#I wouldn’t want it to have the weapons because I work at a public defenders office and I feel like the court would not be very happy with me

[madigoround]

I am trying to work but the only thing the rat in my brain wants to do is think about what kind of illustration could go with “And if I couldn’t walk I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together.”

[thesolferino]

True Calling

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ word count: 3.9k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream meets his favorite singer on an among us livestream.

“Dude, what could go wrong? Just do it.”

“What could go wrong?! Literally so many things, you ass.” 

Dream heard Sapnap sigh through the mic right into his headphones, the dim grey of his Discord background doing barely anything to illuminate his features as he stared at his open messages blankly.

“First of all, don’t.. speak to me like that, I am doing you a favour by sitting here and listening to you panic about stupid shit. Second of all, nothing big could go wrong. What, you’re a little awkward in the beginning, maybe, and that’s it.” Dream adjusted his headphones a little bit, Sapnap’s rant flowing into his ears but dissipating somewhere halfway to his brain, because, yes, things could go wrong and he can’t be proven otherwise.

“Did you forget that I’m a public figure? And that my fans are insane? I say one wrong thing and it’ll be memed and haunt me in my dreams. Did you forget that SHE’s a public figure? And that this is live? God…” he retorts back, listening to Sapnap helplessly sigh once again in response. He anxiously switches from his Discord to Twitter, then to YouTube, to Twitch and then back to Discord, frantically clicking around. In reality, he knows Sapnap is right, and it’s anxiety whispering into his ear that he’s gonna somehow fuck up, but maybe it’s simply easier to stay and argue with him into the night instead of actually responding to that message.

The stream is still going. Quackity’s voice speaks over Sapnap’s quiet breathing. “Damn, he’s still not responding. Um, let me try Tubbo, maybe?” 

Before he knows it, the opportunity to join the stream is slipping out of his fingers, and Dream isn’t sure if he’s happy about that or not. On one hand, he gets to meet one of his favorite artists whose album he’s played way too many times to count, and on the other, the chances of him embarrassing himself in front of that same artist and a hundred thousand other people are extremely high, and he’s not sure if he likes the odds of that.

“Man, I don’t know. You won’t listen to me, anyway. Don’t join if you don’t want to.” Dream hears the annoyed tinge in Sapnap’s voice, and that’s what pours the last bit of courage into his veins because the best way to do anything in life is to follow Sapnap’s advice after you’ve already irritated him to the point of defeat, and he murmurs a quick “bye” and hangs up before the other can even respond, typing a rapid “Sure, send me the VC link” back to Quackity. 

He hears a delighted exhale coming from his Twitch tab just as Quackity forwards him the link. “Okay, nevermind, we’ve got Dream! He’ll join in a second.” 

With that, he swiftly closes the Twitch tab and with an encouraging sip of water, he finally joins the Discord voice chat with the rest of the players. Your Discord image sticks out like a sore thumb to him despite being a super basic, Googleable picture of you that he’s probably seen a million times by now, and upon seeing it, reality slaps him right over the face and he realises that, oh shit, he actually joined.

“Hey everyone.” Dream speaks into the mic and a mix of excited voices greets him at the same time as he loads up the game. Your icon is missing the green halo. He stares at it, as if you’ll magically speak up if he stares long and hard enough. That, apparently, works.

Pokimane’s “Dream, hi!” seems to set something off in your brain, and you speak again.

“Oh, Dream?” the green halo appears, and Dream resists the urge to say something stupid or bite his hand or anything of the sort when you say his name. “Aren’t you the guy who listens to my music all the time?” you giggle.

Quackity laughs loudly in his usual fashion, and Dream feels his hands go cold as the Among Us loading page pops up. “Wh-huh?” 

“Yeah, you-you listen to my music a lot! Your fans always tag me under that… ‘Dream’s Spotify’ Twitter account, I remember you.” Dream swears his heart is about to jump out of his chest and start bouncing around on the floor because his ribs are way too restrictive for that type of movement, but he tries his best to play it cool and laughs lightheartedly.

“I do! I’m, like, your biggest fan.” he grins, as if you can see him, and you laugh in return.

“Yeah, man, you pay my rent. Thanks.” you say and a couple of people laugh while Dream inputs the code and his character finally pops up, immediately running around like the rest of the group. He runs around your purple character and hears you chuckle as you run around him too, but not for long, because the game starts and everyone mutes themselves. He audibly sighs, because he can afford to, considering he’s not streaming and nobody can hear the amount of courage this whole thing is taking him. 

A notification pops up on his screen - the Dream Team group chat seems to be talking. Must’ve already found some way to make fun of me, he thinks to himself as he huffs out a large breath and runs through cafeteria and weapons to do his tasks in navigation. Corpse is hot on his tail the whole time, and not to say he’s an untrustworthy guy, but Dream isn’t really looking forward to getting killed before even speaking to you properly, so he runs around, trying to find somebody to stick with so Corpse doesn’t shove a knife in his back while he’s doing a task. 

Thankfully, Karl emerges somewhere from the direction of storage right into communications where Dream was going, too. Just as Dream starts finishing download and Corpse and Karl line up behind him, his screen flashes bright red and white and the bold letters “Dead body reported” pop up. Everyone unmutes themselves and his eyes bore into your character, immediately.

“Alright, the body was in top left of the… uh, upper engine. I need everyone’s positions.” Rae immediately spoke.

“I was in electrical, I-I went through cafeteria to the upper engine with Poki, there was nobody there, we did our tasks, went down to lower engine, then Poki left with Toast, and I went to electrical and the body was reported.” Sykkuno said, and Pokimane confirmed with a hum of agreement.

“Dream?” Rae asked, and he spoke up.

“I never even went that way, I went through weapons to nav, and then to communications, and then the body was found. Corpse can vouch for me because he was following me the entire time and I kinda thought he was gonna kill me. And Karl saw me in communications, us three were all together when you… reported the body.” He rambled, trying to defend himself.

“Yeah, it’s true, he was with me the whole time.” Corpse supported.

“Karl, which way did you get to communications?” Toast asked.

“Uh, through storage.” Karl replied quickly.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was in security, and I could swear I saw you walk past.” Toast said, and a couple of “ooh”s echo through the call.

“That makes no sense because even if I did go that way, I wouldn’t have time to get to communications and start doing my task with Dream and Corpse if I killed Ethan! And Rae, you-you saw me do my task in storage!” Karl loudly defended himself.

“...that… that’s true, yeah.” she said.

“If you ask me, Toast, you’re being real sus for lying about that.” Karl threw it back at Toast, who protested.

“Listen, I didn’t say you killed anybody, I just said I saw someone run past!” he claimed.

“Bretman and Y/N are being real quiet, though.” Corpse points out, and the green halo around your icon lights up once again.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise I was muted. Sorry, guys.” you laughed. “Um, I was with… Quackity, in… what’s that shit on the right called?”

“O2.” Quackity quickly jumped in.

“Right, O2. I went to… top left, first, and I did my tasks there, and then to weapons and then to O2, and then the body was reported.”

“You were in top left?” Rae repeated.

“Yeah.”

“And was there anyone with you?”

“Um… no? I was alone, and then I saw Quackity in top right, and then we went to, uh, O2 together.” you said and Corpse sighed loudly.

“That means she could’ve had the time to kill Ethan and run.” Toast points out.

“Hey! I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t even know how this game works…” you whined into the mic and Quackity laughed.

“Yeah, I dunno Y/N, you were dancing real suspiciously around me…” he said, causing you to defend yourself louder.

“Why would I kill anyone?! I don’t even know how to do that, I’m a nice person!”

“I don’t think she did it, guys.” Dream pipes up, tugging at the wire of his headphones absentmindedly.

“Shut up, you simp.” Quackity fires back instantly, making everyone in the call laugh, including Dream.

“Damn right, I’m a Y/N simp. She can do no wrong. I mean, look at that innocent face! She did nothing, I’m-I’m sure.” He argued, making you cover your mouth and giggle.

“Their face is literally the same as everyone’s! We’re all astronauts!” Rae protested, but Dream kept shaking his head.

“No, hers is more innocent.” he said. “Toast, why are you so set on accusing everyone, anyway?”

“Oh, you’re so not attacking Toast right now-”

“Guys, I think we should skip.” Sykkuno pipes up to calm the conversation, and everyone agrees, even though most of them mumble “sus” under their breath as soon as they mute their mics.

Dream’s tiny green astronaut stomps his way over to the left side immediately, changing paths this time and making his way into the Upper Engine, trying to finish his tasks in time and possibly find someone to accompany him so he at least doesn’t have to argue over his alibi. He had four tasks left, two of them in Upper Engine, so after that he was free to roam around wherever his heart desired. Just as he started doing one of them, he watched your purple character step in and run circles around him, earning you a quiet laugh that he didn’t know he uttered until he heard himself do it and silently scolded himself for getting that flustered at something so simple.

The two of you did your tasks together before going down to reactor. Just as Dream started doing one of his tasks, a dead body was reported again and he unmuted himself as Toast immediately started borderline yelling into his headphones. 

“Bretman just killed Sykkuno RIGHT in front of me. I literally watched him do it. He killed Sykkuno in COLD BLOOD.” he confidently claimed and Dream, quite uninterested, grabbed his bottle of water and lightly sipped on it, wiping beads of sweat resting right above his eyebrows with his forearm, blindly looking around the darkness, trying to get his eyes to adjust looking away from the computer screen. His eyes searched for the window - it was open, just enough to let a fresh breeze inside, but it never seemed to do that, letting humid air in with open arms like a welcome guest. Florida is fucking hell, he thinks, gulping down some more water.

“No, I didn’t! I seriously did not, he’s the one who killed him and is trying to frame me now. I swear to God, Toast…” Bretman shouted into his worn mic, trying to argue back. 

“Yeah, to be honest, Bretman, you were silent the whole time when Ethan died.” Rae reasoned, earning quite a lot of “ooh”s and causing little “voted” signs to appear next to Poki, Toast and Karl’s names as Bretman tried his best to fight back.

“I didn’t know I was muted the whole time! You know I’m bad at this! Why would I... you know what, nevermind! Vote me! Vote me! You’ll see when Toast kills you all, I don’t care anymore. I literally saw-”

Dream slumps further into his chair, sure that the foam would have a dent of his body shape imprinted even when he’s long gone from it, and unlocks his phone with a quiet sigh. He opens Discord, and wishes he hadn’t, because Sapnap and George are always on the front lines and ready to make fun of him at any chance possible. He types back a stupid joke, calling them losers, but before he can press send, a Twitter notification pops up on his phone that almost makes his painfully sweaty hands lose grip of the phone. 

“this is so boring” your message reads, from your official Twitter account. Dream blinks a few times, and looks up from his phone to observe his murky, empty room, eyes flashing from the window to the ripped chocolate bar wrapper that somehow made its way onto the floor to a cup of coffee from this afternoon. Did the humid air finally get to him? Hallucinations?

He clicks on the notification - it proves to not be a product of his imagination, after all. Three dots dance around on his screen cheerfully, but they suddenly stop. His ears tune in. Bretman is still defending his honor. Something else must’ve interrupted you. His shaky hands barely hit the right letters.

He takes a handful of screenshots amidst his euphoria, and forwards them to the group chat with no caption besides an emoji sticking its tongue out - he wants to tell them to suck his dick, or something along those lines, but your message remains a priority as he rushes back to the Twitter app to reply.

“Right” he manages to write without a typo. “They’re annoying”

Three dots immediately return to his screen like a happy memory, and he almost can’t believe you’re texting back so fast. George would probably humble him by saying it’s because you have nothing better to do, but what George doesn’t know can’t hurt him, Dream supposes, and clicks on your profile instinctively as he adjusts his headphones on one ear. By the time you finish typing your message, the group decided to vote out Bretman, who ended up not being an imposter.

The three dots disappear as quick as they came, and so does the anticipation that bubbled up in Dream’s throat as he sourly leaves to finish the rest of his tasks. The rest of the game stays as boring as it started, save for the giggles and hushed laughter that came from you at every few jokes he made - of which he made quite a lot, in a desperate attempt to make you laugh, at least a little bit. Of course, Quackity was there every step of the way to accidentally mention how Dream sounded a lot more hype and alive during this game than he does ever, but you win some, you lose some, eh?

In the next game you actually decided to set up proximity chat, so of course Dream followed you around everywhere, hot on your tail at all times - what else is he supposed to do, when the chance presented itself, really?

“Are you imposter?” His character obnoxiously ran circles around you as you did your wires task slowly and unsurely since this stream was your first time playing.

“No, but I wouldn’t tell you even if I was, dummy.” You replied, running around his own character briefly before running up to do the rest of your tasks, watching the green astronaut follow you close behind. 

“Why not?” Dream questioned, eyes following all your movements since he didn’t have anything better to do considering he finished all his tasks. 

“Do you not know how this game works?”

“Yeah, but you’d tell me, right? I wouldn’t… rat you out.” He heard a sigh coming through his headphones in response, and his grin widened just a little, watching your character walk away from him.

“I know you wouldn’t.” you replied. “I’ll tell you if I’m imposter, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t kill me, would you?” Dream spoke into his mic, reaching to fix it and realising the way his hand trembled a little, fully aware he was walking the line between flirty and obnoxious more than usual. He lowered his gaze just to see his keyboard reflect the light of the computer back to him - the sweat from his palms seemed to seep onto the keyboard. He refused to think about the mocking things his best friends would say if they found out how nervous he was just to talk to you. 

“No, of course not! I wouldn’t be able to kill you.” You chirped just as a dead body was discovered and the two of you were torn from the conversation. 

In the next one, his screen flashed an ominous black and red with the word “Impostor” and your purple character stood proudly next to his green one, and he snickered to himself, adjusting his headphones one more time (the more he did it, the more he was convinced it was one of those anxious habits of his).

Shifting in his chair, he started moving and couldn’t believe his eyes when he realised the two of you managed to lock yourselves in a room with Corpse and Sykkuno, accomplishing a double kill in barely the first two minutes of the game. The two of you vented while Dream muttered curses under his breath, breaking out in a sweat wondering if you’re going to get caught or not as you casually hummed to a random tune while faking tasks, hitting the notes in such an effortless way that it made Dream relax and get even more nervous at the same time. It didn’t take too long before the body was found, and you seemed to adapt to the game very quickly, as Dream just sat back most of the time and watched you stretch out a whole essay on why you and Dream could NOT have been imposters. 

“Why would they stick together the whole time? Couldn’t they get at least someone else to vouch for them?” Toast complained. 

“Girl, Dream wants some… alone time with Y/N, obviously.” Bretman said, despite being the one most sus of you in the first place, forcing laughter out of the whole lobby, Dream’s sticking out the most as his mood constantly swayed from finding the whole thing funny to being worried sick if you actually find him weird.

“Exactly! And we’re gonna have our alone time if we want to, thank you very much.” 

Well, Dream thinks, taking a stressed gulp of water from his bottle, at least we cleared that one up.

“I don’t think that sounded the way you wanted it to, Y/N.” Karl pipes up, making Quackity burst into another fit of loud laughter, and you immediately protested.

“It sounded exactly the way I wanted it to! Now, vote Rae or else.” 

When the meeting was over, he ran after you through cafeteria, grin splitting out on his face before he even spoke.

“You’re pretty…” his silence extended as he watched your character stare at his. “...pretty smart.”

You snorted. “Right. You’re pretty…” you extended your silence in return, mocking him. “...too.”

His heart jumps. “You forgot a word there.” he says as you stomp out to storage.

“I said what I said, Dreamy.” 

He swears this can’t be healthy for his blood pressure. In the corner of his eye, Discord notifications pop up like crazy. The boys must be watching your stream. His heart swells with both pride and dread, knowing he’s about to be called something along the lines of pretty Dreamy for the next two months.

“How do you know I’m pretty? You’ve never even seen my face.” Dream replies as heat creeps up like a spirit rising from soil, from the back of his neck, seeping into his ears and cheeks somewhat equally. His eyes dart to the window again. Of course it’s the stupid Florida weather that has him burning up, flustered. Maybe he should open another window.

“Is this an invitation to see it?” you say, a teasing tone clinging off your voice and he can practically hear you smiling. 

“No, I’m just saying! If you want to see it, though, that… that can be arranged.” he bites his lip as a physical attempt of holding back the smile that breaks out as he waits for your response, chest puffing in both nervousness and odd confidence.

“Can it? I mean, I don’t need to see it, I just know already, you have those… pretty boy vibes. But I wouldn’t…” you chuckle. “...be opposed to seeing it, for sure. Don’t count on me not to leak the pictures, though. I want the clout.”

“What do you MEAN you want the clout, you’re Y/N! You don’t need clout from a Minecraft YouTuber!” He argues back, a small wheeze escaping him mid sentence as you giggle and run around, with him following your every move.

“You keep my fucking lights on, man! Whenever your Spotify Twitter account thingy tweets that you’re listening to my stuff, the streams go up! I need your clout.” you say as you run into admin and snap Toast’s neck and run back out casually, as if nothing happened. 

“Yeah, that’s how me listening to your songs on repeat works.” he says and you let out some sort of irritated groan.

“Shut up, smartass.” Just as you say that, somebody seems to find the body and you’re pulled into a meeting, where Rae susses both of you immediately.

“No, because both of you are always together! And someone always spots you walking by the place where the bodies are found! At some point that can’t be a coincidence, right?” she accuses, practically yelling into the mic.

“Of course they’re always together, check- check fuckin’ Twitter! They’re trending on like three different spots already!” Quackity jumps in, loud as always, and the lobby gives off mixed reactions.

“What? We are?” Dream asks, and Quackity confirms with a “yeah, man! Check!” and so he complies, quickly pulling out his phone to check the trending tabs. Sure enough, among the politics and sports, “DREAM Y/N”, “PRETTY BOY” and “DREAM FACE” are crammed, sat at 7th, 14th and 18th place, respectfully. A satisfied grin breaks out on his face. At least they see it, too.

“This has to be the first time Dream has trended for something heterosexual.” Karl points out, earning loud laughter from Quackity and Bretman, less loud on your part.

“Exactly! We’re a power couple! Stay mad!” You shouted, with Dream supporting you in the background, although still shyly adjusting his headphones every few seconds, unable to comprehend that oh, this is actually happening.

Both of you get voted out during the next few minutes, but that really means nothing to Dream - they actually do him quite a favor, because the two of you get to excuse yourselves and he sees those three familiar dots dance on his screen again as he leans back into his chair with a dopey grin, playing with the strings of his sweatpants, waiting for your next and next and next message. 

He opens Discord on his computer to type one last message into the groupchat before turning it off for the night:

Dream (03:14): maybe Minecraft wasn’t my calling after all

Dream (03:14): can’t believe I just met my soulmate on Among Us

[queenoftheworldisdead]

I have a request with dark prompts and tropes/ kinks from the list.

The Dialogues:

“Please, I have to get home.”

“Don’t move a muscle.”

Tropes:

Stalking/obsession

Kidnapping

(With the character Andy Barber)

Thank you in advance.

Hard day's night

Warning: 18 + Only, dark theme, kidnapping, choking, bondage, non-consent, dubious consent, forced fingering, cream-pie

Note: hope you enjoy

Dark Andy x Reader

The parking garage was partially empty compared to when you first arrived to work. Your heels echoed off the cement garage walls as you searched for where you parked. Some days you were lucky to park on L3 the prized spot closest to the ground, but today you were late and in your hurry you couldn't remember if you were on L5 or L8.

With the car fob in hand you press the unlock button. The familiar beep signaled that you were further away than you anticipated.

*Honk

The loud car horn from behind had you jumping out of your skin and screeching at the top of your lungs. With your heart hammering in your chest you turned only to be immediately blinded by the car behind you.

Blocking the light with your hand, you realized you were wondering in the middle of the driving path. "Sorry" you shouted back, moving over to allow them to pass you.

The black sedan creeped up and idled beside you. You clutched your purse and moved over closer to the side as the window rolled down. You didn't have mace, but you were sure your purse was heavy enough to wheeled as a weapon.

"Sorry I scared you" Andy leaned over, smiling as he looked up at you. It was slightly jarring seeing him like that. He had been extremely combative towards your boss during the deposition, each session ending in a screaming match.

Mr. Thomas, the defense attorney you paralegal for, had always been mild tempered. The objections during Mr. Thomas's cross drew an ire that you had never witnessed before. It was as if he sought to provoke him on purpose. Tempers were so high that Judge Peters threatened both sides with contempt, forcing several recesses to cool them off.

A process that normally lasted a few hours somehow turned into three grueling days of high tensions and long nights going over transcripts.

"Sorry I was in the way. I forgot where I parked." You jiggled your keys, almost embarrassed.

"Get in I'll help you find it. It's really late and you shouldn't be walking alone in the garage like this."

The offer was nice, but getting into the car of opposing console would surely be frowned apron at your firm.

You were about to protest when he unlocked the passenger door. With a sigh of defeat you got inside. Thankfully Mr. Thomas parked in reserved parking on the lower levels. Far from the general parking on the upper floors that you used.

"I assume your late because of me" he laughed lightly as he slowly drove on.

"Yeah its safe to say you are correct" you dryly chuckled as you hid low in the seat. The garage was slightly empty, but you didn't want to take the chance of being seen as doing something inappropriate. Idiot why did you get in the car?

Aside from him being apposing console Mr.Barber made you feel uneasy. During the hours long deposition you would feel a weird tingle, that made you look up from your notepad only to look up and lock eyes with the DA. You shrugged it off as an intimidation tactic used to get under the skin of the opposition.

---

Clicking your fob again you listened for your car, but somehow you were now further than you were originally. "Oh gosh can we turn back? I think I' m further up."

Andy nodded as he continued down the path. The signs above indicating 'More parking turn left' and 'Exit turn right'.

"Why are you still here?" You questioned him as you searched. The deposition ran long, but it ended hours ago.

"Oh.." He said caught off guard as he made a right turn toward the exit. "I spotted an old colleague John Wilson. We chatted for a bit, didn't and realize how late it was until the old ball and chain called."

Your office had a few former district attorneys. Most left the DA's office for the more lucrative life of defense.

"Um Mr.Barber.. you needed to make the left to go back into the garage." You pointed back when Andy made the right turn toward the garage exit.

"You know I'm impressed by your professionalism." Andy ignored and continued down the wrong path. "Thomas is lucky to have you on his team" he explained as he rolled to a stop behind a car inline to exit.

"Um thank you." You shifted in your seat at the impromptued complement. You hadn't done anything special or out of the ordinary. You just took notes like any other paralegal would.

Was he head hunting you? You heard about big firms doing stuff like that, but not for paralegals that were a dime a dozen.

Andy made no effort to change course and you felt increasingly uncomfortable as he inched closer to the exit.

"Um...you know I will just get security to escort me to my car from here." You pointed at the man in the glass box guarding the exit. "Thank you" you reached over to touch the door handle and heard an immediate click of the lock snapping shut.

"Don't move a muscle." You froze at his command.

"I wouldn't get out if I were you." He warned glancing at the rear-view. "Your boss might frown at you getting out of the apposing consoles car."

Stiffly you turned to peak over your seat, a cold chill fell over your body at the sight of Mr. Thomas car waiting in line behind Andy's in the queue. If you got out now you would be in deep shit. You slunk down low in the seat, in a veiled effort to hide. You shouldn't have gotten in this car. What the hell were you thinking?

"Come work for me" Andy casually grabbed his ticket to feed to the machine as he rolled to a stop. So this was just a job offer? If that was the case you were sure there were better ways to go about it. You had a nice chemistry with the old defense attorney and you were not interested in the stress of the DA's office or the pay cut you were sure to get.

"Um I'm not looking for a new job." You rejected him nervously. Hoping he would turn around and let you out.

"At least here my offer."

It seemed as you had no choice in the matter as he proceeded to pull out onto the road.

Your lips pressed into a frown. If you placate him, maybe he would let you go. He was a DA after all he wasn't going to hurt you tried to convince yourself.

"Fine, what is it?"

---

"Come work for me and I don't charge you with witness tempering"

Your eyes went wild at the allegation. "What!"

A lot of firms were dirty, but yours was not one of them. The cases you handled with Mr. Thomas didn't even rise to that level. At most he handled cases of over zealous brokers, financial fraud cases or embezzlement. The only time you ever came in contact with a witness Mr.Thomas was there with you. And even if it did you would never take penitentiary chances to get a leg up on the competition.

"Don't worry it's not true. I know your a good girl" he glanced over at you with a smirk. The praise graded you as you sat still stunned. "But that won't stop me from charging you. I'm willing to bet that until you get yourself untangled from the mess I am going to make of your life, your boss and his associates wouldn't think twice about letting you go."

You stared at him in disbelief. You barely said two words to this man, yet he was ready to blow up your life. And for what? For you to work for him? "And from what I know of paralegal salaries I would bet you could afford a public defender at best."

"Mr. Thomas would defend me" you scoffed.

"I wouldn't count on it. Because I would take him down too if he tried." He was serious.

You fell back on the seat as your head swam with the madness. You tried to think what you could've done to bring this on.

--

You had been to the DA's office a handful of times so when you saw the familiar building in the horizon you shrunk further in the leather seat.

Andy pulled into a reserved parking spot as the clock crept closer to midnight.

You didn't belong here. Maybe if you got out you could run for it. Make a mad dash somewhere and call the cops. But what would you say? The DA threatened you with a job, kidnapped you and took you to his office? They would think you were insane.

"Let's start your interview." He announced as he killed the engine. You pursed your lips and frowned deeply.

You were being made to interview for a job you didn't want nor ask for.

“Please, I have to get home.”

Andy paid you no mind, slamming the door in the face of your plea. Your eyes followed him as he headed toward the stone steps to the building.

What did he expect for you to do? Show up tomorrow at your office and sit on prosecutions side? You doubted the judge nor your boss would allow that to fly.

You watched him as you stayed paralyzed in the car. This had to be a joke or a dream. Had you slipped in the parking garage earlier and bumped your head. You tried pinching yourself to snap out of it only to be disheartened by the gravity of this situation.

---

Andy led you down the empty hallways, until he stopped at a door that bared his name.

You stood back while he unlocked it and motioned you to go inside. You couldn't move, dread cemented you in place. It was a miracle he had got you to come this far.

Andy tsked and shook his head in disappointment as he walked inside.

You tried to play back every encounter, every word you could've uttered that could've spearheaded this, but there was nothing.

You would've been surprised if he even knew your name, you couldn't even recall it being mentioned during the depositions.

While you drowned in despair Andy shimmed out of his blazer, tossing it on a chair off to the side.

"You're wasting your potential with Thomas" Andy declared, perching himself on the edge of his desk.

"I can tell your very focused and career driven." He continued on. It was surreal, watching him unbutton and roll up his sleeves. Like a disappointed father ready to reprimand their child.

"I noticed it from the start." The anticipation of what was to come became too much under the weight of his stare. You hugged yourself defensively while warm Tears streamed down your cheek.

It was as if he were a wolf ready to swallow you whole. You squeezed your eyes shut unable to hold his stare.

"Eyes on me" he said firmly. You sniffed uncontrollably as you forced them back open. "Good girl" Andy praised, adjusting his cock. He delighted in this, wetting his bottom lip, reveling in your discomfort.

"With a little more discipline and guidance you will reach your full potential. And I want to help you do that" Andy grunted as he loosened then knot of his tie.

Andy stayed sat before you unmoved by your tears as he slipped the fabric from around his neck, pulling it taunt with one hand while wrapping it around the other.

"You just need a firm hand to mold you. Or you can stay out there and watch as I turn your world upside down."

What could you say? He had you where he wanted you. You held your head low, sobbing to yourself as you approached him. You were no match for the power of the DA's office.

Andy rose from his perch and circled you like a shark with blood in the water. "Hands behind your back." He whispered into the shell of your ear. You looked back at him eyes wet with tears pleading. He sighed disappointed again taking matters into his own hands. You whimpered as he pried your hands from their hold, forcing them behind your back.

"Please Mr. Barber " you chanted as he encompassed your wrist with the tie. Knotting it so tight you feared for the circulation of your hands.

---

Andy's firm body pressed against you, his arms wrapped around you, roaming your body freely. The fabric of the tie burned as you struggled to free yourself. He ripped open your cheap blouse with ease, groping your breast over your bra. You withered in his embrace, unable to fight back.

"You made it hard to concentrate" he hummed into your neck while he played with your hard nipples over the fabric. The heat of his breath and the kneading of your breast electrified the coil that tightened in your core.

You tried to crouch into your shoulders, but Andy cupped your chin harshly. Forcing you to expose your neck to him and endure his assault. You went rigid when his other hand started to trail down your abdomen, tunneling past your waistline in desperate pursuit of your mound.

"Sitting so quiet, taking notes."

Your tears glazed Andy's hand as he forced you to look at him as he plunged beneath the elastic of your panties. His eyes clouded with lust at the sight of your facial contortions. Your clit buzzed as his fingers moved over it. You clamped your thighs tightly around his palm in an effort to stop further intrusion, but he pressed on. Rubbing firmly against your mound repeatedly, sparking an unwanted warmth. You felt shame and guilt as heat pooled in his hand.

"Hmmm so ready to be my perfect little helper." Andy purred.

"Are you ready to be molded by me" he teased. Andy pushed his fingers inside of you, releasing a gasp you could not contain.

"Fuck you're so tight" Andy cursed in your ear while he fingered you.

You bit down on your lip to stop the moan trapped in your throat. The embarrassing wetness, the involuntary moans, it was as if your body no longer belonged to you. Andy manipulated you like a puppet on a string.

You exhaled deeply when he pulled his fingers from you and released your neck. You panted from the over stimulation.

He built up a need and left you cradling on the edge. Without warning Andy spun you by the shoulder to face him.

"Look at you my needy little helper. Ready to learn." He smirked at you.

Your eyes went wide when he began unfastening his belt. You didn't want to find out what he would use that for. Your flight response started to kick into high gear as he closed the space between you.

Reflexively you took a step backwards, almost stumbling to the floor when you tripped on the leg of the chair behind you.

There was no way out of the room without going past him. You doubted you would get far even if you tried. The back of your legs hit his desk, halting your movements.

"Gonna be my perfect little helper?"

You opened your mouth to finally scream, but Andy swiftly rushed you. The grip on your neck felt deadly as you croaked. He leaned his weight on you, tipping you over until you slammed hard on his desk.

Whatever trinkets he had on his desk dug into your back and arms painfully. Andy wedged himself between your thighs, and haphazardly fumbled with his pants. Pushing them down with one hand as he kept you pinned with the other. You bucked and squirmed when you felt his need pressed on your pelvis.

Your skirt had rode up past your waist leaving your thin panties the last line of defense.

"Don't do this please Mr. Barber please I'll work for you please." Choked out incoherently.

You bucked more feverishly when he yanked your panties to the side. The tip of his cock lined up against your entrance.

"That's it. That's my good little helper. So wet for me." Andy praised as his sunk into you as he kept a firm hold on your neck. Your pussy pulsed around him as you strained to adjust. He made you painfully full.

Andy lifted up your left thigh, allowing himself to sink deeper. The added weight of him on top of you married with the pain from your arms.

His focused grip on your neck helped muffle your mewls, but not the sloppy sounds of your cunt. You turned away from his face as he rolled his hips into you. Only to be met with the smiling faces of his family. The facade of his wholesome life seemingly entrained by your predicament.

"Perfect little cunt fits me so well."

Your pussy clenched with every praise to your shame. There was no way to bite back the need he fed deep within you. Your stomach tensed as a staggered moan fell from your mouth.

Your feet curled in the air as your thighs squeezed around him. You felt of mix of shame and disappointment as you came around his cock.

Loosening his grip on your neck Andy could no longer hold himself back. He filled you to the brim, his seed seeped out of you as you milked him dry.

He laid on you briefly, panting heavily before pulling off. Carefully adjusting himself as he watched his cum drizzle down your raw cunt. "Get yourself cleaned up. We have cross in a few hours."

[roanniom]

My request is probably so lame lol. But will you please tell us about Valentines Day with Flip? How does he spoil you and make it extra special for you? I’d love it if you could throw in some praise kink and size kink too please!

I love all your writing and you’re so talented! Thank you for entertaining my request! 💛

Hi my lovelies, thanks for your patience with this, seeing as it is coming over a week after Valentine’s Day. I wasn’t 100% I had another Valentine’s story in me after my Clyde and Charlie ones, but I chose to combine these prompts, got a little inspiration today and voila - a sweet and salty Flip one shot was born. Hope you’re cool with me combining and taking a bit from each of these requests! ❤️

Stupid Little Day in February

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Word Count: 3,890

Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex / semi-public sex / unprotected sex, angst in the form of Flip wanting to love up his lady but having work get in the way

Flip had never intended to find himself in this position. He was a perfectionist, giving everything he had and then some in an effort to be successful in all he did – high school sports, his career at the department, his relationships. It’s why he always tries to make time for the boys, being there for Ron whenever he needs help or just someone to bitch to over a beer after work. It’s why he does his best to shower you with love and affection every chance he gets, bringing home little gifts and spending lazy Sundays doing nothing but you. And he thought that, all things considered, he’d been doing a damn good job.

That is until he overheard you on the phone with your friend the other day. You were twirling the coiled cord around your finger while you lounged on the couch laughing and chatting animatedly. He’d walked by and into the kitchen, careful not to disturb you, but as he cracked open a beer he heard something that made his stomach drop.

“Yeah I know I love Valentine’s Day, but Flip hates it so I can be cool with that.”

