#so she gave me supplements

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE CARLOT - REDUX 2.0 ↪️ AKA: The one where it's the other way around. "What would I do without you?" "You'll never have to find out." Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

[mod2amaryllis]

🌟 PRODUCTIVE APPOINTMENT WITH HEALTH PROVIDER +15 HP

[ourladyoftheflytrap]

My mom didn't go with me to the vet with dust but today she was like "did she give dust a steroid shot? I was reading online that a different vet gave somebody else's cat a steroid shot. Also im gonna buy dust some supplements to put in his food to help" like why in the world are you trusting the advice of people who have never laid eyes on my cat over the advice of the licensed professional who did??

[queencvbra]

honestly I don't think I have much to say about part 3 when it comes to tory's arc, I'm just happy for her. and I wish there was more of her bc I feel like she needed at least one conversation after the fact to kind of . . . establish the new ground for her character? wrap up her journey? if that makes sense? like we see *where* she's going afterwards and the trajectory of her life (in the short term at least) but I wanted a moment to hear her say how *she* felt after finally getting what she worked for.

[thedegu]

Found out today that I was self medicating for my autoimmune disorder through eating so many onions and garlic in my normal daily diet. Lmao I did not realize that

[pretchatta]

Family Dinner

After Ezra builds his lightsaber, the Ghost crew introduce him to the celebratory tradition that has evolved over the years, growing with each new member that joined the Spectres. It's one they're all too happy to add Ezra to – and he has a perfect addition of his own.

I wrote this three years ago (!!) for the @legacy-rebelsfanzine fanzine and was waiting to post it until after I received my copy. Unfortunately that never happened so I never posted it, but (spoiler alert) I'm coming back to writing and right now have a couple of pieces I'm sitting on for exchanges. This means I'm chomping at the bit to post something, so I figured it was finally time I shared this outside of the zine. Enjoy!

The delightful illustrations were all drawn by @wachie

you can also read, kudos and comment on AO3! ->

---

Ezra held his breath as he waited for his master to pass judgement on his newly-built lightsaber.

"Well, it's different," Kanan said finally, "but that seems about right for you. Go for it."

He handed the unorthodox hilt back to his Padawan and, holding it apprehensively out in front of him, Ezra ignited the blade. With a snap-hiss, the blue beam of energy came to life, its glow illuminating the Ghost's common area and reflecting in five pairs of awestruck eyes. The whole crew gazed at it and the boy holding it with a mixture of pride and reverence.

"I think this deserves a celebration," Hera murmured, breaking the silence.

Kanan gave her a knowing look, a grin playing at his lips. "Our usual?"

"Let's see what Ezra wants," she said, mirroring his smile. She turned to Ezra to explain, "It's become a tradition on this ship to mark special occasions with a particular meal, but since this is your achievement, is there something you would like? Something to celebrate the day you built your lightsaber?"

"Well..." Ezra stared thoughtfully at his still-lit lightsaber for a moment, a crease forming between his eyebrows. He seemed to come to a conclusion and thumbed the switch to retract the blade, dimming the light in the room back to its usual levels. "When I was a kid and my parents were making their broadcasts, there was a stew we'd have after each one. I remember it had these dumplings on top and when we made it, they'd let me make the dumplings. It was our tradition."

"A traditional stew, huh?" Zeb asked with a grin. "I think we're having our usual, Hera."

Ezra quirked an eyebrow at him. "You have the same thing?"

"Not with dumplings."

"Not yet," Sabine corrected, a glint in her eye.

It's our own special kind of stew," Hera explained to him. "It's changed a lot over the years, but it started when I first set out to fight the Empire. Whenever I had a few spare credits I'd treat myself to fresh  produce – whatever the local market had. I'd slice it up and fry it to add some flavour and texture to the usual rations. Each time someone joined my crew, it changed."

"It always went cold quickly, so I turned it into a broth," Kanan said.

"And it was vegetarian," Zeb added with a grimace.

Hera turned to him with a frown. "We couldn't afford meat regularly until you joined us," she pointed out.

"Somehow it was still lacking flavour when you picked me up, so I was the one to add spices," Sabine chipped in.

Hera smiled. "It improved each time."

"And your dumplings will make a great addition," Kanan told Ezra. "They should cook in the broth, and with them we won't even need to supplement it with rations any more."

Hera picked up her datapad and moved to stand in front of her crew. "It sounds like we need to make a market trip."

There was no need for everyone to go, but no-one wanted to stay behind – not even Chopper. Once everyone was out, Hera locked up the Ghost behind them as Zeb led the way to Kothal. Kanan hung back to walk with her behind the kids, and she slipped her hand into his and gave him a smile of thanks. The soft look he gave her in return warmed her heart.

Something had changed in him since he'd taken Ezra to that Temple, and something had changed in Ezra too. They had both come back different – calmer, more sure of themselves, more comfortable in their roles as Jedi Master and Padawan. She'd always done her best to support Kanan, but she knew Ezra and the Jedi Temple could give him something she had never been able to. However, the look in his eyes reminded her that she gave him something just as important.

The market wasn't overly busy this late in the day. They split up in order to find everything – and therefore get back for dinner – faster. Zeb went to a local butcher's stall with Chopper not far behind, and Sabine said something about running low on a few of her spices. Ezra seemed to be looking with interest at a selection of baking ingredients, so Hera left him to it and went to her favourite fresh produce stand.

Hera knew she was here for vegetables but the display of imported meilooruns did look good… She turned to ask Kanan if they had the credits for one, but he wasn't behind her where she had expected. A search of nearby stalls found him only a few metres away, wearing–

"Kanan," she called, incredulity colouring her voice, "is that a 'kiss the cook' apron?"

"What do you think?" he asked, giving her a roguish wink.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hold back a grin. She allowed herself one meiloorun as she bought the vegetables, and then went to round up her crew.

Surprisingly, Chopper was the first she came across, and he seemed to be in a very good mood. She assumed he'd been looking at the displays of mechanical oils again. Zeb was next, who had managed to haggle an extra steak into his bag, and then Sabine, who had been about to wander over to a dye stall. Kanan fetched a suspiciously flour-covered Ezra and then she was leading the way back to the Ghost after yet another successful supply run.

Cooking began as soon as they returned, with everyone eager to eat. Kanan made a start on the broth, with Hera by his side slicing the vegetables. Sabine brought the pestle and mortar out to start grinding her spices as Zeb sharpened his steak knives. Kanan helped Ezra get ready to make his dumplings, and Hera saw what looked like a pang of nostalgia pass over the boy's face as he laid out his bowls in a very specific way.

The sounds that filled the galley were almost like music; the steady chop of Hera's knife, the sizzle of Zeb's pan, the scrape of Sabine's pestle and the gentle simmer of Kanan's broth. It didn't take long for some amazing smells to start wafting around the small space either.

"Hey, Ezra," Sabine called over the noise. "Have you ever had bisawa paste before?"

An array of jars and pots were open on the counter in front of her, the contents of which she was carefully measuring into a bowl. The one currently in her hand was filled with a bright green paste.

"Nope," Ezra replied, looking at the contents of the jar with interest. "What is it?"

Instead of replying, she used a spoon to scoop some out and offer it to him. "You should try some!"

Behind her, Zeb's ears pricked up with interest as he started to carefully transfer the contents of his pan into the broth. "Yeah, kid, try some, it's really good!"

"Okay," Ezra said, shrugging as his curiosity got the better of him.

He let Sabine feed him the mouthful of paste. It was as she removed the spoon and her eyes lit up with mischief that he realised his mistake – his tongue was burning. It was too late to stop himself from swallowing. The heat spread throughout his mouth and down his throat. Ezra felt his face flush and his eyes start to water.

He let out a pained groan. "Sabine!"

She tipped her head back and cackled with laughter. He lunged towards her, intending to wipe his floury hands on her in retribution, but Sabine was too fast. She ducked nimbly under his outstretched arms, still laughing. The galley wasn't very big, and as his vision blurred with tears he stumbled into the back of someone.

"Hey!" Zeb complained as Ezra knocked him.

Ezra started to wonder if his vengeance on Sabine could wait until after he found some water, but was distracted by the sight of the perfect white handprint on Zeb's back. Sabine noticed too, and they both burst into laughter together.

Zeb realised he was the butt of their joke, but fortunately for all Hera stepped in before the situation could escalate.

Ezra, get yourself a glass of water," she said calmly, "and Zeb, now's a good time to lay the table."

She wasn't sure if it was her or their hungry stomachs that made them obey, but her crew did as they were told. She left Kanan to stir the last of the vegetables into the broth as she went to check on Ezra. He was mostly recovered from his first encounter with bisawa, and while she had sympathy from him, every crewmember had at some point been subjected to Sabine's "taste test". It was part of the tradition now.

Soon, they were all sitting down together, rubbing elbows in the cramped space of the galley. Kanan served them each a bowl of warm, rich stew, but remained standing.

"Congratulations, Ezra," he began with a smile. "Finding a kyber crystal and constructing your lightsaber is an important step on your path to being a Jedi; we're all proud of you."

Ezra's face warmed at the attention. "Thanks," he mumbled. "Though I wouldn't have even made it this far without you."

"He's right, love," Hera said. "This isn't just about Ezra's achievement – you're a great teacher for him."

"The best," Ezra agreed.

"To Ezra and Kanan!" Sabine toasted.

"Yeah, yeah," Zeb said. "Can we eat now? The smell is making my mouth water."

With a laugh, they all set about eating their stew. It was delicious. As they ate, each person found themself thinking the same thing: sure, the meal had been perfect before, but just like their crew, it was even better with Ezra's addition.

[wonderlandcrown]

𝐼𝑛 𝐴 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑂𝑓 𝑀𝑦 𝑂𝑤𝑛

𝑉𝑖𝑙 𝑋 𝑌𝑢𝑢(𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)

a/n : second fic on here woohoo. take a look into your future with the worldwide famous actor, model and influencer : Vil Schoenheit!! Future au so Vil is 22 here, reader is younger but is over 18. Reader referred to as "Yuu, you, they/them prns" yuu's name was saved as "my saviour" ever since they broke into Styx to rescue Vil. Talking abt getting kids haha who said that

genre : fluff and romance(established relationship)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚♛♡♕˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Cats and rabbits Would reside in fancy little houses And be dressed in shoes and hats and trousers In a world of my own

It's two o'clock, the director has just called for a break. Vil was filming a new movie all the way over at the Queendom of Roses, it's supposed to be a live action version of one of the classics animation films made in the queendom. Though Vil usually disliked live actions(he thought them uncreative cash grabs), he'll admit the writing for this wasn't as bad as he imagined.

Vil was playing as the villain's younger brother this time, the tritagonist. A refreshing break from all his villain roles, the White King was graceful, otherworldly, and a hidden taste for violence, you had teased that Vil was basically playing himself.

Vil stood by the catering section, taking a gulp of water along with his vitamin supplements. He scrolled through his phone checking for messages, there were some from Rook, they haven't lost contact even after graduation, in fact they text each other more often now that they don't see each other as often.

Rook had sent some pictures of his recent excavation site, along with candid shots of the team he was currently working with. Most of the team members had surprised, or- scared, expressions while Rook still had that same familiar smile. Vil sent him a reminder to not freak out his new acquaintances too much.

There was also Epel, he had only recently finished his 4th year internship and is now taking a break in his hometown, helping his family. Epel had grown so much ever since Vil took him under his wing during NRC, it makes Vil a little sentimental, only a little.

Epel had sent Vil the monthly supplies of apple juice and apples(Epel was here to visit Deuce anyways)to the hotel he was currently staying at, Vil received the pictures of boxes at the hotel doorstep.

Vil then decided to chat with Yuu,

my queen💜 : dear, epel just sent the apples and apple juice to our doorstep, did you receive them?

my saviour🤭 : (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ʸᴱˢ

my saviour🤭 : I brought them inside alrd

my queen💜 : make yourself something to eat with the apples, a fruit salad would do nicely as an afternoon snack.

my queen💜 : assuming you had finished your lunch

my saviour🤭 : uhhhhhh

Vil sighs as he sees the last message, really, you're not incapable of not taking care of yourself when he's not around, so why does it seem like so.

my queen💜 : love. answer me

seen 2:13 p.m

Seen? How could you leave your jaw dropping, gorgeous, caring, considerate fiancé on seen?! You better have a good reason for leaving THE Vil Schoenheit on seen or he'll-

Vil's internal monologue of rage was cut short by a sudden *ping*, you had sent a photo of... A cat wearing a pink bow. Definitely not Grim.

my queen💜 : yuu. explain. now.

my saviour🤭 : I found it outside the hotel ╥﹏╥

my queen💜 : 1, emoticons don't work on me. 2, why did you bring it into our hotel room

my saviour🤭 : I alrd gave Dinah a bath thoo ://

my saviour🤭 : she's clean I swear🙏🙏

Vil can practically feel his blood pressure rising.

my queen💜 : so you decided to postpone your lunch to take care of a mangy stray cat?

my saviour🤭 : yeahh😘(plz don't be mad plzplzplzplzplzzpzl)

my queen💜 : fine just.. remember to eat, and don't let it go in our shared bedroom

my saviour🤭 : you're gonna lose your head when you learn where me and Dinah are rn

Vil then decided that putting down his phone for the time being would be a wondrous decision, for the sake of his sanity and blood pressure.

All the flowers Would have very extra-special powers They would sit and talk to me for hours When I'm lonely in a world of my own

Vil wasn't very fond of the idea of making small talk with any of the cast members during production, in his opinion, it would've affected his filming. It's the actor's job to bring the character to life for the audience, anything less than that should be classified as a sub par children's play.

Though Vil did make an exception for his lovely Yuu that seemed to love causing him migraines(and Rook, but the latter would still drop by unannounced even if Vil told him no)

That didn't make the actor any less surprised when you showed up with a bouquet of purple hyacinths.

"You're so lucky you managed to show up during our break time. If it was during filming I would've kicked you out."

"First of all, no you wouldn't. Second of all, I memorized your schedule, so this was planned. "

Vil huffed, he's not surprised you memorized his schedule, you've been doing that ever since you two got engaged.

"Nevermind, I'm more interested in the reason for your visit, and the purple hyacinths too... You do know what the flower symbolizes, no?"

Purple hyacinths. Forgiveness

You shuffled your feet and held the bouquet a little bit tighter, suddenly anxious. "Uh, yeah, you seemed really angry yesterday.. You've left me on seen.."

Great seven, Yuu, your worried face is honestly adorable. Vil almost forgave you for the bringing in the stray cat when you made that expression, but he steeled his nerves and pretended to not be affected.

"Hmph, what did you expect? You brought back a stray cat without my permission into OUR hotel room." Vil emphasizes the word our as he crosses his arms, how could you not ask for his opinion beforehand?

"Y-yeah, I'm sorry, but it was raining and-," You suddenly cut yourself off, realizing Vil was raising an eyebrow, this isn't the time for that, my dear. "No, no, that's an excuse.. I'm sorry, I got these flowers for you."

You push the bouquet of hyacinths towards Vil, they were wrapped in a light yellow silk cloth and tied together by a black ribbon. A sight for sore eyes, Vil admits. He takes the flowers from your hands and starts looking closely at the bouquet, trying to find fault among the flowers(he likes being petty okay?), but he finds none whatsoever.

