#and she does it with a moue and very confused as to why he’s answering this way. has she done anything? why is he so angry at her?:(

[hsslilly-blog]

claire should be allowed to engage in psychological warfare against hunt. and my god if she isn't the greatest psyop of them all

[littleladymab]

did someone say stardust!jonmartin AU

I DID, and @pizza-snake​ and I have been talking about it all day. We have some details all worked out, but not a very coherent outline of those facts. Will I write a full fic for it? Maybe, but until then, I will write snippets and add to this list of ideas: 

Tristan is Martin, who is trying to win the approval of his Mother 

He promises to bring her a star to show how much he does love her!!! 

Dunstan is Tim, so he’s actually Martin’s roommate. 

He’s a good friend, and is also “yo, listen, you don’t have to prove anything to her???? She’s an awful person to yoU????” 

He had a dalliance on the other side of the wall once, won’t stop talking about her, Martin is convinced she’s made up but is too kind to say so. 

He's been trying to go back but he can't schmooze the guard anymore because he wizened up to Tim's antics 

Lamia is Jonah, an aging warlock who just wants to stay young and powerful forever. 

He hears of a fallen star and wishes to retrieve it so that he can have it’s eyes

The successors are the other Avatars 

NO They’re not related they are just trying to do a power grab when Gertrude dies

Septimus is Peter Lukas

Primus is Simon Fairchild

Una is Sasha 

Which makes Ditchwater Sal the Stranger, who keeps her prisoner! 

Gertrude dies and persnaps she has this powerful gem that can be used to let whichever Avatar has it to bring about their own Apocalypse or something and as one final ‘fuck you’ to the avatars she just ollies it into the stratosphere

It hits Jon, The Most Disagreeable Star to ever fall to Stormhold. 

Georgie is Captain Shakespeare, her first mate (and girlfriend) is Melanie, and Daisy and Basira are there too

When I write this as a Full Fic, I will have shenanigans, don’t you worry (you remember in the book how there is this whole secret society mentioned and then it’s only mentioned twice and never discussed and it’s like what the HELL DOES THIS ALL MEAN yeah I need to give the girls SOMETHING to do)

And for sticking around, here’s a little scene for you all to enjoy 

++++

Dancing vs Dueling

Georgie settles into her stance, hands lifted carefully before her, weight on her back foot. 

Martin stares at her dumbly, his grip completely wrong on his sword, and confusion written over every inch of him. 

She taps the blade of his sword with her own. “Come on, Blackwood. At least try to pay attention.” 

He flushes as he settles in to mimic her stance, though with a bit more flair that completely necessary. Alright, so maybe he has had a little training, but not nearly enough. “Right,” he says. “Sorry.” 

“No need to be sorry,” she says, “just follow my movements.” 

Dueling is a dance of its own. It needs two people on even footing, a balance of rhythm. A back and forth between partners. 

Against Melanie, it has always felt like an argument — but a scripted one, the sort of witty reparté and banter that belong on the stage. Dancing and dueling, though Melanie is a better dueler than a dancer. But it is a pace that is comfortable and familiar and Georgie loves it as much as she loves her partner. 

The first few steps with Martin are a fumble, but Georgie is patient (and strict). Each error she resets them back to the beginning. “Again,” she says, as Martin shuffles the wrong foot forward on an advance. “Again,” she says, as he grips too high up the hilt. “Again,” she says, as he nearly stabs Basira with a blade pointed too low and his own shoelaces coming undone. 

He doesn’t argue. He just resets on her command. 

Dueling is a dance that is hard to learn, but Martin proves an apt student. 

Jon, on the other hand, is incredibly stubborn. Rivals Melanie’s level of stubbornness, though she knows better than to say it outloud. (She is certain that Martin has picked up on it as well, though, and enjoys sharing the look of fond exasperation with him when the pair is at odds.) 

One look at Jon, and Georgie knew that he is not cut out for dueling. His wrists, for one thing, barely look strong enough to wield the carving knife at dinner. 

So she teaches him to dance instead. 

If he is what she suspects him to be, then he’s not a very graceful one. Perhaps the rhythm of the heavens abandoned him when it was forced to inhabit such knobby knees and bony elbows. 

“Chin up,” she says when she catches him staring at their feet again. “At least try to look like you enjoy my company.” 

This gets him to flush in embarrassment, and he mutters an apology that’s something along the lines of how he does, actually, enjoy her company. And that’s why he doesn’t want to be rude and tread on her feet. 

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m a strong woman,” she tells him, sweeping him across the deck of her ship as he stumbles to keep up. “I’d rather like it if you looked me in the eyes while we’re dancing.” 

He looks up at her sharply, as if she had said something that made him alarmed, but all she does is wink and his lips form a perfect moue. He must have practiced that while looking down and observing the rest of them. 

When Georgie and Melanie dance, she can feel Jon’s eyes on them — studying their movements, their footwork, the unspoken give and take as they obey the beat of the song. 

The next time she dances with Jon, he’s more sure of himself. He rarely checks his feet. He keeps Georgie’s gaze, like a challenge, and she can’t help but smile. He dances like it’s a duel, a game of take and give. 

“Dancing is a partnership,” Georgie tells him as she stops them mid-beat. 

His brow furrows. “I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” 

This time, he frowns. “I’m doing it exactly as you and Melanie dance.” 

She expected that, figured it, and rolls her eyes fondly at him. “Then maybe you should dance with Martin.” 

Jon stutters, and to her amusement, the blush turns to a soft diffused glow across the surface of his skin. “Why—?” 

“Are you really asking me that question?” 

He at least doesn’t answer that. 

“Martin?” Georgie calls, turning to glance over her shoulder where the other man is currently looking extremely overwhelmed by the drills that Daisy is trying to run him through. 

Martin looks up eagerly at the sound of his name. “Yes?” 

“Care for a different sort of footwork lesson?” 

“Georgie,” Jon hisses, tugging on her hands to try and pull her attention back. 

“Jonathan,” she teases, and steps aside as Martin arrives. Georgie gently passes Jon’s hands over to Martin and backs away with a courteous bow. “A hint: Avoid getting your feet stepped on, and you’ll make a decent duelist yet.” 

To her utter amusement, neither of them are looking at her as they nod. 

From the upper deck, leaning over the balustrade and looking down at the scene as she mans the gramophone, Melanie gives Georgie a knowing smirk. She starts the song over again from the beginning without waiting for the command. 

Jon and Martin stand hand-in-hand in the middle of the deck, the rest of the crew clearing a space for them — and at least pretending like they’re not looking. Their heads are bent close together, having a brief muttered conversation before their hands settle into the correct place and Martin takes the lead. 

He’s a surprisingly decent dancer, considering how rough his dueling was at the beginning. And where Jon would strain against Georgie’s lead (the way that Melanie would, the conversation that he doesn’t know the words to that he tries to perform anyway), he submits himself to Martin’s careful pace. 

Georgie ascends the short flight of stairs to join Melanie on the railing, letting her arm slip around the other woman’s waist. “Too soon?” she asks as they watch Jon and Martin stutter their way through the steps. 

“More like took long enough,” Melanie replies with a scoff. She tilts her chin down at the two men, as Jon laughs at something and ducks his head against Martin’s chest. “Do they think they’re being subtle?” 

