#this is just such a crazy take considering how much page space is given to Arya's internal dialogue over the decisions she makes

[fromtheseventhhell]

Sansa being a more passive character than Arya doesn't mean she has less agency than her and her options not being "favorable" in your opinion doesn't mean she doesn't have a choice 🤷🏾‍♀️. If Arya leaving Westeros after the death of her mother + brother and being unable to reach Jon at the wall denotes agency, then that same logic means Sansa has plenty of options. She was able to move around the castle alone and meet with Dontos several times, she was able to meet with Margaery + her cousins and even go out hawking, and she had limited freedom to move around the castle. Arya was able to navigate her circumstances as a lowborn servant (basically a slave), and Sansa was in a much better position as a highborn hostage. She could've done a lot more and she just...didn't, but that doesn't mean she's "immobilized in her story".

She could've refused to meet with Dontos again. She could've left with the Hound when he offered, which would've given her an escape from KL and some level of protection (she herself reflects on this). She could've kept the information about the Tyrell's plan to herself, which would've meant that she could escape KL and avoid a marriage to Tyrion (going to Highgarden would've opened up a whole new set of options). She could've refused to wear the hairnet to the wedding since Dontos wasn't there to force her into doing so. She could've refused to go along with LF's lie about Lysa's death, especially considering there was an audience and she had to repeatedly lie. She could've listened to Maester Coleman and not insisted that SW be given Sweetsleep since LF wasn't around to insist she did. She could've revealed her identity to the remaining inhabitants of the Eyrie while LF wasn't there. She could've resisted following his plans of seducing Harry, or intentionally sabotaged her chances. She could've taken any number of opportunities where she wasn't in LF's presence to do something. All of these options have their pros and cons (as with every character's decisions), but to pretend she has no choice is ridiculous. Sansa not being savvy enough to navigate her situation and think more than two steps ahead isn't an issue of agency.

Asoiaf fandom be like: let's make fun of Arya and Jon for being snob while doing chores.

Meanwhile those two are the only Stark kids who have done labor in their lives and are okay with it. I dare to say that 95% of the rest POV characters would endlessly complain if they were in Arya and/or Jon's shoes.

[cyber-scribbles]

Exactly one (1) person in the notes of my Quick vs Mercury post asked about other new content in the 2015 reprint so that means I have an excuse to talk about it

Only Gigamix volume 3 includes any new pages (nearly 30 of them), Megamix 1 & 2 (the Maniax content was removed to condense the 3 volumes into 2) and Gigamix 1 & 2 only contain occasionally updated art

The first scene to be extended is Duo getting teleported to the Stardroids in space. Cossack shouts that Duo must destroy the ring because he is the only robot capable of defeating the Stardroids, while Terra confirms that Duo and the White Giant are still the same robot. However, he is much weaker in this new body. He then orders that Saturn put more energy into teleporting Duo, without grumbling, and sends him off with a laugh.

Next is Duo's fight with the Stardroids, which is to say there actually is a fight sequence instead of Duo immediately getting blown up. He calls them evil and they proclaim that they are undefeatable.

Next are the extra Bass scenes

Bass actually talks a little more before he takes the four crystals and runs. He recognizes that Rock couldn't beat the Stardroids because he didn't have an energy crystal. Cossack tries to warn that it's dangerous, but Bass points out that he supposedly made them, didn't he? Cossack reiterates that Ring and the others all went crazy, but Bass snaps at him for comparing him to those weaklings. He argues that there are so many of the Stardroids that he'll need more that just one crystal's worth of energy. Cossack concedes that he may have a point, but still. It would be better to share the crystals amongst themselves. Bass simply says that if they want to share, they can share the remaining ones and leave him to go alone, and blasts off before Cossack can warn that his body won't be able to handle the power.

Then there's Bass's actual ascent to space. The other Stardroids are shocked that there are so many strong robots on this planet, and Terra briefly considers how Mega Man has somehow managed to save this planet so many times before without the power they have. Bass calls them cowards for running away to space and Terra just mocks his attack for getting sucked in by Saturn's black hole. He correctly surmises that Duo must have given them these crystals, which means more of them will definitely be on the way.

Lastly, there's Bass's fight with Saturn. The new panels include Saturn acknowledging that Bass is the strongest of the robots they've fought, but it's not enough because his black hole will simply keep absorbing the attacks. I specifically want to note that right after that, Bass appears to essentially shout "You bastard! You son of a bitch! Let's fucking go!" Upon tearing the crystals out, he proclaims that he's done playing by the Stardroids' rules. Saturn is shocked he was even able to move with four crystals in him at once, but questions what he's accomplishing by tossing them aside. Bass asserts that even without the crystals, he would never lose.

I do not have enough image slots to include Quick or Rock's extended scenes here, so I will move on to those in the notes

[autisticandroids]

1/? So I was reading your stuff about the trap/the confession and I realized something. The thing that makes destiel stick in my brain completely separate from my other ships is that all the gay moments suck. Like spirk has that pure little “you make me believe in miracles,” a few are ‘I do things I hate for you because I enjoy your company’, so many others it’s about seeing the good in someone when no one else will. Destiel it’s all fucked up, but not like Hannigram.

2/? Hannigram makes the manipulative elements front and center, it’s about how fucked up their relationship is. (Which I don’t usually go for but have been know to look at in healthier ships.) With Destiel it’s almost insidious. Everything is a gay joke. The only reason they stare at each other so much is because Misha said the angel wouldn’t understand cultural norms then read fanfic like the next day.

3/? The only reason their relationship is Like That, paralleling another pairing, is not because they care about each other. No, they couldn’t do that! We get a comparison between them and Sam being corrupted by hell to do Satan’s bidding, because the writers never even considered that galvanizing a romantic storyline without changing things could mean that it would be read as romantic. They get insulated by other characters for their relationship, specially to poke fun at fans reading into it.

4/? If we watch compilations of gay moments devoid of context we might come away with warm fuzzy feelings, but every ‘married couple moment’ is a fight that will stop them communicating later down the line. The mixtape was given OFFSCREEN. The first I love you was done away with because Dean is not emotionally articulate/healthy enough to have said it. And by the end of the series he still isn’t! Cas gives two death bed confessions, both of them are basically made to make Dean feel guilty.

5/? Dean apologizes without saying the things that he was wrong. (The thing Cas needed to hear.) But we take every moment. We generally accept them as they come, and it’s only looking back that we see them with a dawning sense of horror. Every single one is gained by something. All of the ones that stick out in my mind, because everything on Supernatural is. The writers did not know the story they were telling, or had to change it halfway through. Even when you think they get it, they don’t.

6/? Even the ones who intentionally gave us those little nuggets of joy did not understand, or could not express that understanding in a way that shines through. We have these two characters who talk past each other for over a decade, not because they don’t care or are incapable of understanding. It’s because the writers thought that they were on the same page. Whole-heartedly believed that to be true. They wrote beautiful lines, created wonderful experiences, but they’re also just off-center.

7/? I often think about ships as growing in the cracks of a story, filling the space and patching in the holes. And it’s frustrating for writers to denounce ships because it’s like the audience has been given the pieces to a puzzle that’s halfway done, watching it be ‘completed’ and they leave two pieces off to the side. Or, worse, they don’t. We are given these two pieces of the same sky - maybe with one or two of separation - and they tell us one is the grass.

8/? They hand you these two puzzle puzzle pieces that should go together perfectly. (One craves the acceptance of a home that they can never go back to, while they other wants to build the one they never had. One wants to stay, while the other wants people to stop leaving.) They say that you’re crazy because you think the pieces go together. Then they stick one of them in the wrong place, ruin the picture and call it good. But that was lucky. Oh, you should see what they do with other one.

9/10 At least the first got to make it to the finish line. The second gets tossed to the side, in the trash, then burned! And you ask why they couldn’t be there at the end. You get told that they were never supposed to. You point at the story that THEY were telling and they double down. They think it’s disgusting, get offended, because you just pointed out all these faults in their story. Asked, “if it’s not gay then why?” And they couldn’t give you an answer. They don’t know!

10/10 They only believe that it cannot possibly be what you’re thinking. We have all of these absolutely wonderful instances where thinks slipped through the cracks and wove it all together. But you’re wrong about those too, really. They’re terrible, awful things that should not be looked at closely. If you observe Supernatural under a microscope it is not a host organism, it is the parasite. The secret good supernatural could never have existed because of their ineptitude. Unparalleled indeed.

So like, I’m the one that sent you… way too many asks. Which totally could’ve amounted to a whole ass meta, but I started by writing it in your ask box and my adhd ass wanted to finish the thought. Then the train left the station, and I basically started yelling in your vicinity (face). While you know I was not screaming at you, I would like to apologize if you were not prepared for the assault. I’m sorry for any emotional distress it might have caused, unless it results in more analysis. 🥺

so like the thing is. i don't even know what i can say to this. i'm just kind of in awe

[yunhostinyuyu]

bunny, bunny

pairing: friend!yunho x fem reader

gerne: pwp (im sorry), uni au, friends to friends with benefits

wc: 1.8k

synopsis: when your friend and you ended up in a bed in between each other’s thighs, your friendship was in danger of being disrupted. thankfully, you two came up with a solution…

warnings: cock warming, public play, exhibitionism, grinding, descriptions of past sex scenes, use of pet names, orgasm control? a little praise and a little degrading thrown in too because why not

authors note: this is not proof read and I wrote it at 1am please be kind <3

—

It was a summery afternoon, Yunho and you spend it per usual at the park near campus, studying for your final exams. The last rays of sunshine shining though the pine trees that spend shade to the entire space decked in greenery and flowers. It was especially quiet at this time, which was the reason you went there regularly. Yet the specific place in the very back spend and enormous amount of silence that the both of you enjoyed thoroughly.

But despite the breeze that fanned over your legs and arms, your insides were burning. As if someone poured hot chili sauce in your gut, focus not present and the notes you compared and tried to burn into your memory were wasted efforts. The burn inside churning your stomach in all shapes, trying to sit still - but to no avail.

Why? Because your friend right next to you railed you last weekend, and since then acted as if nothing had happened between the two of you. Never had you ever thought of him like that, but ever since it happened, you couldn’t pull your mind off it. It was a thought chain that disrupted every effort to study, reimagining the things that went down in his bed. But anytime you tried to hint at it or even talk about the incident, he avoided it, changed the topic, or even flat out pretended he didn’t know what you were referring to. And it was exhausting. You were even considering forgetting about the whole thing to continue on with your friendship and not to get the mush of sexual fantasies and your blatant neediness between that.

But still, you thought about it. You couldn’t not think about it. Never had anyone… fucked you the way he did.

“I love the way your boobs bounce, the way you clench around me like that- fuck, like that. You feel so snug around my cock, so good bunny. Just for me.”

Panting. Moaning. Maintaining your rhythm. Repeat. He stretched your walls so well, the constant dragging against your velvet walls make you go crazy. Orgasm pending as your legs got more tired, yet trying your best to continue riding your friend.

“Dumb little bunny, getting tired already? Don’t you want to cum?” He teased, seeing and feeling your struggle, releasing a incoherent chain of moans and complaints. His smirk still ever present on his lips, clearly enjoying himself. After a few more attempts on continuing to get your release on him, he rolled over to change your positions, moments before your thigh muscles would have given out.

“Bunny, answer when I ask you something. Do you wanna cum on my dick, huh? I guess you don’t want to then…” he provoked, knowing exactly what he was doing while slowing his movements. “Yun, no! No I wanna cum, please don’t stop, I’m begging you, please please please, I’m just a dumb little bunny. Make me cum, please Yunho. I need-“ he muffled your pleas with his giant hand, pushing his fingers against your tongue while snapping his hips harder then before, sounds of skin slapping filling the room. Crying as he gifted you with your well earned orgasm.

“Snap out of it, Y/N. You’re off somewhere in Dreamland.” his deep voice woke you from the depth of your naughty mind.

“Fuck- Yunho! Don’t startle me like that!” Playfully hitting his arm as you try to compose yourself again and at least pretend to study, so you can find an excuse to get home and take care of the blinding ache that was slowly bubbling up in between your legs.

Yunho got another book out of his backpack, flipping through the pages as he side eyed you again and again. “What did you think about? You’re been really distant today, I’m almost offended.” His voice sounded calm. And yes, he was right, you acted strange - but to your defense, you didn’t know what the late events made you two. Mind rattling without coming to a conclusion, you simply sighed and looked up from your study material. Rolling over from laying on your stomach, to now rest on your back and searching for Yunho’s attention.

“Yunho, I don’t - no I can’t anymore. You idiot make me crazy, all I can think about is you fucking me and I can’t get this image out of my head. And I can’t stand how you keep on pretending it never happened. I hate this so much. I cannot get over it, and you certainly don’t help with your whole spiel.” words hitting him square in the chest, and even while they came out more forceful than you imagined in your head, it seemed to work in your favor… well more or less…

“Bunny, bunny, if you want me to touch you, just tell me. I can tell by the way your thighs rub together…”

“That’s not what I mean Yunho. You’re doing it right now, again! You’re avoiding the issue at hand, and if you don’t man up I’ll leave until you grow a pair of balls.” You shake your head, denying your arousal pooling in favor of getting your point across. His features turned serious for a moment. Closing your eyes in frustration and hiding your face behind your fingers to avoid his stare boring through your skull. But before he said anything, you felt something along your legs-

“You’re too riled up. But let’s talk this though if it bothers you - which it clearly does. But before that-“ his fingers traveled up until they felt the damp material of your panties, moving it to the side to push his own digits in. Mentally cursing at your choice to wear a skirt today of all days. “- let’s relax. Please, just sit up.”

Trying your hardest to keep any signs of newly found ecstasy to yourself, one hand moving in and out of your hole, the other wrapping around your waist to pull you up from your lying position and bring you onto his lap. His chest pressing against your back, his mouth ghosting over the shell of your ear. Whispering, only for you to hear “good bunny, now-“ he pulled his fingers out of you, which contracted a short whine from your end, and despite trying your best to play coy, you failed. Feeling a grin on his face as he continued to work you up. One hand untucking his half-hard member out of his sweatpants. Your mind went blank as you felt him teasing your entrance, hands searching for him to stop.

“Yunho, we’re in public, someone will see us. Please-“ you whine, slowly loosing control of yourself and almost grinding against him, begging for stimulation. Without answering, he slipped inside effortlessly thanks to your arousal that drenched your core. Lewd moans leaving you as his grip found your hips again, holding you close to him, while not giving you a chance to fuck yourself on him.

At this point all the built up composure was thrown out the window and you tried your hardest to get any stimulation from him, which his death grip on you prevented. “Stop clenching, let’s talk.” He commented, not letting up on you. Brows furrowed in confusion while glancing back at him.

“I didn’t expect you to be this needy for me in public. It explains a lot. But in all seriousness…” he started, and despite everything, you could think clear thoughts again, his rough touch comforting you in a way. “Let’s talk it through.”

Deep sighs escaped while chewing on the inside of your cheek. “You know, I don’t know. It was all so awkward since we… you know, did it. I don’t want to loose our friendship but at the same time my mind is filled with you. But not my friend from Uni-Yunho, instead it’s just ‘bunny looks so good doing this and that’-Yunho.” You found it surprisingly easier to talk your mind without having to look into his eyes. But your voice was thin and could break off any moment to turn into whispers.

“I’m- I don’t know what to say, honestly. Did I ever make you feel uncomfortable, or push you to do things you’re not okay with?” He asked out of the blue, and you shook your head vehemently at his question. His grip on your hips let up, feeling that his hold may cause a few bruises, but that was the last of your concerns. “Never. If it did, we would have never gone that far. You know me, I’m quick to reject people when I feel iffy.”

A soft, breathy laugh left him and you felt his warm breath against your neck. “I know. Suppose I’m lucky then.” Hands coming back to lift you off his cock, and you turned around to face him. Slowly sinking back onto him and finding his hands once you bottomed out.

You both were nervous about this, but nonetheless you were determined to get this topic over with, to come to a conclusion. A proper result to see where you both stand at.

“I have a proposal then.“ he spoke, hands leaving yours again to hold you and make you sink onto his boner once again, this time moaning louder than the first time, and a heat crawled up your neck and cheeks. “What if we…“ he guided you up and down, your hands frantically grabbing onto his shirt to deal with the sudden stimulation. Tiny groans tumbling from his lips as well, “Let’s keep this casual. Make it our thing. We don’t have to get caught up with any feelings or attachments. We can simply keep going as friends, and when… you know. We get desperate, we can play with each other.” He suggested while keeping a steady rythym, bucking his hips ever so perfectly, hitting your spots better than anyone before him did.

“Are you suggesting that we- oh fuck! T-that we… become friends with benefits? Mmmh- you sure about this?” trying your hardest to talk properly without drawing too much attention to your situation. Even if any bystander wouldn’t think you were getting off in public, your skirt hiding both of your private regions perfectly. Your sounds and movements would prove anyone otherwise.

Yunho slowly but surely slacked off and stilled his movements while staying snug inside you again. “That’s what I’m saying. You think you can do that?”

In all honesty, this newly found confidence surprised you, but it suited him so well, ever since becoming intimate with him. And having this side of Yunho, alongside a normal friendship, a friendship you cherished and celebrated? Where he still was that funny, yet slightly clumsy and sarcastic person? It seemed like a jackpot.

Breathily, leaning your forehead against his, and nodding at his suggestion. “I can. I want to. I mean, I wanna try this thing with you. Please-“

Suddenly, lips slotting against your own sloppily. Hands touching you everywhere, heavy breathing and panting.

“Let’s take this back to the dorms then, bunny. Be good and I’ll make you cum as much as you want. Sounds good?”

—

[notanotherreidgirl]

Lesson Plans

Summary: Spencer’s TA helps him organize his class all while developing a crush on him, little do they know that he feels the same way

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: none? there’s some kissing

Word Count: 1434

A/N: I definitely need to go back and edit this one!! 

Dr. Spencer Reid was the most eccentric professor you ever had. 

He didn’t use any technology at all. Opting instead to handwrite his lesson plans on the blackboard in slanted chicken-scratch. He never got through his material anyway, easily getting caught up on tangents and explaining his own jokes. On the first day of class, he passed out an 8-page double-sided, single spaced syllabus. It was clear that he spent a lot of time on it but he had neglected to staple the pages together so no one walked out with more than 5 pages. Not that it really mattered, he barely followed the syllabus and half of it were recommendations for optional reading. 

The lecture hall was always full but for the people who weren’t auditing, the class was a bit of a mess. Despite the chaotic nature of the course, students kept signing up. How could they not? Dr. Reid was charming and effusive and he rounded everyone’s grades up to an A. When you took the class you were completely entranced by him but you couldn’t shake your frustration with the lack of organization. What was even worse was that most people just took his class for an easy A and hardly bothered learning most of the material. You couldn’t believe it - you had been dying to take Criminal Psychology and you poured your heart and soul into your assignments. When the end of the semester rolled around and TA applications opened, you applied without hesitation.

When Spencer saw that you had applied to be his TA, he very nearly hired you without reading any of the other applications. He refrained from referring to his obvious affection towards you as a crush - that epithet seemed too juvenile - but that’s exactly what it was. A giant schoolboy crush that had completely obliterated his ability to think. He had a tendency to ramble but it was exponentially worse this past semester with you sitting in the front row. 

It only took him one week to commit your routine to memory. Get to class 5 minutes early, sit in the front (5 seats from the left wall), drive him crazy for the whole lecture (chewing on pencil erasers and giving him small smiles when he made eye contact), have lunch at the cafe downstairs, then camp out at the library for a few hours. You were a fastidious creature, orderly and straightforward. It came through in your papers too. Well-constructed arguments that got to the point without unnecessary filler. He was embarrassed to admit that he made copies of your papers and reread them, taking note of your syntax and word choice. 

Your first order of business as his TA was to digitize his notes, taking pictures of the blackboard after class and making concise powerpoints that were sent out in friendly weekly emails. You also revamped his syllabus and held your own office hours since his were always well attended by adoring students who never seemed to ask questions about the course material. It was a lot of work but you could talk about the course material all day. You loved the class and you loved teaching your students which would’ve been just fine if you didn’t start to love something, or rather someone as well. 

The semester flew by and your feelings for Spencer only grew stronger with every day, with every evening you spent grading papers together, with every coffee wordlessly passed between you, with every lesson plan you outlined together. And now it was all coming to an end. You were standing in the doorway of his office making promises to stay in touch and thanking him for this experience while the voice in your head was practically begging you to say something. But you didn’t. What would you even say? How does one tell their boss that they are completely in love with them? What if he didn’t want anything to do with you afterwards. With these thoughts heavy on your mind, you finally turned to leave. 

“Wait, Y/N, I know what you did for me this semester.” Spencer realized that this was his last chance to say something, anything to let you know how he felt. His words came out in a rush, “I know that I’m not the best professor. I don’t follow the syllabus and my grading system is all over the place and I ramble. I’m even doing it now. I’m rambling. I know there are so many things I should change but -”

“No!” you immediately clamped a hand over your mouth but it was too late, your impassioned outburst had already escaped. To say you were mortified was the understatement of the century, you would have given anything to disappear right then. 

Spencer, on the other hand, was thoroughly amused. It was as if you stole all his anxious energy away. “What do you mean, no?”

“It’s nothing! I just - well, I just mean that you shouldn’t change anything. You’re perfect just the way you are.” Your eyes widened. How was it possible that every word out of your mouth made the situation exponentially worse? “Not perfect - no one’s perfect! I just mean that you're fine. Your class is fine!”

For a moment you recalled the transporters in Star Trek. Beam me up Scotty, you thought uselessly. 

Feeling exceptionally bold, Spencer pulled a chair up to his desk. “I think I know what you mean, darling. Why don’t you take a deep breath and have a seat?”

You had been considering making a run for it but your legs promptly turned to mush after he called you darling. He had pulled the chair to his side of the desk so you were sitting right in front of him less than 2 feet away. You were determined to get the situation under control so you took a deep breath before starting.

“Dr. Reid, I wouldn’t want you to change a single thing about your teaching style. I became your TA because I wanted other students to enjoy this class as much as I did. Everything I did this semester was so that you could keep teaching in the irregular, fun and inspiring way that you do. I didn’t mean to overstep and I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I think you’re not a good professor. Because you’re not. It’s the opposite.”

After finishing you nervously looked up at his face expecting admonishment only to be met with pure adoration in his honeyed brown eyes. He reached into your lap and took your hands in his. You had expected the hands of an FBI agent to be hard, weathered from chasing down killers but his were soft and he held you so carefully like he was afraid you’d pull away. 

“Thank you” he whispered. He brought your hands to his lips and you had to press your feet into the ground to keep from floating away. “I wanted to say thank you for typing up comprehensible notes and replying to every email and making sure there’s always sugar by the coffee machine and listening to what I have to say and for letting me be myself”

Your breath hitched, you hadn’t realized that he’d noticed everything you’d been doing in the background. You squirmed in your seat, taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. Could he see right through you? 

