam let go of Danny and looked away, blushing, while Danny caught eyes with his other best friend. Tucker's smug smile made Danny's cheeks grow warmer as he cursed his friend's presence. "I'm here too, in case you're wondering," Tucker teased lightly. Danny glared half-heartedly before the dark skinned boy continued. "Your parents, Jazz, us – we have your back. Sam's right, this shield is going to take a lot of energy from you. If you want to defeat your older jerky self, you'll need to not have your raw energy powers in that shield."
Danny sighed as his sister came back into the kitchen, backpack in tow. He pushed himself upright, Sam hovering over him like a mother hen, as he sat back down at the table. He shot a grateful smile at the girl before frowning at the information in front of him. "I guess I'll go through this stuff," he said distastefully, gesturing toward the pile of weapons at the opposite end.
"Don't hurt yourself," Jazz warned, jingling her car keys toward their backdoor.
Danny smiled wryly. "That's the point, isn't it? The best weapons against him are the best weapons against me."
:-=-:
Dome Watch – Day Three
Three days since the mysterious shield went up around Amity Park and residents are wondering why here? Why now?
Word from City Hall yesterday confirmed that town hero Danny Phantom is responsible for the shield around the town. There is still no confirmation on what warranted the attack but it's brought many residents back to last year, where the town was taken hostage by the Ghost King and again in the summer when Phantom did this last. Unlike the previous domes, residents can leave the town, but require a more forceful approach before being allowed back in.
Resident ghost experts Jack and Maddie Fenton assured the public two days ago that the shield means no harm, but many of their critics, including Mayor Masters, have questioned their authority of the matter with the truce with Phantom being quite new.
More on page 7.
William Lancer frowned as the school bell rang, putting the paper down as he watched his English Class come into the classroom in various forms of enthusiasm – most of them low. This particular class had changed quite in the past year though he supposed the now constant ghost attacks contributed to most of it. Valerie Gray, for instance, sat herself in the front corner; away from everyone she once called her friend. She was a loner, keeping her head down, doing the work and working at least 3 jobs to start saving for college.
Dash Baxter and Kwan Wu's laughter brought the teacher's attention to the A-list of the grade. They were chatting openly about something, occasionally catching the attention of Paulina Sanchez. Lancer assumed they were either talking about the dome or about Phantom. Due to the look on the latter's face, he'd guess Phantom.
He scanned the room as the second bell rang, looking for any missing seats; Only one today. "No Mr. Fenton? Third day in a row," He mused out loud. His two friends at the back looked at each other worriedly. That got the man's attention.
Sam Manson's love of protests, nature, and veganism only amplified this year, but now that they moved onto subjects that peaked her interest, she was easily a top student. Tucker Foley seemed to buckle down a little more this year, getting in nowhere near as much trouble as he did last year and continued his A streak from the year before.
Daniel Fenton on the other hand? Almost two years in High School and he was still an enigma that Lancer still couldn't crack. The only clue the man had that something was going on with him was when his friends shared that look. The one where they knew more to whatever the Fentons claimed him to miss school. The excuses were rather ridiculous – sleeping in, stuck in the weapons vault, trapped in an alternate dimension. Lancer's personal favourite was when they claimed a ghost stole his face and went across town broadcasting him missing. Whether the Fentons knew what Danny was into, Lancer wasn't sure, but that exchange between Manson and Foley, the one of worry, concern and downright fear that they exchange when he's not in the room? There was definitely something going on with Danny Fenton.
"Pens out, desks clear," Mr. Lancer announced, brushing aside his thoughts for a moment. "Test time." The groans of teenage angst and lack of preparedness reach his ears. "Essay question is on the board people. Tell me if Macbeth's choices led to his downfall or if it was all fated to happen. You have the period."
The murmurings of the teens in front of him petered out as he passed out the test, and eventually the scratching of pens to paper greeted his ears. Once the group of sophomores were writing, Lancer sat back at his desk and absently looked down out at the paper once more. The truce between Phantom and the Fentons, however new it might be, seemed to help keep most of the attacks away from the school – it had done wonders for his curriculum delivery. Thankfully, there hadn't been a ghost attack since Phantom put up the shield, but there was no sign of the ghost in question since all of this began. Come to think of it, Lancer couldn't remember when he last saw the Fentons not on a news conference.
Looking up at the empty desk, Lancer sighed as his thoughts came back to his missing pupil. Danny's attendance was far from perfect, but the boy had made a large effort to be at school more often. His random disappearances were less frequent than the previous year, and his overall grades had improved. Even his general demeanour had improved; Danny's start to the school year seemed brighter than anytime the man had seen since the boy started at Casper. The weight he seemingly carried with him was still there, but wasn't as soul crushing as it appeared to be.
"Mr. Lancer?"
