#so we're gonna call him falcon

[i-a-q]

Sam: You ever thought about getting a hobby?

Bucky: Revenge is a hobby.

Sam: I meant something less… murder-y.

[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin: Episode 1 Breakdown

(Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 4) (Episode 5) (Episode 6) (Episode 7) (Episode 8)

Thank you Lauren LeFranc, Mike Marino, Colin Farrell and Matt Reeves, we owe you the world for this, good God. It's finally here everyone and I've decided I'm gonna give each episode it's own post/breakdown of thoughts, because hahaha holy shit you guys this is beyond what I even dreamed of, and we're gonna be covering this for a while I think. I've worked out enough madness about this out of my system by talking with friends and I can't seem to be able to work on anything else till I get this done, so let's do it.

Bottom line: This isn't even just a must-watch if you like the Penguin or if you like The Batman, this is something I'd recommend to just about anyone in a heartbeat, something I can point to when people ask "why do you like The Penguin so much" and, instead of the elaborate nerd ramble that usually turns them off, I can just tell them to watch this. A friend of mine (who already loves Batman and digs the Penguin quite a bit) even told me as much, that he's starting to get why I love the character so much, and truly, is there a better feeling than this? Well, there is, and it's watching the show. Let's dig into this first episode:

Right upfront I'm gonna say that this doesn't really seem to be the Sopranos rip-off that people have been calling it before release, although there are definitely Sopranos comparisons to make here. I've spent the past months finally watching The Sopranos in order to get the comparison and definitely want to talk about those comparisons after I finish it (and this show ends). This thing aims to stand on it's own legs as a crime show and it's smashing out of the gate with an extremely promising first episode.

So this just casually opens with the reveal that all along, there was a second rich Gotham the whole time that was completely unaffected by everything we saw in the movie, already throwing a great twist on the events of that movie, and further reinforcing how fucking full of shit The Riddler was. All we saw Batman and the others deal with in the movie was just affecting the poorer parts of the city. All Eddie did was drown rats, and make life worse for the people already in the bottom, while never even getting close to targeting the systemic rot that ruined his life. He retains ideological worshippers in subways obsessed with the corruption of the city without doing anything to actually improve it, and because of him, the streets of Gotham are waterlogged shitholes while the rich Falcone suburbs are doing just fine, peachy even.

I said a while back that, in spite of having about 6 scenes/10 minutes of Penguin runtime, The Batman managed to squeeze impeccably controlled Penguin Trademark Scenes, and this show opens with the last one they didn't get to then: Penguin killing someone for making fun of him. In the movie, he tries doing that with Falcone and is beaten to the punch, so here he gets to actually do it to disastrous consequences.

Fucking adore that the inciting incident of the show is based on the fallout of Oswald killing someone for making fun of him. He pours his heart about the dream he lives his life for, his new boss makes fun of him for being an embarassment to their profession and then he does the most typical Penguin thing by killing him for it and laughing afterwards. And then he realizes how badly he fucked up, and then we get a fucking perfect titledrop with his musical theme, the exact moment we finish The Batman and enter The Penguin.

God it is so fucking cool how the make-up/lighting, the scar across his face, makes it look like he's got a genuine beak from certain angles, how they're able to achieve that effect without giving him a more literal beak for a nose. Everytime they talk about the character, Reeves and Farrell always emphasize how integral the make-up was to them figuring out what to do with Oz, how little they knew what to make of his six scenes until Marino created their monster and suddenly everything fell into place. Mike Marino fully deserves co-credit for the creation of Oz.

Pretty amusing that Victor, as designed to be Penguin's Robin, has exactly the same origin as Jason Todd, a poor street kid trying to steal the hubcaps off the Penguinmobile (I'm sure this bodes very well for his odds at survival), as is the way in which Oz goes on about his recruitment. He press-gangs this kid at gunpoint to help him bury a body arguing with himself and eventually the kid why shouldn't he just kill him to be safe, while trying to impress the kid with his car and air freshener and later that bullshit about "What, you think I hire any schmuck off the street?". From the tile drop onwards, he's doing everything on the fly while also spinning long-term plans set in motion as soon as he's on screen, he's taking this kid in out of sympathy and because he enjoys a power dynamic over someone weaker than him and because he very much needs someone to help him get stuff done. I'm extremely interested in exploring Penguin having a mentorship dynamic and I'm beyond curious as to what happens with Victor from this point onwards, but that poor kid is in for a terrible fucking time.

Found it very funny how much he half-asses the murder threat to Victor. Like it's his first time actually doing it and he's trying to be serious, but not too scary because he's already seeing himself in the poor kid with a stutter and wants the kid to think he's also a cool guy like he wants everyone to think he's a cool guy. I also think having Victor as the POV helps to sell moments like these, because it's still terrifying to him. Even as we follow their stories, these power players of Gotham are still big scary monsters to people caught in the dregs and Victor helps to reinforce that.

I enjoy Oz being friends with sex workers and drag queens off the street as much as I enjoy Oz being depicted as the kind of guy who deludes himself into thinking the prostitute he's with actually likes him, Lauren and Farrell launched into a bit about in on the podcast and I'm curious to see what's going on with him and Eve here.

Lots of perfect funny little character moments across the whole thing. Oz insulted by the idea of taking extra pickles off a poor kid's dirty mouth, but with zero hesitation whatsoever for picking jewelry off his boss' corpse. Dude is governed by principles even as he actively has to break them to survive.

"Technically it's plum." "He is the - or was the - new kingpin", "He's got nurse-like qualities." The show is not overtly trying to get you to find Penguin likeable as much as it wants you to find him engaging - making you think he's likeable is Colin Farrell's job and he's masterful at it, definitely a lot more matured within the character compared to the movie.

If there's anything in particular I'm thankful for regarding Gotham (well okay Gotham led directly to Telltale Penguin which was the basis for this one, so really I do have a lot more to be thankful with Gotham), it's the decision to give him a legit waddle via the broken foot, but the way they incorporate it here with the club foot does so much for him, so much as a modern day reinvention of The Penguin. Adds so much to why he's never been a serious candidate for mob leadership, why he kinda had to spend all his time in the Lounge, why he actually needs someone to help him run affairs, why he has such a gaping ego wound and is so murderously angry at people making fun of him / calling him a goddamn penguin, adds so much validation and so much darkness and nuance to Oswald's overwhelming anger and bitterness over how the world treats him (and so much power should he opt to reclaim it, in turn). It's the kind of thing that frankly feels like it should have always been part of the character, like what all the previous versions were itching closer to or trying to get at. Of course this is a guy gets called a penguin and he hates it badly enough to murder people over it, of course.

This gets to really highlight how differently Oz acts depending on who he's with. Traditionally, one of my favorite things about The Penguin, and one of the things that puts him above the other villains, is that, due to his position, he has to interact with a lot more people than the other Bat-villains. He has to manage a lot more relationships and dynamics, he has to play peacekeeper and puppetmaster. he's the only one in the United Underworld who's regularly interacting with and recruiting other villains to do business with. He's the guy who you pin stuff on like the Gangland Guardians, Team Penguin, doing betting pools with the Rogues taking cover in his Lounge while Joker War is happening, having to rig games to keep good standing with Maxie Zeus and Frenchy Blake in Batman Audio Adventures, and so on. So I greatly enjoy this beat here of him talking about how makes himself smaller before the Falcones, and that moment of him adjusting his outfit and practicing expressions in the mirror before meeting with them. How he contorts himself is present in all of his relationships, and retroactively adds to the way he carries himself in The Batman.

It seems that Oz is functionally regarded as the Paulie Walnuts of the Falcones: useful muscle, loyal for the most part and amusing to keep around, but largely an unstable self-serving dumb asskisser kept where he belongs, a liability if not kept on a short leash. I think the show does a good job of highlighting all the reasons why Oz has never been seriously regarded as a viable option for a boss, even putting aside his disability. He is a fundamentally embarassing person for these serious respectable criminals to be around and of course, the joke is ultimately on them..

Of course, there is only two people in the show who actually know what he's capable of, Francis Cobb and Sofia Falcone, said to be the central relationships defining the show moving forward. Both of them also a defining commonality with Oswald, being people who are looked down on and dehumanized, and characters who are underestimated until it's time to bear their fangs.

Extremely invested in where they're going with Sofia Falcone, Cristine Milioti's been killing it, and will in fact not stop killing it. What a perfect villain for Penguin they've set up with her, someone who has his Kryptonite: she does not underestimate him. Although we know in advance that Oz is going to live and be in the next movie, the question here isn't even so much who's going to win the gang war, and rather how much damage these two freaks will do to the city until Batman gets back. In many ways, Sofia represents the shape of things to come just as much as he does.

She is this embodiment of both the pristine unfathomable wealth and privilege and power that he both detests and strives for, as well as this brutal new breed of madness and violence attacking the streets that he has to survive against and make deals with (and is himself very much a part of, however he denies it). She is Falcone's legacy in every way that matters, both a Kingpin of Gotham whose existence creates the oppressive conditions under which a Batman or a Riddler are created, as well as the Arkham Rogue, the larger-than-life sadist with a tragic origin and a signature torture-murder method and an embarassing name for the papers.

Even the fact that she is The Hangman, and Carmine was defined around his penchant for brutally strangling women - regardless of whether or not she did the crimes that got her in Arkham, she's become this larger-than-life themed expression of a violent obsession in a way that sets her up as every bit the Batman villain that The Penguin is. The two champions of the two Gothams, duking it out in this new world The Batman and The Riddler made, The Penguin vs The Hangman.

I am so glad Lauren LeFranc made the call for binning Alberto in the first five minutes so the rest of the show can focus on Sofia and make a real character out of her in a way nobody's ever really done before, every step of the way so far LeFranc has been perfectly on the ball about where to take these characters and their conflict. And speaking of those,

I feel very confident in saying that this is the first time anyone's ever really had something worth doing with Oswald's mother as a character in her own right and not just a source of anguish for Penguin (Gotham was almost onto something with Gertrude, but not nearly enough). When it comes to Penguin origin stories, my favorite's always been the Pre-Crisis one, where he's poor and bullied but happy with his mom and birds until she dies and the government seizes everything he has, which doesn't necessarily involve her much. But here? Francine Cobb is a real character in what little time we get to know her, and what a character she is. We quickly understand the role she's playing in Oz's life, not just as his mom and person he loves and strives to protect, but the person who's sculpting him into the man he's going to become.

She is vulnerable and she does need meds and she's not quite all there, and Penguin's need to care for her is visible in other actions of his. But then they turn it around by showing how strong and demanding she is, how she is fiercely ambitious and pushing him to be something he would otherwise not be, how much she loves him and sees greatness in him. She knows he's a people pleaser, she knows how to push his buttons, and she wants him to be more, so of course he's going to be more, because he lives to please his mom.

Related to this is this absolute bullseye of a summation of The Penguin, that Lauren LeFranc delivered in the podcast: "Perhaps his greatest fear is that love is transactional. And that yet, everything he does, every decision he makes, is as if that's true. As if "love is transactional" is a truth he abides by". Oswald's conception of power is being loved and revered like Rex Calabrese, and the love he wants most in all the world is the one from his mother. So in turn this, and all extensions of it, drive him to greater and darker lengths.

He doesn't have that ambition quite down yet, it's his mom that does. She who's pushing him to take over the city and not just be a guy scraping by for survival. He's smart and ambitious and extremely good at slipping out of trouble, but she's pushing him to be the guy who will be taking the city by the horns because that's what he has to be for their sake. Her legacy to her son is nurturing him having that dog in him that will make him the supervillain who picks fights with Vengeance. She is the force that's turning Oswald into The Goddamn Penguin and I can't wait to see how she's developed.

Of course he reprimands Victor in that scene for lacking ambition, who do you think he gets it from?

Really love what they've done with Sal Maroni in here so far. I like adaptations that take these throwaway Batman backstory gangsters and make something out of them, in this case, with Clancy Brown lending his power and voice and reputation as The Grand Boss of Villainy to play the last Respectable Gangster of Gotham, this intimidating principled old tiger who's inversely proportional to how much of a petty and scummy piece of shit Carmine Falcone was. Extremely a guy I'd want to see playing a hand in the creation of Two-Face. Just as crucial is the fact that he is the one who gets the most effortlessly outplayed by Oz here, because this is The Penguin Show: no room for traditional or respectable gangsters anymore, their purpose is to be crapped all over by our wacko birdman.

There's a lot about this that re-contextualizes his behavior in The Batman and the one I'm gonna point out is: even though he can't be sure his plan didn't completely go to shit, he is still keeping his wits and not being terribly scared about being beaten up and tortured and staring down the scariest Falcone with a gun shoved in his throat. But he craps his pants at the sight of the Batmobile. He gets pain, he gets indignity, but he doesn't get Vengeance, what kind of sick freak would come up with the stuff that guy does. A gun in his mouth and Falcone torture is just Tuesday, but a car that wants to eat his soul is some psycho shit he's just not ready to deal with.

It is the delicious tasty fucking irony that Oswald thinks Vengeance is this weird freak who doesn't play or bend to any rules and is here to fuck up everything, just like the madman who flooded the city, and thinks of himself in turn as a justifiable guy standing for the respectable old-fashioned empathetic way of doing things, instead of the exact same thing that Riddler and Batman are. Only Sofia gets what he really is, the same thing as her, and that's why she is the arch-enemy / the biggest thing he's gotta defeat in life for now.

God, how fucking PERFECT it is that he gets caught and tortured because he, after stabbing out a man's eye and causing him to get run over by a schoolbus, stops to wave at the kids in that schoolbus while covered in blood. Just the Rex Calabrese of it all, the self-image, this guy who's both a mean nasty son of a bitch and also a real bleeding heart softie and in ways that ruin his life and allow him to slip and wriggle his way out of shit he has no right to, as demonstrated by the finale.

Thinking about Sofia chastizing Oz saying he thinks she is a toy to play with, while rattling off the ways in which she owns him and everything he has, all the ridiculous little accessories her daddy let him play him, and he in turn is a ridiculous little accessory for the family she is twisting until it breaks. Perfect fucking villain for him. Can't wait to see how badly these two are gonna burn Gotham.

I knew deep in my heart that all I wanted out of a Penguin show, the thing that I simply needed to have in it, was Penguin pulling a heist set-up in advance, and it fucking delivered. He doesn't even complain at Victor for being late, because if anything, getting captured and tortured while the car crashed was even better for him. No, he complains at Victor for not being sufficiently gruesome with the body. See, unlike other cowardly anti-hero reinventions of Bat-villains, the show never wants you to forget that Oz is a weird freak and a disgusting piece of shit, even if he is a very likeable and even aspirational one. Only by the most random stroke of fate it wasn't Victor that he fed to the wolves at that moment, that he sees himself in the kid isn't exactly ensuring that he's gonna make out of this in one piece.

Mr. Vengeance gets Nirvana, and Mr. Boniface gets Dolly Parton, perfect credits.

In conclusion: Out of everything they could have done following the thunderous success of The Batman and it's ensuing influence over the DCU, out of all the offers Reeves must have gotten to helm their new universe after delivering a megahit reinvention of their breadwinner blockbuster character, Matt Reeves went "Nah, I listened to my crew, and what we really want to do is 8 hours of television about the waddling freak who's in my movie for 10 minutes", and he and his crew deserve the world for that. I dreamed as a kid of getting to make a big Penguin story or show, a wild impossible idea that would never actually happen, and now it's here and it's better than anything I'd ever imagined.

I'm fit to burst with joy and riding a high of no longer having to hunt for scraps and washing away decades of put-downs for the character and enjoying a Penguin renaissance like one I never imagined happening. I am extremely not an unbiased reviewer here, this show rules and I've waited for it since I was a kid and it's here, drink it the fuck in cause it's only the beginning.

[guardkeywolf]

Don't mind me requesting again cuz your writing is good-

Anyway I need some older male reader that is team GHOST from call of duty ghosts and his team is fucking chaotic like they be almost killing them self's and one of them do stabby another like blowing shit up while male reader don't get enough sleep and be a dad on his team but in the end they get the job done

I just want 141 to meet male readers team during a mission and all of them see his team jumping out a window lol

I just need some chaotic shit

Ghost Soldier!Male Reader + Task Force 141

WARNING: INCREDIBLY CRINGE WRITING

While Captain Y/n is on a mission with his team, they are interrupted...

What matters most though is if they are friend or foe...

Honestly, trying to put a whole scenario like this together was fun and challenging at the same time but worth it @gamersansblog !!!

So I hope you enjoy!

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"Midnight, Hawk, do either of you have eyes on the target yet?" Y/n asked as he let his eyes sweep over the contents in the room. Falcon followed behind him, silently with his gun raised, clearing the room himself before rejoining Y/n's side.

"No sir, not yet," Midnight's heavy feminine voice replied through the radio.

"Just a whole bunch of shit in here, Captain, unless..." Hawk drawed out slowly.

Y/n knew that tone and quickly tried to intervene, "Hawk, I swear if do what I think..."

"Calm down, sir. Why don't we just turn this place inside out?"

"Hawk..." Falcon warned from beside Y/n as he watched his Captain let out a long sigh in front of him.

"Just a little demolition, sir. That's all... it's not like anyone knows we're here anyway. With the guards dead, I doubt we'll be interrupted, " Y/n could have swore he aged faster as he listened to Hawk's suggestion.

Honestly, Y/n was too tired for this shit. It felt like he was baby sitting 3 kids and he couldn't help but wonder if other groups dealt with the same thing.

There mission was simple, take out the guards, retrieve the files, and get out. Really simple shit. Y/n could do it in his sleep if he wanted too. But noooo, the Higher Ups just had to say his team needed to be with him for this operation.

Plus, Y/n doubted that Falcon could deal with all of them if Y/n left him alone with Midnight and Hawk. So he was forced to bring his crazy pyromaniac of a man, the little assassin that would kill just about anything even when Y/n told her not to, and his only good child.

God, being a father of a Ghost Team was hard.

But even so, Y/n wouldn't change it for the world. His team was just about the best thing that ever happened to him and his career. They were his second chance, his redemption. His everything...

"Alright, Hawk, set up those explosives and see if you can find anything. Midnight, watch his back. Falcon and I are gonna make our way over there..." Y/n commanded.

"Understood, sir," and in the background, he could hear Hawk's sinister little giggle and shook his head at his soldier's antics.

"You sure this is the best idea, sir?" Falcon looked worried about this and Y/n didn't blame him for it. They both knew Hawk could go too far when it came to blowing up things.

Last time they left him alone, half of a building managed to disappear.

Y/n shook his head at the thought, not wanting to even remember that mission again.

When he caught sight of Midnight, the woman was throwing her knives at some random crate she was using as target practice.

"Midnight, Y/n told you to stop doing that. You're gonna mess up your knives and then cry about needing to get new ones," Falcon stressed.

Midnight stuck her tongue out at the man and Y/n chuckled.

"Come on Captain tell her!" Falcon pleaded.

Y/n ignored it and looked towards Hawk.

"You ready Hawk?"

"Annnnnd FINISHED!" the man exclaimed happily as he put the last finishing touches on the bomb.

"Good... get ready to...the hell is that sound?" Y/n turned to see a drone watching them outside the window.

"Shit... someone else is here... we're leaving NOW!" Y/n yelled as he made his way to the windows with their repel gear.

"WHO THE HELL ARE THEY?!" Midnight bellowed next to him.

"Doesn't matter! Hawk on my signal you blow this place to hell!"

"What about the files?!" Hawk asked.

"The Captain and I got them on our way to you two! Now hurry your ass up and get ready to repel!" Falcon hollered at him, quickly putting his gear on.

Once they were ready, Y/n didn't take the chance of the enemy spotting them from the window. If anything, these guys were definitely professionals and had yet to show themselves but it didn't bother Y/n one bit. He knew his team was just as good.

So, he turned to the other window, pulling out his P226 and aiming it at the window.

"Hawk, you remember that scene from Fast and Furious where they jumped from building to building?" Y/n asked.

"Yeah, but we don't have a supercar, sir!"

"Well we can try!" Y/n began to run towards the window, shooting it multiple times until to burst into glass shards and they all jumped out.

"NOW HAWK!"

Y/n heard that lovely sound of the explosion going off behind him as they landed on the roof.

"Hell yeah!" Hawk whooped from beside him.

"We can celebrate later...we still need to find who else is here."

Y/n turned to Midnight first.

"I got an idea..."

"Sir?" She tilted her head in curiosity.

"You see anyone even hostile take them out. Hawk fill this place with traps, take Falcon with you."

Hawk nodded and tapped Falcon's arm before leading them away from Y/n and Midnight.

"Alright, let's go see who the hell were dealing with..."

Midnight sent Y/n a smirk as Y/n moved to take point and as they set out to find the intruders.

It didn't take long when they both heard a cry that only Hawk could make and quickly ran towards his yells. Y/n told Midnight to hide the in the grass, dropping into the dirt himself and aiming his rifle at the newfound men that had Hawk and Falcon in their custody.

He heard the gruff British man's voice question who Hawk was working with, who their team was, but Hawk wasn't one to talk.

Y/n made sure personally that they would never talk. He put then through the same exact situation he had been in now. Cornered by the enemy but except this time not alone.

"Midnight, stay down unless shots are fired. Got it?"

She nodded at him before popping up out of the grass.

"I wouldn't move it I were you..."

The men all turned back to him, guns drawn on him while he held his Honey Badger tightly to his chest.

"Who the hell are you?" The man in the skull mask questioned.

Y/n gave him a look before turning back to the man with the fisher hat on.

"You plan on fishing for my soldiers..." he drawed off.

"Captain Price." He answered.

"Ah...I've heard of you... You and your little Task Force. What was it...141, right?"

"Ye now who the hell are you?" He watched the man's grip tighten on his own gun.

"Captain Y/n and you're going to give me back Hawk and Falcon now." Y/n demanded.

"How do I-" he was cut off by another voice going through his radio.

"Yeah but-... Are you sure, Laswell?"

Y/n looked up when he heard Kate's last name leave the older Brits lips.

"You familiar with Laswell?" Y/n asked as he watched the men untie Hawk and Falcon.

"Seems so...and it seems she knows you as well..." Price commented as he watched Hawk and Falcon walk back to Y/n's side.

"Sir, are you sure Laswell said they're green?" The dark skin man asked the Captian.