“It’s really nothing, Dr. Reid” you murmured. 

“No, it's not,” he leaned in closer, so close you could feel his hot breath on your neck and you were sure he could hear the drumbeat of your heart. “Not everyone is willing to be patient with me and even fewer go out of their way to make things easier or better without trying to change who I am. I know I’m a difficult person but you don’t make me feel that way. I’m beyond lucky to have you.”

He paused before adding, “That is, if you’d have me?”

Whatever was left of your self-restraint disintegrated when you pressed your lips to his. You laughed into his mouth, joy bubbling from your lips and filling Spencer with an incredible warmth. He smiled and pulled you into his lap, “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, yes, yes” you punctuated each affirmation with a kiss to his nose, his cheeks, his temples. You wanted to tell him that he wasn’t difficult at all. That he was charming and capable and lovely but there would be plenty of time for that. For now, you held him tight and you didn’t have any intention of letting go.

[sidespromptblog]

What to Do?: Chapter 3

One, Two, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?

Warmings: General Angst and Food Mention.

Word Count: 1,820

The smells of cooking food permeated the kitchen as Virgil nervously slunk into the kitchen, his eyes darted around, catching a glimpse of Roman’s foot tapping up and down as he bounced his leg. He could feel the anxiety pouring out of the creative side like a faucet about to overflow a sink, and ordinarily he would have snapped at Roman to reign it in with the last thing he wanted to deal with was yet another person’s anxieties… but not this time. This time he could understand Roman’s fears, as they aligned with much of his own. 

Moving over to the dining table, he perched himself on top, giving Roman more occasional glances. 

“Are you okay?” He mumbled, detesting the way that he felt himself softening at the heartbroken expression on Roman’s face. He had cared for sure… but he also hated the fact that he cared so much for this, if he had cared less then all of this would have hurt much less than it currently was. “How’s Pat?” 

Virgil felt his heart sink into his stomach at the sight of Roman’s expression breaking apart even further. 

He hated this so much. 

Roughly Roman ran his hand over his face, as if he was attempting to wipe away tears before they could even be seen. “I’m… not okay.” He honestly said, and looking towards the kitchen he couldn’t help but to add on. “And I don’t think Patton’s much better, I think he was crying all night...” A part of him couldn’t help but to be resentful towards Logan for all of this, but another part of him… the part of him that he was desperately trying to squish down before it could rise back up… actually felt oddly proud of Logan for doing this. 

It felt… right, almost. 

But it didn’t make it hurt any less, the distance that Logan was obviously trying to put between all of them. He had thought that they were closer than that, but then again… He wasn’t all that certain that he had even been acting like a friend lately, sure he had been focused on getting Thomas with the man of his dreams, and sure he had been neglecting the others a little. But he was certain that Logan would’ve been fine on his own for a little while, it was the entire reason that he had given Logan access to the imagination to begin with. So that if he needed to blow off some steam, or just relax he could easily do so without him needing to be there to make him relax. 

But… 

He’d been wrong. 

Again. 

Virgil huffed, dragging Roman’s attention away from himself and back to the anxious side sitting beside him. He looked… well honestly he looked okay-ish. There were tiny tell-tale signs that Virgil hadn’t slept as well as he was trying to portray, the caked on eyeshadow covering up dark circles and the even more caked on foundation was something that Roman could almost too easily see through. But he didn’t look like he’d be swept away, not like Patton did. And he didn’t look like he was about to break apart into a million pieces, at least not like Roman did. Virgil looked… weary but strong, like an old piece of rebar poking out of concrete that refused to be weathered down by anything. 

Roman felt more than a little jealous of Virgil's strength, or maybe it was just his denial that he wished he could fall back into...  

Either way, he could only sit silently as Patton came into the dining room sniffling as he carried the plates of food for them to eat. It was almost painful to watch him consider and then reconsider putting a plate out for Logan, just to immediately go back into the kitchen and grab a plate for the logical side even though he had yet to show up. 

“Just in case…” Patton softly mumbled, putting the plate down so carefully that one might have thought that it would break at the softest breeze. “You never know…” 

They didn’t know, there was no telling if Logan would even want to eat with them. They hadn’t heard anything from him since he’d sunk out, and they’d heard even less from him that night. When Virgil usually heard Logan going crazy on his various projects during the night, now he heard absolutely nothing. He had no idea if Logan had merely just gone to bed early, or if he just… wasn’t in his room at all. 

For a long moment, they all sat there. Their plates filled with the food that Patton had prepared for them, with one empty seat at the end of the table. And for that moment they sat there not touching a single thing on their plates, unsure if they should actually eat or not. 

Roman had picked up his fork, but just half-heartedly poked at his food. While Patton just morosely looked back at his food, a self-pitying look on his face as his hands laid limpy on the table not making a single movement to begin eating. Virgil taking one look around at the two sides he stuck with, only sighed wanting to do something to break the uneasy tension in everyone but not having nearly enough gusto to do so. That was something that would require energy from him, and that alone was something that he really didn’t have enough of right now. So he resigned himself to sit in silence, and to eat a meal that he wasn’t even sure that he wanted anymore. 

When he heard the footsteps. 

Patton’s head snapped up so fast Virgil was sure that he heard something crack, and a hopeful look blossomed across the moral side’s face. Like a flower seeing the light of the sun for the first time, a light flourished in his eyes that almost instinctively made Virgil want to look away or to playfully curl his lip at how damn happy Patton looked in that moment as Logan came down the stairs his eyes fixed onto a book he was reading. Maybe everything would be okay, if Logan was still willing to eat with them, then perhaps they could slowly fix things over with him. Perhaps all wasn’t lost, and-

And just like that the look of happiness was gone from Patton’s face. 

Logan had… Brought his own food.

With no more than a second of hope being dashed from them, the uneasy silence was back. Only this time, with Logan finally sitting amongst them, they all finally began to eat. 

The moment seemed to stretch on, even though they all knew that it really hadn’t been that long to begin with. 

 Logan hasn’t looked at them once, as he took quick bites from his sandwich while his eyes remained glued to the pages of his book. Every now and then, his phone buzzes and then and only then does Logan look away from his book, shifting his attention to his phone for short bursts of time. It was a timer, that much Virgil could glean from the screen of his phone reflected in Logan’s glasses, much more than that… it was a reminder set to go off every ten minutes for thirty minutes. Like.. like he was nothing more than some person at work who had a thirty minute break in between doing his work. 

Virgil had felt awfully betrayed when that realization had finally smacked him across the face, to the point where he was honestly unsure if he wanted to even tell the Roman or Patton. The both of them were taking Logan’s new… whatever this was, pretty hard. While he may have been annoyed with both Patton and Roman in the past, it truthfully hurt him an awful lot to see Patton crying as much as he was, and to see Roman blaming himself the way that he was. A part of him wanted to tell them that it wasn’t their fault, but he knew that they wouldn’t accept it. Not with Logan the way he was now, and especially with no end in sight. 

It certainly seemed like this was going to carry on for some time, and how long… Virgil didn’t know. 

He didn’t want to consider that this could possibly go on forever. 

Tearing his eyes away from Logan, he tried to drown himself in the food that he had on his plate. But even then, with the empty space that seemed to be Logan, the food felt like tasteless mush in his mouth. He could only stand a few more bites, before the texture of it forced him to put his fork down, calling it quits for this meal at least. 

Looking up he could see Patton and Roman glancing at one another, desperately trying to convey who exactly should try to talk to Logan while he was still here. But their useless glances, and suggested shoulder shrugs did less than nothing. 

It was almost painful to watch. 

It only became that much more painful as Logan stood up, clapping his book closed before dusting himself free from invisible crumbs. Not a single glance was given to them as Patton and Roman each tried to convey with their eyes who should be the one to talk to Logan, and as he took a quick glance to his watch Roman had opened his mouth. 

Looking at Logan’s face, and the professional detachment on it, Roman found himself faltering. There were no words to be had from him, or at least none that he could think that would help this problem in any kind of way. 

Logan sank down, without a word back to them and Roman’s mouth snapped shut. 

There wasn’t any anger to be thrown at him though, Patton himself felt largely the same way. What could he say? What could he do that would make Logan reconsider, let alone begin to trust them again? He could hardly even ask for such a thing, he’d hurt all of them more times than he cared to admit in the past couple of weeks. And whether he liked it or not, he had done something to obliterate Logan’s trust and his love for him. To the point where he couldn’t call Logan his own name to his face, he could only do so personally in his own head as if that would get the relationship they once had back.  

Perhaps he didn’t deserve it…

But it didn’t make him, or any of them any less concerned for Logan. 

Patton’s mouth felt as dry as the sand on a beach, “I…” He paused, as his heart squeezed painfully in his chest. “I don’t know what I can do to fix this…” He sorrowfully whispered, “I’m sorry…” 

Neither Virgil nor Roman could say anything in return.

They didn’t know how to fix it either. 

[bokunosimpfiction]

Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3

A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ

Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)

Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire​  so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)

             You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.

             Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.

             Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.

             And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.

             The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.

             The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.

             Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”

             You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).

             Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.

             And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.

             You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.

             This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.

             She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.

             The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.

             Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.

             “Karl.”

             “Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.

             “Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”

             He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.

             Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!

             “You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.

             “Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”

             “You sure about that?” You quip back.

             “You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”

             “Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”

             “It’s Karl Heisenberg!”

             “Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.

             He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.

             He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”

             “No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.

             “You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”

             You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.

             He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”

             You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.

             “Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“

             You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.

             “Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”

             “Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip: Pt 43 - Crazy

You’d been with your share of women who liked rough sex - Seulgi, Chaeyoung, occasionally Momo and Seolhyun. But those girls had always been interested in kinks that were at least somewhat consistent with their personalities. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Seulgi was into rough, occasionally painful sex; likewise, Chaeyoung’s preference for zip ties and name calling didn’t strike you as being out of character with the type of person she was outside of the bedroom.

Miyawaki Sakura was either lazy and airheaded or intense and intimidating, depending on what she was doing. Before you were made aware of this new facet of Sakura’s personality you’d only seen such duality before in Sana; but Sana’s personality swings didn’t surprise you like Sakura’s did, nor was the difference between her two poles nearly as extreme as that of the Japanese police officer.

Sakura was altogether different from those girls. She was two sides of the same constantly flipping coin, it seemed. At the moment you were finding out that this duality extended to her sexual pursuits, where she flipped between being an overly friendly, sugary sweet girl to a woman with very specific, very unique kinks on a minute-by-minute basis.

“I’m so sorry about earlier,” she states, the tone in her voice sounding much more pleasant than earlier in the day, especially as it echoed against the cold shower tiles. “I was in the middle of re-reading the Fate series. Did you know the third movie is coming out this summer? I’m sooo looking forward to it. Are you familiar with the Fate series?”

Speaking proved exceedingly difficult given the ball gag in your mouth, and so you settled for nodding.

“She’s going away for awhile, don’t you worry.”

“She better be,” you answer. “I just hope she leads us to the other three members of Blackpink before they lock her up - or that Canadian officer takes her overseas. Did you have a chat with Officer Miyawaki about this?”

“I’ve told her we want time with Rose before she’s extradited and Officer Miyawaki has promised to raise the issue with her superiors, but she hasn’t quite gotten around to it yet,” Nayeon answers.

You both peer into the interrogation room through the one-way glass. On one side of the table sits Rose, her head in her hands. In her prisoner’s jumpsuit and messy hair, she looked outright miserable - a far cry from the dolled up look she sported at the event two days prior. Gone is the haughty, arrogant air that she wore about her like perfume - now she looked small, afraid, almost as if the cold reality of what was about to happen to her had just recently set in.

She hadn’t said a word since she stepped into the room. The young, nervous looking YG-appointed lawyer seated next to her rebuffed all of the questions directed to her client by telling her that she didn’t have to answer anything, as was her right. Rose’s body language, though, told you all you needed to know about her state of mind.

On the other side of the table are Jihyo and Somi Douma, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer who had arrested Rose at the event. Both of them are placing piece after piece of evidence onto the table in an attempt to get something out of the Blackpink member - to no avail so far, thanks to her lawyer. The looks of frustration on the two young officers has been steadily building, but it is tempered somewhat by the fact that much of the evidence was simply indisputable. Rose’s silence today would do nothing to keep her from spending a lot of time behind bars when the time came.

The other two occupants of the room, sitting in a smaller table by the exit, are Mina and Officer Miyawaki. The former is diligently jotting down notes from the meeting into an iPad, the latter seemingly engaged in something important on her phone - but given her known predisposition for playing video games on the job and the fact that her phone was horizontal, you decided she was likely playing a game.

“Sakura was super intense at the event,” Nayeon says, as if reading your thoughts regarding the young Japanese police officer. “When she showed up with Jihyo and Somi to arrest Rose, she had her game face on. It was almost scary. She wanted to see layouts of the building, possible exits and escape routes, dossiers on who might be there and who they might be with. She looked ready to take down every bad guy in the entire restaurant, all on her own.”

“I saw,” you agree. “She walked in there like she owned the place. Rose’s bodyguard tried to stop her, but whatever she said to him made him look like a whipped dog afterward. She destroyed that guy.”

“And now here she is at a major interrogation involving multiple international parties and she’s on her phone playing Among Us,” Nayeon scoffs. “It’s like she has an on and off switch when it comes to her job. I don’t get it. To be honest, I find it a little odd that the precinct would bury someone with her on-site skills in the record keeping department and not out in the field walking a beat.”

You take a moment to consider Nayeon’s point. She was right; surely the Tokyo PD could make better use of Sakura by constantly keeping her in the field, where she clearly excelled, instead of the records department where she was buried under paperwork she had little interest in. There had to be a reason behind it all, but you currently had more pressing issues on your mind than the Japanese liaison officer’s career prospects.

“We need to make sure she gets us that time with Rose. Preferably without her lawyer present.”

“That would be against the rules,” Nayeon says, hesitantly. She knew what you were implying and while she knew you weren’t going to hurt Rose or do anything stupid, she felt she had to tell you anyway out of obligation.

“There’s nothing illegal about me having a chat with a lovely young Australian woman I met at an event a few nights ago,” you reply with a sly smile.

Nayeon smirks, but understands your implication. “I’ll remind Officer Miyawaki,” she says.

In the room, Sakura lets out a sigh, rolling her eyes back into her head - her spaceman was likely just bitten in half by an impostor. Next to her, Mina frowns and shakes her head, a look of plain disapproval on her face.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you say. “I’ll remind her myself.”

---

It didn’t take long to find Sakura later that day. She was absent from her desk, but a nearby colleague told you she was on her lunch hour - even though at that point it was nearly three in the afternoon. While your time with Nayeon and Jihyo had informed you that law enforcement officers saw lunch breaks as a rare luxury, you also knew that Sakura didn’t conform to the usual expectations of this particular line of work. With your limited Japanese and a healthy amount of hand gestures, you were able to ascertain from her colleague that she usually took her lunch breaks on the roof of the building.

The precinct proved to be a little bit of a maze, but you eventually found your way to the roof, which, like many buildings in Asia, was open to access and was often used as a kind of recreational space for the building’s inhabitants. After your time inside the cramped interior of the building you were happy to be outside again, enjoying the fresh air and the sunny, crisp winter afternoon.

Sitting on a bench in one of the corners of the space was Sakura, legs crossed, her nose buried in what looked like a manga. The small pile of convenience store sandwich containers and empty candy wrappers that occupied the rest of the bench confirmed that she was indeed on her lunch break. The volume of the trash, however, implied she’d been there awhile, leading you to wonder just how long her lunch “hours” usually lasted.

“Officer Miyawaki,” you say as you approach her, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if-”

You are stopped mid-sentence by a raised finger. Without taking her attention from the manga, Sakura reaches for a half-full bottle of Pocari Sweat next to her on the bench, which she brings to her mouth to take a sip. Eyes working quickly, she finishes the page she was reading before turning the page and devouring that one as well. With brows furrowed and eyes narrowed with concentration, there is a clear look of complete and utter intensity on her face that you’d seen only once before - when she was confronting Rose’s bodyguard and putting him in his place. 

When you’d first been introduced to Miyawaki Sakura you’d wondered just how she had managed to keep her job given her obvious laziness and what seemed to be an utter lack of interest in her duties - or even in maintaining the false appearance of an interest. But her role in the events of two nights prior, and the seriousness with which she carried herself while on-site, answered that question for you. It became clear that her superiors kept her around because when the chips were down and the game was on, she could put on a game face that almost scared you with its intensity. When that happened, she was almost a different person entirely.

The question then became why her superiors had assigned her to the record keeping department. Was it a demotion? Did they think she was too unstable or unreliable for field work? There had to be a reason. 

She goes on for three more pages, consuming the art and text within the manga like they were some sort of life-giving energy source that she could not go a moment more without. You are left to stand there, awkwardly, a little taken aback by the speed and ease at which she had silenced you - but unconsciously, a little afraid of what might happen if you’d insisted on interrupting her reading.

Finally, after reaching what seemed to be a chapter’s conclusion or some other boundary within the manga, she retrieves a bookmark from her bench and marks her place before finally acknowledging your presence.

“Yes?” she says, a look of undisguised annoyance on her otherwise soft, adorable features.

“I, well, I was… um, hoping we could have a quick moment of your time, Officer Miyawaki,” you answer, suddenly unsure of your words, your tongue having turned into stone in your mouth. You’d expected a fast and easy chat - you usually had no problems charming your share of pretty young women - but your resolve had faltered unexpectedly under the piercing gaze of the young officer.

“About?” she asks, plainly, even though you knew what you wanted to talk about must have been obvious to her. What else could it have been, if not Rose? Did she just want to hear you ask for something? Did she want to hear you beg and grovel?

“About the girl, uh, the woman that Officer Dou- I mean, you, you placed in your custody a couple of nights ago,” you answer. 

“Yes, and, what about her?”

“I was hoping I could have a chat- er, maybe, some time, with her. Alone, before she, they, she’s, well... taken away.”

“And what would you want to speak to her about?”

“Well, you see, um…. we’re kind of after her colleagues - three of them. They’re in this team, er, corporate espionage group - they’re called Blackpink. I, well, me, my team and I, we were hoping she could lead us to the other three.”

Sakura takes a moment to weigh your request, her large, deep eyes boring into yours. You were a little ashamed to admit you were faltering a little bit under the intensity of her gaze. While you were sure her current demeanor was borne from you so rudely interrupting her reading and not from any malicious intent, it did little to keep you from withering under her look.

Eventually Sakura’s eyes leave you, and you find yourself releasing an inward sigh of relief to be free of her gaze. 

“I can arrange something,” she says as she opens her manga again. “But it will cost you. Helping you and that foreign officer during that arrest resulted in a lot of extra paperwork for me.”

You are about to say something about her job and the amount of work she actually had to do, especially given the fact that she was in the middle of what seemed to be a three hour lunch break, but an unconscious fear of being put under her gaze once more meant that your response died in your throat.

“What exactly… can I do f-for you, Officer Miyawaki?”

“Sakura is fine,” she says under her breath as she finds her place in her manga. “Meet me in the precinct showers in two hours. Cancel any appointments you may have this afternoon.”

You are left a little stunned by her demand, and what it might have meant. The possibilities run through your mind at a million miles an hour; what did she mean-

“You can leave,” Sakura states, and not wanting to risk her ire by lingering any longer, you quickly turn and leave.

---

You’d been with your share of women who liked rough sex - Seulgi, Chaeyoung, occasionally Momo and Seolhyun. But those girls had always been interested in kinks that were at least somewhat consistent with their personalities. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Seulgi was into rough, occasionally painful sex; likewise, Chaeyoung’s preference for zip ties and name calling didn’t strike you as being out of character with the type of person she was outside of the bedroom.

Miyawaki Sakura was either lazy and airheaded or intense and intimidating, depending on what she was doing. Before you were made aware of this new facet of Sakura’s personality you’d only seen such duality before in Sana; but Sana’s personality swings didn’t surprise you like Sakura’s did, nor was the difference between her two poles nearly as extreme as that of the Japanese police officer.

Sakura was altogether different from those girls. She was two sides of the same constantly flipping coin, it seemed. At the moment you were finding out that this duality extended to her sexual pursuits, where she flipped between being an overly friendly, sugary sweet girl to a woman with very specific, very unique kinks on a minute-by-minute basis.

“I’m so sorry about earlier,” she states, the tone in her voice sounding much more pleasant than earlier in the day, especially as it echoed against the cold shower tiles. “I was in the middle of re-reading the Fate series. Did you know the third movie is coming out this summer? I’m sooo looking forward to it. Are you familiar with the Fate series?”

Speaking proved exceedingly difficult given the ball gag in your mouth, and so you settled for nodding.

“Ah, that’s good!” Sakura exclaims, “I’m such a big fan. I totally ship Shirou and Saber, although I’m also a fan of Shirou and Sakura - I bet you can guess why! I like both couples, though; it really depends on what mood I’m in! Sometimes I- whoops, is that too tight for you?”

It was. The girl knew how to tie a neat, tight knot (which itself raised several questions) and the thick nylon rope dug painfully into your wrists as she tied them behind your back, but you gave your head a shake nonetheless. The black cloth blindfold she’d tied around your head was similarly a little too tight for comfort and was beginning to give you a headache - not that you were willing, or even able, to tell Sakura as such.

Even if you could speak, you weren’t sure you would stop her from proceeding. You were equal parts terrified and aroused by the sharp, unexpected turn of events this afternoon had taken, but the thought of stopping the young woman hadn’t yet occurred to you.

“Good, I don’t want to hurt you. Anyway, yeah, I’m sorry if I came off rude this afternoon. I just don’t like to be interrupted during my lunch hour. That’s when I get all my reading done! Because the rest of the day I’m so busy with work, you see. Anyway… you’re all set!”

You obviously couldn’t see her through the blindfold, but the loud click-clack of Sakura’s high-heeled shoes against the shower tiles tell you she has stepped in front of you. The next few moments of silence provide no audible clue to tell you what she is doing, but you knew she was likely giving you a good long look from head to toe, as if enjoying the sight of you sitting on a stool, gagged, bound, and blindfolded.

“It’s time to begin, I think. Are you ready?” 

Her tone reminded you a little bit of any of a hundred anime voice actors, particularly those that voiced the sugary sweet and cute characters. And Sakura was nothing if not cute, although she also seemed to have a bit of a crazy side to her - a side it seemed you were about to get to know intimately, whether you were ready for it or not.

You nod, because there wasn’t much else you could do.

“Good! Let’s start!” she says, sounding a bit like an announcer for a game that involved Italian plumbers and dragon/turtle hybrids racing go-karts - and not like she was about to engage in a sexual act with very particular, very specific kinks.

So when she straddles you on the stool, her long, thin legs suddenly on either side of your waist and her small frame atop your lap, you were a little unsure about how to react to the juxtaposition between her tone and her actions. With other women you would have enjoyed the weight of her body on top of yours and the promise of impending pleasure. But with Sakura you were a little hesitant - and as much as you hated to admit it, almost a little afraid.

