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glassworkspiderlilies · 3 years

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lily blooded

Piofiore no Banshou | Dante/Liliana, Nicola | AO3 Summary: There is worry that goes around, when Liliana Adornato, raised a church girl all her life, becomes Liliana Falzone, thereby officially moving into the Falzone manor and taking up the position of a mafia wife. She settles in just fine. Notes: spent five hours typing 4k words in one sitting and had an enormous amount of fun...love the falzone boys. :’)

There is worry that goes around, when Liliana Adornato becomes romantically involved with the young Falzone Boss. After all, she was raised a church girl through and through, pious and idealistic, seemingly untouched by such violence that the mafia is so often exposed to or the cause of. Even those who do know her history of run-ins with the mafia worry at least a little, because it’s one thing to be caught up in their problems or under their protection, and another to be the lover of one of the most prominent Family’s Boss.

Liliana can be described in many ways, but they all boil down to the same thing—polite, well-mannered, pious, gentle…if one must offer up a flaw, then it is probably that she can work herself too hard for those she cares for, and that she can be kind to a fault. All in all, she is not the sort of girl that one imagines entangled with the mafia. Though the rest of the Falzone family are used to her presence—and enjoy it—even they will consider her something of the Family princess, a delicate girl to be protected, even more so because she is their Boss’ precious lady.

It is something of a surprise when Dante Falzone and Liliana Adornato are married in springtime, and she becomes Liliana Falzone. Oh, there was never any doubt of their deep affection for each other, but marriage is simply more binding, especially when one marries into the mafia.

Nevertheless, the wedding is celebrated with joy, and Liliana officially moves into the Falzone manor and takes on the position of a mafia wife—the lady of the Falzone Family, a woman with even more status and position than before—

And she settles in just fine.

The Falzone soldati are surprised when they walk into the training rooms one day to see their Boss and his Lady in front of the targets. There is a gun in Lili’s hands, and Dante is standing behind her, helping position her arms and correcting her posture. It would be something out of a romance novel considering how he is practically cradling her to teach her, but the soldati see the absolute seriousness in both of their eyes, and they understand that this is not some mere whim of either of theirs.

It makes sense, for a mafia wife to learn to shoot a gun. But even so, it is a shock seeing the weapon in Lili’s hands, when they are so used to her cheerfully passing out plates of dolce or taking flowers from the Boss with a radiant smile.

But she does not cut much of an intimidating figure, even with the sheer focus on her face, and she yelps when she fires the gun, stepping backwards into Dante’s chest. It’s something of a relief that this incongruent thing does not seem to change her at all.

Dante chuckles a little, but repositions her.

“You’ll get used to the recoil,” he says, and Lili laughs a little, looking at her shaking hand.

“I’m used to the sound, after everything that’s happened,” she says ruefully, “But shooting one yourself is very different, isn’t it?”

Dante looks troubled.

“I still hope that you’ll never have to use one. But you’ve had to take my gun on at least two occasions and shoot on one, so…while I’d much rather protect you personally, or have Nicola or Leo do so, I will concede to the fact that it is much better for you to know how to shoot than not.”

“Thank you for agreeing to teach me, Dante,” Lili says warmly.

He sighs and gives her a wry smile.

“I didn’t expect you to ask for this,” he admits, “But you never fail to surprise me.”

Lili giggles, holding up the gun again and narrowing her eyes at the target.

“I love you, Dante,” she says simply, “So I’m prepared to stand by you, and that means the Family too. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You are never a burden,” Dante says emphatically, a little pink from her declaration, and Lili smiles.

“Well, I’d like to be able to protect you, and the Family, at least a little bit,” she amends, “Just as you all protect me.” She tilts up to press a brief kiss to the corner of his mouth before she faces forward once more. “Can you show me again, please?”

Dante clears his throat, a little off balance from the kiss, then wraps his hands around hers again to assist her.

The soldati make their presence known after she fires the next shot, and the Boss and his wife greet them but continue with their own practice as the men begin their own. After an hour passes, Dante and Lili finish up and end their session for the day. She is only to shoot when either he, Nicola, or Leo are present until she becomes more proficient, and she waves cheerfully as she departs the room.

The soldati don’t think overmuch about this new development other than the fact that it does seem like a good idea if she can train herself to be a half decent shot. In their minds, Liliana is still that sweet church girl, even if she is now the donna of the Falzone Family. So long as she can hold a gun without shaking, that’s enough in their minds. When she’s hardly seen in the training rooms again, no one thinks less of her for it.

But something that they come to learn more fully in due time is that Liliana Falzone nee Adornato does not do things by halves.

Some months down the line, she and the Boss walk into a fairly populated practice room. They are greeted respectfully and space is made for them at one of the targets.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to practice with you much,” Dante apologizes to her, as they take up their positions.

“Don’t worry, you’ve been so busy,” Lili replies soothingly as she loads the gun with ease. Dante watches her and raises an eyebrow, but Lili merely smiles. “Nicola taught me a lot, and you know I’m cleared to practice by myself now.”

Dante hums, but she smiles at him, innocent and serene.

“I think I’ve improved a lot!” she chirps, facing the target, “I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Look!”

Without hesitating, she fires off three shots in rapid succession, and the soldati are taken aback by both her accuracy and fluidity of movement. One hits the bullseye, the others hit fairly close. The room is silent, and Dante claps slowly, at which Lili smiles bashfully at.

“I practiced more at night, when the room was empty…it’s a little embarrassing to be watched when I’m doing poorly. The thing is, I’m actually aiming for the outer ring,” she confesses, “If I aim for the center, it has the opposite effect. I don’t think I can say I’m a good shot given that, really, but…I do okay, right?”

Dante blinks, then barks out a laugh.

“So this is what Nicola meant,” he says, “When he said you’re maybe the best-worst shot he’s ever seen.”

Lili turns pink, then even pinker when she realizes all the soldati have stopped to stare.

One by one, they incline their heads in respect.

“Donna,” they chorus, and though she continues to blush furiously, their Boss looks pleased.

Dante is very young, for a mafia Boss, and so he’d had to fight harder than others to cement his position. He’s treated with respect now, but his youth is always apparent when he attends meetings with other clans or business associates. He knows that he is still often being watched for weaknesses, and questioned silently as to whether he is truly good enough to lead the Falzone Family.

Dante is used to all that by now; in childhood, it’d been a burden. Now, he has the support of many, and leads with confidence and determination.

But he worries for Lili, now that they are married. Wives are expected to attend certain functions; as his lover, she’d been exempt from such things, but now that is no longer true. A dinner meeting with some longtime associates has been called, and it will be the first time Lili is attending something like this as his wife.

“I’m nervous,” Lili admits to him the night before. “But I’m ready, too.”

Dante kisses her forehead, and shows his appreciation slowly and sweetly. They rise late the next morning, but the dinner meeting is the only important thing on the agenda today, so they take their time getting ready.

Lili is stunning in her navy and silver gown, matching with Dante’s suit. Crystals wink at her ears and neck, and a bit of lipstick reddens her lips. Nicola smiles widely when he sees them, and Leo gasps in appreciation.

“Furrow your eyebrows a little,” Nicola suggests, poking the space between his own to demonstrate. “It’ll make you look more intimidating. Your natural face is a little too innocent.”

“I can’t help it,” Lili protests, the consequent scrunching of her eyebrows merely making her look cute, “It’s my face!”

“Yes, I suppose you don’t have Dante’s natural scary disposition at all,” Nicola sighs, “We’ll have to develop your expressions next time or they’ll eat you up.”

“Nicola,” Dante admonishes. “She’s fine as is. Stop making her more nervous.”

Nicola winks.

“Fine, fine. Then knock them dead some other way.”

“I thought the point was to establish better relations,” Lili blinks, and Nicola laughs.

“In the mafia, sometimes it’s one and the same,” he says cheerfully. “In any case, have fun!”

Lili gives him a confused look, but Dante tells her not to pay attention to him and they depart.

Nicola needn’t have worried, in the end.

True, the meeting starts off a little rocky—all of the associates return to their roots, consciously or not, and eye Dante and Lili for their youth. Dante has been tried true over the years, but Lili is fresh blood, and Nicola was right—she looks innocent, despite the darker style she is dressed in. Though she bears the stares of four middle-aged men and their regal wives admirably, they are like sharks in water, ready for the first hint of weakness.

All the women are mostly quiet throughout the dinner itself, but everyone loosens up afterwards, when they enjoy dessert and drinks and cigars. One of the wives offers to pour drinks, and while some of the men decline in favor of cigars and all the other women do, Lili is not given the opportunity to do so.

“Drink up, Signora Falzone,” the instigator says, “I chose the whiskey myself—it is not often we get the opportunity to drink such quality liquor in such good company.”

“Thank you, Signora Rossi,” Lili says smoothly, putting the glass to her lips as everyone watches, discreetly or not.

She drinks, her expression unchanged as the liquor hits her tongue, though her eyes widen a little as she swallows.

“Oh! It’s wonderful,” Lili says, smiling, “I’ve never had whiskey like this before. May I ask the brand?”

Madam Rossi looks a little mollified and shows her the bottle, though she pours more into Lili’s glass with a subtly mischievous look. The madam drinks as well, though less, and the other wives sip digestivos or wine as they begin to chat about various things, and Rossi continues to refill Lili’s glass throughout the conversation.

Dante does not fail to notice, but Lili puts a hand on his knee to let him know she is okay, and so he does nothing. The other men watch out of the corner of their eyes with interest, but say nothing either.

By the end of the night, half the associates and their wives are drunk, including Madam Rossi. Though Lili has had the most alcohol of all of them, she is practically still sober, if a little sleepy.

Signor Vallone, one who had simply smoked cigars and not drunk at all, laughs heartily in the lobby as their cars are prepared.

“Looks can be deceiving, indeed!” he says, shaking Lili’s hand merrily, “I’ve never seen anyone drink Signor Di Lucca or Signora Rossi under the table like that. That was fine entertainment in of itself.”

Lili demurs, and one of the other wives—Signora Albanesi, who had simply enjoyed one glass of wine—steps forward to say her goodbyes as well.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, my dear,” she says warmly, “Perhaps next time, you will recommend us your favorite drink instead, yes?”

“Of course, Signora,” Lili says, smiling back.

Everyone splits with good-natured farewells, almost as though they were simply friends parting for the night and not partners linked by criminal activities. The atmosphere is markedly different than it had been at the beginning of the night—true approval is not so easy to earn, but Lili has certainly garnered the fondness of the group in the course of a few hours.

She snuggles against Dante in the car, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head. She tilts her face up for a proper kiss, and Dante chuckles before he obliges.

“You taste like whiskey,” he says, amused, “And I’m impressed, myself. I know you can outdrink me, but it’s something to be able to drink more than Signor Di Lucci and Signora Rossi.”

“I did enjoy the whiskey,” Lili admits, “And she just…kept pouring. I thought it would be rude to refuse. But I still like the white wine we drink together best.”

Dante smiles.

“Shall we open a bottle when we get home?” he teases, and Lili giggles.

“If you’d like. I think I can handle one more,” she says, meaning the bottle, and Dante laughs.

“I know you hate these kinds of functions, Dante,” Nicola says amiably one afternoon in Dante’s office, “But it’s important to keep up appearances sometimes, too.”

Dante sighs, thanking Lili as she sets down two slices of strawberry crostata and a cappuccino for him, as well as a single slice and an espresso for Nicola, who thanks her as well.

“I have far better things to do than to sit down and play card games for hours on end,” Dante grumbles, sipping at his coffee. The frustrated lines around his eyes soften for a moment as he drinks, but then he frowns again. “These guys are getting quite friendly.”

“They’re doing it for appearances too, of course,” Nicola replies reasonably, sipping his own espresso. “They’re politicians. But you’re right—they’re getting quite persistent, aren’t they? You do business with newbies once and they start getting too comfortable.” He pauses to take a bite of crostata. “They’re probably asking so often because they’re aware you hate gambling, too. They want to feel superior in some way or another, since you have the upper hand in all the other ways that matter.”

Dante sighs as he leans back in his seat.

“When?” he asks.

“Next Friday.”

Dante’s frown deepens.

“No. I have a meeting with lobbyists that day, and that takes priority over some politicians who want to play cards to boost their ego. Nicola, you go. You’ll have more fun, anyway.”

“Yes, Boss. But I will say—if you don’t show your face at least once, then they’ll only grow more persistent. It’s not me they want to see, even if I am your Underboss.”

Dante sighs deeply and says nothing else, choosing to focus on his dessert instead.

“Um…” Lili pipes up, having taken an armchair in the corner of the room with her own plate of crostata and a caffe latte. “Why don’t I go, then? With Nicola, that is.”

Dante and Nicola turn to look at her, blinking in surprise.

“It’s actually card games, right?” Lili asks, looking between them a little nervously, “That’s not code for anything?”

“It’s just card games,” Nicola confirms, “Though they might talk business, of course, and money will change hands one way or another.”

“I can play cards,” Lili continues, emboldened by the fact that neither have said no outright, “I could go with Nicola as a…I don’t know, additional representative. I know mafia wives don’t usually participate in such things, but…well, would it help?”

Nicola’s eyes are bright, having played cards with Lili before and knowing her skill firsthand. His lips curve into a wolfish grin, and he looks at Dante eagerly, who glances back at him with a raised brow.

“I don’t like it,” Dante says bluntly, but Lili simply waits, knowing that it comes from a place of concern.

It is also still not a refusal.

“I don’t know that it would help,” Nicola admits, “But it doesn’t mean nothing, either, that the Boss’ wife attends in his place. It would certainly be interesting—there’s no way they would complain at such a development because of that. And I think Lili could do very well.”

Lili smiles, and Nicola smiles back.

“I’d like to assist in any way I can,” Lili states resolutely, “After all, I’m part of the Family, too.”

Both Nicola and Lili look at Dante, just a little pleading, and eventually he sighs and relents.

“I don’t like it,” he repeats, looking at Lili, “But if you want to go, you can go. Nicola—”

“I’ll protect her with my life, Dante,” Nicola says, a hand over his heart, “I swear it.”

Dante sighs again, and finishes his crostata in resignation.

He’s not home when Nicola and Lili leave for the meeting, but he’s just arrived back for a few minutes when they return, merely a few feet away from the door when it opens again.

Nicola is laughing, and Lili looks a little embarrassed as she tells him he’s overreacting, but both light up when they see Dante walking back over to them.

“Dante!” Lili exclaims, hugging him in greeting. “Welcome back.”

“Hello,” he says, kissing her cheek, “I should be saying that to you. You’re both back earlier than I expected, though.”

He looks between Lili and Nicola, the latter whom is brushing a tear out of the corner of his eye from laughing so hard. Dante raises a brow, and Nicola grins, gesturing to the salon.

“Alright, what happened?” Dante asks, as Giulia goes to prepare refreshments.

“Go on,” Nicola says encouragingly to Lili, and she hesitates before she opens her pocketbook and drops a few hefty rolls of cash onto Dante’s lap.

His eyes widen.

“Dante, it was incredible,” Nicola practically crows, accepting a cup of coffee from Giulia, “I haven’t seen anyone hustled that much in a while. Those arrogant politicians…seeing their faces fall…it was magnificent. I don’t think they’ll be pestering the Falzones to attend their card table again so soon.”

Dante raises a brow, and Giulia stays to listen to Nicola retell the entire story in detail. Lili had simply played well—far better than anyone had truly expected. The young woman sips her coffee demurely throughout the tale, embarrassed still at Nicola’s praise and gleeful amusement.

“I wasn’t trying to…to hustle them!” she eventually protests, blushing.

“That’s what makes it even better,” Nicola says. “I know you said you’ve never lost at cards, but it is simply delightful to see someone else suffer the consequences.”

Lili sniffs, ducking her head, and Dante gives her an amused look.

“Anyway, that’s our politician problem solved for now,” Nicola hums, “After how much they lost, I think they’ll think twice about trying to get a leg up on the mafia.”

Dante folds his hands, thinking.

“On the contrary,” he says slowly, and Nicola’s eyes brighten as he immediately catches onto his thinking, “The next time they have a card game, I think we should all go. I’d like to see Lili play myself, and it never hurts to remind politicians just who they’re dealing with.”

Nicola starts laughing again, and Lili stares at Dante with her mouth slightly open.

“Good work today,” he says, smiling, and respectfully drops the money back into Lili’s lap.

To the victor, the spoils, after all.

If there is one thing that Lili truly hates still, it is the torture. But she is a mafia wife now and will not interrupt, though nor will she watch the proceedings. Sometimes she is left ignorant that it is happening at all, out of respect.

Yet in this too does she have her role.

Sometimes, for the ones that don’t crack even after hours in the cells but hold information important enough to keep trying, it’s Lili who goes to visit the prisoner afterwards. She goes alone, with medical supplies and water, tears spilling from her eyes. The better prisoners tend to think she is some angel. After some time, they confide in her, confessing their sins and regrets, and in time, the information they no longer consider worth their life.

Sometimes, they are even let go, after their threat is weighed and considered. The prisoners gape when they find out their angel is actually the Falzone Boss’ wife, and more often than not they will pledge their devotion to her—and thus the Falzones, for kindness is near nonexistent in the mafia. It is a double edged sword, in the criminal world, but it has its uses.

But sometimes, the prisoners truly have rot in their hearts. Those types see Lili as some stupid maid who doesn’t know better and isn’t worth anything. They attempt to take advantage of her kindness and body, lunging for her like the snakes they are as they spit the truth of what they’d done viciously, wanting to hurt her.

She’s quicker than she looks, flinging herself back with a little scream, and Dante and Nicola file in, always having waited outside.

Lili runs to her husband, burying her face in his chest as he holds her.

The prisoners are always surprised, but the terrible ones don’t always understand who she is quickly enough. They snarl and spit dirty words, but she is still the one who tended to them—they are speared by her gaze when she half turns and looks at them with her teary eyes, disappointed and damning.

“How could you?” she whispers after learning the depths of their sins, and that’s when they truly feel like scum.

Lili does not watch when the worst ones are executed, though she hears the screams anyway.

At night, despite knowing what occurred earlier, she wants Dante to touch her. He does, lips and fingers cool then hot on her body, reminding her what else he is capable of. He is good with his hands, and he is still the man she loves. Dante just a little apologetic that he cannot keep her away from all brutality, but he cannot be apologetic about the decisions he must make. Lili was never under any illusions when she married him—she just cannot help this sympathetic part of herself, even as she understands. Dante knows that, and loves her for it, too. There is a certain sense of gratitude he feels, when she asks to make love even after these situations, that she doesn’t feel disgust or shy away from him instead.

Dante, she whispers against his lips, Dante, I love you.

She is unbearably precious in his hands, flushed and adoring, just as he must look to her.

Lili, he murmurs back, Liliana, as I love you.

She sleeps peacefully in his arms after, nothing but affection between them, their limbs tangled with each other’s.

Dante counts his blessings, and presses her close.

A few years go by, and though everyone knows that Dante Falzone is married, not everyone has met the rumored Liliana Falzone. Though she does attend various functions and oversee some things in Dante’s stead, as a whole she is kept out of the spotlight, for both of their comforts.

Sometimes, however, people get to meet her in unexpected ways.

The new associate from outside the city Dante is meeting today is shocked when Lili arrives with him, looking angelic on his arm. She has an interest in the business he is offering, Dante says, with an indulgent smile at her, and the associate thinks that she looks like an easy target. Both the Falzone boss and his wife still look very young, and he must be an idiot to bring his wife to such a meeting.

And even more of an idiot to leave to take a call, not matter how supposedly urgent it is.

Signora Liliana smiles pleasantly and makes small talk, while the associate answers in a bored, dismissive manner. But after a while he realizes with a start that her questions are growing more pointed, and that she is probing into his boss, and his relation to a string of issues in Burlone that have resulted in the deaths of a handful of Falzone men.

The associate starts sweating, then rises from his seat, intending to bolt—

Only to freeze at the sound of a gun being cocked.

“Please, sit down,” Liliana says, still entirely amiable, “I’m not a very good shot, actually. I’ll mean for the wall and hit right between your eyes if I’m not careful, and I do so hate unnecessary bloodshed.”

The man slowly sits back down, trembling a little. Signora Falzone is not particularly intimidating in the traditional way, but it is that beautiful, gentle smile at odds with the weapon in her hand that is frightening in its own right. It is evident she is not bluffing, and that she knows perfectly well what she is doing.

Dante returns shortly, raising an eyebrow at the scenario before him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks lightly, though his eyes are entirely knowing as Lili puts her gun away.

She smiles beatifically at him.

“Yes, of course,” she says smoothly, gesturing for him to continue the meeting, “Everything is under control.”

Lili sets the bouquet down on the grave, then leans into Dante’s side. He puts an arm around her waist, tugging her a little closer for his own comfort. They stare at the names etched onto the stone for a while.

“Thank you,” Dante says, “For coming with me, every Wednesday.”

Lili puts a hand on his chest and leans up to press a brief kiss to his lips.

“I like to,” she protests, leaning her head against him. “I…would have liked to meet them, your parents.”

“They would have liked you,” Dante assures her, and Lili smiles again. “My mother in particular would have been delighted.”

“Oh?”

“How could she not be?” Dante chuckles, and Lili blushes a little. “And even though my father was not predisposed to show his feelings…he would have been very proud of you, Liliana.”

“Just as he would have been proud of you, Dante,” Lili replies.

They smile at each other, and share a brief kiss before they depart.

They opt for a walk through Falce before they return to the mansion, spending the last hours of the early morning in leisure. Around them, the district is starting to wake up; shopkeepers are coming out to flip their signs or set out their wares, men and women on their way to work or beginning their errands.

“Buongiorno!” they call, as Dante and Lili walk by arm-in-arm.

“Buongiono!” Lili greets back, as Dante nods in acknowledgement.

More and more people greet them as they continue down the streets, some of them making quick conversation with Lili. They do not linger due to Dante’s presence, and it is not that they ignore him either, but it is evident that Liliana is the one who has truly made their acquaintance, and whom they feel at ease with. She does not roam about as often anymore, so while she is not necessarily a rare sight, she is always a welcome one.

As the sun rises higher in the sky, shopkeepers call out to market their wares.

“Signora Falzone! I have freshly baked bread, come have a taste!”

“No, no, come look at my fresh fruits, Signora Falzone!”

“Signora Falzone, how about some flowers for the home?”

Lili demurs all of them with firm but good-natured ease, and Dante watches with amusement.

“Next time, perhaps. We really must get going,” she tells them all laughingly, and Dante inclines his head in polite farewell.

They go on their way, though the friendly calls and greetings continue; Signora Falzone permeates the air like a prayer.

Liliana walks on with her husband, as the streets of Falce hail the name she wears with ease.

#piofiore #piofiore no banshou #piofiore fated memories #dante falzone #liliana adornato #nicola francesca #fanfiction #i expect like two people at most to read this but i had such fun writing this!!!!!#nicola is my top fave but dante is a close second hehe

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wing-ed-thing · 4 years

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Fraternizing and Spineless (Kabuto x Reader, Part III)

Synopsis: Kabuto has a fixation and you sometimes apologize to inanimate objects. Ever since one fateful day, you’ve been drawn to each other from opposite sides of the battlefield.

Word Count: 1,987

Warnings/Tags: Shy!Reader, Slight!Iruka x Reader, Fem!Reader

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Finale

Notes: Bruh I just want to write Fraternizing and Spineless and never stop. IT’S GETTIN’ JUICY UP IN HERE.

@exquisitex113 @tiktoktheclockisticking

He told you that you didn’t have to go, in all sincerity. You looked into his deep brown eyes and sighed. He wouldn’t hold it against you if you decided you didn’t feel comfortable going, but you could feel the guilt already starting to creep up on you. And inwardly sighing, you knew exactly what you had to do.

“Yeah, of course I’ll go.” Iruka looked slightly taken aback. After all, it wasn’t too long ago since you had turned down his last invitation to go out, but this time was different.

“Are you sure?” He asked and your tired eyes met his, yielding.

“Yeah, I’m sure. What kind of friend would miss another friend’s birthday?” Iruka laughed nervously. You could tell from the expression he wore that he didn’t expect your answer. He reached up to scratch at the scruff of his neck. A few strands of hair fell from the back of his ponytail.

“You know I’m not trying to guilt trip you, you know?” He said, “I just didn’t want you to feel like I wasn’t including you.” You glanced down to the side before meeting his eyes again.

“Do you not want me to come?” You questioned softly, lips slightly puckered as your eyebrows wrinkled your forehead. Panic overtook Iruka as he looked into your wide eyes.

“No, no, no, no!” He waved his hands in front of his body defensively before one hand returned to the back of his head. “I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable, that’s all. And that you’re not feeling forced to go, ‘cause I know last time…” He trailed off. You bowed your head in understanding.

“I know what I said, but believe me, I’m happy to celebrate with you.” The corners of your lips tugged upward, subtly forced. “Besides, we keep saying how we never have a chance to catch up and how it’s been so long.” Iruka gave a slow nod, not completely convinced. You tried your best to give him a reassuring smile. “Really, it’ll be fine. I think it’ll be good for me.”

“If you say so.” Iruka let out a small laugh again. He had always been a nervous smiler. “I’ll see you there?”

“Sure thing.” You answered and both walked separate ways.

Once turned, you let a restrained shiver work its way down your spine. Anxiety followed you like a cloud hovering over your head. Not many people confronted you about the events that had happened a few months before, but you had also hardly left your apartment. You didn’t mind staying holed up inside with your extensive library, but now you were faced with what you feared most. You sighed, making your way up the steps of your building. You had no idea how you were going to handle this one.

Jiggling the knob of your modest studio, you were surprised to see that your stray cat of a companion wasn’t present. The window, per usual, remained open. You dropped your jacket on the small dining table before pulling open your wardrobe.

Of your options were neatly ironed uniforms lined up in an orderly line and practically nothing more. You looked down at the bottom. Work sanctioned shoes stared back at you. The room became a tinge darker. You closed the door, turning around to see Kabuto lounging on your bed. The comforter of your well made bed wrinkled under him. The curtains were drawn closed.

“I’m going out tonight.” You blurted. Kabuto blinked a few times, staring at you otherwise blankly.

“No hello?” He snorted. Your fingers interlaced in front of you and you nervously began to rock on your heels.

“I just wanted you to know, because I won’t be here to make dinner.”

Your voice jumped an octave, but you hardly noticed the shrillness of your voice. Kabuto’s face was untelling. He cocked his knee, resting his elbow against it as he leaned back. Your eyes darted to his eyes. You pursed your lips, diverting your attention to somewhere else in the room. He sighed, swinging his legs off of the bed and neatly placing his footwear next to your bedside table. Kabuto resumed his lounging position. You let out a breath, not noticing that you had been holding it. He reached down into the space where your bed met the wall and pulled out a book. A bookmark stuck out of the top, the piece of paper lodged quite a ways in.

Kabuto noticed your nervous staring.

“What?” He asked, eyebrows raised in a familiar amused but smug look. “You think I come here just for the free meal?” He cracked open his, well your, novel. You stood in the middle of the room, still and tense, still unsure generally of what you should be doing. Kabuto glanced up at you again. “Or is this about the shoes? Because I know you don’t like shoes on the bed and I knew you weren’t going to ask me-”

“I mean, uh, well…” As soon as his challenging eyes met yours, you promptly closed your mouth. Kabuto stuck a finger out at you, sitting up at the edge of your bed. You only stood a few feet away. His fingers held the pages of the book splayed open

“That.” He nearly spat. “That is what I’m talking about.”

“What?” The book closed with a thump. Kabuto propped a foot up on the side rail of your bed as he leaned forward.

“A little nerve would look good on you.” A burning grew at the center of your forehead.

“That’s not very nice.” You murmured, thumbs twiddling. Kabuto frowned.

“Is it? I suppose helpfulness isn’t always nice.” You couldn’t find it within you to convey the ugly feeling in your chest. You turned back to your wardrobe. The door opened with a pop. Kabuto shifted on your bed behind you. “It would be easier for you to handle this passively, but that’s not going to work, dear. I know that’s what you were hoping for.” You gulped, a violent shiver wracked your system. While spoken with little tact, you should be listening to him.

“Please don’t call me that.” You didn’t dare to face him. Your eyes clenched closed.

“That’s a good start, but keep talking like that and you’ll get torn to shreds, dear.” You stood, hand on the frame of the closet.