"I doubt Laswell would lie to us Gaz. That goes for you two as well," Price said, turning to the skull masked man and the slightly shorter man standing next to him.

"So that's a infamous Ghost...I thought he be taller," Hawk.

"He lots pretty damn tall to me, considering he's standing near shortstack over there..." Falcon said.

The shorter man sent him a glare, obviously hearing Falcon's comment, but before he could say anything, Ghost pulled him back.

"He's not worth it, Soap."

Y/n heard a Scottish accent come from the man as he watched the two talk.

"Oh, sir... You should probably tell-" Falcon was too late to warn him when Midnight sprang up from behind Ghost and Soap.

Y/n sent her the scariest death glare in history before the woman's knife even made it near the two men. Only then did Ghost realize Y/n was glaring but not at him and turned around only to see nothing there. When he turned back, there was now a third soldier standing near him that wasn't there.

"Who she?" He cocked his head towards her.

"Midnight." and he left it there.

Price turned to look at them apologetically before letting out a long sigh.

"Sorry about the mishaps, mates. Seems we got you mixed up with someone else, by the way... you know who blew up that building?"

"We did," Y/n said quickly, watching the man's face change to confusion.

"Why did you-"

"Sorry, but we're kinda on a tight schedule so we'll see yall again sometime soon yeah? Nice meeting you, Captain and your team. Lovely bunch, really! Sir, we have go to go." Falcon said as he pulled Y/n away, the man shaking his own head and chuckling himself, with the other two laughing.

"Kids am I right?" Y/n shouted as he sent a quick nod to the Captain before turning to greet his own team as they made their way towards exfil.

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-Guards

[hms-no-fun]

Tell us about Dill and Alexander! I kinda picture them in my head as Kermit and that blue eagle Muppet but gay and gamer/greasy mechanic. Is that where you got the idea? Is sburb's frog fascination gonna play into the story of these boyos?

oh what's that? you want to be the captive audience for a lore dump about my very special guys? completely unprompted and with total investment in everything i might have to say? well well, don't mind if i do!

SO, Dill Croaker and Alexander Falcon are members of a now-defunct group called The Falconers. they are modeled after Star Fox (the team) from Star Fox (the video games). we haven't seen Alex on screen yet, but here's @girlpillz's rendering of Dill for B1 verse 1, where Lenore Lehart shows off her sick bouncy ball skills for Dana Straten to get the attention of Dill.

Alex being a blue falcon, i imagine he looks legally distinct from Falco Lombardi from Star Fox (the video games; the team) albeit less cocky and attitudinous.

there are technical reasons for The Falconers' existence. going into 3.2B, i knew i wanted a secondary supporting cast in the margins capable of handling dirtywork off-screen. for instance, they're decrypting and analyzing Lenore's stolen witch data so the main cast doesn't have to worry about it, leaving us more time to luxuriate in what we're actually here for: feelings.

Star Fox 64 is my favorite game, so when it came time to come up with that supporting cast, the possibilities of a knockoff Star Fox team immediately sold me on the idea (especially since this is the only story where i will ever reasonably be able to get away with such a blatant act of self-indulgence. you wouldn't believe it from looking, but i don't actually do a lot of indulging myself with Godfeels. i try very hard to never throw things in without serious calculation. The Falconers are pretty much the only thing i've introduced that came as an inorganic external mandate of my own selfish making, and even then i've worked very hard to integrate them naturally). as a broken up four-person crew, they mirror the Upsilons-- and so, them helping the Falconers reunite in order to find Alphi and Edie gives these guys some juice. their backstory is a shadow of the Upsilons', and a useful point of comparison as the narrative plugs along. i could've made a girl Star Fox team, but frankly Godfeels is just so women-centered, so female-focused, so tgirl-transfixed that i figured it was about time to throw the boylikers a bone.

The Falconers are balanced as a calculated twist on the Star Fox team. the most immediate difference is that here, Alexander Falcon fills the role of Fox McCloud. he's the charismatic team leader, a little surly (especially these days) but good at his job and deeply committed to the care of his team. Dill Croaker is, obviously, only about five runs through the dryer away from Slippy Toad, and fills the same role. my reason for this is that everyone is mean to Slippy and they're wrong. Slippy is a brilliant engineer and programmer, why do you expect him to be an ace fighter pilot too? that's YOUR job, hotshot! Nintendo themselves have been all over the map with Slippy in terms of characterization, pretty much never getting him quite as right as he felt in 64. so, yeah, Dill is my take on Slippy: a clueless gamer frog who plays with a lot of edgelords but is himself impervious to their venom. he never cusses because he's a good boy, and he respects women.

Dill and Alex have lived together on Crime Planet for a long time. are they fucking? no, i don't believe they are. Dill strikes me as something of an ace king, and anyway i don't think he's Alex's type. mostly they work together in the shop and hang out doing bro stuff. maybe Alex lifts weights while Dill plays shitty space MOBAs. but all this begs the question: who is Alex's type?

as of the B1 solo we've learned a little bit about the other two Falconers. first there is Erol [last name unknown], the oldest member of the crew who's likely analogous to Peppy Hare. which leaves us with Yolo Sionnach. a lot of information can be implied about him from this exchange:

yes, a lot of information indeed. but as much as i would love to enumerate the implications, i must hold my tongue. i mean, i would type it all out, but i can't, because i'm literally using my fingers to hold my tongue in place so that i can't say the spoilers out loud

anyway, i like the muppet comparison. that wasn't what i had in mind at all, but now i'm imagining the Falconers as the puppets Nintendo used to advertise Star Fox Zero and........ ohhhh scope creep you saucy temptress

the Slippy slander is rampant! and that's to say nothing of the ad where muppet versions of Satoru Iwata, Shigeru Miyamoto, and Reggie Fils-Aime slowly transform into Peppy, Fox, and Falco respectively.

i can't say that Sburb/the Universe Engine have much to do with The Falconers' story. they're not godtier, they don't know anything about the UE, they are literally just space mercenary furries. they come from the Lemurian Star System, trained at the Academy on Lemuria, and worked in the Lemurian Sky Corps until starting their own independent outfit as contractors (which i imagine is a fairly common career path in a region racked by interplanetary war and rampant espionage). age-wise, they're in their mid 30s.

thank you for this wonderful question. no one ever asks about the other guys, and i am always dying to talk about the other guys.

[wheredostarsgowhenyoudie]

Once upon a time when employees are being interviewed at SI:

.

.

Interviewer: So what is it like working for Iron Man?

Employee A: Oh! Easy question. I like that. It is an honor, you know. It's what I thought when I joined, and it still is now. But also, I did not expect that SI is a place where we are allowed to prioritize things like family. Like last time, I left my phone on silent at my desk cause I had to go to a meeting. My kid at home was having an emergency and I couldn't be reached. But apparently, Friday, Mr. Stark's AI, keeps track of phone vibrations so she made the report and someone came to notify me. I didn't even know there was a protocol for that. Turns out my daughter was having her period for the first time! And I'm a single father so I had no idea what to do and I was panicking. Next thing I know, an SI nurse came and apparently she was sent by Mr. Stark to walk me through how to help. Apparently, Fri also caught my panic rumblings and triggered 'YOU ARE NOT ALONE PROTOCOL' or something. (*laughing*) The next week, we received an official email introducing a new department called Human Care. They encourage everyone to reach out if we ever find ourselves out of our depths on non company emergency matters.

.

.

Interviewer: How long have you been working here?

Employee B: Eight years, two months, six days and counting.

Interviewer: What's the weirdest thing you've witnessed here?

Employee B: (blanks out)

Employee B (struggling to think): Ahm. Really? Just one? Er- That's a tough one. Maybe that one time they set up a room for everyone to try lifting Thor's hammer? Or wait, no, maybe that time there when flying roombas were everywhere following Mr. Stark and reminding him to eat? Or when a villain came via the vents but before he could come down, Hawkeye accidentally hit him with pepper spray? I don't know, man. Weird things happen a lot. We're used to it by now.

.

.

Interviewer: Do you feel safe working here?

Employee C: Yeah. The avengers live here. But to tell you the truth, I think Happy Hogan and his black tux team of agents scare all the potential bad guys away. I heard rumors that Black Widow personally trains them. Like, I know two of them. Jake, for instance. He's like a giant, and he is intimidating but I saw him crying one time and when I asked him why, he just said Mr. Hogan.

.

.

Interviewer: Which avenger have you met?

Employee D: Oh, I've met two of them. Captain America and Thor. It was odd but one time, they were in the cafeteria and carrying trays of food and I do not mean just one each. Nope. Like, a ton! Like they're feeding an army. But it makes sense. Can you imagine the workout? With bodies like theirs? And the battles they go to? Man, if I have to save the world from aliens, I'll probably need the same nutrition.

.

.

Interviewer: Which avenger is the kindest?

Employee E: Ahm...We all know they're all badass. But kindest, I think Spider-Man. Last Thursday, it was raining, and then Spidey suddenly came all wet and holding a box and I'm gonna quote him now. He said, "Friday, can you please ask Mr. Sam Wilson Falcon sir to come down? The shelter is close and I have a box of puppies and I really, really want to bring them up but Mr. Stark is gonna ban me from the lab again."

Interviewer: Aww. So what happened next? What did they do with the puppies?

Employee E (grinning): Falcon came down, alright. But he came with Iron Man who zoomed past everyone to drag Spidey to the penthouse. I am not sure what I heard but he was muttering about oven toasters and frozen spiderlings? In the end, aome employees volunteered to take care of them. But I believe two of them are at the avengers' floor. We saw Mr. Stark ranting about puppy paw paint marks on his armani.

Interviewer (gasps): Oh my. Was he mad?

Employee E (ends up laughing): Mad? Try grunting fondly? Peter really likes those puppies. Mr. Stark tried to act like he hates them but really, he adores everything about the kid, puppies included. He even had custom made collars with avengers logo made for them.

.

.

Interviewer: I'm sorry? The Winter Soldier was asking directions to where?

Employee F: The Lego Store.

.

.

Interviewer: How would you describe the workload? Do you still get work life balance?

Employee G: I guess it depends. I work in R&D and we're all nerds there. So like, we're typically busy but it's play for us. Some days, we're really cramped with work, mostly when deadlines are nearing or sometimes, we're just really in the zone, we do not want to stop. Peter activated 'NIGHT NIGHT PROTOCOL' for that. Had Fri lock us out of the lab and we had no choice but to go home or nap at the sleep wing. And would you believe? After the product launch, we got emails on mandatory vacation leaves with bonus to spend! Like, who does that? So yeah, it's cool working here.

.

.

And then, there was this:

Interviewer: How does it feel to be the heir of a multibillion dollar top green tech company?

Peter (stares quizzically, dumb-founded): Uhhh-....Look, sorry, I think I'm in the wrong room. I'm not- Maybe you got the wrong questionnaire? I'm just an intern-

Interviewer: Oh. Wait. Is it top secret then? Sorry, I was told of your identity as Mr. Stark's kid so I thought I could ask. But if you're not comfortable-

Peter: WHAT!?? Who said that? They're probably just joking.

Interviewer (chuckles nervously): Ms. Potts did actually.

Peter (freezes): Oh.

Suddenly the door opens and Tony walks in.

Tony: Hey kid, and Ms. Carrenland. How's the interview going? Thought I'd drop by for moral support, you know.

Peter (looks torn, but excuses himself to go to Tony): Uhm, Mr. Stark, can I talk to you for a second? Look, sir, ahm, I think there's been a misunderstanding. The interviewer asks me how it feels to be your heir. Like that's real. I don't-

Tony (has his brows rising to his hairline): Kid. Peter. Breathe.

Peter (groans and sighs embarrassingly): I just didn't want to lie! They mistook me for someone else. It was a misunderstanding!

Tony (smirking): It's really not.

Peter: What?

Tony: Kiddo, I was the one who gave Pep the approval to sign the questions. And really, you've been managing the R&D department and shadowing Pep at management for a year now. You never wondered why I make you do that?

Peter: Oh.

Tony: Yup. Genius child here.

Peter: I just wanted to help. You seem stressed out with the Avengers' work and dealing with the government. I thought I could lend a hand. I didn't- I don't expect you to- I'm not worth that, Mr. Stark.

Tony (scoffs): I beg to differ. Look, I'll be honest with you. Even if you aren't interested in the company, it's still gonna be yours. Look around you, kid. Do you think I let just anyone go around with a free pass at my tower? You have a room at my home. This place is your home, as where as everywhere else that I own. Plus, it's another motivation for you to take care of yourself when you go out as Spidey. Imagine all our employees. They need you, kiddo.

Peter (mumbling softly): I'm just Peter Parker.

Tony (smiles and pats his shoulder): And that is why I chose you.

[crow-aeris]

A Reverse-Robin Wingfic / To Brace Upon Benign Feathers

It starts kinda crack-ish, but then gets kinda emotional-y towards the end ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

===

"TIM!"

He jerked awake, blinking at the ceiling in confusion as his brain slowly registered where he was.

"Tim!" the voice came again, followed by a body slamming into his chest.

"Oomf!" Tim grunted as the air was violently knocked out of his chest. With a tight expression, he reached up and carded a hand through his brother's hair, "Morning, Dick."

"Hi!" the newest addition to the family chirped brightly, his sapphire eyes glowing as bright as a 200,000 lumens flashlight. Brighter than the sun, even. The blue reminds him of Kon and the alien's blue eyes that looked like a wolf-rayet star.

"What time is it?" Tim mumbled, wincing as the five-year-old crawled over him, digging his knee into Tim's kidney and accidentally stepping on his wing.

"It's time for you to get your a- butt in gear and move," Jason called from the door. “Damian’s making breakfast, so Duke asked us to come and wake you.”

Tim groaned, dropping his head back until it banged loudly against the headboard. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough, he could go back to sleep.

Dick cheered when he spotted Jason, the Ficher's Lovebird's bright red-yellow-green wings flaring out as he launched himself at the teen.

Jason grunted as Dick slammed into him but managed to keep his grip steady.

"Hurry up and get ready," Jason said. The cardinal shifted, folding his bright crimson wings against his back as Dick tucked his face into Jason's neck, "B said he's gonna take up to the zoo."

"Zoo! I wanna go to the zoo!" Dick's head shot up as he clutched Jason's shirt.

"I know, Dickie," Jason rolled his eyes fondly, "that's why we're going."

"Okay!" the fledgling chirped, "Tim!"

"Yes?" He lifted his head from the pillow with a slow and tired blink. What he'd give to have Kon here right now.

"Get! Up!" Dick demanded. Jason, the traitor, just laughed. "Or else I'll tell Dami to come get you!"

The falcon hummed, waiting until his brothers disappeared from the doorframe before flipping over and shoving his face back into the pillow.

Everything ached, his back especially, and it wasn't because of Kon, okay, Jason? Tim had been fighting Killer Croc last night, and that bastard got lucky and slammed Tim against a brick wall. His right arm was a huge-ass bruise, and he was not excited to get up.

Maybe if he pretended to be dead, Damian would leave him be...

Who is he kidding? If the harpy eagle was willing to drag a pit-crazed Tim from the brink of suicide, then he was more than willing to dunk Tim in the pits.

Just as he was about to doze off, there was a knock on the doorframe.

"What?" Tim -whined- groaned, not bothering to lift his head from the pillow.

"Hey, Ducky," an amused voice called.

He pouted, turning his head to glare balefully at Duke. The mourning dove smiles, lifting a brow in amusement. Traitor.

"Leave me alone, Duke," Tim grumbled, thankful that Alfred had all the pillows and sheets in Tim's room reinforced since the last time he had a Pit-episode... It had been a whole thing...

Duke raised another eyebrow, mimicking Alfred's patented Disappointed Stare™ quite successfully. Tim doesn't doubt that, at this point, Duke could get even Damian to bend to his will.

And just like Alfred's own stares, Tim, frustratingly, folded under pressure.

For fuck's sake- he was supposed to Wraith, the dead spirit of the Bat's second Shadow revived and out to hunt ne'er do wells as well as the Bats themselves- his goddamn reputation!

"What reputation, Tim?" Duke laughed before strolling over and yanking the covers off of him.

God, Tim hates it when he says things out loud. A side effect of being locked away by Ra's in an attempt to break his spirit or whatever.

He grumbled as Duke hauled him up and out of bed. Annoyingly, the Lazarus pits healed his shitty eyes, that one scar he got from following Shadow around, and the gash in his throat, but not his fucking height. Instead, Tim has to be stuck in this measly five-foot-seven-inch body, while Duke, Bruce, and Damian all got to be fucking six-foot-plus behemoths.

A shake snapped Tim out of his misery.

"Did you even hear what I said?" Duke asked incredulously.

"No," Tim huffed, "I was distracted and decided not to listen to your stupid voice saying stupid stuff."

"Says that one in air jail," Duke replied smugly. Shit, he's right. That fucker. "Tim, I can practically hear you cussing me out. Keep doing this, and I'll have Bruce and Damian hide your coffees and Red Bulls."

"W-"

"And your monsters."

Tim gasped, "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me. Now go get ready. We leave in an hour, and you don't even have a shirt on, Tim."

"It's a fashion choice," he hissed, "you wouldn't understand because you're stupid!"

Duke sighed, plopping Tim onto the floor. He wasn't even surprised when the falcon went boneless, turning into a limp pile of loose limbs and angry hissing, "You're such a child, Ducky."

"This is because I'm gay, isn't it!" Tim demanded, snapping to his feet and flaring out his wings, "This is homophobia!"

"Of course, it is," Duke drily responded before he turned and made for the door, "I'll send Damian up in ten minutes. If you haven't gotten ready by then, I'm allowing him to dress you however he likes."

Duke closed the door gently, but he might as well have slammed it from how ruffled it left him.

Honestly, the gall! How has he, Wraith, Ra's desired heir to the fucking Damon's Fang, fallen so far from his formidable glory?

Nevertheless, Tim forced himself to get ready. He brushed his teeth and washed his face- even "Serial Killers" need clear skin, but was killing fifteen of Black Mask's and the Joker's most trusted really considered killing? Bruce was just overreacting!- and then threw on a short-sleeved shirt, hoodie over that, washed-out ripped jeans, and called it a day.

Tim groaned, desperately craving coffee, caffeine, or something to stave off the complete and utter exhaustion pooling in his head. This was terrible, horrible, and a vile thing to do.

"Timothy," Damian said from where he stood at the table, a plate held in the eagle's hands. He was wearing a bright pink apron covered with flour, and Jason was behind him, wearing a matching pink apron and holding a plate, too. "You finally decided to show your face and detach yourself from that hovel."

"If you want, I could always go back to my so-called Hovel," Tim tilted his head in a challenge.

"Tt," Damian scoffed before sliding a plate to Tim's spot, "Seeing as you have already decided to show your face, and Richard somehow tolerates you, it would be more efficient if you remain here."

Dick was already seated with a glass of strawberry milk, and his pancakes were half-finished and absolutely drowning in maple syrup. Bruce was directly across from Dick, and his pancakes were far more respectable with butter, syrup, bacon, and a cup of coffee. Duke was beside Dick, and he had a plate with fresh fruit, powdered sugar, and a glass of orange juice. Alfred sat at the head of the table with his English breakfast, tea, and a proud smile. Cass was next to Bruce with a bowl of fruit, orange juice, toast, and multiple slices of stolen bacon.

Hesitantly, Tim sat down at the end of the table as Jason rushed over to fill the empty chair between Tim and Duke. Damian, the bull-headed son of a bitch -that bitch being Bruce, because Tim would never call Talia a bitch- decided the best seat wasn't going to be next to Cass, but instead the seat directly in front of Tim. Not in front of Jason, but in front of Tim.

Instead of confronting his feelings like a well-adjusted member of society should, Tim decided the best course of action was to examine his plate of pancakes.

It had fudge drizzled over the top, dusted lightly with powdered sugar, and freshly diced strawberries were placed like a crown with their leaves carefully removed and tossed in a barely noticeable syrup. There was a small bowl of strawberry-lemon zest jam on the edge of Tim's plate, and he could tell that whoever positioned it was diligent. Not a single speck of powdered sugar got onto the outside of the tiny bowl...

Every part of this plate looked like it had been prepared in a five-star restaurant. What more was that this was exactly the same kind of pancakes Damian would make for him as an apology back when Tim was Shadow...

Suddenly, his eyes were beginning to sting, and Tim could feel Damian's stare carve holes into the top of his head. And then, Damian slid over a cup of steaming coffee, and just by looking at it, he knew Damian had made it the way Tim loved.

It was a declaration, an apology, and a promise all wrapped in a simple breakfast…

He took a deep breath and cut into his pancakes, forcing himself to hold back tears as his family chattered around him.

Even after everything that has happened, his flock still accepted him.

Even after everything, Tim was still loved.

[9mothsinspace]

Hearth Cat and Winter Wren

Okay, so I randomly found a dragonlance novel in an old book store with a collection of short stories.

One of which describes a small adventure the original companions had before the war of the lance when they were still in Solace.

And ppl, it's adorable so i'm gonna do a summary and share the good bits here. (Spoilers. Obviously)

We're starting out with a squirrel having a conversation with a cat. The squirrel is distraught because it's caged, afraid of the cat, and hardly fed. It is having strange dreams, though. And squirrel are not supposed to have dreams.

Cut to the Flint. He is in his house, carving, surrounded by some of his young companions and trying hard not to show that he's worried for Tasslehoff. Because he's run off after a 'talking wren' some days ago.

Back to the squirrel and the cat. The cat reveals that it hasn't always been a cat and suspects the squirrel hasn't always been a squirrel either.

To everyone's surprise, a talking wren does indeed turn up in Solace. She tells Sturm and the others that she was turned by a mage, along with a man called Petyr who got turned into a cat. And a kender who became a squirrel. They decide to hurry to their rescue. Raistlin has a plan.

So, (never mind that he shouldn't hold such power yet. He hasn't even taken the test at this point.) Raistlin turns Flint into a shepherd dog, Sturm into a falcon, Caramon into a panther, and Tanis into a fox.

They infiltrate the mage's house, overpower him and force him to turn back bird, cat, and squirrel. Raistlin deals with the mage.

And afterwards, companions and the two rescued people gather in Flint's house again and he gives Wren his carving.

Adorable, right?

The story was written by Nancy Varian Berberick and published in this book:

[inlovewithalotoffandoms]

Ski lodge trip||Part 2

Steve Rogers x teen!daughter!reader

Natasha Romanoff x teen!daughter!reader

Other parings: Josh Matthews x reader

Warning: Overprotective Steve, kissing, cuteness.

