#being bitter about not even knowing Joker's name or where he came from

[distort-opia]

Would batman have keep jokers ashes in the arkham games ?

...Why would you ask me something so devastating.

You're sending my mind places, because Joker has no known name on record or next of kin, so where would his ashes go-- in any of the stories in which he died, like Arkham City, or Injustice: Gods Among Us, or Perp Walk? Would they just stay there in the funeral home unclaimed until enough time passed legally for someone there to dispose of them? Would Harley try to get them? Or would Gordon and everyone else try to dispose of the ashes as quickly as possible, due to Joker's status? I think it might be the latter; Joker's been likened to a cult leader, so there'd definitely be people (who both hate him or worship him) interested in stealing his remains.

But this is also a perfectly good excuse for Bruce to take the ashes. Even though in the Arkham City comic he says he doesn't need trophies from Joker anymore, I still see him doing this, while telling himself it's for maintaing the peace in Gotham or whatever. And he'd try to dispose of them but... he's notoriously unable to let go, isn't he? So long story short, yes, I do think Bruce would keep Joker's ashes :)

[batmanfruitloops]

Can you guess who's next? Eddie, our favorite riddle-spewing gremlin!

Eddie was born to two parents where neither wanted to take care of him so that's pretty unfortunate, but it wasn't too bad at first. His grandma, Emily Nashton, happily raised Ed from a baby when her son Elliot (I'll be referring to him by his middle name as Eddie is actually a jr. - also he really hates the name "Edward") unceremoniously dropped him off at her house. She'd have preferred to just dote on and spoil him, but she'd rather Ed be taken care of properly.

Eddie has always been very blind, so he's had glasses for pretty much forever.

Eddie got to stay with his grandma until he was about 6 (I'm still not too sure, he's pretty young at least) when his dad randomly showed up again claiming he was going to take over raising Eddie from then on. He was confused, but he figured it was just for a visit. However, Eddie rarely got to go back to his grandma's from this point. His dad barely took care of Eddie either, mostly ignoring or berating him. The dad lived off of Eddie's child support and spent most of it on booze and rent.

Eddie missed having a full stomach, being able to ask all the questions he wanted to, and knowing he was loved. He got used to sneaking around to get things done, like scarffing down food when his dad was out of the house or asleep, or quickly taking a shower, or even sneaking out to visit the library and do laundry.

He also got to attend school and while his grades were impeccable, he wasn't able to make any friends. They all thought he was too loud, too annoying, too angry. His teachers also scolded him for causing disruptions, when they usually only started because other kids were being mean. Sometimes it's because of Eddie's OCD and OCPD, as that makes it hard to not have things a certain way, or more specifically how Eddie perceives it should be. Again, I'm by no means an expert on such topics, but that's to my best understanding. Eddie was also on edge a lot at school because of his dad. His dad was bitter and jealous about how smart Eddie is, and so he accused him of cheating a lot. For context, this Riddler is NOT a cheater as a know some versions are willing to do so.

There were three good things during Eddie's school years. He had one teacher who understood him well, and so Ed was behaved in that class. As mentioned in my previous post regarding this au's Joker, Eddie got to see Arthur at Cobblepot Park most days of the week, and they also understood one another very well. They could just talk and talk about whatever and not have to worry about their home lives. Eddie also got birthday cards from his grandmother every year, and got to visit occasionally. He often found them stuffed into the garbage and the money she had sent with it was never in there, but he cherished them all and still has them to this day. His grandmother also liked to slip him money during his visits, which Ed hid under his floorboards along with her cards.

When Eddie was 12, Arthur stopped showing up. Eddie assumed Arthur was just sick or something, but he never showed again. It made Eddie feel betrayed. From this point, Eddie is a bit more skeptical of people, but he does still try and remain optimistic that good people are out there. Most of them are just lousy, it seems.

Eddie's senior year, he got a job as a cashier at one of the local grocery stores. He liked asking customers riddles when they went through his isle. He came off as rude to a lot of customers and some of his coworkers, but he still defended them when a customer was wrong. This is also where Eddie learns how to speak Spanish, although it's very little. When Eddie turned 18 though, his father and him got into a fight that led Eddie to being kicked out. He had to scramble to pick his few things out of his room, load them into a suitcase and go. Eddie never told his coworkers that he was now one of the many homeless of Gotham. They weren't close enough for that. So Eddie's bedraggled state from sleeping in abandoned buildings and eating little from his paychecks seems a bit out of nowhere. Eddie also finally gets fired. He's just had too many incidents of fighting with customers, even if he's always remorseful afterwards. Now with no income, Eddie is panicking. He'd also be becoming more and more upset with those in power, and the rich class. They were bad people and yet they got to get away with it. Can't hand them over to the police since the whole district is corrupt. What else can be done about it? Why, expose it of course. And so Ed takes on the role of the Riddler, every waking hour spent coming up with traps and riddles and clues on who to go after. Luckily there's plenty of abandoned tech and whatnot around. His physical health would continue to decline though. This is about where the au starts. Eddie is already an established villain and is enjoying his time harassing bad people and getting Batman's attention.

- Sarsee

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Chasing Shadows (11)

AO3 -> first, last, next

Fandoms: Danny Phantom (DP) / DC universe

Summary:  THIS  IS A CROSSOVER.  As Bruce Wayne begins to slowly recover from the loss  of his son, two   separate mysteries open up old wounds. Who is the unknown leaving clues   hinting at a return to Gotham, and who is the phantom pretending to be   his lost son? Is it just a coincidence they’re active in Gotham at the   same time? Or are they connected?  

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, and questionable mental health

Parings: none

Notes: originally uploaded to AO3. Cross-posted to tumblr

“That’s like the fifth time you’ve reviewed those flowers. If you haven’t found anything yet, I doubt you will.”

Bruce glanced up from his workstation to where Babs was looking at him from her current set up in the Cave. It still wasn’t to the same level as it was in the Clocktower, but it was still somehow more advanced than his. It was a testament to her skills.

The now mostly dried flowers and a still of the lotus design Jason used for his second clue were laid out in order in front of him. The newest additions were a calypso orchid, placed on Catherine Todd’s grave and a spring of wormwood placed on Shelia Haywood’s a few days prior. The orchid was an easy enough reference – it was named after the nymph Calypso who nursed Odysseus back to help after he washed up on her shore. She kept him there for seven years while the rest of the word believed the hero had died. It was an unsettling parallel to Jason’s time with Talia. Bruce suspected it was also chosen due to it being used to represent love for the deceased in funerary bouquets and rebirth in some cultures.

The wormwood was a more puzzling choice at first. In the language of flowers, it represented bitter sadness. There was some evidence it was used as an herbal remedy in the past which might be why it was chosen, but more recently, it was more associated with madness and murder. Was it Jason’s way of hinting at the Lazarus Pits again? Or was it his way of further suggesting his biological mother was directly involved in his death.

“It feels as if I’m missing something,” Bruce admitted as he picked up the orchid again. “Were these just ways for him to hint at his resurrection and return?”

“That’s a possibility,” Barbara admitted as she abandoned her equipment and wheeled over to him. “Jay always did have his own flair for the dramatic.”

“True.” Before his death, Jason talked about possibly joining his school’s theater club. He would have excelled in it. The happy memories of his son were quickly replaced by images of his broken body, a frequent occurrence. Whatever life Jason would have lived had been destroyed by the Joker.

That reminded him. He needed to check on the restoration of Jason’s mask footage. With the new information that came to light, he owed it to his son to see for himself what happened that day.

“I still haven’t been able to find any recent signs of him in Gotham,” Barbara continued, disregarding his sudden change in mood. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t tell her even if she questioned it, “but I think I might have found Danny. I’ll send the files to you to review, but it looks like Jason enrolled him in Gotham Heights under a false identity. His school file has his guardian listed as a ‘Jay Flannagan’.”

She sighed before continuing. “I miss the days when we weren’t trying to track someone with the same skills as us. There’s only a P.O. box associated with that name. Wherever Danny’s staying must be under a different identity. Or, it’s completely under the table. There are rumors some places in Crime Alley that will skip the necessary checks and paperwork if a person is willing to pay rent in cash.”

“Both are possible,” Bruce acknowledged. “If he was by himself, he’d probably chose the latter. However, he’s caring for Phantom, it seems more likely he’d choose the former.”

“I agree. I’ve been trying to hack into the nearby security feeds for Danny’s school, but he’s proving hard to catch. Jason taught him well. But I have noticed occasional glitches in certain feeds. Poorer cameras seem to have strange reactions to his powers, so it might be a sign he’s passing near them. I’ll let you know when I have more data, but we might have a larger problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“We got a warning from both Jason and Danny about the G.I.W., and it looks like they’re starting to pop up in Gotham. There have been a lot of sightings of government types in white suits around the remains of the Clocktower and where some of the better documented sights of Phantom occurred. Right now, it just appears they’re getting some type of reading and taking samples, but we’ll have to keep an eye on them. There are multiple reports that they’ll get civilians involved if they believe a ghost or other similar entity is nearby. They might push Danny into hiding.”

That was problematic. Right now, Phantom was their best chance at being able to find Jason and stop whatever he was planning. He had set up a meeting with Dick in a few days, but if this group was as dangerous as suggested, then there was a good chance they’d scare him off. Bruce couldn’t risk that happening. However, there was also a chance their presence would also force Jason back into the city earlier than he had planned as there was a high probability Phantom had the ability to contact him.

“We’ll have to keep an eye on them,” he agreed. “However, locating Phantom is the first priority.”

…

Tim didn’t want to be at the Manor at the moment. He couldn’t handle seeing Bruce’s grief reopened all over again, so he was dressed as Robin and pretending to be on patrol. Instead, he was sitting on one of the taller buildings of Gotham next to the gargoyle Jason loved to visit when he was still Robin.

Being who he was, Bruce made the decision to restore what he could of the audio and video of Jason’s death. He needed to verify for himself what his son went through even after getting the truth directly from his mouth. Since they couldn’t convince him not to watch it, he, Dick, Cass, Steph, and Babs all sat through it with him in an attempt to give him some sort of support.

He should have listened to Dick. He shouldn’t have watched. Saying it was horrible didn’t do it any justice.

 “Jason, you need to disarm the bomb!”

 “…I can’t…”

Those two phrases kept haunting him. Every time the words replayed in his mind, Tim was struck by the resignation in Jason’s voice. He knew. He knew he had no chance of escaping and accepted he would die. And the woman who led him to his death had the nerve to try to order him around instead of trying to help him. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Jason had tried so hard to be a good hero. And his last act was to attempt to shield the woman who betrayed him.

Jason, his hero, his Robin, had been killed because he trusted his mother. He trusted the woman he hoped would love him. It just wasn’t fair.

“I was told I’d find you out here.”

The voice startled him so badly that he nearly fell from his vantage point. Turning, he found Jason, in his Red Hood gear. The slight tilt to his head suggested he was curious as to what Tim was doing. For a brief moment, Tim thought there would be a repeat of what happened in the graveyard, but Jason’s posture wasn’t threatening. He must have known what he was thinking as he took a seat as he reached for his helmet. There was the hiss of some sort of mechanism unlocking before he pulled it off and shook his head. Tim briefly wondered how hot it was under it.

“Why do you wear a domino mask under it?” he questioned as he took a hesitant seat on the other side of the gargoyle. If Jason was willing to talk, he was okay with that.

“Habit.” Jason’s answer was short, but there was no obvious hint of anger. “And dramatic flair.” If that was the case, maybe that’s why he had the white streak. In the dark, it almost looked like it was glowing.

“Oh…” What else was he supposed to say to that? So, he changed the subject. “Not that I don’t enjoy you being here,” Tim wanted to make sure he didn’t accidentally anger Jason. They weren’t sure of the extent of the Pits effects on him and how much of his actions were his own. “But why were you looking for me?”

“I can tell you’re afraid of me. You don’t have to hide it.” When Tim didn’t elect to respond to that, Jason continued, “Dove sent me after you.”

“Dove? You mean Phantom?”

Jason ignored the question. “So, you know how he can see ghosts?”

“Yeah…? Oh!... So, he knows?” Tim hadn’t expected that. With everything else going on, there were times he almost forgot. Almost, but not quite.

Jack Drake hadn’t been the best dad, but he really tried to step up in the last year. While it didn’t do much to erase the childhood of loneliness brought on by all the trips he and his wife took, he still tried to change. It meant a lot to him, but he’d been killed, just like his mom and stepmom.

“Guess your dad directly came to him or something like that. He apparently had some choice words about me hurting you. Not that I’m surprised about that.” He shrugged before raising an eyebrow at him. “A fake uncle? Really? I get wanting space, but seriously, that’s taking it to a different level.”

Tim could feel himself flush. “I don’t want to be adopted by Bruce,” he admitted. “I was never supposed to be a permanent part of your family, just a placeholder until he didn’t need me anymore. Right now, he’s my guardian, and with my dad’s passing…”

“…I’d be a hypocrite if I told you to stay at the Manor,” Jason eventually told him. Each word sounded as if he was carefully choosing them. “But don’t force yourself into exile either. As annoying as Dick can be, he’d love to have to bunk with him for a while.”

“That’s okay. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You won’t be. Hell, you might be able to help him remember to actually eat something decent for a change. But, if that’s not good enough, stay with that team of yours. Even if you don’t want to talk about it, they’ll still be there so you don’t self destruct.”

Tim flinched at those words. The phantom words of a soft “… I can’t...” filled his ears again, and unwanted tears dripped down his face.

“Ah shit.” He could feel Jason move closer. There was no feeling of animosity, but a questioning hesitance as he moved his hand as he he was considering reaching out for a comforting touch. Pulling it back, he muttered, “Didn’t mean to upset you.”

Shaking his head, Tim tried to ignore how Jason’s features were slightly blurred. It was probably just his tears, but he almost looked like he wasn’t entirely there. Somewhat unnerved, he reached out to see if the older teen was solid. When his hand touched his arm, he couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Jason had stiffened at his touch but let it happen without pulling away.

“It’s not… B restored what he could of the footage of what happened…. What happened to you.”

“And he let you watch that?” The outrage in his voice wasn’t what Tim expected.

“Most of the video is too distorted, so it’s mostly just audio.” When that didn’t lighten Jason’s mood, he tried a different tactic. “Dick tried to convince me and the others not to, but I felt like I had to be there… not just for B, but for you too. After the first attempt to restore it didn’t work, he couldn’t bring himself to try again. So, without knowing about… about the betrayal, he put together the most likely series of events. After that, you became a warning to other heroes of what could happen if they got too sure of themselves. It never sat right with me.” He sighed and hugged his knees. “To me, you were just as much as a hero as Nightwing and Batman. I felt like I owed you that.”

Jason didn’t say anything for a few moments. “You… don’t owe me anything. Months ago, I would have thought otherwise, but not now.”

A wary sort of hope surged through Tim. Jason didn’t completely hate him, which was good, but there was still some sort of barrier. “But you’re not happy I’m Robin.”

“No. It’s…” The older teen shifted as he ran his hands over his face. The weird haze over his features hadn’t gone away. He hadn’t noticed it during dinner the other day. Was it something that came and went? “It’s more I’m angry he let another child in those colors. There shouldn’t have been anymore Robins. There shouldn’t have been any more child soldiers. As much as he claims he cares, we’re never the priority in the field. He’ll always, always choose the mission over anything else.”

“What about you and Phantom?” He figured it was better to deflect instead of arguing.

Jason’s mood seemed to darken as a muscle moved in his jaw. “I don’t want him out there,” he hissed before his tone became more resigned. “Unfortunately, his anchor, what keeps him tethered to both life and undeath, is his drive to help others.”

“Oh!” That was a very revealing statement. His eyes widened slightly. “So that’s at least part of the reason he’s helping you plant your clues and keep tabs on us. It’s a safer alternative.”

“Got it in one.”

“Do… do you have something similar? Constantine told B you’re a Liminal too.”

Instead of immediately replying, Jason took out a cigarette. Surprisingly, he didn’t light it but still placed it to his lips. “Didn’t know there was a proper name for ‘fucked up zombie’.” He fell silent again before quietly stating, “I hope there isn’t.”

Tim pretended he didn’t hear it. Instead, he decided to focus on the older teen’s self-depreciating tone. Was it related to his coming back to life? Had he not wanted to? Phantom was worried he wasn’t planning on living through whatever he was planning which gave some credence to that idea. It… it was troubling.

Before Tim could finish sorting out his thoughts, Jason stood and stretched. “Make sure you let yourself grieve. Trying to push it in a box only works for so long before it affects everything else. Being around others helps.”

It almost sounded like he was speaking from experience. Tim couldn’t dwell on it more as he realized Jason was moving towards the ledge. “Wait, are you leaving?”

He could tell Jason rolled his eyes, even with the domino mask, as he tucked his helmet under his arm. “No, I’m going to stay and chat until sunrise. Of course I’m leaving. Have things to do, buildings to destroy, and I’m on a tight schedule.”

“But!” He couldn’t let him slip away again. “Everyone wants you to come home. You haven’t even seen Ba… I mean Oracle and Agent A yet. And… and we’re working on finding ways to reduce the turnover in Blackgate and Arkham that isn’t just focused on dealing with the breakouts. I mean, we’re doing that too, but…”

“When I come back from my trip, I’ll see what’s changed,” the old teen gave him a searching look that was replaced with a dangerous smirk. “Impress me enough, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll tone down what I’m planning.”

That… that wasn’t a confirmation that he’s stop killing or even come home, but it was something. For now, Tim would count it as a win.

“Before I leave,” Jason continued, “brooding isn’t a good look for you.”

“Excuse me? Isn’t this the place you used to go all the time?”

“Yeah, but I made it look cool.” It took a moment to realize that Jason was joking with him. It was almost a surreal feeling. “But secondly, keep those G.I.W. goons away from Dove while I’m away. They will kill him if they get their hands on him, and it won’t be painless. If, and only if, you have to move him for his safety, take him to the Tower for safety. I’m serious when I say I don’t want him anywhere near the Cave.”

Tim wasn’t going to admit he was a little jealous of how much Jason seemed to care for Danny. “But I’m surprised you’re willing to risk leaving him alone. Unless… that’s what you’re doing! You’re going after the G.I.W.!”

Jason’s response was nothing more than a predatory grin. That wasn’t good.

“I… we can help. Please! Phantom told us they can hurt you too!”  He had to do something. If Danny was to be believed, the organization was a lot more dangerous than they originally believed. Bruce, Alfred, and Dick couldn’t lose him again. He had to stop him from going.

He gave an amused huff. “Worried about little ol’ me? Don’t be. I know what I’m doing.” Before Tim could even get another word in, he leapt off the roof.

When he didn’t hear the tell-tale sound of the grapple, he rushed over to make sure he was okay. But there was no sign of Jason, even with thermal vision. He had just vanished into the night. Great, now he had to be the one to explain his formerly dead son was about to go do something most would consider suicidal.

…

With how empty and broken Bruce currently felt after finally learning what happened to his son, he was surprised at how fear was currently clawing its way through his entire being. Tim’s report about how Jason was planning to go after a powerful government organization terrified him. Not only was there the concern over what exactly Jason might do during his crusade, he now had to worry what would happen if the G.I.W. somehow got their hands on his son. He lost Jason once, and he couldn’t lose him again.

The current trouble was determining where and how he would strike. There were a few G.I.W. bases scattered around the country. Logically, it would make the most sense for Jason to go after the main base, but depending on what he knew of their organization, he could choose to strike at a different location which held more importance. More information was needed, so he had recruited Babs to help him hack into their systems.

On the surface, it appeared to be an organization mostly designed to study ghosts and other similar entities, but he knew there was more to it. However, whenever Babs attempted to get information better protected, the G.I.W. databases went into lock down. It baffled everyone as there hadn’t been any evidence of such security when she started. To make matters worse, whatever security the G.I.W. had seemed to be able to locate the general geographic area where the attempted hack originated as more of their agents were detected on the streets of Gotham within a few hours.

It was a nightmare. Not only did it put Phantom at greater risk, but there was also a chance this would push Jason to act ahead of schedule and recklessly escalate. So far, he’d proved his actions were rather meticulously planned. It had only been when Phantom or Stephanie were in danger that he moved unexpectedly. And with how protective he was regarding the boy, there was no telling exactly what he would or wouldn’t do. Until he or any of the others could get in touch with Phantom or Jason, they would have to increase patrols in the city. He was also going to have to call in the big guns.

…

Dick sighed as he toured the G.I.W. compound closest to Gotham with Superman. The workers seemed nice enough, but it was clear from their tense stances and hesitant looks towards the field agents in the white suits that their impromptu visit wasn’t welcome. Without knowing exactly what Jason would do to expose the organization, especially with them increasing their presence in Gotham, Bruce decided to request members of the League make impromptu visits to the G.I.W. bases at approximately the same time under the guise of a potential threat. He hoped it would get them better access to the restricted information as well as deter a more violent response from Jason.

Currently, they were waiting in a meeting room for their guide to get permission to take them to some of the lower levels with completely not suspicious guards outside the door. Somehow, there wasn’t any piece of technology in the room that Dick could use to plant a bug to either listen in or attempt to hack into the system more securely without taking the time to hack the security camera.

Unlike him, Clark was bound by technology. “There’s lead in the floor. There isn’t as much in the walls on this floor, but it’s still enough to make it hard to clearly see anything,” he mouthed as they waited. That wasn’t a normal architectural design. Clearly someone didn’t want anyone with x-ray vision seeing the lower floors. “But something’s not right.”

“What do you hear?” Dick whispered as he turned away from the camera. While Dick could read lips, Clark couldn’t, but that didn’t mean much when the man had super-hearing.

“Screams. Laughter. Pleading. Fear. It’s strange. That fear is on an infra-sound frequency. Hmm?” Before Dick could ask what was wrong, Clark had suddenly turned and stared at a wall. After a moment, his concerned expression turned into one of bafflement. “Nightwing… your br…”

“You mean Red Hood?” Dick quickly interrupted, somewhat worried what that meant. Was Jason in the building?

“Yes, Red Hood… well, he just shushed me.”

“He’s here?” After a moment of processing what he was just told, he added, “Wait, what do you mean he just shushed you?”

Clark gestured vaguely towards the wall. “He’s currently in the outer wall. I’m… not sure if he’s checking for something or planting something. But he somehow noticed I saw him, and he just put a finger to his lips before moving. He’s currently heading south.”

“Great. O, I’m going to need whatever schematics you can get me,” Dick muttered into his comm before looking directly at the camera. “Look, we have a situation,” he shouted. “We need to get into one of the walls.” When there wasn’t an immediate answer, he looked over at Clark and smiled. “You heard me warn them.”

“I did.” It wasn’t too often Dick got to see the man of steel’s mischievous side on a mission, but he really must want to get further inside. “I’ll try to give you as much support as I can.”

“N, wait! Someone’s hacking the comm!” Babs alerted as static filled it.

“What? Do you know who it is?”

 “No! It’s…”

“Don’t bother coming after me, Dickie-bird. You have a more important role to play.” His brother’s voice came over the comm.

“And just what would that be?” Clark demanded.

There was a sense of surprise on the other end. When Jason was still Robin, it was rare for anyone in the Justice League to have access to their private comm lines. “It’s been a while, Big Blue,” he eventually greeted. “I only need you to be a witness to what these monsters are doing.”

“What are you planning?” Panicked, he looked over at Clark. “Where is he?”

“I can’t see him anymore. It sounds like he’s moved to the lower levels. How’d he get there so quickly?”

Jason chuckled. “Picked up some new tricks. Supes, let me ask you a question. If you were aware of an organization that would want to dissect aliens to figure out what makes them tick, kill them, or even use them as mindless weapons, what would you do?”

“Everything I could to stop them, legally.”

“See, I’d like to do it that way, but if you forgot, I’m dead.” Jason’s words were playful. “I don’t have a way to stop them legally. Besides, according to them, I’m not even sentient.”

“Hood, what are you planning to do?” Dick demanded as he rushed out of the room, much to the dismay of the agents who were guarding the door. He could feel the sensation of Superman leaving at high speeds behind him.

 “It’s already in motion.”

“HOOD!!!” The floor shook as multiple booms, the breaking of glass, groaning metal, and the whooshing of air overwhelmed him. The dusty smell of concrete filled the area. As he recovered his bearings, he immediately checked for signs of damage as both Babs and Clark asked if he was okay. “Yeah… just disoriented. No evidence of injuries on me or the guards who were trying to stop me. No immediate signs of structural damage where I am.”

“The entire south wall collapsed. It doesn’t appear any of the employees were near it.” Clark stated over the comm. “Maybe it was planned that way. You might want to put on your re-breather. There’s lead dust everywhere. …But I can still hear crying coming from underneath the building. I’m going to investigate.”

“Understood. I’m going to help with the evacuation.” Ignoring the guards, who were trying to keep him from going further into the area, Dick pressed forward after radioing for assistance and returned to the central office he’d been allowed to tour earlier. There was a huge hole in the south wall, just like Superman said, but it appeared most of collapsed down instead of either outward or inward. Jason knew what he was doing when he destroyed it as there wasn’t too much debris in the main part of the room.

As he assisted the people in the room, all of which appeared to have thankfully minor injuries, he got an update from Clark. The Man of Steel seemed unsettled as he requested his assistance on one of the lower floors. Since he couldn’t access it from the stairs, he moved to the now open wall and carefully made his way down. He stopped when he caught sight of Clark floating in place. Anger radiated off the man.

“Supes, what’s…?” Dick’s words died on his lips as he got a better view of the room. His stomach churned as he caught sight of what could only be described as the husks of once living people were strewn around the room. The acidic smell of something similar to ozone lingered along with the smell of dust and smoke. Old and new blood along with other unknown yet faintly glowing substances were splashed around the room. Faint whimpering could be heard from further in.

Whatever Jason and Danny had said about this place didn’t do the horror justice. Maybe they didn’t know the extent, or maybe they did. No matter what the truth was, Jason knew this needed to be exposed, and now that Dick had seen it for his own eyes, he was going to make sure it was shut down. Permanently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes:

I chose Flanagan as a fake last name for Jason for its meaning.

Flanagan - From Irish Ó Flannagáin meaning "descendant of Flannagán". Flannagán is a given name meaning "blood red"

Plant notes :)

Stop 11 Ogygia - the island of Calypso. Calypso was a nymph who was kept away from the world as a punishment. She helped nurse Odysseus back to health. Calypso orchids are rare orchids named as such because of how they're hidden until they bloom. Orchids have a super creepy creation myth in ancient Greece – the demigod Orchis attempted to attack a priestess during a Dionysian celebration… and was torn apart by wild beasts. And in ancient Rome, they were a symbol of rebirth. And in modern funerary bouquets, they represent ever lasting love for the deceased.

I also included wormwood to hint at the Lazarus Pit as it is what healed Jason. As a flower, it represents absence and bitter sorrow which matches how Odysseus felt during his seven years on Ogygia.

This plant was used for millennium as an herbal remedy. Some of you might know it’s a main ingredient in absinthe aka the Green Fairy, which if you’ve never had it, tastes like black licorice. The thujone, a chemical in the plant, needs to be removed to be sold in several countries. While not well studied, it’s believed thujone has toxic properties and has been known to cause seizures, kidney failure, vomiting, and other effects.  There are concerns the chemical has psychoactive properties and can cause hallucinations – this is a bit unclear as the few studies around that aren’t great. But in 1905, there were murders that occurred, and the man who committed was said to have “absinthe madness,” as he had been drunk at the time (though absinthe was just one of several alcohols he consumed). This high-profile case helped push the belief the drink caused madness and resulted in it being banned.

I have a small bottle of it from Slovakia sitting in my kitchen. It actually has a sprig of wormwood in it.

[katzkinder]

Little Boy Blue

Mahiru is tired.

Kuro can see it, in the way his folding isn’t as neat, in the way the vegetables in their dinner aren’t as uniformly chopped, in the way his head bobs during school lessons, his laughter isn’t as loud, how he doesn’t check half so well before he crosses the street and needs the ever watchful hand of Sakuya to drag him back from the curb, a shout on the subclass’s lips, scolding and fussing about the car that had just whizzed past their little group.

Mahiru is tired, but he refuses to rest.

And it’s driving Kuro mad.

It’s as Mahiru is jerked and prodded, worried and fussed over by his trio of school friends, that Kuro makes a decision.

His Eve will get some sleep, whether he wants to or not.

Thankfully for him, he knows Mahiru wants it. The frustrating part is that his stupid, incredible, wonderful human doesn’t think he’s earned it. Not yet. Not when there was still more to do.

Which meant, joy of joys… He needed some help.

Good thing he had three ready made volunteers right there with him on the curb.

Now to convince them.

***

The easiest part, by far, was getting them to go along with his plan. Slipping into Mahiru’s bag to use the cellphone Tooru had bought him (every time he thought about it, he still couldn’t believe it. His own phone, his own clothes, his own games, his own… Everything, really), he sent a single text to three different numbers.

Mahiru’s exhausted. Help me get him to chill out?

The hard part…

“Hey, Mahiru! It’s been a while since we all last had a sleepover, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it has…”

“Since we’re already going to be walking you home to make sure you don’t wander out into traffic…”

“It was an accident!”

“Party at Mahiru-sama’s place~!”

“Would you stop with that stupid… Fine! But Sakkun is paying for the food!”

… Wasn’t actually that hard? But, well. Leave it to the grungy joker to just… Steamroll his way into Mahiru’s place, invited or not. And become a steamed cabbage in the process.

The power of Mahiru-sama is frightening indeed…

***

The first order of business when the five of them arrive at Mahiru’s apartment is taken care of handily by, once again, Sakuya.

“Pizza time!” he crows, tapping the order into a website Kuro only vaguely recognizes the name of. It’s not a delivery app, but the website’s own page, and while he’s busy with that, Kuro hops out of Mahiru’s bag, ready to go fetch blankets and pillows from the linen closet in order to set them all up.

Except Mahiru’s two human friends beat him to it.

All the better, he thinks, as he hops up onto the couch to watch them spread things out right in front of the TV. The living room is small, the area they’ve chosen to occupy even more so, but it’s what he would have chosen for Mahiru, too, to cram them all together, to surround his Eve with the simple pressure and warmth of his loved ones crowded close.

Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, Kuro is so… Grateful for Mahiru’s friends. Before him, and even after him, they will love Mahiru like a brother, like a family, know him in ways he can’t, the same way Gear knows him in ways Mahiru never will.

And that’s fine. To be known is to be loved, and more than anyone, Mahiru deserves it.

“Mahiru, can you help Ryuu-chan? I’m gonna go make sure Sakuya doesn’t burn your kitchen down trying to make popcorn.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know, I’m always the one who makes the popcorn when Shamrock can’t!”

“And how much of it do you burn?”

“Less than you, so nyeh.”

… Maybe he should go watch them.

“Ah, Kuro, don’t get your fur on the counter!”

“Can’t deal…”

At the least, Mahiru seems to already be feeling better. It’s like magic. The best kind Kuro has ever seen.

***

Kuro spends the night as a cat, nestled in Mahiru’s lap or lying across his back, little paws kneading his Eve’s flesh and purring up a storm, extra sweet and extra soothing, while the other three pile around them. Mahiru is… Quiet. But not a bad quiet, no. A good quiet, letting the presence of the other people in their home wash over him, their bickering and their teasing, not a host but just a friend, just another kid, a kid with greasy fingers and a half drunk bottle of cola and two boxes of extra large pepperoni pizzas with cheesy bread set out before them.

“Where the heck do you find these pizza places I’ve never heard of?” Ryuusei asks after a particularly long cheese stretch has him craning his head back and holding his arms out, making the other three laugh, “This is great.”

“Vampire SNS,” Sakuya tells him proudly, and snickers once more at the tongue click it nets him.

Much to Kuro’s surprise, after building their little nest, the green haired vampire had graciously given up his preferred spot next to Mahiru without a word, instead settling himself shoulder to shoulder with the short one, Ryuusei, while he and Koyuki had pressed themselves up against Mahiru like they were trying to merge with him. It’s a tangle of arms and legs, like cats lying one on top of the other, physical closeness that speaks volumes of the emotional one they’ve cultivated with each other, and which they were slowly, Kuro felt, trying to ease him into.

It was a strange feeling. Being included.

But it wasn’t one he hated by any means.

Ryuusei flops his head against Mahiru’s arm, cheek squishing ridiculously as he squints at the screen. “Who picked this again?”

The crunching from Mahiru’s right stops, and a bowl of half eaten popcorn, buttery and with the perfect amount of salt, is nudged his Eve’s way. Wordlessly, Mahiru grabs up a big handful of it, stuffs it in his mouth with a knowing little smile, a sort of carelessness Kuro can never seem to invoke on his own.

The shuffling of fabric, and Koyuki leans onto Mahiru’s shoulder as well, the barest hint of a pout to his voice. “Does it matter? Even bad movies are fun when we’re together.”

“You’re cheesier than this pizza,” Sakuya teases, and Mahiru grins, laughs, finally says something, the exhaustion all but gone from his voice.

“That means Koyuki definitely picked it.”

“So you’re the one responsible!” Ryuusei shouts, and Koyuki flicks popcorn at him, bounces it right off his head.

“Shut up! You can change it, y’know.”

“Well, we’re already this far in,” Mahiru muses, and Sakuya quietly plucks the floor tainted popcorn up to place on a napkin, “Might as well finish it.”

Kuro is… So glad that Mahiru has friends who can do this for him. To do the things he can’t. This sense of total normalcy, of being just another teenager… It’s not really something he can help with. Not really. He knows he’s the type to overthink, to become discouraged when his efforts don’t get immediate results.

But now Mahiru is laughing again.

It’s everything he could have asked for.

***

Hours upon hours later, the only light in the room is from the flickering TV screen, and the only sounds are the soft breaths of four teenage boys, fast asleep right there on the floor.

