Just remembered I never posted my spy vs spy writing drabbles lmfao...
(ART BY @mageny-the-silly WOOOO GO FOLLOW THEM THEY'RE AWESOME.)
These are old and wrote like uhhh skits? Comic outlines???? Idfk anymore
Under the cut = said drabbles
SETTING: A rain-drenched metropolitan center, 1926. Every streetlamp creates a halo in the heavy fog.
[SCENE START]
EXT. THE HIGH-STREET - NIGHT
The rain is a relentless drumbeat on the cobblestones. WHITE SPY strolls down the sidewalk as if he’s on a Parisian runway. He wears a translucent silk-lined trench coat that glistens under the gaslights. He doesn't look back, but his smirk is visible in the reflection of every shop window he passes.
Fifty yards behind, BLACK SPY is a shadow among shadows. He moves with the rugged efficiency of a predator, his fedora pulled low to keep the rain out of his eyes. He is focused on the "drop-off" briefcase White is swinging casually by his side.
White Spy stops abruptly at "Vincenzo’s Fine Millinery." He steps inside, the little bell ringing.
Black Spy presses himself into a narrow, filthy alleyway across the street, teeth gritted. He watches through the window as White Spy spends ten minutes trying on increasingly ridiculous, high-fashion hats. White stops at a wide-brimmed white fedora, checks his reflection, and then—deliberately—adjusts his pocket square while looking directly at the spot where Black is hiding.
White Spy exits the shop, but instead of moving on, he stops at a street-side flower cart. He points to a bunch of Stargazer Lilies. He scribbles a note, hands the vendor a heavy gold coin, and points toward the alleyway.
BLACK SPY ducks further into the trash. A moment later, the shivering flower vendor enters the alley and hands him the bouquet.
THE NOTE READS: "They match your temper, darling. Careful—the pollen is a paralytic."
Black Spy sneezes, drops the lilies as they begin to hiss with green gas, and lets out a silent, guttural snarl. His fuse has officially hit zero.
EXT. THE PIER - LATER
The city noise fades, replaced by the creaking of timber and the lapping of the harbor. White Spy reaches the end of the pier, the "drop-off" point. He stands by a pile of wet, stinking fish crates, looking out at the water.
Black Spy doesn't use a gadget. He doesn't use a trap. He launches himself from the shadows like a cannonball.
They hit the deck with a wet, heavy THUD. They roll through the mud, the grime, and a burst-open crate of slimy Atlantic cod.
White Spy is beneath him, pinned against the rough wood. He is covered in fish scales and mud, his pristine white coat ruined, but he is laughing. It’s a breathless, jagged sound of pure sensation-seeking delight.
WHITE SPY
(Eyes half closed, chest heaving, he taps Black’s ruined pinstripe lapel and smiles like: "Bleach won’t even get the fish smell outta this! HA!” )
Black Spy looks down at his suit—His favorite fucking suit, the suit that represented his self-made pride. It is destroyed. The "spoiled brat" has finally pushed him past the point of logic, past the point of the Embassy, and straight into his lizard-brain.
Black’s hand slams down beside White’s head, wood splintering under his glove. His face is a mask of pure, impulsive rage.
He doesn't throw a punch. He grabs White’s collar and pulls him up into a rage-filled, crushing kiss.
It is violent, messy, and tastes like salt and adrenaline.
White Spy’s brain instantly short-circuits.
The constant "Look At Me" internal monologue goes silent. The loud jazz music in his head stops. For the first time in his life, the thirty empty rooms in his mind are filled with the sheer, burning intensity of another person. He goes limp, his hands clutching Black’s muddy shoulders, his eyes wide.
Black Spy pulls away after a second, breathing hard, his forehead resting against White’s. He looks into White’s dazed, wide-eyed face—finally, mercifully silent.
BLACK SPY
(A dark, warning look that says: "Make me ruin my suit again and I'll kill you. Do you understand?")
White Spy can only nod, his usual sass completely evaporated.
Black Spy stands up, wipes a fish scale off his lip, grabs the briefcase, and stomps off into the fog. White Spy remains on the ground, covered in mud, a dazed, genuine smile on his face as he watches Black go.