“Jon’s glowing, I don’t know how that is for subtle.” 

“Even when he’s not, Martin looks at him like he’s seen the sun.” 

Georgie snorts and tilts her head against Melanie’s. “Try not to sound too bitter, love, or else I’d think you’re jealous of them.” 

Melanie gives an answering snort of her own. “Was I ever that soppy?” 

“You were that oblivious.” 

Melanie just groans, but doesn’t push the conversation, and instead they continue to watch the two dance. 

[jenniboo311]

Hot Ones: Spider-Man Tries Not to Spill His Secrets While Eating Hot Wings

by jenniboo311

Part 1 of the Hot Ones: Avengers in the Hot Seat series, Part 1 of the Social Butterfly Spidey series

Teen |  17416 Words  |  Chapter 2/3

A nondescript grey metal door opens to admit Happy Hogan, dressed in his typical sunglasses and dark suit, who removes his sunglasses and cautiously peers around before settling his gaze on Sean Evans, who is chatting with two crew members. He marches towards him with purpose and clears his throat to gain his attention. The conversation ceases and they turn to Happy.

Sean offers him a hand to shake and they exchange names and greetings. Happy explains that he will be attending the interview to act as security. After the pleasantries are observed, Sean looks behind Happy at the closed door and asks him in a puzzled manner, "Is the guest of honor not joining us?"

"He'll be along shortly," Happy explains, "Something came up. Something usually does."

Sean gives him an uncertain smile and his eyebrows crease in confusion while Happy rolls his eyes.

"In the meantime we can go over the ground rules," Happy continues. "Spider-Man has agreed to be interviewed and filmed on your show. His identity is to remain concealed and he will not be removing his mask at any point. I've been assured by Mr. Stark's legal team that you have all signed the non-disclosure agreements that were sent over last month. Please keep in mind should you hear or see something that you shouldn't hear or see, that Tony Stark has better lawyers than you do. In short, if something slips and you witness it, keep it zipped or else."

Sean stares dumbfounded at the unfriendly man and his eyes widen as he continues to speak. The two crew members exchange wide-eyed looks and silently and hesitantly shuffle away.

"Err-" Sean begins awkwardly before being interrupted by Happy.

"I'm not done," he says impatiently as he holds up a hand as if to physically stop him. Sean blinks and Happy continues, "You are free to ask him whatever you want, however he reserves the right to not answer. The only exceptions," he inclines his head to pin Sean with an intense stare that is intended to be intimidating, "are that you may not ask him who he is, anything probing about his friends and family, the location of his residence, how he became enhanced, and probing questions on the exact nature of his abilities. He will not be entertaining any questions of that nature so you can forget about it."

Happy pauses to pull his phone from his pocket and look down to check a message, and Sean takes the distraction to flick his eyes to the right and share an alarmed look with a coworker. Sean's eyebrows climb his forehead and his mouth frowns in a moue of baffled displeasure before settling on a helpless shrug. Happy taps out a response before looking up to address Sean once again. Sean snaps his eyes back to Happy and blanks his face so as not to get caught.

"As per our agreement I have brought our own order of wings and I will supervise you opening fresh, sealed bottles of all the sauces. You will keep the wings in my sight at all times until the interview begins. No funny business or we walk."

Sean shakes his head and tries to placate him, "Hey man, we'd never poison Spider-Man. No funny business here. We're just going to eat chicken and talk. Is this strictly necessary?"

"If you understood how many people want him dead you wouldn't be saying that. It's this or nothing."

Sean pauses to regard the grumpy man and cocks his head to the side as he mutters, "'Happy', huh?"

Happy's eyes narrow at the slight and he opens his mouth to retort but is interrupted by the door slamming open and they both turn to regard the newcomers.

Tony Stark saunters in as if he owns the place, which very well could be true, and is followed by a slightly hunched over Spider-Man in civvies and mask who is tenderly holding his ribs.

"I'm just saying," Tony drawls and gestures at the air with his right hand in a careless manner.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah," Spider-Man interrupts exasperated, "Everyone's a critic. Next time I guess I'll just let the nice old lady get creamed by the runaway moving truck, shall I?"

Tony rolls his eyes and grins and is about to retort when his eye catches Happy straightening importantly and tugging on his suit jacket to erase imaginary wrinkles and Tony leads them both over to meet them, forgetting about the squabble he was having with Spider-Man.

Tony arrives first and shakes Sean's hand and they exchange greetings and introductions. Sean looks relieved to have been interrupted from his conversation with Happy, and surprised to see Tony.

"Mr. Stark, I didn't know you would be joining us. It's an honor to meet you," Sean confesses in as professional a tone as he can manage, trying not to fawn in the presence of the two heroes.

"It was either this or attend that board meeting Pepper has been nagging me about for three weeks," Tony shrugged nonchalantly.

"You mean that super important board meeting that Pepper told you to attend or else?" Happy interjects helpfully.

Tony nods thoughtfully, "Yeah, that's the one."

As if on cue, Tony's cellphone rings angrily in his pocket and he promptly sends it to voicemail and smiles at them as if nothing happened.

Spider-Man snorts as he comes to a stop next to Tony and holds out his hand to greet Sean with a shake as well. "Sorry we're late, I had to take care of something."

"No worries, I'm sure you're a busy guy. No harm, no foul," he assures him. "Are you alright?" He gestures at Spider-Man holding his ribs.

Spider-Man makes an effort to straighten and lets his arms fall to his sides, "Yeah I'm good. Nothing to worry about!"

"He had an altercation with a grand piano," Tony whispers sotto voce, cupping a hand to his mouth as though imparting a secret, "Spoiler alert: the piano won."

Spider-Man sighs, aggravated. "Shall we get started?"

Sean shows the two to their dressing room to relax before the interview begins. Happy lags behind with Tony to discuss something and Sean turns to Spider-Man and attempts small talk.

"So, Happy Hogan. He's kind of...intense?"

Spider-Man waves a careless hand at him and huffs out a laugh, "Nah, he's a teddy bear!"

From over Spider-Man's right shoulder, Sean sees Tony distractedly decline another phone call and Happy's head swivel to regard him as if he heard his comment somehow, and makes a gesture with his pointer and middle fingers at his own eyes and then at Sean as if to say, 'I'm watching you'.

Sean raises an uncertain eyebrow and gives him a shaky smile.

________________________

Spider-Man snickers quietly as he texts someone on his phone. Tony and Happy are across the room talking. A young woman working in the crew clutches a stuffed toy to her chest in a death grip as she blushes heavily and hesitantly approaches Spider-Man.

Happy catches sight of her out of the corner of his eye and abandons his discussion with Tony and yells, "Hey! You! Yeah, you!"

The young woman, Tony, and Spider-Man all jump in fright at the sudden loud noise and the woman squeaks and drops what she was holding.

Happy marches forward and steps between them and raises his hands to ward her off.

"Who are you?" He demands at once, "What do you want? Why are you approaching Spider-Man?"

He fires off the questions without giving her a chance to answer and she is visibly flustered.

Tony looks over and saves the poor girl, "Down boy. Give her a break, Hap."

Happy lowers his arms but continues to stare as she stutters.

Spider-Man abandons his texting to watch the unfolding scene before looking down to see the toy the woman had dropped. He reaches down to pick it up and sees that it is a plush Spider-Man toy.