Kuro finally rouses himself, gets up, stretches, and carefully picks his way down Mahiru’s back. Only then does he allow himself to transform back into a human, cracking his neck, his back, and sighing heavily at the relief it grants his stiff joints.

It’s time to get to work. All that effort would be meaningless if Mahiru woke to a mess, so clean up crew Kuro shall be.

First go the soda bottles. Back into the fridge, without a label or a care for who had drunk from what, because it’s not like those four cared anyway, but Mahiru hated to waste food. Honestly, Kuro was in agreement on that much, but especially when it came to his favorites. So, twisting each cap tightly back into place, he made sure to set them up in plain sight so that they’d be finished in the morning (and if not by their owners, by him), blocking the light of the fridge with his own body and the tails of his coat so as not to disturb the quartet of friends.

Next were the pizza boxes. Each one was completely empty, but that was no surprise, given that there were two shared between the five of them. Even the little banana peppers included had been devoured. If Kuro had to guess… Mahiru. For some godforsaken reason, his Eve adored things that set his mouth on fire, and no amount of “it’s not that spicy!” would change Kuro’s opinion that Mahiru, sweet faced, stubborn, wonderful Mahiru, just wanted to see what the fires of hell tasted like.

(And maybe he was a bit of a baby when it came to peppers, but clearly that wasn’t his fault)

Onto the counters the pizza boxes went.

Next came the bowl of popcorn, filled with nothing but unpopped kernels, then the plates, then the napkins, then the painstaking process of picking up every infernal piece of popped corn that had been jokingly thrown about between friends with zero thought for who would have to clean it up all up.

Considering how many Sakuya had tossed, he had a feeling the other vampire had known Kuro would take it upon himself to tidy up their garbage, and found himself cracking an annoyed, if fond, smile.

Little brat.

Mess more or less taken care of, Kuro had one last task to complete, and fetching the fluffiest quilt he could find from the closet that hadn’t already been used to pad out the hard tile in front of their TV, he carefully, carefully, spread it out over the pile of sleeping boys. Not a one stirred, not even Mahiru.

His smile turned ever so slightly bitter.

Well, that was fine. That was good, even, because it meant that, more than he’d thought, Mahiru had needed this night, this little slice of being normal, of simplicity.

Looking at each face in turn… He thought that maybe, all of them had.

Himself included.

Tucking himself into the crook of Mahiru’s neck was easy, a warm, furry weight that had his Eve curling up even more, ever so slightly, setting off a chain reaction as each teenager also shifted, one or two murmuring in their sleep, shuffling closer to each other like small birds seeking safety and comfort during a storm.

And that was fine, too. Kuro would watch over their dreams, every one.

Sleep tight, guys. Sweet dreams...

[therealtsk]

tsk i’m DYING to hear your play-by-play on which worm characters have dumb fanon interpretations

UH OH YOU JUST OPENED THE FLOODGATES so the short answer is pretty much every major character but I am a high-effort bitch so let's do this: Taylor Hebert: jfc, I could probably hit a word count limit talking about Taylor alone. First you have the dumb as shit TINO (Taylor In Name Only) phenomenon where people just straight up SI as Taylor but pretend it's her and she's basically a different person wearing Taylor's skin like an ill-fitting suit. Then there's the Memetic Escalator Taylor interpretation where Taylor's Warlord era characterization is flanderized so hard that she turns into her world's version of Doomguy where her response to literally everything is ultra violence, mutilation and torture and she can totally beat up anyone you guys hahah coin sock goes brrrrr you go brutalize those totally deserving victims queen. And then there's shy, stuttering, soft spoken "useless lesbian" Taylor which is not as common but still, fuckin straight men and the way they infantize gay women. Taylor is perhaps the most consistently inconsistent characterization I've seen in fandom, it's fucking wild Lisa Wilbourn: Has two fanon settings. Taylor's best friend who exists solely to give exposition and get the "Stop Coil" subplot rolling (occasional gay subtext will be added in a way that feels fetishy) Or, the evil bitchy blonde who is first target of the SI. I constantly wonder if the people who write the frankly masturbatory SI's are aware that we can tell they're still bitter about girls not dating them in highschool. Brian: basically does not exist in fic aside from the occasional joke cause racism and also because of how popular wlw ships are in Worm fandom. you deserve better dude Alec: has a few token appearances in wormfic fandom that usually have him as the comic relief alongside Aisha, which might actually be for the best considering he's a rapist and the Worm fandom's uhhhh tendencies. Moving on- Aisha: prankster girl that alt!Taylor will adopt as a younger sibling. hopefully is not part of the totally-not-a-harem considering she's even younger then the rest of these teens Bitch: Another girl to fall into alt!Taylor's definitely-not-a-harem, but with more butch tendencies. Basically has no personality in fanon outside of her dogs Parian: SHE DOESN'T HAVE A SHOP FFS also another member of Taylor's totally-not-a-harem Flechette: yeah it's a harem Sophia: holy shit you think Brian's bad? The racism in pretty much every fanon depiction of Sophia is off the charts. Hyper-violent, super edgy, "predator/prey" speech inbound, will get humilated/killed in some new, supposedly satisfying but actually just deeply uncomfortable way, probably throw in some E88 shit too just because Emma: again, do the writers know we can tell they're still malding over the fact that the pretty girls in highschool didn't date them? fanon emma is pretty much a cardboard cut out of whoever was mean to the author. something something bitches three Madison: in fanon has a C53 fetish, occasionally is also Browbeat. don't ask why Victoria: gets hit with the blonde stereotypes even harder then Lisa, "Collateral Damage Barbie" is one of the phrases that activates my flight or fight responses. she basically is an entirely different character in fanon. bubbly dumb blonde girl with a massive temper and well other sexist bullshiit Amy: I hate even touching this character with a ten foot pole but basically is hit with the "soft useless lesbian" trope hard enough to make her into a completely separate person from her canon self. whether or not this is a good thing is still up for debate Carol: in fanon, an evil bitch who exists solely to bully Amy Mark: who? The rest of New Wave: cannon fodder for Leviathan Danny Hebert: literally stale milk instead of a personality, will probably die before the fic is over but we won't care because the author did not care either Armsmaster: hahaha robotman go brrrr or is an arrogant self-aggrandizing shit, can't interact with people without Dragon helping him 24/7 Miss Militia: fanon bat'd into team mom,

idk where this came from considering her first instinct upon seeing children is to pull out a gun holy shit wait is she actually Taylor's true mom- Velocity: canon fodder for levi Battery & Assault: sitcom wife, sitcom husband! please ignore how fucked up this relationship is if you look at it for more than two seconds Dauntless: haha armsy is JEALOUS also cannon fodder for levi Triumph: who? The BB wards in general tend to be incredibly bland, the only ones who have fanon personalities of note are Clockblocker and Vista. The former being such a huge prankster that every other line is a joke- or him complaining about how BULLSHIT Alt!Taylor's powers are. Vista is an angry kiddo who says that Shadow Stalker doesn't count as being a girl on the team The E88: no personality for any of them except that Kaiser is noble and really isn't that bad and also Purity did nothing wrong totally she's just a hot mom trying to do her best, please ignore how she exclusively targets characters of color and literally calls white criminals more civilized than miniorities- the worm fandom has something of a nazi problem i hate it here The ABB: racism and honorable samurai lung even though that has no canon basis so again, racist stereotypes The Slaughterhouse 9: This one makes me just as sad as the Lisa shit because dear god this is such a good cast of villains that fanon completely flattens to bowling pins for the Alt!Taylor of the week to mow down, why does this fandom suck so much. Anyway Jack is just the Joker, Crawler is masochistic, etc i'm moving on now The PRT/Protectorate as a whole: They are an evil paramilitary organization that pressgangs kids into signing up to become child soldiers, and somehow at the same time, they are a bunch of idiots who listen to the PR department and have stupid things like RULES that prevent capes from COMMITTING VIOLENCE. Being called "the biggest gang of all" is common and some shit like "at least the criminals are honest" is a likely statement. Cauldron: whoo boy this one really boils my blood but fanon Cauldron are just a bunch of evil idiots who can't even tie their shoelaces. basically a bunch of dudebros are upset that women run the world and that two of them essentially have "I win" powers so they have to make them lose to their SI- er, Taylor in fics so they can assuage their masculinity, which totally isn't pathetic Scion: Is at once the end all be all of worm you can't write a wormfic without scion or else it's TOTALLY MEANINGLESS because what is the point of a story if all the characters are going to DIE in a few years anyway, and at the same time is incredibly easy to defeat- this ties into how Cauldron is stupid. Scion Truthers pls shut up and go read something else okay I think that's everyone I would apologize but the only thing I'm sorry for is how messy this is

[hallowed-be-thy-username]

Clothing Is Custom, No Labels

“No matches on prints, DNA, dental. Clothing is custom, no labels. Nothing in his pockets but knives and lint. No name, no other alias.”

Summary: You’re one of the last bespoke tailors in town, making suits and custom clothing for Gotham’s elite. Business men and women, well known lawyers, the Wayne family, and… the Joker?

Genre: Self-insert, porn with plot, longfic

Pairing: Ledger!Joker x fem reader

Warnings: angst!, threats, intimidation

Word count: 4,334

Author’s note: Oh my god, ok, I was stricken with a particularly persistent case of writer's block but I'm finally back! Here we are with part thirteen!! It took me SO long, as you can see 🙈, but I'm super excited for this chapter (even though I say that about every chapter, it's true!) and I'm sorry it isn't a bit longer! But we've got loads of plot development and dialogue, I hope you enjoy it! This one's smut free for now, but don't worry, it'll be back very soon 🔥

Please read the warning above and do not interact with this story if you are a minor! Comments and reblogs always appreciated ❤️

Musical Inspiration: Something In The Way by Nirvana

- Part Thirteen -

Sleep should have been the last thing on your mind as you followed Joker out into the warehouse, but your fatigue was starting to grow stronger than your anxiety by now. You actually had no idea what time it was, but it was late enough that exhaustion was beginning to set in behind your eyes. Or was that just from the wild range of emotions you’d experienced in only one day?

You worked on taking steady breaths while you carefully stepped behind him and watched the bottom of his coat sway around his calves to keep yourself from looking at the handful of men standing nearby. Because they were looking at you, you didn’t need to lift your gaze to know that.

Embarrassment heated your cheeks when you arrived at a table with a few folding chairs around it and looked across the table to lock eyes with the man who’d guarded the office door earlier. He stared back for only a second before averting his eyes and rounding the table to pull a chair out for you, making your face burn even hotter. It almost felt as though you were being treated like one of those posh wives that often accompanied many of your wealthy clients, so superior and self-important. The contrast was ironic, funny really. Instead of a ritzy downtown Gotham restaurant, you were in an abandoned warehouse covered in graffiti. And in place of an affluent husband dressed in a pristine suit, you sat next to the Joker, his distinctive purple coat falling open across his lap as he leaned back in his chair, showing where he’d missed a button on his green vest.

The comparison made your throat go dry and you almost choked when you swallowed against it. You had to get out of your own head if you wanted to get through whatever was about to happen without humiliating yourself further.

“Let’s get started then, shall we?”

Joker’s voice snapped you to attention and not a moment after his statement, a man with black hair slicked back against his head and a pointed nose was lead into the room. Your stomach dropped when you noticed what he was wearing. Black tie, white shirt, navy jacket with silver buttons and a shiny police badge over the left pocket.

The heat drained from your face and all of a sudden you felt compelled to run but you couldn’t move. Instead, you stayed firmly planted in your seat, failing to hide the terror in your face while they sat the man down in a chair across from Joker.

He sighed and licked his lips, lacing his fingers together to rest across his stomach before finally speaking. “What kept you so long, Thomas?”

You noticed the man was trembling slightly and starting to sweat, raising the feeling of dread into your throat before he answered, “I-I got news, boss.”

The cold sinking feeling that had fallen over you suddenly dissolved. You were preparing yourself for what he was about to do to this unfortunate police officer, but it seemed that things were more than they appeared, as you’d learned they often are with him.

“Do you? Well then, do tell,” Joker replied in a mocking tone, looking down at the knife from his pocket he’d begun to toy with.

The man, whose name was apparently Thomas, fought hard to swallow before speaking again. “Dent saw the name a-and started askin’ questions. He was gonna shoot me but the Batman-”

Joker’s eyes flashed up from the knife and Thomas froze in place. His mention of Batman instantly raised the tension level in the room, and you found yourself gripping the seat of your chair.

Keeping the knife in his hand, he leaned over the table and growled, “But the Batman wha-t?”

Thomas forced shaky breaths in and out through his nose, keeping his eyes on Joker’s with his jaw clenched tightly. “He… he stopped ‘im,” he managed to utter without his teeth chattering.

“My hero,” Joker answered derisively before leaning back into his seat.

You let the breath you’d been holding out from between your lips while the man in uniform, his forehead now beaded with sweat, blinked and tried to catch his own breath. Joker must enjoy the power he held over people. Inducing so much fear and anxiety by just looking at them. Your heart fluttered when you thought about the thrill it gave you. It was like you’d had been trained to feel more than fear. He stirred up such a complex arousal within you that was hard to explain, even to yourself. Was it because he made you tremble with pleasure and not with pain?

Then your thoughts were interrupted when Joker spoke again, “Now is there more to this little story of yours, Schiff, or have you wasted my very precious time?”

He kept his dull gaze on Thomas, blinking at him, seemingly bored by the whole situation while the man struggled to speak again, his pursed lips quivering. After his tongue slipped out of this mouth to lick the forked scar on his lip, Joker shifted to stand up and Thomas flinched before blurting out, “He’s turnin’ himself in!”

Joker whipped his head back around to stare at the now visibly shaking man with a new fire in his eyes and you stiffened in your chair. There was that thrill again. Your stomach churned a little as a new thought entered your mind. Yes, he enjoyed the power he held over people, and so did you. The way people would freeze, and their eyes widened. The menace that surrounded him came from so much more than a purple suit and smeared greasepaint. He was becoming some obscure figure or representation of fear. His name had been uttered by almost every citizen in Gotham, spoken with an undertone like it left a bitter taste on their tongues, and it wasn’t even his real name. But to the city of Gotham, it was his real name.

“T-…Tomorrow,” Thomas managed to stammer as Joker’s shadow cast over his face.

He approached him and leaned in close, his towering frame hunched forward at his waist. “Wanted to save the, uh, head-line for last, did ya?”

Thomas’s face grew paler, and he vigorously shook his head as Joker licked his lips with a loud smack before continuing, “My time is precious, Schiff, and it’s a terrible thing to waste.”

You took quick breaths in and out through your nose, the air almost burning the back of your throat, like gasoline. It was him. His scent reached your mind and turned your thoughts to how it felt to have him close, as if the smell of him was enough to absorb you. The shirt. Your eyes glanced down at the blue diamond patterned button-up that covered your body and goosebumps suddenly tickled your skin.

“Now. Before any more of it slips away, why don’t you go with these nice gentlemen so they can collect some de-tails from ya, hm?” he said with faux repose before patting Schiff on the cheek.

Two men that you hadn’t noticed approach made you flinch when they appeared behind the man before each took hold of one of his arms to stand him up from the chair. His gaze finally broke away from Joker’s face to scan over the men, making a soft sound, like a whimper, as they silently escorted him out through the side door.

It slammed and you felt like you’d just been dropped into your chair from where you’d been floating somewhere above it, blinking your eyes as if to clear fog from your vision. The warmth of arousal swiftly faded and the uneasy feeling of eyes on you began to crawl up your back. The room was eerily quiet now and you couldn’t seem to dare yourself to move, you just stared ahead into the darkness on the other end of the warehouse.

Then you nearly jumped out of your chair and gasped when you felt hands rest on your shoulders. “What’s the matter, doll face? Afraid of cops, hm?”

So much for getting out of your own head. Your face heated up once again and you fought against the cascade of nervous impulses trying to take you over before turning your head to see Joker’s gloved hand on your shoulder. Your heart fluttered relentlessly, as if trying to flee from your chest every time you saw him.

“Mm well, no need to worry. Thomasover there works for me.”

It was strange, the contrast between the way he spoke to that man and how he spoke to you. It was hard not to read into it. Part of you knew it was because he wanted something from you, but you couldn’t stop the little rising feeling that maybe you meant something to him. Why would you want that from a man like him? Had you been corrupted that much? The whole thing was enough to make your head spin all over again. But you took a deep breath before your thoughts could consume you and finally lifted your gaze to look at him.

He gazed back at you with heavy eyelids and your heart rose up into your throat, your lips parting as you blinked at him. This was all on purpose. Giving them a show, bringing you out here wearing one of his shirts, making sure they could see you. It should have made you upset, the way he paraded you around, but it made you feel something else. Tingles traveled up your neck and through your burning cheeks as a sense of gratification bloomed in your chest. You were his and he wanted them to know that. Maybe you wanted them to know it too. You wanted them to know that you were his… that you’d slept with Gotham’s most dangerous man.

A small smile appeared on your face, the air carrying the smell of greasepaint and burnt matches as the corner of his mouth stretched into a smirk. Still no sign of the bottom of this rabbit hole.

_______________

The deep darkness of a dreamless sleep lifted as your eyes slowly opened, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings where you found yourself waking. This wasn’t your bedroom. Your mind, still somewhat shrouded by sleep, tried to make sense of where you might be instead before jolting you awake, and it all came back to you. It’d only been one night, but it felt like so many more.

You weren’t sure exactly when you’d fallen asleep. But you remembered following him back to his office, there were some passing remarks to the men in the room, you thought maybe then you sat down on the bed, but your exhaustion obscured any more details. What time was it?

Raising your arms over your head, you stretched beneath the blanket that had been placed over top of you and took a deep breath of the cool air. After rubbing your eyes, you heard a small sound coming from the little bathroom in the back of the office. Your breath caught in your throat and a flutter of anxiety came over you when you realized you weren’t alone. Holding still, you listened carefully and heard the sound of water running. It must be him, who else would it be? That maddening flutter grew stronger along with the familiar rise of heat in your face. Was that ever going to stop?

Swallowing against the tightness in your throat, you quietly pulled the blanket away and swung your legs over the side of the mattress, your bare feet making contact with the concrete floor. Once your weight settled onto your tip-toes, you carefully took silent steps toward the bathroom. As you approached the doorway, the sound of running water was accompanied by a metallic clink and a low hum.

You cursed your nerves for being so on edge, it was becoming embarrassing at this point. So, in an attempt to boldly ignore your meek apprehension, you took a breath and stepped into the doorway.

The warmth in your cheeks increased ten-fold as your eyes scanned the sight in front of you. Leaning over the sink while a steamy flow of water ran from the tap, Joker’s reflection in the mirror glanced at you without turning around. He was bringing a straight razor to his face, carefully gliding it along his jawline before rinsing it under the tap and bringing it back to take another row of shaving cream. He was wearing the same thin thank top with only traces of greasepaint left around his ears.

“Mmm well, there she is. A regular sleeping beauty, aren’tcha, doll?” he said, his eyes returning to his own face in the mirror.

Make that twenty-fold. You huffed a breath as you tried to come up with a response, too stunned by something so seemingly ordinary. Sure, you’d seen men shave before, but this was different. It was strange to see him move with such precision, so careful with his hands, running the sharp blade around the rough edges of his scars with ease. His penchant for chaos came with a certain finesse, an accuracy that he made appear so effortless. Perhaps you’d been staring too long.

“Now that you’ve rejoined the, uh, land of the living, we have some work to do.”

You blinked and tore your gaze away from the mirror, trying to look anywhere else before it finally landed on the tile floor. “Um… what kind of work?”

He chuckled and you could feel him looking at you in the mirror again when he answered, “The kind that requires some subtlety, a little nuance that no one else here can measure up to.”

Your eyes lifted from the floor after you thought for a moment about what he said and you asked, “No one else but me?”

“You catch on quick, baby doll,” he replied, clicking his tongue as he swiped away the last bit of shaving cream from his face. Then he set the razor on the edge of the sink and turned around, looking you up and down as he closed the gap between you. “It’s your time to shineonce again.”

That feeling had begun to fill your chest. That strange sense of pride tangled up with your willingness to do more, your desire to please. You didn’t seem to be in control of it, that was something you gave up days ago, but you could see it blurring the line between what was right and what was wrong even further. Soon you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

He stopped in front of you, keeping your gaze locked with his as you felt the ghost of his breath on your skin. The more he looked at you like that, the stronger that feeling was becoming. He knew it too, didn’t he? He knew that you belonged to him by now and you had no wish to put a stop to it, even after everything you’d seen.

“What do you want me to do?”

A small smirk appeared on his face and he answered in a low voice, “That’s what I like to hear, doll.”

The heat that had been rising in your body came to a sudden halt when he then turned to pass you through the doorway, leaving you taking slow breaths to regain what little composure you could manage.

“This one’s simple,” he called over his shoulder from his desk. “All you gotta do is blend in. Be a fly on the wall, so to speak.”

Were you ever going to be able to keep your mind out of the gutter whenever he got close? Probably not. But you could try to hide it. After letting out one more breath, you turned to follow him into the office where he’d sat at his desk with the small hand held mirror you’d seen before, dipping his fingers into a jar of white paint before starting to smear it across his face.

“Blend in where?”

He chuckled, scooping more paint out cover his jaw line. Then without looking up from the mirror he answered, “Check the suitcase by the bed.”

A tattered leather suitcase beside the bed quickly caught your eye. You weren’t sure if he’d ever answered any of your questions directly before and it seemed that was unlikely to change soon, so you tentatively followed his instruction. It wasn’t heavy when you picked it up to place it on the bed. Then after clicking the latches open, you shifted your gaze toward the desk. He’d moved on to smudging black around his eyes, still not turning to look at you. Those insidious butterflies in your stomach made themselves known and in an attempt to shoo them away, you hurriedly lifted the lid on the leather case.

Not sure what you were expecting to see in the first place, you blinked for a moment at the articles of clothing folded neatly inside before reaching in to pick them up. On top was a black pencil skirt, just the right length for the hem to lay above your knees, and beneath it was a deep purple cardigan with opalescent buttons down the front. The purple knit fabric matched that of his coat almost exactly. Heat returned to your cheeks then your eye caught sight of a pair of black heels in the bottom of the case.

“Can’t have you going out in that, hm?”

Your heart leapt into its familiar place in your throat as you looked down at his shirt you were still wearing, goosebumps crawling up your back before you turned around and nearly ran into him. He’d finished with the bright smear of red on his mouth and was now standing over you, the look in his eyes drawing even more warmth to the surface of your skin.

His fingers slid down your wrist before he took your hand in his, turning your palm upwards as his eyes remained locked with yours, your breath now a shallow huff. After reaching into his pocket, you felt him place something in your hand.

Holding back the excitement climbing up behind your tongue, you forced your eyes down. It was some kind of ID card. In bold letters along the bottom, it read “PRESS” and in the corner, you saw an image of yourself. Your eyes widened when you recognized it as the photo from your driver’s license.

Your eyes darting back up to his face, you asked, “What’s this?”

He raised an eyebrow and replied, “What does it look like?”

“How did you get my license photo?”

A chuckle vibrated in his throat and he turned away from you to go back to his desk where he took something from one of the drawers.

“Always so many questions, doll. But never the right ones.”

_______________

It was hard to keep yourself from fidgeting with the hem of the skirt. It was actually very well made and fit you like a glove, but your nerves were getting the best of you once again. You sat in the backseat of an SUV with tinted windows where Joker had just slid in next to you moments ago.

The brightness of the morning sun was only partially lessened by the darkened glass, it’s beams still nearly blinding where it peeked out from between buildings. Lifting your hand to shield your eyes, the other clutching the ID card, you squinted out the window to try to discern where you here headed. He’d left you to get cleaned up and dressed then took you straight to this car outside where a driver was waiting, not a word exchanged between anyone. He said this would be simple, but you couldn’t keep your stomach from tying into a tense knot while you worried over what you were expected to do.

“Ok, doll. Like I said, this one’s simple.”

His timing couldn’t have been better. You turned away from the window to see him reach into his coat pocket, retrieving something small that he held between his fingertips.

“With this, you can be my eyes and ears,” he said, holding it out.

It was a little black earpiece, small enough to fit comfortably in your ear. When you lifted your eyes, about to ask what it was for, you stopped before the words could exit your lips. He’d shifted closer to you and reached out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. The leather of his glove brushed against your cheek, rendering it scorching as he placed the small device in your ear.

“You are now an esteemed member of the press and today you’ve scored the opportunity to report on the biggest story sweeping the city…” he grinned, taking the ID from your hand and clipping it to your sweater. “The Batman is turning himself in.”

Next thing you knew, the car pulled up to the curb then the man sitting in the front seat reached behind him and pushed your door open. The cool air rushed over your face and you whipped back around, mouth open but no questions left to ask.

“Your time to shine, baby girl.”

Your feet carried you toward the tall building in front of you, its ground floor lined with windows while your chest shuddered against the quick breaths you forced in and out of it. You hadn’t been given much instruction, but you knew standing around on the sidewalk looking confused wasn’t what you should be doing. Scanning the entrance in search of where you should be going, you noticed a small crowd entering the door on the far end of the building and turned toward it.

“Bingo. You’re gettin’ good at this, doll.”

His voice suddenly rumbling in your ear sent a rush down your back and you almost stopped in your tracks, but you pressed forward as warmth filled your face, trying to keep your expression calm and unassuming. You had to resist looking behind you to look for the car you knew he must be watching you from.

After taking a quick glance around you to make sure you were still alone, you swallowed and asked quietly, “Can you hear me?”

He answered with a low chuckle and said, “Mm loud and clear, sweetheart.”

Great, how were you supposed to stay composed when it felt like he was following right behind you? But the door was getting closer, and you didn’t have much time to ask questions. Now you could see inside where news cameras were all pointed in the same direction.

“Are you gonna tell me what to do?”

“Eyes and ears, doll. Your big story awaits.”

He probably heard the frustrated sigh you couldn’t hold back as you pulled the glass door open to follow the crowd, his giggle tickling in your ear.

The large conference room was packed with people sitting in rows in front of a small stage where a podium was set up, more standing along the walls and backed all the way up to the door. You quietly squeezed behind the group just inside the entrance and made your way toward the last spot against the wall, eyeing the handful of police officers to your right. As if your nerves weren’t weighing heavy enough on you, now there were cops here?

You looked down at the press badge clipped to your sweater and tried to relax. Just blend in, they weren’t there for you. Staring at the podium rigged with a handful of microphones across the room, his words echoed in your head, the Batman is tuning himself in.

Then the crowd gradually fell silent when flashes and the clicking of cameras followed a man with a head of sandy blonde hair as he stepped up to the podium. You recognized his face from his campaign ads right away.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I’ve called this press conference for two reasons. Firstly, to ensure the citizens of Gotham that everything that can be done over the Joker killings is being done.” Harvey Dent continued to speak over contentions from the crowd and said, “Secondly, because the Batman has offered to turn himself in. But first, let’s consider the situation. Should we give in to this terrorist’s demands?”

You couldn’t understand the rest over Joker’s burst of laughter in your ear. You quickly covered it with your hand to smother the sound before he held his giggles back and said, “Me? A Terrorist? Oh Harvey, you’re gonna make me blush.”

The crowd continued the argue against him until Harvey made a promise. “The Batman will have to answer to the laws he’s broken but to us, not to this mad man.”

A mad man. You supposed that wasn’t untrue. You’d seen enough to know that. But it still somehow didn’t feel true to you. Like it was what people said because they felt threatened by him. They were frightened and faced with a particular unease, unable to explain what it was. It gripped them and wouldn’t let them look away. You felt it too. But it didn’t scare you away, it only drew you closer, didn’t it?

Before you fell further into your thoughts, agitated demands for the Batman to turn himself in echoed through the room as Dent’s speech failed to bring any sense of righteousness to the crowd of cops and reporters.

“So be it. Take the Batman into custody.”

Everyone fell silent, waiting for the vigilante to step forward. Was that really about to happen? But Harvey waited only a moment before he stated to the crowd, “I am the Batman.”

Disbelief settled over the room, everyone watching as a few officers approached him to put him in handcuffs and swiftly lead him off of the stage. Then the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as a deep chuckle resounded in your ear.

“Ahhh, well there you have it. Now Harvey wants to play.”

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

Taglist: @amethystmoonprincess @call-me-harley-quinn @liz-rdwitch @germansarechill @thesadvampire @tsukiakarinobara @heavymetalnarwhal @neverputsaltinyoureyes @apocalypticwafflekitten @astheworlddturns @komatheterrible @jokersqueenofchaos @killingjokee @into-crazy @youmaycallmebrian @jslittlebirdie @vipervixxen

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 18

First

Previous

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~~~

The entire bat family looked surprised.

“But -- but you didn’t try and kill Hawkmoth!” Said Red Robin after a few minutes of giving her a wide-eyed stare.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s because I couldn’t. We’re pretty much indestructible in these suits and Chat wasn’t able to bring himself to cataclysm him. It took four years, do you really think I wouldn’t have preferred to just take out a gun and fu --.”

“Y’know, just once I’d like one of my future children to say ‘oh, hey, actually I think murder is a bad thing’. Is that too much to ask?” Batman said, squeezing his eyes shut.

She raised her eyebrows. “’Future children’? I don’t want to be adopte --.”

Nightwing rested a hand on her shoulder. “Shhh, it’s going to end up happening, it’s better if you just accept it.”

“I love her,” said Red Hood with a wide grin. “Lay off of her guys. I’m mentoring this one.”

Red Robin sighed. “Not happening.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Marinette said, shrugging the hand off of her shoulder and rubbing where it had been for a bug of some sort. Nothing. At least they weren’t that bad. “It’s the best option.”

Batman held his hands up for silence, and then turned to her and spoke slowly, as if hoping it would stick better if he enunciated every letter: “If we kill him then we’ll be just as bad as him.”

She stared at him for a long time after this, doing mental gymnastics to figure out just what his perspective could be. “Okay, first of all, Kant --.”

“Don’t bother with bats,” said Red Hood, striding over and slinging his arm around her shoulders. “He’s not going to listen.”

Robin seemed especially bitter about the whole ordeal, stewing between Nightwing and Batman, until he finally snapped his fingers. “Oh! But you didn’t kill Hawkmoth when you took his miraculous!”

The bat family reeled back in shock and stared at their youngest like he’d grown a second head.

Red Hood seemed particularly offended. “Did bats get to you, too?”

Robin shook his head. “I just think she’s being inconsistent and a hypocrite.”

“Alright. First of all: the reason I didn’t bother with killing him afterward is because the guy relied so much on his miraculous that it was obvious he wouldn’t be able to do anything. If he broke out of jail he’d have a little bit of fight training and a secretary. Second of all: screw you!”

Red Hood pretended to wipe away a tear. “Best new sister yet.”

She grinned and finally leaned into him. “Thanks. I try.” Her smile dropped as she looked at the rest of the bat family. “As the only one to permanently defeat anyone, don’t you think I should get a bigger say in this?”

Robin raised his eyebrows and gave her the first smile she’d ever gotten from him, though it was gone quickly. Nightwing brought a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh. Red Robin wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was laughing.

Batman seemed less amused, eyes narrowed. “How about we put it to a vote. Everyone who agrees with Ladybug, stand next to her. Everyone who agrees with me, stand here.”

Red Hood remained at her side, but Nightwing and Red Robin stepped closer to their father. Everyone’s eyes fell on Robin, who was looking between the two sides with a conflicted expression.

Then he took a spot by Red Hood.

Three on three. Great.

Marinette sighed. “This is why you don’t do votes with even numbers.”

They all looked at each other awkwardly. What do you do when you say you’re going to vote and then tie? It doesn’t really happen a lot, and even less so when it came to topics such as murder.

She sighed. “Fine, fine. If you can give an actually good option that doesn’t involve murder, I’d love to hear it.”

“We throw him in Arkham.”

“Arkham?”

“Yes.”

“The asylum where he’s broken out of a million times?”

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes. “Great idea, but maybe we need something more permanent.”

“It’s not going to work, Ladybug,” said Nightwing with a shrug. “Man always comes back. I killed Joker myself once, Batman saved him, you just kind of have to accept that the man isn’t going to die.”

“Well, maybe if he didn’t save him --!” she began.

“We won’t be killing him and that’s final!” Said Batman.

All the kids looked at each other warily. The man’s voice had a dangerous sense of finality to it.

Marinette sighed and bit the inside of her cheek. “Fine. If we do it your way we’d have to lock up every major criminal in Gotham to make sure he couldn’t get out. Do you have some sort of plan for it?”

Red Robin raised his hand. “I do. You’re pretty new and no rogues have any clue what you sound, or even really look, like.”

She raised her eyebrows. “My ladybug costume is pretty recognizable.”

“True, no one else would wear something that tacky,” said Robin.

She stared at him for a second, anger flickering in her eyes. “Have you seen yourself, Mr. Traffic Light?”

Before they could argue any more, Red Robin cut in: “You mentioned taking Hawkmoth and Mayura’s miraculi. Try using one of those instead.”

She bit down on the inside of her cheek. Those were notoriously hard to corrupt and use for evil, and she didn’t want to put them through that again so soon. “I’ll think of something else, but fine. I’m going to become someone else so I can... have a different outfit?”

“We want you to get close to the Rogues.”

After another hour of going through their plans, then an extra few minutes to make sure everyone jotted it down, they finally knew what they were going to do.

Then she was handed a small black object. She blinked and looked up at Batman. “Um...?”

“It’s a way to communicate with us. Just press down and we’ll hear both you and whatever you’re hearing.”

“Is it bugged?”

“No. Nightwing tried, but if you want your privacy then you’re allowed it.”

She spun the small orb between her fingers and slowly placed it in her ear. She pressed down. “TESTING!” She yelled and watched everyone wince and hold their own ears. She smirked. “Great, I love it, thanks.”