“So as I mentioned earlier, I’d be happy to set up a meeting with you and that Australian chick,” she says, her voice dripping with sugar even as you feel her trace random patterns with her fingertip on your jawline and chin. “But I’ll need to get something out of it.”

You are unable to manage anything more than a muffled groan, and so you settle for nodding your head once more.

“Good.”

Sakura’s hand drifts lower, her fingertip never breaking contact with you as it drifts down your neck and chest, eventually reaching the buckle of the jeans you wore. Her fingers work quickly, and before you know it she has your button undone and the zipper lowered, your quickly hardening shaft aching for its impending release from its cotton prison.

“Oh! You are quite eager for us to begin, I see.”

You nod.

“Well then, let’s see what you’re hiding under here.”

Sakura’s tone continues to be that of a cute, sweet girl. Her actions, as she frees your nearly fully hardened shaft from your boxers, are altogether the opposite.

You feel the breath leave your lungs in a rush as she grasps your cock in her small, dainty little hands for the first time and gives it a few small, exploratory pumps. It would have been utterly arousing at any other time. But now, wrists bound behind you and with your eyes and mouth rendered useless, it almost felt like your sense of touch was heightened - and it felt utterly sublime. It wasn’t long before you the Japanese police officer had brought you to full, aching stiffness.

“I see now why your team is full of those women,” she observes, a slight hint of edge appearing in her tone. “I bet they love taking turns being filled with this.”

“Mmmghmm,” you answer.

“What’s that? You fuck them on a daily basis? I bet you pump their thirsty mouths and wet little pussies just full of your cum on the regular, don’t you? Maybe those tight little asses too?”

“Yughhhm.”

“I bet they love it, too, don’t they? I bet you have them all bent to your will like the obedient, needy little fucktoys that they are. Is that right?”

“Mmmahghg.”

“I knew it. I knew all of those girls were filthy little sluts the second I saw them.”

To hear such filth come out of Sakura’s mouth - out of a girl whom you’d pegged as being adorable and cute if a little airheaded and lazy - was more than a little bewildering. Each of her words dripped with sweet sugar tone even if the actual content of her words was dirty and nasty. Two sides of the same coin. Two faces of the same girl.

“Well, I think it’s time for us to play a game. Do you want to play a game?”

For a second you are frozen as a shiver of fear crawls up your spine - you’d seen enough horror movies to know that nothing good ever followed that question. But you had to admit that it both frightened and aroused you. Part of you wanted to submit to her every whim, and part of you suddenly wanted to run away as quickly as you could. 

You nod.

“Good! I’m happy. Let’s lay down the rules. Hmmm… well, there’s actually only two! Are you ready for them? Are you paying attention?”

It was a little difficult to do so, truth be told. She hadn’t stopped pumping your cock, at an almost lazy pace, with her slender, soft hands. She had begun to squeeze on the downstroke and loosen on the upstroke, causing a delicious little jolt of pleasure to shoot right to your brain every few seconds.

You nod.

“Okay! Rule number one - every time you make me cum, I remove one item of your choice: your blindfold, your gag, or the ties at your wrists. How much time I give you with the Australian girl depends on how good you fuck, I guess! I’ll make the judgement at the end. Rule number two - you don’t get to say anything aside from a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’ Pretty simple, huh? You understand the rules, right?”

Despite laying down the ground rules for what would likely be a filthy sexual act, Sakura sounds a bit like a voice actor reading the script to the tutorial level of a Mario Party game. The prospect of regaining your ability to see, touch and taste her was appealing, and with the ball gag filling your mouth you couldn’t exactly voice any objections to her rules even if you had any.

You nod.

“Good! Then let’s begin!”

Without giving you much time to ready yourself, Sakura presses her body forward on your lap - and almost immediately you feel the wet heat of her pussy pressed against the base of your shaft.

Before she put the blindfold on you, the police officer had been wearing a short blue skirt and black heels along with the blue blouse that formed her uniform. Had she removed her panties somewhere along the way? Was she ever wearing panties at all?

Your brain had little time or bandwidth to answer those questions - not as Miyawaki Sakura began to grind herself against the underside of your cock, her hips swirling up and down, finding and trapping your shaft between the splayed lips of her pussy and moving, slowly at first, up and down its length. She is absolutely dripping. Her flesh is hot and warm against your cock. Were your mouth not gagged, you would have let out a long, wordless moan - but it escapes your throat as a wet, guttural sound instead.

Sakura, her own mouth unbound, lets the first outward sign of her arousal escape her lips in a long, drawn-out gasp. The entire process - binding you, teasing you, explaining her rules to you - must have turned her on immensely. The slick, warm juices that coated your cock in a thick, glistening layer with each grind of her hips were clear indication of how turned on she was. You found yourself impressed that she was able to hide her need for so long behind her sickly sweet tone.

“Mmmm, that feels so good!” she gasps. “Mmm, you’re so big, and you’re not even inside me yet!”

You nod.

And so for a few delicious minutes you are content to let the small Japanese girl grind herself harder and harder against your cock, her slick, hot pussy pressed against the underside of your shaft, sliding up and down, up and down, up and down. The small shower room reverberates with the soft squeaking of your stool on the tiles, and the soft, pleasant moans of pleasure that leave Sakura’s throat.

“Mmm, fuck, I’m gonna cum already, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so quickly, mmmmm, your cock is so hard! Do you like the feel of my pussy? The feel of my clit on your cock? Hmmm? Do you want to be inside me?”

You nod. 

You are surprised by how quickly she was coming to her first orgasm, even if the heat emanating from her splayed pussy lips as she grinds them against you, combined with the sheer amount of the juices that were now running down your balls, clearly indicated how needy and wanton she was even before she first touched you.

“D-Do you want me… oh, fuck… do you want me to-to cum all over your hard cock?”

You nod.

Sakura’s response is to orgasm. 

You’d been with plenty of women before, witnessed the many forms of the female orgasm and the differences in the bodies of each woman when she finally reaches her peak. Each was unique. But even given that fact, you knew that no other woman on Earth orgasmed like Miyawaki Sakura did.

She felt a little bit like she was being jolted with electricity - every fibre of her being quivered and shook like she had a thousand volts coursing through her veins. It was almost unnerving, in a way, and from the way her small body trembled atop yours you were worried that she had hurt herself somehow. 

Even the way she orgasmed was far from the norm. The more you knew about Miyawaki Sakura, the more and more you were frightened of her. 

But the same things that frightened you also aroused you.

It seems to last forever, her orgasm. When her body finally winds down, the loud breaths that leave her throat and the fact that she has slumped forward onto your chest imply that she is somewhat drained by the experience.

“That was pretty good!” Sakura exclaims once she has regained her energy, sounding once more like she were some sort of video game announcer. “As per the rules of our game, you get to remove one item. What would you like it to be?”

Your options run though your head, each with their own merits. You would’ve loved to finally lay your hands on the young woman, and the thought of watching her cum obviously appealed to you, but the opportunity to taste her won out.

“Mowwffth,” you manage to mumble. 

“Your mouth? You want to get rid of the gag? Are you sure?” Sakura asks, sounding the way a video game does when you decide to overwrite a game save and it wants you to be sure of your decision.

You nod.

“Okay! Away it goes!”

Sakura reaches behind your head and you feel the ball gag loosen before she rips it none-too-gently from your mouth. A drip of saliva spills from your mouth - one that Sakura is quick to lick off your chin with her tongue.

Her tongue, feeling long and particularly flexible, traces a path up your chin until it finds your lips. She crushes your lips with hers in a torrid, passionate kiss that had little affection but plenty of need, her hands quickly reaching behind your blindfolded head and pressing your head against hers as she sticks her tongue as far into your mouth as she could. Your tongue wrestles with hers, but she quickly gains the upper hand, and it is all you can do to sit there and submit to letting the young woman explore your mouth at her whim.

When she finally tears her lips from yours she lets out a satisfied sigh.

“Mmmm, that was a good choice. You’re a good kisser! And it will definitely help you when it comes to the next way you’re going to make me cum. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you say, finally happy to be able to speak.

“Good. Get ready!”

Sakura climbs off your lap, and you lament the loss of her warm body for a split second - until you hear the snap of her foot meeting the stool you were sitting on, followed by a sharp thud of your butt hitting the floor as she kicks the stool out from under you.

You are about to groan in pain at your hard, unexpected landing, about to protest at the way she was treating you - when you hear Sakura step over your body, her crotch just inches from your face. She must have been lifting her skirt to get it out of the way, because when she presses herself against you, you find yourself face to face with her pussy.

There was no doubt in your mind now. Miyawaki Sakura was crazy.

But you weren’t in a position to complain, not with the girl’s juicy, slick, hot pussy suddenly and fiercely pressed against your face, her splayed lips immediately smearing your nose, lips and chin with her juices. By instinct your tongue darts out, almost like a defensive measure. You begin to lick her slowly, hesitantly, still caught a little wrong footed by her ridiculous aggressiveness - but Sakura was having none of that, and she quickly grasps the back of your scalp with one hand and presses it against her warm, wet folds.

“You can do better than that,” she says, her tone still that of the video game announcer, as though she were encouraging a kart racer who had fallen behind. “Eat my pussy like the hungry little fucktoy you are.”

You follow her orders, as much out of fear of upsetting her as the need to finally have your fill of the needy young woman’s body. You start by giving her long, slow licks from the bottom of her pussy to the top, ensuring to add a little swirl of the tip of your tongue around her engorged clit as  you reach it. Sakura moans in pleasure as you drink of her, enjoying the pleasant, sweet bitterness of the girl’s plentiful juices on your tongue.

When you decide that the steadily rising volume of her moans and gasps, enhanced by the echoing off the shower room’s tiled walls, has reached a high point, you quickly switch up your technique, latching your lips as best you could around her clit before swiping at it in broad, strong strokes with your tongue. You begin with strokes that begin and the bottom and end at the top. When she begins to quiver and shake, you begin to trace random patterns around her taut little bud.

“You’re doing so great!” Sakura moans, “I’ve never felt anything like that!”

You are almost annoyed now with her tone of voice - not that you were in a position to complain, not while her wet, slick lips were sweet upon your tongue and lips. You continue to swipe at her clit with your tongue, using the flat of it now to ensure maximum contact with the taut bud. Sakura begins to grind her hips against you, almost crushing her pussy against your face in an effort to draw every ounce of pleasure from your tongue as she could.

What a sight it would have been for anyone walking into the precinct showers at that moment. A man sitting on the floor, blindfolded and with hands bound behind his back, while Miyawaki Sakura stood over him, one hand pulling her skirt up and another gripping the back of his skull, pressing his helpless face against the wet, slick lips of her pussy.

Sakura grinds her face against you. You almost struggle to breathe - every time you come up for air, she presses you against the hot, slick flesh of her pussy with the hand grasping the back of your scalp. It was frightening. It was almost too much to handle. But it was also intensely, perversely arousing.

“Ah, stop, I need you inside me right now,” she snaps - the first time she’d broken her tone and shown the slightest hint of losing her composure. “Are you ready?”

“Fuck yes, Sakura. I want-”

Sakura silences you with a raised finger to your lips, just as she did earlier that afternoon on the rooftop.

“Just a yes or no, remember?”

“Y...yes,” you answer, suitably chastised.

“Good. Now sit there and be a good little cock for me to fuck.”

Sakura drops to her knees, straddling you once more. With your hands still bound behind your back you are unable to lie back fully, and so you settle into a sitting position as she sits on your lap. You would’ve given anything to get your hands on her hips, particularly as she adjusted herself for penetration - but you had to admit, not being able to see her or touch her beyond what she allowed your mouth and hips to do only heightened the intensity of your other senses.

She wastes no time. You felt her slim fingers on your cock for a moment, aligning your tip with her entrance, before she drops her hips and takes you inside her for the first time.

You both sigh out loud - loud, breathy sounds that echo off the tile surrounding you. Sakura gasps as you fill her completely, your crotches finally meeting as she fills herself with your stiff shaft for the first time. For a second you regret your choice to free your mouth and wish you’d freed your arms instead, as it would have allowed you to lie on your back and thus let Sakura penetrate herself more deeply - not that you were actually upset at being finally inside the needy, mewling young police officer.

“Oh my,” Sakura sighs, “you’re so fucking big inside me! Now I see, ohh! I see why those other girls keep you around! But now it’s my turn. My turn to use you as a fucktoy. Do you like being a fucktoy for me? Do you like being nothing more than a toy cock for me to fuck myself with?”

You want to argue with her, put her in her place, spit the same vulgarities and names right back at her. But there is a sharp, edgy undertone to Miyawaki Sakura, a kind of fierceness that made you fear what would happen if you did.

You decide to let her have her way - for now at least.

“Yes.”

“Good! Then get ready!”

Any misgivings you may have had about Sakura, about her double-sided personality, about her lack of professionalism when off-site and intimidating intensity when actually in the field, even about the way she spoke so casually and vulgarly about your relationship with your team - they all flew right out the window as she began to ride you. Every muscle in her small, lean body seemed devoted to driving your stiff shaft in and out of her body, each of her movements propelling her up and down as fast and hard as she was able. 

For all her faults and almost frightening instability, Miyawaki Sakura knew how to ride a cock.

You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised by the lack of build up to the way Sakura rode you. It was all you could do to grit your teeth and attempt to stay upright as her tight, lithe body rocked up and down, threatening to tip you over and onto your back, which, given your bound hands, would have been quite uncomfortable. Thankfully Sakura quickly grips onto your shoulders, helping keep you upright as she used them for more leverage, driving you in and out of the hot, wet flesh between her legs again and again.

“Oh, oh fuck, you’re so fucking big!” Sakura moans, seemingly barely able to turn her thoughts into words before she abandons the thought of speaking altogether, relying instead on a wordless string of gasps and sighs to articulate the pleasure coursing through her veins.

You grit your teeth, relishing the feel of her tight heat wrapped around your cock as she continued to ride you with fierce abandon on the shower floor. Eager to do something more than merely hold on, you lean forward, searching for and then finding her upper chest, pressing your lips against the small patch of exposed skin at the top of her blouse. 

Sakura catches on to what you were doing, and the next thing you hear is the sound of buttons ripping from fabric as she quite literally tears the blouse open.

Were any other girl to rip open a button up shirt to give you access to her chest, you would have been surprised with her recklessness - but with Sakura it was simply par for the course.

Your hungry lips press themselves against the newly revealed skin of her upper chest, greedly pressing against her pale, vanilla skin, licking and kissing and tasting. Soon you find her neck, latching onto the warmth you find there, sucking hard enough to bruise her and leave marks on her otherwise perfect skin. Sakura hugs you tightly against her body, not lowering her pace at all, still riding you fiercely, her hips not ceasing for a moment in their desire to fill herself over and over again with stiff, hard cock. 

The minutes pass as the tiny little police officer fucks herself on your stiff cock, the small shower space filled with your wordless moans and the wet slap of flesh hitting flesh.

The entire experience was torrid, fierce, intense. Sakura was so unpredictable, so unreadable - and that was even not counting the fact that you were blindfolded or had your hands bound. Her personality seemed to flip from moment to moment, and while a part of you missed the stability and predictability of your other partners, you would have been lying if you had said Sakura’s sheer craziness didn’t also turn you on in its own unique, special way.

When Sakura cums, her body turning into the same shaking, quivering mess she was when she came the first time, you are thankful - because you were close behind. Her flesh tightens and pulsates around you even more than you’d thought possible.

“I’m gonna cum, Sakura,” you hiss, forsaking for a moment her rule to limit your speaking to simple yesses or nos, and being thankful she was so far lost in the pleasure overtaking her senses that she was unable to pick up on that particular rule violation.

“Fucking fill my tight little pussy with your hot cum, you little fucktoy!”

Helpless to do much else, you allow yourself to finally fall over the edge, letting a deep, low groan escape your throat as your cock spasms and begins to spurt thick, hot cum inside the still-quivering Japanese girl’s wet, slick pussy. Even as your cock fills her with semen Sakura doesn’t stop, still riding you fiercely, still impaling herself with what was left of her energy, pushing your cum even deeper inside of herself with each thrust of your spasming cock. 

It’s almost painful the way she slams her entire weight onto your crotch and the cold, unforgiving floor beneath it. You would’ve given anything to just hold her down by her hips and savor the feeling of your orgasm, the feeling of filling a young woman’s pussy with your cum for the first time. But what you wanted didn’t matter. You were in no position to tell her what you wanted, and she probably wouldn’t have cared even if you were.

When she finally stops it is almost a mercy. You are drained of energy like you’d never been before - utterly physically and mentally spent. Your cock still embedded hilt deep inside her, she reaches up and finally slips the blindfold from your eyes. You spend a few seconds blinking rapidly, your eyes unused to the sudden brightness.

“That was a great job! You have one hour with Rose,” she says, her face bright and cheerful, as though she were congratulating the first place kart racer and wasn’t currently impaled with a recently orgasmed cock, filled to the brim with its fresh, hot semen. She grabs you fiercely by the skull and gives you a final, fierce kiss. 

“Will an hour be enough?” she asks when she finally tears her lips from yours. Able to see now, you lock eyes with her, and while her eyes are large and bright, you notice now that they are laced with more than a little crazy, brimming just below the surface.

It occurred to you at that moment just why Miyawaki Sakura had been buried in the records department of her precinct by her superiors.

She was a little crazy.

Too spent to come up with anything resembling a verbal response, you resort to following her rules once more.

You nod.

---

“I’m sure Officers Park and Douma have informed you of the charges that will be brought against you, and that your lawyer has conveyed the gravity of the situation you’re in,” Momo states, matter-of-factly. “The evidence is indisputable. Your future doesn’t look bright, Rose.”

“I’m aware that I’m fucked, yes,” Rose replies, making a dismissive gesture with her hands from the interrogation room’s table, where they are handcuffed to the thick metal bar in the middle of it. She had appeared to become even more of a mess since you saw her last at yesterday’s interrogation, with darker bags under her eyes and frazzled, messy hair. “So if I’m as screwed as you say I am, then why are you still here? Come to gloat, have you?”

“You’re here because we want to offer you something,” Momo answers.

“You? Offer me something? Hah! Unless it’s a ticket that lets me walk out that door a free woman then I’m not interested. What could you possibly have to offer me?”

Momo leans back in her chair. She had predicted that Rose would react the way she did during your preparation for this meeting. It was almost as if she had written a script for it - and it was your turn to speak your lines.

“Revenge,” you state, leaning forward on the table.

“Revenge? The fuck do you mean by that?”

“Let me ask you, Rose: how do you think we knew you’d be at that event a few days ago?”

“I dunno. Fucking cops have probably been tailing me from the second I touched down,” she spits with a dirty look towards the one-way glass, even if you knew there was no one on the other side. Sakura had made sure this conversation was strictly off the record.

“Nope. It’s because we received a tip - from one of your friends in Blackpink.”

Rose is unable to hide her reaction, her eyes going wide with surprise.

“You’re fucking lying. Why the hell would they give me up like that?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” you answer. “Maybe you pissed one of them off. Maybe they decided they didn’t need you anymore, getting caught doing shit overseas while they did the real hard work here in Japan and Korea. I don’t care. But if you help us find them, then maybe we can make sure they’re just as fucked as you are. If you’re especially helpful, maybe we recommend a lighter sentence for you.”

“You want me to rat on them? Give up my team?”

“Yes,” Momo answers. “Remember - it’s because of them that you’re going to be behind bars for a very long time, while they’re out there free as can be, living the life. This is your chance to take them down with you.”

“You must have had a safehouse or a base of operations here in Japan,” you add. “Give us the location of that base and we’ll make sure we take them down, without them being any the wiser that it was you who gave up their location.”

Rose bites her lip, staring intently at her own hands as she weighs her admittedly small range of options.

“If I give them up, you get me a lighter sentence? That’s it?”

“That’s part of it,” you answer, as Momo retrieves mugshots of the two Red Velvet members and from her briefcase and places them on the table. “We’re also tracking two fugitives from Korea that you might have heard of - Kang Seulgi and Kim Yerim. Do you or anyone in Blackpink know anything about them?”

Rose takes a quick glance at both photos, but there is no hint of recognition in her eyes.

“No, I don’t know either of those two. If it’s Koreans you’re looking for you’d best speak to the others. All my work was done overseas, as illustrated by your giant pile of indisputable evidence.”

Momo gathers the mugshots before taking a pad of paper and a pen from her briefcase and places them in front of Rose.

“We need you to write down the location of Blackpink’s safehouse,” she states. 

Rose takes a last moment of thought before she reaches for the pen.

“I want your word that I’ll get a lighter sentence for this. And that they’ll never know it was me that gave them up.”

“You have it. We can’t guarantee that the judge will honor our request, but I promise you they’ll be aware of your cooperation,” Momo replies.

Rose scribbles an address down on the pad of paper before sliding it across the table to Momo. Momo takes out her phone and opens her map app to confirm its validity. Satisfied, she gives you a nod.

“You’ve made the right decision,” you tell Rose as you stand up and get ready to leave. Momo packs up her things and follows closely behind.

“Throw those bitches into a hole and let them rot,” Rose hisses as you leave the room.

In the outside hallway, Sakura, wearing a garishly pink hoodie now given that she’d torn the buttons off her uniform blouse earlier that afternoon, raises her head from her phone as she notices you and Momo have left the room. Giving Momo a polite, cheerful smile and shooting you a suggestive wink, she enters the interrogation room, presumably to return Rose to her cell.

Also waiting in the hallway, sitting on a bench, are Nayeon and a third woman, who begins to speak as soon as Sakura has closed the door to the interrogation room.

“Did she believe it? That it was Blackpink that gave her up?”

“Yes, you answer.”

“You got the location of their safehouse?”

“Yes.” 

“What about Seulgi and Yeri? Did she know where they are?”

“No. I’m sorry, Irene.”

There is a flash of something resembling sadness and disappointment in Irene’s features. It is short and fleeting, but unmistakable. Soon it is replaced with the look of quiet determination that she had worn since the moment she’d joined you in Japan.

She rises from her seat. The short leggings she was wearing did little to hide the bulky tracking device around her ankle, but at least now her hands were free of the handcuffs she had on the last time you saw her.

“Understood. Let’s go - we have work to do.”

---

Author’s Note: Not my best work, I know, but I just wanted to get across how wild (in a good way) Sakura was during sex and I found it kind of difficult to get across that she was good crazy but not insane lol. Not sure how well I did or how clear everything came across as I’d never written anyone quite like her with those kinks. I always want to try writing new things and improving my writing, though. Let me know what you think. :)

[holdyourbreathuntilyouseelight]

Hothead

Summary:  Extended station scene from 1x03 between Carlos and TK, from Carlos' POV. A snapshot of how they started to mend things between them after TK had stormed out on the date that Carlos had tried to spring on him.

