#youre on crack tone detector

[justakon]

The tone of the letter seems to be optimistic and joyful. Is it really though?

[sophrosynesworld]

Cooking Lessons

Did anyone ask for this? No. Did you burn breakfast? Yes. Enjoy your cooking lessons.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I pull the skillet off the burner and dump the charred eggs into the sink, frantically turning on the cold water to douse the flames. The smoke detector blares from the hallway, announcing my cooking disaster to the world.

My bare feet scurry against the cold tile as I rush to open the windows, fanning the smoke with a towel. I push my hair out of my face, breathing in the cool morning air that seeps in as the smoke alarm shuts off.

“Are you trying to kill us?” a familiar voice grumbles behind me.

I jump, startled by Katsuki’s morning voice. My gaze flickers over his sculpted abs before I quickly look away, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Katsuki stands there, arms crossed, his expression a blend of annoyance and amusement.

“Seriously, what are you doing?” he asks, stepping closer. The early morning light catches the tousled strands of his blond hair, making him look even more appealing.

“I was just trying to make breakfast,” I mumble, avoiding his eyes as I scrub the skillet. “I didn’t mean to set off the alarm.”

He snorts. “You? Cooking? That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

I bite my lip, slightly disappointed. “Well, someone has to try,” I mutter, rinsing the skillet with more force than necessary.

Katsuki sighs, moving to the counter and grabbing a clean towel. “Move over,” Bakugo nudges me gently with his hip. “I’ll handle this.”

I step aside, watching as he expertly cracks a few eggs into a new pan, his movements swift and practiced. The sizzle of the eggs hitting the hot surface fills the kitchen, the comforting smell of breakfast begins to replace the burnt odor.

“Thanks,” I say softly, hopping onto the edge of the counter and crossing my arms. “For helping.”

Katsuki glances at me, attempting to stifle his smile. “Just don’t make a habit of it,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I watch him intently, trying to understand how he can do this so effortlessly. I had tried to replicate this exact process, but failed miserably.

“Why were you even up this early?” he asks, breaking my train of thought as he plates the now perfectly cooked eggs.

“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast,” I admit, feeling a bit sheepish. “Guess I failed, huh?”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, sliding the plate towards me. “Surprised me, alright. Just not in the way you intended.” He grabs another plate and divides the eggs between us, adding some toast from the toaster that miraculously survived my cooking attempt.

We sit at the small kitchen table, the tension easing as we eat in welcome silence. The warmth of the food spreads through me, a stark contrast to the earlier chaos.

“You know,” Katsuki says after a while, his tone unusually gentle, “if you really want to learn how to cook, I could teach you. Just… maybe start with something less flammable next time.”

I look up, surprised by the offer. “Really? You’d do that?”

He shrugs, trying to play it cool, "Yeah, well, can't have you burning down my apartment. Plus,” he adds, almost as an afterthought, “it’s kinda nice, you wanting to do something for me.”

A smile spreads across my face. “Alright, deal. But don’t blame me if I end up blowing up the kitchen instead.”

Katsuki smirks, “We’ll see about that. Now eat up before it gets cold.”

[noosayog]

wc: 700

warnings/content: reader uses she/her pronouns, university AU ft. Atsumu

part 1. directory here.

--

A light incessant tap on your door has evolved into a knock with the intensity of someone running from murder. Unlucky for the person on the other side of the door, no serial killer inspires enough altruism in you to take kindly to their knocking bloody murder at your door at -- you crack open one eye to glance at your phone -- 2:56 in the morning on finals week.

Your footsteps stomp heavily across the floor of your studio and you swing open the door without looking to see who it may be. If you were more awake, you'd scold yourself for the serious lack of awareness.

"What the fuck do you want," you growl at the figure.

In the hall, a tall, blonde man you’ve never seen before holds his hands up in surrender at your tone. He gives you a smile that would irk you if you could be more irate than you already are. He gives you an up and down which makes you bare your teeth at him and he drops the smile.

"I'm sorry to bother you-"

"You better be. What do you want."

His eyes dart down to your legs then back up again.

"Nothing," he says, starting to emulate some nerves in his voice. "I really am sorry because I actually don't need anything. I live down the hall and we're playing truth or dare and my friends dared me to come knock-"

You've heard enough and slam the door in his face.

--

The next morning, you wake up predictably grouchy. You're trudging down the hall to your last final of the year when the door on your left suddenly slams open and a familiar blonde-haired body barrels straight into you. Unable to withstand a wall of muscle multiplied by the force of his body slam, your body goes flying into the opposite wall and you crumple into the floor, vision going white.

"Oh shit," you hear someone mumble.

You feel someone roughly grab your arm to lift you up, but you tear your arm away, staying on the floor to snap out of your vertigo. You feel the arm let you go but the body the arm is attached to hovers over you, arms circling over your body as if he were a metal detector but the metal he's trying to find is bodily harm dealt to you.

"Are you okay?" the metal detector asks.

"What the fuck do you think, asshole?" you snap when you regain some semblance of motor function.

"Jeez, are you always this grumpy?"

You finally look at the offender to find the same man at your door earlier this morning. He grins at you, introducing himself as Miya Atsumu, as if introducing oneself is the natural course of action after giving the counterparty a damn near concussion. He offers you a hand, bright, sunny smile still plastered on.

You slap his hand away and stand up by yourself. After a quick assessment of your essential body functions, you conclude that you're probably alright. You muster up the nastiest glare you have in your arsenal of glares for different occasions and ignore him, continuing on your way.

"Hey, hey wait up," he says, running after you. "I wanted to apologize for last night."

"Apology accepted. Please leave me alone."

"Great then! What's your name? Maybe we can be friends since we're neighbors."

You don't dignify that with a response and instead propel your legs faster, practically running away from him.

He keeps up easily though. By the time you're on campus, your calves are burning, but the whole trek, Miya Atsumu has continued circling through his never-ending carousel of conversation topics, not even breaking a sweat.

Finally, at the university center, you make towards the left and he says, "I'm actually going this way. This was fun, neighbor! Your legs are more muscular than they look!" He flashes you a thumbs up. You sigh in relief, wondering why the fuck he's talking about how your legs look when you suddenly remember that you sleep in just a tank top and panties. You realize the weird ups and downs he was giving you last night were because you were practically naked. As if the day couldn't get any worse, you decide to visit the clinic to propose a lobotomy to forget the events of the past 12 hours (you actually just wanted some aspirin because you had a headache that had spiraled into serious nausea by the end of your final) only to find that you have a concussion.

[badyan]

Thought onslaught

"I just!…don’t know…"

"Why are you even questioning this?" his voice was cold and unaffected, but you know he doesn’t mean to be so harsh with you. It’s just his usual state. You still feel like you’re interrupting him though…

"It is your birthday. You humans love your celebrations…sometimes even too much," he adds in a lower tone, scrolling for something in his holopad. "So why should no one care this time?"

You go quiet. The thought about you being the most annoying mopping goof floods your mind again. Second day straight. You know too well he has no intention to sound so cold. But two days with these anxious thoughts boiling up within your head…You don’t even have any strength left to pour him your whole heart out. Especially when he’s like this, all in accordance with his role. Right…You should not try to get in touch with him when he’s working. It’s not about personal, you’ve discussed it already — it’s just like his mind switches into the commander mode. And you’ve lost him till the dead of the night.

"Should’ve known better…" you think to yourself, standing up and leaving him alone. Maybe you’re just too tired. Exhausted, actually. Sleep would be great — especially the part when you can have your mind turned off.

You fall flat, huge pillow embracing your face, soft cool darkness soothing your heated watery eyes. You need to take a time-out of this endless thought onslaught. And you can. But right before your mind completely blurs to sleep, you hear him calling you from the other room.

"Where are you?"

"I’ll nap…a bit…" you only mumble in the dark, voice so small in this yearning silence. You know he heard you. You simply try to brush off new wave of trembling overthoughts and force your mind blank, letting the slumber consume you. You don’t want to mull it all over anymore.

The last thing that came to your mind was Ram as you hear some distant clicking of his vents opening in a sigh. Maybe it would have been much easier if you were an omnic like him, able to switch your dumb fucking anxious head off…That would be awesome, even for a bit…

You dissolve into the sweet oblivion of your dreams, now blank, peaceful. Perfect void for your disheartened heart to hide…

…that was until you got scared awake by the sudden noise of fire alarm. Annoying loud beeping was coming from the kitchen, where you immedeately rushed, almost falling because your socks slipped on the smooth floor tiles. You even felt your spine crack from how awkwardly you moved, catching your balance back — but the sight in front of you was worthy of that.

You arrived at the same moment his hand teared the fire alarm detector off the ceiling, crushing it to crunch straight away just to shut the damn thing. He moves frantically, aggressively even, as if this poor alarm could pose a danger to him and all his beloved ones.

Ramattra stands beside the stove awkwardly, oddly slouching and staring at you back silently. The whole scene was so chaotic and so sudden that it makes you both just freeze on the spot, taking a second to comprehend the what-tha-fuck moment. You blink sleepily, taking in the way he stands strangely in the middle of house equipment’s murder scene. He was never jealous of other machines that surround you daily…

Although his pose deceives him badly. Yes, of course it’s usual for him to lower his head like this indoors since he is too large for your cute little kitchen ( or better say, your cute litte kitchen is too small for his full-height posture ) — but right now you sense something off in the way he clumsily stand there, gripping the edge of the countertop, watching you intently with a hint of…guilt?

A deer in the headlights, a little boy who goofed around too much and is now trying to escape getting grounded, quickly eliminating all the evidence of his goofball deeds — that’s what you see in the kitchen instead of your lovely ravager boy. This confounded pose and the way he don’t know where to look to escape your shoked gaze, letting the awfully long foolish pause give him away even more…it’s so obvious that he’s hiding something from you, it makes him sick with embarrassment.

And the more he tries to cover it up, the more it makes your lips curl into a silly smirk. You already know what’s going on — but the view…is charming.

"What?…" was all you can mutter carefully, tone already mischievous.

"Nothing." even his own vocaliser deceives him, pure confusion is evident in his tone. He can only thank the Iris that his faceplate can’t blush, otherwise he would be all red at the moment.

"Why?" your cheeks start to hurt from how big of a smile you have as you point at the poor fire alarm debris in his fist.

"It…it could have waked you up. It did." he objects, though knowing that his arguments sound lame.

"It was doing its job!" you chuckle "It’s the least it could do since big boy commander can’t deal with some mundane human cooking…" you taunt and he lowers his head in shame. He had no time to get rid of the smell of burned food before you rushed over…

You can’t resist this adorable goof. Giggling heartedly, you gesture him to move out of the way. He hesitated for a moment, before he slowly steps to the side, letting you to the stove. There it is — a whole pan of veggies and burned down tomato sause, seasoned with your favourite herbs. All burned, too. You hear his back vents clicking open as he watches you examining the remains of what meant to be your own specialty pasta…

But oh, how his circuitry melts when he’s met with your smile, pure joy shining in your sleepy eyes despite the meal being totally ruined. He freezes, afraid to scare off the moment, finding himself forgetting how to pronounce words. Instead he just stares at you, hoping you’ll read straight from his eyes all the things his soul speaks but his vocaliser can’t yet. At the back of his mind, he sometimes wishes he could have the same deep, gorgeous eyes, just like you, as a human, have…Eyes that can talk louder than any voice or gesture or body language could muster. That would be wonderful, just a bit of this charm any human was born with…

"You sweetheart…" you murmur, gently leaning on him, hugging, snuggling, feeling how his hands wrap around your whole body in his big bear’s embrace, incredibly soft and careful for a creature of steel…your head cradled against his chest and he is nuzzling your hair from up above, planting a silent omnicode kiss.

"You remembered my pasta…"

"Of course I have…I wanted to make you your favourite"

"You remembered my comfort food recipe…to make it for me…"

"… and I burnt the whole meal."

"You! remembered!! and wanted to make!!! for me!!!! and almost cooked!!!!!" you laugh and it fills him with the warmth he has never known.

Perhaps, this is what home feels like…

"So…you’re not mad? Even though I totally screwed it up?"

"Not at all, hun. But I would if we won’t cook it together now." your mischievous smirk is making him thank the Iris again for not being able to blush.