“I don’t know what you were talking about, Robin, she’s great,” said Red Hood with an even wider grin once his head had stopped twanging painfully.

“Aw, he talks about me?” She cooed, resting a hand over her heart.

Red Robin grinned, still rubbing his temples a little bit, but he would never miss out on a chance to mess with his brother, so he spoke up: “Hardly ever stops, to be honest.”

“Ladybug this, Ladybug that. It got annoying,” said Nightwing with a small smirk playing across his face.

Then everyone finally broke into laughter as the poor kid began to flush bright red. “That’s just because she sucks! Stop making it sound like that!”

Needless to say, they only laughed harder.

With that they began to break off into groups. Red Robin and Robin went to arguing over who knows what. Nightwing and Batman were discussing the logistics of their plan. Now she was alone with Red Hood, who’s smile didn’t waver.

She glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. “Gun?”

He gave her shoulder a small squeeze. “Gun.”

~~~

My brain at 3am: Miraculous But Actually Good

My current fic: ??

~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani

[remedialpotions]

I’ll Risk It

Thanks to all the jokers on the HPRomione discord (PM me if you want a link to join!) for inspiring me to write this and for always joining me in gushing over these two idiots in love. It feels so good to be back at it!

"So..." Hermione couldn't quite bring herself to meet his eyes, instead picking at a loose thread in the sofa cushion. "About what you said before..."

"Uh huh..." replied Ron warily from his seat at the opposite end of the sofa.

"You'd really say that I'm your cousin?"

"Yeah," he said at once, sounding surprised she’d brought it up. "I mean, if it'd keep you off that Muggleborn registration list, of course I would."

The events of the day had left a strange, uneasy mood over Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. While it felt like progress to know where the locket most likely was, the fact remained that accessing Dolores Umbridge (let alone robbing her of jewelry) would be no easy feat, and Harry's row with Lupin had incited a faint churning in Hermione's stomach that she thought might never stop.

They were alone together now, she and Ron, as they often were these days. Still (understandably) bad-tempered, Harry had stalked off to bed early, but Hermione's mind was racing with everything she'd learned, and sleep seemed very, very far off. And as was custom lately, wherever she was... there was Ron right beside her.

Hermione raised her eyes, meeting his gaze with her own. He'd been so resolute, so quick to leap to this resolution and so determined to stick to it, but she just couldn't abide it. "You'd be lying to the Ministry," Hermione pointed out. "At this point, that's basically lying to Voldemort."

"Voldemort doesn't scare me," said Ron flippantly, though at Hermione's raised brows, he relented, "all right, he does actually, but what else are we going to do? They're not making a Muggleborn Registration Commission so they can send you lot Christmas cards, are they?"

"I know they’re after us, I'm just saying, it's not a good idea to blatantly lie like that."

"But what do you think'll happen if you end up getting questioned and you tell them the truth?" Ron went on. "Voldemort’s just going to thank us for our honesty and send us on our way?"

"Of course not, but we're already targets,  and your family-" Her voice lowered, softening. "Your family is already being watched. He's the one pulling all the strings at the Ministry, and with him in power, you could end up in Azkaban, or worse - who even knows what this new regime will do. I put nothing past them."

"It's not like they can kick me out of school," said Ron with a barely-suppressed smirk. "I'm already not going back." The smirk morphed into a grin - warm and wide and just a little lopsided, and Hermione's irritation dulled at the edges. More and more lately, she just couldn't help it; there was something in the way he looked at her that made her want to give up everything she had, just for him. "I know that's your worst fear."

Of course, then he had to go and say something ridiculous like that, and she couldn't help rolling her eyes at him. "It's not, actually, and I wish you'd take this seriously-"

"I do!" he exclaimed, sitting up straight, hands flung into the air. "That's exactly why I want to do this, because of how seriously I take it."

"But it would never work," she said, desperate for this point to sink in, for him to realize that he was essentially flinging himself in harm's way. "Even if you taught me every single name on your family tree for the past thousand years, nobody would ever believe that we're related."

"No?"

He was clearly determined to argue until the bitter end, so Hermione settled in, shifting around on the sofa until she was sitting cross-legged, facing him fully.

"I don't look anything like a Weasley or a Prewett," she said, recalling the sea of redheads at Bill and Fleur's wedding several lifetimes ago. "And I think your Aunt Muriel hates me."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, she hates me too. That actually makes it more believable. What else have you got?"

He seemed to be enjoying this now. His eyes bright and expectant, he folded his arms across his chest, fists tucked under the lean muscle of his biceps, and Hermione allowed her eyes to linger there and drink in the scarred and freckled skin. There was one huge, glaring reason that she did not want to claim to be related to him in any capacity, but perhaps now was not the ideal time to mention it.

Because if she did mention it - if she explained that she wanted to do all sorts of things with Ron that cousins were really, really not supposed to do - then she'd be laying it all out there. She'd be saying the unspoken. And if she did, and things proceeded the way she hoped and expected they might, then they'd forget all about Umbridge, and the locket, and perhaps the war entirely, and they couldn't afford to lose sight of any of it.

Best to stick to what she knew best: logic, and reason, and facts.

"They'd be able to disprove it in a second anyway," Hermione went on. "I can't just be your long-lost cousin who pops up out of nowhere, there would need to be birth records. I'd need a whole fake family."

"My family's huge, if you hadn't noticed," continued Ron, "they'd never find time to interrogate everyone. We'd find someone, maybe we could say you're related to that cousin of my Mum's who's an accountant-" His eyes widened in excitement. "Yeah, actually, that makes sense, because then you'd have been raised as a Muggle, and you'd think you're Muggleborn-" He beamed at her, even as something akin to terror settled itself firmly in Hermione's stomach. "This could actually work!"

"No, it won't!" Hermione blurted out; Ron blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry, but it simply wouldn't work, and you'd be thrown in Azkaban, or tortured, or - or-"

"Then I'll risk it," said Ron, infuriatingly calm. "If it'll keep you safe, I'll risk it."

"You'll risk Azkaban," Hermione challenged, skepticism heavy in her words. "You'll risk living the rest of your life in a concrete cell with a Dementor?"

He nodded. "If it'll keep you safe."

Frustration flared through her. A lump formed in her throat, blocking all of those unspoken things that she thought maybe now she should just go ahead and say. At least that way he'd know that losing him would crush her, that she couldn't allow him to demolish his own life just for her, and that if it came down to it, she would sacrifice herself for him every single time.

"But it's - I'm sorry, but it's a terrible idea-"

"So am I supposed to do nothing?" Ron fired back. "Look, I don't like it, but being pureblood is like, my only advantage in all of this, so I've got to use it-"

"Not like this!" She pinched her lips together, forcing out a long, steadying breath through her nose. "We're already in hiding. They can't question me if they don't know where I am."

"They might find us, Snape's been here before so he'll know where to look, and - and what about when we start going to the Ministry? What if you get caught?"

"If that happens, then I'll figure it out, but I'm not putting you or your family on the hook-"

"No, you can't just 'figure it out'!" He sounded just as desperate as Hermione felt now, and his ears had gone a deep, smoldering crimson. "Look, if something happens to you, and I could have stopped it..." He broke off, rubbed his hands down his face, and looked at her.

Really looked at her. And this time his eyes weren't achingly earnest, or alight with the thrill of an impending argument, or shining with warmth and affection. They were pleading with her now, asking for this not just for her sake, but for his own as well. He needed to know he was doing everything he could to protect her.

The problem was, she needed to know she was protecting him too.

"We'll stay in hiding," she said weakly, looking down at her own hands, too afraid to meet his eyes and see the fear and disappointment she knew would be there. "We'll keep fighting, and Harry will win, and... and then we won't have to worry about it anymore."

"Yeah," Ron nodded, though he sounded glum. "Yeah, fine. We won't do it."

"And besides," Hermione added, hoping to add some levity to the situation, "you don't really want to pretend we're related, do you?"

Silently - and they'd gotten good at silent conversations lately - she pleaded with him to understand her meaning, but if he'd caught on, he didn't let it show.

Instead, he just shrugged. He didn't even look desperate anymore now, just sad. Defeated.

"Like I said... I will if it'll keep you safe."

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Chapter 21

Oh but we aren’t done, let’s unravel this spiderweb completely shall we? All the aces that everyone thought they had are pulled out, and what they thought were aces, just might end up being jokers instead. Also this picture of this dagger? That’s Kushi, before and after it turned to platinum, before it disintergrated into black ash. 

@punkhorse96​ this is where we come right to the brink of losing everything and this story ALMOST becomes a tragedy only for LOVE TO CONQUER ALL. And save the day and bring it back from the brink of destruction and taking the highroad keeps you from being involved in the tragic “accidents” on the low roads from the head on collisions between the other players in the game. Enjoy Darling, one more chapter to tie all this up in a neat little bow. 

Also I would like to make a note- because this mentions pregnancy and in a sense, abortion too- I want to make something clear. I am pro choice. I believe that children can be a blessing, but they above all else, are people and they deserve to be wanted, deserve to be cared for by loving and caring parents who want them and parents who are ready and willing to have them. And not be viewed as the bad consequence for having sex. 

Blood For Gold

Chapter 21

“What’s going on now?” Demsey asked you. 

“Something between Benny and Sierge that they need to work out.” You answered him. 

“Demsey, do remember that favor I asked of you? How you would help me escape the Palace of Windsor?” You prompted, as your tears welled in your eyes because having Demsey so close but knowing that the best thing to do for him was going to be to get worlds apart from him was breaking your heart just thinking about. 

“Yes, I have not forgotten.” Demsey reassured you. 

“I need to call it in. The moment we return, I need you to bring that trunk down to the stables, I was given Charlico as a gift, and I’m leaving with Heavencrest and Charlico. Because the moment we get back and can get packed, everyone is leaving the Palace of Windsor and my family is going to be going to Mirador to help sort things out.” You informed him. 

“Absolutely, I will ride back immediately and meet you in the stables.” Demsey reassured you. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him before your parents came and pulled you back to them as they insisted on having a family meeting to discuss what they were going to do as once again, urged them all to go to Mirador and formulate a plan there and that you would have room in Mirador’s stables for everyone’s rides and plenty of rooms for them to stay in even though they weren’t as lavish as the rooms at the Palace of Windsor but your family insisted that even if they had to share beds and roll out bed rolls on the floor, they were going to stay together but in this moment, you just wanted to be free and have space from everyone. 

Demsey rode the fastest horse he could rent and immediately went up to his room and hastily packed his own things into his own trunk and put them with yours and waited anxiously in the stables as your family came back as you hurriedly packed everything you could not live without and put them in a separate trunk and instructed the servants to take the first trunk to the stables and all the others to go back to Mirador with your parents since they would be taking carriages back to Mirador before you got dressed in a simple, comfortable shirt and pants along with your flying leathers and practically ran towards the stables once Yalin gave you Charlico’s papers of ownership and breeding lines and a note to the stable hands that Charlico’s saddle and whatever other tack you wanted would be leaving with him. 

“So what happened in there?” Demsey asked as he tried to help you get Charlico and Heavencrest saddled up to be loaded up. 

“My case against the Morrigans got dismissed from every court in England.” You told him. 

“How in the world did the Morrigans get your case dismissed?!” Demsey demanded. 

“Because it wasn’t them that did it, it was the Dowager Queen who was the one who dismissed both my case against the Morrigans and the Morrigan’s case against me in both the public and private courts and barred us from ever going to court to protect the Crown from any damage that this case would bring to it through Gregori, Yalin and Ramsey and she herself got to see and hear all of the evidence and acted as judge and jury and ruled in my favor. The original contract I had with Edward Senior was upheld. And the Dowager Queen awarded me everything that the Morrigans have as recompense for the hurt they caused me in their conspiracy and attempt to murder me and they were branded as mad and insane for trying to murder me via mourakatili and were sent to the asylum to be fed poison to make them honestly insane.” You answered. 

“Oh, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Isn’t that more or less the outcome you wanted?” Demsey asked in confusion because you were still manically trying to saddle and load both animals up and you were still crying and clearly in distress. 

“Factually, yes, but at the same time, no, not at all, because I finally found out why they tried to kill me to begin with and it’s so much worse than anything I could have imagined. The day I married Edward Senior, Ramsey, in a panic said only minutes after I married Edward, told his father that I was his perfect bride but because I was just then married, I was unavailable because his parents had threatened him that if he had not found a bride that season, he would be cut off in every conceivable way and sent into the army and have the rake beaten out of him one way or another. But he just thought I would marry Edward and live out the rest of his natural life with him and in five to ten years when Edward would die naturally of old age, then he would be ready by then. But what no one realized was Gregori’s desperation to see Ramsey married and father to a legitimate heir as soon as possible was so great, he conspired to murder Edward Senior so that I could be Ramsey’s wife that much quicker. Because it was Gregori who bribed Edward’s doctor- Dr. Rickets, to poison Edward Senior with Wolf’s Eye which when you take it, it makes you delirious within a couple months, and within a few more months, it will put into a further delirious rage to the point your heart beats so hard so fast, your heart beats itself apart, causing your heart to fail, and that led to Edward’s own madness and in his madness, he abused me. The entire Royal Family including Charlotte, Yalin, Ramsey and myself were completely unaware of Gregori’s involvement and plotting and all of them were mortified to learn of this news and as recompense, they gave me Charlico for free, although I still feel I paid for him with my own blood, but none of that seems to matter to anyone else so the real murderer is walking free because he’s the King’s brother and heaven forbid he face any punishment for his actions.” You hissed as you wiped your angry tears away as you did your best to get Heavencrest’s saddle cinched correctly as your tears blurred your vision. 

“The Morrigan's thought I had poisoned Edward Senior, wanting to get out of the marriage which of course wasn’t true because before the poisoning- Edward Senior had been nothing but good to me and I was happy and content with him and I had no reason or motive or cause for such a thing but they thought I was a typical moura, who just wanted the highest payout as quickly as possible and in retaliation and wanting to avenge Edward Senior, hired the same doctor, Dr. Rickets, to obtain mourkatili and poison me with it so that I would be buried right next to Edward Senior. Dr. Rickets tried telling Gregori but Gregori was already on holiday with his family in Dorierra trying to find another “me” for Ramsey and didn’t get his letter in time for Gregori to step in and Dr. Rickets added Jade’s Crown to the mourkatili to make it less lethal but more addictive and told the Morrigans all they needed to do was put a thimble full of it into a pot of hibiscus tea to hide the color and once I would have a sip, I would become addicted and would request to drink it more and would choose to drink myself to death, which that plot very narrowly succeeded.” You revealed with a bitter laugh. 

“But because it was Gregori who is guilty of the conspiracy, it’s being covered up, buried and dismissed and all evidence of Gregori’s guilt, once it was made aware by the Morrigans and myself and my family, it was then quickly destroyed and Dr. Rickets ended up going to the asylum with the Morrigans and has the same fate as them.” You revealed as Demsey was half tempted to try to burn the palace down himself as rage almost blinded him but your hurt kept his mind with you in the moment.  

“However, the complication was that Richard’s mistress, Myra, her children by Richard were brought up in Broadcove as servants because Agnes insisted that only the children she bore to Richard should be his heirs and treated them as such because she was the one who had control of a good portion of the wealth since a lot of it was in her name, that term was agreed on so that Agnes would continue go along with everything like a good wife and Richard of course had to agree because Myra has no nobility at all herself, just her beauty and personality to recommend her and Agnes had the breeding, nobility, connections and dowry to boot. So, of course Richard married Agnes but kept Myra as his mistress and it is those connections and that dowry that enabled Edward Senior and Richard to invest it and multiply it and turn it into the massive wealth they did and with Agnes working her own contacts like a concierto does an orchestra, that’s why they have as much power and influence as they do. But Agnes was always resentful on account of Myra so she abused those poor innocent children because she hated how Richard loved them more than the children she bore to him and even though they were his bastards, they were made in more love than Jane and little Edward ever were and she demanded that if they remain in the house that they were to earn their place as servants or be put out into the street because she could not bear the humiliation of Edward’s infidelity made public and she would turn all of her connections on Richard if she didn’t get her way so he had no choice but to agree and Myra was lucky she got a room, much less a suite of rooms at Broadcove in the opposite end of the house from Agnes, Jane and little Edward.” You explained. 

“And if that wasn’t bad enough Agnes even sent one of them to their early death, the eldest son Myra bore to Richard, the second time I was served mourkatili in tea form, she insisted that to “prove” it wasn’t dangerous, for the poor boy who served it to me, she insisted that he taste it to prove it wasn’t poisonous, I tried to stop it but he did as she commanded and dropped dead the moment that poison touched his lips and she tried to pin it on me to Myra saying that I insisted he drink it. So of course Myra came to me and demanded to know what the poor boy had done to me that I should be so cruel as to kill him and when Richard found out, of course he believed Agnes at first and came at me and had me tied down so he could beat me and I couldn’t fight back, I was too drunk on mourkatili to fight back anyway before Jane intervened and told them the truth and Jane had to show them the truth that had been caught via her own messengerari that was in the room and when Myra saw it, she apologized profusely and did everything she could to heal the hurt that Richard had inflicted but when Richard saw it, he never did apologize to me but instead turned on Agnes, her bruises and cuts were twice as bad as my own. But that didn’t stop Agnes because the third time Agnes did it, it was Myra’s youngest boy who was only six.” You broke down crying as Demsey came and tried to hold you but you resisted him, because you wanted to leave as soon as you got this all off your chest because you wanted and needed him to know the truth. 

The whole truth.  

“And I of course drank down every drop of it to keep him from having any to protect him and Jane, once again had to intervene, so she and her father decided that only she would serve me the mourkatili because I would not make her drink it and that all of Richard’s other children by Myra would be kept to her apartments in the north wing and would only be let out when they were in the company of Myra or Richard, so they became like caged animals, just like me and must like Myra.” You revealed as Demsey stared in horror. 

“And Jane, sweet Jane, she got her ladies maid to go to the market for her to get me ipecac and she would try to dilute the mourkatili and try to add what she had heard would help lessen the impact of it or help to try to neutralize it. And she purposefully “tripped” and crashed onto the floor when she couldn’t dilute the tea and it of course stained the rugs and the floorboards underneath but she couldn’t do it too often for fear her parents would get suspicious but she did everything she could in those limited, forced circumstances to try to do what she could to save me, so even though the fact of the matter is she did serve me poison, she isn’t responsible for it. And I hold no grudge against her or blame. And of course, when I got to leave Broadcove, Myra pleaded with me to take her children as my own servants because she knew I would be good to them and treat them with kindness, much more than they were being given at home and I could not refuse her. But of course, they are their father’s children and they of course, kept reporting on everything I did to their father. So even when I left Broadcove, I couldn’t escape the Morrigans.” You divulged. 

“But why not dismiss them entirely then?” Demsey asked. 

“Because they have been good to me despite that and I couldn’t fault them for their loyalty, nor can I find fault in their service, they have always been respectful and obedient and they did everything they could to be courteous and cater to me and it was only three months into my widowhood when they saw for themselves what kind of person I was that they switched their loyalties to me and told their father to “fuck off” because if he really did love them like he claimed, then he would not have put up with their indentured servitude or mistreatment at Agnes’ hands and refused to spy on me after that and it’s because of those circumstances that in an effort to mend things with me, the King made Myra a Maquise, a station higher than a Count or Countess and basically told everyone the cover for this whole fucking fiasco was ‘that Agnes and Richard went on holiday, got sick with something to make them go mad while Jane and I have been at Windsor and that they bribed Dr. Rickets to poison me with mourkatili and thankfully my brother’s dragon was here to cure me and that they are all guilty of madness and attempted murder and have since been sent to the asylum. And that Marquise Myra Bellafont, moved with pity, has taken in Jane and little Edward and is now their loving caregiver’.” You informed him. 

“So that’s why I am leaving Broadcove to Myra and all of her children as heirs of it because while Agnes has always treated them with animosity, they have never treated Jane or little Edward that way or even Myra, let alone me. So they will leave Mirador as my servants and enter Broadcove as masters and I have been awarded everything that the Morrigans had, all wealth and property and I am leaving a business or two to Myra and her children to run so that they can keep up Broadcove and care for their needs and anyone who says otherwise or attempts to reveal the truth will be promptly killed or sent to the asylum themselves.” You explained. 

“But if that wasn’t enough, Richard did hire a mage to cast a spell over all of Mirador so that no messengerari would work and send any message out and bribed four of the post masters in the Royal Mail Service to destroy every piece of mail going in or out to me and Mage Bellfast had to conjure them all up because they had all been burned in an effort to be destroyed. That’s why that table was covered in mail from my friends and family. Not even your letter to me a few days before the ball to warn me about who was going to be there and who meant me harm could reach me.” You explained. 

“And that was the other reason why the Royal Family couldn’t let this go to court because to prove that their Royal Mail Service had been corrupted, couldn’t be tolerated.” You answered. 

“And what’s even worse is now I can’t go home to Dorierra either because I got the classification of tavnit, which means “no master”. And even if I were to go back to Dorierra, I can’t stand to go back into the bride system. But I also can’t stand to go home to Mirador where my whole family now has dollar signs in their eyes and now they are all clamoring for a piece of the giant money pie I’ve just been handed and the temptation to just let your sister inherit all that I have so that you can assist her in how to run it all so I can be free of even all of that is too tempting for me right now and so the only place that leaves that I can go and be truly free in every sense, is a colony because justice is a joke and loyalty is fickle at best in this country and the less people around me who can use me for their own benefit, spy on me to others who would use that information as blackmail against me and betray me, the better.” You insisted bitterly.  

“Do you think I would ever do those things to you?” Demsey asked. 

“No, never, because you’re actually a very good man, with upstanding character and morals but you deserve a highborn lady at your side to be the perfect wife to you and help you and stand by you. And as much as I want to do that, I can’t.” You cried as you put your bags onto the saddles and tied them down. 

“Why not? I told you, I don’t need an heir and a spare, all I want is you to be happy. And if a colony is where you think you’ll find that then let me go with you. Where you go, I go. To hell with England.” Demsey insisted. 

“No, England is still your home though, and Whydah I’m sure has no equal. You have everything here, you have your business which should be booming with the new soap recipes which Leumeni has offered to share if he could have the chance to court Kiera properly. You have your title as Duke, you have your family and friends, and I’m not worth giving all of that up for.” You argued. 

“Yes you are! To me, you are worth more than anything this world has to offer me.” Demsey argued further as he once again tried to reach for you to pull you into the comfort of his embrace as you desperately put your hands on his chest and shoved him away with what was left of your strength in that moment. 

“Demsey please! You can’t love me without knowing the truth about me! I am a murderer! I’m the one who gave Edward his fatal blow!” You cried out as Demsey was dumbstruck by such a revelation as he subconsciously took a step back as your heart broke to see such a reaction from him before you grabbed your last bag and tied it to Charlico’s saddle.  

“A millenia ago, when mouras first touched down on the ground, the reason we knew we could turn things into gold was because at a banquet, a drunken man tried to rape a moura woman. The moment his touches grew desperate and violent, just touching her, her body, in an act of self defense, turned him into a statue of gold. That’s how we found out we had that power. Once she touched him again, he turned back to flesh and blood but the act of being a solid gold statue killed him and he dropped dead. Then we learned to master that defense mechanism and learned to control it. It was our blessing and our curse. From there, moura women were hunted like game, like trophies and when mouras grew cloaks, when you took a moura’s cloak you were considered bonded with them. And men of all kinds hunted us, and once we turned their enemies into statues of gold, to be melted down into bricks and bars of it and once that is done once it stays gold for a year, touching it again will never let it revert back to it’s original flesh, so the gold was kept in the ground for a year and a half just to be safe while the person was considered “gone missing”, or the women turned their own body weight of mud and rock and bricks into gold, then they were released. But that meant that no moura would ever have rape or any abuse attempted on them because the perpratrator would be turned to gold themselves. But when the gold plague came, that power died with it. And suddenly we didn’t have that protection, or that curse. Until only recently, and I mean recently as in only the last one hundred years. There have been only four mouras born in the whole world, who can now touch that moura gold and turn it into moura platinum. That’s what I am. I’m a platinum moura. The moment Edward’s flesh touched mine as he tried to rape me, he dropped dead as a platinum statue, he broke the bed and the crash was heard through the whole house and I had to have the bed burned and bribed Dr. Rickets to say he died of a heart attack, which having a heart that needs to be beating for you to stay alive, if it stops, you’re dead, still kind of happened. But because of the mourkatili, it means that that very platinum is poisonous and lethal if you touch it but when I touch it again, it turns to black ash, the same black ash from the Gold Plague that killed billions of heavenly moura, that’s why my hands were black when you came in and why there was so much ash on the floor because Mage Bellfast, as payment for conjuring up my mail asked me to turn a brick of moura gold into moura platinum. I tried and failed because Grevu cured me. And when Mage Altissia informed Mage Bellfast of that, he cast a spell on me and pulled the mourkatili that was in my hair back into my body and re-poisoned me so that I could have that power back. I tried stabbing him after he put that spell on me and I tried stabbing him with Kushi and Kushi turned from gold to platinum in my hands but the mourkatili made me weak again and I collapsed onto the floor and when I stood back up and picked up that gold bar and the moment I touched it, it turned from gold to platinum and I gave it to him and he at the time had the good sense of wearing gloves and when he got to hold it, he kissed it. And when he kissed it, his body instantly dissolved into a heap of ash with the bar of platinum falling onto a heap of his clothes and ash and it killed him and when I went to pick up Kushi, the moment I touched it, it turned back to gold but also into ash as well and it disintegrated into my hands and all the jewels that were imbedded into it, fell through my fingers like pebbled sand at the beach. I destroyed Kushi because it had been made with moura gold and when I touched that brick of moura platinum, it did the same thing. And now I can’t touch anything made out of moura gold or else the same thing will happen to it and for all I know the ash is just as poisonous now as it was when it first appeared in the Gold Plague. That’s why I have the tavnit status and that’s why I’m not welcome back in Dorierra because I have no use for the stable masters and once again, I am a lost cause.” You confessed. 

“Do you still love me now? Knowing that I can kill you if you touch me? That I can turn everything that happens to be moura gold and turn it into poisonous platinum that will kill everything and anything it touches?” You asked rhetorically. 

“That’s why as soon as I’m packed, I am going to go back down to Grevu so he can heal me yet again so that I am free of this curse too and then I’m leaving for the farthest colony I can find from here because the more space between me and this whole horrible situation and circumstances, the better.” You told him. 

“But I know you would never do such things to me, at least on purpose. I promise to remove everything gold from Whydah so that you can’t possibly…” Demsey tried to offer. 

“Demsey, that is not the only reason I can’t marry you and that you can not come with me. You deserve a wife who is faithful and honest with you in all things. Demsey I am pregnant. I am with child as we speak. I’m a month along already and even if we got married today, the baby will come too soon after the wedding and your reputation as well as my own would probably be ruined beyond repair and I can’t do that to you, I won’t do that to you, I refuse to do that to you. It’s not right and I refuse to do anything that can be in any way harmful to you. That’s why Grevu cured me the first time, he could tell I was falling pregnant and cured me to protect me and the baby, but because of the pregnancy and because of Grevu’s magic, protecting the baby from all harm, even now with the mourkatili in me, the baby is fine, it remains unharmed and the rest of my womb is being protected from reabsorbing it’s poison and this babe was made in love and passion and I refuse to harm it either. It’s an innocent in this situation too and it’s not only my responsibility and obligation to take on the consequences of my own actions and I have no one to blame for my state but myself and I am ready and willing to take it on and the only saving grace I have is that the baby is in no way the offspring of the Morrigans. And I love you too much to try to push onto you a baby that isn’t yours. It wouldn’t be honest or right. And I can’t ask you to take me and this baby on, knowing that.” You insisted as you finished then went over everything to make sure everything was attached and secure and wouldn’t come flying off when you would fly to the colonies in just a few moments. 

“And the father of the baby has completely disappeared, no one can find him. And what’s worse is he was a whore in a whorehouse, that’s who the father of this baby is. Two months ago, when you gave me that note back that Calla was able to sneak to me. I went to The Gold Finch, that is where I met Yalin, she told me about The Red Velvet Rope and she told me which days to go and which days to avoid the place because that was Ramsey’s favorite whorehouse and at the time she didn’t want us to meet because she knew Rasmey would use me, then ruin me. I met the manwhore there and I got to be with him three times, that first time, a second time right before the ball at Havenfield and the third at the Masquerade Ball at The Midnight Peacock. That’s who I was with right before you found me at the bar, he was why I didn’t feel like dancing because we had both told the other that we were going to be pursuing other people and that never again would The Red Velvet Rope be in our lives and then the bastard made an enormous bet on me on Kamoba and apparently won a small fortune and as always, he took the money and ran because since then, he has vanished into thin air and no one has even heard of him, let alone knows of him and of course The Red Velvet Rope absolutely insists that no one by his name or appearance has ever worked for them, ever. But the place wouldn’t be a good whorehouse if it didn’t serve it’s lady clientele pregnancy warding tea to counteract the consequences of it’s use which I made sure to drink both before and after each trip to The Red Velvet Rope. Except for the night of the Masquerade Ball, I was too heartbroken over losing him that I forgot to drink any and that one time was all it took, even with the mourkatili in my system which mourkatili is supposed to kill fetus’ but thanks to Grevu’s magic, the baby is perfectly fine and healthy and shows no signs of being disformed or anything. And I would never do you the dishonor of trying to pass off a baby that isn’t yours to your very face and I would hate myself for trying to live that lie and that guilt would eat me alive, more than mourkatili ever could. That’s what I meant by you deserve better. Do you still love me now? Don't these truths kill every ounce of love you thought you had for me? Don’t..don’t answer those questions. Hopefully all these truths will help you dismantle any affection you’ve built for me and hopefully you can find someone worthy of your love and affection who will do right by you, who isn’t a whoring murderer.” You offered as you finished with the last of it before you went back to Grevu and asked him to heal you again as Demsey sat on the now empty trunk as his own sack of clothes and personal items laid down at his feet and processed everything as he watched you get into Grevu’s tent with him as you hugged Grevu tight and tried to tell him goodbye as he wrapped his neck and wing around you protectively as you cried into his chest but thanked him for intervening and trying to protect you and save you and the baby before he seemed to glare at Demsey. 

“It’s not his fault. He’s not the one to cause my hurt.” You tried to excuse to Grevu. 

“Just, please, heal me, one last time, so I can carry the baby safely ok? Thank you, thank you for preserving this little miracle of life.” You pleaded with Grevu who put his nose into the neck of your flying leathers and snorted softly before you had to let him go and go to a corner and throw up again and just the sound of you being sick and in agony as once again, the mourkatili colored your hair, but just the ends of your hair this time instead of all of your hair as you readily grabbed it and cut the colored ends off and laid them on the ground for Grevu to burst into flames to destroy for good and it was enough to break Demsey out of his stupor and move him to action as he knelt next to you and once you were done, he handed you his handkerchief to wipe off your mouth. 

“Audra, my love for you transcends everything you’ve told me and will transcend a million things more. I don’t care if you were working at The Red Velvet Rope as a whore yourself, and I don’t care if you couldn’t know who or what was the father of the child you’re carrying and I don’t care if you don’t even have a penny to your name. I love you. I will always love you. And I will happily love the child you’re carrying as if it were my own. You speak like you’re the only one to have ever sinned. I’m imperfect too and I don’t want the perfect wife. How boring would that be? I want you as my partner in life, no matter how or what kind of name you want to attach to it, I want you, any part of you or all of you if you’re willing to give it to me as perfectly imperfect as you are right now and forever.” Demsey professed. 

“You want to hear my deepest darkest secret? Shortly after seeing you on the train, I used The Red Velvet Rope too because I could not get you off of my mind and I thought at the time that if I rutted with a moura, that would help me be less distracted and then I met another moura, with the same first name and the same looks as you. And my fantasy was that I was actually being intimate with you instead of her and I met with her three times as well, that first time shortly after returning the note to you from Calla, the second, right before the ball at Havenfield and then again at the Masquerade Ball. I went to that ball and I immediately rented a change of clothes so that no one would recognize me in my own clothes in an attempt that you would not recognize me but that she might and sure enough, like moth to a flame, she found me again and it both broke my heart but filled me with relief that she was going on the straight and narrow and she confessed that she was going after an orc in the gentry and I feared it was my brother because shortly after just giving Sierge the smallest, most miniscule of details about her, he has been looking for her ever since and he claimed he found her and agreed that her resemblance to you was uncanny and I tried to kiss her goodbye and cut things off clean with her at the ball, but it was like she was a drug that I was addicted to and I went one last round with her and I haven’t seen her since. She also bet on me for the Kamoba and apparently won a small fortune in turn but again, she, just took the money and ran and not even Sierge has been able to find her since, even with his almost super powerful sense of smell, and that was also why I was in no mood to dance at the Masquerade Ball and why after that, I found you at the bar and why it wasn’t fair to you at all that I was in your presence but yet it was her that was on my mind. So I’m just as much of a whore as her and I have been just as unfaithful and just as secretive and deceitful and I’m sorry that we live in a society where such things are like a death sentence to a woman and her honor but are expected from most men and it’s not fair and it isn’t right. But I swear- on my life, I would never, ever, hold such things against you and I would keep these revelations just between us and take them to my grave and I will do anything you ask of me, except for leaving your side. I want to help you, I want to love you and care for you if only you would let me. You are not the only one with sin or fault, I’m just as guilty as you, I’m just as imperfect and flawed. But she is nothing compared to you and is a sad counterfeit of the real you and I would much rather have you than a hundred of hers. You will always be infinitely more precious to me. Please, if you must insist on going to a colony, then let me go too. You don’t even have to marry me if you don’t want to, I don’t have to be a Duke, Sierge or even Tzane can take the title and the business for all I care. Just...let me love you and care for you the best way I can. I know how to make soap anywhere, with my own two hands, it doesn’t have to be England or Europa, I don’t care where we are or where we go, as long as we are together. That’s all that matters to me, we’ll find a way to keep each other. I swear.” Demsey offered before you took your small canteen on your hip and swished your mouth out real quick before you finally kissed him, climbing into his lap and wrapped yourself around him and held him tight as you both cried tears of happiness and relief as an overwhelming flood of emotion overtook you both. 

Then as if you both seemed to realize it at the same time, that each other’s taste was...really familiar.Not in a way that it was familiar from the night before but much farther back than that. Almost too familiar in an uncanny way. 

“Wait, this, other Audra, the first time you met her, did you try to call her Audrey and she corrected you by saying it’s Audra- Draft?” You questioned him as suddenly, something clicked in your head.  

“And I replied, ‘call me Demsey’.” Demsey answered as he gave you the most bizarre look before you both started laughing. 

“Oh my gods, we are so stupid! Ugh! The Abbess at the Red Velvet Rope, told me I was going to be seeing a guy named Draft. That’s why I said “Draft”, not as my last name, but that was to address you, who I thought was named Draft.” You confessed. 

“And it was on the 12th. At like, 3 o’clock in the afternoon? I told my abbess on my side of the place that I just wanted a rut with a moura and she offered an Audrey and so that’s why I called you Audrey and I thought the Draft thing was you saying your name was Audra Draft, Miss Draft.” Demsey confessed with a sigh of relief as he held you as finally your own personal scent was so wonderful and comforting and familiar! How had he not made the connection before now?

“And then we both returned on the 23rd at about the same time and met again, you were wearing that gorgeous navy suit jacket with the cream pants and that vest with cream and navy paisley.” You realized. 

“And you wore that sexy as sin black lace dress that had me nearly losing my load just from the looks of it. Which, you do still have that right?” Demsey asked.  

“Yeah, it’s back at Mirador.” You confirmed with another laugh. 

“And that was you? At the Masquerade Ball, and it was me that you were quitting Mr. Draft for?” Demsey asked as he just couldn’t stop laughing as all of a sudden everything clicked into place as to why he was so outrageously attracted to you as he tightened his hold on you. 

“Yeah, and obviously it was me that you were quitting Miss Draft for?” You asked with a laugh of  your own. 

“Yeah.” Demsey confirmed. 

“So this is actually my child you’re carrying, this is my babe that Grevu has used his magic in protecting this whole time?” Demsey asked in awed astonishment and wonder and gratuity that even when you thought it was the child of a manwhore, you would would bear it and cause no harm to it and you’d be juast as loving and doting and safeguarding it which pleased him greatly and really proved to him the exceptional character you had as you nodded yes before he happily grabbed your face and kissed you with so much passion and so much feeling it was almost overpowering.

“Ok, new change of plans, I am marrying you as soon as I possibly can, I have a ring for you actually here, in my pocket, when you had that attendant hand the journal that I had written in back to me and that one line that you loved me back was all I needed to know, I figured you would be a while and I immediately rode to the closest jewelry store and bought you a ring and raced back and I barely made it back before we came inside the throne room. I am taking you home to Whydah and only keep whatever servants you’re really attached to back at Mirador but otherwise, leave the rest to whoever you want and I will never leave your side again and I pledge my heart, mind, soul and absolute fidelity to you from this day on.” Demsey vowed as he got the ring from his pocket and slipped it onto your finger.  