A silence. You stood pretending to analyze your collection (or lack thereof) of clothes, but your stare went right through any item that came into your focus. You could feel the peering eyes on your neck. Kabuto took a certain amount of pleasure in being silently right.

“I can tell that you don’t want me around right now, so I’ll leave you to your plans, m’kay Sweetheart?” You heard him climb through the window. “And, Dollface, just wear your uniform.”

The room lightened once again, leaving you alone and your made bed wrinkled.

***

Kabuto settled into the den. Really, the hideout was more of a lair rather than a den, but Kabuto always hated calling it a lair. Such a descriptive word felt far too comically sinister for his personal tastes, so he opted for a different word. Den.

Boredom plagued him as he aimlessly sorted through the lab, attempting to clear his mind with a bit of repetitive meniality. The workspace itself remained far from professional, but served as functional nonetheless. However, it’s dilettantish nature translated to more frequent upkeep. Kabuto wiped down the lab tables before refilling various jars of standard materials. By the time Orochimaru found him, Kabuto had almost finished cleaning all of the scalpels.

“Your toy unavailable to play today?” Orochimaru teased. Kabuto only muttered in response, focus still on the scalpels. Orochimaru crossed his arms as he let out an amused sigh. “My, my, I haven’t seen you this upset since-”

“I’m not upset.” Kabuto quickly snapped, intently fixated on scratching blood stains out of the groves of the tool’s handle. Orochimaru clicked his tongue.

“What? Playdate cancelled for today?” He came to sit on one of the lab tables. He leaned his head back against the sturdy fume hood and crossed his legs. A mischievous glint, normal for Orochimaru, gleaned in his eye. He smirked, biting back a laugh. “Have you met the parents yet?”

Kabuto huffed, carrying the scalpel holder back to it’s usual spot. Sliding the tray into the empty space, Kabuto sought out another task. Orochimaru leered, still expecting an answer. His surrogate son tried his best to concentrate on the maintenance of the stereomicroscope, but even Kabuto was not immune to Orochimaru’s eerie gaze. He huffed again.

“No, I haven’t.” Kabuto admitted, finding it easier to play the game in hopes that the other scientist would leave. It never worked in the past, but Kabtuo’s state of distraction left him vulnerable. Careless.

“And why’s that?” Orochimaru fully turned on the table, legs still crossed. Kabuto remained fixated on the stereomicroscope. His fingers danced delicately around the knobs.

“Because she doesn’t have any.”

“Really? That’s awfully sad.” The Sannin mused, “No family?”

“Nope.”

“No one close to her?”

“Nope.”

“No one who would miss her?”

And in that moment, Kabuto knew that he screwed up. Royally. He didn’t have to look at Orochimaru to know that a wicked grin had overtaken his lips. Kabuto hung his head, exasperated by his own carelessness.

“Not what I said.” He countered, attempting to return to his upkeep. Orochimaru drummed his fingers on the hard surface beneath him. “And I don’t like what you’re implying.” Orochimaru feigned disappointed shock.

“What sinister thing could I possibly be implying?” Kabuto arched an eyebrow.

“That’s funny, because I never mentioned anything about it being sinister.”

“Well, if she has no family and no one close to her-”

“She’s out with friends as we speak. Blood of the covenant, I don’t have to tell you that Lord Orochimaru.” Kabuto looked up from his work, eyes squinted with a certain fierceness painted in them. This wasn’t missed by the Sannin, who quickly took a mental note of it. Orochimaru pouted.

“I can’t meet your friends, Kabuto?” Kabuto tore himself away fully from the stereomicroscope, one finger flicking off the light with a snap. He studied his mentor carefully, an attempt at a prediction. He chose his words wisely.

“We’re not friends.” Orochimaru appeared utterly delighted.

“Then you wouldn’t mind bringing her here. I was simply fascinated the last time I saw her. Quite the interesting specimen if I do say so myself.”

“She’s not worth the materials we would use, Lord Orochimaru.” The Sannin hummed, coming down from his perch to lean against the counter next to his protégé. He grabbed his wrist, forcefully pinning it to the table. The skin around the grip had already begun to turn white.

“I suppose that’s why you seek this little friend of yours out every day, hm? You are like a son to me, so I do you a favor and tell you this; I don’t appreciate liars, Kabuto. You know that.” Venom coursed through his voice. “One little act of what could be considered kindness and you’ve let this low level Leaf thing leash and neuter you, my poor boy. Remember that you were the one who wanted to be somebody. Don’t get distracted now.” Kabuto scowled and pushed the equipment back into their spaces with his free hand.

“This is less out of concern and more of your want to study the Leaf girl’s healing capabilities.” An accusation. The hand around Kabuto’s wrist tightened and Orochimaru let out a deep chuckle.

“That’s funny,” He reiterated mockingly, “Because I never mentioned anything about her healing capabilities.” Kabuto tore his arm away.

“I’ll be turning in, now.” He retreated, trying to think of ways to salvage what he could from his mistakes.

Notes: I’m low key waiting for someone to be like “iTs a MiCrOsCoPe nOt a StErEoMicRoScoPe” to which imma be like “bruh I used one yesterday get outta heeee” then I proceed to dab which disturbs everyone within the tri-state area.

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

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smokedstorybara · 3 years

Text

I have so many bnha fanfic ideas, they’ve just been popping into my head every few days for weeks now

So I’m just gonna share them all on this one post instead of making a million new fandom posts out of nowhere (ok, it’s closer to, like, ten - but still!)

If any of y’all want me to actually write any of them, don’t hesitate to say so - or if you just want to ask questions and talk about the ideas I’d be totally down for that too

Also, if any of them inspire you to write or draw something, please send me a link when you’re done!

(under a readmore cause it’s long and also there’s spoilers)

Fae courts AU

Nedzu - Spring King

U.A. / The Spring Court - also known as the Court of Lost Children, all members of the Court were once human children or children of one of the other Courts and they view it as their duty to care for the lost, neglected, and abused children of the world (one of two child stealing Courts)

All Might - Summer King

All For One - Winter King

Objectively, the Summer and Winter Courts are not as different as they like to believe - a Summer fae is just as likely to trick or turn on you as a Winter fae, they just prefer to play at benevolence while Winter fae make no secret of their nature

Shie Hassaikai / The Autumn Court - used to be more like a lesser version of the Summer and Winter Courts, until Overhaul put the King to sleep and made his research into humanity the Court’s focus - they’re now the second child stealing Court

Eraserhead was once human but has made enough deals over the years - most notably with Nezu himself - that he’s practically fae now

Deku and Kachan are human children who were taken in by the Spring Court, though Deku only after catching the attention of All Might

Endeavor - High Fae in the Summer Court - wants to become Summer King but knows he’s not powerful enough to overthrow All Might, married a High Winter Fae in hopes that combining their powers would make one of their kids powerful enough

Dabi fakes his death and eventually becomes a High Fae in the Winter Court

Shouto seeks sanctuary in the Spring Court’s halls

(I don’t actually have a plot for it, but I’m enjoying figuring out the world and stuff)

Evil All Might AU

The underworld knows that young Yagi Toshinori is a con-artist, and a very good one

The kid’s quirkless, and from a bad neighborhood, so of course he gets involved in shady dealings to get by

But he never ever gets caught

See, he’s mastered the eager, innocent, “I know I’m quirkless, but it’s my dream to be a hero! To fight crime! To be someone people can look up to, put their faith in! To be a… a symbol!” act, he’s been running that con any time he’s found in the wrong place at the wrong time since he first started walking - no one with even a single good bone in their body ever questions it

He gets involved with AFO, who’s like “I could give you one of my lesser quirks in exchange for your loyalty, or you could do a long undercover mission for me and get one of the most powerful quirks in existence out of it”

His mission: pulling his signature con on Shimura Nana, being given One for All, becoming a hero, becoming the Number One Hero and Symbol of Peace and the singular pillar holding up hero society, maintaining that status for long enough that everyone grows a little complacent, finding a weak and manipulable child to pass One for All on to, setting them up to fail, and then retiring

(I’d either have this one be All Might-focused and end with the reveal, or have it be Izuku-focused and give it a happy ending where All Might totally chose the wrong kid, cause nothing about Izuku is weak)

Commission analyst Izuku au

Member of the commission overhears him muttering/catches a glance at his notebook while watching a hero fight, strikes up a conversation

The commission tracks him down, shows up at his home with a similar offer to the one they gave Hawks - but instead of a hero they want him to be an analyst for them

Like Hawks, they take away his name, only calling him something like Eagle Eye or something (I’d go with Hawkeye but Hawks already exists so it might be weird?)

(Basically this fic idea is just an excuse to have Izuku and Hawks as the ultimate team, and helping each other get out from under the commission’s thumb - maybe revolutionizing hero society along the way)

Canon rewrite w/ Monoma as main character, somehow

All I have for this one so far is just:

Monoma copies afo, uses copied afo to steal afo, AFO is now defeated

After getting better at controlling her quirk, Eri rewinds Kurogiri back into Shirakumo Oboro

But he’s the age he was when he died

So he joins the current class 2-A

As in Izuku’s class

Basically it’s just his old best friends having to teach him and him making friends with all Aizawa’s problem children

Time travel

(I have multiple cause I really like time travel)

Aizawa-centric time loop fic

Loop stretching from day before Oboro’s death to towards the end of the liberation war (diverging from canon in at least the first loop cause he fucking dies during the fight)

At first he thinks maybe he just, like, dreamt up those 14(?) years

But then things are happening the same way and so he starts changing things and he dies and wakes up the day before Oboro’s death again

He experiments a lot with the loops, figuring out that they’re definitely not time based - unless it’d loop back at the end of the liberation war even if he survives? Requires further testing

Details he changes throughout the loops (culminating in a loop in which he successfully changes all of them):

Oboro’s death

Shimura Tenko being taken in by All for One, All Might’s injury(?), Izuku accepting One for All, and more I haven’t fully decided on

Time travel fic where Pro Hero Deku accidentally time travels back to just before Aizawa’s first year as a student at ua and somehow gets hired as a teacher

Gonna be a two-parter

Part one: Izuku has to teach teen versions of his old high school teachers, channels their future selves a little

Part two: Aizawa, Yamada, and Kayama have to teach the teen version of their old favorite high school teacher, and end up channeling his future self - in different ways

(I’ve come across a couple different “Izuku gets accidentally sent back in time to when his teachers were students” fanfics and they keep making me think about how Aizawa & co would react to meeting him in canon timeline after meeting him in high school and then I took the natural step forward from there to “let’s parallel their nostalgia, make him their high school teacher so it can really hit hard”)

Izuku is related to rooftop trio aus

(I’ve come across a bunch of “Izuku is the biological son of at least one member of the rooftop trio” aus but only one acknowledges that in canon he’s only 15 years younger than them and that one has a very angsty explanation, so I wanted some that fit with canon and also aren’t too heavy - cause like, sure you could go with the complex extremely angsty trauma reason or you could go with the “these 13-16-year-olds(idk Inko’s canon age and as long as I never look it up I can pretend I’m not going against canon by making her only 2-ish years older than them) did what teenagers do and went to a party and made some relatively innocent mistakes and ended up with a pregnancy”)

Dadoro

Oboro and Inko have been neighbors and best friends their whole childhood, despite being a couple years separated in age

The fall before Oboro starts high school, Inko takes him along to a party with her high school friends

They get drunk and sleep together

Inko gets pregnant

They talk it through with each other and their families and agree to keep the baby (they’re both actually pretty excited to be parents) and raise it together platonically

Some months into first year (maybe second), Oboro tells his friends about his kid

Spends the rest of his life gushing about Izuku to all his friends (sorry for the word choice fjdhshshx)

Oboro dies and his friends make pact to help Inko take care of Izuku once they have steady income and stuff

But Inko’s family has moved and she’s married and they can’t find her

They keep searching, for roughly 14 years

And then Midoriya Izuku enrolls in UA’s hero course and his big green eyes and curly green hair match the pictures Oboro used to show them and his smile is identical to their old friend’s

And his mom’s name is Inko

But they’re not sure (His quirk doesn’t match Oboro’s nor his Inko’s after all)

Not until after the first term and the summer training disaster camp and Kamino, when All Might and Aizawa go house to house talking to parents about the dorms and All Might tries to insist on visiting the Midoriyas alone but Aizawa insists right back cause this is the closest he’s come to confirmation

and then he’s face to face with a woman he’s only ever seen in photographs

And then they talk about everything or something idk I haven’t got that far

Dadzawa and Dadmic (trans!aizawa)

A year and a half before he starts high school(I know I changed the timeline a whole year here but shush, how’s he supposed to get into U.A.’s hero course while pregnant?), Aizawa’s middle school and one or two others have a Joint Event, at which he meets a loud but cute blonde who keeps flirting with him

They hook up

He gets pregnant

His dad insists he get an abortion but he doesn’t want to and his mom supports his decision, they convince his dad to let him go through with the pregnancy on the condition that he gives the baby up for adoption immediately

He has twins, both boys (one with green eyes like the blonde’s(but darker) and the other with purple like Shouta’s mother’s)(that’s right, Shinsou is also their son in this, you’re welcome), and he gives them up for adoption to separate families

But with conditions

No one from his blood family is allowed to initiate contact with either boy without the kid’s knowing consent (he’s terrified of his father changing his mind, tracking them down, and hurting them)

With the one exception being that he’s allowed to send each one a birthday present and card every year

Which he does

Then he starts at UA and then gets into the hero course and there he is… the blonde… the father of Shouta’s children… who does not recognize him now that he’s started transitioning

This time Shouta’s the one who flirts - or tries to, the kid’s a little too oblivious

Of course they do eventually get together, and even end up married! (Haven’t decided if they get together during high school or after they start teaching there or what(probably the latter, for plot reasons))

The first time Midoriya Inko contacts Shouta is after Izuku is diagnosed quirkless - she knows the young man loves her son as much as she does and might be able to reassure him where she already failed

His next birthday, Izuku’s mystery card says he can be a hero even without a quirk; it makes Izuku’s year

Hitoshi’s parents also contact Shouta that year, the boy struggling to make and keep friends ever since his quirk came in; Shouta’s birthday card to him isn’t much different from Izuku’s, really

The Shinsous get in an accident and Hitoshi is placed in foster care and suddenly Shouta can’t send him his yearly gift and card anymore cause nobody will tell him where the boy is now because of the contact portion of the adoption contract

They also won’t tell Hitoshi that he was adopted and his birth father is out there looking for him, so Shouta’s pretty sure they’re trying to hide that he’s being mistreated wherever he is

Inko continues to contact Shouta now and then whenever she thinks Izuku will need extra encouragement come his birthday (she never tells Izuku about being adopted - even after he enters his teen years - cause after his diagnosis, everyone but her left him and she doesn’t want him to internalize the idea that his birth parents didn’t want him - Shouta’s not happy with the decision, but he understands)

Then one year he sends Izuku a Present Mic figurine and she writes him to share how excited the boy was and how Present Mic is one of his favorite heroes and he listens to his radio show all the time and Shouta simultaneously melts and has a minor breakdown at the realization that he hasn’t told his husband that they have sons, he can’t tell Hizashi that their son listens to his radio show regularly when Hizashi doesn’t know Izuku even exists

So of course, being the rational man he is, he finally tells Hizashi about Izuku and Hitoshi

Hizashi freaks, of course (in a good way(mostly))

And then, one of the worst days of Shouta’s life

He’s on patrol and sees a figure on a rooftop and rushes to get there - just in case it’s a jumper - and it’s his son, his Izuku

They talk(it doesn’t breach the adoption contract, he didn’t know it was Izuku when he approached and the kid spoke first) and Izuku tells him “everything” about his encounter with All Might, Shouta tells him to tell his parents - they’re there to support him - and also that All Might’s full of shit and a quirkless hero is totally possible with the right training and enough willpower

Then after they leave the rooftop his kid gets in trouble again, rushing in to save a classmate from the same sludge villain that attacked him earlier that day

Of course Shouta swoops in and pulls the kids out of danger before All Might arrives to “save the day”

This time Shouta insists on walking Izuku home to make sure he actually gets there safely

But then All Might shows up again wanting to talk to his kid privately and he wants to tell the man to fuck off but he’s not legally allowed, really, so when Izuku says it’s fine he reluctantly leaves

Inko asks to meet him just days later

She tells him that Izuku told her everything about what happened that day - including what Shouta told him - and she tells him that she’s realized she needs to properly support her son in pursuing his dream

She understands that Shouta wouldn’t feel comfortable training him one-on-one with the kid not knowing who they are to each other, and she’s still not ready to tell him yet, so she asks for a list, for him to help her get in touch with people who can train Izuku or ways for Izuku to train on his own, ways for her to help

He puts her in contact with seven pro heroes (Midnight, Gunhead, the Wild Wild Pussycats, and - somehow - Sir Nighteye) and a vigilante team (the Naruhata Crawler and his team), all of whom he talks into helping - and has to tell about his connection to this boy they’ll be teaching

(Each have something important to teach him: Midnight - using words and body language to throw off opponents, Gunhead - martial arts, Wild Wild Pussycats - stamina, teamwork and use of your environment when out in nature, Sir Nighteye - analysis and planning, the Naruhata Vigilantes - use of gadgets and weapons, use of your environment when in the city, having the heart of a hero, and - most importantly - that quirkless people can be fucking strong and skilled and terrifying and certainly aren’t weak or useless (they were trained by a quirkless vigilante after all, they’re bound to have a different perspective on the idea of a quirkless hero than anyone else, a perspective Izuku could really benefit from))

Ten months later, Izuku passes UA’s entrance exam and is placed in Shouta’s class (he’s pretty sure Nezu did that on purpose)

When the school year starts, he and Hizashi discover that Izuku isn’t the only one in one of their classes - Hitoshi is in Hizashi’s homeroom

They are, of course, fucking extatic

They just need to, y’know, figure out how to tell him that they’re his parents and maybe possibly would love custody of him if he wants

(Again I haven’t gotten any further than that yet)

(Also, if you can’t tell, in this au Izuku turns down All Might’s offer of One for All, cause Eraserhead said he could be a hero without a quirk and was honestly a lot kinder and more responsible (like, making sure the kid got home safely instead of leaving him on a roof) and stuff than All Might and honestly might be his new favorite hero)

#bnha #mha #midoriya izuku #all might #aizawa shouta #shirakumo oboro #monoma neito #yamada hizashi

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Attached - Pt.3

Words of Filth

Type: (mini)-series, college AU, professor AU (technically)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 4200

Summary: Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

The words that started it all. Your dirty fantasy that was never supposed to see the light of day, let alone be read by Professor Barnes or Rogers. Why couldn’t you at least go with less obvious professor name?

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut and a bit of filth, hints of dom/sub, oral (male receiving), cock warming, unprotected sex, use of the term ‘babygirl’, praise kink, professor kink (kinda?), brief mention of cumplay, potential age gap (? age not specified; just assumed), swearing (always)

A/N: Special thanks to @kayteewritessteve who read over this chapter and convinced me that it’s okay to post it despite my numerous doubts. She was being her amazing self about it, naturally, and I lowkey fell in

A/N.2: Miss Clark is ‘reader’s’ alter ego in the story she wrote

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You knew that what you were about to do was risky – but hell, you needed to try. Chances were that it wouldn’t even go that far; Professor Roberts was a respected scholar and just because he was the object of your dirty fantasies, it didn’t mean he would treat your request that way. Though the lingering gazes exchanged in the class told you that it might be exactly the case.

He invited you in instantly after you knocked, smiling slightly from behind his desk as he welcomed you and beckoned you to take a seat, scribbling some note on the paper he had been reading through before you entered.

With your teeth worrying over your red-painted lips, you hesitantly obeyed, dropping your backpack by the chair, adjusting your black pencil skirt.

Professor Roberts pouted slightly, pink lips peeking through his absolutely glorious beard and you decided to use the opportunity of his attention being elsewhere to feast your eyes on him. On his sharp jawline softened by the neatly trimmed beard, on his long eyelashes framing his gorgeous blues, on his dark blonde hair combed to side giving him an aura of a serious man, a gentleman from another time.

Your gaze travelled down his neck and arm – he was wearing one of the cardigans you loved on him just making the image in front of you downright panties-dropping –, stopping at the hand he was holding his pen with, still writing whatever complicated thought had been in his head. Seeing his long fingers, you had to close your eyes, your mind instantly filled with unholy images of where these fingers could go.

You had walked in ready to do whatever was necessary to earn your missing credit, but the truth was that should he ask a particular kind of favour, you’d feel blessed and very happy to oblige. Professor Roberts, to put it simply, was sex on legs – long legs emphasized by the dress pants with slightly higher waist he had a habit of wearing – and you would object to very few of things he might suggest.

“Now, Miss Clark, I understand we had some trouble with your final test. It did not paint you in the best light,” he started finally and you snapped your eyes open, trying your best to ignore the surge of desire when your name rolled off of his tongue so easily as if he was saying it every day… whispering it to your ear, groaning it as he-

“Y-yes, Professor. My nerves, unfortunately, got better of me,” you explained softly, looking into his eyes, feeling your stomach twist. God, his eyes.

“Interesting. From what I saw during my classes, you never seemed to be the studying type in the first place… did you study for the test at all? Honestly, please.”

You gulped, unable to hold his gaze. You shook your head and he sighed, leaning his elbows on the desk.

“That is that I was afraid of. Miss Clark, when you do pay attention in my class, you even display a great capacity for seeing matters in a different light, from unusual angles, posing questions that make me wonder too. That is a very precious quality to possess,” he complimented you unexpectedly, and the surprise of it caused your eyes to meet his, intense blue burning – and for the first time, you discovered a drop of green in them, making your heart nearly stop.

Who gave him the damn right to be so hot and be a professor? How was one supposed to focus in the class in the first place with this specimen standing at the front?

You gulped, realizing you should probably express gratitude.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Professor Roberts nodded contentedly that his message was received.

“However, it is not enough.”

“Is there any chance at all that I might earn the credit?” you asked, defeatedly at first sight, slightly suggestively if he dared to truly look.

His back straightened a bit, his already square shoulders growing in size.

“There might be. I don’t usually give second chances, but for you, I might make an exception,” he hummed thoughtfully. “But I truly need to see some effort on your part, Miss Clark. Are you willing to put effort into your work?”

You licked your lips, the fact that his eyes followed the movement before swiftly returning to meet your gaze not escaping your notice.

There was hope after all.

Slowly rising to your feet, feeling almost shocking slickness between your legs at the prospect of pleasing him in any way he asked, you stood up by his desk, determined.

“I am willing to work very hard, Professor Roberts,” you declared, swallowing your jitters and holding his gaze.

A sweet smile spread on his lips, a plush temptation framed by his well-kept facial hair.

“I am pleased to hear that. How do you suggest you show me your genuine endeavour to earn your credit?”

This time without hesitation, you walked around the table, not averting his gaze once. He spun in the chair so his whole body faced you, his head tilted to side, a smile still playing in the corner of his lips. His eyes grew considerably darker and it only added to the heat in your abdomen. He wanted you too.

You unbuttoned the top of your blouse just to show a bit more cleavage than was considered polite.

“Like you said. I am willing to put a lot of effort into… my work.”

Without any verbal response on his part, he moved the chair a bit backwards and spun back to the table again, leaving just enough space for you to fit there.

“I am glad we have an understanding. Unfortunately, I need to grade these papers. I believe we will have to be multitasking.”

You nodded, falling to your knees and moving to fit between the desk and him, right between his legs. You would be ashamed for the saliva already pooling in your mouth, but he was such a fine man that you couldn’t even try to deny that you in fact wanted to do this.

Silently undoing the buckle on his leather belt – and Christ, was the item giving you ideas – you unzipped his pants and slid them a bit lower with his help.

He shifted in the chair when you looked up at him, one of your hands reaching out and palming his growing erection. You shuddered at the sensation of his warmth on your skin and you knew he noticed. Something flashed in his eyes, but he turned his attention to the papers on his desk, seemingly unbothered by your actions.

He grew perfectly hard in your hand quickly and you freed him from his boxers, revelling at the sight of his erect cock as much as feeling slight worry about being able to handle such a challenge. You had felt him in your hand obviously, but seeing him fully ready, quite big and thick and majestic dare to say, you couldn’t but gulp, already feeling your throat burning.

Smearing the precum forming at the tip, you stroked him several times before taking an inch between your lips.

For a briefest moment, it dawned to you that perhaps you should feel dirty for doing this – but you didn’t. All you felt was need and desire – and if the feeling was mutual, then no matter the power imbalance in play, you couldn’t make yourself feel bad about it.

Not when you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, tasting him, and one of his hands slipped into your hair, encouraging you with a sigh. You sucked lightly before moving on, swallowing more of him and using your hands – one you laid on his thigh for the time being, the other wrapping around his neglected member.

You sucked again and bobbed your head, earning a hiss and a gentle pull on your hair. Not ceasing your movements, you raised your gaze to peek at his face; his jaw clenched, his eyes met yours and you felt him twitch in your mouth, the grip on your hair tightening.

“You look so pretty like that, with my cock in your mouth,” he praised, sending a fresh wave of warmth to your underwear, his appreciation causing your stomach to clench pleasantly. Encouraged, you took more of him and hollowed your cheeks. “Ah, shit- this feels-- you’re doing so good-“

Your hand nearly slipped and went straight to your underwear when he cursed – the nice collected professor falling apart under your hands and mouth, under your spell, that was a turn-on you hadn’t expected. The prove of your power over him was overwhelming as you tasted more of his precum on your tongue, eagerly licking at his shaft, exploring the weight of him, causing his hips to jerk forward.

“Ah, sweetheart-“ he groaned, losing all pretence that he was doing anything but relishing the heat and slickness of your mouth, his irises blown wide as he cupped your jaw with his other hand. You shuddered at both the movement and the pet name sounding so sweet and breathy on his lips.

You hollowed your cheeks again, but to your surprise, he used the grip on you to pull out with a wet pop, drops of drool staining his black pants. Before you could swallow both your saliva and disappointment and ask what you had done wrong, he lifted your chin up, the pad of his thumb brushing your swelled lower lip and the smeared lipstick on it.

Your hurt at his interruption, baffling as he had appeared to be enjoying himself, must have shown on your face, because for a second, something kind appeared in his eyes.

“You were doing great, babygirl, but this isn’t going to work,” he explained gently and his free hand slipped under your arm, hauling you up. “In fact, you were too good, too distracting.”

Reassured and yet confused, you followed his direction and scrambled to your feet. God, that pet name. Babygirl, spoken so softly with an edge of a raspy desire… your panties had been sufficiently ruined already and now... you were sure you must have been dripping down your thighs at this point.

As if he could hear your thoughts, his gaze fell under the cut of your skirt and he frowned, his fingers moving to the redness of your knees.

“And look at that, hurting your knees like that,” he lamented, his gaze trailing up higher along with his hand, solid warmth moving up your inner thigh under your pencil skirt. His eyes flickered up to yours, a wicked smile that caused your heart to beat its way out of your chest painting his lips. “Can’t have you hurting like this, babygirl, less so when you’re wearing a skirt.”

His thumb swept at the sensitive skin of the junction of your thigh and sex and then disappeared altogether, allowing you to release the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. He tugged at your skirt then, his eyes sparkling.

“Off with this. Come sit with me.”

Sit with- oh. OH.

Your thighs clenched at the premise, your walls quivering when you imagined the fulness he would offer.

He raised an expectant eyebrow, challenging even, and you swiftly moved your fingers to undo the zipper on the back of your skirt, allowing the black material pool at your feet. Roberts spared your lower half an appreciative glance, his cock still standing at attention as you raised your leg to try and balance yourself on his chair.

He watched you hungrily through half-lidded eyes, his tongue darting to wet his pink lips, no doubt so soft in contrast to his rough beard. God, what you wouldn’t give to feel that beard and tongue between your thighs… but his thigh would do too, god, you’d ride it into sunset… or better yet, his cock.

“That’s it, get up here, make yourself comfortable,” he instructed you, placing his wide palms on the back of your thighs as you positioned yourself above him, probably looking awkward as you realized you should have discard your underwear as well.

One of his fingers traced your soaked panties, teasing your entrance, causing your breath to hitch, before a satisfied smile appeared on his lips, pushing the useless material aside.

“So pretty and ready for me, sweetheart,” he praised you again in husky voice, guiding you down to sit on his cock and you couldn’t stop the needy mewling sound erupting from your throat when the head of his thick cock nudged at your weeping cunt, stretching you beyond imaginable.