Spider-Man gasps dramatically and Happy spins around on the spot, reaching for his hip holster.

"It's me!" Spider-Man gushes, "I have a plushie!"

Tony grins and lets out a cackle, "Stand down, double oh seven. I think we can handle this."

Spider-Man looks up at Tony and laments, "Oh man, times like this makes me want to unmask so I can license my own merch."

Tony waggles his finger at him. "Yeah that's probably not a sufficient enough reason to unmask."

Spider-Man shrugs comically and answers with a noncommittal, "Hn".

Spider-Man holds up the toy and looks at the young woman over Happy's shoulder and asks, "This yours?"

She gives a small gulp and does her best to gather her courage. "N-no. It's my little brother's. We're both big fans, of all the Avengers really, but you're my brother's favorite."

Spider-Man straightens and his eye lenses widen and then squint in delight. "Yeah?" He asks excitedly.

She nods and explains, "It's his birthday next week and I knew you were scheduled to interview this week, so I was kinda hoping I could get your autograph on the Spider-Man plush I bought him. It would make his whole birthday."

Spider-Man makes a comical cooing noise and not so subtly edges Happy out of the way. Happy huffs, offended, but stands down.

Spider-Man happily signs the toy and she gushes her thanks.

Tony pouts, which they see, and she swiftly stammers out that her brother is a big fan of Iron Man as well, and if it isn't too much trouble would he please sign it as well?

Spider-Man's mask twitches as if he is smirking and Tony perks up at once and complies.

A few crew members walking past see the heroes signing things and hesitantly linger in the doorway hopefully.

Spider-Man laughs gently and beckons them in, starting an avalanche of crew getting selfies and autographs.

Spider-Man leans close to Tony in between photos and whispers, "I'm his favorite."

Tony glares.

Happy hovers nearby, blustering and sweating.

________________________

Spider-Man sits quietly in a chair in his t-shirt, as patiently as Spider-Man is capable of being sitting still for any length of time, while a crew member attaches his microphone.

The relative quiet is interrupted with a low rumble and Spider-Man grasps a hand to his stomach and whines, "Man, I'm starving."

Tony rolls his eyes and snorts, "You're always starving. You're like a black hole for food."

His gut expresses his displeasure again and Tony quips, "You know it's a good thing I'm a billionaire or I'd have gone poor long ago trying to keep up with your metabolism."

Spider-Man spots a complimentary basket of snacks across the room and makes an interested noise. The crew member catches the hint and reassures Spider-Man that he'll be finished soon.

Spider-Man impatiently aims his wrist at the basket and with a gesture and a soft thwip, a sticky rope of synthetic spiderweb shoots out of a cuff on his wrist to adhere to the side. The crew member swiftly forgets what he's doing and stares as his mouth drops open. With a quick yanking motion the basket soars across the room and into Spider-Man's arms with a jaunty, "Yoink!"

Spider-Man rifles through his bounty and after a moment becomes aware that the crew member is still staring. He selects a packaged chocolate bar and sticks the end into the man's gaping maw causing him to instinctively bite down, leaving him with a bar sticking stupidly out of his mouth. This snaps him out of it and as Spider-Man throws a package of cookies at Tony and cracks into a bag of Doritos, the crew member takes the bar out of his mouth, gives a bewildered grin, and breathes, "Cool."

________________________

Spider-Man and Sean both take their seats at the table, ready to start the interview once the crew finishes with the final adjustments to the lights and cameras.

Sean turns to Spider-Man to engage in small talk when they are interrupted with Spider-Man's cellphone ringing.

"Oh man, sorry about that. That's so rude, I forgot to turn it off."

He retrieves it from his pocket to glance at the caller ID and his eye lenses widen in panic.

"Underoos?" Tony questions, concerned.

Spider-Man quickly declines the call and silences the phone. "It's Pepper, she's started calling me now. Looks like you're in big trouble, Tony."

Tony waves away the comment and affects a blasé attitude, but the accompanying laugh sounds just a shade nervous.

________________________

Spider-Man has one wing left on the board to tackle and he squirms uncomfortably in his chair. He looks as though he has been through a war, gasping, groaning, and sweat decorating his throat and exposed upper lip.

He squirms again and bites his lip to hold in an extremely manly whimper when Sean quirks an eyebrow and questions, "Doing okay over there, Spidey?"

"Uhhh..." He hedges, "I'm not gonna lie, man. I'm busting for a piss."

Tony snorts off camera and snarks, "He's so professional."

Spider-Man glares at him and defends himself. "Have you seen how much water and milk I've been guzzling? You try chugging that much and not need to pee!"

He turns hopefully to Sean, "Can we take a super quick break? I just gotta..." He trails off and gestures with a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his dressing room and attached bathroom.

Sean nods with an understanding grin, "Yeah sure, man. Go ahead."

Just as he's about to stand up he pauses, raises his hands near his face, and stares at them.

Sean's eyebrows furrow at the strange behaviour and he stares at him as if he has ten heads. "Spides?" He prompts.

Spider-Man jerks his head up and his eye lenses widen in horror. Sean becomes more confused.

"S-so, what's the protocol here exactly," he sputters, and continues when he only gets more confused stares, "Because I've been touching hot sauce for the past hour and now I've gotta pee and I'm terrified to touch my dick."

Sean blinks and his mouth drops open. The set is dead silent for a beat until with a roar it erupts in laughter.

Spider-Man blinks in confusion and whimpers in an extremely manly way.

________________________

Sean chats with Spider-Man as they stand up from the table at the conclusion of the interview and prepare to take a group photo.

"Thanks again for coming on the show, that was a blast."

"You bet! Thanks for having me!"

"Man, what I wouldn't give to get some of the other Avengers on here too," Sean muses.

Spider-Man turns his head to regard him thoughtfully. Sean returns the look questioningly and he passes whatever test Spider-Man has put him through in his head. He asks for Sean's phone, who complies with a puzzled, "Oookay."

"This is my number. Keep in touch, I'll see what I can do about trapping some victims for you."

He finishes tapping in his number and passes over his own phone for Sean to input his own number.

"Dude, that's your personal number?" Sean asks incredulously.

"Well, kind of," he replies. "It's one of several numbers owned by Stark Industries, but this one is dedicated to Spider-Man. It forwards to my personal cell, so my identity isn't attached to it. It's safe, don't worry! Just keep it to yourself please, yeah? Don't want to get bombarded with marriage proposals or something. I trust you to not sell it online," he finishes with a wink.

Spider-Man turns to talk to Tony and Sean turns to a coworker to mouth, 'Oh my God!'

His coworker flaps his hands at Sean excitedly and Sean murmurs uncertainly, "I think that means we're friends now?!"

________________________

Spider-Man stares down at his phone in horror as the dial tone continues to ring out, indicating the caller has hung up. Tony and Sean snicker at him, no sympathy for his impending murder.

"Yeah so I think I'm going to web sling my way back to the compound. It's going to take too long to go back in the car and she's pissed enough as it is," Spider-Man nervously says. Happy promptly leaves to retrieve a bag from the car.

Tony smirks, "Coward!"

Spider-Man fires back, "Yeah? When's the last time you trained with Nat, Tony?"

Tony flounders for a moment before settling on, "I'm a very busy man. Besides, I'm Iron Man. I don't need to train with Nat. I'm unbeatable and it would be an unfair fight to Nat."