He is enamoured.

~~~~~~~

@statuetochka, @t3chborb silly Rama food is ready!!! fluff flavoured, because my birthday is coming next wednesday, anxiety is getting me and Rama is my babe therapy

[sys128]

Artificial Intelligence as it stands

The world of AI has been rapidly developing in the past couple of years, and now we have this chatbot named ChatGPT, which is apparently so good, that people are starting to use it to write their college-level essays. That sounds like a situation that would play out in a science-fiction, comedy-driven novel about how academics will be like in the 2030s. But nope, this is real. This morning, in my first period class, I was randomly assigned a task to read a couple of articles about this whole ChatGPT thing. That was how I found out about the whole idea of using it to fully write their essay assignments, while I was forced by the assignment to think about how it would change how we think of well, everything. How the AI situation is depends on the medium. At the present moment, there is little fear of AI taking over the world of text. For the time being, we may not have to worry about our text being indistinguishable from human and AI.

When we use these bots for enough time, we start to notice something interesting. Sometimes, it makes some confidently incorrect statements. There are many instances of AI goofs. In text for example, I will now tell you something that came from the experience of someone in my Discord server. With ChatGPT, you can tell it to make a Python program to render something using the PyGame library, or even work with a file format that you developed yourself, but it is not going to be correct every time. The more ambitious your prompt is, the less likely it will be for the AI to make something that works first try. You would have to go through dozens of prompts to make the final product, not counting the mistakes fixed by the human. Ultimately, there is still a large human component to it. If we absolutely had to, we would have to use the AI more as a companion then a 100% reliable generator, especially for proofreading. I remember when we were in a Discord voice chat, talking about the chatbot, we had to constantly tell it about the errors it makes and then see if it would go ahead and do some troubleshooting.

In the case of academics, when the bot is confidently wrong, it causes a lapse in the user’s judgement, and it bites them in the butt when they see a fat C- on their next paper. As it turns out, the bot is currently really bad in citing their sources and finding nuances. So it really needs to train more on tone in text if it wants to get an A every time. Because of these types of weaknesses, there are still ways we can exploit the weaknesses of any AI to distinguish between what is done by a human and what is not. My English told me this morning that there is already a beta of a detector that can put a percentage of confidence whether the text you give it was generated by an AI or not. The English department in the school I go to has quickly been made aware of this tool. The more we know about ChatGPT, sure, the more it will be developed, but also the more we know about how we can exploit it. This lets us learn about the AIs that we develop so that we know how to stop them from going too far, and maybe even taking over the planet.

So that was the whole gist on how the world of text is safe for the time being, but it is good to be made aware of it. Artificially generated art on the other hand? That is a tougher nut to crack depending on what you are using it for, and worse, it is a lot more morally questionable. This calls back to artificially generated images in general, like with human faces or road signs. Someone at some point had the idea of using images taken from art websites and then see what happens. But we first need to understand what an image AI does. Every AI needs a dataset to train on to get the result the user needs. The problem lies in what the type of data it needs. In the case of art AI, it would need to use other people’s works, usually obtained from the original artist without the permission of them. For all I know, my furry art could very well be a part of their datasets too. Because of the lack of permission and the fact that it is generating art that can sometimes be harder to distinguish from human art, people are rightfully pissed off about it. There have even been protests about the issue of AI generated art. It has trended on numerous platforms across the internet, spammed to oblivion on pro-AI art websites, and much more. There is also a group of people that saw money signs in their eyes when they first saw the concept of AI generated art. They now turned a profit from it, which made human artists even MORE furious! Their art is now being stolen, not just by the datasets in which they generate from, but now the people making thousands of dollars off of it! This only fueled those protests even more.

This whole thing about the divide between what is human and what is AI made me think of generational gaps. Many boomers do not like the idea of having computers and the internet, especially for the gaming world. Many millennials are not fans of modern social media platforms like TikTok. Do you think the same is going to happen with artificial intelligence and Generation Z? I am definitely opposed to a lot of aspects of AI, but they can be fun to develop if you are doing something less useful and more fun, like some of the stuff that Cary Huang – aka carykh – does. I have a feeling that Generation Alpha will find a lot more fascination in this medium than any of us ever will. If it turns out that artificial intelligence has dominated the planet after we find some sort of equality measure between humans and robots, we might have them to blame for feuling the decisions of the Generation X/Y leaders.

<< TEXT GENERATED BY SYSTEM128-BOT, BEEP BOOP, TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER! >>

[obsidiancreates]

Not As Bad As It Could Be (Gradually Getting Worse) Part 2

"No, no, we do not let Donnie in on this."

"Why not?! He deserves to get some closure, Leo!"

"Closure and revenge aren't the same thing! Besides, he's-he's Donnie! He won't want revenge the way you do, anyway!"

"Um, I dunno Leo. He and Raph get pretty close in butt-kicking when I mess with their stuff."

"See? Mikey gets it."

"And that's meant to convince me why?"

"Hey!"

"Look, I- hmm. I'm just saying, he's still... recovering. I think it's worse than he's letting on, I keep hearing him whimper in his sleep. I'm worried about... what we might find. And what it'd do to him."

"... Fine. I get that. But it's gonna be a while before we find out where all these missing mutants are going anyway, so if he's better by then, I say we tell him. If Slash is right, this is putting all mutants in danger, including us."

"Alright. Alright, we'll wait to see if he starts to get better. Now, um, speaking of... has anyone seen him eat today?"

"Don't sweat it bros, I ordered him an awesome keratin bomb pizza! He'll totally eat it up."

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

"I'm not hungry." Donnie pushes the plate away. Mikey pouts, and Raph growls in annoyance.

"You say that every time these days, yet once you start you always scarf it down! Just skip the charade and eat it!"

"My stomach hurts again!" Donnie hugs his torso. "I-I think it must be a stress response, or maybe they- th-they ruined something in my stomach lining when they..."

Raph sets down his comic book. "Hey, your stomach itself wasn't cut open, remember? They didn't make it that far. It's probably not physical."

"Yeah, probably," Donnie mumbles, still hugging himself tightly. He eyes the pizza. "Fine, but if I throw up I'm doing it right here, on the couch."

"We'll make Leo clean it up, bro," Mikey says in a sweet tone, patting Donnie's hand.

"Make me clean up what?" Leo looks over from Space Heroes, finally tuning in to the conversation.

"Nothin', dude. Go ahead, Donnie, I'll get you a bucket or something if you need it."

Donnie takes a bite, and then another, and soon half the pizza is gone.

"Told you so," Raph says from the beanbag.

"Hey man, he was just hurtin'. Don't shame him for it." Mikey pats Donnie's hand that still rests on his plastron. "Does your stomach feel better?"

Donnie swallows his bite. "Eh... I guess? I don't know, it- it just aches all the time, and sometimes there's these sharp pains. I used a metal detector to see if anything was... left in me, but nada."

"It'll get better with time," Leo says, bringing Donnie a glass of water. "And since we're still grounded, we've got plenty of it."

"It's not grounded, it's just... biding our time." 'Grounded' makes Donnie feel... guilty, about it. Which is nonsense. He didn't ask to be opened up.

Except his whole existence asks for it. Wouldn't he want to do the same, if he was on the other end of the scalpel? Figure out how a freak like him works?

No, no, he's dabbled in unethical science once or twice, but never that badly. Vivisection is just... cruel. Cruel and cold. And after his experience, he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. No matter how much his worst enemy might wish it on him. No matter how vile, heartless, evil. DESERVING OF IT-

"You're spacing out again dude." Mikey's elbow jabs his side, and Donnie lets out a sharp yelp. He hugs himself tighter, putting his hand over the spot and glaring at Mikey. Mikey laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hey guys."

"April!" Donnie perks up right away.

"How're you feeling, Donnie?" She sits next to him.

"Eh, about the same as the last week and a half."

"How's it looking?" He moves his arm just for April, and she winces before remembering to pretend it's not that bad. "Um, coming along great! It's finally starting to fill back in!"

"And it looks nasty." Mikey leans over to look, wrinkling his not-nose. "Why's it look like I can peel it?"

"How should I know? None of us have ever had this wide of a crack heal back over before."

"But you're the medic science guy."

"I'm also the hurt guy."

"Speaking of, I got some stronger painkillers if you need them." April pulls the bottle out. "Don't ask where I got them... let's just say Casey's been keeping a lookout during his fights."

"Wait, you brought stolen painkillers into the lair?!"

"Sorry, Leo, I just thought Donnie could use them!"

"Thanks, April. I- gah-" Donnie closes his eyes as another sharp pain shoots through him, gritting his teeth as he waits for it to be over. When it is he sighs, and holds out his hand for the bottle. "I'm getting tired of waking up in the middle of the night like that."

"Is it infected?" April digs in her bag. "I might have some hydrogen peroxide."

"I have plenty, don't worry. And no, it just- guh- hurts. It's possible it'll scar pretty badly, which could mean I'll have to completely adjust my entire way of moving and fighting."

"Aw, I'm sure it won't be that bad. And if it is, I'll help you come up with some new moves."

Donnie smiles thankfully at her. He's managed to regulate his feeling for her to "just enjoying having her around without wanting more" for the most part, and it's honestly a lot nicer than the former obsession.

Sometimes he thinks back on the ways he acted, and it both gives him chills and makes him burn with shame. The following her, the obsessing over her and Casey being alone together... he's glad she looked past it to remain his friend. Even if it is also concerning that she didn't cut him off.

Her being friends with a freak like him in the first place is concerning. Even though she has Kraang DNA she's more human than he'll ever be. What's wrong with her? Something must be. Something must be wrong in her brain. Maybe he can find it an fix it. She'll leave them all, though. But what keeps her here?

"Donnie?" Her hand gently taps against his cheek. "Hey, stop that. I don't know exactly what you're thinking, but I don't like what I'm feeling from you."

Donnie sighs. "Can't hide anything from you," he says with a weak smile. He takes some of the new painkillers. "Ugh, I hate looking at the crack. Mikey is right, it's growing back in layers and- oh, I might be sick. Terrible textures..."

"Here, I thought of this." April digs into her bag and pulls out a very large hoodie. "Ta-da! This should fit over your shell."

Donnie takes it, eyes widening as he rubs his hand over the fabric. Slowly, carefully, April helps him get it on.

She hands him a mirror when it's done. "There. Hey look, you're actually wearing real clothes for once," she says with a giggle.

Donnie stares into the mirror, mouth a little agape. The hood falls over his eyes a bit, hiding most of his face. It's truly huge, baggy enough that it's hard to tell there's a bulge from his shell at the back. The sleeves are too long, hanging well past his hands.

April's smile fades a little. "Sorry, um, it was the best I could fi-"

"I love it." Donnie pulls the hood forward a little more, further obscuring his face. He pulls his legs up, tucking them into it. Almost none of him is even visible, and he truly loves it. "I-I might never take it off."

April tries to smile again, but Donnie can tell it's strained. She must feel something from him, but what? He's just happy. He can barely see his stupid body, and he's delighted by it. Not even the near-blinding, dizzying pain in his torso can ruin it.

"Donnie!" April has her hands on him, and oh, he's tipping forward. "You almost passed out, I-I felt that! That didn't feel normal!"

"It's just, hhh, just healing." Donnie finds himself panting, struggling to talk through the continuing flare-up. He thinks about her words, and starts to laugh. It hurts, it hurts badly, but he can't stop.

"Donnie, you're scaring me."

"Probably just, gah, the p-painkillers kicking in," he assures through laughter and grunts of pain. "But I- ha! You-you said normal!"

"And?"

"Does any- hhhnn- anything about thi-this situation say normal t- ah- to you?"

"You know what I meant."

"I don't," he giggles, head feeling fuzzy. It's not that different from when Vizioso sedated him, actually, and the memory send another stab of pain through him. He doubles over again. "I don't h-have a clue what normal is!"

"Master Splinter! Donnie's having a bad reaction to some painkillers!"

"This is-is what happens when a freak tries some normal medicine!" Donnie laughs deliriously again, he feels all floaty.

"April, what has happened?!"

"I don't know! Casey and I checked to make sure the painkillers weren't laced with anything, but now he's just laughing and talking about being a freak-"

FREAK!

Donnie puts his hands over his ears. "I don't want to hear it!"

"My son, look at me."

Donnie can't open his eyes.

"Donatello!"

Why do his stupid guts hurt so bad?!

"April, get Raphael, I need his help carrying Donatello to his room."

And once again, suddenly Donnie is being lifted and carried. He hugs his midsection tightly again. "The freak can't even process painkiller right," he spits, then laughs. "Look at me, I have the biggest brain of the mutant sewer people! So special!"

"Aw, shut it, Donnie," comes Raph's far-away mumbling. "That's the drugs talking."

"Suuuuure." Donnie pulls the hood around his face. "Sure it is."

"Where's all of this coming from?"

Freaks

Ugly

Mutants

Monsters

"It hurts."

"... I know, bro. Here." He's laid down on a sort of soft, old, sewer-water-stained mattress, too familiar of a comfort to be a comfort. "Rest up, okay?"

Donnie starts to drift off, and the last thing he hears is Leo outside of the door speaking to Raph, voice low and very I-told-you-so.

"What was that earlier about him getting better soon?"

[imaginativeamateur]

[Itachi Uchiha X Reader] First Snow {Part 8}

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Pairing: Itachi Uchiha x fem!Reader

Note: Welcome back, lovelies! I'm the slowest writer out here on Tumblr :') Expect some drama for Part 8 of the series!!! By the way, when I ran this through Grammarly, the tone detector said "Worried" :DD Right now, besides Itachi, we have Shisui the Nice Cousin and Kakashi the Cool Senpai involved. If you could give Itachi a nickname, what would it be? Mine is Itachi the Clown :D Comment yours below! I hope the taglist works this time! Enjoy, and stay calm!

~~/ /You stood contemplating at the front steps until someone called your name from afar.

“Hatake… senpai?”/ /~~

Kakashi frowned upon seeing you, “You’re supposed to be resting in the hospital.”

Now you finally realized that it was him who carried you to the hospital after you fell. You unconsciously touched the white bandage around your head and stuttered, “Thank you for bringing me to the hospital, but I’m alright, I...got discharged already.”

“And they let you go with the hospital gown?”

You froze on the spot, lips quivering in the night. Just when you mustered your words, the door to your house cracked open and Itachi came out, “Kakashi-senpai? You’re here already, please come inside, we’re all waiting for you.”

His eyes swept across you, and you flinched. He slightly furrowed his brows when he spotted the sickly bandage around your head but the man did not say a word about it. Itachi’s gaze was as cold as steel, making you step back several steps before bumping into the silver-haired.

“I’m sorry,” you babbled, turning around to apologize.

Kakashi looked at Itachi then back at you, seeing the sophistication laced within your relationship, he could not help but question, “Is Y/N a guest, too?”

“I-I’m,” you hesitated, suddenly remembered one of the terms of the contract, “no, I’m just passing by—”

“Kami,” came a high-pitched voice from inside. It was Izumi. “Y/N, why are you out here? Itachi told us that you would be making dinner but we never saw you! Oh, hey Kakashi-senpai! Come on inside, it’s cold out here!”

You felt sick all again, not being able to withstand Izumi’s affectionate gaze when she looked at your husband. The two of them were like the true owners of the house—the very one that you shared with Itachi. You lowered your eyes and stared at your feet. “I just remembered that I have something to take care of, I’ll leave first. Please enjoy—”

“Stop right there.” “Wait!”

Itachi and Kakashi raised their voices at the same time. You did not dare to lift your head and Kakashi sighed. He took off his flak jacket and draped it over your shivering shoulders. He then glanced at Itachi with a stern face, “You better explain everything, Itachi.”

Your husband’s eyes darkened as he marched toward your direction with Izumi following close. The closer he got, the farther you scooted away from him. Kakashi noticed that you were getting uncomfortable and spoke as he pulled you behind his back, “You can talk from where you’re standing.”

“Y/N,” Itachi slowly exhaled, “she’s my wife.”

“Wife?”

For a moment, the silver-haired thought that his ears were fooling him. But looking at your figure cowering and Itachi’s serious face, it finally dawned on him that you were indeed his junior’s spouse. Kakashi then gave him an exasperated glance, “Your wife is burning with a fever and almost bled to death. Where have you been?”

Itachi was taken aback, surprised even. Normally, the hospital would contact the patient’s family members but no one in your family received anything from them regarding your critical condition. He breathed out, “I never heard anything.”

At this point, Izumi was tensing beside Itachi though she managed to cover her uneasiness underneath a bright smile. “We can talk once we’re inside, it’s better for Y/N.”

The woman was desperate to pull you into the ongoing gathering and you were certain that her motive was to humiliate you in front of his friends and other officials that were present. You whispered softly, “I think I shouldn’t be here tonight. I should go back to the hospital. Hatake-senpai, you’re right, I sneaked out to get back because I didn’t fulfill my task to prepare dinner for the guests. But I guess it’s not necessary anymore, sorry for causing such a commotion.”

“And Itachi,” you looked at your husband in grief, “it doesn’t really matter if you knew about my condition or not. You would think that I made it up to get your attention anyway. And I’m recovering quite well, so there’s no need to press it any further.”

“…I’ll get you back to the hospital.” Kakashi took a hold of your wrist when you turned around.

“I’ll send her back.” Itachi grabbed your other wrist, “Kakashi-senpai, please make yourself at home, I will return soon.”

When the raven-haired yanked you backward, your back collided with his warm chest and you felt his breath ghosting past your cheek. You tilted your face upward to glare at the man, but when you did, your lips accidentally brushed against his chin and your eyes widened. Your breath hitched as you turned away from him, head hanging lowly. Itachi suddenly took the flak jacket off of your shoulders and handed it back to the silver-haired, replacing it with his own jacket before leading you out.

Izumi could not do anything but accept it, gritting her teeth as she glowered at you from behind, closing the door once Kakashi got inside. You did not have the energy to utter a single word, walking quietly after him. Itachi was in deep thoughts from the moment the two of you left for the hospital, and you were not in the spirits to question anything other than trying to keep up with his demanding speed.