“Likewise. Although I would like to make one small suggestion.” You offered as you wiped the last of your tears away. 

“Name it, it’s yours.” Demsey answered back. 

“If we ever get to the point where we need a break from being Duke and Duchess Voyambi, we can take breaks and go out on the town and Mr and Mrs. Draft.” You proposed which got him to smile wide and laugh. 

“That sounds perfect. And we can continue to make bets in Kamoba, as Mr. and Mrs. Draft.” Demsey suggested. 

“Perfect. Now, get what you need, load it onto Charlico because right now, he is yours, because it is only right that a mated pair of griffins be owned by a mated pair of people and fly Charlico home to Whydah.” You ordered as you looked at the aquamarine teal stoned ring with a halo of diamonds around it with so much pride and happiness and now that you knew that it was actually Demsey to save you from everything and that you had no more reasons to try to escape anything, because what you wanted and what you needed was already yours and already in your embrace and being married to Demsey and carrying his children was all you wanted and it made the sting of all the revelations earlier today melt away and you felt strengthened and fortified and so supremely happy because you were happily and freely choosing Demsey just as much as he was happily and freely choosing you, as “complicated” as the circumstances were. 

“Yes Ma’am.” Demsey giggled as he kissed you again. 

“Good dragon, very good dragon. I owe you everything. Thank you so much.” Demsey happily cooed to Grevu who happily wrapped his head and neck around you both and happily soaked up your affectionate petting and scratching just as a servant came into the barn. 

“Is Duke Demsey Voyambi in here?” He called out. 

“Yeah, I’m here,” Demsey said as you untangled from him as Grevu lifted his head to reveal you both and together you walked hand in hand to the servant who looked relieved to see you. 

“And Sultana Saharazat! Oh good, I’ve found you too. Your bets on the Kamoba battles, they have returned along with their payouts.” He said as he handed Demsey a thick letter full of bills and then handed you a large parcel of bills too as you noticed the letters on top as addressed to Mr. Draft and Miss Draft. 

“So who did you bet on?” You asked him. 

“You, you beat out Benny, I bet on you to win the battle and you did.” Demsey said as he took the letter and showed you before you took the letter and showed him. 

“You bet on me too?” He cooed to you as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed the crown of your head as he read it. 

“And with the pay out being one in 20 that you would win your class, I now have at least 2000 pounds here.” You giggled as you opened it to reveal the stacks of pound notes before you put those into the saddle bag with Heavencrest but kept the note and put it into your pocket. 

“Would you come to Mirador with me today though? I still wish to have your input and sensibilities on how to handle all of the wealth and businesses and how I should alot what I’ve just inherited and who it should go to, but I do have one thing clear in mind, all businesses need to have unions for the workers, everything has a union back in Dorierra and when Jane told me that you were pro union, it of course makes the best sense, earning money is of course the goal but not at the price of the lives of your workers.” You suggested sweetly as he simply pocketed his own winnings but put the actual letter in a bet into his pocket where your ring had once occupied. 

“Of course, I would be delighted to, and I’m honestly happy and relieved we agree on this.” He reassured you before Benny came rushing in with Sierge carrying a whole bag full of money since his bets were structured in such a way that they compounded so he just won over a hundred thousand pounds for Benny beating The Saharan Viper and The Copper Cobra along with your heir father, his wife and his mother. 

“Grevu! Lift this curse off of me right now!” Benny demanded of Grevu as you and Demsey watched her pass you curiously as you snickered a laugh. 

“Shut up Audra! You just won the world! You have no right to laugh at me!” Benny spat angrily as Grevu growled at her before he got up and balled himself up, like a cat curling up on a rug before a fire and turned away from her as your family was coming into the barn to leave too. 

“Aw, does “the happy heart beat” not make you so happy Benny?” You asked her in a teasing, almost taunting tone. 

“Don’t you dare say those words to me, there is nothing happy about this situation at all!” Benny said. 

“Happy heart beat?” Demsey repeated. 

“In the far east- in the emperors harem, that’s how pregnancy is diagnosed and what is said when it’s discovered. It’s a way of diagnosing pregnancy. Dr. Chu told me, that’s why I told Sierge to follow Benny and stay with her.” You revealed. 

“And thats...” Demsey began as he looked at you questioningly. 

“Yup.”  You eagerly nodded with a bright smile. 

“Oh good you have not left yet.” Your mother blew out a breath of relief at seeing you as all of them were carrying small packets of money, won from them betting on you for winning the Kamoba tournament. 

“No, Demsey is coming to Mirador with us, since he’s been running his businesses with great success in the English market, I want his input to help me decide what I should do with all of the Morrigan’s businesses and help me decide who should get what.” You explained as you happily stood with your arm around his waist as he stood with his arm around your shoulders and happily held the other to your side as Benny just rolled her eyes in annoyance. 

“Axal! Get your ass down here and have Grevu take this curse off of me this instant! He cursed me last night before the night Kamoba games and I refuse to live another moment under it!” Benny screamed down the barn which got everyone to stare at her in confusion except for you and Demsey who were content to just stand back and see how this was going to play out. 

“How did he curse you?” Axal asked with a barely contained grin. 

“He just...did! I just need him to lift it!” Benny hotly demanded. 

“Right. I don’t believe you. Unless you can give me solid proof and evidence that he did and show me how he cursed you, I’m not getting involved at all.” Axal dismissed as he waived her off and began to walk away. 

“He got me pregnant!” Benny desperately confessed as everyone gasped and stared at Benny in shock as you couldn’t help it, you snorted and snickered a laugh which soon infected Demsey too and the others around you. 

“Wow! You had sex with Grevu? By heaven above, Sierge’s dick isn’t enough for you that you had to fuck my dragon?! How did he even fit…?” Axal began to ask.

“No! I didn’t fuck your dragon, his cock would split me in half! No, I...he made the seed that was already in me take root and now his magic is protecting that root and I need him to lift his protection of that root so I can remove it!” Benny finally confessed. 

“And whose “root” is it?” Axal asked. 

“Who knows, it could be mine, it could be Viscount Whiteales or any of the other orc gentlemen  you were schmoozing with at the Kamoba lunch and dinner feasts, it’s hard to tell with a whoring slut like her.” Sierge said as everyone ‘ooooh’ed’ with another snickering laugh as Anavia and Loreiris tsked and shook their heads. 

“Your mother will be so disappointed in you. You knew penilie- vaginal sex was forbidden for this very reason, is this why you couldn’t get the dowager status?” Loreiris asked. 

“Yes, it’s cost me everything! Now Grevu, take it back!” Benny demanded. 

“But what about that leverage you were going to use against Audra when and if she could not get you that Dowager status? Surely you can’t fault her- for you- not getting it, because we were all there to hear how she wanted all of us to have that status and didn’t single you out to not have it.” Loreiris pointed out. 

“You were going to betray Audra after everything she did for you?” Your mother scuffed in disgust. 

“No, I wasn’t, I swear!” Benny said as real fear came back into her eyes. 

“But you told me that you were going to.” Loreiris insisted. 

“And me,” your heir father insisted. 

“And me,” his wife Maradiem added. 

“And me,” his mother Anavia added. 

“It was just something to say for the Kamoba, I didn’t mean it!” Benny pleaded as your whole family began coming towards her and began to surround her as everyone was glaring at her before she was pushed back so that her back hit the wall. 

“What is going on now?” Yalin and her children asked as they came into the stables to see your family off and saw Benny as she ducked and dodged through your family to get to her. 

“Please Mama Yalin, you have to help me! Grevu cursed me so that seed took root in my womb and his magic is protecting the root and I need it removed before I could ever go back to Dorierra!” Benny pleaded. 

“Well whose seed was it?” Yalin asked. 

“Sierge’s.” Benny finally confessed. 

“Are you sure? You were seen practically hanging all over all the other orc families yesterday, it could have been any of theirs, after all, you were offering all of them the leverage you had collected for Gregori against Audra and Demsey so Audra could be with Ramsey, but obviously, you see how that didn’t go so well.” Loreiris said as she gestured to you and Demsey as well as to Ramsey who was between Axal and Octavia. 

“So you were going to try to sell that leverage to the highest bidder?” Yalin asked Benny as she pulled away from Benny and fixed her with a disapproving glare. 

“No!” Benny shook her head no. 

“That’s not what she told everyone else, I specifically overheard her tell Kate Whitesale and her brother that she would give that leverage to them so that Kate would be the next Duchess Voyambi and that Benny would be the next Viscountess Whitesale since Sierge was the second son and heir to nothing and had no power or wealth to his name because it all rested with Demsey and how getting that leverage came with ‘the unfortunate side effect of Sierge’s attentions and affections which you did not at all return’.” Loreiris paraphrased. 

“I overheard those exact sentiments too, you offered the same thing to the other orc families that day too and swore up and down how you had Sierge’s unwanted and unreciprocated attentions and affections and how you needed “saving from him”.” Axal insisted. 

“Oh dear, did you get caught in your own web?” Yalin asked Benny as she shook her head and looked so profoundly disappointed. 

“Well, unfortunately, I’m afraid I can’t help you. Because the right thing to do was once you saw that whatever leverage you got by whatever means you used, was no longer wanted or needed, you should have been a good friend to Audra and forgotten all about it. Because I never asked you to get that leverage and I never wanted it used against Audra. Who has clearly already had enough horrible tactics used on her.” Yalin offered. 

“And I never asked you to get leverage on her either. So your leverage was and is completely useless to me.” Ramsey insisted. 

“Nor I.” Charlotte chimed in. 

“No but your father did!” Benny insisted to Ramsey and Charlotte. 

“Right, the same one who hired a doctor to poison an old man to death, how did that turn out by the way?” Ramsey sarcastically mocked her before turned to his mother. 

“Horribly. I fear your father faces some intense discipline and will be forced to pay recompense with interest for years and years to come.” Yalin answered. 

“And once it is known that you are with child, that classifies you as “fallen” and no man in nobility in any country either here or anywhere else in Europa wants a fallen lady, no one will want to claim you. I suppose if you have anyone at Dorierra will take you on- in such a condition, that would be what’s best but for fallen ladies, there are few choices. Maybe the father might be induced to take you, if he will have you but only if you had not betrayed him or tried to cast him off before hand. But with the fortune Sierge just won from the Kamoba, he could have any number of ladies.” Yalin said as she gestured to him. 

“And with that fortune he could buy any number of the businesses I just inherited, so it’s not like he’s left with nothing, no fortune or income or power or influence, he could be a man of industry and wealth that might even exceed his brother and he could always claim his own title of nobility, it might not be as high as a Duke but it’s better than nothing, after all we are all Maquis now right?” You pointed out to everyone else who had agreed on staying in England. 

“But he’s the one who gave me the leverage against you in the first place!” Benny said as she pointed at Sierge accusingly as everyone then looked at Sierge. 

“Look, you and your hands and mouth were very persuasive but I only told you what you wanted to hear. It’s not like anything that I told you was necessarily completely true or at all accurate or even current. Because what’s that saying? Something only ten percent true is still 100% misleading? You’re not the only one who knows how to work other people and you weren’t subtle about the fact that you were working me, but thanks for the inside info to bet on you against the Saharan Viper, even as dirty as you played her, I now have enough money to buy any bride I wanted from Dorierra if I ever wanted one, or I could just as easily court and marry any eligible lady here in England. So, all in all, thanks Benny for doing me the backhanded favor.” Sierge winked at Demsey with a smug smile himself a shrug from his shoulders. 

“But the fact that you’re not just willing, but desperately wanting to kill my unborn child because it just happens to inconvenience you and puts your treachery on display and exposes you for who and what you really are. I don’t know if I want you as a wife. I can’t trust that you wouldn’t hurt any other children I could ever give to you if I were to take you as my wife, for any number of reasons. So go ahead, let Grevu lift his protection from you and “uproot” the little sapling and destroy it before it can sprout any further as you so chose to phrase it. You’re free of my attentions and affections as of this moment and every moment to come, exactly how you wanted to be, right?” Sierge questioned rhetorically as even you could see the beginning of tears start to make his eyes glassy as he tried to remain composed as even you could feel how profoundly hurt he was by this betrayal too. 

“Yes, you know why? Because you never once respected me! Or women in general. You treated me like a pet, a toy, you feel a woman’s place is in the home, birthing heirs and too stupid for anything else, helpless and weak and completely dependant. I am so much more than you could ever comprehend, let alone appreciate. And being forced to be bonded, much less married to a stupid, honorless, pig headed, stubborn, egotistical, selfish, much less completely incompetent, lackluster lover, who is as reckless with honor as he is money. You are ruination itself! And you will lose all of that wealth as quickly as you got it!” Benny roared angrily as everyone blinked in surprise. 

“Wow, been holding that in for a while now huh?” Calla asked Benny. 

“Yes, and I’m done, Leumeni, Coravien, come on, we’re leaving. we are going home to Dorierra, we can still catch the train.” Benny barked at her brothers. 

“I’m not leaving with you. I’m free, remember? Unlike you, I got dowager status, so I don’t answer to you. Besides, everything I could ever want and need is right here with me in England. Not in Dorierra.” Leumeni answered back calmly as he looked to Kiera who happily took his hand and held it tight. 

“And you’re more than welcome to stay at Mirador while you find a fine house of your own.” You offered to him. 

“Thanks, I’ll take you up on that.” Leumeni smiled happily. 

“Me too, if Demsey will take me on as a partner in his soap business, I’ll give him every soap recipe I know and we can have the same soaps and things here that we do at home. Besides, I’m a Marquis here in England and the King offered me a living of ten thousand pounds a year, which I understand is a lot and the other orc ladies here are actually really pretty. So I’m staying too.” Coravien answered his sister back too. 

“Yeah can I get in on that soap thing too?” Leumeni asked. 

“Absolutely. I’d be happy to have you on board.” Demsey readily agreed as you smiled happily at him as you squeezed him into your side and being so proud to have such a wonderful man as your fiance. 

“And London needs a proper moura restaurant,” Storren pointed out. 

“Yeah, I ain't going back either, I’d love to open a good moura restaurant. Give that Savoy I keep hearing about a good run for its money.” Brima grinned. 

“And my place is with Tzane, I ain’t going back either, not until I marry Tzane and we go back together to gather all of my things from Dorrierra so I can fully move here, Whydah is from what I hear a large home, big enough for more than one couple.” Calla shrugged. 

“Mama Yalin?” You called out. 

“Yes Audra Dear?” Yalin asked, happy and elated that you were still speaking to her in such an affectionate way, having feared that Gregori had completely destroyed your relationships with their entire family. 

“Would it be possible to get a marriage license for Demsey and I to get married sooner than later, he has asked me to marry him and I’ve accepted, and I would like to get married within the week at least so that all the members of my family who wish to return to Dorierra can see me get married in the moura tradition before they leave to go home to Dorierra?” You asked her hopefully as you raised your left hand and turned it so she could see it as everyone gasped excitedly and cheered to see it before offering their congratulations to both of you. 

“Surely you can postpone your departure from England for a day or two can’t you Benny? You could still go back with my family when they want to go back.” You offered rather sweetly, if not just a tad smugly because what you had told her in the Kamoba battle was coming true, just the way the gods and goddesses had told you it would. 

“Only if Grevu will lift this curse off of me first.” Benny decided. 

“Grevu, go ahead, do as she asks. Lift the protection.” Axal decided before Benny marched down and kneeled in front of Grevu who blew a red smoke over her and then inhaled it all back in a moment later. 

“Thank you, you overgrown rat with wings.” Benny snipped as she turned away from him before Grevu spitefully growled and knocked her down onto the floor on her way out with his snout as Benny cursed in pain before she felt the pain seep and radiate from her lower belly as she clutched it as everyone else just shook their heads and carried on with business of getting ready to leave as Siege simply walked out of the barn and towards the carriage with his other siblings and their partners since his parents had left Buckingham palace to their London home right after the “court” was ajourned. 

“You ready Demsey Darling?” You asked Demsey as you both got into Heavencrest’s and Charlico’s saddles respectfully. 

“Absolutely Audra Dearest.” Demsey grinned before he put the helmet on before Heavencrest and Charlico raced to reach to the skies as Demsey and yourself flew to Mirador to discuss business with your family and friends, including Marquise Bellafont because you wanted her to tell her children herself of their own freedom and rise to nobility since the King and Queen had quickly signed off on her nobility so she could show it to her children herself. 

Once you arrived home, Rose, Myra’s eldest daughter, was the first to greet you. 

“My Lady, you would not believe what the papers have been saying about you.” Rose began. 

“Rose, I love you dearly, but I need you to go back inside and get dressed in your Sunday best, your mother is coming with really fantastic, exciting news, and get all of your siblings and tell them to do the same.” You excitedly told her. 

“Really?” Rose asked you. 

“Yes really, and after today, you and your siblings are servants to no one, not even me.” You hinted as she gasped as she looked from you to Duke Demsey who was nodding in confirmation with you, wearing a similar smile. 

“Excuse me then,” Rose happily excused herself as she rushed back into the house and called all of her siblings together and repeated what you told them as they all quickly left and got dressed in their Sunday best and packed everything they owned before their mother arrived and eagerly embraced her children and revealed the truth and then repeated what the King and Queen had told her what the story should be as they all agreed to the story before they came back to you as all of them hugged you tight before you presented them with your winnings. 

“Now, this is all I was able to win in the Kamoba battle, take this money, go to a really good dress shop or even a few of them, put this down as a down payment on your new wardrobes. I want every member of your family to dress and appear as lofty as your station permits. I have some jewelry I wish to bestow upon all of you. Although I will insist that all of Agnes’ jewelry be given to Jane along with anything else Jane has any sentimental attachments to and I understand if Jane would like to inherit her mother’s connections and will use them how she sees fit.” You insisted. 

“Oh of course, of course.” Myra readily agreed. 

“Now it will take time to save up some money for decent dowries for the ladies. But once everyone else gets here, and we all discuss together how we are going to divide everything. I’m sure by the end of tonight, all of us will be satisfied with the outcomes.” You reassured them. 

“Thank you Audra, you’ve been so good to us, is there anything we can do to repay you?” Rose asked as she hugged you again. 

“Just stick to the story that the King proclaimed, be kind and good to Jane and especially little Edward. He will miss his parents, but hopefully when he grows up, he will learn to accept things. And I want all of you to have the same freedom I’m going to enjoy, and that is to choose for yourselves what your lives will be, who you marry and marry for love if you can at all possible, if you even want to get married that is. But choose happiness, whatever that may be and I will do my best to find some kind of tutor, so that all of you get the same education and same learning and gain understanding of business so that you handle your new acquisitions well and not squander it or let anyone take advantage of you either. You are neither servant or slave to anyone’s will but your own from this moment on.” You urged them before everyone seemed to arrive as you introduced your family to Myra’s children. 

You all crammed in around your table as several ladies had to take on the laps of their partners as your steward from Broadcove, Mr. Chattingham, who was so happy to hear of your own victory and in a way, Myra’s victory over his own former masters was key in knowing all the businesses that Edward Senior, Richard and Agnes had, and doubted much had changed in the year since his service to them ended and had incredible insights on what businesses would be best for each of your brothers as well as Myra’s sons as you and Demsey insisted that each business would have a union to protect it’s workers as Mr. Chattingham named who Richard had hired to specifically root out union organizers within his businesses as you knew already who you were going to be immediately firing before you hand them over since your parents had gotten word before they left that a messenger from the King along with Scotland Yard had been dispatched to all of the banks and other businesses and was in the process of having it all turned over to you and put into your name as it was immediately a prerequisite that the unions would be brought in and stay in place or you would not hand any of them over because even in Dorierra, every Dorrieran man was in his own union with the stables so such a thing was not new to you or anyone from your family as even Sierge offered to buy a business himself so that he had something other than his family’s soap business and his soon to be brother in law’s restaurant, but something to call all his own before there was a knock on the door. 

“Hi, I’m Mage Amaryllis, Mage Altissia informed me that there was a spell on this house to disable the messengeraries? And she asked me to come and lift it.” She offered. 

“Yes, thank you so much for coming, please, do whatever you can.” You invited her. 

“Thank you.” She said before she found the absolute center point of the house and closed her eyes before moving and gesturing around herself as you saw what looked like magic shackles begin to break around the messengeraris in each room before she did a pulling down motion from the ceiling and all of a sudden it felt like a fresh breeze flowed through the house as the very air felt lighter and less stuffy or still or smothering. 

“There, much better, things should be working much better and much smoother from now on.” Mage Amaryllis smiled. 

“Thank you so much, how much do I owe you?” You asked. 

“Nothing, the King and Queen have already paid me and I just came from Broadcove and have already lifted this same spell from there. But if you ever do need anything else, either magically or otherwise, here’s my messengerari address as well as my own home address here in London, write or call any time.” She said as she handed you a card with her name and contact information written on it as she had another one for Myra before everyone else also took a card from her before she saw herself out before Myra and all of her children did the same as you assured them that they were all definately invited to your wedding whenever you got a chance to plan it and execute it. 

“Ok, I need to try something.” You told your family as you left the dining room and went to the living room took the keypad on the messengerari in the livingroom and punched in the address to your other friends back in Dorierra and smiled excitedly as your friends faces then began to fill the surface as they were equally surprised and happy and excited to see you. 

“Demsey!” You called as he came in before you took his hand and introduced him to your friends. 

“This is Duke Demsey Voyambi, I’m marrying him as soon as our marriage license comes through and it will be a love match this time.” You informed them proudly as they all gasped and gushed and squealed and offered you their congratulations. 

“So like, how soon is soon?” Jenniverre asked. 

“Probably a few days,” Demsey answered. 

“Oh that’s more than enough time, who wants to fly to London with me?” Jenniverre asked everyone who was on the group call. 

“Oh give me an hour to get packed, do you have a room where we could stay?” Jenniverre asked. 

“Yes. Is there any way you guys can bring some figs? Like bushel baskets full or even saplings?” You asked hopefully. 

“Yeah, why?” They asked. 

“Pregnancy cravings.” You answered in Marinai with a bashful blush and smile. 

“And? Was it at least good?” They eagerly asked. 

“Oh, how divine is the god’s blessing!” You said as you waived your hand above your head which was a marinai euphemism for meaning ‘sex so good it’s as if you were having actual sex with the gods’ which got them all to giggle and laugh salaciously. 

“Oooh, of course of course, yeah, you got it, we’ll stop by the greenhouses.” Adrilody confirmed. 

“We’ll be there as soon as we can get packed and saddled up, we’re flying in, see you soon! I can’t wait!” Jenniverre squealed as she and the others quickly got off the call. 

“As if this house wasn’t full enough.” You chuckled to Demsey. 

 “Well Whydah is huge, they are just as welcome there too, any friend of yours is a friend of mine, just as any enemy of yours is an enemy of mine too.” Demsey offered. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him appreciatively as you stood on tip toe as he ducked down to kiss you easier as he couldn’t help but palm your lower belly reverently. 

“What does ‘savacia’ mean?” Demsey asked.

“Pregnancy cravings.” You answered. 

“Wow, this early?” Demsey asked. 

“Oh yeah, moura’s can tell almost instantaneously when we get pregnant, morning sickness hits early but really only lasts a week at the most, usually only a few days, Grevu hid my morning sickness by making you and Axal start throwing up and I was so distracted with the mourkatili poisoning and Dr. Chu did say that I would have cravings but what’s usually the go to thing that those who have been cured from mourkatili is actually- vegetables, like celery, usually rhubarb. So for me, the figs were a surprise and I didn’t think anything of it.” You murmured.

“Who said “savacia”?” Your mother asked as she came into the living room from having walked down the hallway from the bathroom that was in the hallway. 

“I didn’t. Calla?” Benny asked her as she came down from claiming a room of her own upstairs. 

“Nope, I did.” You volunteered. 

“The figs! Figs are your savacia?!” Your mother exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah, that’s kind of why I really wanted to get married, rather quickly, to the father.” You answered as you nodded over to Demsey as everyone came rushing in and congratulating you again. 

“So I was right?! You are pregnant!” Benny gasped as a smug smile threatened to overtake her face. 

“Yes I am, about three and a half weeks along.” You confirmed. 

“So I was right about you getting pregnant at the Masquerade Ball.” Benny beamed, feeling vindicated that she her hunch was right. 

“Yup, but not by any manwhore as you so claimed, but by him, he just changed his clothes and went under our assumed names we gave each other so as not to cause any suspicion and we’ve been secretly courting for say, the last two months would you say? Keeping it so secret and hidden away was especially hard on both of us, especially when I was being pursued by the Raymonds, wasn’t it?” You readily supplied your family as Demsey didn’t dare disagree with you because that sounded like the perfect explanation for everything as he found himself smiling brightly because that should have been the truth because he had every intention of telling you he wanted to court you at the ball at Havenfield but he got interrupted by Ramsey in the art gallery. 

“So hi, I’m Audra Draft, pleasure to meet you.” You said to Benny as you offered your hand to shake hers as she looked both disgusted and disappointed by the fact that her “leverage” wasn’t even real leverage at all as she crossed her arms under her bountiful bosom and scowled at you before you let your hand drop. 

“You! You lied to me!” Benny accused Sierge who was just grinning smugly himself, proud of his brother for finally connecting the dots so to speak but he wasn’t about to disagree with those sentiments. 

“Yup, it’s true, I did lie to you, because what kind of brother would I be if I actually gave my brother up for something as meaningless as what you talked up our exchange to be? Demsey only gave me Audra’s assumed name, to protect her and her honor and I respected him enough to respect his wishes in protecting her and her honor. Something which you’ve been hell bent on destroying since the beginning. And I wasn’t going to let you actually have anything capable of destroying me and my family.” Sierge tossed back as Benny narrowed her eyes dangerously at him. 

“But since she’s pregnant, she’s not “fallen” too?” Benny demanded. 

“No, absolutely not, I’m the one that got her that way and I have every intention of making her an honorable and upstanding lady and no one would dare question me or my word about the matter and it’s still early enough that when we take our honeymoon to anywhere she wants to go, it’s not uncommon for new brides to come home pregnant from their honeymoon.” Demsey reasoned. 

“Just think, the same could have been for you, if you hadn’t insisted on “uprooting my seed” as you so “delicately” put it.” Sierge murmured from his corner across the room. 

“So? How was it? Was it good at least?” Axal murmured in your ear. 

“Oh how divine is the gods blessing!” You repeated with the same way you did before which got your whole family to cheer and laugh as Benny scuffed in disgust. 

“You know, maybe you should go back to Dorierra, you’ve beaten The Saharan Viper in Kamoba of all things, surely any man would think twice before harassing you on the train.” Your mother suggested with a forced polite smile.

“You will have to hurry, the last train leaves in an hour and a half.” Tzane suggested as he looked at the time from the clock in the room. 

“Fine, I will.” Benny said as she went back upstairs and got repacked as you called your carriage around and got Benny’s things loaded up as she used her remaining fee she had been paid just for coming as Leumeni and Coravien saw her off. 

“Well now, shall we go out to dinner? To the Savoy perhaps?” You suggested to everyone else once Benny rode away in the carriage. 

“But I’ll need you to help me get dressed,” you urged Demsey before taking him by the hand and leading him upstairs to your bedroom to finally strip out of your pant suit since you had long since peeled yourself out of your riding leathers and the moment the door was shut Demsey’s hands were already all over you, practically ripping these clothes off of you.  

“So what does “ah-shamala-show-in” mean?” Demsey asked as you helped him get undressed to a degree too as you walked him towards a chair for a quick sex session before dinner. 

“It means ‘oh how divine is the gods blessing’ in the literal translation. But it’s a euphemism in marinai that means ‘sex so good it’s like having sex with a god’.” You giggled as you got him into the chair and readily seated yourself on your now familiar friend and began to ride him with gusto. 

“Ah, that makes everyone’s reactions much more understandable. And may I just say- the feeling is very much mutual.” Demsey happily replied as he drove up into you with equal passion as he held you so close and looked up at you like you were a goddess he would be devoutly worshiping for the rest of his life as you welcomed his affections with open arms, literally, as your moura marks were lighting up the room brighter than any candle or fire could. 

“Gods I just should have told you sooner, I should have been able to tell you at the ball at Havenfield that I wanted to court you.” Demsey confessed as nipped at your ear after kissing up the column of your graceful neck. 

“I have a feeling you were about to before Ramsey cut you off.” You smiled as your fingers carded through his hair and scratched deliciously at his scalp while his own fingernails raked down your back as his cock was exactly what your body had been craving this whole time as you were almost beside yourself in happiness that you actually sexually craved your soon to be husband and were almost helplessly attracted to him on every level. 

“I should have been rude and insisted on saying it anyway.” Demsey confided. 

“Well in my mind and heart, you did and obviously, you have my answer.” You giggled before you kissed him soundly. 

“You can say that you wanted to keep it quiet out of respect for Ramsey and of course Gregori and Yalin and you wanted to make sure that I had my choice of any bachelor of my choosing but seeing me being openly courted by another just cemented our feelings for each other and simply as a ruse you pretended to be interested in your other options.” You reassured him just before you found your release and, for the sake of the others in the house, you kept your keening cry of bliss down by biting down on the juncture of his neck and shoulder and whimpering while your body shuddered in delight which only spurned Demsey to finally release his precious seed into the only “field” it belonged in as he held you so tight. 

“I am never, ever- letting you go.” Demsey professed as he nuzzled the crux of your neck and shoulder and breathed in deeply, cementing this wonderful smell of you in his mind and was so relieved that the woman who he had fallen in love with and the woman he had fallen into lust with- were the same woman and supremely relieved that any stigma or jealousy you may have felt when you found out about the “other Audra” was now done and over with and any he had felt had melted into nothingness. This was so much better than he could have ever hoped, or imagined or even feared and once you both recovered he, very patiently and lovingly helped you get dressed in a gown that you insisted matched what he was wearing so that you looked like a proper couple before simply putting your hair up in a simple bun to hide it’s rather shortened nature.

You returned downstairs to where your family had gathered and had to take a few carriages to the restaurant before they happily got one big table put together as Demsey invited his parents back for the meal to see for themselves  and they were so happy and overjoyed to have you in the family even if they were disappointed that Benny had chosen not to stay with Sierge but they were relieved and pleasantly surprised to hear the news of your “secret” courting of their son and realized that was why you were polite with Ramsey but were not returning his efforts and realized that Demsey had actually played that circumstance cleverly and were thrilled to have Leumeni and Coravien added to the family soap business as well as Leumeni, Calla and Storren added to their family and eagerly talked to Brima and Coravien about the other orc ladies that were in the gentry before as they of course had their own ideas about the wedding as Demsey made sure to insist that it should be as soon as your friends could arrive and that it should be rather small, with only family and close friends because your wedding to Edward had been so big and such a huge ordeal that you didn’t need or want that big of a wedding which you readily agreed with which his parents could not argue with as it was readily agreed that the London home would be better equipped to handle such an affair then since the majority of the guests would be at your own home as Amara and Storren also announced their courting, along with Kiera and Leumeni and Calla and Tzane as their weddings would be much more planned and prepared because Calla, Kiera and Amara wanted the bigger, grander weddings which you and Demsey did confirm you would be back from your honeymoon in time to attend and you were all relieved when Demesy’s parents gladly accepted the cover that the King had insisted on, especially with you and Jane especially providing off the cuff “details” that added more “authenticity” to it and made it sound closer to the gospel truth as it was accepted as such as Jane was given the most sincerest sympathies for the sudden loss of her parents and their sanity but the fact that she was protected because of her being at the Palace of Windsor as you continued to eat dinner with Demsey on one side of you and Jane on the other, just as it should be. 

[whumpbby]

Reverse Robins au: Damian doesnt really get along with Tim. In fact they fight often. Jason makes himself scarce when they fight and the only one that can find him is Dick, occasionally Cass finds him though. The last fight was bigger and Jason is no where to be found. This is bad. Dick is pissed at them. Bruce is going to kill them if Alfred doesn't do it first.

Listen, in this Au I have a special thing for Tim - since I can’t kill him, cause Jay is the one who died (alwaysXD) so I had to make something else equally dramatic and disruptive to the family's life and came up with an idea where we steal some from Barbs - say, Tim got shot by a villain (Joker? Harvey?) and ended up paralysed. And crushed by the feeling of uselessness. 

He was barely 17, in full swing of gaining notoriety as Robin and building his life around being a hero and Bruce’s support and then... and it all ended with a bullet to the back. He was despondent for a time. And bitter - because, of course, Bruce’s way of dealing with this was to remove Tim from the vigilantism “for his own good” and Damian was following through, and Tim was not that great with taking no for an answer and decided that this won’t stop him. He will not allow something so paltry to stop him in his tracks. 

The difference between him and Barbs was that Tim had more resources - he knew a man with a magical source of healing that could be talked around to helping Tim get back on his feet. No matter what Bruce and Damian thought, Tim wasn’t a toy to pick up and put down at will. 

So, he made contact with Ra’s and the ancient man was all too happy to make a deal with the young man he had his eyes set on for a while now. He would help, of course he would, Tim was too good to be brought down by something so pedestrian as a simple injury. In exchange he wanted nothing more than Timothy staying with him for a time, learning of the ancient knowledge. Just that. 

Tim agreed. 

Bruce, once he got a wind of this, was furious. Damian was terrified for his brother - he knew what his grandfather was like, he could not believe that Tim would put himself in such risk! They weren’t going to let him go!

Tim, however, was decided. He wasn’t a Wayne was he? He was just a ward. They were uninterested in helping him in  the way he needed and so he was going to take his recovery into his own hands. 

So, he left to join the League for a time.

The time turned out to be 3 years. No one knew what he’d learned and what deals Ra’s made with him in that time - not even Talia could tell, once Damian begged her to keep an eye on Tim. 

So, 3 years alter Tim returned to Gotham - walking on his own, more skilled than ever and rearing to go back to being Robin. 

However, the part was already taken - by a young omega buck with a Bowery accent. 

Omega. Bruce took an omega out on the streets! Ha! What a joke! 

So, the conflict kinda establishes - Tim creates the Red Robin for himself and works mostly alone - he’s tainted now, by Ra’s influence, isn’t he, in Bruce’s eyes. Damian is standoffish with him and the new kid is annoying, so he keeps away from the Manor. 

Meanwhile, Bruce isn’t thinking Tim is tainted - he just doesn’t know what to do and say to his second son. He feels guilty that Tim got hurt in the first place and then couldn’t help him, and then was a hypocrite. He himself went to Ra’s for training, after all, and he was just a stupid kid with a chip on his shoulder who wanted to fix the world - Tim’s situation was so much more pressing... 

And Damian, well, Damian was always conflicted about his grandfather. He always expected deception and for him Tim was in a way a ticking time-bomb that Ra’s left them with somehow. They could not trust that man and the fact that Tim felt comfortable while dealing with him scared Damian to a degree. Tim in his head was a little boy with dreamy eyes and charming enthusiasm - and this young man that returned to them was bitter and sarcastic, and didn’t look up to Damian anymore. He was an young alpha challenging the pack and Damian hated it!

That was also the time Tim was getting serious with another young vigilante - Spoiler, who was making a name for herself in the business and being a serious pain in Batman’s back...  

And Jason, well, Jason wasn’t stupid - and he wasn’t going to stand for it. His tactic was simple - annoy the Red Robin (competitive much?) until the alpha stopped being an ass to him and the other two assholes from the Manor will stop being so damn dramatic! He was an omega and needed a cohesive pack to develop well, damit! He was getting anxiety form all that growling and dick-measuring! :O         

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

hey everybody, how are we all doing? I’m sorry that it’s been a few days since I’ve posted but with everything going on in the world I haven’t been feeling up to anything lately. Everything going on in this country right now is just making me sad, disappointed and angry but I’m not here to talk politics or whatever you want to call it anymore. My personal accounts I have spoken out but this isn’t what this account is for so I won’t keep going. I’ll end it on that note and just say that I hope we’re all doing okay, being safe, doing the right thing, looking out for one another and speaking up.

You’re Taking Up a Fraction of My Mind pt.4

           It had been a while since Nightwing had taken to swinging throughout the rooftops of Gotham.  There was a part of him that missed it, but there was the part of him that didn’t. There was just something about being back in his home town that just made feel slightly off of his game. He didn’t want to admit it but he was out of shape, or more so out of step.

           Truthfully, he was in the best shape of his life but he didn’t take to the streets of Jump City every night like he did during his formative years in Gotham.  Jump City was relatively safe compared to Gotham. Of course they had their fair share of dangers with the random super villain here and there who was trying some end of the world or some get rich quick scheme, and also you had the occasional off world or inter-dimensional mission which was always fun. But, for the most part he’d be in bed by now or watching a movie in the common room with his teammates.

           “Having trouble keeping up?” Jason, Gotham’s new Robin, taunted, landing on the rooftop of the G.C.P.D. a few minutes before Nightwing had. He had noted how Nightwing was a few paces behind the new Dynamic Duo and couldn’t help but feel smug. “Maybe you should hang up the tights again.”

           “Look kid-,” Nightwing growled, pointing a finger at him.

           “Enough.” Batman cut them off, not giving them a chance to further start their bickering.

           He gave them a sharp glare through his cowl, daring them to make him regret allowing them to accompany him tonight. He knew the pair didn’t hit it off right away when they first met three years ago when Dick officially hung up the Robin costume and joined the Titans full time as Nightwing. Dick hadn’t taken too kindly to being replaced so quickly and especially by some street kid who had the audacity to try and steal the tires of the batmobile; Dick was always known for being, as Alfred put it, a ‘tad bit dramatic’.

           He shared a few choice words with Bruce upon hearing about Jason through Alfred. Bruce couldn’t even face Dick himself to tell him about it, Dick still scoffed about it. After all the years of servitude and comradery, it meant nothing to Bruce. Dick couldn’t help but feel bitter about it, seeing him being teamed up with someone else in a new Robin costume. Yes, he gave up the mantle of Robin, wanting to grow out of Batman’s shadow and make a name for himself. But regardless of if he gave it up or not Dick Grayson was Robin, not Jason Todd.