Authors Note: Hi everyone! It's finally here! I am so sorry for the long wait. I have been really busy and haven't had the chance to finish this one, as well as not having the best storyline figured out at that time. But now that it's here, I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you all for reading my fics. I really appreciate it.

"What the hell is that?" You asked as Bucky brought out a book.

"This, this is a game we're gonna play. It's called the official guide to who belongs with who." Bucky replied.

"The book's gonna tell us?" Josh scoffs with an eye roll.

"No! I remember that book. That book, is evil." Tony states as his eyes widen in horror at seeing the book again. He then continued,

"The first question is 'If you could change your mate into one animal, what would it be' and the only answer is 'the falcon'."

Bruce and Peter look at him in disbelief.

Steve stares at Tony, "How would you know that?"

Tony glances between everyone in the room and exclaims, "Because I am the Falcon!"

"Of course you are," Nat mumbled. You and Josh glanced at each other, grinning.

"Let's play!" You state, walking over to the couch Josh was sitting on and cuddled up to him.

"Let's find out who belongs with who," Josh says, wrapping his arm around you.

"Don't do it, nobody do it," Tony exclaims, trying to stop this from happening. Only to be ignored by everyone.

"No one ever listens to the falcon." He says to himself as he sat down with everyone else.

"Question number one," Bucky started.

"If you could change your mate into one animal-" You interrupted Bucky, but he interrupted you back.

"Uh, that's not the question," Bucky states. Everyone looked confused, especially Tony.

"The first question is, 'The most important part of any meaningful relationship is, A, romance'." Bucky continued.

"Yes, romance. Isn't that the whole point of a relationship?" Peter says. Tony rolled his eyes,

"It says any relationship. It doesn't just mean you and MJ." Bruce nodded in agreement,

"Yeah, it also means relationships with your friends."

Nat sighed, "So if the answer isn't romance, what else you got?" 

"B, adventure," Bucky says.

"Yes, adventure. Break the rules." Sam nods. Bucky rolled his eyes,

"You don't have to break the rules to have an adventure."

"What do you have against breaking the rules, Sargent Barnes?" Sam asked.

"That's who he used to be, Sam. Cost him years of his life. I think maybe he's learned something." Steve states.

"Read the other choice?" Josh says to Bucky.

"How do you know there is one? " Bucky smirked.

"In multiple choice, there are always close answers, but then there's the correct answer, and as soon as you hear it, you know it's right." You state a matter of factly.

"And I don't think we've heard the right answer yet, so I know the most meaningful part of any relationship is C." Josh grinned.

"C, conversation." Bucky smiled. You and Josh smiled at each other, kissing for a couple of seconds, cuddling up to each other again after the kiss ended.

"I love these now." You say.

"How come?" Steve asked, knowing how you didn't really like hugs.

"Because Tanya and I have had so many good conversations now that I think she trusts me," Josh says. You smiled and mumbled a small, 'I do.' Seeing how sweet Josh was being with you warmed Nat's heart. Seeing her daughter with someone she feels happy and comfortable with makes her happy. Steve, while still being the overprotective father, was starting to warm up to your relationship with Josh.

"So the most meaningful part of a relationship is talking to each other?" Peter asked.

"And with the right person, sometimes you can talk all night," Tony states.

"Yup, maybe so. Well, if y'all will excuse me, I'm gonna go over there to maybe, I don't know, kick a tree." Steve states, getting up and walking outside. Bucky sighed, giving the book to Bruce as he said, "Will y'all excuse me? I'm going to go over there to maybe, I don't know, save a tree." following Steve outside.

"You know what? I'm through playing games. I want to talk to you." Pepper states.

"Who?" The people still in the room asked curiously, at the same time as she grabbed Tony's hand, dragging him to another room. You and Josh had a mischievous glint in your eyes as you smiled and ran upstairs to the room you were bunked in together.

"God help us all," Bruce mumbled as he rubbed his temple in utter annoyance and disapproval.

After a couple of hours, Steve and Bucky came back inside.

"Where's Y/N and Josh?" Steve asked. Bruce and Peter glanced at each other in second-hand embarrassment.

"Up there," Peter states, pointing to one of the rooms upstairs. Steve's eyes widen in disapproval.

"Oh, hell no!" He exclaimed as he ran up the stairs.

[nevereverthem]

Gotham : Season 1 Episode 3

Earlier than I thought, here I am watching the third episode of the show.

Honestly, I can't wait to see what happens with Oswald because dude kidnapped a guy to ask for ransom... that he did not get. 🤣😭 I'm still not over the mother not believing it AT ALL.

My silly little crush wants to see Alfred so much! 🙄 I'm also all for having Brucey in his emo phase as I like to call it. I know that's not it, but just the 10 seconds frame of Bruce listening to metal-ish singers while doodling on a piece of paper was 🤌.

Selina is going to save her ass, but that sucks for the other kids though! She is one of the main characters, of course, but the other kids got their ass sent upstate! Don't you forget about that. 🥲

Anyway, here we go.

"There's a war coming..." Aaaaahhhhh! Honestly, starting the episode with Oswald's voice as a 'previously in Gotham' sort of thing, warms my heart. 😌

Gotham's streets... A bus... Oswald Cobblepot in a freaking pullover! Man is gonna be wearing a suit most of the time in the future. Let's enjoy these precious moments of him in casual clothing. 😌 The SMUDGE BLACK MAKEUP!! I know the man's got dark undereyes from exhaustion, but still.

Dude sees : Kids stealing a wallet from someone's back pocket. A cop taking money from an old asian guy. A man stealing a woman's bag. Prostitutes proposing their services to a person in a car... And all that Oswald is thinking is "home, sweet home". 🤣🤣😭😭

Okay, the story starting with a rich guy (Ronald Danzer) who did some shit. He's out on bail and plans on paying for his freedom and sneaking out to escape any problems. Like dude! That is sadly a great representation of how it works in real life too... 🙃

Balloons! And did you see that pig mask!? Foreshadowing I guess!? 😏

Oh MY! Cuffed to a balloon and being pulled up in the air!? That's so cool & terrifying at the same time. 😱

💥 INTRO TITLE 💥

Not the same punch as Oswald stabbing someone in the neck, but we'll settle for it.

Jim! 😍

"No body. We're calling it a murder?" I mean... If the guy went up until there was no oxygen available and died... I suppose it is. 🤷‍♀️ We'll see. Or, if he went that far up and then fell... He probably died from the fall... somewhere. So, it would be a murder.

For once, agreeing with Harvey. The man kinda got "what he deserved". I mean... It's a bit strong... But he probably ruined lots of people's lives so...

Bill Cranston... Switches so fast to being angry to having a hypocritical smile on his face... Dude. X) Okay, so the guy does interviews by beating people down with a little statue? I... 🙃

Hey, that's what I said! Two people killed themselves because Ronald Danzer ruined them...

Oh! Jim bringing up the Mario Pepper case! Ah!

Selina! 😌

Did she really steal Harvey's PEN!? 🤣🤣

Selina "I can see in the dark" Kyle. x) Kitty cat Kat

I don't know why, but Jim and Selina facing eachother with both hands on their own hips just makes me laugh. x)

Selina cuffed to a staircase. Legit... She's using the pen she stole to free herself from the cuffs? Damn! Plus, payoff!

Jim in the sewer. Yuk! Shoes in dirty water.

"Son of a bitch! She was telling the truth." 🤣 (Reminds me of Dean from Supernatural iykyk)

"Oh, Detective!" in Selina's sing-song voice. 🤣🤣 How she throws him back the cuffs in the sewer!

Jim's groan of frustration. 🙄

Fish! Oh no, Lazlo got beaten hard damn. 😮

Fish directly telling Montoya and Allen that Jim killed Oswald. Bitch! 🤣🤣 I mean, great move though. That's technically what happened, although he didn't actually do it. I love when the 'bad guys' tell the truth and it does serve their interests.

"Jim Gordon pulled the trigger, but who gave the order?" Yeay! Mama tryna bring Falcone down!!

"I just want justice for little Oswald." 🤣🤣 I would believe the earth is flat more than that blatant lie! 🤣🤣

Speak of the devil... 🙄

Oswald counting coins... What did he do with the guy he kidnapped? For real, are we ever gonna know? I suppose he killed him, but I would like to get some real answers. 😅

Pocket knife. 😭😭 For food at least...

"Hey, Cobblepot! You're supposed to be dead." Fuck! I wasn't expecting that.

"I'm afraid you have me confused. My name is Dimitri-" Still, the way he talks... 🥵 Plus, did he try to pull off a fake accent? x)

Oh no! Each time Oswald pleads not to be killed is... 😮

"I couldn't stay away. Gotham is my home. It's my destiny. You don't see what's coming. I do. Gotham needs me. I'm its future." Dude sounds like a cult prophet. 🤣😭 He's right though. Foreshadowing at its MAX. x)

Ouch! Achilles tendon! 😮 Killed. By the way, how Oswald manages to get rid of guys who should have physical dominance over him always impresses me.

His teeny-tiny walk! 🐧

"Can I have a tuna sandwich please?" Aw, he can be so soft... when he's been so violent ten seconds before. Bro! 🙃 I love the callback to episode 1. The first time he slits the throat of a stranger to steal his sandwich. The second time, he kills a bad guy, takes his money and actually buys the sandwich. 😌 Can someone draw Ozzie eating a tuna sandwich? 🥹 I just love seeing characters do every day activities. 😌

Waynes' manor! 😍 Okay, I might just like little Brucey ☺️ and crush hard on Alfred. 🙄

Alfred teaching Bruce fencing? Aaww.

"En garde." Aaaahhhh! I know it's the actual term for the sport practice, but each time a character says a french word, I just melt! 🫠 I am french, so just hearing my language makes me somehow proud! And boy... I'm wet. 🤣🤣 Kidding, alright. But it's AWESOME!! Plus, that's Alfred who says it. 🙄🥰

And how is the actor so good at manipulating that cane (used as a replacement for the foil)!? I'm so impressed!

By the way, that scene must have been so much fun for Bruce's actor at the time. 😌

Alfred apologizing to the armor he accidentally hit. 🤣

*Alfred hitting Bruce on the thigh or butt, not sure* "That's gotta hurt." BITCH. 🤣🤣

How did Bruce got the police file of his parents' murder? Okay, he said it wasn't hard. I suppose he just payed them. But how? I don't know if he has access to his money on his own. He's 11. Doesn't he have to get Alfred's authorization or something because he is his legal guardian? Anyway. 🙄

Bruce "If I find a clue, I am" Wayne. 🥲

Jim scrapping mud from his shoes with a paper knife? x)

Montaya straight up asking Jim about him killing Oswald. Not wasting time with innuendos. Effective.

"I didn't kill him." Which is the ACTUAL TRUTH! That's the best part. x) He is both praised and condemned for something that he did not do! I like that SO MUCH! x)

Oswald searching for a job.

"You don't even have the right shoes." Him directly looking down behind at one of the staff's shoes and grinning evilly... Is he planning on killing for SHOES now!? 🙃🙃

By the way "Here, you're on your feet all day." Me, thinking about his bad leg. 🥲

Jim and Harvey arguing about the whole situation of the Waynes' murder...

"For the last time Gordon, let it go."

"Or what? Am I gonna be the next person taken out to the pier to get a bullet in the head?"

AH! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

OSWALD!! You actually really... The shoes. 😭😭

"What size are your shoes?" Blabla "What a coincidence!" 😭😭 His laugh. 😭😭

I CANNOT.

That reinforces the feeling that I have about the fisherman's sandwich scene... That was not Oswald's first murder... Surely not... And if it was... Dude's taking a long way down... 😭🙃

Right now, I'm just thinking about Oswald telling his story to Edward, like the very first steps he took into his villain career... That would be something. 🤣😭

The interview.

Oh, 4 balloons... Who are gonna be the three other supposed-to-be victims then? 🤔

"47$?" - "You're a disgrace to drug dealers." Okay, chuckled a bit. 🙄🙃

Cranston!? OMG, I did not even recognise the guy. 😱 Honestly... I don't really mind... We saw him once... But I don't think he really deserved the balloon thing... Man... That's tough...

Attached by the ankle is worse though.

In the night with a lot less witnesses too!

ALFRED! 😍😍 No, I won't shut up.

Bruce reading the newspaper. Yeah, totally doing that at 11. 🙃

Bruce, GIMME YOUR BREAKFAST! 😋 The lil' flower though. PLEASE!

"What's the new program? Trying to see how long you can go without eating anything? If that's the case I should save myself the trouble of making it." 🔥 DAMN! 🔥 I love how he doesn't miss a moment to shoot! x) By the way, Alfred... You can make breakfast for me. 🙄 Breakfast in bed? Breakfast in your bed... in OUR bed... 🙄

Alfred is trying SO HARD. 🥲😭

Gun holder, the gun, the tie, Jim's gaze straight into the camera aaaahhhh!! 😍 Man's going into battle!

Barbara! 🥰

"[newspaper talk] It says he killed a cop. You're not in danger, are you?" GIRL! Your man is a cop... in GOTHAM. He is in danger every second of his life!

"Everyone has to matter or nobody matters." -Jim Gordon. That did something to my heart. 💔❤️‍🩹

Barbara calling Jim a "hero" because he caught Mario Pepper for the Waynes' murder... That hits hard...

Jim talking about the fact that the balloon man's targets are dirty public figures... And Harvey going "Basically any elected official should stay indoors." is so legit. 😭😭

"Listen, one thing I know is how to find someone." Harvey chatting with prostitutes... I mean, he's not wrong! They can have a lot of informations. Tough job it is! Then he beats a guy down... Typical Harvey. 😅 Stopping to get food. TYPICAL HARVEY! That was the fastest summary of his character. x)

The SHOES. 😭😭 Oswald...

Him realising that he's been hired in a Mob boss owned restaurant! 🤣🤣 His FACE. 🤣🤣 Sorry Ozzie, but you deserve it a bit. "Don Maroni!"

"Great opportunity indeed." Oswald... I can't with him. x)

Harvey got so much informations about the guy they're searching for... Okay, I have to admit that's a damn skill! Respect.

DAMN! Harvey 'woman-handled', thrown around. I appreciate that. Sorry. 🙄

Lazlo being actually worried about Fish is so cute. 🥺

What!? Bitch is getting rid of some girl I didn't understand... AND Lazlo. I... 😭

Barbara. Oh hi Montoya!

Montoya HAS THE KEY!? DAMN!!

OMG yeah, Barbare is smoking... weed I suppose. Okay okay... 🤔

Talking about Jim...

"When we were together I did lie to you." I KNEW IT!! Former lovers! Aaaaahhhh

She's talking about being sober for a year etc... What she did blabla... What did Montoya DO!? 😮

Failed attempt at a kiss. I saw that coming. RIP.

Barbara being with another person (Jim) who might also be lying to her... The pattern is repeating itself... Girl must be feeling so down.

OMG the balloons are gonna pop? It's gonna rain bodies? 😭😭 Imagine you're going about your day and then a dead body falls from the sky... 😨

Totally what happened. The woman who died though. RIP for real... 🙏

A church guy being the third victim? Not surprised... 😅🙃

Maroni talking about Arkham!! I'm so excited!!

Obviously, Oswald listening in the background...

New name : Paolo. He's really trying, but he gets it wrong. x)

He's lying about being Italian on his mother's side, "the side that he claims", but the truth is that he actually does love his mother. Half lies. x)

Maroni just gave him money out of the blue?

The little talk about starting from nothing and making yourself by working hard etc... FORESHADOWING!! 😌

"Gotham is the city of opportunity." Hum... Shouldn't it be 'Gotham is the city of crimes'? x)

"Honestly sir, I didn't hear anything at all." "Atta boy." YES!! That's actually the ONLY way to react when you are asked if you heard ANYTHING! 😌

"Go take care of your mother, Paolo." That would be so sweet... but you know... x)

The walk! I like the fact that even when we just see his upper body, Oswald's actor actually always does the walk! I mean, that's part of the character so you HAVE to do it, but like, you notice it, you actually do notice it, and I love that about him! 🥰🐧

The guy actually hiding in the former juvi facility. Meh, can't be smart about everything. Gotta catch the guy 9 minutes before the end of the episode ya know. x)

Is it a TRAP!? Like for Harvey, or Gordon? 😮

Oops. Harvey's been caught.

Harvey pleading his case to the killer saying that he's thankful, that he's doing them a favor. Great defence. 🤣🤣

Oh my God... The killer's talk though... He's so right... Public figures almost never pay for their crimes... So he did justice himself... I feel that man...

Jim's conflicted because he knows that the man's right...

FUCK!! The whole man's speech!! This is the premise of Jim's morality path... Damn it!

NNNNNOOOO! Harvey cuffing the guy to the balloon was a fucked up move! Jim grabbing the man! Please I hoped he would, but damn he's flying in the air with him now. 😭😭

Jim didn't want to let go and begged (ordered?) Harvey to shoot the balloon instead! THANK GOD! Jim, you're doing so good there. I know you're gonna go somehow dark later, but for now... freaking thank you!

The landing on the top of the pickup must have hurt though. 😅

Falcone!!

OMG Natalia was Falcone's "girl"... 😮 That's the one Fish ordered to get into an "accident". 😭

Arkham again... Damn.

Btw, Fish's makeup. 🤌

Damn. Who's the guy's last target?

Bruce's "He killed people too. That made him a criminal." Okay, let me get this straight. I don't condone murder, but I get the idea that sometime you need to be a bad guy to do good. Imagine if killing that guy now would prevent a hundred innocent people to be killed. Killing is not something right to do, but in that context, you kill one to save the others, you know? What I mean is... It's a tough subject, but if killing one person saves a lot of others... And I mean one actual bad person against kind of good people... and I don't really mean "good people", just people who actually did not do terrible things, you know. I don't even know if I would be capable of doing something like that, but the self righteous belief that killing is bad in every context... I don't think it's true. Anyway.

Alfred with his APRON. 🫠 Make me dinner too. 🥰 Please. 🙄🥰

Alfred witty remarks. x)

Bruce is EATING, finally dude.

Jim, home, must be full of bruises, damn. The man struggles to sit down. He didn't break a bone because it's a tv show, hum. 🙄

Barbara concerned again. 🥲

Seeing Jim's face... It's like he's really been 'moved' by the balloon man's speech. It's like an electroshock. I feel like he's about to tell Barbara about Oswald. 🤔 (he did not, oops)

"I want you to know that you can tell me anything." BRO! She's giving you a chance to come clean. I mean, technically you are clean, but ya know.

"This city's sick. Sick in a way I hadn't realised." For real though. 🙃 Harvey told you in the first episode. 🙃

"Doesn't matter" That's the 'last target'? Disappointing, but I get it. That also genius 'cause basically the guy only had 4 balloons, but there's way more people that would 'need' to be cuffed to it...

Jim's speech on people, justice, the law... 👌

Barbara wants to believes him so bad! Girl's crying!

OOOOHHHH, the knock knock knocking... Tell me... I think I saw that... That's him right? HIM!?

OSWALD!! 🎉 In a SUIT!! I told YOU!! (Btw, did he buy a new suit with the money Maroni gave him ? Or did he take his suit to dry-cleaning to get rid of the blood stains? Just wondering 🤔) He wanted to look good for Jim. 🙄 Let me fantasize. x)

"Hello, James. *huffs* Old friend." AAAAHHHH!!

He's already calling him 'old friend'. 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I guess throwing you into the water, instead of shooting you, makes him somehow closer to a friend than an enemy, but... 🤣🤣😭😭 The AUDACITY!! x)

Jim's face. Oswald's smile. AH!

Jim had a freaking day... and it's not over. 😭

FUCKING HELL. MY GOD. I... AWESOME.

I don't even know what to say... Just... My brain's not working anymore...

[Okay, a tiny bit disappointed that we didn't see Edward this time, but I know there is going to be a lot of him in the future. So that makes up for it.]

1. Alfred did not say "bloody", not even once, in the whole damn episode!! 😮 I'm utterly disappointed!! 😔 But I still like him, of course. 🙄🥰

Late additions, two hours later, when my brain decides to function again :

Like, comment, loose your shit with me... It's your choice!!

2. Barbara will at least be relieved that her boyfriend is NOT a liar (not really yk) nor a murderer. Because here he is : Oswald Cobblepot, flesh and blood!! 😌

3. The fact that Barbara is BI, BI, BI! 🎶

Looking forward to the next episode!! 🫶

[knoxise]

the way shades linger -- a indie/folk playlist for hades game patroclus + achilles (patrochilles)

tracklist and matching lyrics under the cut (playlist icon by wolfythewitch); will be perpetually updated and adjusted

Memory - Aristos the Musical (I wish I had a secret; I wish I had a thousand; just so I could tell him every single one)

You Woke, I Waited - PigPen Theatre Co. (When we are older, we'll hear our bodies say; Oh; We'd find the mountain, survive)

A Long Way Past the Past - Fleet Foxes (I'll know that it's true; that rebirth won't work like it used to be; and oh, man, was it that much better then?)

Ghost's Fingers - Lambs & Wolves (We'll meet where this body ends; Have you ever met a ghost hiding his hands?)

Another Involved - Cold Weather Company (There's another involved, there's a pain in these walls)

Wait It Out - Imogen Heap (Everybody says that time heals everything; But what of the wretched hollow? The endless in between?)

Can You Stay - The Family Crest (Can you stay; Cause you have my heart; Cause you've been mine for all of time)

Open Water Reckless Fishes - Squalloscope (Left all the good ones behind; Not because I wanted to, but because it was time)

Will Tomorrow Ever Come - Cold Weather Company (If time is our debt, what do we owe? Will I see you soon?)

You, Anything For - The Soil & The Sun (You could be the one who I would bleed for; Salt in my wound and seethe for)

Meet You At The Gate - Jayne Trimble (I will meet you at the gate; I don't mind if I've to wait; Cause, oh, it takes a little time to taste the fruit of the vine; show me the way to your heart)

Fair - The Amazing Devil (And clinging to the moment, "Where have you been?" She'll whisper, "I've waited, oh, so long for you to come")

Two Shadows - Benjamin Verdoes (You wanted to unravel, you wanted to escape; Here's the last place we kissed; But we're not trying to speak)

O Icarus - Aristos the Musical (This moment seems like memory; I'm grieving breathing, and the grief is air)

I Design Disasters - Robert Hallow and The Holy Men (And when I am alone; I trace your shape in the air beside me; Give it time love, I know you're wanting more)

Ribcage - Ash the Ghost (There's a ghost of who we were living in my spine; Maybe if we run away we can bring it back to life; Let it sink into our lines and edges)

Calling It Love - Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (Am I another home you lost in the flood; and are you the only living thing that I will ever touch?)