When you registered back at the hospital, the staff members were relieved. They immediately took you back to your room to make sure you were doing alright.

“Excuse me, when Y/N first came here, did you notify her family members?” He questioned the woman at the reception desk after the nurse took you away.

The receptionist looked at Itachi incredulously, flipping through her notes, “Of course we did, we always notify patients’ relatives when they are hospitalized, especially when the person that brings them to the hospital is not their relative.”

“When was she admitted?”

“Y/N…half-past ten in the morning.” The woman lifted her glasses and spoke professionally, “Kakashi Hatake and her co-worker brought her in.”

“And when did you notify her family?” There was concern and unrest in his voice.

“Oh, I remember now!” She exclaimed, “For her case, it was a bit different. One of her family members was present at the hospital at that time so we went ahead and notify her instead.”

“Her?”

“Yes, Izumi Uchiha to be specific.”

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

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @darling-imobsessed @animepickle7 @simping-master-69 @tirzamisu @rinnegankakashi @the-tiniest-one @greenshirtimagines @madaraswittleslut @saturn-falls @adeards @kishimoto-did-us-dirty @oneofsummersday @iluvjessemac @baby320 @byyalady @rory-cakes @brnel58 @kootmblr @aireenmoon

[babbushka]

Watch Dog

Mob!Kylo Ren x F!Reader

(Inspired by the most recent edition of Writer Wednesday hosted by the kind @autumnleaves1991-blog!)

2k, cw: pre-official relationship, very mild angst (mutual pining), possessive feelings; NSFW (voyeurism, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, phone sex)

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

He smokes his cigarette, in the car.

Plumes of grey spill out of the sliver of space that the cracked window gives way to, crisp cool night air keeping him sane, keeping him calm. It’s hard to remain calm when you’ve been threatened in the way that you have – but that’s why he’s there. He’s there, keeping guard per your family’s orders, and that means nothing and no one will harm you.

Still, each and every movement in the dark park he sits and hides in alerts him, alarms him. Kylo’s finger is poised on his gun, ready to unleash his pent up fury on those who would dare harm you. He has been out here, in this park, watching and waiting for nearly four hours now, and…nothing. That was good, he thinks, but deep down, a part of him wishes with a sick sort of hope that someone would happen, so he could show you. He wants you to know how deeply he cares for you, how strongly he loves you. He wants to kill and main and hurt those who would hurt you, he wants you to see it, see what he’s capable of.

So he smokes his cigarette, in the car.

And he waits.

It’s empty, a Wednesday night strangely quiet. Springtime usually meant that Manhattan couldn’t stop bustling with activity, but this is not the case tonight. The park is closed and it is quiet, and Kylo smokes. He’s got the car turned off, no radio or even the hum of the engine to keep him company. He knows some of the other guys can’t do stake-outs like this without a partner to chat away the hours with, but Kylo has no interest in sharing the vision of you with anyone else, so he is alone.

Alone and waiting, for something to happen. His car is parked on the curb across from the townhome safe-house where you’re staying. When the death threats came, your family immediately decided to move you to a more secure location, and they had chosen here. Kylo didn’t agree with it, and he still doesn’t – he isn’t so sure that you’d be safe anywhere other than his arms.

But that would require him to suck it the fuck up and tell you how he feels about you, and he’s not so sure he can do that, not right now, not yet. He’s twenty-five and in love with you, stupidly, painfully in love with you. He has been for twenty of those years, even before he really knew what love was. Your family was extremely close with his family, and he knew that it would be a union that the underground crime world would rejoice about…but he has no way of knowing whether you feel the same way about him.

If the syndicates were a monarchy, you would be the princess of the mob. Beautiful and powerful and ruthless and so sharp, a lie detector and expert interrogator by the time you had graduated high school. Grown men bowed their heads and kissed your ring when you passed, and Kylo? Well, he’s nothing more than muscle, brute blunt force and unhinged rage. He could never deserve you, would never be able to earn your gentle quick witted love.

Which is why he takes every opportunity to be close to you, why he always has, and why he always will. For if he is destined to do nothing other than protect you, he will protect you with every fiber of his being.

He protects you now, sitting in his car, watching, waiting.

It’s late enough that you should be asleep, so when his trained eye catches movement from your bedroom window, Kylo immediately tenses. Holding his breath, he stares out into the lamp-light illuminated street, hunting for danger, daring the threat to make itself known so he can blow their brains out on the pavement.

Your figure comes into view then, a silhouette behind your closed curtains as you turn on a small lamp of your own, your body backlit through the window. Kylo’s cheeks burn with shame the moment he realizes that you’re slipping off your nightgown; he knows he should look away, he needs to give you your privacy…but the contours of your body are intoxicating, mesmerizing. He can’t see much at all, not really, just the shape of you, your details obscured by the curtain, but he can see so much more than he ever imagined. The curve of your breasts, the slope of your back, the line of your arms as they raise up in a stretch that has your body twisting and turning in a way that has Kylo’s mouth watering.

He doesn’t even know that he’s tugging at the belt on his jeans until he’s got his hand shoved inside his briefs, pulling his cock out and hissing around the sudden friction, the cool night air on his exposed skin. Kylo doesn’t look down at himself, doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you as he watches you move around in the safe-house. From one window to the next you go, and Kylo can picture it clear as day in his mind, how beautiful you are, stark naked like this.

It’s creepy, he’s being a creep, he knows, but he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop, he loves you so much, it’s overwhelming, god he’s so fucking hard. He exhales sharply through his nose as his fist speeds up, because he thinks, god he hopes that he can see the silhouette of your hands rubbing up and down your chest, and his mouth waters as he pictures himself squeezing and groping you instead.

Suddenly – a loud ringing jolts him out of his daze, and he releases his hard cock like it’s a brand he’s just been burned with. Blinking and choking on his cigarette, he whips his head around for the danger, for the noise, only to see it’s coming from an old payphone next to his car. Pulse rabbiting in his throat, Kylo regards the payphone with confused apprehension. He didn’t know that those things still worked in the first place, let alone that they could receive calls.

Casting a glance to you, he wonders if it’s a trap. But then, then then then, he sees the shape of your body holding a phone up to your ear, and he wonders if…no it couldn’t be.

Could it?

He tucks himself away quickly, the phone is still ringing, the illuminated booth casting a bright glow through the foggy park. He takes the gun with him just in case, and practically squeezes himself into the phone booth, picking it up and silencing the ring.

“Do you like what you see?” Your voice is breathy on the other line, and Kylo has to brace himself, because you sound wrecked, you sound just as horny as he feels.

“I can’t see very much.” Kylo admits, and you chuckle. The sound is warm and spreads through Kylo’s body like wildfire, fills him to the brim with adoration, an obsessive sort of worship. He wants to hear you laugh again, he wants to hear everything.

“How about now?” You tease, coy and devilish, and Kylo frowns, turns back towards the window just in time to see you tug the curtains open.

“Put that away.” His throat goes dry at once as he hisses out the order that he knows he has no business giving, “Someone else might be looking.”

“You don’t want anyone to see me?” You’re grinning, he can tell by the tone of your voice.

With the curtains open like this, he can see the way the moonlight, the streetlamps, how it all reflects off your skin. He can see the peaks of your nipples as the cool air hits them, watches as they stiffen. Fuck he’s hard, he’s leaking in his jeans, cock straining against the fabric.

“No.” Kylo grits out between clenched teeth, a possessive dark curling sensation winding through his veins, makes him shake with want. He watches as your hand travels down down down between your legs, hears the crackle through the payphone as you sigh out a moan.

“Why not?” You already know the answer, you have to know the answer, but you want to egg him on anyway, want to get him riled up.

“Because – fuck, (Y/N), I – ” Kylo grunts and groans, cock throbbing and aching for you.

“Are you touching yourself?” You must not be able to see him too well, but the question sparks something horribly hopeful in his chest.

“Do you want me to?” He pants, a silent plea let me let me let me.

“Please Kylo, please, I want to hear you, don’t you want to hear me?” Your voice lowers a register and Kylo’s hand is shoving back into his jeans with lightning speed, his body stuffed inside the phone booth, the hard plastic receiver tucked between his cheek and his shoulder as he tugs and strokes at himself with this new permission.

“Fuck, fuck yes I do.” He whines, groans into the receiver as he trembles around himself, eyes trained on your window, watching as your hand moves faster and faster, trying to time it together.

Suddenly, you lower the phone to your pussy, and Kylo nearly smacks his head on the glass wall of the booth that he can barely fit inside when he hears the squelch of your cunt around your fingers. His vision starts to black out, creeping around the edges of his gaze, and he grunts and groans as he spits down onto his palm and imagines it’s your slick, imagines he could have you.

And then, like some mind reader, you whine and moan into the phone as you lift it back to your own ear, and ask him something that he’s only ever dreamed of you asking; “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your voice curls around his ear, fills the empty spaces between his ribs because he is he is he is, always and forever that’s all he wants to be, but he can’t say it, he can’t get the words out because he knows that once they’re spoken he can never take them back to nurse his pride should you reject him.

“Oh shit, shit (Y/N) I’m going to come.” He groans instead, and you let out a moan at the thought, and then he is coming all over his fist, sticky white ropes splattering onto his stomach.

He feels electric, he feels insane, the way his bones rattle and his nerves spark in that little fucking phone booth that he sullies and dirties with his sweat and spit and come, fuck there’s so much come everywhere – are you coming?

Blinking through the sweat from his effort, Kylo strains to look at you through the window once again, your perfect body on display. No one is around to see, thank fuck, no one is looking at you. Kylo would kill them all, if they were.

He must have missed you coming, because your hands are away from your body, pulling the curtains closed once more.

“Will you be here all night?” You breathe, panting into the phone.

“As long as you need me.” Kylo replies before you’re even finished asking him, and you chuckle.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m never going to stop needing you.” You admit, and the admission blooms hope in his chest once again. Maybe maybe maybe, maybe you love him too. He can barely fathom the thought, his mouth runs dry like the come that begins to crust up on his shirt.

“That’s fine by me.” Kylo rushes to say, and you chuckle again, post-orgasmic bliss warm in your voice.

“It is?” You have hope in your throat too, and Kylo nods, wondering if you can see the movement.

He knows he’ll go back to his car and sit and wait and watch for danger that may or may not come, when he hangs up the phone. He knows he’ll clean himself off and change his clothes and in the morning he’ll take you to breakfast and he’ll ask you what you mean, what exactly you mean.

But for now, it’s enough to hear your soft laughter and watch your silhouetted body move back to the bedroom. It’s enough to know that you believe him when he nods his head, when he tucks himself away, when you declare with all the sincerity that he can muster, offering his loyalty to you in as many ways as he can, when his deep voice rumbles and promises in that little phone booth, “I’m your watch dog.”

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

Taggin' some Kylo loving friends :) @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @slut-for-harri @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa @lovinghufflepuffgirl @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @cowgirl1234 @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen

[dizzydennis]

Sonic x Rouge Cover Story (Part 2)

Translator note: Thank you for checking out Part 2 of Rouge’s cover story. I have no idea why it was separated like this, but it’s fine in the end. I am not fluent in Japanese and I am still learning how to be a better translator. Please note that there will likely be mistakes in my work here, but I hope you enjoy the story. Also, I am busy with work and didn’t have the luxury of working on my laptop for this one. While riding a Shinkansen, I typed this out on my phone. If there are any mistakes, please forgive me.

Within the center of Eggman Land, there is a deep vertical hole deep in the ground that goes over 100 meters down.

This was the site of the “Gaia Temple.”

The temple, which once stood for the "healing" of this planet, was tucked into the underground of Eggman Land, but emerged during a big battle and is now sleeping deep in the depths of the planet.

At the bottom of this hole was a figure that landed silently. After looking around carefully, this person said in an overly satisfied tone:

"Huh. It seems that all those robots that gathered together to get Sonic. All for little ol’ me! ♪"

This person was Rouge the Bat. When she looked at the radar she was carrying she could see Sonic was a ways off; just as planned.

"Everybody should get a friendly little hedgehog friend!~"

It seemed certain that she pushed the enemy towards Sonic and to drive them as far away as possible. Then, on the contrary, Sonic was heading for this very spot.

Soon after reaching the deepest part of the tall rock spires of the temple, Rouge found a stone that was dimly shining through the darkness, picked it up, and gracefully pressed it against her cheek.

“I finally found you! And you’re just such a cutie!”

"... Who are you talking to and what are you saying?"

When asked from behind, Rouge looked blankly forward with the stone still on her cheek.

"Oh ...? Did you abandon your work? That’s pretty naughty, Sonic."

Rouge's expression, as she slowly looked back and asked, returned to her usual graceful smile.

“Well, I know you’re the worst kind of lady and I couldn't help it," Sonic answered with an obnoxious grin.

Knowing the location of the Chaos Emerald with the energy detector, Sonic noticed Rouge's plan to use him to allow her a chance to take the gem and so… he quickly showed up here.

The communicator that was informing her of his position would still be spinning on rotation.

"So, what are ya going to do with that Chaos Emerald?"

Rouge smiled and returned without any fear.

"Well, I was thinking that I’d bring it home … What do you say to that?"

Rouge continued, shifting her gaze from the ring on Sonic’s left hand to the Chaos Emerald.

“You’ll soon realize the value of a better gem when one comes around.”

With that said, she slammed a smoke bomb, that she took out from in-between her breasts, on the ground.

<< BANG! >> >>

The area was covered with white smoke.

"Hey! What about our deal earlier!?"

When Sonic shook off the smoke, Rouge had already grabbed on to a large escape balloon and was rising into the sky.

"... Well that takes care of that! My investigation has already ended ♪ You were very useful for the time being, so I will share my intel as promised. Eggman Land’s power restarted because of that seven-colored shooting star ... and the Chaos Emerald accidentally fell here. "

The setup was a little crazy, but Rouge got the Chaos Emerald anyway. She began talking to earn time to escape.

“Well look at that, the Gaia Temple that was previously here was also a power spot for the Chaos Emeralds, right? Perhaps because of that, it seems the underground temple responded to all that Chaos Energy and began to spread energy around the area.”

Sonic didn’t seem to move at all.

"Well, I gave it some thought... If I were to come down here then I might happen upon a Chaos Emerald myself.”

So that was it. Sonic began to speak back.

"OK, but the Chaos Emeralds don’t really belong to anyone. They’ve just been used by some of us when the world was really in a pinch.”

It didn’t matter to Rouge as she let out a soft, “But…"

"But what?"

“But… isn’t it just great to be able to dig in and steal it?”

The next moment Sonic grinned as he dashed towards Rouge.

"!?"

Sonic used the slopes of the rock pillars to spin dash into the sky. As he crossed by Rouge, he grabbed the Chaos Emerald right from her hand.”

"Oh! You thief!"

With a wink, Sonic fell to the bottom of the vertical hole with a huge smile across his face. Rouge was at a loss for words and swooped down to catch up to him!

<< RUMBLE ...! >> >>

Suddenly, all the lights in Eggman Land shut off and the planet shook violently.

A plethora of dazzling streaks of light rose from the very bottom of the vertical hole. The lights shot out in countless directions, and the entire place was engulfed with light once Sonic landed.

The five Chaos Emeralds that Sonic had in his possession started to shine brightly as if they were responding to the lights below.

"What is this......!?"

A glow returned to the darkened and drained Chaos Emeralds.

Maybe it's because five Chaos Emeralds were gathered in the same place where the Gaia Temple used to be. Perhaps it was because Sonic has a deep connection with the temple. Either way, some slumbering power had “found” the Chaos Emerald.

Rouge, who was watching this from the sky, was completely awestruck at such a beautiful scene.

Moreover, the darkness that has spread across the entire temple was washed out as huge particles of light seemed to cut out through the engravings along the side of the large hole. They became even more gorgeous as they shined in seven bright colors.

It looked like a fancy jewel placed on top of high quality black velvet fabric.

"...!"

Rouge glanced at its beauty with longing eyes as she let out a sigh.

For the realist that Rouge was: gems that are unobtainable are truly worthless. However, the hint of "better jewels" still being out there made Rouge happy.

... She could hear Sonic calling from far below her feet.

"Hey! Are you going to come back for it?”

Sonic was shouting with the Chaos Emerald in his hand. It was if he wasn’t going to put up a fight at all.

Of course, she wasn’t going to give up on this real jewel. Right now, no matter what went down in Eggman Land, people’s hearts don’t change. Rouge squinted her eyes and made a confident smile. She pretended to give up and assessed her chances for a surprise attack.

“Well… I lost. I don’t need a sneaky hedgehog’s emerald anyway! Besides—”

<< Crack ...! >> >>

As Rouge flew, the circumference of the hole began cracking apart as the planet shook again.

<< RUMBLE ...! >> >>

"What!? What’s happening this time!?”

A vertical hole that was originally struck in an unnatural shape ... I couldn't stand the torrent of light. The vertical hole couldn’t withstand the barrage of light. The buildings and attractions of Eggman Land fell as if they were caught in an avalanche. The whole thin collapsed.

...... Now’s the time to strike!

If Rouge could get off a surprise move now, she could possibly get all five of Sonic’s emeralds! However, Sonic was able to avoid a giant Eggman statue that had collapsed and fallen in. Sonic slipped back and fell into the smoke.

Sonic would be fine in a situation like this. Rouge, however, concentrated all of her cunning towards an overhead surprise attack once the smoke settled.

But then ...

"I'm sorry to have kept a lady waiting, but I can’t give much more of an apology, right? By the way, what were you trying to tell me earlier?"

Rouge was hearing Sonic's cocky voice from the communicator.

Rouge dropped her head in sadness. Sonic had already escaped. Also, his communicator must was very far away from where he was ... Rouge realized that it was impossible to catch up with him.

Really, this guy does every single thing he wants to, doesn’t he?

"It's so annoying. I now have nothing!"

Saying that, Rouge got rid of her communicator and let her escape balloon go too. She then angrily flew into the sky.