           Without another word coming from the two boys, Batman let out a low grumbled hum. His demeanor changed back from slightly agitated dad to the cold bat that lurked around Gotham City as night. Satisfied with their compliance, he made his way over to where Jim Gordon stood, next to the Batsignal that had been lit moment ago while the batfamily had been patrolling over Gotham.

           “I see you have a guest tonight,” Gordon nodded from his spot next to the spotlight, nodding towards Nightwing. He hadn’t seen the kid in a couple of months now and sort of missed him; his bright attitude was a good balance to the Dark Knight’s more stoic one.

           Batman let out another ‘hmm’ as response, sounding almost like a tired father with a pair of fighting toddlers.  He nodded towards the signal, “What do you have?”

           “Mail,” Gordon said reaching into his coat pocket pulling out an envelope addressed to the G.C.P.D. but the name above the address was addressed to Batman. He handed off the envelope, having already opened it and knew what was inside. “It wasn’t sealed, I took the liberty of having a peek.”

           Batman took the envelope from Gordon, pulling out the contents carefully. Inside he found five playing cards; two kings, two jokers and a 2 of spades. He inspected the cards closely, his mind already going off into full work mode to figure out their purpose. Nightwing stood to Batman’s right, eying the playing cards over his shoulder. He felt like a kid again, catching himself saying the first that came to mind, as if trying to impress the older man.

           “Joker?” Nightwing offered, causing the Batman to look at him as the he still pondered to himself.  

           Even though Nightwing hadn’t been in Gotham for a while but he still remembered how the Joker and a few of Gotham’s citizen’s gave him the title of the Clown Prince of Crime. It was pretty safe to assume with the whole two Joker card thing that it would belong to the clown, Nightwing thought. And since there was no prince card in a deck of cards, a king would suffice. It was obvious that the Joker had sent the envelope.

           “Joker’s locked up in Arkham.” Gordon said with a hint of malice, knowing that he deserved the chair but for whatever reason the justice system in Gotham wouldn’t let that day come.

           “So?” Robin cut in, with a roll of his eyes. He let out a disgruntled laugh, crossing his arms against him chest, a look of disbelief overlapped with amusement appearing on his face.  “That means jack in this city. What just happened with Zsasz?”

           “Robin.” Batman warned, his voice stern and sharp.

           He turned back to look at Nightwing after Robin gave him an apologetic look. He flipped the cards over, looking at the backside of them. The king’s had the same address written on them, same as the joker’s. Batman recognized the addresses of those belonging to two different banks.  Looking at his former protégé, he thought about his idea. It was a possibility. Joker did tend to make his stays at Arkham short in the past years.

           But simple bank robberies weren’t something he just did anymore. He’d always been unstable but the clown had seemed to be turning more volatile in his deeds in recent years. Bruce still shook when thinking about it, somewhat still in disbelief that the Joker could stoop so low. It took everything in him to not break his one rule; he’d never been that close in breaking it until that day. It’d been almost a year since then and it still haunted Bruce that he was unable to stop him. The Joker had blown up a middle school in the Narrows and it was all just for a punchline.

           “I’m just saying.” Robin raised his hands up in surrender, knocking Bruce out of his train of thought. He let a hand fall, there other than pointing to the cards Bruce held. “I don’t think it’s him.”

           “Oh yeah? And please share with the class who you think sent it then?” Nightwing quipped, rolling his own eyes now even though his masks whited out his eyes. He ignored the side glance his former mentor gave him, still looking at Robin, who apparently knew better than him.

           “I’d love to share actually,” Jason smirked, mimicking Nightwing’s stance. He didn’t like this guy one bit and didn’t appreciate how he was being talked down too. He deserved to be Robin just as much as he had. He was just as good as he was. “I think this looks like someone who we know has a thing for pairs. Not only are there two of the same type of cards, one’s literally a two. And I don’t know if you guys know anything about poker but it’s also a two-pair hand. It’s pretty obvious,”

           Dick widened his eyes, gapping to himself as Jason spoke, looking back at the cards. He saw Batman bring his hand to rest on his chin, cogs clicking and turning in his head. Nightwing bit his tongue as Batman gave Robin a ‘good work’ nod. It was pretty obvious and Nightwing hated it. He’d just been shown up by some kid. He wanted to smack the smug look right off Robin’s face as Batman told Gordon that he’d keep him updated.

           That had been their cue to head out, as Batman then put the cards in one of his utility belt pouches and reached for his grappling hook. Gordon watched as the batfamily turned to leave, grappling off into the city. Batman had landed them a few buildings away already dealing out a game plan. They’d split into two teams in order to stake out both addresses, unsure which one Two-Face would strike first. Dent had been laying low for the last couple of years and it was a little off putting that he’d want his comeback advertised to the Dark Knight before he could really pull it off.

           Dick had wished Halley was here for he started to tune Bruce out the moment he revealed that Nightwing and Robin would be paired up together. He wanted to protest, he wanted to insist that Robin belonged with Batman and Nightwing would handle himself for a night alone in Gotham. But he didn’t do any of that, instead just kept clenching his jaw tightly and grinding his teeth together as Batman turned his back to them and took off towards the direction of the bank he assigned himself too.

           Once they were alone, Nightwing looked at Robin who also had looked displeased with this arrangement. With a grunt, Nightwing leaped off the building, heading to the next rooftop, wanting to get this night over with.  When they eventually reached their location, they set up shop on the office building across the street from one of the Gotham National Bank’s branches in the Bowery. They staked out the area, looking for signs to Two-Face.

           Jason took it personally as they sat in complete silence. Halley had told him how talkative Grayson was and how doing missions with him was annoying sometimes, as the man just talked the entire time. Even with the couple of times they had hung out, like during the few times he’d come to visit and take Halley out for burgers, always giving Jason a pity invite, he noted how Dick Grayson just didn’t know how to stop talking.

           He huffed, leaning against an air conditioning unit atop the roof, pulling out his cell phone from its hiding place within his suit. He checked the time and huffed again, the boredom fully setting in now. He took his attention away from the bank again, now scrolling through his phone, debating which game to play. Deciding to play draw something, he clicked on the app. He lazily drew a lion and sent it to Halley, the only person he ever played with. He downloaded the app on her phone a while ago and occasionally the two would play during commercial breaks when they watched TV.

           He looked up from his phone as he waited for her to reply, checking to see if Dick caught him on his phone yet. He would never pull his phone out when he was with Bruce; hell, if Bruce knew he even brought his phone out on patrols he’d most likely be benched again but he just couldn’t stand here in silence with dickweed. He looked back down at his phone and away from the man he had been scorning when it vibrated. It wasn’t a notification for the game, instead, it was a text message from Halley.

           Aren’t you on patrol?

           Yea, he replied back, smirking as he continued to type. Bored and paired up with Dick. Who by the way is really living up to his name.

           He tapped his fingers against the back of his phone as he saw that she was typing. He stole another quick glance up, making sure he wasn’t caught yet. He wouldn’t put it past Dick to go ratting on him to Bruce if he did.

           Is everything okay?

           What’s he doing?        

           Where’s Bruce?

           I can talk to Dick for you…

           He rolled his eyes as she rapidly texted him back, knowing that she was probably in a frenzy on her bed wondering what happened between them. He quickly typed back, not wanting her to stress as he started to regret saying anything to her about it in the first place.  It’s cool, not a big deal. He’s just butthurt that I outsmarted him on a case we’re working on now.

            “B know you have that on you?” Jason should’ve known he’d be caught but something in him didn’t seem to care as Dick’s voice rang out. “You lose that thing or get captured and someone gets their hands on it, you’re screwed. That’s incredibly ire-,”

           “Irresponsible, yeah yeah,” Jason cut him off, waving him off with his hand before going back to read Halley’s response.  He clicked his phone off, sliding it into his hidden pocket after finishing reading over her text. It was nothing important, just telling him to stay off his phone. He rolled his eyes, pushing off the ac unit and walked towards the edge of the building where Dick stood.  

           “I get this part of the job can be boring, but you need to stay on your toes. You need to-,” Dick slacked his shoulders, over the kid’s attitude as he was cut off once again.

           “Yeah, yeah,” Jason snorted. “This isn’t my first rodeo, I’ve been doing this long enough.”

           “Clearly not.” Dick shot back, kicking the foot he had resting on the ledge to stand facing Jason face to face. He towered over the boy, having a good couple of inches on him. He peered down at him almost threateningly.

           “You made a good guess at the station, but you’re still sloppy. B’s told me about how you rush into things without thinking. You’re brash and dangerous. You’re going to get yourself hurt one of these day or worse; get someone else hurt.” Dick said, narrowing his eyes as he continued to lay it out onto the younger boy.

           Dick eyed the boy take in his words. He reacted how Dick expected, immaturely, by rolling his eyes and letting out an over exaggerated groan. Dick stood firm though, not knowing what either Halley or even Bruce saw in this kid. “You’re also disrespectful. If I talked to B the way I’ve heard you talk to him, I’d have my suit permanently taken away from me quicker than Flash can put his on. You still have a lot to learn kid.”

           “You know,” Jason started, scoffing and trying to bury Dick’s words deep. He didn’t want to show that Dick’s word’s had an impact on him but the former sidekick basically just laid out all of his insecurities right in front of him.  

           He knew Bruce wasn’t always pleased with him and his performance, but he thought he was getting better; Bruce told him in training today he was getting better.  Jason was still thrown off by the compliment and only slightly gushing over it, and he was sure as hell not going to let Nightwing bring him back down. Taking a step forward, trying to assert himself, Jason jabbed a finger into Dick’s chest continuing, “I didn’t know what you’re problem with me was until the police station and now.” Jason pulled his finger back, letting his hands fall to fists at his sides.  “You’re just jealous.”

           “You think I’m jealous?” Nightwing almost laughed, loosening his stance wanting to get comfortable as the boy nodded in confirmation.

           “No, I don’t think, I know you are.” Jason chuckled, knowing he could lay everything out just as neatly as Dick did for him. “You’re gone for months at a time; sure you come peek your head in every now and then to say hi but then you leave again. I think you realize you’re not needed here anymore and it eats you up inside.” Jason said with venom. “Gotham doesn’t need Nightwing and Batman doesn’t either. Batman and Gotham have me, Robin, not you. Hell, even Halley doesn’t need you anymore because she’s got me. You’re not needed anymore.”

           “You don’t know anything about me or her, or Bruce. You think you do, but you don’t.” Dick spat, feeling heat begin to rise in his cheeks. This kid didn’t know a goddamned thing.

           “Nah,” he smiled, taunting him now, feeling a nerve being struck in the older man as he mention Halley. “That’s where you’re wrong. You dumped her off here and have done the bare minimum to keep in contact with her. I’ve been there for her since you’ve left and it shows who she likes more and you can see that and it’s driving you crazy.”

           “Look kid,” Dick said, letting the anger get to him. He reached out grabbing Robin by the neckline of his suit, lifting him up off the ground as he pulled him closer, almost until their faces were inches apart.

           He was about to really drive it into him when the sound of tires squealing from below dragged his attention away. Still holding onto Robin, Nightwing craned his neck to look behind him and down to the street below. A van parked outside of the bank, the back door opening as a handful of guys filed out. The last one was their guy: Two-face. He jumped out of the back of the van as another pulled up next to him. He flipped his coin, Nightwing unsure as to why but assumed it wasn’t good as Two-face signaled for his now close to twenty guys to head to the doors of the bank.

           “Two-Face is at our location,” Nightwing let go of Robin, calling in Batman on his comms. He waited for Bruce to reply, preparing to grapple across to the bank.

           “Copy.” Batman’s voice cut through his ear piece. “I also have some of his men here. I’ll take care of them and head your way. Get Two-Face.”

           “Got it,” Nightwing replied, turning to face Robin to quickly try and make a plan of attack together but snarled when he saw the boy already swinging across to the next building.  This kid was going to get himself killed one day.

[thecosmicjackalope]

It’s probably not gonna happen but you know what would be amazing for next episode?

Kiteman leaves without saying anything to Harley or Ivy, who are then left comforting each other about the situation. Both feel like pieces of shit and both are confused about how to move on. Days pass. Weeks pass. As the city rebuilds itself, Kiteman is nowhere to be found and there’s a wall between Harley and Ivy. Everything between them is awkward now because Harley still wants to pursue Ivy but Ivy is riddled with guilt and is still confused about her feelings for Harley and for Kiteman. The crew suffers through the tension, moving between helping them get through their shit and trying to find Kiteman. Ivy wants to find him and so does Harley, but there is still an undercurrent of jealousy from Harley because Ivy’s focused on finding Kiteman and won’t even talk to her about the future and “what happens now.”

During all this, Gotham’s abuzz with gossip about what they have seen and everyone’s taking sides (like how we all are in the comments sections). There’s a good portion of the population that are hounding Harley and Ivy about their “new relationship”, some people are spitting on Harley and calling her a home wrecker (especially Kiteman’s parents, which would kind of be a nice little way to nod at the fact that despite being assholes they do still stand by him), Ivy has people who are talking about how glad they are that she’s dumped “that loser” which fills her with even more guilt, and everyone is laughing about Kiteman, with some wondering about where he is.

The scene shifts and we find Kiteman out of his costume, grounded, without his kite, blending in with everyone around him and succeeding because no one sans Ivy has seen him without his get up. He wanders from place to place, never really going anywhere, sometimes dropping by old spots where he and Ivy had some moments together. He’s not eating, he’s sleeping too much, living like he’s already dead. He walks by a wedding venue and sees the happy couple kiss and look into each other’s eyes lovingly.

He forces himself to look away.

Eventually he wanders into THE PIT or somewhere nearby, feeling low as dirt, lost, confused. He still hasn’t said a line since the episode started. He’s hanging out in the wreckage and the waste, he sees a kite, or perhaps a little harlequin doll, or something that reminds him of what he’s lost. And he snaps, and starts stomping on it and having a breakdown when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns to see that it’s Bane. Expecting Bane to attack him or do worse, Kiteman - or, “just Chuck” at this point - welcomes death. Bane refuses. In fact, he sits down with Kiteman and the camera and the audio pans and fades away respectively as they begin to have a long honest talk.

Back in the city of Gotham, Harley and Ivy have one big argument with a lot of their ugliest feelings bubbling up to the surface and bursting out. Very harsh words are exchanged. They separate, leaving behind the crew, lost, confused and hurt that three people they care about are suffering so much. Ivy goes to be alone in a place she loves, maybe an old greenhouse. Harley goes to a carnival or maybe some batting cages to practice her swing. Each of them respectively are confronted by different people who have something to say - Ivy is approached by Catwoman who “had a feeing she’d be at her usual spot” and Harley is confronted by Batgirl and Batman. They all talk.

Batman talks to Harley about relationships and responsibility and knowing what you want and listening to other people, going off of his own failed romances with Talia and Catwoman respectively, possibly even acknowledging a budding relationship with Wonder Woman or Superman (or both, as, in a hilarious twist, their incident with Ivy’s pheromones lead to them questioning their relationships with each other and trying to be a poly throuple). Batman closes the convo off with saying that Harley has to face the music for the people she’s hurt, but also says that he’ll be happy to see her with someone who treats her right and encourages her to listen to her heart. Harley admits that she feel like she doesn’t deserve love and Batgirl argues that yes she does. She thanks Harley for some of her good deeds, and especially for inspiring her to stand up for the person she loves (her dad) and be his hero, the hero that Gotham needed, while Batman was out. And she closes her end of the conversation by telling Harley that no matter what she chooses, she will stand by her decision. Harley smiles and hugs her, and humorously, Batman gets dragged into the hug and hates the whole experience.

In their own space, Catwoman and Ivy talk. Ivy vents to Catwoman about everything that’s gone down and all of her feelings and guilt and confusion about it, and for once, Catwoman listens, without fuss, without sarcasm, without a word at all. When Ivy admits that she thinks it’s over between them and that maybe it was doomed from the start, Catwoman talks about her romance with Batman, how she always expected it to be doomed, caused it to self destruct and how very deeply she regrets that she let him get away and didn’t try to actually fix the problems in their relationship. She admits that she’s lonely and that she lives her life alone and that she enjoys it, but that it doesn’t come without problems. It comes with regrets. It comes with emptiness. It comes with too heavy a price sometimes. And she encourages Ivy, in her own aloof, standoffish way, that if Ivy really feels like she has something special with Kiteman and Harley, she should pursue it. She should be honest with her feelings about both.

So Ivy and Harley run into each other, and they apologize and tell each other what they want. Harley wants Ivy, and also to take responsibility for how she did Kiteman dirty and wants to mend her friendship with him. Ivy admits she loves Harley and Kiteman both and wants to talk to them both to see if they can all pursue something together, namely, if Ivy is romantically with both, and if Kiteman and Harley are okay with that.

But first they have to apologize and take responsibility for what they’ve done.

At that moment, Kiteman enters the doorway. He’s wearing his uniform, he’s got his things. Ivy and Harley are relieved to see him, but somethings wrong. They can tell something is wrong. He walks past Harley like she’s not even there and he talks to Ivy and tells her that he’s leaving Gotham for another city, somewhere where he can start over, somewhere with lots of wind to soar majestically or something or other. Ivy asks him why and he finally finally lets out all his hurt feelings. Without yelling or raising his voice, he calls her out on all her bullshit, stating that if she had just respected and loved him enough to be honest, they could have worked through it. But she didn’t. And to him, that was unforgivable. He says something along the lines of “ive been a joke to everyone around me since the day I was born. But I thought, for once, I found someone who saw me for who and what I really was. A person. When I met you, I finally thought I found my match, my partner in crime who I could spend the rest of my life with, who would be with me no matter what. But I was wrong. In the end.... I was just a joke to you too.”

Ivy is hurt by this and tries to apologize but Kiteman says he’s made up his mind and he just came by for closure and to give her a proper goodbye. Harley tries to apologize, Kiteman ignores her but does tell the others he’s out of the crew and flies off.

He takes one last look behind him, but he doesn’t look at Ivy. He looks at Harley, not with hate, or anger, but bitter disappointment and betrayal. And it’s at this point that Harley truly realizes what she’s done.

Since You’ve Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson, aka Harley and Ivy’s trademark wedding song request, starts playing in the background as a sequence starts to play. Ivy and Harley drift apart. The rest of the crew - Frank, KS, Clayface and Sy - all struggle with the loss of Kiteman. If Harley was the brains of the group, Kiteman was the heart, and without him everything feels colder. Life in Gotham goes on. Villains fight heroes. People rebuild. College kids graduate, and Joker and his new girlfriend witness the kids perform at a school play, with all of his goons in the audience cheering them on. Bane continues helping others. Nora, Jennifer and Catwoman pay their respects to Dr Frieze and leave flowers on his grave before going out to dinner together as friends (and yes, they all have Cobb Squad tattoos on their arms). Riddler still does his riddles but has started teaching a class for cardio at a local gym and is deeply enjoying it. The only job Dr Psycho can get is running and operating a Ferris wheel ride at the local carnival, which, ironically, he’s good at and he actually kind of enjoys, if only because it’s easy money. He watches as a short little girl JUST misses the height test...and uses his powers to alter the sign so she can ride, just so she doesn’t know the crushing disappointment he felt when he was a kid. (Humorously, When she inevitably falls off the Ferris wheel later, he casually catches her with his powers and sets her back down on the ground without even looking up from the porn mag he’s browsing.) Batgirl and Gordon play videogames together until something comes onto the police radio, after which they race to the roof to meet Damien and Batman waiting for them in a jet. Damien shows a flicker of jealousy towards Barbara, but there’s clear implication that the two will form a strong sibling like bond. Batman smiles at Gordon and Gordon smiles at Batman.

Gotham rebuilds. Life goes on.

But in the very last scene, as the song comes to a close, the crew disbands, and Harley and Ivy separate, with heavy hearts and too much baggage between them for anything, even their friendship. King Shark goes back to the ocean, ready to throw himself into his loveless marriage. Clayface leaves for Hollywood, ever hopeful that maybe someday he can become a true thespian. Ivy takes Frank and Harley takes Sy. As Ivy and Frank look on with teary eyes, Harley gets into her car and drives off into the sunset, and leaves Gotham city limits while crying her heart out.

And that’s how the season ends.

[itawonka-creates]

Seabourne Burnouts: Part 10 - No Longer Adrift

Maribat! On Deck AU

Thank you @particularlygeeky and @imfreakingmagical for beta reading and @particularlygeeky for chapter name idea!

Start [Here] [Part 9] [Part 11]

Bruce was getting more and more frustrated as the days passed. The surveillance videos from the boat and from the jail didn’t give him anything to work with. He passed through each video, frame by frame, countless times. He watched as the pirates seemed to materialize out of nowhere, there was no other ship passing, they were in the middle of the ocean and were suddenly being invaded.

He rubbed his eyes, watching the oddly similar henchmen rampage through the halls. They didn’t even look to be looking for something like the gunman said, they were just going through the ship causing chaos. He slammed his fist on the table re-watching the pirates in the jail cells suddenly disappear without a trace, leaving behind two young boys. One was injured in his leg, shot. He slowed it down and watched as the camera seemed to glitch and show a purple-black screen before the camera came back into focus and everyone was gone.

Bruce was running through the list of known villains in his head. The gunman said joker was a part of this, didn’t he? He mumbled to himself, “Is Scarecrow a part of this?” He shook his head, “No. No. He messes with minds, not cameras.” He let out an exasperated sigh before sitting back down in his chair. He rubbed his temples and groaned, “None of my theories make any sense, all the villains are in Gotham. They wouldn’t come all the way to Europe to rob me. It would be easier just to raid the manor while it was empty.” He ran his fingers through his hair, “None of them are that stupid.” He thought for a moment before laughing to himself, “Okay, maybe Harley.”  

“So are you gonna keep talking to yourself in the dark or are you going to actually join us on this cruise?” He quickly turned to see Tim in the doorway.

Bruce allowed his eyes to adjust to the hallway lights and pinched his nose, “Tim, don’t do that.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

Bruce rolled his eyes and smirked, “Isn’t this conversation usually the other way around?”

“Bruce I’m serious. We haven’t seen you in days.” Tim narrowed his eyes, looking at the footage on the screen, “Oh, that’s what you’ve been up to.”

Bruce closed the footage and turned off the computer, “Barbara and I have been looking at this footage forwards, backwards, frame by frame.”

“And?”

Bruce looked disheartened and bitter, “Nothing. They just disappeared. No one saw anything, no residents ever reported anything, nothing. They vanished.” He shook his head, “Usually they leave a clue or lead or something I can work with. This time? Nothing. I’ve checked back in with Gotham and no one has heard anything about a job to overtake a ship. All the villains are accounted for too.”

Tim hummed, “But the one guy had Joker’s laughing gas.”

“I know.” Bruce stood up and stretched out his back until he heard a crack, “What day is it?”

“Bruce, seriously?” Bruce looked at Tim with a very serious expression and Tim rolled his eyes, “It’s Wednesday.”

Bruce’s eyes widened slightly, “I’ve been down here for over a week?”

“Apparently.” Tim went over to Bruce’s side and looked over his mentor, “I swear, Alfred would’ve never let this happen.” Tim straightened out some of his clothes and Bruce yawned, finally letting the exhaustion hit him. Tim sighed, “Have you been keeping up with everything?”

“I know about the Akuma attacks if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, I meant with your son.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at Tim and Tim just smirked, “Come on, you’ll want to see this.” Tim opened the door and motioned for Bruce to follow him, “Besides, you need to go back to your room. Seriously, you need to bathe.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and walked out into the hallway, letting Tim lead the way as they walked out of their little maze below deck up to the higher floors. Tim continued up until they were walking towards a balcony overlooking the main deck, Jason and Adrien already there. Jason turned back and grinned, “He’s alive! Who knew?”

Adrien turned around and smiled, “Nice to see you again, sir.”

“Bruce is fine, Adrien.”

Adrien smiled and nodded before turning his attention back over the balcony. Jason led Bruce over to the balcony and pointed at two figures standing closely together by the railings. “What am I looking at here?”

“That, my dear Bruce, is your blood son actually bonding with someone.” Jason grinned and did everything in his power to not burst out laughing at Bruce’s shocked expression. The bags under his eyes only made the look more exaggerated, making it even harder not to laugh.

“That’s not Damian.”

Adrien snickered, “It is and that there next to him is our little Marinette.” He sighed and leaned against the rails, “They’ve gotten very close.”

Tim let out a small ‘Ha!’ before turning back to Bruce, “We found out they do this practically every night after they’ve visited the captain and think everybody else has gone to sleep. They don’t do anything but talk, sometimes they lean on each other, but it’s still cute to see.”

“I’m more so surprised you three haven’t interrupted them.” Bruce turned to see Jason and Tim look slightly offended before the two shrugged and nodded, knowing damn well Bruce was right. “So why aren’t you guys crashing the party?”

“Because I won’t let them.” Bruce turned to see Alya, Nino, and Dick walking up the hallway. All of them were in pajamas and looked amused. “I refuse to let your sons ruin this for my best friend.” She nudged Dick forward, “Just caught this one trying to interrupt.”

“I just wanted to know what they were talking about!” Dick smiled nervously under Bruce’s tired glare before the old bat turned his attention back over the balcony. Dick relaxed and looked at the couple, “You know Damian is doing a lot better.”

“Is he now?”

“Alya, can you show him the photos?” Alya chuckled before handing Bruce her phone. Bruce scrolled through the feed before landing on a few photos. It was mainly of the group of classmates, but Damian was one of them. To a stranger, you’d think it was just a photo of friends. They all looked like they were having fun, even in the photos where some were squabbling with each other or where Damian looked like he was in the middle of scolding someone, and it looked natural. To Bruce, it was like looking at a different child altogether. He found a photo of the three boys holding bags from the day they first docked and smiled. “He looks so normal. It’s crazy, right?”

Bruce nodded and handed the phone back to Alya, “Make sure I get a copy of all those photos.”

Alya smirked, “Only if I get my interview, Bats?”

Bruce tense and Tim jumped in, “She thinks you’re Batman. Don’t humor her.”

Alya glared at Tim, “You’re just mad because I have way more leads than you do.”

Bruce blinked and turned to Tim, “Leads on what?”

Nino snickered, “He thinks Marinette is Ladybug.”

Bruce looked back at the girl next to Damian, “Is she?”

“She has to be. No one is that badass without some kind of history of crime-fighting.” Jason turned to Bruce and shrugged, “Plus, she took that night of the raid. She came up with a plan on the spot and, most importantly, bossed you around.” Jason watched as the gears in Bruce’s head begin to turn and smiled, “I’m telling you, she’s Ladybug.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, “Uh-huh. And I’m Carapace.”

“Who?”

“The turtle one.” Tim frowned and turned back to Alya, “Hey, where’s Chloe?”

“She said she needed to catch up on her beauty rest tonight.” Alya walked up to the railing of the balcony and pointed the phone at the couple below, “It’s fine. She’s not missing much.”

Bruce took a step back and looked over the group. He didn’t realize how close the Françoise Dupont kids have gotten with his own.  If he were to take a picture, nothing would seem out of place. The group looked so comfortable with each other. It was jarring, but not bad by any means.

Dick turned back to the group, “Alright. Enough spying. Let’s leave them be.”

“You’re just bored.”

“Yes, I am.” Dick began herding the group away from their vantage point and laughed, “It’s late. Let’s go.”

Bruce watched as the rest of the group groaned, but complied with the eldest. He hung back and walked next to Dick, “What have I missed?”

Dick chuckled, “You want to adopt five more kids?”

Jason shouted over his shoulder, “At least can we adopt Marinette?” The kids shook their heads and laughed and Bruce realized it was part of an inside joke.

Bruce looked surprised, “You’re all very close aren’t you?”

Nino turned back to Bruce and smiled, “Your kids are great company, my dude. Seriously.”

Adrien snorted, “You sound like a parent or something. ‘Oh, your kids are great!’” Adrien turned to Bruce and grinned, “He’s right though. This is the most fun any of us have had in who knows how long.”

Bruce frowned, “Really?”

Alya stretched and nodded, “Hardly any Akuma attacks, new friends, new theory, and I see my girl find romance? Best. Vacation. Ever.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “You’re theory doesn’t stand.”

“You’ve seen the evidence I gathered.”

“All substantial.”

“So is yours.”

Bruce watched in amusement at the two glared at each other, both determined to out investigate each other. It was rare Tim found someone to compete with, but he seemed to have fun. Alya reminded him of Tim when he first came into their lives; spunky, smart, stubborn, and fired up. “I’m Batman, huh?”

Alya nodded, “I’ll prove it. I know I can. Every bone in my body is telling me I’m right.”

Jason laughed, “You sure you aren’t constipated?”

Alya blushed and pushed Jason playfully, “No!”

The group laughed at the antics and Bruce turned to his oldest, “So what’s happening with those two? Any progress?”

“You mean Damian and Marinette? They’re inseparable.” Dick chuckled, “It’s actually kind of cute. They hang onto each other, but I don’t think they realize it. The way they bicker with each other is hilarious to watch, too. It’s like an old married couple.”

Alya laughed, “Plus, she’s the only one who can calm him down if he starts to get too annoyed.”

“It is getting harder for him to say no to her.” Adrien hummed in approval, “He gives Marinette a run for her money. He’ll randomly say things that just make her light up and embarrass her, it’s kind of great.”

Jason nodded, “Oh my god, what did he say yesterday?”

Nino thought for a moment, “Wasn’t it something like ‘I’m not leaving her’ or something?”

Tim laughed, “Oh yeah, the guide for the last city we visited wanted to separate them! He got so mad and wouldn’t leave her alone.”

Bruce couldn’t believe most of the stuff he was hearing, “This is Damian? My son Damian? Damian used to be al Ghul now Wayne, that Damian?” The group all nodded and Bruce scoffed, “She’s magic isn’t she?”

“If we’re right, she’s magic.” The group came to a split in the hallway and the group went their separate ways. The family waved goodnight to the classmates before walking through the halls towards their own rooms. Tim broke the silence, “So Bruce still can’t find anything on the videos.”

“Really? Did Barbara-“

“She looked through them, yes.” Bruce pinched his nose, “We can’t figure it out. How does a whole crew of raiders just disappear?”

Jason frowned, “All I know is if I find the bastard that threw Marinette overboard, I’m killing him.” Bruce sent a warning look to Jason and Jason didn’t even flinch, “What? I’m serious. He could’ve killed her.”

“So you think killing him is the answer?”

“It’s an answer, one I’m going to enjoy a lot.”

Bruce sighed and stopped walking, making the other three pause as well, “None of this is making sense. They disappeared, Akumas have popped up in a few of the cities we’ve visited, what is going on?”

“Have you tried letting Alya watch the video?” The group turned to Dick who only shrugged, “Out of everyone in Paris, we got the one person who knows all things Miraculous and Ladybug. If you think it might be an Akuma, she’ll be the one to confirm or deny your theory.”

Tim groaned, “Then she’ll actually know he’s Batman. The girl might’ve been naïve when it came to Lila, but she’s not dumb.”

“That reminds me, what happened with her? That Rossi girl?”

“Still a liar, but at least now Marinette has her friends on her side.”

Bruce did not miss the small scowl Dick sent Tim, “What happened?”

Tim flinched and Dick nudged him to talk, “I may have snapped at Alya and completely outted Lila to her.”

“That’s a bad thing?”

“It is when you yell at her and her friends to prove a point instead of just protecting your friends.” Dick sighed, “You still can’t figure out why you were so mad?”

Tim groaned, “No, I can’t. All of a sudden I got so pissed and then next thing I knew I was shoving my phone in her face. Everyone was yelling. And then the migraines-“

“Migraines?”

Jason nodded and frowned, “Migraines. I’m pretty sure everyone on the ship had them.”

“Everyone except Marinette, Adrien, Damian, and Lila.” Dick hummed, “I don’t get it.”

Jason snickered, “It’s the power of love. Damian is so head over heels for Marinette he wouldn’t notice if he was having a migraine anyways.” Jason sighed, “Adrien probably gets them all the time from the flashing cameras at his photoshoots. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just wasn’t bothered or didn’t even notice it.”

“And Lila?”

“She’s just a bitch.”

Bruce turned to scold him, “Jason!”

Tim and Dick shrugged, “True.”

Bruce was about to say something to his sons before noticing Dick’s shirt, “Where did you get that?”

Dick looked down and smiled, “Marinette made it for me.” He did a quick spin, “Red and black and Nightwing themed. It’s perfect.”

Bruce’s expression deadpanned, “You’re really walking around like that while a junior reporter is actively investigating our family?”

Dick shrugged, “She’s investigating you, not me.” The four stopped in front of Bruce’s room and Dick looked over Bruce one last time, “Get some sleep. Me and Tim can look over the video again tomorrow. You need to rest.”

Bruce’s shoulders fell, but nodded. He knew they were right. He went into his room, locking the door behind him, and headed for the shower first. All the while, the two teens at the center of attention continued to talk against their spot on the railings.

“So let me get this straight, Dick was part of a circus?”

“It makes sense why he acts like a clown now, doesn’t it?” Marinette snorted and lightly hit Damian’s arm. Damian chuckled, “Don’t act like I’m the only one with weird people in my life. You know two famous singers.”

“Jagged and Clara don’t count, they’re family now.”

“Mine are family too and I still make fun of them.”

Marinette smirked, “I noticed.” She sighed and looked over the water, “Where are we landing next?”

“Well, it seems we’ll be in Portugal soon. I suspect we’re visiting Lisbon next.”

She nodded, “You think there’s going to be another Akuma attack?”

“I hope not.” Damian sighed leaned against the rails, “Who do you want to investigate next?”

“I don’t know.” Marinette looked over at Damian and looked back at the past week. After the second Akuma in Pontevedra, they decided that Hawkmoth had to be on the ship. The only problem was he wasn’t talking to any of the Akumas. They couldn’t figure out what he was trying to pull, but Damian figured he couldn’t be losing all of these corrupted butterflies. It had to be coming from somewhere and considering it was only happening in the cities they visited, Hawkmoth had to be on the boat. “Have you noticed the mood recently?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone’s been on edge.”

“Makes sense, there are Akumas on the loose.”

“No, no, no. Like everyone is upset. I get being paranoid because of an Akuma, Paris is like that all the time, but this is different. It’s like everyone’s worst emotions are being amplified.” She sighed, “Alix and Kim went into a full-blown argument over something, Alya wants to kill Lila-”

“Still don’t know why you won’t let her have a go at Lila.”

Marinette frowned and nudged him before continuing, “Tim snapped at us, the staff gets frustrated easily. It wasn’t like this in the beginning.”

Damian sighed and thought it over, “Tension is rising and everyone is stuck on this boat. You can’t run from your problems here, you have to deal with them.”

A sudden breeze made Marinette shiver and she glared at the water, “Too cold!”

“You’re yelling at the sea.”

“I know.” She stuck her tongue out at the ocean and, as if to respond, another gust of wind nearly froze the poor girl.

Damian laughed, “You’re having an argument with water and loosing.” She glared at him, shaking from the cold, and he just rolled his eyes. “Come on. You want to go to the den?”

Marinette’s eyes lit up and she nodded before scurrying off inside the hall, away from the wind. Damian shook his head and followed her, close behind. Marinette looked over her shoulder and laughed, “Wanna race, baby bird?”

“Let’s do this Bug.” The two smirked and suddenly started running full speed up the stairs and through the halls. Damian looked over at the girl, he was impressed she could keep up with him, unbeknownst to him she was thinking the same thing. The two locked eyes and started laughing as they continued to sprint through the ship. He admitted to himself he felt odd. Doing things with this girl and her friends, talking together, doing things as mundane as racing for no reason, it made him feel some kind of way. Nothing bad, just unusual. He wondered if this was how a normal kid was supposed to feel like playing with their friends. He refused to say it out loud, but he considered them friends despite knowing them for such a short amount of time. 

Then there was Marinette. The nicknames started as a joke due to the theories being thrown around. Marinette decided if he kept calling her Ladybug then she should call him something. Without much thought, he told her to refer to him as Robin - Batman’s sidekick. He hoped she didn’t think too much of it and, unlike him, she didn’t pry the way he did if she was suspicious about something. Now, they had themed nicknames they’d say to each other in private, away from everyone in their own little world when they spent time together.

Marinette and Damian skid around a corner, but Marinette lost her footing and slammed into the wall. Damian came to a stop and ran back over to her. He helped her up and looked her over, “I’m fine.”

“Let me just check.” The two stood there, panting from the run, while Damian quickly examined her. “No bruises.”

“I’m telling you I’m fine. I’ve had worse falls than that.”

“Chloe’s right, you’re a walking accident waiting to happen.” Marinette pouted and Damian just smirked at her, leaning in, “What?”

She sighed, putting a finger on his nose and pushing him back, “You suck.” She felt an odd sense of deja vu after doing the gesture but didn’t pay any attention to it when she saw how his nose scrunched up. She giggled, “At least you’re cute.”

“I’m cute?” Now he was the one pouting, “I am not cute.”

She poked his nose, causing his nose to scrunch up again, “Cute.”

He shook his head, “You’re becoming worse than my brothers.”

“Yet you still want to hang out with me.”

“Yeah, because out of everyone you’re the least annoying.” She snorted and pushed him playfully, causing him to chuckle. “Come on, we’re close to the den.” She nodded and absent-mindedly grabbed his arm. He’s gotten used to her gestures, noticing very quickly she’s someone who likes to touch and be touched. He noticed that with everyone, with Alya they would link arms, same with Adrien and Nino. With Chloe they would at most hold hands as one dragged the other around stores and Marinette would hug Chloe when Chloe did something particularly good-natured. With his brothers, she’d give lots of hugs but never grab onto them. If she didn’t feel comfortable holding someone’s arm or hand, she’d unconsciously stand very close to them. 

He wondered if it was a way for her to keep them close, which to him made sense after the isolation she felt before the ship. Still, she didn’t do things like this with his brothers. She didn’t grab their arms or hold their hands or lean on them the way she did with him. He’d never admit it, but he liked being the only one she’d do this with.

She leaned on him and he smiled softly as they made their way to the den. Marinette loved the den. It was the one place on the ship where she could work out her feelings without issue. No one went up there except the captain and Damian. The captain turned into somewhat of a familial role, like a grandfather or an old uncle, and she trusted him. She worried for the man, she could tell his mood has also gotten worse, however, he wasn’t mad or frustrated. Captain Staller was just extremely sad and gloomy without the influence of the two teens. She wondered if he was depressed and if Anne’s anniversary was coming up, then this behavior would make sense. 

Then there was Damian. Damian became someone very close within the first few days of knowing each other. She knew there was something odd about him, even Adrien told her about his thoughts on the four brothers and their abilities, but he was honest. He allowed her to vent to him and helped her sort through her feelings and she would do the same for him. She sympathized with him, saddened by his past and lack of childhood at the hands of his mother. Bruce’s influence was clear to see, but she wanted to see him. Not the child molded to be the future head of the family, not the boy trying to live up to the legacy of his brothers or father, she wanted to know more about Damian. She could tell he wasn’t used to sharing or letting his walls down, making her feel special when he would around her.

They had a routine; change for bed, meet at the den, and then talk by the railings. They both knew they were being spied on half the time but were thankful for none of them interrupting their time together. Still, there was a small sense of uncertainty surrounding the two. While both wondered what their relationship was, neither wanted to ask and break the new bottle they found themselves in. It was safe, they were content, and they were together.

