#the one thing we CAN almost certainly confirm is that it is making us sleepy. possibly messing with coordination

[girldraki]

so mad rn that we had our first real drink while in a hurricane of mitigating factors we never exactly confirmed whether we had that alcohol gene and the ambiguity is killing us

[zeldadeservesabreak]

I’m getting really sick of people saying Link shouldn’t talk for a Zelda movie. Especially since it’s made clear in the games that he DOES talk. He isn’t a mute, his muteness is a limitation of the game design. Example A:

Here you can very clearly see that Link is talking to people and telling them of the events that took place. The game doesn’t give him a text box or dialogue because all it’s doing is reiterating what YOU the player JUST DID. It would be redundant. So he does a little gesture animation and the people he’s talking to react appropriately.

I mean, if we used the same animation shortcuts and logic that people use to say Link is a mute, then does that mean whenever Link reaches into his pockets and doesn’t explicitly hold out the exact item that characters are looking for he’s being a jerk? No, of course not. He’s not holding out nothing. He’s handing the object to the NPC. The reason it’s not shown is because It’s a programming trick save, nothing more.

And Link does have a voice. He emits vocals all the time whenever he attacks things, jumps, gets hit, hurt, sleepy, etc. He makes all the same sorts of goofy sound effects that Mario makes in the Mario games. He HAS a voice.

Furthermore if you read Zelda’s journals you’ll find that she was able to get him to open up and speak to her about his fears and trepidations. It’s canon IN THE GAME that he talks!

It’s fine if you wanna head-canon him as a mute, that’s fine. Do whatever you want with that. But when it comes to a movie, the protagonist needs to talk. And we don’t have to restrict it to the gameplay voice either. Look at the Mario movie.

Everyone laughed when Chris Pratt was chosen to do his voice and they all threw up their arms in anger that he wasn’t going to do an accent… and what happened? We got a perfectly normal sounding character for a perfectly normal voice. They even tossed in a few nods here and there to his Italian voice. But the bottom line? It was a big deal over nothing.

And if your fear of Link having a voice is out of the Zelda cartoon or those god awful CDI games from 30-fucking-years-ago then I strongly suggest you need to move on. Hell, fans fear of Link having the voice of the cartoon has become such a meme at this point that they’ve almost certainly ensured that if a Zelda movies does get made at some point in the film they will make a “excuse me, Princess!” joke.

That’s on the FANS for once again making a mountain out of a molehill.

Bottom line, in my opinion, Link should talk for a movie. There’s ample evidence in the games he does. He even has a quirky gremlin-sense of humor type personality if the few dialogue options presented in the games are anything to go off of.

Oh yeah and one more thing:

Illumination is NOT working on a Zelda movie. That was a RUMOR that was confirmed to be not true. There isn’t even a Zelda film in the works right now. You guys are freaking out over NOTHING…. Again!

[justice4canyonmoon]

An Evening Off

Summary: Both Y/n and Harry have a rare night off. Y/n has relaxing plans for how they should spend it.

Notes: Howdy! This is probably the last fic I’m going to post for the next two weeks; I have finals for college next week, and I have a fuck ton of work this week because professors love to give students everything at once 🙃 Anyway, I came up with the very fluffy concept because I crave emotional intimacy, so I hope you like it!!!!

Warnings: cursing ig. otherwise just a lot of fluff and taking a bath together 🥰

WC: 1.9k

Y/n was feeling lonely.

Her boring ass office job didn’t produce too many friends for her. While the people she worked with weren’t the absolute worst, they were just, well, bland. Their lives were cookie-cutter. The closest thing any of them had experienced to a true adventure was a trip to IKEA. Her two best friends, Maria and José, were across the country, since she had moved from one coast to another to live with her boyfriend. Sure, she could FaceTime them, but it just wasn’t the same. And after the call, she knew she’d just be more lonely than before.

Harry wasn’t an option either. He was working, far too hard for her liking. She understood, of course; it was album crunch time. He had to make all of the last minute decisions: finalizing the tracklist, photoshoots, and touch-ups on the chosen tracks in the studio. But she missed him. The only times she saw him anymore was right before bed, when he would stumble into the room sleepily and kiss her forehead before going right to sleep. So yeah, she was a bit lonely. And being alone on her day off wasn’t exactly the plans she wanted to have.