He finally got the center of someo- No. He has the center of his universe.
[FADE TO BLACK]
Fanart of the last scene:
AGAIN. ART IS BY MY WONDERFUL SON. WE LOVE MY WONDERFUL SON HERE. HIS ART IS GORGEOUS.
alright. Now for the other one... sishhshs
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SETTING: A desolate, rain-slicked pier in 1926. The fog is thick enough to choke a horse. A single flickering streetlamp illuminates a wooden crate marked "PROPERTY OF THE EMBASSY."
[SCENE START]
EXT. THE PIER - NIGHT
WHITE SPY lies sprawled across the wet cobblestones. His eyes are "X"s. A comically oversized anvil sits nearby, having clearly done its job. Above his head, a small GHOSTLY CLOCK hovers in the air, ticking backward from 59:59.
BLACK SPY emerges from the shadows, stepping over a puddle. He isn't gloating; he’s efficient. He looks at the clock. One hour of peace.
He kneels beside the "corpse" of White Spy. From his pinstripe vest, he produces a small, velvet jewelry box. He opens it to reveal a Diamond Ring.
This is no romantic gesture. Under a magnifying glass, the "diamond" is a glowing vacuum tube—a High-Frequency Tracking Beacon.
Black Spy takes White Spy’s limp, pale hand. He begins to slide the ring onto the finger. He is focused, a small, triumphant smirk tugging at his beak. He’s imagining the next hour: he can finally infiltrate the White Embassy while his rival is stuck in "limbo."
BLACK SPY
(A silent, sharp exhale of breath. He’s almost got it over the knuckle.)
CLICK.
The sound is tiny, but in the silence of the pier, it sounds like a gunshot.
Black Spy freezes. He looks down. His left foot is resting on a loose cobblestone that has depressed three inches into the ground.
A small, hand-painted sign pops out of the nearby crate: "Sucker!"
[ACTION SEQUENCE]
A mechanical whirring comes from beneath the pier. Before Black Spy can jump, a RUSTED IRON POLE—jagged and spear-like—telescopes upward through the gaps in the wood.
It pierces clean through Black Spy’s chest.
He gasps, a puff of grey smoke escaping his mouth. He doesn't fall; the pole keeps him upright, pinned like a butterfly in a collection box.
THE BLEED-OUT
Black Spy’s hands shake. He looks at the ring, still halfway on White Spy’s finger. He tries to push it the rest of the way—to at least finish the mission—but his strength is failing.
Dark, ink-like blood begins to spill onto the white fabric of his rival’s suit.
Black Spy slumps forward. His head comes to rest on White Spy’s shoulder. To any passerby in the fog, they would look like two exhausted lovers leaning on each other after a long night of dancing.
THE TWIST
Black Spy’s vision blurs. He looks up at the ghostly clock hovering over White Spy:
00:05... 00:04... 00:03...
A second GHOSTLY CLOCK suddenly appears above Black Spy’s own head. It starts its count:
59:59... 59:58...
White Spy’s "X" eyes suddenly snap open. They rotate like slot machine reels until they settle into pupils.
White Spy takes a deep, rattling breath of life. He feels the weight on his shoulder. He looks up and sees the pole. He looks down and sees Black Spy, now gray-faced and fading into his own "hour of death."
White Spy doesn't push him away. Instead, he looks at his own hand. He sees the tracking ring halfway on his finger.
He looks at the dying Black Spy. With a mocking, gentle smile, White Spy takes the ring off, inspects the "diamond," and shoves it onto blacks own ring finger, winking and placing a kiss on blacks cheek.
"THANKS FOR THE RING DOLL, BUT IT FITS YOU BETTER."
He then reaches into Black Spy’s pocket, takes out a fresh cigar, lights it, and leans back against the pole that is currently skewering his rival. He blows a puff of smoke into Black Spy's face.
The smoke forms the words: "SEE YOU AT 2:00 AM."
[FADE TO BLACK as White Spy begins to whistle a tune while waiting for his rival to respawn.]
[THE END]
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Fanart of one scene:
Ooooohshaalals anddddd....
I can't find the entire drabble but this was a screenshot n this fanart was actually a request from me lmao... I love my son hes so awesome. ^^