Damian pulled away from her side and opened the door for her. She walked in and noted how dark the room was, it made the moonlight seem that much brighter. She stopped Damian from turning on the lights and led him over to the big chairs that the two sank into. She laid down and placed her head on his lap, something they both just allowed to happen a few nights after the raid when her anxiety spiked. She was comforted by the company and he felt soothed by the warmth and the act of petting down her hair. The intimacy was something both lacked and this time together felt like they were making up for it. She sighed, “I think we should investigate Charles next.”

“Why him? I thought he was your friend.”

“He looked really out of sorts the next day and this week he’s just seemed out of it and paranoid. He would get jumpy if I accidentally snuck up on him.”

Damian hummed, “You think he’s Hawkmoth?”

“No, I just think he might know something. No one acts like that unless they’re hiding something.”

“Or hiding from someone.”

Marinette turned her head to look up at him, “You think he’s hiding from someone?”

“He could be, or maybe he’s worried about being akumatized.”

Marinette turned onto her back, looking up at him, “I don’t know. I don’t know how any of these people act. I’m grasping at straws at this point.”

Damian sighed, “Well, all of your classmates and Ms. Bustier have all been akumatized, so it can’t really be any of them. Unless we have another French passenger, we’ll have to look into everyone else.”

After a moment Marinette’s eyes widened and she suddenly sat up, almost knocking her head into Damian’s. “Another French passenger, of course!” She turned to Damian with a newfound spark, “Is there any way to get a list of the passengers? We’ll need a list of every French passenger outside the class.”

Damian smirked and sent out a text, “I’ll tell Drake to get that to me by tomorrow.”

“Tim?”

Damian sent out the text and locked his phone, “Drake is the best investigator out of the four of us. It could take us a bit to look through all the passengers, but he’ll take seconds and do a background check as well.” Damian let out a tired sigh, “Grayson’s the beloved oldest, Todd’s the strongest, Drake’s the smartest, and I’m-”

“You’re wonderful.” Marinette grabbed his head and turned it so she could look him in the eye, “Don’t compare yourself to your brothers.”

He rolled his eyes, “I was going to say I’m still the best out of the four.”

She relaxed and sighed, still not letting go of his face, “You really do have a superiority complex.” She squeezed his cheeks, earning a playful glare.

“You going to let go?”

“No.” She squeezed his cheeks one last time before letting go, “Okay now I’m good.”

Damian snorted, “You remind me of my best friend Jon.”

Marinette sat up straight with peaked curiosity, “You just called someone friend. Best friend. Tell me more!” Marinette shook his shoulders, “Come on, tell me!”

Damian moved her hands away, “I won’t until you calm down.”

She stopped bouncing in her seat and frowned, “Can you really blame me?”

“No.” He scrolled through his phone before finding an old photo of them when he was 13 and Jon was 11. He handed it over to Marinette and she smiled.

She sat back down next to him, leaning on him, before saying, “You guys are so cute. So he’s a childhood friend?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for some time now.”

“Is he older than you?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, “Just because he’s taller doesn’t mean he’s older. Everyone thinks that.” He looked back at the photo and pointed, “I’m 13 there and he’s 11.”

She giggled, “You look like a baby.”

“I did not.”

“Babyface.”

“Marinette-”

“Cute baby face.”

He huffed and poked her side, making her squeak and jump away. He took the opportunity to grab his phone, “No.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he smirked.

“You’re too cocky.” She looked between him and the phone before lunging for it. “I want to see more photos!”

Damian leaned back and held his phone away, “Never.”

Marinette huffed and struggled against him, “Come on! Let me see more babyface photos!”

“No!” He sounded angry, but his face held a big smile as he watched the girl try to figure out a way to get the phone. “This is actually very entertaining.”

“Shut up.” She blew the bangs out of her face and sat back down. “Come on! You’ve never mentioned your friends before.”

“I’ve mentioned my team.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never once said ‘friend’. This is exciting!”

“Me and you have very different definitions of exciting.” She frowned before lunging at the phone again and managed to knock Damian over, “Marinette!”

“Let me see more Jon photos, then I’ll get off.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at her before flipping them over. Marinette let out a small “oof” before looking up at a very smug Damian. “You were saying?”

She huffed, “Killjoy.”

Damian raised an eyebrow at her, “Really? Maybe I should get Lila in here. I was just assaulted.”

She glared at him before pushing him off, “Don’t even joke about that.”

Her serious tone made him frown, “Too soon?”

“It’s always too soon with her.” She frowned and rubbed her temples, “Should I just let Tim do it? Should he just out her to everyone in my class?”

“I would love that because I want to see her face when he does it, but considering there’s a chance Hawkmoth may be on the ship I wouldn’t want to have her become an Akuma.” Damian shoulders fell, “I really don’t want you being the target of that.”

She sent him a small smile, “I can handle her.”

“As Ladybug, maybe. As Marinette, no. I’m not risking that.”

“Be careful, you sound worried.”

“I am worried.” Marinette turned to him and found that he was staring at her, “I don’t want you getting hurt. Especially not while we’re on this trip.”

“And after it’s over?” He didn’t answer and she sighed, “Damian-”

“I know.” He turned to her and he looked her over, trying to figure out their next steps. “First let’s figure out what’s happening on the ship.”

Her shoulders fell and nodded, “Yeah.” She scooted closer to him and leaned on him, “Damian?”

“Yeah?”

She bit her lip before finally asking, “Are you actually Robin?”

He thought for a moment before finally closing his eyes and breathing out a soft, “Yeah.”

She hummed, “Makes sense.” She turned to face him, “You’re right. I know you know, but I thought I should say it.”

Damian snorted, “Thanks. Good to know.” He took a deep breath before shaking his head, “No. Actually, that’s not good. Nothing about your situation is ‘good’.” Marinette nodded and nuzzled into his neck, “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Find Hawkmoth, keep the city safe, fix everything.”

“It shouldn’t be your job to clean up the mess he makes.”

“What about you?” She frowned, “You don’t even have powers. You’re just human.”

“You’re human.”

“With magical powers, not the same.” She linked her arm with his and gave his bicep a comforting squeeze, “You shouldn’t be out there.”

“It’s not the same. I choose to go and fight, you were randomly given magic earrings and had to fight.”

She paused for a moment before admitting, “I almost wasn’t Ladybug.” Damian turned his head slightly in her direction and she took it as a sign to continue. “Stone Heart was the first Akuma we ever faced. He caused a lot of mayhem and I thought it was my fault for not stopping him the first time.” She let out a small bittersweet laugh, “I put the earrings in Alya’s bag.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Alya got hurt and Cat Noir was in trouble. I couldn’t stand there and do nothing. I had to help.” She sighed, “In a way, I chose it too.”

“That’s not fair. You have a good heart, of course you were going to save them, but to just put that responsibility on a kid?”

“What about you?”

Damian smiled bitterly as he thought back to when his mother dropped him off with a father who didn’t know he existed, “When my mother left me I was full of rage over those who killed my grandfather. I wanted revenge and nothing was going to stop me. Batman took me in after Nightwing stopped me from almost killing a man who had a connection to the murderer. I told him I wanted to help like Nightwing used to, as the new Robin, and he agreed.”

Marinette listened before pulling away, “You almost killed someone?”

Damian realized his slip and tensed before turning away from her, “Like I said, there’s a lot of stuff about me you won’t want to know.” He looked down at his lap and scowled, “I’m not a good person. I did a lot of bad things, even as Robin I’ve done really bad things.”

He didn’t want to look up, he figured she would run away like a sane person. He figured she wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore. “I didn’t know you before, but I can tell you’re a good person. Even if you did some bad things in the past, what matters is that you learn from them and be a better person now.” He wasn’t expecting that. She put her hand on his cheek and turned his head to her, “I think you’re a good person, Damian.” Damian didn’t respond outwardly until Marinette wrapped her arms around him. Her hug snapped him out of the initial shock and he wrapped his arms around her. This was only the second time they’ve hugged, the first time being when she first had a panic attack below deck, and he was grateful for it. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, “What’s going to happen now?”

Damian gave her a small squeeze, “I don’t know.”

He felt her hot breath against his skin as she let out a soft laugh, “I don’t know either.” She moved herself to be sitting in his lap, not releasing the hug. “I’m scared. What if the reason Hawkmoth is on this ship is that he knows Ladybug is on it? What if figured me out?”

“We don’t know that. We don’t know he’s on this ship.”

She rubbed her cheek against the fabric of his shirt, “Damian, these Akumas are coming from somewhere. They don’t wander this far out.”

“Are you sure? Has it ever happened before?”

“It has. The first time we brought Pegasus into the mix was because an Akuma made its way onto the train we were on. We were definitely outside of Hawkmoth’s range by that point.”

“Okay, so the option that he’s letting them wander isn’t impossible.” He knew it was farfetched, but he didn’t want her to think her identity was compromised. He didn’t want to think about a terrorist following her around and attacking her for some earrings, magic or otherwise. He could tell she was getting stuck inside her own head, upsetting thoughts taking over, and pulled out his phone. “You want to see more pictures of me and Jon.”

She quickly turned and looked at the phone, “Seriously?”

He chuckled, “Yeah.” She turned, back resting against his chest as he leaned back and they looked through the photos together. He pointed out different places they’d been, different pranks they’ve pulled on each other, their different pets, all the while making fun of his best friend. “He has this southern drawl sometimes and it’s so annoying.”

“He sounds fun.”

“He can be, but I’ll never tell him that. It’ll go to his head.”

She held his phone and made a confused face, “I’ll never get these fancy new phones.”

“You sound like a grandma.”

“Makes sense if everyone keeps calling us an old married couple.” She laughed, “You sound like an old angry grandpa.”

“I do not.”

“You are totally the type to yell at kids to get off your lawn.”

“I’ll take away the phone.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” She tapped on the screen and grumbled, “What the heck?”

Damian reached for the phone, “Hey, I can just-” All of a sudden the phone screen lit up, indicating a call had been placed and before either could do anything, a boy with messy hair and a tired look answered.

The boy yawned and rubbed his eyes, “Damian it’s like 6:30 am and its summer. There better be a goo-” The boy stopped talking and his eyes locked onto Marinette, who was still sitting on top of Damian, and he narrowed his eyes. “Damian, who’s this?”

Marinette awkwardly waved and Damian snatched the phone away, “Kent, if you tell anyone I’ll-”

“Oh my god.” Jon’s smile grew, “It’s late, it’s dark, and you’re with a girl! DAMIAN YOU ACTUALLY FOUND A GIRLFRIEND?”

Damian groaned and glared at the boy in the phone, “Say it louder why don’t you! You’ll wake up the entire city!” Damian was silently praying to whatever god he didn’t wake anyone. Jon decided to stay with the Titans while Damian was on the ship and Damian was grateful, but now he just wanted to wring the boy’s neck. “Now please don’t-”

Jon was already up and running through the tower, “Hold on! I’m hooking you up to the big screen!”

Damian sat up, nearly throwing Marinette off by accident, “You wouldn’t dare.” Suddenly the point of view changed from him looking at a phone to him looking up while a large living room came into view. Jon ran away, undoubtedly waking the others, “I’m hanging up.”

“Wait no! I wanna meet your friends!” Damian gave Marinette a pained look before giving in.

“Fine, but get up for a second so I can turn on the lights.” She quickly moved off and noticed a few people coming into view, “Oh! Hi!” The lights turned on, making her flinch as her eyes adjusted, and she smiled sheepishly at the other kids. “Damian’s told me about you guys. I wanted to meet his friends.”

She realized these kids weren’t normal, but then again neither was her. She figured they were probably other heroes and realized she was meeting his ‘team’. Damian sat back down on the couch and without thinking she took her place back on his lap to make sure they were both in the shot. Everyone looked stunned before the green one finally spoke up, “No way. Deep fake.”

Marinette tilted her head, confused, before turning to Damian, “Deep fake?”

“He doesn’t think you’re real.” He gently took the phone out of her hands, “Hey, Beast Boy, please tell me you haven’t made too much of a mess.”

“He said please, completely fake.”

Soon a woman with fire red hair entered the room, “What’s going on?” She looked up at the screen, “Oh! Damian?”

“That’s Kory, by the way.”

Marinette’s eyes lit up and she turned her attention to Kory, “Dick’s told me so much about you! You’re even prettier than I imagined!”

Kory looked confused but flattered. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Jon smirked, “This is Damian’s girlfriend.”

The room stood still for a few seconds before everyone went up in arms. Damian groaned and pinched his nose before shouting, “Enough!” The team stopped and Damian gestured to the girl, “This is Marinette.”

Jaime narrowed his eyes at her, “I don’t trust this. Why the hell is she with you?”

Marinette made a face, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Raven shook her head, “She’s real, but I have to admit I was not expecting this.”

“No way! What the hell? You leave for like two weeks and when you finally decide to call you have a cute girl with you!” Garfield narrowed his eyes, “Why are you both in your pajamas?”

“Because it’s 12:30 am around here.”

Jon wiggled his eyebrows, “Why are you alone with a girl late at night? In a dark room no less.”

Marinette lit up bright red while Damian groaned, “I didn’t mean to call, idiot. I was showing her some old photos-”

“You keep photos of me? Aw, Damian, I knew you cared!”

Damian growled and felt his blood pressure spike, “Jon I swear-”

Marinette grabbed the phone back, “Hey what are your names? I know you’re Kory and you’re Jon, but what about the rest of you?”

“Jaime.”

“Raven.”

“Garfield.”

“Victor.” The team turned and Marinette watched a half robot half-human came into view, “I was wondering what the commotion was about.” Marinette didn’t react, but her eyes were trained on Victor. He rubbed the back of his neck, “If it’s too jarring-”

“You’re incredible! How does that even work? How do you function? Can you still eat? What do you do in the rain? Can you even be in the rain?” Marinette’s eyes lit up as she quickly rambled on more and more questions. Victor felt a wave of relief and chuckled when Damian grabbed the phone away from her. “Hey!”

“Sorry, she gets excited easily.”

Marinette pouted, “Come on, he’s half robot! How am I not supposed to be excited for that?!”

Jamie laughed, “She’s not what I expected you’d go for, but it works.”

“I know right!” Jon turned his attention back to Damian, “I’m assuming she knows-”

“She knows.”

“You actually told someone!” Garfield pinched himself, “Nope not a dream. Just really, really weird morning.”

Damian sighed and Marinette snorted, “Your friends are funny.”

Damian looked over at her and smiled, tired but happy to see her so excited. “Oh my god, he feels.”

“Why does everyone say that!?” Damian glared at Jon, “When I get back I’m going to-”

“So you are coming back! Marvelous!” Kory flew up to the camera and smiled, “We were worried there for a bit. You never contacted any of us after you left. We were starting to wonder if you left us.”

Damian’s lips pressed into a fine line, but before he could answer Marinette asked, “Is he a good hero?” Everyone looked surprised by the question and she shrugged, “I don’t know a lot about America’s heroes and if I asked him, he’d just inflate his own ego.”

“I would not!”

Her face deadpanned, “Yes you would.”

“I am the best Robin there is.”

“You literally just said your brothers-”

“I refuse to let that comment leave this room.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re impossible.”

“You’re too excitable.”

“Rather be excitable than grumpy all the time.”

“I am not grumpy!”

“A-hem!” The two turned their attention back to the phone and noticed everyone watching them with an expression that was a mix of amusement and disbelief. Jon chuckled, “I’ve never seen anyone else argue with him. I’m the only one who can usually get away with doing that.”

Damian frowned, “Only because I can’t wring your neck when you get too annoying.”

“What’s stopping you from wringing her’s?” When Damian didn’t answer him, Jon’s smug smile only grew. “I’m telling my mom.”

“You are not telling Lois! It’s bad enough all of you met her!”

“Lois? Didn’t Tim mention her once?”

Damian nodded, “Yeah, but I’m surprised you remember that. You were knocked out in the arcade machine.”

“Not my fault none of you know how to whisper.”

Jon chuckled and turned to the team, “I can’t believe this. He actually found a girlfriend.”

Kory clapped her hands together, “We should celebrate when he gets back!”

“No! No celebration! She’s never going to the tower!”

“Why not?”

Damian turned to Marinette, “Because you’ll be back in Paris and I’ll be in Jump City.”

Marinette blinked and sighed, “Oh yeah, right.”

“Great now you upset her!” Jamie stepped up, “Hey, sweetheart, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on-”

“Don’t even think about it, Reyes.”

Raven sighed, “You’re all idiots.” Everyone turned to the girl who rolled her eyes, “Yes, this is exciting. Still, what if someone notices a normal girl coming into the tower and hanging out with us? With Robin? You all realize she’d be a target in a heartbeat.” The room fell silent and Marinette turned to Damian, only to notice his expression hardened. “Either we go to her as discreetly as possible or it’s not going to happen at all.” Raven turned her attention to the couple on screen, “If I were you Marinette I wouldn’t get too attached. You guys make a good match, but you just knowing our real names is going to get you into serious trouble if we aren’t careful. You don’t want to be sucked into this.”

Garfield frowned, “Raven, harsh.” He turned his attention to the screen and noticed the two thinking about what she said.

Jon tried to sound reassuring, “Hey! We can figure it out! I mean, I can tell you’ve been good for Damian.” That brought Marinette’s attention back to the boy and he smiled, “Yeah. When he left he was like a walking shell. Just talking to him now, I can tell he’s back to his old self and looks like he’s thriving over there. I can only guess it’s because of you.” Damian turned his attention back to his best friend and Jon sighed, “Look, Raven’s right. It could be dangerous, but it’s not unheard of! I mean, look at my parents! One’s a civilian!” He smiled encouragingly at the couple, “Damian, she’s good for you. I can tell. Marinette?”

She blinked and forced herself to respond, “Yes?”

“Do you want to stay with our little hot head over there? I know he’s a handful, but he’s worth it!”

Before Damian could say anything Marinette let out a firm, “Yes.”

Jon smiled, “Then I think you’ll be okay. If anything comes up, we’ll figure it out. We’re friends now too.” The group nodded and he waved, “You guys will be fine. Anyway, it’s getting late for you guys over there. Sleep. Think about it. Damian, check-in more often. We worry.” Damian gave a small nod, still reeling over the girl’s answer, and Jon nodded back. “Goodnight you guys.” The screen went black after Jon hung up and the two sat there in silence for a bit.

Damian spoke up first, “You meant that?”

Marinette gulped and nodded, “Yes.”

Damian thought for a moment and forced himself to ask, “Marinette, what are we?”

Marinette turned to face him, opening and closing her mouth, and answer struggling to come out before the door burst open. The two jumped and Marinette quickly left Damian’s lap as the two turned to the door. The captain stumbled in, seemingly unaware of the two teens inside the room. He stumbled to the bar and nearly fell over. The two teens shared a look of concern before walking up to him, “Captain Staller?” The captain didn’t respond and she turned him slowly to face her. She noted his glassy eyes and calm expression, “He sleepwalks?”

“I guess so.” Damian started to lead Captain Staller away from the bar and gently laid him down on the couch. The captain seemed to relax and fell right back to sleep on the cushions. Damian relaxed knowing that the captain was safe and asleep, “I think he’ll be okay now.” He turned back to Marinette who was staring at one of the bottles on the shelves, hugging herself and biting her lip. “Marinette?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to him, “What are we going to do?”

Damian’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m a liability. You’re a liability. We’re liabilities to each other.” She shook her head, “I can’t go to Jump City because I could be used as leverage. You can’t come to Paris because you know who I am and if Hawkmoth akumatizes you we’ll have to fight.” Her nose turned pink and her eyes watered, “I didn’t even think about that, Damian. I have to think about these things. What was I thinking?” She ran her finger through her hair and started pacing, “I can’t believe I told you. I can’t believe I said that. I can’t believe I thought-”

“Thought what?”

She stopped and turned to him, “Damian, how would this work?”

Damian knew she knew he was worried about the same thing. He also knew she knew he didn’t want whatever this was to stop. “We don’t see each other as heroes. Just civilians.”

“That won’t matter if you get akumatized!” She sniffed and let out a shaky breath, “And you’re Damian Wayne! That alone is going to bring attention to me! Damian, I can’t let that happen! My advantage is that I’m a nobody! I can sneak away and no one suspects a thing! I can’t do that if there are cameramen waiting outside the bakery every day, waiting to get a picture of Damian Wayne’s girlfriend!”

Damian gulped, he agreed with her. He really wished he didn’t. So instead of arguing with some solid logic, he decided to do the next best thing. “My girlfriend, huh?”

She tensed up and shook her head, “I’m sorry, it slipped out and-”

“I thought we were already married.” She froze for a second, watching as he awkwardly stood there waiting for a reaction. She laughed, it started out small and full of disbelief and grew into a heartfelt laugh. Damian relaxed as she wiped her eyes, still laughing at his joke. “Marinette-”

“How is this going to work?” She sniffed and let out a small laugh, tears streaming down her face despite the smile on her face, “How will any of this work?”

Damian shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair, chuckling. “I don’t know.” He leaned against a table and felt himself be bombarded by the same emotions overwhelming Marinette. He sniffed and laughed, “I have no idea!” He wiped his nose on his sleeve and laughed more, “What is happening?”

“I don’t know!” She wiped her cheeks in vain and her body shook with another fit of laughter, “I don’t know!” She turned to Damian and ran to hug him, he immediately reciprocated this time and squeezed her. He picked her up and spun her around, making her laugh even more, before putting her down in the middle of the room. She sniffed, looking up at Damian, “Are we going crazy?”

“I have no idea.” Damian snorted, “I have no clue. This is out of my range of knowledge. None of this makes sense to me. You don’t make any sense to me!” He let out a shaky breath, “Every time I’m with you I feel out of character. I don’t know what I’m saying or doing half the time. It’s all impulse with you.” He sniffed and chuckled, “What the hell is wrong with us?”

Marinette thought for a moment, letting out a shaky breath of her own, “We’re teenagers, I don’t think we’re supposed to have all the answers.” She giggled, “Which is ironic because Ladybug is supposed to have all the answers.”

“And I’m supposed to know what to do in any situation. My training equipped me with the knowledge on how to deal with enemies of all kinds, superhuman or otherwise.” He laughed. “My training didn’t prepare me for you. I am an expert in martial arts, I can wield almost any kind of weapon, I’m a capable businessman, I have advanced engineering skills, I’m trained in forensics, acrobatics, criminology, disguise and escapology,” he paused and scoffed, “none of it prepared me for you.”

Marinette and Damian stood together, in the middle of the den, panting as they struggled to catch their breath from laughing, and just stared at each other. Marinette bit her lip, “I don’t know a lot about you.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Will I ever know more about you?”

“Yes.”

Marinette sniffed and smiled at him before pulling him down. The kiss was awkward, neither really had any experience in any of this, but neither pulled away either. Despite the lack of skill, the two felt alive again. Every little cell felt electrified, any negative feels clouding their minds didn’t matter, and the world around them faded away the longer they stayed together.

“Well, I was wondering when you two would figure it out.” The two pulled away and looked at the couch to find Captain Staller stretching on the couch. He chuckled and scratched his beard, “Now, will either of you tell me why I’m here?”

Marinette hid her blushing face in her hands and Damian sighed before pulling away to help the man up, “You were sleep walking. You came in here and almost knocked over the alcohol at the bar.”

Staller looked confused, “I don’t sleepwalk.”

Damian shrugged, “Are you stressed?”

The captain thought for a moment before sighing, “My mood has taken a turn for the worse.”

Marinette turned to face the captain, worried expression on her face, “Anything we can do to help? We’re good listeners.”

Captain Staller smiled and shook his head, “No, you just continue to be yourself. I enjoy our visits. Although, I do think you would’ve fared better had I not interrupted tonight.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and her face flushed. Damian just rubbed the back of his neck before leading the captain outside. “Hey, you sure there isn’t anything my family could do?”

“Damian, you’re family has been nothing but good to me. If I ask for anything else, I’d be getting selfish.” The captain placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder, “You two were meant to cross paths, I can tell.” His voice got low as he held steady eye contact with the boy, “Don’t mess this up.”

Damian gulped and nodded, “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good answer.” He patted Damian on the back and nodded at the couple in approval. “I’ll see you two soon. Goodnight.” The captain walked away and Damian closed the door, leaving the only two people in the room embarrassed.

Damian watched as Marinette grabbed a pillow and screamed into it before letting herself fall onto the couch. He walked over, confused, and she took the pillow off her face. She looked like she drank three cups of Tim’s expresso, vibrating with energy. “This is happening.”

“Yes.”

“We just kissed.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We know each other’s identities.”

“Marinette-”

“I’m dating Damian Wayne.” She sat up and threw the pillow at him, “Oh my god, I’m dating you. We’re dating. This is happening!” Damian caught the pillow easily and laughed at her, earning a short raspberry and a glare.

He sat down next to her, “Yes. Yes, it is.” He sighed and shook his head, “What the hell am I thinking?”

“You? What am I thinking? Tikki is going to be so mad-”

“Tikki?”

She bit her lip before sighing, “Tikki come out.” All of a sudden, a red blob flew around the room before stopping in front of his face. He blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating for a second as the being examined him. “Tikki, meet Damian. Damian, meet Tikki.”

“Hello?”

Tikki smiled softly at the boy before turning to Marinette, “This is against a lot of rules Marinette.”

She groaned, “I know.” She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, “I trust him though.”

Tikki nodded before falling to rest on top of Marinette’s head. Damian just chuckled, “Honestly, not the weirdest thing I’ve ever come across.”

Marinette snorted, “That’s a new reaction.”

“I’m serious.” Damian smiled at Tikki, “When you live in Gotham and work under Batman you see a lot of stuff.”

Tikki flew around Damian’s head a few times before landing on his hair and nodding, “I approve of this one.”

Damian smiled, “That’s good right?”

Marinette closed her eyes and giggled, “Yes, yes it is.” She rubbed her eyes, “I’ve only known you for a little over a week and look at us.” She shook her head, “We’re crazy.”

“I mean we’re talking while a small red fairy thing watches over us. I’m pretty sure if we went to any hospital they’d say the same.”

Tikki giggled, “I like him.”

“I’m assuming you’re the reason Marinette orders so many sweets?”

“Smart too.” Tikki grinned at her chosen, “He’s a keeper.”

Marinette nodded, “I mean I’ll have to figure out a way erase your memory if I don’t.”

Damian raised an eyebrow at her, “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” She nudged him and the two sighed, “Marinette?”

“Yeah?”

“How are we going to tell my brothers?”

Marinette’s eyes widened, “How are we going to tell Alya?” The two looked at each other, realizing the chaos they were about to unleash on this ship when they go public. Marinette groaned, “We’re going not going to live any of this down will we?”

“No, I don’t think so. Dick is a crazy romantic, Jason will tell everyone else in the family if Jon already hadn’t, and Tim will work with Alya to spread the news all over the internet.” He groaned and leaned back in the couch, let his head lull back, “Can we not tell them?”

“And risk death by reporter? No thank you. If Alya doesn’t kill me for hiding it, Chloe definitely will.” She giggled before leaning on him, head on his shoulder and arm draped around his torso. “But we don’t have to tell them right now.”

He wrapped his arm around her and relaxed, “No, I guess not.” He looked down at the girl who finally relaxed enough that she actually looked tired, “Hey you want to go to bed?”

“No.”

“Still a bad liar.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to sleep, I said I don’t want to go to bed.” She looked up at him, “I don’t want to leave.”

Damian groaned, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Puppy dog eyes. You’re the only person to successfully use that against me.” He groaned and hung his head before he looked around the room. “Hold on.” He got up, turned off the lights, grabbed a blanket from one of the cupboards from a counter and draped it over her. He sat back down, arms open for her to lay next to him if she chose, and he glared. “Damn you.” She snorted and snuggled up next to him, his arms wrapped around her torso and her head on his chest. He could feel himself relax with her weight and body heat against him. She threw the covers over him before yawning.

Tikki watched as the two teens fell asleep together on the couch. She giggled softly before nestling on a pillow nearby, out of view from anyone walking in the door. She looked at the couple one last time before closing her eyes and smiling. Marinette was healing, as far as she could tell so was Damian, and she couldn’t be happier.

*******************************************************************************************

I’m waiting for the screams of the maribat community because it happened. It’s happening. And from here on out? Brace yourselves. 

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[babbushka]

Two’s Company (2/5)

1989 and New York City is a mess. Life was shit for all but you and Pale, who found that among the rubble and rubbish, there existed peace and calm and hard hot fucking. That is, until, an unwanted visitor makes themselves known, throwing this happy dream into a tumultuous nightmare.

Chapter 2 of my sequel to Blue Moon!

Previous Chapter

(Word count: 9.2k Warnings: N*SFW, drug mention/use)

                                                —————————

It smelled like shit, he thought with a frown. It smelled like stale beer and  cigarettes, not that he wasn’t adding to that mix, but still. 

Pale was annoyed, tappin’ his fuckin’ foot as he held onto the handrail on the subway as he waited and waited for it to arrive at his stop. He had no problem getting to Grand Central, but for whatever fuckin’ reason there was traffic or something because the short ride from there to the Lincoln Center was takin’ ages.

The subway was packed, because of course it was, nine-thirty rush hour. He had half a mind to stop off somewhere and just walk the rest of the fuckin’ way, but he didn’t want his face to catch frostbite or nothin’.

He was mindin’ his own business, lookin’ around the place when he saw something familiar, a little scribble on the wall, just next to the window he was leanin’ against. He could barely make it out amidst all the other graffiti on the train, but he recognized your handwriting anywhere.

There it was, a little faded maybe, a little worn away, but there it was: a heart with the two of your initials written in black sharpie.

It was partially covered up by another person’s vandalism, and that irritated Pale, ticked him off. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small metallic silver paint marker.

“’Scuze me a sec,” He shuffled through the crowd to the window, pushed his way past people who were all crammed in like sardines, no one really payin’ him much attention.

As carefully as he could, he traced your little heart, traced the V.S.O.P and the (Y/Initials), put the cap back on it.

An old woman sitting down smiled up at him, and he gave her a nod back, content to just hold onto the fuckin’ handrail and think about all the bullshit he’s gotta deal with later, with the orchestra, with the restaurant, all the while trying his very best not to get jostled around. He was aware of how big a guy he was, didn’t want to go toppling over onto nobody.

“You know,” The old woman said, accent thick and Greek, capturing his attention once more, making him turn his gaze towards her, “They say dating’s impossible in New York City.”

He shrugged, smoked his cigarette.

“They ain’t wrong.” He said, thinking about all the bullshit that had happened when he first stepped foot into the city, all that time ago.

In a loft in Manhattan, with a dancer and her ghosts. That hadn’t worked out, not for maybe a month, but he found he didn’t mind all too much. He was bitter about it, but then again Pale was bitter about a lot of shit.

“What’d you call that then?” The old woman asked, gesturing to the drying paint on the wall, the small declaration he had only just reinforced.

He looked down at his boots, at the shiny leather you had cleaned up with your tongue, thought about the way his heart got all fuckin’ flippy and fluttery whenever he saw you smile real wide for him, beam up at him.

“Love,” He said, as the subway came to a rolling stop, as the doors hissed open and he flicked his cigarette onto the tracks below, “That’s love.”

 It was a feat of architecture, that was for fuckin’ sure, Pale thought whenever he walked up to the Lincoln Center. In another life, if he hadn’t gone the artsy route, he thinks he woulda liked being an architect. Being someone who plans shit, builds shit.

Nah, then again, he thinks, he didn’t like math too much, heard there was a lot of fuckin’ math in architecture. Knowing his luck, he’d be doing some calculations that would have the fuckin thing toppling over. With his luck, he’d be stuck doing construction that lasted for ten years just to siphon bond money away from the city. With his luck, he’d be sued for something, he just knew it. Better leave that to the architects then, he thought.

But still, there was no fuckin’ doubting that the building was gorgeous, even Pale could appreciate that. A strong rectangular building with huge swooping arches carved into the front of it, something grand and imposing, something worthy of the art of performance.

He liked the way it was all lit up at night, but during the daytime it was okay too.

He walked around the fountain, huge white foaming frothing water that Pale always had half a mind to jump right into, walked through the pigeons who didn’t give a shit, kicked a can along the way as he went up the couple steps.

He’d like to take you here again, he thought, as he opened the heavy door and hit boots clacked against the shined polished floors. He’d like to get you all gussied up, have you on his arm as he walks in with a penguin suit on and his hair combed back, like he’s playin’ some fucking game, playing pretend.

It never felt like pretend when he was with you.

He chain smoked his way through the hall, passing the huge glass windows of the lobby of Alice Tully, where he knew his orchestra was waiting for him.

Sure e-fuckin-nough, when he opened the door to the actual concert hall, there was a great sigh of relief, some kid named Nicky who had been assigned as Pale’s assistant running right up to him.

“Pale! We thought you’d been hit by a taxi or some shit.” The kid said, all huffin’ and puffin’ and holding a clipboard on it like he was some official big shot and not just some college kid on an unpaid internship.

Pale stubbed out the cigarette and cracked the joints in his neck, in his hands.

“Yeah yeah, I know, I’m sorry, it ain’t gonna happen again.” HE gave a half-hearted apology, checking his watch, holding it up to his face to see the time. The fuckin’ thing was smudged, fogged up from how warm it was inside in comparison to the cold of November morning. “How late am I?”

“Fifteen minutes, the orchestra’s been waitin’ for you, they’re all warmed up already.” Nicky said straight away, like he had been counting. Who knows, maybe he had.

“Shit, alright alright well I’m fuckin’ here now, okay?” Pale said, running a hand through his hair as he descended the steps of the theater, made his way up to the stage. “Nobody died or nothing.”

Nicky chuckled at that, before he stopped Pale abruptly.

“A call came in for you, some woman.” Nicky said suddenly, like he had just remembered, and Pale frowned.

“Woman?” He asked, mind immediately racing – was it you? Had something happened? Were you okay? He shouldn’t have left he shouldn’t have let you go to the stores by yourself, not a pretty thing like you, not all alone.  

“Yeah, but she hung up when I asked who was callin’.” Nicky said, making Pale frown for a different reason.

“She didn’t give no name or nothin’?” He asked, and huh, well that wasn’t like you at all.

“Nope, just asked for Jim.” Nicky replied, and yeah no, no fuckin’ way was that you.

You hadn’t called him Jim, since that night you put him back together, all that time ago. No one really called him Jim, unless it was business people. That musta been it, he thought rolling his eyes, some secretary or some shit like that, trying to get a hold of him.

“If she calls again let me know, alright?” Pale asks, climbing the steps of the stage and assuming his position at the piano.

“Sure thing sir.” The kid gave a sharp nod and scurried off into the velvet seats, scribbling away on the clipboard.

 Pale didn’t like conducting. Fucking hated it, actually. Hated the way he could never figure out what the fuck that little baton was doing. He knew somewhere in the back of his head that it was keeping time or something like that, knew that it was for the rhythm or tempo or some shit, but he didn’t give a fuck. He knew technically technically technically he was supposed to follow the composer, but in this case, with his symphony, it was the conductor who was following Pale.

They were working on the sonata today, something extra special Pale had written up just for you.

The whole fucking thing was for you, of course it was, it always was.

But the sonata, now that was something Pale had spent hours and hours, days pouring his heart and fucking soul into. He hadn’t let you hear a single note of it, wanted to surprise you, wanted to make it grand and epic – even though he hated that word.

He played his part in it with passion, with ferocity, fingers dancing across the keyboard, pressing deep and hard, as if it were the expanse of your body and not ivory.

It was intense, it was powerful, it was entirely altogether far too intimate, but none of these other fuckin’ jokers could tell, could know what it meant – how it was the way you gasped and writhed underneath him, how it was the way you moaned sharp and loud, how it was the smack of the fucking headboard against the wall, the scraping of a table on the floors as he fucked you hard hard hard.

It was a full thirty fucking minutes long, the sonata, a full half hour of him sweating his balls off at the piano bench, of his hair clinging to his face, of his hands cramping and his back aching but it was so fucking worth it because when the music stops, when the last notes have hung in the air and have been given their chance, when there is nothing but silence and the orchestra is enchanted, enthralled, when they burst into applause, it’s worth it.

And then the applause is over because really this is just practice, this is just rehearsal, and he needs to practice more because there are notes he missed, he knows there are, keys he hit wrong and tempos he needs to keep steady.

But the conductor, some young guy fresh out of Julliard, gives them all a big grin when he stands.

“Okay, that was good, really good you guys! Let’s take a lunch break and we’ll meet back here, okay?” The conductor says, and everyone breaks out into chatter. He had a funny way of starting and ending him sentences the same way, had a funny way of doing just about everything, Pale thought.

But he didn’t give a shit, it wasn’t like he listened to the kid at all anyway.

He was just wiping his brow with the small handkerchief he kept in his pocket when Nicky ran over from the sidelines.

“Pale! Call for you.” He said, making Pale’s eyebrows shoot up.

“From her?” He demanded, already collecting his shit and storming over to the wing where Nicky had the receiver pressed against his chest.

“Nah, man named Fischel.” He said, and Pale sighed – he couldn’t tell if it was from relief or something else, but he nodded.

“Okay let me have it.” He said, reaching his hand out for the phone. Nicky gave him the whole thing, and Pale walked around with it, tucking the phone in between his cheek and shoulder so he could light up a cigarette. “Fish! How are you?”

“I’m doin’ real good Pale, real good. How about you?” Your boss had become his business partner, and the two had struck up somewhat of a friendly relationship.

Pale didn’t have many of those, none at all that didn’t involve some kinda back door bullshit. It was nice, even if the man was really fuckin’ old and maybe not his first choice of company.

“I’m alright, just in the middle of some concerto shit. What can I help ya with?” Pale asked, wondering if something was going on with the restaurant.

Pale’s schedule was pretty fuckin’ booked, between managing the restaurant in the city and working on the symphony at the concert hall. He’d spend a decent ten hours workin’ in the diner and then hop over to the Lincoln Center to do some practicin’ before he fucked off to go be with you.

Saturdays he went in for the whole day and Sundays he gave himself off. You took Sundays off too now, so the two of yous could always count on spending the day together.

Pale worried for just a fuckin’ second that of course one of the two days he doesn’t show up to the restaurant, some shit goes down, but with the way Fish was chuckling, Pale didn’t think so.

“I was just callin’ to check on you and (Y/N), see how you were doin’.” Fish said, soundin’ a little, just a tiny bit, accusatory.  

“Oh we’re real good, thanks – why did she say somethin’?” Pale asked, sucked in a big deep drag of his cigarette, mind racing racing racing.

“Nah, I’m just happy for you guys, wanted to make sure you were still good.” Fish said, “Good to know you’re good.”

None of that sounded convincing, none of it at all. It made Pale’s heart beat too fast, like he was gonna fuckin’ stroke out or something, like he was gonna have a heart attack.

“Okay Fish what’s really on your mind?” He asked, wanting to cut right to the chase.

“Why do I gotta have somethin’ on my mind?” Fish asked, defensive, which basically gave him the fuck away. Pale stayed silent on the phone for a minute or two, enough time for Fish to sigh and say real low, “Someone’s been callin’ after you.”

Oh jesus, he thought to himself, knowing exactly how that might look.

“A woman?” Pale asked, already feeling the beginning of a headache coming on despite smoking. He wondered if sticking a second one in his mouth would make him feel any better.

“Yeah.” Fish said, suspicious.

“Lemme guess, didn’t leave a name? Hung up as soon as you asked?” Pale grit his teeth when Fish hummed in mild surprise.

“Yeah, you know anything about that?” He asked, trying to play it cool, but that only pissed Pale off some more.

“Listen, if you think I’m cheatin’ on her, on (Y/N), don’t – that ain’t what’s goin’ on. Someone’s been blowin’ up all the fucking phones lookin’ for me but I don’t know who, they just keep callin’ and hangin’ up. I don’t know why, but it ain’t some side-chick or nothin’.” Pale said, maybe said a little too loud, maybe said it a little too angry.

“You sure?” Fish asked, ever the skeptic, and Pale wanted to throw something.

“Yeah I’m fuckin’ sure and as a matter of fuckin’ fact, I’m getting real fuckin’ irritated by this broad.” He snapped, and something in his voice must have signaled that he was telling the truth because he could hear Fish sigh on the other end of the line and suck his teeth in thought.