Luckily, the universe decided to answer her pleas. At around 1:00, after she had finished up a late shower, her phone buzzed with a text from her beloved.

H: Hi, baby! The only thing we have left on the agenda today is touching up a couple of the album tracks, so I should be home a bit earlier :D If you’d like, I can pick up some dinner on the way home.

She couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across her face. For the first time in ages, the two of them could finally have some time together! Maybe she could do something nice for him! He had been working so hard lately, he deserved it. And honestly, she did, too. An idea popped into her head, and she threw open the bathroom closet, taking a look through her bath supplies. She grinned triumphantly as she pulled out a citrus bath bomb, knowing that Harry enjoyed the calming scent of orange and lemon. A nice bath would not only help Harry destress, but it would also be the perfect cure to the loneliness that was settling in her heart. She quickly texted Harry a reply as she set the bath bomb aside.

Y/n: Sorry about the wait, babe, was just taking a shower. Forgot to this morning lol

He answered pretty much right away, making her smile.

H: It’s okay, baby! No need for apologies :)

Y/n: Okay! I’m excited to actually get to spend some time with you! I could really go for curry, if you’re up for Indian takeout.

H: Curry sounds good to me! I’ll probably be home between 6 or 7! I have to go now, but I can’t wait to see you :) I love you so much!!!!

Y/n: Can’t wait to see you, either, Har!!! I love you, too 💕💕

“Baby, ‘m home!”

Y/n looked at the clock. It was 7:30, a bit later than what Harry had said through text, but still much earlier than usual. She leapt up from the couch and sprinted to the front door, tackling Harry in a hug. He laughed loudly and wound his free arm around her waist, not fully able to hug her back because of the takeout bag in his arms.

“Let me put the food down so I can give y’ a proper hug.”

She let go with a small pout on her face, which Harry promptly kissed off while setting the bag down. He then wrapped her in a tight, two-armed embrace. She melted at the contact, resting her head on his chest and hugging him back just as tightly. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then rested his head on top of hers.

“Miss you, Har,” she said, her speech slightly muffled from talking into his t-shirt.

She could feel him frown against her hair, “I miss y’ too, Y/n. The album should be done by the end of the month, and then ‘m all yours until tour starts.”

“Good. I was gonna break into the studio and steal you back myself if you weren’t done soon.”

He chuckled, “I don’ think Jeff would like that very much.”

“Fuck Jeff! I need you back here,” she scoffed.

“I certainly hope y’ don’ want t’ fuck Jeff.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re annoying.”

He grinned cheekily, “But yet y’ still here.”

“Lord only knows why,” Y/n grumbled, though there was a smile on her face.

They pulled away reluctantly, both realizing how hungry they were. The two chowed down on chicken curry and naan while chatting about their day. Y/n spent most of her day off watching The Great British Bake-Off and snuggling with Daiquiri, their black lab. Harry had been putting the finishing touches on three of the album songs (“I can’ wait to play them f’ y’, baby”), and ranted about the traffic coming home (“I would’ve gotten home 45 minutes earlier, but the freeway was ridiculously clogged up!”). It was domestic in a way that Y/n never thought she would have, and she loved every second of it.

When everything from dinner was cleaned up, Y/n figured now was as good a time as any to reveal her plans for the rest of their evening.

“Hey, Har,” she paused, then continued when she heard his hum of acknowledgment, “would you want to take a bath with me?”

He raised an eyebrow, “Is this a ploy t’ get me naked?”

“No,” Y/n said bashfully, “I just thought it would be nice to take a bath together. I found a citrus bath bomb at the back of the closet, and I thought it would be relaxing for us.”

Harry’s eyes softened and he smiled gently at her, “That sounds perfect, love. Y’ too sweet.”

The two made their way to the bathroom, hand in hand. Y/n plucked the bath bomb from the closet and laid it in the tub, turning on the warm water. The water became a pastel shade of yellow, reflecting the lemony scent of the bath bomb. As she was checking the temperature, a pair of tattooed arms wrapped around her waist, and a kiss was pressed to her cheek. The heat radiating off of his body led her to believe that Harry had already rid himself of his clothes. When she turned around, her suspicions were confirmed.