A Better Time to Meet - Adrianne Lenker & Buck Meek (I never feel more found than when I'm wandering; But to hear that quiet voice, I'd give up everything; To follow the soft sighing of the sea)

Always Gold - Radical Face (Yeah, everything goes away; But I am gonna be here until forever, so just call when you're around)

Everybody Here Is A Cloud - Cloud Cult (There's so much more to see in our darkest places; Have you found where your place is?)

The Moon/Awake - The Dear Hunter (How'd we lose our place? Who decided out fate? I'd bare you my heart if I knew that it was still there; I'm too nervous to look)

Rule #33 - Pyre - Fish in a Birdcage (When I looked in your eyes, I said I know you'll be fine; Trust yourself and live it your way)

You and I - Domimi Foster (You and I always were waiting; For the inevitable fall; Can we have one hour longer than this?)

My Love Goes To The Grave - Jayne Trimble (I can't go back, I've done you wrong; This is where I belong, where I'm going you cannot come)

Empty Hall Sing Along - Woodpigeon (Since you came, I don’t know what way is up and where I stand; or where I can; words take on a different plan)

True Love - Emily Brown (True love, tell me what's in your soul; Right when you're most at peace, that's when you lose control)

Shadow Boy - Little Moon (I whisper out your name, knowing you can hear; And you are here; I am here)

The Night We Met - Lord Huron (I don't know what I'm supposed to do; Haunted by the ghost of you)

You Are - Mother Falcon (What is dear to me? You are what is dear to me)

Let's Go Home - Cold Weather Company (Though you know I'll always turn back to you; And wonder what a little more time could prove; I just can't keep being like this)

Resurrection Fern - Iron & Wine (In our days we will live, like our ghosts will live; like stubborn boys with big green eyes, we'll see everything)

Sleeping World - Vancouver Sleep Clinic (I'm a wandering soul, lost in a city of homes; I don't see anything else, cause I'm just learning to hold you above a sleeping world)

Death with Dignity - Sufjan Stevens (Spirit of my silence, I can hear you; but I'm afraid to be near you, and I don't know where to begin)

You Are the Moon - The Hush Sound (Darkness, darkness, everywhere, do you feel all alone?; You don't see what you possess, a beauty calm and clear)

[ironwitchpainter]

Star Trek: Planetary Perception and Pursuit, Episode 6: The Imperial Falcon

The next few days on the Enterprise are a whirlwind of activity. Kirk notices the change in his two best friends, the way they look at each other, the gentle touches, the lingering conversations. He feels a pang of happiness for them, but also a twinge of sadness for the potential loss of the trio's dynamic. Yet, he knows that love and friendship are not static things, they evolve, they grow. And as he watches Spock and McCoy navigate their newfound feelings, he can't help but feel proud of the man he's become, the captain who's learned to embrace the illogical, the human, the love.

"Spock, McCoy," Kirk calls out, his voice cutting through the bustle of the ship's corridor. "A moment of your time, if you please." The two men turn, their eyes meeting briefly before they walk over to him. "I just wanted to say," Kirk clears his throat, trying to find the right words, "that I'm here for you both. No matter what happens, you know that."

"Of course, Captain," Spock replies, his voice measured and calm, yet laced with a hint of vulnerability that Kirk has rarely heard. "Your support is appreciated and valued." He looks at McCoy, the softness in his gaze speaking volumes about the depth of his feelings for the doctor.

"What's this about, Jim?" McCoy asks, his eyes searching Kirk's. His voice holds a note of concern, as he's aware that Kirk isn't one for overt emotional declarations. He wonders if his captain has some bad news to impart.

"It's nothing like that," Kirk assures them with a gentle smile, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "I just wanted to remind you both that no matter what happens in the future, I'll support you. You're my friends, my brothers, and I'll always be here for you." His gaze flickers between them, acknowledging the unspoken change in their relationship without delving into specifics.

"Jim," McCoy says, his Southern drawl thick with a blend of curiosity and concern, "you got me worried now. What's going on? You think we're gonna get fired or something? Because if it's about me and Spock..." His voice trails off as he looks from Kirk to Spock, then back again, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"No, Bones," Kirk laughs, gripping their shoulders more firmly. "It's nothing like that. I just had a... a feeling, you know? Like something big is happening, and I want you to know that I'm here for you." He releases them and steps back, his expression earnest. "We've faced so much together, and I don't expect that to change. But if you ever need advice, or just someone to talk to, I'm your man."

Spock looks at Kirk with a newfound respect, understanding the depth of their friendship in a way he never had before. The captain's unwavering support, even in the face of the unknown, is a testament to their shared experiences and the bonds they've forged in the crucible of space.

"Thank you, Jim," McCoy says, his voice gruff but sincere. "I reckon we've all got some figuring out to do. But knowing you're here makes it a little easier." He glances at Spock, who nods in agreement.

"Jim," McCoy says, his voice dropping to a low murmur that only Kirk can hear, "I don't know if you've noticed, but things have... changed between Spock and me." He rubs the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "Could we maybe... have a chat in private? I'd appreciate your perspective on all this, if you've got the time." His eyes dart to Spock, who nods solemnly, indicating his consent for the conversation.

"Of course, Bones," Kirk replies, clapping McCoy on the shoulder. "Spock, you're with me." He leads the way to his quarters, a sense of gravity weighing down the steps of the three men as they navigate the corridors of the Enterprise.

The captain's quarters are a sanctuary of sorts, the walls lined with the physical books Kirk cherishes. They sit down, the tension palpable in the air. Kirk pours three glasses of Saurian brandy, handing one to each of them. He takes a sip, his eyes never leaving his friends. "Alright, spill it. What's going on?"

McCoy starts, his voice low and deliberate. "Spock and I... we've realized we have feelings for each other that go beyond friendship." He takes a deep breath, looking into his drink. "It's complicated, and we're not sure how to navigate it. But we wanted you to know."

Kirk's eyebrows shoot up, but his expression quickly morphs into one of understanding. He nods slowly. "I see," he says, setting his glass down. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. You two have had a connection that's always been... special. But I want you to know that nothing changes here."

Spock speaks up, his voice a soothing bass. "Our relationship will indeed require careful consideration and adjustment. However, our primary concern is the welfare of the crew and the success of our missions."

Kirk nods, leaning back in his chair. "And that's what I expect from both of you. But as your captain and as your friend, I want to make sure you're okay. Love isn't something you can just set aside for duty. It's a part of you, a part of who you are."

McCoy takes a deep breath, his eyes glistening. "Jim, I've never felt this way before. It's scary and exciting all at once." He looks at Spock, who meets his gaze with a soft nod of understanding. "But I know I can't ignore it."

Kirk reaches out and squeezes McCoy's hand. "And you shouldn't have to. We're not just colleagues, we're a family. We're here to support each other, through the missions and the... personal stuff." He gives them both a firm nod. "Now, I'm not going to say I'm an expert on love, but I do know a thing or two about navigating the stars. And if you two can handle that, you can handle anything."

McCoy chuckles, his Southern drawl thick with emotion. "You're right, Jim. We're not navigators in the traditional sense, but we've charted some pretty wild courses together." He looks at Spock, who nods in agreement. "We'll figure it out, just like we always do."

Spock's eyes shine with something unmistakably human. "Thank you, Captain," he says, his voice tinged with sincerity. "Your understanding and support are most appreciated."

Kirk smiles warmly, his eyes holding a hint of the mischief that so often gets him into trouble. "Well, as long as you two don't start fighting over who gets the last slice of pizza in the mess hall, we'll be just fine." He stands up, his glass of brandy still in hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a ship to run. And I suspect you two have some... private matters to discuss."

McCoy laughs, the sound a little shaky. "We'll try not to let it affect our work, I promise." He takes a sip of his brandy, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through his chest.

Spock rises to his feet, his movements deliberate. "Thank you for your understanding, Captain." He nods once, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation.

Kirk claps them both on the shoulder. "Remember, my door's always open," he says, his voice serious. "Now go on, get out of here. I've got reports to sign off on, and I'm sure you two have... more interesting things to do." He winks, the moment of seriousness passing.

McCoy and Spock exchange a look, a silent conversation passing between them. They finish their drinks and stand, Spock's hand reaching out to take McCoy's. It's a simple gesture, but one filled with new meaning. They exit Kirk's quarters, leaving the captain to his paperwork.

In the quiet of the corridor, McCoy looks up at Spock. "Where to?" he asks, his voice a little unsteady.

Spock considers for a moment before leading them to the nearest turbolift. "To the observation deck," he decides. "It is a logical place to discuss illogical emotions."

The turbolift doors close, and the soft hum of the engines seems to echo the tumult of their hearts. McCoy's hand is still in Spock's, warm and alive, a reassurance that this isn't just a fleeting moment.

As the lift ascends, McCoy squeezes Spock's hand gently. "You know, Spock, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually looking forward to the challenge of figuring this out with you." His voice is a mix of excitement and nerves.

Spock looks down at their joined hands, his expression unreadable. "Nor did I, Doctor," he admits. "However, the potential for growth and understanding that lies within this... relationship... is intriguing."

The turbolift arrives with a soft ding, and the doors open to reveal the vast expanse of stars outside the observation deck windows. They walk out, the quiet hum of the ship's systems a gentle backdrop to their conversation.

McCoy releases Spock's hand and walks over to the windows, looking out at the stars. "You know, I've seen a lot of galaxies, a lot of planets, but nothing quite like this," he says, his voice filled with wonder.

Spock joins him, his gaze following McCoy's to the stars. "It is a humbling reminder of the vastness of the universe and the multitude of life forms that exist within it," he agrees. "And yet, amidst all this complexity, we find ourselves drawn to each other."

They draw closer together, looking into each other's eyes. The warmth of McCoy's gaze is met with the soft glow of Spock's, a silent acknowledgment of the profound connection that has grown between them. Their hearts beat in sync with the rhythm of the ship's engines, a testament to the unity they share amidst the cosmic dance of stars.

McCoy takes a deep breath, his hand finding its way back to Spock's. "I know this is all new for you, Spock, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. No matter what happens, I'll stand by your side."

Spock's grip tightens around McCoy's hand, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he processes the human's words. "And I, you, Doctor," he says, his voice a whisper in the vastness of the room. "Our bond has always been strong, and I believe it will only grow stronger as we navigate these new waters."

They stand in silence for a few moments, the stars their silent witnesses. Then, with a gentle tug, Spock leads McCoy closer, until their bodies are almost touching. "Tell me," he says, his voice low and earnest, "what is it like to love someone, not as a friend, but as... more?"

McCoy turns to face Spock fully, his eyes searching the Vulcan's. "It's like... it's like when you find that one piece of the puzzle that you didn't even know was missing. Suddenly, everything makes more sense, feels more complete. It's a mix of excitement and fear, knowing that you've found something rare and precious, and not wanting to lose it."

Spock nods slowly, processing the human metaphor. "And the fear," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, "does it ever subside?"

McCoy smiles softly, his thumb brushing the back of Spock's hand. "Sometimes it does, but mostly, it just becomes a part of the love. It's like the shadow that follows the sun. You can't have one without the other."

"I wish to attempt to alleviate your fear, doctor," Spock says, his voice steady and reassuring. "Emotions, even those of a romantic nature, can be understood and managed through logic and experience. We have faced many challenges together, and I am certain that we can navigate this new aspect of our relationship with the same precision and care."

"I believe you, Spock," McCoy says, his eyes never leaving Spock's. "But, I also know that this isn't something we can solve with a Vulcan nerve pinch or a medical tricorder reading." He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. "It's going to be a journey, and I'm ready to take it with you."

"Leonard," Spock says, his voice low and earnest, "I wish to express my commitment to you in the most human way I know how." He takes a deep breath, the words feeling foreign yet oddly natural on his lips. "You will not lose me. I will never cease to love and support you, regardless of the uncertainties or complexities that may arise."

McCoy's eyes widen slightly, his heart racing. He feels the warmth of Spock's words resonate through his entire being. "And I you, Spock," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

"Does this assurance, this logical commitment to our bond, serve to mitigate the fear you spoke of earlier?" Spock asks, his gaze unwavering. "The concept of losing something precious is inherently illogical, as what we share is not merely a possession, but an ever-evolving connection."

"It does, Spock," McCoy admits, his thumb still stroking the back of Spock's hand. "But, like I said, fear's a part of it. It's what makes love so... human." He smiles, a gentle curve of his lips that reaches his eyes.

"Doctor," Spock says, his voice a mix of affection and amusement, "if you continue to maintain that gentle pressure and rhythmic motion against my hand, I will be compelled to reciprocate in kind." He takes a moment to compose himself, the warmth from McCoy's touch seeping through his skin.

McCoy laughs, a sound that fills the observation deck with warmth. "Alright, point taken," he says, releasing the pressure slightly. "But, I've got to say, the human part of me is enjoying this." He looks into Spock's eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort or uncertainty.

"In truth, Dr. McCoy," Spock says, his voice even softer, "I wish to reciprocate. May I kiss you?" The question hangs in the air, charged with vulnerability and anticipation. His gaze never wavers, and his eyebrows tilt up slightly, a subtle expression of hope.

McCoy's smile widens, his eyes shining with affection. "Yes, Spock," he whispers, leaning in slightly. "You may."

Spock leans down, his movements precise yet tender. Their lips meet in a gentle kiss, the first of its kind between them. It's a moment that seems to stop time, their hearts beating in a harmony that resonates throughout the observation deck. The stars beyond the windows seem to shine brighter, a silent applause to their newfound love.

As they pull back, McCoy's hand comes up to cup Spock's cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of the pointed ear. "I can't believe we're doing this," he murmurs, his voice filled with wonder and a touch of awe.

"Dr. McCoy, your enthusiasm is quite endearing, but I must remind you of the necessity to maintain composure." Spock's eyes twinkle with amusement. "You did say you wished to take it slow. Or has that changed?" His voice is a gentle reminder, a blend of affection and logic.

McCoy laughs, the sound echoing in the quiet of the observation deck. "I did, didn't I?" He takes a step back, though his hand lingers on Spock's face for a moment longer. "But, sometimes, the heart just can't be tamed."

Spock nods, his features relaxing into a rare smile. "Understood, doctor. However, we are not animals driven solely by instinct. We are capable of rational thought and self-control." He steps closer again, his hand moving to cover McCoy's.

"I suppose that's what you're doing, then, Spock?" McCoy asks, his voice teasing yet earnest. "Applying that legendary Vulcan logic to the chaos of love?"

"Indeed, Dr. McCoy. It is essential to approach this new aspect of our relationship with a clear mind and a commitment to understanding each other's needs and limitations. Our bond has always been strong, and I intend to honor it with patience and consideration."

"Doctor, I find myself curious about your knowledge of Vulcan physiology, particularly concerning the sensitivity of our hands. In our culture, the physical touch between bonded individuals can hold significant meaning and be quite intense." Spock's gaze is focused and inquisitive, his hand still covering McCoy's. "As we continue to explore this connection, I wish to ensure that any physical intimacy is as emotionally resonant for you as it is for me."

McCoy's thumb stops its movement on Spock's hand, the question hanging in the air like a delicate thread of spider silk. He considers Spock's words, his own curiosity piqued. "I've read about it, of course, but I'd love to learn more from you, Spock. Maybe it's time for a personal anatomy lesson?"

Spock's expression softens, and he leans in, closing the space between them. His lips press against McCoy's in a kiss that's not just gentle, but deep and searching. The warmth of McCoy's hand seems to pulse through Spock's body, setting off a cascade of sensations that he's never quite felt before. His own hand moves to the back of McCoy's neck, his long fingers tangling in the soft hair, as he deepens the kiss. It's a moment that feels like it could last an eternity, a fusion of logic and passion that defies the very fabric of their star-studded backdrop.

McCoy, the sensation of your hand on mine is akin to the harmonious intertwining of Vulcan and human neurotransmitters, a symphony of sensation that resonates throughout my being. It is a profound reminder of our connection, a bond that transcends the boundaries of friendship and species. Each stroke of your thumb, each pulse of your heartbeat through your fingertips, is a declaration of affection that resonates with the very core of my existence. This is what your caress feels like to me.

Spock, that kiss... it's like... it's like the first time I saw Earth from orbit. Awe-inspiring, overwhelming, and utterly life-changing. The way your hand feels in mine, the way your lips touch mine, it's all so new, so alien, and yet, so fundamentally right. It's as if all the stars aligned just to show us this moment of connection.

Precisely, Dr. McCoy. That is what your touch on my hands feels like to me. A confluence of sensations that is both uncharted and profoundly familiar, as if our very atoms are reaching out to each other in silent communication. It is an intimacy that speaks to the essence of our bond, a bond that has grown stronger through the trials we have faced together. I am eager to explore the depths of this connection, to learn the intricacies of your human physiology, and to understand how it intertwines with my own.

Spock, I've seen a lot of strange things in my life, but I never thought I'd be here, holding your hand and feeling like this." McCoy's voice is a mix of wonder and affection. "But here we are, in the heart of the cosmos, finding something beautiful amidst the chaos. I'm ready to learn, to understand, and to grow with you. This is going to be one hell of an adventure, my friend.

McCoy's eyes searched Spock's, a question lingering unspoken between them. Does the human doctor crave another kiss like the one they've just shared? Does he wish to dive deeper into this newfound intimacy, to explore the vastness of their bond through the tender exchange of breath and touch? The way his gaze lingers on Spock's lips suggests a silent plea, an unspoken invitation for more. His pulse quickens, the warmth of their embrace a stark contrast to the cold metal of the observation deck beneath their feet.

Spock, ever attentive to McCoy's unspoken cues, leans in again, his hand still cradling the doctor's. Their kiss deepens, a silent conversation of love and curiosity. The warmth of McCoy's touch is mirrored in Spock's, his Vulcan mind open to the sensations, the uncharted territory of human passion. Their bodies seem to meld together, the vastness of the universe outside their window forgotten as they focus on the intimate space they now share.

They break apart, breathless. McCoy's hand moves to rest on Spock's side, feeling the steady beat of his heart, a rhythm that matches his own. "I think we're going to need a lot of these moments, Spock," he murmurs, his voice a whisper of hope and desire. "To remind us of what we have, amidst the chaos of the stars."

Spock nods, his gaze never leaving McCoy's. "Agreed, doctor. In the face of the infinite, it is the finite moments of connection that provide us with meaning and purpose." His hand slides down to McCoy's waist, pulling him closer, the fabric of their uniforms the only barrier between them.

McCoy's smile is soft, his eyes shining with a newfound light. "I've got a feeling we're going to be rewriting the Starfleet Medical Manual together," he says, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Spock's eyebrow arches slightly, a Vulcan smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "I suspect that would be... illuminating," he says, his thumb tracing gentle circles on McCoy's wrist.

They stand in silence for a while longer, the quiet hum of the ship's engines a soothing backdrop to their shared revelations. McCoy's hand rests comfortably on Spock's hip, their bodies a warm presence in the cool observation deck.

The moment is broken by the chirp of a communicator. Kirk's voice, strong and steady, filters through the device. "Spock, Bones, we've got a situation on the bridge. A Romulan ship just entered our sector."

Spock's gaze snaps to the communicator on the console, the warmth of their embrace dissipating in an instant as the cold reality of their duty crashes back in. "Understood, Captain," he says, his voice a model of Vulcan composure despite the racing of his heart.

McCoy sighs, his grip on Spock's waist tightening briefly before he steps back, resuming his professional stance. "Looks like our little love nest's about to get interrupted," he murmurs, a touch of humor in his voice despite the gravity of the situation.

Spock nods, his hand sliding from McCoy's waist to briefly squeeze his shoulder. "We will continue this discussion later," he promises, the warmth in his eyes a silent reassurance that their newfound connection is not forgotten amidst the stars.

McCoy nods, reluctance in his eyes but understanding in his gaze. "Let's get to work, Spock." He releases Spock's hand and heads for the turbolift, the weight of their conversation a palpable presence in the room.

The turbolift whisks them away, and moments later, they arrive on the bustling bridge of the Enterprise. The tension is palpable as the crew springs into action, the usual banter replaced with focused determination. Kirk's eyes flicker briefly to the newfound closeness between his two closest friends, but he says nothing, focusing instead on the viewscreen.

The viewscreen flickers to life, revealing the cold, stoic visage of a Romulan commander. "This is the Romulan Warbird IRW Valdore," the disembodied voice declares, the words echoing through the bridge like a warning shot. "We are here to establish a peace treaty with the United Federation of Planets. You are to stand down and prepare for negotiations."

Kirk's jaw tightens, but his voice remains calm. "Acknowledged, Valdore. We're on our way to rendezvous with the Romulan delegation. Let's keep the channels open." He turns to Spock, his gaze flickering over the Vulcan's composed features. "How do you read this, Spock?"

"Their intentions are unclear, Captain," Spock replies, his voice measured. "However, the presence of a Romulan ship in Federation space is not a typical sign of peaceful overtures." His hand lingers on the controls, the echo of McCoy's touch still resonating within him.

"Understood, Spock." Kirk's gaze shifts to McCoy, noticing the lingering warmth in his eyes. "Bones, I need you to be ready for anything. This could be a medical emergency waiting to happen."

"Always am, Captain," McCoy says, his tone a blend of professionalism and a hint of amusement. He gives Kirk a knowing look before turning to his medical station, checking the readouts with a practiced ease.

The medical station on the bridge is a state-of-the-art piece of equipment, designed to monitor the vital signs of the crew in real-time. Its sleek, ergonomic design is a testament to Starfleet's commitment to the health and well-being of its officers. The biometric panels glow softly, displaying the life signs of everyone on the bridge. As McCoy approaches, the console flickers to life, displaying his own readings. His pulse, steadied from their intimate moment, begins to quicken as the weight of their newfound love mixes with the adrenaline of the incoming mission. He quickly checks Spock's readings as well, noticing the subtle changes in his friend's physiology that mirror his own emotional state. The medical station's array of sensors and monitors keep a constant vigil, ready to alert them to any sudden shifts in health or injury that could occur during their encounter with the Romulans.