Flip had left his beer on the counter and moved silently to the doorway, ears straining to hear the rest of the conversation, mind racing to all the times he had, indeed, condemned the holiday of love as a sappy excuse for bad boyfriends to redeem themselves. A day to stimulate the gift industry. You’d laughed and teased him for his soap box routine and grumpy demeanor but you hadn’t argued.

“Besides, I’ve told you. The man gets me flowers like three days a week. He remembers things, like really remembers things. And he listens. I’d trade fancy dinner, red hearts, and chocolate for him any day.”

And though you’d defended him to your friend, your words had stuck with Flip. He wanted to give you the moon, he would if it wasn’t so damn high up. The least he could do was indulge you in something you enjoyed. You did that for him constantly – sitting through football games, hanging with the boys at the bar, listening to country music though you told him that deep inside it made you want to murder the jukebox. You sucked it up and took it with a smile so you could be with him. Flip kicked himself for not being able to do the same with some stupid holiday.

But at the exact moment Flip vowed to right this wrong, the universe seemed to have made a competing vow to ruin all of his efforts. It seemed that the revelation had come to late, being that it was already the night before Valentine’s Day. He was horrified the next morning to find, after a series of tense calls made at his desk hunched over and hushed so none of the other detectives could here, every restaurant in town was booked full. Which ended up being a moot point because the chief demanded he stay late, regardless of how much he gnashed his teeth.

“Everyone with a serious gal already asked for the night off, Zimmerman. It’s too late now. Guess your gal isn’t that serious,” was the only reply he received.

Head in his hands at his desk, Flip flinched when his back received a firm clap.

“Now I know we’re in the contemplating-marriage-territory here with this girl,” Ron said, pulling a seat up and fixing Flip with a concerned look. “What’s all this about not taking time off?”

Flip repeated the conversation that he’d overheard, sure to explain that he had no intention of disappointing you despite your good nature.

“You do realize that this could easily be remedied by a simple call to your woman, right?” Ron asked as Flip massaged the space between his eyes.

“I wanted to surprise her. Calling at this point feels like admitting defeat.”

“Do you hear yourself? ‘Admitting defeat?’ This isn’t some damn battle, it’s a holiday for a fat little baby with wings.”

“Hey, he does have a weapon,” Flip countered, though this time he cracked a smile. Ron laughed heartily.

“Yeah, one that’s been used to shoot you and your little lady enough to kill a small elephant. You guys are pumped so full of the love juice it’s a wonder you’re able to concentrate on anything else.” Ron turned then and flicked the large stack of files on Flip’s desk with a smirk. “Or maybe that’s your problem, Zimmerman.”

Flip shook his head.

“That might be the case for me, but – ”

“Are you seriously about to argue that she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“How the fuck would you know?” Flip asked gruffly. Ron, used to Flip’s gruffness much as you were, plowed right on through.

“Well besides all the dinner parties and barbeques and nights we all go dancing?” Ron raised an eyebrow with a laugh. “Patrice, man! You think those women get together and don’t talk about us?”

“Patrice has told you things?” Flip’s whole body tensed and Ron was quick to reassure.

“Calm the fuck down, I don’t want any of your dirty details. All I know is your woman is crazy in love with you. I don’t think some stupid little day in February is going to rock your world as much as you think it will.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Flip conceded, putting his head in his hands.

“I’m always right, you just never listen,” Ron said good-naturedly as he headed back to his desk. Over his shoulder he tossed one final piece of wisdom. “Whatever you do, just call her!”

~*~

And Flip did try to call you. Ten times as a matter of fact. It wasn’t until the sun set out the window and he hung up the phone for the tenth time that he remembered you’d had plans to hang out with your mother today. While that probably should have made him feel better – you had filled your day with plenty of things and probably wouldn’t even notice his failed attempt at romance – he couldn’t help but agonize the fact that it proved you had expected so little of him in the first place.

It’s with this on his mind that Flip buries himself in his paperwork. It’s 8pm and every member of the Colorado Springs police force that hadn’t taken the holiday off is out for a dinner break, Flip having sullenly waved them off so he could sulk in peace. He’s neck-deep in casefiles when he hears the sound of footsteps coming in from the bullpen. It was much too soft to be the tread of any of the beat cops he’d expected to see tonight and Judy, the night shift receptionist, wasn’t due in till later.

“Burning the midnight oil there, detective?”

Flip’s head snaps up at your voice to find you leaning against the doorframe to his office, arms folded casually across your chest, cheeky smile gracing your lips.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” Flip asks breathlessly as he makes to stand up. He freezes mid-motion, however, when you hold a hand up.

“Ah ah ah, no need to get up,” you tsk, closing the door with a gentle click and dropping your bag to the floor before making your way over to him. He hesitates but lowers himself back into his seat, eyes trained on your frame slinking toward him. You drop your palms to his desk and hoist yourself up onto it, prowling forward across the surface on your hands and knees toward him. “I heard my man needed some cheering up.”

“You did?” Flip asks, a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth as he leans back in his seat to enjoy what has already been and promises to be quite a show. Legs spread wide and hands gripping the arm rests he hasn’t really even heard what you said. Instead he is focusing every single brain cell on the cleavage that is visible through the red peacoat he’s never seen you wear, chest now slightly exposed as you slowly slide off the scarf you’d used to obscure it.

“Yeah. I heard you wanted to love on me but couldn’t because of work,” you say in a low voice, scooting forward so that one leg dangles off the edge of the desk on the outside of Flip’s left thigh while you place your other foot on the edge of his chair to the right of his other thigh. His gaze flits to the expanse of inner thigh that is now visible to him, your legs bare beneath the peacoat despite the freezing mid-February chill outside. His hand shoots up to smooth over your thigh, warming your skin, just as his brain catches up to your words.

“Now where exactly did you hear that, sugar?” He asks with a small frown. One of your hands reaches out to his shoulder, pulling him in his wheeled office chair closer to you and the desk. The same hand slides down his shoulder to smooth back and forth over the plane of his chest, just as your other hand threads into his hair.

“I can’t go around divulging my secrets,” you say breathily, leaning forward and arresting his lips in a sensuous kiss. You are the first to deepen it, tongue flitting over his lips to beg for entrance before plunging into the depths of his mouth. You kiss him greedily like you’re seeking the breath from his lungs to be the source of your own oxygen. Like the pressure of his lips on yours will warm the late winter cold from your bones. When you slide off the desk and into his lap, straddling his thick denim-clad thighs, Flip moans into the kiss, making you break away with a pleased hum. You relish in the look of his kiss-bruised lips, red and wet from the fervor of your contact. “Maybe cupid dropped by with a little message. Told me to come on down here and drive you wild.”

Flip’s breathing deeply at this point but the new intake of air seems to get the gears moving better in his mind. He frowns.

“And by cupid you mean Ron.”

“Bingo, baby,” you confirm with a smile before pressing a kiss to his furrowed brow. “Don’t be mad at him, though. He told me how you tried to make tonight special for me and that you’d probably bite off the heads of everyone working the night shift if I didn’t make my way down here quick.”

“I set something up. I did what I could, things just kept going wrong…”

“Shhh….” Your kisses migrate from his forehead to his cheek, pressing into his dimples till his frown smooths out and his eyes close again. Only then do you move down to mouth at the column of his throat, pressing your lips to his Adam’s apple. “So how many are there?”

“How many what?” he asks distractedly, eyes still closed.

“Dead bodies of people who had the misfortune to cross paths with my grumpy mountain man?” you ask, the smile clear in your voice though you speak the words into his skin. Flips hands tighten around your hips.

“I’m only grumpy because you deserve the fuckin’ moon and I’m stuck here behind a desk.”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed,” you say, angling in his lap so that your lower back leans against the edge of the desk behind you. “I am also behind the desk with you. So maybe it’s not all bad.”

It is at this point that you pop the few buttons at the front of our coat, allowing it to drop open and reveal the gauzy, see-through red negligee you are wearing beneath. It comes down only to the tops of your thighs, but most important of all, you are completely bare beyond the fabric. Your breasts are held in the negligee’s sheer lace cups, nipples hard, and not a scrap of panties obstructs his view of your cunt, evidently glistening from this angle, even through the garment.  

“Sugar.” He intones it soft, deep. It’s a statement. A warning as his eyes slide back up your body to lock on your own hungry stare. “You’re just looking for trouble here.”

With a devious smile you settle forward again, rolling your pelvis this time to rub your heat conspicuously over the growing bulge in his jeans.

“You can punish me later, Flip,” you whisper softly in his ear as you reach down to unbuckle his belt. “When you get home. But for now let me reward you.”

“What’s there to reward me for, darlin’?” Flip asks, helping you rid him of his belt and unfasten the buttons of his Levi’s. He’s not even sure why he’s pressing the matter. You’re here, rubbing your gorgeous body all of his in the middle of his workplace like some fucking fever dream and here he is, practically reminding you of his unworthiness. In some kind of verbal act of self-flagellation.

“Flip Zimmerman,” you chide, even as you pull his half-hard dick out of the opening you’ve made in his pants, careful to keep the rest of his clothing neat. “There’s always something to reward you for.” You begin applying a few measured strokes to his length, squeezing at the base and rolling your wrist to smooth the motion up to his tip.

“Fuck,” Flip grunts quietly, his head dropping to hit the back of the chair.

“This morning you sprinkled cinnamon on my oatmeal. Last night you handed me that lotion that smells like jasmine when I got out of the shower, the one I love so much.” You kiss his jaw as you say this and let your eye lashes flutter against his cheek in the process.

“Those are little things. Nothing,” Flip argues, still mentally kicking himself for the knee-jerk way he keeps dragging this on. Living in this guilt despite your loving ministrations which suggest you feel exactly the opposite.

“They aren’t little to me,” you say, your tone abruptly serious and your fingers digging into his jaw to keep him looking at you. “You read to me on Sunday afternoons. You take me camping whenever you get time off.”

Your tone returns to its original gentleness and you duck your head so that you can nip at Flip’s earlobe. Your hand continues its steady pace on his cock, thumb swirling around in the precum collecting on his tip.

“You fuck me. Good and hard and slow and fast and every which way I need it.” He’s painfully hard now, both from your hand and from your focused attention on him. From the words falling from your lips. He gazes back at you with blackened eyes and massages the skin of your hips and ass with his large, warm hands. You lick the shell of his ear then, marveling in the way it always turns red and hot, regardless of his confidence, regardless of his dominance. “You meet my needs, Flip, every day. And today is just any old day. So just like you do for me, I’m going to meet your needs, and you’re going to enjoy it.”

You say this as you lift yourself up with the muscles of your thighs and line him up with your entrance, sinking down on his cock just as you get to the last few words. Flip immediately mutters a string of hushed curses, fingers digging into your hips through your gauzy negligee so hard you’re already looking forward to the bruises. He breathes through his nose, his labored exhales fanning across your face as you work to adjust to him, eventually swiveling your hips a bit.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he mutters, dropping his forehead to yours. Your face is screwed up in pleasure-pain and you huff out a laugh.

“No, you’re just fucking huge.” Your statement gets a groan from him and you smirk as you begin to lift yourself up and down on Flip’s cock with his help. Your walls pulse, stroking his cock as your tongue moves on to stroking his ego. “You’re so big, Flip. Too big. I can barely take you.”

“You’re taking me just fine, sugar,” he shakes his head, eyes rolling back in their sockets as you grind into him on a down motion. “So wet. This little pussy takes me so well.”

“You fill me up, Flip. Stuff me – ohhh fuck – stuff me so full I think I might burst.” You reach one hand back to grip the edge of the desk for leverage while your other hand digs into the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh for me you do burst, baby. You burst and gush all over me like the good girl you are,” Flip whispers into your clavicle when you throw your head back, an automatic response to him beginning to aid you by thrust up into your quivering cunt himself. This sounds more like your Flip. Confident and powerful. Pressing all the right buttons to drive you wild. “My good girl.”

“I love it when you call me that,” you admit softly.

“A good girl?”

“Your good girl,” you correct.

“My good girl,” Flip repeats and your pussy clenches around him hard in response. So naturally Flip says it again. “You’re my good girl.”

Your breathing has increased rapidly, spurred on in no small part by the way one of his hands has snaked up to pluck a breast from its lacy confines. His head dips to suck your nipple into his mouth and you hum.

“Who’s good girl are you?” Flip asks into your breasts.

“I’m your good girl.”

You begin ridding him harder, faster. The slick seeping onto his cock around your swollen lips indicates that you’re farther along than he’d expect, a suspicion that you soon confirm with a whimper.

“Fuck, baby, I’m close.”

“Really?” he asks, incredulous. He’s used to marathon lovemaking. Even a quick fuck in a bathroom stall usually becomes indulgent for you two, trading speed for roughness and lewdness.

“I kind of…got ready before I – ah! – came here.” You bite your lip as you say it and Flip resists the urge to pull your lip out and claim it for himself.

“And by ‘got ready’ you mean…” he prompts, a wicked smile spreading on his face.

“I touched myself,” you admit, no shame in your words. “I touched myself while thinking about my handsome man and his handsome cock and the way it was going to fill me when I came over here.”

Flip grabs one of your hands then, zeroing in on your fingers. All the while he keeps thrusting up into you, feet flat on the floor and muscles rippling throughout his body with the effort.

“Did these fingers rub your little clit?”

“Yes,” you say, still confident. Flip licks a stripe up your index and middle finger, almost as if doing so would allow him to taste remnants of your essence.

“Did you stuff them inside your pussy. Press that little spot inside you like so much?” As he says it he thrusts up and forward, making his cock drag against your front wall in a way that’s got you buckling in on yourself.

“Oh god oh yes. Yes!” You’re trying to remain as quiet as possible but it’s getting harder by the second. The station was empty save for Flip when you’d arrive but soon other people would return. A fact that made your pussy drool all the more on Flip’s throbbing cock.

Flip watches you fall apart in his arms and speeds up the process by sucking on your fingertips, splitting them apart with his tongue and laving each equally. You swallow a moan as he brings your own wetted fingers down to the apex of your thighs.

“Show me,” he breathes, moving forward to kiss your lips. “Show me what I do to you.”

You begin rubbing your clit just as Flip assaults your senses in all other ways. He captures your mouth in a kiss while simultaneously returning to kneading at your breasts with abandon, tugging and squeezing at the pillowy flesh.

“Did you cry out my name in that empty house when you came?” he prompts. You shake your head feverishly, your thighs shaking around him as your climax nears.

“No. I didn’t cum. I saved that for you.”

In a flash of blinding pleasure, you unraveling on top of him, careful to suppress the reaction to little gasps and whimpers instead of the loud praise and guttural moans you would have preferred to let out. The suddenness of your orgasm catches Flip off guard and he is utterly unprepared for the way your walls flutter and pulse, ultimately milking his cock of his own release. You collapse in his arms with a shaky laugh, one he’s only able to reciprocate when the ringing in his ears begin to lessen and his heart stops trying to pound a route out of his chest.

You both revel in the afterglow for a few minutes after, holding each other like you aren’t in his office in the middle of the Colorado Springs Police Department. Like people aren’t about to file in after their dinner break, bellies full and completely unaware of the fact that Flip had just railed you into next February.

After a while, Flip finally pulls out and tucks himself away, once again the picture of professionalism. Or at least, as much the picture of professionalism as Flip cares to appear, what with his eternal flannel and comfortably warm in jeans, the wet patch of your arousal finally fading. He helps you clean up with some napkins he has stashed in a drawer, ultimately bundling you back up in your coat and scarf. You now look sweet and warm again, a stark contrast to the vixen who had crawled across his desk and stripped for him.

Now descent, you settle back into his lap sideways, opting not to straddle him tis time in case someone did finally walk in. You run a finger through the hair at his chin.

“You said earlier you said you’d ended up setting something up for me. What was it?”

Flip blinks at your question for a few seconds before letting out a laugh that ripples from deep in his belly.

“I sent Jimmy and his brother with a box of chocolates over to the house. They were supposed to sing you a Motown duet.”

“I would pay to hear that. When are they supposed to get there?”

“They’re supposed to arrive right now.”

With that you dissolve into a fit of laughter, falling into his chest as you heave from it. Flip’s arms wind around you and tug you tighter to him. And in that moment, he almost believes in this stupid holiday. Almost believes in the cartoon hearts and the fat little winged baby that flies around shooting people. What else could possibly explain the sharp pain radiating from his chest when he looks at you? The ache that dulls as it floods to his extremities, simmering into a warmth that fills him from head to toe? All Flip can think as he smooths his thumb over your smiling lips is that cupid better have a up-to-date permit for that bow of his.  

~*~

Tagging some lovelies <3 (please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list in the future!): @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @edencherries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @paper-n-ashes @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @morby @mrs-zimmerman @maryforyou @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @equivocalrabbit @soggywhore @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess

[lucianalight]

What do you think about Sokovia Accords? If Thor, Loki and Bruce made it to Earth safely, would they have to sign this? Or maybe Loki would find a way out of this situation by using his silver tongue (maybe Thor's belief that the Asgardians might populate some deserted planet instead of succumbing to Ross).

Ah, Sokovia Accords. One of the fandom dividing topics. You know, the first time I seriously consider joining tumblr was after CACW. Because the movie, characterizations and the narrative tone left me frustrated. I remember hovering over sign up button and then I changed my mind. I still wasn’t as angry and disappointed as when I watched TR, so I didn’t have enough motivation to overcome my shyness and social anxiety and start writing on an interactive blogging platform in another language. So, buckle up, because I finally have an excuse to write about it and this is going to be long.

The main narrative of the movie is built around this quote by Peggy:

"Compromise where you can. Where you can't, don't. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move, it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye, and say, 'No, *you* move'."

We are meant to consider the Sokovia Accords as a situation where you can’t compromise. But is it really like that?

The movie introduce Sokovia Accords as an agreement by 117 countries to supervise Avengers' actions. Because they are a dangerous US based group who already caused damages by their actions. And they're right not to trust Avengers.

Consider this from the view point of people who doesn't know these characters the way we do. How are they supposed to trust someone who used to make weapons and profited from wars, some super skilled assassins, a super soldier who can defeat tens of people single-handedly, an uncontrollable raging superhuman, an alien, someone who can enslave people's minds on a whim, an android, all of whom with questionable past and morality who regularly break the law and invade other countries’ borders and can't get past their differences fast enough to save people and not cause more damage.

On the other hand, Steve also has a point. The UN is run by people who have agendas and those agendas can change. And let’s be honest the UN is practically useless when it comes to important matters in the world and it’s basically run by a few powerful countries. What if they stop Avengers from resolving a situation if the damage would benefit a political goal against their enemy? And again Steve is right that by signing the Accords they would surrender their right to chose.

So, which side is right? Neither. This is a situation where compromise needed from both sides. And in fact this is where a plothole and ooc characterization comes into play just to move the plot forward. An agreement like this, among 117 countries isn’t sth that happens overnight. As far as I know from how politics work, this would take time and many discussions and it would be public knowledge. It doesn’t make sense that the Avengers didn’t know about this until three days prior to its ratification. Moreover, Tony is behaving ooc about this. It’s true that he feels guilty about Ultron and he is in a very low point, but he is still one of the most intelligent people on Earth and he wouldn’t have missed that this agreement can possibly cause more corruption and casualties. So an in character Tony imo would try to use his sources to change the Accords to be more effective. And in fact that’s what they should have done in that situation. They should have pushed for a compromise in a matter that concerns them. They should have asked to have representative defend and speak for them. Instead that whole mess happened.

In the context of CACW this is what we know about the Accords and based on it I’m more on Tony’s side. I won’t go into the details of analyzing the movie and characters’ choices because I don’t want to make this longer than it already is. But signing the Accords would be a better choice, rather than leaving the Avengers and the world more defenseless as a result.

But from other movies and tv shows in MCU we later realize that the Accords concerns more than the Avengers. Which I consider more of a retcon than anything because many things as I will mention won’t make sense and accepting them are ooc for characters. I used wikia as my source, so if I made a mistake please correct me.

The Sokovia Accords include all the enhanced humans, and ask them to reveal their biometric data, secret identity and wear a tracker. They are also forbidden from joining any military or police force. It doesn’t make sense that Tony agrees to this form of violation against human rights, considering he invites Spider-man someone with a secret identity. It also doesn’t make sense that Wakanda, literally a secret super enhanced country with a source that gives them super human strength and abilities, support a law which requires them to reveal their identity and powers.

Another law of the Accords against human rights is that enhanced humans don’t get a trial if they break the law and they will be arrested and detained indefinitely without a trial. I can’t imagine any of the heroes agree to this. It’s extremely ooc for all of them.

And finally the Accords prohibited people from creating self-aware AI. I can’t imagine any of AI scientists would be happy with this. This literally puts a stop to a scientific subject and prevents scientific development. Self-aware AI is the dream of every scientist working in this field. And again I can’t see Tony agree to this. Yes, even considering Ultron. Because Tony made Jarvis that was pretty self-aware and it was him that in the end helped them defeat Ultron.

I don’t agree with these laws at all. I agree that enhanced humans should provide information on their abilities but more than that is a violations against human rights.

Finally, let’s get to your another question. Would Thor, Loki and Bruce sign the Accords? They had to. It was UN’s law not Ross’. I’m pretty sure both Thor and Bruce signed them after IW otherwise they wouldn’t be let to roam free.

But if Loki was with them, I think he would recognize that they had an disadvantage. They wouldn’t be able to leave for another planet without supplies and a better ship. So they had to sign the Accords. But there would be no way for humans to know his complete skill set. I think Loki would only reveal those of his abilities that humans had already seen. And about the Accords, I think he would try to push for a change in them. Loki hates to be controlled in any way. So he would use(or even create) a situation in which the Accords cause more casualties or render the Avengers ineffective and through anonymous use of Internet start a movement in which people asking for a change in the Accords. At the same time he could slip into different personalities or illusions of other people to persuade politicians and governments of different countries to consider this change and finally cause them to make a more effective law that doesn’t go against human rights.

[mochegato]

Pixie Spy

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Jason waited on the dancefloor anxiously watching the crowd of people who had just left, ready to pounce on the Sunshine Girl once she exposed herself by exiting the safety of the crowd.  But he hadn’t seen her exit yet.  The crowd had now thinned out enough that he could make out everyone that was still in the group.  She wasn’t one of them. The tablecloths that decorated all the tables did not go all the way to the floor, allowing him to see under the tables.  She wasn’t hiding there either.  There was no sign of her.  She was impossibly gone.

He was so focused on his search, he didn’t notice the wary looks of the people around him watching him as though he might lash out at them at any moment and he wouldn’t have been able to care less even if he had noticed.  He didn’t have a single fuck to spare about their opinions.  He needed to find Sunshine and figure out what the fuck was going on and how he could help.  

He felt a weight on his shoulder and spun quickly grabbing the hand, ready to defend himself against whatever it was.  He relaxed slightly when he saw Dick’s surprised and concerned eyes on him, hands held up in a placating gesture, “Hey, it’s just me Jaybird.  What’s going on?  A rogue?” he asked discretely, stepping closer and lowering his voice so nobody else could hear.

Jason’s eyes returned to the crowd, desperately seeking any sign of her, “No… at least I don’t think so.  Do you see a beautiful, short woman with black hair and a short black dress?” She couldn’t have just disappeared.  She had to have gone somewhere, but he had been watching not just the dancefloor but the exits as well.  There was no way he could have missed her.  She wasn’t someone you could miss.  She wasn’t there and she hadn’t left.  Where the fuck was she?  

Dick watched Jason cautiously before glancing around the room again.  He was getting concerned about Jason.  He wanted to write it off as a drunken fascination with a girl who walked away or an attempt to disrupt the night, but that wasn’t it.  Drunk Jason was belligerent, well more belligerent than usual, not paranoid and possessive.  Disruptive Jason never bothered to hide his glee at the disruption.  This was something else.  

Dick cast a wary eye back into the crowd looking for the girl Jason described.  “I don’t see anyone like that,” he said shaking his head and returning his gaze back to Jason.  He didn’t know what was going on, but clearly that girl was important to whatever it was. They should have known better than to think the night would go smoothly.  He had naïvely thought the worst he would have to worry about was Jason causing a scene for the hell of it, but this was something more.

“Shit!” Jason exclaimed loudly running his hand through his hair and looking down.  He needed to focus on the immediate issues and let the others know their identities had been compromised.  They needed to figure out who she was, what she knew, what she was going to do with the information, and just who the fuck got her involved in all of this, track that mother fucker down and kick the shit out of him for getting her involved in the first place.  Then figure out what was going on in Paris that had caused so much pain she felt responsible for and kick the shit out of that asshole too.

“Sorry about that everyone.  Guess we should have cut the bar off a few drinks ago. Please, continue dancing… and drinking, if you think you can handle it a bit better than him.” Bruce announced loudly with a charming, easy smile for the crowd eliciting a few chuckles from the audience.

“Is this related to what you were asking before?” Tim asked quietly, coming up next to them and scanning the crowd as well, not really sure what he was looking for but searching for anything out of place.

“Yes!  We need to go to the safe room,” Jason growled quietly.  “ALL of us.  Now”

“Did something happen with that girl you can’t find? Did she get taken?  Did she take someone else?”  Dick asked grimly still watching Jason with concern, gauging the breadth of the developing situation.

“Somebody got taken?” Bruce asked joining the conversation.

“Yeah, we did.  Let’s go.  Tim, bring up the cameras for back home,” Jason ordered stalking toward the family safe room without bothering to look at anyone.  

“Jason, we were just about to make the announcement. Is it something that can wait?” Bruce asked stepping between Jason and the door to the safe room.

“Gee, I don’t know, B.  Do you think someone figuring us out and breaking into our… home base is something important?” Jason asked snidely without breaking stride.

Selina sauntered over slowly just in time to see Bruce’s stoic expression pale slightly, not enough for the other party goers to notice but enough that the family could see the change and change their attitude accordingly.  “I’ll do some damage control out here,” she said patting Bruce’s shoulder before pushing him slightly toward the family safe room, a room the family had designated as a safe space in case of emergencies.  It was soundproofed, swept for bugs, and was locked to anyone but the family.  It was meant to be a place they could change into their suits in case something happened requiring vigilante activity.  It also had the added benefit of a place they could send Damian before he actually acted on any of the violent thoughts they knew he was having.  

“And make sure you take Damian with you.  He looks ready to cut someone’s hand off,” she said with an amused smile.  Damian glared at her as he followed his father to the room.  She heard a faint “trollop” as he passed by, making her smile. At this point, she was taking it as a term of endearment from the little terror.  If he really wanted to hurt her he would go after her with one of his katanas, like he did with his brothers.

By the time the family made it to the room, Tim had already pulled up the live feed to the Batcave on his phone.  He got it connected just in time to see… nothing, absolutely nothing out of place.  The cave was empty, the vehicles were parked, the suits and weapons hung up properly, and the computer was resting.  Nothing remotely concerning, Tim grumbled to himself.  It was bad enough dealing with Jason on patrols but now he had to put up with his bullshit here too.  He didn’t want to be here either, none of them did, but at least he wasn’t actively trying to make the situation worse.

Of course it would amount to nothing.  If anyone had broken into the Batcave his phone, along with everyone else’s, would have alerted them to the trespasser.  He and Barbara had set it up.  There was no way around it.  Nobody could be in the Batcave without them knowing about it.  There was no alarm going off, thus there was no trespasser. This was another of Jason’s paranoid delusions or another way to mess with the family, sabotaging the important night.

As soon as the door to the safe room clicked closed, Bruce turned to Jason with a concerned look, “What is going on, Jason?  What do you think got broken into and who figured us out?”

“There was a woman at the party,” he started unsure how much of the encounter he wanted to relate to them.  Before he could continue there were groans around the room.  He glared at them before continuing louder this time. “She seemed uncomfortable at the gala so I started talking with her.”

“How thoughtful of you.  Completely for her own benefit, I’m sure,” Dick rolled his eyes and shook his head. This damn well better not be about Jason trying to get laid.  There were far less public ways to accomplish that than this.  In fact, Dick had been working on one of those ways when Jason decided to take out an entire table in front of everyone.

“If you assholes are done interrupting,” Jason snapped at them, glowering in frustration.  “Out of nowhere, she suddenly stared hard at you guys for a minute then freaked the fuck out.  I finally got her to say she was there acting as a scout for your,” he pointed at Bruce with a scowl, “lover, so he could break into our place.”

“My what!” Bruce asked confused, “Selina?”

“What the hell, Jason!” Dick exclaimed.  Of course it would be Jason.  Of course Jason would end up with someone who was spying on them.  Jason seemed to attract it.  Even if he wasn’t trying to cause problems, he usually was but even when he wasn’t, they seemed to find him.

“Attempting to bed the enemy, why is that not a surprise, Todd.” Damian scoffed from his seat on the other side of the room.

“Fuck you.  I tried to bring her over when she said that, but she got away.  She kept ranting about a lover’s quarrel and a joke.  Whoever she is working with, she thinks you two know each other and are ‘friendly’, Bruce.  And she definitely did NOT know who we were until that point.”

Tim groaned in frustration.  They took their eyes off of Jason for just a few minutes and now he had to clean up the mess Jason had created.  They were wasting time looking at the batcave instead of looking for this girl.  The batcave was a dead end.  Jason just didn’t want to admit that he let himself get played by some girl.  A girl who he let get away, he might add. “Accident” his ass.  Jason didn’t let anyone get away accidentally.  And now they all had to play along with this delusion.  

He looked back at the live feed.  There was still nothing amiss.  He huffed, “She lied to you.  There's nothing going on in the cave.  Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse,” he gritted out, brandishing his phone around so everyone could see it.  “I told you before, nobody could be there without getting noticed and us knowing immediately.  You got played.  And now someone who KNOWS OUR IDENTITIES is out there and we have no idea how much of a threat she is because you got distracted by a pretty face.”  

“It was I goddamn gorgeous face and she got away when I got distracted by you arguing with me instead of just helping,” he growled at Tim.  “And she isn’t a threat.  I’m pretty sure she’s a hero of some kind.” Jason defended.  He wasn’t sure about much of what was happening but the one thing he did know for certain was Pixie Pop was a hero or vigilante. She was trying to protect people and only got angry when she thought they were interfering with that.  She wasn’t a villain and hadn’t been trying to take them down.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t trust your judgement here,” Damian drawled.

Jason spun to face him red faced in anger.  They weren’t listening.  People were suffering and they were still acting like it was a joke, just like Pixie thought they were.  He opened his mouth to respond but snapped it shut when he heard the door open.  Selina slid through closing the door securely behind her.

“How is it out there?” Bruce asked grimly.

Selina shrugged.  “Everyone bought the cover story easily.  Those looking for a reason were judging, but the rest thought it was cute. They think he's taking after his dear old Dad.  After witnessing you do something similar at almost every gala, ball, dance, opening, party, fundraiser, celebration, and just regular dinners for, what?  A decade?  Two?  They see nothing strange in your son doing the same,” she said with an amused smile, taking a seat next to Tim on a table he was leaning against to get a better angle on the video.  

“Disappears for a few years then comes back and gets drunk whenever possible.  It's nostalgic for them.  Jason got your drinking, Dick got your philandering, Tim got your arguing, I believe you prefer to call it ‘negotiating’, and Damian got your looks.” Damian nodded satisfied his description was the only genetic trait and the only one that would not be considered a weakness.  “Not that you aren't all very handsome,” she cooed mockingly, squeezing Tim’s cheeks to accentuate her point.

“Just to check, Selina you didn’t send anyone to spy on us tonight did you?”  Bruce asked annoyed.

“Me?  I haven’t sent anyone to watch you guys for ages.”  Selina said innocently.  “Someone was spying on you guys?”  

“That’s still up for debate, but regardless Jason said this girl knew our identities so we should try to track her down, assess the danger we and she are in… after the announcement.”  Bruce was tired before this all started, this did not help.  Dick, Tim, and Damian started to protest but Bruce held up a hand stopping them, “if she was intending to do something she would have made the threat to Jason or come up to us to extort us.  She didn’t so either she’s waiting for us to make a move she can jump on or…” he took a deep breath, “or, she had no idea and doesn’t intend to do anything with it.  I’m more concerned with whoever sent her.  That is who we need to find and we find that person through her.  As soon as the announcement is over, Tim, I want you checking security cameras to track her.”

Tim rolled his eyes and pushed off of the table he was leaning against, taking one last look at the live feed.  “Okay, this break has been fun.  I’m going back to the party.  Jason, just go home and sleep it..." his sentence tapered off as he watched a silvery, rippling portal open near the bat computer.  His eyes widened and his jaw dropped open in shock.  Holy shit, Jason had been right.  "What the fuck!  Bruce!  Look at this.  Dick turn on the television there.”  He pushed a few buttons on his phone and sent the image to display on the TV.

The family watched in shocked silence as a figure emerged from the shimmering pool with an enraged look on their face and hands clenched at their sides.  They stared at the figure trying to decide if they remembered ever having seen them before. The figure was wearing a full body suit in varying shades of brown that seemed heavily padded for protection. Their hair was pulled back into a series of long ponytails forming something reminiscent of a horse’s mane that flowed down their back.  The most unsettling thing about the figure, other than that they were in the cave without permission, was their expression. Even with half of their face obscured by a pair of pince-nez sunglasses, the angry expression was clear.  They glared at the computer but made no move to get closer.

“I fucking told you she was telling the truth!” Jason yelled pointing at the screen for emphasis.

Dick growled and turned to leave but Bruce stopped him holding up a finger to indicate he should wait.  “Can’t do anything without a car anyway.  Call for the car and watch until it gets close.”  Dick nodded and pulled out his phone to call Alfred.