The teacher jumped out of his thoughts as Danny Fenton himself stood at his desk. "Mr. Fenton!" Lancer exclaimed, surprised. Right on cue, Manson and Foley's heads flew up from their tests, agape at the teen. "You startled me!"
"Sorry," Danny said sheepishly. Lancer frowned as he noticed the bags under his student's eyes and the paleness of his complexion. "My Mom told me to give this to you." He waved a piece of paper from his hand before he handed it to the teacher.
Lancer opened it and saw the neat handwriting of Maddie Fenton. "Please excuse Danny after first period due to illness." Lancer looked the teen over again; Danny did look very ill. "You know Mr. Fenton, I would've been happy to give you a makeup test once you felt better."
Danny smiled at the man, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Mom's overreacting," he said with a shrug. "Besides, I didn't want to miss anymore school. This was the compromise."
Doubting the boy's words, Lancer sighed. "Very well," he said, handing Danny the test. "Essay question's on the board."
With a small nod, Danny turned to get to his desk. Mr. Lancer watched his slow, staggered steps curiously. Danny moved liked he was injured, stiffly moving as if he favoured one side. Lancer glanced at his two best friends and almost gasped at their expression. Tucker looked almost exasperated but mostly concerned. However Sam… she had so many emotions on her face directed at the boy, Lancer wasn't sure how Danny could weather it. He must have given them some sort of gesture, because both teens softened their expressions slightly, but still looked extremely concerned as Danny took his seat.
Lancer glanced at the student once more as he started writing, before looking out the window. The shield illuminated the town in a sickly green, creating eerie shadows across the school. Lancer shuddered in remembrance of how the town looked during the Ghost King invasion.
About halfway through the period, Lancer started to walk through the aisles of desks, attracting wandering eyes back to their tests. Sure enough, his star students were already finished and just waiting for the end of class. As he got the final row, he sensed something was off. Sam was still writing, with the occasional glimpses toward Danny, whereas Tucker had completed the test and was staring directly at his friend, concerned. Frowning, Lancer moved to Fenton's desk.
Danny was writing, slowly, but his body was shaking. He was paler than before and ultimately looked like he might be sick. "Mr. Fenton?" Lancer asked quietly. The boy didn't answer. Some of the students looked up and toward the commotion in the back; Lancer could swear he hear Baxter snickering slightly. "Danny?" Lancer touched his shoulder and with a soft groan Danny fell sideways. "All the Bright Places!" Lancer exclaimed, quickly moving to catch the boy. His eyes were closed, breathing ragged as the teacher tried to rouse him. "Daniel! Are you alright!?" Lancer moved the boy back upright in his seat, holding him steady. Eventually, Danny opened his eyes, blinking a few times before his gaze settled on his teacher.
"Mr. Lancer?" he asked, confused. Whispers started around the classroom.
"Fenton fainted!" Dash exclaimed unhelpfully, earning laughter from a group of his peers in his direct vicinity.
"Thank you for that, Mr. Baxter," Lancer said curtly, still looking Danny over as the boy tried to regain his bearings. "Daniel, perhaps you should go to the Nurse's office." When the teen in front of him didn't register his voice, Lancer frowned; he doubted the boy would make it on his own.
"I'll go with him!" The teacher turned, eyebrows raised at the three voices. He had expected Manson and Foley, but Ms. Gray's outburst? She hadn't shown interest in her peers since last year.
Manson and Gray were glaring at each other from across the room, some sort of rivalry shining in both their eyes. The concern for the boy was evident, but Lancer could sense the anger, worry and concern that Sam felt for Danny ooze out of her body. Mr. Foley on the other hand? It was a testament to how dire the situation must be for the teen to volunteer to go to the nurse's office.
Glancing back toward the ill teen, Lancer sighed. They didn't have time for the teacher to be suspicious. "Alright Mr. Foley, as you've finished."
Tucker hastily got out of his seat, gathered Danny's items and helped the sick student upright. Danny faltered as he stood, but regained his balance and managed to get himself out of the room, Tucker following closely behind him. Mr. Lancer watched them go, frowning slightly. There was something nagging him about this situation, but he couldn't place it. Once the students were down the hall, the teacher sighed as he pushed aside his worry yet again.
"Back at it Sophomores. The more you dally, the lower the grade."
:-=-:
The world exploded as he finally escaped that foul prison. Dan stretched, moving his stiff limbs as he looked at his surroundings. "Finally," he said, looking around the burning lair around him. "Now, where is that infernal Time Ghost." Flying upwards in the tower, Dan started to launch ecto-blasts at various clocks, trying to goad Clockwork into appearing. "Clockwork!" He yelled dramatically as he continued to destroy the lair.