You could feel his heated gaze on you, revelling at how good he made you feel, how he made you crave his cock. A sigh escaped his parted lips as you descended, feeling every inch of him you took deep within your core, so good, but a little too much, the stretch leaving a considerable burn behind.

“Careful now, don’t hurt yourself, babygirl…. God, you’re so tight-- so wet and warm for me, what a good girl,” he hummed, his hands kneading your ass when you finally seated yourself, so full you could cry, and you whimpered at the words falling from his lips, sparking something inside you which you forgot you lived for. You wanted to be such a good girl for him, just to hear him say it. “Comfortable? Because I need you to sit still until I finish these… can’t have you distracting me wiggling around, sweetheart...”

You gulped, shifting just once to adjust to his length and thickness, causing both of you to moan in pleasure.

“I said sit still, babygirl, I have work to finish,” he rasped into your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth and your core pulsated at the sensation, sending a shiver down your spine.

You were sitting on top of the most attractive man you ever met, his cock buried inside you and you were supposed to not to move? This was fucking torture.

It was like placing your favourite dessert in front of you, close enough for you to smell it, almost taste it on your tongue, but forbidding you to dig in. Worst even.

“Yes, Professor Rogers,” you whispered, feeling his smile against your neck and then the warmth of his breath disappeared from your skin and he indeed went to grade the damn papers.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you put all of your willpower into not moving a muscle, breathing through the sweet torturous sensation. Your mind wandered, images of him fucking you once he finished his stupid work and you felt yourself clench around him on occasion, earning a gruff warning each time.

You had no clue how much time had passed, but it felt like forever before he put his pen down, moving his hands to the back of your thighs, his lips catching the corner of your mouth, his beard scratching your skin pleasantly. You chased after his mouth on instinct and he chuckled, squeezing your flesh, causing your eyes to snap open.

His pupils were blown impossibly wide, only leaving a thin ring of blue for you to see. You could have drowned in it anyway.

“What a good girl you were, being almost still for me…” he hummed, sounding pleased, the praise going straight to your pussy, his hips snapping up to thrust deeper inside you, making you wince in pain and mewl in pleasure. “Let’s move this somewhere else.”

Before you even had a chance to react, he hauled you up in his arms and you instinctively grabbed at his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist, the display of strength making you dizzy with desire, the sensation of his flexed muscles under your palms only feeding the flame in your core.

You would let him do anything to you at that moment. Fuck you against a wall, hold you down, tie you up, anything. Just so he let you come because you were this close to reaching the point of insanity. The anticipation was killing you.

He walked you to the couch; it was a miracle that your foot hooked in his pants, preventing him from stepping on the fabric and sending you both to the ground. If that was a miracle though, then the head of his cock hitting just the right spot, as he seated you both on the much more comfortable and stable couch, was divine.

“Oh my God-“ you breathed out, your head falling back and his hand moved to your throat, fingers wrapping around it indulgingly in almost a caress, a stark contrast to the rough thrust of his hips up which hit that spot again.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbled and then his mouth was on yours, dirty kiss with tongues tangling together, your imagination supplying you with how it would feel in your pussy and you whined into his mouth, nails scratching at his biceps over the cardigan, his own gripping your ass and nape. He withdrew abruptly, leaving you breathless and needing more. “Now show me some real work, babygirl. Ride my cock, take what you need.”

The words struck you like a lightning in your veins, your walls quivering at his request alone. Without needing to be told twice, you gripped his shoulders to brace yourself and begun to fuck yourself on that magnificent cock of his, finding the exact spot you craved to have stimulated.

You could feel him watching you with a grin, broken at the edges with his own pleasure as you rode him, his hands kneading your ass, your breaths over the material of your blouse and bra, clumsy fingers undoing the buttons and slipping it from your shoulders, unclasping the hooks of the last fabric in his way.

“God, such a good girl, so needy, so desperate for my cock- fuck,” he groaned when you undulated your hips in a new way, his fingers suddenly digging into your flesh, your muscles cramping from the strain, but you couldn’t stop, not when you were so close, you had to-- you needed to- “Come for me pretty girl, come on-“

When his fingers moved to dance over your clit, you lost it. You cried out as you felt apart, heat surging through your body, your cunt clenching around his length, sending fresh waves of pleasure into your system. The cramps in your thighs were long forgotten as you rode it out, his finger never ceasing its motions, playing with your clit and sanity.

And then his hand was gone, tearing your panties loose, grabbing you by your hips and thrusting forward, dragging his cock along your oversensitive walls. You winced, gasping at the almost painful sensation. Instinctively, you straightened your elbows, trying to get away, but his hold on you only grew firmer, guiding you to meet his movements.

You felt something in your abdomen twist, a strange sensation, too intense yet pleasant, your arms going limp, uncertain if you wanted to resist it or ask for more. You struggled to remember your own name as he hit a new spot inside you, causing you to see stars, your knees to wobble, your breath to stuck in your lungs.

Too much, this was too much-

“Prof-professor-“ you choked out, once again attempting to get away from the overwhelming knot in your abdomen and his dark eyes met yours, glassy and determined, a wicked greedy glint in them. You realized what he wanted, but you- “I’ve never-- I-I can’t-“

“Oh you can, sweetheart, I know you can,” he opposed in hoarse voice, his cock swelling in you, a breathy sound escaping your mouth at the feeling of insane fulness. His gaze fell on your breasts, bouncing with each snap of his hips and then it moved lower, your own unable to resist and take a peek. You both watched his cock driving into you, glistening with your juices, some running down your thighs.

“Ah, shit, you feel so- look at that, taking my cock so well-“ he muttered, dazzled, and you felt yourself clench around him, causing him to throw his head back. “So wet, squeezing me so tight. You gonna come again? Make a mess for me like the good girl you are?”

You whined, feeling yourself on the verge of something unknown and amazing as his movements got sloppy, his rhythm broken, the wet sound and skin slapping skin filling your ears like cotton, making you deaf to the world around you.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded and you shook your head automatically, just knowing you couldn’t take anything more than this. “Want you to squirt for me, babygirl. Touch that pretty clit for me, right now.”

He worked you like an instrument, one he knew how to play better than yourself. You obeyed with a deep inhale and felt yourself explode with only few circling motions of your finger, vision turning white with searing pleasure, a cry ripped from your throat, core clenching in a steely grip around his length. You barely felt his cum coating your inner walls, too busy fighting for air, for a grasp on any semblance of reality in this heaven and hell aligned.

Your whole body was floating, the pressure in your core slowly easing as you breathed, a distant sensation of fingers threading through your hair.

When your eyes fluttered open, you felt a stray tear running down your cheek, your gaze meeting with an adoring and very much self-satisfied pair of green-blue eyes.

“Told you you could do it,” he whispered, catching the drop of salt water on your skin, his thumb brushing your lips, automatically falling open to take it in.

A grin spread on his lips at that and he pulled out, the warm wetness running down your thighs instantly catching your attention and making you shiver in aftershocks. You could already feel the soreness that would follow you for days, but it was nothing in comparison to the sensation of his fingers tracing your mixed juices on your skin, almost as if painting a picture, a filthy piece of art.

“How long is that skirt of yours, babygirl?” he ruminated, rendering you speechless as his finger left a wet trail down your thigh, stopping just where you knew the hem of your skirt would be. “How far can I go without people noticing what you’ve been you up to, hm?”

Christ, you couldn’t breathe in properly, almost shocked at the fresh wave of desire that surged through you. You went nearly blind with pleasure just minutes ago and your pussy was so fucked out you wouldn’t be able to walk straight, but God, would you let him ravish you all over again. Who knew that Professor Roberts was made of pure filth?

As if wanting to contradict the impression he left – or confirm it – he framed your face with his palms and took your mouth with his in a kiss you felt in your very soul, dirty, but full of unspoken words you could wonder about once your mind cleared enough to form actual thoughts.

He slowly urged you to stand up then, knees wobbly, skin sticky with sweat and proves of pleasure, hair sticking to the back of your neck and your forehead from your efforts. The useless piece of fabric – not in shreds but beyond repair – slid down your legs and you shakily walked to where you discarded your skirt, barely able to slip in on. Your bra was next, then your blouse. Your panties dangled from his finger before landing on his desk, a clear sign that you wouldn’t be wearing them anymore.

Professor Roberts already stood up and made himself presentable, even with a small patch of dampness on his dress pants and a barely-there flush to his face; you could only imagine what a sight you made, sweaty, your make-up running. Grinning at you, he handed you a wet wipe.

You automatically went to bend over to clean the mess you both made, but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

“That’s for your make-up, sweetheart,” he informed you gently, a twinkle in his eye, and you could feel heat rising to your cheeks, your core clenching around nothing once more.

Oh, he’s serious about that. He really wanted you to walk back to your apartment with cum running down your thighs. Well then.

“Of-of course. I’m sorry, Professor,” you stuttered a sweet apology, doing some guesswork as you fixed your face best as you could without a mirror. He gave you a gracious smile, handing you your backpack, tugging a loose strand of your damp hair behind your ear, almost tenderly. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. However, your work isn’t entirely done.” Your heart stopped. What did that mean? “We need to make sure you will start working more consistently. How about you come here next week at the same time?”

A relieved smile found its way to your face, the prospect of this repeating sending a surge of arousal through your veins. You nodded and headed for the door – an unlocked door, you realized for the first time, your heart jumping when you imagined the possible consequences of your sloppiness.

Was it fear of excitement you felt? You couldn’t even tell anymore.

“And Miss Clark?” Professor Roberts called out lowly, causing you to stop in your tracks and look at him. He beckoned to the piece of fabric on his desk. “I don’t want anything in my way next time. We have an understanding, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Professor Roberts.”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Part 4

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

This was way WAY out of my area of expertise and I had no clue what I was doing. So I just hope liked it at least a bit. It got a bit filthy but there was still a tiny piece of sweetness maybe, because it’s me? I don’t even know anymore.

Feedback appreciated, but gosh, please don’t be too harsh, my soul is fragile and condemned to go to hell after writing this. Good news is, I might meet Professor Barnes there, so it’s not entirely bad.

Thank you for reading!

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

If anyone wants on the taglist or out, lemme know via DM or an ask :)

Tags:

@scentedsongrebel @patzammit @donutloverxo @annathesillyfriend @orions-nebula @iheartsebastianstan @wxstedhexrt @kayteewritessteve, @pies-writes-and-more, @jessyballet, @chris-evans-indian-fanfic, @marvel-madness, @rainbowkisses31, @marvelous-capsicle, @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater, @thisartemisnevermisses

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sleepy-exe · 3 years

Text

Shapeshifter AU - 9

Iwaizumi x f!reader

<< Part 8 | Part 10 >>

Summary: The morning after Iwaizumi found out about shapeshifters. Y/n tries to play it cool. Iwaizumi gets to see into part of her world.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: none, fluff

Genre: sfw (18+ regardless), shapeshifter au, strangers to lovers

a/n: Ahhhh this is so late. The next two parts are almost ready at least. Haha..

Part 9: Walls Will Fall

Y/n woke up in her bed at home, alone as usual. Not long after her and Iwaizumi’s shapeshifter discussion, she had to head home to get ready for work later that morning. She had today off though, so she could clear her head from yesterday’s events, and she hoped to hear from Iwaizumi. He had texted her once that evening after he got home from his own job, not that he’d planned to come over. He still didn’t know exactly where she lived anyway. Regardless, he normally says more even if he doesn’t seem to text much. She hoped he wasn’t scared off.

>> To ‘zumi’: “good morning~”

She immediately cursed herself realizing she majorly slept in. It’s far from morning now. She stretched while sitting in bed for a moment before heading to her master bathroom. Her phone chimed as she stepped foot on the tiled floor, so she ran back to grab the phone she had left behind before heading to do her morning routine. She checked her notifications while grabbing an elastic to push any baby hairs out of her face. He texted back already. She sighed in relief; having wondered if he’d answer at all.

>> From ‘zumi’: “morning? Dont tell me you just woke up”

>> From ‘zumi’: “y/n it’s 1pm”

She smiled to herself. At least she didn’t get a one word reply. He can’t be completely avoiding her then, right?

>> To ‘zumi’: “course not i meant afternoon lol”

>> From ‘zumi’: “you totally just woke up”

She admitted defeat in silence and headed for the shower. During her shower and the rest of her morning ritual, she heard several dings from her phone but ignored them.

Exiting the en suite, she tossed her phone onto the bed before walking to the kitchen completely naked. The joys of living alone. She grabbed a water bottle from her fridge and checked the cat’s bowls before returning to her bed, water in hand.

She swapped the bottle for her phone, plopping down on the foot of the bed with a light bounce. There were various app notifications that she ignored and texts from a few friends, which she also ignored. For now. She’s not a bad friend for that, right?

But below her friends’ texts was another text from Iwaizumi, and she clicked it. She’s definitely going to reply to her other two friends very soon.

>> From ‘zumi’: “no reply makes it sound like I was right”

>> To ‘zumi’: “maybe I was busy all morning”

>> From ‘zumi’: “I thought you had the day off”

>> To ‘zumi’: “Nope was definitely busy and I’m definitely being productive”

>> From ‘zumi’: “prove it”

She paused. She’s pretty sure he’s expecting a pic. At least if she was texting Mizuki or another friend that would be more or less a demand for a selfie to prove what she’s actually doing. But not only would that prove she lied, she still hadn’t picked out clothes to wear.

Her cat suddenly jumped onto her bed and started head butting her. “Yeah yeah, breakfast. I saw you had some left in your bowl, kitty cat.”

>> To ‘zumi’: “well i can’t send a pic not dressed”

After several minutes of giving the cat much needed attention, she moved her to the side so she could get to her wardrobe. While she decided on an outfit, she heard her phone chime again, but decided maybe she should go ahead and get dressed.

Now fully clothed she grabbed her phone and headed over to do some minimal makeup. Fill in her brows, cover her dark circles, the usual.

>> From ‘zumi’: “Not dressed this late in the afternoon? At work?”

>> From ‘zumi’: “I dont believe that’s normally acceptable in an office setting”

>> From ‘zumi’: “I’m guessing that means one of those things was a lie. you’re not supposed to lie to your friends”

She clicked her tongue. “Okay.. Oh wait!”

Friends!

She quickly checked her other messages. Sakusa and another friend had texted her earlier. Sakusa just sent a reminder about plans they had made for later in the week, so she confirmed the plans were still on. Her best friend surprisingly didn’t blow up her phone for ignoring him; not that he had anything important to say. She typed out a quick message to him, then got back to Iwaizumi.

>> To ‘zumi’: “fine I did sleep in”

>> To ‘zumi’: “sorry for lying how can I ever make it up to you”

Mochi was on her heels as she left the bedroom. “Okay! Okay!”

>> From ‘zumi’: “depends”

>> From ‘zumi’: “are you planning on getting dressed today”

She chuckled, and quickly gave Mochi food and fresh water.

>> To ‘zumi’: “yeah. Done. Mochi got her breakfast and now I’m getting mine”

As she stepped into her kitchen, Iwa was already calling her. What did she expect? She sighed and answered the call.

“You haven’t eaten yet?!” Did she expect him to say anything else? No.

“Hello to you, too.”

“Y/n.”

“Don’t dad me.”

“Wha-“

“Don’t ya have work today?”

“No, I have today off.”

“Oh. Fun fun.” She sent a request to switch to video chat before working on her brunch.

“..You’re dressed, right?”

She snorted. “I generally don’t cook naked.”

“Generally?” He accepted the switch to video call and she propped her phone up on the countertop. She could see he was indoors, but did not recognize where.

“I’m making something to eat now, but we can talk. Don’t worry, I’m fully clothed.” She snickered.

“Oh, so you do live somewhere,” he said with a coy smile. She winced at the nod to her secrecy. “What are you making?”

She paused staring down at her phone, then looked around and left the phone’s frame.

“You haven’t even figured out that much? I can’t believe you haven’t had anything to eat yet! It’s after 3pm!”

“It’s not-“ She caught sight of the time on the microwave and winced again. Whoops. She popped her head back in the camera frame long enough for a, “Nah.. Totally know what I’m cooking, yup!”

But she still caught his less than pleased expression before she turned away. She heard a sigh then, “Why don’t we just have lunch together?”

“Oh? You wanna have lunch with me, Iwaizumi?” She said, digging through the refrigerator for something she could make a meal out of.

“Do you want to cook or do you want to join me?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Boo.” She picked the phone up and held it in front of her as she abandoned what food and cookware she already laid out. “Yeah, I’d love to go get somethin’. Anything.” She glanced around the room. “I apparently need to grocery shop.”

He shook his head. “Any preference?”

“Nah. I’m literally wilting away. I’ll eat anything.” She threw an arm over her face dramatically as she walked from the kitchen.

He laughed. “Okay. I’m already out. Want to meet me somewhere?“

“Well, if yer out already,” she smirked and fell back onto the loveseat, “Why don’t you get whatever and come to my place. We can eat here.”

“Uh huh. I don’t know where you live, you little shit,” he grumbled.

“Ah, well, I could text you my address.. Are you anywhere near Kita ward?” His eyes were fixed on her through the screen, but he gave no response, verbally or otherwise. Her cheerful expression dropped and she spoke with an apologetic tone, “Look, I’m sorry about not sharing this stuff. I only didn’t want you to know where I live to be careful. Because the whole.. y’know..”

“Because you were afraid that I knew. And now you know that I do. How is that better?” The screen adjusted as he stepped outdoors from wherever he was.

She flicked stray hair out of her face. “Well.. because of your reaction. That’s what I was afraid of. But it was fi-“

“I’m still mad about it,” he commented without looking at the screen as he walked. Wherever he is isn’t too busy.

“Yeah, well.. ya have the right to be.”

“Please, just.. don’t lie to me anymore.” He stared at her through the screen with furrowed brows.

She nodded. “I won’t. I promise.” Mochi jumped over her face and onto the arm of the loveseat behind her head. “Also, sorry for lying this morning too.”

“What- Was that a cat?”

“Huh? Yeah.”

He just stared for a second before shaking his head. “And I don’t care about the thing earlier. Playing around and teasing is different than hiding a part of yourself and your life.”

“Yeah..” Mochi flipped her tail in Y/n’s face and she quickly slid it away. She then tilted her phone up so the cat was now in front of the phone and the shifter’s head was peeking from the bottom of the screen. “This is Mochi by the way. Umm, are ya allergic to cats?”

“So that’s who that is, huh. And no, I was just surprised you had a cat. You never talk about it.”

Around you, comment best left to herself.

“Good ‘cause her fur is everywhere.”

Y/n ran across the apartment when she heard knocking at the front door. Unlocking it, she opened the door to Iwaizumi with takeout. “Hey! Did ya have any trouble getting here?”

The smell of food suddenly hit her and she moaned, “I am so hungry. Oh my gosh, thank you.”

He stepped into her apartment and kicked off his shoes. “I didn’t think you’d live in the city.”

He looked around the apartment. It appeared to be not much bigger than his, but the floor-to-ceiling windows along the entire wall to the right made it feel much larger.

Y/n grabbed the bags of takeout from him and ran off to the kitchen which sat to the left, dining table sitting in the area between the entryway and kitchen.

The floors were a grey wood and the walls were painted a darker grey. The white and black in the kitchen along with her mostly black furniture definitely gave the space a monochrome feel.

“What, thought I lived in the woods?” She laughed. “I just run there. And, like, chill there. I love nature and the city alike, and this is closer to work so..”

He walked toward the living room, walking past a sofa to reach the wall of windows. Mochi jumped onto a small end table next to him to request a greeting. He ran a hand along Mochi’s back after letting her sniff him. “What do you do again? It’s close by?”

“Uhh,” he could hear her shuffling around in the kitchen, “Best summary would be really boring business stuff. For other businesses. Around Chuo Ward.”

“How creative,” he said dryly.

“Logistics,” the kitchen noises stopped, “Making calls, boring desk work.”

She walked up behind Iwaizumi so quietly he didn't notice she had left the kitchen. “I mean, other stuff too, but ya know.”

He jumped a little when her voice came from his right where she suddenly appeared.

She stifled a giggle. “Sorry. Do ya wanna eat over here?”

He gave a wary look.

“Believe me it’s fine,” she shooed the cat from the end table, “This little brat makes a bigger mess than you ever could.”

She paused before adding, “Ah.. Actually, I might make more messes.”

He snorted. “Wherever is fine.”

The two of them shared the larger of the two sofas. She placed her mostly empty noodle bowl on the coffee table, then leaned back and maneuvered so that her legs were draped over the arm of the sofa and her head resting against one of his thighs. “Excellent choice. You are definitely allowed to pick where we eat in the future,” she said staring at the ceiling, totally content.

Iwaizumi’s legs were stretched out in front of him, one hand holding a drink and the other now moved to the back of the sofa after Y/n claimed where the arm once was. “Oh yeah?”

She hummed in agreement, eyes now gazing across the room.

He looked towards the windows again, sipping at his drink. “I bet sunrise is pretty from here.”

She hummed again, but this time in disagreement. “Nah, wrong way. But I never wake up early enough anyway.”

He looked down at her resting face. She was wearing much less makeup than usual. It’s the first time he noticed the faint details of her face. “You wake up early enough when you stay with me,” voice low.

“Yeah.. But that’s the only time. I don’t sleep much there.” She opened her eyes just barely to look at him.

His eyebrows raised, he wasn’t aware of that. He thought she just woke up early. “Why’s that?”

She turned her head so she faced away from him now and spoke softly, “..Anxious maybe?” She turned back to him. “You make it sound like I stay with you a lot. I’ve only stayed twice.”

“I think it was three times.”

“Nah,” she sat up this time, kicking her legs around to face forward, just missing Mochi, “Maybe four times.”

“Definitely not four times.” He looked around the room again, taking in her home.

“Eh. Next time,” she reached down to swipe at Mochi under the coffee table.

He chuckled as Mochi took off to climb a cat tree against the wall behind them.

“So other animals..” He trailed off, not sure if he should finish that sentence.

“Cats don’t mind at all,” she met his gaze, “You’re talking about Mochi living with me, right? Dogs and some other animals do seem to notice, but she doesn’t. I could shapeshift in here and she wouldn’t care less.”

“And you can ask me whatever, I won’t get offended. Not really anyway.” She turned in her seat to fully face him, leaning her head against the arm he had along the back of the sofa. “Well, I mean, if you did ask something I didn’t want to answer, I just wouldn’t answer,” she playfully crinkled her nose at him to which he rolled his eyes.

He sat his drink to the side. “You do that in here?”

“What, shapeshift? Not usually.” She moved her attention to the windows. It was well into the evening now and sunset had started, shades of yellow and orange filling the sky around the city. “Hmm.. I might not get to see sunrise here, but sunset always gets me.”

He looked over this shoulder then shifted to face the windows to watch the sunset as well. “What’s better, sunset or sunrise?”

She shifted again, this time to sit on her legs. She hadn’t had the chance to go for a run lately, and it’s starting to catch up with her, making her fidget. She leaned forward, letting her chest press against his back and head rest on his shoulder. She hums. “They’re two different things that can’t be compared. I pick both.”

They stayed there in silence watching the sun set behind the tall buildings of Kita. At least until Mochi saw her chance and jumped onto the coffee table just to nosedive into takeout leftovers. Y/n jumped up, chasing the cat away. “Mochi!”

Iwaizumi shook his head, watching her remove a food container from Mochi’s head. “How about I help you clean this up?”

She exhaled, starting to already stack some of the takeout containers. “Sure. I’d appreciate it.”

He reached over to grab anything she missed and followed to dispose of everything. She made a second trip to carry glasses to the sink. He met her back in the kitchen just for her to grab his wrist and drag him back to the living room.

Sunset was almost over, the sky fading to darker shades, deep pinks and purples painting the sky. “Watching the sunset from here is beautiful,” she whispered.

They returned to their spot on the sofa, this time she leaned into his side. “But watching the sunrise from your living room.. feels warm.”

“Is that so?”

They stayed like that while the sun disappeared, lights of the city illuminating the dark blue sky. Iwaizumi caught her starting to doze off as she leaned heavier into him. One arm around her side, he shook her lightly. “Hey, go to bed.”

She stirred and grumbled a response, “Fine. Stay?”

“Yeah, if that’s what you want. I’ll stay out here. You go to bed.”

She sat up and stretched. “Nah. My bed‘s huge. It’s like a.. I don’t know.. There’s plenty of room.”

“No, that’s okay.” He watched her stand and shuffle towards the front door, checking the locks.

“Look, I can’t make ya,” her voice filled with exhaustion. She walked behind the sofa and reached over to wrap her arms around his shoulders in a lazy hug from where he sat. “But if ya change yer mind.”

“I’ll get blankets.” She released him and moved around the living room towards the back of the apartment. She walked through her bedroom to one of the closets and pulled out a huge fluffy blanket and headed for the living room.

Iwaizumi was outside the bedroom door by the time she reached it. “What’s up with you and sleepovers?”

“I get lonely.” She handed him the oversized blanket. “Here.”

Taking the blanket, he said, “We don't even sleep in the same room.”

“Yeah. Well.” Her unfocused eyes looking past him. “My other friends do, but that’s fine. Just bein’ here matters.” She yawned again before continuing, “I have extra pillows too.”

He waited outside the doorway as she went back to the closet to retrieve pillows. Unlike the rest of the apartment, her bedroom was colorful from what he could see, and also messy. Compared to the monochrome, nice and neat main areas, this room could have belonged to an entirely different unit.

She returned to the doorway with two pillows and they walked back to the living room. “If you need anything, ya know, make yerself at home,” she said sleepily followed by a yawn, “I’ll leave the door open. And if Mochi bugs you, you can close her in my room. She’s a cuddler.”

He smiled before chasing the tired shifter off to bed, exchanging goodnights.

Parts 10 >>

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afairytalestray · 3 years

Text

The Deutabella Family (1)

So a while back I thought about sharing some of my Cats headcanons (extended editions) here, and since then I’ve been trying to compile them all into a document, which feels more a bit like herding unruly sheep. But I finally finished part 1 of many more to come :) So here’s my headcanons for the Deutabella family! All hcs in this little series will be pre-canon, if we accept the musical as the present day canon, if that makes sense. It’s basically my take on the characters’ past. Pls enjoy! (they won’t all be this long probably) (masterpost here!)

Old Deuteronomy and Grizabella are former mates, who had Macavity, Munkustrap and Tugger together. They got together and became mates at a young age. At that time young Old Deuteronomy was a lot more like present-day Tugger than Munkustrap. For a while they were happy, but when Old D became the tribe leader he had less time to spare. He changed a bit when he took on the leadership role, becoming more serious and less free-spirited and Griz became lonely. She never really had a lot of close friends within the tribe, she never really felt like she fit in and she always had big dreams of fame and fortune outside of the Junkyard which her peers just didn’t get. She always liked attention, but with her mate so busy all the time she begins to crave it in a less healthy way. When she wasn’t performing and basking in the limelight, she became sullen, withdrawn and moody.

Things got better for a while after she had her kittens. She never let go of her dreams of fame, but she had a distraction, somewhere to direct her restless energy. First came Macavity, then 3 years later Munkustrap, then Tugger 5 years after that. Grizabella loved her kittens, but gradually her brooding moods began to come over her again. Her dissatisfaction with her life grew and grew, and so did her itchy feet and panic that she was wasting her best years. The thought that she’d never be anything more than Old D’s mate eventually became unbearable to her and one day, not long after little Tugger was born, she snapped. She packed her bags and left with only the briefest goodbyes. Later in life, this lack of full farewells/explanations would be what haunted her the most. She didn’t mean to be cruel or to hurt anyone, she was only thinking of herself and her own happiness.

Old Deuteronomy never realised how neglected she felt until it was too late. He never meant to hurt her or make her feel alone, but being the tribe leader had taken over a lot of his time. A gap had slowly and subtly been growing between them, but he didn’t notice how truly bad it had gotten until she told him she was done. Grizabella’s departure sent their whole family into a tailspin, and none of them dealt with it really well. Old D felt it strongly, their strained mating bond began causing him pain, and he missed her dearly. Once she left there was a hole in his heart, one that no one else could ever fill. He felt guilty for pushing her away, and for his children losing their mother. Although he tried his absolute best to keep it together for them, he felt horrible and weak all the time, and thus withdrew a lot to try and shield them from it. This sure did not have the effect he wanted.