"You're forgiven, and you can keep Dinah, just don't let her on the bed."

The joy on your face could almost match the one on the day Vil proposed to you, his heart melts at the sight, and this time he doesn't hide his affectionate smile. Yuu may be magicless but Vil swears that their smile has some special power.

There'd be new birds Lots of nice and friendly how-de-do birds Everyone would have a dozen blue birds

A month had passed since Vil had started filming, he was given a break by the director. His character doesn't show up until the climax scene from this point on, and a child actor was called in to play the kid version of the White King during the backstory sequence.

This was enough for Vil to make up for lost time with Yuu.

You were standing outside the filming studio, holding Dinah in your arms, and Vil could see the silhouette of Grim inside the limousine, no doubt feasting on caviar and the fancy tuna you loved to buy for the little glutton. Vil was holding a vase of the hyacinths you'd given to him a while ago, he still managed to take care of the flowers while filming.

"We're gonna go to the park." You announce once Vil was inside the limo, Grim looks up from his very, very messy plate, "Myah? Why not a restaurant? The queendom's food is kinda bland, but the Great Grim makes it a point to eat the local cuisine of any place he goes to!"

Vil sighs, adjusting the vase of hyacinths on his lap, "You have enough on your plate already.. And I meant that literally."

"It's peaceful and makes a nice picnic spot, I had already visited there once and I thought you'd like it, take a break from the usual bustling crowd you have to deal with, y'know?" A beautiful smile graces your face as you say that, and Vil suddenly feels rejuvenated, as if he didn't spend an entire month filming.

"You're as thoughtful as ever, dear."

After a while, the limo stopped at a red light, you turned your head towards the window and saw up on a tree, a family of blue swallows.

You were silent for a while, craning your neck to stare at the swallows, it made Vil curious too. Though he had to squint to take a good look at them as he was sitting parallel to you.

Vil could make out at least two smaller swallows, one of the older ones was sitting still while another was focused on the children.

"There's still an unhatched egg." You whisper, you were still focused on that small family of birds. Vil couldn't understand why, he thought of asking Grim but the latter wasn't making eye contact with him for some reason. (usually Grim would be bugging Vil to buy him stuff)

For some reason, Vil feels like he was left out of a very important conversation.

Within that world of my own I could listen to a babbling brook And hear a song that I could understand I keep wishing it could be that way Because my world would be a wonderland

The chauffeur had dropped you all off at the park, Vil had entrusted him to take care of his prized hyacinths for the time being, you told Grim to "take care of your little sister Dinah", to which he responded with grumbles and protests against the term "little sister". That left you alone with your fiancé, Vil Schoenheit.

As you sit on the picnic mat taking plates and sandwiches out of the basket, Vil approached you with a question. "You were acting weird in the car." "..Huh?"

Your confused face seemed so genuine that Vil was already second guessing what he saw, "You heard me, is there something you want to tell me? Is it about birds?"

A blush creeps onto your face, which Vil mistakes for embarrassment. "I don't mind if you want to adopt some birds, my dear, but you have to keep in mind that you already own a cat and a gluttonous direbeast, I don't want to see you heartbroken if either one decides that your new pet is going to make their next meal-,"

"It's not about birds!" You suddenly blurt aloud, you were lucky that the park isn't a popular tourist spot, because that definitely would've turned some heads.

Vil blinks in surprise, "Sorry..? Wait- no, Yuu, what do you mean this isn't about birds?"

You were blushing like a tomato now, "The- the birds... This isn't about birds Vil.." You cover your face with your hands, keeping whatever else you had to say muffled.

"Yuu, I can't hear anything if you do that." Vil furrowed his brows, whatever you had to say was clearly important, it made Vil worried.

"..."

"Yuu?" Don't do this to your fiancé, please. Vil has absolutely no idea what's going on, what do you want to tell him??? He takes your hand away and cradles it using his own, the soft gesture making you raise your head.

"Yuu. Please." Vil Schoenheit has picked up the skill of reading people over the years as an actor, model and influencer, but still he failed to read his beloveds current feelings.

"..How do you feel about children?"

Vil feels like he was thrown into an alternate universe.

"That's what you were thinking about?" Vil chooses his words carefully, or as carefully as a person can be when one's beloved thought that he would be adverse to the idea of kids.

"My love, if you wanted to have a talk about that you could've done it anytime, and no need to be so shy." Vil says steadily while using his free hand to tilt your head up, you were reminding him of how you were during your school days.

"But you were busy with filming.. And I had barely begun the wedding preparations! didn't seem right to discuss the idea of children when we are barely adults.."

Your eyes darted around, and for a while Vil was silent, the river near the spot you had chosen made its presence known.

"Well.. You're not wrong, this isn't really the most suitable time for us to have children.. But there was no need for your shyness, my love, I'm not going to leave you just because of something like that."

Vil sat down beside you on the picnic mat, your hand still in his, he tilted his head to take a look at you.

"...Thanks, Vil." Your reply was barely audible, but Vil heard it just fine.

"You're always welcome, dear."

Vil Schoenheit is an actor, model and influencer, but he is also a son, a friend, and a partner, and truth be told he values the last three roles more than the others, especially the role of Yuu's partner.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

a/n : got a little angsty at the end whoops. tell me in the comments or reblogs if you wanna be tagged in chapter 3

[revehae]

weak (r. fantasies)

warnings: smut, noncon, virgin!jisung x (f) anemic!reader, drugging

wc. 990

i been writing this on and off for 24 days and youre telling me its only 990 words im not a serious person at all… fake news its longer now cause i suddenly added one (1) sentence. thank you @neocentral for holding a gun to my head

for two entire days, jisung was antsy. even the mere thought of you, no matter how brief, made a cool wind sweep over his shoulders and his gut tighten uncomfortably.

he knew what he was going to do, and he knew how he was going to do it, but even more so, he knew that it was wrong.

but if he knew that it was wrong, then why did he resolve himself to do it anyway? why did he smile in your face as if he didn’t know that he was about to hurt you? why didn’t he give jeno back his stuff, instead of holding onto it all this time?

jisung didn’t have any idea what it was, other than what jeno had told him while pressing the tiny bag into his chest. colorless, odorless, tasteless, and she’ll be out long enough for you to do all the dirty, perverted stuff you’re too scared to do while she’s awake.

but the truth was that compared to the thought of doing it while you were awake, this terrified jisung tenfold. would it still hurt you, bother you? would you feel the soreness between your thighs and instantly know what he had done? would you hate him more because you wouldn’t remember?

those were the thoughts hurtling through his head when you got up to use the bathroom. but if he was going to do it, he had to act quickly. your nightstand was littered with prescriptions pills and jisung knew you took the iron supplements every night. he poured the powder into your water bottle, watching it disappear as he shook it.

jisung’s heart raced at a rhythm he never knew could be possible when you came back and grabbed a hold of your water bottle. you didn’t make a face, drinking it like nothing was the matter. and he was surprised by how quickly you were out. in the few minutes it took to take effect, you didn’t even have time to become sleepy.

for a long minute, jisung didn’t even seem to remember why he had done this anymore. he was staring at your face, poking your cheek to see if you would react, but you didn’t stir. he worried that maybe you were dead, but when he put his finger to the base of your neck, there was still a normal pulse.

jisung’s breath quickened when he realized all of the things he could do to you right now. he didn’t dive in headfirst like he thought he would, his fingers absentmindedly trailing your soft skin first. he started with your neck, since his hand was already there, gently tightening his fingers around it. he wanted to mark you so badly, but he couldn’t.

he brought his thump up to your bottom lip, overcome by the formerly suppressed urge to kiss you, and with nothing to stop him, he pressed his lips to yours. he was mildly annoyed that you couldn’t kiss him back, but on the bright side, he still had the opportunity to touch you.

to do all the dirty, perverted stuff he was too scared to do while you were awake, as jeno put it.

his words always echoed in jisung’s head, influencing him in ways that were less than healthy. you could easily take her, if you weren’t so weak in the knees, jeno would tease, nudging jisung painfully. she’s anemic, for fuck’s sake. she can’t be that strong. 

jisung pulled back to gape at you in your night gown. he always thought you looked good in them. the way they gave away your collarbone and the little lace ribbon where your cleavage stopped, and the way the cute sleeves cuffed at your wrists was endearing to him.

but right now, as he gingerly bunched up the dress and caught sight of your lilac, cotton panties, the only thing he could think about was how desperately he ached to be inside you, to feel your sticky, throbbing walls cling around his virgin cock. to prove that he wasn’t a coward, that he wasn’t weak like you were. 

and for that reason, he couldn’t be slow and steady anymore. he knew there was no clock on him, nothing pacing him and nothing threatening to tear him away from the warmth of you, but his self-restraint had already worn thin and he was running on empty.

jisung convinced himself that you wanted him as he sheathed himself deep inside you with a guttural groan, every impatient inch of him. it may not have come from your mouth, but the slick somewhat facilitating his entry was answer enough. you may not have known what was happening, but your body was hyper aware.

god, jisung’s was, too. he couldn’t resist the tight squeeze, the way your pussy gripped him for dear life, and he tipped his head forward as his hands gripped your thighs to anchor himself before he fell too deep. even they were warm, the most cute and supple pair.

his eyes were completely closed, winced shut at the first pulse of your warm and tight cunt around his dick. he knew you would have loved him, if you could feel him. he knew he was big enough to please you. the guys too often teased him, saying he had all those inches, but not a hint of what to do with any.

but jisung knew right now. driving his hips passionately into yours, big hands clasping at your soft, moisturized skin, he knew he could make you feel things unimaginable. the sounds you were unknowingly yanking out of his throat, he could easily pull out of you. the way his face tensed with pleasure, he was certain he could make short work of you, too. 

“so weak,” jisung whispered into deaf ears, burying his face in your neck, and breathing in your ravishing scent. he imagined you calling him sungie like you always did, and it only made him grunt. “it’s okay. i’ll protect you. like i always have.”

[sgiandubh]

Looking for balance

People have been asking for years that she would name McGill in the same sentence as 'husband'. This happened, after almost six years of marital bliss #shitshow, which is (how can I properly put it?) at least peculiar. And yes, I am still perfectly unfazed - because you see, promo also means being as consensual as possible. In this regard, it would seem the lessons of that costly, (in)famous Vanity Fair interview have been learned. But also that her fresh, organic image the veterans of this fandom so much enjoyed is probably gone.

Among all the interviews she so liberally (and rather proportionally with the big budget of The Amateur) offered, the most interesting one was for Io Donna the woman weekly supplement of the big Italian newspaper Corriere della Sera. It was posted across the street and they were unable to read, let alone understand it. They imagine we were as parochial and dumb as they are, so I said 'hold my beer' and translated it for you.

[Source: https://www.iodonna.it/personaggi/star-internazionali/2025/04/08/caitriona-balfe-protagonista-con-rami-malek-in-operazione-vendetta/ - 8 April 2025]

This time, we are talking about a widespread, very prestigious European media outlet. Not a Swiss news portal, bearing also in mind that Switzerland is a market seven times less important, in terms of audience, than Italy.

Anyways, there goes - my own translation, thank you:

Caitriona Balfe, star of 'The Amateur': 'I'm Frustrated by Injustice in the World' A former model and aspiring director, she is best known for her role as Claire Fraser in the television series Outlander. by Michaela K. Bellisario

"They made Rami run around a lot. We shot the escape scene so many times that we ended up joking about it." Caitriona Balfe, 45, actress and supermodel, is one of the two female leads (the other is Rachel Brosnahan) in The Amateur with Rami Malek, an American spy action thriller directed by James Hawes, based on the 1981 novel of the same name by Robert Littell, in theaters starting April 10.

Malek is a CIA code breaker who works in the basement of the Langley headquarters in the United States. His life is turned upside down when his wife is killed in a terrorist attack in London. When his supervisors refuse to act, he embarks on a dangerous journey around the world to track down the real perpetrators of the attack and avenge his wife. Caitriona Balfe is the widow of another agent and helps Malek using her computer skills.

Caitriona Balfe in The Amateur : "I accepted the movie because we were going to shoot in Marseille and Istanbul"

For Caitriona Balfe, originally from Dublin, this is a new role . The actress is best known for her role as Claire Fraser in the TV series Outlander, for which she won a BAFTA Scotland, two People's Choice Awards and two Saturn Awards, and received four consecutive Golden Globe nominations for Best Actress in a Drama Series. In 2021, alongside Jamie Dornan, she starred in the film Belfast, written and directed by Kenneth Branagh.

Caitriona Balfe, what made you take this role? I liked the idea of ​​​​measuring up to a character so different from the others played to date. And then I was attracted by the possibility of working with Rami Malek and the director James Hawes, who I admire for the series Slow Horses. Last but not least, I confess, the fact that it was shot in Istanbul and Marseille. After all those years in Scotland ...

In fact, you basically worked and lived in Scotland for the TV series Outlander. Yes, that's eleven years in total. Intense and beautiful years. But, of course, every now and then changing location doesn't hurt, especially if I think of my colleagues who, instead, shoot for example, I don't know, in exotic locations (laughs).

Caitriona Balfe: "Rami Malek Gave Me So Much Advice" You have long scenes with Rami Malek, the “avenger”, especially those where you run to escape from the “enemies”, can you tell us a behind-the-scenes anecdote? If you mean the escape scene, we repeated it five times, it must have been three in the morning on a cold January night in Marseille. An adventure… Malek is a very generous professional and gave me a lot of advice. I arrived on the set when the shooting was already underway, it always takes a few moments of orientation to fit in and Rami supported me at every moment.

What is the message of this action thriller: revenge or peace? The film seems to be focused on revenge, Rami tries in every possible way to avenge his wife's assassination by occult terrorist forces. But during his long escape around the world, a bit like in a hero's journey, he understands that after all revenge is only the starting point of what he is doing. He understands the only thing that makes sense is to discover the truth and he wants justice to be served.

Food for thought in such a troubled moment of global politics… Exactly. In our world, these two levels, revenge and aspiration towards justice, are often confused. Yours is an interesting question we should all ask ourselves at this moment in time. I liked my character because she chose truth instead of revenge. And she has a positive influence on the character played by Rami Malek.

Caitriona Balfe: "I'm frustrated by injustice"

What makes you call for revenge? Everything! I am a Libra and I am looking for harmony in everything. I am frustrated by the lack of empathy between people, yet we are all interconnected, equal, we should treat each other with love and compassion. The same goes for animals and the environment. Everything would be easier, right? Instead, it seems to be the most difficult thing in the world. I was talking about it with a friend just today. You reach a certain point in life where you understand that the only important thing is love for all sentient beings.

Let's take a step back in time: you were a supermodel in the 90s and then you made your debut in The Devil Wears Prada… As I always say… I didn’t actually act in the film. I was an extra, one of the many girls who sashay in and out of the editorial office. But at least I had the chance to meet Meryl Streep. Even becoming a model was the result of chance. I was eighteen and studying acting in Dublin when I was noticed. I was able to live in Japan, France, Germany… ten years of discoveries.

"I'm interested in nourishing the soul"

You have tried directing on Outlander's set. Yes, I would love to end up behind the camera again, I am interested in exploring storytelling and narratives. Ultimately, thousands of years ago, when we were all cavemen, we told stories around the fire. For an actor, that is perhaps the most interesting side of it, because we are limited in the roles we play. Directing will make me able to tell stories in a much broader way.