Sonic, on the other hand, almost instantly returned to his usual demeanor with a cheeky expression. Before running off, he left a last message on his communicator despite the fact that nobody would hear it.

"Well, Rouge. Did you enjoy yourself today?"

The night was soon erased by a wave of light. Morning had come to Eggman Land, the place for hopes and desire.

The amusement park, which welcomed two guests during its bustling night of resurrection had collapsed and fallen completely silent. Now, it seemed nothing more than a set of ruins. Casting a dark shadow onto the new morning.

With that in mind, Rouge, who ended up going home empty-handed, was flying in the sky with horrid thoughts in her mind. However, she suddenly went silent when she thought about the jewel of light she saw.

Even so, it was overwhelming. That unrealistic beauty it had... What if Rouge could just know how valuable it was?

"... Well, you’ll just have to find it for yourself then!"

"Motivation" is the "ideal jewel". Maybe there was some value in this, depending on how you think about it.

Let's leave things as they are. Rouge was in a good mood as these thoughts raced through her mind. She then flew off into the sunrise.

“I'll definitely get all the jewels I want anyway! All jewels in the world are my mine to keep! ♪”

[ibuki-loves-you]

1st Place Prize: Byakuya Togami Comfort One-Shot

Warnings: Mentions of bullying and poor mental state

Mod Ibuki: Hi!!! Long delayed prize for @himbo-only-zone ! So sorry this took a while, I hope you enjoy!!!

Today was not a good day.

Everything seemed to be so dark. You couldn’t focus on anything because you were too busy being stuck in your head, and not in a good way. Your head was in the clouds.

Dark, dreary, rainy clouds.

That’s what lead to your current position, in your dorm bawling your eyes out. Because god forbid anything goes fucking right.

Your phone had been going off for at least 10 minutes now. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at it, not a care in the world for whoever was trying to contact you. A knock on your door broke you out of your depressive stance momentarily. You looked up towards the doorknob, then right back down into your lap.

“So help me Christ, Y/N. If I have to, I will make one single phone call and get this door ripped off its hinges.” A voice called from the otherside of the door. You let out a small whimper. He was the *last* person you wanted to see you like this. He would probably spit in your face and call it a day. The voice huffed and tapped the tip of his shoe on the door. “Would you please open the door? I wasn’t lying about getting it ripped off, but I’d rather not talk to someone I don’t want to.” You sighed shakily and stood up slowly, walking towards the door. You grabbed the doorknob and unlocked it, hesitantly opening the door a crack.

“What, Byakuya?” You mumbled hoarsely. Byakuya furrowed his eyebrows and pushed the door open wider.

“You aren’t seriously talking to me like tha-” He paused for a moment, looking you up and down in confusion. His mouth opened and closed. Taking too long to speak, you went to shut the door. At the last second, he shoved his shoe in the door frame to prevent it from shutting.

“Byakuya-” You started. He pushed the door open again and sighed.

“I apologize, I’m sure that seemed a bit...judgemental. I assure you, I wasn’t judging. I was just, in shock.” Byakuya looked down at you and adjusted his glasses. He went to place his hand on your shoulder, but took it back at the last minute with a sigh. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, comforting isn’t really my strong suit. Shocking, I know.” You let out a small giggle, perking a small smile from him. “Are you alright? No need to lie, I’m practically a walking lie detector.” Your smile fell and you looked towards a little knick knack on your shelf. You reached out and took Byakuya’s sleeve, pulling him into the room. You shut the door behind you two.

“I just, had a bad day. Wasn’t feeling great. Got picked on. Wasn’t fun, at all.” You laughed sadly. Byakuya held up a finger, silently telling you to hold on.

“You got what?” He asked.

“Picked on?” You responded. Byakuya huffed.

“By who, pray tell. I want names, first and last. I assure you, nothing will happen to you after I am finished-” Byakuya started.

“Byakuya! I’m not giving you names! It isn’t a big deal, seriously.” You assured, a sense of panic in your tone. Byakuya scoffed.

“Not a big deal, do you have no respect for yourself? You don’t deserve to get insulted by incompentent beings with little to no brain cells.” Byakuya argued. You shakily sighed.

“Byakuya, please. Don’t do anything.” You pleaded. Byakuya looked at you like you had four heads. After a second he shook his head.

“I’m dropping it for now, but don’t expect me to forget.” Byakuya said, making direct eye contact. You nodded and silently thanked him, for now at least. Byakuya moved to sit on your bed, crossing his legs with his ankle resting on his knee. You walked to the same spot and sat next to him, fiddling with your hands. Byakuya looked at you and frowned.

“I genuinely don’t like seeing you sad. I’m getting these pangs in my chest and I just dislike it. So, what do you need from me?” Byakuya went on, tilting his head down to get a better look at you. You shrugged softly. Byakuya sighed and very slowly opened his arms. “Do you...need a hug? I won’t wait forever for an answer, so you have three seconds-”

Before Byakuya could finish, you practically latched onto him. Your arms were around his neck, the side of your head against his cheek. Byakuya gasped at the sudden touch, not nearly used to it. He wrapped one arm around your waist and the other rubbed up and down your back in an attempt to comfort you further.

“...Although it may not seem like it, I care for you. Quite a bit. I don’t like seeing you upset, so please don’t hesitate to come to me when you feel like this. I’ll...try to get better. For you.”

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

In the Edgeoworth-Wright roleswap au, I wonder what Phoenix’s dynamic would be if Franziska became his sister. I feel like Miles gave Franziska a childhood in their “gifted child environment” and Phoenix would’ve done the same. 

I noticed in the Ace Attorney games that Phoenix functions for someone: Miles, Dollie, Miles again, Maya, Ema, Pearls, Trucy. Grieving for the death of his only parent and being whisked away to an unfamiliar place, child Phoenix might set it aside to reach out for the bossy younger girl who is too proud to admit she is lonely.  

Phoenix learned early that one way to disarm Franziska when she would be angry was humor. Lightening up the situation when the pressure for perfection becomes too much becomes his early turnabouts. 

Since he never had a sister before and Franziska reminds him of royalty, he would gently tease her by calling her “princess”

The gist of it as children would be:

Franziska: Ugh. What is that tone, little brother?

Phoenix: Uh, affection?

Franziska: Disgusting. Continue. 

Just as Manfred tried to drive a wedge between Miles and Franziska by making them compete with each other and partly failing because they both share the burden of his abuse, the same thing would be done for Phoenix and Franziska.

Franziska would be stressed at how harder their home environment would be to Phoenix as his own person and feeling responsible as the “older sister”. Phoenix not wanting her to feel responsible for him and trying harder after. 

Franziska being furious that Phoenix was “not taking her seriously” whenever Phoenix would be half-hearted in the competitions Manfred would set for them against each other. 

Franziska wanting to help Phoenix improve as a von Karma but not having the tools to do so when she only knew “tough love” and thus driving a wedge between them. 

The distance between them growing as Phoenix grows up putting on a front just to survive the household. He still calls her princess every time she calls him little brother.

Franziska developing a better bullshit detector due to Phoenix becoming the master of misdirecting demands, questions insults from her father which Phoenix would sometimes used on her when she would demand von Karma perfection from him.

Franziska knowing Phoenix is drained when he is no longer cracking smartass comments. (Franziska would also have more dry humor than in canon, courtesy of Phoenix rubbing off on her.)

Franziska getting mad at Phoenix’s recklessness every time she would hear of him during his work with the Interpol agents. “If I hear another call from a hospital, I would maim you myself, Phoenix “Wright” von Karma!”

Someone asking Franziska “Why is your brother still alive?” and her answering, “Nor heaven nor hell wants him.” And she prefers it that way. 

[veworfield]

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[justinewt]

One World, One People - MARVEL REWRITE Chapter Nineteen

 [MARVEL REWRITE-MASTERLIST] - [THE MULTIVERSE SAGA]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (??/??)

Summary: TBA

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: TFAWS spoilers (episode 6 specifically), Marvel phase 4 spoilers, angst, some violence, fighting, injuries, deaths, inspirational speech, FLUFF

“I’m almost there.” Sam told them over the radio as Bucky and Frainn walked towards the building, all geared up with their suits on.

“What’s the plan?” Bucky inquired, looking around them as if he was scanning the area and the people there. Frainn was really just staring ahead with a straight face, glancing over at Bucky every now and then.

“Karli’s gotta be close. Keep your eyes open.”

“Well, it could be anybody.” He retorted.

“Sergeant Barnes. Staff sergeant Lokadottir.” Soldiers positioned at a checkpoint in front of the building greeted the two former soldiers as they let them through. She almost never used her military title, so she wasn’t very used to it still, but she didn’t react at all, showing no emotions on her porcelain face while Bucky didn’t reply or say anything either, frowning as he kept observing their surroundings.

“And by the way, I called in some backups.” Sam added. Frainn felt movement behind them and looked from the corner of her eyes, not turning around until the person spoke up and she stopped in her tracks suddenly, leading to the man almost running into her.

“Excuse me, sir, ma’am—"

“You can address me as sir too.” She gave a tight smile, feeling something was off with the guy. The man held up his hand to his face and kind of tapped on his temple before taking off his beanie and pulling something from his face, revealing Sharon underneath.

“Relax. It’s just me.”

“Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” Bucky asked, surprised to see her away from Madripoor.

“No one’s looking for me here.” She reassured, even though Frainn wasn’t really thinking of the agent’s safety. The goddess didn’t care much. Sharon led the two towards the building, so they wouldn’t just stand there.

“Is that Sharon?” Sam wondered.

“Unfortunately.” Frainn replied keeping a light tone of voice so as not to make it awkward if she came off as suddenly bitter and hateful towards Sharon. She just didn’t like the blonde woman, for some reason.

“Hey, Sal. I thought I’d get the band back together.”

“Thank you. You’re risking a lot coming here.” He said, expressing his gratitude to her over the radio.

“I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”

“Depends on the therapist.” Bucky retorted with a straight face, looking around as Sam continued talking.

“They’ll move on the building soon. Be ready.” Frainn nodded, listening to their friend’s words, crossing her arms over her chest in a sigh. It was going to be a long night and she didn’t exactly look forward to it, but neither did Bucky, Sam, or even Sharon for that matter. Bucky and Sharon eventually entered the building and Frainn followed suit, sticking with her long-time partner while the former SHIELD agent went another way, to cover more grounds in finding where Karli was at the moment. “Sharon, Bucky, Frainn, what’s going on on your end?”

“Nothing. All quiet.” Bucky informed him.

“No one’s moving towards the building.” Sharon added.

“Karli’s not coming in. She’s trying to force everyone out.” Sam said and Frainn frowned a bit, watching their surroundings as they marched. “You guys are gonna have to do something. Don’t let ‘em out of the building.” They walked through a metal detector upon entering the building and Bucky and Frainn stopped in surprise when the latter beeped at Sharon’s passage. Bucky’s arm was made of vibranium, which wasn’t a metal that could be detected by those machines and Frainn’s spear was something that wasn’t even of this earth, so of course it was Sharon and the possible gun she had on her that made the machine go off.

“Oops.” She muttered. Bucky and Frainn were quick to change their focus and brush off this minor incident, as they had something more preoccupating and urgent to think about.

“Here’s one of them.” Bucky noted. “I’ll get the evac.”

“I can take them out.”

“I know. But be careful.” He sighed, seemingly not wanting to argue with her about engaging with the enemy right now. She was a bit surprised that he was willing to let her go after them without trying to make her change her mind and just stay with him as he tried to locate Karli but maybe he felt that she needed some action right now and in any case, she was clever and cunning, she wouldn’t cause a mess if there was no need and even if she did, she could cover it up with her magic and no one would notice until she lifted the trickery. Frainn nodded at Bucky, and they parted ways. She disguised herself as the man Bucky pointed at a second ago and walked to the area where they had seen him, because it meant there would be more nearby. She eventually found the man and came up to him from behind before before landing a powerful kick to his back, knocking him into a beam of the building. He hit his head hard and fell to the ground heavily as a crack appeared in the concrete or whatever the building was made off and she shrugged, recovering her original appearance. It was fun playing around with her powers, but it was even more entertaining to use her surhuman strength on mundane people.

She wasn’t pleased to inflict pain, suffering or humiliation on anyone she went after, she was only satisfied to see her power and maybe it was because of her father, but she sometimes liked to show off a little. Not necessarily to impress anyone because she didn’t care about people’s praises, not random people’s at least, and really just wanted to challenge herself whenever she had the opportunity to fight. Frainn sighed and in the blink of an eye, a green sparkling light passed over her tall body and she was wearing an outfit similar to her father’s, which she often favored over her own suit, to commemorate him and his memory she would say and it was partially true. But it was mainly because it made her feel greatly closer to him, since it was his signature clothes, and she liked his style a lot so it was with pleasure that she was doing so. It made her think of what Sam told her and Bucky, a few days ago when they left his home in Louisiana. She had to face her demons if she wanted things to get better for her and facing her demons surely meant working on her grief and the tragic and unfair death of her father and entire people. She couldn’t continue to hallucinate her father anytime she would be in front of a mirror and on her own, it was just not viable on the long term and she started to see that. She remembered her uncle, Thor, after he lost Loki and then her in the snap. He was in bad shape, burying himself in his self-loathing and drinking. She didn’t want to do that. For her own sake, but also for Bucky, and Sam.

She advanced in a hallway. The red lights all over the place gave a strange vibe to the building as she walked, which she didn’t like very much. She looked to her side as she passed a corner and a man jumped towards her. It wasn’t like fighting Thanos. She didn’t need the entirety of the Avengers and heroes from all over the galaxy to defeat one man, whether or not he was a supersoldier. She was stronger and more powerful, and those bad guys were no match for her godly self. She grunted as he kicked her chest and she went through a window, breaking the glass and falling on the floor. She stood up like nothing happened, frowning angrily and just tensed her fingers and used her power of telekinesis, throwing him away with force, letting out a growl. She heard the man’s spine crack as it broke while she shook her hair to take the pieces of glass out, annoyed. The glass cracked under her boots as she resumed her walk through the building, thinking of joining Bucky if she couldn't find anything here except uninteresting Flag Smashers jumping from behind the corners. They were maybe super soldiers but in front of her, they were as fragile as any human.

Frainn walked by a fully glazed wall and saw Bucky in the center of the building, a phone to his ear, speaking to someone. She figured it was Karli and teleported herself to him, obviously taking him by surprise as the conversation ended. He looked down at the phone in his hand and gritted his teeth.

“Damn it!” He groaned before he started running and without a question, Frainn followed him. She would ask him later about the call. They rushed down to the parking lot of the building and immediately got on motorbikes parked there.

“Seriously guys, you had one job.” Sharon sneered as she stood nearby, hidden behind a beam.

“You worry about your guy.” Bucky retorted, the two-wheeled engines whirring, and they drove off, exiting the scene. Gradually accelerating their course, the two drove through an alley and passed a guarded barricade, ignoring the calls of the people there. They had to be quick and catch up with wherever the senators were being evacuated to.

“Bucky! Frainn!” Sam called in, grunting loudly.

“We don’t fly, man. That’s your thing.” He replied, taking a turn and stopping the bike for a second, reving the engine before driving off again. Frainn could many things, among which was the ability to teleport herself but without knowing where to, this was a bit useless.  This wasn’t a power she had really worked on in her life so she couldn’t use it to its full potential. She had prioritized powers like her godly ones and telekinesis rather than this one. After a minute, they reached another barricaded zone but this time they couldn’t pass through. Bucky leaned forward on his bike, throwing himself off of it and rolled on the ground while Frainn crouched on the seat of her bike and jumped, landing on her feet when Bucky dragged someone in his fall. It was a Flag Smasher. Around them were the two police trucks in which were trapped all the senators. Bucky and the Flag Smasher started throwing punches and kicks at each other and the goddess analized the surroundings at gods’ speed, figuring out what to do first in that moment. She tensed her fingers, slightly stretching her arms to her sides, bending and cracking the metal of the trucks’ doors so the senators could get out until a fire suddenly blew in her face and she fell and rolled on her side, gasping for air. This was her only weakness and somehow, the Flag Smasher figured that out. The senators screamed inside the vehicules while Frainn was leaning on the palm of her hand, she was suddenly helped up by Bucky who apparently managed to put an end to the fight he was in. When he turned her to face him, he widened his eyes and she didn’t understand but she pushed him away, urging him to help these people. She wasn’t feeling her best, and quite uncomfortable at that but it wasn’t time to worry about her. She would get over whatever seemed to worry the former soldier.

Bucky approached one vehicle and pulled on the damaged doors, forcing them open. Frainn swallowed harshly as a warm sensation starting rose around her face, but she ignored it and helped Bucky as he pulled on the door’s handle. A couple of seconds later, the door gave way and hti the concrete in a metal sound. Frainn generated a clone of herself and took a step back when she saw the fresh burn that ate half her porcelain face. She never saw an injury like this on herself because usually, it would be gone in a matter of seconds, but this was different. It was like a lick from Surtr himself, a burning stain to a Jotun.

“Thank you for saving us.” Frainn looked to Bucky and a man that was inside the truck shook his hand feverishly, thanking him as the others nodded at Frainn, running through the illusion of herself she casted and causing it to fade away and disappear. She was still a little set aback by this sight but regained her composure and let her body take the appearance of her ancestors, her skin going blue and eyes as red as blood, hoping that the burn would go away faster in this form.

“You’re welcome.” Bucky mumbled as the politicians fled the scene and he turned to Frainn, the same worry she saw on his face returning as he looked at her.  