Little Tugger basically never knew his mother, and grew up only ever hearing how terrible a thing she did from the other adults and this was only ever countered by Macavity. He was raised by the tribe and so grew up with a great deal of respect for his father, but never had a particularly close bond with him until later on. He was closest with his two brothers, Macavity in particular. Tugger loved Macavity’s magic, especially how he could levitate him so high it felt like flying and then drop him and catch him in his arms. Munkustrap, bless him, was a bit of a wimp (once a stressed-out worrywort, always a stressed-out worrywort) who never enjoyed the “dangerous” games, but always seemed to end up having fun after being dragged along. As he grew, Tugger was caught between the tribe and Macavity. While the tribe was generally negative about Grizabella (although never to his face they avoided talking about her and brushed him off, never said anything more than “she did a bad thing”), Macavity would talk about her all the time and tell him how great she was and how when she came back for them she’d be a big star. However as time passed, Macavity began to realise his mother wasn’t coming back, and that began to push him down a dark path.

Macavity gradually went off the rails after Grizabella left. He had been his mum’s little star, and was the closest one to her. Griz was always very supportive of Mac, and adored the magic tricks he could do when his powers began to show. Unfortunately (and unintentionally) she leant on him a bit too much. Mac always wanted to spend all his time with her and not with the other kittens his own age (he knew she was lonely) and she let him, and as a result he never really learned how to interact with his peers or form any real friendships. He learned how to put on a fake smile and act at his mother’s knee. Griz would often vent to him; although he never quite understood how she was feeling, and he understood it as being with the Jellicles made her sad. When she left, he blamed his father and the tribe for it and began to grow angry and bitter, which would build until the events of the day of his banishment.

Munkustrap was the first one to see the change in Macavity. Tugger hero-worshipped his oldest brother, but Munkustrap was always the responsible one of the three. He saw that Macavity’s smiles had turned to sneers, that his jokes became more cruel than funny, that his little tricks became nasty. He saw that whenever Tugger went to play with Macavity he’d return worse for wear, but never thinking anything of it. Other adults wrote it off as the result of typical kitten rough and tumble play, but in truth Macavity began to bully Tugger, take advantage of his trusting nature and take his bad moods out on him (under the guise of “helping him grow big and strong”), but Tugger wouldn’t realise this until much later. Of the three of them, Munkustrap was the closest to his father, his natural maturity and steady/calm nature being a comfort to Old D, and he brings his concerns to him.

Old D could never acknowledge that Macavity had gone dark and evil, but he did recognise that a huge gap had grown between him and his son. He immediately began trying to bridge it, but he was never able to get through to Macavity. He tried really hard, but his eldest was too far gone, and threw all his efforts back in his face. Macavity, as the eldest, was supposed to be Old D’s heir, but the two always ended up arguing, and Mac would always end up yelling how Old D had neglected Grizabella and pushed her away and that he was the reason he no longer had a mother. The more Old D tried to reach out to him, the further away Macavity got. He began to push his magic deeper and darker, shirking his duties and lashing out at other Cats. Eventually he went too far.

One morning not much later, Old Deuteronomy named Munkustrap his heir. Macavity had become too unstable for the job. Macavity didn’t take this well. That afternoon he snapped, and when Tugger came up to play with him, he magically threw him away so hard he crashed through a large pile of garbage and was badly hurt. Munkustrap went ballistic, and he and Macavity got into a massive fight before Old Deuteronomy stepped in and physically separated them, and banished Macavity.

It broke Old D’s heart to banish his son. He spent some time with his younger two and successfully managed to salvage his relationship with them (loving, although still somewhat distant), but once Munk was fully set up as the heir he began spending less and less time in the Junkyard. He feels guilty for not seeing the signs sooner, for not listening to Munkustrap, for allowing Tugger to get hurt, and the pain of losing both his mate and now his son, too.

Tugger ended up blaming Grizabella for Macavity’s fall - he knew that her not coming back hurt Mac, and maybe if she had none of this would have happened. This was the first time he really felt alone and abandoned since she left. He barely knew her, but Macavity had adored her, and Tugger connected his upset about his brother with her. His relationship with Munkustrap also went downhill after the latter was named heir, and wouldn’t see improvement for a long time. Macavity would continue to try and hurt Tugger after his banishment; whenever he attacked and caused havoc in the Junkyard, he’d send visions and voices to scare his youngest brother, which leads to Tugger’s current knee-jerk reaction to run and hide whenever Macavity makes an appearance.

Although he had never developed any real relationships with other Cats his age, Macavity was a master of lies and manipulation. On the day of his banishment, before she knew what had happened, he convinced the kind Demeter to feel sorry for him and to elope with him. He paints a picture of rejection and sadness that he was passed over for Munkustrap, lying by saying that Munkustrap turned on him when it happened, telling him to leave, and that he feels so scared and alone and that he hadn’t done anything wrong. He tells her that she has always been so kind to him and that he has fallen in love with her. In reality he doesn’t give a crap, but he knows that Munkustrap has secretly been in love with her for ages but was always too shy to tell her. Demeter, unaware of the attacks, feels for him and agrees to the elopement. She was always a shy queen who never felt as pretty as her big sister Bombalurina, and so was overwhelmed by Macavity’s carefully constructed flattery. Bomba falls for it too, to an extent, and follows to protect her sister. However, by the time they realise the truth of what Macavity is, they’re both trapped in his web. They’re both his prisoners, and stick together as much as they can. They try to come up with plans to escape back to the Jellicles, but aren’t able to manage it until they’re joined by another one of Macavity’s tricked captives, a young tom just out of kittenhood, Mistoffelees.

#so this got really long I'm so sorry #once I got started I couldn't stop #cats the musical #my headcanons #deutabella #Old Deuteronomy #Grizabella #Macavity #Munkustrap #the rum tum tugger #Demeter #Bombalurina

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

handmaid - 21

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual content (18+)

A/N: CHILDREN SHIELD YOUR EYES!!! for those over 18, hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

I love you.

I love ... you.

Some words have the power to affect you and touch you more than an actual touch. I, love, and you are words as simple as words can be, they’re overused and sometimes used in ways that shouldn’t be used. They’re harmless. However put them together and suddenly you have a sentence that can haunt you or provide you with the best of feelings that can be experienced by someone.

I love you. He’d heard that particular phrase several times at different times in his life, the first being with the very first girl he fell in love with and the last being with the last girl he would ever fall in love with. Love is such a pure emotion in its own, no hatred, no jealousy, no selfishness and the fact that it came from someone as pure as Y/N, it was just ... the best thing someone could hear. She loved him. Him, out of everyone. She loved him and he was speechless. The mob boss who constantly controlled the room and everyone around him, who always had the last word was speechless at the hand of the handmaid. Soft power, she embodied soft power and this was a pure demonstration of that trait.

- I’m so sorry ... I don’t know why I said that, you’re engaged to Gwen and I respect her so much. I ... - she was lost in her rambling. Why couldn’t she have kept her feelings in the darkest corner of her mind? Why would she tell him that? She shouldn’t have and before she could return to her quick apology and cover up what she thought to be a dagger and conversation stopper, he had pulled her chin towards his to kiss her delicately. She should’ve pulled back, part of her knew she should’ve pulled back but he was too much for a good kisser and she was too much involved into it for her to actually delve onto the consequences of her actions.

- If I knew you’d do this, I would given you a bag much much sooner. - was she wrong to be feeling this way? After all, no one is really capable of controlling their feelings, they’re just responses caused by hormones and the brain to various stimuli . She can’t choose them right? Then if she can’t chose she should at least feel guilty. This was Gwen’s husband to be, the same Gwen whose family supported her education and kept her alive all this years. But then again Gwen was never gonna love Sebastian, no, she wasn’t even gonna try to be his friend yet that didn’t mean it gave Y/N the right to commit adultery. Could it even be considered adultery if he wasn’t married yet? No, it is adultery and she shouldn’t commit adultery with the man standing in front of her. - Are you alright, angel?

- I should go to bed. - she got on her feet, looking down at her cozy socks instead of his beautiful baby blues. - Good night, Sebastian.

She had to get as far away from him as possible before she did something something like getting under him. How is she supposed to fall out of love with someone if she’s under him? Why would she tell him she was in love with him? Was she daft or did she have a dying wish? Locking the bedroom door behind her, she slid down the dark wood door, hand on top of her chest. How rude of her to just leave him there. He had been nothing but a sweetheart to her with pretty much copying her Christmas tradition in less than a day to make her happy, and let’s not even mention the bag that was compared to real estate. For shame, she had kissed not once, not twice but several times the very much off the market mob boss. Yet again, why should she care? Why should be so worried if Gwen was not? If his wife to be didn’t care and was more than happy to go around with as many men as she wanted despite the wedding ring on her polished finger, why should she care about who was with Sebastian?

Oh Sebastian. She had just left him there looking like a lost puppy. How could she do this? He had gone all the way to make her happy, he respected her and was the only person in her life so far who had actually been interested in listening to her opinions and actually ask her what she wanted. She owed him an apology, heck, she had been playing go and pull with him for quite some time so she owed him more than a apology. Yet again, why did she not just have her fun? If Gwen can have her affairs then why couldn’t she delve into her own passions with him? He clearly seemed willing but it’s wrong. However, what is right and wrong when you’re in the mob? There’s always a fine fine line between right and wrong. There’s no right and wrong, that’s what she used to hear from Mr. Forrest, only darker and lighter shades of grey.

Did she believe that? She didn’t know. Different authors had different opinions and she herself din’t believe she would ever know the answer. What she knew was that before she realised what she was doing, she was walking barefoot against the hardwood floors and stood in front of the door of his bedroom. She knocked on the door with a less than willing strength. He didn’t take long to open the door, standing with his dark sweatpants and grey tee shirt. Y/N’s words escaped her, what was she gonna say? Couldn’t be stupider than telling a soon to be married man that she loved him. Should she start with an apology? Should she try and joke? No, she clearly wasn’t good at joking. Why wasn’t she speaking? She could feel him looming, eyes burning onto her face.

- Got something to say, angel? - there was a weird shift in atmosphere as she looked up into his beautiful cerulean eyes. There it was once more, the same pull accompanied by those characteristic sparks she had heard and read about. What is the point of going against the pull? It’s like facing two magnets and try to ensure they don’t stick together, eventually you tire yourself off. Finally, Y/N was tired and pushing her morals towards her friend into the back of her friend, she leaned in.

Sebastian was caught off guard but he wasn’t one to complain, specially when it was her. His hands rested on her natural waist, pushing her body towards his. She could feel the warmth of his hands through her shirt, the sort of warmth that only he could provide and as such she held him closer, closer than ever before, ensuring he wouldn’t leave or become a figment of her imagination. Her hand slide into the curly mess that was his hair became whenever he didn’t pay attention to it.

She didn’t consider herself an experienced kisser, in all honesty, she wasn’t experienced at anything relationship wise so once his tongue made his way into her mouth, stroking the roof ever so lightly she couldn’t help but choke in a moan, hand pulling at his hair. This seemed to incite him as he bit her lip, hands slowly descending to her lower back and her bum, giving it a little squeeze which made her smile through the kiss.

- You’re gonna run away from the again, angel? - he swiftly pulled back, closing the door behind them.

- I reckon that I care to choose to stay. - Y/N smiled, knowing she would regret it later but later is later and now is now and she’d rather be in the now. He leaned in to kiss her again, fingers toying with the much too short t-shirt of her sleeping garments. Part of her wished he would just take it off, wanting to feel his warmth all over. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about him in lewd ways or how he looked under the pristine suits he always wore. At that thought alone, she couldn’t help but feel her cheeks heat up.

With a decisive grip, she held onto the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. What she came into her view was something that would water the mouths of everyone. She knew he was a good looking well built man but she wasn’t expecting him to be that ripped. Her hand slid down from his hair to rest onto his chest.

- I don’t think it’s a fair deal you seeing me with my shirt off while you’re fully dressed, angel. - stress spread through her whole body and she wondered if he was going to like what he saw once she removed her tee-shirt. She was almost entirely sure that she was not up to standards to please a man like him.

- Alright, turn around. - Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows at her request but decided to comply, turning around. After checking he was staring at the door and not at her, she pulled her shirt off throwing it to the floor where it pooled near his.

- You are the most stunning thing I’ve ever come across. - she heard his raspy deep yet deeper than usual voice against her ear as he took a long stride towards her.

His arms circled around her smaller figure and Y/N was sure she could feel her heart beating faster and harder on her throat when his hands ghosted over her chest, tightening around her perked bud. This sole action made her gasp loudly which caused him to softly hum in content against the back of her neck, moving the hand that circled over one of her breasts and running his thumb over the perked bud once to watch the young handmaid get goosebumps and squirm under his touch. Screw having power over a whole entire city, he would throw it all away so he could have this sort of power over her.

- You like when I touch you. Don’t you, angel? - He stated rather plainly with a hint of pride and she adverted her eyes from his hands. Her mouth opened to speak yet it closed as quickly as it opened once he pinched one of her buds without any prior warning. She tried her hardest to prevent a moan to slip out thinking it would make her sound like a desperate teenager but there was no stopping her quivering and shaking legs. He seemed to notice this, pulling her from the ground and laying her down on his bed. - Do you want to do this?

- Yes. - she nodded her head furiously, worried that if she took a beat he would disappear in thin air. She stood there in his bed, head slightly raised as she watched every single step.

His eyes were darker than usual, a far cry from the baby blues that took over his iris and the stretched fabric on his crotch was a tell sign he was trying his best to control the situation which only made her more aroused and she could feel the wetness coming from her and sliding down her thighs which every once in a while rubbed against one another.

He took his sweet time unbuttoning and zipping down his trousers as he stares down at her, wondering if he was having yet again one of his delusion dreams. However, her harsh breathing was much too real to be just a dream and her touch was much to intense to be a fantasy. He pushed his boxers and his trousers down past his knees and climbed onto bed, hovering above her, hands on either side of her head.

Y/N was rather new to the whole array of sensations she was feeling yet all she knew was that she wanted to feel him, she wanted to touch him badly yet all her body seemed to be writhing under him, awaiting for release. However, he lost no time in getting rid of the white shorts as quickly as he could. Her eyes were gazed onto the ceiling, much to shy to actually look at what was happening.

When he pressed down with his index finger on her clit and, skilfully, pushed aside her underwear, she found herself gasping lightly as she felt his warm roughed finger trace up and down her folds and then, to make it more torturous in a twisted pleasurable way, he adds another finger, circling her little bundle of nerves masterfully while his other fingers slip along her folds, slipping just enough for him to feel her soaking entrance.

- Sebastian ... - she managed to blurt out, clinging to the arm whose hand continued to tease her masterfully and she herself was if she had hold onto him to get some relief from these new emotions or to stop him completely so she could regain her senses.

- It’s alright, angel, I’m here. - he smirked down at her, leaning close to her heated face, lips almost painfully touching. - You are so wet, so frustrated. I could just stare at you for hours.

- Just do something.

- I am doing something, angel. Maybe I’ll just stop doing it ... - he answers , removing his fingers from her soaked folds and placing them in his sinful mouth, licking and sucking on them rather loudly to make her even more flustered, if that was even possible.

Y/N stared at him as she tried to even out her breathing and calm down her beating-heart, thumping as hard as a rabbit thumps their small pawed feet on the grass. She thought she had read sinful things, she thought she had seen sinful things but nothing compared to watching his lick her juices off his fingers. Sebastian hummed and wrapped his tongue around the tips of his fingers. Once finished, he removed them with a loud pop.

- After all you did run on me ... several times - he added smugly, proud of the control he has holding over her head. - You’re lucky I adore you, angel.

He pushed her stomach down on the bed, his hands, parted and one either side of her head, supporting his body height as he fit his knee in between her legs, slowly spreading her thighs apart, never for a moment leaving her gaze or letting her eyes wander anywhere else but him. He could just die happy looking at her like that.

Wrapping her spread legs around his waist, she could already feel his thick hard cock pressed against her entrance, making her choke out a moan and a few whines, both from anticipation, need, and pure unknown of what was going to happen next. She was sure she had never felt something like that before, so powerful yet needy at the same time. Stretching her arms to wrap around his neck, she buried her head against the soft sheets of the bed to which he smirked and leaned. Slowly, he pushed into her and she gasped, parting her lips just barely enough to let out a throaty moan. It was a weird feeling, painful but with the power to be something else and as he slowly continued to fill her the brim, she couldn’t help but let out moans and cries of both pleasure and pain as she felt him stretch her completely and that pain morphed into more of an unspeakable pleasure.

- God fuck ... you’re tight. - he shut his eyes, groaning as he felt her walls contract around him, stilling his movements.

- Fuck ... - she groaned, moving her hips from side to side which made him groan loudly, eyes snapping open.

- Don’t do that unless you want me to fuck you against the window so that the whole of the Upper East will know who you belong to. - those words came out like threats but the way she milked him made him smirk. - You do want that, don’t you, angel? Maybe some other day.

- Just move, please just move ... - she pleaded with whatever control of her voice she had left and with a crooked smirk, his hands slide down to her hips which he grabbed. Subtly, he yanked them up until he slide out of her womanhood completely before ramming himself back in, making her moan sharply and hide her face against his chest in an attempt to muffle her moans.

Y/N quivered and whimpered in his hold, shaking her hips with both excitement and pleasure as he repeated the same motion time and time again. His thrusts heavy, hard and fast, and as both of them gradually started to reach their end, became sloppier and messier but still powerful enough to rock her body and the bed along with it. She could feel herself getting closer, closer and closer to some sort of unknown release until finally she felt as if her body went through a tiny explosion causing her walls to tighten around him and Sebastian, in turn and along with her orgasm, came within a few seconds after her.

He slid out of her, rolling on his side while Y/N stared at the ceiling, still lost in what sounded like static and white like vision, breath returning to normality along with her body.

- Are you okay, angel? - he questioned, watching her roll on her side so she could look at him.

- Peachy. - she breathed out, arms lifting up with whatever strength she had left to wrap them around his torso. Nuzzling her face against his chest, sleep soon came to both of them.

The morning came soon after, tiny and weak rays of sun filtered through the windows into the mob boss’s bedroom. However, it wasn’t the light that woke them up but the incessant knocking on their door. Sebastian raised his head from his pillow, cursing whomever was knocking at the door.

Grabbing his boxers from the floor and quickly putting them on, he strode towards the door, pulling it open so hard that it could’ve removed it from the hinges hadn’t they been well placed.

- Amelia, what is it? - he almost growled at the housekeeper, she however was unbothered by it, much too used to him at this point.

- We have a situation, Mr. Stan.

- What situation? - he asked in a much more polite tone of voice, noticing Y/N was watching them like a hawk in confusion.

- It’s Mr. Daniel Forrest ... he’s downstairs.

- How is he downstairs? No cars are leaving from the Upper East.

- I don’t know, sir. He is here however to take Miss Y/N to Mr. Forrest’s house ... for Christmas. He is rather impatient.

- For heaven’s sakes ... - he kicked the side of the door. In all the times the weather just had to get better right now, turning around to look at the girl still barely awake in his bed, he let out a sigh. He couldn’t force her to spend Christmas with him. All she wanted was to go home. - Angel, get your things, Daniel Forrest is here.

- Dan is here? - she perked up, duvet wrapped around her body as she collected her garments from the floor. - But I thought ...

- Well, he is here and I don’t think he’s gonna leave unless you leave with him. Isn’t that what you wanted? - isn’t that what she wanted? She questioned herself as she got dressed, surely it was. She wanted to spend Christmas with those who had taken care of her, right?

- You must come with me then. We always have one more plate at our table and the house is awf ...

- I have to work, angel. I don’t get days off, I told you that.

- I know and you can work there. It’s fine, I’m sur ...

- Y/N. - he interrupted her. - Just go and get your things.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld @captainchrisstan @lookiamtrying @sarge-barnes-sir @stuffforreferences @thebadassbitchqueen

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan smut #mob!sebastian stan #mobster!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

Note

MINNIE SENPAI!! blease do E, I, K, L, N, O, W, Z for Leo? 🥺💖 (i might have gone overboard, so feel free to choose the ones you like the most fhdgk)

Haha, welcome welcome!! I’m honored kouhai, please don’t worry! 💖💖💖 I hope you enjoy this post~

Under a cut for length, yet again LOL

Fluffy ABC headcanons listed here for requests!

E = Emotions (how does he express emotion around her?)

Bold of you to insinuate Leonardo has emotions that aren’t imposed against his will HAHAHA. Just kidding, but he does have a hard time not clowning and hiding what he’s feeling. Say it with me kids, repression. That being said, I think he will always have a hard time expressing himself without hesitation in his relationship. His first instinct is to soothe and protect; he doesn’t really know how to put himself first, very few people have ever cared to put him first in his life. One of the hardest things about being capable with the mental acuity of a blade is that everyone just kinda assumes you'll be fine (compounded by the fact that he feels burdensome asking for help). And while there’s no doubt he can take care of himself, everybody needs a daijoubu from time to time ;-;. I like to hope that his MC will be able to see through to the truth of his feelings over time--even if he doesn’t openly enumerate them--before he can smother his emotional needs into silence. Furthermore, I think he would be a little more open/obvious about the depth of his love over time because, at some point, those feelings would accumulate to the point of overflow.

With Leonardo, vulnerability is a slow burn; he will reveal what he’s thinking someday, but today is not that day. Have patience, be gentle with his absolute clown self-neglect, try to meet him halfway; that trust will inspire him to be everything he thought he never could be for someone else.

In the meantime:

One of the key signals when it comes to Leonardo is to pay attention to when he’s seeking to spoil her. If he’s being extra uwu, that’s a surefire sign he’s Coping™ by channeling those more negative feelings into making her happy. He thinks the best way to handle The Bad Feels and/or concern for her is to redirect that energy into something constructive, and what better outcome could there be than her pouting or giving him that dazzling smile of hers?

Honestly, with Leonardo, he tends to convert emotion into action--she will know the warmth of his love long before he ever says it out loud.

He has a hard time articulating his feelings, so asking him to say them outright might be hard on him--it might not be the best immediate go-to. Spoil him out of the blue, instead. She’ll seek him out and just sit in his lap and cuddle for a nap sessh completely without warning, hold him tight so that he knows she’s here no matter what. She’ll indulge his cute needy moments and lounge in bed all morning together, hold his hand first when they go out, take charge in the bedroom; she’ll show him he’s wanted and needed before he can even think to doubt himself. Murmur compliments to him, make him things he loves to eat, give him a back rub unprompted. It’s the simple awareness of what he enjoys and the execution of it before he can prepare that utterly decimates him into revealing the feelings he keeps under tight control.

He is a lover that thrives on spontaneity and burning, silent consideration for the person he cherishes. The most adorable thing about this is that he is absolutely lost when the same tactic is used against him, he’s utterly defenseless to it!! (look at me. He has zero emotional object permanence. The mere prospect that somebody would worry about him first would send him into shock. And remember: the way people give love can often be the most powerful way they receive it, too.) The sacred texts!! She can use them to make him smile that smile that lets her know he’s an absolute goner for her without the need for words; the smile that says “it will always be you. It can only ever be you.”

When he’s happy, he literally just spoils her with more energy and teasing--expect a lot of wild fun and laughter when he’s in a good mood. He will have exceptionally tender moments now and again (say after a bad nightmare of losing her, for example) where he won’t say anything at all, just holds her close. He needs to know that she’s still here, that she’s okay. It is a rare and huge act of emotional trust; MC’s understanding and her easy proximity in these moments mean the world to him. When he’s distant and evasive, that is the time to give him some space before wedging her way inside. She won’t let him sit and stew in abysmal feelings; he has a bad habit of punishing himself too much or lingering on unhappy moments in his life. Despite how he seems he takes things incredibly seriously--to the point where he exhausts himself.

When he’s jealous and feeling petulant, he will not hesitate bitch and will get surprisingly grumpy. She’ll coo at him and reassure him that he’s the only one for her, and he’ll calm in the circle of her arms. Fun bonus: he’ll be embarrassed/mortified about being out of control later and she has ENDLESS fun teasing him just a little, even better if he punishes her with a good bangarang. Anger and irritation are emotions he tends to leave be, but if someone directs any kind of threat to MC (or an innocent in general) every trace of his jovial nature dissolves in milliseconds. He is swift, decisive, and deadly when he’s belligerent; he is the last person to push too far. He will often regret it later or worry about scaring MC, but it really does only happen once in a great while. She always reassures him that she knows he only did what he felt he had to in the moment.

You can just hear the Leonardo stan in me, lord jesus

I = Injury (how would he react if she got hurt?)

OH GOD KILL ME FUCKING SOFTLY AUGHGHGHGHGGH

I think it would depend on the injury. If it’s something like a papercut or a scratch, he’ll just be like “yare yare cara mia, be a little more careful next time, yeah?” Will bandage her up and disinfect because he knows enough about medicine to be cautious. Plenty attentive, will probably tease her about being a klutz and/or tell her to ask for help next time. Everything you would expect from Leonardo, essentially; equal parts light-hearted and responsible.

NOW WE GONNA GET SPOICY

If the injury is much more intense--say a broken limb, or deep gashes, so on and so forth--I see Leonardo being very, very grim. His lips would be pursed into a firm line, blanched white from the pressure, and his first step would be to get her out of the danger at any cost to himself. Following his ability to get her to a safe place, he would begin to tend the wound as gently as possible, asking questions to gauge the severity with single-minded concentration. “Where does it hurt? Rate the pain, describe what it feels like. Can you move the injured limb?” He will use whatever he has at his disposal to minimize her suffering if he can’t get her to a doctor immediately. If she requires treatment from someone else, he will be beside himself the entire time; chain-smoking, pacing, running his hands through his hair nonstop. He has ants in his pants until he sees her with color in her face, eyes bright again.

May I offer: They are 100% that couple (in which Leonardo is the one that falls asleep at her bedside) that’s like “you look like shit.” “look who’s talking, stupid.” and they just start laughing, mutually relieved.

During her recovery, he will be incredibly gentle but also subliminally alert. Anything she needs, she gets. If she tries to return to a normal pace of life too fast, he is straight up just picking her up and putting her back in that recovery bed. He ain’t playin’--don’t test him on this. He’s usually pretty easygoing, but he will snap at anyone who isn’t careful with her in this state. He will not take any further risk to her life. (He’s not usually brittle, but under severe conditions he can be.) He’ll tease her from time to time, but it’s much more mild than usual; he’s too consumed with concern to let her get worked up. He’s never really had to deal with a prolonged state of physical helplessness personally, but he’s seen enough in his life to know it can be really taxing on a person’s mind. There will be a thin veneer of calm, only there to keep her relaxed and to ensure the stability of her mental health. He knows that if he shows too much distress, he’s only going to worry her further--and that’s the last thing he wants. He will spend the majority of his time acquiring as many distractions as humanly possible, even if he has to be the distraction; anything to get her mind off of darker things.

When she’s back to normal, he’ll still be on alert for a short while before he goes back to his usual clowning self; might be a little more protective and cautious than usual, or be a little paranoid about the specific thing that caused her harm. (No Leonardo, we need kitchen knives--how else are we going to cut the carrots?? Please relax.) He doesn’t want that kind of heart attack again anytime soon;;;;

Honestly, it’s very likely that MC will have to be the one to remind him that she’s fully recovered--and not quite so fragile--well after she’s returned to the normal pace of life.

K = Kisses (how does he like to kiss her?)

Mah heart, mah soul

When it comes to kisses, Leonardo will vary extensively. Will give her teasing pecks intended to make her grab hold of him and force him to linger, smirking into the kiss as she’s instigated to deepen it. When he’s feeling particularly overwhelmed with feeling--say when he’s jealous or frustrated--his kisses will be dizzying; sucking on her tongue and nipping at her lips, caging her against him as he unleashes all of the desire that was building inside him. The intent will be to drown her in passion. Lazy kisses before/after a nap, where he just wants to revel in the heat of her for a moment--express his affection on a whim--before dozing off. And last, but certainly not least, he will kiss her with the express intent of marking her. Due to his inability refusal to bite her, he seeks to relieve that instinct with hickeys all over her body (most frequently around the chest and neck, sometimes along her thighs and hips when he has fun downtown).

L = Love (how does he show her that he loves her?)