How do you balance your private life with your professional life? Since I had a son, everything has become much more complicated. But it's not a problem, he is my priority. For the first three years of his life I worked a lot, now I've decided to take some time for us to be together, also because he will start school and we will have to find a new balance.

What do you do in your free time? I explore my creative side. I try to practice yoga. Nourishing the soul is definitely the most important task we have.'

***

I took the liberty to put in italics the answers I considered way more interesting, and perhaps even honest, than the rest. Her Stans should definitely take a deep look at what she said about empathy (or rather lack thereof), equality and her ultimately feeling that people are interconnected - all things I have particularly found Mordor wanting, especially considering their uncanny brutality and love of insults.

Corriere della Sera is a far more liberal media outlet than FOX, so the message of her points of talk was tailored to align with its values: yoga, compassion, empathy, environment and animal rights, tolerance and connection, injustice of the actual global context (subtly so, always as far as she is concerned). Again, no surprise and a clearly more serious, better adjusted image for the (perhaps more sophisticated) given audience. All you need is love, insomma: there's nothing more consensual than that, there's nothing less encouraging to probe further the real C behind the mask, Oriana Fallaci style.

I was not surprised, then, to see no mention of McGill, whatsoever. This is, at any rate, rarely done in European media of this level and importance, unless the story is compelling. She seems now entirely focused on Blonde Bambino, who (in her own words) has become 'her priority' (but, but...oooh, LOL) . That was the golden opportunity to mention McGill in a very positive, indisputable context, yet she did not take it - I really wonder why. Oh, and in case you wonder, the 'us' in 'I decided to take some time for us' refers, in my humble opinion, exclusively to her and Blonde Bambino. This being reinforced by her mentioning she worked a lot on Outlander and her will to spend more one on one time with him before he'd start school.

The contrast is clear. Different messages for different markets: she is a human being, not a batch of Skyr. However, it is with deep nostalgia (and also a wide grin) that I noticed the website also linked to a July 2016 interview of hers to the same newspaper, for the people who had time to kill and were willing to know more about her story. Lo and behold, here is what I found:

[Source: https://www.iodonna.it/personaggi/interviste-gallery/2016/07/15/caitriona-balfe-sono-uneroina-romantica-ma-non-ho-tempo-per-lamore/]

My translation: 'Caitriona Balfe: I am a romantic heroine, but I don't have time for love. On the TV screen, I have two husbands, but in my own life I've got none', jokes the actress, star of the cult series Outlander. She is talking to us about 'real sensuality', passion and feeling embarrassed. And she tells us why she'll never go to Paris with any fiancé'.

My translation: 'From the Scottish Highlands to the 1750's Paris: how much does the script weigh on the acting?

The Scottish Highlands are wild lands, the intensity of the landscape and the events of that time are encouraging Claire and Jamie's passion. Then, Paris does create strong tensions. I don't know if you have already went to the French capital while being in love: it's such a pressure to love each other, that it always ends in fighting' (laughs).

Of course, the rest is paying lip service to the narrative, but what about the trolls across the street for whom McGill was already the chosen one, by then (as if, heh... as if...)?

Stop lying. You're not doing her any good.

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: We’re going deeper and darker on this one, with an ending you might not expect...

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. TW: attempted sexual assault (not successful), violence, character death, drug use, and a twist.

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Part 5: Eminence Front

Your last conversation with your mother was on a Sunday morning, in hospice.

You sat at her bedside and held her hand. Chris and your father were downstairs in the hospital food court, ordering sandwiches. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for three days.

“I had your father call the whole family so they could watch the music video with you and Soldier Boy,” your mom said. She wore a proud, if weak smile. “He even recorded a few tapes of it. He sent one to your aunt, another to your cousins, and another to our friends Leah and Stan.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal piracy, Mom,” you said with a laugh.

“I don’t care. You’re my daughter, and you’ve worked incredibly hard to get here,” she said. Her eyes misted over a bit in memory. “We’ve all worked hard.”

You stilled at that. You didn’t know what memories she had filtering through her head, but you were sure your perspective behind the lens was…different.

In your mind’s eye, you saw yourself at twelve years old. Chris had been pestering you all day, as big brothers were wont to do sometimes. With a slap on his arm, you’d screamed at him to leave you alone.

He didn’t speak to you for a whole month. He didn’t go to your piano recital or your choir concert, where you had the best solo. He didn’t talk to you until you touched him again, grabbing his arm, pleading with him.

"Please, whatever I did, I'm sorry. Just talk to me!"

He startled as if he’d woken up from a dream.

Your parents had shared a look, and they’d known then that their gamble had worked.

You remembered being sat down by your mother and told that they had spent their entire life’s savings to make you a hero. So you were going to spend the rest of your young life training to be one.

“We’re investing in your future, but we’re also investing in ours.”

You remembered sleepover invites rejected and summer plans canceled on your behalf. Your mother used her meager retirement fund to sign you up for vocal lessons from a former opera singer. Your high school football coach father drilled you to condition your body like an athlete.

You never had a moment that wasn’t scheduled. You were always exhausted, taking whatever “supplements” your parents gave you to keep you going. (Often it was Adderall, until it started giving you insomnia, among other delightful side effects.)

You were miserable. Then again, you’d be surprised by what you could get used to.

The end goal was always getting into Payback. It was where you’d garner the most fame and make the most money, and therefore, make the most returns on your parents’ investments.

So your father later took out a loan to get you some basic combat training from an ex-Vought employee. Your parents wanted you to be well-rounded and prepared for anything when you got onto the team—and it was always when.

If was not part of the story.

Any small commercials and modelling gigs you landed throughout middle school and high school helped pay for your family’s bills, and later for college, where you double majored in Vocal Performance and Marketing. You would learn how to become your own brand.

Through it all, you always remembered what your mom had said to you on the set of your first commercial. You were crying because the hours were long and you missed your friends, and even your brother.

“Come on, let’s wipe those tears. You don’t want to smudge your makeup,” she’d said. When you couldn’t be consoled, she guided you over to a quieter corner of the set. “Listen, sweetheart. Don’t let them see you upset. You'll get a reputation for being difficult to work with.”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said, sniffling badly as you scrubbed at your eyes. Your mother sighed sharply.

“You’re just starting out. Of course there are going to be growing pains,” she said. “Showbusiness is a cutthroat world, and yes, you’re so young. Maybe too young.”

She wiped your face with gentler hands, then she laid them on your shoulders and made sure you met her eyes.

“But you’re going to be better prepared than most superheroes. You can literally read men. You know what’s in their hearts, and you can control them. As a woman in this world, do you know how damn powerful that is?” she said.

She squeezed your shoulders.

“That’s why you’ll be smarter than any of them, and you’ll only show the world what you want them to see.”

What you want them to see…

“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” you said at last.

Your mom nodded and stroked your hand. Her eyes fell closed in rest. She looked so small and frail in her bed.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” she said. “Always remember that.”

Your lower lip trembled, and your eyes stung. You couldn’t help but feel hollow. What was there to be proud of? You’d failed. All your hard work was meant to give your family a better life, not…this.

“You’re so beautiful and talented,” she continued. “And you’ll get your father out from under these medical bills I put on him, won’t you?”

Deep in your soul, a painful ache twinged.

You ignored it and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll take care of Dad, don’t worry.”

Your mother died the next morning. You wrote a statement about her passing to explain your absence to your fans. It went through Madelyn Stillwell and Arthur before they released the press release and even had it covered in Vought News. Then you spent the next week entrenched in funeral arrangements with your father and brother.

When you eventually returned to Vought Tower after the funeral, it felt like another part of you had chipped off.

Your room was filled with flowers and gifts from your fans, which managed to make you wide-eyed, and even tearfully touched. So this was the power of fame, then?

But there was one vase filled with beautiful scarlet roses. Attatched was a handwritten note:

Welcome home.

You thought you recognized the scrawl. A small smile graced your lips.

You gave into the desire to venture up to the penthouse floor, and knock on Ben’s door. He opened it himself. He was dressed down for once in the afternoon, in a normal sweater rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his slacks. Once he saw you, he was a little surprised.

You held up the note for his view. “Was this you?”

He smiled slightly, but he didn’t answer you. He just welcomed you inside. You followed him into the living room area and sat heavily on the couch. An album was playing on his record player. You recognized Sinatra’s smooth voice singing “My Way.”

“You want a drink?” Ben asked.

“Whiskey, neat,” you replied. He rose a brow, but he fulfilled your request.

While he was busy, you grabbed his forgotten half a blunt from the ashtray on the coffee table, and you lit up. You didn’t often partake in drugs because you didn’t like being out of your lucid mind. You preferred being in control.

Today was different. You needed a distraction. Maybe that was why you were here to begin with.

You accepted the glass he handed to you and took a generous sip, though you coughed at the burn on the way down. And you took a puff, the smoke irritating your throat even more. You practically coughed up half a lung, until he sat down beside you and reached out his hand. You passed the blunt back to him. You two traded off hits until it was more than halfway down to the roach, and he eventually put it out on the ashtray.

“My offer still stands, you know,” he said.

You turned to him. Even in your “enlightened” state, you could feel his intentions. The way he roamed your body with his eyes was unmistakable, but just then, you had a moment of clarity. You couldn’t be bothered to play this game, or hide your true thoughts for that matter. You smiled to yourself, and you stood.

Ben got up with you, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Thank you,” you said, “for finally showing me who you really are.”

His lips slowly pulled into a frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“My mom died,” you said. “I know you knew that, but you couldn’t even muster up a basic ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or whatever the fuck.”

You even laughed through the spark of tears. You wiped at your face. “This place is exactly what I thought it would be.”

The man was silent while you finished the drink in one long gulp. You slammed the glass on his counter, and you left his apartment.

It wasn’t the first time Ben watched you walk away from him, but despite his outward stoicism, it was the first time he felt the sting of it.

You knew it would be difficult at Vought, but you were finding it more and more challenging to keep focused as the months went by.

On one mission, Ben threw a man out of a three-story apartment. He lived, by some miracle, but shattered almost every bone in his body.

On another, Black Noir choke-slammed an escaped convict so hard, her esophagus caved in. And it was a good day if the TNT Twins even zapped the right culprit.

You were increasingly wary of the collateral damage and violence you were being complicit in, just by being there. You had to keep reminding yourself of why you were here. You needed to take care of your father, who was still swimming in your mother’s medical bills and funeral costs. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do this, with or without Ben’s help.

Even so, a day you were called to a full team mission made you more anxious than excited.

It was a drug ring that the police had been trying to dismantle for nearly a decade: Los Reyes. They were the "kings of cocaine," and they were brutal in their retaliations, locked in a turf war with one of the Italian mafias. As Stan Edgar had explained, the police were grateful for any help that Payback could provide.

You guys were sent to a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. According to law enforcement intel, it was the base of the Reyes gang's operations.

Infiltrating it was the easy part. Countess blasted right through the front doors, revealing your entire team to the group of men huddled around entire tables and crates filled with product.

When a man aimed a gun at you, Ben threw his shield. It hit the man, who then crashed into a support beam and broke his back in half. Your eyes went wide in horror at seeing his lifeless ones. You gaped up at Ben.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked in alarm.

"Would you rather get shot?” he said coolly.

The others picked off a few men in the room, but the rest of the gang scattered into other rooms within the large building. Ben barked commands for who should go in which direction.

“Sirena, you’re with Swatto. Head east towards the alley and cut off any rats,” he commanded.

You wanted to take issue with being partnered with Swatto. You glanced over at him. After how you compelled him a few months ago, he still had a grudge against you as well. But you two knew better than to argue with Soldier Boy on a mission.

You and your partner ducked out the east side into the alley. Sure enough, you saw blood splatters on the wall from a handprint, and drips of blood leading down the concrete path. After sharing a nod, you and Swatto followed the line of blood.

You turned the corner into a dusty construction site, where a new skyscraper was only partially built. Some walls were up along with the foundation, but it was mostly dirt, bare concrete walls, and piles of brick.

When you turned a corner, you and Swatto stopped short as bullets rained your way.

“Oh, fuck!” Swatto shouted. He pulled out his gun and decided to fly above. You heard more shots and men screaming, and then, it was quiet. You cocked your own gun, though you hoped you didn’t have to use it. The problem with your powers was you needed to be close enough to touch someone to actually compel them, man or woman.

Your last resort was your actual siren song, a power you rarely used. Mainly because it was lethal to any man who heard it. For that reason, it had to be your in case of emergency break glass tactic.

So you crept around the corner to see what Swatto had done. You were surprised to find that he fought well. He managed to kill a few of them, but one large man was still alive. He was on his knees in the dirt with his hands folded behind his head.

“See? Ain’t so fuckin’ tough now, huh?” Swatto taunted. “Get ready to get fucked in the ass in jail, Paco.”

You grimaced in disgust. “All right, that’s enough. Just—”

Before you could realize what was happening, the man raised up from the ground and swept the gun from Swatto’s hands. It flew across the clearing and hit the wall, setting the gun off. A bullet ricocheted and grazed Swatto in the side. 

“Aw, fuck! I’m fucking hit!” he yelled in alarm. His wings expanded from his back, and he raised off the ground in flight. Your eyes widened.

“Where the hell are you going?” you shouted.

“I’m hit! I need a hospital!” His voice grew smaller as he flew away like a fucking coward.

It left you alone with a man twice your size. He seized you up with a smirk.

“Hey, baby,” he said. “You’re the new one, right?”

You raised your gun and fired, but you were too late. He evaded and grabbed the gun from your hands. You held your ground after the first punch, but the second and third made your legs shake. You were more durable than the average human, and you were well trained. Unfortunately, you didn’t have super strength like most of your teammates.

You blocked when you could and gave blows of your own, but this man was large enough that it didn’t slow him for long. He wore a sweatshirt with long sleeves, so you couldn’t easily compel him with a touch.

Okay, this warrants an emergency, you thought in alarm. When you opened your mouth to sing, he shot out a sharp blow to your throat. Maybe he thought you were going to scream for help, but it had its intended effect of choking you into silence.

He grabbed you and proceeded to beat you down, until you felt the sharp breaking of ribs and blood and dirt in your mouth. Every time you tried to slip away or get to your feet and escape, he knocked you back down. He was toying with you, and having fun with it too. You could sense his sick enjoyment.

But then, you felt his intentions shift. Darker, and more carnal. A more intense fear coiled in your stomach, rising up into your throat. A gasp got stuck there as you tried harder to crawl away.

He grabbed your ankle and dragged you back towards him. He took your wrists when you tried to claw at his eyes, or even just touch his face to try and enforce your power over his.

Just a scrap of skin. That’s all you need.

A whimper escaped you as you struggled, but you kneed him hard between the legs. That managed to stop him for a moment as he grunted and cursed. He got a hold of a meaty hand around your neck. Your eyes glowed in desperation.

Suddenly, the man’s weight lifted off you.

You panted for breath and raised yourself up on your elbow. You watched with wide eyes as Ben slammed your attacker’s face into the dirt until he couldn’t breathe. Ben glanced at you, taking in the sight of your bloody face and cut lip, your arm wrapped around your battered ribs.