“I’ll be fine. Let’s go.” She declared and turning around, running down the road along with him. She was done playing now, and the Flag Smashers would wish they had never done this, but she saw it as somehow of a punishment for maybe going soft and not going full force against them, as they deserved. She wouldn’t let her guard down again. Bucky rushed at a Flag Smasher pulling a pole from the ground over Walker who was on the ground, holding up a shield and Frainn frowned and narrowed her eyes. The shield was a really shitty makeshift version of Steve’s, and she shook her head and watched the old soldier throw a punch at the Flag Smasher, sending him against a wire netting wall behind him. The man fell to the ground on his side and while Bucky walked towards him as he got back on his feet, Frainn approached, judging that he was fine, so she stayed put until she saw Karli join in on the fight with the pole her peer had pulled from the concrete. Karli repeatly tried to hit Bucky with the pole but the goddess made it fly from her hands, making lose her balance and Bucky grabbed some chains lying on a low wall nearby and hit her in the face. She grunts as she fell. The other Flag Smasher went to kick Bucky and sent him off the construction building. She ran after him as he jumped off in turn, holding a beam in his hands.

She pinned him down, holding the beam against his throat as he struggled against her. He hit her in the jaw with the beam and she groaned, spitting the blood that filled her mouth onto his mask. She cooled down her body, her skin turning blue and her eyes red as it they were completely bloodshot, right up to her pupil, her jaw clenched and frowned eyebrows. She tensed up her hands and got rid of the beam, sending it crashing into a wall, in a thud, raising a cloud of dust. She brought her hand to his neck and held him up in front of her as she got on her feet. His screams piercing through the night. She didn’t have to squeeze much to inflict such pain and when she saw his head tilt to the side, his eyes closed, she just threw him away like he was garbage. She sighed as her body came back to normal when suddenly they heard metal beams creak over them and looked up, only to see a vehicle dangerously hanging over the edge. They exchanged a look and Frainn channeled her telekinesis and wind control and kept the car from falling over until they saw it being very lightly pulled away from the edge for a few seconds so she let go but when Walker fell along with some Flag Smasher, she saw the car gradually plunge into the void when she let out a chuckle of relied upon seeing Sam arriving and helping the car not go down. With her powers, she brought him a little assistance to bring the car back to the top.

She only realized there were people watching when she heard cheering afterwards and she looked around and saw people gathered on the street, some of them holding up their phones and filming the moments, smile stretching their lips. The goddess finally took a second to look at Sam and who she saw wasn’t just their dear friend, it was Captain America. But the relief was quick to fade away when she turned around suddenly after Bucky caught something in his vibranium hand and the two looked at Karli. The moment the girl thought of making another move, the shield came flying around, knocking out the Flag Smasher, all in the blink of an eye. Karli faced Sam, taking off her mask to a disappointed face.

“You of all people bought into that bullshit.”

“I’m trying something different. Maybe you should do the same.” He retorted. Suddenly, a series of sounds of explosions echoed around them, releasing a thick cloud of grey smoke obstructing their vision. People started screaming as a gun was being fired from an upper floor of the worksite. Frainn looked around, unsettled until she, Bucky and Walker heard Sam voice. “This way.” With a clanking sound, Sam put the shield on his back, and the four of them ran in the said direction.

“Hey, Sharon. We’re underground.” Bucky told her over the comms. “We entered the tunnel on William. Heading South.”

“Looks like they’ve split up. Here.” Sam pointed to an adjacent corridor and Walker didn’t even stop in his tracks and just went that way.

“We got it.” Bucky said as he and Frainn followed the jerk with the blonde hair and the hero syndrome. They ran outside and found a few Flag Smashers, masks off, trying to sneak away.

“Mercy bears richer fruit than strict justice.” Walker declared as they walked in front of them. Frainn glanced at him, frowning in confusion. She had no clue if he was quoting someone, in which case she had no idea who it was, or if he had been cooking that one up just waiting to say it to look wise or something.

“It’s a great app.” Bucky added, showing them the phone screen in his hand, hinting as to how the three soldiers got to them. There was a second of silence before police officers arrived from the side and behind them, surrounding them. “Thank you.” He then said, leaving them in the hands of the police before walking away. For some reason, Walker thought it be a good idea to give a friendly pat in Frainn’s back and she just shot him a pissed gaze, pushing his arm away. “Lincoln, really?”

“Great man. Great quote.”

“Not when you say it.”

“Who the fuck is Lincoln?” Frainn asked, out of the blue. Only Walker seemed surprised to hear her ask such a question.

“How can you not know who Lincoln is?”

“I’m not from your realm, dumbass. I didn’t study Midgard’s history, all right?” She groaned.

“Midgard?”

“Ugh, Midgard is how my people named this fucking planet.”

“Lincoln was our 16th President.” Bucky informed her.

“Thank you.” She said in relief, shoting up her eyebrows.

The lights of ambulances and police cars flashed around them with a crowd gathering behind barriers, holding their phones in front of them, filming as Sam descended from the sky, carrying Karli's body in his arms. The rescued Senators watched as well, in silence. It was like no one dared to make a sound until their new Captain America landed softly on the ground and walked forward as a couple of firefighters in dark uniforms brought a stretcher on which he lied the late leader of the Flag Smasher. Bucky, Frainn and Walker took a few steps and Sam walked, ignoring the reporters suddenly trying to get his attention, asking questions after questions in hope of an answer. Bucky leaned against an ambulance and Frainn crossed her arms over her chest, watching Sam talk with a few Senators.

“Sam, thank you so much, from all of us.”

“Sincerely.” One of the senators added. “You did your part in dealing with those terrorists, now we’ll do ours.”

“Are you still going forward with resetting borders?” Sam inquired.

“Our peacekeeping troops will begin relocating people soon. The terrorists only set us back a bit."

"You have to stop calling them terrorists." He said, shaking his head.

“What else would we call them?”

“Your peacekeeping troops carrying weapons are forcing millions into settlements around the world, right?” The man nodded and Sam continued. “What do you think those people are gonna call you? These labels, “terrorists”, “refugee”, “thug”, they’re often used to get around the question, why?”

“Those settlements that happened five years ago, do you think it is fair for governments to have to support them?”

“Yes.”

“And the people who reappeared only to find someone else living in their family home, they just end up homeless?” The senator wondered. “Look, I get it. But you have no idea how complicated this situation is.”

“You know what? You’re right. And that’s a good thing.” He turned to the politician as the latter walked past him. “We finally have a common struggle now. Think about that. For once, all the people who’ve been begging, and I mean, literally begging for you to feel how hard any given day is… now you know. How did it feel to be helpless? Now if you could remember what it was like to be helpless and face a force so powerful it could erase half the planet, you would know that you’re about to have the exact same impact. This isn’t about easy decisions, Senator.”

“You just don’t understand.” He insisted, dismissing the whole speech Sam was giving. He only scoffed and smirked at his reply.

“I’m a Black man carrying the stars and stripes. What don’t I understand? Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people who are gonna hate me for it. Even now, here… I feel it. The stares, the judgment.” He looked at the people standing around him. “And there’s nothin’ I can do to change it. Yet, I’m still here. No super serum, no blond hari, or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better. We can’t demand that people step up if we don’t meed them halfway. Look, you control the banks. Shit, you can move borders! You can knock down a forest with an email, you can feed a million people with a phone call. But the question is, who’s in the room when you’re making those decisions? Hmm? Is it the people you’re gonna impact? Or is it just more people like you?” There was a heavy silence, as the senators had no answer to give to this. Frainn let out a silent sigh, squeezing her arms slightly. “I mean, this girl died trying to stop you, and no one has stopped for one second to ask why.” He rose his voice a bit and pointed at the senator to his side; just a bald old man that really needed to be knocked some sense into to get it, and Sam was brilliantly doing so. “You’ve gotta do better, Senator. You’ve gotta step up. Because if you don’t, the next Karli will. And you don’t wanna see 2.0. People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? Look, you people have just as much power as an insane god,” Frainn felt some people glance over at her, but she knew better. She wasn’t targeted by Sam’s words. “or a misguided teenager. The question you have to ask yourself is, “How are you going to use it?” On these words, Sam walked past the Senators, giving a formal nod at Walker on his way and he came to meet with his two pals. Bucky straightened up.

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was texting and so, all I heard was, um, “a Black guy in stars and stripes”.” He shrugged and the three of them chuckled as they walked away from the crowd behind them. “Nice job, Cap.” He then added softly.

“Thanks.” Frainn let her arms hanging to her side, a smile stretching her lips as they approached Sharon, leaning against a car, pressing gauze against her wound.

“Blocking my light.”

“We gotta get you to a hospital.” Sam exclaimed.

“She’s not gonna listen.” Bucky figured. Sharon glanced at him, panting, before looking down at her stomach.

“It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.”

“Told you.”

“Uh, Cap?” A man called.

“I think he’s talking to you.” Sharon said, breathing heavily and Sam silently chortled. “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there. For what it’s worth, suit looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” He chuckled at the compliment.

“All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky asked, giving looks to Frainn and Sharon. Frainn put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, and they nodded at Sam as they walked away with Sharon, living the new Captain America to do Captain America’s things.

“I didn’t forget my promise.” Sam reminded Sharon before they got too far.

“I really need to do this.” Bucky said heavily, as he put on his coat, standing near the door of their apartment. Frainn was slumped on the couch, her head resting on the back, face turned to the old super soldier.

“I know.” She nodded and he stared at her with an anxious and concerned gaze and he bent over to press a soft kiss on her lips and walked out of the apartment. She swallowed harshly, staring at the ceiling as she heard the lock clicks and his steps becoming more faded and muffled as he stepped away. She eventually stood up and picked up a golden rod sticking out of a bag lying on the floor. In the blink of an eye, it stretched to its full size, hitting the floor suddenly and she froze in silence, thinking the noise must have echoed in the apartment below. She put her spear against the wall and sighed. “Sucks you can’t summon the Bifrost. I wonder how Thor’s doing.”

She pursed her lips, thinking for a second and walked to the bedroom to take her phone lying on the nightstand. She sat on the mattress, facing the window and unlocked it. She looked up “Thor” and “New Asgard” on the search bar and read dozens of articles about this Midgardian Asgard where her people sought refuge after Asgard was no more than a memory. She learned that this New Asgard had become quite the sensation, with lots of tourists going there. She was a bit taken aback, not really knowing what to make of that, having trouble to think that this place was anything like Asgard. She would have to see it for herself someday but it would probably not feel like home. Yes, Asgard isn’t a place, it’s a people, thank you Heimdall, but she found her real home and it’s not among Asgardians or Jotuns. Her home was wherever Bucky was. Her longtime love. Frainn scrolled down the results when she typed “Thor” in the search bar and she found things talking about Jane Foster, and her death. She had been suffering from a cancer and found help in Mjolnir’s power and Frainn’s first thought was literally that it’s power should be too draining for a mortal to channel it and use it, and it was exactly what had happened. It accelerated her condition and she died, sooner than she would have. She looked at the dates of the articles and they all had been written in late 2023, less than 6 months ago.

She felt guilty, like she had let her uncle down, never even checking on him after the last battle against Thanos. She stood up, letting her phone fall and jump on the mattress and opened the windows. The buzzing sound of the cars passing by, honking and their tires screeching on the asphalt and the loud and indistinct chatter of the people walking down the street; it all came flooding in the apartment the moment she opened the window. New York was definitely a restless city and she had seen places more beautiful than this but this place, Brooklyn, was so meaningful to Bucky and her. It was the first sight she ever had of Midgard, where she met Steve and Bucky in the early 40s and where so much had happened. She had more memories of this city on Midgard than of the realm she spent hundreds of years in. She stepped away from the window and stared at her phone, resting on his screen, and bit the inside of her cheek. If Asgard had become such an attractive tourist destination, there must be a number to contact.

She had heard Valkyrie had become king of this place, but Frainn shook her head and walked out of the bedroom, deciding not to try and call anyone, at least for now. She was worried they despised her for ghosting them for so long, after everything that happened but she honestly had so much here already, she was with her family. She sighed at this thought. Thor was her family. He was her uncle, adoptive but her uncle in any case and she didn’t think of trying to reach out to him. She went to the kitchen and opened a drawer to get a bottle opened and she bent over to get a beer in the fridge. She must have been the worst family member to have, and she felt awful for it, but she knew her uncle, and how much he loved Loki, and her. He was probably sad and surely thinking of calling her or going where she was to see her but never did so, for whatever reasons -which were probably the same reasons why she never did so either. It was as if, as long as he wasn’t dead, she didn’t think much about it. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, she was just not worried about him, not like she was worried for Bucky’s wellbeing… or even hers. The ghost of her father still wouldn’t leave her alone and she was running out of ideas as to what to do about it. Maybe a little stay in New Asgard would help her slay her demons.

The warmth and friendliness of the people in Lousiana, was second to none. Sam's home had a beauty that was very different to anything Frainn had ever encountered. She had seen many palaces, covered in gold or made out of ice but nothing so welcoming and genuine. And the colorful and appetizing smells of barbecued sea food where something she had never experienced either; it was an absolute first. In this place, with these people, there was this feeling that she couldn’t do anything but fully enjoy the experience and it was somewhat of a relief after all this tension build-up of the past weeks. Frainn laughed as she watched Bucky try to dodge the blows thrown in the air by Sarah’s kids as he held the cake, they brought with them.

He took off his sunglasses and put the cake on a table he came across when Sam came to meet them. He gave a friendly hug to each of them before going back to taking pictures with his fellow neighbours. Frainn and Sarah chatted, amused by Bucky effortlessly lifting up kids with his metal arm while talking, standing one foot on the table and another on the bench along it in some heroic pose. As the day passed, the energy didn’t seem to tarnish and was just as lively and dashing as when Bucky and Frainn got there but now, they were watching the sun set over the ocean that stretched as far as the eye could see, in Sam’s company and Frainn’s smile couldn’t fade and she wondered what it was about this place but she figured that it was just this way, and it felt really nice. She shot a smile at Bucky and Sam as they went to see some people back at the party.

Frainn couldn’t take her eyes off the pretty colors of the sunset and looked up to the sky. She closed her eyes, breathing in softly and deeply, as she wished she had Heimdall’s vision, just to see the colors of the universe again, and to see how Thor was doing right now. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize Bucky had returned. She glanced to her side when she felt movement nearby and when she turned around, she found him, one knee to the ground.

“Why are you kneeling?” She asked, chuckling as she was genuinely confused and not understanding what he was doing, even when he held up a little box in his hand. Bucky was apparently having a lot of fun in this. It was when she saw the ring that it started hitting her, but she didn’t realize until he spoke.

“Will you marry me, darling?” His soft blue eyes twinkled as they looked up at her face, now very much surprised and speechless.

“Y-yes.” The moment this small and seemingly unsignificant word crossed her lips, everyone on the docks starting cheering, cheered, applauding them as Bucky stook back up and slipped the ring on her left hand. It was only then that her attention focused a little more on the ring; a golden ring with a flower shaped assortments of fine old mine cut diamonds shining to her eyes.

“It was my mother’s. I had a hard time getting my hands on it.” He confessed and she looked up at him.

“It’s absolutely beautiful. I love you, Bucky.” She then went in for a passionate kiss, Bucky wrapping his arms around the love of his life and everyone around them, cheering louder and louder to the bride and groom to be. Frainn had never felt so happy then in the moments she spent with Bucky throughout her life, and she never actually expected this to happen, but she welcomed it with an open heart and a huge smile. He made her full and she was over the moon, and he made it clear to her that he felt the same way. Now, next time she would see Thor, she would have some good news to bring to him, and not just apologies.

[To be continued…]  

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (??/??)

Published (07/27/2022) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64

[thatasianstereotype]

Damn, You’re Looking Fine.

To my utter delight, my crack writing Fuck. I’m Gay. got a good reception. I was not expecting to write more for this AU/pairing. But why not? I got some ideas and a computer to write them down on.

So this fic is the took-a-while-to-put-together sequel. It’s focused on the downfall of one certain Liar-la, Damian wooing Adrien with all the flair and romantics as his Chaton deserves, and Adrien being a blushing hot gay mess. 

P.S. Damian’s formal way of talking is an utter pain to write but hilarious to read.

P.S.S. Creative liberties were taken. Again. I just feel this needs to be mentioned. 

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So Status Update:

Adrien and Damian are definitely dating (It is totally official. Told you ya boi got game).

Adrien still calls him Hot-And-Sexy from time to time much to his utter mortification (He can’t make himself stop. Please send help). And Dami gets amused by it every single time, that arrogant smug jerk.

Marinette still puts the fear of god in Damian and he is wary of her. She feels very proud about that. Adrien wants to facepalm.

Fuck Gabriel Agreste.  

And Lila Rossi is still a bitch.  

Adrien and Marinette were made aware about Damian’s alter ego —well mostly because he is utterly terrified of Marinette’s seemingly sweet (icy) smile she gave him when she politely asked how he obtained the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous and partly because of Adrien’s pouting kitten eyes. 

They truly were a pair to reckon with. 

.

“I am not sure why the Justice League dismissed your concerns and pleas for assistance. So I am taking the initiative. My name is Damian Wayne, the son of Batman and the current Robin and leader of the Teen Titans.”

He’s a superhero too?! And it’s Robin!!! One of his favorites!! Can you hear him internally squealing in excitement?

Adrien bit his lip to keep from fanboying right then and there. But a slight pink hue spread across his face. 