This man is Acts of Service through and through when it comes to showing his love. He is exceptionally observant and sensitive to the feelings of others, so the second he sees her in need he is already seeking an externalized solution. His usual modus operandi is to enact his love as covertly as possible; he doesn’t want her feeling guilty for troubling him. That being said, if he has to be direct--he will be. He won’t ever force her, but he will remind her that he is here and that he wants to help more than anything else. If she needs time on her own he’s happy to give it (even if he pouts and fidgets restlessly the whole time). His most acute expression of love is his reliability: taking care of people is the first way he knows how to express affection.

While that tends to be his primary method, it by no means insinuates that he won’t show affection in other ways. If he teases her, it’s because he wants her attention more than anything but is far too shy to say it directly (is he a middle schooler of a lover? Yes). More to the point, asking for her time and her attention is a way that he expresses love because it means he trusts her enough to know the signs, fulfill those needs, and realize that he meant no harm with his nonsense. Though it may sound odd, his desire to rely on her a little (insert is for me? meme) is his way of showing her he’s letting her in, and that’s a very real form of love considering how Herculean an effort it is for him to rely on someone else. It’s the same reason he will sometimes make his room an even bigger disaster zone than usual. He has every intention of cleaning up after himself, he just wants her to bust in and start fussing over him LMAO (MC: WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS LEONARDO?! Meanwhile Leonardo, an idiot full of uwus at the sight of his beloved exasperated, sitting in a pile of trash: Just according to keikaku)

As odd as it may sound, it’s almost like a weird reverse damsel in distress sort of dynamic? He carefully constructs situations where she can offer him help with the express purpose (and hope) that she will care enough to bust past his enfeebled defenses. It’s so oddly demure for this enormous punk of a man, but I find it adorable ;-;

Other ways he loves to show how he feels is to take her on trips or on little adventures. One of his favorite things to do is to watch her take in places he knows like the back of his hand--or even places new to him--with all the gleeful excitement of a little kid. It just warms him down to the marrow, and makes him have so much more fun than he ever could alone to see her buzz around nonstop. If he can encourage her to relax and take some time for herself in the process, to live for herself a little (she’s all too giving) then he considers the entire endeavor a success. All the effort is worth it if she can remember their time together with a smile Must You Hurt Me Like This, Leonardo.

One form of love that he will behead me for revealing is that he also sketches her all the time in his notebook, and will look to those little moments he’s captured whenever he’s feeling down or she’s not around.

He will have times where, if he can’t convey something properly with his actions or through making love, he will level with her. He will take the time to try to explain his feelings with accuracy, and in these moments he is both sincere and heartfelt. While it is a more rare expression of love for him, it is earth shattering when he does. Not only because his feelings run so deep, but also because these moments are unmistakably raw. Leonardo knows that vulnerability is a simultaneous boon and bane; it can inspire so much mutual joy, but it can also mean the exposure of lifelong wounds. It means acknowledging that these feelings are real. Even if she never takes advantage of the truth, he is aware of how precarious that position can be the more intense this love gets. It means facing how hollow he will feel when she's gone--something he works very, very hard to look away from.

(A related addendum because I have brainworms: The reason that people love and trust Leonardo is not primarily based in his intellect, fairly natural charisma, or good looks (though they are very compelling elements of his person). I think what people really see is how--though Leonardo sees through to the truth of peoples’ hearts in seconds--he keeps their secrets and treats them with so much respect/gentleness. It’s this odd capacity to be seen without feeling exposed that makes him such a remarkable and interesting man, and why he grows so close to everyone’s hearts. People feel understood without the need for words, feel cared for without a second thought. That being said, I think he needs someone who is similar. A person who sees all that he is on the surface, but barring that forges deeper still to find and cradle those parts of him that still need so much healing/care.

There’s a reason one of the greatest hits to his heart in his MS--one of the moments MC most powerfully gets through to him--is when she essentially says “Don’t give me that. Nobody ever gets used to loss. When something hurts, it hurts.” Whether she realized it or not, she penetrated straight to his heart with those few words. The truth is often much simpler than we might assume, and no matter how much experience one has with certain emotions--particularly grief and loneliness--no amount of experience makes them hurt any less. We only grow better at concealing or coping with age...)

N = Nightmare (what is his worst fear?)

I have a list (from Comte). I keep them alphabetized.

Jkjk, but if I’m honest I think this man has a good amount of fear inside him. I’d say the highest ones up there would absolutely be losing MC very suddenly, or being the reason--whether directly or indirectly--she gets hurt (like if his familia came after her to get back at him? he would be devastated).

If it is a timeline where he does choose to turn her, he’s beside himself at the prospect of the turning process going horribly wrong. It’s an unpredictable transition, and if she were to come back mentally broken or in constant pain (immortal wounds/aberrant) I think it would really fuck him up emotionally. He would blame himself without a doubt ;-; and that’s assuming she doesn’t hate his ass for the rest of eternity if it does go well (Leonardo I am begging you to use one brain cell)

O = Oddity (what is one quirk he has?) This one’s just a crack hc so if you were taking me seriously for any amt of this post, this is my suggestion that you stop

Leonardo is a man of many idiosyncrasies; among them an incapacity to dance and writing in a mirrored hand.

Another one is his absolute hatred for mint. One of Comte’s favorite things to do to mess with Leonardo is to stuff the drawers in his desk with peppermint candies to ward off his old friend and make him stop sleeping under his desk (like how people will use salt for demons!). He will also drink mint tea if he’s feeling particularly irritated with Leonardo’s antics, like if he’s received a ton of letters from Leonardo’s familia. Tells him to come to his office and the place is SUFFUSED in the scent of mint. Comte is just sitting at his desk with the stack, wearing that incorrigible look like “If I must suffer, so must you.”

One time--before MC was aware of this quirk--she had some chocolate that had mint in it after dinner. Leonardo kissed her without knowing (he came in late) and literally died where he was standing; he was biting his tongue to keep from gagging. MC just o: ???? because she’s never seen him make that grimace, especially after sharing a kiss. Comte was in fucking tears laughing at the head of the dining table while Napoleon and Sebastian were both fighting a smile--Arthur was outright wheezing. Isaac, blushing and coughing lightly into his fist, offers the explanation that Leonardo hates mint-flavored things and the scent of it makes him queasy.

W = Warrior (how does he feel about her fighting? Would he fight for her, beside her, etc?)

Man, this one’s tough, but if I’m honest I think he would be conflicted. On the one hand, he thinks it’s badass and hot as all fuck that she knows how to hold her own in a brawl; he can’t deny it’s sexy and reassuring (he has to resist the urge to gaud her into punching him). But. That knowledge also comes with a lot of concern. Was she in a place or around people that never once looked after her? Or was it a safety precaution? He will think deeply about the implications of her capabilities, and ask about it openly if he can’t deduce the reasons from afar. He will see it as very important information in regards to how to look after her properly.

That being said, I don’t think he would let his MC fight unless there was literally no other conceivable choice (say she was attacked while he wasn’t there or before he could intercept the blow). He would literally rather fall on a sword than see her get hurt. He’s durable and used to pain; he’d rather suffer and heal fast than see her sustain a single scar or bruise. Even if it makes her angry, he’ll take a hit and ask her to stay behind him every single time without fail. He’ll accept her frustration about it and will feel that it is perfectly valid to be annoyed with him. It still won’t make him budge, though.

Z = Zen (what makes him feel calm?)

Naps and lingering in bed well after morning with MC make this man happier and calmer than anything this world has ever seen. He loves that in those moments they aren’t thinking about anything else but each other, and he can indulge in the certainty of her presence in his life and so close to his heart. He can use the excuse of drowsiness to be tender, making love with a slow, devastating build to pleasure--hand entwined with hers against the sheets.

Failing that, he goes to things that stimulate his senses to find calm--he can’t really relax if his hands and/or mind aren’t occupied (i.e. cigarillos lmao). It’s why he’s often in the library; he’s always seeking new information and conundrums to sort out mentally if he doesn’t have the energy to go out and about. If he’s in his room he’ll be drafting diagrams, coming up with new concepts and architectural schematics, even making trinkets for MC or fixing something in the mansion. If he needs a change of scene or has the spoons, he’ll make a trip to town to help people with any problems that need solving, or find some excuse to go looking for and tease MC HAHA (he’s a little shit, but he’s our little shit úwù)

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp leo #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp hcs #ikevamp comte #ikevamp fluff #fluff headcanons #so like ik this is unhinged but also i hope you enjoy my nonsense?#tysm for sending in an ask it was a delight to do these for leonardo!#got carried away as usual but how does one not for this excellent bastard i salute him o7 #leonardo is just a roller coaster of a lover HAHAHA but that's not a bad thing~#here's to another day wishing i could hold him and tell him it will be okay **sighs**#rambles

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imaginedhaven · 4 years

Text

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Eleven

Link to Masterpost

Holy crap, we’ve cleared 50,000 words of this. Things are really starting to pick up now, so if I had to guess this will probably wind up being... maybe around 75k-80k in total? It still has to be WRITTEN, though, so... lol.

Also, we’re going to start earning that warning in the masterpost for canon-typical violence from here on out. Just so you’re aware.

Enjoy!

~*~*~

“So, let me make certain I have this absolutely clear,” Aedion drawled in a way that immediately set Rowan on edge.

Rather than reply and risk growling rather than speaking, he nodded, the movement tighter and less smooth than he would’ve liked.

“Aelin came here to Rifthold fully intending not only to continue her relationship with the prince, but to apprehend a criminal—not just any criminal, but an assassin—who was originally from Terrasen and moved to Rifthold.”

Rowan gritted his teeth and gave another silent nod.

“She elected to do this for reasons you are aware of, but that she has not told me and that you refuse to tell me.”

Another nod and another clenching of his jaw.

“And so the two of you have been sneaking out at night, which Captain Westfall”—the name came from Aedion’s lips as though it were a curse in and of itself—“condoned, if not outright allowed.”

The captain spoke up then. “Given the information presented to me, I had little other choice.”

“I’m not finished,” Aedion snarled, and the captain fell silent. “While you were sneaking around the slums of Rifthold, you got into more than one brawl, and you destroyed at least one business, which as of now still has yet to recover, if it ever will.”

This time it was harder to stifle the growl, but as Aedion’s expression didn’t change he must have managed it with at least some success.

“And then last night, it all finally comes to a head when Aelin allows herself to be abducted by said assassin. And you allowed all of this to happen.”

Rowan’s grip on his temper, already tenuous due to the nature of the situation, finally slipped enough for him to snarl at the other warrior. “Do not presume to think I made my decisions lightly,” he growled, “or that I have not spent a single moment wishing it could have been myself in her place.”

The shifter—Lysandra—delicately cleared her throat, and Aedion immediately turned his attention toward her. “If we’re done yelling at each other about whose fault it is,” she said pointedly, “then perhaps we can come up with a plan for how to handle the fact that our princess is missing?”

Rowan nodded shortly, and unfurled a roughly-sketched map of the city over his desk. He watched as the captain’s brow furrowed, likely at the idea that a foreign soldier had been able to acquire this much information about his city, but Rowan chose instead to focus on the plan he had been given. “Aelin’s request was that she be given twenty-four hours as a head start,” he began, “and I see the merit in that. If she’s not able to get the information she requires now, this assassin will go to ground and it could be years before we hear of him again.”

“It likely won’t be years,” the captain interrupted, ignoring Rowan’s scowl. “I did some research on my own into the man she’s hunting. He’s too proud to go completely unnoticed for that long.”

“Be that as it may, this is our best opportunity.” Rowan tapped on a building on his map. “She was taken here. Her captors didn’t notice me following them. It appears to be a stronghold of some sort, almost a guild hall for cutthroats and killers. I think it’s unlikely that they would move her from this place.”

“Unlikely but not impossible,” Aedion retorted. “We should keep an eye on the place.”

“Once you’re satisfied with my explanations, I intend to go there myself. If you can promise to adhere to the plan, you may join me.” He had long since given up on keeping the frosty bite from his tone, but he fisted his hand at his side to keep it away from his blades.

“And how can I trust that this is actually her plan?”

It was the mark of a good soldier and guard, to be skeptical of his statements. If this were any other situation, Rowan would even be grateful that Aelin had someone such as this as family and protector. But this was not any other situation, and Rowan carefully called up a hint of the ice that swirled within him in the hope that it would cool his temper before he killed Aedion. “Whatever Aelin did or did not tell you is between you and her, and I refuse to be pulled into that fight. The only thing that matters right now is making certain that she exits that building safely. Are you going to help with that or not?”

Aedion growled, eyes glinting in a way that strongly reminded him that this male was indeed related to Aelin of the Wildfire, but nodded. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as we’re finished here. Captain? Lysandra? Anything to add?”

Captain Westfall cleared his throat. “If I may, I can’t keep Dorian from noticing she’s missing all day long. Do we have a plan for that?”

Rowan frowned thoughtfully, and Aedion and Lysandra glanced at each other. “That’s a terrible idea,” the shifter said as if in response to some unspoken question.

“It’s the best one we have,” Aedion replied. “This entire plan, such as it is, hinges on secrecy. And you had best believe I’ll be having words with Aelin about coming up with better plans later, but right now we’re stuck with the mess she left us in.”

“Have we considered just telling Dorian?”

“No, he’s right,” the captain interjected. “The less Dorian knows about this for now, the better. He’s terrible at keeping secrets like that from his expression; if we tell him everyone will suspect something is amiss.”

Rowan quickly turned his attention to the guardsman, frown deepening. He very much suspected that this was not actually true, and that the prince was far better at keeping secrets than he wanted anyone else to believe. Perhaps the raw magic that lived in his core was less well-controlled than he had believed?

Ah, of course. The magic. It wasn’t public knowledge that the crown prince of Adarlan was burdened with such a strong gift of magic. It was likely the captain was aware of the secret, and didn’t want any upset to risk a flare-up of the young man’s power at an inconvenient time.

Rowan carefully set aside the thought that Aelin’s disappearance would possibly cause an emotional disturbance in the young prince that was severe enough to unleash his magic. Better to think his control was simply a work in progress like Aelin’s rather than wonder how close they could’ve possibly gotten in a few short weeks.

Lysandra sighed, interrupting his thoughts, and when he looked up at her he froze for a moment as Aelin’s face looked back at him.

It wasn’t truly Aelin’s face, though. Lysandra was trying to adopt her usual confident smirk, but the gesture looked stiff and unpracticed. If he looked more closely the color of her eyes was ever so slightly darker as well, and the scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose was in the wrong pattern. It was deeply unsettling to be looking at this face that both was and was not his carranam, and Rowan quickly looked away. “It should be close enough to fool the prince, for a short time,” he managed.

“So we’re decided, then,” Aedion declared.

“I still hate this plan,” the shifter cautioned.

Captain Westfall scowled as he stood. “It’s the only plan we have. I’ll do what I can to limit your interaction with the prince. I’m assuming you don’t want a guard sent to the building?”

Rowan nodded. “Best not to call attention to our movements. But be ready, in the event that we do not return.” He suspected all would be well, but it never hurt to have a backup plan.

The captain nodded, the motion tight and precise as he would expect from a soldier of the man’s status, and quickly left. “You can get there on your own?” Rowan asked Aedion.

The younger male stared at the map carefully, then nodded. “I can get there.”

“Good,” Rowan said. And then he flew from the room in a flurry of wings and frosty air.

~*~*~

“You take me to such nice places,” Aelin purred as Arobynn led her into another chamber, slightly larger than the previous one. Her arms and legs remained chained, but with slightly more freedom of movement she could carefully roll her shoulders and her ankles in preparation for moving quickly should an opportunity arise.

“Such a valuable player in the game should be treated with exactly the respect she commands,” Arobynn replied smoothly, though Aelin carefully suppressed a shudder at the bite beneath his words. She needed him to keep talking, to give her time to find the truth beneath the layer of lies she knew he would present.

“Well, I do believe the next move is yours. I await it eagerly,” she smirked.

She glanced at his face, focusing on the way his eyes didn’t move at all when he smiled. “I have a proposition for you, my dear.”

Oh, how she wished she could free a single arm. It was all she would need to make him regret the way he was speaking to her, as well as the bargain she believed he was about to suggest. Instead, though, she relaxed into one of the chairs as he sat in the other. “I’m listening.”

“See, we each have something the other wants,” he continued. “I have information I know you seek, and I would very much like you to stop being a pain in my ass.” Again, that undercurrent of rage slipped through his ironclad control, and Aelin hid another smirk. Riling people who claimed to have excellent self-control was a talent she had developed from the moment Aedion had come to their home from across the sea. It seemed this man was no exception.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” she replied.

“Ah, so you weren’t aware when you and your… companion… trashed the Vaults that I had a significant investment in the business?”

“One of your hulking brutes didn’t like that I beat him fair and square. I could hardly control what happened next.”

“And the safe being cracked open before you left?”

“Complete coincidence, I assure you.” She was well aware that he would have no proof it had been her who had broken open the safe, and she knew that refusing to admit to what he suspected would only make him more angry. That was good. She needed him angry enough to let information slip.

“I see. Then I presume you don’t want to know how your parents died?” Another biting remark overlaid with false sincerity, velvety smoothness underlaid with sharp fangs and claws.

Aelin went cold, sensation fading from her limbs as she stared at him. “I was there. My parents died of an illness.”

“Ah, yes,” he drawled, kicking his legs up and over the arm of his chair. “An illness no healer could cure, or so I heard. I had left Terrasen by then, of course, but word spreads quickly when rulers fall.”

Aelin bit her tongue to hold in a sharp reply before glancing back over at him, expression carefully uninterested. “And assuming I can believe you’re telling the truth,” she said, “what would you ask in exchange for this information?”

“Why, what could any man want from a lovely princess such as yourself?” he asked, and Aelin once more carefully mastered her own expression to hide any disgust. “You have power, and yet you cannot access it without aid. I have that information and more, and yet I lack the power that would ensure my own safety. I’m certain we can come to some kind of… arrangement.”

“That’s a high price you ask,” she replied. “And you haven’t done nearly enough to prove you’re worth such an arrangement. After all, it is I who would need to convince the lords of Terrasen to accept you. If you can’t convince me…” Aelin deliberately yawned, and cheered internally as Arobynn gritted his teeth, silver eyes alight with anger.

“If knowledge regarding your own parents isn’t enough to convince you,” he snapped, “then what about information regarding your former lover?”

“It’s quite bold of you to assume I did no investigating when I discovered his body,” she retorted.

“Ah, but I would wager you have yet to learn who bid me send him to Orynth in the first place, and who gave the command to cut his life so tragically short.”

The callous admission that he had passed that command along lit a fire in her veins, and she reached for it before recalling that she was bound in iron. The wildfire fizzled, mere sparks that slipped from her fingers. “And what assurance could you give me, that you would tell me and that you have proof?”

Arobynn stood, and Aelin did finally cringe as he slid two fingers under her jaw to tilt her head up. “My dear, do I look like a man who leaves anything to chance? You’ll have your proof once I have our agreement.”

Aelin jerked her head back, freeing herself from his grip. “That’s a shame, for there will be no agreement until you’ve presented your proof.”

Almost immediately, Arobynn’s casual expression melted into steely anger. “What a shame indeed,” he murmured. “Perhaps you would care to enjoy some more of my… hospitality… first.”

As the man stepped away and opened the door, someone else entered the room. Aelin carefully stood as well, but even with a single glance she knew this wasn’t a fight she would win. Not with her limbs and power both bound by the iron chains clamped around her ankles and wrists.

At Arobynn’s nod, the newest arrival to the room gave her a predatory grin and dragged her toward the wall. Her face made contact with the wall as he shoved her against it with a hand between her shoulders, and while she was stunned by the impact he attached her chains to hooks affixed to the wall. “Do let me know if you decide to change your mind,” Arobynn called, and then the door closed behind him as he left.

Aelin heard the sound of a whip cracking, and as if from a distance she heard herself screaming as fire spread along her back.

~*~*~

Lysandra finally relaxed into her role as she sat beside the prince for the evening meal. True to his word, the captain of the guard had kept him busy for most of the day, giving her time to overcome her nerves at having to pretend to be someone like Aelin. Oh, she had acted before. She had played roles for clients and courtiers alike, and she had certainly changed her face many times.

None of them had felt nearly as important as this. Everything was on the line, completely dependent on Dorian believing her performance as his potential future wife.

It’s only for one day, she reminded herself as her fingers twisted around each other. She had complete faith in Aelin’s ability to execute a plan, as well as Aedion and Rowan’s ability to keep her safe. It was up to her, now, to give them the time they needed.

Dorian’s parents seemed to be completely unaware of the swap, and Lysandra had spent enough time listening to Aelin’s tutors to be able to follow the light political conversation that was taking place. Even Dorian was engaging with her just as he would with Aelin, and when he grinned at an offhand remark she awarded herself another point for her acting.

As the meal came to an end, Dorian looked over at her again. “So tell me, did you want me to do something terribly predictable and show you the gardens? Or can we skip that part?”

Lysandra laughed in reply as Dorian grinned. “Perhaps another time. I still have to read several of the books you’ve loaned to me, if I hope to finish them during this visit.”

Dorian stood, then, and turned to face her with an ostentatious bow. “Then I hope you will grant me the honor of allowing me to escort you back to your rooms, Your Highness.”

Lysandra chuckled and shook her head in what she hoped came across as a fond gesture. “You’re impossible,” she accused.

The prince laughed in reply. “I assure you that I am not,” he said. “I am here, after all. Unless you’d care to discuss the philosophy of such a statement, of course.”

“I rather suspect we would be here all night,” Lysandra grinned back as she stood, allowing him to take her arm and lead her away.

It was easy enough to allow Dorian to escort her back to Aelin’s room after the evening meal, though she couldn’t help a moment of surprise when he followed her into the main seating area. He glanced at the book Aelin had left open on her desk, humming thoughtfully as he read a few sentences. “Ah. I thought so,” he muttered.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, mimicking Aelin’s easy grin as she relaxed into a chair halfway across the room.

He turned to her then, and a chill in the air matched the frost in his eyes. “If I invited you to share my bed tonight, shifter, would you demur like the princess you claim to be? Or would you say yes, believing she’s already given into my charms?”

~*~*~

In another situation, or if he were simply an observer and not a participant in this conversation, Dorian might have been amused at the nearly-comical widening of not-Aelin’s eyes. Instead, though, he only felt a cold rage at the deception.

To the shifter’s credit, she immediately dropped the guise of Aelin and returned to her usual appearance. “I told them this was a terrible idea and we should just tell you,” she grumbled. “What tipped you off?”

“A few things,” he replied, “though the most suspicious to me was that this book is open to where Aelin left off last night when I left. She hasn’t read it today.”

The shifter—Lysandra, if he was remembering correctly—nodded. “I didn’t think you would come back here,” she confessed.

Dorian sighed. “Why don’t you start by telling me exactly what it is you’ve all been keeping from me today, and why the captain of my guard appears to be working with you.”

That was the part that was the most shocking to him, if he were being truly honest with himself. He had never once had cause to question Chaol’s loyalty, and he didn’t want to begin now. He only hoped there was a reasonable explanation for why he had been so eager to ensure he spent as much time as possible embroiled in his training and studies.

As he thought about the possibility that his captain and friend was conspiring with these people, as good as he believed Aelin’s intentions to be, he had to take several deep breaths to stop a layer of frost from forming on his hands. His control over his magic was much better than it had been when it had first manifested, but strong emotional responses still riled the power that slept within him. Unless he wanted to entrust his deepest secret to agents of Terrasen, he needed to keep his feelings in check.

The frost finally ebbed, and the shifter began to speak. “Your captain is only involved insofar as to keep you removed from all of this,” she said quietly. “We provided him with enough information to ensure your safety, nothing more.”

“That still leaves a foreign princess, her most loyal soldier, and a blood-sworn of Doranelle in my capital city, with a purpose of which I am not aware, causing an unknown amount of chaos.” Dorian fought back a sigh at the thought of the headache this would no doubt cause for him, and that was if he was fortunate enough to avoid worse fates.

“They’re… dealing with a threat that could bode ill for you and Aelin both.” The woman was clearly trying to decide how much to reveal and how much to hide, and if he wasn’t the person she was trying to deceive in this manner he would have respected it far more.

“What is the nature of the threat?” he asked.

She sighed. “A former crime lord of Terrasen, who left a few short years before her parents died. He’s created a new home for himself in Rifthold, styling himself the King of the Assassins. She’s been attempting to find him for years, to bring an end to a career that’s gone on for far too long already.”

Dorian sighed. “And I presume if I ask you’ll have absolutely no idea why a crown princess of Terrasen is involved in hunting an assassin, and didn’t simply leave it to her warrior cousin.”

“It isn’t my story to tell,” she replied, looking away.

“Of course it’s not,” he grumbled. “Apologies. I believe you when you imply that this wasn’t your idea and that you’re only involved out of necessity. But this puts me in a… delicate situation.” That was an understatement; if word of Aelin’s actions got out it could be disastrous.

“I understand,” she sighed. “Which is why I wanted to tell you what I could.”

Finally, he nodded. “And when do we expect her to return?”

“By morning,” she answered.

“Very well. I will do what I can to keep this quiet and out of the public eye. But I will be asking Aelin about this later.” It was the best he could offer, and by the look on her face she understood completely.

Without another word, Dorian turned on his heel and returned to his office, asking a guard on the way to send Chaol to him. It appeared they had much to discuss.

~*~*~

“I detest this plan,” Aedion hissed in the direction of the hawk on the nearby roof as the sun began to set. “We should be going after her.”

The hawk took flight, circling the square before landing behind a box and turning into Whitethorn in a soft flash of concealed light. “We have to trust that Aelin can get herself free,” the warrior said. “We’re foreign actors in Adarlan’s capital city. If we break into that building without cause, it puts Aelin and her prince both in a difficult situation.”

It was interesting, how a subtle difference in Whitethorn’s tone was able to so clearly indicate that he wouldn’t mind causing a little trouble for the Adarlanian prince. “You don’t like Dorian,” he realized.

The statement earned him a scowl from his Fae companion. “I have no feelings one way or the other about the prince.”

“You realize my senses are better than a human’s, right? I could hear that you don’t like him.”

Whitethorn’s response was the carefully crafted words of someone used to diplomacy. “I have no reason to dislike him. And we’re not talking about this. It’s almost time.”

Finally. He’d hated sitting in this alley waiting for something to happen. “Time for what?”

“If Aelin is going to keep to her schedule, she’s about to make her next move.”

“You think she can get out of there without us?” It wasn’t that Aedion didn’t trust his cousin’s abilities. No, he knew she was a capable fighter and a powerful magic user. But he knew that she would be unlikely to use her magic unless absolutely needed, given the possibility of a tense political situation if she were recognized.

When he turned to face Whitethorn, the other male wore a small but ferocious grin, eyes positively glowing. “It’s not her I’m worried about,” he responded. “Anyone who crosses her on her way out will deserve exactly what she gives them.” And judging from the look on his face, Whitethorn would revel in their suffering.

The house they watched over was quiet, its occupants likely asleep given that their profession meant being out at all hours of the night. Aedion sighed. “I still don’t like this,” he admitted several minutes later.

“Given that I don’t like it either, I could hardly expect you to.” For all his posturing, and for all the strange glee that had come over him when he had spoke of what Aelin would do to those who crossed her, now the warrior was tense, eyes dark with what Aedion suspected was worry.

Even though the Fae beside him was sworn to a queen that was not his own, Aedion realized he wouldn’t rather have anyone else at his side for this particular mission. He had watched Whitethorn and Aelin grow close over the previous weeks, closer than anyone would’ve suspected. He didn’t know much about magic, but he suspected that sharing it as they could was a rare gift. If he could trust anyone to feel the same urgency he did to ensure she got out of this alive and as unharmed as possible, it would be this warrior.

Suddenly Whitethorn’s head tilted and his eyes narrowed, much like Aedion would have expected in the male’s other form. “What is it?” Aedion asked, only for the other male to gesture for his silence.

Soon enough, Aedion could hear it as well. There was shouting coming from inside the house, at least two masculine voices. He couldn’t make out the words, and based on Whitethorn’s expression he couldn’t either, but something had changed. As he watched, the warrior pulled two knives from his boots and twirled them gracefully around his fingers. It was a good choice, and Aedion went for his own knife as well, knowing his sword would be nearly useless in these cramped alleys. “We stay here,” Whitethorn was saying. “Those are male voices. I haven’t heard Aelin yet, which means they haven’t discovered her. We only go in if it’s absolutely necessary. When she leaves, she’ll come this way. If anyone else makes it this far…” The grim smile on his face indicated their fate clearly enough.