A large chime made Dan stopped suddenly, enveloped in the chaos surrounding him. His eyes drifted to Clockwork's time glass as various battles involving his younger self played back at him through the blue flames. Dan frowned. "Of course, new timeline." He floated in place, watching his past self grow stronger in the time he was detained. It couldn't have been more than a year. The flames cracked the orb, running directly through an image of Danny fighting what looked like a large plant ghost.
"Perhaps I should show him what it's like to have a blast from your past," he mused, a small smile appearing at his face. He chuckled darkly as his hands lit up with green energy and broke the time glass in front of him. "Or rather, his future." Dan Phantom flew up and out of the burning tower, leaving behind a fading image of fifteen year old Danny Phantom on Clockwork's broken time glass. A few seconds later, horrific sonic waves reverberated through the tower, enhancing the flames and making the tower itself rumble. With a final crash, Clockwork's Clock Tower imploded, engulfed in flames.
:-=-:
Danny stumbled into a series of lockers, gripping it tightly as he heard Tucker come up behind him. They were out of earshot from Lancer's class and halfway to the nurse's office.
"What the hell Danny!?" Tucker asked angrily, arms crossed and a dangerous glare on his face. Danny sighed as he turned to his friend. "You're lucky you only passed out in there!"
"We still haven't gotten a hold of Ethelwulf," Danny told him, standing up straighter. "It's been three days; the school would be looking for answers if I missed another one. I needed to make an appearance somehow."
Tucker sighed, the anger still not leaving his face. "Why'd you pass out this time? Someone trying to get into the shield or another vision?"
"Vision," Danny said, looking away.
Tucker frowned. "It's another of Dan escaping, isn't it?" Tucker accused. The teen in question stayed silent. Taking that as his answer, Tucker sighed again. "Danny, that's the sixth one since the shield began! Don't you think some of these are just dreams?"
"Maybe," he conceded, frowning slightly. "But it doesn't explain why I keep getting them, or why they're appearing at random."
The two teens stood silent, waiting for the other to make the first move. Tucker sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat as he walked closer to his friend. "Danny, you need to take the shield down," Tucker told him quietly, staring out the large window of the Casper High Hallway to their football field. Danny also turned his vision to the outside world. He felt the shield hum through his powers, frowning as he considered his friend's plea. "It's taking way too much energy to sustain and for what? Just a hunch that the worst villain you ever faced might be coming back?"
"Isn't that a reason to keep it up?" Danny refuted, eyebrow raised.
"Not at the risk to yourself!" Tucker exclaimed exasperatedly. "Let's say you're right, and he attacks the town. How are you going defend yourself? How are you going to fight?"
"It affects me less as Phantom."
"Bull," Tucker said angrily. "We both know it affects you regardless. You're using raw energy remember? There's a balance between you overextending the amount of core energy, which makes you relive the portal accident, and your base powers." Tucker's anger lessened a bit, trying to get his friend to see reason. "At least take back some of your energy; if you feel something attacking the shield then go nuts. This is too dangerous and there's no point in draining yourself."
Danny sighed, taking inventory of his powers. Tucker was right; he felt exhausted. He opened his mouth to agree, but gasped instead, doubling over in pain. Something was wrong. His eyes went green, mouth agape at an unseen foe.
"Danny!" Tucker exclaimed worriedly. The half-ghost looked up at his friend, alarmed.
"Duck," he gritted out, before the world was drowned out by a deep wail. The ground beneath them shook as Danny, biting back a scream, held the shield up. The windows shattered, leaving glass scattered around the teens as Tucker tried to keep his friend upright. After what felt like hours, the wail stopped, sending both teens crashing to the floor. Tucker looked at Danny with concern, watching his friend pant from exertion as the shield shuddered above them. Dread pooled in the pit of Tucker's stomach as he realized what that attack meant.
"Danny…" Tucker trailed off, wide eyed. Danny didn't answer; once he reclaimed his breathing, he gave Tucker a long look, causing the dark skinned teen's eyes to widen further in alarm. "Danny wait!" Tucker exclaimed, reaching out to his friend. It was too late; Danny transformed, grunting slightly, and took off, leaving his best friend behind in the destroyed hallway.
Tucker stood, watching him fly off in the distance before cursing. "Sam's going to kill me," he muttered, jumping up and running down the halls toward Jazz's homeroom.
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maxineswritingcenter ¡ 3 years ago
Text
The Ghost of Winter - Part 5
Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, Steve Rogers x fem!reader
Legacy agent, (Y/N), has been trained her entire life by a mystery man. When they learn that HYDRA has infiltrated SHIELD, she must fight to stop them. But could she betray the trust of her friends for her teacher?
-----
(Y/N) always wanted to go to Europe. It had never been possible before since she was always so busy at work. But now work didn't exist anymore. And instead of a vacation, she was on the run from the law with an assassin. But when in Rome. Or, uh, Romania. 