Dick nearly dropped the phone when the figure suddenly yelled “Come out and face me you coward!” in the general direction of the computer as the portal behind them disappeared.

“What the fuck?” Tim whispered confused.  “Do they think there we’re there and camouflaged?”

“Or can they see something we can’t?”  Dick contemplated staring hard at the scene in front of him. The figure wasn’t moving to do anything to the equipment in the cave, wasn’t trying to damage it or investigate it. They were focused on something else, something none of them in the room could see.

They all froze when out of the ether they heard a man’s voice respond. “You ready for them to know we’re here, Spots?”

“Oh, they already know,” the figure growled out.

“Ah, that didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” the voice responded.  “Okay Trixx. Might as well drop it then.”

As soon as he said the words, it was like a curtain dropped and suddenly a man in a trench coat was standing in front of a very active bat computer.  Alarms sounded throughout the safe room, as all of their phones rang out with trespassing alerts.  

“What the hell?” Tim exclaimed.  “The computer was on sleep mode just a second ago.”  He brought his phone closer to his face trying to examine the scene better. He and Barbara had designed the system to detect changes in visual, audio, thermal, and electronic signals as well as vibrations caused by any movement.  Whatever they were using had somehow interrupted detection for all of those. “How the hell did they do that?”

Jason ignored the room devolving into chaos behind him, deciding to study the figure in front of the computer instead.  The hair and trench coat were very familiar.  “Is that Constantine?” Jason asked.

“You absolute bastard!  What was that?” the figure yelled gesturing vaguely behind them and stalking closer to the man.

“Yeah, that sounds like Constantine,” Bruce shook his head, resigned to the situation. “Tell Alfred there isn’t a rush.  Constantine won’t try to do anything he hasn’t already done.”

“You going to hit me while you're like that, Spots? Bit unfair don't you think?” Constantine said barely glancing over to her from the computer.

The figure stared at him shaking in rage for a few seconds before forcing out, something that sounded like “dismount” through gritted teeth. A blinding wave of sea green light engulfed the figure.  When the light faded, a woman in a long red dress and the same glasses as the other figure was standing where the figure had been.  She removed the glasses and shoved them in her purse before returning her glare to the man at the computer.

“That’s her!” Jason yelled, pointing at the screen.  “That’s the woman I was dancing with.  Different dress but same woman.”

“Well at least now we know why she thought it was a prank when she figured us out, assuming she knows who he is, which I assume is why she is working with him in the first place, so she does.” Bruce said rubbing his forehead to ease the quickly oncoming headache.  Whenever Constantine got involved things went to Hell, sometimes literally, very quickly and Bruce had not had enough sleep or bourbon to deal with this.  Contrary to his reputation, he rarely drank but this situation, this situation, whatever the hell it was, justified a drink.

“Fuck!  No wonder I couldn’t find her.  She somehow pulled a fucking Houdini and changed her entire appearance.” Jason yelled exasperated.

Constantine typed a few more things on the computer before finally facing her nonchalantly “Not to change the subject but that is a really good glare. Scarier than Batman, honestly.  I could feel it through the back of my head.  I’m this close to being intimidated,” he said holding his thumb and index finger close together.  “I swear, if you keep glaring at me that…” before he could finish his sentence the woman had delivered a strong right hook directly to his jaw.

Constantine fell backwards, knocking into the chair positioned next to the computer, sending it spinning away on his way down, landing on his hands and knees.  He gently rubbed his jaw with a wince and looked back up at her with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, fair enough.” He slowly stood back up using the chair and computer to help support him on his way up. “Have fun, kid? Meet any cute boys? Girls? Thems? Guess never asked which way you swing.”

The woman responded by kicking him hard in the chest with a suddenly bare foot.  He fell back against the computer from the impact with a surprised grunt.  Before he could get up she moved her foot on his throat to hold him there, braced against the computer.  She had been careful to place her foot flush on his throat but he wasn’t making any noises so she wasn’t pushing hard on it.  The family were all familiar with the move.  It didn’t allow him to move but did allow him to speak. A good questioning position.

“You left some valuable details out of the multiple briefings we had.  Weeks where you could have mentioned them.  Details like you could have just ASKED for this if you weren’t such a fucking self-absorbed coward.” She seethed at him.

Jason made a gurgling sound as he watched her stand over Constantine, suddenly feeling flushed.  He had not expected her to be able to take down a grown man like that, like it was second nature, effortless.  Two quick moves and he was at her mercy.  He couldn’t stop picturing himself in Constantine’s place, at her mercy, and that thought alone made his heart race and breathing more difficult.  The things she could do to him… He shook his head of the highly enjoyable thought.  Now was not the time for that.

“You know, I’m pressing a lot of buttons here,” Constantine croaked out.  “I might have to restart the whole process if you’re not careful.  Would take time.  Maybe enough for the whole family to return.”

“Fuck you.” She growled at him retracting her leg so he could stand up properly.

“Oh I swing all ways except that way. You may be legal, technically, but you're still a kid and I'm not a pedo.” He rubbed his throat as he straightened back up.  To the surprise of those in the room who knew him, he didn’t react at all. He seemed to accept the attack as justified and turned back around and got back to work on the computer.  Not that they were expecting him to attack back physically but Constantine was never had nothing to say, except now.

“You're an asshole.” She glared at him again crouching down to put her shoe back on.

“Well, yeah, but even assholes have standards.  By the way, really impressed you didn’t fall over there. Standing on one stilettoed leg without falling or losing your modesty?  Impressive. So you never did say, how did it go? Assuming you are done now.”

The family tensed for another attack when they saw her jump into a battle stance.  They watched confused as she switched to a crouching position and started cooing at nothing.  After a few moments, they saw what had drawn her attention.  Alfred the cat had jumped onto the computer like he was chasing after something.

“How the hell did your cat get into the cave?” Tim demanded from Damian.  “He better not mess with anything on the computer.”

“If that second rate concubine touches a hair on Alfred, I will cut her fingers off one at a time.” Damian growled at the screen.

Bruce squeezed the bridge of his nose, “Not quite the Alfred I would have hoped would intervene…”

Constantine looked over at the cat and grunted, “Not looking for a trip to Hell today, but thanks for the offer.  Scat.”  He shooed the cat away and turned to go back to his work on the computer.

The woman looked back at Constantine and frowned at him, “I don’t know if I’m done yet.  I’m still deciding,” she said snidely.  “And don’t you dare go anywhere near this poor cat.”  Alfred trotted over to the woman, keeping his eyes on Constantine the whole way.  When he got to the woman he rubbed up against her legs and looked up at her with a meow.

She reached down to pet the cat gently and start talking to him quietly.

“Holy shit, Demon Spawn.  I think the cat likes her better than you.” Jason laughed.  Bruce put his hand on Damian’s shoulder when he jumped up to charge at Jason.

“No bloodshed tonight, please.  And Jason, stop antagonizing him,” he admonished both of them.  This was shaping up to be the worst gala they’ve had.  And they’ve had galas attacked by rogues before.  That was still more pleasurable than whatever was going on here. Yep, that was definitely the beginning of a migraine he was feeling.

Constantine grunted out a single laugh.  “Yeah, right.  Because you can hold a grudge.”

She stared hard at Constantine for a few moments before something seemed to click in her head.  “Oh my God, he was right.  I was only there because you wanted me to get out and have fun, figuring I’d forgive you for the convoluted plans and the wait.”

“Is that so bad?  You’re still a kid, you should have fun at some point in your life.  Also, who is ‘he’?”

“So you gave me homework?  Are you so old you forget homework is not fun?  Or did they not have things like homework or school when you were my age?” She snarked annoyed, ignoring the last part of the question.

“No they didn’t have homework WAY back then, or paper, we just grunted to each other and absorbed information through osmosis,” he shot her a sour look.  “And fun wasn’t my only goal, but it was an important one.  Why, didn’t have fun?”

“Oh no, I did.  Until I remembered it isn’t something I get to keep, remembered that nothing about tonight sticks except that device,” she said pointing to something on the computer. “Everything about tonight is just an illusion because I haven’t been good enough, because I failed.  Thanks for that reminder.”  A guilty look flashed across her face before returning back to a glare.  “The remaining part of the night was focused on keeping tabs on the Waynes and fending off entitled pricks’ wandering hands,” she said slowly as if explaining something that should have been obvious.

A dark shadow passed over Constantine’s face.  He turned his focus from the computer for a moment to address her directly, “That is not on you.  None of that is on you.  Whatever the fuck your overactive conscious tells you.  That fucking conscious of yours is going to get you killed then I’m going to have to go to Hell to get you out.  I don’t enjoy Hell.  DO NOT make me go back.” He scolded her.  “For the hands, get any names?  I know a few demons looking for someone to… play with.  It wasn’t any of the Wayne kids, right?”

“You wanted me to meet the Waynes, didn’t you?” she narrowed her eyes in accusation.  “Why would you tell me to NOT get noticed by them if you wanted me to meet them?  How was that supposed to happen if I was avoiding them?  Did you really think I was so completely incompetent? ”

“No, I thought you were that gorgeous and innocent looking.  A combination that is impossible for any Wayne to ignore.” He sighed and glanced away seeming to brace himself for the conversation they were about to have.  “I needed you to think you shouldn’t get noticed because otherwise there was no reason for you to go instead of Chat.  And I needed you to go because not only do you need the break but precisely because you were going to get noticed by at least one of the Waynes and noticed in a very particular way that Chat wouldn’t.” he said waggling his eyebrows at her.  

“I thought it would take longer than it did, but at some point, one of the boys was going to take an interest in you and talk to you.  And you being you would figure out their identities and tell him everything.  You’re brilliant and noble like that,” he said sneering at the word noble, making it sound like the most disgusting word he had ever had to utter.  

“The youngest was the least likely to act but he is a bit young for you anyway.  The next one is as smart and focused-on-the-mission-at-the-expense-of-all-other-things as you, so I thought you might get along. The next one is as much of a smartass and has the same fuck-you-to-authority, sarcastic attitude as you, so I thought you two might click.  The oldest is as annoyingly sunshiney as you, so that seemed like it might work. Honestly, I thought he was the safest bet since he hits on everything with tits… Unless he was the one you were speaking with in which case, what I meant to say was… uh… keep an eye on him if cheating bothers you.”

Dick gave an offended gasp at the accusation.

“Yeah, totally unfair description.  You don’t require tits to hit on someone.” Jason said clapping him on the back

“I don't know that I like the idea of you dating any of them. But it would have gotten them involved without me breaking my promise because, I have said nothing,” Constantine said glancing back towards her for a moment. “But it sounds like you did,” he said with a cocky grin.

“Asshole,” she sneered at him sitting on the floor to get into a better position to pet Alfred.

“Yeah, but an asshole that keeps his word.”  He focused back on the computer and clicked around for a few more minutes before discretely glancing over at her, “Sooooo, did being here make you change your mind?”

“Nothing about tonight made me change my mind about bringing in outside help but it did make me reconsider the wisdom of allowing your interference.” She said shaking her head and glaring at him.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” he growled out hitting the computer in frustration.  He rounded on her and stalked over to her, looming over her.  “Fuck the goddamned, mother fucking mission for ONCE.  Your life is supposed to be more than the fucking suit. Did being in Gotham make you rethink turning down that acceptance letter?”

“What?” She looked at him wide eyed in surprise but didn’t seem scared of his sudden outburst unlike Alfred who jumped up and hissed at him as he approached.

Constantine sighed sitting down near her and looked away seeming to examine thin air over her shoulder, “I know you got accepted to go here but turned it down because of Paris,” he said quietly.

Her lips pressed together in a thin line and turned her head to glare at the same point in the air, “How did you know that?”

“Your partners are worried about you. You turned it down because of the situation in Paris.  You can’t let that be the only thing in your life.  You got accepted everywhere.  You could go anywhere and you should.  Come on, if Gotham didn’t do it for you I can talk to people in Metropolis, Jump City, Central City, Starling City… Just somewhere out of Paris.”

Her eyes flared but she gave out a resigned sigh.  “I liked you better when you didn’t care about us.” She said with a wry smile, suddenly finding the cat at her feet batting at the air to be the most interesting thing in the room.  

“I still don’t,” he said unconvincingly as he backing up and returning to the computer.

She let out a doubtful scoff but continued to pet Alfred. After a few moments of silence she cocked her head to the side and looked up at Constantine with an impish smirk. “Awfully coincidental that all those cities have heroes that are roughly my age.  You trying to set me up with more superheroes?  First a bat now a titan?  Or were you leaning more towards an arrow?”

“With Roy!  God no. Jason is as depraved as I am willing to let you go.” Constantine sounded offended.

“Jason is NOT depraved!” she exclaimed affronted.

“Ahh, so it was Jason…” he said looking over his shoulder to throw her a cocky smile.

“Fuck you.” She grumbled with no heat behind it, returning her focus to Alfred, much to his apparent pleasure.

“Already said no to that.  But, if it was Jason, I sincerely hope they were watching that move you pulled when you first came in because he is going to be panting after you after seeing that.”

Her cheeks flushed brightly and Jason preened at causing her to blush even without being there.  She let out annoyed growl.  “This is not the place for this conversation.  Actually, there is no place where I would want to have this conversation with you but especially not where we probably have an audience.  Did you get the information?”

“Almost done.  Someone interrupted me,” Constantine subconsciously rubbed his jaw, “or I would be done already,” he said pointedly.  “And here,” he said throwing a small, white cube into the air but the woman made no move to catch it keeping her eyes on Constantine instead.

“It was important.  Believe me when I say I cut that way shorter than I wanted.  You should really thank this kitty for your lack of bruises,” she said cooing at the cat and petting him more.

“Hell of a thanks for getting this for you,” he said holding up a small device.  “Luckily for us, one of them, I’m guessing Tim, already did the hard work getting the information from the League for us.  Believe me when I say getting it from the League of Assassins would have been far, far more difficult than from the bats.”

“Awesome.  Let’s get out of here before any of the bats come home to roost.  I’m not looking forward to the wrath leaving a wake of bloody and bruised bats would create.”  She stepped away and whispered something they couldn’t hear.  As soon as she said the words, she was bathed in a blinding aqua light again and was replaced with the figure they first saw step out of the portal.

“She has a magical girl sequence…” Dick whispered in awe.

The woman said something sounding like “Voyage” and made a motion to her side.  A shimmering portal opened where she had previously indicated.  “Come on, we’ve been here too long as it is.” She said stepping through the portal.

Constantine looked up at the surveillance camera and gave a wicked smile with a salute before following her through the portal.

The portal closed, leaving the batcave quiet and empty again.

The bat boys stared at the screen for a few more seconds unsure what to say next.  Bruce moved forward to speak when there was movement on the screen.  They watched as a much smaller portal opened back up and Alfred was pushed through, the portal closed quickly behind him.  Alfred turned around and looked around meowing a few times, batting his paw where the portal was.

The quiet of the room was disrupted by a loud phone ringer waking everyone out of their stupor.  Suddenly everyone started talking at once except for Damian who just glared at the screen.  Dick yelled over everyone to silence them pulling out his phone.  “Hey Alfred, we’ll be right out.”  He started to make his way to the exit followed by everyone else when Bruce stopped them.

“They're gone and it's Constantine, it won't be against us.  We don't need to prepare for an attack.  The priority right now is the announcement.  We make the announcement then call Constantine and investigate her.”

“You would choose the one person in the room that was spying on us, Todd.” Damian growled redirecting his glare toward Jason instead of the screen.

“And yet, not the most deceitful one in the room or the most dangerous. Definitely the hottest though. No offense Dick.” Jason said shrugging off the accusation.

“Not the most dangerous to us?  She just threatened to leave a, and I quote, ‘wake of bloody and bruised bats’ behind her.  And she found a way to bypass all of our security to break into the cave and hack the computer.  How is that not a threat?” Tim yelled at him.  This girl was an immediate threat they knew nothing about.  She was skilled and had magic on her side and they knew nothing, absolutely fucking nothing, about her to know what kind of threat she was and Jason was just going with it because she had a pretty face.  He was going to let this girl saunter on into their sanctum sanctorum with no questions at all.  “I know it is hard for you, but you need to start looking beyond your next conquest or you are going to get us all killed.”

“Let me get this straight,” Jason glared at the family, “Dick spent the night talking up a chick that would sell us all out for a dime just so he could get lucky.  Tim spent the night talking up a business man I saw sexually assault someone AT THIS GALA just so he had the chance at a few extra bucks.” Tim opened his mouth to defend himself but Jason continued, speaking over him.  “Bruce spent the night talking up a known thief who was probably casing the guests for a future job, again just so he could get lucky. No offense Selina.”  She bowed her head and held up her champagne glass to show she took it in stride.  And he wasn’t wrong.  That was exactly what she was doing and why she asked for the information on that woman’s designer.  

“And Damian... well Damian doesn't talk to people but I guarantee he spent the night plotting multiple people's murder, mine included.  There’s no way he wasn’t.” Damian crossed his arms and looked away, even more annoyed by the accurate description.  “And I'm getting in trouble because I spent the night talking up someone working with an ally?” he asked incredulously.  

They had all just witnessed the same scene.  They had evidence she wasn’t a villain, she wasn’t a threat.  She was someone they needed to help and they weren’t seeing it.  This is exactly why he hated working with them.  Oh, they wanted to help, but only on their terms. Only if they controlled it and they didn’t control this.  This was an unknown that had been dropped on them instead of them finding and investigating on their own.  They were licking their wounded egos instead of trying to figure out how to help.  They were wasting time with this stupid argument.  “Fuck all of you and your fucked up so called ‘morals’.  She might have been the only really good person in this room, definitely the only trustworthy, honest person and you’re ignoring the situation Constantine mentioned.”

“She was spying on us, imbecile.” Damian growled at him.

“FOR CONSTANTINE!” he yelled back.  How were they still missing that point?  It was like they were intentionally missing it.  “Did nobody else watch what just happened?  Did all of you assholes miss Constantine say he devised this whole thing to get us to help her?  Did you shitheads miss how Constantine is treating her? He ain't treating her like he does us. He’s being protective.  That means he thinks she’s a good guy and a good person unlike the rest of us mother fuckers.  More than that, he’s treating her with kid gloves.  He doesn’t treat anyone with kid gloves, not even kids.  He’s trying to help her in and out of the mask.  He’s motherhenning the fuck out of her.  When have any of you ever seen Constantine act that way about anyone or anything?  She needs our help.”

“SHE HELPED SOMEONE BREAK INTO THE BATCAVE!” Tim yelled.

“ENOUGH!” Bruce yelled silencing everyone in the room.  “Like he told her, this entire night was more about her than us.  He wanted us to know something was going on and for us to get involved.  And he was desperate enough to keep her trust that he concocted this whole plot to make sure we knew without breaking his word. He probably left us a clue by not covering what he got from the computer if not a message.”

“That’s a lot of words for ‘Jason is right’” Jason said smugly. “Come on B, you can just say it. ‘Jason is right.  We should listen to him.’  It’ll make you feel lighter to just finally say it.”

“You can’t be serious father,” Damian groused.

“Stop being such a jealous ass bitch, Demon Spawn.  Just because Alfred tried to run away with her…” Jason smirked at him.

Damian jumped up, face bright red and furious indicating he had every intention of following through with the plans he had been making during the gala.  Bruce stepped between him and Jason, not prepared to deal with the fight right now. They had an announcement to make and it would not look good if the boys showed up with fresh cuts and bruises. It’s hard to sell the story of a happy, functional family when the evidence to the contrary is on full display. “Now that we all agree,” he glared at them all until they quieted down.  “We’ve been in here long enough.  Let’s get back out there and make the announcement and show everyone what a supportive family that is ecstatic to have their brother back we are.  After that, Tim and Jason can go home to start the investigation.”

“Father, I would certainly be more help than him,” Damian objected indicating Jason, “also, there is no reason for me to still be here with these vapid, insolent morons.”

Bruce grunted.  Damian had a point about no reason for him to be there.  And the longer he was here the more likely it would be for him to finally snap and break someone’s hand and maybe more.  “Fine.  Take Damian, too.”  He waved his hand dismissively.  “Now move, we’re making this announcement right now.”

Damian gave a curt nod and turned to follow his father out of the door.  Selina coughed discretely drawing Bruce’s attention back to the room.  He looked at her questioningly.  She eyed Damian and Jason then nodded toward Dick.

Ahh.  She had a point, those three together would result in blood at the very least and the high probability for broken bones, cracked ribs, and dislocated joints, making patrol schedules very difficult until they healed.  “And Dick.  Nobody kills anyone.  I don’t care what you find or what is said, I don’t want any blood to clean when I get back.”

He started walking again but noticed nobody following him. He turned back to them exasperated and raised an eyebrow.  He noted everyone’s eyes on him giving him a deadpan expression and questioning expressions of their own.  “Fine, I don’t want Alfred to have to clean any blood when he gets back,” he sighed.  There was a round of begrudging agreement noises and the family started moving toward the gala again.  

The boys followed him out the door but Dick held onto Tim’s shoulder prompting him to hang back from the rest of the group.  He watched the rest of the family walk ahead of them.  When there was sufficient space between them, he started hitting Tim’s shoulder repeatedly still not looking at him.  Tim brushed off his hands and glared at him annoyed, “What?  You know Bruce is going to be mad we’re not out there.”

“Yeah, yeah.  This will be quick.”  He glanced round to make sure nobody was close enough to hear them.  “Bring up the video of the woman in the cave again.”

Tim gave him a suspicious look but pulled it up. “Okay, now what?”

Dick grinned excitedly, “Rewind the recording to the beginning.  Can you get a better angle of her glare?  I need to see the glare that is better than Batman’s.”  Bruce’s glare was legendary.  If this girl’s glare is that good, he had to see it.  Tim grinned back and scrolled through the different feeds looking for the one that would give them the best angle.

Chapter 3

Tags:

@loveswifi @mystery-5-5 @dreamykitty25 @ira-sairain @wannajointhecrabcult @susiej1118 @our-presciousss @casual-darkness @ertyzeta @mandy984 @darkthunder1589 @chez-pezeater @emilytopaz @elements1999 @nik-nak-3 @mermaidreject @dramatic-squirrel @thenillabean @alysrose-starchild @phoenixperegrinebitch @nickristus-dreamer @goblinwhoships @g-arya  @no-username2544

 I think I included everyone who asked to be tagged.  I’m sorry if I missed anyone.

I realize there is no actual Jasonette interaction in this and for that, I am truly sorry.  I’m disappointed too.

[cardiophileanonymous]

Late Night Errands Chapter 1

Mulder x Reader

Summary: The reader is a paralegal preparing to help defend her client on trial in a week. The stress has finally convinced her to go out and get a stethoscope to help calm her down. Little does she know a certain agent was watching her out while she was out late at night, and it makes her a prime suspect in his eyes.

Y/n= your name

Y/f/n Y/l/n= your first and last name

B/f/n= your best friend’s name

...

Y/n slammed the door shut then started to punch the sides of the steering wheel. What in the world was going through her mind? Of course this store wouldn’t have any stethoscopes! Even if it was a pharmacy. People don’t have stuff like that lying around in their homes. Not normal people, anyway. What was she gonna say to the employee when they inevitably asked why she was looking for one? “Oh, I don’t need one, I just want it for my weird-ass heartbeat kink!” Yeah, that was one conversation she didn’t want to have.

She silently stared at the moon for a few brief moments. Why couldn’t she have a normal kink like everyone else? Like feet, maybe. It still would’ve been weird, but dammit, at least she’d be able to find porn of it. The best she could find easily was cardiophilia fanfiction, and even then, it was scarce.

She snuck glances around the parking lot. Nobody in sight. So hopefully, nobody would notice the blush on her face when she brought up an hour long “asmr heartbeat” video for the sake of calming herself down.

She smiled in bliss. When a heartbeat was in the background, it was like everything melted away. She groaned in frustration when she heard a text from her friend, B/f/n.

Don’t forget we’re having lunch tomorrow! I’m taking your mind off that trial if it’s the last thing I do!

She was double pissed now that the stress of last week filled her head. She was a paralegal, and one of her clients was set to go on trial less than a week from now. It was the oddest case she’d ever seen. The case of Bill Brown.

The man had killed exactly one-hundred people in the span of less than half a year. And the details he gave were chilling. They were vivid and graphic. So, he must’ve been a sociopath or something, right? Well he was super remorseful. And upon turning himself in, that’s right, turning himself in, he sobbed for three days straight. What’s strangest was he claimed he didn’t know they happened until the memories came back to him that night.

She wouldn’t have believed it either, if he didn’t point to bodies that hadn’t been found yet. He helped officers uncover at least a quarter of his victims.

It gave everyone working in his defense a headache. Argue innocence and a false confession? He flat out admitted details the public didn’t know. Did they argue insanity? He seemed pretty fucking sane during interviews and psych evaluations. Self defense? Not in a million years.

What got at her was the genuine feeling he was innocent, and that someone, or something, could be out there. The idea of being out there in the city alone with it out and about gave her the creeps.

“Whatever,” she whispered, turning the audio up so she could return to her blissful ignorant state. Where everything melted away. Where she was actually pretty happy with a smile on her face. With that, she began to drive away.

…

All she could think about when she finished getting dressed was the trial. The trial, the trial, the trial. This was gonna be the biggest train wreck she would ever see in her career, and she had only become a paralegal a mere three years ago. She didn’t envy the defense attorneys she was working under.

Her thoughts were interrupted by three knocks at the door. Strange, she wasn’t expecting anyone today, except for B/f/n, and she was always late for everything.

She looked through the peephole to see two people in fancy clothing outside. She opened the door just a crack.

“H-hello…?”

“Y/f/n Y/l/n,” the man asked. Y/n nodded hesitantly. The man speaking held up the badge and the woman behind him did the same. “Agents Mulder and Skully, FBI. We have a few questions about your client. The one who’s set to go on trial next week.”

She turned her head to the side.

“I’m sorry, I think you might be mistaken. I-I’m not an attorney, I’m just a paralegal.”

“Oh, we’re not mistaken. That’s exactly why we wanted to talk to you.”

She looked inside her apartment real quick, then back at them.

“Okay… come on in. Just come in quickly so the cat doesn’t get out. She has a habit of running outside.”

She was internally grateful that her friend talked her into going out for lunch. She would’ve felt embarrassed if she had had to talk to these well dressed professionals in her pajamas. Skully knelt down, petting Y/n’s cat that had just walked up to the two.

“Um… would you like tea or anything? I’m about to make some for myself now.”

Skully lifted up one of her hands while she let the small animal nuzzle into her other one.

“That won’t be necessary. We plan to be out as soon as possible.”

“O-okay… um... I’m guessing you’re here to ask about Bill Brown?”

Mulder nodded.

“That’s correct.”

“I… don’t really understand. He’s set to go on trial less than a week from now. Why is the FBI getting involved? I thought this was settled, more or less.”

“We think he may be the wrong guy. We’re investigating a series of murders strikingly similar to the ones he supposedly committed a year and a half ago. We need to look at some of the previous evidence and cross examine it with the crimes happening now.”

She still seemed unconvinced.

“Why haven’t you gone to my firm? Or better yet, the police? I-I’m sure they have everything on file.”

Mulder shook his head.

“The lawyers won’t speak to us. And the police department doesn’t want to reopen the investigation when they’re so close to closing it. They don’t want to cause panic.”

She nodded. That actually wasn’t that hard a story to believe, considering the people she worked with on a daily basis. She just looked around the room.

“Okay… you might want to rethink my offer about the tea, then. And have a seat. Because this’ll take a long time.”

...

She presented them with a long list of documents. Some images, most legal papers. She pulled out the two things that were most of interest to her, a map of where the killings took place as well as a few images of supposed murder weapons.

“I’m not really sure what you’re looking for, so here's everything, I guess.”

Skully started flipping through the legal papers, reading passages of the man’s confession. Y/n’s cat slipped under Skully’s arms and laid on her lap as she continued to read. Mulder took a keen eye to the map.

“When did these murders take place?”

“Um, September 14th through February 10th, sir.”

“And he moved here the day these murders started, correct?”

“C-c-correct. You… didn’t already know this?”

“Oh I did. I just wanted to make sure you did. Encyclopedic knowledge of a case is the sign of a good paralegal, don’t you think?”

“Oh!” She let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Thanks…”

“Tell me, Y/n. What do you think happened?”

“Well, the evidence clearly shows he’s guilty, so… we are going to be arguing that he did these crimes due to mania and insanity.”

“No, Y/n. What do you really think?”

She looked down, and started to get finicky. She sat up straight.

“I think he’s innocent… and I have a theory about what happened. But… I don’t think anyone would believe me.”

Skully raised an eyebrow.

“Why haven’t you brought it up with any of the defense attorneys?”

She looked away, then back at the both of them.

“You won’t… tell anyone, right? I don’t wanna lose my job because everyone thinks I’m crazy.”

Mulder nodded expectantly.

“Of course not. Now, what did you find?”

She flipped through the papers.

“While they were at his house… they found a lot of these DVDs.” She was somewhat mumbling under her breath. When she pulled out the image she presented it to Mulder. “I’ve looked them up and they’re all from a lesser known hypnotist.”

Mulder read the bottom of the DVD covers.

“Hannah Martin?”

“...yes. I’ve tried to find those specific DVDs myself, on her website or Amazon or whatnot, but, uh, I can’t find them.”

“Why do you find these significant?”

“Um… Skully, was it? May I please have the written interview?”

She handed it to her. Now that her hands were free, Skully began to pet the cat sitting on her legs, who purred in appreciation. She cleared her throat and began to read.

“Bill said ‘I moved to start a new life, I tried to smile every day, I helped my neighbors, I listened to hypnosis videos every night before bed to make me a better person. I did my best to turn my life around… but I guess I was a monster this whole time. Last night, my memories came back to me in my dreams. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…’”

Mulder nodded.

“So you think that the hypnosis videos he watched before bed may have mind controlled or influenced him into committing these crimes overnight?”

Her face began to turn red and a wave of feeling stupid hit her.

“I’m sorry! I know that sounds insane!”

“No, not to me.” She was in awe. He was actually entertaining her insane supernatural idea? “How far have you looked into this Hanna Martin?”

“You have to pay at least five-hundred dollars for her to create a hundred and fifty custom sessions to send to you personally through DVDs. Um, the first alleged murder was one hundred and forty-nine days before the last alleged murder. That day he confessed would be day one hundred and fifty.”

Mulder seemed incredibly interested. He gazed down at the image he was holding.

“Thank you for bringing this information to my attention. Can you please scan this and make a copy for me? I want to see if I can track down these DVDs.”

“O-okay!”

She was a little excited that her idea was being entertained. And, aside from that, this agent was very cute! So he was cute and as conspiracy crazy as she was?! She smiled like a dope when she was no longer being watched, her back to the two. She began making the copy.

“Another question for you, Y/n.”

She gulped. Something about this man saying her name made her stomach drop.

“Y-yeah…?”

“Do you go out at night often?”

The feeling of her stomach dropping was now from fear.

“What do you mean?”

“I saw your car parked outside the local drugstore late last night, any reason for it?”

She swallowed, hard. She was going for ulterior motives, but she was relieved she had something to fall back on.

“I was getting my medication. Um, I can show you if you want proof?”

“There’s no need to. But midnight is fairly late to be running errands like that, don’t you think?”

She breathed in.

“I couldn’t sleep. So I thought I might as well do something productive.”

He nodded. She turned to look at him, but she couldn’t quite read his face. Was he insinuating what she thought he was? Or was this all in her head? If he thought she was involved, he was probably crazy. She just laid out all this evidence to prove her client innocent, and possibly even helped point to the real killer, yet he thought she might be the guilty one?

“Did you happen to purchase anything from this hypnotist?”

“No, I don’t have that kind of money… and besides, i-if I am right, I don’t know if I would want to get anything from her.”

“Mhm.”

Her dopey smile and blush was gone by the time she handed the copied image to Mulder.

“I’m not sure about the legality of this…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it.”

She was a bit angry when they left. B/f/n was a bit confused walking in.

“What happened?”

“Ugh! The stupid FBI is involved in the case now. They wanted to see some stuff.”

She tilted her head to the side and her nose crinkled in disbelief.

“The FBI?”

“I don’t know either! Just… help me pick up these papers. Actually, don’t! I need to make sure they’re all in order before court in a few days!”

She nodded as Y/n began to put everything as they were supposed to be.

“...that guy was kind of cute.”

She sighed.

“I thought that, too. But actually, he’s a dick.”

[imagineabrighterworld]

Tsundere!Tenya Iida x Reader

A/N: Request from @coledrawsstuff , hope you like it! ^^

You meet him at the entrance exam

It was the day of the entrance exam, and you couldn't be more excited and terrified. You ran to the gates, opting out of using public transportation should you be late to the test, which meant you were already sweating despite the crisp breeze. Amid the students waiting to enter the testing room, you can't help but notice a boy stretching in blue gear. It was a little confusing, as it was yet to be the battle simulation test. Why was he stretching for.. Writing?

Suddenly you were grateful to have the excuse of over exertion on your side as you feel your face begin to warm.

He was.. Impressive looking. Though he was intimidating with how serious he was, he had the body of an Adonis.

Though you should have been studying your notes to prepare for the test, your eyes were glued to him. But your rational brain managed to snap you out of your gawking just enough to go back to the matter at hand.