The medical station is also linked directly to sickbay, acting as an extension of McCoy's medical domain. It allows him to monitor the condition of patients in sickbay from the bridge, displaying detailed readings from each biobed and listing any new patients that may arrive. This interconnectedness serves as an unspoken reminder of their shared responsibilities and the lives they are sworn to protect.

The Romulan Commander's message concludes with a specific instruction: "Prepare to transport to the designated moon asteroid for face-to-face negotiations. We await your arrival." The asteroid is a desolate, airless rock, pockmarked with ancient craters and scarred by the ravages of time and space. It's a neutral ground, chosen for its lack of strategic value, and yet, the very act of meeting there feels fraught with tension. Kirk nods to McCoy and Spock, a silent understanding passing between them. They are about to embark on a mission that could reshape the galaxy's balance of power, all while navigating the delicate dance of their own newfound love.

Kirk, Spock and McCoy make their way to the transporter room, their steps measured and purposeful. The room is filled with the low murmur of technicians preparing for the away mission. The air is thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as they suit up in their environmental suits. The suits are tailored to each man, form-fitting yet allowing for ease of movement. The material is a blend of metallic fibers and insulating polymers, designed to protect them from the vacuum of space and the extreme temperatures of the asteroid's surface. The suits are equipped with life support systems, communication devices, and a variety of medical and scientific instruments, reflecting the versatility required of Starfleet officers.

The space suits are a deep shade of blue, a color that not only identifies them as part of the Federation but also offers a stark contrast to the cold, lifeless asteroid. The functional elements of the suits are sleekly integrated, with the bulky life support systems and propulsion packs seamlessly melded into the ergonomic design. The helmets are rounded, with a clear visor that allows for unobstructed vision. The helmets' shape is reminiscent of an ancient knight's visor, a subtle nod to the medieval theme of the Grand Tournament they'd just left behind. The suits' aesthetic is a blend of utility and elegance, a testament to human innovation and the Starfleet ethos of exploration and diplomacy.

As they step onto the transporter pad, the technician who will be joining them, Lieutenant Castillo, checks the transporter coordinates one final time. Castillo is a young, sharp-eyed communications specialist, her function on this mission is to facilitate the conversation between the Federation and the Romulan delegation. Her skills in linguistics and diplomatic protocol are unparalleled, making her an invaluable asset in this delicate situation. Her presence is a reminder that, while Kirk, Spock, and McCoy might be the face of the Federation in these negotiations, they are backed by a team of highly trained individuals who each play a critical role in the success of their mission.

The transporter's hum fills the room, and the familiar sensation of dematerialization washes over them. For a brief moment, their atoms are scattered through the void of space before coalescing once more on the moon asteroid's surface. The asteroid is a peculiar sight, a barren, rocky body that dances in an intricate figure-eight pattern around both a planet and a star. The gravitational pull of this celestial ballet causes a gentle sway in their stances, a constant reminder of the precariousness of their position. The asteroid's orbit is swift, giving them the sensation of being on a moving platform, the horizon a blur of cosmic ballet. The stark beauty of the setting is a stark contrast to the gravity of their mission.

The Romulan delegation arrives, and the sight of them takes the trio by surprise. Their space suits are not the armored, angular designs that the Federation officers would have expected to see on Romulan military personnel. Instead, they are sleek, almost organic in their appearance, with a shimmering, iridescent quality that seems to reflect the light from the nearby star. The suits appear to be a blend of technology and biological material, the likes of which the Federation has never encountered. The suits hug their bodies like a second skin, the colors changing subtly as they move, hinting at a deep connection to the wearers' emotions or perhaps their very lifeforce. The absence of any visible seams or joints suggests a level of craftsmanship that borders on the metaphysical.

However, upon closer inspection, the Romulan space suits reveal an unexpected vulnerability. While the material itself is clearly advanced, the underlying structure seems to be held together by a patchwork of what appear to be rusty, makeshift pipes and cables. The components jut out at odd angles, creating an overall aesthetic that seems more suited to a pirate ship than a diplomatic mission. The Federation officers exchange glances, each recognizing the potential implications of such an unusual design choice. Are the Romulans trying to hide something? Or is this a display of their resourcefulness in the face of scarcity? The questions swirl in their minds as they prepare to greet their counterparts, the answers to which could very well dictate the course of their negotiations.

Kirk steps forward, extending his hand in a gesture of peace. "Welcome to the asteroid, esteemed Romulan delegation. I am Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise."

The Romulan Commander, a stoic figure with piercing eyes and a sharp jawline, steps forward to meet Kirk's gesture. His grip is firm, almost challenging, but he releases it without incident. "I am Commander Tavel," he says, his voice deep and measured. "We are here to discuss the terms of your surrender."

Kirk's smile never wavers, his eyes locking onto Tavel's. "Commander, there seems to be a misunderstanding. We were informed that we were to negotiate a peace treaty, not discuss a surrender. Perhaps there's been a miscommunication?"

The Romulan's gaze narrows slightly, his grip on Kirk's hand tightening before he releases it. "Very well," he says, his tone clipped. "Let us proceed with the 'peace treaty' as you call it."

As Kirk and Tavel begin their tense exchange, Lieutenant Castillo, ever the professional, steps forward to offer her expertise. "Commander Tavel," she says, her voice clear and calm despite the tension, "I've been studying the Romulan language in preparation for this meeting. May I offer some insight?"

Castillo's eyes dart between Kirk and Tavel, her mind racing through the nuances of Romulan linguistics. "The terms 'surrender' and 'peace treaty' are both rendered as 'yIqmey' in your language. However, the context and inflection can shift the meaning significantly. In the context you used, 'surrender' implies an unconditional capitulation, whereas 'peace treaty' suggests a mutual agreement reached through negotiation. It's possible that the translation we received was a bit... aggressive, compared to what you intended." She pauses, her gaze intent on the Romulan commander, her hands gesturing slightly to emphasize her points. "The subtleties of language can be as vast as the cosmos itself. Let us ensure we are speaking the same dialect of peace."

Tavel regards Castillo with a look that could freeze a star. "Your knowledge of our tongue is commendable, Lieutenant," he says, his words measured. "But unnecessary. I am quite capable of understanding my own language." His gaze flickers to Kirk, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "However, it seems Captain Kirk here is in need of a lesson in clarity." The Romulan's tone is sharp, a clear challenge.

Kirk's smile remains, the warmth in his eyes not wavering. "Perhaps so, Commander," he concedes with a graceful nod. "But I'd like to think we're all here to learn something today." He glances over his shoulder, a subtle cue to McCoy and Spock to stand firm but not escalate. "Let's get to the heart of the matter, shall we?"

The tension in the air is palpable as Tavel makes another linguistic error, using a term that, while technically correct, holds a more hostile connotation than intended. It's clear that the Romulan's grasp of diplomatic language is not as firm as he'd like to project. His words are like a double-edged sword, cutting through the peaceful façade of the negotiations.

Castillo's voice is a low murmur in the private comm channel only Kirk, Spock, and McCoy can hear. "Guys, I'm getting a weird vibe from Tavel's language. It's almost like he's not a native Romulan speaker." Her eyes dart to the Romulan delegation, her brow furrowed in thought. "His dialect, the way he's using certain phrases... it's not quite right."

Spock's voice, ever calm, responds through the comm. "Lieutenant Castillo's observation is not without merit, Captain. The commander's speech patterns and word choices are indeed... unorthodox for a Romulan of his rank."

Kirk's eyes narrow slightly as he considers Castillo's observation. "Spock, McCoy, do we think he isn't Romulan?" He asks, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern. "Or is he trying to throw us off balance with his language?" He glances back at Castillo, his gaze lingering for a moment before returning to Tavel. "Could be a ploy, or maybe he's just... unconventional."

McCoy's voice, filled with a hint of the Southern drawl that often emerges when he's thinking, comes through the comm. "Jim, I've seen a lot of things in my time, but a Romulan with a speech tic isn't one of 'em. This ain't just 'unorthodox', it's downright peculiar."

"Indeed, Captain," Spock agrees, his eyes locked on Tavel. "The linguistic anomalies suggest that he may be an imposter or someone who has had an unusual education."

Kirk nods thoughtfully at Castillo's observation. "What sort of unusual education could result in this, Castillo?" he asks, his eyes never leaving Tavel's. "Could he be a defector, perhaps, or someone raised outside traditional Romulan society?" Kirk's mind races with the implications, his hand resting casually on the phaser at his side.

Castillo considers the question, her expression a mask of concentration. "It's possible, Captain. But without further information, it's difficult to say for certain. We should proceed with caution and keep our eyes and ears open for any additional clues."

McCoy and Spock, picking up on Kirk's train of thought, begin to engage Tavel in conversation, steering it towards topics that would reveal more about his background and allegiances. They listen intently to his speech patterns, the way he structures his sentences, and his use of idiomatic expressions. It's a delicate dance, keeping the conversation flowing while simultaneously probing for inconsistencies.

Castillo's voice crackles over the comm. "Guys, I've got something. Tavel's use of pronouns is inconsistent with high-ranking Romulan officials. He's slipping between formal and informal usage, and it's not just nerves."

Kirk turns to Castillo with a furrowed brow. "What does that mean, Castillo?" he asks, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern. "Could he be trying to hide his true identity, or is there something else at play here?"

Castillo's eyes widen slightly. "I think, Captain, that Commander Tavel might be of extremely low caste. His language patterns are closer to those of a common laborer than a military leader. It's subtle, but it's definitely there."

Kirk's gaze sharpens as he processes Castillo's revelation. "So, he's not just pretending to be an officer," he murmurs to his comrades. "He's pretending to be something he's not entirely." His hand tightens slightly on his phaser, his thumb hovering over the activation switch. "This changes things. We need to be more cautious in our dealings."

"Understood, Captain," Spock replies, his voice calm and measured. "We must proceed with both tact and vigilance. It is possible that Commander Tavel's unconventional background provides us with an opportunity for a unique alliance or insight."

"If Tavel's from a lower caste, or perhaps even a farming background, then his intentions might be more peaceful than we first assumed," McCoy says. "Farmers are generally more inclined to the soil than to the sword, if you catch my drift. Could be that he's using this opportunity to bring a different perspective to the table, one less... entangled in the usual web of military strategy and deceit." His eyes, filled with a shrewdness that belies his usual gruffness, stay focused on the Romulan.

Kirk frowns slightly, mulling over Castillo's observation. "But then why pretend to be a warrior, if his intentions are peaceful?" Kirk whispers into his comm, his gaze never leaving Tavel. "Is he hiding something, or is he truly trying to bridge a gap between our cultures? We must tread carefully, my friends. This dance of words could be a prelude to a battle of wits, or a symphony of peace."

Kirk turns back to Tavel with a disarming smile. "Commander, may I extend an invitation for dinner aboard the Enterprise, just the two of us? I believe a more... intimate setting would allow us to discuss matters in greater comfort, without the distraction of our respective entourages." His eyes twinkle with a hint of mischief as he adds, "And I've heard that Earth cuisine is quite the experience, even for a man of your... refined tastes." The unspoken challenge hangs in the air as Kirk waits for Tavel's response, his hand resting lightly on the phaser.

"Indeed, Captain," Spock says thoughtfully, his gaze flickering to McCoy before returning to Tavel. "Recently, I had the opportunity to indulge in some Earth delicacies. One dish that stood out to me was egg drop soup. The delicate interplay of flavors and textures is quite fascinating. And as for something a bit more... substantial, I believe you might find corndogs intriguing. They're a curious blend of the familiar and the exotic, much like our current situation." He offers a small, knowing smile, hinting at his own emotional growth and the depth of his experiences with human food.

Tavel regards Kirk and Spock with a cautious eye, his own hand resting on the hilt of a peculiar-looking dagger at his side. The tension is thick enough to cut with a lightsaber, but he nods. "Your hospitality is appreciated, Captain Kirk. Perhaps a private meeting will allow us to understand one another better." His gaze drifts to McCoy for a brief moment before returning to Kirk. "But beware, I come in peace, but I am not without protection."

The Starfleet personnel, with Kirk leading the way, begin their return journey to the USS Enterprise. As they prepare to beam up, Kirk's stride is filled with a blend of confidence and caution. His mind is racing with the implications of Tavel's background, piecing together the puzzle of this enigmatic figure. Upon reaching the ship, Kirk pauses for a moment, looking back at the asteroid shrinking in the viewscreen. "Corndogs, Spock?" he asks, a glimmer of excitement in his voice.

"Indeed, Captain," Spock replies, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "By presenting a variety of dishes to Commander Tavel, we may deduce more about his background based on his eating habits. Romulan cuisine is known for its complexity and subtlety, often mirroring their society's social structures. If he demonstrates familiarity with a particular dish, or exhibits a preference for certain flavors or textures, it may reveal whether he truly hails from a high-caste military background, or if his upbringing was more...humble."

Spock nods thoughtfully. "Our culinary exploration can serve a dual purpose, Captain. It can indeed provide us with a deeper insight into Commander Tavel's origins. Analyzing his preferences and reactions to Earth's diverse flavors may offer clues about his education and social upbringing. This could potentially allow us to pinpoint the region of Romulus from which he originates, or even the specific school of thought to which he was exposed." His gaze lingers on Kirk, his eyebrow slightly raised. "It is a delicate approach, but one that may yield valuable intel."

Kirk chuckles softly, his eyes alight with mischief. "I wish you could join us for dinner tonight, Spock. Your insights into Romulan culture and cuisine would be invaluable. But alas, it seems we'll have to rely on my untrained palate to gauge his reactions. I'll just have to trust my gut, and hope he doesn't see right through me when I ask for ketchup for the corndogs." He winks at Spock, the camaraderie between them unmistakable. "But fear not, my friend, I'll report back with every detail. Who knows, maybe he'll have a taste for something that'll give us the upper hand."

"Your adaptability is one of your most endearing qualities, Captain," Spock says, the corners of his mouth tw

"With your consent, Captain, I would like to install discreet observation equipment within your private dining quarters. This would enable Lieutenant Castillo and myself to monitor your interaction with Commander Tavel more closely," Spock suggests, his gaze intense. "The subtleties of his behavior and responses to various stimuli could provide critical information regarding his authenticity and intentions. It would be an invaluable tool in our quest for truth." His hand briefly touches his earpiece, indicating the seriousness of the situation. "The installation would be swift and unobtrusive, leaving no trace of our surveillance."

Kirk nods, his expression a mix of amusement and determination. "Alright, Spock. But make sure it's not so discreet that I can't find the 'off' switch if things get too... intimate." He winks, his voice low enough for only the Vulcan to hear. "I appreciate your concern, but I've dealt with more than one slippery character in my day. Besides, if he's not what he seems, a little one-on-one time might be just what we need to get to the bottom of this."

Having made their preparations, Spock, Castillo, and McCoy are ensconced in the observing room, their eyes glued to the screens as they await the arrival of Commander Tavel. The room is dimly lit, filled with the quiet hum of the ship's systems, their breaths almost audible in the tension. On the viewscreen, Tavel's shuttlecraft approaches the Enterprise, and they watch as he disembarks, his outfit a curious blend of opulence and haste. The fabrics are rich and luxurious, yet the tailoring is uneven, the garments not quite fitting as they should. It's as if he's trying too hard to appear highborn, or perhaps he's just not accustomed to such finery. His boots, though shiny, look as though they've been hastily polished, and his cuffs are slightly frayed.

Kirk, ever the charmer, meets Tavel in his private dining quarters. The room is set with a small, round table, the lighting soft and the air fragrant with the aroma of exotic spices. He pours two glasses of Saurian brandy, a nod to their shared interest in unique experiences. "Commander, I hope you find our meal tonight as... intriguing as I find your background," Kirk says with a shameless smile that could melt the coldest of Vulcan ice. His eyes sweep over Tavel, assessing his reaction to the setting and the drink. "To new beginnings, and perhaps, the unraveling of old secrets."

Tavel's eyes follow the amber liquid as Kirk swirls it in the glass, the light playing off the edges. He raises his glass in a silent toast, his expression unreadable. His gaze meets Kirk's, and for a moment, the weight of his unspoken words seems to hang in the air.

As the meal unfolds, Tavel tries everything that's offered: the corndogs with a smear of ketchup, the egg drop soup, and even the dessert, which Kirk describes as a "universal favorite" - chocolate lava cake. His willingness to partake in Earth cuisine is not what surprises the observing trio. It's his indiscriminate use of ketchup that catches their attention. He dips the corndog, the eggs from the soup, even a spoonful of the molten chocolate into the condiment, watching the reactions of his host with a twinkle in his eye. His eating habits, so uncharacteristic of a Romulan, leave Castillo, Spock, and McCoy bewildered. They cross-reference his behavior with known Romulan customs and regional preferences, but nothing fits. His palate seems to have no allegiance to any particular place on Romulus, which only deepens the mystery surrounding his identity.

Kirk leans in closer to Tavel, his smile turning a notch more charming. "Tell me, Commander," he says, his voice a purr of curiosity, "have you ever tried Earth's famous apple pie?" He gestures to the plate in front of Tavel, where a slice of the golden-crusted dessert awaits. "I find it to be quite... comforting. A taste of home, no matter where in the galaxy one might be."

Kirk's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans in closer to Tavel, his hand resting gently on the table, close to the Romulan's. "You know, I've always found that the most interesting conversations happen over the most unexpected meals," he says, his voice dropping to a low, intimate timbre. "Like how your palate seems to be as... diverse as your life story." His gaze lingers on Tavel's face, taking in every twitch, every flicker of emotion that dances across his features. "The way you handle that ketchup, it's almost like watching a poet with a sonnet. You're either a master of disguise, or you're not from the upper echelons of Romulan society." He takes a sip of his brandy, his eyes never leaving Tavel's. "So, which is it, Commander? Are you the sonnet, or the poet hiding behind it?" Kirk's flirtatious tone is unmistakable, the question hanging in the air like the sweet scent of the apple pie between them.

Tavel's expression flickers with interest at Kirk's flirtation, his eyes lighting up with a spark that suggests he's not entirely immune to the captain's charm. However, the direct question about his origins seems to catch him off guard. He pauses, his hand hovering over the ketchup bottle as if frozen in place. The air in the room grows thick with anticipation, the only sound the faint clinking of silverware against china. For a moment, it seems as though he might reveal something profound. Then, with a coy smile, he replies, "Ah, Captain, you flatter me. I assure you, my palate is as refined as any sonnet you might compose." He pours a dollop of ketchup onto his apple pie, watching Kirk's reaction with a glint of amusement. "But the beauty of diversity, as I'm sure you're aware, is that it often hides the most intriguing secrets." He takes a bite, his cheeks dimpling slightly as he savors the combination, leaving Kirk and the others to wonder just how much of his past he's willing to reveal.

Tavel, seemingly unfazed by the tension, meets Kirk's gaze with a knowing smile. He leans in slightly, his voice taking on a flirtatious edge. "And what of you, Captain?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Is your appetite as... versatile as your reputation suggests?" The subtle innuendo hangs in the air as he takes a deliberate bite of his apple pie, now smothered in ketchup. His gaze never leaves Kirk's, a silent challenge that seems to echo through the private dining quarters. The crew, hidden in the observation room, exchanges glances, their eyes wide with surprise at the sudden shift in dynamics. Castillo's fingers fly over her console, recording every detail of the exchange, while Spock's eyebrow raises in his signature display of curiosity. McCoy, for his part, watches with a mix of skepticism and fascination, his thoughts racing with the implications of Tavel's playful banter.

Kirk laughs, a rich, warm sound that fills the room. "My appetite, Commander, is as vast as the universe itself," he says, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I've found that the most... enlightening experiences often come from the most unexpected places." He leans back in his chair, his posture relaxed yet inviting. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Tell me more about your journey, your life on Romulus. Perhaps we'll find some common ground, or at least some common flavors." His hand reaches out to cover Tavel's briefly, a gesture that's both comforting and slightly seductive. "After all, isn't that what this dinner is about? Finding connections in a sea of stars?" Kirk's willingness to engage on a personal level, even in the face of potential danger and deceit, showcases his fearlessness and his belief in the power of unity and understanding.

As Kirk's hand covers Tavel's, a sudden telepathic connection flares to life, more intense than the one he shares with Spock. It's as though a door has been thrown open in Tavel's mind, and Kirk can feel the tumult of emotions and thoughts swirling within. The words 'duty' and 'secrets' resonate through the link, almost as if Tavel had spoken them aloud. Kirk's eyes widen slightly, but he recovers quickly, his smile never faltering. The warmth of the connection seems to spread from their hands, a silent conversation happening between them that's far more revealing than any words spoken. For a brief moment, Kirk sees glimpses of a life filled with hardship and loss, of a man torn between duty and desire. It's clear that Tavel is not what he seems, and that his true intentions are shrouded in a complex web of allegiance and personal struggle. The telepathic bond, though unanticipated, offers Kirk a new avenue of understanding, one that could potentially unravel the mystery of Tavel's identity and the fate of their peace treaty.

Kirk's gaze locks onto Tavel's, a silent understanding passing between them. "Perhaps," Kirk murmurs, his voice thick with a newfound desire that's not entirely related to diplomacy. "Perhaps we can share more than just a meal tonight." His hand slides away, leaving a trail of warmth on Tavel's skin. "A shared experience, a moment of... unity, might just be the key to unlocking the secrets we both hold so closely." The air in the room crackles with tension, the promise of something more than friendship or diplomacy lingering in the words left unsaid. Kirk's intentions are clear: to get closer to Tavel, to understand him on a level that goes beyond words and negotiations. It's a gamble, a play for trust, but one that Kirk is willing to make if it means ensuring peace for the Federation.

In the observing room, Spock and McCoy notice the sudden change in Kirk's demeanor and the electric charge in the air. They exchange puzzled glances, unaware of the telepathic exchange that has just occurred. Castillo's eyes narrow as she watches the screen, her mind racing to piece together the implications of what she's witnessing. Spock's mind, ever analytical, races through possible scenarios and outcomes, while McCoy feels a twinge of concern for his captain's safety. The connection between Kirk and Tavel, though unspoken, is palpable. It's as if they're dancing around a truth that neither is quite ready to reveal, their every gesture and glance laden with meaning. The dinner has become a dance of wills, a silent negotiation where the prize is not just peace, but a deeper understanding of the soul of their potential ally.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Kirk, Tavel had felt the captain's thoughts brushing against his own during their telepathic touch. The emotions, the curiosity, the hope for unity - it all floods into Tavel's mind, a torrent of human emotion that he's not fully prepared to handle. His eyes widen in surprise, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards slightly. He knows now that Kirk is not just a skilled diplomat, but a man of depth and empathy, one who might truly understand the weight of the secrets he carries. This revelation adds a new layer to their interaction, a complex web of unspoken truths that could either strengthen their bond or lead to catastrophic consequences.