Bucky and (Y/N) had found a small apartment in a remote part of Bucharest where there were mostly older residents that didn’t have a television. They were known as the honeymooning couple who kept to themselves. She did most of the talking since Bucky didn’t know Romanian, he knew five other languages including Japanese, but no Romanian. He was a quick learner though. To be fair, she did what she could with conversational Romanian that she learned in her SHIELD training courses. 
Their first night there had been rough. The whole plane ride there Bucky hadn’t slept. And Washington DC to Romania was almost eleven hours. He just kept reading through everything he could find on the person he used to be. And then when night came, everything went south. 
Even though it was only nine o’clock back in New York, it was nearly three AM in Bucharest. They had finally gotten their bags unpacked, and she had finished setting up the closed network surveillance system.
“Alright.” She activated it with a touch on the control pad. Bucky was sitting on the couch, reading an English to Romanian dictionary, like he was memorizing it. “No one gets in or out without me knowing. And since it has a VPN, no one is going to be hacking it. And if they try, we’ll be gone before they can get the country of origin.” He didn’t look up at her, only making a grunt in approval. It was something she was used to. He wasn’t a talker. 
“And now I’m going to bed.” She added in, putting her hands on the hips of her pajamas. A band tee and sweatpants, “Do you want the bed or the couch?”
“I’ll take the floor.” She blinked in surprise at his curt answer. 
“The what?” She stared down at the tiled floor, then the soldier.
“Bed’s too soft, so is the couch.” He finally looked up at her, eyes partially hidden by his hair, “I’m used to it.”
“Are you sure?” She asked, taking a hesitant step forward, “Because that bed is basically a wooden plank.”
“I’m alright, solntse.” He said. He called her sunshine again. She didn't want to let him know she knew yet. Keep this weird yet pure connection for just a little while longer.
"Okay... Would it be alright if I took the couch then?" She asked, not wanting to admit that sleeping in new places alone put her on edge. Bucky closed the book and stood up. His metal hand seemed to open and close nervously, but he still nodded. She was able to hook her laptop up to the small television and started to play a random movie she had downloaded for background noise. Since she was a child, she hadn't been able to sleep without background noise. If it was too quiet, it was like she could hear everything creak and footstep. Too paranoid that HYDRA would come for her to sleep. When she did finally close her eyes, Bucky had still been awake. His blue eyes intently watching the movie. 
At some point in the early morning, (Y/N) had woken up, maybe from her new surroundings. She sat up a bit and rubbed her face. When she looked around, she saw Bucky sleeping on the floor next to the couch, his human arm under his head, and the metal one balled tightly in a fist on his chest. He seemed to be shaking, like he was cold. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he was cold; he was sleeping on ceramic tile.
Carefully, she got down on the ground with an extra blanket in hand. When she reached him, she sat back on her knees and draped the blanket over him. She was about to let go of the hems, something bright blue caught her eye. It looked like a bracelet... No, a hair tie. Where would he have even gotten a hair tie? Why would he have a hair tie? It's not like he ever put his hair up-...
Wait.
Was that hers? She vaguely remembered giving him one when they were training, but it had been so long, and she couldn't remember what color it had been. Then again, who else could it belong to? Unless he had some sort of league of children that he had been training alongside her. Not likely.
Carefully, without thinking, really, she reached down to touch the hair tie. Just as her fingertips touched it, Bucky's eyes shot wide open. They were deadpan and unrecognizing. With unbelievable speed, he took her down to the floor, his metal hand wrapped around her throat. Panicking, she grabbed at the hem of his shirt, the other around his metal wrist.
"Bucky!" She choked out, "Bucky, you're safe. It's (Y/N)!" He continued to glare, pressing further.
"It's solntse!" She gasped. The cloudiness seemed to leave his eyes, and he let go, scrambling to get as far away as possible. He had made it to the other side of the living area when she finally caught her breath again.
It had been five days since the “incident”. Bucky had avoided her since then, moving as far away from her as possible, his nose glued to the dictionary. All her attempts were met by silent nods or shaking of his head. 
Finally, it had come to the last straw. 
(Y/N) walked into the room, wearing the best street wear to go into the market. A flowy skirt and a beautifully embroidered shirt. She found him on the balcony of the small house, reading from that damn dictionary again.
“Xilofon. Galben. Zebră.“ She barked. He looked up at her through his hair, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 
“What?” 
“What words did I just say?”
“Xylophone, yellow, zebra.” He said without hesitation. 
“Perfect!” She tossed some clothes his way, “That means you’ve gotten to the end of the Romanian dictionary. And look, I know that we’re hanging low. I get it. But we need:” She held up her fingers as she listed things off: “Food, clothes, a routine. We can’t just stay inside all day and starve.” 
Bucky held up the shirt she had thrown at him. It was a sweater, one that was made locally. Leather gloves. The pants were jeans, much like the ones he wore. 