His frown deepening in displeasure, he bent the man’s arm until it broke in at least two places. His howls of pain echoed into the night. Ben cut it off by twisting the man’s neck, until it released a loud crack.

He threw the body to the ground in disgust. He barely even wiped his gloves before he stood straighter. Then he went back to you.

“You all right?” he asked gruffly.

You stared up at him with tears shining in your eyes. You tried to answer, but it hurt your throat. It was also painful for you to move your body. You tasted blood in your mouth and knew it had dribbled down your chin.

With a rough exhale through his nose, Ben lowered down and slid his hands underneath your body. You cringed and cried out when he moved you, but you were grateful. You were embarrassed. And you were exhausted.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you folded your arms over your battered middle. You couldn't help but lay your head against his chest.

The rest of the team was waiting at the other end of the clearing, except for Swatto. Even Countess was quiet as she watched Ben carry you out of the construction site.

You spent a couple of days in the hospital. There you were surrounded by Vought security fielding off any journalists or tabloids, and you were accompanied by your dad and brother.

Chris especially was angry for you, not to mention worried, but you tried to hide your pain and reassure them that you would be okay. This was just par for the course when taking down the bad guys.

Yeah, that one sounded hollow, even to you.

You were grateful when you got out of the hospital and were sent back to the Tower. Even so, the doctor had you mostly on bedrest until your ribs healed up. You weren’t proud of it, but you wallowed in your embarrassment and a bit of self-pity while you watched a marathon of Cheers and ate from a box of assorted chocolates. You dug around for your favorites, but you kept getting the weird shitty filling ones.

“Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came,” sang the TV show theme song. “You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name…” 

“Bullshit,” you muttered aloud. Such was your grouchiness that you had half a mind to change the channel. This godforsaken sitcom was too damn cheery, no matter how much you loved Ted Danson’s fine, rugged ass.

God. Maybe I do have a type.

That was when a knock at the door threatened to disrupt your solitude.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

You’d now recognize that smooth, deep voice anywhere. Sighing, you closed the box of chocolates and hid them under your pillow before you turned off the TV.

“Come in,” you said.

Ben stepped into your apartment and soon found you in your room. It was the first time he’d ever been in here, and he took a subtle look around. He wore his suit and tactical gear.

“Just come from a mission?” you asked.

He nodded and approached your bed. He smiled slightly.

“Eating your feelings in Whitman’s, huh?” he teased, tapping his nose. He could probably smell the chocolate.

You blushed and crossed your arms on reflex, but you grimaced when the motion made your ribs twinge sharply. You made a sound of discomfort and lowered your arms back to your sides. You shifted in the bed as slowly as you could. You’d been in this position for a while.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m peachy,” you groused. When you looked up at him though, you realized that he hadn't needed to come visit you. He was here of his own free will…and there was something you had yet to say to him. You sighed and met him with sincerity.

“Look…thank you, for saving me,” you said.

Ben inclined his head. He lowered down and sat beside you on the edge of your bed.

“You may not like how I run things here, but this is the way of it,” he said, holding your gaze. “This is the real fucking world. If you’re going to stay here, you need to get with that program, or this place is going to chew you up and spit you out.”

That fell between you two for a moment. The more you turned his words over in your mind, the more you realized that he was right, to a point. If you stayed, this was your life. You couldn’t keep handwringing. You had to be smarter.

“I’m sorry, I’m not looking very camera ready,” you said eventually. You meant it to be joking, but your voice was heavy. “I wouldn’t blame you for averting your eyes.”

You half expected him to make a joke about your black eye and torn lip. But to your surprise, Ben picked up your hand with a kind of gentleness. He raised the back of it up to his lips for a kiss. He gave you a reserved smile.

“Rest up,” he said.

He got up and strode out of your apartment. Not for the first time, he left you feeling unbalanced…and this time warm.

It took a few weeks for you to fully heal. You agreed to do an interview with Jason Carver, the anchor of Vought News. It was a bit intimidating being in yet another studio, and this was live.

The cameras aren’t there. This is just a stage like any other. You’re just…having a conversation, you coached yourself. You sat in an uncomfortable leather chair across from Jason at his desk.

When he got the green light from the producer, he kicked off the show by introducing you as his special guest.

“Can I just say, Sirena, we’re all very glad to see you’re all right,” he said, with a very convincing note of sincerity. Your abilities allowed you to read the truth.

Only show them what you want them to see.

You gave him a grateful smile.  

“Thanks, Jason. I appreciate that. It’s just…hazards of the job description, you know?” you said. “But I’m doing much better, and I’m very thankful that my team was there to support me.”

“Yes, the rest of Payback really stepped up to not only apprehend your attacker, but round up the entire Reyes gang. Is that right?” he said.

You nodded, reading the teleprompter. You were meant to go on a mini monologue about how great your team was, and how grateful you were to be a part of it. It was a script approved by Madelyn, and even Stan Edgar.

You paused, glancing over to where Arthur and Madelyn stood in the dark with the rest of the crew. They were both looking at you encouragingly, but expectant.

You took a steadying breath, and you decided to go a bit off-script.

“Well, actually, it was Soldier Boy who saved me,” you said. Jason’s brows rose at your shift in direction, but he reacted with all due interest.

“Really?” he prodded.

“Yes, he did,” you said. The memories of that night filtered through your mind with harrowing detail, including the way Ben stepped in and brutally handled that man. “He didn’t even hesitate. He just threw himself into the fray…and when it was over, he carried me to the hospital himself.”

That part wasn’t exactly true. He’d carried you over to a Vought-owned SUV, and the director of the camera crew drove you over to the hospital. You decided to gloss over that detail, and many others.

“Wow,” Jason said. He shook his head in wonder. “He truly lives up to the legend, doesn’t he?”

You smiled. “He’s more than that. Believe it or not, Soldier Boy was the first one to take me under his wing. He knew I was new to the city, so he guided me all over New York to see the sights like a tourist. Stuff I’m sure he’s seen millions of times, like Top of the Rock and Times Square. Oh, and he was also very gracious when my nephew came to visit. Got me some major brownie points for ‘Best Aunt in the World.’”

That earned you a congenial smile from your host. Your expression faded with a kind of weight in your heart.

“Ever since I got here, he’s been the one to tell it like it is, with that deep, authoritative voice of his,” you said, laughing a little when you tried to imitate Ben’s voice. It got you a laugh, even from those in the studio. “In a way, he’s the one who’s looked out for me the most. I’m very grateful for Soldier Boy, and of course for the rest of my team.”

When you finished, Jason nodded and clapped along with everyone else in the studio.

“Well, that’s just wonderful. Well said,” he said, and he looked straight into the camera with two fingers poised at his temple. “Soldier Boy, if you’re watching, we all appreciate you. And we salute you.”

Ben watched the clip from his living room with a small, incredulous smile on his face.

He wiped the remnants of white powder from his nose and sneezed. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he refocused on the screen while you talked about him. He knew you had to be playing it up for Jason and the cameras, but you also seemed so sincere.

“He’s more than that.”

After the segment was over, he enjoyed the climax of his high while sitting back on his plush sofa. He tossed up an old baseball from his collection up towards the ceiling, this one signed by Babe Ruth. He caught it when gravity pulled it back down towards his face.

That was how Donna found him when she let herself into his apartment. She was out of her suit and wearing a little red dress, one of his old favorites. She graced him with a sultry smile.

“Busy?” she asked.

“Evidently,” he said.

She pouted, almost like a little girl. She went to him and curled herself under his arm and against his chest, draping a smooth thigh over his.

“I miss you,” she purred.

He smiled wryly and turned off the TV.

“Really now?” he drawled. “Because by my calculations it’s been…what, a few months since we’ve fucked?”

Donna paused, the smile slipping from her face.

“And I’m not counting that hand job a couple weeks back. That shit was pitiful, and a little chafing,” he said.

For the past few months, he’d been wracking his brain to remember what it was that had attracted him to this woman, besides the obvious outer packaging. He knew the difference now.

In the beginning, she idolized him. Worshipped him. Loved him. These days, she only came to him when she wanted something, and he had gotten bored. Bored of her.

As if sensing his shift, Donna moved her leg off his lap and sat up with a frown.

“Well, then let me fix it,” she said, as she slid a hand up his thigh. Suddenly she was all too willing to use those red-painted lips to service him. 

Ben couldn’t help but envision those lips as yours, a sinful red, while your mouth did sinful things. He’d gotten off more than once to the thought of it alone, ever since he shot that goddamn music video with you.

So he grabbed Donna’s wandering hand and looked at her coolly.

“Look, for whatever reason, I know you’re not happy,” he said, waving dismissively with his other hand. “Neither of us are. So let’s just stop wasting time.”

Her eyes widened. “What’re you saying?”

Ben’s brows furrowed. “Am I speaking fucking English? It’s time to call it quits, sweetheart.”

Donna’s jaw worked as she fought to keep herself under control. He had a feeling she’d be angry. She always was a little spitfire.

Her body was coiled like a spring when she withdrew her hand from his and got to her feet. She gave him an icy look.

“This isn’t going to last,” she claimed, with a prideful tilt of her chin. “In a month, a week, you’ll get tired of her. And you’ll remember that I’m the one who looks best by your side.”

Ben huffed in amusement before he laid back again. He continued to toss up his baseball.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said dismissively. 

Donna let loose an aggravated breath, but she kept most of her reaction inside. She turned on her heel, prideful as ever, and left his apartment.

When her fingers landed on the doorknob, however, she turned back for just a moment. Silence greeted her.

It wasn’t until then that her tears finally bubbled over.

Days later, a knock on your door drew your attention out of pulling on some jeans. You were intending to go on a walk through the city, take some time to get out of the Tower and just be you for a change.

That had better not be Madelyn at the door again. She had chastised you for going off-script at the studio twice already. She made the point that she and Stan had gone over those talking points for weeks, and agreed that framing your rescue as a team effort would cover Swatto as well.

He was still laid up with a broken leg, long after the scrape of the bullet had healed. He was tight-lipped about how he’d broken said leg, but you’d heard from Tommy that he’d shattered it…somehow.

Arthur had smoothed things over about your adlib though. He pointed out that talking positively about Soldier Boy helped the whole team. He was the leader, after all.

So yeah, you hoped this visit wasn’t another passive aggressive dress down from the head of PR. You sighed and went over to get the door. You were thoroughly surprised to see Ben.

And a Ben that was wearing a regular suit, for that matter. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Hugo Boss catalogue, steeped in charcoal gray with a long black coat draped over his arm. Your mouth parted in soft shock, especially when he produced a single rose from behind his back.

You took it with tentative fingers and a blush rising hotly in your cheeks.

“Okay, what—”

“Let me take you out,” he said. “One night. You’ll get to see what it’s like to be with the most famous man in the world.”

What an opening line that was. You sensed he was in full Charm City mode, complete with a suave smile. Yours was more amused, even though you twisted the flower's soft petals lightly on your chin in contemplation.

After a few seconds to think, you gave him a patient look.

“Ben, nothing’s changed for me. I told you, I–”

“Countess and I are done, for real this time,” he said.

Once again, you were taken by surprise—mostly because he was telling the truth. You felt it.

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “When did this happen?”

“Recently,” he shrugged. “But like I said, it hasn’t been working for a while. It was a mutual thing.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but… 

This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself. In fact, it had been half what you’d hoped for when you went off-script. You just couldn’t believe it had worked this well, so soon. As much as you probably shouldn’t, part of you began to feel bad for manipulating him. For lying to him.

But it’ll be good for my career.

“…Okay,” you agreed, glancing down at your plain shirt and jeans. “Just give me some time to change.”

He raised a brow. “How much time?”

You gave him a slightly cheeky smile. “An hour, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

He sighed, but he agreed.

“Just don’t keep me waiting all fucking day,” he said.

“Come on. What’s a little delayed gratification?” you teased. Then you gave him a more sincere smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Ben nodded, with some added charm in the look he gave you in return.

You slipped back into your apartment and shut the door. You paused there when a thought struck you.

Shit, now what am I going to wear?

AN: Did you see that one coming?

A lot of darker angst and drama in this one, sorry for that. But I think you may like what's coming up...

Next Time:

You slid your hand over his on the table. You felt him stiffen slightly, his body tensing up at your touch. You frowned when you saw the glint of wariness cross his face.

“I won’t compel you again, Ben. I promise,” you said. As long as you don’t give me a reason to.

Your hand traveled up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stared into yours.

Soon enough, his wariness bled away into desire.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 6

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[deathworlders-of-e24]

Liz, Biotechnician

Part 3

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

The Vending Machine whirred softly as it produced the 5th candy bar in a row. It’d been a week since the science division had turned into a chocolate factory, but Liz wasn’t that worried. Coco didn’t have a chemical makeup that could be affected by diabetic amounts of sugar. The opposite, in fact, the little Sprygan was doing better than ever, and wasn’t so little anymore. Just like plants on Earth, botanical lifeforms needed glucose to grow, and apparently when given daily supplements of the stuff, their growth rate accelerated at frightening speeds.

Liz walked back to the lab, with a hearty Halloween’s worth of candy bars in her hands and pockets. Some crewmen gave her odd looks as she passed, but she paid them little mind. The door to the lab opened with a quick hiss.

“So we got milk, dark, white with macadamia nuts, and… what are you doing?”

Coco was standing in the center of the room, their new fuller branches seemingly vibrating. Liz thought they looked excited. The same Coco, who at the time when the mission began, was at best maybe 3 feet tall, now stood almost 5 1/2 feet in height and had a significantly thicker trunk. They were about as big as Liz was herself now, with a thicker canopy in the beginnings of bloom. They leaned in Liz’s direction, vines trembling.

“I just got a message from the bridge. There’s a uncharted planetoid in this system with a moon that might have breathable atmosphere, and they want a full ecological report written up.”

“So we’re going down there?”

“Correct! It’ll take 2 cycles to get there, but then it’s all ours!”

Liz was overjoyed! Finally, some actual field work instead of editing someone else’s papers all day. A whole new ecosystem with god knows how many new species… if it had atmosphere, of course.

Can’t get too excited yet girl, Liz thought.

“Does the moon have water?” She asked.

“Indeed.”

That’s a real good sign though, she figured.

“Can I have my chocolate now please?” Coco asked.

“Oh right, yeah, here you go,” Liz said, setting the bars on the table. Coco’s vines reached out and snatched them, taking them back into their canopy to be the plant equivalent of ‘digested’. The usual humming started up as they enjoyed their snacks. Liz wasn’t sure, but she thought she could see bark physically forming on their trunk now, or perhaps it was simply a discoloration.

“You’re sure this much sugar is good for you hon?” Liz asked, concern slowly winning out over scientific curiosity.

“The thing you call cocoa seeds are not plentiful on my planet, so I’m unsure if any Sprygan has ever had this much in such a short period of time, but I’ve never had so much energy before. My growth rate is miraculous, I’m almost completely out of my juvenile sapling stage now.”

“And that’s a… good thing?”

“Very. Saplings on my planet are the easier targets for predators. With a harder outer layer I’ll be much safer now. I’ve been composing a paper on this for days, it’ll be of great significance to Spryga.” Coco continued humming, ‘munching’ away on her candy bars.

“Well alright then, so long as you’re okay,” Liz said. “So tell me more about this moon.”