Closing your eyes, you focus on the vibrations of metal around you. From a vending machine three miles away, the water fountain one block away, and to the steel charm in your palm, you relaxed and let your magnetism do it's work. You had to be in harmony with the metals you attracted, and this was the easiest way, just letting the metals come to you. Not that you were going to summon a vending machine to pummel something. That would make way to much of a scene. So you continued your little practice.

Meanwhile, you let your mind drift to the muscular boy in glasses.

Unfortunately your magnetism attracted something else too, or someone else

In your defense, the boy was built like a brick wall, which was hard not to look at. You couldn't help but wonder how much training and what kind of strict regimen it took to maintain a body like that. You surely didn't have the energy to maintain a system like his.

“What are you doing?!”

A voice snaps you out of your thoughts, causing you to stumble forward and smack into something sturdy. “Huh?” You look up, throat turning dry as you stare directly into the eyes of the Adonis himself.

He glares at you, his glasses catching the light and obscuring his dark blue eyes.

You hold back a squeak and back away, giving him an extra two feet of space. “Sorry about that, I didn't mean to-” Your body pulls itself back to him, causing you to bump knees with him.

You look downward and find the cause of the scene. He had engines in his calves.

Oh goddess..

You release your magnetism, tripping over your own two feet to create more space between you two. “I swear it wasn't intentional!” He holds your gaze for a moment, his mouth open as if ready to chew you out, but before he can the Pro Hero Present Mic yells over the cacophony of students, telling them it was time to start.

The boy mutters something under his breath and walks away, dropping to the ground and launching himself through the doors, bypassing a green haired boy that looked as nervous as you.

You give the frozen boy a sympathetic nod before running after the other students that had already begun their conquest of Battle Block B.

“Please don't let me find him.” You mumble to yourself.

You had laid out a trap and magnetized the robots to crash into each other, crunching them up into a ball of scrap metal

It was some miracle that the test was within the normal use of your quirk, so you were able to make a quick strategy on how to gather up points. You were uneasy of course, because they must know that there is bound to be a kid with magnetism or ferrokinesis on their side. Keeping that in mind, you build up on your plan for aiming for the top spot.

So far the test had been a breeze for you. With your magnetism you managed to pull the robots into themselves, crushing them like wads of scrap paper. Occasionally you would spot the green haired boy, feeling pity for him when he would arrive just a little too late to gather points. You were tempted to help him, but with the clock counting down, you did whatever you could to get more points for yourself. You were at thirty seven and were working on getting an extra six points by creating a giant trap. It wasn't something you had practiced before, magnetizing more than two large objects at a time, but you had little choice if you wanted to enter the hero course.

Gathering your strength you pull your hands together and magnetize three of the giant robots to clash together, but by doing this you miss seeing a fourth robot readying to bash you into a demolished building.

He saves you from a robot about to blast you, running and catching you in his arms

Tenya Iida was many things, he liked to believe that chivalrous was one of those qualities. As a member of the prominent Iida family of heroes, he strived to make his family proud. He put all his might into the test, knowing that the faculty were watching everyone with keen eyes, seeing how they assessed each situation and complication. But what he did not take into account was you. You threw him off his groove, off his calm mentality. Even now he wondered how you were fairing against the robots. But he didn't have to ponder for very long as he saw a level 2 villain bot prepare to smack you aside.

He had no time to warn you as his instincts kicked in. Engines blazing, he jets towards you, scooping you into his arms and carting you both to a safer direction.

“You must watch out for yourself! A hero is vigilant and always aware of their surroundings! You could have been badly injured!” He yells at you, unsure why he felt so peeved. You wouldn't have died, the heroes knew to hold back enough for a simulation like this. And yet here he was, angry with you, someone he barely met.

You release your magnetism on the bots from earlier, knowing they were turned to scrape when you heard the resounding clang of empty metal. “I-I was fine!”

But of course he did not believe you. He just- it was frustrating to see you defend yourself when you didn't know the situation you were in!

He sets you down and runs off, barking from over his shoulder as he moves on to gather more points. “Keep an eye on your surroundings!”

Towards the end of the exam he realizes what your plan was and swoons on the inside

With the exams over, Tenya returns home and waits for his brother to drive before retelling the story of how his experience was. He made sure to include the people he got to meet, which included you.

“Maybe that was their plan.” His older brother Tensei says while using his chopsticks to dunk a dumpling in a dish of sauce. “Gather the battle bots to use them as a wrecking ball. If you don't have a weapon, you make one.”

Tenya pauses in his eating, covering his mouth to hide his mid bite into a cabbage roll.

Was that your plan? Were you just making yourself an opportunity? Did he squander your work?

His mother laughs while his father smiles at him as he shakes his head.

“Next time you see them, apologize.” Tensei winks. “And don't just go picking up people without reason.”

You are in 1-A, taking the place of Hagakure, meaning you were far in front of Iida

When you received word of entering U.A.’s hero course, you were absolutely ecstatic, nothing could ruin your mood! Except maybe the dreaded fear that engine boy would be joining you in 1-A..

Taking your seat in the front corner of the room, you fiddle with the steel charm on your necklace, latting it bounce above your fingertips and circle your fingers. There wasn't much to do other than to wait for the teacher to arrive. You were early, and gratefully so, as it took you awhile to find the classroom. Your nerves had begun to settle but as soon as the bell had run and the class filled with nearly all 19 students (excluding yourself of course), you knew what was going to happen.

“You there!”

Oh goddess.

The boy from the entrance exam walks up to you, towering over you as he stands erect in front of your desk. The steel charm you were playing with plops onto the desk with a light thud. “Yes?”

From the angle you were looking at him, it looked as though he were glaring into your soul, sending an uncomfortable chill down your spine.

He chops a hand in the air. “My name is Tenya Iida, of the Iida family! I apologize for what I did to you at the entrance exam, but you must show more care about your own well being! No one will be there to save you next time! We are supposed to be the saviors, not the saved!”

It takes you a moment to process his words, but by the time he moves to his seat, you have no chance to say anything.

What a weird boy..

You occasionally give him looks but are much too afraid to act

As class carried on and situations arised, you began to see past Tenya’s abrasive personality. He meant well, but he performed with such energy that it was difficult for you to relax near him. You wanted to be his friend, he was a good guy. You had heard his laughter and seen his smile with his small group of friends, and you thought it might be nice if he smiled at you like that.. But how were you to get through to him??

He too wants to get closer, but his personality makes it very difficult to discern anger from excitement

Tenya knows he's a bit on the.. Extreme side when he gets excitable, so he enlists the help of his friend Midoriya to talk to you.

“Hey um- over here?" Midoriya waves to you from his spot at one of the lunch tables. He was alone with just his tray, innocent enough, so you go to him. Despite being classmates you didn't get the chance to really talk with Midoriya before, so you figured now would be a good time.

"Hi, did you want to talk about something?" You question while sitting across from him, already picking up an orange to begin peeling it.

Midoriya looks down at his tray, hands fidgety. "Um, yeah. It's about Iida."

Your mood dips slightly, thumb accidentally jamming into the soft flesh of the citrus fruit. "What about him?"

"Do you.. hate Iida?"

This threw you off-course. You had been expecting him to talk up his friend and how great of a person he was, not question if you hated him. Because if you were being honest, you didn't hate him. Sure he intimidated you, but the way he acted around the others made you think he was just hard to get through. Sort of like Todoroki, though Todoroki still was in his own shell.

"I don't hate him." You pile the peels onto your tray, glancing around the room for Iida before biting your lip. "He's a little much.. but I think he's kinda sweet. He's just a little scary sometimes."

The boy in front of you sighs in relief, slumping slightly in his seat. "Yeah, he can be really excitable huh?"

You smile, "A little?" You mimic Iida's signature move of arm chopping the air.

Midoriya laughs. "Like that! But if you look past that he's a really good person. He scared me at first too. But, try getting to know him. We're classmates, and I think he wants to get to know you, he's just bad at it."

Considering his words, you pull the orange in half and offer him a piece. "I'll give it a try."

You two are paired for a project which leads you to slowly getting to know him better

For a class project, you had drawn lots to assign partners as there were obvious cliques already formed. Your teacher didn't like the idea of such bias and so the polling system was chosen instead. The girls urged you forward, trying to get your  mind off of the odds of you picking the boy glaring at you from behind the class. Reaching into the box, your heart nearly burst out of your chest when you read the words Tenya Iida in perfect script. Trudging back to your seat after announcing your partner, you take a peek at him in the most subtle way you could, but to your dismay, he was already looking at you with his normal stoic face.

“Is this okay?”

“Of course it is! It is perfect!”

You jump in your seat, laughing nervously when Tenya yells, drawing attention to the two of you. You had scooted your seat closer to his in order to talk about the details of the project. It was a week-long examination of Pro Heroes and their strategies. In a way you were grateful for having him as a partner, he was well organized and fair, and wasn't too bad to look at either…

You pinch yourself on the cheek.

He was overall a good person, he was just so intimidating.

“Which hero do you believe is our best candidate?” He asks, nudging the list of names closer to you.

“I haven't thought of that yet.” You admit while taking hold of the paper. Your eyes widen curiously. “Hey your brother is on here!”

“He is?” Tenya leans in closer to look over your shoulder at the names, causing a pink blush on your cheeks. “You're right!” He announces proudly.

Looking at his jovial expression, something so different from his usual scowling (at least when you're looking) was refreshing, and caused a smile to form on your face.

“We could do the assignment on your brother, that way we'll get the best information!”

For the first time since you've met him, he smiles at you. A genuine smile.

“You're right, getting our information from the source will give us an advantage over the others. Our project will be flawless!”

Again, the damned color red rushes to your face, but this time he notices. Seeing your face turn pink caused an odd feeling to stir in his chest. Sure he had told himself he was wrong about you, like how he was wrong about Midoriya during the exams. But he never had the opportunity to say it to you.

Now that he had the chance, he.. He couldn't do it.

“S-Shall we set up a time to meet for the project?” He stumbles over his words. “For the project. That is due in a week. This project.”

You spare him the humiliation of telling him he repeated himself way to much and instead nod. “How about tomorrow afternoon. Do you think your brother will be free then?”

“My brother?”

“You know, to ask him questions?”

He blanks.

You giggle behind your palm, taking a pen and scribbling down your number before tucking it into his hand. “Just call me when you figure it out, ‘kay?”

He was an absolute mess, but luckily he had Tensei

On the day of your meeting, you get to the Iida household fifteen minutes earlier than you were supposed to. Unsure of whether to enter yet or not, you stay outside, sitting on the stone porch, admiring the koi pond in the corner. It was peaceful listening tenth bubbling water and the occasional chirping of birds. But not long into your wait, a boy looking similar to Tenya walks in through then front gates and to the porch where you sat. 

The young man looks you over knowingly, a warm smile on his face as he offers his hand. “You're my little brother’s friend right?”

You take his hand and shake it firmly. “I am- I think.” You weren't sure exactly what you were to the young Iida really. He still acted rough and a little cold sometimes. 

His brother exhales, his smile only warming. “Don't mind him, he's got some getting used to when it comes to socializing.” Unlocking the door, he beckons you inside. “Don't be shy, it’s safe to come in. I’ll grab him for you.”

You follow him inside, looking around at the pictures on the walls. “Actually we need you too.”

“Ah- right, right. Well, I’m here till five.” He speaks over his shoulder, loosening his tie as he walks upstairs to what you assume is the living space. “Tenya! Your friend is here!”

Straight away a loud thump sounds off from upstairs, followed by the sound of an engine and another thunk. You wince at the sound, smiling when you see Tenya walk downstairs with a red face and glasses askew. 

Thats where the thumps came from. 

“I apologize for my late arrival, I should have been the one to answer the door. My sincerest apologies!” He bends at the waist but you wave it off. 

“Don't worry about it.” You hold up your bag where your laptop lay snuggly inside. “Lets begin.”

You finish the project in record time, leaving you with time for other things 

It was no surprise to the class that you both received high marks for your work; you both were dedicated and reaching for the top spots in your class when it came to academics. But what did surprise them was how slow you both were when it came to your relationship. Be it romantic or platonic. So the girls set up a little something to finally speed things up. Hopefully you wouldn't kill them later for it. 

Clutching a letter close to your chest, you stand in the middle of the training field, heart beating in your ribs like a wild horse. 

The letter was not something you expected to receive. And it definitely wasn't from the person you thought you might receive one from. It was heartfelt and near-poetic, it was sweet and- the complete opposite of what you expected from Tenya Iida, the straight forward stoic. 

Hell, you didn't even expect anything at all from him. Least of all a love letter.

During and after the project, you had to admit that deep inside his extreme exterior, he was a sweetheart. He meant the best and wanted only good things for others, but his excitement could make him.. terrifying. Still, you were willing to look past that and gibe him a chance. 

If he would give you a chance.. 

When his figure finally appears, you squeeze the letter tighter in your hand, not even thinking of how crippled the delicately written note would be once you opened it up again.

He was dressed in his uniform, sweat gleaming on his skin. He must've ran all the way here after he was done with whatever business he had to deal with after school. 

“You-” He pants, “You're really here.”

You furrow your brows. “I am. You wrote for me to meet you here.”

Tenya takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly, reaching into his breast pocket and drawing out a similar colored letter. “I was told to come here as well. By you.” He opens the letter, scanning through the words before stopping on a line. “Meet me at the training field by five o’clock. Please, don't be late.” 

He tucks the letter away. “Those were your words, weren't they?” A strange look is in his eyes, and now you can't discern whether the color blooming on his face is from his run or from something else.

“It wasn't me.. I got the same letter, and I thought.. well.. I thought it was from you.” You open up the crumpled paper, looking over the confession that was written in delicate writing. It certainly didn't sound like his normal approach at talking, but maybe a part of you hoped that he.. liked you.

The two of you stay silent, listening to the whistling of wind passing through the trees. 

“Did you think it was true?”

Your gaze snaps to him.

“..What?”

He looks down, a hand on his neck while the other still clutches the love letter in his hand. “Did you believe it? That I.. like you?”

You think back: your first day meeting him, asking him for notes, watching him take on challenges with pure passion, encouraging his friends and never giving up on them, the softness of his hand when he helped you down the stairs of his home when you twisted your ankle. There was moments where you believed you might love him.

“I hoped it was true.” You say quietly. “I hoped you liked me.”

Again, silence. 

He looks at the letter in his hand, face ablaze with pink and red. 

“The letter, wasn't far off from reality.”

You don't have to look at him to know he's moving closer to you. Your magnetism allows you to feel when he's inches away.

Now you look up at him.

“You’ve attracted me.” 

It didn't take a magnet for your lips to collide. 

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 12

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite

Alastair clutched his sharpest dagger in his hand as he followed Thomas to the ruins. He’d been carrying it with him, just in case. His cousin Jem was not fond of his dagger collection, but Alastair had found the daggers could calm him down. He liked moving twirling them in his hand, he liked the way the grip felt in his hands. He didn’t hurt himself, and even if he did he would never use his precious daggers. It was an odd interest, one Alastair had held since he was about twelve and had entered a decorative weapon’s shop with Cordelia by accident. His father had called it all rubbish, nothing compared to cortana, and while that was true, Alastair’s eye had fallen onto a beautiful, but simple and relatively affordable dagger. He’d asked his mother if he could have it for his birthday. She’d warned him, it wasn’t a toy, these were for decoration, but he did keep them for decoration, hanging them on his bedroom wall, occasionally holding them. They weren’t meant for use except under unusual circumstances like this.

He understood Jem’s concern, as a psychiatrist he must have seen many patients who struggled with self harm, but Alastair never had. With the current circumstances, he was glad to have something to defend himself with just in case. He hated not knowing what was coming though. He hated this constant fear that Thomas was right, that something was coming for him next and Alastair had no idea how to stop it.

He would never admit it to anyone but himself, but he was in love with Thomas. It felt a lot like when he’d just started his relationship with Charles, yet also different. It was wondrous feeling, falling in love. Wanting to be near him all the time when Alastair usually preferred solitude, wanting to see him happy and doing anything to make sure he was. The warm, fuzzy feeling when Thomas smiled at him. But there was a reason people called it falling in love, and Alastair had learnt by now that after the fall came the landing.

He’d do anything to keep Thomas safe. He had no idea what he’d do if he died. He didn’t think he could bear it. If anyone deserved to live, to be happy, it was Thomas. He wondered if he should tell Thomas how he felt. He knew now Thomas was gay, but if Thomas liked him, would he ask him advice for coming out to his parents? Then of course Alastair had confided in Charles, had asked him for advice all the time. He’d taken his advice to heart once, thinking Charles was so much older and wiser and knew what was best.

The ruins looked abandoned. Alastair knew there were plenty of ruins in Scotland, but he hadn’t heard of any being at walking distance. Lucie had come here often enough that she must have known about them, her grandmother lived here year round. Usually, ruins did not appear out of nowhere. He could make out the outline of what must have been a building once, an upright wall here and there.

‘This must have been a castle once,’ Alastair said. ‘Considering how big it is. Where are we?’

‘I’m guessing we’re still in the woods,’ Thomas said. ‘Perhaps it’s like in Beauty and the Beast and people are enchanted to not find it.’

Alastair couldn’t roll his eyes enough. ‘First of all, in Beauty and the Beast there was nothing keeping people from finding the castle, they just never did because they did not leave their village. Not that any of that made sense. And if people are enchanted not to find this place, why would we?’

‘I’m sure there’s a story somewhere that describes this,’ Thomas said. ‘Perhaps it can only be found under certain circumstances, on certain days or hours. Oh, there’s an inscription here.’

Alastair walked over to see where Thomas was pointing. ‘It’s in Scottish Gaelic, I imagine. I can’t read that,’ Alastair said.

‘Me neither,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But I’ll take a picture. Perhaps we can decipher at home.’

Alastair wasn’t sure it would be important but it was worth a try. Mysterious ruins no one knew were there had to hold some sort of important clue, right? Alastair remembered what they’d discussed about the possibility of people getting trapped in places by a supernatural entity. Was this what it looked like? He tried not to think about the possibility of being trapped here with no escape.

He took out his phone. No cell reception, but that didn’t surprise him. He took some pictures too, making sure to look at every part of the ruins and see if there was anything of interest. He remembered it all, of course, but being able to show people pictures was easier than dragging them all into his memory.

‘I think there’s a cellar down here,’ Thomas said, standing at a trap door.

Alastair leaned down and tried to open it, but it was stuck. He yanked as hard as he could but no effect.

‘You’re stronger than me,’ Alastair said. ‘Perhaps you should try.’

Thomas leaned down and started pulling. He really was muscular and Alastair caught himself staring at Thomas’ upper arms as he pulled. Part of him longed to touch those arms, those shoulders.

‘Did you start working out?’ Alastair asked.

Thomas looked up. ‘Yes, why?’

‘I’ve been trying to understand how you’re suddenly so muscular.’

‘Some muscle came with my growth spurt,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But I started working out with James too. I found it enjoyable. Do you?’

‘Not lately. I used to train with wooden swords with Cordelia, and I do try to keep active, but I’ve never really gone to the gym. Although I guess it would be entertaining to watch attractive men work out.’

‘You like muscular men, then?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair wondered what he could answer without giving too much away. ‘I’m not necessarily into body builders or the like, but I do appreciate some muscle. It’s not the main thing I look for in a partner, it’s not all about appearance.’

‘So, what do you look for?’ Thomas asked.

‘I like being able to spend time with someone, have fun with him,’ Alastair said. ‘My ex never took me anywhere, it was mostly making out in his apartment and for him it was very much about sex and about fulfilling his needs. But I would like someone who’s not ashamed of me and takes me places. Like going to a museum, or have dinner somewhere. I guess going to a museum is not a very typical date, but I would really like that.’

‘Really? I’ve always loved art and history museums,’ Thomas said.

Alastair guessed perhaps someday he could ask Thomas to go to a museum with him. It made him love Thomas even more, knowing he didn’t think it was weird Alastair wanted to go a museum, knowing he would like that as well. Charles had always thought he was weird, in a way that said “I like you, but other people won’t”. Or perhaps it was more like "I tolerate you but only as long as you can satisfy me."

‘Not everything has to be outside though,’ Alastair continued. ‘I dislike crowds. I would also like to be at home with someone, and just do nice things, cuddle on the couch, watch a movie, play a game.’

He’d missed that with Charles. The best he’d gotten was watching a movie together at his place, but even then Charles had been impatient to finish and start having sex. Charles had never taken him anywhere in public, claiming it was for his sake because what if someone he knew would see them together? But Alastair didn’t want to hide, and he didn’t want a relationship that was all about sex, or all about someone else’s needs. He wanted to feel loved and appreciated. He knew it wasn’t very realistic that would happen though. He wasn’t an easy person to love.

‘I think I’d like that too,’ Thomas said. ‘I never really thought about that, to be honest. I never thought beyond having crushes on boys and maybe going on dates. But it really sounds nice, going to a museum with someone you like.’

Alastair wondered if Thomas would like to go to a museum with him someday. They’d walked through most of the ruins, and beyond the inscription and the closed trapdoor Alastair couldn’t find anything of interest right now. Nor could he explain how they’d ended up here.

A howl interrupted their conversation. It was a loud sound, the howl of a wolf.

‘Come, let’s get out of here,’ Alastair said softly, grabbing Thomas’ hand.

They took the same route back, and not much later another howl pierced the air. Alastair wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but he held his dagger ready to attack, Thomas’ hand in his free hand, gently pulling him along with him. They wouldn’t get separated. They would make it back. They weren’t trapped.

There were no wolves in Scotland, no ordinary ones at least. They hadn’t been in a very long time. There was an old legend of the wulver, but as far as Alastair knew those were friendly and could sometimes be found fishing. Werewolves, though, were another story. In old stories, werewolves were villagers who went into the woods to change into a wolf. Some drank water from the footprint of a wolf, others wore a belt made of wolf fur. They returned to their villages to kill. They were extremely rare nowadays, the methods of becoming one lost. Many that remained no longer changed back into a human, remaining wolf forever.

Thomas gripped his hand tightly, nails digging into his skin.

‘Tom,’ Alastair whispered.

‘Over there.’

Alastair looked in the direction Thomas pointed at and after blinking a few times he saw it too. Even after training with Risa he still needed to make a conscious effort to see. It walked on its hind legs, using its front paws for support at times. Not quite human in built, but not quite wolf either. It was covered in dark gray hair, some bare patches and dark red stains here and there. Its eyes were a bright yellow, its mouth was opened just a little, sharp teeth visible.

Alastair gently tugged on Thomas’ hand, indicating he wanted to continue. He didn’t dare speak. The werewolf hadn’t seen them yet. Alastair hoped they could get past it without being seen. He could be quiet, he could be careful. Thomas followed, taking careful steps, and glancing back to the werewolf every once in a while. It lifted its nose into the air, sniffing in the cold air. Alastair didn’t feel any wind, couldn’t tell if they were on the safe side of it. Likely, there wasn’t any wind and the wolf could smell them. Its head turned, yellow eyes looking into Alastair’s own.

‘Run,’ he whispered.

He kept his grip on Thomas’ hand. They wouldn’t get separated. He wouldn’t let Thomas die. They ran, and Thomas’ long legs easily pulled him along. Werewolves were fast though, Alastair didn’t know if they could stay ahead of it and soon enough he felt something yank Thomas away, forcing him to let go of his hand.

Thomas had fallen onto the ground, the werewolf trailing around him, claws ready to attack. Alastair gripped his dagger firmly and turned back, running straight at the creature.

‘Alastair, get away from here!’ Thomas yelled.

Alastair plunged the dagger into the back of the wolf. The creature howled in pain, and Alastair pulled back his dagger before it turned around and hit him with its claw. Alastair fell over, and he felt warm blood on his shoulder. It wasn’t a deep cut, it couldn’t be, but he was bleeding. The wolf stalked towards him, careful as if to sense if he was still dangerous. It wasn’t dead. It didn’t seem too bothered by the injury Alastair had inflicted. Of course, werewolves were fast healers, only silver was a weakness. And cortana, of course, but he didn’t have the sword. His dagger wasn’t made out of silver.

He scrambled to his feet, dodging another attack from the wolf’s claws. Thomas was behind him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along. They ran, but they could only make few steps until the wolf crashed into him with its full body strenght behind it, causing both of them to fall over. Alastair held his dagger in front of him, desperate for some protection even if the dagger couldn’t hold the wolf away for long. As it slashed with its claw, Alastair struck too. He caught the paw with his dagger, severing it from the body. Warm blood gushed out, but only for a moment. The paw fell. When it hit the ground, Alastair could make out the rough shape of a pale human hand. The wound closed almost immediately, but the paw didn’t grow back. Even a fast healing werewolf couldn’t grow back severed limbs. Good to know.

The wolf came closer, giving him no room to get up or escape. He threw himself in front of Thomas in a hopeless attempt to keep him safe, to be a shield to him. He still held up his dagger. If he was lucky, he could cut off the other paw, but he didn’t think he would be able to behead the wolf with just this dagger.

Then it collapsed onto the ground, losing its body hair in the process and transforming into a naked human man.

‘Alastair!’

Behind where the wolf had been was Cordelia, cortana in her hand.

‘I was so worried!’ she yelled. ‘Where have you been?’

‘Layla,’ he said. ‘You killed the werewolf.’

Alastair scrambled up, and took Thomas’ hand to help him up too. He inspected the body, thankful it hadn’t collapsed on top of him. Cordelia had slashed through it, the head severed from the body. It was an average looking white man, maybe forty years old, with mousy hair. He had no idea for how long the man had been a wolf, there was no way to tell and the man was naked so he couldn’t date the clothing style either.

‘And just in time,’ Cordelia said. ‘You almost died.’

‘My dagger isn’t made of silver,’ Alastair said. ‘Only so much I could do. Thank you for saving us. Why are you here?’

He noticed Lucie was there too, standing behind Cordelia, clutching one of his daggers. Under normal circumstances, he would be very angry someone had touched his daggers without his permission but considering a werewolf had just tried to kill him and Thomas, he was tolerant. He’d probably be more upset if Lucie had come here unarmed. When they returned home, he should give Lucie another dagger. This one was the first he’d received as a gift, too precious to him and he didn’t want to get blood on it.

‘We came looking for you, of course,’ Cordelia said and Alastair had the sense she was angry with him. ‘You were gone for so long, we figured even you couldn’t stay in the woods for the whole day.’

Alastair frowned. ‘A whole day? What time is it?’

‘We left around four in the afternoon,’ Cordelia said.

‘Four? No, that’s not possible. We left quite early. ’

‘We left around eight,’ Thomas added. ‘There’s no way we’ve been gone for over eight hours when you arrived here.’

He took a picture of the dead human with his phone. Alastair wasn’t so sure that was a good idea but he figured they could have that discussion later, and he could always delete the pictures.

Right now, all Alastair wanted was some bandages on his shoulder, a couple of painkillers and a hot bath. Or maybe a bath would only hurt his shoulders more, in which case he guessed curling up on the couch in a blanket would do.

They took the same route back, Alastair looking around to take in as many details as possible. He could go over them again later and compare the details of the walk today to previous days when nothing strange had happened. It was the same path they’d walked on before, but some things were still different. Alastair still didn’t quite understand why they’d found themselves someplace else today.

They made their way back to the Lightwood’s cottage to find both sets of parents there, looking at them in shock. Sophie looked like she’d been crying, and Alastair felt guilty. He liked Thomas’ mother, he didn’t want to make her cry.

‘Where have you been?’ Tessa asked, her voice stern.

‘Is that blood on cortana?’ Will added.

‘We realized Thomas and Alastair had been gone for a long time,’ Cordelia said, changing her sword back into her necklace. ‘We couldn’t reach them, so we went looking. Just in time, because they were attacked by a werewolf.’

‘It didn’t feel that long to me or Thomas,’ Alastair added. ‘One hour, two maybe. We did find something strange, ruins in the middle of the woods we haven’t encountered before. I took some pictures, but we can go over the memory as well if the pictures aren’t clear.’

‘Later,’ Gideon determined. ‘The four of you look terrible. Is anyone hurt?’

‘The werewolf did claw open my shoulder,’ Alastair said. ‘I don’t think it’s deep, but might need to be cleaned and bandaged.’

‘Come, I’ll take a look,’ Tessa said.

He followed Tessa back to the manor. It was a bit far, but Alastair could still walk and he guessed Tessa had more first aid supplies at the manor.

‘I don’t think it’s bad,’ he said. ‘I feel it, but I can still move my shoulder.’

‘I’ll need to see it before I can make any judgements,’ Tessa said.

They entered the house and Alastair sat down on the couch while Tessa gathered some supplies.

‘Please take off your shirt,’ she said.

Alastair did, wincing in pain. Tessa inspected the injury. ‘It’s been a while since I did this. But I used to work in the emergency room as a doctor before I turned to research.’

Alastair vaguely knew Tessa had a PhD in medical research, but wasn’t sure which field. He didn’t know she’d worked as a doctor before that, although he guessed it made sense she’d started out there before turning to research.

‘You’re right that the wounds are very superficial, but with a wild animal attack I would recommend a rabies shot,’ Tessa said.

‘Right now?’ Alastair asked, very unmotivated to go to a hospital.

‘Not necessarily, but don’t wait too long,’ Tessa said. ‘If you don’t, and you get rabies, you’ll die. I’ll put on some bandages and let you rest.’

When Tessa was finished bandaging the wound, Thomas entered. His brown hair was a little damp and he’d changed into a clean green shirt and blue jeans. He looked worried. Alastair tried to sit up. He was suddenly very aware that he was half naked, his shirt discarded somewhere. It had blood on it, and a hole where the wolf’s claw had carved through it. He should probably throw it away, which was a shame because he liked that shirt. Thomas was staring at him, Alastair could tell. Would he like what he saw?

‘Are you alright?’ Thomas asked.

‘I’m better now, the wound is thoroughly cleaned and covered. Tessa didn’t think stitches would be a good idea considering the infection risk,’ Alastair said.

Thomas sat down next to him, his cheeks a little red. ‘I was so scared today.’

‘I know. Me too.’

‘You threw yourself in front of me.’

‘I wanted to protect you. I had a weapon, you didn’t.’

Thomas put his hand on Alastair’s. ‘You could have died. You had every opportunity to get away while it was focused on me.’

Alastair shook his head. ‘It would have caught up to me. We both would have died if Cordelia hadn’t shown up when she did. I can’t believe our luck.’

‘Can I hug you?’ Thomas asked.

A bit reluctant, Alastair consented. Thomas pulled him into a hug. It was an unfamiliar sensation to Alastair, Thomas warm hands on his back, careful not to touch his injury, feeling him so close, feeling his rough breathing. Thomas’ hair was damp, he smelt of vanilla. He must have taken a quick shower before coming here. Alastair leaned in, his head against Thomas’ chest. Thomas was warm, and it felt nice to be held like this. He felt safe and protected, and for Alastair a sense of safety was scarce to come by.

‘I was scared of dying,’ Thomas said. ‘But watching you die would be far worse.’

‘Don’t be dramatic, Tom,’ Alastair scoffed. ‘You barely know me.’

‘That’s not true. I’ve gotten to know you a lot in the past week, and I have much enjoyed our time together. And I realized… I… I love you.’

Thomas let go of him, as if to await his reaction. Alastair was tempted to put a shirt on, very aware of Thomas’ eyes on him. At the same time, he liked the attention, hoped Thomas would think he was beautiful even if Alastair had never felt that way. A bit uncomfortable and cold, Alastair instead grabbed the blanket on the couch and wrapped it around him as he tried to process the shock of Thomas’ words and find a proper reply. He suspected the blanket belonged to Lucie, it was decorated with Lilo and Stitch.

He knew he should say something, but he couldn’t find the words. Part of him believed he’d hallucinated what Thomas had just said, because it couldn’t be true, could it? Why would Thomas love him? What was there to love?

‘I’m sorry,’ Thomas said.

‘What for?’

‘You obviously don’t feel the same way, and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you with my feelings.’

Alastair looked at Thomas, trying to read his face. Was he serious right now?

‘I do feel the same way, you fool,’ Alastair said, staring at Thomas in disbelief.

Thomas seemed to freeze in the moment, hazel eyes wide, his mouth slightly opened. Before either of them could say anything, Tessa returned with several medicine boxes.

‘Here are some painkillers,’ she said.

‘Thank you,’ Alastair said, taking two paracetamol. If that wasn’t enough, he could always add some ibuprofen.

‘Gideon and Sophie are on their way here to cook, you must be starving,’ Tessa said. ‘Alastair, be careful with that shoulder, give it some rest.’

Tessa returned to the kitchen, presumably to start preparing. Alastair realized he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and apparently it was now on the late end for dinner. It felt odd, since Alastair was fairly certain he hadn’t been gone for a whole day. It felt more like lunch time.

‘You look adorable with that blanket,’ Thomas said with a small smile.

‘I’m cold,’ Alastair said.

‘I’m not judging,’ Thomas said.

‘You were,’ Alastair said.

Thomas said nothing.

‘Come on, you definitely were.’

‘Can’t you just accept that you’re cute?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair made a show of rolling his eyes. ‘Alright.’

‘Can I kiss you?’

‘What?’

‘You said you liked me too. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for some time. So I figured I’d ask.’

‘I expected you’d just initiate. Asking is nice though. Keep doing that, I like it.’

Charles had never asked permission for anything. Charles usually initiated, he had been the one to decide what would happen and had assumed Alastair was fine with whatever he had in mind. And Alastair had pushed himself to accept things he wasn’t comfortable with too, terrified to disappoint. Terrified he would be abandoned if he didn’t do whatever his lover wanted.