“Alright. I trust you. But you better find this girl and get her under control before (Y/N) thinks somethin’ fucked up is goin’ on, you know what I’m sayin’? I don’t want her breakin’ her heart over an assumption.” Fish said, and Pale calmed down, tried to calm down anyway, because he only cared about you.

“Listen the next time she calls, if she calls, pretend to be me for just long enough to get her name, okay? (Y/N) ain’t workin’ today, she’s out shopping – ” He said, making Fish exclaim in shock.

“She’s shopping?” He asked, and Pale had to laugh at that; you were notoriously stubborn when it came to Pale treating you to nice shit.

“Yeah, finally got her to take some cash and go out for once.” Pale said, scrubbing a hand down his face, smoking the last of the cigarette, wondering if he could steal enough time for a second one.

“Good for her.” Fish said, and Pale nodded, even though there was no way he could see it.

“Anyway she ain’t gonna be at work so the phone shouldn’t be a problem, I doubt this chick has my home phone number, whoever the fuck she is. But if she calls you again just pretend to be me and let me know who this stalker is, would ya?” Pale asked, and Fish hummed to himself for a while.

“I ain’t got your tone of voice but I can give it my best shot – oh I know I’ll have one of the line cooks say somethin’, he’s got a deper voice than me.” The old man said, and Pale made a mental check to buy him and his wife some flowers or something, just for being good people.

“Alright, thanks Fish. Sorry about all this, I promise ya I ain’t fuckin’ around, (Y/N)’s my one and only.” Pale said, finding that there had never been more truth in a statement than the one he just gave.

Fish had a smile in his voice when he said,

“She god damn well better be, or else they’ll be fishin’ you outta the fuckin’ river.”

“Don’t blame ya. Listen I gotta go, but give me a call if you hear anything else, okay?” Pale laughed, relieved to hear the old man chuckling on the other line.

“No problem, talk to you later.” Fish said, before hanging up.

 The next three hours whizzed by thanks to the help of the music and some blow.

He found he always worked best, always performed best when he was high off his ass, when he could practically see the fucking notes as they flew from his fingertips, sweating hands slipping and sliding off the keys. They plowed through the symphony, the violins and the brass and the woodwinds all melting together with the piano all cohesive, and Pale felt crazy, felt like he was soaring, like he could never do anything wrong.

At the end of the day, when everyone was out of breath and their hands all hurt and the sun had dipped down below the city skyline, and Pale’s high was beginning to crash and burn into something making him grouchy, making him exhausted, he closed the piano with a bit of a bang.

“Alright, I’m callin’ it for today. Anyone got any concerns or anything?” He asked, and no one spoke up which for once was a fuckin’ miracle. Usually somebody, anybody, everybody had something they wanted to fuckin’ say.

Maybe they thought Pale was in a bad enough mood to not want to tempt him, and he was glad for their foresight.

“See you guys in a week then, keep practicing, we’re gonna be great.” He assured everyone, because they needed assurance – it was a young orchestra, or at least filled with a lot of young new musicians. They needed reward to all the hard work, and Pale didn’t mind giving it to them if it meant they played better.

Pale gave a nod to everyone, and they all erupted into casual chatter amongst themselves, the different sections of the orchestra splitting off into their own groups for dinner and drink plans. Pale was starvin’, but he would wait until he ate with you to get his fill.

He wondered what you did today, had half a mind to call the house and ask you, but between everything he was gettin’ real fuckin’ sick of phone calls. He knew you’d be home for him when he walked through the door, knew you’d be waitin’ and wantin’ for him, knew you’d be eager to tell you everything.

He didn’t like the thought of you going out shopping all by yourself, paranoid that somethin’ might happen to you, but you were a big girl, a tough girl, you could handle yourself.

Still, as he walked to the bathroom he kept thinkin’ of ya, kept wondering.

The concert hall was somethin’ of a magical place, and on the walk to the men’s room, he thought about what you might think of it. What you might think of the sound of harmonic violins and low thrum of timpanies. He wondered if you’d like to listen to the swell of the orchestra as they all tuned up – that was his favorite part anyway, the tuning.

One section at a time, all matching intonation, all blending their sound. You liked the classical music he kept in his apartment well enough, you had loved the symphony he brought you to, all that time ago. Maybe the next time he had to come into the theater, if you were free maybe you’d come with him.

You were his good luck charm after all.

The bathroom was empty, thankfully, and Pale smoked his cigarette as he pissed into the urinal, as he scrubbed his hands with bar soap. He didn’t trust the liquid shit, didn’t trust hand sanitizer. Nah, he only liked good ol’ fuckin’ fashioned lye and oil bar soap. He watched as his ash flicked into the sink, watched as it was washed away with the suds and bubbles.

He looked at his hands – did they always look like this? He studied them for a minute, the manicured fingernails, the scarred knuckles from too many back alley fights. The ones from where he fuckin’ deck Marty’s face so hard he nearly broke the kid in two made him smile, just a little bit, because he was proud of those, but he was proud of little else.

He sighed and rinsed his hands off, studied his face in the mirror. Fuck, he looked like his father, he thought. When the hell did that happen.

He had a fleeting thought that maybe one day, his son would have the same thought, and he grimaced – that was, until he noticed a slight silver strand near his temple and he damn near inhaled the whole fuckin’ cigarette in a moment of shock.

He shoved his face up right to the mirror, goin’ damn near cross-eyed to see the fuckin’ grey hair, single grey hair wisping down with the rest of his locks.

Without thinking, he ripped it out of his head, heart racing.

He didn’t have time for this, he thought, didn’t have time to be spiraling now. He stubbed out the cigarette and lit up a fresh one, chain smoked his way out of the bathroom and down the hall to the main doors where he could get the fuck out of the concert hall and head back home to you.

He only got so fuckin’ far though, when Nicky stopped him in the hallway with a wave, hand clasped over the receiver of a telephone with a long ass cord, cord pulled tight.

“Pale!” Nicky whisper-yelled, pointing to the phone with urgency, “It’s her.”

Pale’s jaw clenched, and he stormed over to Nicky and grabbed the phone, harshly shoving it up under his ear as he smoked.

“Yeah hello?” He asked, angry, because why the fuck wouldn’t this chick leave him alone, “Hello? Who the fuck is this?” He demanded, and maybe that was the wrong way to go about this, maybe he should be polite to get some fuckin’ answers, but his mind was torn between like five fuckin’ different directions and he was just pissed.

There was silence on the other line, but if Pale listened real carefully, he could almost make out breathing. He didn’t recognize it, and it sure as shit wasn’t you – wasn’t anyone that he knew, otherwise they woulda just come out and say something already – and his already low patience was growing ever thinner.

“Why don’t you just say what the fuck you want from me, huh? What do you want?” He snapped, voice starting to raise, starting to yell.

He didn’t want to lose his temper but he was definitely fucking starting to yell.

“Alright you know I’ve had about enough of your little fuckin’ games. Stop fuckin’ callin’ me, whoever you are, you hear me? I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t know who you are, I don’t fuckin’ care. You call this number again and you’re gonna wish you never fuckin’ picked up the phone in the first fuckin’ place, you got that?” he spit, acid in his voice, face going red.

People stopped in the hallway to look at him, to stare, and they kept walking, not wanting to bother him, not wanting to get in his way.

“I – ” The voice finally said, but Pale didn’t give a shit anymore, he missed you, wanted you, not to be on the phone with some girl.

So he slammed the phone down and hung up, hoping that whoever it was on the other line could feel the ring in their ear from the force of it.

 His ride back to the apartment had him all fucking aggravated. If he had been annoyed with the subway that morning, he was downright pissed off. The phone call didn’t sit right with him – he hated people trying to get a hold of him. Hated people leaving messages but hated when they just didn’t say what they wanted even more. He didn’t like feeling like he was being hunted down or something, didn’t like that it was makin’ him look suspicious, like he was sneaking around behind your back.

He wasn’t, lord knows he wasn’t. And of all the fuckin’ things too, all the fucking timing in the world, it had to be today.

Christ, he thought to himself, another year older, another year wiser – wasn’t that the fuckin’ phrase? He didn’t feel too wise, but he sure as shit felt old. Especially with the grey fuckin’ hair he ripped outta his head.

“Bullshit.” He muttered, as the elevator doors slide open, “It’s nothin’ but bullshit. I work too god damned hard all the god damned time to be dealin’ with this.” He knew he was talkin’ to himself, but he didn’t care, he’d be with you soon.

He punched the buttons with maybe too much force, reached into the pocket of his leather jacket maybe too quickly, too eagerly, and pulled out the small vial of coke he kept stashed on him. Not enough to do much but give him a real good buzz, and fuck knows he needed one, needed somethin’.

He tipped it onto the back of his hand, snorted it right up, real easy, licked up whatever might be left and stuffs the tiny thing back into his pocket, waiting and watching as the numbers go up up up, and he starts to feel better.

He doesn’t like comin’ home to you in a bad mood, see? Doesn’t like walkin’ through the front door with a frown on his face, not to you. You didn’t deserve none of that, none of the bullshit.

But he does walk through the front door, and he does frown, because he’s confused – thinks he’s hallucinatin’, because since when the fuck are there flower petals all over the floor?

“(Y/N)?” He called out, starting to feel like he’s on top of the world, starting to feel like king of it all. He wanted to bury his face in your tits and make you come on his tongue, wants to come all over you, make you sloppy.

Fuck there was little that he loved more than making you sloppy.

“In here.” You called back from deep in the apartment and fuck, you sounded so good, your voice music to his ears, music and melodic and all the good fuckin’ things Pale’s brain can’t come up with right now because all he can think of is you.

His feet carried him to the bedroom, follows the rose petals to where it’s nice and dark, real dark, the window open a bit to let the cold air of autumn blow in, and there you are on the bed, candles lit all around you like he summoned you straight from his own personal hell.

If this is hell, he thinks, let him be damned.

“Fuck sweetheart you’re gonna kill me,” He groaned, his pants suddenly so tight, too tight, as you sit up on your knees on the bed, wrapped up in the prettiest fuckin’ lingerie Pale had ever seen. “You look too good, you leave the fuckin’ house like this? You leave the house lookin’ like this, like a perfect fuckin’ whore? Where’d you get this huh? Gotta go give them a thank you note, gotta get my hands on you holy shit look at your tits.” He rambles on and on, already shucking his jacket, already tossing it to the floor.

Your body is hidden behind black lace, but it’s not really hidden, not at all.

He feels a thousand miles high, and he grabbed at you, but you just grinned and stopped his hands from groping at you the way he wants.

“No – ” He frowned again, still confused, mind racing racing racing because is that your perfect nipple he can see through the sheer black fabric that could only barely be considered a bra?

“Happy birthday.” You curled yourself around him, looked up at him with those doe eyes of yours, and he tugged his hands free so he can grab your jaw, give your face a little shake.

Anxiety swooped in his stomach for a second, the briefest of seconds, because he wasn’t ready to be confronted with that, not yet, not fuckin’ yet. He swallowed around a lump in his throat and licked into your mouth, kissed you hot and wet as your hands dropped to his jeans, worked on the belt buckle and button, worked on easin’ his zipper down down down.

“How’d you find out it was my birthday?” He grumbled against your lips, and he’s sweating now, sweating as he pushed you backwards onto the mattress, rose petals fluttering away from the movement.

“I went lookin’.” You said nonchalantly, and that almost scared the shit out of him because where the hell could you have found that?

“Oh yeah?” He said back, climbing on top of you, already snapping the elastic of your bra, of your panties, of your garters that hold up your fishnet stockings.

You arched for him, stretched out like a great big cat, and his mouth salivates. He forgets all about the grey fuckin’ hair and the bullshit at work and the phone call he got that’s rattled his fucking brain, and he dives into you.

“Yeah.” You hummed when he sets his sights on your neck, when he licks his tongue across the golden chain you’ve kept on for damn near a year, his cock hard in his briefs, even harder when you reach down to grasp it. “So, happy birthday.”

He crinkled his nose at the sentiment, even though it’s comin’ from you, even though you make everything better.

“I’m an old man.” He huffed, bit down hard on your shoulder, hands splaying over the lace of your bra. He wanted to rip it up, rip it off, and he wondered if you’d let him. Wondered if you’d be pissed at him or if you’d think it’s sexy.

He ripped it off and you laughed, you kissed him.

“You’re my man.” You shook your head, kissed and kissed and kissed him until he’s moaning against your lips, hips rutting up against your thigh as he shoved you further up the bed.

He’s going to have fun with you tonight, he already knows.

“Say it again.” He demands, and you do, you tipped your head back for him and he buried his face in your cleavage like he’d been wanting to do all day, kissed the flesh of your freed breasts, nipples hardening from the cold air, from his touch.

“You’re my man.” You gasped, hand going up to his hair as he bites and sucks marks that he knows is going to turn bright red. He sucked some more.

“And you’re my present?” He asked, real cheeky like, because of course you’d be so sweet, of course you’d give him something like this, this chance to really peel you apart layer by layer – too bad he was impatient and an asshole, too bad he ripped up those layers instead of savorin’ them.

You didn’t mind, you never minded, you think it’s – what was the word? Endearing. You loved him.

“Why don’t you open me up and find out?” You asked with a wink, and Pale sucked his teeth with a smirk, eager to do just that.

 It never got old, he found, the unraveling of your legs, the parting of your pussy, the opening of your body to him. Each and every fucking time it was always like magic, like a drug, even better than the fucking coke – if anything could be. If it could be, it was this, he thinks to himself as he pried your legs apart.

And you’re go fucking good for him the way you wriggled up and up the bed, face already blushing and hot, he can feel hot fucking hot you are from there, as his hands wandered up and over you, down and around, pulled and pushed you how he wanted.

The coke buzzed in his veins and he growled as he yanked your panties down, tossed it across the room, snapping the garters on the way. He liked the fishnets, liked how they warped and stretched over the flesh of your thighs, your calves. He dug his hands into them, wondered if they would leave an imprint.

“I’m gonna eat this cunt of yours, because I deserve it, ain’t that right?” He asked, not that it was really ever a question of if he deserved it or not. If he thought about it too hard, he might come to the conclusion that no, he doesn’t really, but you don’t deny him either way.

“Yeah, you do, it’s yours.” You gasped as he settled himself between your legs, ignoring his cock for just a minute or two as he licked a hot stripe up your cunt.

You moaned and let a hand fly down to his hair, let yourself grip tight at the base of his scalp, and he practically purred into your pussy, thrust his tongue in as deep as it could go, ate you out like it was his last meal on earth. He could die happy, die just like this, suffocate in your cunt.

He decided he was going to take his time with you to make up for the quickie he had to give you earlier that morning. Decided he was going to drag it all out as long as he possibly could, make you come as many times as he could.

And oh, he could.

“You better come down my fucking throat, don’t you fucking hold out on me, okay?” He pulled away, smacked the outside of your thigh so hard that the sound of it startled you.

“Okay okay okay, I’ll come, make me come.” You laughed, a laugh that dissolved into a great big moan as he lowered his head back down.

You tasted like heaven, like pure sweet sex, like everything he had ever hoped and dreamed and longed for, all right there, right between your legs. Your pussy throbbed for him, your hips undulating in short little movements that had Pale’s chest growing warm.

He stroked your walls with his tongue, held your hip and your thigh steady so you wouldn’t go jerkin’ around or nothing, so you couldn’t go wriggling away like you were wont to do sometimes when things got too overwhelming. He wanted you overwhelmed, wanted you babbling.

He grazed his teeth over your clit and you had to throw one of your legs over his shoulder, the heel of your foot digging into his back, digging into the suit jacket he still hadn’t taken off, that he could feel he was sweating through. He didn’t give a shit, just kept licking at you, spelled his name, whispered secrets there, you moaning and panting all the while.

He liked you like that, liked that he could see your skin going shiny with sweat, liked that he could hear the whine in your throat as you fisted his hair.

He felt you coming before he tasted it, felt the way you tensed up for a split second, the way your knees locked around him, the way your toes curled. He couldn’t help but smirk right into your cunt, drinking all your come as it pulsed into his mouth.

“Good girl.” He pulled away, glanced up at you through the valley of your tits, nipples rock hard against the air.

But you, sweet thing that you were, you weren’t finished, there’s no way you could be, not ever satisfied until you got his cock in you, and you were already licking your lips, already reaching for him, trying to pull him up by his cheeks, by his ears.

“Pale, please – ” You said, but he lunged up to kiss you, cutting you off, bruising your lips with his own in a searing kiss that left you breathless.

He stroked your face with his sticky fingers, smeared your come and sweat around, licked and licked the corner of your mouth as his hand pinched at one of your nipples so hard that he could feel more of your come sliding out of your cunt, onto his thigh.

“Be patient, greedy whore.” He said, dropping his hand down to your pussy, making you gasp and moan as he fucked you with your own slick, two big fingers slowly slowly pumping in and out of you, making your hips lift up to try and get more friction, “It’s my fuckin’ birthday, ain’t it?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded, and Pale smirked.

“Then we’re gonna do what I want.” He said, plain and simple, and you pouted, didn’t like not getting your way. Greedy.

“What do you want?” You asked, voice hoarse, and he hummed, hummed and hummed and pretended to think while he fingered you, while your hand grasped at his wrist to prevent him from pulling away, while he sank down the bed just enough to ease your other nipple between his teeth.

“I want you to cry for me.” He said, adding a third finger to your pussy. His ring, middle, and index finger were doing their best to bring tears to your eyes, and they succeeded, especially when he included his thumb into the mix, using that to barely barely barely rub your clit.

He sucked on your nipple as he fingered you, and he had a hard time keeping the grin off his face when your hips thrust into his hand, when you really started fucking yourself on his fingers, when he lets you use him for your pleasure.

“Yes! Oh, oh Pale.” You cried, fat tears sliding down your cheeks and soaking into your hair, into the pillowcase below.

“Yeah that’s right, say my name, say my fucking name – shout it out. I want the whole fucking city to know who owns this pussy.” He snarled, suddenly taking control again, sliding his pinky into you too.

Fuck, he could fist you, could stick his whole hand in you if he wanted, could reach all the way inside you and fucking punch your cunt from the inside out.

The thought was addicting, absolutely fucking addicting, even moreso than the coke, than the music, than anything else.

“Pale! You do, I’m yours, I’m your whore – spit on me do whatever I’m yours.” You sobbed as he did what you asked, leaned back enough to spit right on your cunt, used it as lube even though you were drenched, you were sopping wet, his hand glistening and shining as he dragged it in and out of you.

He was so hard in his pants, leaking, he could feel himself leaking, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck you so badly but he wanted you to come again first, wanted you to fucking go at it again, wanted it to blow your fucking mind.

He sped up and up and up, until you were convulsing under him, until you were sobbing loud, orgasm hitting you so hard that you were bleeding from how hard you bit your lips.

He pulled his hand away abruptly, watching your cunt gape and wink at him, watching your pussy flutter, watching your stomach tense and your chest heave as you sobbed and sobbed, as your knees fell open and you were nothing more than a limp, twitching mess.

He shucked all his clothes off, did another little bump of coke, just the tiniest bit, emptied the rest of his little vial down his nose and under his lips, sliding into you real easy.

You took him no problem, pussy already contracting around his cock as he pounded you. He didn’t want to take his time with this, he wanted to blow his load as deep in you as he could go. He imagined it shooting up into your stomach, up your throat, into your mouth, imagined you swallowing it back down again.

He knew that wasn’t, it wasn’t how that worked, but fuck the thought turned him on so much he groaned and growled in your ear.

You were still crying, hiccupping, as he fucked into you, rammed his cock so hard and fast that it was all he could do but hold onto your hips, keep you pinned beneath him. He had to re-arrange you so that you were lying on your stomach, propped up on pillows because you had gone so limp as he shoved his cock into your wet cunt from behind, making you drool and drool.

He wasn’t going to last, not like this, not with the blood rushing to his cock, making him dizzy dizzy dizzy. He wanted one more from you, knew it was too much to ask, he knew that – but he wanted it anyway, wanted to make you scream, wanted everyone to know it was him, only him, always him.

“Again, do it again.” He demanded, bit down hard at the spot where your neck and shoulder met, but you only moaned loud and high.

“I – I can’t.” You whined, eyes shut tight tight tight, mouth dropped open, gasping for breath. God you looked a fucking wreck, it was gorgeous, everything about you was gorgeous.

“Yes you can, be good for me, you can be good, can’t you?” He murmured, soft and sweet as his balls slapped hard against your ass, as your shoulders pinched back, regaining some ability to move once more, using that ability to meet his hips for every thrust.

“Pale it’s so much.” You said despite all that, despite going back for more and more.

He pulled your hair away from your face, licked up your tears there as he fucked you, as he could feel his own orgasm start to creep up on him, as he could feel himself grow more and more desperate.

He wanted one more out of you, just one more, before he came in you.

“I know sweetheart I know, you can keep going, I know you can.” He soothed you with his words as his big hands gripped too tight, left real bruises there that would make you sore, bruises he’d press his fingertips into later, to remind you of the sweet sting, “You’re such a pretty slut.”

“Pale – I – oh fuck!” You shouted, coming one last time, making Pale finally fucking come, finally push his hips into you with enough force that it knocked you down off your elbows.

It felt like the crashing waves of the ocean, like the slam of cymabls, like the roar of a thunderstorm, coming into you, coming and coming, pining you down and filling you with it, hot and thick.

He felt victorious in a sick sort of way, god he had you, he was the only lucky bastard to ever have you.

“You ain’t never had a cock like mine huh baby?” He asked, as his hips came to a slow roll, as he fucked his come in and out of you, felt it squelch around his cock, felt it drip all over the sheets. “Say it.”

“No, never, only you.” He was proud at reducing you to this, to barely being able to speak a few words. He did that to you, made you come that hard.

“Fucking ruined you for any other dick huh? Never gonna have anything like this again huh?” He asked, and you gulped down big breaths of air as you tried to breathe, tried to get yourself together, even as he milked your orgasms for what it was worth.

“No no no, never, you’re the only one – oh Christ.” You moaned when he dropped a hand back to your clit, made you sob for him just a little more, trapped you.

You pushed your hips away from his hand only to fuck yourself deeper onto his cock, and you were shaking shaking shaking all over, all over, hands flexing and gripping the sheets, searching for a reprieve where there was only more acute pleasure.

When he pulled out, it was careful, so so careful, not wanting to hurt you. A huge pang of regret hit his chest in the fear that he had done real damange, that he had hurt you, and he spent time carefully checking over you, asking you if you were alright, bringing you water and wiping you down with a soft towel, one that wouldn’t irritate your skin.

You looked asleep, looked almost like you had blacked out, but when he shuffled under the covers with you and looped his arms around you, you smiled, little tremors running through your body.

He wondered when it started, when the sex became second best, second only to the moments like these, the moments where he gets to just lay with you. You’re covered in tears and there’s spit all over the place, spit and sweat, a lazy hand swirling it where it’s pooled in the dip of your navel. Your whole body is flushed and blotchy and your breathing is still uneven, and Pale can’t help but think you’re perfect.

The sex was incredible, but this, this was always something else, something he had never had before.

After a long time, a long long time, when he was sure you really had fallen asleep, you bit your lips and tapped his chest, getting his attention – as if it weren’t always on you anyway.

“I wanted your opinion on somethin’.” You whispered in the quiet, voice hoarse from all the shouting, all the yelling.

“How’s that honey?” He asked, voice soft and gentle, always gentle with you after being too rough, his hand caressing your back.

“My apartment. Lease is almost up you know.” You said, and he nods.

“Yeah, I know.” He said back, yawning great and big, as you trace his gold chain with the very tip of your finger.

“I was thinking maybe I wasn’t gonna renew it.” You said, making him crack an eye open to look at you.

“Are you bein’ serious right now or did the fucking get to your head?” He asked, and you grinned, and he pinched your cheek, your nose, only making you grin even more.

“I’m bein’ serious. I was thinking maybe…I could not renew the lease, and instead move in. Here, with you. You know I just figure since I’ve been spending a lot of time here, and I’ve already got so much stuff moved over from my place. And it could be nice to have this, have you to come home to when you come home. You wouldn’t have to deal with my walk-up or my neighbors or Marty or nothin’, we could just be here together.” You said, like you had been rehearsing, like you had been practicing. And he was entirely on board until you said, “I could help with rent, we could split it halfsies.”

“No.” He shook his head abruptly, making your gaze fall, your hand withdraw from where he had been running over and over the gold.

“…Oh. Okay – ” You said, and he wanted to kick himself because fuck he didn’t realize how that sounded.

“Huh, no! No not no, I meant, no you ain’t gonna split the rent with me at all. You ain’t gonna pay for rent, not with me.” He said, cupping your cheeks in his hand, makin’ you look up at him.

“Pale but this place has to be expensive – ” You frowned, but he shook his head, kissed you real gentle on the mouth, kissed reassurance into your lips.

“Yeah, and? I got it, I don’t want you spendin’ any money, okay? Not on shit like this. You’re gonna live here and you’re not gonna worry about anythin’, okay? I mean it.” He said, adamant, and your eyes lit up.

“You really want me to stay?” You whispered, and Pale wondered if he’d not been doin’ a good job at making you feel wanted, if you had to ask a question like that.

“I’ve wanted you to stay for damn near a year, (Y/N).” He said, making you grin, “I’ve wanted you to stay ever since I first saw you through that window of yours. I want you to be here in the mornings with me so I can fuck you awake, so I can come in your mouth for breakfast and I want you to make coffee for me while I bitch about the construction and I want you to paint your toenails on the fire escape so the smell of the acetone don’t stink up the living room. I want you to go out shopping and come home in lingerie that I get to rip off. I want to dance with you in the fuckin’ dining room and the living room and the bedroom and I want you to cry on my cock all the time.”

“I’m gonna have to sell all my furniture.” You laughed, crying for something different, for a whole different reason, and Pale just wiped the happy tear away, licked it off his thumb.

“No you’re not, move it over, your shit’s only across the fuckin’ street.” He said, before pinching at your cheek and teasing, “It ain’t like you got anything anyway.”

“Shut the fuck up,” You giggled, blissed out and euphoric, “Where am I gonna put my tub?”

“It can go in the second bathroom, if you want. We don’t got a tub here, only the shower.” He said, he didn’t care, he was over the fucking moon.

You could put the tub anywhere you damn well pleased, could put it right in the fucking bedroom if you wanted, he didn’t care. He suddenly just so overcome with affection, adoration, love for you, for wanting him, wanting to be and stay with him.

“I’m glad you moved here.” You said, sincerity in your eyes and deep deep in your chest, “I don’t think I ever said that before. But I am.”

“I’m glad too. If for only because of you. The traffic’s a bitch and the people suck and the air ain’t clean and people are dyin’ all the time, dyin’ in the streets and in the parks and in their apartments, but at least I got you. No where else has you.” He said, took a second just to look at you, just to admire how beautiful you were, “They say that somewhere between living and dreaming, there’s New York. I don’t know, I think between living and dreaming, there’s you.”

You blushed, always so soft for him, for his words when he gives them to you like this, when he can finally figure out how to express himself to you.

He had a bit of a hard time sometimes, expressing himself to you, but he’d gotten better, this past year – had tried, anyway.

“Is that a grey hair?” You asked randomly, letting your fingers comb through his locks, and he groaned.

“For fucks sake, another one?” He asked, already searching for a mirror in the side-table drawer, making you laugh and tug him back down to cuddle up with you under the covers.

“What? No! Don’t rip it out.” You insisted, smacking his hand away, grabbing it and bringing it to your lips where you could kiss the knuckles there, the back of his hands.

“Why not?” He frowned, thinking of how he yanked one out earlier.

“I like it. Makes you look distinguished.” You grinned up at him, and his heart thudded in his chest.

“You sayin’ I looked unimpressive before?” He teased, and you just laughed, and he laughed, and for a little while, everything felt like it was going to be perfect forever.

Until there was a pounding on the front door, that had you both startled.

“What was that?” You asked, as you sat up straight away, reacting to the noise with annoyance rather than fear.

You were out of the bed in an instant, as the pounding resumed, putting on your big soft robe Pale had gotten you and storming out of the room.

Pale scrambled, not knowing who the fuck it was, not knowing it they were a dangerous person or not. He threw on some clothes too, pulled his own robe tight around his hips and chased after you, panic flooding his system as he tried to recall if he had pissed anyone off.

“(Y/N), wait a fuckin’ second let me – ” He rushed, when the pounding on the door didn’t stop.

“Open the fucking door!” A voice called from the other side, and Pale’s blood ran cold, chilled right through his fucking body, because he recognized that voice, knew exactly who it had belonged to.

How the fuck had she found him?

“Okay just shut the fuck! Up!” He shouted, irritation and rage consuming him as he yanked the door open, as the two of you were met with a slap in the face each from the well manicured hand of a woman Pale honestly thought he wouldn’t have to fucking see in person again for a long long time.

“You got some real fucking nerve talking to me like that.” She hissed at him, bullying her way into the apartment, rounding on you with her hand poised to slap you again, “And you!” She shouted, making Pale’s protective instinct kick into overdrive as he stepped between you and her, as he grabbed her arms and shook her like some fucking psychotic rag doll.

“Hey! What the fuck is the matter with you? Hey! Fucking look at me.” Pale shouted in her face while you stood stunned behind him, eyes wide, confused and scared, “You ever touch (Y/N) like that again I swear to god I’ll break your fuckin’ bones, Barbie.” He shook her hard again before dropping his grip on her with such force she stumbled back against the wall.

“Don’t call me that Jimmy, you piece of shit.” She spit on the floor, literally spit on his floor, red in the face and seething.

“Pale who – ” You finally spoke up, arms snaking around his middle from behind, wanting to keep him close to you.

“I’m his wife.” She sneered, and Pale wanted to scream, because of course she would pull a stunt like this, of course.

“(Y/N), this is Barabra.” He said through a clenched jaw, already trying to race through what the fuck it was she could possibly want.

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

Tagging some pals! As always please let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off the tag list <3  @fullofbees​ @spinebarrel​ @dreamboatdriver​ @thecurlycaptain​ @bourbonboredom​ @driverficarchive​ @rosalynbair​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @adamsnackdriver​ @glitzescape​ @adamsnacc-kler​ @kyloxfem​ @fallin-for-youreyes @kylo-renne​ @attorneyl​ @jedihbic​ @bens-rose​ @callmehopeless​ @formerly-anonhamster​ @thepilotanon​ @hippieface​ @tinyplanet-explorers​ @satansstrawberry

[dcnatural]

I Did Something Bad

Word Count: 1854

Pairing: Reader x Joker

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: You are a bad cop and, one day, you cross paths with the Joker

There was something about him that fascinated you. Sure, maybe he was a crazy, narcissistic psychopath, but you couldn’t deny that he was easily the most interesting case you had ever investigated.

You had been working as an officer for GCPD for about a year when you first crossed paths with him. He had just fled Arkham, and like always, was looking to cause chaos. You and your partner were on patrol around the West Side, a rich and relatively peaceful part of the town, it was a calm night. That is, until a bleeding man jumped in front of the car, laughing like a maniac. It didn’t take more than a look for you know he was under the effect of the Laughing Gas. And that meant that the Joker was around here. While your partner called the precinct, asking for backup (as you would later found out to be procedure when dealing the Clown Prince of Crime), you followed the bloody trail that marked the path the man had made, hoping it would lead you to the criminal.

And it did. You caught up with him just in time to see his messy green hair entering a nightclub and went in after him. The party was noisy, and room was packed and when you thought you had lost him and was ready to give up, you spotted his messy green hair leaning on the bar counter and staring straight at you. But your blood didn’t freeze like you thought it would do, it boiled. The excitement of being face to face with the most notorious madman in the U.S.A. made you lose any professional objectivity, and instead of arresting him, you sat by his side and ordered a drink. The two of you didn’t talk, just looked at each other, and when the radio buzzed, calling you back to the scene, you went back without him. 

Fifty people died in that club half an hour after you left, but, as you laid in bed, watching the news reporter announce the body count, you didn’t feel a bit guilty. No, you were intrigued. He could have killed you, but he preferred taking the risk of you reporting his location and ruining his plans. Why? That single question burned into your mind, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it, until you saw him again, two weeks later. 

* * *

You had just busted a drug dealer selling meth, and was pressing the young boy into giving you the name of his boss. Sure, you were applying more force than necessary, but this was Gotham, talking would lead you nowhere in this city. As you slapped the boy on the face, you felt yourself being observed. You looked around, but you were in a cul-de-sac, empty but for you and the boy, the buildings had no windows. There was nowhere to watch you from. The boy begged you to let him go, claiming he didn’t know any names, only sold the drug, but you were on edge, and annoyed he wouldn’t give you what you needed, you slammed his body into the wall. You kicked him in the stomach and asked if he still didn’t remember. He didn’t. Finally you left, going back towards your police car. You were on your own that night, as your partner had been shot by Two-Face and was resting at home. 

There was something stuck in the windscreen wiper, and you picked it up. A just taken Polaroid picture showing you and the kid. You turned to the alley, where he still laid on the floor, and then scanned again your surroundings. 

“Is anyone there?”, you shouted. You pull your gun out of the holster, preparing to shoot at any threat. You are answered just by a guffaw. Truly, it was all the answer you needed. You followed the sound until you found the man standing in the doorway of an abandoned building, half hidden in the shadows.

“Liked my gift, officer?”, he asked, prolonging each syllable.

“Put your hands in the air”, you said, aiming the gun at his head. He didn’t even flinch.

“Why, I was hoping we could talk.” Even in the dark, you could see he was smiling. It was different than his signature smile, it wasn’t predatory. You would dare to say he was as intrigued by you as you were by him.

You lowered your gun, but didn’t return it to the holster. “Officer L/N”, you told him. 

“Joker”, he said, as if it wasn’t obvious. He uncrossed his arms and you raised the gun again. But he hadn’t taken anything, he was just holding out his gloved hand for you. “My, my, my, just trying to be polite.”

You buffed and shook his hand, half expecting to receive a shock. He was known for pulling pranks. “Is there any more photos?”, you asked, letting go of him and stepping back.

“Commissioner Gordon wouldn’t be approving of your methods , would he?”

“They bring results”, you state. You didn’t care what Gordon would say. It wasn’t like anyone would tell him, everyone in your precinct used such methods. “Do you have any more copies?”, you ask again.

He smiles mischievously. “Maybe…”, he pulled a bunch of Polaroids from the pocket on his purple suit and held them out like a fan. You can’t see what are on them, since the pictures are facing him. “Let’s play a game, you answer a question, you get a photo? How ‘bout that?”

You didn’t like that. You didn’t like bargaining with the Devil. But you could only blame yourself, if you hadn’t let him go two weeks ago, then you would be home by now. “Alright. Fine, but not here. Let’s get some drinks”, you stated. If you were going to do this, you would need to get drunk first.

Turning on his heels, he laughed. “I know just the place.” He bowed, signaling for you to go first. His actions were rather theathical, but there was nothing inoffensive about him. 

From time to time, he would say for you to turn left or right, and you could take a opportunity to steal a glance from him. You couldn’t help but notice the way he moved, like a hyena stalking its prey. And you were the gazelle. 

* * *

He chose the crappiest bar in town. At least that was the only way you could describe the place. It smelled like cheap beer and cigarette, and some tough looking guys eyed you weirdly, seeing the uniform. But noticing your company, no one said anything. 

You sat by a table on the very end of the bar, facing the front door. Cop habit, always watch your exits. A skimpy dressed waitress came and took your orders. Your long neck beer arrived and you removed the cap using your silver ring. You took a sip, and bitter liquid burning it’s way down your throat.

“So”, you said, crossing your hands over the table. “What do you want to know?”

“Oh, just the basics”, he said with a laughter. His beverage remained untouched. “Full name?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” He nodded and you sighed, answering what he had asked.

“Camila”, he tastes the word on his tongue, making it sound almost lyrical. He slid a photograph across the table for you. You flipped it carefully, so no one else could see it. It was identical to the one he left on your car, taken less than seconds apart. You tucked it into your pocket. “How long have you been on a cop?”

“A year.”

“Fresh out of the Academy then! Tell me, am I your first super villain?”

You shake your head impatiently. “One question, one picture. Pay me before asking the next one”, you demanded.

He faked outrage. “I’m offended, I thought you trusted me. I am a man of my word”, he said placing a hand over his heart. He handed you another photo. “There. Will you answer now?”

“Yes. You were the first insane costumed criminal I crossed paths with.”

His eyes widen, fists slamming the table. “Insane?”, he scoffs. “I’m not insane. I have been told that perhaps I’m the most sane man in world. I understand how the world works: just a big ol’ joke”, he throws the next picture at you carelessly. “I thought you understood me… tsk tsk tsk. I have to say I’m disappointed, Camila.”

“Sorry”, you muttered. Not that you cared. He was insane after all, but he had something you wanted.

“Tell me, have you ever killed someone?”

The question makes you uncomfortable. Not because you are ashamed or regretful, but because telling him the truth would be risky. But, then again, who would believe the Joker? “Yes”, you say, a smile forming on the corner of your lips. 

He hands you another Polaroid. He seems very interested on that story. “How?”

“Shot them in the head twice. Threw it in the river, no body no crime”, you tell him, matter of factually. 

Another picture. “Who was it?”

“The man who mugged and killed my best friend”, as you tell him, the memories flood your mind. Your friend’s body covered in blood, you trying to close the wounds, the sirens of the ambulance that didn’t get there in time, the cake you had bought crushed under the feet of the paramedics, the ruined birthday decoration, your hands covered in blood, tears on your face. The obsession with finding the person responsible, the mugger who didn’t even remember his victim, you kicking him until his teeth feel off, you pulling the trigger twice, you pushing the body into the river, your hands covered in blood, a wicked smile on your face.

“Ohh”, he cheers, “revenge. Beautiful”, he claps his hands and gives you the next picture. “Good, only three left. Let’s make them worthy, shall we? Why didn’t you arrest me?”

You hesitate. “I don’t know”, you shrug, “it just felt the right thing to do.” You’ve emptied your beer and when the waitress passed by, you ordered another. 

“Why did you become a cop?”

You drink half of the new beer and laugh. “That’s easy. Because I wanted to do justice. But no one had told me that justice belongs in fairy tales. In real life there’s only power.”

“I knew you understood”, he held the last photo on his hand, waving it to you. “Last one”, he gave a dramatic pause before looking deep into your eyes and asking, red mouth forming the words loud and clear, this was the only question that truly mattered. “Are you single?”

You take the last gulp of your beer. “Yes”, you confess, cheeks blushing. It had been a long time since you were romantically or sexually involved with anyone. Joker hums, approving your answer. With the nine pictures on your possession, there’s nothing stopping you from leaving. And you should do just that, but he is like a magnet, pulling you closer. You get up and ask, “Walk me to my car?” 

You put the money on the table to pay for your drinks. He raises from his seat and offers you an arm, like a gentleman. You take his offer and you two walk back to where you came from. Once you reach the car, you pull all of the pictures from your pockets and reach for the lighter inside the vehicle.

“Light it up”, you say, giving him the lighter. He does just that, the edges of the Polaroids taking fire and burning. As the heat becomes too much, you drop the photos on the floor and watch as the fire consumes them, until just ember is left.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Soulmarks, Part 12

First part

Previous