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

Deep in the Antares System, hidden from scanners by the solar radiation of the tertiary star, was a desolate little rock burnt to a crisp by stellar winds during a flare eons ago. Its moon, however, was protected from the fire while in the shadow of the planet. And so it continued to turn, with barely a few degrees changed, undisturbed.

Until now.

The Noah entered the system from WARP, keeping a safe distance from the tertiary star in case of solar flares, and settled into a comfortable orbit around the planetoid to scout the surface of the nearby moon, now being called MX13.

From the Bridge, Liz and Coco read the initial scans from various probes launched when they’d arrived.

“Gravity reads…damn, big moon,” Liz said, surprised, “9.1, just a little under galactic and Earth standard.”

“Gas spectrometer reads as breathable atmosphere to 70% of known intelligent lifeforms,” Coco read on, “but not humans. You’ll have to wear a mask Human Liz.”

“What’s the chemical makeup like?” Liz asked.

“95% methane… similar to what you call Titan in your Terran home system. Without a mask you’d have a few minutes at best before you suffocated.”

“So yeah, rebreathers are fashionable this time of year,” Liz laughed. Even the idea of suffocating in a potentially hostile ecosystem wasn’t enough to bring her spirits down. It had been ages since she’d set foot on extraterrestrial soil.

“Ahem,” grunted Skitch, as much as a bipedal bug man could go ‘ahem’ with mandibles.

“What does fashionable mean?” Coco asked quietly.

“I’ll tell you later,” Liz whispered.

Captain Skitch had been waiting off to the side for a while now while they geeked out over the moon.

“Now then,” he said, arms behind his thorax stoically, “in six rels[?] [GAIL standard term: 1 rel approximately 1 earth hour(s)] we’re sending a shuttle down to the moon to conduct the requested ecological report. Our main objective is to see if there are any lifeforms, intelligent or otherwise, living there. If it is deemed uninhabited, we’re to declare whether or not it could become a potential colony for GAIL member races.”

Liz was almost painfully excited. Uncharted habitats, potentially establishing a colony, this is what she worked 6 years in the academy for, what she lived for.

“Sir, what are we supposed to do if we do come across any lifeforms down there?” She asked.

“You know the rules. On the off chance you come across anyone intelligent, you do not get involved, you do not get seen. We’re here to record the natural evolution of the universe, nothing more.”

“There’s very little chance of that,” Coco chimed in, “the first scans of the surface are being analyzed, there doesn’t seem to be any structure of any kind on the surface, so it’s unlikely we’ll come across any sentient species.”

“On the off chance you do have an encounter, I’m assigning commander Koatil to the landing party. She’ll be in charge of everything, and has my full authority to make any judgment call she sees fit.”

As if on cue, First officer Koatil made the bridge, her thermal suit fitted with extra armor for the expedition, hiding her powder blue fur. It seemed to Liz she’d freshly sharpened the horns on top of her head as well. She’d always figured they looked like rams horns, and thought how interesting it was that Doun women were the only ones with horns in their species.

“Good to meet you both,” Koatil said. “I’m sure this’ll go smoothly for all of us, just stick with the group and everything will be fine. Permission to depart, Captain?”

“Granted.”

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

The Noah’s shuttle bay was about the size of Liz’s old high school gymnasium, vaulted ceiling and wide open space, plenty of room for the three docked shuttles. Commander Koatil stood nearby, doing her final check as bay staff loaded the shuttle with cases of the scientific instruments they’d use to analyze the moon’s ecosystem.

Liz and Coco, along with the shuttle pilot and 2 other security personnel, stood ready to board at the commander’s say. She inspected the crew going down to the moon with them. The pilot seemed fine, even had two more arms to steer, so that was reassuring, but it was the security personnel that caught her attention. If Liz was seeing it right, the two were not on friendly terms with each other. The first one, an Indoprime, was standing at an awkward distance from the other guard, a Sed man. Neither spoke to the other, the Indoprime even slightly leaning away from the Sed, who stared straight ahead and said nothing. Both had plasma pistols on their belts, as well as upper armor over their uniforms. Liz was going to be severely disheartened if they messed up the ‘roadtrip’ she’d been waiting for.

Commander Koatil handed the pad to one of the crewmen and made her way to them at the shuttle.

“All aboard to MX13,” she said, resting her big paw on the pistol on her hip as she climbed in the door. The rest of them, Liz and Coco, the pilot, and the security personnel followed behind her. The door sealed shut behind them.

Liz took her seat, helping to secure Coco in theirs. The buckles weren’t well suited to thumbless species. She’d made sure the belts didn’t dislodge their own pistols from their holsters. Having a rogue plasma shot in here wouldn’t end well.

Buttons were pressed, dials turned, something that looked like a cup holder was pulled out of the dash, and the shuttle came to life.

“Shuttle Alpha, you are clear for departure.”

“Acknowledged,” replied the pilot.

The hangar doors opened, leaving behind the gas mesh, a thin blue wall of light to keep the air in the room from exploding into the void. Their shuttle passed through it easily, heading into open space.

“Haven’t seen this view for a while,” Liz said. Sure, of course there were windows on the ship, but it felt different in a shuttle. Like the void was just a hair’s width away from her now, waiting for her.

“My sensory receptors can’t make out anything but the shuttle,” Coco said, “could you describe it to me?” Coco’s leaves were shaking slightly, so Liz reached out and put a hand on their branch. The shaking calmed.

“Well first it’s just the sheer amount of stars,” Liz said quietly, “like a million points of light. There’s a nebula about 12,000 light years away off the port side that looks like butterfly wings if you squint… if you look at it right. Coco, I can’t express it right, the moon looks beautiful.”

“Human Liz, I’m jealous of you. Seeing in the visible spectrum must been so interesting.”

“Well what does the world around you look like? What do you perceive?”

“Well as you know, my branches have a sensory function to detect my surroundings, vibrations, light, even sensations in a way. But I don’t know how one would compare our two sensory experiences.”

“Your communicator is built into your brain isn’t it?” Liz asked. “Couldn’t it be adjusted to send sensory signals to your mind as well?”

“It’s possible, but the technology isn’t developed yet,” Coco explained. Liz looked at her a moment.

“Think we could fix that? I’d hate for my best friend to miss this view for their whole life.”

Coco didn’t say anything to that. She just listened as Liz described the universe around them.

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

Boosters fired.

Air brakes deployed.

Shuttle Alpha landed safely on the moon MX13.

The landing party filed out, and except for Coco, everyone decided against the worst case scenario and wore respirators. It wasn’t as bulky as Liz first thought, just a face mask with a line to a small air cleaner on her belt. Coco was the only one who didn’t need to breathe, so they were totally fine.

Stepping off the shuttle onto the moon’s surface, Liz was surprised at the vegetation around them. Muddy purple grass bed the ground, surrounded by rocky patches across the valley where they’d landed. Off in the distance were what appeared to be trees, thick branchless trunks growing straight up, splitting into angular canopies. Liz brought her camera up and snapped a photo.

“Alright, spread out but try to stay in sight of the shuttle,” Koatil said over their radios. “I know we’re setting g sensors pretty far out, so if anyone gets into trouble out there, launch a flare and we’ll come get you. Grite! You’re with the science team, go with them.”

The Sed man, Grite, looked almost pained at the idea of tagging along with Liz and the Sprygan.

“Aye, commander.”

“Think you can help us carry the sensors?” Liz asked, hoping to break the ice. She already had 2 bags strapped to her back and another slung over her shoulder. Coco was too small to carry anything.

“You can carry your own supplies,” growled Grite, keeping his distance from them.

What a dick, Liz thought, shouldering another bag on her other arm. The sensors she was carrying were heavy, but she was still in high spirits. Field work! Hurray!

They must’ve walked for over a mile, planting sensors every few hundred feet in ‘places of interest’, namely places Liz and Coco thought looked cool or had neat vegetation or rock formations. They’d made their way into a swampy area, heading towards a line of hills in the distance.

Coco went off a ways to plant a sensor by a small marshy cove they’d detected. Grite followed behind Liz, glaring every time she looked back. She didn’t know what she’d done to annoy him so much, she’d just met the guy, but maybe she’d done something or said something offensive by alien standards.

Whatever, don’t need him for this, Liz thought. This is a brain mission, not a buff rock guy mission.

“Human Liz,” Coco called over the radio, “there’s a rocky area here, with a subterranean tunnel system.”

“Cool, moon caves,” Liz laughed. “I’ll be right there with the another sensor, just wait for me, okay?”

“There are these round stones here half buried in the soil, at the entrance,” they continued.

That made Liz pause a moment.

“Just one or two, or are they in a kind of a pile?”

Static.

“Coco? Talk to me hon, pile or no pile?”

Static still. A few pips and pops, followed by a squeal of feedback noise. Liz’s blood ran cold.

“-uman Liz-… predator-… help-…”

“Grite launch the flare now!” Liz yelled, dropping the bags to the ground before breaking out in a sprint. She stomped and lunged through a few hundred yards of marsh, quick as she could, hitting solid earth at a dead run. The Sed was either behind her or he wasn’t, Liz couldn’t think about that in the moment. She had a pistol herself, and while she may have been the science geek on the ship, her dad had made sure she knew how to use it.

She cleared the marsh and crested a small ridge line, following the trudging trail of the little Sprygan. There she saw the scene, Coco on their side, massive claw marks raked up their trunk, and what looked like a cross between a mountain lion and a gator, long snout and mouth with jagged teeth and a ‘feline’ body, muscled and lithe with a forked tail. The thing’s back was covered in ridged scales, while its limbs were bare, wrapped in fur and old battle scars.

FUCK, Liz thought. She pulled her pistol and shot energized plasma directly at its head, but it barely even burned it. Whatever this thing was made of, its skin was fire proof. Her translator crackled in her ear.

“-human Liz…-?”

Liz didn’t hesitate any further. She leapt from the ridge, landing on the creature’s back. She took the butt of her pistol and started slamming it on the back of the thing’s head, over and over again, before the creature bucked her off.

Liz fell hard, hitting her head and mask on the ground with a sickening crack. Gas started venting fast, there was an inch long crack in her visor now, a whole chuck of it missing, falling somewhere in the dirt. Somewhere above her hair line she must’ve been cut on the rocks, because blood was dripping down into her left eye.

Dimly she was aware that she was already dead, if her mask was broken then there was no way to get back to the shuttle before she suffocated. But that being said, she was going to fuck up this monster trying to eat her best friend before making her grand exit.

What a way to go, huh Liz? she imagined in her father’s voice. He’d be smiling in a situation like this. Liz grabbed the side of her broken mask and ripped it off, throwing it at the creature as it crouched in front of her. She took in a deep breath of ‘air’, filling her lungs, and screamed. Her legs bent into a crouch, her back tensed, she tasted blood in her mouth. Adrenaline poured into her veins, dulling the pain, giving her strength and funneling rage into the center of her brain. She had one job now.

“COME ON THEN YOU FUCKER, LETS FUCKING GO!”

Liz charged the creature, firing bolts of burning plasma as she went, praying that dick Grite was somewhere nearby ready to get Coco out of there while it was busy mauling her to death.

The creature shrugged off the pistol fire, pouncing on her, pinning her to the rocky ground. Stones and the alien’s claws dug into her sides and back. It opened its jaws wide, and Liz realized it meant to eat her head. Fuck this thing.

“You hungry you big bastard?! EAT THIS!”

Liz worked her arm free, the one still holding a death grip on her plasma pistol, and shoved it down the creature’s throat. Its teeth tore into her arm, screaming pain ripped up her side, and Liz never stopped pulling the trigger. The smell of burning filled the air as the creature squealed and whined, its body going limp as bodily fluid poured out its mouth. She didn’t stop, emptying the clip into its blown out organs. Finally the thing was quiet.

Liz didn’t even bother trying to pull her arm out of the alien’s mouth, the thing was ruined, and she was dying anyway. Between blood loss and asphyxiation, her vision was already fading to little pin pricks. With the last shred of consciousness, she let out one more howl, screaming into the air, before everything went dark.

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

Elizabeth Collins didn’t remember what happened after that. All she knew was she was sore all over and weirdly cold, which would make sense if she was just a corpse, but why did she hear… was that ABBA?

Please not an eternity of pop music, she thought sluggishly. Anything but that.

She struggled, oddly weightless, and tried to open her eyes but found they’d been bandaged shut.

Oh good, I’m alive, people hardly ever bandage dead people.

What about mummies?

Shut up, me.

She reached a hand out and touched something smooth and solid. She tried to tap her knuckles against it, but only got one good rap at it before her hand hurt too much. Thankfully it seemed that’s all she needed.

“Human Liz, are you conscious? How do you feel? Are you in discomfort?”

Oh good, Coco was alive too.

“Wait, no, don’t try to speak right now, you’re in the regeneration pod right now, in nano surgery. I’ll be right here when it’s over, return to being unconscious please.”

Oh, okay, sleep sounded good anyway. Night night, Coco.

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

“It’s gonna be twitchy for a few cycles until it adjusts to your neural pathways, but it should feel just like the old one soon.”

One of the other humans, a woman named Jane Shaw who worked in med bay, had sat down with her earlier that morning to go over her… condition.

“We had to replace the lining of your lungs with a prosthetic mesh to keep them working,” she’d said, “you were out in that methane air for a while. If it hadn’t been for your Sprygan friend feeding you oxygen from their branches, you never would’ve made it.”

“I don’t think even they knew they could do that,” Liz had forced a laugh, coughing a bit. “Now, about my arm?”

“Completely scrapped. Whatever stomach acid that creature had, it melted your arm down to the bone. Can’t repair what isn’t there, I’m afraid.”

“I understand. Thanks, Doc.”

Well ain’t that something? Liz was effectively 15, maybe 20, percent cybernetic now. She told herself she’d trick out her new arm with all sorts of cool gadgets, making every effort to distract herself from the fact that she lost her right fucking arm.

“On the plus side,” she said quietly to herself as she walked toward the lab, “got another new project too.”

The door hissed open. And there was Coco, still as a tree, which she guessed made sense. She could barely see the claw marks on their trunk now, but wished she couldn’t at all. She should’ve been faster.

“Human Liz?”

“What’s up hon, you miss me?”

It’d been three days since the landing party had come back with her bleeding out in the shuttle, three days since she’d gotten to relax in their shared lab. She tapped the new glass enclosure where the eggs they’d gathered were incubating, the sign on the side saying ‘these eggs cost an arm and a leg!’ Apparently Chief Ducane had gone down there to gather what equipment could be salvaged and decided they’d be worth something to the science team. Maybe he thought he was being funny, Liz didn’t know. She did chuckle a little. Just a little.

“Human Liz, you are… okay now, yes? The reconstruction…” Coco’s leaves were shaking.

“Come on Coco, you know me, I’m totally fine! See?” Liz held up her new chrome arm, the new metallic fingers twitching at odd angles.

“That’ll stop in a few cycles, Doctor Shaw said so.”

“Human Liz, why did you do that?” Coco stood stock still in the center of the lab.

“Do what hon?”

“Why did you risk your existence[?] [life] to help me? That is not what we do on Spryga.”

Liz blinked a few times.

“Well that sucks, you all just let people get knocked off there?”

“Yes, in order to maintain the bulk of the colony.”

“Well this isn’t Spryga, Coco, and you’re my friend, of course I was gonna come get you, you asked for my help!”