She took a deep breath, “So here’s what’s gonna happen-”
His head tilted to the side, licking his bottom lip and smirking, “Oh, you’re giving the orders now, huh?” Okay... That was a little attractive.
She kept the stern look on her face, ignoring the blush on her cheeks, “Yes, I am. Now, get up, go shower, and then meet me downstairs so we can go to the market.” 
With a hum, he bundled the clothes up in his metal arm and slid past her. Lightly brushing up against her. He smelled like a deep musk, which didn’t make any sense since she didn’t think he had bathed in... Maybe seventy years. 
-
Down in the street, (Y/N) looked around and saw the groups of people heading to the market. One of them caught her eye. He was tall and blonde, an arm wrapped around the woman’s shoulders. He was looking down at her, a special twinkle in his eyes. It reminded her of a certain golden boy. 
The mission required them to go undercover. Their target was a part of terrorist group that Fury had gotten intel about. It seemed like small time compared to a literal alien invasion. But what Nick said goes. They were at a bar, getting what they could on a microphone that Nat had planted earlier that day. The target was sitting a few feet away, Steve and (Y/N) playing along like this was an awkward first date. The hair and make-up team had done a phenomenal job on Steve. Not even Peggy Carter would have been able to recognize him. He was given a short brown wig, freckles, under eye bags that looked like the man hadn't slept a wink in his life. And of course, she was a nobody in the eyes of society, so a wig was sufficient.
Steve sipped his drink, glancing up at her to see her staring intently.
"Yes, Miss Coulson?"
"Dear God, I just figured out who you looked like." She chuckled, "His name was Conor Lemley. He was in my coms class in college. And he always, without fail, had on a green hoodie and drank at least two Monsters during the lecture."
"Ah, sounds like a real charmer." Steve smiled, nodding a thank you to the waiter who brought them their dinner.
"Speaking of charmer." She leaned forward, "Target just gave his date a diamond encrusted necklace.” Steve looked over just in time for a younger woman (much younger than the target should be dating) to squeal in delight, practically launching herself across the table to land wet, slobbery kisses on the older man. 
Steve winced at the size of the necklace. The diamonds were large and protruding from their gold setting. It almost seemed like it would be too heavy to wear. 
“Enough to make a French monarch cry.” She joked. 
“Is... That what women want now-a-days?” He asked, looking back at her. Shaking her head, she scoffed. 
“God, no.” Staring into the wine she swirled in the crystalline glass, she thought for a moment, “Well, maybe for some people. Personally, I just like something that sparkles or catches the light in the perfect way. Something that I could stare at all day and just be reminded of the person I love.” When she looked up, Steve was looking at her intently, a soft smile on his lips. 
“I’ll have to remember that, sweetheart.” He lifted his glass to toast her. She rolled her eyes playfully and clinked her glass against his. It was unprofessional to think about other things while one was undercover.
 However. 
Captain Steve Rogers, the Steve Rogers had called her sweetheart. Was it to keep up appearances? Yes. But did it ever make her heart flutter. Even with as unrecognizable as he looked, he was still so handsome. So perfect.
“Alright.” Bucky’s voice brought her out of her memory. He stood besides her, the door to their apartment complex swinging shut loudly. He was wearing the clothes she gave him, it fit him well. And the leather gloves accentuated his hands well. He still kept on his baseball cap. Anything to keep him comfortable. 
“Let’s go.” He said with a very convincing Romanian accent. 
"You like the gloves?"
Bucky held his hands out in front of him, closing and opening his fists a few times, "They're fine."
Humming, she held his arm, leading him towards the market in the middle of town square.
He huffed, “So, what’s our story?”
“Our story, dear husband.” She spoke in her accent, “We met while you were on a vacation with your university friends. You were taking a tour of Bran Castle, aka Dracula’s castle where I was working as a tour guide, and it was love at first sight.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. Bucky looked down at her, a smile he was trying to hide peaking through. 
“That’s a terrible story.” 
“Oh yeah? What about you? You got anything better? Hmm?” She waited, but his answer was a grunt and an eye roll. 
“Alright, then how about you pick our names to make up for it?” 
He grumbled, “Fine. I’ll be...” He paused, “Sebastian Enache.” 
“Ah, coming from the city Savaste. And ” She nudged his side, “And mine?” 
“Annoying.” 
Pressing her lips tightly together to hide her laughter, she shook her head: “Oh I’m annoying? At least I don’t snore.” 
He narrowed his eyes down at her, “I do not snore.” 
“No, you’re right. I just think it’s funny when your nose scrunches up when you’re angry.” She pointed to the bridge of his nose. 
He shook his head, “You have a lot of guts joking around with me.” 
“Why? Because you’re a big, strong super soldier who was HYDRA’s number one assassin?” She shrugged, “Maybe I should. But I figure that we’re stuck on the run because someone decided that I was the one to help jog your memory. Well, you came to the right place. Now what is my name, Sebastian?”