He could not have anticipated how amazing it would feel to have Thomas ask him for permission to kiss him.

Thomas didn’t say anything else, just leaned in and closed his eyes, allowing their lips to meet. Alastair suspected Thomas didn’t really know what he was doing, but that was alright. He took control of the kiss, grabbing the front of Thomas shirt with his good hand. Thomas put his hands in his hair, gently tugging at the strands. It usually annoyed him when people messed with his hair, but right now it was a tangled mess anyway, and he had to admit it felt kind of nice.

They broke apart, faces still close, and looking into each other’s eyes. Thomas’ hazel eyes seemed like a mixture of colors this close and Alastair could see the light reflect in them. He felt a desire for more, but wanted to take it slow. This wouldn’t be like Charles, no rushed or pressured decisions. It would be gentle and sweet and they would have all the time in the world.

He leaned back, and pulled Thomas along with him, Alastair laying down on the couch on his back, the blanket slipping from his shoulders. He didn’t mind now, he allowed Thomas to admire him. Thomas looked a bit awkward, trying to find a comfortable position without crushing him. Alastair would probably be able to take Thomas’ weight, he liked being underneath a lover, just the right amount of pressure on his body to feel comfortable.

Although maybe not now with his shoulder injured, that was just going to hurt a lot.

‘Tom, your parents could be here any minute,’ Alastair said.

Thomas only shrugged. ‘Kissing a boy in front of them saves me having to write a speech. And I really don’t want to stop kissing you.’

‘Are you sure?’ Alastair asked. ‘You don’t want to give a speech?’

‘I’m sure,’ Thomas said. ‘I just want to kiss you.’

Alastair had nothing to say against that, and kissed Thomas again, gently opening his mouth and slipping his tongue inside. If someone had walked in, he probably wouldn’t even have noticed, too caught up in the moment. Thomas’ mouth tasted of strawberries, he must have eaten some before coming here.

After Charles, Alastair had never imagined another chance at love, and certainly not with someone as kind and beautiful and perfect as Thomas Lightwood. Part of him was still convinced he was too difficult to be loved. He pushed all thoughts of something bad happening to Thomas to the back of his mind and indulged in the moment. When they broke apart, they just sat lay, breathing carefully. Thomas’ hand in his hair again, wrapping strands of it around his finger.

After a moment Alastair decided with his injured shoulder, this wasn’t the most comfortable position for either of them, so he sat back up, climbing into Thomas’ lap, arms around him.

‘You’re a good kisser,’ Thomas said.

‘You will be too, with some practice,’ Alastair said. ‘Was that your first kiss?’

‘It was,’ Thomas said. ‘I’ve never been with anyone before. But I’ve also never felt about anyone like I felt about you.’

Alastair frowned. ‘Really?’

‘Really,’ Thomas confirmed. ‘I don’t fall in love easily. I’ve felt attracted to other boys at times, but I rarely really fall in love. When I do, it doesn’t really go away though. I’ve loved you since we went to school together.’

‘Since school? But I was awful to you back then. I’d done nothing to deserve it.’

‘You don’t always love the people who deserve it,’ Thomas said. ‘Back then, it was more of a schoolboy crush really. You were so mysterious and beautiful, yet I saw you were sad too. I could tell you didn’t mean what you said, I could tell you were in pain and I wanted to know what broke your heart, what let such bitterness spill out. And then I heard about you from Lucie, when you went to school with her. Although I still didn’t understand you, she confirmed you weren’t awful at all since you stood up for her and I felt like I was right, there was something special about you. And now this past week, I feel like I’ve finally seen the real you. And I don’t just mean that sadness, I mean your interests, your love for books and long walks. How you can rant for hours about the evil of capitalism and how passionate you are about wanting change. So my feelings have changed over time, but it’s always been you I wanted.’

Alastair found it difficult to believe, but he could tell Thomas was sincere. It was difficult to believe anyone could love him, he guessed. He still felt too broken to be loved, undeserving of it. He wanted to believe Thomas though, he wanted to make this work. He wanted to silence the voice in his head that it was impossible, that Thomas couldn’t possibly love him, because who could love someone like him? The voice was wrong, and Thomas gentle touch allowed him to push it to the back of his mind for now. Perhaps someday it would disappear for good.

[ao3komorii]

Behind the Blade’s Shadow (Talon/Reader)

Starting posting my league stories! I have 3 atm but plan on writing more, but wanted to post my Talon one first. May have taken some liberties with his personality since there’s not a lot of lore material available for Talon but I’m happy with how it came out. As well, just a warning that there is smut at the end of this one!

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Noxus was a place of power, a place where the strong rise up and carve their own paths, dooming the weak to cower in their shadows. Power is achieved in many ways, and the powerful always had a place in Noxus, provided that they were willing to defend themselves from those wanting to take them down and take their place.

You learned the realities of Noxus from an early age. Your parents were as ambitious as they came, both rising up in the ranks through their own strength and cunning. By the time you had been born, they had formed an alliance with General Du Couteau, securing themselves high ranking positions in the Noxian army. Their power was unquestioned, and the final piece of their empire was complete when you were born.

You were to be their successor; that expectation had been made clear to you since you were old enough to talk. You were their legacy, and every single thing you did would reflect back on them. You were to be a warrior, a leader worthy of carrying on the family legacy of strength and power.

It had always been a burden that you didn’t want to bear. It all started when your powers manifested; magic was seen as a great asset in Noxian society, a weapon that could be used to gain an advantage on the competition. But as soon as your parents’ excitement rose, it was snuffed out. Your magic could be mistaken by nobody in Noxus for power. The light blue glow that you channeled in your hands could heal wounds, but could not cause them.

Healers in Noxus did not bring prestige upon themselves. Warriors, leaders, mages… they could carve their own paths. Healers were used, but they served from the shadows. They were not to be seen, and were not worthy of the respect and admiration of the masses. Before you could begin to feel any curiosity and pride in your powers, you were instructed by your parents to hide your abilities. They would not be the parents of a lowly healer, that much was made clear to you at the age of eight.

There was so much pressure put on you that it became hard to take. Between combat lessons and lectures from your father about the qualities of a proper Noxian, you had no time to be like the other young girls you saw walk by outside from the view at your window. Your only free time in the day was when your parents finally decided that your wounds from practice were severe enough to end early, and you were sent to your room to heal your own wounds. They knew that you still used your powers, but it seemed to be a comfort to them that you did it hidden away in your room, away from the judging eyes of Noxian society.

When you turned ten, your parents added stealth training to your lessons, as assassins were becoming a larger presence in the ranks of the Noxian military. These were the only lessons that you looked forward to; your teacher was incredibly harsh and ruthless, but you put immediate use to your new stealth prowess by sneaking out of your house at night. What started as an attempt to test your skills turned into almost weekly trips into the city to satisfy your curiosities about the world outside the fortress that was your home.

The nighttime streets of Noxus posed little danger to you. There were always shady things going on, but nobody had any care for one lone child as long as you stayed out of their business. You were careful to be back before your parents noticed you were gone, as you had come to fear their ire more than anything.

What little pocket money you were given was spent on a small bakery that made sweet buns that your parents would never let you have otherwise. You knew they would be unhappy to hear that you were deviating from their plan for you, even a small infraction like sweet buns would likely earn you a verbal lashing or a day without food. Noxian tough love at its finest.

Your training that day had been especially hard; you were fairly certain that your teacher had broken some part of your arm, and those always took you forever to heal and left you feeling exhausted. If there were any day you needed a sweet bun, it was today. You waited only a few minutes after your parents left for a meeting to sneak out of your window. You normally would be more patient, but you wanted your sweet bun immediately. Your parents’ meetings with other Noxian officials usually ran for several hours, so you would have plenty of time to get to the bakery and back with them being none the wiser.

The streets were as busy as usual; Noxus came alive at night with activity. You had made this trip so many times that you could almost do it with your eyes closed. The small bakery was no more than a twenty minute walk from your house, ten if you ran the whole way there. You didn’t see many familiar faces on the way, but that was usual for Noxus. Not a lot of people who came out to play at night liked to openly flaunt their faces to the public while conducting shady dealings.

There was never a long line at the bakery, and today was no exception. The small, unassuming store never saw much late night traffic, which worked out for you as the owner would often give you an extra sweet bun as they would otherwise go bad overnight.

You greeted the owner meekly. As nice as she was, she was still a pureblood Noxian, built intimidatingly despite her profession. You were never sure if she liked you or not, because her face remained stony even as you watched her add two extra sweet buns to the bag before handing it to you. You smiled despite your nervousness; an extra two sweet buns was something to be excited about in your world right now.

The whole encounter had only taken a few minutes at most, and you were confident that you would make it home with plenty of time and have enough sweet buns for the next few days. You were so busy counting the buns that you were caught off guard by a brash laugh ringing out near you. You nearly dropped the bag of buns as you hurriedly backed up into an alley and peeked out to see your combat trainer walking along with several other men.

You couldn’t let him see you. There was no way that he wouldn’t report you to your parents if he caught you sneaking out. You waited for him to walk by the alley you were hiding in so you could run home, but as if fate was taunting you, him and his buddies came to a stop just beside where you were hiding.

Your brain went into panic mode. You had been doing well with your stealth lessons, but you had never managed to beat your trainer in combat. His battle instincts were hardened over time, and there was no way that you could sneak past him when he was mere feet from you. You would have to find another way home.

You didn’t give it another thought, slowly backing farther into the alleyway, your eyes on your teacher, terrified that he would suddenly notice you. But he was caught up with his companions, and your fears were unfounded. As soon as you got to the end of the alleyway, you turned and ran in whatever direction you felt might get you to your home.

The alleyways were all connected, and you found yourself in a maze of grungy walls. You didn’t know where you were or when you would find yourself on the streets again. You only felt like you could breathe when the next turn finally brought you out in the open air again. But with that came the realization that you were definitely lost. This was bad.

You felt tears prick at your eyes immediately. You had never been caught sneaking out before, but you knew your parents would not be forgiving. You stumbled forward, wiping your tears on your sleeve as you looked at your surroundings.

The area was barren; thick, grey stone walls of nearby buildings caged the area in. Your eyes were immediately drawn to a small bridge, one that had not seen water beneath it in a long time, as the soil beneath it looked thirsty and cracked. With how much trouble you had gone to in order to accidentally stumble upon this place, you had to assume that its location was lost to most, hidden by the swirling alleyways.

Clearly some people still found their way here, you assumed, as you noticed some blood on the ground that looked still somewhat fresh. You took another look around, but didn’t see anyone, so you felt that it was safe to proceed.

You were going to walk around the bridge until you noticed a glint of silver from beneath the bridge that drew your curiosity. You changed course, climbing down from the small ledge that separated the two sides connected by the bridge, taking a few steps forward only to fall on your back in shock as a figure rushed at you, their gleaming silver knife just missing the flesh of your chest.

You gasped in fear, holding the bag of sweet buns to your chest as your attacker emerged from the shadows of under the bridge. You were confused… he was just a boy. A boy no older than you were. He had shaggy brown hair, and was wearing a ragged-looking pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt that was torn and stained red on one sleeve, droplets of red falling from the fabric to the floor as he stared you down, knife still raised high. His eyes were both angry and afraid, and you found yourself more concerned for him than you were afraid of him.

He made no further movements toward you, which gave you a little more time to look at him. He was dirty, like he had slept outdoors for a month or longer. And his exposed arm not only gave you a look at the deep cut along his forearm, but also at how thin it was. What had you stumbled upon?

“Hey…” He flinched at the sound of your voice. “Do you want me to heal that?”

He looked wary and confused, but not like he would hurt you, so you stood up slowly, dusting yourself off. You took a step towards him, and he took one back in return. “Wait, please! I have healing magic and your arm looks like it really hurts!”

He glared at you, his brown eyes full of suspicion, but he didn’t move, staying still as a statue as you walked over to him and took his injured arm and held it gently. You could feel his eyes on you as you placed your paper bag on the floor, his eyes tracking your every movement. You gently ran a hand just above his wound, and watched as the blue glow swirled from your fingertips and began to mend his flesh, leaving not even a scratch behind when you were done.

“You…” he whispered, staring at his arm in awe.

You grinned sheepishly. “I’ve never healed someone else before.”

He put down his knife at last as he lifted his arm up to his face to look at it the second that you released your hold on him. He almost seemed to forget that you were there, and you reached down to pick up your bag of sweets. The crinkling of the paper bag drew his attention from his arm, and you had a brief mental war with yourself; you had been looking forward to the buns, but he was so thin, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that he was hungry.

With a bit of selfish reluctance that you pushed down, you held the bag out to him. He looked a little confused, so you reached into the bag and pulled out a bun. “I got some sweet buns… they’re really good!”

You held it out to him, plastering a grin on your face to try and seem less scary. It was such a silly thought; he’s the one with a knife and here you were trying not to scare him off. As a last attempt, you ripped a small piece from the bun and popped it in your mouth. You had really missed these, and if he didn’t want them, you would eat them yourself!

He snatched the bag so fast that you almost dropped it. You watched as he took a bun out of the bag and bit into it, devouring the whole thing in a matter of seconds. You giggled as you watched him eagerly eat a second bun as well.

You realized that you didn’t know his name, and readily introduced yourself, asking for his name in return. He stared at you, eyes flickering to the paper bag as he mumbled his reply.

“…Talon.”

“Nice to meet you, Talon!” you replied with a grin.

Your focus was then drawn to the skyline, the sun almost fully vanished from the sky. You had to get home before it was too late, but you still didn’t know the way. Maybe your new friend would know?

“Hey, Talon?” you asked. “Do you know how to get back to the main streets? I’m kinda lost and I have to get home before my parents get back.”

You could have sworn he looked a little sad as he nodded. “This way.”

He carefully set the bag of buns under the bridge, where you also saw a few trinkets and a threadbare blanket. You didn’t want to make him sad, so you didn’t bring up his dreary living arrangements, instead choosing to follow him over past the other side of the bridge and through a very narrow alleyway, barely wide enough for you to fit through.

It was a short walk, but the alley was too thin for most adults to get through, so you could see why the spot with the bridge was so isolated and empty. It had probably been built long ago, before all the other buildings had been here to close it off from the world’s notice. Gradually, more and more light began to filter into the dim alley path until you arrived on a street you were surprised to discover that you found to be familiar.

“I can get home from here!” you announced happily, and Talon only nodded in response.

He brushed past you, and you felt sad at the imminent loss of his company. You had no friends; the only kids your age you were ever around were your parents’ friends’ children, and all they cared about was showing off their combat prowess by giving you more bruises than you could count.

You grabbed Talon’s sleeve without thinking about what you wanted to say, which resulted in a short moment of silence. “Can I come see you again?”

He looked at you for a moment before turning his face away. “Do whatever you want.”

“Okay, then I’ll come and see you again soon!” you promised.

You were going to take his answer for a yes, and waved goodbye to him before dashing back onto the streets, keeping a careful eye out for your trainer as you hurried home.

Your heart was racing in your ears as you crawled back through your window, terrified that your parents had noticed your absence or your trainer had seen you. But as you sat on your bed for the next few hours with only your thoughts as company, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Not that night, or the next day. You were hyper observant of the behavior of everyone around you, but noticed nothing unusual at all. After a few days, you were finally confident enough to say that you had not been caught.

As soon as your paranoia faded, curiosity took its place. You had never had a friend before, and the fact that he was a secret friend that your parents didn’t know about just made you more excited to see him again. You excitedly counted down the days until your parents would attend another meeting. You had so little to look forward to as of late, and the mysterious boy was just what you needed. A friend that wouldn’t judge you, or report your failings back to your parents. Part of you knew that you didn’t know Talon very well yet and he may end up being a jerk, but the bigger part of you was too excited to have a real friend to think of much else.

You began to visit Talon every chance you got. Your parents had been having lots of meetings lately, and you took every opportunity to go see your new friend. At first he seemed surprised to see you again, like he thought that you wouldn’t make good on your promise. He still didn’t talk much, but you did enough talking for the both of you, telling him about your life and your parents as he silently listened and ate the sweet buns that you always brought him. He never told you much about his life, but eventually he admitted that he didn’t have any parents, which you had suspected. You wondered about him, but didn’t want to make him feel bad, so you never pried. He would often have new cuts or scratches, which you happily healed for him. It felt good to be able to use your powers to help someone, even though your parents had forbidden it. You and Talon were secret friends, and nothing would keep you from seeing him.

In hindsight, you had been overconfident. You were stupid to think that a ten-year-old girl could keep such a big secret from parents that happened to be high ranking Noxian officials. You had been in your own little bubble for the few months that you had been seeing Talon for that you began to get sloppy covering your tracks. Your parents had noticed a shift in your personality, and unbeknownst to you had instructed your stealth teacher to follow you when you were alone.

You had seen Talon as usual before heading home, not knowing that it would be your last visit to your friend. You felt your blood freeze in your veins as you crawled into your window as you always did… only to find your parents standing in your room. The stern glares on their faces told you that something was wrong, and your stealth teacher entering the room sent you to your knees with fear as the assassin calmly gave your parents a report of all that you had done when you were out.

Your parents listened quietly, and your father’s solemn nod made you think that things might not be as bad as you thought until he opened his mouth. “Kill the boy.”

“No!” you wailed. “Don’t hurt him, please!”

“We cannot have you believing that associating with street orphans is acceptable behavior,” your mother added. “Not for a future general of Noxus like yourself.”

Scared tears ran down your cheeks as you pleaded desperately for Talon’s life. “I won’t see him again! Please don’t kill him! I’ll stay here and I won’t leave again!”

Your parents regarded you coldly, and you watched as a smug smile slowly grew on your mother’s face. “See that you don’t. That street urchin is a distraction, and you must have no distractions if you want to succeed.”

You were almost too scared to breathe. Did that mean that they wouldn’t have Talon killed? Even if it meant that you couldn’t see him anymore, you had to save him.

Your father sneered at you. “Stop snivelling. I will spare the boy, provided you do what you must for the future of Noxus. You must learn now to keep to your word or I will be forced to undertake measures to ensure that you do.”

You were so relieved that Talon would be okay that you didn’t think about what your father had meant until the next day when you came back to your room after sparring to find bars on your windows. Your door began to be locked whenever you were in it. You were truly a prisoner in your own home.

Your life became training and sleeping; every little kindness or happiness you had before was stripped away the moment you had been caught. At first, you wept for your lost friend, wondering how he was doing and if he missed you as much as you missed him. You had gone so long without friends, and to have the only one that you ever had ripped away from you took from you the last bit of fight that you possessed. You would be a good little possession and never disobey your parents again, although it wasn’t as if you had any choice in the matter now. Your life had always been in their hands and it was either obey or perish.

As the years went by, you stopped crying for Talon, as it had been so long that your time with him was a fading memory. You sometimes wondered what happened to him, but those times became few and far between. When you had reached adulthood, your parents finally eased some restrictions on you, but by then they had already broken you with years of harsh restrictions. You had no desire to leave your room, even if the door was unlocked.

The main difference now that you were no a longer a child was the political lectures really ramping up. You were forced to memorize names and faces of both ally and enemy to your parents. They would bring you along to lesser important functions and you were expected to have a response ready for anyone who conversed with you. You would be happy to stay home, but now that you were a picture of the perfect Noxian lady, your mother insisted on showing all of their hard work off.

You were starting to get restless with your sudden debut into Noxian social circles; it was painfully obvious to you that you had never socialized with anyone who hadn’t been paid by your parents. You were proper and knowledgeable, but never made any real connections. You didn’t know what to say to the people your age that truly enjoyed engaging in brutal violence for the sake of Noxus, and you certainly didn’t care to talk about which enemy of Noxus had been assassinated that week.

It was at your mother’s insistence that you finally reinstated the previously forbidden walks you had taken as a child, as your despondency to the world had long affected you at social functions you were dragged to. You supposed it would be impossible for her to do anything solely for your own benefit, but you had agreed after she had insisted that you would not be trailed on these walks. So there you were, at the age of twenty-four, taking your first walk alone outside in fourteen years.

You had been places with your parents, but you didn’t stop to enjoy the scenery, so it was a new experience for you. The city had changed and evolved since you had been kept indoors. Now that you had your own agency for the short time your mother had allotted for you to walk around, you found your feet taking you to that same alleyway you had gone through to see Talon so long ago. You knew you were being dumb, there was no way he was still there waiting for you. You had no idea if he was even still alive, the Noxian streets being as they were. But something inside you insisted that you had to see for yourself, but the alley was too thin for you to get through now that you were an adult.

The small alley may have stopped a less capable person, but you had nothing in your life to focus on but training, so scaling a building was nothing for you now. You knew there were people around you, but you would be up and over the building before any of them could stop you and question you on what you were doing.

You nimbly ran along the rooftop before scaling down the side of it to land right in front of the old bridge. You almost felt like you were ten years old again, coming to meet your friend. But that was so long ago, and hope had left you that day. You were simply here to satisfy your unrelenting curiosity, chasing after some closure.

You approached the bridge, some small part of you expecting to see the boy sitting there. But there was nobody and nothing. Not even Talon’s old dusty blanket. No sign that he had ever been here, although you knew that you hadn’t imagined him. You sat down where he used to be, losing yourself in your only recorded happy memories for a few minutes until you decided it was time to leave. Your mother would be expecting you, and there was nothing more for you here.

You began to notice a pattern with when you were being sent out on walks. Whenever you would come back, you would cross paths with associates of your parents who were just leaving. Without fail, your parents always seemed to have company over while you were gone.

Your parents had never hid their work away from you so obviously before, and had been bringing you with them to their strategic meetings before this pattern had started. So what had changed? What were they doing that they were trying to hide from you?

You knew it must be nothing good; your parents were endlessly ambitious, and this time, their plan must be something big. Something they couldn’t risk even their daughter knowing about. You were curious, but more than that, you began to worry. Were your parents getting in over their heads? They were tough, but they weren’t invulnerable.

You had to know what they were getting themselves into. But you knew that they would never tell you if you asked. You tried to brainstorm ideas as you walked around town the next time you had been sent out at your mother’s urging, but nothing was coming to mind. You did everything they asked of you, so why couldn’t they trust you with whatever they were planning?

The streets were too loud, and it was proving to be too much of a distraction for you to concentrate on your own thoughts. You decided to divert your path at the next alleyway, heading down the dingy path once you determined it to be vacant. Almost immediately, you noticed a change in the volume of the world around you; the raised voices and noises of society dulled the farther down the back alley you walked.

Even being in total silence did nothing for your current dilemma. What could you do to discover the truth without your parents finding out? Wracking your brain for ideas only ended up giving you the familiar tinges of pain that you knew would turn into a headache if you didn’t give yourself a break from thinking yourself to death.

You came to an abrupt stop as you noticed a figure slumped against a wall just ahead of you. Cursing yourself internally for not paying attention to your surroundings, you weighed your options. You could turn around and go right back where you had come from; one glance at the person told you that they didn’t even seem to have noticed you yet. They were likely a drunk or a vagrant, and you knew that your years of training meant that if you wanted to escape from them, then they wouldn’t be able to stop you.

But another part of you felt compelled by your mother’s lectures on pride. You shouldn’t be afraid to walk by one drunk passed out in an alleyway. You needed to hold your head up high and show this person that you were not a coward, nor someone to be messed with. You felt embarrassed when you realized you had gotten in your own head again, and a distinctly male groan from the person just ahead of you spurned your feet into action.

You would just walk right on past him, like it was no big deal. But you couldn’t help but scrutinize him as you got closer. You couldn’t see his face, as he wore a long blue hooded cape, the hood hanging down over his eyes. You were surprised to see the cape split into tails that were tipped with sharp blades, as well as the large blade strapped to his wrist and forearm. You knew then that the man wasn’t just a drunk in an alleyway, but the time it took to make that observation cost you dearly.

You took too long to realize the danger he truly posed, as before you could blink, you cried out as you were pushed against the wall behind you, the man’s blade at your neck.

“So eager to die,” a deep voice growled as you stared down at his blade, knowing that he only had to press it a little more into your neck to end your life.

Now that he was right in your face, and much taller than you, the hood did much less to obscure his face from your view. He was handsome, something that may have flustered you if you weren’t in mortal peril. His dark brown hair hung just above his eyes and was cut to his collar. His face was angular, his expression set in haughty intimidation, but something about his face called an almost-lost memory to the surface.

“Talon…” you spoke before you could think.

You were too preoccupied with the past. Now this man would think you were a basket case, and you didn’t think that would improve your chances of surviving this encounter. But you were surprised to see that man stumble back from you with a surprised huff. What had happened? Was there some new threat you would have to worry about on top of the assassin in front of you? Unless… could you dare to hope?

“…are you really Talon?” you asked softly, advancing on the man.

“My name is not your concern,” he growled back at you, and then you noticed the blood.

How had you missed it? There was a large tear in the front of his shirt, which revealed both lean stomach muscles as well as a horrible wound that was gushing blood. No wonder he had been slumped over like a drunk; it was a miracle that he could stand at all with a wound that bad. Just as fast as he had advanced on you, he was now trying to flee using whatever endurance he had left. But you knew that without treatment, he wouldn’t be able to make it very far. And whatever had happened to him, whatever he had become since you had last seen him, you weren’t willing to lose him so soon after you had found him again.

“Please don’t run!” you pleaded, hastily telling him your name in hopes that he would remember you. “You’re really hurt! Let me help you!”

He tried to back up further down the alleyway, but since he was injured, you were faster than he was now. He put his blade up to resist, but then his arm dropped by his side as he felt your healing magic connect with his deep wound. He stared into your eyes with an expression that you couldn’t read as his wound healed rapidly before your eyes, and then he was left with a bare patch of torso that showed no signs of injury at all. Before he could even begin to calculate a next move, you lunged at him, wrapping your arms tightly around him, his surprised grunt echoing in the empty alleyway.

“I didn’t think I would see you again!” you cried, allowing him to push you gently back and create some distance between the two of you.

He was careful not to hurt you, but his eyes were not the same shy boy you had known before. His expression was dark, clouded with the years of pain that you couldn’t even begin to decipher.

“Don’t get any closer to me. I’m not the weak child I once was,” he snarled, and the anger in his voice shattered what hope was still in your heart that maybe he had missed you too.

“Talon, please–” you began, inching closer to him, desperate to not lose him again.

He stared at you for a short moment, his gaze unwaveringly cold, before he turned and scaled the tall wall of the alley in the blink of an eye, and then he was gone.

You could have tried to follow him, but his rejection stung you fiercely. The only person in your life who you ever had a genuine connection with, and it turned out that he didn’t care at all. It had been so long, you told yourself, and he had grown up. He had no obligation to a girl he knew when he was ten, a girl he probably thought had abandoned him. He didn’t have to care about you and you knew that you shouldn’t have put those expectations in your head. Clearly the time you had spent together as children was only precious to you.

You were too stunned to cry as you turned and ran all the way home. Your abrupt entrance startled your parents, who had still been in a meeting with their associates, a bunch of documents spread out in front of them on the table. You rushed past them and to your room before your mother could yell at you, burying your face in your pillow as the tears finally came.

You were so stupid. That was the single thought that coursed through your mind that night and the entire next day. You had trouble focussing on anything else, and had paid the price in training when your teacher had almost dislocated your shoulder. You tried not to be upset, but giving up your secret hope that maybe Talon had been thinking about you all those years too was more than you could take right now. You needed a distraction.

Luckily for you, your parents were finally attending a meeting that wasn’t at your house that night. You had been curious about those papers they had in front of them, which would undoubtedly be kept in their study now. And with your father’s insistence that you stay behind and work on improving your earlier failures in combat, you had the perfect cover to do some snooping around. You bid them farewell with a smile you hoped didn’t look too eager for them to leave. They were none the wiser, and left the home at last, leaving you alone with your plan.

Their study was locked, which didn’t surprise you. But you had been trained in picking locks, even expensive and complicated locks such as this one. You just had to be patient and find the trick to this ones. Your steady hands paid off as you finally heard the click of the lock disengaging after several minutes of picking it.

You carefully hung the lock on the inside of the door as you stepped into the room. You had never been in here before, but it was certainly less exciting than the grand study you had imagined when you had pictured it in your head before. There were two large desks, as well as a simple table with a large map strewn across it. The most daunting part of the room was the sheer amount of papers laid across both desks and even spilling onto the floor.

You were confused; you had never known your parents to be anything but tidy and orderly, almost to a militant level. This level of disorder was so unusual that it was setting off your already frazzled nerves. You felt a deep sense of foreboding settle in your stomach as you bent down to pick up the papers that had fallen onto the floor.

Looking over the papers in your hands, you only had more questions instead of answers. You were looking at a list of meeting dates, as well as the names of those who attended the meetings, some of which you recognized as people you had been introduced to before. The names were generally the same under every meeting, but you couldn’t make any sense of what your parents needed the lists for.

You discarded the papers on the table, choosing instead to look over the map that was spread out over most of the table’s surface. It was an ordinary map of the city, but it had been dotted with arrows and a large circle drawn around the Noxian war command building in the center of the city. Was there something happening there? Could Noxus possibly be starting another war?

Feeling even more worried, you began to rifle through the papers on the desks, paying no mind as to how you would put everything back in its place when you were done. You were desperate for information, but the first few papers you looked at gave you no new insights. A breakdown of the defence budget, a summons for a meeting; you discarded papers left and right, looking for anything that stood out. Just as you were ready to toss a particularly wordy paper to the side, the name at the top of the page caught your eye.

General Du Couteau.

Reading over the document, you discovered that it was a report on the general’s daily activities. Why would your parents need this? It didn’t seem to be provided by the general himself, which meant that your parents had someone following the general’s movements and reporting them back. A quick glance at the bottom of the list told you that it extended to today, and the last note made your blood run cold.

Du Couteau will be in place at the war command building. Assassination will take no more than ten minutes.

The note was written in your father’s handwriting, unlike the foreign scrawl of the rest of the document. You couldn’t breathe; your parents planned to assassinate General Du Couteau, the leader of the Noxian army. Suddenly the scribbles on the map made sense. They had been plotting this for who knows how long, and it seemed like tonight was when they executed their plan.

You forced yourself to move, to sift through the remaining documents as fast as you could; you needed to know why they were doing this. Killing the head of the Noxian army was treason of the highest order; you knew that your parents were overly ambitious, but you never thought that they would plot to kill one of Noxus’ most high-ranking officials simply for their own gain. But the more documents you read, the more it became clear. Your parents were unsatisfied with their positions, deeply jealous of perceived favoritism from others towards Du Couteau, and were ready to do something about it. Tonight.

You had to stop them. This time their greed had brought them to a place where they might not be able to come back from, and you couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. The assassination was happening potentially any minute now, and you had to get to them before they made a choice they couldn’t take back.

You threw the papers back on the desk and turned around to sprint out of the room. You didn’t stop to change or grab any weapons, leaving the house and running towards the war command building in a pair of flimsy shoes and the short-sleeved black shirt and pants that you always trained in. Your feet were hurting, and you were sure that people were staring at you as you passed, but you couldn’t afford to pay any of that any mind.

As you got to the building, you could tell that something was already wrong. You had passed by here sometimes on your walks, and the place was always heavily guarded. But right now, you could see no guards, nobody outside the large building at all. It worked well for you now since you could pass through the gate and approach the heavy doors without any difficulty, but you knew that it was a bad sign for whatever was happening inside right now.

You pushed open the door and nearly fell, skidding to a stop by grasping onto the wall. Looking down, you realized what you had slipped in. The entryway was a bloody mess, and your shoes were now sticky and wet with the blood that ran from the corpses of several guards that lay on the floor.

You now understood what had happened to the guards outside, and the brutality was almost too much for you to bear. Throats ripped open, bones and organs visible, eyes still open, reflecting the shock and pain of their final moments. It was horrible, but you knew that they were too far gone for you to possibly save. You could not bring back the dead.

Things that you could not undo had already happened, and you knew that you had to move on. If you didn’t get to your parents soon, Noxus would lose its most valued general, and the entire country would be sent into a civil war. You steadied your feet, carefully stepping around the blood that flooded the floors and running farther into the building.

You encountered more guards the farther in you went, but they were all dead, just like the others. Whatever had happened here, the responsible parties had already moved on. As you got deeper into the building, you began to follow your ears. You could hear the sounds of a commotion, which gave you hope that you weren’t too late. You finally had a door in sight, and sprinted down the hallway to reach it as fast as possible.

Just as you were getting within reach of the door handle, a scream from within the room stilled your hand. The scream rang out with pain, but you recognized the sound of your mother’s voice anywhere. You forced your hand to move, throwing the door open and rushing inside.

You were too late, that much was clear to you. But not for the reason that you had thought.

It was a bloodbath. Bodies littered the floor, their blood covering the ground in a layer of red. You didn’t see Du Couteau anywhere, but you did see your mother as she fell to the ground, and you immediately recognized the deadly redhead behind her as she collected her knife from where it had been embedded in your mother’s back.

Your mother laid still on the ground, and made no movements or sounds. Your eyes were then drawn to the body that lay next to her… your father. They were both clearly dead. Even without looking at them, you knew that the deadly Katarina Du Couteau didn’t leave targets alive.

Now that you saw her here, you knew. It had all been a farce. General Du Couteau wasn’t here, and it was obvious that he had seen through your parents’ plan and sent his own assassins in to deal with the traitors. Your parents and their cohorts had never stood a chance.

You couldn’t help a gasp at watching your mother die before your eyes, a sound which you regretted the moment it brought Katarina’s attention to you. She twirled a dagger in her hand, the same dagger she had just killed your mother with, sending you a smirk that promised you that you were next.