“You work fast,” she commented, making a humming sound when the temperature was to her satisfaction.

“A bit,” he confirmed, leaning over to turn off the nozzle “just wanna take a bath with y’, love. Speaking of, let’s get those pesky clothes off of y’, shall we?”

Y/n nodded and Harry reached forward, almost reverently lifting her (his) sweatshirt over her head. She shimmied out of her leggings and removed her undergarments. She stepped into the bath first, gesturing for him to follow. He obeyed, and sat between her legs, resting his head on her shoulder. The two sat in silence for a while, basking in each other’s company. Y/n couldn’t remember a time where she had felt this at peace. But she also knew that Harry had forgotten to shower that morning since he was nearly late to the studio, so she reached over and grabbed some soap and a washcloth. She looked down at him and giggled softly when she realized he was almost asleep

“Wake up, baby,” she crooned, “let me wash you.”

“‘M awake,” he muttered, “promise.”

“Sure you are, that’s why your eyes are closed,” Y/n teased.

He only hummed in response, making her giggle again. She kissed his forehead and began washing him gently. The soft circles she was rubbing into his skin with the washcloth were soothing, and a sleepy smile made its way onto his face.

“‘Y always take such good care of me. Dunno how I got s’ lucky.”

Y/n felt her face grow warm as she reached for the shampoo, “I think I’m the lucky one. You always take care of me, too.”

She began rubbing the shampoo into his silky locks. Breathy gasps fell from his lips as she tugged lightly as his hair, working the shampoo into his curls.

“Feels s’ good,” he murmured.

“Glad you’re feeling good, Har,” Y/n replied in a hushed tone.

She rinsed his hair and repeated the process with the conditioner. By the time she had finished, Harry had fully fallen asleep on her shoulder. She cooed softly at how adorable he looked. He was like an angel; his long lashes were speckled with little water drops, his wet hair stuck to his forehead in an oddly endearing way, and a small smile was spread across his lips. He looked so relaxed in a way that Y/n hadn’t seen in a while. The bath helped her feel more at ease too; the monotonous motions of washing Harry made the stress from her job melt away, and the loneliness that had plagued her earlier in the day was washed away by the warm water. But she knew she had to wake Harry. She wasn’t quite strong enough to carry all six feet of him back to their bedroom.

Y/n gently jostled his shoulder and whispered, “Harry. Need you to wake up, baby.”

He groaned softly, making her giggle softly once more. His eyes slowly blinked open to reveal his jade irises, and he stumbled his way out of the tub, making her laugh a little harder as she followed. Y/n got out two towels and dried them both off, knowing that Harry was much too tired to do it on his own. She took his hand and walked toward their bedroom.

When they reached the bedroom, Y/n guided Harry to sit on the bed while she picked out sweats for both of them to wear to sleep (she knew that Harry had a particular fondness for when she wore his clothes to bed, so she got out his clothes for both of them). Harry pliantly moved his limbs as she clothed him, and watched her with moony eyes as she pulled on her own sleepwear.

“Look s’ pretty in m’ clothes, love,” he complimented, relishing in the shy smile that appeared on her face.

“Thank you, Har. Let’s get you to bed, okay?” she replied.

Y/n turned off the light and joined Harry on the bed. He was already lying on his side, so she wound her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. Usually, he was the big spoon, but with the whole mood they had set all night, it just felt right for her to be the one cuddling him. Y/n barely heard Harry mumble a “g’night. Love you,” before his breathing evened out. She smiled and closed her eyes, reflecting on the day. Just spending one evening with her boyfriend made her feel right as rain, and the loneliness that had once threatened to overtake her was totally gone. Though she had been taking care of him that night, he was also taking care of her. And sure, they were both going back to work tomorrow, but in two weeks, Harry would be done with the album and would be all hers. When sleep finally overtook her, all she had were the most pleasant of dreams.

[supercorpkid]

Extraneous Variable

Error: n1.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Brainy x Reader

Word count: 3220.