Spider-Man stares at him unimpressed. "I'm telling her you said that. Then we'll see how unbeatable you are, tin can."

Tony's eyes widen in panic before he clears his throat. "Tick tock, Underoos."

Spider-Man's eye lenses flare and he turns to dash to the dressing room, grabbing the bag from Happy just as he steps back into the room. "Thanks, Hap!"

Happy grunts and crosses his arms.

After a few moments Spider-Man returns with the bag slung over his shoulder, and the set goes quiet as they catch sight of Spider-Man in full costume. He hands his bag back to Happy and tinkers obliviously with the web shooters on his wrist, making sure he has enough web fluid for the return trip.

A quiet squeal of excitement from a crew member causes Spider-Man's head to snap up in alarm before relaxing once he determines the cause. His eye lenses squint and his mask twitches in a smile and he gives a soft chuckle.

A crew member begs for another quick picture of him in full gear and he relents, causing another avalanche of pictures. He shrugs helplessly and prays Natasha will bless him with a swift death later.

Not a chance.

[setepenre-set]

Code: Safeword chapter 25

Pairing: Megamind/Roxanne

Rating: M (for sexual content and language)

Summary: Roxanne calls time-out on Metro Man day before the death ray happens.

Additional tags: alien genitalia; a rather surprising amount of plot; sex and social justice

AO3 | FFN

Brainbot 228 hovered near the ceiling of the Lair, moving in a slow, absent spiral, their braincase electricity dancing furiously with thought. They replayed the recording of Designation: Roxanne Ritchi [ status update daddy’s partner ] Request: [ maybe you could ask the other bots too minion said you have an auto record function and I was wondering if maybe you could try to find some really nice footage of your daddy for me nice footage videos of your daddy being nice could you do that for me ] 228 wasn’t entirely certain that they fully understood this request. ‘Nice’ was a very subjective descriptor; they wished they’d been given more specific criteria.

They bowged worriedly to themself. Designation: Roxanne Ritchi had entrusted them—them! specifically!—with a complex request; it was important to get this right!

Of course, they could ask the other bots, but 228 didn’t have much confidence in the others understanding the full implications of ‘nice footage videos of your daddy being nice’, either. Not in the way that organics like Designation: Roxanne Ritchi and Designation: Megamind [ daddy ] would understand it. If they interfaced with all of the others about this, it was likely they’d end up arguing for hours and 228 wouldn’t be able to complete their assignment in a timely fashion, which was clearly unacceptable! Designation: Roxanne Ritchi would be so disappointed! And yet trying to come up with the answer themself wasn’t working, either. It was no good; they’d have to interface. Not the whole swarm, but a small group, maybe just one other bot. A really brilliant bot, who understood organics and— [ !!! ] An idea sparked in 228’s circuitry. They reversed their flight direction, moving downwards and across the Lair, towards the electrical generators, quietly bowging to themself with excitement. This was a good idea! As 228 wound their way through the paths between Daddy’s old machines, though, they found themself growing a little nervous. Zero-Zero-One hardly ever interfaced with any of the other bots anymore, and she was known to be rather snappish when disturbed for insufficient reason. Maybe this hadn’t been such a clever idea… No! No, they had a request to fulfill! A very important job! 228 flew on with renewed determination. They came, at last, to the generator. “Bowg?” they said quietly, sending out a polite pulse of [ apology / request attention ] in the direction of where they sensed Zero’s consciousness in the Network. For a long moment, there was no answer, and then, very slowly, Zero-Zero-One rose from behind the generator. 228 moved their mechanical tendrils in a nervous, uncertain way. [ sleeping ] said Zero, rather caustically [ demand explanation ] 228 moved submissively in the air, letting themself drop a little lower than Zero-Zero-One. [ apology ] they said [ request interface ] The shutter of Zero’s eyepiece narrowed. [ request interface why ] she said [ sleeping ] [ request interface denied ] [ go away or will bite ] [ apology ] [ ! ] [ request interface ] [ ! ] 228 said, their tendrils moving rapidly in agitation. [ urgent 001 specific request interface ] [ ! ] Zero blinked her eyepiece slowly and moved in a slow, languid way to settle atop the generator, mechanical tendrils curled gracefully beneath her carapace. [ zero specific ] [ ? ] she said, sounding, for the first time, interested. [ zero specific why ] [ ? ] 228 moved down to hover cautiously in front of Zero-Zero-One, out of reach of a sudden lunge. [ zero is oldest ] they said [ first ] [ cleverest ] [ zero is first ] said Zero, sounding pleased, preening [ zero is cleverest ] [ zero is best number ] [ most important ] [ necessary for algebra ] 228 bobbed enthusiastically. [ algebra ] they agreed. They sent a recording from one of their earliest memories, back when Zero had still sometimes led the bots into battle as queen. She had led 228’s first battle, during which several things had gone wrong at once—there had been two simultaneous explosions and a fire, and Daddy had been injured and unable to communicate. The bots had nearly panicked and broken ranks, but Zero had reacted instantly, splitting them up into groups to deal with each problem. And she had actually sent 228 to distract Metro Man by biting him! 228 had never been prouder! And when Daddy had fixed their broken jaws, he had told them they were a good bot! [ 228 greatly admiring zero ] they said shyly as the memory replay recording came to an end. There was an electric, wordless ripple of amusement/pleasure in Zero’s mindvoice; 228 gave a little shiver of delight. Pinky and the other bots always thought it was creepy when Zero did that, but 228 had always been fascinated at the way her mindvoice was able to express laughter like an organic. [ zero best understanding of organics ] 228 said, and dared to move a little closer to Zero, who watched the move in a tolerant way. [ request interface ] [ ? ] Zero gave a long, slow blink of her eyepiece, looking at 228. [ request interface accepted ] she said.