Before you could blink, she had disappeared, and you were barely able to roll forward to avoid being stabbed in the back with her dagger. She slashed forward with a cry, and you scrambled to your feet to avoid the blow. Since she had appeared behind you, she had cut off your exit. There was very little chance of you getting past her and back out the door. You didn’t see any other living people in this room, which meant that she had singlehandedly executed everyone in here by herself. You knew immediately that this would likely be your tomb as well.

She was so fast, and it was all you could do to keep just ahead of her blades. But your dodging would not save you forever, and she was very obviously backing you into a corner. But you had no weapons, so you had no way to fight back and prevent her from caging you in. You were paralyzed with fear as your back hit the wall; you hadn’t even realized that you were that close to the wall to begin with.

Katarina’s dark laughter sent a shiver down your spine, and you could only watch as she raised her dagger, sauntering slowly over to you as she knew she had you trapped, and there was no need for her to rush. You couldn’t look at her anymore; if she was going to kill you, you just wanted it to be over with. You couldn’t make peace with this awful situation, but you could stand your ground here and not cry. You closed your eyes, breathing in and out as you waited for the impact of her dagger.

You heard her sneer, and braced yourself as best you could, until you heard Katarina let out a disgruntled cry as well as the clang of steel meeting steel. You obviously weren’t dead, so you opened your eyes to see why.

You could barely even see Katarina over the tall figure that stood between you and her. From how you had last parted, you didn’t think Talon wanted anything to do with you, but here he was, blocking Katarina’s dagger with his own blade. You didn’t know why he was here, but you were grateful for his help.

“You want to handle her yourself, Talon?” she asked him, and you felt numb as you realized that they were clearly on the same side. Why was he standing in the way right now then? Did he truly wish to kill you himself?

“Katarina…” Talon growled, and she rolled her eyes in response, sheathing her daggers.

She shrugged her shoulders in a manner that was too casual for being in a room full of people she had just killed. “Suit yourself. I’ve had enough of a workout today anyways.”

You both watched her go, and Talon didn’t turn around until she had left the room.

“Why are you here?”

The question startled you, and the anger in his voice made it hard for you to look at him. “My parents… I followed them here. They…”

He didn’t answer, and you finally looked at him. “Talon… you work for Du Couteau?”

He looked like he wanted to snarl at you again, but your saddened expression made him reconsider his answer. “…yes.”

The carnage around you devastated you, and as much as you wanted to grab onto Talon to remain afloat, he had shown no signs of warmth towards you. You couldn’t read him at all, and were scared to voice the thoughts in your head, scared to ask him if he was going to kill you in Katarina’s stead.

Talon turned away from you again, and you felt compelled to call out to him. “Wait!”

“Go home,” he replied sternly, and you got the impression that he was trying to put a wall between the two of you with his words. “You don’t need to get involved with me.”

“Talon!”

He didn’t reply, turning invisible before your eyes. You had no way to chase someone who was invisible, so you were forced to let him go. You just wished he would tell you why he was so desperate to pull as far away from you as he could.

You knew that you couldn’t stay in this room that smelled so strongly of blood that it was making you feel ill. You kept your eyes on the door, trying desperately not to look at the bodies of the dead, especially your parents. You should feel devastated at the loss of your parents, but you just felt sad. You had never held any great love for them, only respected them out of fear, and the notion that you would no longer be bound to their goals for you gave you a sense of freedom that you had never felt before.

They had aimed their ambitions too high, and the cost had been too great to bear. From what you knew of General Du Couteau, he was not a forgiving man. His ruthlessness and cunning had brought much to Noxus, but it also reflected back on his own people. Noxus stamps out the weak, and your parents were no exception. Their lust for power had made them an easy target for Du Couteau to flex his own power. You didn’t know what you would do now, but you couldn’t stay here. Especially if anyone decided to come back to make sure the job was done.

The way home was a blur. The moment you got home, you realized that you couldn’t recall the walk back at all. The house was silent, which somehow felt more oppressive than when your parents were here. You trudged back to your room, the blood on your shoes and pants leaving droplets behind you as you walked.

You tore your shoes and pants off before grabbing a cloth to scrub at the semi-dried blood on your calves and feet. You couldn’t recall when you had eaten last, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to have any desire to eat. All of your recent stress was collapsing upon you, and you laid down on your bed as you felt all of your energy leave you. You would worry about all of this tomorrow, because you couldn’t keep yourself conscious any longer.

You felt resolved the next morning; you knew what you wanted to do. You would try to talk to Talon one last time. You wanted him to tell you directly he hated you, that he wanted nothing to do with you, something. He had been sending you so many mixed signals that you wanted a straight answer for once. You would be hurt to hear him tell you that he didn’t care for you at all, but then you would know. Then you could stop deluding yourself and clinging to a fruitless hope.

Now that you knew he worked for Du Couteau, you had an idea of where you could find him. The Du Couteau estate was huge, and likely housed many members of the general’s faction, and you were hoping that included Talon. You had to give it one last try. Whatever happened today, your life in Noxus was over.

You knew that it would not be long before the news spread of your parents’ failed attempt on the general’s life, and as their kin, you knew a target would be on your head. You had maybe a full day at the most to grab what you could and flee Noxus before the general’s loyalists stormed your home to claim your head as a prize to present to the general.

You knew that to go to the Du Couteau compound was essentially walking into a den of hungry wolves, but getting one last chance to talk to Talon was worth it to you. You just hoped that it wouldn’t cost you your life.

You bathed and changed into something more presentable before you began to set aside everything you would need to leave this place behind forever. If you had as little time as you thought you did, it would help to have your things ready to grab and go as soon as you returned. You packed lightly for the short trip to the Du Couteau estate, bringing along a single dagger for protection but hoping that you wouldn’t need to use it.

You tried to calm yourself down during the walk over, but you couldn’t help feeling like you were walking to your own execution. You had no idea what would happen when you got there, but you intended to stick to your decision. You wanted to see Talon one last time, if only to say goodbye.

You approached the estate to find two burly guards talking amongst themselves, both garbed in Noxian military uniforms. They didn’t look approachable by any stretch of the imagination, but you didn’t have anything to lose. If they told you to leave, you likely wouldn’t be able to push it.

You forced yourself to at least put on a façade of confidence as you approached the men. You could tell that they were appraising you as you came obviously within their notice, assumedly assessing whether or not you were a threat. You hoped that you looked innocent enough, despite the dagger that you had hidden on your person.

“What’re ya here for?” one of the men asked as he stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at you.

Your mouth felt dry as you realized that you hadn’t really planned what you would say to them. You couldn’t just come out of the gate and say you were here to see an assassin who may or may not live here.

You were taking too long to answer, and the other man raised a hand to rest it on the hilt of the sword at his waist in a threatening manner. “If you don’t have business with the general, I will ask you only once to leave.”

“She has business with me,” a sultry voice rang out as a hand was placed on your shoulder from behind.

You looked back quickly to see Katarina Du Couteau standing behind you, brushing a loose strand of crimson hair out of her face with the hand that wasn’t on your shoulder. She didn’t return your startled glance, staring ahead at the guards with her eyebrow raised impatiently, lips curled downwards in a frown.

The guards’ posture became rigid immediately, and they almost tripped over themselves to open the gate for you. Katarina brushed past you and walked toward the gate, turning back and gesturing for you to follow her when she noticed that you were still frozen in place. You were just making all sorts of dangerous decisions today, but she didn’t seem to be posing a threat to you at the moment, so you followed her onto the grounds of the estate.

She didn’t head into the large building, instead leading you into a small garden at the side of the estate. You didn’t see anyone around, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Katarina was a hard woman to read, and you were still trying to wrap your head around why she had helped you out with the guards in the first place.

“I really should kill you,” she said as she examined her nails, before her eyes snapped up to meet yours with a smirk on her lips. “But lucky for you, I’m enjoying seeing a little crack in Talon’s armor at last.”

“What do you mean?” you asked carefully, not wanting to provoke her into putting her initial statement into action.

“Don’t bother pretending,” she laughed. “I know Talon, and he doesn’t stick his neck out for anybody. But he protected you, and I want to know why.”

Her voice was light and conversational, a complete departure from yesterday when she had come at you with everything she had. You didn’t have to explain things to her, but her words gave you hope that maybe she would have some insight into why Talon was acting the way he was. And so you told her your story, probably more than you needed to, but it felt good to let someone in on your secrets. She listened with a thoughtful look on her face, and didn’t interrupt once, even as you described what you found in your parents’ office, and what had led up to you rushing to the war command hall the previous night.

“So he had a childhood sweetheart,” Katarina replied at last, looking smug.

“Um, I don’t think we were…” you trailed off, feeling yourself get flustered.

“That’s not what he thinks,” she refuted smoothly. “I have never seen him protect anyone weaker than him without being ordered to by my father.”

You flinched slightly at being called weak to your face, but Katarina didn’t seem to mean it as an insult, just a fact. It was the Noxian way to be brutally honest, and you couldn’t deny her assertion anyways. Even with all your training, you were a long ways off from the likes of her and Talon.

You were about to reply, but closed your mouth when you heard her click her tongue. You quickly noticed that it wasn’t directed at you; she was looking at a spot over your shoulder, and you turned your head back to see a man exiting the estate through the front doors.

“You should probably leave now,” she muttered lowly. “That’s one of my father’s advisors. He can never mind his own business.”

She began to walk back towards the gate, and you hastened to match her pace. If she didn’t like the guy, and she was on the same side as him, then you didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

As you approached the gate, Katarina signalled for the guards to let you through.

“I’ll tell Talon you came by,” she told you, sounding pleased with herself.

“Okay,” you told her, feeling unable to tell her of your immediate plans to leave Noxus as soon as you left here. As you waved goodbye to her and began your journey home, you decided that you would be willing to wait the rest of the day to see if you could see Talon. You could only hope that Katarina would be able to convince him to see you.

You weren’t sure what you had expected to happen, but having girl talk with Katarina Du Couteau was definitely not something you had expected. You took the time on your walk home to mull over her words. Talon was important to you; he had kept you company as a lonely child and protected you as an adult. But Katarina’s words had awoken something that you were embarrassed that you hadn’t even considered. All this time you had been telling yourself that you wanted to seek Talon out because he represented a happy moment to you as a child. But when you thought of him now, you saw his handsome profile in your mind, and felt the residual tingles on your skin that you felt whenever you heard his voice.

You were so in your head that your body was on autopilot, pushing open the door to your house and failing to notice that the door wasn’t locked. You only broke out of your thoughts when the door to the living room was closed right after you entered… but not by you.

You realized immediately that you were surrounded. A large man garbed in black stood behind you, blocking the door and forcing you to move towards the center of the room to get away from him. There was really nowhere for you to run, as there were at least fifteen men scattered around the room. They all seemed to defer to one man who stood facing you, his shoulders squared confidently. Looking around, you didn’t recognize a single one of them. You didn’t think Du Couteau would send his men after you so soon, but here you were. Though the men looked a little rougher than what you would expect of those who served under the general, so you weren’t sure what to make of the situation other than it was not good for you.

The leader stepped forward, and you were unnerved by the way his eyes roved over your body in a way that made you feel entirely too exposed. You wanted to back away from him, but with his lackey right behind you, that wasn’t an option either.

The leader grinned at your panic. “I’m here to honor our deal.”

“Deal?” you retorted. “I don’t even know you!”

“That ain’t my problem,” he replied dismissively. “We made a deal with your parents. We give ‘em the men and supplies, and they give us their precious daughter.”

“My parents are dead!” you said angrily, shocked and infuriated by your parents’ actions. “What they promised has nothing to do with me!”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong,” he said, and you watched warily as the men around him began to slowly come towards you in an effort to fully cage you in. “I lost a lot of men in that plan of theirs. You got a lot of work to do for this exchange to have been worth my time.”

He wasn’t even listening to you, or he just didn’t care. And his lecherous gaze was sending unpleasant chills along your skin. Looking around, you saw very little ways out of this. Why couldn’t they have waited one more day, when you would have been long gone? Your only advantage would be that you knew your house better than they did.

You couldn’t fight them, not as outnumbered as you were. But you might have a chance to outrun them. Your parents had made this house their fortress, as it had very few weaknesses, but that also meant that there were very few escape routes for you. The men were still advancing slowly on you, and you hoped that you could use the element of surprise to get away from them. There was a small gap between two of the men that led to the stairs up, and you knew there was a window at the end of the long hallway. If you could get out of that window, you could use your speed to get away from them and out of the city. You would have to play this smart.

If you waited a second longer, you would lose your opportunity, so you dashed at the gap with everything you had. They clearly weren’t expecting that, and you were easily able to run to the stairs to a chorus of shouts from the group of men behind you. You heard the leader scream at his men to follow you, and then the air exploded with the sounds of many footsteps following you. But you knew that you were fast, so you continued running as fast as you could. The window was within your sight, and you couldn’t look back now. This was your only option for escape.

You clearly hadn’t thought things through fully as you stumbled with a scream as pain burst in your leg. You turned back to face your pursuers in shock, which was all the time they needed to shoot you again, this time the bullet impacted your chest, just above your heart, and the pain winded you. They were still pretty far behind you, but you couldn’t make it out of the window now, not as injured as you were. The pain was so intense that you could barely think, and you were running out of options.

You had one last option, you realized, as you noticed that you were right next to your parents’ safe room. It wasn’t an escape, but the lock on the room was incredibly tough to crack unless you knew the combination. The men continued to shoot at you, but you were able to punch the passcode in with shaking fingers and crack the door open just enough for you to slip in, the door shutting tightly behind you.

You fell to the floor immediately, the pain raging intensely. You cursed yourself for not noticing that they had guns. You were so close to escaping, and you had botched it. Your consciousness was fuzzy at best, and you knew that you didn’t have the concentration required to call upon your powers to heal yourself, not when it was all you could do to remain conscious. You heard the sounds of gunfire against the door, and the yelling and swearing of the men just outside the room, but it all faded to nothing as you watched blood run from your leg as you began to feel your consciousness drift farther away.

It had been an easy mission. For a trained assassin, his target had been sloppy. He was nothing but weaknesses, his defences so thin that Talon felt like he was felling an injured animal. The targets that were a challenge were always more satisfying, and this one had been a disappointment, both to Talon and likely to whoever had trained him in his mediocre skills.

Talon was silent as he returned to the Du Couteau estate. He didn’t often conduct assassinations in the daytime, usually preferring the cover of night, but he obeyed his orders. General Du Couteau was not a patient or forgiving man, and his orders were absolute. It was the life that Talon had lived for so long that he was used to it. But you were different; you didn’t choose the life of a ruthless assassin, and he had to keep you away from his world.

He never thought that he would see you again. When you had stopped coming to meet him at the bridge, he didn’t know what to think. Eventually, he had accepted that he was on his own and would stay that way. At least until he was defeated by Du Couteau and then joined his ranks.

The only things he knew about you were the bits and pieces that he remembered you telling him when you were children. You had been a brief ray of light in the pitch black of his world. Just like back then, you had healed him without asking for anything in return, which he had never experienced from anyone else in his life.

You were as pure of a soul as they came in Noxus, and Talon had never worked a legitimate job in his life. He had grown up on the streets, thieving and killing when he had to in order to survive. He couldn’t involve you in the danger he faced on a regular basis, and he had pushed you away at every turn to ensure that you stayed away. But he couldn’t figure out why you continued trying to get close to him. Even when he had admitted to being involved with Katarina, who had killed your parents, you had tried to reach out to him. And he had run like a coward.

Every time he thought about you, he felt frustrated. Why were you trying so hard to get close to him after all he had done? He wanted you as far away from this world as possible, even if it meant that you would be far from him as well. He would suppress the part of him from childhood that wanted to let you in and do what he had to do to keep you safe.

As usual, the guards opened the gates for Talon as soon as they saw him. He had a reputation, and both parties preferred if they didn’t have to interact. Not many people went out of their way to talk to him, not when he was one of the three most talented blademasters in the Du Couteau house, and certainly the least friendly.

His plan to head directly to his room was thwarted immediately by one of the few people who did talk to him, despite how little he cared to make casual conversation. Katarina stood just inside the gate, arms crossed and gaze locked on him as if she had been waiting for him to arrive, which was unusual for her unless her father had asked her to pass information on to him. The likelihood of receiving information from the general by way of his daughter was the sole reason his feet stopped in front of her.

She looked pleased with herself, and Talon knew that was a bad sign, especially when she opened her mouth. “Your girl was just here.”

Talon glared at her. Katarina didn’t need to say your name; they both knew who she was talking about. Talon was both impressed and irritated with your courage; coming directly to enemy territory to try and see him was a very dangerous decision. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would take to get you to understand that he wasn’t a good man, and certainly wasn’t worth all the danger he would add to your life just by being in it.

“You should go see her,” Katarina pressed. “She’ll never understand if you just keep acting like a jerk. If you’re not into her, then you’re leading her on by treating her like this.”

“This doesn’t concern you,” he snarled back, the anger clear in his voice. Why was she trying to get so involved in his personal life?

“It concerns her,” Katarina replied back. “What if she comes back here again, Talon? You were lucky I was here. Anyone else would have killed your little girlfriend on the spot.”

Sparks flew in the air between the two assassins. Katarina was grating on his nerves with her nosiness and refusal to back down. Talon was angry, but as little as he wanted to entertain this nonsense right now, at the back of his mind, he had to admit that she was right. He couldn’t let you keep trying to come to find him here. He needed to give you one last shove to keep you away from him. He felt his mood souring, but before he or Katarina could say anything further, their attention was drawn to a commotion at the front gate.

Talon and Katarina both turned to look as the gate opened and one of the house’s messengers rushed in. It was unusual to see the messengers be in such a rush, as there weren’t many emergencies occurring due to the general’s overprepared nature. The messenger was headed to the estate, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the two assassins staring right at him.

He bowed hastily, and Katarina rolled her eyes, prompting him to just spill his news instead of wasting further time. “I was sent to observe the traitors’ house for any movements.”

“…and?” Katarina implored him impatiently.

The man nodded his head too many times; it wasn’t unusual for people to be nervous in Katarina’s presence, but as soon as Talon had heard that it was related to your parents, he was ready to cut the man’s tongue out if he didn’t get on with it.

“There were suspicious movements by a group thought to be allied with the traitors. They broke the lock and entered the home just before the traitor’s daughter returned home. I suspected that they were regrouping their forces to plot against us again, but then I heard gunshots and a woman’s screams, so it seems they’ve turned on each other,” the man reported.

Talon’s ire turned to alarm as he heard the report. You had nothing to do with your parents’ treachery, so that could only mean that one of their disgruntled allies had decided to come after you for their failures. He didn’t have a complete idea of your combat abilities, but he doubted they would be enough for you to take out a group of armed men.

He didn’t spare a moment, immediately running at the estate’s wall and leaping over it, jumping from building to building as he rushed to get to your home as fast as possible. Talon hadn’t felt desperation like this in a long time; he always ensured that situations were under his control, but the thought of you in mortal peril had spurned his feet faster than his mind could keep up with. Here he had been trying not to involve you in his dangerous world, and yet danger had found you anyways. He felt no pity for the men that would soon die by his blade; he could almost feel the steel pulsing with hunger for their blood for even daring to be near you. He could only hope that he wouldn’t arrive too late.

Meanwhile, Katarina watched Talon disappear before turning to the flustered messenger without batting an eye. “No need to report this to my father. I’ll see him myself after we handle this.”

The messenger looked relieved to not have to report to the general himself, but that wasn’t Katarina’s concern. It would be much more convenient for Talon for her father to not hear information related to you. As the man left, Katarina smiled to herself; who did Talon think he was fooling with his uncaring façade? Him rushing immediately to your aid told her more about his true feelings than any of his words had.

But in her brief conversation with you, Katarina had found that she liked you. It was certainly more than dreary around here with all the serious men her father surrounded himself with, and she personally wouldn’t mind having you around again, especially if she got to see Talon acting all lovesick. Talon would likely need help if he wanted to rescue you quickly, so Katarina left the estate as well, following right behind her agitated fellow assassin.

She caught up to him just in time to watch him surveying the scene from the building next to your house. They could both see a group of well-muscled goons patrolling the first floor, but no sign of you.

“Do you think they killed her?” Katarina asked.

Talon’s worry wasn’t strong enough to overpower his battle sense. These men wouldn’t stay at the house if they had accomplished their goal already, which meant that you were likely still somewhere in the house. Talon didn’t need to say his thoughts out loud as Katarina could see the same thing he could.

“I’ll take care of the ones on the first floor,” Katarina asserted, and then they were off.

They both jumped in through an open window, and Katarina stopped to face the group of men. “Hope you boys are ready to dance.”

As Katarina jumped towards them, daggers at the ready, Talon used the distraction to turn invisible and run past them and to the upper level of the house. The sounds of the fighting going on downstairs began to fade, and Talon’s invisibility wore off as he emerged at the start of a long hallway. He didn’t see you anywhere, but zeroed in on several men beating against a door at the end of the hallway.

“Shoot it down if you have to!” one of the men screamed, his face red with fury. “That bitch can’t hide forever!”

“She won’t last long either way with those bullets we got in her!” another man replied with a loud laugh.

Talon didn’t wait a second longer after hearing the men’s words. He moved silently down the hallway, and the men were none the wiser until the sharp end of his blade met the flesh of the leader’s neck, and with one smooth movement, the man’s head had been removed and rolled a few feet down the hall before he could even scream. Blood spurted from his neck as his body fell to the floor, both of his companions screaming when they saw what the furious assassin had done to their boss.

They raised their guns to shoot at Talon, but he was faster, leaping through the men in an instant, the blades on his cape dicing their flesh at the same time he cleaved their heads off their necks to join their leader’s on the floor. Talon didn’t like to be messy, but he needed them dead as fast as possible, and no matter who these lowlifes were, there was no way for them to come back from decapitation.

But if what they had said was true, you didn’t have time to wait. He would have to get to you immediately.

You had been in and out of consciousness, half-feeling like you could hear your mother’s voice telling you to get up, but then realizing that the voice was just a hallucination that your delirious brain had created. By now, your blood had run down your clothes and pooled under you. You knew that you couldn’t lose much more, but that mattered less to you when you knew that you had no power to help yourself. At least you would die on your own terms, far enough from those men that you could die in peace, even if you were in horrendous pain.

You didn’t know how long you had been in the safe room for when the screaming started. You thought it was in your head at first, but the noises continued for a few seconds until it stopped and everything went quiet. You couldn’t heard the men’s voices or them pounding on the door. It seemed impossible to think that they had given up, but even if they did, you couldn’t stand up with your injuries. You were as good as dead.

You felt another wave of intense fatigue hit you just as you heard a new sound from outside the room… a shout of your name. You were willing to write it off until your name was called again, followed by a sound of something impacting the door. The voice sounded so familiar and comforting to you, but you couldn’t place why. It took one more shout of your name to finally put the pieces together in your fuzzy brain.

“Talon!” you cried out, surprised at how rough your voice sounded.

There was a short pause on the other side of the door. “Open the door!”

“I can’t…” you replied sadly. “I can barely–”

You were cut off by another wave of drowsiness, barely able to keep yourself awake this time, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Give me the code!” Talon growled back, sounding desperate.

How was he even here? You still felt like this was a cruel dream. Couldn’t you just die without your brain giving you false hope that you would see Talon one last time?

“The code!” he shouted, his words finally knocking enough sense into you that you were able to focus on listing the numbers to him.

As soon as you did, the door began to open. But you didn’t have the strength to keep your eyes open any longer, and you collapsed fully to the ground, your neck and the back of your head now laying in your own blood. You felt your head be lifted and placed in someone’s lap, gentle fingers brushing your hair from your face.

You forced your eyes to open and saw Talon’s face above you, his clothing stained with blood that didn’t seem to be his. His eyes were focussed on your face, and he stared at you with a gentleness in his eyes that you had never seen before. His mood notably picked up the moment he noticed you looking up at him.

“You need to heal yourself,” he told you sternly.

You shook your head weakly in response. “Can’t…. I can’t focus…”

Your eyes drifted closed again as you felt your body become more and more numb. You couldn’t hold on any longer. At least you had Talon here with you at the end…

Your eyes shot open with a short gasp against his lips as Talon kissed you. You felt like you had been electrocuted by the shock as his lips pressed harder against your own before pulling away at last.

“You’re awake now, aren’t you?” he pressed. “Heal yourself.”

“Talon, you–”

He ignored you. “Heal yourself!” he demanded, and your brain followed the command at last, calling to the power you didn’t think you could use right now.

You watched as the blue glow that you thought was out of your reach grew in your hand. You lacked the strength, so Talon grabbed your hand, bringing it to your chest and watching closely as the bullet was pushed out as your body repaired itself. When he was satisfied that your chest looked much better, he carefully bent you so your hand could reach your leg wound as well, your magic ejecting the other bullet from your skin as well.

The immediate alleviation of pain came as a huge relief, but you realized that using your powers while you were in such a state was beyond anything that your body could cope with. Before you could even warn Talon, you felt your limbs go slack and your head droop, unconsciousness taking you before you knew if Talon had caught you or not.

Katarina pocketed her daggers, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she sauntered upstairs after Talon. Those guys had been all muscle and no skill; she would almost have felt bad if she were a better person. But they were in the way, so they died. They were allied against her father anyways, so there was a likely chance she had just crossed an item off of her to-do list a little early.

Katarina encountered no one until she reached a long hallway, and it was immediately clear that Talon had been here. There were small pools of blood that led to three men, or what was left of them. Their heads had been sliced clean off of their necks and had rolled to various parts of the hallway. Katarina paid them no mind; the sight was no shock to a person like her. Once she got to the bodies, she noticed a door that was slid halfway open that caught her attention.

Walking silently up to the partially-open door, she was able to clearly see Talon kneeling on the floor with your body in his arms. Katarina placed a hand on the door, slowly opening it so she wouldn’t startle him as she entered the room.

“Is she dead?” Katarina didn’t bother to mince words.

Talon looked over at her before carefully standing up with you in his arms. “No. She healed herself in time, but she passed out from blood loss.”

“So you’re bringing her back with us?” Katarina pressed, turning back to leave the room, already assured of his answer before he could say it.

Talon didn’t reply, but followed her into the hall. Katarina began to open doors in the hall, leaving Talon to stare at her, unimpressed that she was wasting time with whatever she was doing.

Katarina caught his stare and raised an eyebrow in return as she walked into one of the rooms. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re both drenched in blood. Unless you want her to wear bloody clothing forever?”

Talon watched Katarina walk over to the bed to look through a bag that was laying there. She rifled through the bag for a few seconds before closing it again and slinging it over her shoulder.

“Looks like your girl was already packed. Guess she was planning to skip town if you didn’t come see her,” Katarina surmised.

“Are you finished?” Talon replied coldly, walking past the room and towards the front door, Katarina easily catching up to him.

“I’ll take this to your room,” she said, gesturing with her chin to the bag she carried. “You might want to take the long way back unless you want people to think you’re walking around with a dead body.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, heading through the door and back to the estate on her own. She was right; there was no way he could scale buildings while carrying you. He stuck to alleyways and less populated areas to not bring more attention to your situation, but he felt relieved that he could see your chest rise and fall slowly as he walked. You had come so close to death that he thought he wouldn’t be able to save you. Having you here in his arms, alive, had calmed his restless soul. His lust for blood sated with the deaths of your attackers.

He had been putting so much effort into pushing you away that he had left you alone and vulnerable. He could only hope that you hadn’t lost too much blood before you had healed your wounds. You were pale, much more than was healthy, but there wasn’t much he could do other than take you somewhere safe and hope that you would wake up.

The walk back was eventless; the few people to cross Talon’s path quickly backed up and fast walked in whatever direction they had come from. He was used to that behavior already, given his intimidating stature and ever-present glower. But he was forced to admit that he did look like some sort of crazed murderer as he carried you in his arms, both of you soaked in blood and leaving a trail on the ground behind him as he walked.

It was early in the evening when he arrived back at the estate, the setting sun falling behind him. Katarina must have warned the guards that he was coming, because they had made themselves scarce. Talon adjusted your body against his shoulder as he pushed the gate open with his other arm.

He took the usual way to his room, heading to a side entrance. Not many people were allowed to be on Du Couteau property, let alone live within the walls of the towering estate, so there was not likely to be anyone in his path. Talon’s room was even more secluded, in a wing where no one else resided, so he always had plenty of space to himself. General Du Couteau put a lot of faith in him, and rewarded his loyalty and skilled service. But even if the rooms in Talon’s wing of the estate were available, his reputation kept people away for fear of angering him.

Talon scoffed at the notion; he would not simply strike someone down for being on estate grounds, not without an order from the general. But he preferred the solitude his area of the estate offered, so the paranoia was convenient for him, especially now as he carried you into his room.

Katarina was looking out of the window, but turned to look at him as he entered. “Took you long enough. You can put her down and then wait outside.”

Talon glared at her, not understanding what she meant, and she laughed. “She needs her clothes changed, so unless you were planning on stripping her yourself…?”

Katarina didn’t need to finish her sentence to know that Talon had at last gotten her drift. Whereas normally he would have argued with her, he walked over to gently lay you on the bed, turning and walking a few paces away and crossing his arms, but not leaving the room.

“Suit yourself,” Katarina scoffed at the overprotective assassin as she began to remove your bloody clothing.

Talon kept his back to the scene, knowing that Katarina was getting a little too much enjoyment out of this. He listened to the sound of his bed creaking, as well as the sounds as different articles of your clothing hitting the floor as Katarina discarded them. It took her a few minutes, but eventually she instructed Talon that he could turn back around.

When he turned back, you were laying on top of the bed in a soft gray dress. Katarina was wiping blood from your forehead with a cloth, your body noticeably less bloody as well. There was still traces of blood in your hair, but it was no longer caked on your skin like dirt. Seeing you looking much cleaner made Talon realize just what a state he was in as well. The scent of blood clung to him, but he was so used to the smell that he was able to easily tune it out.

“She’ll have to bathe to get the rest of the blood off, but I did what I could for now,” Katarina said, leaving the bloody cloth on a table by the bed and making her way to the door. Always eager for the last word, she looked back at Talon when she was halfway out of the door. “Nobody comes by here, so you two can be as loud as you want.”

Katarina left, knowing she wouldn’t get a response from him, heading into the hallway and towards her own area of the estate. Talon began to remove his own blood-stained clothing as his thoughts drifted. Katarina seemed more than willing to keep you a secret, but even if the general knew about you, Talon doubted he would care. As long as he accomplished his missions, the general did not pry into his sparse personal life, and if keeping you here with him was Talon’s price for his service, the general would have no choice but to agree.

Talon did not even entertain the thought of allowing you to go back to your home when you woke up. Without your parents to protect you with their influence, you were incredibly vulnerable to the dregs of Noxian society. Deep within him, Talon wasn’t quite ready to admit that the larger reason for his decision was backed by his desire to keep you by his side.

Talon had never had the desire to be close to someone in a way other than professional respect. General Du Couteau had been the only person to ever defeat him in combat, and so he had agreed to serve under him to learn and improve his own skills. He had moved up from being a skilled thief to become one of the three strongest members of the house of Du Couteau. His time in the service of the general had taken him all over Runeterra to assassinate enemies of the general, and he had never found his life to be lacking, not until he met you again after all your years apart.

Having you here made him want things he had never wanted before. He selfishly, possessively wanted you. His cold demeanor had temporarily held him back from being consumed by his desires, but now that you were here with him, now that there was nothing holding him back from being with you, his emotions threatened to consume him. And while he could assume what you felt, he hadn’t heard it from your own lips… yet.

All he could do was wait and hope that you would recover. He approached the bed, pulling the collar of your dress down to look at your wound. There was only the slightest cut in your skin, not even enough to bleed. Looking at the wound on your leg, he found that it was the same. Katarina had wiped away most of the blood from your injuries, and it was a relief to Talon to see you no longer drowning in your own blood.

He had done all that he could for you at the moment, and so he covered your body with a blanket before leaving his room to do some training. There was no guarantee when you would wake up, but he was reassured that you were somewhere he could keep an eye on you from. Those thugs had been an unfortunate happening, but he would do much worse to anyone that dared to attack you from now on. Very few had ever survived an encounter with the blade’s shadow, and he had no mercy for those who got in his way.

You saw your mother and father. Somewhere in your mind, you knew that shouldn’t be possible; they were dead. You began to wonder if this meant that you were dead as well. The last thing that you remembered was Talon finding you in the safe room… and kissing you.

Your parents didn’t say anything, just stared at you, their faces slowly changing from healthy to gray and dead. You backed away from them as their eye sockets bled black and they stared at you with blame in their eyes. You wanted to run, but found that you couldn’t move. Their deathly figures got closer and closer, and you flinched, closing your eyes as they were almost upon you, but instead finding yourself embraced from behind, a familiar scent engulfing you.

You heard your name being called by his voice, soft in your ear. Talon…

You still couldn’t move, but you wanted so badly to turn around and see him. To kiss him again. To be by his side.

He had shown more care for you in the short amount of time with you than your parents had in your entire life. You felt overwhelmed with desire to see his face, to be able to hold him back. But this wasn’t real, and the ghostly touch against you wasn’t him. You had to wake yourself up. You had to see Talon again.

You realized that your eyes were closed, and your head felt clear. You opened your eyes at last to see soft light filtering in through a window and no shadowy figures around you. You didn’t recognize the room you found yourself in, but considering you weren’t shackled to the bed, you had to be somewhere safe.