So what if Lena told you not to mess with alien technology, and that ‘whatever comes from it, it’s clearly evil’? They had a device to erase the mind that you couldn’t crack, it should be obvious to her that eventually you would find your way to it in your lab and try to figure it out. You are an inventor after all, you should know how this thing works.

And it’s crazy, the number of things you can think with just a few changes here and there. This piece of tech is so groundbreaking that if you figure it out, you’ll change the world completely. If you just find the courage to press that little button.

You can do it. You’re a scientist. If your mind gets erased, then you already have the device to bring the memories back. And if something else happens, you sure can think of a solution too. Here’s to not dying.

You press the button.

You’re pretty sure this wasn’t supposed to be happening. The machine seems to be overheating and you’re positive that the entire room shouldn’t be blue. Maybe you should get out of the lab.

You run to the door, but halfway through you fall on the floor. You look around, confused. How-how did everything get so big? Oh, no. Oh, wait. Oh, dear Rao. Things didn’t get bigger! You got smaller! How? You get up and try to walk, but you fall face first on the floor.

Ouch, that hurts. Wait, wait. What are these weird little fat hands? You look at the shiniest surface in the room and then, BOOM, you realize. You’re a baby. A BABY! You got turned into a BA-BY! Shit. What do you do now?

Your phone is on top of the table, and you obviously can’t reach it. You try to fly, but you don’t leave the ground. You look at the surface again just to be sure. It’s you, it’s really you. You look like all the old photos of yourself you can think of. So, you’re stuck in your old baby’s body, but you still think like a 16-years-old-girl? Ok. Not weird at all.

You’re sorry about what you’re doing next, but you need help out of this mess. You press the emergency button on the super watch and wait until Kara appears. No longer than two minutes later.

“Baby! Did you call?” You hear from the other side of the door. “Please, open the door.”

Well, that’s just it. You can’t.

“Little one, if you don’t open it, I’m gonna have to break it.” Kara waits a beat, and when nothing happens, she pushes the door. You look at the door coming off on her hands, and she puts it on the side. “Baby, where are you?” She is looking up, so she hasn’t seen you yet.

“Mommy!” You yell, to get her attention and she looks down at you.

“What the-?” Kara kneels down in front of you, blinking slowly, trying to take in what’s in front of her. She furrows her brows, tilts her head, then looks up again. “Baby, did you make another baby with your DNA?”

“Mommy!” You say again, and she looks down on you one more time. You open your arms, so she can pick you up, and Kara does just that. “Baby!”

“Well, you certainly look and sound like my daughter.” Kara sits you on your table and looks around. It takes her a couple of minutes to finally look back at you with wide eyes. “You ARE my daughter!”

“Yes!”

Kara paces around the lab, looking at you a few times and looking around. She looks as shocked as you think she would.

“Mom!” You ask and she comes back to the table. “Mom, hi!”

“You want to go say hi to your mom?” She asks, to which you shake your head agreeing.

“Peas.”

“Oh.” Kara holds your face between her hands with the biggest smile, and eyes full of tears. “It’s you little one! You’re a baby again. You said, ‘peas’ instead of ‘please’.” One tear falls from her eye. “It’s you! You’re my baby again!”

Ok. This is going to go on forever if you let her, so, you might as well speed this up.

“Mom, mom, mom!” You chant, until Kara stops kissing your face, and picks you up again.

“Well, I do not miss you only wanting Lena, but ok.” She makes her way out of the lab, and you feel bad for chanting for Lena so annoyingly. You reach for her face, and she looks down on you. You smile at her, and she smiles back.

“Sowy mommy.” Kara looks at you, and she looks like she’s about to explode from happiness.

“Can we just keep you like this forever?” Kara asks, kissing your face a few more times.

“No!” You frown and she laughs.

“Ok, ok.” Kara goes into the elevator. “Let’s get Lena and try to figure out how to reverse this.”

Kara stops on another floor, and you look around trying to figure out why you didn’t go to Lena’s office. Oh, no. She might be in a meeting. Kara makes her way to a room, and knocks on the door, waving at Lena on the other side.