“I should not have!”

Liz sat down and took a breath. This would be weird and awkward for everyone in the room who wasn’t an egg.

“You asked for my help, and I’m sorry, but I give a shit about you, and yeah, it cost me an arm and some lungs, but I was going to save you. So can you relax about it now? I mean damn, you’re my best friend, I wasn’t gonna leave you out there!”

���I don’t know what that means!”

“Yeah you do. It means exactly what you think it does. That I’m coming to get you, whether you like it or not. We’ve only known each other three weeks on this boat, but you got yourself a very attached human who’ll make sure you live, got it?”

Coco was quiet a moment. Their branches started shaking again.

“I’m very very sorry you lost a branch[?] [limb] because of me,” they said quietly.

“It’s okay hon, I wasn’t mad at you about that. I’m just glad that Grite guy launched the flare so the shuttle could come get us.”

“Grite did not set off any flares,” Coco said, confused. “After you had killed the predator, I fired one into the sky before giving you oxygen from my leaves.”

Oh I’m gonna kill that guy with my new robo arm, Liz thought.

Back burner that for now.

“So yeah, hugs and kisses, make ups all around, love you too Coco,” Liz said, using her flesh hand to brush away the stale air between them. “You wanna help me trick out my arm? I was thinking a laser pointer and a universal remote control, what do you think?”

“I think you should be focused more on rehabilitation. From my research on lifeforms like humans, you require an extensive amount of time to recover from injuries this severe. It’s actually amazing, any other race would’ve been permanently incapacitated in similar situations.”

“Yeah, humans are weird huh? Perks of evolution on a deathworld like Earth.” She tried laughing again, dissolving into a coughing fit. Coco stood watching her. Liz could feel concern mixed with just a hint of judgment.

“Okay, yeah, I got rehab scheduled every other cycle after the shift is over,” Liz admitted.

“Good,” they said, content. “If my… best friend, is not functioning properly, I would be distressed.”

Liz smiled.

“And yes, I would most enjoy retrofitting your new branch[?] [limb]. We could make it… fashionable is the word, yes?”

[jd07201990]

I watched from the kitchen door, with a wide grin on my face, as my previously combative, nerdy Stepson watched his laptop, eyes glazed, for the umpteenth time these last 6 months. Nobody would ever remember tiny, snarky little Theodore. They’d only ever see Theo, this bulky, sweaty brute, lifting and fucking his way through college, just like any red-blooded young man should. And it was all thanks to my buddy Sarge’s “attitude adjusting” self help videos, he custom designs for a slew of shady clientele after he retired. Mostly foreign governments, some loony cults here and there. But for me, he’d done a personal favor. I filled out a details chart, every last trait, from his voice to his hair, posture, everything. I thought about everything he’d said about “those sweating, grunting behemoths” that all got into school with free-ride scholarships for athletics. Theo was going to helplessly, desperately, insatiably grow, eating and grunting his way to 215, the weight I’d maintained all through college. He’d also dress, walk, and talk like the testosterone (and a slew of supplements Sarge gave me with the videos) filled cocky young male you see frequenting college courtyards, throwing footballs between bros and chasing pretty sorority girls like lovesick puppies. Their dumb, dopey demeanor would seen pour from Theo’s mouth, his shoulders back, pecs out casually. He’d grope and adjust himself, sitting down with his legs wide no matter where he is. His diet would change, adding raw calories and protein, chuckling dumbly with the other gym rats as he gulps down creatine powder, dry, and chugs a shake to wash it down. The supplements Sarge gave me to add to his meals, ensured he’d bulk up fast, and solid. As long as I fed him enough, which I was warned would triple our groceries, at least, He’d gain the weight, and the thickness I was looking for, while his body would be thrust through a second puberty, allowing for the subliminals to work on other, aspects, of his masculinity. Let’s just say, we all know what they say about dudes with big feet. And his will be a hefty size 14. Too bad for his mother, our house is also going to reek like a Varsity locker room, because those feet, and the rest of him, will be all raw male, all the time. Pumped and ready, brimming with energy, like a Golden Retriever, if it were a 6’2” behemoth. The toughest bit was straightening him out. Giving him that good old fashioned, hot-blooded straight male instinct, making him drool over the coeds and cheerleaders, chasing girls like every young man should. The videos worked their magic well, the supplements setting his balls ablaze, churning out testosterone to fuel his primal need for aggression, for hard work, and effort, and sweat and sex. He fought it until his best friend Jenna, without realizing what her playful teasing was doing to him, had been on the couch with him, and had leaned over, and nibbled his ear one night while watching a movie. He'd lost his gold star that night. Quickly, and with all the confusion and passion that comes with young love and first times. Jenna had been stunned when he’d practically pounced on her, and from there, hours passed, and they wore themselves out right there on the couch. The next morning, he was mortified, but he couldn’t help but kiss her when she woke and complimented him on his… performance. It's been 6 months, and you’d never know he wasn’t always a muscled up, sweaty, straight boy, chasing girls at school, slacking off in class, and riding his new Lacrosse Scholarship that Sarge so nicely arranged when Theo got big and dumb enough to join the team. It seems Sarge knows quite a few coaches, Alumni, and Board members with a good bot of influence. It also seemed the school’s Jock population was skyrocketing, coincidentally at the same time as Sarge added a pool, an extension, and a garage full of classic cars to his house…

[itriedwritingandhereiam]

The Runaways (timari 2024)

Tim’s eyes are bouncing from side to side constantly on vigilant watch. He’d loosened his hair and let the longer strands hide the majority of his face while he diligently avoided any traffic cameras. He’d thrown a hoodie over his work attire and made sure to turn his phone off so it couldn’t be tracked.

He was sure it still wouldn’t be enough to keep them off his tail.

In truth, Tim was being watched. Tracked. Monitored. Whatever you want to label it. He’d been awake for the past five days and his family had discovered this fact this morning. Due to his use of caffeinated beverages to stay conscious, subsequently violating the coffee ban that had been in effect for the past three weeks, he was probably in serious danger.

The repercussions? He’d probably be shot with a tranquilliser the second they laid eyes on him. It wouldn’t be the first time. This is why he was moving incognito in order to purchase his next fix. That made him sound like a drug addict- So, Tim has his head hung low and is heading towards the reasonably furthest coffee shop from both the Manor and Wayne Tower possible.

Then something caught him off guard. Or rather someone . Out of absolutely nowhere , someone barrelled into him.

 ~

Marinette is nearly out of breath. Two years of track and five literally sprinting across Paris did nothing for her as she ran desperately trying to lose her pursuer. The cold Gotham atmosphere had prohibited sweating but Kwami, her layers of clothes were starting to feel heavy.

Literally running on five hours of sleep for the past four days was probably not the best move. Especially since she’d been deprived of any caffeine supplements this morning. It was better than nothing though.

A healthy four blocks away, the woman stopped to take a breather. She kept her body tense and ready for action and she surveyed her surroundings. She had finally lost Adrien . Pulling out her phone, she searched the nearest coffee shop and continued her sprint before turning off location and powering it off. She couldn’t afford to take chances.

The former parisian looks back momentarily. She only took her eyes off her feet for one second.  She swears. One second was all it took for one foot to run into the other and gravity to take the wheel. 

~

It caught Tim very much off guard. Which said a lot considering he was supposed to be on his toes. He stumbled backward in an attempt to regain balance, the assailant clinging to him. He plants his foot firmly on the pavement, successfully not toppling over with the extra weight.

“Are you o-”

“I am so sorry,” the person- Girl, he soon realises, said quickly standing up straight. She paused to stare at him.

Were his eyebags that bad? Did she recognise him?

No, that was impossible, his disguise was flawless.

“Look-” he began, but was promptly cut off…again.

“Are you by chance, in need of coffee?”

Huh?

“...yes?” he answered hesitantly.

“And you wouldn’t happen to be an insomniac too” Or workaholic,” she continued.

Where was she going with this? She was starting to sound like a t.v. commercial.

“I happen to be? What’s this abo-”

“I need your help! Desperately,” she exclaimed out of nowhere, “My brother is chasing me and I’m in desperate need of a caffeine fix! I said desperate already, didn't I? As a fellow insomniac you are obligated to help me in my endeavour,” she clasped her hands together on his and donned a pleading expression. Her eyes flitted to the side before she furrowed her eyebrows and slowly retracted her hands.

“Ofcourseifyoudon’twantto,that’scompletelyunderstandable.I’mjustsomerandomgirlwhocameoutofnowhere.Youjustseemlikeafellowcaffeineworshipper.Imeanlookatyoureyebags-Notthattheylookbad!They’reactuallyquiteimpressive-”

Despite slight confusion, Tim took her by the hand and gave her an earnest look. Frankly, the speed at which she spoke vaguely reminded him of Bart, maybe they were related. He was proud of himself for being able to understand her.

“Miss, I would love nothing more than to get coffee with you,” he spoke, maintaining full eye-contact.

“It’s Marinette, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, nice to meet you…”

“Tim, I’m Tim Drake and it’s a pleasure to meet you Marinette,”

She smiled tiredly before glancing down at her watch, expression quickly changing. The lack of recognition in her eyes surprised him greatly. 

“It’s been ten minutes since I last saw my brother, chances are he’s lurking around some corner, we need to move quickly. He is a trained athlete and will stop at nothing to drag me back to our apartment,” she warned.

Tim nodded, “The closest coffee shop is Espresso Express but they taste like shit so we’re going to have to run a few blocks to get quality beans,”

Marinette shrugs, “I don’t care the distance anymore, once I get my fix I’ll be fine,”

The man scrutinises his new ally’s  clothing before coming to the conclusion that, “You might need to change your look though, the pastel pink in Gotham streets is not very inconspicuous,”

To this, the woman grins and pulls her hoodie over her head and off, turning it inside out to reveal a royal blue varsity jacket with silver accents. She then loosens her to low messy buns and ties back the top half into a small ponytail.

“You’re very prepared,” he commented at the quick wardrobe change.

“Of course, I always have a plan, and a back up plan for that plan,” she put.

The corner of Tim’s lips tugged upwards.

“Shall we?” He extended his arm in a joking manner.

“That we shall,” she took his hand.

At a fast pace, they were past the first block in no time at all, both on the constant watch for the individuals in exchanged photos. Funny enough, both parties had decided to use their siblings’ mugshots as references for appearance.

“So, what do you do? That hoodie is not cheap. I saw my Uncle J wear that brand once. I think that’s the closest to normal I’ve seen him. Are you rich? Businessman? Or born into it? You said you were a workaholic so I assume the former,”

 Marinette is usually great at making small talk. Functional Marinette has great social skills and a fully operating brain to mouth filter. Current Marinette is not, in fact, Functional Marinette.

“Uncle J? Like the Joker?” Tim questions. Tim, in this way, is very similar to Marinette.  His years at Bruce, his father's side, had given him enough practice with dealing with people. All of this training goes down the drain when coherency is taken out of the equation.

“The who?” Marinette frowns, “His name is Jared, but his stage name is Jagged,”

“Like the Rockstar?”

“Yeah,” she confirms.

“Huh, okay,” there is a brief pause before he continues, “Workwise, you hit the nail on the head, I grew up in a well-off household and later started running my dad’s company with him. Outside of the office I have some hobbies. I've done photography since I was young, Skateboarding, parkour and martial arts among others. You?”

“I’m a designer. I own a small brand in Paris but I’m in Gotham for a while. I own a small fashion brand. Funny enough my brother inherited it but decided to give it to me. He wanted nothing to do with his father. I do parkour too! Well, I used to, there are only so many hours in the day. I’m a self taught fighter if that counts? I grew up in a bakery so baking is a given and I dabbled in fencing and other arts,”

“My little brother does fencing,” he remarked, “...Is your brother adopted?”

“Oui,” she replied, quickly adding, “but I love him like I would any other family nonetheless,”

Tim nodded, “I understand that, only two people of the dozen in my household are actually related by blood,”

“Dozen?” Marinette’s eyes widened in disbelief, “Your parents have an adoption problem,” Tim snorted, “ I grew up an only child, when Adrien moved in I was ready to strangle him at any moment. I can't imagine ten of him,”

“Yes, well I’m usually the one being attacked,” he frowned.

“One of your brothers had a white streak and pretty blue eyes, non ?”

White streak? “Oh, yeah. Jason, why?” He is unusually unsettled by her description of his zombie brother.

She nodded her head to a police car parked on the opposite side of the street where two men sat in the front seat arguing with each other. Tim froze momentarily before picking up his pace and leaning towards her to whisper in her ear.

“The cop’s a Dick and the other one is Jason. We need to move quicker, I don’t know how they found us but if we’re spotted it’s all over,”

Marinette hums before asking, “Would you like to take a different route?”

Without waiting for a response nor offering a warning, she pulled him into the nearest alley and scanned the surroundings. Her gaze settled on a fire escape ladder and motioned for him to follow her as she leapt onto the ladder and began her quick ascent.

“If we travel by rooftop,” she spoke as they climbed, “The chances of being spotted are lowered. Gotham has very tall buildings,”

‘ Huh, didn’t think of that,’

As the two reached the top, they stared at the next building some distance away. Now, Tim knew he could make the jump with some effort. He does this on a daily/nightly basis during patrol more often than not. The question was whether Marinette would be able to, she was just a civilian after all. Maybe they should turn back.

“Are you sure you can-”

With a running start, she leapt off the ledge, her body gliding through the air before she finally planted her feet, one after the other firmly on the other building’s roof. That was unmistakabley (I’m sorry, English might be my first language but I can’t use words-), practised movement. She was familiar and unhesitant. She said she did parkour but- Maybe she was a vigilante too? 

Did Paris have vigilantes? No, last he recalled they had superheroes. How could he forget? Their leader had glared at Batman and told him to shut up without reservation. It had been a glorious moment. The woman had been bold and unashamed, glaring at the Dark Knight in her five foot something confidence, not even reaching his shoulder. 

Maybe Marinette was on their team. It would make sense.

Tim furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

“Can you make it?!” the woman shouted from the other building, “ I can carry you if you want! OR we can go back to the road-”

“No, I'm coming!” he shouted in reply.  He copied her actions, landing directly beside her.

“You seem good at this,” he looked at her, commenting.

“So do you,” she retorted.

“Touché,” 

“I’ll race you to that building with the Blabo the Birthday Clown billboard,”

Tim squinted, looking into the distance, man he really needed to stop using his laptop in the dark. Late night screen time was really taking a toll on his vision.

“What do I get if I win?” he teased.

Marinette smirked, “you won’t. But , if you do, I’ll give you a commission for free,”

“Commission?”

“I’m a designer, remember?”

“Oh yeah. What makes you so confident you’ll win anyway?” he challenged.

“Call it intuition,”

He rolled his eyes, “What do you get if by chance, you manage to beat me?”

She hummed in thought.

“You pay for my coffee,” she decided. Like he wasn’t already going to.

“Deal,”

~

Long story short, about six buildings later, Tim lost. Marinette had a good laugh as the man sputtered excuses. He blamed lack of physical activity, being cooped up in the office. He blamed the caffeine to food ratio in his system. Those and a multitude of other factors.

“How far are we from the cafe now?” 

Tim stepped closer to the edge of the front of the building and looked down.