Rating: General Audiences

A/N: I do not pretend to know anything about the inner workings of a police station, their rules and regulations or what sort of things are contained in their reports. Tried to be as realistic as I could but apologies for any inaccuracies.I also do not claim any ownership of 9-1-1 Lone Star or the associated characters. Pretty sure they own me instead... (:

First foray into the 9-1-1 fandom but hopefully not the last!

Read on AO3 here.

* * *

Carlos was flipping through the files on his desk, making sure he had signed off on the last of them, when a familiar name being spoken caught his attention.

"TK Strand, yeah. He's a firefighter with the 126. Guess he got a little hot-headed."

"You can't keep reusing the same joke every time something involves a firefighter, Ben, seriously."

Carlos looked up from his desk to see two of his colleagues ribbing each other, all talk and no malice.

Jill was right – Ben liked to reuse the same heat-related jokes about firefighters, but his curiosity was peaked over the implication in regards to TK.

"What's that about one of the 126 firefighters? Did they get hostile at a scene we were at or something?"

The two cops looked over at him in surprise. He wasn't normally one to join in on gossip.

"Nah, he was off duty. Started a fight at a bar. Provoked two built men that were drunk off their asses. Bartender called it in after security tried breaking it up."

Carlos felt his worry double. What was TK doing? Why was he picking a fight? He knew he had freaked out on him the other day, making it clear there was a lot more going on internally than he was letting on, but volunteering to get pummeled? That had to be a cry for help.

"EMS clear him?"

"Yeah, he's fine, just some cuts and bruises. He's cooled off now; just gotta process him, give him back his shit, and do the usual stern warning that means bull."

Carlos seized the presented opportunity, hoping Ben would take the bait. "Hey, if it's that easy, why don't I take over? Your shift just ended and I owe you for staying late when I had my abuela's birthday to run to. I've finished the last of my reports from that three car pile-up earlier, so I'm free."

"Well, me and Ella were supposed to do date night tonight… yeah, all right, Reyes. He's all yours. Thanks, man."

"Of course. Have a good time." Carlos said, trying to play it off casual, like it was no big deal, even though he was itching to corner TK and ask what the hell he was thinking. He didn't need his coworkers knowing details about his private life so it was better they didn't know he knew the guy more intimately than professional overlap.

"I think you still owe Spencer, Reyes. Pretty boy is easy on the eyes, even if he is an idiot who started a bar fight." Officer Porter teased.

Carlos didn't bite; the station knew he was out, at least most of them did, so it wasn't that weird of a comment. Reacting would only make it obvious that something had gone on between them and he didn't need a lecture from the sergeant on duty about professional conduct or bias.

Ben passed over the folder on his way to his desk. Carlos immediately sifted through it, scanning the pages quickly to learn the basics of what had gone down.

Caucasian male, mid-to-late twenties, athletic build. 0.0 BAC on breathalyzer test. No abnormalities on basic toxin screen. No prior records with APD. No registered fingerprints in American database. New York driver's license – Tyler Kennedy Strand. Firefighter identification lists station 126. Charges of assault and disturbing the peace dropped by others involved. Release from policy custody with warning.

He read further through the other two men's files, piecing together that the story detailed matched what he had already been told.

Carlos looked up as another one of his colleagues led a handcuffed TK to his work desk and nodded in his direction. He accepted the plastic bag of TK's belongings from Jill and headed over to his… well, he didn't really know what they were.

He watched as TK held an ice pack to his temple, the odd cough wheezing out of him. He probably had a bruised rib or two, if not fractured, and it no doubt left his chest extra tight.

Carlos strode over and dropped the plastic bag of belongings onto the desk without a word.

TK looked up and groaned at the sight of him. "Seriously?"

Carlos grimaced as he sat down. "Austin's a small town, TK. Or should I say, Tyler Kennedy."

"Ugh." TK grumbled, eyes closed as he kept the ice pack against the side of his head.

"Bummer about getting arrested – people might find out your real name. Which marks the first actual thing I've learned about you."

Being good with his mouth, hands, and body notwithstanding…

"Isn't your processing me, like, a conflict of interest?" TK asked, a thin shred of hope clinging to the words.

It wasn't really an issue, given that Carlos hadn't been the deciding officer on charges and, technically, he wasn't even sure what their relationship could be classified as in order to consider it. If anything, it would be their definable working relationship that was the issue, but most officers in the precinct would have the same problem since they all crossed paths at one time or another on the job.

Carlos chose not to answer him, instead changing the subject. "The good news is that neither of your new friends want to talk about that little scuffle tonight…" he explained while unlocking the cuffs around TK's wrists, trying not to react when their hands brushed in the process. "…and since you blew a 0.0, we're not even giving you a drunk and disorderly."

He finally freed TK entirely of the metal, and TK rubbed his wrists, still not looking at him straight on.

Carlos pushed the bag towards him. "You're free to go."

There was a pause as TK digested that.

"And what's the bad news?" he asked as he picked up his stuff.

Carlos inhaled. "The bad news is that means you did this with a clear head." He swallowed before leaning on the desk to bring them closer together, lowering his voice so any nosy coworkers couldn't overhear. "I'm not trying to be your boyfriend, or even your friend if you're not into it, but you should probably talk to someone about why you felt compelled to do something so suicidal."

TK's eyes held so much pain as he looked back at him that Carlos had to look away. Needing something to do with his hands before he grabbed TK and refused to let go, he tossed the tissue box in front of him.

"You've got a little crud there, by the way." he added, gesturing to the side of his mouth.

TK plucked a tissue out and rubbed at the opposite side of his mouth to where the blood had piled up.

"Other side." he said, staring unblinking at the computer screen without taking any of it in. He was way too hyperaware of the man he hadn't been able to get out of his head to concentrate on the words on the screen.

TK wiped closer to the spot but still missed and didn't get the bulk of it, so Carlos sighed and grabbed a tissue of his own.

"Stop. Just… let me."

Deep green eyes bore into his brown ones as Carlos gently wiped the area, managing to get at least the worst of it. Their gaze was locked so intensely, Carlos was half-expecting sparks to explode in the air. God, he wished he could read TK's mind. There was some sort of storm brewing behind his eyes and Carlos had no idea what kind of emotion was rolling in.

He pulled the tissue away, crushing it up in his fist to stop him from saying or doing something stupid. He had already put his heart on the line enough with the man. No need to solidify his humiliation any further.

"Thanks." TK muttered, looking away finally.

Carlos didn't look at him, pretending to be wrapped up with finalizing the paperwork on the computer.

TK leaned over the desk, crossing an arm over the space between them. "Hey. I'm sorry I went crazy on you the other night." he said softly.

Carlos didn't want to reveal all of his cards, but there was no denying the thrill that rolled through him that TK was trying to apologize for what went down between them the other day. It had been eating him up inside since. And if TK was bringing it up unprompted, maybe that meant it had been bothering him too. And that he actually wanted to mend things between them.

Carlos managed to play it cool and indifferent. "I'm a cop. I'm used to crazy."

"Look, I just went through a really bad breakup. Like, nuclear bad. And then I relapsed."

Carlos had turned his body to face him but couldn't look him in the face, instead busying himself with a report on his desk. "You mean with me?"

Great, he was just a mistake. A 'relapse'. Guess that meant TK slept around, or used to, and it really had meant nothing to him.

"No. I mean with substances."

Carlos finally looked up at that. He wasn't expecting the confession, nor the way that TK was exposing himself to him right then. TK had addiction issues? Had given up substances likely due to misuse or overuse and his breakup had been bad enough to trigger using again?

Something clicked in his memory from the other night and he felt shame wash over him. "Right. Which explains your reaction to the champagne."

He had never asked if TK was even a fan of champagne or alcohol in general. He should've been more respectful and anticipated the idea that maybe TK had a poor relationship with it, or a bad experience, or just wasn't interested in it at all. No wonder he got his back up right away – Carlos had been trying to have a proper date with him but he didn't know this important thing about him. And TK was still probably pretty raw after his relapse that even the pressure to be polite would've been enough to set off some ugly emotions. That he'd have to come up with an excuse or lie, because who wanted to reveal their deepest secrets that early on?

"I'm such an idiot. I'm-I'm sorry…"

TK cut off his stammering. "No, it's fine, okay? I just… ever since I got here, it's just… it's just grey. And I just feel numb, all the time. I guess I just… I wanted to feel something."

TK's eyes were wet now, and there was nothing but heartbreaking honesty reflecting out of them.

Carlos felt his own eyes filling with moisture. He didn't know what to say. Hearing that TK had been hurting so badly, that he still was struggling so much… it broke his heart.

TK slipped his wallet and phone out of the clear bag finally and stood up to leave, heading in direction of the exit without another word. It seemed he had said all he needed to say.

Carlos couldn't let him go yet, couldn't let that be the last thing said between them tonight. "Judging by that lip, I'd say mission accomplished."

TK stared at him in irritable disbelief, the barest hint of amusement at the edges. "You really busting my balls right now?"

"Yeah. I suppose I am." Carlos replied.

He couldn't help the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smirk, and he felt his heart pick up its pace when he saw TK's expression break into one of his gorgeous smiles.

TK shook his head at him in mock-disappointment. "And all this time, I thought you were too good for me."

It was clearly meant in jest, but Carlos could detect the hidden truth behind the words. He was a little too stunned to say anything to dispute it, their easy banter normally coming naturally to him but he was drawing a blank.

It wasn't until the door closed behind him that Carlos moved, and then he was crossing the station to chase him outside.

"TK! Wait."

TK turned from where he was walking down the sidewalk, his movements more ginger now than they were in the station. He likely was in a lot more physical pain than he had let on.

Carlos stood in front of him and inhaled a breath in the hopes that it would instill some courage in him.

"Thank you for telling me all of that. I know that couldn't have been easy. But I want you to know, it doesn't change anything for me. I still want to be with you. Whenever you decide you're ready. I…" He exhaled shakily, glancing down at his shoes as he tried to dig for that bravery somewhere deep inside him. "I really like you, TK. Not just because you're the best sex I've ever had. I… there's something here. I feel it when I'm around you. You're… you're special. You make me feel… so many things I don't know how to name yet."

Great, now he was rambling. Even better, making it clear how much of a lovesick fool he was over the guy. That wouldn't freak him out or anything.

He corrected his throat, trying to calm his anxiety. "Look, all I'm saying is that if you feel anything for me, I can be patient. I can wait until you're more ready. I think you're worth the wait."

TK's responding smile could outshine the sun. He wasted no time in coiling his arms around Carlos' waist and burying his face in his shoulder.

"I really like you too. And I do want to give this a shot. Just… when it has a better chance of not blowing up before it gets started."

Carlos pressed a quick kiss to his good temple before pulling back.

"For now, try to stay out of trouble, okay? You won't always be so lucky to get such an understanding cop like me processing you at the station."

TK blew out an exasperated breath that turned into a laugh. "I'll do my best."

Carlos couldn't help grinning at him, a much bigger fan of a laughing and teasing TK than a shattered and beaten one.

"I should get back. You gonna be okay to get home?"

TK nodded. "Yeah I already called a ride."

"Well, see you later then." Carlos said, not really sure how to be less awkward as he headed back up the stairs to return to the station.

"Hey, Carlos?"

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"Best sex you've ever had, huh?"

TK was sporting his cockiest grin, and Carlos wished he could kiss it off of his stupid smug face.

"You would pick that as the only takeaway from that whole speech…"

TK chuckled. "No, I remember it all. I just latched onto that because it was the same for me too."

Carlos took an extra second to process and then he felt himself flushing in pride.

TK's smile softened, no doubt reading his reaction even from several feet away. "Goodnight, Officer Reyes." he said cheekily as he moved towards the car marked with the Uber sticker that had pulled up.

Carlos could only watch as the car drove off into the night.

He felt a little bereft being apart from TK after all the honesty of the evening. Something about being so vulnerable together gave him the urge to be within close quarters, not wanting to give up the resulting rush that came with exposing your heart and having it be safe with the other person.

But Carlos knew that TK needed time. And he was willing to wait as long as it took.

For now, he returned to his desk, this time with a little more of a spring in his step.

[alch3mic]

Could. Could I request SOFT TM SWAPAROO!BEAST/KING FLUFF??? aa??

The job you had was rather... peculiar one.

It certainly wasn’t the strangest job you’ve ever had in this crazy city, not by a long shot, but it was perhaps the most interesting you've had yet.

You were a personal maid.

That in itself was a pretty ordinary job title, which is why you didn't hesitate to apply for the job when you saw it online one day.

It was described simply as a live-in kind of gig with some rather long hours attached and a rather strange set of requirements, but the pay was way too good for you to pass up.

So you applied.

You were met the very next morning with a very strange phone call from a very callous individual who asked you some very bizarre questions.

The kind of questions you very much never asked for a job interview.

...Which made the whole thing seem very suspicious to you.

Still the money was very tempting so you decided to... very much continue with the job application anyways.

After what felt like more of an interrogation than a proper interview, the voice on the phone had told you to come down to the 'estate' for a face to face, and from there they would decide if you really got the job or not.

At this point you had expected a couple of things.

Like, maybe this was just some kind of prank and you'd show up to an empty lot, or... maybe it was a really elaborate ruse to rope you into some kinda weird pyramid scheme?

Wouldn't have been the first time that kinda stuff happened with all the different jobs you've applied to over the years.

Well, what you hadn't expected was to show up to the most ominous looking mansions you could've ever imagined; complete with deep dark colors, thorny rose bushes and several tacky gothic ornaments that made the whole thing look like it popped straight out of a storybook for a villain.

To top the whole affair off you met the owner of said villainous mansion; one very tall, very intimidating skeleton, who held the same callous tone as the one who spoke to you over the phone.

...A Fell...

And that's when your heart sank.

Seems like your bad feeling was right.

.......Until it wasn't.

The exchange you ended up having with him was actually rather pleasant, and he seemed to warm up to you rather quickly when you made an unexpected friend out of his cat. His sour expression ended up turning.. well.. less sour at the very least, and from there the two of you really seemed to hit it off.

Your job, as he described, would be easy.

Take care of his recluse brother.

......And that was it...?

Alright, you said.

And really, that was it.

You were given a rather cool looking (although also kinda tacky) uniform which completely matched the whole dark and gothic interior of the house, a tour of the place, and a small list of duties you were expected to perform daily along with anything else his brother asked of you.

Anything else, Papyrus took care of.

Cool.

Great.

Stellar, really.

What your new boss failed to mention was how much of a recluse his brother really was.

Like, the guy didn't even leave his room the first few days you were there.

You exchanged very few words with him through a large set of double doors on occasion, and you eventually managed to work out a bit of a schedule where he'd leave his room for a few hours and you'd tidy his space up.

You still ended up never seeing him.

He'd always miraculously disappear before you came in, even the few times you'd shown up just a few minutes early in hopes that'd you catch a glimpse of this guy.

But, no luck.

The whole affair just left you feeling rather curious about who exactly it was you were taking care of. You could tell from picking up his room that he was tall, much like his brother, but also kinda wide.

Built more like a square than a rectangle.

You could also tell he had a variety of interests from the books always messily littering his room. Anything from astronomy to zoology, all of the pages meticulous marked with sticky notes and papers with hastily scribbled notes on them. There was also an assortment of crafty things, like fabrics and chains always hastily thrown together on a desk that he apparently used to make things, such as outfits for himself.

It was cute, in a way.

He even eventually made something for you.

A gold bracelet, decorated with most delicate porcelain red roses who's petals were also trimmed in gold.

A thank you, he said, for taking care of him... and for filling the halls of this home with your singing.

You absolutely adored it, which is why it made you all the more determined to finally meet with him face to face.

Of course though, just like with everything else in your life, none of your plans ever worked out. Every opportunity to catch a peek at him was missed, even on the days where you would slide him things like meals through his door. He was always shadowed by the light in his room, so you could never see his face, and he always closed the door so quickly so your eyes could never adjust.

It was.. a little frustrating but, really it wasn't your place to push why he hid away.

You did happen to ask Papyrus one day when you were helping him tend to the rose bushes, but he all he told you was that his brother was shy around other people.

...Shy your fuckin' ass.

Sure, he was sweet. You could tell that from not only the gift he gave you, but also from the extended conversations you'd have with him on the other side of the door. He was a bit quiet in your first few exchanges but eventually warmed up a lot more to you the more you tried to strike up friendly conversations. He ended up becoming a little more cheeky, and seemed to have a certain skill for making you bust your butt laughing with his otherwise raunchy humor.

Really.. with that kind of smoother talker personality you really had to wonder what he went through to make him so cautious around others.

But.. again it just wasn't your place to ask.

You were here to make a paycheck, not invest yourself into the problems and lives of others... despite how much you enjoyed working for your employers.

Both of the brothers ended up treating you very well.

You were paid handsomely and never felt yourself being overworked. They never asked anything outrageous of you, gave you a rather lovely living quarters all to yourself on the estate grounds and even gave you adequate days off.

The whole thing almost really felt like some kind of fairy tale.

So here you were again, living in a small piece of your own world as you wandered the halls of the estate in the late hour, technically past your shift.

The rain pitter pattered against the window as you traveled with a laundry basket in hand, your last chore for the day. It had taken a while to dry thanks to the damp weather, and even though you were technically due to be off you wanted to have this finished before retiring for the evening.

Just needed to drop it off in front of Sans' room and away you'd g-

"mrow?"

You inhaled quickly at the sound, jumping a bit before turning back to look down the hall at a familiar white cat in the distance.

"Oh stars above, it's just you Doomy," you breathed out, placing a hand to your chest.

The cat meowed again as it trotted closer to you, so you carefully set down the laundry basket to scoop up the white cat in your arms.

"You scared the hell out of me! Didn't Papyrus ever teach you it's bad manners to sneak up on others you silly little cat?" you whispered softly as she purred in your arms.

Oh you could never stay mad at Doomfanger for too long.

She was just too cute, and always liked to keep you company on nights like this when Papyrus had to attend to business in town. Certainly made you feel a lot less lonely, even though you knew someone else was technically in this house too-

CREAK.

You froze again, hearing nothing but silence until the floors creak again underneath someone's footstep.

Then another.

And another.

Closer and closer.

......

Alright well you were armed with nothing but your two fists, some laundry and a cat, but Papyrus had left the whole estate in your care tonight and you would be damned before you disappointed him!

So, you turned confidently to face whoever was stalking these halls before being met with...

"...Sans?"

You're not exactly sure what compelled you to call out his name, considering whoever you were looking at had a blanket covering their shoulders and head, but apparently your guess was right as he froze on the spot.

"...Jeez, both you and Doomfanger are apparently determined to scare me out of my wits tonight," you finally sighed, letting the cat go as she gracefully landed and sauntered her way over to Sans before rubbing up on to his leg.

He still seemed frozen in place, his head tilted ever so slightly in your direction but the blanket he wore over his head still casted him into shadows thanks to the dim lighting of the halls. The only thing you could properly see were a pair of eyelights burrowing into you, one red and one white.

"Is.. everything ok?" you asked, picking up the laundry basket and carefully approaching closer.

Clearly it wasn't considering he was out of his room when you were here but...

"....left.."

"Huh?" you asked, still trying to at least keep some respectable distance between you both but also taking a step in to catch what he was saying.

"i...i-i thought you.. already.. so i......... snack..."

He was fumbling with his words, seeming to shrink in a bit on himself almost in fear or some kind of embarrassment.

"Oh! No, sorry!" you explained with a quick wave of your hand. "I just had this last load to finish but it took forever to dry so I stuck around a little longer to get it done!"

You did your best to smile warmly at him, which you hoped would ease a bit of the tension he was holding, but it didn't.

Instead he became... really...

Red.

Very, very red in fact.

So much so that it actually lit up his face, and for once you could actually see him as he stared back at you, seeming transfixed upon your features. There were harsh cracks and scratches splintered over his face, and just the faintest hint of gold where a tooth would have been.

"...Huh.."

Your words seemed to snap him out of whatever kind of trance he was in and he quickly covered his face with a clawed hand.

"n-no! this...! i.. didn't...! mean to... scare..."

He seemed to be scrambling for words again, but you were still dazzled by what you just saw, unable to keep the sparkle down in your own eyes.

"You've...."

He continued to cover his face with his other hand.

"......got some crumbs on your face."

.............

He carefully peeked at you between his claws, that red eyelight of his slightly enlarged and looking.. incredibly confused.

"Here," you said, tapping your own cheek.

Sans seemed to pause again, carefully removing once of his hands to rather quickly wipe his face.

"Nope, other one!" you giggled, unable to resist the smile climbing over your face once again.

Another attempt and another miss.

You could feel his eyelight bore into you some more when you laughed a bit more loudly this time, shaking your head and setting down the laundry basket once more.

"Oh my gosh, just..! C'mere!" you finally said, taking a few more steps while pulling a handkerchief out of your pocket.

He stared again for a few more moments, hesitating only slightly before carefully bending down to your level and slowly moving his hands from his face.

You lightly placed a hand on one of his rather tense cheeks before gently wiping the other, making note of the kind of crumbs he still had clinging to his face thanks to the red glow that still illuminated his cheekbones.

Slowly you felt the tension he held melt away and soon enough it felt like he was resting his head in the palm of his hand while a gentle rumbling noise made itself present to your ears.

"....Did you eat the last of the cookies?" you asked, glancing back up him only to see him quickly look away from you.

".........maybe," he said softly, letting out a small gruff laugh.

"Ooooh, Papyrus is going to have an absolute fit when he gets back," you snickered.

"...yeah i know..s'fine," he mumbled softly. "..just gonna blame it on you."

"Hey!!"

"...or doomfanger.."

"Oh my stars, do not blame the cat you goober!"

"what? i'm pretty sure you'd both get in less trouble than i would!"

"That's not the point you jerk, haha!"

"..heh.."

Yeah.. this... really was quite the peculiar job, wasn't it?

Strangely though, you liked it.

A lot.

Especially now that you got to see just how cute the skeleton beyond the door really was.

check out my other writings | feel free to drop me a ko-fi!

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Happily Ever After - 5

The Tower: Happily Ever After An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist | Character Refrence PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1601

Warnings:  Pregnancy

Synopsis: Almost 40 years after Elise Cooper first crashed into Natasha Romanoff outside the library at Columbia University, she and the Avengers are adapting to a near-immortal life together with their large brood of children.  Yet things aren’t perfect.  Life is moving on without them and they’re starting to discover who isolating being immortal can be.When Angela comes and asks Thor to take the throne of Asgard once more, the group leaves Earth in the hopes that they will find their Happily Ever After there.

Chapter 5: Farewell to Our Old Life

It was kind of strange how little there was to organize for us regarding our move.  There was packing, but we couldn’t exactly hire a moving truck so it needed to fit in bags that we could carry or it had to stay behind.  That was difficult.  We had had a long time to collect a lot of things we considered precious to us.  The glass artwork that Thor and I had inadvertently made on our honeymoon was the thing I wished we could bring the most.  It would stay in the fountain in the entry and hopefully, we’d come back sometimes and see it.