~~~

Tim was separated from the only two people in the country he knew within seconds of the lunch bell ringing.

Marinette had been called up by the teacher. Apparently, she was class president last year and she held the duties until the next election. She gave a tiny sigh as she released Tim’s hand and gave both him and Adrien kisses on the cheek before heading out with Mme. Bustier.

Adrien, at least, was still in the room. Unfortunately, though, he was completely surrounded by his classmates, who were all clamoring for pictures of his notes.

He crossed his arms over his chest awkwardly as he stood outside the door, waiting for either of his friends to appear.

The door swung open and out walked Lila.

Damn it, he’d held Marinette’s hand too long and her bad luck had rubbed off on him.

He sighed. “What do you want?”

She smiled sweetly at him, twirling a lock of her hair in her fingers. “I just wanted to show the new kid around some.”

“Wouldn’t that be Marinette’s job as class rep?”

Lila sighed and shook her head slowly. “Oh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but… I wouldn’t get too close to Mari.”

He raised his eyebrows. A little late for that, but he supposed he may as well ask: “Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, she’s a bit of a bully.” She looked at the ground. “Did she ever tell you about all the times she tried to ‘prove’ that I wasn’t actually disabled? Just because she didn’t like me? We hadn’t even talked, she was just mad I was talking to Adrien!”

A frown made its way across his face. Sure, it wasn’t at all like the Marinette he knew, but how well did he know her? He’d never seen how she interacted with people she didn’t like… and hadn’t he seen just how ruthless she could be when she wanted to that first day with ‘bowling’? In the way her expression hardened when Joker or Harley were mentioned?

He leaned against the wall. “There are other things?”

Lila’s head jerked up in surprise. “Huh?”

“You said ‘for one thing’. That implies more.”

“You’d think bullying would be enough…” Said Lila with a frown, but she continued: “Secondly, I think she’s a gold digger.”

His mind wandered to the few times Bruce had tried to buy something for her. How she’d ended up hiding money around for him to find so he couldn’t force it back into her hands. He gave a soft laugh. No, he wasn’t concerned about that. “Well, I can say she isn’t.”

Besides, if anyone here was a gold digger, it was probably Lila. Her eyes had lit up at the Wayne name. Projecting much?

She didn't seem all that convinced. “I just think it’s a little suspicious that she goes after you, Kagami, and Adrien. The girl has a pattern, and it’s money.”

He snickered. “Okay, and what about Chloe Bourgeois?”

“Chloe?” Said Lila slowly. “How do you know about Chloe?”

He frowned. “She’s in our class, right?”

“Well, yes, but they don’t talk or anything. How’d you know about her?”

“Simple: I’m her soulmate.”

Lila blanked. There was a few moments where she apparently rebooted, and then she scoffed. “Are you sure about that? Marinette likes to lie. A lot.”

“Pretty sure. Unless you know some other designers, who live in France, who bakes a lot, who carries a yoyo in their pocket, who also happens to love her parents.”

She finally stopped twirling her hair, shoving her hands in her pockets as she mulled this over. “Congrats on finding your soulmate,” she said in the same begrudging tone that siblings use when their parents make them apologize to each other. “But…”

“But…?”

Lila leaned forward conspiratorially. “I think she might be working for Hawkmoth.”

Don’t. Laugh.

He shook his head, pursing his lips together tightly to stop himself from laughing. When he was sure that he could keep a straight face, he mumbled a “yeah, no.”

She shrugged. “Don’t believe me? She disappears during every akuma and she’s never been akumatized. I’m telling you, she’s working with him!”

He couldn’t help it anymore, he snickered. Sure, the girl had gathered some pretty good evidence, but she’d come to the complete wrong conclusion. Before he could really come up with a reason for why he was so convinced that she couldn’t be working with him, he spotted Marinette running back to the classroom.

Tim watched her eyes narrow when she spotted Lila and raised his eyebrows. Sure, three out of four of Lila’s points were wrong, but the first one still concerned him.

Marinette gave a forced smile as she came to a stop beside him. “Ready for your tour? I even got special permission to take you out of school for lunch today,” she chirped, holding up two tiny slips of paper.

He smiled faintly. “How’d you manage that?”

“I let it slip to the principal that I was showing around Tim Drake-Wayne. They practically begged me to keep the school food away from you.” She winked, then her eyes found their way to Lila. Her smile lessened. “Lunch is almost over for you, Lila, you should get something to eat. What with your weak immune system and all, we wouldn’t want you to get sick, would we?”

He narrowed his eyes slightly and glanced at Lila, who sighed like this was a regular occurrence.

“Fine, Mari, I’ll leave. I know when I’m not wanted.” She leaned up and kissed Tim on the cheek before he could really react. “A presto,” she said, sending a grin over her shoulder as she walked off.

He gave a tiny wave and then glanced at Marinette.

“You’re crumpling the papers.”

She snapped out of it and frowned, looking down at the passes. She loosened her grip and started smoothing them out with her fingers. “Right. Sorry. Let’s go.”

~

She should have warned him about Lila. She had no clue what the liar had said about her, but it clearly was affecting Tim. Earlier he’d been holding her hand and now he would barely even look her in the eyes.

She stared at the empty cup of coffee in front of her as they waited for the waiter to come back with their food in silence.

A tiny part of her was tempted to just let Lila have him. She’d managed to get everyone else, had picked off all her friends one by one. Even Adrien would usually eat with Nino. At this point, she was starting to think it would be easier to just let go of the hope that she could really have friends while she lived in Paris. It would certainly feel better than grasping onto him desperately only to lose him…

She pulled her yoyo from her pocket and started messing with it.

One attempt. She’d give herself one attempt.

“What did she tell you?”

He looked at her. Finally.

“She obviously told you something. What was it?”

He finished off his coffee and set down his cup. “She said you’re a bully.”

“Well, she’s a compulsive liar.”

“She said the same about you.”

She cursed as her yoyo tangled itself and started fixing the string. “And you’re going to believe her over me?”

He reached across the table and gently pulled the yoyo from her fingers and started working the knots out. “Normally, I wouldn’t, but…” He sighed lightly. “Would she really have a reason to fake an illness?”

Marinette blinked, then shook her head. “That wasn’t the first lie I figured out. The first one was --.” She cut herself off and gave the waiter an awkward smile as he set down a plate of waffles.

The teens mumbled their thanks and he left.

She switched to English for her next sentence: “She lied about being friends with Ladybug.”

He raised his eyebrows.

She frowned. He didn’t trust her. Great. She had proof, at least. She scrolled through the Ladyblog for a while before handing over the video of Lila claiming to be Ladybug’s best friend.

“So... she lied once to seem cool to her new classmates and you decided that was enough to never trust her again?”

She wanted to kick something. Seriously? She pulled her yoyo back from him and started pulling on the string as hard as she could. She needed her yoyo back. She needed to calm down. She needed --.

Her eyes spotted a black and purple speck on the horizon and she squeaked.

Fuck. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t get akumatized. She wouldn’t be able to fix things if she was akumatized. She couldn’t let someone die because of her --.

Tim followed her gaze and cursed quietly. “Listen, Nette, I’m sorry! I believe you!”

“I’m not stupid, Tim! I know you’re just saying that!” She hissed.

Angry tears formed behind her eyes. All the emotions she’d been holding back since Hawkmoth had begun his reign of terror were threatening to fall through and she couldn’t let that happen. God, she was feeling so much and she couldn’t handle it and she couldn’t allow herself to even try and someone was letting the akuma in and --.

She shut down.

Her emotions went from feeling like they were suffocating her to being practically nonexistent. She sunk in her seat, barely even paying attention to all the people scrambling for cover as fast as they could. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything at all.

The akuma paused inches away from her yoyo and she watched with a blank face as it slowly turned around and fluttered out the way it had come.

“Nette?” Said Tim quietly, his eyes not leaving the akuma.

She closed her eyes.

One attempt, she told herself. One last attempt.

“I’ll admit, I definitely didn’t like that Lila was getting close to Adrien and it made me more bitter and skeptical about everything she said than I should have been… but I still caught her in actual lies. About who she knows, about the things she’s done, about her illnesses, about everything. And I called her out on it every time, it’s why she’s so determined to keep everyone away from me. With more lies, of course, but they always have just enough truth that everyone believes her and nothing I do ever seems to be enough to convince them.”

Tim said nothing for a moment…

And then she felt his hand rest over hers.

“I believe you… but --.”

She groaned. “Great. I tried. Want a tour before we stop talking to each other forever?”

“Not like that. I’m just saying… for all of her lies, she was projecting: bullying, gold digging, lying…”

She nodded slightly. “Sure. So?”

“She also accused you of working for Hawkmoth.”

Her eyes snapped open.

~~~

Next part

“I can’t wait to see what Lila does”

Me, staring at my outline, which just says “Lila but better but also stupid”: yeah me too buddy

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