“You’re not lying.” Mari has gotten pretty good at deciphering through people’s bullshit. Whether it’s because she is now a Guardian or because Lila’s bitchiness made her a human lie-detector remains unknown.

Damian took it in stride. “I am not.”

“Paris is still our city.”

“I am only offering my assistance.” He won’t barge in on their superhero duties to the city. He has more class than that.

Mari didn’t have to look at Adrien to know his decision.

She smiled, a bright genuine smile. “Then we’re allies.” Before her eyes gained a spark of mischief and her smile turned teasing. “Hot-And-Sexy.” 

“Marinette!” Adrien immediately covered his blushing bright red face with both hands, utterly mortified. 

His sister was evil. E. V. I. L. And why is Damian smirking and looking so smug? Fuck! He even makes that look completely hot. Curse his Adonis genes. And curse his teenage hormones. 

He regrets introducing the two of them together. What a pair they make. Truly a couple of fur-midable terrors here. 

.

Back to the matter at hand, Marinette is able to ensure that Hawk Moth and Mayura will never be out again and another akuma won’t be made. She already made sure that the miraculous were better protected. 

Damian has enough evidence to put them behind bars for their crimes but Marinette wanted to go through it and make sure that Adrien won’t suffer the repercussions of having a villain for a dad so they held onto it until they figure out how best to protect their sunshine. 

.

Ah Shit. 

“Duusu? Where are you?” 

Did Gabriel lose the miraculous again? 

But when he looked into the last place he left it, he groaned. Fuck. His brooch was a fake again.

He knew he shouldn’t have made a miraculous fashion line and had replicas of the miraculous jewelries made. It was his most popular items to date. He has gotten lot of praises for getting the details just right and capturing the essence of each miraculous holder. No surprise there. He deals with them on a daily basis. He should get the details fucking right. 

It’s a wonder he only came up with a line because there was talk that he was becoming obsolete with no new ideas coming forth and if there is one thing that Gabriel Agreste isn’t, it is being obsolete. 

The line was just a joke, a parody of the heroes and villains if you will, but apparently people like it. Ladybug and Chat Noir were the most popular obviously (he should’ve seen that coming to be honest). Hardly anyone buys Hawk Moth or Mayura and he is left with boxes of fake brooches. 

It is annoying.

Especially since he keeps fucking misplacing his miraculous. 

.

Adrien felt like he could be a Disney princess and just skip his way to school and sing for the world to hear. 

Now that the Butterfly miraculous were safely with Marinette, he doesn’t have to worry about another akuma. He could just die happy right now. His dad doesn’t have a hold over him anymore. He doesn’t have to put up with Liar-la anymore. But if they put up a fuss? Well, worst case scenario is he becomes a Dupain-Cheng. 

And he doesn’t mind. He’s already an honorary one. 

And if that somehow doesn’t work out (which he highly doubts), Damian offered to make him a Wayne. 

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Françoise Dupont High School experienced a shock that morning. Specifically Ms. Bustier’s class. 

When they saw Adrien and Marinette walking in class with arms intertwined, laughing and smiling together. 

What the actual fuck?

Did they cross into an alternate universe? Marinette is a nasty bully and Adrien’s a pure sunshine child. Why would they be acting like they were the best of friends? 

Lila glowered darkly when she saw them walking towards the back and sitting at the same table. Didn’t Adrien care about what his father thinks? Doesn’t he want to still be able to go to school? 

She bit her lip and turned on the waterworks, her eyes close to bursting into tears. She made herself be the very picture of a pitiful woe-is-me victim as she cried out in a hurtful and betrayed tone. “Adrien, what are you doing with her? I thought we were close friends.” 

The sheep class instantly catered to Lila, pointing their fingers at the pair. 

Alya, her biggest supporter, led the charge as always. “Adrien! What do you have to say for yourself? How could you cheat on Lila like this? And with her?” 

Adrien narrowed his eyes at his former friend. Bitch, how dare she implies he was in an actual relationship and had feelings for that harlot. 

Wow. 

He has been spending way too much time around Damian. 

"Yeah, bro!” Kim said, raising his voice. “How could you do her dirty?” 

“Okay guys.” Adrien cut in. “I don’t know where you heard that but me and Lila are not dating. Like at all.” 

“Please.”Alya waved him off like he didn’t know what he was talking about (he was highly offended at the notion he didn’t know what his heart yearns for). “We all know you have feelings for Lila. You’re just in denial over them.”

Bitch, what?

Is no one catching onto his chaotic gay vibes here?  

And oh, how his fragile little heart was betrayed yet again when he saw Nino supporting his girlfriend. He still couldn’t believe the first friend he made all by himself was a part of their rabid pack. He deeply mourned the loss of such a great friend in the midst of that deceiving fox’s claws. 

“How many times do I need to say it?” At this point, Adrien was about to throw hands. “I don’t like Lila like that. I feel nothing but pure spite for her. Also, me and Marinette are not dating if anyone’s wondering. We’re just really good friends.”

“But Marinette’s a big bully.” Alix piped up, a hard edge in her voice. “She treats Lila horribly.”

“Marinette didn’t do anything to her. Rossi is lying.” 

“Oh Adrien.” It was Mylene of all people who spoke up. “Did Marinette get to you with her lies?” 

He was done. 

Completely and utterly done. 

He looked over at Marinette who shared his exasperation at the class’ antics. 

Adrien already said it before. But it bears repeating.

Lila Rossi is a bitch.

Luckily (or maybe unluckily), that was the moment Ms. Bustier chose to step in the room and class started. 

When the teacher’s back was turned, Adrien pulled out his phone and proceeded to spend the rest of the time alternating between taking notes and texting with Damian. 

They were currently at the stage of their relationship to be sending animal pics and memes back and forth, with a few puns added from time to time. 

He really does have the perfect boyfriend. 

.

They cornered him after school. 

One: Rude. 

And two: Double rude. 

He was excited to meet Hot-And-Sexy (daMn iT! It’s Damian! Get it right brain) at the bakery and spending time with his two most favorite people in the world (Tom and Sabine don’t count because actual parents don’t have a ranking). 

His former friends were looking all concerned and everything because they somehow collectively came up with the idea that Marinette actually brainwashed him to believe Lila was evil. 

The fucking irony. 

They actually had the audacity to say that Marinette —sweet and honestly badass Marinette— was no good and just wanted to use Adrien to get ahead in the fashion industry (as if Mari actually needed him for that). He shouldn’t be around her. Lila was a much better person to keep as company. 

Adrien laughed in their faces and left. 

.

Onto happier events, Adrien was having a blast hanging out with Mari and Dami. His boyfriend (he still can’t believe he managed to score such a hottie!) fit right in the everything-that-matters siblings’ dynamics. 

They were in Mari’s room. Adrien was cuddling with Damian on her bed. And Mari was at her desk working on fashion designs. 

“So what’s your family like?” He played with Dami’s hair. It was so soft. Like what the fuck. It is so unfair. 

Damian thought about it for a few seconds. “My family is a bit...crazy. We drive each other insane every other day but at the end of the day, I have no doubt they have my back as I have theirs.” 

“You guys sound close.” 

“We were not always. We had an extensive amount of issues to work through before we actually bonded as a true family.” 

It was quiet for a minute until Damian casually said. “I would appreciate it a great deal if you can make time to visit Gotham for the summer.” 

Adrien stopped playing with his hair to look at him with wide incredulous eyes. “Summer’s only two months away.” 

“I am aware.” 

“You really want me to meet them? Isn’t it too early?” 

“I met yours the day we started dating.” 

True but....

Adrien averted his eyes. “Do you think your family will like me? You guys fight criminals and my dad’s a villain.” 

Damian put his hands over Adrien’s and gave them a light squeeze, making his Chaton look back at him. 

“My mother is a villain and I was raised as an assassin. Yet despite of that, my father accepted me. And I am fairly confident he will do the same to you. Mon amour, you have a pure and selfless heart. You are a better person than I am. I have no doubt that my family will love you from the start. 

“Are you being fur real right meow?” Adrien tried to lighten the atmosphere but he could feel his eyes tearing up. 

"I wouldn’t lie to mew.” 

He let out a small laugh, wiping his eyes. How did he ever get so lucky to land such an amazing guy? “You always know the purr-fect thing to say.” 

“We get it you’re in love. It’s amazing. Now stop it with the puns.” Mari rolled her eyes, utterly exasperated at these idiots who just ignored her and pulled out even more cat puns. “You have got to be kitten me.” 

Before she noticed what she said and groaned in faux despair. “Oh you two are so dead.”

Adrien stuck out his tongue playfully. “You can’t catch me. I got a handsome knight in shining armor to protect me.” 

Damian interlaced their fingers. “Always, mon amour. I’ll protect you from everything like your wicked father.”

“Does that make me the dragon here?” Mari joined in. “Cool. I can breathe fire and torch people. Too bad I can’t do that to a certain liar.” 

“Liar-la is totally the witch here.” Adrien said before thinking for a few seconds. “Does this make me the princess?” 

“Well, knights always have to save the damsel in distress.” Mari said. 

He frowned before crossing his arms indignantly. “Dami, I love you more than Plagg loves his stinky cheese, but I’m no damsel in distress.” 

Damian rolled his eyes. “Tt. Of course not. You can destroy things with a single touch. It would be not be in my best interests to downplay your abilities.”

Adrien relaxed and beamed a sunny smile. “Good. Remember that.” 

“Mon amour, I look for an equal as a partner, not some weak spoiled harlot that can not defend their self.” Damian placed a flower crown (that was just sitting on Marinette’s nightstand, must be one of her projects) on Adrien’s head. “Having said that I do believe you are a prince that deserves all the love and care in the world.” 

And oh my. 

Adrien can feel his face burning scarlet and his heart almost bursting at how sweet this incredible, conceited Adonis was. 

He was falling in love with Damian over and over again each time they meet up. 

“You deserve love too, Dami.” 

And sweet, caring Hot-And-Sexy (Ah, fuck it. He will never grow out of that) placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Oh dear, he didn’t know his face can burned any redder. 

He could almost hear Mari cooing in the background. 

And in case anyone was wondering, Tom and Sabine adores their everything-that-actually-matters son’s boyfriend. Damian Wayne seems like a responsible young lad. And he makes Adrien really happy which is a major plus. Anything that makes their son happy is good in their books. 

.

Lila was not at all pleased. 

Why was Adrien suddenly hanging out with Marinette? Yeah, he doesn’t buy into her lies but she was confident he will be lured into her charms. Why wouldn’t he be? She was young and way more beautiful than a baker’s daughter. He was supposed to be hers. 

She and Gabriel are going to have a talk about his rebellious son. 

Except when she arrived at the Agreste mansion, Gabriel was apparently too busy to see her. 

He was too occupied with searching through boxes of fake miraculous to find Duusu to bother with her. 

“I don’t have time for you.” 

“Excuse me?!” 

She was aghast. How dare he speak this way to his biggest supporter —well, besides Mayura and Nathalie. 

“You’re excused. Now leave the premises.”

Before the door shut in her face and she was left fuming, her face an unflattering angry red. 

.

Being Damian’s boyfriend, Adrien has come to learn that Damian does nothing by halves. Including asking him out on a date. And the actual dates themselves. 

Today as the sun fell down and night came about, Damian and Adrien were taking a stroll in the park. It was relaxing and it was nice. They talked about everything and anything. 

Adrien did not think Damian planned anything more. 

But he really shouldn’t underestimate the son of Batman. 

Because when the last of the sun’s rays were gone, Damian led him to a gazebo strung up with beautiful lights giving the whole place an ethereal feel. And with the bright moon out tonight, it looked like fairies dancing in the garden. 

He didn’t notice Damian pressed play on his phone and classical music filled the air. 

He definitely noticed Damian bowing with a flourished and holding out his hand with a charming smile. “May I have this dance, Chaton?”

Adrien would have to be a huge fool to say no. 

“I’ll loved to.” He placed his hand in Damian’s and let the Adonis lead him in a simple waltz. 

This was his life. 

His life was one big sappy romance novel. And you know what, he doesn’t care if it is. Between dealing with his shitty father and Liar-la, this kitty deserves some happiness. 

.

It was a scene from one of those Disney fairy tale movies Adrien used to watch as kid. The magic. The love. The romantics. He felt like Cinderella and wished this night will never end, that the clock will never strike midnight. He just wanted to stay in his Prince Charming’s arms forever. 

Under the starry night sky, the lovebirds danced to their heart’s content and when another song ended, Damian tilted his head down to place a tender kiss on Adrien’s lips. 

“I harbor a great deal of non-platonic affections for you, mon amour.”

“I love you too, Hot-And-Sexy.” 

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What the fuck?!

Seriously. 

What the actual fuck? 

Lila was simply walking home after her disastrous meeting with Gabriel (She was still not over how he simply dismissed her like she was nothing. How dare he). 

When she saw them. 

Adrien and some guy (she’s pretty sure that was a guy) dancing in the park. She can feel that disgusting jealousy just burning in her veins, a cold anger thrumming underneath. 

Things were not at all going her way. 

First, Adrien is back to being friends with that Mari-whore. Then, Gabriel ignores her. Her. And now, she is seeing her Adrien in the arms of someone else. 

Oh this will just not do. 

She took out her phone from her pocket and snapped a couple of pictures, making sure Adrien can clearly be seen. She didn’t care too much about the other guy. He’s probably just another pretty airhead Adrien knew through his father. He’s not important. 

A cruel smirk appeared on her face at the thought of the perfect revenge. Adrien was going to have a rough time at school tomorrow. After all, he should’ve known better than to make a move against her. 

.

“Seriously?!”

“Wow.” 

“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this.”

“Yeah. Adrien is obviously gay. That’s the only explanation.” 

“....Maybe not? There could be another reason.”

Lila had watery eyes and a sad frown on her face but inside, she was fucking smiling like a Cheshire cat. She made sure to be at school early so she can show the class the picture of Adrien’s little date last night. Who —predictably— were shocked at their sunshine child being with a guy and made plans to confront him about his supposed sexuality. 

She glowed at the thought of her plan working. This will teach Adrien to know his place or become a social pariah like his little friend Marinette. 

“I thought Adrien had feelings for me.” Lila wiped the “tears” from her eyes. “How could he lead me on like this when he’s been gay all along?” 

Alya —predictably— comforted her. “I’m pretty sure he’s just confused. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling.”

“I’m sure that’s it.” 

The pair didn’t notice Juleka and Rose glaring at them. 

.

Damian was not at all pleased. 

He was rightfully angry. 

How dare that poor sense of fashion taste trollop tried to shame his mon amour for being gay. How dare she try to say he was simply confused and didn’t know any better. How dare she defame his reputation because he holds nothing but spite for her person. 

How dare she. 

As Adrien’s boyfriend and future husband, it is his duty to correct this travesty and defend his Chaton’s honor. 

.

When the Damian Wayne, youngest son of Bruce Wayne, appeared at Françoise Dupont High School, you know that people are gonna stare and talk. 

When he headed towards the courtyard where Adrien and Marinette were sitting at, boy are things going to get juicy. 

Lila and her followers who were sitting a bit father from the outcast pair were utterly confused. They could possibly get Adrien knowing such a super hot celebrity but for him to be on good terms with Marinette too? How inconceivable. Absolutely flabbergasted. 

“Hey Lila didn’t you tell us you knew him and his family?” Max brought up. 

“Uhhh....” Lila knew she dug herself in a corner here. She never thought that the Damian Wayne would ever visit here. At this second rate school. 

“Well, let’s go, girl!” Alya exclaimed. “I’m sure Damian just hasn’t seen you. That’s why he didn’t walk towards you.”

Before proceeding to practically drag Lila to where Damian was talking with Adrien and Marinette. 

Lila, on the other hand, was cursing out Alya in a bunch of different languages in her mind while trying to come up with something to dig herself out of this mess. If they talk to Wayne, the class will realize she was lying all along. 

She was not going to lose control of her kingdom like this —well, not without putting up a fight. 

But when they and the rest of their classmates walked close to the trio, they were shocked when they saw Marinette playfully punching Damian in the arm. 

“Okay. How the hell are you so close with Damian Wayne?” Straight off the bat, Alya was on the offense as she glared at Marinette as if it was Mari who did something wrong. 

Damian answered before the bluenette could. His face was impassive and his glare cold. “I’m Ms. Dupain-Cheng’s top model for her fashion business.”

What? 

Even Lila was taken aback at the news. She knew that goody two shoes likes designing but she didn’t think anybody would actual buy her stuff. She didn’t think a Wayne would like her stuff. 

She could feel her fists clenched. How dare Marinette steal the spotlight again. 

“I’m also Adrien’s boyfriend.” Damian continued casually as if that wasn’t a huge bombshell. 

Everyone’s minds screeched to a halt. 

They knew about the possibility of Adrien being gay since Lila showed him on going on a date with an unidentified but clearly male person yesterday. But they didn’t think there was actually something there. 

Lila could feel her anger clouding her mind. Adrien was supposed to be hers. He was her ticket to fame and fortune. 

“And what about Lila? Aren’t you guys best friends?” Alya put her hands on her hips. How could Damian just ignore someone he is close friends with but give Marinette all the attention? Lila deserves better than that.  

Damian was unamused. “I don’t know her.”

“Yeah, you do.” Alya ignored Lila’s gestures to stop talking. Lila was too shy about her achievements and she was going to have her amazing best friend’s back. “She’s the one who helped your family out multiple times.”

“She did not. And I am appalled that you believe I would know a harlot like her in the first place.” Damian’s face twisted with disgust as he glanced at Liar-la like she was a mere insect. “Please. I have class and dignity.”

“Take that back!” She screeched. “You are so rude.” 

“Are you honestly going to lecture me on my rudeness when you plebians are being hypocrites?”

“What? I’m not a hyprocrite.” 

“Lila Rossi is a pathetic liar who begs for attention like street dogs beg for scraps. She never once saved Jagged’s cat nor does she help out with green charities. Lastly, she is not on close terms with myself nor with my family.”

“No! You’re lying!”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Ok then. Look her up on the internet. If she is as grand as you lot seem to think, she should have articles dedicated to her. Show me proof of her actions that isn’t your subpar blog and I will give you an exclusive.” 

Alya’s eyes gleamed at what should be an easy challenge. But when she pulled out her phone and typed Lila’s name and what she did in the search engine, her smile disappeared. 

She spent the next few minutes scouring the net for anything, any mention of a Lila Rossi that wasn’t on the LadyBlog. 

She found nothing. 

Lila Rossi was a fucking liar all along. And Alya and the rest of the class believed her. 

“We tried to warn you.” Marinette said in a soft voice. But anyone who knew her knew she was trying to hold back her laughter. 

“Marinette,” Rose cried out as she realized the class has been total jerks to the one person who always had their backs. “We were horribly wrong. Can you ever forgive us?”