“Let’s surprise her, shall we?” She hides you with her cape, watching Lena coming closer.

“Supergirl, I’m in the middle of a meeting. I can’t talk right now.” Lena spits out of gritted teeth.

“Well, this might change your mind.” Kara takes the cape out of your face, and you smile at Lena.

“Aah!” She yells, but soon covers her mouth with her hands. “Where did you get this baby?”

“This is our daughter!” Kara shows you again.

“Mom!” You say, so you can confirm Kara’s theory.

“This is not our daughter! Our daughter is sixteen!” Lena says, looking at you, and you open your arms, throwing yourself at her. She doesn’t pick you up. “What in the fucking hell is going on?”

“I was hoping you could answer!” Kara says and you fight out of her arms and into Lena’s. “She wants you.”

“I-I, dear God, why are our lives so damn weird?” Lena asks and bends over a little to look in your eyes. “Ok baby. I mean, actual baby. If you are somehow my teenage daughter trapped in a baby’s body, talk.”

“Yes. Baby.” You talk.

“This can’t be true.”

“Mom! Mom!” You open your arms again, Lena still doesn’t pick you up, much preoccupied with the meeting happening behind her. Ok, well, you’re sorry, but this meeting has to end now.

It’s not one of your finest moments, you have to admit, but you yell loud and cry even louder. Kara rocks you gently, while shushing you, and Lena is begging you to stop.

“MOM!” You yell, mid-cry, throwing yourself from Kara’s arms.

“Please pick her up!” Kara begs desperately, putting you in Lena's arms and you stop crying as soon as she does so, giving them a little satisfied smile.

“I have a meeting!” Lena tells you, and then looks at Kara asking for help.

“Not anymore. Now, you have a baby. Again.” Kara gives her a forced smile, and Lena looks back at the room with every man staring at her. Because, obviously, your crying has caught some attention.

“I’m sorry gentlemen, but it seems that this-” Lena shows you to them. “Matter is more urgent. The CFO will proceed with the meeting, if you can excuse me.”

She leaves, before anyone even has time to answer. Kara closes the door behind them, and they rush to Lena’s office.

She puts you sitting on the couch, and you stare at them, with a little smile on your face. So you don’t have a lot of words to explain what’s going on. What do you do now?

“Little one, how did this happen?” Kara kneels in front of the couch, and Lena sits on the floor next to her.

You smile sheepishly to both of them.

“Mom. Mommy. Baby.” Are those the only words you know? You might as well try every single one in your vocabulary. “Booboo!”

“What?” Lena asks, looking at her boobs. “There’s no more milk left in these booboos, my love.”

Oh no. Rao, no. Wrong word.

“Poopoo!” You try instead, and watch Kara trying to hold a chuckle.

“You want to go potty?” Kara asks. What? No! This is ridiculous. What kind of stupid baby only knows these stupid words?

“Peepee?” Ok, you know this won’t work.

“Ok, I’ll take you potty.” Kara stands up, ready to pick you up, and no way you’re going potty in front of her! Although, yeah, you could go to the bathroom right now. Guess you’ll have to hold it. You cry when she mentions picking you up, and she huffs, before kneeling again.

“I don’t understand what you want!”

“Kara, I think she’s trying to find a way to tell us what happened.” Lena gets up from her chair and takes a piece of paper and a marker. “Maybe you can draw?”

She puts the paper in front of you and the marker in your hands. Great! You just have to draw the machine and tell them to reverse it. You finish your drawing and show it to them.

“Is that a-” Kara closes one eye, backs off a little, gets very close to the paper, blinks twice, then furrows her brows. “A poopoo?”

No, it’s not a poopoo! It’s a… You look down at your drawing. Shit. It’s a poopoo.

You cry. And this time you actually cry because you’re feeling sad. Hopeless. Stupid. What the hell have you done? And how are you going to reverse it?

“Oh no baby, it’s ok!” Lena picks you up, gently rocking you in her arms. “We’ll figure it out. I promise. You’re not going to be a baby forever.”

“Baby no?” You ask. Wow, good for you, you added a new word to your vocabulary. And it’s not even grammatically correct.