Thankfully, most of our things were fairly portable.  We also wouldn’t need a lot of clothes because Asgard would provide things more fitting for the palace, and it’s not like we would need any furniture.  Mostly it was just personal effects and tech that Tony wanted to use there.

Other than that it was just letting the doctors know I was leaving, pulling Marya out of school, and organizing the party.

It was still leaning on the stressful side though - especially considering we were still waiting to hear what the rest of the kids were going to do.

Even though Rose and Paul had appeared closest to deciding to come, it was Billy and Teddy who came back to us first with a yes.  They had also said they wanted to do a bonding ceremony when we were there, which added another level of excitement and another level of stress.

Rose and Paul came next.  They said that they would try it out and see.  The concern about their children’s lifespan was a big issue for them, but Paul also said he’d be crazy to give up at least trying to live on Asgard as actual royalty.

As expected it was Eddie who took the longest to decide.  He really did love his job, and I think even with his talk about having children, he, Lyra, and Rory were still right into the rich, young party lifestyle.  He was worried about what they’d lose going to Asgard, rather than focusing on the things he might gain. 

No one pressured him though.  Any questions the three had were answered as honestly as we could and if we didn’t know we’d send word back to Asgard and Loki would come and give the answers they were looking for if at all possible.  Eventually, he decided that he’d give it six months for us to settle and make sure things with Stark Industries and the Avengers was transitioning smoothly given our sudden departure, and then he and his family would join us there to try it out.  He mentioned maybe doing six months on each planet or returning to Earth for a month or two every year, but we were all just glad he was willing to try it out, and his delayed departure from Earth was a good idea.  He even promised to come and visit when his new siblings were born.

When our goodbye party began, the whole family was excited for this new chapter in our lives and sad to say goodbye to the last.

Many of our friends were elderly or had passed on, so the party was going to be a mixture of different people.  Clarke was still around, though Jax had passed a few years ago.  We’d lost Rhodey and Fury, though Hill was still running the day-to-day operations of the Avengers, even in her old age, and Coulson had retired after years as successfully being director of SHIELD.  Vision was the same as ever, and people often came to him for direction when it came to the Avengers.  Carol also hadn’t changed though she still spent more time in space than on Earth.  A lot of the people we had met that had seemed so young when we met them, were all not officially middle-aged.  Even Peter Parker who was only fifteen when I met him was now pushing fifty and had a wife and daughter of his own.

They would all be at the party, including a lot of the new Avengers lineup.  Most of whom were much heavier hitters than any of us, even when we were wielding Mjolnir.  It was definitely going to be sad to say goodbye.

“It’s going to be okay, you know?”  Wanda said, snapping me out of my mini-trance as she ran a brush methodically through my hair.

“No, I know,” I said, tilting my head back.

“Then tell your brain that,” she teased.

I giggled and leaned up and pecked her lips.  “I’m sorry.  I would if I could.  Just hormones I guess.  Feeling stressed.”

“Well, stop it,” she scolded playfully.  “It’s bad for the babies.”

She began to braid my hair and I hummed as her fingertips grazed over my scalp.  “Imagine it though, Elly,” Wanda said.  “All the kids nearby - the new babies.”

“You’re a baby-oholic,” I said, laughing softly.

“It’s true,” she says.  “I am.”

She ran a hand around my side and pressed it on my stomach.  “I can’t wait to meet them,” she said.  “They already have such busy thoughts.”

I looked up at her and I’m not sure whether it was the look of pure and complete love in her eyes or the way the light caught in her hair, but I was struck by how beautiful she was and how much I loved her.  She smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead.  “I love you too,” she said and picked up a strand of silver wire with black opal and threaded it into my hair.  “All done.”

I stood carefully and straightened out the skirts on my blue lace cocktail dress.  “How do I look?” I asked.

“Perfect as always,” she said.  “Let's go say goodbye to our friends.”

We made our way down to the party deck where the party was only just starting up.  Bruce, Steve, and Clint were all already there, but there was no sign of Tony, Natasha, Clint, Sam, Thor, or Bucky.

Some of our kids were there and their kids all played out in the garden atrium that was built on the protruding wing of the tower and the party deck opened out into.  I greeted everyone and as I made my way around the room more people arrived.

Clarke came over and tapped me on the shoulder.  I turned and smiled, hugging her tightly.  She had aged well, not as well as I had obviously, but while her face was lined and she was a little frailer looking, she had kept in good shape and she continued to color her hair.  It would be easy to think she was in her early fifties rather than her mid-seventies.  Her eyes were what gave it away.  What had once been vivid violet had faded to pale lavender and were slightly cloudy.  They were heavily lined at the corners, the years having carved deep crevices to mark each time she was happy or sad or angry or worried.  It was still my Clarke though and I was going to miss her.

“I can’t believe you’re not going to be here when these two are born,” she said, indicating to my stomach as we pulled apart.  She was one of the select group of people I would be totally fine with touching my stomach unasked - but she never assumed.  “Where am I going to get my baby kisses from?”

I laughed and shook my head.  “I guess you’ll have to visit me on Asgard.”

“You can do that?”  She asked.

“I mean… I’m the Queen.  I think I can pull some strings,” I teased.

She laughed.  “God, thinking of you as a Queen is such a trip.”

“Hey Auntie Clarke,” Billy said, appearing behind us.  “I haven’t seen you for a while.”

Clarke hugged him and looked around.  “It’s been too long.  Where are those kids of yours.”

“Come on, I’ll take you to them,” he looked over at me and narrowed his eyes.  “You go sit down, mom.  You know you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

“I am taking it easy,” I argued, holding up my hands.  “I’m just standing here.”

“Go on,” he said.  “Don’t make me page Dad Tony.”

“Heaven forbid,” I laughed and he wrinkled his nose at me and led Clarke out to the atrium.  I got myself a little plate of appetizers and a glass of punch and went and took a seat.

It wasn’t long until the whole room was teeming with people.  The Avengers had gotten to be a rather large collection of people since the original six had been reluctantly dragged together all those years ago.  Having so many of the people who meant so much to all of us here at the same time couldn’t help but make me think about how I’d first joined this group that would one day be my family.

All those years ago I had been a traumatized woman in her mid-twenties, just trying to get by.  I didn’t have many good friends, because it took a lot for me to trust people.  It took a superhero to get through and with her, so many other people flooded in after.  I was so grateful to them, and so in love with each of them to this day.  It would be hard letting this life of ours go, but it was inevitable.  I still had my 9 chosen people though, and I always would.  I was glad to be taking this next step with them at my side.

// NEXT

[succubusphan]

Opposites Attract

Summary: Phil comes home and finds a letter.

Rating: G

Tags/warnings: Established Relationship, Fluff

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: This was written for the @phandomreversebang 2021 based on the prompt given by my beloved @schnaphan, thank you for working with me again and thank you to my other beloved @effingmeteors for being my emergency beta when I thought it was the day before posting. (We love being responsible in this house).

Read on ao3 | [Art Link]

Phil let out a sigh of relief as he turned the key to their new house and walked in. The living room lights were off but Dan had left two lamps on for him - as he usually did - to keep him safe from any tripping hazards. It was a small gesture but Phil was still grateful for it, considering how stressed and worried Dan must have been while he was out. He left the keys on the console table, removed his shoes, and padded to the piano.

There was a folded note from Dan, quite lengthy too, so Phil yawned and rubbed his face tiredly, stretching his arms above his head and elongating his spine until he heard a pop before taking a seat at the stool. He tried to focus his eyes on the page but found it difficult through his murky glasses, so he wiped them on his T-shirt with a huff and started reading.

“Last week, when I went back to my mum’s house, I took a moment away from the family and went forest bathing and it got me thinking about us. About us as individuals and as a couple. About everything that we are to ourselves and to each other. Every aspect of nature reminded me of you because you are everywhere in my life; there’s not a single corner of it that doesn’t have Phil written over it and that’s exactly how I want it because I remember how it was before you came into my life.

I still remember what it all felt like when we met. I was in a dark cave, waiting to be at the end of the rope but I found you. You were there, waiting for me, you became my light without meaning to. My life changed completely just by watching your videos.

Before you, everything was deemed pointless and quickly abandoned. Every hobby, every project, every relationship, but not you.

When I saw you, it felt like a small window had opened and sunlight could pierce through the darkness for the first time. Then I met you and I knew I was nothing compared to you, I was nobody and you were too good for me, but you didn’t care. You saw me, you reached out to me, extending your hand and got straight into my soul. No walls could keep you out; you saw right through my lies, my deflection, and my avoidance. You became my safe space and allowed me to be myself and I decided to never let go.

You taught me to let go of the things that were weighing me down if I didn’t really want them, you helped me stick to what I was passionate about and, most importantly, you helped me become the person that I am today. Yes, I worked very hard on myself and I still do, but I don’t think I would have ever taken another chance with therapy if it wasn’t for your love and support. I put you through a lot back then, but you believed in me. You waited for me, waited until I felt like I could be open. Thank you.

If I had known where we would be in 2021, I would have probably run in the opposite direction. It’s so much. Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes? Every day I get to wake up to the love of my life sleeping in my arms, snoring softly with a small pout on his face, and we are free. I am free and you were there cheering me on every step of the way. You never pushed me even though I know you probably wanted to sometimes, you just knew.

It’s true that people laughed a bit when I called you my soulmate but I don’t care, that’s what you are. I don’t care if I don’t believe in that shit. To me, you are the only person that will ever be. Thanks to you I get to work side by side with my partner in crime in every project, no matter if it’s his or mine or ours; we are always there for each other, sharing the highs and the lows and driving each other crazy in every possible way.

It’s funny - in a way - because we have so much in common but we are opposites as well. Well, at least where it matters. We were made, created by the universe, two clumps of carbon atoms travelling through the solar system that conveyed into the cells that later became us. And even as we came into this world and grew up, every experience we had, kept moulding us to be perfect for each other because we are imperfect, because we were hurt and ostracized, because we liked the same things, because we laughed and loved and hurt over the same things.

But in the end, those experiences shaped us into two very different beings. You were brave and proud, even if a little bit; I was a coward and ashamed. You had a lot of friends; I was alone. You were sweet and caring; I was cold and distant. But once we met, you had cold hands and feet and I became your warmth. You were looking for someone who would love you above anyone else and I gave you that. You needed a partner for all of your crazy projects that would help and encourage you and I was that for you, just like you were for me.

I think that’s why people say that opposites attract. That can be the case if you think about it carefully: It’s like a puzzle. Two pieces shaped exactly the same will never fit together, but if you put two complementary shapes together they will click easily and become one. That is why I think that we were meant for each other. It was always going to be us. I don’t know what kind of magic spell or prepayment in a different life made this happen, but I’m fucking grateful that it happened.

Loving you so much is also a curse sometimes. I’m not going to lie; I often joke when you get into one of your freak accidents because making light of the situation helps me cope until I can get you to a doctor and confirm that your time being an absolute menace in my life is not coming to an end. Today was different though. For fucks sake Phil, we just moved after months and months of waiting and stressing and we are in the literal climatic and epidemiologic apocalypse and you decide to swallow some fucking glue at 2 am. I thought I was going to die, but I honestly didn’t want to without having the opportunity to drag you to hell with me (I’m petty like that).

You don’t know how hard it was to watch you leave in that ambulance and not be able to be there with you. It’s one of the things that keeps me sane when you inevitably end up in the hospital every few months. I just want to be there, bringing you sweets, keeping you company, playing video games with you, and above all else, checking that you didn’t fucking die. I couldn’t do that this time and it’s driving me up the wall.

It’s 6 am now. I’ve unpacked a few more boxes and arranged everything neatly on the shelves in our bedroom. I wanted to wait up for you and see that you are ok but I’m too tired to continue and my body is sore and my eyes too because I missed you and I started crying thinking the worst. Please, do come join me in bed, wrap your arms around me and keep me safe from the nightmares that will surely follow. All I ask in compensation for putting me through this is that you wear this ring from this moment on…”

Phil gasped. It couldn’t be, could it? Would Dan actually propose in the middle of this ordeal?

He looked around with a smile but didn’t see anything else, so he checked under the piano lid, there laid a note saying “Naughty, do not eat!” with a warning sign and the bottle of glue sitting on top. Beside it, there was an almost white and uneven ring made out of some sort of melted plastic. He rolled his eyes and put the offending ring on with a tired sigh before looking back to the letter: “I made it with the cheap hot glue gun that couldn’t hold your glasses together. I hope you don’t mind, I found it very fitting for this occasion. Hopefully, it will strengthen our bond as well as remind you not to eat fucking glue next time.”

Phil laughed and took a picture of the note with the warning sign and walked up to their bedroom. He shook his head with a fond smile when he noticed the air conditioner blasting at 24 degrees and Dan borrowed under the covers. He undressed as quietly as possible before sliding under the covers and spooning his silly boyfriend, placing a soft kiss to his jaw and happily drifting off to sleep.

[hopelikethemoon]

Moonbeam (Ezra x Reader) [smut] {Werewolf AU}

Title: Moonbeam  Rating: Explicit  Length: 6,000 Warnings: Non-graphic description of bodily injury and smut (cunnilingus, doggy style sex, mentions of masturbation).   Reader Details: To the best of my knowledge, there are no references to Reader’s physical details, beyond being a bisexual woman. I tried my best to keep it as vague as possible.  Notes: So, this is the second lengthy Ezra fic I’ve written this month, but the only one that will see the light of day. Shout-out to @rzrcrst​ for pre-reading this for me.  Werewolves are my niche and I’m absolutely incapable of writing them without creating the lore around their existence. Ezra exudes big werewolf energy (P.S. Javier exudes big vampire energy) and since I’m not really in a fandom until I write a werewolf AU, I present you all with my very own version of space werewolves.  Depending on audience reactions, there might be more of this story to tell. 

Taglist:@princessbatears @djarin-junk @absurdthirst @hdlynn @legally-a-bastard @opheliaelysia @heather-lynn @sabinemorans @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons​ @pedrospunk​ @maybege​ @chews-erotically​ @katlikeme​ @lose-eels​ @youmeanmybrain​ @theindiealto​ @irishleesh93​

You had heard the rumors, but never once had you believed that they were true. A werewolf living on a moon? Werewolves were the stuff of fairytales. They weren’t real. 

They weren’t real. 

But someone who had come before you had clearly considered the potential. Why else had someone thought to set up a cleverly concealed steel trap?

The pain was overwhelming. Worse than anything you’d ever encountered before. You were lucky your leg hadn’t snapped in two — your heavy coveralls were your saving grace. 

You howled out in pain as you dropped to your knees, trying in vain to pry the trap off your leg. The sharp teeth had bit through the fabric of your coveralls and the dark stain forming told you everything you needed to know about your future. If you didn’t get the trap off soon, you were going to bleed out. 

And then you’d become a smorgasbord for whatever creatures lived on this moon. There had to be something terrifying in the forest that had convinced everyone to believe in werewolves. 

“Kriff.” You swore, your arms throbbing with effort as you tried yet again to free your leg from the trap. You dropped back onto your ass, before sinking down onto the soft mossy ground beneath you. 

At least the stars were out. You could see them through the bareboned trees as they swayed above you in the evening breeze. 

The pain wasn’t so bad at a certain point, most likely because of the blood loss. That would do it. That woozy, tingling sensation that had your vision blurring at the edges. 

A branch snapped nearby, sending a dull spike of nerves through you. You hadn’t made a study of the flora and fauna on the moon — but that certainly didn’t sound like a small creature. 

“Please don’t eat me.” You mumbled, tilting your head to look in the direction of the sound. The filtered moonlight from the crescent moon above barely illuminated the forest around you and your flashlight was just out of reach. 

You heard the sound of another branch snapping under foot, “Hello?” 

All men are beasts in their own right, but the man that stepped into your line of view seemed an unlikely candidate. 

“I do believe that trap was not set to ensnare one such as you,” He drawled out with a honey-sweet cadence as he moved towards you.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” You offered weakly, trying to sit up as he knelt beside you, but your vision blurred harshly and you sank back onto the ground. 

“How fortuitous you are that I take my evening stroll through this very copse of trees.” He mused, effortlessly freeing your leg from the steel trap. 

“How—“

“You have lost a considerable amount of blood, little lamb. I would be most obliged to offer shelter and succor. These woods are no place to remain alone. One can never know what creatures fresh blood may attract.”

You exhaled shakily as you stared up at the stars above you. He was right — you’d never make it back to your transport alone on your leg. “Promise not to kill me?” You cracked, tilting your head to look at him.

He flashed you a toothy grin, “I promise.” 

“What is your name?” You asked as he hoisted you into his arms, with surprising ease. 

“Ezra.” He told you, looking down at you. “And what is your name, little lamb?”

“Ezra.” You repeated softly, resting your cheek against his chest as he carried you through the forest. You gave him your own name, feeling a strange warmth wash through you when he repeated it back in that beguiling tone of his. 

“Am I right in my assumption that you are the occupant of the transport that arrived just two nights ago.” Ezra questioned quietly. 

“Depends on who is asking.” You jested lightly, “I am. Reconnaissance mission for a mining program.” 

“Ah,” His grip on you seemed to tighten. “Another greedy venture to strip the moon of its precious lunaxium?” 

“I can only assume.” You glanced up at him, “Above my pay grade.”

“You should leave within the week.” Ezra remarked, keeping his sharp gaze focused ahead of him. “It won’t be safe for you.”

“You don’t believe in that stupid story, do you?” You questioned, “Isn’t that just a tale to keep prospectors from coming here?”

“I once believed that.” Ezra muttered, before falling silent for the remainder of the journey to his humble abode. 

You had so many questions for your serendipitous savior, but he tended to your leg in relative silence and then left you to rest in his bed. 

From what you could tell, Ezra had fashioned a home for himself out of a crashed transport vessel that you could only assume had been his own at one time. Perhaps he’d been like you once upon a time, a drifter picking up odd jobs and landing in bad situations. 

Ezra was handsome. The moonlight hadn’t tricked you into thinking that — in the garish light of his bedroom, he was still just as striking. Warm eyes, long lashes, a mess of chestnut hair with a shock of blonde, and a wiry frame. 

How long had he been living on Lykaios? Had his vessel crashed on a wayward venture and he’d had no one to come looking for him? Not that anyone would come looking for you either. 

Maybe Shiva. They would’ve probably come looking for your corpse just to get what was owed to them. 

It was a damn miracle that Ezra had stumbled upon you. How had he even found you? The woods all looked the same. 

Sleep came slowly and fitfully. Despite the shot Ezra had given you, your leg was agonizingly painful if you moved at all. Fortunately, there were books within reach — well-loved, with worn pages. You wondered if they had been Ezra’s to start with, or if he’d found someone’s abandoned transport. 

He had excellent taste. 

You hadn’t seen a stack of Chaucer since you were much younger. His copy of Canterbury Tales had been opened so many times the spine wilted in your palm. 

Ezra announced himself with a short knock, before sliding open the durasteel door. “I expected you to be asleep. You had quite the evening, little lamb.”

“I tried.” You made a note of the page you were on before closing the book and sitting it aside on the bedside shelf. “I got distracted by… your collection of novels.”

He chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “I see you’re getting acquainted with my old oppo Chaucer.” 

“I’ll have you know, Chaucer is my friend.” You quipped, drumming your fingers against the cover of the book. “It was nice to retrace old lines.” 

“He’s an acquired taste,” Ezra tucked his hands behind his back and stepped into the room. “Youth may outrun the old, but not outwit.”

You smiled a little, “Earn what you can since everything’s for sale.” 

Ezra chuckled, shaking his head. “And how true that is.” He gestured grandly towards your leg, “But oftentimes it comes with folly.”

“Is that how you ended up here?” You questioned, “I wanted to ask you last night, but with everything...” 

He shrugged, dragging over a trunk and perching on the edge of it. “Five years ago I stood where you stand. They were looking for a new form of clean energy — lunaxium seemed like the answer.” Ezra pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, looking away from you then. “This place is filled with hidden dangers. Once you can put weight on your leg, I encourage you to leave.” 

“You could come with me.”

Ezra’s gaze snapped towards you, “No.” 

Your brows furrowed together, “Alright.” 

“I need to change your bandages,” Ezra exhaled heavily as he rose from the trunk, he turned his back to you as he moved to retrieve the roll of gauze from a shelf. 

Your eyes widened as you spotted a twisted scar that ran up the back of his neck into his hairline and vanished down the back of his shirt. You hadn’t noticed it last night while he fussed over you. 

“Ezra, why can’t you leave?” 

Ezra sighed heavily as he sat down on the foot of the bed, drawing your leg into his lap. “It’s home.” He answered simply, unwinding the bandages. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but this—“ He gestured around him. “It’s mine.” 

“And you haven’t gone stir crazy after five years?” You questioned, grimacing as he prodded at your wound. “I was gone for two months on a solo mission once and I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to Shiva again. Even if they did rob me blind during liar’s dice.” 

“You get used to solitude.” Ezra glanced at you briefly, before turning his attention to the task at hand. He cleaned the area around the wound, before wrapping fresh bandaging around it. “Once or twice a year, someone like yourself arrives and…”

“And the mythical werewolf eats them?” You jested, sinking back against the mattress as he laid your leg back down on the bed. 

“Something like that.” He offered dryly, eyeing at you warily. “There’s a full moon in eleven days. I would advise you not to wait around to discover whether or not it is simply lore.” 

Your brows knit together and you sat up, arms curled around your waist. “You say that like there’s a chance it is true. You’ve been here for five years… What have you seen?” 

“I have things I must attend to away from here.” Ezra said abruptly, “Rest and I’ll return in a few hours to escort you back to your transport.”

Ezra did little to assuage that sinking sensation that told you that maybe just maybe there were werewolves on Lykaios. 

“Before you settled here, what did you do?” You questioned, leaning into Ezra’s side as he kept a firm hand coiled around you for support. “Your transport didn’t offer many clues, outside of your exquisite taste in literature.”

 Ezra chuckled, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “I was a harvester. A damn good one, at that. But seasons get hard, tides turn, allegiances bend. Fell into a bit of a snare with an associate and had to dig my way out.” 

 “I think we’ve all been there before,” You shook your head. “I enjoy gambling. Nasty habit.” You admitted. “I wasn’t meant to be the one to come to Lykaois. My friend — the one I mentioned before — had been assigned to this mission. They lost it in a dicey bet with me.” 

 “Dicey?”

“What gambler plays honorably?” You countered. “I cheated.” 

“And this friend of yours was meant to come here instead?” 

You nodded, “Tried to win it back right up until the moment I took off.” Shiva had been furious that they’d lost and even more furious knowing that you hadn’t played fair. “I’ve heard the stories about Lykaois and I wanted to find out if they were true.”

“One shouldn’t go looking for the stuff of myth.” Ezra drawled out. “In my erstwhile profession, I had a certain predilection for danger. It can be damning.” 

“Look, I don’t mean to pry, but… is there a reason you can’t leave?” You stopped abruptly, causing him to stumble slightly. “My transport has life support for three. If there’s someone else you’ve got here — if that’s why you don’t want to leave.” 