Three men burst through the door of the building, exchanging panicked instructions before departing in different directions, and Aedion and Whitethorn crouched behind a cart to conceal their presence. One man ran for the alley they had chosen for their hiding place, and before Aedion could do anything the Fae warrior was already in motion, clutching the man to him in a twisted parody of a lover’s embrace before drawing a blade across his throat. “They’ll notice when this one doesn’t come back,” he whispered as he dragged the man behind their cart. “We don’t have much longer.”

A slim figure stumbled out of the door next, and Aedion grinned. “We don’t need much longer. That’s Aelin.”

She was almost unrecognizable, golden hair turned red with blood and darkened with ash, but there was no mistaking the eyes that met his, pained but determined. Then those eyes shifted away and he knew she had seen Whitethorn standing beside him. From the sharp intake of breath at his left he knew the warrior had seen her as well, and soon he had abandoned all talk of secrecy to cross the small crossing in several quick strides.

Aelin moved, trying to meet him halfway, but her motions were fumbling and clumsy. She said something to the warrior that Aedion couldn’t quite hear, smiling up at him…

And then as he watched, she collapsed into the male’s arms.

Whitethorn quickly lifted her, carrying her into the alley and out of sight. By the time they reached Aedion she was already unconscious, either from pain or from exhaustion. Judging by her face, Aedion suspected it was a combination of both. “Get her out of here and back to the palace,” he said quietly, adjusting his grip on his knife. “I’ll stay here and make sure you’re not followed.”

Green eyes met his, clearly searching for something. Aedion didn’t know what the warrior was looking for, but finally he nodded and adjusted his grip on Aelin.

Before he could get far, though, Aedion called to him again. “Oh, and Whitethorn?”

“Yes?” he replied, expression tight with concern.

“Take care of her.” And then Aedion turned his attention back to the house with a grim smile. He didn’t know what its inhabitants may have done to his cousin, but he had absolutely no problems with delivering justice to any of them foolish enough to come his way.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows

#haven writes #rules of engagement #rowaelin

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

Text

Deep Blue Fantasy Part Two

Pairing: Merman!Tamaki Amajiki x fem!reader

Warnings: Uhh, there’s some angsty bits at the end I guess. Some drowning but no death

{Pt. 1} {Pt. 2} {Pt. 3} {Pt. 4} {Pt. 5} {Pt. 6} {Pt. 7}

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

After swimming for more than a full day, the two friends arrived at a trench.

"This is where it said she lived," Mirio remarked, glancing down at the flyer in his hands.

"There." Tamaki pointed to a faintly glowing cave on the opposite side.

They swam over to it, halting just at the entrance to peek inside.

A mermaid bustled around, jars clinking together as she held them in her arms before placing them on various shelves. Luminescent purple seaweed grew on the ceiling, throwing the cavern in a warm magenta light. Shelves and tables were scattered haphazardly around, overflowing with objects ranging in size and shape.

Mirio confidently swam in, giving powerful flicks of his tail while Tamaki trailed after him, keeping the movements of his own tail fast and small. Mirio sent a ping in the mermaid's direction, getting her focus enough to turn around.

Light periwinkle hair floated around her head, perfectly framing a round, cheerful face. She appeared to be the same age as the two mermen, which surprised them.

"Hi!" she waved, swimming up to them still holding an armful of jars. "How can I help you?"

"Would you know how to turn a merman into a human?" Mirio asked.

A jolt went through her body in reaction to Mirio's question. Some of the jars fell out of her grip and slowly sank down in the water around her. Tamaki bent to pick them up, but the mermaid paid no attention to them.

"That kind of stuff . . . ? It's complicated," she muttered. "It's not the most legal thing either . . . ."

Mirio slumped, having let his hopes grow for his friend.

"But it's not impossible!" The mermaid's demeanor changed back to bubbly and bright. "I hear of it happening quite a lot on the black market! You're lucky I'm not a crab in the muck when it comes to following rules like that. Is it for you?"

Mirio glanced at Tamaki. "Not quite. It's for my friend here."

The blue-haired mermaid finally looked at him. Tamaki offered her jars back to her, a sheepish look on his face.

"I see," she said, accepting them. "What do you plan to do with a pair of human legs?"

Tamaki blushed, floating backward a bit and fidgeting with his hands before answering. "There's this girl on the island—"

"A GIRL?!" The mermaid barreled into him, dropping all her jars now in order to take hold of Tamaki's shoulders. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?!" She shook him a little hard, her loud voice pinging around in the water.

"Uhh—" Tamaki began, made extremely uncomfortable in his situation.

"You're in love!" she practically sang, finally leaning back out of his face.

"Hey," Mirio clicked, putting a gentle hand on the girl's arm, having noticed his friend's distress.

Unfazed, she turned to him, clasping her hands together. "And you're the wingman-best friend! How adorable! I have never been so excited to help a customer before!" Finally she backed up, exiting the boys' personal space. "I'm Nejire Hado. It's a pleasure doing business with you!" She extended a hand to Mirio, who shook it, smiling.

"I'm Togata Mirio, and this is my friend Amajiki Tamaki."

Tamaki waved as Nejire's eyes turned to meet his at the mention of his name.

"So let's see," she signed, releasing Mirio and fully turning her attention to his friend. "You're trying to impress a human girl, so you're going to want to look pretty human. Come with me."

She led them deeper into the cave and around a bend that had been invisible from the outside. This room was far smaller and darker compared to the main one, and Tamaki needed a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. The merpeople could naturally see in the dark, but even this was proving difficult for him.

Nejire swished her tail over a patch of algae growing on the floor. The disturbance in the water around it caused it to glow a deep blue, somewhat raising the light level in the room.

"So you want to turn into a human." Nejire leaned forward, her face pensive as she held her thumb and forefinger to her chin. The blue glow of the floor eerily underlit her features. "Have you met this girl? Like actually talked to her?" she asked.

Tamaki swallowed. "No, not yet."

"So you won't want a potion. Those don't tend to last." She turned from him and went to a shelf on one of the slanting walls. Nejire selected a chest from the shelf and pulled it down. She then turned to a small table near her, clearing its surface with a swipe of her arm before setting it down. Trinkets slowly floated down to the floor below, the algae glowing even brighter to mark where they settled. The mermaid opened the chest, rummaging around for a minute, occasionally placing an object on the table next to it.

"Aha!" Nejire lifted a necklace out of the chest, her eyes glimmering at her find. It was a simple cord with a single shell intricately tied to the center of it. "This should do the trick," she said, closing the chest and swimming back up to the boys. "Just put it on and you'll have legs! You'll also be able to speak to the first human that touches you, so make sure it's her."

"Awesome!" Mirio said, studying the necklace. "How much for it?"

Nejire faltered for a moment. "You're right. I'm really not supposed to sell this . . . my mother . . . . How much do you have?"

Mirio gripped the bag that was slung around his shoulders. It held the combined majority of both his and Tamaki's savings, which, to say the least, wasn't much. Tamaki had tried to insist that Mirio didn't have to help him in payment, but they both had to admit, something as rare and challenging as turning a merman into a human was going to be pricey at minimum.

The blond merman held out the bag to the mermaid, allowing her to take it and peek inside. She frowned and looked up at Tamaki. "You like this girl?"

He nodded, vigorously.

"You're going to treat her right?"

"Of course!"

She flexed her gills. "It's settled then. I'll only take half your money for it."

Mirio's eyes shone in the blue light. "Really?"

"It's for love." Nejire leaned back, clasping her hands together and waving her caudal fins. "I wish someone could do that for me . . . . No matter. I will want it back though."

"What?" Tamaki asked.

"You see," the mermaid said, running her fingers along the side of their bag, "there's a bit of a catch to the magic."

Tamaki and Mirio both stiffened, wondering what new obstacle they would have to overcome.

"The magic only lasts for one full cycle of the moon," she continued, glancing back up at the men before her. "Once your time is up, you won't be able to use it anymore. I would like to have it back by then, so someone else might enjoy it."

"A moon? That's it?" Tamaki asked, growing nervous. Well, more nervous than usual.

"Yes. Put it on, thirty days later you can't have legs anymore. That's how it works."

"But—isn't there something a little more . . . permanent?" Tamaki asked.

Both Nejire and Mirio looked at him.

"You want to be human . . . forever?" Mirio asked.

"I just want to be with her!" Tamaki said, suddenly defensive. "I don't care if I'm a merman or not, I just want to be able to meet her and talk to her. Geez, guys, I don't even know if she likes me back!"

"Tamaki." Mirio pulled him a length away from Nejire, who suddenly became very interested in studying the coins in their bag. He turned his back to her, hunching his shoulders so it would be more difficult for her to make out his hand gestures. "What if you do decide you like her? Is that going to be it? Am I going to lose you?"

Tamaki's gills flared. He hadn't thought of it like that yet. "No! Of course not! I can still visit . . . sorta. Besides, it's not like you'll be alone. You get along with everyone—"

"But you're my best friend, Tamaki," Mirio put one of his hands on Tamaki's shoulder, looking into his eyes in earnest. "I want you to be a part of my life."

Tamaki swallowed, his gills gently pulsing. "Isn't it a little early for talk like this? We don't even have a solution. I could get up there and she's already wed to someone else."

"He's right."

The two of them jumped at the clicks and pings breaking the silence of the cave. Nejire had, in fact, been watching them.

"You have a month to figure this out," she said. "It's useless to fret now."

"A month . . . ." Tamaki echoed.

She playfully slapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, that's plenty of time! You're already head over fins for her! That's like, a third of the work. Woo her with your charmingly awkward personality! You'll be a couple of kissy gouramis in no time!" (Google it)

Tamaki blushed at the image, turning to hide his face in his hands.

Nejire swam back to her table and poured out the coins, counting them up and dividing them in half. She swept one pile back into the bag along with the necklace, thrusting it into Mirio's hands. "Now go!" she said, pumping a fist up in the water. "Find love!"

Tamaki peeked out from under his fingers, watching as she somersaulted in the water.

Nejire paused for a moment, pointing accusingly at him. "Whatever you do, don't. Lose. The pendant. That's the only rule. Bring it back when you're done, and I won't say anything. Deal?"

Tamaki nodded, seeing Mirio clench the bag around his shoulders a little tighter in his grip.

"What would happen if I took it off?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the bag. "Would it end early?"

Nejire waved a hand. "You can take it off and turn back into a merman anytime, it won't affect anything. But I'm serious about you not losing it. Try not to take it off too much."

"Okay," Tamaki agreed, returning his eyes to hers.

"Is that all?" Nejire finally asked, cocking her head.

All? I'm completely changing my life . . . .

"Yes," Tamaki said, allowing a small smile onto his face as he nodded. "Thank you so much."

"No problem." Nejire beamed.

"Nejire?" Mirio asked.

The mermaid turned, looking at him questioningly.

"Have you ever been human before?"

She offered him a small smile. "Not yet. Maybe someday when I'm older." She grinned wider and patted Tamaki's shoulder. "Be sure to tell me all about it when you bring my pendant back to me! Give me some pointers for how to blend in. Or maybe I shouldn't blend in. That would be fun. Seeing all those land people and being like 'Hi humans!' Do you think they would stare at me? Would they kill me? Isn't it exciting just thinking about it? Are you excited? I'm excited for you. Are you going to tell her you're actually a merman or keep it secret? Ooh, I already can't wait to hear how it goes!"

Tamaki's back hit the wall, a nervous smile on his face as the bubbly mermaid pushed him farther back with each question radiating off her flying hands. "Uhh, sure."

"Come on, Tamaki!" Mirio pinged, already near the entrance back into the main room. Tamaki sheepishly ducked around her to follow after his friend. "Thank you!" Mirio called behind his shoulder.

"My pleasure!" Nejire clicked back.

The two exited her cave, beginning on the long journey back home.

✤✤✤✤✤

"Ready?" Mirio asked, holding the necklace up for Tamaki to see.

The black-haired merman swallowed, shaking his head.

"Come on, Tamaki. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Everything."

Mirio frowned. "Okay, maybe you have a point. Let's just run over the plan one more time. Sound good?"

"Yeah."

The two friends were about half a mile from the shore, just able to see the edge of the black rocks leading up to the island. The sea was darker than usual today, which only reflected on Tamaki's mood. He didn't like the way the surface of the water moved above their heads, but Mirio assured him he had nothing to worry about.

"You're going to swim towards the surface and put this on. Then you're going to meet her and confess your feelings! You show her how awesome you are and maybe take her out or something, and then boom! She'll love you back. Guarantee."

Tamaki chewed on the inside of his lip, eyeing the shell hanging on the necklace. "How should I say it? What should I tell her? I can't exactly confess to having been watching her for almost two months!"

Mirio tapped his chin. "True . . . . Just tell her that she's really pretty and you like her a lot and you want to get to know her. Simple as that."

"Simple . . . . Should I tell her I'm a merman?"

Mirio put on his thinking face again. "Maybe not right away—although lying is never a good idea. Maybe just wait to mention it? Nah, you should tell her."

"She'll just think I'm crazy."

"Then take off the necklace and show her! It's not that hard."

Tamaki mulled over his friend's words in his mind. They were slightly comforting, sure, but he couldn't help but feel near sick with how nervous he was. Him? Alone? In a completely different world with his crush? That just smelled like disaster to him, and every nerve in his body was screaming to swim away.

And yet, his heart . . . it had different feelings. Tamaki thought of your angelic face and how your voice carried over the water into his ears. He longed to join you on that beach, clasping your hand in his and intertwining his voice with yours.

"You can do it! You can do it!" Mirio chanted before him, snatching Tamaki out of his thoughts.

"Alright, I'm going."

Mirio flipped in the water, unable to contain his excitement. "Good. She'll be there in a few minutes, right?"

Tamaki nodded.

"Make sure you get there first. And don't let anyone else touch you until she does."

Tamaki nodded again.

"Don't forget to come visit me!" Mirio teased. "I want to meet her too! Good luck!"

Tamaki took the necklace from his hands, finally turning away from his friend. He swam out into the rocks, just as he'd done nearly every day since he'd first caught a glimpse of you. He took one last look at his friend, who was already little more than a speck in the distance.

Tamaki glanced down at his tail for what would be the last time in . . . a moon? Hopefully. He liked his tail. It was a deep indigo that would sometimes look almost black when the light shifted off of it. Purply-blue frills came off the sides, shifting with the motion of the water. He was sad to see his tail go, but he knew it wouldn't be for forever. He took a final deep breath of seawater, slipping the necklace over his head, ready for what the next month would ensue.

Actually, he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready at all.

A burning sensation erupted in his tail, making Tamaki's back arch in shock. It felt like his scales were being individually sucked back into his body as pale skin the same shade of his top half began to spread along its surface. It began to split in half; muscles and bones reworking themselves, shrinking and expanding and duplicating. His lower region suddenly went completely numb, as if he'd been severed at the navel. He went still, just floating in shock, wondering if it was over until a new sense of feeling flared through him.

The water he was encased in was suddenly cold, so cold Tamaki couldn't take it, curling in on himself and trying to wrap his arms around his chest. He tried taking in a breath, and at first, it worked, but then his gills laid flat against his neck, fading flush into his skin. He could feel his lungs growing within him, expanding to fill his chest cavity. The newly adjusted organs burned, aching for air which he could not provide. A small stream of seawater flooded his mouth, making him spit it back out again at the overwhelmingly salty taste. He needed to get to the surface. Why had he done it so far away?

Silently cursing himself, Tamaki tried to kick his way up. His new legs felt clumsy and weak; nothing compared to the powerful tail he was so used to. He began to use his arms, eventually finding a rhythm that successfully brought him closer to air. But it wasn't fast enough. His vision was already fading, his pulse throbbing in his ears. Finally his head broke the surface, allowing him to suck in a breath before a wave crashed over his head, pushing him back down. Tamaki couldn't take it anymore, using the last of his strength to desperately try to cling to a rock near him. He missed in his exhausted state, and another wave pushed him closer to shore, his head colliding painfully with one of the black rocks.

Deprived of oxygen, more exhausted than he'd ever been in his entire life, and now with a horrible, stinging pain encompassing his skull, Tamaki finally slipped into the darkness that had been calling his name.

...

To be continued . . . .

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

[Part Three]

Author's Note:

Sorry, not sorry ｡◕‿◕｡

-Sugar

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#tamaki #amajiki #tamaki amakiji #mermaki #tamaki bnha #tamaki amajiki bnha #tamaki mha #tamaki amajiki mha #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #deepbluefantasy #sugar fics #tw: drowning

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starthornisscratching · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Australia/New Zealand (Hetalia) (mentioned) Characters: Sealand (Hetalia), England (Hetalia), New Zealand (Hetalia), Australia (Hetalia), Wy (Hetalia), Seborga (Hetalia), Rome (Hetalia) (mentioned) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Sealand gets beat up oh no, Fights, Big Brother England (Hetalia), Blood and Injury, Violence Series: Part 3 of Starthorn's Whumptober 2021 Summary:

Peter is being bullied at school, what on Earth is his older brother to do?

--- This was the first one I wrote. :)

Read under if you want

Peter and his older brother Arthur had never been extremely close, even if Peter tried very hard to make their conversations more natural- their interactions less forced.

Maybe it had something to do with the situation they were in rather than the people themselves that made it so terrible. That was what Peter liked to think, anyway. (After all, who could blame his older brother for being distant sometimes? The pair lived alone, and Arthur’s life was infinitely more stressful due to having to take care of his little brother. Maybe he was salty about that and their relationship was a little strained because of it.)

Again, Peter wasn’t ever mad at this… well. Yeah, yeah he was. He got angry about the topic pretty often, and became very defensive about it whenever anyone other than him or his brother brought it up. He was mad about that sour look Arthur gave him whenever they ran low on food- like it was his fault. He was mad about the pitying stares the parents at the PTA meetings would give them both- the ones that Arthur seemed to hate so much. He was mad that they had to be alone too, maybe most of all.

So of course it was a bit of a soft spot for him, the fact that it was just him and his brother. (And that they couldn’t manage to be friends.)

Of course, as kids at school do, some of the not-very-nice people in his classes began to catch on to this after not too long. After that it rose to a whole new level of ‘sensitive topic’, mostly because people were actively making fun of him for it. (Those teases could really sting, much worse than any physical injury he had ever encountered. Who ever came up with that dumb old saying anyway? Whenever he heard that one he felt a little bit… ill. He wanted to yell at whoever had made it up, scream and remind them that “hey! Words can hurt too!” But alas, the saying was taken from an anonymous source.)

Maybe even worst of all, the bullying had ‘leveled up’ recently. It wasn’t even just teasing now, as it had started to morph into a physical damage source too- a thing that caused him bruises on his shoulder blades and the top of his arms. (Being shoved into walls and the edge of lockers wasn’t something he’d recommend to anyone- and he’d had the opportunity to get a free trial of the experience many, many times over.)

He’d mentioned it a few times at the dinner table, but Arthur didn’t seem to really be paying attention whenever he had the courage to bring it up. He was either checking the newspaper or cramming for tests, but he always mumbled some sort of weak response. “Shove a coat hanger up their nose next time” and “just unlock the locker from the inside, what do you mean” had to be Peter's top favorite pieces of advice he’d ever received from a sleep deprived adult.

But it was starting to get so bad that Peter could no longer ignore the small cuts on the backs of his hands, the ones left from fighting his way out of the grasp of the aggressors. He couldn’t ignore the strange looks his friends, Flavio and Emma, gave him whenever he showed up for school with a giant bruise on his face, or a black eye. He couldn’t ignore the fact that even his brother, who was usually so distant, seemed to stare at him when he thought the younger wasn’t looking (searching to see what was wrong, because something certainly felt wrong).

Blind to this all, were most of the people who worked at the school.

Not all of them, of course, but many. (His history teacher had pulled him aside one day and asked him why he kept showing up with injuries he hadn’t had at the start of the day, asking if something was wrong at home or if he was being bullied. He shook his head at this, and tried to smile to assure the woman that it was okay, though he wasn’t fully sure that it had worked.)

But at the moment, that was the least of his worries because there was something more important to worry about; the foot about to collide with the side of his head. His breath caught in his throat as he rolled out of the way, breaking out of the grasp of those holding him only because they hadn’t expected him to move.

The boys who were surrounding him started shouting, and it was barely three seconds before someone shoved him back down again and swung his boot into Peter’s side.

He could barely hear their jeering laughter as he cried out in pain, and then the boot collided with his side again and again, and again. Each time it hit him the cheering and yells of insults from the bullies around him got louder, and the world around him shook even though he had his eyes squeezed shut.

His arms had been brought upward to protect his head, but someone’s hands grabbed them and pulled them away just as someone else stomped on his stomach- hard. First he gasped in surprised agony, flinging his eyes open, and then the foot came down again and he felt the breath shoved out of his lungs.

It hurt.

Panicked, and now unable to get in enough air, he took in short gasps of breath and tried to squirm away. But the boys around him held fast, multiple boots and shoes kicking him at the same time now, sending shots of pain through his bones.

He couldn’t even scream, couldn’t even cry. He was too shocked, when had it gotten to this point? It had never gone this far before!

Luckily, because his arms were at the sides of his head due to the boy yanking them up, no one had managed to kick him in the head yet. Still, he could feel bruises forming, and maybe even cuts on his forearms from the fingernails of the boy holding him in place.

The one holding him there was pulling his arms up into the air, lifting his head and parts of his upper body off the ground. This made just the right amount of space for some of the bullies' feet to kick and stomp at his ribs, and God that stung!

Even though he hadn’t gotten his breath back yet he started to struggle, he needed space and time to breathe. He was starting to feel dizzy from lack of oxygen as well as the pain- he was going to pass out at this point! (And he doubted any of the boys attacking him would care, or even notice. There was only so much physical damage they could do to his body when he had a way to protect it, but once he was out that was it.)

He tried to beg them to stop, but no sound came out of his mouth and his eyes rolled back before he squeezed them shut. “P...lease,” was all he managed to rasp, but no one heard it over the sounds of their own laughter and shoes colliding with flesh.

So he struggled harder, not caring about the feeling of the skin on his arms being pulled the opposite way he was moving. It hurt, but it was no worse than the pounding in his head from lack of air.

His face was turning more and more red as he gasped for breath, hearing the shouts of the boys around him getting louder and louder. He felt like he could hear everything, and yet nothing at all. Why was he suddenly acutely aware of the chirping of a bird in a nearby tree? Or how the pounding of blood through his ears sounded all too similar to the hits to his sides that shook his entire body?

And just as the world was starting to blink into darker tones, just as it was dripping out of view, the air in his lung came crashing back and he could breathe again. His first gasp brought sparks of white to his eyes, and he felt a pain in his head totally unlike the feeling of the air being gone.

The shock of suddenly having oxygen again.

And, not so slowly, he started to become more conscious than before. The chirping of the bird was long forgotten, and the pounding in his head had disappeared.

Peter’s eyes snapped open as he found new strength, unfortunately becoming far more aware of how much his body hurt as well. At least, he might have thought, that served as a reason to fight harder than he ever had.

The pain crescendoed and he twisted in the grasp of the boy with a hold on his arms, bending them and pulling his body up higher, using the strength of the bully’s hold to his advantage. Peter kicked his legs out, hitting the two boys closest to him in the knees and calves, and then crunched his own knees up to his chest.

Now the jeering shouts of the bullies had morphed into panicked yells of “he’s getting away!” and “keep holding on!”

He screamed out as he finally twisted out of the grasp of the one holding him, the other’s had stopped kicking him too, so he had space to jump to his feet. With the adrenaline coursing through his body he didn’t really feel the pain that radiated from every movement, but he was vaguely aware of an ache worse than the others in his left side.

Before the boys who still stood around him could think of what to do, every one of them had frozen in surprise at his sudden fight, he burst into a run. Pushing between two of them he raced down the sidewalk at a speed that his gym teacher would surely be proud of.

He could hear their shouts and calls from behind him, and even the sound of a few running after him, but a different type of pounding in his head quickly drowned all those noises out. The soles of his shoes smacked against the pavement and his thin, slightly bloodied, T-shirt whipped around his sides.

It wasn’t long before the sounds of the people behind him faded out, and eventually he slowed to a walk.

As soon as he did he wished he hadn’t, for once the adrenaline started to seep out of him the pain returned. And it was a lot of pain, probably made even worse by all that fast movement.

Even his knees ached, and he was pretty sure no one had kicked him directly in the knees, at least not too much. When he looked down at his forearms, lifting them- shaking- in front of him, he realized that the skin was red from twisting his arms. Not only that either, because he could see the beginnings of bruises laying over old ones, probably from how hard he had been held in place- and how hard he had fought to get out.

Next, he inspected his chest, feeling a pang in his heart when he lifted his thin shirt to properly look down at it. There were splotches of blood on the torn fabric, and through one of the holes he could see a dark bruise already formed on his side. And not even his ribs, just the soft part of his side near his hips. The bruise continued below the top of his pants too, so there was probably a mark on his hip to match with the hot sweat-like feeling of pain coming from the area.

He felt tears welling up in his eyes, how could anyone be so cruel? What had he ever done wrong? What made them hate him so much that they spent their time after school kicking him around the sidewalk, that they found some sort of sick joy in seeing the agony on his face?

For the life of him, he could never understand that.

But he didn’t have time to think about that, he had to get home. He had to rest, maybe even treat himself to a bowl of that really sugary cereal Arthur wouldn't let him have in the mornings. Yeah, he thought- a shaky sigh quaking through his entire body, that would be nice.

If he was lucky enough Arthur wouldn’t even be home yet and he could have time to cry without needing to explain what was wrong. He tried to think that that would be great, after all Arthur wasn’t supposed to come home until late that night so he couldn’t exactly control it, but something in him twisted at the idea of being alone. That was weird, he normally loved being by himself, having time on his own…

But something inside him dug into the small, sad, child that he was, and he bit his lip in a sad attempt to fight the tears down.

He didn’t need to be alone, he needed his big brother.

---

It had been a very long day for Arthur, even if his boss had let him off the hook super early and go home. (She had probably felt bad because he had to study for even more college tests and he had been working late hours for the last couple of work days to get more credit- so she had told him that he was allowed to leave after all his tasks for the day were done.) He had finished them all relatively quickly and headed home immediately after signing out for the day.

She was a great person to work with, so surprisingly understanding!

Peter should have gotten home from school an hour earlier, but he wasn’t home yet.

Arthur wasn’t too worried about Peter, he had probably just gone to a club meeting or gotten help with the math homework Arthur had asked him to ask the teacher about. Either of those things were good, he seemed so distant recently, even more so than normal.

So he changed into a more comfortable sweatshirt and made himself a sandwich.

Once thirty more minutes had passed and Peter still hadn’t come home, Arthur was starting to get a little worried. After school classes didn’t usually last this long, he knew that- he had gone to that school too.

Eventually the anxieties that came with not knowing where his baby brother was took hold of him and he got off the couch where he had been sitting for the last ten minutes waiting for his brother to get home or to get up the courage to study like he was supposed to. He went over to where he had plugged in his phone and took the cord out, dialing the number of Peter’s friend Flavio’s slightly older brother Veneciano.

The man picked up almost immediately, only on the second ring with a joyous chirp of, “Hello? This is Vene- oh Arthur! Hi, how’re you doing?”

There were crackling noises on the other end of the phone, and just as Arthur tried to speak the Italian quickly interjected and apologized for the background noise- saying that Flavio and Romano were cooking dinner that day. Arthur felt his throat tighten and managed to croak out a few words, “Frankly not too good, is Peter with you?”

Veneciano was quiet for a beat, then seemed to cock his head to the side. “He’s not with you?” the brunet questioned, before hurrying to add a bit more so the Brit wouldn’t panic. “Have you asked Liam or Ari? Peter might be hanging out with Emma, but we haven’t seen him today,”

“Okay,” Arthur tried to swallow his fear, throat shaking, “I’m going to call the school, can you call one of them and get back to me?”

“Of course,” Veneciano nodded, “But I don’t want to interrupt your phone call with the school, so when do I-”

Arthur interrupted with his answer, “They always take forever to pick up, and I need to find the phone number of the front office anyway. They don’t like sending me the parent emails,”

Veneciano hummed understandingly, “Grandfather-” (here he was referring to his father, Romeo, who he called his grandfather for whatever reason) “-used to not get them, and now that he’s moved back to Italy for a while we don’t get them much either,”

Forcing a laugh at this, Arthur rubbed his arm, “Okay, don’t worry. I’ll find it, you just have to ask if Peter is with Emma, oh! And I’d call Ari if I were you- he picks up his phone more than Liam,”

“Good idea,” Veneciano nodded, “I’ll do that. Good luck with the school!”