“It looks so nice,” Megamind marveled, after he and Roxanne had put up both his new picture and his old picture in its new frame. He flopped down on the bed next to Roxanne, unable to stop himself from smiling, or even to want to stop himself from smiling. Roxanne smiled back at him. She was dressed in a pair of soft purple pajamas—her own, sadly, but then the sweater she’d worn before was definitely dirty now. “I’m glad you like it,” Roxanne said, turning towards him and shifting closer to him, so that their legs were tangled together and his chin was resting on the top of her head. Megamind put his hand on her waist and hummed in contentment. “Thank you,” he said, “and thank you for guessing that I would want to keep the old picture, too. It’s—important. To me.” Roxanne made a wordless, inquiring noise. Megamind curled his fingers in the soft material of her pajamas and closed his eyes. “It always reminded me of you,” he said. “The lighthouse.” Roxanne shifted at that, moving away slightly to look at his face, a small line appearing between her eyebrows. “Because that’s what you did for me,” Megamind explained. “When I was—when we met, I—I had decided not to commit suicide, by the time we met,” he said, “but I was—I had always planned on dying young. I mean—I always knew being a super villain was a lifelong commitment; I just hadn’t—anticipated it lasting this long,” he added, with a nervous laugh. She took a sharp breath at that, an inhalation like a reaction to pain. (should he—should he not have brought this up? it had felt—he’d wanted her to understand—) "I hadn’t been planning on making it happen,” he went on, words coming a little faster now, “but I had been planning on—letting it happen. I wasn’t—very careful. With myself. I was hoping that—well, anyway.” He lifted his hand from Roxanne’s waist for a moment to gesture dismissively. “But then I met you,” he said, “and you were so—so utterly fascinating and—and you treated me like—and so I wanted to make sure that I—that I got to see you again, got to talk to you more, got to—so that’s—that’s why—” He gestured again, at the old print of the lighthouse. “I was drowning,” he said, “and you were the lighthouse.” Roxanne made a soft, pained noise. There were tears rising in her eyes, Megamind was dismayed to see. Oh no—he shouldn’t have brought this up— “I’m so sorry, Megamind.” Megamind blinked, confused. Why was she apologizing? “Sorry?” he said. “I’m sorry you were—I’m sorry you were so unhappy,” she said, “and I’m—I’m sorry I didn’t—I’m sorry I didn’t help you.” Megamind frowned, really confused now. “But you did,” he said. “I told you. You saved me.” Roxanne shook her head, her lips pressed together in a line. “I didn’t, though,” she said, a bitter note of what sounded like self-recrimination in her voice, “I should have noticed. I should have—I should have talked to you.” “Well, it wasn’t like I was going to tell you this then, Roxanne,” Megamind said, reaching out to touch the hard line of her mouth, tracing over her lips until they relaxed and softened beneath his touch. Her mouth moved in a little moue of—disagreement, he thought, or frustration. “I didn’t trust you yet,” he said. He moved his hand to touch the little beauty mark below her mouth—god, how many times had he imagined doing that? And now he could. “But I do, now,” he said, “I trust you. And that’s why I’m telling you. You saved me.” Her mouth moved in a frustrated way again. “No,” she said. “I didn’t—I didn’t do anything, Megamind.” “I—I mean, maybe not directly,” Megamind said, frowning, “but—that’s what I meant about—about the lighthouse. Saving people isn’t always going out in boats and pulling them out of the water; sometimes it’s—being the light and showing them that there’s a shoreline.” Megamind reached out and stroked her cheek. Roxanne turned her head and pressed a kiss to his fingers. “Does that—does that make sense?” he asked. “Do you see what I mean?” “Yes,” Roxanne said, “yes, I—that makes sense.” She looked up at him again, and just for a moment, there was something in her expression, something— (sad and terribly fragile) And then he blinked and it was gone. Megamind curled his hand around her hip. Had he—surely he hadn’t imagined that expression on her face. Why would she—was she still sad because she thought she hadn’t helped him enough? He’d tried to explain— “I bought it because it reminded me of you,” she said quietly. “The painting. The colors, of course, but mostly—the light. The way it’s—surrounded by darkness but still shining. It just—it reminds me of you.” Megamind’s breath caught. She thought—that was how she saw him? That was— “Oh,” he said, the word trembling at the edges. She tilted her head up and kissed the edge of his jaw and the tiny point of contact, her lips against his skin, seemed to go all through him, as if she’d touched her lips to the surface of a still pond, sending ripples spreading in ever-widening circles, making the water tremble in the wake of her touch. He swallowed. (the light. it reminds me of you.) He felt—as if, instead of pressing her lips to his jaw, she’d kissed his mind, like her love had lit up his soul, like maybe he was shining. (the light.) Like maybe he could be that, for her, because she loved him. “—oh,” he said again. (Roxanne loved him she loved him she loved him) “—that poster was the library’s, originally,” he said, “It used to hang—on the wall next to the romance section, actually, and I never even really looked at it until after we met, but afterwards—you were all I could see in it. And I’d always gone to the library, to get rescue books and sometimes just for the quiet, but after that—I used to sit against the shelves and look at it and I was so sure you’d never love me back; I was so sure that I’d never get the chance, even, to tell you that I loved you, and god, Roxanne, I love you so much.” Roxanne’s arm tightened around him. “I love you, too, Megamind,” she whispered. “I love you.” Megamind closed his eyes. This. This was happening. Roxanne loving him back was actually a thing that was happening. They stayed like that for several minutes, lying quietly together. Megamind, his eyes closed, felt his body relax, felt himself beginning to drift towards sleep. Roxanne made a soft noise and shifted slightly. Megamind made an inquiring sound. “Megamind, I’ve—I’ve been thinking,” she said, voice quiet. Megamind waited for her to go on. “—about you being the Overlord of Metrocity,” she said at last. And—he opened his eyes. Blinked. That was—odd. Because he had—he had the strangest sensation that she hadn’t been going to say that, at first— “About what that means for the plan,” she continued. “I mean—if you go from being the supervillain who runs the criminal underworld to the superhero in opposition to the criminal underworld, isn’t that going to cause—panic? I—I’m worried that I’m screwing this up, Megamind. Like I should have—I don’t know. I didn’t know about—everything you explained last night—I don’t know; I feel like maybe I should have approached this whole thing differently, somehow, but I don’t even—” “No,” Megamind said, reaching up with his free hand to take the hand that Roxanne had on his chest. He laced their fingers together. “No, you’re—the plan is—it’s a good plan, Roxanne. If it—if it doesn’t work, it’ll be because of—” (me) Of course it would be because of him; Megamind knew that he had always been the weakest link in the plan. He couldn’t be trusted with nice things, couldn’t be trusted to interact properly with people, couldn’t be trusted in general; his tendency to fuck things up really could not be overstated and— Roxanne wouldn’t want you to say that about yourself, a quiet voice said, from somewhere inside the swirling vortex of dark thoughts. The unexpectedness of that thought made the rest of his mind go silent and still for a moment, out of sheer shock. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t want him to say that about himself.