He stared down at her, his lips in a stern line: “Roxana.” 
"Like the Police song?"
"The what song?" His eyes widened. She had momentarily forgotten that he was frozen for a majority of the eighties. Or at least she figured he had been frozen. The only thing that made sense anyway. She hadn’t looked into the leaked HYDRA files, reading about his torture wasn’t something that she wanted to do. 
"I'll make a list of things for you." She tugged him into town.
And so began the life of Sebastian and Roxana Enache. They started this life by going through the market, getting fresh and local produce and clothes. When they made it to the bakery, that’s when they had to get... Creative. 
A little bell rang as they two walked in. Bucky’s arms filled with bags, keeping his eyes low and on his “wife’s” shoes. She was really embracing this little town life thing. It annoyed him a little. But even he had to admit that there was something about Bucharest that put him a little at ease. But only around two percent at ease, the other ninety-eight percent was stress and anxiety. 
A man and a woman, an older couple, stood behind the counter, their eyes shifting at them both. The man had black hair, pulled back in a low ponytail, a dark mustache and beard to match. His potbelly was the perfect lean for his arms crossed over his crest. The woman was small, a faded red scarf hid her grey hair. Her eyes and smile were kind. They both work bakers’ aprons. The man, a large burly older man, leaned on the counter, staring them down. 
“You must be the new couple that moved in.” His accent was thick, his speech was fluent. It was quick, almost too quick for (Y/N) to catch. Glancing back at Bucky, thankful that he took a step forward. 
“Yes, sir. I am Sebastian and this is my wife, Roxana-” 
“She is not your wife.” He said in perfect English. (Y/N) stiffened, her hands behind her back, reaching for the gun that was tucked into her skirt. 
“Dragos!” His wife swatted at his chest. The burly man’s demeanor changed immediately to a light hearted chuckle. 
“Leave them alone.” She scolded, her sneer turning to a bright smile as she turned back to Bucky and (Y/N). Bucky’s shoulders fell from their tensed positions, and (Y/N)’s hands carelessly swung in front of her and away from the gun. 
“She has no ring.” Dragos motioned with his hands, his voice softer and less menacing than before, “Beautiful woman with no ring." Shit, no ring.
Think, (Y/N), think.
However, Bucky beat her to the excuse before she could think of anything, "Right, about that..." He set down the grocery bags on a small table; "Our village caught fire suddenly one night. After we had been evacuated, I went back in for the ring, it had been my mother's wedding ring." He looked down at the leather gloves, "I burned my hands, searching for it. I never found it." His voice trailed off. He blinked away fake tears, showing a brave smile and picking up the groceries again.
This sly dog.
"Oh, you poor things." The woman put a hand over her heart, a sympathetic look in her eyes, "Please forgive my husband; his words have no filter." She came around the counter, nodding her head to them: "My name is Ioana, and of course, my husband, Dragos. Please." She swept her hands out, "Please, take anything you like. Free of charge. The least I could do to make up for his brutishness."
"We take no offense." (Y/N) spoke up, "It is not the first time someone has asked." She lied.
"Well, it will be the last." Dragos came and stood beside Bucky, placing a large hand on his (thankfully) human shoulder, "Your sacrifice will be known to the village."
“Please.” She took a step forward, causing all three of them to stare at her, “Dragos, Ioana, you have shown us so much kindness already. But if this could just be a secret between us all.” (Y/N) took Ioana’s hands in hers, smiling fondly, “We do not wish to be a spectacle. It is one of the reasons why we left our town after the fire. Stares, whispers, the pity.” She glanced at Bucky before meeting the woman’s wise grey eyes again, “Sebastian’s pride...” Ioana gave her a knowing smile, patting her hands. 
“Of course.” She whispered, “But please. It is our best bread.” She reached over, taking a long brown bag from a nearby basket and putting it in one of the many bags that were draped over Bucky’s arms. 
- 
As soon as they were back in the small apartment, they both went to work putting away groceries, the soldier was silently staring her down. 
After a few moments of silence, Bucky’s voice made her sigh loudly. “My pride?” He accentuated the word.
“Don’t start.” She turned to him and lifted her hands dramatically, “My hands, destroyed, to save my mother’s wedding ring.” She rolled her eyes, “Maybe not pride, but certainly dramatic.” 
“Like you were going to come up with anything better on the spot.” He shut the cupboard closed with a loud bang. 
“Fine, how about I do all the shopping and you stay here with that stupid dictionary then.” She pointed to the book, still open, sitting on the kitchen table. 
He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest: “What if I don’t want to stay in?” 
(Y/N) raised her eyebrows at him: “Really? Well, then what would you care to do, James?” Maybe that was a little too cocky. 
In an instant, he had her caged against the fridge with his arms. His stormy blue eyes staring intently into her own. His nostrils flaring as he took deep, almost growl-like breaths. 