“Thanks,” Arthur sniffed, and then ended the call with a shaky sigh. Peter didn’t always tell him if he was going to hang out with Flavio or Emma because he was rather forgetful about those types of things, but it was weird that Liam or Ari hadn’t called him if he was at their place so Arthur had a sneaking suspicion that Peter wasn’t over there.

“Okay,” he said to himself in what was supposed to be a calming way, “Just get the number of the front office, that’s not too hard,”

First he scoured his recent emails from the school, but none of them were about how to contact the front office. Second, he opened the phonebook to see if it was in there. (At this point he was starting to question if he should skip calling the school and jump straight to the police, but he knew deep down that they probably wouldn’t do anything because Peter hadn’t been gone for over twenty four hours.)

Before he could either find the number for the school or think too hard about calling 999, he got a call on his own phone. It was Veneciano and he felt his heart swell. Maybe Peter was over with Emma! Maybe he didn’t have to worry.

He picked up the call and lifted the phone to his ear, “Hi Vene,” he sighed, “what did they say?”

Veneciano sighed too, sounding tired, “Ari hasn’t seen Peter today, and neither has Liam. They asked Emma as well but she last saw him walking down the hall after third block- how's your luck with the school?”

Arthur tried to calm the panic rising in his chest, “Well, I haven’t got their phone number yet, so not great,”

“Hm,” the brunet seemed to be thinking hard, then clicked his tongue, voice quieting as he turned away from the phone. “Romano? Can you check to see what the number of the front office is?” Arthur heard Romano respond with a quick ‘sure’ before Veneciano turned back to the phone. “I’m sure Peter’s fine Arthur, try not to panic okay? If we stay calm we’ll be able to find him faster,”

“Okay,” Arthur breathed, closing his eyes and running a hand through his hair.

After not too long Vene spoke up, “I’m going to hand you off to Romano okay? He’s got the phone number,”

“Okay,” Arthur repeated, sounding like a broken record.

Then it was Romano on the other end, “Hey Arthur,” his voice was softer than Arthur had ever heard it before, “How’re you doing? You don’t have to answer that,” he added the last part in a slightly rushed way. “I’ve got the phone number for the school and Vene, Flavio and Liam are going out to look for Peter- in case he just got lost, okay?”

“Right,” Arthur broke the pattern of only saying ‘okay’ and Romano started to read off the number to him. He copied it down onto a piece of paper and thanked the other rather weakly, still consumed by worry.

“Do you want me to head over to your house?” Romano asked, still uncharastically patient. “It might help to calm you down if you’re not alone,”

“No, I’m okay,” Arthur swallowed, “And you’re cooking, right? I don’t want to have you stop making dinner in the middle of doing it,”

Romano hummed, sounding oddly similar to his younger brother when he was worried, “Alright, just call me if you feel like you’re panicking,”

“Will do,” Arthur nodded, feeling sick.

---

Peter’s feet seemed to flash in and out of his vision as the exhaustion began to properly catch up with him. It felt like he was lugging around a fifty pound weight, and with a pang he realized he didn’t have his backpack.

He tried to think back to where he might have left it, but his memory was flickering and it hurt to think so hard- so he stopped. Likely he had left it in a classroom because he knew the boys who always tormented him would be waiting for him, so it should have been safe. He sighed, which hurt a little because of how it shook his aching ribs, too bad he didn’t have his homework.

Maybe he could get to the class fast enough the next day to finish it?

Shaking his head (instantly regretting this too) he ignored that thought. His first priority was to get home. Clean up his bruises and cuts before his brother got the- before the older could see them.

Again, he felt that childish pang in his heart. He just wanted someone to hug, someone to assure him that it was going to be alright, someone who could bandage the source of most of the blood. He sniffed mournfully and rubbed his bruised arms in protection against the cold autumn air, feeling a stronger, fever-like shiver run through his still-aching body.

Gosh, he hoped he would make it to the end of the street without passing out- that was where his and Arthur’s house was. He just had to make it a little further… just a few more sidewalk squares.

His chest tightened and he coughed, feeling an agonizing shock of pain radiate through his beaten body. Grasping his arms around his chest, he bent over and curled into himself, waiting out the excruciating pain before continuing. However, even once he had started his hobbling walk again he didn’t let go of his sides, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around himself for protection that he didn’t get to have when he needed it.

The tears were welling up in his eyes again and he shivered. But the tears felt hot, just like the blood which was still seeping steadily into the thin fabric of his shirt on his left side.

He just wanted his brother!

---

“No, I haven’t seen him since I dropped him off at school this morning,” Arthur was feverishly answering the questions of the man on the other end of the phone, “No, I don’t usually get home from work this early- but he would tell me if he’d was going to be gone for this long!”

“Are you sure? Maybe he went out,” came the crackling reply of the other.

Arthur’s face started to heat up again and he pressed his arm harder against his chest, “Sir I know my brother, he loves the days when I’m scheduled to get home after him- I find him watching TV every time, he never leaves for this long!”

“And you’ve checked with the guardians of his friends?”

“Of course I did,” Arthur snapped, “That was the first thing I thought to do, and some of them are out looking for him in their neighborhoods right now,”

They continued arguing, the volume of both getting steadily louder as they both became more and more annoyed and distressed.

And then the door swung open.

It was Peter, standing there and looking so small in the space- his small frame shaking with heavy breaths. He made eye contact with his older brother, tear filled blue eyes finding panicked emerald ones. Arthur’s mouth fell slightly open and his arm, which had been pressed feverishly against his heaving chest, relaxed just a little bit.

Peter could hear the voice of another person on the other side of the phone his brother was holding. “Mr. Kirkland?” it asked, “What is it?”

Arthur seemed to be brought back to reality by this, and he struggled to get an answer in. “I’m- he just came home-” his eyes searched over his little brother, who was still frozen in place with surprise. Then they snapped with worry, seeming to suddenly take note of all the bruises and cuts. “Oh my God, what happened to you?!”

He dropped the phone on the counter and ran over to his brother, not seeming to care about how terrifying this might have been for the man on the other side of the phone to hear with no context.

Peter finally seemed to understand that his brother really was there, and the tears that had been squinting in the corners of his eyes finally started to fall. He sobbed as Arthur led him inside, gently and by the arm- careful to avoid as many obvious bruises as he possibly could. It didn’t matter that he was a middle schooler anymore, because in that moment he felt just like the child that would fall off bikes and need his reluctant older brother to put a bandage on the scrape.

He felt so helpless- but here was his savior! Here was his older brother, here to help him so he didn’t have to be alone.

Arthur sat him down on one of the kitchen chairs, pressing his own forehead against Peter’s smaller one. The older was quiet save for the soft, tearful, murmurs of apologies which were mostly drowned out by the younger’s sobs and quaking gasps. They held hands and Peter clung on to his as if for dear life, fingers wrapped so tightly around his wrists that the knuckles began to turn white.

When Arthur opened his eyes, staying still because he knew that his brother needed him, he tried his best to look over the pre-teen’s body to see what was hurt. With a pang in his heart he noticed the blood splotching through the left side of his T-shirt, and a pretty large hole near most of it that let him see a nasty red-ish brown bruise on the soft part of his baby brother’s side.

He felt fury roll through him, and his hands tightened around Peter’s index fingers- which were all he managed to hold because the younger insisted on grabbing around the wrists. Arthur tried to control the almost parental fury in his voice. “Who,” his throat tightened and the word shook, “Who did this to you?”

Peter sniffed, trying to break from the hiccuping sort of crying his sobs had dissolved into to think, but he wasn’t able to stop the hiccup-like gasps even as he tried to come up with an answer.

Then Arthur realized- the thought hitting him like a truck- that this wasn’t the first time Peter had come home slightly beat up. This had happened plenty of other times, but not nearly this bad, and Peter always got home before him… he always had time to nurse his injuries because of that.

“Something going on at school that you haven’t told me, right?” Arthur’s voice shivered with emotion, “You know you can tell me, okay?” he pleaded.

Peter just sniffed, and briefly let go of his brother’s hand in order to rub his nose, Arthur took this as a queue that he could back away- just a little.

As Peter looked through tear filled eyes at his brother the latter’s worried face scrunched up, brow furrowing as he looked Peter up and down. His eyes caught on the bruises and cuts that littered the younger’s body, his blood pulsing in his ears with anger- who would do this to someone? Who could do this to another fucking human being?

“Peter please,” Arthur begged, sitting back on his heels and holding the middle schooler’s wrists. “You can tell me anything! I- I’m sorry for being distant all the time, I didn’t… I don’t mean to- well. I’ll listen! You know I will, right?”

Sniffing, Peter nodded. This seemed to relax Arthur a lot because he sighed in relief and the forceful grasp he had on the younger’s wrists loosened. “Okay,” he murmured brokenly, “now, lets go get you cleaned up- yeah?”

---

Peter and Arthur cleaned most of the blood off, exchanging the dirtied shirt and shorts for a new set of clothing, before Arthur picked up his phone again.

First he called Liam as Peter ate some yogurt. Liam picked up instantly (which was unusual). “Hi Liam,” Arthur started, but was immediately cut off.

“Is Peter alright?” Came the reply.

“Y-yes, he’s home now, really beat up but... okay,”

He could hear Ari speak up feverently, “Beat up?”

Arthur blinked in surprise, “I thought Ari stayed home with Emma?”

“Emma wanted to help us look, and so did Ari,” Liam said, sounding rushed and tired. Arthur could hear Veneciano and Flavio talking in the background, asking who it was who was calling.

Ari said something and Liam answered with a short ‘yes’ in his direction before turning back to the phone. “Is it alright if I hand you off to Ari? He wants to talk to you guys,”

“Sure,” Arthur blinked, “That’s okay,”

After a moment Ari was on the other end of the phone. “Hey Arthur,” he said softly, “Are you doing alright?”

Arthur rubbed his eyes and felt himself deflate, “No, no I’m- yeah. I’m okay, I’m just worried about Peter, he just… ugh,”

Ari hummed, shifting his weight and clearly stepping aways away from the others, their words becoming fainter and less distracting, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Arthur bit his lip and looked over at the table, where a very tired, still teary eyed and exhausted Peter was slowly licking yogurt off a spoon. “I… I do, but there’s not much I know,” he lowered his voice, “All I know is that some kids at school beat him up, I assume it’s bullying that’s gotten worse recently after going on for a long time,”

There was silence from Ari’s end. In some people’s cases that might mean that the person on the other end of the phone wasn’t paying attention, but Arthur knew Ari too well to think that. He had met the man when Ari and Liam had moved to the town, bringing their adopted daughter Emma with them.

Ari had always been the calm one, the voice of reason- and yet so adventures and ready to try new things. He had wanted to see the world, apparently, but that… just hadn’t happened before he had gotten married. So he settled on saving up for vacations- but none of that was important. What was important was that Arthur knew how Ari was when he was angry.

Because when Ari got angry he went silent.

Arthur bit his lip, “Are you alright?” he asked.

Humming again, Ari clearly shifted his weight once more. “I’m fine, but I’m worried about Peter-” at the mention of his brother’s name Arthur glanced over to where the boy was sitting at the dinner table. “-he’s probably been hurting for a long time if you’re right. I’d contact the police if I were you, maybe pull him out of school if it’s that bad,”

“Well,” Arthur blinked, “I can’t pull him out of school- I don’t think? There aren't’ any others near here, but I do agree on contacting the police,”

Ari’s voice held the hopeful smile that his face must have displayed as he spoke, “Okay, do that for him alright?”

“Alright,”

Arthur called the school as Peter took a second bath- this one not to clean himself but rather for soaking in the chilly water as much as he could- it made the bruises ache less. “Hi,” he started, hearing the man on the other side sound very relieved to hear from him again, “This is Arthur Kirkland,”

“Is everything alright?” came the crackling voice, Peter shifted his position (cringing at how his hip hit the bottom of the tub) to listen better.

“Yeah,” Arthur struggled to laugh, “It’s okay- though I definitely need to talk to someone soon, the administration, the police even,”

There was silence for a moment, either that or the front desk worker was speaking so quietly Peter couldn’t hear him. Then he spoke (or raised his voice), “Excuse me for asking, but why would you need to speak with the police?”

Arthur scoffed, this time slightly crazed, and rubbed his temples, “Because some kids at school attacked my baby brother,”

The man on the other end was silent again. When he spoke, he sounded incredibly serious, “Is he badly injured?”

In response, Arthur told him everything that had gone down in the last few hours.

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #Who did this to you?#Fandom #Hetalia #fic #blood #YO I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH

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vln-vibes · 4 years

Text

Unwanted, Unreliable, Unstoppable

Yeah so this thing is crazy long so I’m dividing it into three parts. Anyways this is very self indulgent but I hope you like the content.

Summary: They were tired, they were so so tired. This fight has been going on long enough, this war was getting harder and harder to fight as the years went on but no one ever helped; Not the citizens of Paris, not the French government and certainly not the Justice League. But what is they received help from a man that was practically a myth himself; the Batman. Is this exactly what the Miraculous Team needs or will this lead to their falling from grace?

🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫

“I’m so tired of this!” Ladybug scratched at her head feverishly. Currently she was standing at the second most top of the Eiffel Tower with her team: Chat Noir, Ryuuko and Viperion.

“I know m’lady” Chat sighed, letting his cheerful mask take a break as he stood next to her, leaning into the railings.

“Those— Those assholes that call themselves the Justice League just keep ignoring us; it's like they just don’t give a shit about us” Viperion rolled his eyes. They had tried, time and time again, to get help from older, more experienced heroes with their situation in Paris; they were fucking teenagers thrust into an adult’s war. One they didn’t even care for anymore.

“They don’t care for Paris… Why should we?” Ryuuko spoke up, cold fury clear in her eyes. “If they cannot find the need to handle the Paris situation themselves then why must we be the ones to? No one even appreciates out efforts, its like they just want us to have everything handled”

It was true.

At first the Parisians praised the Dynamic Duo, Ladybug and Chat Noir, for stepping up and saving the city from the terrifying Akumas they had no way of handling. They even got the heroes to help out with things not in their jurisdiction; suddenly any crime, as minor or major as it could get, required their attention, any fire could not be handled by the fire department alone, schools needed the heroes to make guest appearances, they were wanted in television interviews, everyone needed to know everything about them. It was fine, for a while, they didn’t mind helping out.

Then Heroes’ Day happened.

Suddenly they were pathetic.

If they were supposed to be so strong then how come other heroes had to come to help? It had never occurred to them that they were chosen by Ladybug and Chat Noir, all they knew was that the duo was not as strong as they once believed.

After all it was just one criminal,

How hard could it be?

Sometimes, Ladybug wishes, she had just let Alya keep the stupid earrings. She was sure the girl would have taken them immediately at the time but, given her brashness and temperamental nature, she would have already lost to Hawkmoth.

Plus she didn’t blame the small kwami or even Master Fu all that much: She resented the man but still respected him very much and knew he went through the same thing as she did at an even younger age with absolutely no way out. She was aware that if she truly wanted to all she could do was just give the earrings to someone else or even hand them over. But Ladybug was stubborn and the earrings were her’s now, just like the ring was Chat’s, the choker was Ryuuko’s and the bangle was Viperion’s.

That didn’t mean this battle was theirs to fight.

“... Why don’t we leave?” Viperion asked, disturbing their silence. The trio looked at him curiously, as though he broke an unspoken rule.

“Why would we?” Ladybug responded, knowing fully well that Viperion didn’t tend to speak up unless he was certain of his words.

“Because they’re running us dry, this city is killing us” Viperion raised his voice, aware that they could already, “Adrien and Kagami are living shitty home lives with abusive assholes that want to call themselves parents. Mari, you’re being burdened with too much responsibility by that bitch Bustier and that class full of sheep! I hate seeing you all kill yourselves for people that will never appreciate it because they think they’re above it!”

At the end of his rant Viperion’s eyes were nearly glowing, his breathing a bit more rough than normal, looking away from his teammates knowing he stepped too far. “Sorry, but I don’t want my friends to die on me when I can do something to stop it”

Ryuuko, Chat Noir and Ladybug understood where he was coming from but it was like a slap on the face, a reminder of what civilian life was like for them. Ryuuko could feel the sting coming from her leg, where mother had hit with her shinai after failing to be in proper form. Chat Noir still felt the ache of having to do photoshoots all day and then staying up at night to have to do his make-up work; not that his father cared with his disregard of child labor laws. Ladybug still had some redness from bruises Alya had caused by tripping her on her way to class.

“... Okay so these are the sad gang hours” the group turned back seeing Roter Fochs land, Roi Singe and Pegasus landing behind them. The Parisians were really only aware of ‘The Core Four’ as they’d rather have some aces up their sleeves; not that the three were ready to confront the Parisian backlash just yet. They didn’t want to deal with anymore bullshit than they had to in their civilian lives.

“Is everything alright? Or is it just Life™?” Roi Singe asked, leaning onto his bo-staff next to Viperion.

“It takes 60 euroes to go to therapy but no money to say it just be like that sometimes” Roter Fochs shrugged, much to the dismay of Viperion, Roi Singe and Pegasus.

“Can you please stop joking about your mental health” Pegasus found himself groaning. A small hovering screen appeared next to him, a cowboy hat firmly attached to the top with an antenna sticking out.

“Yes studies show that LGBT youth have a higher percentage to suffer from depression, some even to the point that they𑁋”

“Thanks for the concern CowBot but, really, I’m fine; let me have my fun” Roter softly tapped the little robot. It was nice having people, well sentient beings, still concerned with his well being.

Suddenly the group tensed, their artificial ears and enhanced senses picking up a light clink, the sound of something quickly winding up followed. Two male figures landed in front of them, quickly surrounded by the Parisians. The taller one of the two quipped:

“Well aren’t you a merry bunch”

“Who are you and why are you here?” Chat Noir kept an icy cold edge to his voice, emulating how his father would talk to employees that weren’t Natalie.

“They’re not Akumas, no magic radiating off of them” Ladybug analyzed, looking closely at the duo but she couldn’t recognize them at all. The male that had spoken had a lean and relatively tall body, he couldn’t be more than four years older than her team, so around his late teens early twenties. He had long raven hair, his bangs framing his face perfectly, even in the moonlight she could tell he had a pale complexion though the black domino mask he sported helped hide most of it and his eyes. His uniform wasn’t one she recognized from any superhero from the League; black kevlar, if she had to guess, made up nearly the entirety of his suit, from his boots, pants and even gauntlets, heck she wouldn’t be surprised if his cape was bulletproof. One of the only things to bring color was his crimson chest piece, with two belts across it holding up a golden bird symbol, the same one on his canary utility belt.

“Tt, we just came here to talk” the smaller male scoffed, his posture not looking any more tense or relaxed, just attentive. His build was also lean like his taller partner though she could tell his body would be able to build more muscles with his broader shoulders. She assumed they were around the same age, his jawline defined but not to the same extent an adult’s would be. His hair seemed almost darker than that of his partner’s and was slicked back though maintaining most of its volume, a naturally tan skin was found beneath a green domino mask, much like his companion’s. His uniform was definitely more colorful, almost as if he was meant to garner attention(and boy wasn’t that concerning); black seemed to be the main color in his suit with the outer cape, pants and sleeves being that color, ruby red tunic that went beyond his belt with dandelion accents on its edges and a golden R over his heart, pine boots and gauntlets matching the shade of his mask with dandelion yellow covering the inside of his cape and hood as well as his own utility belt.

She had no clue who they were.

“And why should we trust you?”

“Because we don’t like the Justice League any more than you do”

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One Week Ago

“Hey B, we found something interesting while reading the League’s data” Barbara Gordon’s voice echoed in the BatCave. Currently she and Tim were doing the weekly check-in on the League, something those heroes never seemed to notice. Not that they were surprised.

“What did you find?” Bruce asked, telling Duke and Damian to take a break from combat training while he did.

“There’s an alarming amount of distress calls from France, specifically Paris, that the League has been either ignoring or not receiving” Tim showed him the graph of all the history, going back at least three years closer. It was small at first, once every two months at the beginning, once a month when the second year began, every two weeks bordering on weekly near the end of it, by the start of the third it was daily until some time three months ago they just stopped.

Well wasn’t that cause for concern?

“Can we get any audio of the calls?” Bruce’s detective side coming up as Barbara was able to bring up a few that hadn’t been automatically deleted by the Justice League’s system. The first one was the very first from three years ago, a video call.

“Uh hello!” the girl on the video said awkwardly, clearly nervous but determined to get her message out, “My name is Ladybug”

Her costume looked like it was simply made by spandex, a rather plain design of red with black spots around, a domino mask with open lenses was the only thing really concealing her identity.

“Paris has a supervillain, his name is Hawkmoth and he feeds off of negative emotions. His power can turn anyone into his enslaved champion and we- my partner and I are the only ones really fighting this. I- I know you’re all really busy saving the world and all that but- but we’re just kids! We have no experience and well, we were hoping you can send someone to help? We’ve only confronted him three times now but well, we were just pushed into this”

Bruce could feel his blood growing cold, she couldn’t have been older than thirteen when this was recorded. He knew no Leaguers went on missions to Paris for the past five years… He told them to play the next video, from two years ago.

“Hello Justice League” Ladybug still wore her simple spandex though now standing tall next to a boy with a black cat leather outfit. Behind them was a girl with a bee themed outfit, a girl with a fox themed outfit and a boy with a turtle theme.

“We just came out of this Heroes Day disaster”

“No thanks to their help” the bee girl snapped before looking away.

“Look, Hawkmoth is getting more and more dangerous. He was able to transform half of Paris into his minions, they took over Paris and nearly won”

“What is it going to take you for you guys to finally help?” the cat boy growled much to the surprise of the others.

“Chat Noir!”

“Oh please we can totally handle Hawkmoth without them; you two should be enough already. With us three helping you, defeating him should be easy, power of teamwork and all that” the fox girl waved off, much to the surprise of the turtle.

“Rena did you seriously not remember what just happened. We were compromised, we nearly let Paris fall. We’re not trained for this, not even LB and Chat, and they’ve been doing this for the past year”

“Whatever”

“What was the last transmission?” Bruce found himself asking as the cave suddenly grew silent, all eyes on the monitor as their last transmission played.

“Why are we even bothering with this?” a new male voice asked, the video was shaky before finally pointing at the Parisian streets. If you could even call what was essentially a river of water, reaching to the top of most rooftops streets anymore. Items were floating about, bodies littered around them.

“They’ll never listen, they never did” another female voice agreed, they assumed it was the girl at the corner of the screen, looking down on the streets in what could be described as pity.

“I know” Ladybug’s voice sighed from behind the camera. “But they should at least see the consequences of their actions”

“If they even bother watching these, I wouldn’t be surprised if they just delete these as soon as we send them” Chat Noir entered the screen, eyes cold and calculating.

“Paris should be thankful that Lucky Charm is able to bring them back” the male with the snake themed outfit shook his head. “This is probably the 1,000 time most of Paris died with an akuma, second with Syren”

“Super lucky” the dragon female rolled her eyes “It’s not even worth trying to save citizens since all they do is cretique us”

“And the officers; Apparently we should be able to deal with city-destroying being and protect the people at the same time while officers just stand behind the lines waiting for us to do both” Chat Noir hissed

“What's done is done. This will be our last call for the Justice League; I hope you’re all happy, knowing that you’ve forced children to grow up and fight in a man’s war. Bug Out”

“There are no records of these videos even being played, or even of these events happening as far as Parisian government records say. But there’s clearly a lot of cover up going on, most of Paris’ emergency broadcasting doesn’t make it out of its borders, heavy encouragement of tourism even though there have been complaints by the people about… akumas?” Tim reported as soon as the video finished playing.

“There’s even records of a city-funded statue being made for Ladybug and Chat Noir yet no indication of where it is or what its for” Barbara continued “This blog keeps coming up, it used to be called the Ladyblog before it switched to Fox Tea. Look at these videos”

The screens were suddenly filled with shots of these Akuma; one that froze the city over, one who controlled the weather, one who began dropping adults from the sky, Syren, Heroes’ Day… All of them had to be handled by scared children.

“These look too real to be edited” Duke said in awe. He was very aware of his children all surrounding the screens, looking at the countless destruction of one of the major cities in the world.

And none of them had ever heard of them or these children who were forced to deal with it.

Ones who seeked out help and were never given the time of day.

“Red Robin, Robin” his two sons standing in attention “I want you to investigate the matter and offer our help; convince them that we’re on their side on not aligned with the League”

“We’re on it, Batman”

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“So you just want us to believe you found out about us and suddenly want to help?” Roter Fochs looked at the duo skeptically.

“We wish to assist you with this whole… situation. No one has heard of Akumas or of Parisian heroes before, we concluded that it may be the government attempting to keep tourism up” the shorter male, Robin, they later learned, spoke up while keeping his hands in the air.

“Though that doesn’t excuse the League, who we know you personally sent distress messages” Red Robin echoed the message “We understand the incompetence of the League better than anyone else. Did you know they never bothered to even open most of those messages?”

Red Robin was surprised by the sudden animalistic growling coming from the group, some of their eyes glowing while others looked disappointed.

Ladybug looked hurt.

“Who do you work for?” Ryuuko asked, curious but not letting her sword lower from its position.

“We’re Robin and Red Robin”

“Like the food chain?”

“.... Yes. Anyway we’re vigilantes sanctioned in Gotham, New Jersey in the United States; we’re both proteges of the Batman” Red Robin held back the need to roll his eyes at the monkey boy’s statement.

“Never heard of him” the French heroes turned to each other, trying to see if the name rang any bells.

“According to the internet the Batman is almost a folklore for Gotham; people claim to see him and his array of birds and bats but none could ever get clear photos” CowBot replied after a quick search.

“If the League never saw our messages then how do you know about them?” Chat Noir stared right at them, as though he’d know they were lying, which he couldn’t but Roter Fochs could and would.

“Because we’re better than the League” Robin said with the same certainty one would say the grass was green.

“Why should we believe you?” Ladybug asked skeptically, if they were so good then why didn’t they handle what the League wouldn’t? Why didn’t they just try to take over the Hawkmoth situation without their input? Why didn’t they just take down the League by themselves?

“You shouldn’t, “ Robin shrugged once more “But we’ll actually help where the League wouldn’t”

Ladybug stole a look from Chat Noir, both turning to Roter Fochs, who shook his head softly indicating the duo wasn’t lying.

“If you really want us to talk then give us the coordinates to meet with the Batman” Ladybug demanded, Robin looked outraged at the implication while Red Robin nodded.

“Alright, but how will you know if we’re lying to you?” he asked curiously, typing something in his communicator, the center of his utility belt, before handing it over to her.

“Trust me, we know when you’re lying plus we’d know when we get there” Viperion smirked, “Also you can stand down now Bunnix, MultiMouse”

The duo were not surprised to see two figures standing behind them, one male with a mouse theme and rope wrapped around his hands, and a petite girl with a bunny theme and a sharp looking umbrella pointing straight at their backs. They were just surprised that they hadn't sensed them before.

“Did you get those coordinates, Pegasus?”

“Yes Ladybug, waiting for your signal”

“Well then birdies, we better hope you weren’t lying or you’ll find Hawkmoth won’t be your biggest problem”

“Voyage!”

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“Why don’t you guys like the League?”

The meeting between the Bats and Team Miraculous had gone much better than any of them had expected; it had certainly helped when they found out one of their own, Agent A as they called him, was once a wielder.

They had both been surprised by the amount of members each team had: The Bats had expected Ladybug, Chat Noir, Ryuuko and Viperion; Roter Fochs, Pegasus, Roi Singe, Bunnix and MultiMouse had been a surprise.

Meanwhile Team Miraculous had only heard of whispers of Batman and many Robins, even a theory on a bat girl of sorts from their brief research; having Batman, Robin (V), Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Signal, Batgirl, Batwoman, and Black Bat not to mention Oracle and Agent A; they had almost thought it was an ambush.

They supposed they each knew how to keep certain secrets tight.