(and maybe—maybe—was it possible, then, that it wasn’t completely true?) “—if it doesn’t work, it won’t be because of anything you did or didn’t do,” Megamind went on, pulling his mind back to their conversation with an effort. “And I have thought about this, Roxanne. I’ve been—I want to talk to you about it.” Roxanne took her head from his shoulder, pushing herself up on one elbow instead, looking at him with a serious expression. Megamind shifted to mirror her. He swallowed nervously. (she was still holding his hand; he took courage from that. he could tell her this. he could trust her.) “If I do this,” he said, “then I’m going to have to do this as myself. I—I won’t be able to do it like—like someone who—like someone who’s a real hero.” Roxanne’s fingers tightened around his. She scowled at him. “You are a real hero,” she said, “you already are.” Megamind made an involuntary face and Roxanne gave him a fierce look. “Everything you’ve done, Megamind—” “Yes, exactly,” he said, “everything I’ve done. Even the—the good that I’ve done; it isn’t really the right kind of good, is it? It’s not the kind of good that they give you—medals for, applause for. I’m never going to be able to be a—a shining example, some sort of—flawless hometown hero. I can’t try to pretend to be that.” Roxanne’s frown took on a different quality, less angry, more…concerned? “I don’t want you to pretend to be someone else,” she said. “I wouldn’t ever ask you to—” “I know,” Megamind said softly, giving her hand a squeeze, “I know you wouldn’t, Roxanne.” (and god, he did know. that was a thing he knew. Roxanne wanted him, loved him—as himself and, incredibly, for himself) “That’s why I’m telling you this,” he said. “Because—if this plan works and we do somehow manage to make me the city’s Defender, I’m still going to be the Overlord as well.” There was a moment of silence; Megamind watched Roxanne’s face closely. “How?” she said. Megamind took a sharp, ragged breath, relief welling up from his heart and rushing all through his body. (how. only Roxanne. only Roxanne would ask him that in response to that declaration.) “God, I love you,” he said, voice rough to his own ears. “All right, so—I’m going to tell them—the leaders of the underworld, and as many people as I can get to come to a meeting—I’m going to tell them that the plan is to get me declared Defender.” Roxanne was frowning again. “But how is that going to help?” she asked. “It’ll just be a panic now instead of later; I don’t see—” “No,” Megamind said, “no, it won’t be a panic at all. Not if we phrase it right. I’d—really, Roxanne, I would very much appreciate it if you would be there, if you would help me with this; I want to make sure to get it correct. Because if we do, then there won’t be a panic at all. You see, I’m not going to be the superhero in opposition to the criminal underworld. I’m going to be the superhero who’s on their side.” Roxanne’s mouth shaped itself into an O of understanding; he gestured with their linked hands. “This city doesn’t need a superhero to bust small time drug deals and arrest sex workers. This city needs a more reliable public transport system, better educational programming, more official aid for people below the poverty line—I can do those things! I’ve been wanting to do those things for years, only I’ve never been able to as a supervillain!” “Philanthropy,” Roxanne said slowly, “things like that.” “Exactly! The criminal underworld is functioning fine now; it’s mostly self-sustaining. I’ll still expect them to report to me, and as long as people follow the rules, they won’t have to worry about getting hauled off to jail by the city’s resident superhero. Occasionally, in cases where the rules have been broken, I’ll officially and publicly take a hand, but otherwise, no.” “But is that going to be—I mean, if supervillainy is about the show,” Roxanne said, “then being a superhero has to be, too, right?” “Yes,” Megamind agreed. “Especially since tourism focusing on my battles with Metro Man is such a large part of Metrocity’s economy these days.” Roxanne laughed. “It really is, though, you know,” she said. “Oh, I know,” Megamind said, grinning. “I’ve seen the brochures. ‘A chance to see heroism in action! Up close and personal!’ It’s basically street theatre, really.” She gave him a curious look, smiling at him. “You don’t mind that?” she asked. “Ha, no!” he said, “I love an audience!” She laughed again. “And I do think that people will be entertained enough by watching me dealing with out of town villains,” he said. Roxanne looked interested at that. “Out of town villains?” “Oh, yes—I know Metro Man hasn’t had those kind of problems, but—well, supervillain turned good? Betraying evil? There’s going to be all kinds of other villains out to get me. And besides, I’m not—particularly popular among my peers, now. I’ve gotten plenty of invitations to join forces with various villains, to ally myself with them, but I’m afraid none of them ever lived up to my…well, my standards of evil, shall we say? And villains tend to hold grudges.” “‘Standards’,” Roxanne murmured, looking amused, her lips twitching like they wanted to smile. She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure the word you’re actually looking for here is ‘morals’, Megamind.” He gave her a wry smile but he didn’t contradict her. “There’ll be heroes too, probably,” he said, “that try to attack. Metrocity’s Defender would be an extremely enviable position for any roaming, city-less hero. And they’ll have the excuse of not believing my reformation’s genuine. Convenient for them.” Roxanne made an indignant noise. Then she looked thoughtful. “All of that will probably settle down, though, won’t it?” she said. “In a few years, I mean. That ‘not a genuine reformation’ excuse will be looking pretty thin after a while, and I imagine most of the out of town villains will get the point of accepting that going up against you is a bad idea.” Tipping his head curiously, Megamind looked at her. “You’re… very confident that I’ll be able to defeat them all,” he said. Roxanne rolled her eyes at him. “Please,” she said, “of course you will. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with defeating Metro Man all these years, you probably could have conquered the world by now.” “��if you had been with me, we could have,” he said, too surprised to make it sound like a joke, to shocked to say it with anything but the perfect sincerity that he felt. Roxanne blushed at that; he saw it happen; it was perfectly fascinating, especially this close to her, seeing the heat and the color sweep over her skin. “—anyway, things will settle down in a few years,” Roxanne said, “and we’ll be left with the problem of keeping you in the public eye as a superhero.” Megamind felt himself grinning in what was probably a very ridiculous way. Years. She was talking like this was going to be—she was talking like she planned on keeping him. “Yes, I haven’t really thought that far ahead,” he admitted. “But—up to that point, Roxanne, do you—do you think it could work?” Roxanne bit her lip, her eyes going far away and thoughtful. “I do, yeah,” she said. Her eyes focused on his again. “That’s a really good plan, Megamind,” she said. Megamind caught his breath in delight. “Do you really think so?” he asked. She smiled at him, laughing a little, probably at his excited expression. “Yeah,” she said, “yeah, I do.” Megamind made a quiet joyful noise and lifted their joined hands so that he could kiss hers—the back of it, then her wrist. He turned her hand over so that he could press a kiss to her palm. “Hmm,” she said, sounding intrigued. He looked up at her questioningly. “Hero training,” she said, “like you were talking about doing for whoever Wayne picked out, remember?” “Of course; hero training—what about it?” he asked. “Oh! You mean as—” “—as a long term possibility for superhero presentation, yeah,” Roxanne said, her face alight—god, but she was beautiful when she was scheming. “Something to keep in mind at least, right? Or—do you think there might eventually be other villains wanting to reform?” Megamind blinked, thinking. “That,” he said after a moment, “that is really a very interesting idea. I—I think there actually might! I mean, you know Lady Doppler retired a few years back—she got a serious girlfriend, apparently, and decided the risks of villainy outweighed the fun after all—not exactly the same thing as what you’re talking about, training villains to be heroes instead, but it does seem…promising, wouldn’t you say?” “It wouldn’t even have to be just villains from Metro City!” Roxanne said, “If you set up a training program, you could get villains from all over!” “Yes, especially since—” Megamind paused for a moment, his mind veering off in another direction, “—you know this is going to be a—a very big deal, Roxanne, if this plan actually works,” he said. “Not just for me, or even just for Metrocity, but—nobody’s ever done what you’re trying to do before. Not the way you’re doing it, or on this kind of a scale.” Roxanne frowned. “There have been villains that reformed before,” she said. “Yes, but all of them were relatively small time,” Megamind said, letting go of Roxanne’s hand to gesture, “they weren’t supervillains; there really is a difference, and besides, none of them ever became their city’s Defender! If this plan works, then people are going to notice.” “Do you think it might?” Roxanne asked. “Work, I mean,” she added, when he gave her a questioning look. “You said before that you were sure it wouldn’t, but now you’re saying ‘if’. Did you change your mind?” Megamind took a breath, let it out. He reached between the two of them and brushed his fingertips against the material of Roxanne’s pajamas, feeling the texture of it, feeling