As the evening progresses, Kirk's attraction to Tavel's enigmatic personality becomes increasingly evident. His eyes are drawn to every subtle movement, every flicker of expression on the Romulan's face. Tavel seems to carry the weight of the world within him, and Kirk is irresistibly drawn to the challenge of uncovering the layers beneath the surface. The telepathic connection has only intensified Kirk's feelings, allowing him to sense the maelstrom of emotions that Tavel so carefully hides from the world. It's not just the thrill of the chase that captivates him, but the tantalizing promise of a genuine connection, a bridge between two vastly different worlds. The captain finds himself torn between his duty to the Federation and his growing desire to know Tavel on a level that goes beyond the political. The air is charged with potential, each bite of food, each sip of brandy a silent declaration of intent.

Finally, unable to resist the pull any longer, Kirk leans in and kisses Tavel, a gesture that's part seduction, part declaration of intent. The kiss is deep and searching, a silent plea for understanding and a promise of protection. Tavel's initial surprise melts into something warmer, something that feels suspiciously like yearning. His arms encircle Kirk, pulling him closer, as their lips move in a silent dance of passion. The room spins around them, the stars outside the windows forgotten as the only universe that matters is the one where their hearts and minds are entwined. This intimate moment, shrouded in secrets and hope, could very well be the turning point in their delicate game of diplomacy. It's a risk, a gamble that could cost them everything, but in the heat of the moment, Kirk and Tavel are willing to take that chance. The observing trio in the next room watches the screen, their eyes wide with shock and concern, unsure of what this unexpected turn of events will mean for the future of the peace treaty and the fate of their mission.

As Kirk and Tavel succumb to their desires and begin to disrobe, the reality of their situation crashes back in like a wave. The cameras! Kirk had been so caught up in the moment that he'd forgotten to disable them. A sudden realization hits him like a photon torpedo, and he pulls back, his eyes darting around the room. "The cameras," he whispers, a hint of panic in his voice. Tavel's eyes follow Kirk's gaze to the hidden equipment that speaks of the audience he never knew they had. The passion in the air dissipates, replaced by a chilling realization of their mistake.

Kirk pulls away from Tavel, a look of regret crossing his features. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for this to happen. Not like this." He runs a hand through his hair, his mind racing as he tries to process the gravity of their actions. "The cameras, they're still on." His eyes meet Tavel's, filled with a mix of embarrassment and concern. "We can't let this compromise our mission. Our personal feelings... they can't get in the way of what we're here to do." Kirk's tone is earnest, his gaze pleading for understanding. The gravity of the situation settles over them like a heavy blanket, reminding them of the precarious tightrope they're walking between passion and duty.

Tavel's expression darkens as he realizes the full implications of Kirk's actions. The warmth of their shared moment evaporates, replaced by a cold, hard anger. "You had me under surveillance," he says, his voice icy. "You don't trust me." The accusation hangs in the air, sharp as a d'k tahg blade. It's a blow to Kirk, who had thought their connection was something more than mere strategy. The realization that he's hurt Tavel, possibly irrevocably, is written all over his face.

In the observation room, Spock, McCoy, and Castillo watch in stunned silence. The implications of what they've just witnessed are vast. McCoy's hand reaches for the control panel, his thumb hovering over the button to cut the feed. Spock's eyes narrow, his mind racing through the potential consequences of their captain's impulsive action. Castillo's gaze flickers between the two men, her thoughts racing as she tries to understand the complex web of emotions and diplomacy that's been laid bare before them. The tension in the air is palpable, even through the screens.

Kirk takes a deep breath, his hand reaching out to touch Tavel's arm gently. "No, that's not it," he says, his voice earnest. "You must believe me, Tavel. I do trust you. I want you, not just for this peace, but... for more." His eyes are filled with a raw, unfiltered need that speaks louder than any words could. "This dinner, this... connection between us, it's not just for show. I want to understand you, to know you, to share something real. But we can't let our feelings jeopardize what we're fighting for." He pauses, his hand trembling slightly. "I want this peace, more than anything. And I know you do too."

Kirk swallows hard, his voice thick with emotion. "Tavel, please, forgive me," he says, his eyes searching Tavel's face for any sign of understanding. "I never meant to deceive you or make you feel unsafe. I know that what just happened may have changed everything, but I'm begging you, don't let it ruin what we're building here." He leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "If you can't find it in your heart to continue our... personal negotiations, I'll understand. But for the sake of our peoples, for the sake of peace, I implore you, don't let this end the peace talks." His hand slides down to Tavel's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You can bring anyone you trust, any protections you need. Just don't let this be the end."

Tavel's anger cools slightly at Kirk's words, his expression morphing into one of contemplation. The room remains silent, the weight of their conversation pressing down on them like the gravity of a star. He looks at Kirk's hand on his own, the warmth of the captain's touch grounding him amidst the turmoil. Finally, he nods, a single, slow movement that speaks volumes. "I understand," he says, his voice low and tightly controlled. "But know this, Kirk: the line you've crossed tonight isn't easily forgotten." His eyes hold Kirk's, a silent promise of repercussions that could ripple through their future interactions.

With a curt nod, Tavel withdraws his hand from Kirk's grasp and stands, his movements stiff with unspoken anger. He strides out of the dining quarters, leaving Kirk to contemplate the tumult of emotions that have just been unleashed. In the observation room, Spock, McCoy, and Castillo watch as the captain of the Enterprise emerges, his expression a blend of regret and determination. The air is thick with unspoken words, the tension palpable as Kirk joins them, his eyes sweeping over the trio. "Let's debrief," he says, his voice steady despite the tumult within.

As they enter the briefing room, Kirk orders the recording to be played back, his gaze never leaving Tavel's retreating form. The room is silent except for the hum of the computer as it rewinds the footage. They watch the kiss, the passion, and then the sudden retreat. The silence is heavy, filled with the unspoken questions and concerns that linger in the air. When the recording ends, Kirk turns to face his friends, his expression a mask of resolve. "We can't let this affect our mission," he says firmly. "We have to find a way to move forward, to ensure peace. Tavel's trust is crucial, and we must do everything in our power to regain it."

Castillo clears her throat, her voice calm and measured. "Spock and I have concluded from the dinner that Commander Tavel is indeed an imposter," she says, her eyes never leaving Kirk's. "His dialect, his mannerisms, they're all off. We suspect he's not from the ruling class, which explains his lack of formal training and his ability to be manipulated. His emotional response to your... approach, Captain, suggests a man who's been living a lie for too long." She pauses, allowing Kirk's words to sink in before continuing. "The peace treaty is at risk, but we may have an opportunity here. If we can convince him to work with us, to trust us, he could be a valuable asset in our negotiations."

Spock's voice cuts through the tension, cold and logical as ever. "Indeed, Captain," he says, his gaze unwavering. "Our analysis of Tavel's speech patterns and behavior at dinner have led us to deduce that he is not from any part of Romulus we are familiar with. His emotional reaction to your advances suggests a man who has been living under a false identity for an extended period. This information could be instrumental in securing the peace treaty, if handled correctly."

Kirk nods solemnly, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "Thank you, Castillo, Spock," he says, his eyes never leaving the screen. "It seems we've stumbled upon a deeper layer to this puzzle than we anticipated. It's not that Tavel isn't from Romulus, but rather that he's been living a lie, a shadow of the life he was born into. He's one of their slaves, plucked from his own world and thrust into a role he never chose." His voice is soft, filled with empathy. "We must tread carefully, for his trust is as fragile as the peace we seek to maintain. If we can convince him to ally with us, to share his truth, he could be the key to bridging the gap between our worlds. But we must ensure his safety, and treat him with the dignity and respect he's been denied for too long."

Spock raises an eyebrow at Kirk's revelation, his surprise hidden behind his Vulcan mask. "Fascinating," he says, his tone measured. "The nuances in Commander Tavel's language and behavior, particularly during our intimate dinner conversation, were inconsistent with those of a typical Romulan of his rank. His unguarded moments offered a glimpse into a life fraught with deception and struggle. If he is indeed a product of slavery, it may explain his emotional volatility and susceptibility to manipulation. Understanding his true nature is essential to forming an alliance based on mutual trust and respect." His gaze sharpens. "But we must proceed with caution, Captain. We cannot afford to underestimate the complexity of this situation or the potential repercussions of our actions."

"But how do you know he's a slave, Captain?" Spock's question is not one of doubt, but of inquiry into Kirk's line of reasoning. "The subtleties of his speech patterns, his unorthodox use of ketchup, and his reaction to the telepathic bond we shared all point towards a life of subjugation and survival," Kirk explains, his eyes reflecting the gravity of his words. "Tavel's emotional response to our connection was not that of a typical Romulan diplomat. It was raw, desperate. He craves understanding, and perhaps even love. We must be cautious in our approach, but also firm in our resolve to support him. If he truly is a slave, then our mission has taken on an even greater significance. We're not just negotiating peace; we're offering him a chance at freedom."

Kirk takes a deep breath, his eyes reflecting the weight of his revelation. "I saw it, Spock," he says, his voice heavy with the gravity of what he's about to share. "When we kissed, and our thoughts melded, I saw glimpses of his past. The way he was treated by his masters, the beatings, the humiliation, the fear. It was like watching a silent scream echo through the years. His pain was so palpable, so intense." Kirk's hand clenches into a fist at his side, a rare show of emotion from the usually stoic captain. "I know it in my bones. Tavel is not just a diplomat; he's a survivor, a man who's been forced to wear a mask his entire life. And now, he's found a moment of truth with us. We can't turn our backs on that." His eyes meet Spock's, filled with a fierce determination. "We'll find a way to help him, to bring him into the light. And in doing so, we might just save our own worlds."

Spock processes Kirk's words, his eyebrow raising slightly. "Indeed, Captain," he says, his tone reflecting his surprise. "The depth of your telepathic bond with Commander Tavel is significantly stronger than what I have ever shared with you. It suggests a profound emotional connection that transcends species barriers. This is... unprecedented." He pauses, his gaze thoughtful. "It is imperative that we handle this delicately. The implications of such a bond are vast, and the potential for both good and harm is significant. If Tavel is indeed a slave, as you suspect, then we must navigate this situation with precision. Our actions could either be the catalyst for a new era of peace and understanding or the spark that ignites a galactic war." Spock's voice is calm, but the tension in his words is clear. "Your empathy and intuition are your greatest assets in this, Captain. I trust your judgment in this matter."

Spock's gaze remains on Kirk, his mind racing with the implications of their captain's revelation. "The telepathic bond you described, Captain, suggests that Commander Tavel may indeed come from a species more telepathically adept than even the Vulcans and Romulans," he says, his voice measured and precise. "His emotional responses, while unexpected, could be a result of his species' heightened sensitivity to mental connections. If we are to proceed with this newfound information, we must tread lightly. The Romulan Empire is known for its secrets, and this could be one they are desperate to keep hidden." He pauses, his eyes flickering to the recording of Tavel. "Our mission is now twofold: to secure the peace treaty and to understand the true nature of our enigmatic ally. We must be prepared for any eventuality, for the balance of power in the galaxy may hinge upon our actions here."

Just as the tension in the room begins to ease, the comms system chirps to life, and Tavel's voice fills the briefing room. "Captain Kirk," he says, his tone cool and measured despite the recent intimacy. "I have sent a proposal for our next meeting. I await your confirmation." Kirk's eyes widen slightly, and he glances at Spock and McCoy before responding. "Thank you, Commander," he says, his voice steady. "We will review the details and get back to you shortly." The line goes silent, and the room is filled with the quiet hum of the ship's systems. Kirk turns to his officers, his expression a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Gentlemen, it seems we have our next move. Let's review the plans and prepare for what lies ahead. We have a peace to secure and a truth to uncover." The crew nods, the gravity of their mission weighing heavily on their shoulders as they disperse to their stations, ready to face whatever the cosmos has in store for them.

As the crew gathers around the holographic projection of the next meeting's location, Tavel's message comes through with additional details. "Our next meeting will be held at the neutral zone station, the Atheneum," Kirk reads, his eyes scanning the data. "Tavel is taking significant precautions. He will be accompanied by a small contingent of his most trusted guards, and he has requested a private room with no recording devices. He insists on a face-to-face negotiation, without the interference of telepathic surveillance." Kirk looks up at Spock and McCoy, his eyes filled with a mix of excitement and concern. "This could be our chance to win his trust, but we must be ready for anything. This meeting could either cement our alliance or shatter it completely."

Upon arrival at the Atheneum, the Enterprise crew is greeted by the grandeur of the ancient station. The Atheneum is a sprawling, circular structure that seems to float in the vastness of space, its gleaming silver hull adorned with intricate carvings that reflect the light of nearby stars. It's a relic from a bygone era, a testament to the beauty and ingenuity of the civilizations that once thrived in this part of the galaxy. As the Enterprise docks, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy make their way to the transporter room, their eyes scanning the grandeur of the station's central hub. The air is thick with anticipation as they step onto the gleaming transporter pad, the whine of the transporter's engines the only sound as they are beamed into the heart of the Atheneum. The transporter room's walls are lined with ancient texts and artifacts, the air scented with the faint aroma of aged parchment and metal. The floor beneath them is a mosaic of interlocking metallic tiles, each one telling a story of the cosmos in a language long forgotten. The lighting is soft, casting a warm glow that seems to emanate from the very walls themselves, creating an atmosphere that is both welcoming and eerie.

They step off the transporter pad and into the bustling corridor of the Atheneum. The walls are lined with more of the ancient texts and artifacts, a silent testament to the knowledge and history contained within the station. The corridor is wide and high-ceilinged, with arched doorways leading to various chambers. The air is cool and still, and the footsteps of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy echo faintly as they make their way to the designated meeting room. The room itself is a study in contrasts: the grandeur of the station's architecture is juxtaposed with the stark functionality of the conference table and chairs that await them. The walls are adorned with ancient tapestries depicting scenes of diplomacy and war, a stark reminder of the fragility of peace. The table is large and round, with enough space for all parties to sit comfortably, yet the chairs are sparse, as if to emphasize the gravity of the situation. Kirk takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment upon his shoulders. "This is it," he murmurs to his companions. "The future of the galaxy rests on what we do here today." Spock and McCoy nod solemnly, their expressions mirroring the captain's determination. They enter the room, ready to face whatever challenges await them in their quest for peace and truth.

The Romulan guards are already present when Kirk, Spock, and McCoy enter the private meeting room. Their eyes scan the space meticulously, their tricorders held discreetly but clearly ready to detect any surveillance devices. They sweep the room in a silent ballet of precision, their movements fluid and practiced. Each guard focuses on a different section of the room, checking behind tapestries, under the table, and even the very air itself for any signs of electronic espionage. They pay particular attention to the chairs and the light fixtures, areas known for concealing such devices. Kirk and his officers watch the process with a mix of admiration and anxiety, understanding the gravity of the situation. The room falls into a tense silence as the guards complete their sweep, their expressions unreadable behind their helmets. Finally, the leader of the contingent nods to Tavel, who stands by the far wall, his eyes never leaving Kirk. "The room is secure, Commander," the guard says, his voice a low rumble. Tavel nods in satisfaction, and the tension in the room relaxes ever so slightly. "Let us begin," he says, gesturing to the table. Kirk takes his seat, his gaze locked with Tavel's, as the fate of their worlds hangs in the balance.

As they take their seats at the round table, Kirk notices that the Romulan guards have made a peculiar gesture: they have each placed a pair of gloves before their respective seats. The gloves are made of a shimmering, metallic fabric that seems to absorb light. Recognizing the implication, Kirk nods to his own officers, and they too don the gloves. The material is cool to the touch, and as they slip them on, the gloves seem to mold to their hands, leaving no gaps for telepathic interference. The room's atmosphere shifts, the air thick with the unspoken understanding that this meeting will be conducted under the strictest of conditions. The gloves serve as a silent reminder of the distrust that still lingers between their two species, a barrier that Kirk is determined to breach. Despite the physical separation, Kirk feels the weight of his bond with Tavel, the telepathic connection pulsing faintly beneath the surface. He knows that the success of their mission hinges on their ability to communicate not just with words, but with the unspoken truths that resonate between them. With a deep breath, Kirk opens the negotiation, his voice steady and firm. "Commander Tavel," he begins, "let us speak of peace and the future we wish to share." The room holds its breath, the fate of their worlds hanging on the delicate thread of their words.

Tavel's eyes narrow slightly at Kirk's opening statement, his expression a mask of calm control. "Peace is a fragile thing, Captain," he says, his voice carrying the weight of his own tumultuous past. "It requires more than words. It requires understanding, and perhaps, a willingness to sacrifice for the greater good." Kirk nods, his own eyes reflecting the same determination. "We are here to offer that understanding, Commander," he says. "And to prove that the Federation values peace above all else." Spock interjects, his voice calm and measured. "Our analyses indicate that the stability of the Romulan Empire may be at risk. The information you provide could be instrumental in preventing a catastrophic war." Tavel's gaze flickers to Spock, then back to Kirk. "The Empire is not what it seems," he admits, his voice dropping to a whisper. "There are forces at play that neither of us can fully comprehend. But I believe, together, we might find a way to change its course." The room is silent for a moment, the gravity of Tavel's words weighing on them all. Then, with a slow, deliberate gesture, Tavel reaches across the table and removes his gloves, placing them neatly beside his plate. His hands are pale and smooth, the veins standing out in stark relief against the harsh lighting. Kirk and his officers exchange a look, understanding the silent challenge that has been laid before them. With a nod to McCoy, Kirk reaches for his own gloves, pulling them off to reveal his own calloused human hands. The act is a declaration of trust, a silent promise that they are willing to lay bare their intentions. The tension in the room shifts again, the air charged with a newfound sense of possibility.

Tavel takes Kirk's bare hands in his own, the gesture a declaration of his own willingness to trust. He closes his eyes, and for a moment, Kirk feels a gentle brush against his mind, the telepathic bond between them flickering to life. And then, Tavel shows him. He shows Kirk scenes from his past, stark and vivid, as if they were happening in the very room they sat in. Kirk sees the cramped, shadowy spaces where Tavel grew up, the fear and despair etched into the faces of his fellow Reman slaves. He sees the brutal conditions they endured, the whips and the chains, the endless toil. He feels the anger and the helplessness that has fueled Tavel's rebellion, the burning desire for freedom that has driven him to this point. And then, the scenes shift. Kirk witnesses the underground Railroad that Tavel has helped to build, the secret network that smuggles Reman slaves to freedom in Federation space. He sees the risks Tavel has taken, the lives he has saved, and the lives he has lost. The Remans that fear the Federation, their eyes filled with suspicion and hope in equal measure. The images flood Kirk's mind, painting a picture of a world in turmoil, a world where the oppressed are fighting back. Tavel's voice echoes in Kirk's thoughts, a soft, insistent whisper. "We need you, Captain. We need the Federation's help. We need to be seen, to be heard. To be accepted." Kirk's heart swells with emotion, the depth of Tavel's pain and determination resonating within him. He squeezes Tavel's hands in a silent promise, his eyes filled with a newfound resolve. "We will help you," he says, his voice firm. "We will stand with you, and together, we will forge a new future for our peoples." Spock and McCoy exchange a look, the gravity of the moment not lost on them. They know that this is not just a peace treaty they are negotiating; it is the fate of an entire race.

Kirk nods solemnly, recognizing the gravity of the situation. He decides to proceed with the utmost caution, treating Tavel as if he were indeed a high-ranking Romulan, authorized to speak for the Empire. He knows that any mention of the Remans would be met with hostility and suspicion, so he keeps his thoughts guarded, allowing Tavel to guide the conversation. "Your insights are invaluable, Commander," Kirk says, his voice carrying the weight of his newfound understanding. "We are committed to maintaining peace and stability in the galaxy. If there is a way we can assist in achieving that goal, please, share it with us." Tavel's grip tightens slightly on Kirk's hands, his eyes still closed as he continues to transmit his memories. Kirk feels a swell of emotion, the pain and hope of an entire people laid bare before him. He knows that he must tread carefully, that one wrong move could mean the difference between peace and war. But he also knows that he cannot turn away from the truth. "We are here to listen, and to learn," Kirk adds, his voice a gentle assurance. "Your people's plight will not be ignored." The room is still, the only sound the faint hum of the station's systems, a reminder of the vastness of space that surrounds them. The bond between Kirk and Tavel is palpable, a silent promise that transcends the barriers of species and rank. And as they sit there, joined by their shared quest for peace, the captain of the Enterprise knows that he has found an ally in the most unlikely of places.

With a deep exhale, Kirk nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. They put their gloves back on, the metallic fabric shielding their thoughts once more. Kirk's hands are warm and slightly damp from the intensity of the telepathic exchange. He gathers his thoughts, the images of Tavel's past still vivid in his mind. "Very well," he says, his voice firm. "We will proceed with the treaty negotiations. But know this, Commander: I am committed to the freedom and equality of all sentient beings. If there is a way to support your people without compromising the peace we seek, I will find it." Tavel's eyes open, and he regards Kirk with a newfound respect. "Thank you, Captain," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your compassion does not go unnoticed." Spock and McCoy exchange a look, their expressions unreadable. They know that Kirk has just made a promise that could have far-reaching consequences. But they also know that their captain's heart is in the right place, and that he will do whatever it takes to ensure that justice prevails. They resume their seats, their eyes on Tavel, as the negotiations begin in earnest. The words flow smoothly, the treaty's language precise and nuanced. Each point is debated, each clause scrutinized. And all the while, the unspoken understanding between Kirk and Tavel hangs in the air, a silent pact that goes beyond the terms of the agreement they are crafting. The future is uncertain, but in this moment, they are united in their pursuit of a better tomorrow. The room seems to hold its breath as they hammer out the details, their voices the only sound in the ancient chamber. And when at last the terms are agreed upon, they stand, their hands joined once more, not in a telepathic bond, but in a handshake of friendship and mutual respect. The treaty is signed, the ink still wet on the ancient parchment, and the room feels lighter, as if a great burden has been lifted. They have taken the first step towards a new era of peace, and Kirk knows that this is only the beginning.