You sat up in the bed, which caused a damp cloth on your forehead to fall into your lap. You picked it up, staring at the simple navy blue fabric that reminded you so much of Talon. Was it too much to hope that it was him who had brought you here?

Running a hand through your messy hair, you were disgusted to find flecks of dried blood on your fingers. As you wiped the specks of blood off on the cloth, your full situation came back to you. You were surprised that you were even alive with how severe your wounds had been. You had been prepared to die in that room, a casualty to the ambitions of your parents.

The door to the room opened as you had pulled back the blanket to look at your injures. You looked over to see Talon pushing the door open, wearing more casual clothing than you had seen him in before. He wore a simple pair of black pants and a dark blue shirt which stretched over the muscles of his arms in a way that made you nervously avert your eyes.

Talon paid your sudden shyness no mind, walking over to your bedside as soon as he noticed you were awake. You weren’t sure where to look, so you settled for staring at your hands as they rested in your lap. You noticed a spot of dried blood on one palm that you had missed and began to scrape it off with a fingernail. You were probably too focused on the task, and only stopped when Talon put a hand over yours to move your hands apart.

You looked up at him at last, and he only removed his hand from yours when you met his eyes. You had been so desperate to see him, but having him be by your bedside like this was making it hard for you to function, especially with how casually he was dressed. He was so effortlessly handsome, and here you were all dirty, your hair matted with blood and skin clammy from sleeping off your injuries. The thought sent your gaze downwards again as you began to feel self-conscious.

“How long was I asleep for?” You cringed at how dry and raspy your voice sounded.

“A week,” Talon answered, reaching down to tilt your chin up to face him when you didn’t reply to him. “Are you still in pain?”

“No,” you replied at last, the closeness of his face driving your heart rate up, especially considering you now knew how long you had been asleep for. You must look pretty bad right now, and that wasn’t even touching on how you must smell at the moment.

“Can… can I have a bath?” you asked, your voice coming out as more of a squeak.

Chancing a look at Talon’s face, he didn’t seem to be annoyed with you. In fact, he looked more relaxed than you had ever seen him. At your words, his hand drifted from your chin to brush gently over your tangled hair, and you desperately fought against the urge to shy away from his hand. The moment only lasted a few seconds, and you found yourself missing his touch as soon as he brought his hand back to his side.

Talon nodded, turning back to pick something up as you eased your way out of the bed, your balance a little shaky as you stared at his back. Now that it wasn’t covered by his hood, you had a proper opportunity to admire his hair; it looked much too nice to belong to someone as deadly as he was, and your fingers itched to run through it like he had done to yours. But you didn’t know where you stood with him right now, and feared he might pull away from you if you tried.

Your focus was then put on a small basket that was handed to you. Looking at it, you found what looked like various soaps and bathing oils, which was not something you imagined that Talon would have had lying around.

You looked at him in surprise, and he caught your train of thought immediately, giving you a stony look. “Katarina prepared those for you.”

You couldn’t help a giggle. “Sorry. I couldn’t help but imagine you bathing in roses when I saw this stuff.”

His lips twitched up in a smirk. “I see your wounds didn’t affect your brain. What a shame.”

Your mouth dropped open. Was he teasing you? Talon, one of the most deadly men in Noxus, had just implied that you were dumb.

His eyes glimmered with playfulness for a moment before he turned away, not giving you a chance to reply. Not that you could even think of a reply; his sudden teasing had taken the wind right out of your sails. You hadn’t expected that from him, and he had taken full advantage of that fact.

He turned his head to look back at you, and you took that as your cue to follow after him. He led you out of the room and to a room a few doors down, which turned out to be a bathroom. Talon closed the door behind you, and you waited a few seconds before undressing, realizing that there was no point in listening for his receding footsteps as he had clearly trained himself to move silently.

You turned the tap on, the warm water feeling heavenly on your skin as you sat down in the bath. It was very clear to you how much you needed this bath; as soon as you began to wash yourself, the water grew dirty from the grime and blood that covered your skin and hair. By the time you were done, the water was tinted a light red, which you quickly set to drain. You really didn’t need any more reminders of how gross you had felt prior to the bath.

Putting your clothing back on, you almost felt like a new person. It was an especially big relief that you could finally stop worrying about smelling bad on top of everything else you had to worry about right now.

It was a relief to you when Talon finally went to do some training later on that day. It had taken you some time, but over the day, you had come to a realization; he was definitely flirting with you. You had been hesitant to believe it at first, but over the course of the day, you could no longer have any doubts.

It had started with him being closer than usual, which was already new for you given how hard he had tried to flee from you over the past while. But now he seemed to take every opportunity available to him to sit near you while sharpening his blades, or brush a hand over your skin while checking your injuries. At first it could have been a coincidence, but you caught the ghost of a smirk on his face too many times for it to be innocent, which led you to accept that he was being like this on purpose. But he hadn’t mentioned the kiss, or tried to kiss you again, no matter how amicable you would be to a repeat of that moment.

You felt like a timid alley cat being offered a piece of fish; you wanted the reward so badly, but were scared to open yourself up and be vulnerable enough to take what you wanted from him. His behavior seemed to give you the impression that he would be open to the idea, but it was hard to work up the nerve, and you were just about reaching your breaking point.

You basically had to insist that he go train for a bit, if only to give your cheeks a break, as there was only so much blushing you could take before you felt your cheeks would burn off. You knew that you couldn’t fool him; he knew exactly why you were so determined that he go do some training, but had gone along with your request. If only you could figure out what to do about the sudden tension before he returned.

You couldn’t think of anything. If you confessed to him outright and he just stared at you, you didn’t think you could take it. But at the same time, you had to get some closure. You couldn’t take any more of Talon’s flirty gestures without knowing what you meant to him, what the kiss had meant to him. In the hour he was gone, the only course of action you could settle on was just asking him why he had kissed you. Then at least you could get an insight into his feelings without putting yourself too far out there.

You rehearsed what you would say again and again in your head, and even a few times out loud. Just as you were beginning to feel like you could do this, the door opened and Talon came in, discarding a few blades of varying sizes on the table, and you almost physically felt your nerve break. You felt his eyes on you immediately, and your rehearsed words fled quickly from your mind. How did you ever think that you could do this?

You couldn’t even move an inch from your seat on the bed, almost too scared to breathe. You couldn’t even look at him, and neglected to recall just how good he was at moving silently until he was right before you, his hand on your shoulder drawing you back into reality.

“Have you finished healing your wounds?” he asked, removing his hand when he knew he had your attention.

You looked down at your chest, pulling your dress back to look at the wound. You had entirely forgotten about it, but allowed the familiar blue glow of your powers to light in your hand as you began to heal the last of your wounds. You had healed them most of the way before, but with one more dose of your magic, they were gone as if you had never been injured at all. As you felt your leg fully heal as well, you looked over to Talon, your focus drawn to a thin cut on his cheek that you had only noticed now that he was so close to you.

Without really thinking about it, you reached a hand up to his face, trailing your fingers in a line down his cheek along the scratch. He kept his eyes on you, putting up no resistance to your touch. As you moved your hand back and his cut fully healed, the intimacy of the gesture finally hit you and you retracted your hand as if you had been burned. Talon remained where he was, and the closeness sent a nervous shiver down your spine.

You tried to even your breathing, hoping that would help you bolster your nerves. You had to know. You would just repeat that to yourself until you could make your mouth move.

“Talon…” You used every bit of your willpower to get the words out. “Why did you kiss me?”

You heard an exhale of breath that sounded suspiciously like laughter from the assassin. “I didn’t recall you being this dumb when we were children.”

“What?” you replied incredulously with a frown. “I was being serious, Talon!”

“So was I,” he replied coyly. “I didn’t think that loud girl I knew would grow up to be so naïve.”

What was he even saying? He was clearly trying to say something, but you were having trouble reading past the insults.

“So you’re not going to answer my question?” you asked with thinly veiled frustration.

He leaned down, his arms on either side of you caging you in. You had nowhere to run unless you were forced to put up with his smug smirk as he leaned down towards you, getting close enough to kiss you but holding himself back just enough for your lips not to touch. You couldn’t help but let your eyes flit to his lips, wary of the look in his eyes when he caught you staring.

“If you were paying attention, you would have your answer already,” he said, voice low and more seductive than you had ever heard him sound.

It was taking all you had to keep your eyes on his, especially with how close his lips got to yours with every word he said. You would only have to move an inch and then you would be kissing him again. And with him this close, you couldn’t help but think that maybe he wanted this too. In all the time you had known him, you hadn’t known him to do or say things he didn’t mean. He had been teasing you mercilessly all day, and you just wanted to believe that this meant something to him.

“Can you… kiss me again?” you whispered, closing your eyes as you were too nervous to look at his face.

There was a few seconds of silence, and you opened your eyes to see what was happening just in time to see Talon’s face close in on you, his lips connecting with yours as he used his weight to press you down on the bed. You had been too surprised to resist, but you readily welcomed the contact, your fingers gripping at his shoulders as you closed your eyes.

His movements overwhelmed you; before you could even process it, his hand slid over your breasts, fingers closing around one as you tried to keep up with his tongue. You squirmed under him, moving a hand up to finally get a feel of his hair now that you were fairly certain that he wouldn’t mind. You were just wearing a simple dress and a pair of underwear, but the closeness was heating up your body in a way that only removing the suddenly-too-warm clothing from your skin would alleviate.

It was futile to try and predict his movements; you jerked back from the kiss with a moan of his name as he pressed his fingers against your clit, fingers that you hadn’t even realized that he had snuck under your dress. As his hand slipped in your underwear, he took advantage of your exposed throat, leaving heated kisses on your neck. You found yourself fleetingly curious about where he had picked this up, but the thought disappeared as he pulled back to nibble at your ear with his teeth.

He removed his hands from you, leaning his lower body against yours and supporting his weight with his hands. His lips were still at your ear as you felt the hard press of his cock against your lower half.

“You still don’t know why?” he probed, grinding slowly against you, the friction not even close to enough for you right now. “I tried to keep you away from the way I live, the people I kill. But you were more persistent than I thought.”

“Talon…” you whispered, wishing he would just press a little harder, but he stayed frustratingly light and slow with each roll of his hips into yours.

“You chased after me, so now you can’t complain about what I do to you,” he growled in your ear, his words making you shudder with anticipation.

His fingers crept back under your dress, and you spread your legs as much as you could with him still on top of you to give him room. You blushed as you realized just how wet you were as Talon’s attention moved from your clit to press a finger inside you with ease.

You cried out at the intrusion, pulling his face down to yours so you could feel his tongue against yours again. He seemed more than happy to kiss you breathless as he added another finger, reaching so deep within you that it was making you curl your toes until they began to hurt. You felt like you could barely keep up with the kiss anymore, but Talon’s focus did not waver.

The cotton of his shirt began to brush uncomfortably against you, and you tugged at it, unable to verbalize your request due to how thoroughly he was kissing you. The tugging got his attention and he pulled back at last, looking all too pleased with himself, ripping his shirt off with one hand while the other continued to pump in and out of your pussy. With him now on his knees on the bed, you finally got a look at what was pressing against you earlier.

Talon’s cock was straining noticeably against his trousers, and the sight made your tongue dart out to nervously run along your lower lip. Talon caught you staring easily, and his fingers began to curl inside you, the sensation making you flutter your eyes closed with a moan. Only when you felt a noticeable draft did you realize that he had taken advantage of your distracted state to slide your underwear off completely and discard them on the floor.

You were warm, way too warm, and Talon allowed you to push his fingers away from you so you could sit up as best you could and shimmy your dress up your body. You felt somewhat shy, but you were so overheated at the moment that you couldn’t keep your dress on any longer if you didn’t want to spontaneously combust. It also didn’t hurt to watch Talon’s eyes hungrily follow your movements, and when you noticed him about to dive back against you, you held up a hand, deciding to be cheeky.

“Not until you take off your pants,” you said, staring at him with a challenge in your eyes.

Talon’s eyes looked dark as he reached towards the clasp of his pants, knowing he had your attention fully captured. He didn’t leave you waiting, discarding his pants quickly and leaving him as bare as you were.

He leaned back down, your faces almost touching. “When we do this, you’ll be mine. Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly, and he took your legs in his hands, bringing them around his waist.

He needed no further convincing, and you felt the prod of his cock, which felt so much better without any layers of clothing in the way. You had no coherent words as he began to sink into you easily given you were so wet that he didn’t even need to go particularly slow. You arched your back with a gasp, your ears rewarded when Talon let out a quiet groan as he finally bottomed out.

Before you regained your composure, Talon was sliding out and rocking his hips back towards you, shattering what mental facilities you had left. You could do little more than grip at his arms and the bed sheets as you looked up at his dark eyes that were focussed on your own. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning at the feeling, especially when he brushed his thumb just right against your clit, the resulting surge of building pleasure almost overwhelming you.

As you got more and more vocal, you began to notice how responsive he was to every little noise you made. Every moan or cry seemed to make him thrust into you a little harder than usual, and you decided that you wanted to hear him too. He had been largely silent so far, and you wanted to know that he was as affected by this as you were.

You began to roll your hips to meet his, squeezing your inner muscles every time he rocked back into you. Immediately, you noticed a stutter in his breath, and after a few repeats on your part, his eyes narrowed on your face, and he began to slow his pace as he leaned down towards you, his teeth grazing your ear.

“You think you’re getting away with that?” he growled, sending pleasant chills along your skin with his words. “You really are naïve.”

He pulled back from your ear to kiss you deeply at the same time he began to move at a much harsher pace, every movement sending jolts through you and a flush to your face as he began to hit on just the right spot. He was so close to you that his chest pressed against your breasts, the added friction driving you crazy. His hair was finally close enough for you to tug on, the resulting groan he let out only spurning you on to be rougher in return. You were both desperately close, but Talon’s brutal pace did not slow one bit. You made a brief mental note to tease him about his stamina later.

Talon came first, pulling his mouth from yours to bite at your neck as he stilled for only a moment before continuing at a gentler rhythm, his fingers playing with your clit as he bit and sucked at your neck. You tightened your grip on him, your nails biting into his back as he carried you through the waves of pleasure until you fell back on the bed, feeling boneless. Talon was quick to follow, pulling out of you and wrapping an arm around you to keep you close to him.

You brought your hand back to brush some hair away from your face, brows furrowing in confusion when you noticed blood under your nails. It only took you a second to make the connection, and you sat up, quickly looking over Talon’s shoulder at his back.

“Your back– I’m sorry!” you hastily apologized, seeing the thin streaks of blood that dotted his back from your scratches.

You frantically ignited your hand with blue and healed the shallow cuts on his back. You had been so panicked that you only realized afterwards that your position leaning over his back had put your breasts right in his face. You made eye contact with his blank stare, and almost fell off the bed as you pulled away in a hurry, only saved by his strong grip on your arm.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his face impassive but eyes betraying his mirth.

“I didn’t mean to–” you started, but cut yourself off with a cry as Talon used his grip on your arm to pull you forward to press his lips against yours.

You allowed him to lay you back down next to him as you kissed. You were fully distracted when he pulled back with a smirk.

“Did you really think I’m repulsed by your breasts?” he asked, and you could only answer him with embarrassed stammering.

“Do you need me to prove that I’m not?” he murmured, palming your breasts with his hands, his thumbs brushing over your nipples and making you shudder.

You couldn’t bring yourself to resist the insatiable assassin, kissing him as he flipped you on your back as his touches became rougher. You certainly wouldn’t be escaping him any time soon, and found yourself immensely grateful that there was nobody around to hear the two of you, because it was a while before Talon would let you rest.

[crispyjenkins]

A third part to the JangObi locked in a cell/ weapons courting if there isn’t one yet. Jango or Boba calling Obi Mandokar. At least I think that’s the word. A Mando’s wet dream basically.

(this one entirely got away from me and i didn't get to Boba actually using the word Mandokar, but both Obi-Wan and Satine know what he's getting at (ノ*゜▽゜*)

again, i do not hate Satine, but I also do not particularly like her! she's clearly got some stuff to work through here >.>

Thank you as always, Roxy!)

  When Jango had told Boba that he'd finally get to see the inside of the Senate Rotunda (legally, this time), Boba hadn't been particularly thrilled. Why should he care about the politics of a Republic neither he nor his buir are a part of?

  Well, Obi-Wan is a part of it, but he also clearly doesn't want to be.

  To put it shortly, Boba hadn't had high expectations for his afternoon, especially since it was preceded by Obi-Wan taking him to Dex's and letting Kote teach him how to use two vibroblades at once. Why couldn't they have just waited by the Slave I for Jango to finish his politicking? 

  He supposes Obi-Wan makes it bearable, taking him on a tour and telling him facts about the building itself, as well as stories from the Sacking of Coruscant, but Boba's good will ends rather abruptly when they run into Kryze and Padmé in one of the main corridors.

  Tense pleasantries are quickly exchanged, and Boba realises they haven't seen Kryze since Jango had helped Obi-Wan save her from Darth Maul; Boba still isn't sure of the details of what happened after, but his buir had been furious. 

  When it takes all of two minutes for Kryze to mockingly call Obi-Wan General Kenobi, Boba shares the kriffing sentiment. 

  Obi-Wan heaves a sigh, and Padmé looks wildly uncomfortable. "My lady, I do not know what you hope to achieve by reiterating your position on the Order’s involvement in the War; I am but one Jedi."

  "A Jedi on the High Council. You are just as implicit in its continuation as the rest," Kryze retorts, and Boba may be thirteen and a little out of his depth with the Politician Speak, but he knows this isn't about the Jedi, or the War. "Do not think you can absolve yourself from fault."

  Boba looks up at Obi-Wan, eager for his witty retort, but he just looks tired, and Boba has to remind himself that Obi-Wan had loved her, once. 

  Padmé smiles apologetically, trying to pull Kryze's focus. "The decisions of the High Council are not made by Obi-Wan alone," she says, even though they all know that isn't really the issue. 

  "You’re right," Kryze agrees, not sounding like she agrees at all, "individual Jedi have absolutely no control over their political participation in needless violence." Boba grinds his teeth as she gives up trying to hide her scowl.

  And Obi-Wan just stands there and takes it, like Boba hasn't seen him talk entire armies out of battle, or fight off both Savage and Maul at once. He hasn't seen Obi-Wan like this since Waxer's death on Cato Neimoidia.

  Obi-Wan sighs again, trying to offer Boba a little smile. "Individuals always have a choice," he says, more to Boba than Kryze. "But preventing the death of millions outweighs our personal beliefs, don't you think?"

  Boba nods firmly as Padmé shifts on her feet, but doesn't disagree; she's certainly seen more battle in this war than Kryze. 

  Kryze who scoffs to hide what must be genuine hurt. Anger is rarely about the thing you're angry with, Boba remembers Lama Su trying to teach him, and he reminds himself that Kryze had loved Obi-Wan once, too. That was the real problem, wasn't it?

  "Back then, you avoided conflict whenever you could," she says, flat and a little sad, "you would always rather go around than force your way through. It saddens me, Obi-Wan, to see what's left of your honor."

  "At least Obi-Wan hasn't murdered an entire half of his people!" Boba snarls, deciding he's quite done listening to this nonsense. 

  "Boba, it's alright," Obi-Wan says softly, but he's also keeping his left arm behind his back, keeping Jango's vambrace out of sight, and Boba is livid.

  "'Gar taldin ni jaonyc,'" he says, because he knows the "Duchess" still understands Mando'a, even if she pretends she doesn't.  Bloodline means nothing. "I don't care who your clan was, or what title you claim to have: until you are ready to die for your people, they are not yours."

  Kryze stares down at him, and Boba can feel Obi-Wan prodding at his mind in question, in an attempt to calm, but Boba shoves him back out. 

  "It's easy to call Obi-Wan a murderer when you're hiding in your glass palace, when you wouldn't know the first thing about defending it. Do not speak of honor until you even know what that is."

  There is a tense beat of silence before Kryze rounds a glare on Obi-Wan. "I would hope you could speak for yourself, if the Senate trusts a third of the Galactic Army in your hands."

  "Satine," Padmé murmurs, glancing at the passing senators who aren't even trying to hide their stares. 

  Obi-Wan’s eyes are colder than Boba has ever seen them, the hand behind him clenched into a fist, and Kryze had known him very well at one point, Boba knows she can read between the lines of Obi-Wan’s blank expression.

  "And I had hoped we had reached an understanding that there was nothing else for us to discuss, my lady. There are only so many times we can beat a dead bantha."

  Kryze sniffs. "You need not show me so much disdain, Obi-Wan: we are not sixteen and foolish anymore." Padmé tries to cut in, but Kryze waves for her silence. "But I agree, I do not think any new peace can be reached here, and you should be getting the child back to his progenitor, no?"

  "Jealous hag," Boba chirps, rocking on the balls of his feet and wondering if she had had dreams of having kids with Obi-Wan. "You didn't deserve Obi-Wan back then, and you certainly don't deserve him now. At the very least, he can separate his feelings from his politics."

  "Boba, please," Obi-Wan sighs, setting a gentle hand on the back of his neck, and Boba gets to watch with a vicious glee the exact moment Kryze sees Jango's vambrace, the only piece of armor Obi-Wan wears, and realises he is far past fraternising with her enemy.

  Padmé puts a hand on Kryze’s arm and gently starts to lead her away. "We should return to the committee, Duchess. And I'm sure Master Kenobi has his own business to attend to."

  "Of course," Kryze agrees icily, and actually returns Obi-Wan’s nod of farewell; she barely spares Boba a glance, though he smiles innocently up at her and mutters,

  "Demagulka," just loud enough for her to hear.

  Obi-Wan casts him a stern look, but luckily doesn't get the chance to scold him further, when Padmé quickly returns without Kryze and looks harried enough for all three of them. 

  "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," she says, hushed in the still rather busy hall, "You did not deserve that."

  "That's quite alright, my dear," Obi-Wan is quick to say, and smiles at his friend. "I'm afraid I'm quite used to such treatment, though perhaps not so... publicly."

  "I don't know if I've ever seen you in the Rotunda without the council, and I highly doubt you came all this way just to butt heads with the Duchess. What are you doing here?"

  "Ah, that would be this one's fault," he says, Boba yelping as Obi-Wan sticks his hand into his curls and tousles them roughly. He only smiles down at him when Boba growls and grabs onto his arm, and though he knows Obi-Wan could easily lift him like this, the Jedi would never do so here.

  "It was Boba, yes?" Padmé asks kindly, folding her hands in front of her. "What brings you to the Rotunda?'

  "Buir said he was meeting someone," he scrunches up his face. "But we're leaving right after so Obi-Wan was watching me and brought me over to meet him."

  Padmé’s smile only slips a little, looking back to Obi-Wan. "Fett's meeting someone?" she asks, even quieter, "Here?"

  "It is perhaps not my place to speak of it, we are still in the very early stages," he says mysteriously, tugging Boba around to lean against his front, arms draped over Boba's shoulders as if trying to make up for Jango’s resistance to public displays of affection. Grumbling, Boba still lets himself be held there, and meets every stare from passing politicians with a glare. "When we get a little further along, I would very much like to speak with the Delegation of 2,000."

  Bemused but not particularly surprised, Padmé shakes her head. "Of course, Obi-Wan. Are we to see you on Coruscant more often, then?"

  Obi-Wan winces and holds Boba a little closer. "The 212th is coming off leave at the end of the tenday, I'm afraid. And of course Jango and Boba will be returning to Mandalorian space."

  Padmé looks over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, smile becoming strained but not quite unfriendly. "Speak the name of the Dianoga," she sighs.

  Boba wriggles to look behind them and immediately perks up. "Buir!"

  Jango pauses on his path for the elevators, turning instead towards Boba's voice; the lines of his face soften at the sight of them, joining them after an encouraging finger-flick from Obi-Wan. 

  "Senator Amidala," he greets with a nod, and Boba thinks his buir actually likes Padmé, but won't admit it because Obi-Wan would never let him hear the end of it.

  "Mr. Fett," she returns, shaking his hand firmly like any good Mando. "Although, if my suspicions about your presence here are correct, I will be adjusting my term of address in the near future?"

  Letting Boba latch onto his side like a Corellian limpet, Jango raises a brow at Obi-Wan. "Haat'ade do not change their clan names at marriage," he says, Boba rolling his eyes at his buir's failed attempt at humor, and Obi-Wan rubs his eyes with one hand. 

  "Jango," he sighs, Padmé looking like Lifeday came early. 

  "Obi-Wan, you hadn't told me the Council had approved your request," she plays along, "When can I expect an invitation?"

  "After I'm done with him, never."

  "Now, cyar’ika," Jango chides, "it's best not to publicly threaten your–" 

  "Finish that sentence, and I'll have Anakin steal the Slave I," Obi-Wan says it into his hand, but Boba can see the edges of a smile. "Padmé, please don't encourage him, he'll be insufferable after this."

  Padmé casts a quick wink down to Boba. "You best tell Anakin next, if he's the last to know, he'll be whining for weeks."

  Jango brushes his fingers over Obi-Wan’s back like a sap, and his smile is even worse. Maker, Boba loves the both of them, but no one should look as smitten as his buir does any time Obi-Wan threatens him. "I don't know how we're going to fit your entire family on Concord Dawn, or all the kids." 

  "You mean the vode? Buir, I think Obi has more people on the Negotiator than have ever even lived on Concord Dawn."

  "Why in Corellian Hells would I agree to have it on Concord Dawn?" Obi-Wan wants to know. "Maker, but this entire conversation is ridiculous."

  Padmé tilts her head with a small hum, expression entirely too innocent. "Didn't you agree to marry Anakin on Tatooine for the one mission with the three-lekku Twi'lek and their five footed goa–"

  "Yes, THANK YOU, my dear, that's quite enough of that."

  Jango looks put-out, just short of an actual pout, and Boba wriggles against him in embarrassment. "You didn't tell me about that mission," Jango says, feigning hurt.

  Obi-Wan side-eyes him, and only gets a smile for his trouble. "You know," Obi-Wan starts casually, but with a mischievous twinkle in his eye that has only ever meant great deals of fun for Boba, "by Stewjoni rites, we're already married."

 Jango chokes on nothing, and Boba wonders if he'd even known where Obi-Wan was from. He should probably tell his buir he's already met Obi-Wan's grandparents.

Mando’a: buir — “parent”, gender neutral Demagulka — (from mandoa.org) “someone who commits atrocties, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche” Haat’ade — slang for Haat Mando’ade, lit. “true children of Mandalore”, True Mandalorians cyar’ika — “darling”, “sweetheart”

*“Gar taldin ni jaonyc” from the full phrase “Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la,” lit. “Bloodline is not important, but you as a [parent] [is] the most valuable thing”,  used in the context of not judging someone by their lineage (blood or not) but by their own actions as a parent. I’ve used it here as Boba both calling Satine “dar’manda” and calling out her hypocrisy in criticising Obi-Wan/the Jedi from her ivory tower when she is a Kalevalen imperialist ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[the-shiniest-plant]

OC Interview: Fionnuala

Draw (or use an old drawing, don’t worry!) or take a screen of your character in an interview setting and make them answer the following questions!

(I was tagged by @uselessidiotsquad and @thoseofuswhoblossom! Hi, guys!)

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

- Hi! I’m Fionnuala, Nuala to friends, family, and anyone who finds my name difficult to pronounce. I’m a member of the Crystal Bloom, one of Aurene’s Champions, former Slayer of the Order of Whispers, former Warden, and Maker of Friends! Nice to meet you all!

What is your Gender Identity, Orientation, and Relationship Status?

- Cisgender Female, Panromantic Demisexual, and Single. Turns out not a lot of people want to date someone who’s dragon-branded… which I can understand.

When and where were you born?

- I was born in the Grove about…. Five minutes after midnight… sometime in the Season of the Phoenix, in… 1310! Yeah, that’s about right. I can’t remember what day, but the day doesn’t really matter to Sylvari more than the time of day, so… I guess it makes sense. Does that answer your question well enough? Yes? Good! What’s next?

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

- I fight with two longswords - one in each hand - and though I’m heavily armored I can and prefer to jump in and out of the Dream like most Revenants do the Mists in order to get the drop on my foes. I do use hammers from time to time when I need to hit something far away that I can’t get to. Though, most of all, I like to use the magic of Aurene to lend support to my allies in battle - regeneration, strength, cunning… though I can’t do that too much or it wears me out. Still makes me happy knowing my allies may have survived because of these gifts.

Lastly, are you happy?

- Well, I’m as happy as my current life situation allows me to be. I know I could be happier, if I had different circumstances, but right now I feel like I’m… content at the very least - my brother is safe, my Mother is getting healthier by the day, and I’m always willing to answer Aurene’s call to service. I’m a bit lonely, in all honesty, when apart from my friends in Rurikton, but for now I’m okay with that - I figure when the right person for me comes along, I won’t be so lonely anymore.

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

- I have a pod-brother, Sitheach! He’s a wonderful person, and I love him dearly. We’re very close, and we write to one another all the time when he’s on missions for the Pale Reavers, just to keep each other posted on current situations. He’s been home for a bit now, which is a blessing. His boyfriend misses him terribly when he’s away so seeing them back together warms my sparkly little heart!

Have you ever run away from home?

- Nope! I’ve been called everywhere I’ve been, so technically I haven’t “run away” from anything.

Would you consider marriage or having children?

- Well, marriage is a foreign concept to Sylvari, as is childbirth, but I would absolutely love a partner, and would certainly adopt orphaned children of other races if my partner was also okay with raising them, as I highly doubt with my duties as a Champion of Aurene would allow me to effectively raise a child alone. I like to think I’d be a good mother, though.

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

- Pfffft, what kind of a question is that!? Why on Tyria would you call someone a friend if you secretly hated them? How silly!

Which friend knows everything about you?

- The only people on Tyria that know all about me are my brother, and my best friend Elspeth. That being said, I’m rather open to questions so if you see me in public and want to know more about a specific sliver of my life, just ask! I’ll do my best to answer.

Asked by Fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

- I can definitely read and write, as most if not all Sylvari can do that from emergence, and… does the Dream count as schooling? I know learning from Mentors does, but I feel like I learned more from the Dream than I ever did from my mentor - sorry, Maeryn, but it’s true!

What’s the eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

- I don’t think I’ve made any predictions like that, it’d be handy if I could, though… I wish I could’ve predicted the attack on the Grove during the World Summit… if we were prepared… maybe, just maybe Mother wouldn’t have been so grievously injured…

What is something that you were embarrassingly late in realizing?

- I partially understood how the other races weren’t born from pods, but what I didn’t know was the process of mammalian conception and live birth, until a kind Asura explained it to me during a stay in Divinity’s Reach. Hi, Quizz! Hope you’re well!

Do you have mental health or physical issues?

- Hoo boy, where to start… Anxiety and a bit of depression, mostly. Not being on the scene in time to help defend mother during the Shadow of Mordremoth’s attack… it really hit my self-esteem, so now, whenever I’m too late to save an innocent life, it… it haunts me for days…

What is your current main goal?

- My current goal is to protect the people of Tyria and help them in whatever way I can. It may or may not be a compulsion that I get from being Branded, but I’d likely do that anyway without the compulsion, so it works out.

Choices

Drinks or food?

- Drinks! Nothing like a good glass of Nectar after a long day of doing good things!

Cats or dogs?

- Dogs. Sylvan hounds. Specifically the puppies... I need to visit Danador’s Kennel again!

Early bird or night owl?

- Definitely a Night Owl! Which makes sense because of my Cycle. I thrive in the Evenings!

Optimist or Pessimist?

- My friends have never known me to be anything but optimistic in all my endeavors, and I certainly don’t plan to stop now!

Sassy or Sarcastic?

- Ooh, hard choice… they both have their merits… can I say “both”? Is that okay? I honestly can’t choose with this one!

Have you ever…

Been caught sneaking out?

- Of a Nightmare Camp? Yes. On several occasions, actually. I got a lot better at not being caught after I joined the Order of Whispers. Mostly because I didn’t have Ellie to help distract my foes so I could make an escape, if I was caught. Which I wasn’t! Not after Whispers.

Broken a bone?

- Never! Not even during Dragonstorm! Rather lucky on that front, my Priory friend lost her whole arm! Hi, Vledda!

Received flowers?

- No. Grown several myself, though.

Ghosted someone?

- Like, turned them into a ghost? Probably several people.

Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

- Oh, plenty, when I was a sapling. I understood humor more and more as I kept living.

And there you have it! I tag @moonlit-grove again because I want Sitheach Lore, dang it!

[barkkletshunt]

Those Worth Fighting For Part six

Hey everyone! Sorry this took forever to get out, work and school have been hectic. This chapter was a little rushed because of it since I’ve only been able to write it before work each mornings, but I hope you’ll like it nonetheless. 

Taglist:

@ladybug-182 @fruit-snacc-ace @miraculous-simmer7 @lavenderjunes  @use-flamethrower 

Part one             Part two

Part three           Part four

Part five             Part six (you’re here)

Part seven         Part eight 

Things were out of control. The pipes throughout Paris were alive and there weren’t enough superheroes to keep people safe, and Ladybug had no idea what to do. She had called everyone to tell them that the weak spot of the beast was at the museum, but that didn’t stop the destruction from around Paris from happening. 

There was chaos all around her, and it made it nearly impossible to get to the actual museum itself. If it hadn’t been for that Alley Cat intervening she wasn’t sure if she would have found her way there at all. The situation had her on high alert and she couldn’t help but be reminded of the day she lost the miraculous’ and that fear had gripped her heart. It was almost enough to make her cry. 