the slickness of the buttons and the movement of her body as she breathed, centering himself with the physical reality of her here, with him. (this was real. she was real and here and she loved him.) “I feel—oddly hopeful. About it,” he admitted. “Which is rather terrifying, really. Being certain you’re going to fail is much less frightening than thinking you might have a chance at success. And I do. Think that it might have a chance.” He gave a quiet, shocked laugh. “It sounds like absolute insanity,” he said, “hearing myself say that, but then—” he reached up and brushed Roxanne’s hair behind her ear, “—but then, I never thought I could have this, either.” Roxanne smiled at him and he trailed his hand down her jaw. “And you were wrong,” she said. “Yes,” he said a bit breathlessly, “I was so, so wrong.” Roxanne’s eyes flickered away from his for a moment, and again Megamind saw in her expression something— “I’ve—I’ve also been thinking,” she said, laying down on the pillow, one arm curled beneath her head, her other hand lying on the pillow between the two of them. “Yes?” Megamind asked, looking down at her, watching her expression. “More about the brainbots,” she said, looking up at him with a smile. (and again he had the strange impression that she hadn’t been going to say that originally) “What about the brainbots?” he asked. “—okay, so the brainbots interface with each other through the queen,” Roxanne said, looking up at him. “But how do you communicate with them?” “Oh! There are several different ways—during battles, a lot of times their responses are due to training exercises that Minion and I design for them,” Megamind said, gesturing. “The brainbots know that certain circumstances warrant different reactions on their part, and they perform their part without me needing to communicate with them in that moment. “That’s part of what I meant, about updating their programming in regards to you,” he went on, “Unexpected presences in the Lair trigger an ‘alert’ response in the brainbots. That’s why they went to go wake Minion. But the—hmm—the severity of the unexpected presence is what determines the intensity of the brainbots’ alert response. And because I was with you, and they’ve seen Minion and I interacting with you before, during non-kidnapping times, their alert response was relatively mild. A different unexpected presence would have caused them to give an alarm and move to detain the person. “My guess is they were more confused, this morning, than anything else. Sometimes if one bot encounters an issue that they’re not sure how to resolve, they’ll interface with other bots. Sometimes if they have a large enough group interfacing, they’ll even set up their own queen without me!” “They’re so smart,” Roxanne said, admiration in her voice, and Megamind preened a little on behalf of his bots. “I know; aren’t they?” he said, smiling proudly. “And—so the disguise watch also functions as a communicator; you know that. Usually it’s Minion and I who use it to communicate with each other, but there’s also a setting on the watch that allows me to verbally call the brainbots—it doesn’t come out as sound waves on their end, though; my instructions go straight to their neural processing units. Which, interestingly, actually allows them to respond faster than if they had to parse the words as sound waves! “They do understand verbal instructions, though; during direct interactions, I just talk and they comprehend. Sometimes during a particularly intricate battle, if I need to be giving them instructions, I’ll wear a wire that picks up small sounds—I’ll click my teeth together; Morse code—well, not actual Morse code; it’s a system that I made up, so that even if someone else overhears the clicks, they won’t be able to decipher what I’m saying. Hmm, what else—ah! a program I can use to communicate with them electronically, by typing. Sort of like—texting, or email, I suppose. And they send me information the same way. “I tried teaching them to speak themselves, too, but that plan failed. I honestly can’t tell if the problem is some sort of mental disconnect for them, or if they just don’t want to learn to talk; they can be very stubborn sometimes.” Roxanne made a humming sound of comprehension; Megamind looked down at her, at her face. He was convinced now that he hadn’t been imagining it, those flashes of unhappiness in her expression, those moments of hesitation in which she decided not to say what she’d been originally planning. She’d done it that morning, too, he realized. He hadn’t been really consciously aware of it, but looking back now, he remembered the way she’d paused before asking him about the union leaders. Paused because she’d originally wanted to ask him something else. She was worried about something—about something, he was fairly certain, to do with him. Which was a rather dismaying realization, the thought that he’d already managed to screw this thing between him and Roxanne up, that he was already doing this wrong, that she was already regretting— With an effort, he swallowed down his rising panic. (confirmation bias, he told himself forcefully. she just told you that she loves you. you have no evidence that you’ve done something irrevocably awful.) “Do you—have any more questions, Roxanne?” he asked, hoping that if he gave her an opening, she’d tell him what was wrong, tell him so that he could fix it— “About the brainbots?” Roxanne said, “or generally?” “Either, really,” Megamind said, “You can—ask me anything you like.” Roxanne raised her eyebrows, a smile playing at the edges of her lips. “And you’ll tell me anything I want to know?” she asked teasingly. “Yes,” Megamind said with complete seriousness. “I will.” Roxanne looked up into Megamind’s face. There was little line between his brows; she reached up and smoothed it away, wondering why he looked so serious all of a sudden. (ask me anything you like; I’ll tell you anything you want to know) That was a hell of a promise, did Megamind realize that? Especially considering what kind of overly inquisitive person she was, the kind of person who wanted to pry and pry until she knew everything. “What was your name,” she asked, “before you changed it to Megamind?” He blinked at her, like he’d been expecting a very different sort of question. “It was Syx,” he said. He didn’t pronounce the word quite like the number, the word slid from the s to the x in a strangely smooth way. “Syx,” she repeated experimentally, “why Syx?” “It was what my parents called me,” he said, “strictly speaking, I don’t think it’s actually a name in my language. Means something like ‘my love’ or ‘my dear’; I don’t think you’d really name a child ‘my dear’.” “Because it’s like ssshsss,” Roxanne said, “right? Like how to say ‘I love you’. The s-sound must be ‘love’.” Megamind went still when she repeated the ‘I love you’ phrase he’d taught her. “—ssshsss,” he said, “yes—that’s right. The s-sound is love; that’s why it sounds like ‘syx’.” “How did the warden know to call you that?” Roxanne asked, “I mean, you said you were eight days old when you landed.” “Oh, I could say a few words,” Megamind said, “that was the one I said most often, so he insisted they call me that.” He laughed. “I remember Dr. Kelley didn’t want to. ‘It could mean anything’ he said, ‘it could mean mother or hello, for all we know’.” “You remember this?” Roxanne asked. Megamind’s powers of memory really were quite extraordinary. Really very—fascinatingly alien, just as much as everything he’d told her about being able to breath underwater, about being able to heal without scars. “Oh, yes,” Megamind said, and then grinned. “Dr. Kelley suggested they name me ‘John Walker’.” Roxanne sat up and tilted her head thoughtfully. “John makes sense, I guess,” she said. “John Doe, or—the warden’s name is John, isn’t it? But why ‘Walker’?” Megamind sat up, too, still grinning. “Nickname,” he said, “think about it for a minute.” Nickname? The nickname for ‘John’ would obviously be ‘Johnny’, but she didn’t see— Johnny. Johnny Walker. “—Johnny Walker Blue,” Roxanne said, “oh my god, Megamind, that is the worst thing I’ve ever heard—” Megamind laughed again. “That’s what the warden said! ‘We are not naming the kid after your favorite alcohol, Len.’ Personally, in retrospect, I think it’s pretty funny.” he gave her a sly look from beneath his lashes. “My species called themselves the M’ega, by the way.” M’ega— “You made your name a pun?” Roxanne said, “Megamind, you are so—” she stopped, laughing and shaking her head. “Well, why not?” Megamind said with a grand gesture at his own cranium. “It already had the double meaning of ‘large head’ and ‘very intelligent’! It was just too good to pass up!” “You are ridiculous,” Roxanne said. He gave her another smile from beneath his lashes, this one a little sharper, more wicked. “And you love that about me,” he said, “don’t you?” “I really, really do,” Roxanne said. She leaned forward, putting her hand on his knee, and quickly kissed that impish smirk of his. He went still again at that, like he still hadn’t quite expected her to kiss him. “And I love your name, too,” she added, leaning back but leaving her hand on his knee. “You wouldn’t be you if you’d chosen something ordinary.” He looked surprised at that, and then gratified. “Did the doctor think it was funny when you chose it?” she asked. Megamind’s eyes dropped from hers, his smile disappearing. “—ah,” he said, “no, Doctor Kelley had—left. By then.” “Oh,” Roxanne said, taken aback by the sudden change of tone. “I’m—I’m sorry.” Megamind looked up at her and gave her a tight little smile. He waved a dismissive hand. “It’s all right,” he said, “It doesn’t matter.” “Megamind,” Roxanne said, catching his hand and holding it gently between both of hers.