“Baby no.” Kara repeats, kissing your forehead. “Shall we get home?”

“Yeah.” Lena stands up and grabs her purse. “You go buy diapers and I’ll take her home.”

Wait, what? Diapers? You’re not wearing diapers!

“No!” You say to them. “No!”

“Well, you can’t stay wrapped around your t-shirt forever. What if you need to pee?” Kara asks and you poke Lena’s cheek.

“Peepee.” You look back at Kara, with a smug look on your face.

“Oh, really? So you’re not going to pee your pants? Ok. If you say so.” They are almost walking out of Lena’s office when you realize you can’t really hold your pee forever, so you poke Lena again.

“Mom, peepee, peas?” You ask, and Lena does instant heart eyes at you.

“How is she so adorable?” Lena says before taking you potty. Rao, you can’t believe you’re thinking things like ‘potty’ now.

“Ok, can we go now?” Kara asks. You think that maybe you all should be heading downstairs to your lab, to figure out how to reverse this, but at the same time you’re so sleepy, your brain is kind of foggy and you can’t think right now.

When you wake up, unfortunately still as a baby, you’re already at home. You’re laying in a very improvised crib that Kara must have put together last minute.

“Mommy?” You call, and Lena’s head appears in your eyesight.

“Hey, babygirl. Oh!” Lena looks down and smiles at you. “You peed your pants.”

“No!” You yell, making her laugh.

“I’m kidding, baby. Come here.” She picks you up, and you smile at her. Lena spends a few seconds just staring lovingly at you. “Our lives are so weird, but it feels good getting to hold you like this again.”

“Baby.”

“Yeah. But the cutest one.” She kisses your cheek, making you smile wider at her.

“No booboos?” You ask, when Lena sits you on the counter, in front of her.

“Stop saying that, you know what it means.” She jokes, but quickly understands you’re hungry, so she picks up baby food from the fridge. “Kara picked it up on the way. Do you wanna try them?”

“No.”

“It was a lot easier when you were a baby baby.” Lena sighs and you open your mouth, giving up. What else is there to do? Starve? No, thank you. She puts some food in your mouth, but before you can’t even swallow-

“OH MY GOD!” You hear a voice coming from the backyard door, and you look there only to realize the truth. It’s Jamie. Real life-size Jamie. Looking at a miniature life-size you. “It’s true! She is a baby again!”

“I told you!” Kara comes from behind her, giving her a shit-eating grin, and you wish you could roll your eyes to both of them.

“Oh my God, little Danvers! You’re actually little again.” Jamie comes closer getting face-to-face with you. “Oh, wow. I always knew you would do something hilariously dumb, but this is-” She points at you, and starts laughing at your face. “Next level stupidity even for you.”

HA-HA. And you’re hilariously dirty, big Danvers. You think, before spitting all of your food in her face.

“Hey! No!” Lena picks you up, getting you away from Jamie. “That wasn’t nice! Say you’re sorry to your cousin. Come on. She’s here to help.”

“Sowy.”

“Sorry Jamie, come get cleaned up.” Kara holds her shoulders, directing her to the bedrooms. “You can pick any of your cousin’s clothes you would like.”

What? That’s not fair!

“Oooh, I know just which one!” She rushes out of the kitchen, and you look at Lena.

“She came to help you. I can’t believe you’ve done that.” Lena scolds you a little too seriously. Ok, so apparently being a baby doesn’t give you carte blanche to do whatever you want.

“Sowy, mom.” You ask and wink your big blue eyes at her and Lena wavers in front of you.

“God, you’re so cute. It’s not fair!”

It doesn’t take long until Jamie comes downstairs wearing your favorite T-shirt, and you stick your tongue out at her when none of your moms are looking.

“Ok, well, Jamie is going to babysit you, while we go to L Corp figure out what you did and how to undo it.” Lena says, picking up her purse, and you see Kara following behind.

“Mommy, no!” You ask, and Kara turns around, to look at you.

“Little one, mommy is going to help, ok? You stay here with Jamie and be nice.”

“MOMMY NO!” You don’t want to be left alone with Jamie. You know for a fact she has zero experience with children. She almost killed her doll! Let alone you!