“The Justice League, though still consisting of some of the most powerful people in this Earth, are too high and mighty; none of them really consider the consequences of their actions and are too reliant on their powers to be able to resolve all their problems. None of them have any contingency plans if their enemies find out their weaknesses and exploit them. Not a single member is a ‘normal human’”

He pulled up a hologram in the middle of the meeting table, every person who's worked with Justice League showing up, each showing their array of powers and abilities before showing their membership status.

Batman, Green Arrow, Speedy, Robin, Artemis; Non-Members

Two Green Lanterns, Captain Marvel, Black Canary, Bumblebee, Rocket, the Atom, Blue Beetle (II), Superboy; Reserve members with clearance.

“That does seem pretty discriminatory” Viperion hummed as he thought of the people on the list, those on the Non-member list had no power or enhancement at all while those on the reserve, with the exception of Captain Marvel and Superboy, had powers or suits but the vulnerability of humans.

They weren’t considered strong enough, or maybe even reliable enough.

“We’d probably be considered in the same capacity as a Green Lantern” Pegasus concluded “Take away their ring and their powers go away”

“Which brings us to the next question” Batgirl chimed cheerfully “What is it exactly that you’re facing off against?”

“The Miraculous are ancient artifacts that lend you the powers of certain godlings named Kwami. Kwamis are the essence of concepts and ideas: The Ladybug who represents Luck and Creation, the Black Cat who represents Misfortune and Destruction and Horse who represents Transportation and Innovation are just some examples” Ryuuko explained for them

“Hawkmoth is in possession of the Butterfly Miraculous of Metamorphosis and Desire along with the Peacock of Emotion and Will” Ladybug paused briefly as she saw the look of surprise on Agent A’s face, wondering if she’d feel that way if she found out Tikki was being used for evil in the future. “Both were thought to be missing, possibly destroyed, when the last Master of the Order was able to salvage them from the attack to the Temple of Miracles. He was only a child when the Temple was attacked, thus he was able to escape without being detected by the enemy”

“If I remember correctly,” Chat Noir interrupted “I believe Master Fu said their name was “The Shadows” or I think he said they now go by𑁋”

“The League of Shadows” Nightwing softly added, the air tensing immediately.

“You know of them?” MultiMouse was weary considering the Shadows were very keen on keeping to, well, shadows. That had to mean that the Bats had confronted them.

“Intimately so” Batman growled out.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bunnix’s brows furrowed underneath her mask, feeling as though they wouldn’t like the answer.

“The Shadows have been a pain in Gotham’s ass in the past” Batgirl explained before turning to Batman “Especially since the Demon’s Head was interested in having Batman as a Son-in Law, though his daughter is sometimes an ally”

“Batgirl!” Red Robin admonished

“Don’t forget the little demon over here” Red Hood joked, missing the look of shock in the Parisian heroes.

“Or the fact that it sometimes seems like he wants to get on Red Robin’s dick and have his babies”

“Batgirl, Red Hood that’s enough” Batwoman sternly looked at the duo.

“You’re saying Robin is related to the Shadows” the Parisian heroes in the Reserve Team looked at them suspiciously while the Core Four just patiently waited to see what the Bats would say.

“That’s in the past” Nightwing steely stated “He was born into that lifestyle, but his mother let him chose to leave and live a different life”

“We had no choice of who our parents were” Black Bat reinforced, the team taking a mental note that she was once a shadow as well.

“Noted” Chat Noir said cooly “Though you must understand our reluctance when hearing the Shadows; like we said the Shadows destroyed the temple that was meant to safeguard the Miraculous and killed off every Guardian in the process”

“It would be foolish of us to not be on guard when hearing of them being so close to us again” Ryuuko explained “Though we will give the benefit of the doubt”

And so was the beginning of their partnership.

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“You’re all skilled fighters for not having any proper training” Oracle commended, looking at the statistics of the spars they all had, by far the Core Four had the strongest stats but it wasn’t because of the others’ lack of skill.

“Thank you, Oracle” Ryuuko bowed after finishing her match with Robin, an intense sword fight having just finished. If she had truly wanted to she could have ended it by cutting Robin’s katana but she found it both dishonorable and the easy way out considering they were testing skill sets. On the other side of the room was Red Robin and Roi Singe’s fight, bo-staff against bo-staff, being monitored by Black Bat.

“Oh kwami” Ladybug whispered as she and Chat Noir were called for the next match… against Batman and Batwoman.

“This is where we die Noir”

“It’s been an honor m’lady”

The fight had been entertaining, each side coming in with an array of attacks. At first the Bats had played offensive with the Miraculous duo playing defensive, dodging Batarangs and all their little gadgets. The Bats hadn’t expected just how durable the simple looking yo-yo and staff would be or any of its features.

At some point there had been a flash bomb, Chat Noir blocking it from Ladybug and getting temporarily blinded, Batwoman had planned on attacking while he was disoriented however the attack amplified his enhanced hearing, extending his staff and tripping her in the process.

In the end the Bats had won but it had been a close victory considering the Miraculous Team had not bothered to use their special abilities during any of the fights.

As they were taking a breather, resting and getting drinks, Robin spoke up.

“How are you allowing your city to step all over you?” Team Miraculous looked at him briskly before Red Hood, of all people, continued for him.

“We’ve seen the reports and the Parisian news, they’re relying on your team of four, considering they aren’t aware of the others, to be there to solve all their problems”

“It’s okay for your people to put so much trust in you but it's gotten to the point where they expect it of you” Robin concluded.

“I’ve tried telling them” Viperion sighed, facing his group “We really should be leaving Paris to handle their own problems, we’re busy enough in civilian life and akuma fights as it is”

“How do you suppose we do that when we already face scrutiny for not dealing with Akumas fast enough?” Chat Noir asked, his tail flickering behind him.

“You could always stop patrolling in broad daylight if you don’t want to leave the city altogether” Red Robin suggested, “Hiding in the night is easier to avoid any authority or anyone trying to get interviews. Plus this way it's less predictable where you’ll be certain hours of the day”

“He does make a good point” Ladybug said, mostly to herself, before nodding “I think it's a good idea”

“You heard her team,” Chat Noir turned to face the others “All for stopping daylight patrol?”

All of them nodded in agreement, the beginning of a long list of necessary changes in their lives.

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“My father is planning a press conference to talk about his ‘concerns’ with the lack of your appearances” Chloe rolled her eyes. A year ago, after the Heroes’ Day Disaster, she and Carapace had chosen to stand down while Rena was ultimately retired. She’d found out about Adrien when she went for a visit only for him to jump in through the window.

It was awkward between the two of them before they called for Ladybug.

She gave her neutral face of disappointment first before making a plan.

They were all aware that Lila must have been the one to start the disaster, being Volpina was the only explanation, as Ladybug confessed that Lila had a vendetta against her. Chloe also figured she must have been lying, something she had already suspected before, about being in another country considering Hawkmoth’s attacks only stayed in Paris.

Due to Chloe’s secret identity being out in the open they realized Hawkmoth wouldn’t be above targeting her family again. Thus Chloe became Ladybug’s spy.

Meanwhile in civilian life Nino was getting tired of Alya and Lila’s antics, especially the ones against his bros Adrien and Marinette. Well more against Marinette and more sexual harassment/getting together with Adrien. That’s not even touching on their newest content on the blog which was just criticizing the Miraculous Team for all their weaknesses and shortcomings, in the guise of offering “suggestions” on how to get better.

They thought it’d be good to have an inside man, someone who could warn them of anything Lila and Alya might come up to.

They were both the secret members of Team Miraculous.

“Holy shit are you serious?” Nino exclaimed in Chloe’s room. They’d all come in secretly and by different entries to meet up in case certain nosy classmates had spotted them.

“Yep, I may or may not have threatened my father with a lawsuit against his violation of child labor laws and me not receiving my paychecks” Adrien said excitedly.

Chat Noir had made an off-hand comment on how his father had tired him out with a packed work schedule. This resulted in prodding from the mother hen known as Nightwing asking for details which ended in Chat Noir confessing that he works for his father’s company, had been homeschooled most of his life and often had a packed schedule full of extracurriculars, including up to around 12-hour work days sometimes. Turns out with that brief information Oracle informed them that his father was violating child labor laws due to the fact that he had worked more than thirty five hours a week since he was fourteen.

“Holy shit” he’d say in awe at the moment “My father is rich though… who knows if this would even go through with his influence”

“No man is truly above the law” Nightwing had given him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “But… is everything alright in your home life?”

“I- I shouldn’t say anything that reveals my identity… '' the usually chaotic boy said solemnly, his cat ears downcast.

“Chat Noir,” the group turned to Ladybug, the one who’d help introduce her team to the life of masks and magic “Your own safety is much more important than keeping your identity safe. We both know the kind of person your father is… I’d rather you have the best options possible to face this”

“How come you’re so fast to trust us?” Robin asked, surprised but keeping a stern face.

“You do realize that she has the coordinates to this place, right?” Viperion smirked “She’s known who you are for a while and never mentioned anything. We just expect you to return the courtesy”

“That seems about right” Red Robin sighed before taking off his mask, the others of the Bat Clan following suit. Team Miraculous gave Ladybug one last look before dropping their own transformations, some of them looking familiar to the Gothamites.

“Marcus is that you my boy?” Agent A, otherwise known as the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth made his way to MultiMouse who nodded shyly.

“I actually go by Marc now great-uncle Alfred”

“Wait what, Al has siblings?” Stephanie exclaimed, Jason was whispering for Tim to write it down in The Book.

“Yes, an older half-sister” he said with an impeccable raised brow “I would have never thought you’d follow after my footsteps Marc”

“I guess it does run in the family”

“Adrien Agreste! Like son of the fashion mongul Gabriel and late actress Emellie Grande de Venily?!” Stephanie exclaimed as soon as she focused on the blonde teen.

“Yep” was all he could find himself saying, taking comfort in Marinette’s presence next to him.

“Don’t worry Adrien,” the boy looked up to the slightly intimidating looming figure of Bruce Wayne “We’ll help you deal with your father”

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“Boys” Bruce had said as soon as he entered the living room, where the group had devolved into a video game competition. “Remember tomorrow is your monthly therapy session”

“Already?” Damian groaned, his brothers, with the exception of Dick, looking like they would rather not go.

“Timmy isn’t prepared to face his inner demons”

“And it seems Timmy hasn’t slept in some time again, hasn’t he?” Luka teased, continuing to run his hand through Tim’s hair, the boy practically purring in response.

“You have a therapist?” Marinette asked Bruce skeptically.

“We’ve all… gone through things growing up. Alfred made me realize that we were all in need of some help”

“And do you umm… talk about your nightly activities?”

“They’re trustworthy and confidential, yes”

“Do you think you could give me their information?”

That’s how Team Miraculous found themselves on the day after another akuma attack, in a private room within Wayne Tower, each waiting their turn to see the doctor.

“You’ve been through alot Luka” the teen was lying on his back, facing the ceiling as the psychologist who worked with Bruce talked. “Losing what you’ve come to accept as your family, watching your friends die, even though you knew you could change the outcome. Doing it over and over again in order to save the city… It's not something anyone could be expected to handle, let alone a child your age”

“I… I know Dr.Quinzel. But I can’t allow myself to feel guilty over everything or even get overly emotional. If Hawkmoth found out it’d be a disaster, especially because Marinette trusted me with the miraculous… the first for her to assign full time as the Guardian…. I can’t let her down” Luka gave her a lost look, one rarely seen on the charming boy before.

“Keeping all of that inside… It could fester up and explode if you’re not careful Luka”

“So you’re telling me that you are perfectly fine with how your life at home is going, Nathaniel? Even after everything we’ve discussed”

“Look I’ve tried telling my parents they were wrong but they just keep saying I’m confused, not to mention think my art is a joke… and maybe they’re right”

“Those are important parts to who you are. Saying that would be like considering yourself a mistake… Do you feel that way Nathaniel?”

“I…”

“I think I have pretty bad taste in girls, though my friends usually call me a himbo for not really thinking things through. Maybe I should think before acting more?”

“I’ve known I was going to become Bunnix ever since I was fourteen, it was always just a matter of when. So when I was finally called to action I was so excited but… I can’t help but wonder if I’m cut out for this”

“My mother has groomed and taught me to be perfect at all I do. It was something ingrained to me since I was a child; It wasn’t until recently that I learned that is impossible to achieve. Why was mother so pertained to me being it?”

“I know I’m the smart guy but I shouldn’t be expected to have all the answers, especially for my classmates who refuse to look at evidence as it is. Seriously, if I had known they would have taken my comment about how dangerous a napkin can be as pure fact then I would have not said anything that day”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough for my grandmother. She’s getting older, she’s starting to forget a lot. I help by telling her things like stories but I’m not sure how long that will last… She’s the only family I have left in Paris, I don’t want to leave my friends or boyfriend behind”

“My father has always been a distant man but ever since my mother… I’m not sure if he even sees me as his son at this point. There are some days I’m treated as nothing more than a trophy boy or a regular employee. I wonder if this would have happened regardless of my mother’s passing”

“I am Ladybug, I am also the last Guardian. But I’m just a teenager! I have a life I want to live outside of Paris… I want to be a designer, start my own brand, find love and have my own family… But Hawkmoth is in the way of all that”

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“Are you sure about this LB?” Nino asked from the terrace of Chloe’s penthouse. They’d been talking strategy when an Akuma attacked, given the chaos displayed by the news via LadyBugOut livestream, they could only assume it was another Volpina attack.

Unfortunately Volpina had a Sentimonster to help, Reality Check. A glorified 3D printer who could temporarily make Volpina’s illusions tangible and real.

It had proven to be a difficult battle, especially since Luka and Adrien had been caught up as civilians and couldn’t help Ryuuko and Ladybug. The others still had to wait for Ladybug to give the signal before they’d consider going out to help in broad daylight lest their hidden cards be revealed too soon.

In the middle of the fight the two heroines had made a strategic retreat, one the Fox Tea blogger did not hesitate to call the coward’s way out. Suddenly the two appeared at Chloe’s along with Roter Fochs. The scarlet hero had taken out two familiar boxes with extremely familiar jewelry inside.

“I’m certain of it” she said with a determined smile, “Besides this could finally get Hawkmoth and maybe even Alya off your backs if I introduce new heroes; Of course your costumes will have to be different, as will your codenames, but I trust that you’ll know what to do”

“Hello my queen!”

“What’s up dude”

Paris was in uproar when they heard of the new heroes; Abeille and Anselm.

Abeille’s costume was much more armored than that of Queen Bee’s; the whole suit had a honey yellow bodysuit with black armor pieces, her chest piece in the shape of a bee’s face, black elbow length gloves with some honey stripes, thigh high black boots with honey kneepads. Her own mask was different from her former as it changed her eyes to royal blue like Pollen’s while being honey colored with black v shaped lines. The golden gauntlets on top of her gloves would be able to send out small shocks, capable of stunning enemies for small intervals at the time, nowhere near as potent as Venom.

Anselm’s own attire was not so different from Carapace; Anselm still kept the hoodie his predecessor did though beneath it is where the differences began. Anselm wore a pine green helmet, yellow tinted goggles on top of his red eyes, with pale thin daffodile lines going from the top to the bottom of his hood. The hoodie and his undersuit was sacramento green, bordering on black, though the majority of the suit was also armored with pine pieces like the hexagonal chest piece, shoulder, thigh, shin, knee and elbow pads. He also had much thicker gauntlets than Abeille’s along with armored gloves and reinforced sneakers.

Of course, Chloe Bourgeois and Nino Lahiffe were quickly off of the suspect list when the two were spotted separately looking for shelter amongst the Akuma attack during Fox Tea’s livestream.

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“So you’re part of the OG Team huh?” Stephanie asked as she gave a once over to the two newcomers.

“Deep undercover missions, you know how they go” Abeille scoffed, her honey blonde hair swaying along with her five black streaks around it.

“What she said. We couldn’t help as Queen Bee and Carapace anymore, compromised identities, so we helped as civilians before covering our tracks and coming back” Anselm tried to keep back Chloe’s prickly personality.

“Like what?” Cass’ appearance startled the two, though both looked like they were about to draw out their weapons.

“Well I get them intel from what’s happening in the mayor’s office that Max and Markov can’t get out from the computers, daddy is a bit of a pushover and squeals pretty easily”

“While I get intel from Fox Tea’s disastrous dude duo. I’m usually among the first to find out about anything their plotting… though I’ve had to drop that. It was getting too much for me to continue being with Alya so we broke up”

“So you kept dating Cesaire just to gather intel? Doesn’t that seem manipulative?” Duke asked from his seat on the monitor, the two Parisians looked at one another before beginning to laugh.

“Not compared to what those two are capable of”

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“Are you sure about this?”

Currently Viperion, Ladybug and Bunnix were on the Gotham rooftops, shadowing the Bats for the night. The three were honored to be trusted with the responsibility but still felt foreign in the much darker environment, literally and metaphorically.

“It’ll be a good experience” Oracle said in their ears, their comms being synced to those of the Bats “And you won’t be alone, I’ll be here and so will your partners”

Right on cue Robin, Red Robin and Black Bat landed on the same rooftop. The plan was for the six to cover the patrol for the night, the others would be getting rest or doing specialty training with their abilities. It was a surprise for the Miraculous gang when it was revealed that Signal and Red Hood would be joining them as fellow trainees. Alfred and Black Canary, a metahuman who often worked together with Green Arrow in Central City, would be in charge of the training while Bruce also oversaw their progress.

Honestly they hadn’t known what surprised them more: the fact that Batman had metas on his team or that he trusted other heroes with the training of his children.

“It should be a regular night; standard mugging, gang fights and possible robberies should be all that happen tonight”

Of course that was not what happened.

As it turned out Riddler had escaped Arkham, no surprise, and had gone too long without his medication. Edward Nygma was usually a pretty tame man, if a little eccentric with his love of riddles and his brilliant mind.

He decided to hold Gotham Grand Terminal hostage.

Ladybug was decidedly trying not to panic as she saw the very obvious bombs spread across different sections of the terminal. There were too many for them to deactivate in less than three minutes and there were probably more hidden around.

“Riddle me this; What is Joan of Arc made of ?” Ladybug and Robin were the first to arrive at the scene, Viperion and Red Robin being the closest to coming as back up. Robin seemed as confused as she felt but decided to really think about it…

This was so stupid.

“Maid of Orleans” the look Robin gave her, like she just made the most foolish decision of her life, was seen spread across the faces of hostages before Riddler began to laugh.

“Why you are correct, little red” he wiped a tear from his eye “Bats would never think of something so punny like that!”

“Yeah well I’ve had a lot of experience with annoying puns”

“What’s colorful, loud and is a mess to clean up?” Ladybug’s eyes widened as he pressed the big red button on the remote control, Robin bringing Ladybug down and shielding her as the hostages began to scream.

BOOM!

“...Confetti cannons” Ladybug muttered, her whole body covered in the colorful paper pieces with glitter in the mix.

That son of a bitch!

It was April 1st.

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“So what is it that we’ll be doing?” Bunnix asked as Black Bat silently leaped through the Gotham rooftops, camouflaging effortlessly with the shadows unlike her because of the white and baby blue costume she had on.

“You two will be checking up on Red Hood’s sector for the night, Crime Alley” Oracle’s voice responded for her.

“Right, so is this just a standard patrol?”

“Something like that”

Bunnix was admittedly a bit nervous about being with Black Bat, Cass didn’t really talk much and was kinda hot. Bunnix had just dutifully shadowed her, staying as quiet as she could even if she did more parkour than necessary, when they stumbled upon a drug deal. Bunnix was about to go down to smack some people around with her umbrella when Black Bat shook her head.

“One of Red Hood’s men, let’s wait to see the deal go through”

Bunnix wasn’t sure what to think as she watched the deal go down. Weren’t they supposed to be the ones to stop this from happening and not helping them? It was a bit confusing and against her moral code…

“We do this to keep the kids out of the involvement” Oracle seemed to read her mind, explaining their reasoning “Before Red Hood decided to get involved with drug trafficking Crime Alley was full of children who would be taken advantage of by dealers; whether it meant getting them addicted or becoming their messengers and delivery boys. He made it very clear to his ‘allies’ that no child from Crime Alley was getting involved in their plans again or else the deals were off. Those who tried going above him… well they’re no longer around to try and take him down”

Still that did not help ease Alix’s worries as the night continued on. Black Bat came to a sudden stop on top of a warehouse, gesturing for Bunnix to follow behind her, and climbing in through a shattered window. Inside were dozens of wooden crates, each with cameras pointed at them and only one with an open lid. Black Bat walked towards the open crate with ease, going inside and taking out three duffle bags from inside. She placed two on her, criss-crossing each other before handing the other one to a reluctant Bunnix.

The tow then headed to a hidden tunnel underneath one of the empty crates, making their way in a closed (?) Gotham sewer. It didn’t smell as disgusting as Alix imagined it would be, musky at best, though she thought that it may be due to the fact that there was no dirty sewage water there. They walked in relative ease, essentially walking for what had to be at least 15 minutes in numerous twists and turns before reaching a ladder. The two got out, Bunnix recognizing it as part of Crime Alley with how run down the area looked.

Black Bat knocked on a rusting steel door, three times, five, once and then a tap with her palm.

The door opened up, a boy no older than 12 being the ones to greet them.

“Where’s R.H?” he questioned, he looked disappointed but not alarmed, clearly he had met Black Bat before.

“Was busy. This is Bunnix, she’s helping for the night” The boy was clearly unimpressed with her but he closed the door and led them down the long hallway. She noticed the few scattered toys along the way, with some open doors showing mountains of writing supplies and even a little library.

What was this place?

“This is Red Hood’s sanctuary for the kids of Crime Alley” Black Bat whispered next to her “Batgirl and Red Hood are usually the ones to come here though all of us have come at some point.” they entered the large room showing children of all ages, some as young as infants and others looking close to early adulthood. They dropped the duffle bags in front of what she thought was the leader of the pack when Red Hood wasn’t around.

They were filled with non-perishable food, wads of money that will probably be used to provide for the group of 30 or even more for the next month, toys, books and some new clothes.

As the children gathered around, each a little dirtier than Alix remembered ever being as a child, lining up to get a new something that Red Hood got for them she couldn’t help but think;

… Maybe things were never so black and white.

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“I know it may seem frightening, even unnerving, to let go of your control but if you keep your powers bottled up it may prove to be disastrous in the future” Black Canary told the group of teens.

“With abilities bestowed to you like those of the Miraculous are left untrained then it may prove to lead to your downfall” Alfred nodded along to Dinah’s words.

“As capable as Ms.Lance and I are, we have realized that we would need further assistance to properly be able to train each of your abilities”

From one of the Batcave’s entrances they could hear the screech of tires before a slick black car parked next to the Batmobile and Hoodcycle.

“Sorry, we’re late” a red headed woman said as she stepped out of the car, her pale freckled skin slowly gaining a green tint to it as she removed her lab coat and glasses, “Selina here thought she could make a quick steal on our way here”

“Oh c’mon Pam, you know you love the rush as much as I do” a tanned woman laughed, twirling around a golden necklace with one of the biggest rubies they had ever seen in its center.

“Now, ladies; Pam-a-lamb has a class of powered kids to teach” they recognized Dr.Quinzel belatedly as she was missing her glasses and uniform. She was now wearing a much more colorful array of clothes with the consistent theme of red,black, and white. Her skin seemed paler than they remembered and her blonde hair had red tips on one side and blue on the other.

“Hey girls” Barbara came down the elevator at the same time as Stephanie and Cass, seemingly cutting their conversation when she saw the newcomers”

“Babs!” Dr.Quinzel exclaimed, making her way to the other girls after giving a quick kiss to the green skinned woman.

“Well you’re right on time Pam” Dinah sighed, cocking her hip before pointing at the newcomers “These are Dr.Pamela Isley otherwise known as the Gotham Rogue Poison Ivy, Selina Kyle a more vigilante type thief Catwoman, and, of course, you know Dr.Harleen Quinzel or as she prefers to go by Harley Quinn”

“Hey kittens” Selina waved at the group “By the way it's been too long since we girls have hung out; how’s about a Birds of Prey raid? You in?”

“Only if Oracle agrees”

“Oh pleasepleasepleaseplease!” Stephanie and Harley’s persistent pleading could be heard immediately afterwards. A polite cough interrupted the chaos.

“As enthusiastic as you ladies are for your plans, may I remind you that we have prior plans to care for first. Namely the training”

“Sorry Alfie” Harley said, chastised, “We’ll get out of your hair. C’mon ladies!”

“...So training?” Marc asked

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“What happened to you?” was the first thing Kim laughed out as the duo stepped into the cave, leaving a trail of confetti and glitter behind. Marinette looked back at her team, unimpressed, in their own state of disarray.

Chloe, Max, Marc and Nathaniel seemed to be nursing their own cases of migraines; most likely having pushed the limits of their own new abilities which relied on mental fortitude. Chloe and Jason’s powers were the most similar to Alfred’s which involved manipulating and projecting thoughts and ideas to the people around them or to specific targets. Nathaniel was developing the power to create illusions that only his target would be allowed to see. Marc could create intangible clones of himself but could still project what they were seeing and hearing to him. Max could teleport objects a few meters away from or towards him.

Kagami, Kim, Adrien and Nino seemed the most physically exhausted. Kagami was beginning to have slight control of fire, wind and water but not yet conjuring it; given her slight burn marks, wet clothes and messy hair Marinette would guess that she still hadn’t fully grasped the manipulation aspect outside of being Ryuuko. Kim’s own face was dirty and slightly bruised and matched that of Adrien’s. Kim had begun to use his chaotic energy to make the wackiest things happen but to have the outcome he wanted while Adrien could suck the luck out of people for small intervals lest he want to have the misfortune backlash cling on him. Nino’s was more tame though he now had to focus on two things since he could now use his energy to both heal and to create a shield that encompased his body like armor.

“Oh god you guys look like messes!” Alix laughed along with Luka, the only two that looked fine as they had a fairly tame patrol with Cass and Tim.

“Next time I see Riddler remind me to throw a glitter bomb” Marinette grumbled as she made her way to the showers.

“Not before I stab him with his stupid cane” Damian growled heading for the male showers.

“So how long till Daminette guys?” Adrien asked

“Definitely before the end of the year” Duke concluded, the others not being sure if he used his power or not.

“I’ll take you up on that. I’ll bet we make more money than with Red Scales” Stephanie laughed.

“Red Scales?” Luka asked curiously before the others yelled out.

“Nothing!”

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“Okay how come no one warned me about that!” Jason yelled as he came out of the Cave’s entrance. The group either gave questioning or amused looks.

“Oh, so you saw that too?” Alix asked, perched from one of the sofa’s armrests.

“You assholes could have given me a heads up” he complained before groaning into a sofa “God, someone get me some bleach”

“What’s Jaybird talking about?” Dick asked, coming in from the kitchen with an array of snacks for the rowdy bunch of teeneagers.

“Oh just Timbers getting some with the big bad snake boi” Stephanie sang, causing Jason to groan and Dick to choke on his own spit.

“More like trying to eat each other’s tongue out” Nathaniel responded in disgust.

“Timmy, no!” were the words the oldest yelled out before heading into the Batcave in record time.

“Anyway,” Stephanie began “It’s time to pay up bitches. Marinette and Cass get the loot”

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“Hmm, so I guess that’s what fresh blood splatters looks like” Chat Noir said in morbid interest.

“Well it's certainly more noticeable than dried blood” Viperion nodded along, watching as Red Robin and Red Hood carried out the interrogation from a one-way mirror. There was a new gang who specialized in child trafficking, most of the kids coming from Crime Alley and therefore not getting reported to the police; luckily they had Red Hood looking out for them.

“Yes, well we are here to see how they carry out their investigation and get used to all the squeamish things” Ladybug gave a calculated look, as though she herself were in there and what she would do to get the information out of the man they captured earlier that night.

“Do you guys think this sort of thing is going too far?” MultiMouse asked curiously, he was beginning to grow a bit uncomfortable with the amount of blood the man had begun to lose.

“I mean this asshole deserves it” Roter Fochs glared “I don’t think it's too much if it means saving all those kids”

“Standing on the edge of what is seen as a hero𑁋”

BANG

“Let’s you see all the things you can’t from the center” Ryuuko watched as the man was forcibly being held back up by Red Robin after Red Hood slammed his face on the interrogation table.

“World is not black and white” Black Bat spoke from next to them “Many shades of gray in between; We are in the gray”

Ko-Fi

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