“Don’t think you can get chummy with me. You have no idea what I’ve done or what I’m capable of.” Bucky shoved away from her, “And don’t ever call me James again.” He growled and stomped off towards the door, slamming it behind him. Her heart had been beating heavily, almost breaking out of her chest. The last time they had been that afraid of Bucky was when he appeared to her as a child. 
Everything had been going well, or at least she thought it had. It seemed like they were getting along. Joking around with each other, creating fake scenarios. He had that nickname for her that seemed so personal. 
He was right though. (Y/N) didn’t know what he had done or what he was capable of. Or at least, not to an extent. But now that all of the files were declassified?  Maybe she should learn. 
Hehe max spent too much time on tiktok watching povs instead or writing them lol 
---------
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heartsandmuses ¡ 4 years ago
Text
tiktok famous
for @stonyweek​ 2020 // prompt: “social media”
steve rogers/tony stark. rated g. 1.8k. universe: mcu.
Two months after the rest of the team gets TikTok, Steve finally caves and makes an account of his own.
He doesn’t tell anyone though, because while his grasp on technology is better than what most would assume, part of the fun is letting people think he’s completely helpless. It’s made for some pretty amusing afternoons, between Clint trying to teach him for an hour straight exactly how to empty the recycle bin on his laptop and Bruce attempting to talk him through uploading a photo onto his Google Drive, and Steve figures that the team’s exasperation at his supposed tech incompetency might make for a few good videos.
And it does — his popularity soars seemingly overnight, and it’s only a matter of days before people start to catch on to the fact that Captain America’s making TikToks now and barely a week before he’s amassed hundreds of thousands of followers.
Unfortunately, that means the team’s caught on too.
It’s a bit of a disappointment that he can’t continue to be—as Clint would say—a troll, now that they know he’s not as much of an old man as previously thought, but there’s still plenty else he can do on the app. In the week after his account gets verified, Steve isn’t sure how many videos he gets dragged into, but between all the dance covers Natasha teaches him, all the easy food hacks Bruce does, and all the workouts Thor records, he’s certain that he’s made an appearance in well over a hundred drafts for the other Avengers’ profiles.
Not that he minds all that much. It gives him a chance to explore the full scope of TikTok in a way he probably wouldn’t on his own.
—   —   —
It’s Peter who introduces Steve to the concept of TikTok “challenges,” which, really, consist of anything ranging from simple choreography to lighthearted pranks, and Steve takes it upon himself to scroll through the kid’s profile for some fresh ideas.
It’s a slow weekend anyway, no missions planned or battles to fight, and the renovations in the gym thanks to Hulk’s latest tantrum means that all team training sessions are cancelled until next week. Outside, rain patters against the windows of the common room; the TV’s on low, playing a rerun of some competitive cooking show that Tony, sprawled out on the other side of the couch, fell asleep in front of, having lost interest about halfway through. Steve smiles as he lets his gaze trace over Tony’s profile—his messy hair, the curve of his nose, the way his eyelashes fan over his cheeks—and when his eyes finally turn back towards his phone...
Steve blinks.
Because the next video he lands on is tagged #KissYourBestFriendChallenge. And if he happened to miss the tiny print at the bottom of the screen, a text bubble pops up in the first few seconds with exactly the same words.
The video starts off innocently enough, with Peter and Ned laughing and joking around in what Steve assumes is Peter’s bedroom, both of them sitting on the floor with a half-finished Lego Death Star between them. Steve has the volume turned on low, but he can still hear Ned’s breathy Vader impression, as he holds up one of the figurines and walks it along the carpet. Peter laughs, and when his gaze shifts from the Lego figurine back up to Ned’s face, bright and beaming, his grin softens at the edges, expression turning into something much more... wistful and wanting and affectionate.
Something smitten.
Ned’s gaze meets Peter’s once again, and he trails off in the middle of his sentence when he sees him leaning in, closer and closer until their lips finally meet. It’s a tender kiss, a hesitant one, but Ned pulls away after a moment, partly in surprise and partly to search Peter’s face, a look of— of astonishment, of realization, coming over his own. And just like that, he leans back in and kisses him silly, smiling against Peter’s mouth.
Steve’s heart clenches, his eyes drifting back down to the bottom of the screen, and right next to the extensive list of hashtags, the caption reads: he feels the same way, followed by a row of heart emojis.
He’s known for a while that Peter’s been going out with Ned, but Steve had no idea that this is how they got together, and as he thinks about that look of mutual longing that they’d shared, he can’t help but glance back over at Tony, still blissfully asleep and snoring soundly.
—   —   —
Steve can’t get the idea out of his head.