You could feel Ezra’s gaze bore into your skin. 

“I’m not leaving.” You told him, when he made no attempt to answer your question. “I’ll take a day or two to rest, but I’m finishing what I’ve started.” 

“It’s not safe.” 

“Then why don’t you leave?” You pushed back. “If it’s so dangerous, why aren’t you trying to leave?”

Ezra worked his jaw slowly, before looking towards the sky and sighing heavily. “I’m not the only inhabitant on this moon. Some have been here for much longer than me and they…” He shook his head slowly. 

You curled your fingers around his forearm, turning to stare at him. “They’re what?” 

“Little lamb, be glad you were found by me and not one of them.” Ezra gritted out, holding your gaze. “Consider your luck and leave before it runs out.” 

He wasn’t going to relent. Whatever secrets Lykaois held, he wasn’t going to reveal them to you. 

“Will you at least let me give you a few of my books?” You questioned, squeezing his arm tight as you used him to support your weight. 

“Depends on what you’re offering.” Ezra retorted, “But we need to keep moving. You need to get your leg up.” 

 Ezra was entranced with your small collection of books. Like a man starved, he snatched up every book — flipping through its pages with reverence. You couldn’t imagine spending five years without getting your hands on a new book. 

You thought he would abruptly leave once he had you safely tucked into your transport — but he lingered. 

“Nothing in the world is single; all things by a law divine in one another's being mingle. Why not I with thine?” Ezra read, the words falling from his tongue with a richness that your mind had never been able to give them. 

“Shelley?” You questioned, tilting your head to try to get a look at the book he was holding. 

“Indeed.” He closed the book and held it to his chest. “Our dear friend Percy had quite a way with words. Overshadowed — and rightfully so — by his beloved wife.” 

“I haven’t been able to get my hands on Frankenstein. Not since I was maybe fourteen.” You admitted. 

Ezra snapped his fingers, “You should’ve spoken up, little lamb. Mary has kept me company on many lonely nights.”

“I will part with Percy,” You told him, hobbling towards him on your wounded leg. “But only if you are willing to part with Mary.” 

He hummed thoughtfully, still clutching the book to his chest. “I will have to consult with her.” Ezra told you with a soft smile, “I have no doubt that she is as tired of my company as anyone would be.” 

You reached out and covered his hand with yours, “I will let you reunite the couple for just one night. But you have to promise me that you’ll bring me Frankenstein.”

Ezra’s gaze lowered to where your hand was on his, a faint color rising in his cheeks. “Promise me you’ll leave once books have been exchanged.” He covered your hand with his other hand, squeezing gently. “If you stay, I won’t be able to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

“Me.” Ezra breathed out, his dark eyes setting on yours. “I will bring you lunaxium that you can take back to whomever hired you. Warn them from this place and forget it.” 

“It’s not that simple.” You found yourself leaning into him for support, “I have to complete testing and analysis. Reports. I can’t just take back a lump of lunaxium and hope for the best.”

A growl like sound rose up in the back of his throat, “Then I’ll do the reports for you. I know more than I ever cared to know of lunaxium and this godsforsaken rock. You are not to venture beyond this transport.”

You pulled your hand away from his, “I’ll do as I please, thank you.” 

Ezra gritted his teeth, “Do you have a death wish? Now isn’t the time for obstinance. Not this close to a full moon.” 

You blinked at him, “Are you…?”

His expression faltered, fingers twitching against the book before he held it out to you, “Keep it and leave tonight. Please.” 

“No.” You shook your head, “I want to know.” 

“Among these stories,” He gestured to your shelf of books, “I’m afraid it’s an unimpressive tale.”

“I’m always looking to hear new stories.” You told him, grimacing as you put too much weight down on your leg. “Shit.”

“Please sit,” Ezra urged, moving swiftly to curl his arm around your waist as he guided you towards the makeshift sofa you’d made from a weapon crate and oversized pillows. 

He sank down onto the opposite end, hands covering his face as he let out a heavy sigh. “Five years ago, I was just like you. Starry-eyed, devil-may-care.”

“Is that how you see me?”

“Yes.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “I came here looking for lunaxium like every ill-fated prospector before me. The rumors, the legend, the myth — they made for a tantalizing adventure.” His expression sobered as he stared straight ahead. “It’s painful. Muscles tear, bones shatter, skin stretches.”

Your heart clenched and your stomach roiled at the thought. 

“They say the first was a corruption. There are wolves among us, lurking beyond the trees — fearful in their own right of what looms above them. Someone played with fate and made a monster that even Shelley couldn’t have imagined. Lunaxium has no effect on humans, but it calms the beast for awhile.”

Without even thinking about it, you carefully shifted onto your good knee, letting your leg rest over the side of the sofa as you leaned towards Ezra. “This scar.” You said as you gingerly brushed your fingers over the back of his neck. 

He tensed, fingers clenching and unclenching in his lap. “I was attacked on my second night here.” He confessed, exhaling slowly. “Forgive me, little lamb. It has been a right smart spell since I have felt another’s touch.”

“You shouldn’t have to live like that, Ezra.” You whispered, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Isolating yourself… Maybe there’s a cure.”

“I can’t leave Lykaois.” He admitted, closing his eyes as he relaxed under the gentle touch of your fingers. “We’re reliant on the lunaxium and whatever this moon is cursed with. I would go mad.”

“Has anyone ever tried to leave?”

“There are stories.” Ezra turned to look at you. “I appreciate your offer. If it weren’t for what I’ve become, I would accept it without hesitation. But I would rather perish in the solitude of my transport than lose my mind somewhere among the stars.”

You trailed your fingers from his hair, along the curve of his jaw. “I could come back.”

“And put yourself in danger twice over?”

“I put myself in danger every time I venture out on a harvest with a ragtag team that might turn their weapons on me. Life is a risk, Ezra.” You held his gaze as you brushed your thumb over his bottom lip. “I can be your connection to the world you’ve lost. Name it, anything — I’ll bring it back here to you.”

“It’s dangerous.” Ezra seemed compelled by the offer. “The others… they’ve been here long enough to lose what’s left of their humanity.”

“Then protect me.” You brushed your fingers through the hair that fell against his forehead. 

“There’s so much I miss,” He admitted, his expression matching the way his voice broke as he held your gaze. “Five years… it’s a lifetime to spend alone.” He curled his fingers around your hand, rubbing his thumb against the center of your palm. “I don’t want you to risk yourself for me.” 

“I’m not afraid.” You told him, and as foolish as it was — you weren’t. 

Ezra’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips and your breath caught somewhere in the back of your throat when he started to lean towards you.  

He wasn’t the only one who had gone years without knowing a lover’s touch. You played things close to the chest, avoided anything that could ensnare you — except for him. 

For all of his warm charm, there was an underlying current of danger that had you feeling like a moth to the flame. He was a monster. A creature made from a curse you hadn’t even believed in.  

“Ezra.” You breathed out, leaning in until your nose brushed against his. 

He petted his fingers over your cheek as his breath mingled with yours, “You’re hurt.” 

“It’s just my leg.” Your lips were a hair’s breadth away from his, “I think we both need this.” 

Ezra curled his fingers around the back of your head as his lips crashed against yours. You groaned against his lips and his tongue took the opportunity to slip into your mouth, curling against yours. 

He kissed like a man possessed, desperate and all consuming. He hauled you into his lap like you weighed nothing, his hands clawing at your back, your ass, your arms — anywhere he could reach. 

He was starved for a connection like this. You had sensed it in the way he gravitated towards you, the way he lingered, the gentle touches as he mended your leg. 

You hissed softly as you shifted your weight in his lap, trying not to put pressure on your leg, but it was hard not to in that position. 

Ezra cupped your cheek, drawing your focus to his face as his other hand curled tight around your hip. “Do you trust me, little lamb?” He questioned, waiting until you nodded before he started to guide you back lengthways on the sofa. 

You scraped your fingernails over his scalp as you slid your fingers through his hair. His knee slotted in between your thighs as he draped himself over you. 

Greedy hands grabbed at the back of his shirt, pulling it up to reveal new skin to touch. He was touch starved. Every brush of your fingers against his untouched skin made him rut against your thigh. 

Ezra’s mouth worked down the column of your throat, teeth lightly scraping as his tongue darted out to taste your skin. His own hands sliding under your shirt, skimming over your ribs. 

You’d missed the feeling of large, rough hands against your skin. It had been more than a few cycles since you’d fallen into bed with a man. A year, maybe two, since you’d been with anyone at all. 

“Ezra.” You breathed out as his mouth moved over your covered breast, his tongue seeking out your nipple through the soft fabric. 

His eyes snapped to meet yours, pupils blown with arousal as he let out a ragged breath. “I can smell you.” Ezra murmured, his tongue flicking out to tease the peak of your nipple, the fabric darkened from his mouth. “You’re soaked, aren’t you little lamb?” He questioned, a hand wandering down your side, curling around your thigh. 

You felt your chest and cheeks burn with a heady mix of arousal and embarrassment. You were slick. You could feel your underwear clinging to your cunt, desire fueled solely by the man crowded onto the sofa with you. 

“In my bed,” Ezra whispered, untangling the hand you had in his hair. He brought your hand to his lips, inhaling deeply before wrapping his lips around your first two fingers. 

An unabashed moan escaped you, your hips lifting off the sofa as you ground yourself against his knee. You should’ve been ashamed — he had known that you’d tried to put yourself to sleep by burying your face in his pillow and your hand between your thighs. 

Ezra released your fingers with a wet pop, his nostrils flaring as he held your gaze. “You didn’t come, did you? Did la petite mort evade you?” 

“Yes.” You whispered, tracing your dampened fingers over his scruffy cheek. “I was so close, but it wasn’t enough.” 

He smirked at you as he pressed his knee firmly against you. “May I?”

“Please.” You nodded, sinking back against the sofa as Ezra moved down your body. Skilled fingers worked at the fastenings of your pants, peeling the heavy fabric down your thighs before tossing them aside. 

He inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of you, “Sit up, little lamb.” Ezra told you, sinking onto the ground in front of you. “Look at you.” He drawled as your thighs parted, your injured leg draped over his shoulder. 

You gasped quietly as he stroked his thumb over the damp spot on your underwear, barely brushing over your clit — but even that mere touch was enough to make you tremble. 

“Did you think of me?” Ezra questioned, peeling the fabric to the side, sweeping his fingers between your slick folds. 

“Maybe.” You retorted, biting down on your bottom lip as you watched him lick your arousal from his fingers. 

A quiet growl rose up the back of his throat as he leaned in between your thighs. He held your underwear to the side as he lapped at you, his tongue sweeping between your folds. 

Your fingers slid into his hair, grip tightening as he traced the tip of his tongue over your clit. 

“Do you need these?” Ezra mumbled, tugging at your underwear. 

“No. No.” You shook your head, pitching your hips towards him. 

Ezra effortlessly tore away the crotch of your underwear, his mouth descending upon your tender flesh. His tongue delved between your folds, thrusting into your slick core. He grabbed at your thigh, holding you steady as he turned his attention to your clit. 

You cried out as he wrapped his lips around that throbbing bundle of nerves. He sucked lightly at it, swirling his tongue over it as his fingers pressed into your cunt. 

He didn’t let up, his tongue working over your clit as he worked his fingers in and out of you. His fingers were deliciously thick, dragging in and out of you, brushing over that sweet spot within you that made your entire core quake. 

Ezra was good. 

His name was heavy on your tongue as you shattered, your inner walls clenching around his fingers, thighs trapping his face between your legs. 

“I need…” You panted out, breath hitching as he curled his fingers within you. “Fuck!” You shouted, nearly ripping his hair out as you felt a dam break as your vision blurred from the sudden burst of molten desire. Ezra was undeterred, his tongue sweeping up every drop of you. 

“More.” You urged, writhing beneath him. “Ezra, please.” 

“I might hurt you.” Ezra warned you, dragging his hands down your thighs as he nipped at the soft flesh of your inner thigh. “I don’t… I don’t know if I control myself.” 

“Forget about my leg,” You tugged at his hair. “And fuck me.” 

Ezra squeezed your hip and barked out, “On your knees.” 

You waited until he let go of you before you gracelessly flopping over on the sofa, knees planted firmly on the cushion as you grabbed at the metal shaft that made up the back of the sofa. 

“You smell so fucking good like this,” Ezra breathed out, hands sliding over your bare hips as he crowded close to you. “It’s been so long.” He pressed his lips to the back of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. 

“Same.” You laughed breathlessly, reaching behind you to grab at his hair. “I don’t break easy.” 

“You’ve never fucked a werewolf before.” Ezra murmured, curling his fingers loosely around your throat, keeping you pinned back against his chest as his cock slid between your oversensitive folds. “Have you?”

“Not yet.” You gritted out, curling your fingers around his forearm, thankful that he was able to keep you upright. He was strong, but the fingers wrapped around your throat were gentle. 

The head of his cock caught against your entrance and Ezra’s hips bucked forward, pressing into you. 

You moaned, completely caught up in the sensation of his thick cock filling you. The stretch was just this side of too much — especially in this angle. 

Ezra pulled back, his cock nearly slipping from you entirely before slamming back into you. His thrusts were brutal — all that strength and power that was hidden in his wiry build. He was reaching spots no one else had ever hit. 

He released his tight grip on your hip, slipping his hand between your thighs to stroke your aching clit. You clenched around him in response, making him feel even thicker as he drove into you. Again and again. 

Your nails bit into his forearm, leaving crescent moon shapes in his skin as you clung to him. You were so close, perched right on the precipice of another orgasm. 

“Come.” Ezra’s fingers curled around your jaw, his lips close to your ear. “I want to feel you come. The sweet clench of your cunt around my cock.” He mouthed a row of kisses down your neck, growling against the crook of your neck as your body obeyed him. 

He didn’t relent, even as your body pulsed around his cock. “Fuck.” He grunted out, his teeth scraping your skin. 

“Ezra.” You moaned out, your eyes falling closed as you basked in the overwhelming sensation of him fucking into you. 

His grip loosened at your jaw as he started to slide out of you, but you reached behind you, grabbing at his ass — desperately trying to keep him right there. 

Something snapped. Some frayed cord of control that he had been clinging to. 

You grabbed at the back of the sofa for support as he roughly grabbed at your hips. He bottomed out once, twice, three times before he growled out your name and came. 

Ezra curled his arm around your waist, keeping you pinned to him as he rearranged the two of you. He kept the softening length of his cock buried within you as he sank down onto the sofa with you resting back against his chest. 

“You’re very strong,” You mumbled, scratching your nails through the hair on his forearm as you looked down at the arm he had tightly curled around you. 

He huffed, a throaty chuckle escaping him as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. “One perk of this damnable curse.” He brushed his thumb over your stomach gently. 

“Is the sex a perk too?” You questioned, closing your eyes as you leaned back against him. “Because, I’m not sure I want to leave at all now.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Ezra kissed your shoulder. “I’ve kept my distance. From the others.” He sighed heavily. “You don’t want to become like me, little lamb.”

“I never said that I do.” You pointed out. 

“No, I suppose you didn’t.” He shifted beneath you, whispering a quick apology when you whimpered at the movement. 

“I’m okay.” You promised, trailing your fingers up the side of his thigh. “Overwhelmed.”

“Two days.”

“Hmm?”

“You can safely stay for two more days, but then you must leave. It gets harder to maintain this the nearer we draw to the full moon.” Ezra told you, nuzzling at the crook of your neck. 

“Two days.” You agreed solemnly. 

Ezra returned just after nightfall with a stack of research notes and his well-loved copy of Frankenstein. 

“Did you know she dedicated herself to getting her husband’s works published.” You mused, looking up from the notes on lunaxium to watch Ezra as he consumed Percy’s book of poems. 

“Hmm?”

“Mary.” You explained. “As accomplished as she was, she also worked to ensure her husband’s writing would be read.”

“Indeed.” Ezra tucked the red ribbon into the page he was reading and sat it aside. “I believe their romance blossomed on her mother’s grave, no? A rather odd pair.”

“His works are dreadfully romantic, for such a macabre couple.” You pointed out, flipping over another page of notes, copying down a comment on your own notations. 

“The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?” Ezra recited, drumming his fingers against the cover. “I had forgotten that was dear Percy.” He sank back against the wall, pushing fingers through his unruly hair. “I miss the sea.” 

“I’d bring it back in a bottle if I could.” You told him, chewing on your bottom lip. “I meant what I said before. I can come back.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, moonbeam.” He let the word slip off his tongue like it was sugar-sweet. “You will grow bored of the to-and-fro.” He pursed his lips. “Though I am much appreciative of the offer. You should go back to your friends.” 

“I have one friend in this galaxy Ezra and oftentimes I’m certain they want to ring my neck.” You shook your head. “You deserve to have a friend too.” 

“I will never be able to leave,” He reminded you. “And you can never stay.”

“There’s still an in-between.” Your brows rose hopefully. “A new moon, perhaps? When the moon is there, but not visible.”

“You’re persistent.”

“I’ve been told that before.” You smirked a little. “What would you like me to bring back when I return after the full moon?”

Ezra exhaled heavily, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I would be forever indebted to you if you might get your hands on a copy of War & Peace. Dreadfully long, but I hunger for some longevity in my literature.”

“Done.” 

He snapped his fingers, “Cheese.” 

You arched a brow. “I have cheese.”

“Real cheese?” Ezra corrected. “That wretched aero cheese is nauseating.” He blanched, watching you as you rose from your seat. 

You hobbled out of the room, into the corridor where the hyperfreeze unit was mounted in the interior wall beside the coolant system. You returned moments later with a block of Reggianito. 

“You’re in luck.” You said, sinking down onto the floor beside him. “I have a hook-up on Sector Block G7.” 

Ezra broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth, sinking back against the wall with a satisfied moan. “It will be safe for you to return in a fortnight.” 

You slapped his leg playfully, “You’ll let me return if I bring cheese?”

He grinned and continued. “If you come then, you’ll have a fortnight to stay, should you choose to.” 

“That should give me enough time to find War & Peace for you and settle my debts.” 

Ezra took another bite of cheese, before passing it back to you. “Do they still make those honeysticks?” He questioned. “Little tubes with honey collected from…” He squinted, “I can’t remember the planet.”

“I can look.” You wrapped the cheese back in the cloth, before sitting it aside. “How will you be when I return?” You questioned. 

“A little worse for wear,” Ezra shrugged a shoulder, resting his hand on your thigh. “The lunaxium helps.”

“Is it… is it like a drug?”

“I suppose.” Ezra dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “There’s this hunger,” He explained, knocking his fist against his sternum. “This clawing sensation. It gets worse closer to the full moon. I lose my mind.” He shook his head. “I tried to wean myself off two years ago. Just to feel something.”

“What happened?” You rested your hand over his. 

“It triggered the beast.” He answered with a frown. “Middle of the cycle and violent.” Ezra tilted his head to look at you. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t.” You shook your head slowly, interlacing your fingers with his. “Maybe this will be good for you. Help you keep your humanity.”

“How so?”

“The others, the ones that were already here.” Your brows furrowed together as you turned to stare at him, “Did they lose their humanity because they lost touch with other humans?”

Ezra blinked, “You, moonbeam, are a clever one.”

“I read a lot.” You smiled at him, “And you’re  in luck — I have always loved monster stories.”

[mochegato]

Pixie Spy

Chapter 5

Chapter 1    Chapter 4

Marinette laid on Nino’s living room floor studying the stolen Grimoire files on her tablet.  She had been staring at the same page for the last two hours, making little progress.  Just because she could translate the ancient text, it didn’t mean it was easy or quick.  In fact, it was headache inducing and with Adrien focusing on keeping them caught up on homework while she and Chloe were otherwise occupied, she was translating alone.  She knew there were amazing secrets held in the texts, the drawings promised amazing new powers for each of the miraculous, she just needed to decode them.  

She scrunched her eyes closed and rubbed them to clear her vision that had started crossing.  Now, she decided, was a perfect time to take a break.  She looked around the room for a distraction. Adrien was near her on the floor, leaning against the couch and working on the physics assignment they had received that day, having already finished the calculus assignment.  Alya, having already passed her research onto Chloe, was on the couch working on the French Lit homework. Nino was sprawled out on the couch with his feet propped up on Alya’s lap, not working on anything, staring off into space with a furrowed brow instead.  

Everyone was working quietly except for Chloe who was making her discontent with her surroundings abundantly clear through her frequent huffs and exaggerated movements.  She was sitting in a chair making notes in a notebook referencing her laptop occasionally.  She huffed and wiggled uncomfortably in the chair, “Tell me again why we have to do this here?” Chloe demanded, not bothering to mask her disgust with the middle class surroundings.

“We can’t meet in the hotel because we can’t take the chance the Waynes would see Marinette walking in the lobby or the hallway. We can’t meet at Adrien’s place because Asshole Dad.  We can’t meet at Marinette’s in case they’ve made her already.  That leaves my place or here and my place has the twins who are currently both grounded and bored so… that leaves here.” Alya explained calmly, not bothering to look up from her homework.

“Yeah, yeah, but couldn’t we have met at like a nice café or pub?” Chloe whined, rubbing her arms as though contact with the chair fabric were scratching her.

“And take the texts outside?” Adrien asked with a raised brow motioning toward Marinette.

“Plus until we know how much they know, it is probably best I’m not seen out more than absolutely necessary, hence the…” she indicated the oversized hoodie she had stolen from Kim some time ago she had been wearing all day, mostly with her hood up, completely enveloping her head.

“I thought that was so you could hide from Laurence…” Alya said with a sly grin.

“Or Noelle,” Adrien threw in.

“Or Ignace…” Chloe added, keeping her focus on her laptop.

“Okay stop.  Really, Chloe?  Wouldn’t you much rather talk about the throngs of people throwing themselves at you?” Marinette attempted to divert her to one of her favorite topics, herself.

“Oh sweetie, we don’t have that kind of time.” Chloe said throwing her ponytail over her shoulder.  “We’re just talking about the ten or twenty we know about willing to let you tie them up and beat them like a piñata then thank you for the privilege.”

“That sounds like a regular Saturday night for you, Chlo,” Alya grinned.

“I…I don’t know how to react to that.” Marinette scrunched her face in confusion.  “My first inclination is to say she’s exaggerating, but it’s Chloe and if anything she would underplay it.  Plus I am extremely not happy with that little insight into Chloe’s bedroom, so… I’m going to ignore this entire conversation.” Marinette said turning back to her tablet.

Adrien looked up from his notes for a few moments staring in thought at nothing, “Valid,” he nodded, turning back to his work as well.

Nino had stayed silent throughout the conversation staring instead unfocused at a spot on the floor for the past few minutes. Adrien glanced back at him with curiosity.  “Hey,” he smacked his hand into Nino’s leg, “you okay there?  You completely missed us teasing Marinette about her fans. That’s one of your favorite topics.”