“If we climb down here, it’s the next building,” he informed her.

“Coffee here we come,”

The two descend into another alleyway. Marinette pokes her head out the side of the building, looking left and right for any familiar faces before signalling to Tim, who is standing behind her for them to move forward. The pair dash into ‘The Bar’ coffee house, and quickly and confidently up to the barista behind the counter.

“Bonjour Monsieur, we’d like two of the largest size cups you offer with the most caffeine you can legally give us. No milk, no sugar. S’il vous-plait,”

The lady behind the counter stared at the teens blinking twice. She sighed deeply and combed her fingers through her umber brown hair.

“Aren’t you the Wayne kid who got banned from Espresso Express? My friend works there as a barista. He warned me about you,” she directed at Tim.

Tim gulped.  He looked a little put on the spot to Marinette. Time for her to step in.

“Madame, this is my partner Claude. I don’t know who Tim is but Claude here really just needs a pick-me-up. And so do I. Do you see these eyebags?” she pointed to the darkened circles below her eyes for emphasis.

“Sure whatever, it’s none of my business anyway,” the woman muttered and turned to make their drinks.

Tim walked up to her side and murmured to her, “You knew who I was?”

She huffed, “Tim, mon cheri , we passed at least three Wayne Enterprise advertisements with you and your family modelling on the way here. Bangs can only do so much to hide your face,”

She watched in amusement as his cheek heated in what she would assume was embarrassment. Moments later, they collected their coffees and looked for a place to sit.

“A window seat is much to exposed,”

“And a corner seat is a little to obvious if they do find us,”

“So where do we stay?”

“...corner?” Marinette decided, “I don’t know where else in the store we could go,”

Tim shrugged in agreement.

~

Luckily, a two seated table at the back of the cafe was very much free. Tim and Marinette sat quietly sipping their coffee.

“What are we supposed to do after this? We both have to go home at some point,” Marinette voiced.

“We could… not …go home. We could move to Colombia. They have the best coffee. Do you speak Spanish? If not, we could just go to San Andres, I think they speak English there. I can work remotely and supply us with income. Would moving compromise your job?”

Marinette hummed in thought, “We could do that but it’d be a hassle to move abruptly. Plus I have some very important pieces of equipment in our apartment.  If we’re not going home, instead we could shed our identities for a while and go off grid, when we return, they’d be too relieved we’re not dead to remember the coffee ban,”

“I like your train of thought. Once I can bring my laptop we should be set for a good few months. It has access to everything we’d need,”

“What were you doing during your sleepless nights anyway? Your family wouldn’t be hunting you if you didn’t do this often,”

“I was up catching up on paperwork that backpiled while I was away on business,” he said, “I kind of lost track of time,”

“Isn’t your father a C.E.O. too? You can just give him some to lighten the load,”

Tim frowned, “He’s a busy man too, I can handle paperwork,” he took a sip of his coffee.

Marinette raised an eyebrow, “And how long did it take you?”

“Like four days,” he mumbled.

She gave him a lopsided smile, “Look, I’m no stranger to sleepless nights. And this might be a little hypocritical but if it’s not that important or there’s a way to lessen the load you shouldn’t lose sleep over it,”

“Okay,” he spoke softly, “And why are you being hunted?”

She scratched the nape of her neck by practice, “I’ve been having creative block recently but the other night I had a run in with two local vigilantes and when the inspiration hit I just went with it,”

This piqued Tim’s curiosity, “You ran into the bats?”

“Oui,” she nodded, “I had made a late night run and was held up. Luckily Red Hood and euh, Spoiler? Oui, Red Hood and Spoiler saved me,” the lie rolled off her tongue with ease.

There’s a flash of recognition on Tim’s face, which is very odd. He shouldn’t know anything about that, it was the middle of the night in a desolate alley somewhere around her apartment. No one was around. Unless, he was told about it. This brought her back to the theory that he (and by extension the Waynes) were more closely tied to the Bats and JL than just sponsors.

Three things brought her to this theory. She’s seen a few reports and interviews( not of her own volition, Chloe likes to keep her up to date with global affairs, i.e. celebrity gossip) with Bruce Wayne where he very clumsily made excuses about his “non-existent” ties to the local vigilantes and honestly, they put Marinette’s Why-I’m-late-to-class college excuses to shame. At times, he’d had these smooth explanations which were scarily detailed, and other times, there were so many holes that if you wrote it out on a bowl you’d have a strainer. The latter occurrences were usually when he was visibly tired and make up sloppily hid his dark circles, like father like son she guessed.

She’d also seen the news, it was always important to keep up with the current affairs of one’s residence after all. Whenever Wayne was kidnapped, the Bats were sure to be on the scene before reports were even made. It screamed personal relationship. 

The thing that really solidified her theory was  the other night when she’d obliterated the idiot who tried to rob her and overheard Red Hood talking with Spoiler. She is ninety percent certain (you can never be one hundred percent positive of anything) she heard the man refer to Bruce Wayne as ‘pops’ which she thinks is slang for father but who really knows with English speakers.

Anyway, if ‘Bruce’ was Hood’s father and Batman was known to be the father of a large branch of Gotham’s vigilantes, there was only one real possibility. Bruce Wayne was dating Batman and had shared custody of the bats and birds.

“That was you?” he blurts.

“Eh?” she pretended not to hear him.

“I mean, it’s lucky they were in the area,” Tim recovers, at least tries to, to which she nods.

“You could say LadyLuck is always on my side,” she says cryptically.

~

Tim was going to break out in a nervous sweat. Marinette was more dangerous than he’d originally thought his fellow insomniac was. And she’d lied to him with a straight face too.  There was no way his brother and sister (?) had met two blue haired french girls on the same night. If it was really the same person, she’d beaten a man (albeit a would-be thief/assailant) with an inch of his life left without breaking a sweat or showing any remorse.

Now, he could chalk it up to she’s learnt some self defence,  she did say she was self trained after all, but to beat an armed man in a back alley with no weapons was a little too ambitious for someone self trained.

“So, I’m curious, what’s your go-to order?” he asks, sipping his cup.

“Erm, probably bait and switch, my partner is usually bait while I set the trap,” she answers unhesitantly.

“Huh?”

Her eyes widened as she realised what she said.

“You meant my coffee order! Haha, silly me. I euh, I gave you my favourite… video game tactic! Yeah, I like to game with Adrien and my papa on the weekend. I usually have a homemade brew. My maman owns the machine and the little extra add ons and she offer’s the baker’s customers,”

Tim nodded thoughtfully, a quite contrasting reaction to his inner thoughts. He fucking knew it . She had to be one of the heroes. Battle tactics is not the average response when you’re asked about your go-to order.

Who could she be? None of the main members of the miraculous team really looked like her. Ladybug was a little taller than her and the mouse looking one(?) had a different air to her. Did the member’s appearances change after transformation? They worked with magic after all. Magic was such a fickle thing.

Or maybe she belonged to a different group? Who else operated in the european/asian region? The miraculous team said they had a base in Tibet. Who else was there? The League of Assassins . Was she with the League? That would explain her skills and lying abilities.

Was she here to kidnap him? Had he been a target all along? He stared her down with an analytic gaze.

“You know, it’s nice to have someone who shares my taste, especially in coffee. The closest thing I had to this back in Paris was a friend Nathaniel. We both had the artistic drive and would sometimes meet up for coffee and sketching. It didn’t last after he went off to university though,” she smiled softly as though recalling a fond memory.

“That must be nice,” his tense expression relaxed, “I have something similar with a friend as well. Although it’s for other activities, unfortunately, he shares the same views as my family when it comes to my diet. I swear he’d use his laser eyes to burn holes in my cup if he had no self control,” 

She laughed. Okay maybe she wasn’t  a spy from the League. She was a little too genuine for that. He usually knew a snake when he saw one. But she definitely had some special background. Time to circle back to his miraculous team theory.

The small talk didn’t last much longer. He just happened to flick his gaze behind him. He nearly choked on his coffee at the sight of his older brother. Tim chugged his coffee instantly and sunk into his seat and jacket. Marinette frowned as she followed his line of sight.

“Don’t make eye contact,” he whisper yelled as he saw her staring at them openly.

“Noted, is there a way for us to get out of here?”

“No, we’re in a corner, there’s nowhere to run. Not even a damn vent in the ceiling,” he cursed.

“Maybe they won’t see us,”

They did.

The shorter of the duo, the man with electric blue eyes and bronze skin happened to catch a glance of them. He tapped the shoulder of the other brother and two stared at Tim for an uncomfortably long time before approaching. Tim cursed under his breath about a hundred times as his eldest sibling rested his hand on his hip in a very parental fashion. The hand on hip, head tilted and frowning ‘you know what you did position and you know exactly how I feel about it’.

Meanwhile Jason wore a ‘you knew this was going to happen anyway’ expression the complicit older sibling usually dawned.

“Tim,” Dick addressed him.

The man mumbled something incoherent before sinking into his seat further, if that was possible. Marinette stretched across the table and stuck her hand out in front of her friend protectively, directing his attention to herself.

“Bonjour monsieur, I don’t believe you’ve introduced yourself,” she smiled. Her mouth may have turned upward into a smile but her eyes screamed “go away” or murder, who knows.

“Uh, morning miss,” he says awkwardly, averting his attention from Tim, “I haven’t. My name is Dick Grayson, it’s a pleasure to meet you miss…”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too Monsieur Grayson,” she politely refused to offer her name, “Now, I’d like to know what you’re doing with my friend here. We were in the middle of coffee,”

“That’s the problem sweetheart, little replacement here isn’t supposed to be consuming that shit ,” the man beside Dick interrupted, “So we’ll just take him off your hands and be on our way-”

“I don’t think so,” her eyes darkened. The officer looked surprised while Jason raised an eyebrow.

“He can leave when we’re done. It’s rather rude to just take my companion against his will,” she pursed her lips, looking between the two. Kwami, they were tall.

“Look we don’t have time for this shit,” Jason walked around Dick and grabbed Tim by the hood of his jacket and lifted him effortlessly. The younger of the two hissed, clawing at the neckline choking him.

Marinette stood up abruptly, the chair screeching as it’s pushed back suddenly. The eyes of multiple other patrons of the cafe turned towards them.

“Put him down,” she commanded. Dick immediately took a step toward her, fully prepared to subdue her.

Jason furrowed his eyebrows, “Do I know you?”

“No you don’t! You’ve never met!” Tim quickly protests.

It’s Marinette’s turn to look confused, “Why would I know you? I think I’d remember an asshole like you,”

Jason scoffed and dropped Tim who stumbled to his feet. Strangely, the man’s eyes flashed green as he stomped towards her. Dick is quick to intervene and block him.

“Hey, calm down. She’s harmless. And we’re in a public space,” he added. Jason huffed. While the two men stand there, Marinette looks at Tim and nudges her head to the door. He nods quickly and the two book it. It takes the two Waynes a moment to notice. Marinette grabs Tim’s hand as they run.

“We could lose them on the next corner,” she says as they run.

“Yeah, I have a place nearby we could hide out in-Oof-” 

The two are stopped once again, running into another figure in the cafe door frame. Dammit. They were moments away from freedom! Why-

“I found you Bug,” the figure says and Marinette’s heartbeat spikes.

“Fuck,” she curses as she takes a step back.

The strange blond man mimics Dick’s earlier hand on hip position. The first thing Tim notices is his height. He’s at least half a foot taller than both him and Marinette, maybe in line with Jason. He has these oddly feline eyes. His hair is windswept as though he’d been running and he had the looks of a model or actor. Perhaps the former.

Wait, tall…blond…green eyes? Looks of a model? This had to be Adrien, Marinette’s brother. 

With Tim’s brother right behind them and this man blocking the exit. There was no escape.  

“Double fuck,” Tim curses.

“ Haha , Hi Adrien! Mon petit minou, you know I love you~” Marinette laughs nervously, inching backward as her grip on Tims hand tightens to the point of discomfort.

The blond returns a feigned smile, “ Marinette, ma cocinelle, that’s a well established fact. In fact, I reciprocate to the point where I run around Gotham like a headless chicken to find you. I don’t know how you bribed Plagg but even camembert couldn’t win me your location,”

The ravenette simply shrugged wordlessly. Tim was a little lost but glad her brother didn’t seem as hostile as his. In fact, he seemed more relieved than anything if their playful conversation was anything to go off.

“A magician never tells her secrets,” she says cryptically.

“Sure,” he rolled his eyes, “Now that I’ve found you, can we please go home,” he pleaded, “You haven’t slept in days and I am willing to employ Chloe’s help if I have to. She is one phone call and a jet away,”

“Oh my God she’s another Tim,” Jason scowled.

“It explains why she was defending him,” the other added.

“Look Mister uh, blondie, how about you take ya friend over here and we’ll take out brother, I can recommend some human friendly tranquillisers that knock 'em right out. They’ll be gone for hours,”  Jason directed to Adrien who hummed in thought.

“You know what I think I’ll take you up on that,” he says to his pseudo-sister's detriment.

“Adri e n!” the parisian whined.

“Not this time Mousie. This is unhealthy. I don’t know if you've even blinked in the past three days,”

Marinette turned to Tim with pleading eyes and grabbed his hands in earnest.

“Please don’t let him take me away,” her voice was small as she begged.

“I don’t think we have a choice, we’re surrounded from all sides,”

“ Haah ,” she dragged her hand down her face, “We surrender on the term that the coffee ban will be lifted after the next twenty four hours,”

Tim watched her in surprise. He didn’t actually expect her to surrender. He sighed and shrugged in agreement.

“It’s funny you thought you had a choice, Dickhead you take him by the legs and I’ll take the hands,”

“Alright, it’s time to go home Bug,”

Without warning both sets of siblings grabs their respective insomniacs, the parisian being thrown over her brother’s shoulder bridal style and the gothamites struggling with their slightly larger sibling.

“Wait! I wanna tell him goodbyeee! Adrieeeeen,” she struggled, wiggling her hand into her pocket, she tossed a card at her partner in crime.

Tim skillfully caught it in his mouth and looked below his nose in an attempt to read it. He inhaled sharply before letting out a cry.

“YOU’RE MDC TOO?! Jason lEt me g ooo . LET ME GOO o . She’s my soulmate!”

“Shut the fuck up,” was the ever affectionate response, “You got her number, you’ll see her again if even we didn’t want you to,”

With a two finger salute, Adrien bid the gothamites adieu who nodded in reply.

“Call meeeee!” is the last thing Tim hears from the ravenette before she was out of sight, carried on her brother’s back like a sack of potatoes.

“We’re giving you a choice, you can go back to your bed in the manor or I can drop you off in a random safe house and you’ll find your way when you wake up,” Jason so graciously offered.

The addict let out a long unintelligible whine.

“Manor please, Alfred’s making pancakes tomorrow,”

Dick snorted, “Who said you were waking up by tomorrow?”

ao3 link

[eternalsa2z]

GGLAM: Krystal

"Hiiiii Krissy! Welcome to GGLAM!"

Kristie had been going to "GGLAM By Polly" for a few weeks. Normally a high end salon wouldn't be her thing. But after "Paula's Cuts" shut down and was replaced by this Barbie-like boutique, her choices were limited. Of course, it also helped the the bubbly and beautiful Polly 'grandmothered' in all of Paula's old clients, offering the old prices for whatever their old styling used to be.