That wasn’t going to happen again though, and she knew it. She had thought up more backup and emergency plans just for the box than she had any time before then. The box was safe inside three other boxes in her own basement. She had designed specialty locks with Max to ensure it won’t be unlocked by fall damage or a personal assistant of a heiress. She knew it was safe. The damage had been done and she had learned from it, and now could only hope that she could make up for it. She wouldn’t fall down that rabbit hole of self doubt again.

Ladybug dodged the metal pipes that tried to attack her, and with a quick group call on her yoyo she was able to make sure everyone was on the same page on where to go. Much to her surprise two unfamiliar voices responded along with the heroes she knew would be out. 

“Miss. Bug, if you have a moment?” Alley Cat's voice came clear over her yoyo in a personal call, just the two of them. 

“What is it?” She snapped with more harshness than she had meant. She was irritated at the circumstance, and only a little at the stray cat that called. 

“I found two new miraculous holders, and they’re going to join us.” She didn’t have time for this. She was already overwhelmed and Cat adding more responsibility didn’t help.

“You just so happen to find two miraculous holders right as everything goes to Hell? You sure you didn’t just hand off two to people instead of telling me you had them?” 

“Miss. Bug, I assure you that I have no interest in keeping any miraculous away from you aside from my own. I only got to speak with the one for a moment, but they claimed to have found a second miraculous on their own and wanted to give it to you. They want to join your team.” He tried his best to calm her, trying to sooth her with his voice, but it didn’t work.

It wasn’t like she trusted him to begin with, and even with his sweet words earlier that made her heart ache, she knew not to trust anyone willy nilly. 

If only Felix was the one to find the cat miraculous, Ladybug thought. Felix thought ahead and worked with her as a team, unlike the man in black leather who seemed to know where all her buttons were to push.

“Not everyone wants to take over Paris, Miss. Bug.” Alley cat said over their walkie talkie function. “Some just want to protect it.”

She didn’t have much time to dwell on what he was insinuating with the museum coming up close. She could deal with him and the new miraculous holders later and pray that they were also on her side instead of Queen Fishers. Judging by how they were on her friends list on her communicator, they hadn’t turned their Kwami’s dark. She was just going to have to trust that for now, even if she couldn’t trust the new heroes themselves.

Most of the heroes were already there by the time Ladybug arrived. Instead of a snake head like she assumed would be what they were fighting, it turned out to be the building itself that was taken over by the amok. Pipes both old and new stretched from the building to attach her friends, and with the way they all defended each other made her proud. They had all come so far from being awkward strangers to friends, in and out of the suits. At least, all but three of the people there were friends. 

There was a woman dressed in all white with gold stripes lining her suit cutting down the pipes that were attacking their small group, her cat ears flattened against her head in frustration. The tiger reminded her too much of Chat Blanc for Ladybug to feel at ease, but this time eyes like molten gold burned under the stark white mask. Eyes that looked at the sentimonster with disgust, as if each attack toward the two heros behind her was a personal insult to her. 

Ladybug dropped down to greet the outsider heroes. “You must be the two the cat brought in. How’d he find you?”

The other hero in the group was, without any doubt in her mind, the dog holder. There were floppy brown ears that faded to black at the tips placed delicately on their head, hidden among a mess of brown hair. Their suit looked similar to the markings of a hound dog, but with red belts hanging on their hips. They were the first one to greet the senior hero with a soft timid wave, their other hand holding their specialty weapon. A crossbow. Even she was impressed by how straightforward that weapon was. 

“That guy?” The tiger hero gave a humourless laugh. “He wishes he could claim to be the one to discover my talents as a hero.”

“It is less that he found me, and more like I found him.” The dog hero stated, jumping in tune with Ladybug to dodge another metal attack. “I wasn’t going to jump in, but Barkk told me you guys might need help so I joined in and found Alley Cat. Better late than never to join the hero party, eh?”

“If it wasn’t for Roaar I wouldn’t have joined in either.” The tiger hero agreed. “I’m Tigress, by the way.”

“I’m Canis.” 

“We have a lot to discuss once this battle is over with, but for now, welcome to the team.” 

After everyone had made their brief introductions they all worked together on taking down the beast before them. Tigress, ScapeGoat, HoneyBee, Carapace, and GinnyPig all focused on defence while the other five focused on getting to the heart of the problem. With the problem solvers all focused on the same goal it took only minutes to get inside and destroy the item infused with the amok, a pipe that was almost as old as Paris itself.

Ryuko destroyed the door to get them inside, Canis was able to sniff out the item among the endless pipes inside, Mattamorphis protected them with his cane against oncoming attacks, and just as they found the item Alley Chat cataclysmed it and Ladybug purified the feather. 

Everything went smoothly as soon as they were all together and soon they were all standing around in the fixed building talking, while Ladybug processed what was happening. 

Canis stood with Mattamorphis, ScapeGoat, HoneyBee, and GinnyPig talking excitedly with the other heroes, and on the other side of her there was Tigress talking about the benefits of tai chi with Ryuko and Carapace. Within one fight everyone was getting along and she didn’t know whether she should invite them to join the team or to ask them to hand over their miraculous’. 

“You’re a they/them? Me too!” She could hear ScapeGoat excitedly talking before being interrupted by Ladybugs least favourite man. 

“Oi, Canis, don’t you have something to give the Lady here?” Alley Cat yelled, his English accent coming out clearer than ever. 

“Bloody brit,” the dog hero mumbled under their breath. Ladybug wanted to laugh. Canis wasn’t from France either if their accent was anything to go by, and Tigress had a similar accent to the other cat on their team. Ladybug only hoped that once Alya returned from America where she was filming a documentary about the Sparrow that she wouldn’t have the accent to go along with it, or the French miraculous holders would almost be outnumbered. 

“I found this the other day while shopping for jewelry for my-,” Canis cut themselves off, immediately scratching their neck in embarrassment. “Well I was out shopping and I found this.”

The hero outstretched their hand to produce a miraculous Ladybug hadn’t seen in a long time. The rooster. 

“I was kind of afraid of what kind of name that hero would use.” Canis said, smiling to themselves at their own joke. “Heros need to be family friendly after all.” 

Ladybug stared at the jewel in her hand. They hadn’t hesitated to give up a miraculous, they just wanted to do the right thing. “Thank you. The Guardian of the box also thanks you, now more than ever we need to crack down and retrieve the missing miraculous’.”

“Well I am certainly glad that you are all getting along, but there is a very wonderful woman waiting for me and I’d hate to keep my date waiting.” Alley Cat stretched his arms above his head, trying to be as dramatic as possible.

“Oh my God I left my girlfriend in a public bathroom in a city we don’t even live in.” Canis gasped, slapping their hands over their face. “She’s going to kill me!”

“At least your partner didn’t shove you in a public bathroom in order to protect you,” Tigress laughed. 

“Ey, I got to go too, Ladybug. I have some friends waiting for me. Got some important business to attend to.” Carapace joined in, and soon everyone was agreeing that they had to leave. 

“Canis, Tigress.” Ladybug used her best team leader voice to get the two’s attention. She couldn’t leave things as they were. “I appreciate your help today but the miraculous’ need to go back to the Guardian.”

The heroes ears flattened.

“Ladybug,” Canis looked at the heroine with large blue eyes, tears starting to form. “Barkk gave me a kwagatama. I’d do anything to be able to keep them in my life. She means the world to me and I promise I won’t do anything reckless.”

“And I’m on your side, I swear.” Tigress brushed her near white bangs out of her face. “I’m not going to use the miraculous for anything nefarious. Roarr means too much to me and I wouldn’t do anything that could get her taken away.”

Ladybug remembered when Tikki gave her a Kwagatama. It had been her birthday and she recalled how much those little jewels meant to be gifted one by their Kwami. If Barkk was that serious about Canis, did she even have a choice? What about Tigress?

“We will all be having a meeting in two days' time, at ten o’clock, at the top of the Eiffel Tower.” Ladybug announced. “Understood?”

“Us too?” The new heroes asked.

“Especially you two, now go. Don’t leave your partners waiting.” Ladybug pinched the bridge of her nose as the group of heroes all ran off except for one. 

“I honestly thought you were going to take away their miraculous in front of everyone.” Alley Cat said, leaning forward to put his face in front of her own. “Does that mean you’ll stop asking for mine now?”

“Would you listen even if I did ask for it?”

“Not as long as I’m in France, Miss. Bug.” Alley Cat laughed, taking a step back just as Ladybug tried to snatch his hand for the ring. It was a half ditch effort she didn’t put enough energy into in order to really get it back, but the black cat didn’t seem to take offence. 

“When are you leaving Paris?” 

“Depends,” he muttered. “If my date goes as well as I hope, maybe I’ll never leave.”

“You like this girl that much?” Ladybug raised a brow. “Even though I saw you flirting with someone earlier?”

“It was love at first sight with my beloved, but I didn’t stop seeing after that, y’know.” The cat ran his fingers through his hair, wistfully looking off in the distance as if remembering Marinette fondly. “If I ever have a vote on who gets a miraculous, I’d vote for her. She ran to protect me from that sentimonster without any thought of her own safety. She has the makings of a hero, Miss. Bug.”

“Good thing you aren’t getting a vote.” She needed him to stop before her face turned as red as her suit. “There is more to being a hero than sacrificing yourself.”

The man hummed to himself, that annoying smirk never leaving his face. “I’d say you need to keep a better watch on that girl, she is definitely more brilliant than you are giving her credit for. I’d bet one of my nine lives on it.” 

[notsogreatgamer]

SPOILERS FOR INFINITE DARKNESS BELOW

As promised, this is the Claire and Leon post. I will include my thoughts underneath a keep reading line. 

Firstly, I am going to talk about Leon. His characterization here seems all over the place. While he may be irritated about the Raccoon City coverup and wants to end bioterror, he doesn’t really seem it aside from the anger he expresses to Jason. Additionally, they really tried to lean in to the Lady’s Man persona by having him ask Shen May out to dinner the second they are left alone and then have it happen again with Claire (He assumes that she is calling him out for dinner) and it just felt jarring. (Or as I thought at the time, it made him seem lonely--constantly seeking companionship.) My husband who was watching it with me said many times that he just didn’t understand Leon. Wouldn’t he want the same things Shen May and Jason do--to expose the coverup--given his history? And I tried to defend Leon because it’s complicated and, to me, his reluctance to expose the US government boils down to Claire and Sherry’s safety--specifically Sherry. The girl is a powerful bargaining chip for Leon. However, this isn’t anything shown to us and is just...speculation.

Now for Claire. I hate how little screen time she got and how careless they made her. The appearance of her motel wall tells us that she has been researching this for a long time--likely since finding that sketch by the young boy. She is smart enough to make the necessary connections without Jason or Shen May giving her that information. (So, despite the end of the series, I believe she will go public with the information and it will be convincing enough to at least cause questions to be asked of the US government.) Despite this showcasing of capability, they made her so careless with that information otherwise. Loudly announcing that she found an incriminating note at the scene of a MAD DOG’s suicide to the man that was likely implicated in it?! This woman has survived TWO zombie infestations and yet she chooses a lamp as her weapon of choice when someone breaks into her motel room? She screams before hitting--announcing her attack and giving him time to turn around?? Leaving the door open instead of shutting it and locking it in case another agent is just behind him?? Like, come on, Claire. You are better than this. Her personality was pretty spot on to what I was expecting though: snarky, sarcastic, and straightforward. They didn’t exactly make her a damsel in distress either, so that was a positive. She did get kidnapped, but she got out of the situation mostly on her own; she just needed a hand up which Leon provided. 

Let’s talk that scene. It was the typical ship-tease that I expected to find. She falls on top of him and they have a Cloud/Tifa moment and the way they were looking at one another was *chef’s kiss*. He looks at her so softly and she takes a minute to look at him; they are also so slow to get up. 

Now, the ending scene that everyone has been saying is the end of Cleon. I have already expressed in a re-blogged post that I don’t believe that is the intention. They are arguing about a difference in methods, yes, but that doesn’t mean anything has ended between them. That isn’t how relationships work; one argument doesn’t end everything. They are still friends; they still share that bond; they still care for another. Their argument can boil down to Leon wanting to protect her and Claire wanting to push forward despite the backlash. 

My initial reaction to Leon’s answer to Claire’s request that he stop babying her was a disappointed “awe” because it felt like this was Capcom’s way of saying they were platonic only but then the scene from before directly contradicts that. So, I believe that maybe they were attempting to show that Leon cares and wants to protect her and he puts that before her immediate happiness--as shown by him denying her the chip. She may be angry at him, but at least she’s safe from any fallout. However, I did feel it was a little out of character. Because he doesn't treat her like a child. He has always treated her like his partner. Raccoon City proved they could lean on one another; even if she is younger than him, she proved herself capable and he respects the shit out of her. Harvardville, he had no hesitation in building her up and defending why she should have a say in their plans; he established she is his equal outloud and backed it up by throwing her his gun without hesitation. He does not treat her like a child; he treats her like his occasionally very rash partner.

As for Claire’s reaction, her anger is understandable. This is after Raccoon City, after Harvardville, after his promise to her that he will bring an end to bioterror. She knows what she will be getting into by making the information on Jun See’s chip public; she is ready for those risks, but Leon isn’t so he is denying her the chip. Partly because the narrative of Resident Evil demands he not be. I fully believe that he does want the coverup exposed; he wants to end bioterror and show the people cultivating it that they can’t get away with it, but he has connections that complicate outright exposing the coverup immediately after the President’s speech. If he sides with her, there is Sherry to consider. So, in my opinion, he’s playing the long game or at the very least waiting until the time is right to expose the information---NOT after a public speech by the president (and his father figure) that promotes peace. Even if Leon had wanted to explain, I don’t imagine Claire is in the mood to listen. Maybe once she cools down, she will be because I highly doubt the way they ended their conversation was satisfying for her.    

 So, I don’t expect that this is the end. 

Now I don’t know that I expect a season 2 simply because Resident Evil doesn’t have a history of providing sequels to their CGI movies. 

[noirandchocolate]

All right, since I was asked very nicely by a couple people when I complained in general about how Americans don’t get properly taught about their own Constitutional rights, here is a post explaining why, in the US, jurors are not permitted to do their own research outside the courtroom (even if they think something a witness said might be incorrect or ‘wrong’).

The Fifth Amendment to the US Constitution states that a person may not be deprived of her life, liberty, or property “without due process of law.”  More specifically, the Sixth Amendment guarantees a criminal defendant the right to a trial by “an impartial jury,” and the right to be “confronted with the witnesses against him.” 

The “impartial jury” rule has been interpreted to mean, among other things, that the jury must make its decision based solely on the evidence presented in court, and that the verdict must not be tainted by outside influences.  The “witness confrontation” rule also comes into play with this topic, as I’ll explain below.  But basically, the short answer to the question “why can’t jurors do their own research?” is “because the Constitution says they can’t, and the Constitution is the supreme law of the land.”  But that doesn’t explain WHY that’s the rule, and is therefore unsatisfying, so here’s some good reasons why a criminal defendant shouldn’t want jurors to be able to consider things outside the evidence presented at their trial!

1)  Publicity--One of the major things jurors are instructed not to look at while a trial is ongoing is news media.  Why?  Because news outlets are not forbidden from reporting about ongoing criminal matters (First Amendment!), and exposure to such publicity can jeopardize the impartiality of a juror.  Let’s say you are charged with robbing a convenience store, and your trial has just started.  A news reporter posts an article online about the robbery.  It has a pretty sensational headline, something like “Father of Two Threatened with Gun in Convenience Store Holdup.”  A juror hearing your case, let’s call him Rick, is curious about the location of the store, and googles its name.  The news article comes up and Rick sees this headline.  Oh, wow, the cashier has kids?  He was threatened?  It was a “holdup”?  That sounds terrible!!  Humans are very susceptible creatures and can be swayed by all kinds of things.  Would you, the defendant, want Rick to read that headline, much less the article giving out a bunch of details that haven’t (yet, or ever) been revealed in court?  Would you trust Rick to listen to your side of the story, and base his decision in your case on the evidence in court, after reading such inflammatory things about the incident?

Many times, very high-profile cases are moved out of the jurisdiction where they would normally be tried, because the local area has been inundated with pretrial publicity making it difficult to find jurors who haven’t heard about the case and formed some kind of opinion, conscious or unconscious, about it.  Keeping a sitting jury from being exposed to media publicity during a trial is just as important.

2) Right to Confront Witnesses--As stated above, the Sixth Amendment guarantees this.  What does it mean?  That the prosecution must base its case on witness testimony and evidence that it puts before the jury in court, and you the defendant must be given a chance to cross-examine those witnesses about their testimony and the evidence presented, to call its truth into question, challenge whether it establishes all the elements of the crime you’re charged with, or otherwise poke holes in the case against you.  This is the reason hearsay evidence is barred unless one of a number of exceptions applies.  So what does that have to do with jurors doing outside research?

In our faux robbery trial, let’s say that juror Keisha thought there were some gaps or inconsistencies in the cashier’s testimony, so she looks him up online to see if he talked about being robbed on social media closer to when it happened.  Not only does she find his tweets from right after the incident, which bolster the story he told on direct examination (and that your counsel did their best to bash holes in during cross), she finds his cousin’s Facebook.  The cousin has an emotionally charged post about how the cashier came to her house sobbing after talking to police, and everything he told her about the robbery.  During deliberations, Keisha shares the tweets and the cousin’s post with the other jurors.  Now, wouldn’t you be mad if you found out that there was another witness against you in the case (the cousin) that you didn’t get a chance to question?  Wouldn’t you be upset to hear that the jurors were using the cashier’s tweets as evidence for your guilt, when the prosecutor didn’t present them in court and you didn’t get an opportunity to ask the cashier about them (and they may have been inadmissible, as discussed below)?  Your Sixth Amendment right to confrontation has been violated, because a juror did outside research!

3) Expert Witnesses--This is obviously linked with the last point.  When explaining evidence will involve some technical knowledge, the prosecution may present an “expert” witness to provide that background and knowledge.  Such an expert might or might not have any other link to the current case.  For example, where a gun is involved in a crime, a ballistics expert might be called to testify in general about bullet calibers, how guns work and how bullets can be matched to them, etc., and then may be asked to provide an expert opinion based on that knowledge--perhaps whether, after performing some examination, she believes a bullet fired into the floor of the convenience store during the robbery appears to “match” with a gun found in your home.  Before an expert witness may provide such testimony, both the prosecution and the defense will ask her questions about her qualifications as an expert, such as her education on the subject, whether she has any certifications in the field, whether she attends ongoing training to update her knowledge, things like that.  Then, the judge will make a finding whether the qualifications are sufficient for her to testify as an expert, and will tell the jury that it should consider those qualifications when deciding whether her opinion has any weight.

Now, for an example, let’s say juror Winn didn’t think the ballistics expert sounded very certain about matching the bullet to the gun police claim they found in your home, and is wondering how much weight  they should even give the witness’s testimony.  At home, they do a quick google search to see if the kind of gun police claim was at your house uses the type of bullet they found at the store.  They find a website listing many types of guns and bullets, read that the gun can indeed fire that type of bullet, and even see the site creator’s opinion that this kind of gun is an “assault weapon” and that those bullets are particularly damaging.  During deliberations, Winn tells the other jurors what they learned.  Whoops!  That website may have been used by the jury as an “expert witness,” despite the fact that its creator may only be a hobbyist gun enthusiast without formal education!  You didn’t get to question this mysterious person about their qualifications to speak about ballistics, you didn’t get to cross-examine their opinions...and you should really file an appeal if you’re convicted.

4) Inadmissible Evidence--Prior to any criminal trial, there will probably be at least some discussion (and motions) by your counsel and the prosecutor about whether certain evidence is admissible at trial.  For example, your lawyer might move to suppress your confession to police, because they used improper interrogation tactics or violated your Miranda rights.  Or, if you have a prior record, the State might try to submit evidence of your earlier convictions (a type of evidence that is highly prejudicial, because it makes it look like you’re “a criminal,” particularly if your prior conviction involves a similar offense to the one currently charged).  In fact, let’s go with that example.  Let’s say you have a prior conviction for assault, from several years ago.  The court rules that the prosecution may not bring up that conviction to make you look bad during their case.  However, if you choose to testify, the prosecutor will be allowed to ask you some basic information about it--its degree, and when it happened, but NOT what offense it was for--so the jury can assess the credibility of your testimony with the knowledge that you have broken the law before.  Maybe you choose to testify anyway, and that “sanitized” (a legal term) info is told to the jury.

Hearing that you had a prior conviction, Amir is curious, and searches for your name and the phrase “conviction.”  He finds the record of your conviction, which is public, and finds out it was for assault.  Well, the very information the court ruled inadmissible is soon shared with the whole jury, and several members now think of you not just as someone with some vague prior offense, but as someone who assaults people.  You know.  Like a robber does.  Alternatively, let’s say you decided not to testify, because you worried that the jury would find out you had a prior conviction and become biased against you.  So, the prosecutor wasn’t allowed to talk about the subject at all.  But Amir still wondered in general about what kind of person you are, so he still did his google search for your name and found out about your conviction anyway.  You gave up your chance to tell your side of the story, and the jury still discovered exactly what you wanted to hide! 

This point can also dovetail with the prior ones.  What if Amir found your mom’s blog post where she mentioned how you confessed the robbery to police, despite the fact that the judge ruled your confession inadmissible and the jury would otherwise have no idea it existed?  The jury now knows that you “confessed,” but since the confession was never discussed at trial you didn’t have a chance to cross-examine the cops that interrogated you about the subject.  So the jury doesn’t know they withheld food from you for hours and wouldn’t let you speak to your attorney.  As far as the jury knows, the cops did nothing wrong!  You didn’t get the chance to confront that evidence against you.

5) Mistakes or Misinformation--Seriously, a website might have a typo in it.  The problem can be as stupid and yet as vital as that.  Plenty of sites have agendas or viewpoints they’re trying to push, too.  Sure, a person testifying in court might lie (on pain of being found out and charged with perjury!) or make a mistake or not remember something correctly.  But it’s a really bad idea to add into that mix the chaos of internet research, when a criminal defendant’s liberty is on the line.  Jurors are expected to evaluate whether they think witnesses are credible based on what goes on in the courtroom.  Allowing them to “check” witness testimony online, using sites that might also not be credible at all, simply doesn’t make sense.  In court, at least a witness can be cross-examined.  You can’t cross-examine a juror’s Wikipedia trail.

6) Even Positive Stuff is Bad--Okay, you may be saying, but all these examples involve jurors discovering stuff that’s bad for me the hypothetical defendant.  What if a juror googles a cop witness and finds his racist tweets, hurting his credibility?  What if a witness lies about something, and a juror finds their Facebook where they told the real story?  What if a witness misstates something and a juror looks up a website that tells them the accurate facts?  That would help me!  I guess so, and the lack of prejudice to you the defendant’s constitutional rights might be taken into account if, say, the prosecutor finds out about these types of jury taint and moves for a mistrial.  But the government also has a strong interest in maintaining the integrity of a trial, and that will also be weighed.

In the end, the answer to the question “why don’t we let jurors do outside research” is “because your Constitutional right to a fair trial is so important.”  You shouldn’t be deprived of your liberty without due process, and due process includes the right to question, cross-examine, and call into question all of the evidence against you.  As a result, the verdict in your case needs to be based on the evidence officially presented in court during your trial, not whatever mishmash of sources the jury might discover outside.  Even though there might be the off chance that some juror’s research could help your side, there are so many ways you could be hurt by it.  If you were facing the possibility of several years in prison, would you want to take that chance, and have this key rule be changed?

[m-y-fandoms]

Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Ultimate Monster Hunter reader - Part 1 (Supernatural AU)

Request: Can I get some vampire Komaeda x reader? I loved the Kokichi one and Komaeda is my absolute fave :3 thanks <3

This will be a full series with multiple chapters, not a head-canon or short imagine. Nagito is my favorite Danganronpa character, even ahead of Kokichi.

Part 2 here

Also this will be set in the DR3 anime universe, when they are all just Ultimates at Hope’s Peak before the Tragedy

- Admin Kokichi

     “When are they coming out?!” You could hear a girl roar from the crowd before you. It was your first day at Hope’s Peak Academy, and already you could tell that at least some of the crazy rumors about the school’s eccentricities were true. You’d only been walking around campus, getting your bearings before you moved into the Main Course dorms later that evening.

     It was a bit odd to see a group of nearly a dozen girls from the Reserve Course waiting at the entrance to the Main Course building, waiting to watch some of the Ultimates walk to the cafeteria. I mean, being an Ultimate didn’t make one worth fan-girling over, right? But maybe you’d have seen their side of it if you weren’t an Ultimate yourself.

~

     Jin Kirigiri, the school’s headmaster, was a very close childhood friend of your father’s, as was the school’s recruiter, Koichi Kizakura. It was only natural that they both insisted you go there, especially with your talent. You were the Ultimate Hunter... or... that’s what your official transcripts said anyway. Your real talent was a little more… complicated to explain to a normal society.

     Your real and extended title was that of the Ultimate Monster Hunter, just like your father before you decades ago. That was your passion, your focus, but since you were also prodigious in the normal hunting of animals, that was the title Headmaster Kirigiri assigned you. Of course, Kizakura and Kirigiri knew of your family’s hunter lineage and the existence of supernatural beings, most of the higher-ups at Hopes Peak did, what with all the connections and respect the academy had garnered.

     Most governments, large corporations and upper-class citizens were privy to the existence of monsters, and those sworn to protect all humans from them, so of course Kirigiri knew of such things, however, he couldn’t exactly have you honing your skills in his classrooms and training yards. The general public would either think he’d gone mad for allowing such activities - training to kill beings that did not exist - or worse, they’d wise up and take notice, revealing the secret of supernatural creatures to the world.

     No, no, that couldn’t be allowed to happen, and so Kizakura and Kirigiri had you practicing your crossbow aim on animal-shaped dummies, had you doing general agility and reflex training. Your firearms were used in a high-tech shooting arena that doubled as a dojo when martial arts students arrived for their allotted lesson time.

     Honestly, you didn’t even want to attend Hope’s Peak, seeing as Headmaster Kirigiri had made it very clear that you couldn’t use any of your true talent anywhere on campus or even while in uniform off-campus. You also had to hide your face with a helmet or mask of some type while hunting from now on. You couldn’t be associated with or traced back to the academy in any way, should someone see you engaged with a monster and spread word of it before being apprehended by law enforcement. This rule was only made more severe by the fact that some of your fellow students were of the very species you made a living annihilating.

     That’s right, Hope’s Peak itself was host to the very rare vampire, werewolf, demon, shapeshifter or other manner of beast. Not all of them chose to be hostile or stuck out like a sore thumb, and hey, if you had the talent, you had the talent. It made you question why you should even give the academy a second thought. It felt like they were mocking you, letting inhuman creatures attend a school they personally invited you to, but your father all but forced you to enroll. He insisted it would be the best for your future, and that there’s no one he trusted more than Kirigiri and Kizakura.

     “But if anything… anything at all happens to (Y/N), Jin, I swear on our friendship, I will handle it myself,” he’d said. Your father’s words rung through your mind like a constant reminder. He meant it, too. Your father was the hunter of all hunters, a king of sorts in his circle. Kirigiri knew very well that letting him down was not an option.

~ 

     You stood on the very edge of the group, as far from the doors as possible but still near enough to the others that you wouldn’t look like some weird loner. You sighed, chuckling under your breath at their chittering. It was all so silly.

     “Here they come!” You were startled out of your trance when one out of the whole gaggle of girls before you squealed loudly. You walked toward the front of their group, fascinated by how excited they all were. You were merely curious to see what all the fuss was about. How could they possibly be this worked up about other students their age, just walking to lunch after class? Then again, you hadn’t met any of your fellow Ultimates. Was there some kind of beauty requirement to become one? Huh, wouldn’t surprise me, you thought rather cynically to yourself. This place loves to flaunt its students and reputation.

     “Look~ it’s Fuyuhiko!” One of the girls pushed roughly past you, grazing your shoulder. You could practically see hearts in her eyes as she passed.

     “Jeez, okay...” you muttered sheepishly and leaned back again. You may be a monster killer, but that only worked out because of the adrenaline rush and the lack of attachment and value placed on your targets. In normal life and social situations, it felt like you were the one being killed.

     Great! Now I can’t see anything! You mentally snapped at the fan-girls bumping and shuffling into you with every sporadic movement they made. You couldn't see anything, but you could certainly hear the girls get louder and louder by the second. You were now completely pushed to the side of the group as the girls grunted and hissed like rabid animals.

     “And that’s the lucky one! Komaeda, I think! Man, he’s so hot…” A random brunette drooled. 

Nagito Komaeda: Vampire

Status: Protected/Neutral

Classification: B

Unique Talents and Powers: A cycle of good and bad luck. All other unique traits under review.

Age: Unknown

Coven or Clan: None

     You mechanically recalled little bits and details from your dad’s casework and journals on the most famous vampires in the country. Nagito... yes… you were going to stay away from this one.

     The supernatural beings that could pass as human and were deemed not to be a danger to society signed contracts and treaties that allowed them to live out their lives like normal and protected them legally from hunters (much to your kind’s chagrin). They had strict rules to follow, however, and those who broke said rules were prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law and taken off the protection list, making them fair game to hunters. 

     You really didn’t understand why they kept giving the feral savages chances. Erasing the memories of witnesses, victims (if they survived), and their families after each attack or incident was costly and just unfair to mankind.

     The girls continued to shout and vie for the boys’ attention. Fuyuhiko huffed, rolling his eyes in annoyance at the fuss they were making. This only served to rile them up further, however. It seemed the tough, flippant, bad-boy yakuza persona is exactly what they wanted. They loved the way he gave them the cold shoulder.

     Nagito, on the other hand, was a different case entirely. He didn’t just ignore the girls, he made an obvious show of his disgust for them. He was practically snarling, nose scrunched up as he leaned away from the crowd of them. It wasn’t annoyance at their mewling and squawking, it was something far different. Something like pure revulsion mixed with condescension. But why? It didn’t really matter, as the girls clearly didn’t pick up on his cues, shooting rapid-fire questions his way and reaching out for his sleeves. You scoffed. It was so shallow of them to only like him for his looks and title of Ultimate he held. They knew nothing about him. 

     What he could do to them if they got them alone. How him could kill them in an instant, and even possibly enjoy that kill.

     While you were lost in the abhorrence of your thoughts, Nagito’s eyes had honed in on you, noticed that you were wearing the same uniform as him, and promptly glided over in front of you.

     “Why, hello there!” Komaeda stopped right in front of you. You took a startled step back, but he grasped your hand, preventing you from moving any further away. You did everything you could to repress your fear and repugnance, but your hand still shook slightly in his cold, dead one, and you were sure he could tell. He giggled, obviously enamored with your very presence. “I don’t believe I've seen you before, but you must be in the Main Course as well! What’s your name, if I might ask? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna...” Nagito grinned widely, flashing a set of pearly white teeth. The girls swooned beside you. It seemed you were the only one afraid of what those teeth could do. He was deceivingly beautiful on the outside: tall, pale, doe-eyed, and dangerous. His Class B ranking put him just below the most dangerous of vampires, the elite, the royal clans.

     “(Y-Y/N). It’s my first day.” Your voice shook as you jerked your hand away roughly. It was hard to feel confident without your weapons on you, knowing there was nothing you could do to defend yourself here. Damn you, Kirigiri.

      Your father would be enraged if he knew you had just touched a vampire’s hand so casually. Nagito frowned slightly. He could sense it, the way you didn't trust him, the way you didn't like him down deep inside. He knew you knew something you shouldn't, knew more than the other humans attending Hope’s Peak, and he didn't like it. His brow furrowed in a display of frustration, but that quickly melted away, and he smiled kindly, eyes crinkling at the corners. He would figure out what made you special, even among the Ultimates he revered so passionately. Something was off, and it would kill him if he didn’t figure out why.

     “Well, (Y/N)” He leaned down to your height, his face inches from yours, breathing deeply. Almost as soon as he’d inhaled, he snapped back up, his spine stiff and straight. “Oh!” A look of almost painful surprise and confusion crossed his countenance.

     “What?” You panicked, looking him up and down.

     “Oh, uh, nothing… you smell really good, heh. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that. That’s weird, huh? Wow, I’m really the worst...” he chuckled awkwardly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in a display of innocence. Your mouth hung open, appalled. How could he be so bold about his nature in public? You knew exactly what he was smelling. The hair on your arms and the back of your neck stood up in fear and vexation. Your reaction told him all he needed to know, and in that instant, he decided he wanted to know more. Nagito was the obsessive type, and you were going to be his new fixation. Why did you know? Who told you of his... condition? “Anyway, welcome to Hope’s Peak Academy. I hope I have the honor of seeing you again.” You could hear the wave of extreme jealousy behind you. The heat of anger and envy for you was thick in the air.

     “Enough, Komaeda, ya big creep…” the small but feisty boy cleared his throat before continuing.  “C’mon, if you wanna have time for lunch it’s now or never!” You sighed in relief. Fuyuhiko placed his hand on Nagito's shoulder, pulling him gently away from you. 

     “Sorry, sorry!” Nagito offered a warm smile to his shorter friend. “I’m coming! I apologize, Fuyuhiko” He turned to you,“See you in class, (Y/N)” He simpered, and continued to trail along behind his friend.

     Not if you had anything to say about it…

     You were going to avoid that boy like the plague. Just because you couldn’t kill him, doesn’t mean you had to be best friends.