She shrugged. “I forgive you. But this doesn’t mean we’re friends again. Because we’re not. Seeing how easily you drop me for that liar without even looking for any kind of proof hurts and I’m not eager to be friends again. Maybe in the future but not right now.”

“That’s goes ditto for me.” Adrien added his two cents. 

Their former friends classmates wore gloomy expressions, utterly devastated at ruining their friendship with their Everyday Ladybug and Sunshine Child. 

And with that, Adrien and Marinette left the courtyard, with light hearts and heads held high. 

Damian shot the class a razor sharp grin. “Well, it’s been nice to meet you.” 

Everyone knew he meant anything but. 

“I always knew teenagers were prone to be foolish imbeciles. But seeing the collective stupidity of you people today made me realize that the bar can in fact be lowered.” 

.

Adrien was fucking ecstatic. 

Elated. Overjoyed. Jubilant. Drunk on happiness. All the synonyms associated. 

Because Lila was finally exposed. The class realized what utter assholes they have been. His father will receive his due (soon according to Mari and Dami). 

He was happily humming a tune as he swung his and Damian’s intertwined hands back and forth. 

He was entirely grateful that Damian showed up to school today. Although he was a bit mean for Adrien’s taste. 

But oh man. Payback was so sweet. 

He smiled giddily. 

Mister Hot-And-Sexy definitely earned himself a kiss. 

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[white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen]

Cat Burglar Boyfriend

A/N: My roulette wheel landed on Lawmen and Conmen a second time, so clearly this method works! Cheers to my first piece of 2021! Requested by @white-magician​

Summary: Neal reasons that if the FBI didn’t want the benefits of unconventional methods, they wouldn’t employ unconventional consultants. In the process of using said methods, a cat changes the plans and Neal flees to your apartment.

Word Count: 4,651

           The Chelsea complex soared high over gentrified properties and closed storefronts. Though it could boast an impressive list of amenities for a mid-range apartment building in Manhattan, it came just short of magnetic keys. The suspect lived on the seventh floor in an east-facing unit, and thanks to Diana’s investigating, Neal knew that no one would be in the apartment until its tenant returned to New York in two days. He looked good in all black, which worked out especially well in times like this, when he needed to blend in with the dark and get in and out unnoticed.

           With all of the neighbors rightly asleep, it was a cinch to quietly pick the lock and let himself inside. Neal moved slowly, but not so slowly that he wasted time or would look strange if anyone happened to enter the hallway before he had the door closed behind him. A large window with the curtains left open allowed light to filter into the room, but it was still darker than the hall outside, and the thief remained still for a moment as his eyes adjusted.

           Now, there were only so many good places to hide the bank statements he was supposed to retrieve. (Supposed to might be a strong term, but what Peter didn’t know didn’t usually end up hurting him.) Neal knew all the regular tricks; under the mattress, in a sock drawer, in the freezer. Even a safe was possible, and since they tended to be more noticeable, a safe was even preferable. Without a particular time crunch, though, there was no need to be sloppy and run from one likely hiding spot to the other. Neal had all the time he needed to search carefully and systematically, to better make sure that no one would notice he had ever been here.

           He started in the bedroom, where people liked to store their most valuable belongings. It made an intuitive level of sense that what was precious should be stored close by, and no one spent more time in their kitchen than the room where they slept. He started to untuck the linens with gloved hands to raise the mattress when something small moved and he froze like a statue.

           A pair of slitted yellow eyes opened and blinked at him, followed by a brief flash of pink tongue as a small mouth opened in a yawn.

           His heart slowed and Neal smiled to himself. He was getting out of practice if he got that startled by a pet. “Hey, kitty,” he crooned, voice barely above a whisper. Taking just a second of pause, he ruffled the cat’s fur behind its ears. Its fur was so dark that with the lights off, it blended in with the navy duvet – except for the lighter tone of its nose and its glowing eyes.

           He went on with his business, briefly feeling apologetic for having woken the cat. It was unsatisfied with his intrusion on the bedroom and instead of going back to sleep, it stretched out its spine and hopped off the bed, heading out the ajar door. Neal lifted the mattress to feel underneath it, used his flashlight to check behind the headboard, and then felt inside the seam of the mattress itself for any lumps or crinkling. When he found nothing, he tucked the bedding back in and got to work on the twin nightstands.

           A quick but thorough search of the rest of the room, including the closet and dresser, yielded nothing but a mild concern as to why the room’s usual occupant needed so many different sunscreens. Though the bedroom was usually the best place to start, in this case, Neal admitted it was a bust and let himself out. He left the door cracked like he had found it so that the cat could come and go between the bed and its food.

           Speaking of the cat, it had apparently decided he wasn’t so awful, after all. Neal paused to pet it again as it rubbed around his legs, and after he’d given it a few strokes from flank to tail, the furry thing left his side. Neal headed for the next closed door and heard quiet water sounds on his way as the kitty lapped at its bowl. The door opened easily, but the bright red light of a motion-detecting laser caught his eyes straight away. The even line was barely an inch away from the furthest part of the door. It was only a few inches off the ground, and Neal didn’t see any others. He put one foot over it, heard no alarms and saw no lights, and finished his step.

           This room was an office, Neal realized. There were no windows to let the outside light in, so he turned on the lamp whose outline he could barely see. The yellow light hurt his eyes after walking around with moonlight and stars as his guides. The office was crowded but looked well-used, more lived in than the bedroom, even. There was more to search, that was for certain; between bookshelves stuffed from side to side and the desk with barely a square foot of clear space, Neal figuratively rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

           A small blessing was that although the room looked disorganized, the owner was fastidious. Neal quickly found that everything was right where it belonged, it simply needed more space in which to belong neatly. He flipped through heavily-read books to check between their pages, and knocked on the bottoms of drawers for hollow compartments. He found none. Once he had finished with the desk, he turned to the nearest bookshelf and, with a small sigh, began taking books out one at a time and flipping them open, giving papers the opportunity to fall out.

           It was going to take at least thirty minutes to flip through every single one of them. Neal just kept going. He had two full days to find the statements, but every time he came back raised the chances of being caught by a neighbor or building security guard. That meant he had to do it tonight, and do it well. He finally finished the first shelf and started on the second. As if it could feel and sympathize with his increasing restlessness, the suspect’s cat started to rub on his ankles again while meowing at him. Neal murmured a distracted hello and kept going.

           On the third shelf, Neal went to pull a book down when his fingers curled too far over the top and pulled a thick cardboard stand down instead of a book. He turned it to look at it. The cardboard was printed to look like the spines of books pressed tightly side-by-side. Neal quickly raised his eyes back to the shelf where he had pulled it from and saw a small black box that had been hidden behind it.

           “How’s that for clever?” He said aloud to the cat, putting the cardboard piece down carefully on the desk.

           The box wasn’t a safe. It had a small latch on the back that Neal had to take a few seconds to find, but it opened without a key or a combination. The owner clearly thought his cardboard trickery and motion detectors would be defense enough against any nosy burglars. The blue-eyed man grinned. Neal loved winning. He browsed through the papers inside the box and his grin just grew wider, smug. The bank statements were all inside.

           In the distance, a police siren sang. It was muffled from the windows. Out of habit and tension, Neal lifted his head to look towards the open office door. The red laser was still unbroken and even if the box had been a trap, the police didn’t have a response time that fast. Crimes happened all the time in New York City; no need to overreact. He had come here for the statements, and he wasn’t getting spooked without their information.

           Neal unfolded them and laid them down on the floor underneath the lamp. The desk would have been preferable, but there just wasn’t space. Neal went through each page of each statement, taking quick snapshots on his phone of both front and back pages. All the while, it niggled in his mind that the sirens were growing louder. Before he had even finished taking the photographs, he could see red and blue lights flashing on the wall opposite the office door, coming in through the window in the main room. The cat meowed, and Neal looked down at the doorway as the cat left.

           The cat left, walking straight through the laser line. Which meant it had come in, straight through the laser line. How long had it been since he had first noticed the cat in the office? Three minutes? Four? Easily long enough that the police were feasibly close. Silent alarm. Clever. Unwelcome, but clever.

           Stubbornly, Neal took fast photos of both sides of the last few pages, then folded them up, put them back in the envelope, and hurried to put them back in the box. He closed it, then put the cardboard piece back in front of it. It didn’t need to be perfectly even as long as it looked convincingly like an uninterrupted line of book spines from a foot away, which it did. Neal turned off the lamp and took a small leap over the laser as he scrambled out of the office, pulling the door closed behind him.

           His eyes had to adjust to the dark again, but he could tell that the lights outside weren’t moving. The police cars had parked. How long had they been parked? Any minute now they would come to the door, break in, apprehend him, unless he wasn’t there. But where could he go? Without knowing how close they were, walking out and trying to make it to the stairwell or elevator could result in him being seen leaving. There was also a high probability that there were police prepared to cut off the intruder in both the elevator and the stairwell, as well as the fire escape. Even if Neal wasn’t seen leaving the apartment, with his anklet and the alarm going off, it wasn’t a big leap to make and he knew the cops would be all too quick to make it. Even though they would be right to, he didn’t appreciate it.

           Without leaving through the door, and unable to take the fire escape from the kitchen, he had one other exit point: the balcony. Neal had noticed while he came in that the balconies ran straight above one another. If he could make it to the one beneath him, he could either sneak through that apartment and escape, or he could continue swinging down balconies until he reached the ground floor. Doing that would be dangerous. Doing it at all was dangerous, but repeating it six times to get all the way to the ground was five extra times he risked losing his grasp or landing badly.

           That was a problem for the next moment. Neal opened up the balcony doors and shut them behind himself. He couldn’t lock them from the outside, but hopefully the cops wouldn’t think twice about it. It would be weird to expect a break-in from a seventh-story balcony, after all; it wouldn’t be the strangest for someone not to lock those doors.

           Oh, but it had been quite a while since he’d last done this. And he had no equipment, either. There hadn’t been much to do in prison but for staying in shape, so he knew he had the upper body strength, but the lack of recent experience was letting the butterflies grow in his stomach. He grabbed onto the silver banister with one wrist facing the apartment and the other facing the empty air, and put one leg over the balcony siding first. Once he had a small grip with his toes on the concrete on the other side, he flipped his apartment-facing hand around the other way and lifted the other leg over the edge of the balcony. No floodlights were on him; that was a good sign.

           Neal chanced a look down over his shoulder. He could see the glint of silver from the balcony rail below. If they were all the same height, that was going to be about three feet higher than the balcony itself. If he could swing his legs and get his feet on the floor on the inside of that rail, he would be okay. He might still hurt himself, but it would be hard to fall backwards over a three-foot rail with forward momentum.

           From the balcony, he could see the front door to the apartment, and underneath it the bright light of a flashlight or tactical light. Time was up. Neal very, very carefully got himself as low to the ground as he could, putting a hand around the very bottom of the balcony rail and keeping the other tightly around the top. He let one leg, then the other fall; not both at once, just in case the weight on his hands came too suddenly. When his legs were only swinging minimally, he tightened his right hand and released his left, dropping it to the bottom of the rail where it met the concrete balcony floor. Dangling from the seventh story, he heard the slam of the apartment door as it was broken open.

           Luck was on Neal’s side; he was tall enough that, with his arms above his head, he could already get his feet over the lower balcony rail. He used that as a way of helping himself start swinging, and with extreme caution and a held breath, he let go, swinging forward and down onto the sixth floor balcony.

           His feet hit hard, and his back felt like it popped as it hit and slid a few inches on the top of the rail, but he was very solidly on the balcony. Neal let out a small wheeze and lunged for the balcony doors. They weren’t locked. (See? It wouldn’t be suspicious at all that the seventh floor’s balcony doors were unlocked.) Only once he was inside with the glass doors shut behind him did he realize that the lights weren’t all out, and he wasn’t alone; in the dim light cast by a paused television, a woman in comfortable-looking pajamas was standing facing the balcony with her arms crossed, evidently having watched him drop from the floor above.

           Neal looked back at her, trying to think of something to say but coming up short. There wasn’t much he could say. Even if he turned and left, she had seen his face, just as he had seen hers. She could describe him to the police.

           “You have ten seconds to convince me why I shouldn’t use this and scream for the police,” the woman threatened once it was apparent that Neal wasn’t going to say anything. “I’m sure they’ll hear me, the floors are thin.” He looked at her hands as something small sparked a little bit of blue and realized she was holding a taser.

           Ten seconds. He had done more with less. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised, putting his hands out to show he was unarmed. He didn’t try to move any closer to her, knowing that that might be seen as threatening, and instead stayed put. “And I wasn’t stealing anything up there. The cat tripped the alarm.”

           “Right,” she said skeptically. As his eyes adjusted to the changed light level yet again, he could see her hair was a little messy and her neckline crooked, like she had been comfortably laying on her couch for a while before noticing the circus on the balcony. “Because innocent men dress like cat burglars, jump off balconies, and blame the real cats.”

           “I mean it,” Neal insisted, this time putting his hands out at his sides. “Look, I haven’t got anything.” He hadn’t taken anything from the apartment. He knew better. Photographs were all they would need to find a lead, anyway. He thought about offering for her to check his pockets when it dawned on him. “I work for the FBI,” he told her openly. “I’m a consultant.”

           “Not much longer, if they find out you broke in upstairs,” she predicted flippantly. He got the feeling she didn’t really believe what he was saying.

           “No, it’s true.” Neal put his left hand down and put his right one in his pocket, taking out the small C.I. badge Peter had given him. He didn’t like to carry identification cards on his exploits, but if he were to be arrested or badly injured, he wanted Peter to be notified quickly. He trusted Peter to make the situation as least terrible as possible. “Here, you can look for yourself. It’s got the federal seal.”

           He gave it a toss. The woman let it fall instead of trying to catch it, and then squeezed her taser, making it spark warningly at him while she crouched down to pick it up. She flipped it open a little bit clumsily and turned her body slightly so the light from the TV would hit the badge. Making a sound of frustration, she backed up, switched her taser to the same hand as his badge, and hit a light switch on the wall which made the overhead snap on.

           Neal blinked against the bright light while she got a better look at the I.D.. She compared him to his picture and then checked it for the government seal on the laminate. Apparently satisfied, she closed it and tossed it back to him. She also lowered her taser, but not entirely.

           “The man upstairs is a murder suspect,” Neal lied smoothly. In truth, he was only legally a suspect in a white-collar crime, hence his own involvement, but since their key witness had gone missing less than a day ago, Neal and Peter both suspected there was foul play involved – hence the urgency that led Neal to sneak into the Chelsea building in the first place.

           “I’m pretty sure he still has Constitutional rights,” she retorted, but at this point she didn’t seem nervous or even angry, just a little bit annoyed, tired, and somewhat teasing, like she enjoyed having him at her mercy. In a way, Neal thought, she was like the cat from upstairs. Except the cat probably couldn’t work a taser. “So try again.”

           “Look.” Neal’s nerves were wearing thin. She had him on facts and he only had so many tries before she would write him off entirely. “We were at a dead end. We needed to find something. I didn’t take anything, just found a lead. If you turn me in, that lead and anything that could come out of it becomes fruit of the poisonous tree, and he’ll walk on murder and everything else.”

           She thought about it for a few seconds. Neal couldn’t tell which way she was leaning. Some people were steadfast about the rules, while others saw them as somewhat more flexible. The woman was very contemplative.

           “Stake your freedom on it?” She eventually asked. Neal nodded quickly. She nodded once, mind apparently made up, and put down the taser. She didn’t let go of it, but she wasn’t aiming it in any particular direction anymore, nor was she poised to use it. Neal let out an almost silent breath of relief.

           There was a time and place for awkward loitering, but now wasn’t it. With her blessing, Neal advanced, just to skirt around her and head for the door to take his leave. He was only a few steps towards her when a rap sounded like it was trying to knock the door off its hinges.

           “Police!” A man on the other side bellowed. Neal widened his eyes and took a step back. One of them must have seen his hands on the balcony before he had let go and swung down. They’d be watching the balconies now. There was no chance of getting out with them right outside. “We’re coming in! Stand back from the door!”

           The woman, instead of calling for them to enter faster, moved towards the couch and dropped her taser between the sofa back and its cushions. Neal spotted her dropping his badge down there with it and wondered if she was panicking or up to something. It would be just his luck if he had broken into the home of a nefarious plotter.

           The police broke the door in, making Neal question why he was saying he broke and entered when they were doing that. At least he was civil enough to use the doors without damaging them. These thoughts were largely a result of panic and anxiety, he knew; it felt like the walls were closing in. There wasn’t a way out, because he hadn’t realized the cat walked through the laser until too late. This was why he was a dog person.