Of course, Polly was always pushing for this or that. Telling her client that she'd look cute with extensions. How she should totally go blonde. That thick and curvy waves with a full body were sooooo in right now. Kristie would always decline the over-enthusiastic bimbo, who to her credit would always drop the subject and do something simple. Kristie did appreciate that her stylist always listened and obeyed her...or maybe the ditz just forgot she offered a total makeover just a few minutes before.

"You're hair is soooo soft and shiny and pretty! Do you trust me?"

Honestly, she did. Polly was exciteable but never did anything Kristie didn't want. So whether it was the stylist's adorable eagerness, the endless happy salon music, or an inner curiosity wearing her down, she relented and consented.

With a squeal of excitement, Polly got to work. Blowing. Teasing. Fluffing. It felt like forever and Kristie almost dozed off as the bubbly beautician tried something new and exciting. When the makeover artist's long acrylic nails tapped on her shoulder, Kristie stared at the mirror in a daze.

"You're such a good girl letting me give your hair a makeover! Do you like it?" Polly asked hopefully.

Kristie nodded. It was...pretty. Sexy almost, but not too over the top. She liked it. Somehow, for some reason, she wished Polly had gone further.

"OMG your face is flawless! You're, like, a literal Barbie!"

Kristie blushed, even if her face didn't show it under all that foundation. Polly's compliments were what convinced her to do more this time. Sure, her hair was kept simple, just washed in a special silicone enriching bath that Polly kept gushing about. But this was the first time Kristie had agreed to pay for the 'Pretty Girl Package'.

The results were stunning. The pink lipstick, the pink top, the little sparkly earrings all made her mind sparkle. She couldn't help but giggle with giddiness alongside her stylist, especially after Polly told her that the package meant she could take all the products home for free.

"Look at you Krissy! Ur, like, a living advertisement for GGLAM! An adorable doll on display!"

As Kristie posed, she processed the words. Her new blonder and curlier hair. Even her somehow curvier form that fit that new dress juuuuuuust right. For a moment she tried to think about it, whether the change was too much. But Polly played that catchy little jingle from the salon as she snapped some photos and Krissy forgot what she was worried about.

There was nothing to worry about! All she had to do was let Polly make her pretty. Wear the cute clothes. Be a GGLAM model. It was soooo easy and soooo nice to let someone doll her up and dress her so sexy. It's like Polly was always saying - Good Girls Love A Makeover!

"Yesssss Krissy! Look at my little blonde angel! You're shining like a diamond...or like, a Krystal!"

Krissy felt amazing. After weeks of makeovers, special supplements, enriching hair treatments she finally went blonde. 'Bimbo blonde' as Polly called it. They left a bit of Krissy's dark roots as a reminder of her old self...but, like, Krissy could barely remember what she looked like before she started working with Polly.

But Krissy didn't worry. Or think. She just did what she was told. Sat obediently in the chair. Gave a smile for the camera. Did a little twirl on command. Polly knew best. Krissy trusted Polly. Krissy would be GGLAM's good girl model.

"Krystal you've been, like, an uh-may-zing client! I've sooooo loved helping you become the super pink girly girl bimbo you told me you were on the inside!"

Krystal just posed and pouted prettily. She, like, didn't 'member telling Polly that she wanted to be a bimbo. Or even looking like such a girly girl before. But, like, Polly must've known. She always knew what was best!

Now Krystal looked her best. She was a bit sad Polly said that after her latest pink makeover her 'Good Girl Package' was done. But quickly happiness took over as her cotton candy pink brain saw her candy pink new hair and yummy new body. As pink and pretty on the outside as she was on the outside, with a hawt new bod to match her mind.

"Hiiiii this is GGLAM by Polly, 'cuz Good Girls Love A Makeover! I'm Krystal...how can I, like, help make you beautiful?"

She stared blankly at the mirror, absent-mindedly brushing her hair and admiring her makeup. Her simple little mind couldn't memorize much beyond that silly short intro line, but luckily Polly had a 'lil repetitive tape that helped drill the greeting into her head. GGLAM's new reception needed to make a good first impression!

After month going to GGLAM, Krystal always made a good first impression. Especially after Polly plumped up her lips even more. It was sooooo worth it quitting her old job. Not only did she, like, get to hang out at the salon allllll day, but Polly gave her comp...complimen...like, free makeovers for working there! It was totes the best deal ever!

She was a total GGLAM girl now. But as she talked the next client...she hoped she wouldn't be the last. Good girls love a makeover...and bimbos need besties...

[vulcajes]

PLS yap about lily. i'm not sure why but i really want to hear your thoughts on her

Oooooh I'm so glad this was my first ask <3

How I view her:

Lily my queen. She is arguably the most important character in the canon and one of my personal faves. She's definitely a no-nonsense girly who did not put up with anyone's shit at Hogwarts. Extremely witty, rivals Sirius in sarcastic wit, and also enjoys deadpan humour. Top of her class, but had to supplement that with a LOT of studying. Working class icon who had absolutely no time for her rich bitch classmates. Would always try to be nice and kind to everyone, but also was more than willing to call someone out on their bullshit. Very very prideful, especially when someone commented on her family, but was always willing to put it aside for the greater good (ie, never made comments when partnered with someone she disliked for projects). Very easily stressed and often needed to take a minute with a cup of tea to calm down with her girls. She was also the bravest of anyone, actually. I won't take notes on this one, she was the least cowardly ever. Can be deeply insecure in herself and her abilities and it doesn't often let up when she feels this way, even if she receives reassurance. I could go on about her forever so please fr ask for a follow up or more clarification if you want 🙏🙏

My fave headcanons:

Actually liked James from the start; thought he was cute but REFUSED it

Her middle name is Jasmine

Would tutor the younger years, especially the muggleborns

Born and raised in Liverpool, my scouser queen, but has Welsh blood

Biggest ABBA fan going, had all their albums and knew all the lore

Queen of nicknames, made fun of the Marauders for what she considered bad nicknames

Loves physical affection but she never initiates it. If her friend or lover initiates, she adapts so quickly and immediately limpits them

The first time she showed any magical ability was in reference to Petunia — she was like 7 and was trying to protect Petunia from walking into something/getting hurt

Has freckles AND beauty marks <3

The mum friend and someone everyone went to for advice, and my god, she gave damn good advice

Ships:

Jily: YES!!! This is in my top 3 ships of all time. Romantic or platonic, they're so iconic. Literally soulmates imo. Sweetheart x sweetheart, babygirl x babygirl, she pegs him <3

Lilypad: Platonically? Absolutely. Romantically? Absolutely. They would have insane sexual chemistry. Rivals to friends, rivals to lovers. They get each other. There's a reason why James loves them both. Also JILYPAD <333333

Regulily: I can definitely see this platonically in an au. In a normal setting, absolutely not. Lily would hate Regulus (and vice versa). But in an au, they'd be study buddies or just enjoy each others dry sarcasm. Can see them in a jegulily romantic setting, too.

Moonflower: UGH THEIR FRIENDSHIP <33 I personally can't see them dating, but them being besties is so important to me.

Bartylily: once again, yes in an au. Lily and her dirtbag boyfriend <3 Lily and her freak of a man that follows her around <3 they're so opposites attract <3 also I kinda adore flowerkiller... they're so iconic.

Snily: I appreciate them being background lore. Lily clung to their friendship so so deeply but knew she had to let him go when he started treating her awfully.

Marylily: HER BEST FRIEND. THEY'RE ARE THE SIRIUS AND JAMES OF THE VALKYRIES. They get each other so much and also unrequited romantic marylily goes HARD. Her and Mary being each others first kisses and having such a special bond <3

Lilylene: YES. Nerdy quiet girl and her loudmouth femme himbo gf. Marlene who acts as her guard dog and excitedly explains quidditch to her. She helps Marlene with subjects she struggles with.

Dorlily: ugh iconic. Their friendship is powerful and their relationship is also powerful. They're both so smart and so brave and Lily being able to be close with another Slytherin after what happened with Severus is so important to me.

Pandalily: Honestly, I cannot see them working out romantically. I can see them being friends and bonding over potions, but Lily does NOT have the patience to deal with Pandora.

[everlastingdream]

Part 1 - Part 8 - Part 9

Everything after that was a blur. Alex and Winn was talking to Kara and then to J'onn and then even to Lena, who stood there shocked, face wet and finally hopeful.

Kara wasn't thinking, she wanted to bring Lena to the DEO as soon as possible, while there was still life beating underneath pale skin. But Alex managed to made her come to her senses, before she could fly close to the speed of the sound and make more damage than good.

"It's strange to see myself like that", Lena remarked, while they were flying back. She tried to poke her arm, only for her hand to go through.

"I'll take any strangies if it means you're alive", Kara smiled despite her heart trying to beat out of her chest.

"Well, I guess I am alive, but I'm a ghost still, so it's another thing to consider".

"Don't. We'll find the way", Kara retorted sternly, regreting her tone a bit. But she couldn't help it. So many things happened at once. So many emotions was rattling inside her without a way to escape.

"We will", Lena nodded and then spent the rest of the flight contemplating about something.

/ / / / / / / / / /

Medical team was ready as soon as they arrived at the DEO. They took Lena inside for the examination to determine how bad her condition was. It goes without saying that Kara wanted to be there for all of the discussions but she gave up after Alex promised to tell her everything and J'onn was adamant about her not disturbing the doctors.

So Kara passed in front of their screen relaying her report. Every couple of sentences she would freeze to tune to the weak sound of heart on the floor below.

"She is stable but the situation is dire", Alex arrived in the room, looking somber. She raised her hand as soon as Kara opened her mouth. "They had her on medication all this time, but she wasn't properly treated after the car accident. And it seems they gave up a few days ago so Lena is heavily malnourished. They likely just gave her water and some liquid supplements".

Room fell silent. Ghost Lena was standing in the corner with her jaw set stubbornly, clearly not ready to give up yet. But there was still bitterness in that determination.

"So what are we going to do?" Kara went to stand beside her, offering some comfort. She wanted to rub her on the back and even in her disappointment of being unable to do so there sparkled bright hope.

"We will treat her injuries and devise a plan to get her all the missing nutrients back. She should be able to wake up soon if all is well".

"Thank Rao", Kara sighed and exchanged glances with Lena.

Alex smiled at them before going back.

/ / / / / / / / / /

"How are you feeling?" Kara whispered several hours later, sitting beside Lena's bed.

"It's still strange", Lena chuckled quietly from other side of the bed. "But I felt your touch at the base a little, so I think it's a good sign, even if I have no idea why I'm still outside of my body".

"You felt it?"

"I did. Just a faint sensation, but still".

Kara slowly took the hand laying on the bed and brought it to her lips, still looking right into Lena's eyes.

"That is really not fair", Lena groaned, turning away to try and hide her flaming face. "It's not like I can do anything in return".

"It's okay. I'll wait as long as needed. You promised to take me out for dinner".

Lena glared at Kara's smug smile.

"I'll reconsider the offer", she haughtily lifted her chin up, but still smiled tenderly at the end.

They laughed softly, searching each other faces. It was a beautiful moment free of any worry of the past few days. A time of respite, existing only for the purpose of reaffirming that delicate bond between them and finally letting it to take shape.

"Say, Lena. Will you remember me when you wake up?"

"Will I remember you?" Lena's smile was enigmatic and promising. "I won't forget you even if you asked".

/ / / / / / / / / /

The moment Lena's heart missed a beat Kara woke up, violently torn from sleep by the sound she dreaded the most.

By the moment she somehow cleared the fog from the sleep, there was already a nurse in the room with her. Kara caught only "critical" and "emergency" in her talk over the phone.

"No, no no no", she muttered two steps away from the team, who checked up the vitals and did something Kara wasn't able to understand from the sheer terror of what was happening right in front of her eyes.

"What's going on?" Alex was a welcome sight. Her sister was the only person Kara trusted right now. She would know what to do. She would save Lena.

"Agent Danvers, we need the resuscitation kit. The situation is dire".

After that Kara's world went silent. It was something that no headphones on this planet was able to do. But there was only Lena lying on the medical bed, staff frantically moving around and her sister giving out the commands. And all of that deadly quiet.

"I don't want to lose you", she whispered. Her eyes completely dry, as if even her body denied the possibility.

"It's okay", Ghost Lena was suddenly standing in front of her, blocking the view of yet another tradegy Kara witnessed. "It's okay, you saved me. As you promised. So it's okay".

And seeing her so accepting was even more heartbreaking.

"What am I going to say to Sam? Or to Winn? He wanted to meet you so badly", Kara muttered, lost. "What am I- what am I going to do..?"

"You'll live, you'll save people with your words and you powers and you will remember that there was a Lena Luthor who was not a monster".

Lena was standing there, strong and beatiful. And Kara wanted to scream. To ask why won't she just say that everything is going to be alright. Why was she saying the stuff like if it's her last words. Why was she smiling so sadly. Why she was leaving Kara behind.

Beep

Beep

Be-e-e-ep

Steady sound of the heart monitor suddenly stopped. And Lena closed her eyes, swallowing the tears, so that she can seem strong a little longer. But despite medical team running around and doing everything they can, Lena started to fade. So Kara did the only thing she could think about in these last few moments they had.

She surged forward to kiss Lena.

Even if it was futile, even if she was going to fall right through her.

This was for them. The last act of defiance against fate.

/ / / / / / / / / /

"You don't need to do that, Kara", Clark said to her on the way.

"I need to", Kara frowned, even if it was hard to go there.

"I don't want to see you hurt".

"I'm not going to be hurt, I've come to terms with it".

They stopped at the secretary desk.

Almost half a year has passed since Kara last saw Lena. And it still hurt so much that even seeing the logo of Luthor Corp was enough for her mind to wander for the next two days.

And with their recent investigation her resolve was tested more than once.

"You may go inside".

Inside was the same as when they went there the first time. And Lena was still beautiful, sitting in her chair, reading Clark's article.

After waking up and reclaming the company, she looked like a true bussinesswoman. Sharp and strong. Less soft, more predatory.

"Thank you, mister Kent. This is exactly the kind of press my company needs after yesterday's attack".

Lena and Clark exchanged some pleasantaries, more sincere than the first time they met. And something inside Kara preened at her only blood relative's approval.

"What about you, Miss Danvers?" Lena's smile made everything inside Kara flip upside down. "I didn't see your name on the byline".

The way she almost breathed out these words left Kara scrumbling for reply.

"Uh... Well, as I said, I'm not a reporter".

"You could've fooled me".

Perhaps there was a hope yet. Kara couldn't wipe dreamy smile off her face. Seeing Lena alive was a miracle, even if they were suddenly back to being strangers. But seeing Lena so... flirtatious was a ray of hope Kara tried to crush all this time.

"I hope this isn't the last time we talk?"

"I hope not either. I'll wait as long as needed, so please call me when your schedule has an opening".

She and Clark turned to leave. And now there was a possibility. In Lena's smile, in her now racing heartbeat. It didn't matter if she didn't remember. They'll make new memories together.

"Miss Danvers?" Lena called after her. Kara nodded to Clark to go ahead and turned around.

"Yes?"

There was tears streaming down Lena's cheeks, and before Kara could panic and rush to her, she spoke with a tender smile.

"I believe I promised you dinner".