It might have something to do with the fact that he’s spent the past few days going through the hashtag, watching as people have their dreams come true or—equally as often—dashed. But Steve’s a strategist, he needs to consider all possible outcomes before he can start to even plan, and while there’s a very large, very scared part of him that wants to call the whole thing off before it can even really begin, he knows, deep in his gut, that no better opportunity would ever present itself to tell Tony how he feels.
Steve’s brave, but he’s not the kind of brave that can go up to his best friend directly and confess his love to him. He’s learned that lesson all too well from silently pining around Bucky for the better part of a decade, and Steve knows he won’t be able to go through the same thing again. Even if Tony does reject him—which is a possibility he’s certainly preparing himself for—at least he’ll know for sure that he doesn’t have a chance, instead of being stuck in the familiar limbo of wondering and wanting and hoping.
And if that does happen, if Tony turns him down, Steve’s reassured by the fact that he can play it off as a joke, say it was all just for the challenge. That’s been his biggest concern in the past, whenever he would consider taking the leap and asking Tony out, the risk of something shattering between them. Their friendship, their closeness, what they have right now — none of it is worth throwing away just because Steve can’t tamp down his desire.
He’s thrown himself into some hastily thought-out plans in the past, but this one feels pretty foolproof.
—   —   —
Steve isn’t sure how it’s possible, really, but there’s just something about the sight of Tony laughing—crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes, lips curling into a grin—that makes him about ten times more handsome than he usually is. It’s just as heart-stopping as it is distracting, and it takes a good five minutes for Steve to even remember why he’d come down to the lab in the first place.
Officially, the excuse he gave Tony is that he needs some input on which TikTok to post next; unofficially, Steve’s just trying to calm his racing heart as he watches his best friend go through the entirety of his drafts folder, trying to muster up every ounce of courage he has, for one little moment. One little kiss.
“I think this one’s a real winner,” Tony says, turning the phone back towards Steve, and on the screen is a time-lapse of him sketching the Tower. He has a few others like that up on his profile already, quick little drawings of the common room or of the team, and Steve realizes with some embarrassment that if Tony went into his camera roll he would find more than a few real-time recordings of Steve sketching full pages of those warm, brown eyes and those long, fanning eyelashes. “The pranks and storytimes are fun and all, but I like the videos of your art the best.”
There’s such a startling sincerity in his words that it makes Steve’s heart skip a beat. He feels warm and nervous all at once, stomach churning and palms sweating, and he gets so lost in the adoring look in Tony’s eyes that he doesn’t notice for a long moment how close they really are. And it doesn’t stop, either. They just keep getting closer and closer and—
Steve’s leaning in, he realizes. He’s leaning in and he can see Tony’s tongue dart out to wet his lips, can see Tony’s gaze dropping to Steve’s mouth, can see a flicker of want in his eyes, pure and desperate, and that’s all Steve needs to know before he kisses him.
For days all he could imagine were the countless ways that Tony might let him down gently, pulling back with a laugh and a friendly squeeze to his shoulder, shaking his head and telling him that they’re better off as friends. But Tony doesn’t do any of that. He kisses back almost instantly, hands coming up to cup Steve’s cheeks, and Steve absolutely melts into the touch. It’s sweet and gentle and perfect, and now that he doesn’t have to worry about playing it off as a prank anymore, he pours everything he’s feeling into it — everything he’s been feeling, for all these years. All of his longing, his fondness, his desire.
All of his love.
The kiss seems to last somewhere between a second and an eternity, and when he finally pulls back to look into Tony’s eyes, he can see it all, every thought and feeling written out so clearly in his expression, a picture-perfect mirror of his own. Steve smiles, as a rush of relief fills his chest, and he can’t help but lean in again, just as his heart flutters and his stomach swoops and he thinks, with absolute certainty, he feels the same way.
—   —   —
JARVIS catches the entire exchange on video for him, along with the elated and impromptu make-out session that had ensued immediately afterwards, and while Steve plays back the footage of that initial kiss at least a hundred times, smiling stupidly at his phone, he doesn’t upload it.
It just feels too... intimate, too personal, for the rest of the world to see, at least right now. Steve just wants to keep the moment—and Tony—to himself for a little longer, and so, what he posts instead is the time-lapse of him drawing the large, looming Tower and the cityscape surrounding it.
—   —   —
Days later, he posts another sped-up sketch. This time, it’s one of Tony, with that big, gorgeous grin, that familiar twinkle in his eyes; it’s the exact expression that came over his face after Steve had kissed him, and it feels good, committing it not only to memory, but to paper as well.
But his followers aren’t completely clueless, he knows that, and it’s over the next few weeks—during which Steve gets a little more confident in uploading his drawings of Tony—that they begin to suspect something might be going on between the two of them.
Steve, of course, never outright confirms nor denies their claims, though he does, three months into their relationship, film that “walk into the room naked and record your boyfriend’s reaction” challenge, and that pretty much says it all.
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