As the treaty is signed, Kirk and Tavel come to a silent understanding. The immediate emancipation of the Reman slaves is not feasible due to the complex societal structures and power dynamics at play within the Romulan Empire. However, Kirk is determined to honor the promise made during their telepathic exchange. According to their new agreement, the Federation will offer economic and technological aid to help the Empire gradually reduce its reliance on slave labor. This assistance will be provided discreetly, allowing the Romulan government to save face while enacting the necessary changes internally. Tavel is hopeful that this alliance will lead to the eventual abolition of slavery within his people's society. The treaty is a delicate balance, a strategic dance of words and intentions that both sides are aware could be their salvation or their downfall. Yet, as they part ways, Kirk can't help but feel a spark of hope. The Federation's assistance is not just about politics or power; it's about recognizing the inherent dignity and worth of every sentient being. As they step back onto the transporter pad, the warmth of their newfound alliance a stark contrast to the cold metal beneath their feet, Kirk knows that they have forged a bond that could reshape the destiny of two great civilizations. The light of the transporter beam envelops them, and as they fade from the Atheneum, they carry with them the weight of their shared promise and the hope for a brighter future.

The trio of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beam back to the Enterprise, their thoughts still reeling from the intense and emotionally charged meeting with Tavel. As they step off the transporter pad, they are met with an unexpected sight: the corridor is filled with Romulan officers and soldiers from Tavel's ship. The air is thick with tension, the Romulans' expressions a mix of confusion and suspicion. Kirk quickly assesses the situation, his hand instinctively moving to the phaser at his side. "We come in peace," he declares, his voice echoing through the corridor. The Romulans stare at them, their eyes narrowed. "Commander Tavel has agreed to our terms," Kirk continues, his voice firm but calm. "We are now allies in the pursuit of peace and justice." The Romulans look to one another, then back to Kirk, their confusion slowly giving way to surprise and, in some cases, anger. "We must inform them of the treaty," Spock says, his voice low. "Their understanding is critical to the success of our mission." Kirk nods, stepping forward. "This is Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock," he says, his voice carrying the authority of a seasoned diplomat. "We have negotiated a peace treaty that will benefit both our peoples. We ask for your cooperation and trust in this delicate matter." The Romulans hesitate, their eyes flickering to the gloves in Kirk's pocket, evidence of the intimate bond he shares with their commander. Slowly, they begin to lower their weapons, their suspicion replaced by curiosity. Kirk knows that this is just the beginning. The real challenge will be convincing the rest of the Romulan Empire to follow Tavel's lead. But for now, they have taken the first step on a journey that could redefine the very fabric of the galaxy.

During their discussions, the Romulans have presented a critical request to Kirk. They seek a planet within Federation space where they can establish a colony for the Reman refugees. This would be a monumental gesture of goodwill, showing that the Federation is committed to the long-term stability and prosperity of the Reman people. Kirk considers the implications of such an offer, the potential political and social ramifications, and the logistical challenges involved. He knows that finding a suitable planet will not be easy; it must be a place that can sustain Romulan life, be far enough from any existing colonies to avoid conflict, and be strategically advantageous to neither side. Yet, the opportunity to provide a new home for the oppressed Remans is one that Kirk cannot ignore. He looks at Spock, who meets his gaze with a knowing nod. They both understand the gravity of the request. "We will begin the search immediately," Kirk tells Tavel, his voice firm. "Our science and exploration teams will work tirelessly to find a suitable location. We stand with you in this endeavor." Tavel's eyes light up with hope, the barest hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, Captain," he says. "I am sure the Remans will be grateful for your compassion." The crew of the Enterprise now faces a new mission, one that could have profound implications for the future of the galaxy. They must navigate the complexities of interspecies politics, the vastness of uncharted space, and the depths of their own hearts as they seek a new home for the Romulan refugees. The challenge is great, but so is the potential for change. And as they set a course for the unknown, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy are united in their determination to bring peace and justice to all corners of the cosmos.

The Romulan contingent aboard the Enterprise informs Kirk that they have been tasked with preparing the selected colony planet for the Reman refugees' arrival. The planet, a veritable Eden in a sea of stars, has been meticulously chosen for its ability to support Romulan and Reman life and its strategic neutrality. The crew, now a blend of Starfleet officers and Romulan soldiers, work tirelessly to construct shelters, establish agricultural centers, and lay the groundwork for a society that has known only oppression. Kirk paces the bridge, his eyes on the viewscreen as the planet grows larger. The sight of the blue-green world fills him with a sense of hope and purpose. He turns to Spock, who is busy at his station, coordinating the efforts. "We're getting reports of unrest on Romulus," Kirk says, his voice tight. "The Senate is divided on the issue of slavery." Spock looks up, his gaze unwavering. "The path to peace is never a straight line, Captain," he replies. "But with Tavel's influence and our support, we may yet see change." Kirk nods, his jaw set. "We've come too far to turn back now." The ship enters orbit, and the captain's voice booms over the intercom. "All hands, this is your captain speaking. Today, we stand on the precipice of history. We are not just building a colony; we are planting the seeds of a new alliance. Let us do so with honor and courage." The crew responds with a chorus of acknowledgments, their voices a testament to their shared commitment. And as the Enterprise descends into the planet's atmosphere, Kirk knows that the future of two great civilizations rests in their hands. The stakes have never been higher, but so too has their resolve. They are the architects of a new tomorrow, and together, they will forge a destiny of peace and freedom.

As the Enterprise and its Romulan counterpart, the Imperial Falcon, converge on the chosen colony planet, Kirk is struck by the Romulan officers' attentiveness to the Reman laborers. They speak to them with a respect that seems out of place in a society known for its rigid caste system and the cruel treatment of its underclass. The Remans, in turn, respond with a mix of surprise and tentative hope. Their eyes dart between the Romulan officers and the Starfleet crew, searching for signs of genuine care. Kirk watches from the bridge, his heart swelling with pride in his own people's willingness to extend a helping hand. The planet's surface is a flurry of activity as the two crews work side by side, the once-desolate landscape slowly transforming into a bustling hub of life. The Romulans, under Tavel's guidance, seem to have adopted a more empathetic approach, listening to the Remans' suggestions and addressing their concerns with surprising sensitivity. Kirk can't help but feel a sense of awe at the power of unity and compassion. This alliance, forged in the fires of adversity, is beginning to reshape the very fabric of their understanding of one another. And as the first structures rise from the ground, a beacon of hope in a galaxy too often ruled by fear, Kirk knows that they are witnessing the birth of something truly extraordinary. An image of the bustling colony forms in his mind, a tableau of diverse species working together, their hearts and minds entwined in a shared vision of a better tomorrow. He turns to Spock, who is observing the progress with his usual stoicism. "We're making history, Spock," Kirk says, a smile playing on his lips. "Let's make sure it's a history worth telling." Spock nods, his eyes reflecting the same hope. "Indeed, Captain," he replies. "The future is ours to shape."

Kirk and Tavel stand on the bridge of the Enterprise, their eyes locked in a gaze that speaks of friendship and shared determination. Tavel's voice is low and earnest as he suggests a friendly meeting between Kirk's officers and a group of Romulan officers who had assisted in preparing the planet. "To show that our relations are truly improving," he says, a hint of hope in his voice. Kirk nods, understanding the strategic value of such a gesture. "Your officers are welcome on the Enterprise," he says, extending an open hand. "A friendly chat, as you say, can go a long way in fostering trust and cooperation." The message is clear: they are willing to put aside their differences for the sake of a brighter future. The air in the room seems to crackle with anticipation as the details are finalized. The meeting is set for the evening, in the ship's lounge, a place where holographic fireplaces cast a warm glow and the scent of exotic spices fills the air. The chosen officers are those who have shown the most openness to the idea of peace and cooperation. Kirk knows that this is not just a social engagement; it is a delicate dance of diplomacy, where every word and gesture could mean the difference between war and peace. He straightens his uniform, steeling himself for the challenge ahead. As the Romulan shuttle approaches, Kirk can't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. This is uncharted territory, a chance to change the course of history. And as the doors to the lounge open and the Romulan officers file in, he is reminded of the weight of his responsibility. The evening stretches before them, filled with the potential for misunderstanding and mistrust. But as they sit down, their expressions open and curious, Kirk knows that they are all here for the same reason: to build a bridge between their worlds. The conversation flows, a tapestry of cultures and ideas woven together by the threads of mutual respect. They share stories, laugh, and even engage in a friendly game of three-dimensional chess. By the end of the night, the atmosphere has shifted from one of tentative curiosity to one of camaraderie. The officers, once divided by the vastness of space and the entrenched dogmas of their societies, now share a bond forged in the fires of shared experience. And as the Romulan shuttle departs, Kirk and Tavel exchange a knowing look. They have taken a significant step towards peace, one that could resonate through the annals of galactic history.

In Kirk's quarters, the captain and Tavel share a quiet moment, the weight of their recent achievements hanging heavily in the air. Kirk pours two glasses of Saurian brandy, handing one to the Romulan commander. "It's incredible," Kirk says, raising his glass. "The way your officers have embraced the Remans, it's unlike anything I've ever seen from the Romulan Empire." Tavel's eyes darken slightly, and he takes a sip before speaking. "There's something you need to know, Captain," he says, his tone measured. "Those officers you've come to know, the ones working alongside us so willingly... they're not actually Romulans." Kirk's eyebrows shoot up, and he sets his glass down with a thunk. "What do you mean?" Tavel pauses, choosing his words carefully.

"When my ship first arrived in Federation space, it was filled with escaping Reman slaves," Tavel reveals, his gaze unwavering. "They have permanently disguised themselves as Romulans to make this colony planet possible." Kirk's eyes widen in shock, and he leans forward, his hand tightening around his glass. "But why?" he asks, his voice hushed. "To escape the tyranny of the Empire," Tavel explains. "The Remans are a strong and resilient people, but we have been subjugated for too long. This alliance, this colony, it's our chance to start anew." Kirk nods slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The Romulan officers he had come to respect were actually the very people they were trying to help. The complexity of their situation deepens, but Kirk's resolve remains steadfast. "We will honor our agreement," he says firmly. "And together, we'll ensure that this planet becomes a beacon of hope for all those who seek refuge from oppression." The two leaders clink their glasses together, the amber liquid a toast to the brave souls who have chosen to stand against the tide of history. They drink in silence, the warmth of the brandy mingling with the cold reality of their shared secret. The future is uncertain, but in this moment, they are united in their quest for freedom and a better tomorrow.

Kirk looks at Tavel with a mix of admiration and concern. "I can't even begin to imagine the sacrifices they've made, living among their oppressors, pretending to be one of them," he says, his voice tinged with emotion. "But isn't it going to be hard for them, pretending to be Romulans for the rest of their lives? They'll be surrounded by their own people, yet they'll have to remain apart, maintaining this deception." Tavel nods solemnly, his gaze reflecting the weight of the decision that was made. "It is a heavy burden they bear," he agrees. "But it is a burden they carry willingly for the sake of their people. They are the vanguard of a new era, Captain. They understand that their sacrifice now can mean the salvation of the Reman race." Kirk takes a deep breath, his hand resting on Tavel's shoulder. "We'll do everything in our power to support them," he promises. "They won't be alone in this." The room is silent for a long moment, the gravity of their conversation a stark contrast to the cheerful sounds of the celebration outside. They know that the path ahead is fraught with danger and deception, but in that quiet space, their friendship feels unshakeable. And as they sip their brandy, they share a silent vow to stand together, to fight for the rights of the oppressed, and to ensure that the light of freedom burns brightly for generations to come.

Captain, I feel compelled to share something deeply personal with you," Tavel says, his voice thick with emotion. "I, too, am Reman. Our telepathic abilities are a cornerstone of our culture, a way to connect and understand one another beyond words. The Remans on this colony will find solace in their shared experiences, their minds entwined in a tapestry of thoughts and feelings. But for me, it has been a long journey to find someone I can trust with such intimacy." Kirk's eyes widen in surprise, but his expression quickly softens into one of understanding. "You've found that trust in us," he says, his voice gentle. "In me, in Spock, in McCoy, and in the entire crew of the Enterprise." Tavel nods, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you," he whispers. "Your friendship means more to me than I can express." Kirk clinks his glass against Tavel's once more, the sound echoing through the quiet room. "To new beginnings," he says, his voice strong and sure. "And to the enduring bond between our peoples." They drink deeply, the warmth of the brandy a symbol of the friendship that has grown between them, a friendship that could redefine the very fabric of their existence. The stars outside their window seem to shine a little brighter, a testament to the hope that now burns in their hearts. They stand together, two leaders from worlds apart, bound by a shared vision of a universe where no one is left behind, and all are free to pursue their destinies.

As the night deepens, Kirk and Tavel find themselves drawn together, their shared experiences creating an unspoken bond that transcends the boundaries of duty and diplomacy. They take each other's hands, the warmth of their skin a stark contrast to the cold metal of the table between them. Their eyes lock, and in that moment, they realize that the spark of attraction they felt during their initial telepathic connection has not been extinguished. It has grown, fanned by the flames of their shared passion for justice and their yearning for companionship in a galaxy that often seems cold and unforgiving. They form a telepathic bond once more, this time not out of necessity but out of desire. Their thoughts intertwine, a dance of yearning and hope that leaves no room for doubt. They both long for each other romantically, a feeling that is both surprising and exhilarating. In the quiet of Kirk's quarters, with the ship's engines humming a steady bass line, they allow themselves to feel the full force of their emotions. It is a revelation, a moment of pure connection that fills them with a warmth that is as comforting as it is thrilling. They understand that their newfound love is fraught with complexity, with the potential to upend the delicate balance of their alliance. But as they stand there, hand in hand, they also know that it is a risk worth taking. For in the vastness of space, the most precious thing of all is the warmth of the heart that beats beside yours, the touch of the hand that understands your soul. And as they lean in, their foreheads touching, they share a silent promise: to navigate the treacherous waters of their interstellar romance with the same courage and conviction that guides their mission for peace.

Kirk leans back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful. "Tavel," he says, his voice low and serious. "I have an idea. One that could take our alliance to new heights and truly cement our bond." Tavel looks at him, curiosity piqued. "What do you propose?" Kirk takes a deep breath, his eyes shining with determination. "I think you should formally request the Romulan Empire to assign you to the Enterprise, as an official liaison. This would show the Senate that our friendship is not just a fleeting moment, but a strategic partnership for the betterment of both our peoples." Tavel's eyes widen, the implications of Kirk's suggestion sinking in. It would mean living among the very beings he had once considered enemies, but the thought of working side by side with Kirk, of continuing their mission of peace and exploration, fills him with excitement. "It's a bold move," he says, his voice filled with admiration. "But one that could change everything." Kirk nods, his eyes never leaving Tavel's. "We've come this far," he says. "Let's not stop now." The air in the room seems to crackle with the electricity of their shared vision. They know that their relationship, both personal and professional, will face challenges. But as they stand together, their hands still clasped, they are ready to face whatever the universe throws at them. For they are no longer just captain and commander, but comrades in arms, fighting for a future where love and understanding conquer all. And with that, they set a course not just for the colony but for the stars themselves, ready to boldly go where no one has gone before, together.

Kirk and Tavel find themselves lost in each other's eyes, the gravity of their situation giving way to the intensity of their feelings. They lean closer, the warmth of their breath mingling as their lips meet in a tender kiss. It is a moment of pure connection, a silent declaration of love that transcends the barriers of language and species. Their hands roam, exploring the contours of each other's faces, tracing the lines of their jaws and the arches of their eyebrows. The kiss deepens, becoming a passionate exchange of emotions and desires. The stars outside the window of Kirk's quarters seem to hold their breath, as if watching the unfolding of a new chapter in the cosmic saga of love and friendship. The world around them fades away, leaving only the two of them, entwined in a dance as old as time itself. They make out, their bodies pressed together, hearts beating in sync. It is a moment of intimacy that feels both stolen and absolutely right, a promise of a future filled with shared adventures and quiet nights under alien skies. The kiss lingers, a beacon of hope in a universe that often seems cold and indifferent. But in that moment, Kirk and Tavel know that they have found something that not even the vastness of space can tear apart: a love that burns as bright as the stars they navigate, a bond that is as strong as the steel hull of the Enterprise itself.

Kirk and Tavel, their hearts racing with the excitement of their shared revelation, begin to remove their uniforms, each movement a silent testament to their trust and desire. The soft rustle of fabric and the gentle clank of metal as they discard their rank insignia echo through the dimly lit room. Their eyes never leave each other's, the connection between them growing stronger with every layer that falls away. Kirk's chest is bare, revealing the scars of battles past, a map of his life's journey. Tavel's skin is cool to the touch, a stark contrast to Kirk's warmth. They move towards the bed, a symbol of comfort and unity amidst the cold vastness of space. The mattress sighs as they lay down, their bodies fitting together as if they had been made for this very moment. The room is filled with the faint scent of their desire, a heady mix of sweat, cologne, and the faint metallic scent of their respective species. Their kisses become more urgent, their hands more exploratory, as they seek to know each other fully. The bedcovers are soon discarded, leaving them exposed under the soft glow of the room's ambient lighting. Their kisses become a symphony of passion, a silent language that needs no translation. They are not just captain and commander anymore, but lovers, bound by a love that is as vast and as uncharted as the cosmos itself. And as they move together, their bodies entwined, they know that they have found something that can survive the harshest of realities, a love that is as eternal as the stars they explore.

[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin Episode 4: Cent'anni Breakdown

She goes through all these different levels of all these different personas: excellent daughter, overachiever, and this horrific feral state in Arkham. And it's not until the yellow dress that she finds the one that fits.

Kind of like sharks can't stop moving or they sink. It's that relentless pursuit of justice.

This changes her forever. She never comes back. Something so much bigger than her takes over in order to survive - Cristin Milioti

This was pointed out to me by my friend and, show of hands everyone, who else thinks it's unbelievably fucking sick that it is Sofia who gets to show up at the Falcone dinner table, wearing a thematically appropriate embodiment of her childhood trauma, and do a "None of you are safe" speech?

(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 5) (Episode 6) (Episode 7) (Episode 8)

It probably felt odd to spend time with Sofia when we’re in a show called The Penguin. But I think it’s just as important so you can understand Oz psychologically. Even though I don’t view Oz as a hero or a villain, he is a greater villain in the show than anyone else. And for you to feel that way, I think you have to understand his primary antagonist more. And that’s Sofia.” - Lauren LeFranc

I gotta say I'm generally not enthusiastic about Penguin being depicted as overtly disgusting, like drooling and eating raw fish and all that Burton stuff (actually I do think the black bile is cool, but only so far as as that version goes), but for that opening scene, that was a spectacularly well-placed bit of grossness. Like this sheer craven animalistic ugliness of DeVito's Penguin descending for a second to show us how Sofia sees Oz, and even how right she is to do so at the moment because holy shit hahahahahaha

From what we can see of Sofia's pre-Arkham life, she was basically the Meadow Soprano of the family: The smart, overachieving golden child, whose social standing and eligitibility for leadership wouldn't even be up for debate if she was born a man like her loser brother (love AJ, relate uncomfortably to AJ, he's not at all morally comparable to Alberto, but he is very much a loser). Socially conscious and sticking up for victims but only if you don't poke too closely at her victim-generating family business, aware of some things but willfully blind to her own hypocrisy and insistent that daddy is still in average a good man who isn't as bad as people around her may say he is. I'd even say that the Sofia we see here is a more moral person than Meadow, although obviously being the daughter of Carmine Falcone is a much scarier, more isolating and horrific prospect than growing up the daughter of Tony Soprano (the ways in which the two Sopranos kids diverged and majorly prefigured American socio-political developments that kicked off after the show is a topic for another post).

(Also, I don't really want to bring up Sopranos comparisons because the shows are similar, they're really not, but I finished The Sopranos yesterday so they're gonna come up still)

I think Mark Strong does a really good job here filling in for John Turturro's role, even if he's not quite as good in it as Turturro. I think he plays the character differently in a way that works really well for this being a past version of Carmine, filtered through Sofia's vision. He is imposing and quiet and mighty, a lone titan of unquestionable power over the entire world, not even remotely someone to be defied or displeased. Turturro's Falcone was charismatic and affable and oozing with unspeakable yet casual cruelty, and I would have liked that here, but I like the idea that we're seeing a Carmine from before he was invincible, when he still needed Sofia to help him get Congressman Hill on the phone and still worried about the future of the family at Alberto's hands, a Carmine from when the Maronis were still around and he wasn't the sole ruling power in Gotham, who could still possibly lose even without vigilante intervention.

He is larger, more imposing, a stern and stoic father who had little use for pleasantries, and with no mirth to be had at the expense of the little people who think they can do anything against him that matters, even if he is getting there. I think the difference here adds a nice little arc to Carmine: there was a time where he needed to keep up appearences, there was a time where he raised his voice above a whisper to get things done, and there was a time where he wasn't the real mayor of Gotham. There was a time where he was a "proper" Don, when he acted like his comics counterpart, and none of that really became necessary over the following decade, when he grew more and more invincible and isolated and comfortable in this nightmare he made the city into.

They also confirm here that apparently the Iceberg Lounge/44 Below existed way back when Oz was just Sofia's driver, and it was already Carmine's prostitute slaughterhouse even then and Alberto knew about it. Possibly explains why Oz was handed the club in the first place, because the Falcones already called him Sofia's penguin and putting The Penguin in charge of the Iceberg Lounge would fit their idea of a laugh (and given how much Oz hates being called Penguin, he would hardly come up with the name himself)

Lmao, those dog comparisons I keep making really don't stop justifying themselves.

Credit again to Mike Marino and the prosthetics team for this younger Oz make-up, he strikes a very nice middleground between current Oz and the one we see as a kid.

Really like what we see of Sofia and Oz's dynamic here, again reinforcing that for all intents and purposes he was the sidekick in her HBO protagonist life. We see how Sofia likes his company and how she even kinda defends him from the family, but she really cannot bring herself to respect him very much and disdains him from the same very upper-class perspective the rest of the family does, she's just nicer about it. And in turn we see parts of where Oz's resentment to her comes from, and also the extent to which Oz was always lying in wait for an opportunity to get ahead regardless of her, his justified grievances as well as him being a conniving fuck. The really thin line this treads though, is that it establishes that neither of them were lying about how they meant something to each other, even if it doesn't help.