She swallowed, looked down at his hand in hers.

(This wasn’t about her; she didn’t need to make it about her, but maybe Megamind needed to hear—)

“Megamind, it always matters when your father leaves you,” she said quietly. His hand jerked in hers, his shoulders twitching sharply, too, as though an electrical shock had gone through him. Roxanne looked up at the movement. “Father?” he said, “He wasn’t my father.” “—I’m sorry,” Roxanne said, “yeah, you probably don’t want to call him that, now; I should have thought—I just mean—even if he and the warden weren’t able to legally adopt you, it still counts emotionally, Megamind. You’re still allowed to be upset about—“ “What? What are you—it was never a matter of ‘weren’t able’,” Megamind said, the fingers of his free hand curling tightly on his knee, “it was a matter of ‘didn’t want’. I—they were never going to—there was never any possibility of them adopting me.” Roxanne stopped and stared at him for a moment. Megamind gave her a look of impatient incomprehension. Oh. Oh no.

He didn’t know. They hadn’t told him.

He didn’t know.

And of course she wasn’t—she was never going to keep something like this from Megamind; she couldn’t, but how in the hell was she supposed to tell him?

This wasn’t something he should be hearing from her; she shouldn’t be the one to tell him this—

(the sick twist of envy in the pit of her stomach)

(at least he had someone who—)

(stop thinking that stop feeling that what’s wrong with you Roxanne)

—god, Megamind deserved so much better than this, so much better than—

(her) “The warden,” Roxanne said, words spilling out too quickly, like maybe if she said them fast enough they wouldn’t hurt so much, “when I was talking to him, before I interviewed him, he said that he’d wanted to adopt you with the prison doctor when you were a kid, but that Dr. Kelley had been afraid that people would—well, that they would think they were gay and use that as excuse to take you away from them completely and didn’t they tell you any of this?” Megamind stared at her, his breathing quick and shallow, his face getting paler and paler. Roxanne let go of his hand to gesture wildly. “I just—I mean, I assumed he’d told you! He really didn’t tell you?” “No,” Megamind said, “No, he did not tell me that; he never told me that; neither of them—why didn’t they tell me?” he asked, voice rising. “I thought no one—why wouldn’t they tell me?” Both of his hands were twisted in the sheets now, his fingers balled up into fists. Roxanne reached out and hesitantly touched the back of one hand; Megamind’s breath hissed between his teeth and he let go of the sheet to grab her hand instead, clutching at it desperately, as if they were out to sea and he was afraid they’d be swept apart if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

Roxanne put her other hand over his, hating the way she didn’t know how to make him feel better. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m so sorry that you had to find out like this. From me.” He gave a short, rather strangled laugh. “No,” he said, “no, don’t be sorry; I’m glad, because it sounds like I probably wouldn’t have found out at all, otherwise and Roxanne, do you think you could hold me for a minute?” “Yes, of course,” Roxanne said immediately. “Here—” She shifted the two of them, moving to lie down and tugging Megamind’s hand, pulling him down with her, so that her arm was around him, his head on her shoulder. Megamind took a shuddery breath and turned more towards her, pressing his forehead to the side of her neck, one of his hands tucked beneath his chin, the other clutching at the material of her shirt. Roxanne wrapped her other arm around him, too, and held him tightly.

Roxanne just—she just kept finding more ways that the world had hurt him and it made her so—sad, yes, it did make her sad, but mostly what it made her was angry.

She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to the top of Megamind’s head.

I love you so much, she thought. Fuck each and every person who ever hurt you; fuck them individually and specifically.

(he’d asked her to hold him, actually asked; that felt—he was so—Megamind was just so trusting and open and incredibly sweet, and Roxanne knew she didn’t deserve that, but god, she wished she did.) For a moment, they just stayed like that, as Megamind’s breathing gradually slowed and became more normal. “Sorry,” he said, voice quiet. “You haven’t done anything you need to apologize for,” Roxanne said, her voice just as quiet. “I love you, Megamind. Holding you is something that I want to do.” Megamind gave a breathy kind of laugh that brushed against the skin of her neck and stirred her hair. “That’s—that is really incredible,” he said, “I just—I ask for a lot from you; I feel—I don’t know, I feel like I should apologize.” “For needing help?” Roxanne asked. She shook her head slightly, careful not to dislodge Megamind. “Everybody needs help. And we’re partners, Megamind; I want to help you.” Megamind shifted, so that he was lying next to her, their arms around each other. He looked closely at her face, studying her expression. “And you wanting to help me—it’s really not because you feel sorry for me,” he said slowly, carefully, as if he was speaking a foreign language for the first time. “It’s—because you love me. You want to help me—because you love me.” Roxanne’s heart pulsed in her chest, almost painful with a fierce sort of joy. “Yes,” she said, feeling tears rising in her eyes as she smiled at Megamind, “yes, that is exactly why.” Megamind gave her a quick, fluttering smile. His eyes dropped to her mouth and he reached up to touch her mouth, light and quick. Then he looked up into her eyes again. “I want to help you, too, you know,” he said. “Because I—I love you, too, Roxanne. And we’re—partners. Like you said. And so I want to help you, too. You do know that, don’t you?” “Of course,” she said reassuringly. Megamind frowned, looking frustrated. Roxanne stroked his side soothingly and he sighed, relaxing a little. “Why wouldn’t he tell me?” he asked, voice quiet. “The warden, why wouldn’t he tell me that?” “I don’t know, sweetheart,” Roxanne said. “It—might have been that he was worried that telling you would hurt you worse. Offering something you wanted so badly and then immediately taking it away. But I don’t know for sure. You can ask him, if you want to. It’s understandable to want an answer to that. I’ll help you ask if you need me to.” Megamind took a sharp breath. “Oh,” he said, as though he’d just figured something out. He reached out and touched her face, his fingertips gentle against her cheek. “Is that what you’re doing?” he asked, voice soft. “Are you worried it’s going to hurt me? Is that why you aren’t telling me what’s wrong?” It seemed to Roxanne that her heart froze in her chest. She went very still. “What?”

...to be continued.

Thank you for the reviews; I very much appreciate them! I'm so glad to hear that so many of you loved Zero! She's based off of my much-beloved cat, so hearing that other people love her makes me very happy. Megamind talking about how he communicates with the brainbots was inspired by a question from Elotaria. The line where Megamind compares Roxanne to the lighthouse in the first picture is from something @displacerghost said. Ghost, thank you so much. And another thank you to Ghost for beta-reading this chapter! I’ve never had a beta before; this is very exciting.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!