“Ahhh, Laurence… yeah, that dude makes me nervous. Michel is cute though.  I could see that.” Marinette gave an affronted squawk. Nino continued without acknowledging her, “No, I was just thinking… we know Batman’s secret identity.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said uncertainly.

“And he doesn’t know ours.” Nino continued.

“Right,” Adrien encouraged still not sure where the conversation was going.

“And we have you and Chloe, both pretty famous and could easily end up at a party or event with at least one of them…” Nino mused thinking out loud.

“True.”

“So… how much can we mess with him about it without getting killed?” Nino asked raising his brow with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Dude!” Adrien exclaimed excitedly, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

“You want us to prank the Dark Knight?” Alya looked at him like he was crazy.

“Really?” Marinette deadpanned.

“Yeah, you’re right.  It is potentially fraught with danger.  We might need to bring Alix and Max in on this.” Nino nodded still thinking about how he could manage it.

Alya dropped her head into her hands, “Idiot.” She muttered shaking her head in her hands, not entirely sure if he was joking or not.  Honestly, either option was possible.

“Well, that makes you two perfect for each other,” Chloe deadpanned still focused on writing something down in her notebook missing the withering look Alya shot her.

“Okay Kim,” Marinette rolled her eyes at Nino.  She looked uncertain for a moment then pushed herself back until she was sitting on her heels and spoke hesitantly, “Or… we could discuss if we are still certain we don’t want the Batfamily here.  Are we sure we don’t want their help?”

“Yes, yes we are,” Alya replied, her voice bordering on disbelief that Marinette would even ask.  “We know what the Justice League is like.  We know what they’ve done and we have a damn good idea what they could do given half the chance.  We gave in on Constantine and look what happened.  We cannot trust them.”

“Think about the last few weeks, Marinette.  Think how much worse they would have been if those people had powers to begin with and understood the extent of their powers, how to push them, how to exploit them.  What to ask for from Hawkmoth to do the most damage?” Nino added.

“The bats don’t have superpowers.” Marinette defended.

“But they work with people who do.  They have strategized attack plans around people who have powers. They understand them and what’s most effective…” Chloe added barely looking up from her notepad.

“And they are incredibly well trained in combat and strategic planning… It would be hard enough without them having super powers. With them, we would be fucked.” Adrien added cutting in on Chloe’s statement.

“We are barely keeping up as it is.  If one of the bats of Justice League were to get akumatized…” Nino let the statement trail off, allowing everyone to use their imagination to fill in the rest.

“Exactly!  We are barely keeping up.  Do we need to consider getting help?  From someone with more experience and different skills?  From someone with experience using superpowers against an opponent?” Marinette ran a hand over her face, “I’m just… I’m getting scared. And I don’t know if that is because I’m seeing a pattern or if I’m just frustrated with where we are and desperate for any change.  And the more distance I have from it, the more I wonder if Constantine was right.  Is it time to bring someone in, but we’re just too scared to try something different?”

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by a banal, obvious statement,” she glared at Adrien, “they have a good understanding of powers, their strengths and weaknesses, and how to strategize around them, which would make them powerful akumas, or incredibly advantageous assets against an akuma.”  Everyone stared at her in surprise.  “Stunned looks terrible on you.” She said making clear she was directing it to all of them.  “The silent awe of me is appropriate though.” She said sitting back in her chair only to immediately grunt and start squirming against the fabric again.

“It isn’t just the powers, I don’t trust them, especially Batman.  If we give them half the chance, I’m afraid they will try to take the miraculous because they think they could wield them and protect them better.” Adrien admitted.  

The group took a second to let both sides of the argument sink in, unsure how to move forward.  Both outcomes could lead to horrific outcomes that nobody wanted to allow. They were all afraid and they knew they were, but like Marinette, they didn’t know if the fear was holding them back from making a mistake or from having a breakthrough.

After a few moments of quiet, Nino broke the quiet in a soothing voice, “We have no way to know which way things will tilt.  Let’s see what we get from the files and reassess then. No reason to introduce more chaos until we know what we have to work with already.  Have you found anything yet?”

“A bit.  Ugh,” she said accepting the change of topic and looking at her notebook with disgust, “this would be so much easier if the kwamis could just tell us all the possible uses of the miraculous were and the ways they could be combined.”

“Yeah, but then Hawkmoth would have known too… and Mayura and Argus.” Tikki pointed out.

“That’s a horrifying thought.  I don’t think we could have taken Hawkmoth and Mayura when we started if they had known all their options.” Adrien shuttered thinking about it.

“That’s why they created the rule that kwami could only tell the very basic powers and responsibilities.  Anything more than that can only come from the Order, so if anyone stole a miraculous, they wouldn’t be able to effectively wield it, making it easier for trained wielders to get it back.”  Trixx said.

“A bit more effective back when there was an Order and masters who actually trained wielders, but you know, times change,” Plagg shrugged with a thinly disguised disgust.

“Okay but let me just say not having known this,” Marinette turned the tablet around for them to see the image of the dragon miraculous she had been studying, “was an option is extremely upsetting.”

“Dibs!” Nino called out, jumping up from the couch before anyone else could call it.

“Fuck you, I saw it first.  I’ve got dibs.  I’ve got plans for it.”  Marinette blew him off.

“No way, you’re going to see all of them first.” Nino pouted.

Marinette grinned at him, “Guardian” she singsonged.  

Trixx floated up closer to the tablet.  “Oh that one.  Yeah, everyone likes that one.  It’s actually just a variation of the power you know already so it is a lot easier to pick up than it looks.”

Plagg floated next to her to check it out too.  “If you like that one, just wait until you find out about…” his sentence was cut off by an overflow of green bubbles falling out of his mouth, causing him to glare at nothing and everything at the same time.

“Okay enough of that.  My turn.” Chloe announced turning her laptop to display pictures of each of the Waynes and their alter egos.

Adrien leaned forward to get a closer look at the images and suddenly his eyes got huge and he gasped, “Oh my God… in the name of all that is holy and good in this world, please tell me the one in the godawful, Red Skull wannabe mask is the one you were making heart eyes at all night.  Please, please, please…” Adrien begged Marinette.

Marinette refused to meet his eyes and pursed her lips, focusing intently on the laptop.  “No comment.”

“It is him! Can I please, please be there when you ‘discuss’ that mask with him before we kick him out?” Adrien said shaking with delight at the thought of it.

Marinette glared at him, “We are going to be focusing on getting them out of Paris without drawing further curiosity or ire, not their wardrobe.” She pointed out turning to Chloe with an expectant look trying to prompt her to continue but couldn’t stop herself from whipping back toward Adrien, “And, I don’t even know if he was even interested in me at all.  It’s far more likely they are concerned about the situation than he is about getting a date.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, “You’re not that stupid, Dupain-Cheng. The honeypotting wouldn’t have worked if he wasn’t interested.”

“I did NOT honeypot him…. And I still don’t know what that means!” Marinette yelled exasperated.

“Yeah, yeah.  But I get to be there right?” Adrien implored ignoring her annoyance and still not giving her a definition.  At this point, it was a matter of pride… or comedy.  Either way, he was dedicated to never telling her what it meant.

“Oooooo and me too,” Alya jumped in.

“You should just leave your com on so we can all hear.” Chloe commented with feigned disinterest.

“We should put it on speaker.  The kwamis will want to hear it too.” Nino agreed with a grin.

“I hate all of you,” Marinette grumbled crossing her arms in front of her as she pouted.

Adrien chuckled at her before putting her out of her misery, “Okay, Chlo.  What did you figure out?”

“So, I focused on Bruce Wayne, Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne.  I couldn’t get an identity on Spoiler and there is no public information on Cassandra Cain, who is probably Batgirl, so I could only look at her vigilante work.  But if Constantine is right, they are both still in Shanghai.  It is unlikely they would have brought them in just to talk with us.  So for tonight, they don’t matter.”  Chloe explained before continuing with her analysis.

“The rest of the Wayne family are a treasure trove of insecurities, pressure points, and triggers.  I’m just going to go over the biggest ones since we hopefully will only have to deal with them for a few minutes at the most.  These unstable assholes are definitely Hawkmoth’s wet dream. Extremely well trained and no control over their emotions.  All have extreme versions of insecurity complexes, but react differently.

“Bruce Thomas Wayne is a control freak.  His public persona isn’t much help.  As far as I can tell, most of it is a mask.  He pretends to be a drunk, irresponsible, billionaire playboy but we know he’s Batman so all that is bullshit.  What isn’t is that he is a good negotiator and actor, all of which means he can be a good manipulator and we know from his experience as Batman that he is extremely strategic.  Be suspect of anything he tells you.  His intentions appear to stem from a genuine concern with making lives better, but how much he is willing to listen to other people’s opinion of what constitutes better is questionable, especially after what we know of the Justice League’s actions. He has a history of enforcing his vision onto other people, whether they want it or not, of taking control.  He needs to be in control, or feel like he is so he can prepare for what is coming and make sure it doesn’t turn against him.

“The oldest, Richard John Grayson, has a martyr complex.  He’s so devoted to the saving people thing he became a cop in his civilian life as well, by all accounts an uncorrupt one, and that’s saying something in Gotham and Blüdhaven.  Takes on too much at one time trying to fix everything and feels responsible for every bad thing that happens, even if he wasn’t there… especially if he wasn’t there, to stop it.  If he only would have done whatever, then the bad thing wouldn’t have happened.  If only he was better, blah, blah, blah. Sound familiar?” she looks pointedly at Marinette.  “That’s his weakest spot.  He takes the blame.

“The next, Jason Peter Todd has abandonment issues.  He’s constantly waiting for people to walk away from him like his parents did.  There is something more there, I know there is, like whatever happened when he disappeared for a few years, but we don’t have access to that information. Ridiculously protective of kids on the street, I think because he essentially grew up on them himself. But, here’s the catch, he became a crime lord in order to protect them.  He is willing to go dark to protect people, so they never have to feel like he did and never have to do what he had to do.  He’s straightforward and aggressive.  He feels like everyone is going to walk away from him because he isn’t enough for them to stay.  He’s dangerous.

“The next, Timothy Jackson Drake has inadequacy issues. Wealthy, absentee parents who likely never treated him like anything more than a business asset.” She looked sympathetically at Adrien.  “He is a certified genius.  Started running Wayne Enterprises a few years ago.  He likes a challenge and is an incredible negotiator.  He likes working things out on his own.  He’s smart and curious.  He knows exactly what to ask in order to get the information he needs without you even knowing that’s what he did.  Be careful answering any questions or reacting to any statements from him.  He is constantly trying to prove himself so people will love him.  He takes any failure extremely personally because it means he doesn’t deserve love and a reminder that he isn’t who he thought he was and therefore not worthy.

“The youngest, Damian Wayne, known as the Ice Prince in Gotham, has a superiority complex.  Nobody gets close to him and nobody wants to.  He showed up in Gotham at age 10 with a fully-fledged attitude.  Everyone and everything is beneath him.  He also drives himself to extremes in order to confirm his superiority.  He insults and belittles others because he believes he should be superior to everyone around him, but he is afraid he isn’t and if he isn’t better, then he is significantly worse.”

The rest of the room looked at her sympathetically.  They all knew she wasn’t just talking about Damian. That was her up until a few years ago. She needed to believe she was better than everyone else and needed everyone around her to believe it too.  If she was better then she deserved her parents’ love.  If she had everyone else’s love, it made it easier to fool herself into believing her parents loved her as well, or blunt the feeling when she would realize just how much they didn’t.  But years of therapy, a higher purpose, and real friends that truly wanted the best for her but refused to take any shit from her, made her realize she didn’t need to be that person to deserve love.

“Also keep in mind there are likely significant trust issues going on here.” Chloe continued ignoring the looks from the rest of the room.  “There are a lot of reports of violence between Red Hood and Red Robin, Red Hood and Robin, Red Hood and… everyone actually, as well as Robin and Red Robin.  Based on fact that violence is higher immediately after a changing of the guard, I’d say the passing of the mantle from one Robin to another has never been consensual and likely contributed to their complexes.  They are held together by the thinnest of threads.  We can snap that if we need to… but I don’t think we want to go that far.  If we snap that… I don’t know how much damage that will do or if they will come back from it.” She cautioned hesitantly.

“Agreed.  I don’t want to go there.  There is plenty to use without going into the family issues, without causing irreparable damage.” Marinette concurred.  They didn’t want the Bat family in Paris but they didn’t want to destroy them either. She wasn’t willing to let herself or her team become monsters in order to stop them.  At the end of the day, they were ultimately all on the same team, they all wanted the same outcome, they just had different ways they wanted to get there… and different ideas about who got to decide that… and who should lead it…

“God these people need a hug not whatever that ‘family’ of theirs is providing each other.” Nino said aghast at the report.

“Marinette’s already on top of that, at least for one of them…” Alya smirked.

“Fuck you, bitch.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at her.

“I’m on top of that one,” Nino grinned, raising his hand.

“Oh God.  Seriously we need to investigate that brain bleach thing,” Marinette groaned squeezing her eyes shut trying to keep that image from appearing.

“Okay,” Adrien announced over everyone, “we all agree after this whole Hawkmoth thing is over, I get to kick Constantine’s ass and we all portal over to the Batcave and hug the insecure, unfairly cute, prickly, little echidnas until they feel better, right?” Adrien asked solemnly.

“Ugh, fine but I’m not hugging the gremlin.  Someone else gets that one,” Chloe called out throwing out her arms.

The room stilled as everyone else looked at each other, “Not it!” they all called at almost the exact same moment.

“Damn it,” Nino cried as he realized he had been a few seconds slower than everyone else.

“That’s what you get for being a turtle.  When the confrontation happens, I got the pampered rich kid.”  Chloe announced.  This was her area.  She knew just where to push kids like that, like her.  She knew exactly what to say to get them, her, to hit them at their most vulnerable.  To push just enough to make an impact without breaking them.

“No, Chloe.  We don’t want to tip our hand and we need you guys to stand sentry.  I want you, Alya, and Nino to hang back acting as scouts. This is likely to go bad and I need you guys in a triangular formation a block out watching for akumas.  Adrien and I will talk to them.”

“Alone?” Nino asked tentatively.  His job was to protect.  He didn’t like the idea of not being close enough to act if they should need it.

“They aren’t going to attack us, at least not physically.  And we will take an extra miraculous each.” Marinette smiled gently to placate him.

“Are you sure two is enough, m’lady?” Adrien asked curiously.

“You sure you aren’t just trying to keep it a bit more intimate for you and your boy?” Alya waggled her eyebrows.

Marinette glared at her, “Two should be enough.” She said ignoring the previous statement, “Combined with your two, we should be able to cover what we need to. It’s just the Batfamily.  We should be able to handle them with just one each even if they wanted to attack us.” She grinned at Adrien.  “Magic, gotta love it.”  

“Okay but when he calls you incompetent, which he will, you need to push back.  Point out the ways he’s failed.  He isn’t better than us, no matter what he thinks and the sooner you make him realize that, the sooner the real conversation can start.” Chloe warned.

“He is all of, what, 13?  We are not going to try to emotionally damage a child.” Nino stated flatly.

“As long as he thinks he is better than us, he won’t take us seriously.” Chloe warned.  Nino just glared back at her, not willing to give in on this.  “Fine, if you don’t want to point out his failings, then point out the most impressive things we’ve done that they haven’t.  That should suffice.  Not as effective, but it should get you there.”

“Okay, if we’re going to start discussing strategy, we’re going to need some sustenance.  Let’s get dinner ready so we can start discussing the plan for tonight,” Alya said throwing Nino’s legs off her lap.  Marinette and Nino followed her to the kitchen leaving Chloe and Adrien behind.

“You know, I noticed something with your analysis, Chloe,” Adrien started quietly keeping his eyes on their friends.

“I would hope you noticed more than just one thing,” Chloe chided him.

“Cute,” he said rolling his eyes, “Jason was the only one you said was dangerous, why is that?  

“I thought it was obvious?  The others have a limit.  I don’t know that he does.  And Marinette likes him, a lot.  He has a power to hurt her that the others don’t.  And they are very different.  They are both willing to go as far as necessary to help others, but to her that means killing herself, to him that means killing everyone else and himself,” She looked at him uncertainly, “and I’m not sure how she will react to that.”

“You think he would do that if we let him stay here?”

“I don’t know enough about him to predict what he will do.  He dialed it back to work with the bats again but… There really isn’t that much on him. I can tell you what Red Hood has done and that is bad, but not Jason Todd.  Since he disappeared, presumed dead, hell maybe he was, who knows what happens in Gotham, there is nothing on Jason Todd.  If you want me to try to predict, you can hop on down to Africa and see if you can borrow the kwami of prediction.  Until then, it’s all guesswork.  I need to see him.  See how he acts before I could even try.”

He stared at her for a few seconds a look of utter confusion on his face, “You think the kwami of prediction is in Africa?”

“Do you ever hear any miraculous related shit doing down in Africa?” she fixed him with a knowing stare.

“No,” he said cautiously

“Exactly, because they know what’s coming and they do their fucking jobs.” She winked at him and walked away.

<><><><><> 

Bruce, Jason, Tim, and Damian sat in the living area of Bruce’s hotel room in various states of suited up for the night.  They had barely had time to throw their bags in their rooms before meeting up to prepare for the night.  Damian was completely dressed and ready to go on a moment’s notice, as always more than ready to focus on business.  Bruce and Tim were in everything but their masks, choosing comfort until they had to leave.  Jason was sitting in a large chair in just his pants and shirt, attempting to look relaxed and nonchalant about them being so close to the girl he met at the gala. They were all staring at a massive screen linking them to Dick, Alfred, and Selina in the Batcave.  

“So, how’s Paris, boys?” Selina asked from her position lounging in one of the chairs.  “Meet any interesting people yet?  Jason?”  She added with a smirk.

“You know Bruce, all work and no play.  We haven’t gotten a chance to get out and meet anyone.  Doing this instead.” Jason shrugged with a practiced indifference, forcing himself to recline further back into the chair in an effort to seem casual.  

“Haven’t even gotten to see the Eiffel Tower yet?” She asked in mock sympathy.

“Oh, no, we saw it… from the plane.” Jason played along.

“You really should make sure to visit the Eiffel Tower while there, Master Bruce.”  Alfred threw in trying to downplay his amused smile.

“It’s not as impressive as you think it will be,” Tim muttered to nobody in particular.

“We’re here for a reason, Jason.  If we don’t want to lose today, we need to get started immediately…”  Bruce admonished him but upon looking up and seeing Alfred’s unimpressed look added, “We can get lunch near the Eiffel Tower tomorrow.  Better?” He looked to Alfred who switched to small smile instead.  Taking that as approval, Bruce nodded to Tim indicating they were ready for him to start his presentation.

Tim nodded to Bruce and moved to the front of the group and pulled up an image from the Ladyblog displaying five superheroes and their names on half of the screen.  “I’ve found a few local resources on the heroes we couldn’t see back home and have downloaded their contents and sent them back to you guys,” he said nodding toward the half of the screen displaying the cave, “so you can look through the information as well.  I’m not sure what is preventing the data from being accessible from America, but I suspect magic.” He glared at the screen like it personally offended him, “I hate magic.

“I’ve only had about 30 minutes to prepare so this is going to be brief.  I mainly focused on… well actually I mainly focused on figuring out the best resources for information, downloading copies of the site content, and sending a copy back to the batcomputer.  But after that, I mainly focused on figuring out who the heroes are so we know who we might run into and who to look for tonight.  

“The available information indicates a villain named Hawkmoth appeared in Paris roughly five years ago…”

“Huh. Where have I heard that before?” Jason muttered from his seat.

“… and the heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared at the same time.” Tim continued a bit louder this time.  “There appear to be five regular heroes and a few heroes that appear from time to time. Here are images of the heroes we know about,” he nodded to the image on the screen.  He switched briefly to another image displaying the lesser known heroes before returning to the image of the main five heroes.  “Not every battle is caught on camera and of the battles that are caught, most of the actual fighting is not caught, making it easy to miss heroes and villains in the fight.  The resources make it clear there likely are more heroes that we don’t know about, which I would say is a definite since your girlfriend didn’t appear on any of the sites.” He nodded toward Jason who just huffed and crossed his arms in response, not willing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“The primary heroes are Ladybug and Chat Noir, with Ladybug as the leader.  Those are the two we need to convince if we want any information.  We know a few identities of past heroes, including a girl who lives in this hotel, Chloe Bourgeois.  She was a bee themed heroine named Queen Bee.  Since then another bee themed heroine has appeared and is one of the 5 regulars.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at the screen, “It looks like the same person.  Could it be her in a different costume?”

“I don’t think so,” Tim answered shaking his head, “When I was looking at her page on the sites I think I saw that she has been seen at the same time as the new bee hero.  I can analyze it more when I get more time, but the local experts don’t appear to think they are.  We don’t know the identity of the new bee.”

“You think they look similar?” Dick asked incredulously.  “You’re crazy.  Their costume, hair color, eye color, height, everything is different.”  Jason looked between Dick and the image of the two bee wielders a few times.  One of them was crazy, he just wasn’t sure which one of them it was.

“Figure out where she lives then you should arrange to run into her tomorrow.” Bruce said nodding toward Tim.

Tim gave a single nod to Bruce accepting the assignment.  “There seems to have been a massive overhaul of heroes about a year into the fight.  All of the heroes except Ladybug and Chat Noir were replaced with new heroes.  No explanation was given… or maybe there is one I just haven’t found it yet.”

Damian scoffed, “There’s one villain and five or more heroes and they haven’t been able to take him down?  Pathetic. These are the people entrusted with objects capable to destroying the world?”

“I haven’t been able to get much information yet so we don’t know exactly what is going on but it looks like there is more than just Hawkmoth.  He might be a leader or mastermind behind the villains.  I’ve seen at least a few other villain names mentioned when looking up the heroes.”

“Do we think they all have a miraculous as well?” Dick asked.

“Not sure.  I haven’t gotten that far yet, but it stands to reason.” Tim nodded absentmindedly.

Jason moved closer to the screen staring intently at the pictures of Ladybug from different years.  There was something familiar about her but there was something else sitting on the edge of his consciousness, he just needed to figure out what his subconscious was trying to tell him.  His eyebrows furrowed and he narrowed his eyes trying to block out anything but the images.  His eyes widened as the realization suddenly hit him, “Mother fucker!”  He whipped around to Tim, “Do we have any indication of how old these heroes are?  They look like babies in those older pictures.”

Tim shrugged, “Haven’t gotten that far yet so, not sure.  But I glanced at a section on Ladybug and Chat Noir throughout history so at least for them, somewhere between 5 and 5000.  I should have a better idea tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to read a bit more.”  He squinted at the pictures, “You think they look young?”

“You don’t?” Jason asked incredulously.

Damian examined the images a bit harder as well.  “They do seem around my age in the first images.”

“Really?  I’m with Tim, I can’t tell either.  I can’t get a good feel for age when I look at the pictures.” Dick’s voice came over the speaker.  “That’s strange.  Their faces are at least partially exposed.  I should be able to get an idea at least.” He paused for a few seconds. “Do you think the magic is helping conceal their identities as well?”