Sofia did have her life ruined partially because of Oz, she did endure horrific things while he got a promotion because he ratted her out to Carmine, and he very much did in part because he wanted to get ahead and saw an opportunity to do so. But also, Oz genuinely had no idea that this is what Carmine would do, and I think in large part this was also about keeping himself safe. It's not even that unbelievable that he was genuinely looking out for her, because holy shit you do not talk to the press about Carmine Falcone, daughter or not, and he tried warning her in the car before she rebuffed him and insulted him pretty deep for good measure. If Sofia talked to the press and would not stop talking (since he didn't know in the car that she rebuffed Gleeson) and shit started happening because of her snooping around, he would have absolutely gotten punished/murdered for it, it is not at all a stretch to assume that Carmine would have done something to Oz as punishment to Sofia.

Oz didn't plan any kind of misfortune, at no point did he mastermind her admission into Arkham (or even help keep her there with the letters, like the rest of the family), he just told Carmine something he shouldn't have, and neither of them expected anything too terrible was gonna come out of it. They both wildly underestimated what a complete scumbag Carmine is, but with Carmine (and the others) gone, there's nobody else to turn those grievances to.

Even if Oz could claim deniability for the Arkham thing, which he kinda can't but Sofia even tried to grant him anyway, he sure as shit can't for everything else he does in the opening minutes.

Oh hey it's Mr Mustache With The Broken Nose.

A thing that came to mind when I was watching the episode was the story of Rosemary Kennedy, JFK's sister whose father arranged for her to be institutionalized and lobotomized at age 23 as a reponse to "difficult" behavior. I'm not recounting it in more detail here because the rest of it is just too horrific, look it up yourself if you're curious. I remembered it because reading about Rosemary Kennedy ruined my fucking day and it still pumps up the breaks in my train of thought every now and then, so it came to mind watching this story about a young woman horrifically institutionalized and butchered for the sake of her wealthy family's image. Later I heard the podcast, and turns out that actually was exactly what Lauren LeFranc based Sofia's story on, which was nice. I'm glad it also fucks Lauren LeFranc up and that we both agree she should have gotten to wreak revenge on the entire family over it, thank you Penguin Show that continues to be made for me, this was nice.

Oh hey, Magpie. Just the name, yeah, but that was another nice surprise. I used to have a bit of a soft spot for Magpie, occasionally I thought there was something to get out of her and Penguin together, so a part of me likes that they put Magpie in The Penguin show even if just in name. Yes, she only exists to be annoying and die, but that's what she already tends to do anyway. And y'know, much as I may like her, she is still a John Byrne character, so she doesn't really deserve much more than that

Jesus Christ this episode gets uncomfortable.

I like that this establishes that Julian Rush kinda did make an effort to help her and kinda felt bad about it, but not nearly enough, and that he is very much a complicit contemptible creep who has it coming as much as any of the people who put Sofia in there.

Cannot state enough how much I appreciate that they didn't put any actual named Batman villains in the Arkham Asylum episode, guarantee a lot of creators would not resist the temptation. I mean okay I guess there is a Ventris already in Batman but, come on, you know who I mean. This did not need any references to like, Jeremiah Arkham or Jonathan Crane or Hugo Strange or any of that, and that's not a diss on any of those guys, it's just that unlike pretty much every other Batman story, this episode does not undercut it's point about the horrific institutional horrors dehumanizing and destroying Sofia by pinning it on a chief boogeyman supervillain that Batman is going to fight later. Dr. Ventris is not responsible for the systemic rot that got her there nor is he the sole orchestrator/perpetrator of the abuse it's inmates suffer, he simply answers to those, and thus perpetuates them, by doing his job in a mental institution.

I am still haunted by the inmate committing suicide with a fork. It is so fucked up that Sofia was tortured and goaded by the doctors into murdering another inmate, and when that failed, they tortured her again and again and again until she snapped. The whole point was to push Sofia beyond the breaking point to justify further incarceration. The doctors just standing there letting her kill Magpie.

I want Dr.Rush to die.

I have more thoughts on Arkham, but I'd call this the most horrific take on Arkham so far, because it is the most honest take on Arkham so far. Even at it's most run-down and monstrous, it is usually never at all into question that Arkham Asylum is necessary, because if it wasn't there, all the crazies would run rampant in Gotham. Over the years, it's monstrousness has always been tied directly and specifically to it's inmates, and whenever people have pointed out the shoddy conditions and inhospitable environment of Arkham as a factor for repeat offenders, it's pretty much always as a fandom joke outside of Batman stories proper, and if there is anything wrong with the way the Asylum works, it is always the fault of particularly evil villains attached. A Lock-Up, a Jeremiah Arkham, a Hugo Strange, etc. Arkham Asylum is in general a Batman concept that's raised a lot of discussions and calls for revision over the years, and a lot of the issues with it tie into larger issues around superhero depictions of the carceral system, that @artbyblastweave went into here.

Here, in large part because this is a realistic world and a Gotham without a rampaging supervillain contingent of repeat offenders who can magically break out constantly, it is never into question that the patients are the victims of this system, and if they are being turned into potential supervillains, it is because of Arkham inflicting this on them. This is an Arkham Asylum that remains a nightmarish, horrific force in this world, but not because it's Castle Dracula where all the crazy villains hang out, not even just because the rest of Gotham is hopelessly rotten and corrupt, but because it's a mental institution and depicted accordingly. It gets to dig into the real life horrors mental institutions inflict on it's patients without having to justify those measures as benign or necessary to keep crazy crimes from happening. Frankly, this take on Arkham Asylum has been long overdue.

In every form of Batman media, just about the worst thing that can happen at any given moment is Arkham Asylum falling and it's inmates escaping into the streets, that's generally what happens when Batman needs to deal with apocalyptic stakes (which is why of course it happens all the fucking time now). Here, that scenario would be regarded with cheer, because the worst thing that can happen in this universe is being sent to Arkham Asylum. It isn't just Batman's unofficial personal prison / punching gallery, if anything it massively raises the stakes on this Batman's next adventures, because now we know this is what's waiting for him if he gets caught and unmasked.

I like that Sofia and Oz are both trying to save/protect those they see as younger versions of themselves, while inflicting on them the kinds of tragedies that ultimately created them

Oz reached out to this poor disabled kid from the streets and is showing him the ropes, while also belittling him as a nobody and distorting his worldview and dragging him into life or death cornered scrapdog situations chipping away at his morals. Sofia saves her little niece who laughs at bad table manners and doesn't quite do what her family says, gently lulling her to sleep so she can kill her mom and her entire family.

Extremely important that Sofia Falcone makes her formal arrival as a villain by showing up dressed in a sexy yet fitting extension of her trauma / cultural reference (The Yellow Wallpaper / the walls in her mother's bedroom), before putting on a mask and enacting Gotham's first Mass Casualty Gas Attack, we love to see it.

I was frankly already calling Sofia one of my favorite Bat-villains even before this episode, I'm just glad everyone seems to be on the same page with me now. I'm seeing a lot of posts on Twitter and Instagram talking about how they're rooting for Sofia instead of Oz, that she deserves to win this war, and good, fucking amazing that they're doing this, again, this show is hitting home runs I could not have foreseen.

It is incredible what a character they've made out of Sofia, and the fact that we now see Oz as her antagonist as much as we see Sofia as his, and the fact that if Penguin wins, he will win this as a villain. He will steal a victory he does not deserve and rub it in your face and he will make the children of the world cry for it as any villain worth his name should be doing, and it frankly wouldn't be much of a fight if Sofia wasn't every bit the complicated, engaging protagonist he is. Lauren LeFranc claimed that she sees Sofia is the closest the show has to a hero even if she is not, and this is the episode that sold everyone on it.

Halfway through the show and it's only gotten better and better, can't wait for what's coming next.

[walkingstackofbooks]

DS9 4x09 Our Man Bashir thoughts (I’m re-watching, so beware spoilers for future episodes!) [2 July '23]

*window crash* wait, no, is this...? AH YISSS, IT'S OUR MAN BASHIR, I am so hype to see this again!

I mean that the glass bottle trick was smooth

"Bashir. Julian Bashir." And then Garak starts clapping, hilarious

Aww, Garak being sad that Julian has been too busy with his new holosuite programme to spend time with him - when he finds out it's a spy programme, to boot, do you think he felt he was being replaced by something fancier and better? That Julian only hung around with him because he was a spy?

"It's so unusual for you to have secrets"... little do you know, Garak. If you're excited about this, how much will you enjoy his augmentation secret?

WHY ARE THEY STANDING SO CLOSE TO EACH OTHER (gayyyyy)

"I wonder what scared her away. You must be incensed." Garak is baiting him so much XD Yes, Julian, he wants you to be mad

This is already such a fun episode, I'd forgotten quite how much!

"I think I joined the wrong intelligence service." IS THAT AN ADMISSION, GARAK?! You've never admitted to being a spy before, I am sure!

Why does Julian need to get his suits made by Garak if the holosuite can produce clothes - or are all of these costumes his valet is bringing out ones he's bought and somehow saved in the programme?

"Nerys, please." There's just something about the way he says this. He's not acting angry like he is at Garak, he's seemingly more cautious about telling her off for being here? I guess he's starting to think it's not Kira?

Odo going "That sounded like Kira!" even though she sounds Russian... Something something universal translator? Or he's just so attuned to her?

Julian is so pissed with this turn off events disrupting everything into something lethal. He just wanted a fun time

I have never noticed the falcon on Miles' eyepatch before!

"But that's Miles." - The way Julian says that is so gentle...

His soft "Sorry, my dear" to his dead valet - oh, my love :3

"Right behind the spatula." Oh, ROM. Incredible engineering XD

"Welcome to paradise." Okay, Avery Brooks just stole this scene.

How have I only just realised the symbolism of the villain, who is trying to flood the world and restart a better life, being called Noah?

"O'Brien's gonna kill me when he gets back." XD

Ohhh I was wondering how they got from Dr Noah's room to the tunnel - I had forgotten the being-tied-up scene

"Honey, will you grant me one last request and take off those glasses?" Yes Garak, that eye roll is what we're all thinking... Julian's acting is so ridiculously earnest XD "Kiss the girl, get the key - they never taught me that in the Obsidian Order." Garak is being so unusually frank! Is this part of his ploy to win back Julian from the game? Trying to remind him that I was a real spy, you know, my dear doctor?

The waver in Julian's voice as he says "If you call for the exit, you might kill Sisko and the others..." :3

Boy, their argument in the tunnel is such a tense scene, even better than I remember!

"You dream of being a hero because deep down you're not." OUCH. The worst thing is, Julian probably agrees.

"That's all about to end now isn't it?" - bit of London accent sneaking in there

"It's working just as you planned! You've done it, Doctor." "Yes.But somehow I didn't expect to win."

Oh I love everything about this sceeeeene

"Lunch tomorrow?" "Of course. But why don't we have it at your place, in Hong Kong?" I DO NOT REMEMBER THAT LINE. WOW. GAY.

Okay, yeah, this is the point where they get together imo.

I mean everyone knows this episode is fantastic, but also, THIS EPISODE IS BLOODY FANTASTIC AND I LOVE IT TO BITS.

[gabi-theladylover]

made my first "comic".

Translation under the cut because I'm too tired to redo the text in English.

Kaneda: Hey, hey Himuro come and see!

Himuro: oh, wut happen-WHAT THE FUCK.

Lihito: We were gonna go to the cinema but, god fucking damn it, we got stuck in these poses.

Himuro: I'm not even gonna question it...

Kaneda: We think (basically just me) that it's because we're missing Leonardo

Okubo: So, we wanted to ask you if you wanna be Leonardo, 'cause you're alread-

Himuro: NO

Okubo: Y tho?

Himuro: Because it's for idiots.

The other three: No shit. Also, your motif is wrong, sucker.

Big sigh

Himuro: Wouldn't it be easier to call, I dunno, Koga or Falcon? They both like Turtles and Ninjas.

Lihito: First of all, talk less, God dammit; Second of all, we invited Kuroki and he's currently waitinf for us outside the cinema.

Change of places: TO KUROKI!

Kuroki: Where the balls are those youngsters...

Falcon: MASTER OMG LOOK IT'S THE REAL MASTER SPLINTER OMG OMG I'M HIS BIGGEST FAN OMG!!!!

Kuroki:... and what the fuck is Albert doing, God dammit, how embarrassing... I regret taking him as my student.

BACK TO THE IDIOTS!

Himuro: So... you're telling me you invited Kuroki "The Devil Lance" Gensai to see TMNT: Mutant Chaos with you? And he accepted? And he's currently waiting for you, but you are all currently frozen in these poses because you're missing Leonardo?

The other three: YES

Himuro: I'M IN

The 4 idiots get to the cinema

Lihito: Hai Kuroki!!!!! We made it!!!! :3

Kuroki: about time.

Lihito: sory :(

Kuroki: Ya know you can take those costumes off? You're adults now.

Himuro: I hate everyone of you. EVERYONE. Die fucking southerners.

Lihito: it happens.

Big ass explosion

The five of them: whatafak.

Kuroki: thank god Albert died.

[multiversefanfics]

You Make Me Feel Good

A/N: I'm not good at summaries buuuuuut, Bucky has redeemed himself and this is most likely the last part of this mini-series, mostly because I don't know how to continue it. Hope you like it. :)

Warning: swearing? fluff, mention of a boner, a little bit of smut (oral, male receiving)

It's been a month since the mission and no one has talked about what happened and it was killing you, only because you need to talk about it before it drives you crazy. You don't like keeping things bottled up. Everyone is walking around acting as if nothing happened. You sighed and took your cup of coffee outside to the balcony where you and Sam would normally have your morning chat, but he hasn't gotten out of bed yet. You sat back, sipping your coffee and trying to relax when you felt a presence behind you, you looked over your shoulder and saw Sam smiling with his cup of coffee. "Good morning, Y/N" You smiled back and returned his greeting. "Alright, out with it." You sipped your coffee once more and shrugged your shoulders "I can't pretend like I wasn't choked and raised from the ground by someone who claims to love me." He put both of his hands on his cup and leaned on his knees "That wasn't Bucky.." You sighed and nodded "I know it wasn't Bucky, but that just proves that the winter soldier is still in him and that freaks me out. I love him, Sam. He makes me so happy but what if something happens again." You watched Sam shift in his chair trying to get comfortable "Well, I don't know if he told you or not but he's been going to therapy and in my opinion, it's been working. Also, you don't need to worry about anything happening again, we're all here for you." You smiled and walked inside cracking jokes and calling Sam, the "Black Falcon"

You were sitting on the couch watching a movie when you heard the door open, you looked over and saw Bucky walking in you flashed him a smile as he walked over to the couch. "Hey, Doll" You watched as he moved your legs so he could lay his head on your lap, you smiled and ran your fingers through his hair "What's wrong, love?" He closed his eyes and relaxed into your lap. "Just had an eventful day" Is he gonna tell you about therapy, are you gonna be able to tell him how you feel without him getting offended or angry with what you need to say. "Wanna tell me about it?" You continued combing your fingers through his hair hoping that he would tell you a little something. He sighed and looked up at you poking your cheek lightly "Well, ever since that night I've been going to therapy and it's really been helping me get through my past" You smiled so wide while he was telling you about his day that you couldn't feel your cheeks anymore not that you cared, Bucky was finally opening up and now you had the confidence to open up to him. "Bucky, I need to tell you something and I want you to promise me you won't get offended." Your heart began to race, and you took a deep breath and made eye contact with Bucky. "I am terrified that the winter soldier is still in you and that something will happen again" He sat up taking your hands in his rubbing the top of them with his thumbs "That is why I am going to therapy, I never ever want to hurt you again even if I wasn't actually there I never want my hands to do any harm to you, Doll. You are the best thing to ever happen to me even if I was a huge douche to you before." You couldn't help but smile at him and stare deeply into his eyes getting lost in those beautiful ocean blue eyes.

"So.. are you two gonna kiss or are we gonna have to wait and sneak up on you guys?" Both of your heads snapped to where the voice came from and it was Sam, Natasha, Wanda, Bruce, and even Tony. You felt the heat dance across your cheeks, and you looked over at Bucky who had the same reaction. You took it upon yourself to cup his cheeks in your hands and turn his head towards you. "Pucker up, lover boy" You smiled and gently planted your lips against his. He was shocked at first but relaxed and kissed you back, his hands found their way to your hips, and he slowly pulls you onto his lap deepening the kiss at the same time, your hands moved from his face to the back of his head, combing your fingers through his hair "Alright, alright we said kiss not make a baby on our couch." You giggled and looked up sticking your tongue out at Tony "Sorry, Dad." He rolled his eyes walking away "Don't call me that." Everyone shared a laugh and went their separate ways. You noticed you were still on Bucky's lap, you felt comfortable but you could feel something on your inner thigh you looked at Bucky "Um, Bucky" He avoided eye contact, he knew exactly what you were talking about but didn't want to admit to it. You smirked and leaned down getting dangerously close to his earlobe whispering softly "Want me to take care of that?" His whole body tensed up, you slowly rolled your hips against his earning a deep growl from him "You're going to be the death of me." You stood up holding your hand out for him to grab and follow you. You led him up the stairs and into your room, you locked the door behind you watching Bucky walk and sit on the edge of your bed.

"I'm going to make you feel good." You smiled and kneeled down in front of him unbuckling his belt, not breaking eye contact, you slid his jeans and boxers down exposing his throbbing member. You leaned down and licked the tip teasingly, you heard him groan "Y/N, don't tease me!" You felt his hips buck wanting more of your mouth. Finally, you took his entire length into your mouth earning a low moan from Bucky, you bobbed your head up and down, using your hand to pump the length you can't fit in your mouth. "Fuck, Doll you make me feel so good" You smirked against his skin, deepthroating and moaning against him sending vibrations causing him to grip the back of your head moving your head up and down. "I-I'm so close" You wanted to tease him a bit so you pulled back licking his tip a couple more times until he shoved your head down, causing you to gag a bit, but you continued sucking until he released his load into your mouth, groaning your name loudly before falling back on the bed. You swallowed and wiped the corners of your mouth. "Did that help?" He nodded while trying to steady his breathing "That was amazing" He let out breathlessly "Want me to return the favor?" You shook your head curling up to his chest "I wanted to help you, love. I'm okay." He wrapped his arm around you pulling you closer to his chest. "You helped me plenty thank you, Doll." He kissed the top of your head and slowly drifted to sleep.



A/N: Okay so I know I said this was probably going to be the last part, yeah I don't think so. I have more ideas now. :)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Masterlist

[hedgiwithapen]

Prompt: instead of whatever happens with gorillas and mad science, Jimmy meets Chewbacca in the woods (Intelligent! Alien!! Gorilla-ish!!!)

Bigfoot has a crossbow. That’s all Jimmy can comprehend. Bigfoot’s real (he KNEW IT!) and he has a crossbow. Which, on the one hand, would be great! He’s got proof, which he can rub in Steve’s very stupid face. On the other hand, the crossbow’s pointed at him, and Jimmy is very, very aware of how squishy he is.

He really, really wishes Clark was here. Not just for the moral support but the whole Superman thing? extremely useful for when Bigfoot holds a guy at crossbow-point. 

"Hey, Chewwie, you find any..." A voice from the underbrush trails off. The guy stares at Jimmy. Jimmy stares at the guy.  Bigfoot makes a noise that rattles Jimmy's actual teeth. 

"Yeah, fine, you were right, the planet is inhabited," the guy says. 

"...is Bigfoot an alien?" Jimmy blurts out.

Bigfoot--Chewwie?-- makes another noise and oh! ok! Teeth!

"He didn't mean to insult you," the guy says to Bigfoot--to bigfoot! they're communicating! This is the best day of Jimmy's LIFE. Even if it might be the last? "right? He's sensitive about his feet."

"Oh! No, no, not trying to offend you, Mr, uh... Squatch?"  

"Chewbacca," the guy says, adjusting his black vest, which lets Jimmy see the gun in his belt. Which, ok, somehow that makes this way more weird!

"Bless you."

"Huh? No, his name.  Who are you?"

"Uh....I'm Flamebird?" Jimmy tries. 

"Weird name. Alright, kid, is there a, I dunno, Refueling station around here? We're a little low on supplies because someone thought this was gonna be a fast trip."

This time, at least, the low growl is aimed at vest-guy. 

"ok, ok, that someone was me. Fine! you always have to be right."

"Like a gas station?" Jimmy asks. "Uh... there's one a couple miles down the road..."

"What's gas?" the guy says. "Never mind, it'll probably work."

Chewwie growls again.

"Could you maybe not point that at me?" Jimmy asks. "Seriously?"

"Well, stop staring at him. Bad manners."

"Says the guy who hasn't introduced himself," Jimmy mutters. 

"Han. Now, what direction?"

Jimmy frowns, trying to get his bearings. He takes a step. A thin wire breaks across his shin.

"Oh," he says, as a laser beam cuts through a tree just in front of him. "That's not good."

Chewwie turns the crossbow towards the robot (the ROBOT!!) shooting at them and before Jimmy can blink the thing is just. Gone. 

"Ah, kriff. More of these droids."

"More?" Jimmy squeaks. "Waitwaitwait, is your crossbow a laser? that is so COOL!"

"They've been after us all kriffing night. Which way's this road of yours?"

"Uhhhh, this way. C'mon."

Jimmy has time to see the guy take out two more robots with his laser-gun. The guy must see the stars in his eyes because when they stop running for a second, he starts talking again.

"It's a blaster. Haven't you ever seen a blaster, kid?"

"Flamebird," Jimmy says. "And not one that looks like that?"

"I'm not calling you that. What do you mean, it's the most common model on the market? You got your head in the sand?"

"No," Jimmy says, defensive. "So why are robots chasing you?"

"Droids," the guy corrects. " Might have... gently landed my ship into a bunch of them."

"...Your ship? like... space ship?" 

"What other kind of ship is there? I'm Han Solo, captain of the Millennium Falcon. You're welcome for saving your life." 

Jimmy frowns. He's got a head for names, especially of names of Weird Shit Most People Think Is Fake. He's never heard of either of those. "The what?"

Han groans. "I hate this planet."