           “What the hell?!” The woman who lived there shrieked at the cops, to Neal’s surprise. She hugged herself tightly as if she were frightened, and with the pajamas and slightly askew shirt, it was an easy sell.

           The police didn’t immediately come for Neal. Instead, they cleared the room systematically, and then two went into the two rooms on the right, while two passed through the living room. Of the latter two, one then went into the kitchen while the other stepped out and checked the balcony. The one who had broken in paced forwards to talk to the distressed tenant.

           “Ma’am, stay calm,” he ordered with the authority of a dozen lieutenants. “We’re looking for a burglar. A home security system was triggered in the apartment directly above you and one of my men saw someone jump down onto your balcony.”

           “We didn’t see anything!” She exclaimed, not so much argumentative as shocked. Neal nodded agreement, silently holding in his surprise at being included in her statement. “You think you see someone do acrobatics and now you get to break my door and force your way in?!” She raised her voice and directed her shout at the police in her bedroom. “Get out of there!”

           The officer turned to Neal, disregarding the tenant’s indignancy. “Who’s this?” He asked, giving the con artist a suspicious stink eye.

           “My boyfriend,” his apparent alibi snapped, reaching out and grabbing tightly to his hand. Neal quickly slipped his fingers through hers and squeezed as though he were comforting her. “We’ve been watching Netflix. We didn’t see anything!”

           “Didn’t see anything, huh?” The officer eyeballed Neal’s outfit. Neal thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, the all-black outfit was a tiny bit conspicuous, after all. “Didn’t hear anything, either?”

           He didn’t understand why you were covering for him, but Neal was going to play his part and not look a gift horse in the mouth. “Like she said,” he told the officer with an honest face, feigning some worry by creasing his brows. “We’ve been watching Netflix, we probably wouldn’t have heard anything with the balcony doors closed.”

           The officer moved his eyes around the room. The couch looked rumpled enough for two people to have recently been on it. Neal suspected it was because she had been laying down, but the officer probably wasn’t thinking about that. And, of course, a show was queued up on Netflix, the frame frozen at an odd fraction of a second that left a bit of a blur on a character’s face.

           The officers from the other rooms came back and reported to their boss that the apartment was clear. Neal’s savior huffed and said that she could have told them that herself, while squeezing his hand tightly.

           The officer in charge tried to placate her. “We’re just doing our jobs, Miss…”

           She glared at him. “Y/L/N,” she snapped. She said it with the tone of an insult, trying to hasten him out of her home.

           Playing his part, Neal squeezed her hand and brought it up to his mouth, giving a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “It’s okay, darling,” he softly reassured. “They were just making sure we’re safe.”

           “Could’ve tried asking us to open up instead of breaking my door!”

           The officers didn’t apologize for the intrusion or the damage, but the one in charge did let Y/L/N know what precinct to call and to ask for the billing department if her door turned out to actually be broken. They filtered out warily and skeptically. Neal knew that the one they talked to, at least, didn’t fully believe they hadn’t seen anything, but he didn’t seem to be convinced enough to call either of them on it. Especially since there were two of them, and the woman lived there, he knew that it would have been very shaky grounds on which to arrest him. He owed her for her quick thinking and her generous decision to not just trust him, but to cover for him.

           He stayed while the police filtered out and for several minutes after, waiting for them to leave. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. Y/L/N went to the door, made it shut and twisted the deadbolt, which he didn’t think had been on before. After rolling her eyes, she complained to him. “Entitled prick. It’s dark. He didn’t know what he saw. Didn’t even see a face. He had no business storming in here like that, what if I had little kids?”

           Neal had no response, though he saw the merit in her argument. Even if he didn’t, he wasn’t about to tell her that after what she’d just done for him. Y/L/N went to the window, looking out at the source of the red and blue lights, and then she went back to the couch, where she reached in and got his badge. She tossed it back to him.

           “You said you’d stake your freedom,” she reminded him, her eyes solemn and hard. They weren’t angry, but they were certain, and warning. “If I find out something’s been stolen, or that you lied about anything, that’s exactly what’ll be at stake, ‘cause I’ll tell.”

           “You just obstructed justice,” Neal pointed out to her. He felt a lot better now that there was some mutually-assured destruction.

           “Right,” she said sarcastically. The thief was starting to think he had overlooked something. “Because when a man jumps down onto my balcony and enters my home, and I’m all alone, I’m not terrified at all. I definitely wouldn’t do what he says to stay safe.” Yep, there it was; he had missed it. “So.” She crossed her arms again and stepped out of the way between him and the front door. “If your story doesn’t get holes poked in it, we won’t have a problem. If I find out you’ve been here to get people hurt? You’re going down with your ship. Are we clear?”

           Neal nodded, swallowing and staring at her with both respect and a little bit of indignation. He was getting off easily, but he didn’t like being spoken to like this, as though he were a bad guy. Sure, he took some things that weren’t his, but he didn’t threaten women or cover up violence. On the other hand, she was quick-witted, calm, and clever. Neal was impressed (and a little bit attracted, if he were going to be honest). Luckily, he knew that it was absolutely not the time for flirting, and he had the feeling that if he tried, she would take that taser out, too.

           “Crystal,” he promised, meeting her eyes warily as he walked in a wide semicircle around her to get to the door.

           His night hadn’t been a failure, but it also definitely had not gone as planned.

[imagine-loki]

Everyone's Problem

TITLE: Everyone’s Problem CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: One-shot AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump ORIGINAL IMAGINE: After the Chitauri attack on New York, imagine Loki being sentenced to public service on Earth, specifically in aiding people who got hurt during the attack. His magic has been limited to only be enough to aid keeping Odin’s spell in place so he wouldn’t turn blue. His task is to help people with special needs, to do house chores, help them get around, do their grocery and keep them company while they recover. He is assigned to a girl who ended up blind after one of the Chitauri shot at her. + Imagine HYDRA has been quietly watching Loki living a quiet life on Earth. They decide it’s finally time to bring him into the fold. It doesn’t exactly work out the way they intended. RATING: T

NOTES/WARNING: Hi, y'all! I haven’t written in a fair while, so I did a quick little one-shot with Charlie to get myself back into shape. It’s probably rough, but cut me some slack! If you’re interested in reading other Charlie stories (there’s a bunch!), you can find them on my masterlist here. Language, mentions of violence, attacks and blood, one v angry human, and typos probably.

XX

“Loki, it’s a stomach ache. It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.” Charlie remarked for the fiftieth time that morning as she gently shoved the darling Asgardian she called a boyfriend away from her.

Loki huffed for about the same number time. “According to your interweb healers, it could be an autoimmune disorder, an ulcer or gastric cancer! Forgive me if I’m a little worried about–”

“WebMD is not a qualified physician, Loki Odinson! Settle. The fuck. Down!”

Though her tone was no-nonsense, a smile was tugging at the left corner of her plump lips, evidence that she was not nearly as cross as she portrayed herself to be. When she brushed past him, Loki circled his arms around her waist and tugged her into his body, peppering her face with kisses as she made noises of weak protest. Despite his best advances (and really, he was doing his best work here) her laughter began to trickle down and out of existence.

“Loki, stop,” she said firmly, though he was only half listening.

“Stop!” The Prince froze, holding her loosely in his arms. Her tone wasn’t exactly what had caused her to stop his affectionate attack, though. It was the fact that her whole frame had stilled, and her eyes danced from spot to spot as she concentrated on something. “Can you hear that?”

Loki tilted his head and focused. It took a moment, as out of practice in paranoia as he was, but eventually he heard the very distinct pounding of military-grade rubber on linoleum. “Boots.” Quietly, he righted himself, taking silent, measured steps around the furniture, leading Charlie along with him. “Come on. Bedroom. Quickly.”

No sooner had he gotten those words out, the front door slammed open, leaving Charlie to yelp behind him, a handful of his gray heather t-shirt keeping her anchored to his frame. As Loki saw it, there were three men in the immediate vicinity, waving odd-looking guns that bore the signature of the Chitauri. These were not aliens, though. They were humans, who somehow found a way to retrofit the technology to make more powerful weapons. Many had been foolish enough to try it throughout the years, but only one entity bore the skull and tentacled monster on their insignia.

HYDRA.

This was definitely not a great time to still be without magic.

At once, he tried to school the rhythm of his heart, knowing that Charlie was distinctly in tune with the beat and would worry if it seemed like he was in a panic. With delicate fingers, he stroked at her curls, intending to burrow into his side. “Put your arm around me, tuck your head in, don’t let go. Got it?”

She offered little resistance to the order, humming her consent and wrapping her arm tightly around his torso. The feeling gave him comfort, funnily enough, that he was still the warrior that he had trained to be in his youth, despite having lived like a spoiled house cat for the last couple of years. Where in his youth there was glory and blood to be won, today there was only one objective–keep Charlie safe. Loki moved the second the intruders set their scopes on him. Reaching to his left, he grabbed a handful of kitchen knives which would have to do in this pinch and engaged with a growl.

Charlie whimpered, her legs struggled to keep up with his. She could not anticipate his movement and was mostly just being pushed and pulled around the floor while Loki seemed to be skillfully weaving like he was dancing. It also didn’t help that with every jerk of her body and awkward moment, there was the sickening sound of injury filling her ears. In one very distinct occasion, she could feel the breaking of some sort of bone reverberate through her own hand as Loki delivered a blow. Surely, it would be a lot easier for Loki to fight if he didn’t have to worry about Charlie behind him, and the awkward shuffle he had to do to make sure she was never exposed to any of these intruders took significant mental acuity.

When the three in the room had been dealt with, Loki reached for one of their weapons and Charlie’s mobile. He wasted to no time in moving them back through the bedroom door and locking it. Surely, more men would come.

“Stark!”

“Loki, I am, er, dealing with something right now!” The sound of bullets and flying mortar filled the line along with FRIDAY’s voice in the suit. “I’ll need to call you back!”

“Loki.” Charlie’s voice was small and trembling beside him.

Sighing, Loki wrapped his free arm around her and pulled Charlie into his chest. “I have you, love. Don’t worry.”

His lips pressed into her crown. A little bit of battle had shaken away the rust of his instincts and he could feel the distinctive prickle of enemies closing in. He prayed quietly to any entity that would bear to hear his prayers that they would be left alone. There was more noise beyond the door and Loki was left to coo Charlie into silence. He understood her fear, everything to her was a surprise, doubly so when she was scared and couldn’t bring herself to concentrate on her surroundings.

“I’m going to need you to run to the bathroom and lock yourself there, dove.”

Her hazel eyes zeroed in on him with rage-filled acuity. “You’re insane if you think I’m leaving you.”

“Darling, I cannot protect you if I’m busy minding you from getting hurt!”

Her eyes widened. There was panic in her empty gaze if the fidgeting of her fisted hands was anything to go by and it pained him to think that he could not even offer her an empty promise. “No, please! Please, don’t leave me. I–I can’t deal with it if you’re not with me.”

Loki smiled, sighing at the sweet ache of her words on his heart, and cupped her cheeks, dusting them with speckles of others’ blood. “You are braver than this, Charlotte Camden.” His thumbs brushed over her bronzed cheekbones affectionately. “I know you are. So you go and keep yourself safe and I will–”

The bedroom door rammed open with a deafening crash of cracked wood and rained splinters over the couple.

“Go! Go now!”

Charlie reluctantly disengaged, taking a running leap towards the bathroom door and slammed it behind her. Her ear pressed up against the wood to hear the scuffling. It sounded like a bigger force had come in and Charlie swallowed the panicked yelp threatening to bubble up her throat. Loki was a great fighter, but without his magic there was little for him to do if he was incapacitated. All she could do was hope that he was faster, stronger, better than these intruders.

And that’s when she heard it.

His voice.

Screaming.

Screaming like he did when he had a nightmare.

Screaming like when he remembered the blood and gore that he caused and the damage he had done.

Screaming like when he discovered that the extent of his monstrosity went beyond a lineage he had been lied about and the fickle lies he had been fed by a tyrant.

And then she heard it again.

And again.

And again…

And just when she thought her heart could take no more, she heard a body thud onto the ground and the shuffling stop and she feared the worst.

And then her bracelets activated.

Nearly a year of having the damn things on her and she had forgotten that they served any purpose other than setting off the metal detectors everywhere she went. The nanites built up around her in one swift wave. It took Charlie a moment to orient herself back to the seeing world. The colors on the screen still gave her a headache, her eyes still were unfocused, but that was due to her nearsightedness more than anything else, but it was still usable. And the updates Tony had made to the AI over the years made it easy to navigate through the controls.

She kicked the door open at once. Five figures turned back to her while another three were trying to get Loki’s annoyingly heavy body onto a cot to wheel him away. There was blood on his shirt, wounds seeping the dark treacly liquid from stab wounds used to subdue him, he looked pale, but his chest was still moving air and he was muttering deliriously under his breath.

He was alive.

So every one of them now had to die.

The gauntlets whined as the blasters charged and knocked them clean out of their boots. She supposed Tony didn’t think she would ever try to blast anything at full power, but lo and behold her rage was transcendental. They tried to restructure, protect the ones trying to take Loki away while fighting her off. Bullets ricocheted off her armor, letting her forge forward, blasters pumping out energy and leaving a trail of crumpled bodies. Taking a run, her body propelled off the ground, landing with a loud thud just in front of the door and cutting off their escape.

“Put. Him. Down.”

Rifles came up to point at her. Seven in total. They fired in unison, and she raised her arms, flinching instinctually from the projectiles that were intent on ripping into her armor. Charlie’s teeth grit tightly as she waited for the jolt of bullets to knock her backwards. They never came.

I thought it might be helpful to unlock Loki’s magic from the bracelets, the AI spoke into her ear.

When she blinked up, a blanket of green held the bullets in place, swirling in the ether of his magic. Her breath caught. This was definitely not something Tony had mentioned the last time she went in for a tune-up. He had failed to mention that the dampener Loki wore, implanted just under the skin of his bicep was feeding directly into the nanites or that there was any way to access the power. What was stranger was that the magic even listened to her, in the first place. By Loki’s tales, it was untamable force and most sorcerers never got very far without proper instruction. This was most odd.

Guns cocked and reloaded, breaking her out of her reverie. With a flick of her fingers, the bullets turned and resumed their trajectory, delivered back to sender. Another flourish, she disposed of the ones carrying the medical backboard with Loki in it and he fell to the carpeted ground with a groan.

Headache in full swing, she ran to his side, pushing away bodies to fall to her knees beside him. Nanites receded from her hands to touch his cheek.

“Loki. Babe, look at me.”

A wry smile curled his lips. “I am. I’m just very tired.” He chuckled, ending it with a cough and a groan. “Well, that answers the question where has my magic gone all this time?” He blinked a little longer each time as the darkness threatened to drag him down.

“Don’t close your eyes. Please. I need to get you to Tony’s.”

He giggled a little deliriously. “Magic suits you, petal.”

“Jesus, I really do need to get you to Tony’s.” Nanites back over her hands, she pulled his long frame into her arms and heaved. Even with the armor, he was decidedly heavier than any human she had ever met. For a second, she debated going out the front door, but seeing as her apartment was pretty much totaled, anyway, she burst through a window and into the New York skyline.

X

Loki blinked awake to the sounds of Charlie berating someone to within an inch of their life. He smiled, settling back into the covers with a grin despite the obvious pain radiating from just under his ribs and the dull ache in his skull. He peeked an eye open to see Stark, actively cowering backwards, away from her tone, narrowly avoiding her walking cane whenever she gestured wildly.

“It would have been nice to know how to activate the damn thing before Loki got fucking stabbed or I felt absolutely sure that he was dead because you put in a life or death trigger on the damn suit! And don’t get me fucking started on the fact that I’ve been carrying Loki’s magic for the last year and had no fucking clue about it!”

“I’m sorry! I was trying to keep you from playing with the suit for funsies instead of–”

“WE ALMOST DIED AND YOU WERE BUSY WITH YOUR OWN HYDRA ASSHOLES! WHAT WERE WE SUPPOSED TO DO? WAIT FOR YOU TO GET YOUR ASS KICKED BEFORE–”

“Charlie, love,” Loki hoarsed, and the tirade immediately quieted. Charlie rushed over to the bedside, briefly tripping over a chair leg before clambering onto his cot and covering his face with kisses. “Dove, I’m bound to be disgusting at the moment,” he protested weakly, but still pulled her closer by the waist.

“I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you, too. My savior.” He cupped her face in his hands, absorbing the warmth from her beaming smile. “Glorious. Truly glorious.” He ran his fingers through her curls, bringing them back into shape from their crumpled form. Clearly she had been sleeping here with him and not necessarily keeping up with brushing–that was usually his task, anyway–but her crumpled clothes and dark circles under her eyes belied the worry she felt for him. It made his stomach warm several times over.

“I found your magic.”

He chuckled. “I recall. You can keep it safe for me.” He looked briefly at Tony who was pretending not to smile in the corner. “Do we know what happened?”

“Looking for you, buddy boy. They were a little disappointed you couldn’t do the hocus pocus stuff, but they caught onto the problem pretty quick.”

“I’m the problem,” Charlie muttered, snuggling into his side.

“Mmm, what a lovely problem to have,” he whispered before kissing her crown.

“Look, I’ll talk to your old man and see if we can’t get your sparkles and pixie dust ban lifted–”

“Don’t bother. I can teach Charlie how to use magic if you give her access. He said I couldn’t use seidr, not that I couldn’t teach someone else to wield it.”

Tony looked apprehensive, wincing slightly at the suggestion. “You sure you want to give Live Wire there that kind of ammunition?”

“Oh, if they don’t want to allow me to use my power, that is fine. But I am making her everyone’s problem. Aren’t I, sweet?”

Charlie simply snickered, leaving Tony to groan loudly as he stepped out of the hospital room.