Tim stared at the images as well, moving slowly closer to them, “Maybe,” he nodded subconsciously, “I can’t get a feel either.  The longer I stare at them the harder it is to tell anything.”

“Magic.” Bruce shook his head in disgust.  “Anything else to tell us tonight, Tim?”

Tim shook his head “Not today.  I’ll have more tomorrow.”

Bruce nodded a thanks and switched places with Tim.  Damian scowled at Tim and moved to put some distance between him and Tim.  Tim fought off rolling his eyes in annoyance, but only just managed it.  Bruce turned to the rest of the team, “Okay, as soon as we are done here, we’ll start scouting the city to see if we can make contact. We are not looking to be too subtle with this.  We want them to know we are here.  If you catch sight of them, let the rest of us know we will send someone to talk to them about a meeting later tonight or tomorrow.  I want to make this very clear.  Our goal today is to meet the local heroes and set up a meeting in the next few days in order to gather more information.   The primary mission is recon.  We have no idea what exactly is going on here or how dangerous it is.  We are not engaging tonight.  We want them to trust us, think we’re on their side, and get as much information out of them as we can, on the situation and the miraculous.”

“If we want them to trust us, we should leave the rabid squirrel here.  Or better yet, send his petty ass home.  He’s only going to cause trouble.” Jason griped, motioning toward Damian.  Tim did roll his eyes this time.  It was a stupid fight to pick.  Damian wasn’t going anywhere.  Damian wanted to come and Bruce gave in.  They were just on containment duty now, trying to minimize the damage Damian would do.

“You’ve made your feelings more than abundantly clear on the matter, Little Wing, frequently.  Damian is there now.  Deal with it.” Dick reprimanded him, tired of this conversation. Jason hadn’t gotten his way in their discussion in the Batcave.  He hadn’t gotten his way discussing it the next day.  He hadn’t gotten his way in the car on the way to the airport or boarding the plane or on the plane or deplaning or while checking into the hotel, he wasn’t going to get Damian kicked off the mission now.

“Someone needs to be there to make sure you don’t tell them all our secrets trying to impress some vapid, philistine harpy.” Damian snapped turning his back to Jason.  

It was a small miscalculation, but in this family that is all that is needed. By moving away from Tim, he had placed himself close to Jason and by turning, he had left himself open to Jason’s much longer arm reach.  Jason grabbed Damian’s cape and yanked back sharply.  “Watch your mouth, you puerile, creepy, little shit.”  Damian let out a startled grunt before landing with a loud thump on the ground.  He growled at Jason and tensed to pounce on him.

“Jason!” Bruce admonished moving between the two boys.  “Let’s focus on the mission.”

Jason rolled his eyes.  Of fucking course that would be Bruce’s reaction. “Right. Don’t want to prevent the oncoming disaster if it’s coming from inside the house.” He leaned back in the chair with a huff.  “You want to focus on the mission, Old Man?  Fine.  Coming at them with an almost full team that includes this asshole,” he motioned toward Damian, “doesn’t exactly scream ‘trust us’, does it?  Do we really want everyone to show up to this thing?  Maybe one or two of you should stay in the room.”

“Considering your girlfriend threatened to leave us bloody and broken, more is probably a safer bet.  We probably should have insisted on Dick coming as well, maybe have the girls meet us here too.  And do you really want to leave Damian unsupervised?” Tim asked with a raised brow fully facing him.  The only way to attempt to contain Damian at this point was to keep him close and Jason knew it.

“You could stay with him.  We weren’t planning on actually having a discussion tonight anyway.  That way you could get more research done and someone could watch the child.” Jason reasoned. Tim nodded in thought.  Not a bad idea at all.  He would like more time to research before they actually interacted with any of the heroes.  But it came from Jason so there must be something wrong with it.  He just needed to figure out what it was.

Damian growled at the description.  “I am not a child.”

Jason scoffed back at him, “You act like one.”

Damian jumped at him flipping midair and unsheathing his katana, landing with it a few centimeters from Jason’s jugular, “Could a child do that?”

“One just did.” Jason glowered at him, hitting the sword away.

“Jason has a point.” Dick spoke up, breaking the tension.  Damian whipped his head to Dick’s image on the screen his face giving away a flash of hurt before almost immediately schooling his expression into a blank look.

“Did that hurt to say?” Jason asked with a smirk, “It looked like it hurt. That’s okay sometimes the most satisfying things do.”

“Yeah, that’s healthy,” Tim muttered to himself.

Dick rolled his eyes and continued on, ignoring Jason, “Sending so many, especially hostile ones, looks like a power play.  It looks like you’re trying to intimidate them.”

“We are,” Damian snapped at him.

“You aren’t.” Dick corrected him. “You’re trying to get them on your side. You are trying to get them to trust you.  Not scare them.”

“We won’t all show up to meet them.  I’ll take the lead along with Tim.  Jason and Damian will hold back and watch.” Bruce clarified.  “For tonight I want everyone out and about so we can cover more ground and hopefully either run into one of the heroes or make our presence known enough to get their attention for tomorrow.”

“If this” Damian indicated all of them in the room, “is all it takes to scare them, they need our help more than we thought.”

“He didn’t say it would scare them, he said it looks like we are trying to scare them.” Jason responded with a sharp edge to his voice.

“You’re welcome to stay back in the room.” Tim offered annoyed with the conversation.

“I have information I want too” Jason growled at him.

“We are not here to get information on that woman.” Tim rebuked him.

“You aren’t” Jason muttered turning away.

“Jason” Bruce said sternly, “We are here to collect data on the miraculous and the heroes and see how much danger we and the world are in and if something needs to be done.”

“Not get you a date with a girl you don’t know and don’t even know if she is interested.” Tim taunted him.

“This is not about getting a date,” Jason defended himself.

Tim, Dick, and Damian all scoffed in unison while Bruce and Alfred gave Jason a skeptical look.  Selina sat in the background with an amused smile.  Really, the only result she was interested in from this mission was Jason finding his girl.

Jason glared at him before turning to Bruce, “I know what we’re here for…” He wouldn’t turn a date down if it should come up and if he managed to find her, he was definitely going to ask her.  But, his priority was to help her, which meant both finding her and getting information on the miraculous.  If he wanted to achieve both of his goals, he first needed to focus on that the family wanted… for now, so they would be distracted and he could focus on his other mission alone.  “What exactly were you thinking might need to be done?”

“Whatever we have to.” Bruce responded calmly but with steel in his eyes.

Jason furrowed his brows at Bruce.  That explanation was significantly more hostile than the original mission statement.  Not that he was surprised, but Bruce stating it so plainly meant he considered it a higher probability.  “That’s a far cry from the ‘we’re just gathering information’ mission you extolled earlier.” Jason gritted out.

“It’s all related.” Bruce stated.

“Why do you think we’re here, Todd?  We need to figure out if we need to acquire the miraculous and how to do so.” Damian snapped at him.

“You’re planning on taking the miraculous?” Tim rounded on Bruce, his confusion evident, having come to the same conclusion as Jason.  “You said over and over again you didn’t think we needed to worry about the girl that broke into the cave and now you’re planning on stealing their miraculous?”

“We are not going to steal their miraculous!” Jason exclaimed.  What the hell was going on?  He had thought they were making progress.  Bruce agreed to investigate and offer help fight Paris’ villain and now they were planning on taking out the heroes themselves.

“We are going to assess the situation.” Bruce clarified trying to pacify them and bring emotions down to a quiet rumbling rather than a full out roar. Completely content was never an option and Bruce knew it.

“We wouldn’t steal Green Lantern’s ring, we shouldn’t even be thinking about touching theirs.”  Jason yelled.

“We would if he were evil.” Dick reasoned, not at all surprised by the turn of events and long past getting upset when Bruce made plans like these. Bruce liked to be prepared.  The Paris heroes might not ever do anything evil. They might become allies, but that wouldn’t stop Bruce from figuring out their weaknesses and how to take them down should the need arise.

“If they were evil, Constantine wouldn’t be helping them.” Jason argued back, his face starting to turn red, “Not wanting to have you interfere doesn’t make them evil B.” Jason argued back.

“We are not planning on taking anything, but we need to be prepared if things go bad.  We don’t know enough to even begin to guess what could go wrong to cause us to step in. At this stage, we are just trying to get an idea what is going on so we can get a better idea of what to ask later so we can make a plan.” Bruce started moving toward the balcony doors as he pulled on his cowl, “Now finish suiting up.  Let’s go.”

“Oh this is going to go just fucking swimmingly,” Jason muttered under his breath as he pulled on his jacket and grabbed his helmet.  Tim hummed in agreement and started bracing for the worst, which was standard practice at this point.

   Chapter 5

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 Note: *Sigh* I honestly thought they would meet again, kinda, in this chapter, but then they didn’t, the unruly bastards.  So very sorry.  Next chapter I promise!  I swear it is the next scene.

[thesunwillshineonusagain757]

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

This is the third part in the series, where I put my headcanons about Rhaegar Targaryen, and about his personality. This came as an idea from a post from @dragonstemper . So yeah let’s get this started…

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

Rhaegar has a unique perspective and vigorous intellect, often losing himself in his thoughts and own world inside his mind, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, hardly ever stops thinking. From the moment he wakes up, Rhaegar's mind buzzes with ideas, questions, and insights. At times, he may even find himself conducting full-fledged debates in his own head. Imaginative and curious, Rhaegar Targaryen can find endless fascination in the workings of his own mind. So sometimes on his own, with no interruptions, is what gives him the greatest feeling of happiness.

Any stress or daily worries shed from his mind, giving him an amount of time to focus on what he really cares about: deep, complex thoughts that he can analyse and synthesize into entirely new concepts, that brings Rhaegar a deep feeling of joy and fulfilment. Although Rhaegar can be quite content with just his ideas, books being the greatest catalyst in order to initiate it. Books about science, and philosophy or even how to cook the best omelet, or maybe even a romance book about Jenny of Oldstones. Either way, the book has to carry him away to a point, where the next fascinating thought comes into the next grand idea.

Rhaegar has a very reserved nature, so he likes to stay indoors , sitting in the library reading books and debating ideas. But he found that he also has a particular liking for going outside, it helps him to connect with the world and other people. It was easy for him to skip things and isolate himself, and not think about the surrounding people ( in particular his father and his tantrums and episodes of craziness ) . He found comfort in his loneliness, yet he found going outside especially with his children helped him feel better.

In his life he had lived with people who are very negative ( such as HIS FATHER ) so he also found that avoiding him the most was a blessing for his mental health and happiness, of course he could be honest and tell Aerys to stop being so negative or confronting him because he knew dire consequences would follow, so he just avoided his father all together.

New ideas, bring Rhaegar Joy. Some grand possibility opening up to him, paving a new path to truth and meaning. A spark of curiosity and he goes into his realm of familiarity, searching for conceptual precision, piqued by a word or thought, and when Rhaegar arrives at an answer and conclusion that makes sense to him, he places it gently in his framework of truth like a delicate feather dangling from a spider’s web, liable to be blown away at the slightest wind that his storm of new possibility. He is terribly happy to go on thought journeys, even with the people he loves . It gives him an overflowing feeling of pure joy.

Now happiness, to Rhaegar comes a lot from the feeling fulfilment, and a friend to share in the crazy in the way to go. Rhaegar doesn't consider himself crazy ( as you know cough cough you know who ) but he has very particular things he likes and thinks about, that to outsiders, and people that don't know about what he is talking can sound crazy, a whole lot of crazy. So sharing his thoughts and particular wondering points brings him a lot of fulfilment, he can go on and on for hours discussing and debating about his areas of interest.

The best-case scenario would be if it takes no effort , if he ever found someone who is already on the same page as he is. Someone with whom he can talk has the same wave level of loco as he does. Someone to listen to his thoughts and theories and discuss the ideas and discoveries and latest findings. Furthermore, someone to agree, validate and debate with him! But most importantly of all, listen without judgement and engage him without fear of social consequences.

But why? Simple, because all he wants it's an individual with mutual understanding that nothing in this life is even real, much less fathomable or truly tangible. Something to unites him and this individual or group of individuals in a way that means everything is up for discussion. This unity provides him with a sense of camaraderie, something Rhaegar forgets to acknowledge sometimes, that he needs this will bring him a spirit of true fulfilment.

Summarizing: A few hours alone with an interesting book. People might say no man is an island, but Rhaegar feels ' with himself' when he has a nice chunk of solitude and can stretch his intellectual muscles during that time without any interruptions from the outside world. And also some people with whom he can discuss those books. The man is not demanding, he just needs a book club.

𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 ?

Rhaegar is someone who struggles with showing kindness, he had his mother Rhaella as an example of warmth in his own way. She thought to him that love only grows by sharing, but she was also very sad, and grief stricken for good reasons, she lost a lot of babies and her husband was a psychopathic maniac, so yeah showing kindness wasn’t easy, so he didn’t have many good examples that stuck with him about being kind. Unkind, selfish, and inconsiderate were most of the things that Rhaegar learned from his father, and from most of the surrounding people, he was the prince, but he could see the shallowness of their actions. It was almost certain that he would turn out as fucked up as his father, but he didn’t.

Most people thought that for him to be kind, he needed to make kindness his most important way of doing things. But he came to be kind and helpful, but the thing is that he doesn’t see fit to be kind and show kindness to those who he isn’t sure deserve it. It also would be worth mentioning that Rhaegar has promised himself never to be, like his father, to never have that erratic behaviour, to not be envious, jealous, suspicious, and violent, to not be prone to furious outbursts. So kindness could be somewhat of a handicap. He can be prone to over-giving to the people closest to his heart, in things such as self-sacrifice, and other actions that might be deleterious to him and his health. He is a very mature person so poor value judgment doesn't often happen to say it even happens with Rhaegar, so he would never expose himself to ruthless individuals, but over giving to those who have his trust and love before thinking of his own health might happen.

Rhaegar will show his empathy and kindness, the fact that Rhaegar is very emotionally and intellectually deep makes his act to be very significant. So that's why he shows empathy when he concerns himself, and understands the feeling like your pain others feel, on a very deep level he might not show it much, but he feels intense emotion just not too outwardly. So in the same breath that Rhaegar will be very calm, he will be taking it all in, almost in a sombre sober way, but somehow he lets people know that he gets it, and he understands profoundly the essence of what the pain or uneasy feeling others around him experience.

The dragon prince shows his empathy with the soothing, feeling his understanding and sympathy bring the people he is close to. He is a shoulder to cry on. Even if Rhaegar in the situation in question remains calm while trying to understand the feelings from people around him. It's like he hits people with a tsunami of understanding, most of it is underwater and not displayed outwardly, but there is a tremendous depth, because he'll be there by the people he has closest to his heart, as he deals with their feelings and turmoil.

Summarizing: Rhaegar’s kindness is not given easily, and it’s not given to everyone, only to those close to his heart, but when given to an individual it comes as understanding. Understanding free of judgement, and helping to solve problems and turmoil, or soothing and comforting when the problem presents itself as pain, anything to make these people feel understood and valued .

𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 :

Rhaegar's happiness comes from very reserved activities, his mind always races with thought so to relax he will read a book about space, magic, romance, and keep it to himself to recharge his energy. The dragon prince’s kindness comes from him trying to understand people around him, understanding their turmoil, problems, doubts, likes, dislikes, likes, he shows his empathy and kindness by understanding.

───── ⟨ 𝐑𝐓 ⟩ ─────

So what do you guys think of it @rhaelyas @dragonstemper @aerltarg @vivacissimx @imaginaryvane @valaenarhaegarovna @rhaegar-and-lyanna @rhaegarxlyanna @lorelei-4 @rhaelyanna @intheairwewilllookmonstrous

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms: intro

[The complete Interdimensional dads here!]

Team RWBY finds themselves sitting at a table. All of them are middle age but vary in appearances that aren’t strange to an average stranger by any means, but different from what they are used to seeing from one another. For starters was Weiss. Her three friends had never known her to have shoulder length hair, or a horizontal scar underneath the one they’ve always noticed. Something about her eyes seemed...different. Brighter. As if they were infinitely dancing. Weiss’s eyes, they hid no emotions. The only thing more surprising was the fact she was wearing faded jeans and a white shirt with her symbol in black on it. Nobody said anything, but Weiss in jeans was somehow equally as gorgeous. Yang was slightly salty about it.

Blake’s eyes weren’t like Weiss’s, but they weren’t the usual stern but hopeful ones they all loved dearly. Blake looked relaxed. Like, wake up Saturday morning to watch tv and get cereal, kind of relaxed. The top of her long hair pulled into a bun while the back flowed freely. Despite her eyes, her clothes was ready for action. In fact, it looked like her dad’s clothes, with the way the royal purple coat flowed to white, puffy ends. And obviously, a shirt. Weiss could notice the subtle grays in the raven black hair and the women’s hands and face were healthy, but noticeably slimmer. A clear sign that she either had gotten sick, or her job had gotten to her once or twice. Maybe that’s why she looked relaxed? A similar chain of events happened with Winter.

Yang didn’t look too different. Except for Blake, who was awe struck. Yang to her was different, but also very much how she used to look back when they all journeyed together. Slight lines were under the bruisers eyes that resembled Raven’s. Her favorite coat that went with her bike was a little worn and Yang had noticeably gotten even buffer. Her muscles and beauty radiating with such vitality. Yang always burned bright like an inferno, but this was different. She smiled awkwardly at her team as they looked at her. A sublet chuckle escaped her and confirmed Blake’s feeling. This Yang was different, and felt like the sun itself.

Yang looked towards Ruby and was left speechless. All of them were. Out of the four, it was Ruby that had changed the most. To Yang, it was like seeing Summer. There was just this overwhelming presence that cake from her sister. They all noticed the long hair that went down her right shoulder and stunning black and red corset. The skirt dropped right past her knees. Her legs dawned black pantyhose with roses along them and Weiss couldn’t look away from the ruby red heels. The signature cloak was still with her of course. Silver eyes shined bright and a raised brow arched as she too was confused by the familiar, yet different faces. Still, Yang and the others were still soaking in her appearance. No scars, ruffled her, tired eyes, or even an overly goofy expression. Ruby Rose, looked like a fairytale come to life. Not only that. Between her youthful yet clearly mature appearance, the others felt something greater. The dream they were told by heart countless times by their leader. The romanticized vision of being a huntress, a hero, this Ruby had grabbed that dream truly with both hands. They just knew it.

Ruby:Ummm hello?

WBY:Hey....

Ruby:So uh, umm, what? What is happening here? I’m not the only person thinking something is off, right?

Blake:You’re not. But the question is....

Yang:What the hell is “off” to begin with?

Weiss:I think that’s us? Also, where exactly are we?

The void.

Yang:Who said that!?

No one important me. Consider me a operator. I could say a god, but that’s way too much considering I’ll do anything.

Weiss:Sounds like a god to me. Okay, give us the long and short of it. We’ll figure it out.

RBY: (We will?)

What you’re wittinessing is a meeting of team RWBY, but flipped on its side. Different universes, different outcomes, similar people, different endgames. Including kids. Discuss and have fun. That’s all. Think of it as a reunion that was never meant to be. Catch up, learn.

Weiss:Well then, can’t say I’m not interested. It’s not the craziest thing in the world.

Blake:It isn’t!? Why is this happening?

.......

Yang:I think he left.

Ruby:Well that’s about as long and short as you can get I suppose. Still...what!? Different universes?

Weiss:Considering the way you’re dressed, I believe it.

Ruby:What does that mean!?

Yang:Yeah she’s right. Look at you, all womanly. Last time I checked, my sister beautiful, but not rivaling me in the hips department. Which brings me back to what I just heard. Kids?

Ruby:Yeah?

Yang:Weiss, Blake, you too?

BW:Yeah?

Yang:Definitely different universes. Last time I checked, the only mama bear on team RWBY is me.

Blake:Last time I checked, you were single and alone.

Yang:WHAT!? Why would I be single!?

RW:....You mean you don’t kids together?

BY:Why would we have kids together?

RWBY:......

Ruby:Wow, I didn’t even think a sentence like that could exist. Guess alternate worlds do exist.

Weiss:And apparently infinite if you two aren’t shacking up.

Yang:Since when does Weiss Schnee day “shacking up?” Since when do you wear pants!?

Weiss:They’re cheaper to maintain. Why wouldn’t- oh my goodness. How do you usually see me!? What am I doing?

RB:You run your company.

Yang:The best Atlas huntress to ever exist.

Weiss:...So I was never broke?

RBY:YOU WERE WHAT!?

Blake:Okay, let’s take a step back. Clearly the differences really do vary. That’s all well and good but before all of that I wanna know why us for specifically? That doesn’t seem at random, does it?

Yang:Four out of infinity? I mean I’d just close my eyes and pick.

Ruby:Now that, that’s on brand for you. Hehe, I guess some things never change?

Blake:Yeah but it has to be more than just personality, right.

Weiss:Hey, we’re all wearing wedding rings.

They looked at each other’s hands. Each girl had a jewel that matched their color over a beautiful golden band that had different, yet similar engravings on it. Too similar. There’s no way the same store just happen to do it in every universe. However, was it crazy to think the shopkeeper was given similar instructions on the rings if it was the same person who asked for jewelry? Like Ruby said, somethings never change, and an idea like ring designs as endearingly cheesy as this brought only one face to mind.

RWBY:....

Blake:On three. One....two....

RWBY:I married Jaune A-.......

Yang:Well, clearly we all have amazing taste in men. *smiles*

RB:That’s insane!

Yang:Why? That’s not too crazy.

RB:You liking men is

Weiss:Why? She’s bi.

Yang:Actually....yeah, I guess so. Given my history- how do you know that!?

Weiss:Because I know you, dunce! You’re an openly sexual person that never misses an opportunity to anybody’s head spin, before teasingly going over to Blake and kissing her. Just so people know you’re off the market.

Yang...

Yang:That’s pretty fucking great.

Ruby:And still on brand.

Blake:.....

Yang:Well then. I guess we have a lot to talk about. Sheesh, Jaune Arc. Gotta admit, it’s crazy knowing he’s gotten so much attention. How scandalous.

Weiss:You make it sound like cheating?

Blake:I do feel that a little.

Ruby:Yeah, not a fan. But...losing to you three is understandable. Bittersweet, but I get it.

Yang:You didn’t lose though! You, the one right here, is married to him!

Ruby:All I’m saying is if it was up to me, our love would transcend space and time.

WBY:(Dummy, in a way, it does.) Ruby, you’re really greedy, you know that right?

Ruby:Huh!? Hey, what’s that all about.

Her teammate all looked at each other. They didn’t have to say anything. A single glance was enough to know they were on a similar page. Oh yes. Ruby Rose was definitely greedy, and hilariously adorable whenever she got picked on. They all laughed as this familiar Rose grew red with embarrassment and pouted. The more things change, the more they stayed the same. A reunion that was never meant to be. Yeah, it was gonna be a blast.