“Hey.” Kara comes back to you. “Stop that. We have to undo the mess you made.”

“Mom, yes. Mommy, no!” Ok, fine. She seems to want things the hard way, very well! You can do it the hard way. You stare into her eyes, before starting to cry as loud as you can. “Mommy no! No!”

“Ugh!” Kara picks you up, looking at your red face, and watery eyes. “Good time to just need me, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” You stop crying, and smile at her.

“Ok, fine. I’ll call Alex and Brainy to help. You two stay with the needy baby and try to figure out a way to get information.” Lena leaves, and Kara looks back at Jamie.

“Any idea how to get information out of an 18-month-baby?”

“How about this or that?” Jamie asks, to which Kara furrows her brows. “Ok, get me your computer.”

You can’t believe Jamie had this idea and you haven’t. Well, you’re a baby so it doesn’t really matter what ideas you had, they wouldn’t understand you. She shows you a bunch of pictures, and asks questions like “was it an experience or an alien?” Then you point to the machine in the picture. They keep asking questions until they have a brief grasp of what you have done.

“I’m going to call Lena.” Kara passes the baby food to Jamie. “Keep feeding her.”

Jamie grabs the food and looks at you, squinting her eyes. You hold her gaze defiant.

“If you want to eat, you need me to feed you. And I will only feed you if you promise you won’t spit on me again.” Jamie says, holding the spoon full of baby food just a little too far from your mouth. “So, do you want it?” You agree with your head. “Will you spit it?”

“No.” You admit, feeling defeated. Jamie puts the spoon on your mouth.

“Good baby!” She jokes, and Rao, how much you wanted to have more words in your vocabulary right now. Anything from ‘shut up’ to ‘fuck you’, would do just fine. Oh well, you can always tell her that once you come back to your old body.

Jamie keeps feeding you the most disgusting food you ever tasted in your life, and you keep eating because goddamn it, you turned yourself into a baby! A baby! Kara comes back a little later saying that with Brainy’s help, it looks like they’ve figured out the problem.

Kara flies to L Corp with you in her arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay like this for a while longer? It would solve all of your problems.”

Sure. Then add some more, like, having to go potty in front of people. Ugh, what a nightmare. You hope you never have to do that again in your life.

“No, mommy.”

“Just another day. Please?” Kara begs and you do your best to roll your eyes. You don’t think you’ve accomplished that, though, when her reaction is ‘awww’.

“Mommy. Baby, no. Peas.”

“Ok, ok. Can you, maybe, make a copy of yourself and-”

“Oh, there she is!” Lena says, when Kara walks in the lab with you. You’re glad she cut Kara’s absurd request off. “Look at my baby, Alex!”

“Oh, hey kiddo!” Aunt Alex looks at you with an amused expression. “What a mess you got yourself into, huh?”

She can say that again.

“Ok, I reverted the command she gave. I’m positive it will work. Well, I’m 80% positive, which in this scenario is a good percentage.” Brainy says, and your moms look at you, almost like they miss you already. “Ok, she has to be alone in the room, so maybe put her on the floor, and put the clothes she’ll need next to her.”

“Hey, are you ok?” Kara asks, and you agree with your head. “I love you.”

“I love you, babygirl. You’re the cutest baby I’ve ever seen, but I want my beautiful teenage daughter back.” Lena kisses your face a couple of times and smiles at you. “God, look at you! We should’ve made ten of her. Just look at her face.”

“There’s still time.” Kara jokes with a smile, putting you on the floor. “See you in a few seconds, little one.”

The room flashes blue again, and, in a few seconds, you look in front of you and see long hairy legs, instead of baby ones. Wait. Hairy legs? You stand up and look down on yourself.

“AAAAAAAAAAH!”

Notes:

@oncemoonie gave me so many awesome funny ideas, hope you enjoy this.

[moonlightserenadeeznutz]

Wake up sleepy head

Scorbus prompt from @abi-the-gay (sorry if I missed any details). Albus sneaks off to Malfoy Manor after a nightmare, and he and Scorpius get caught by Draco walking in on them asleep together the next morning.

A flash of green light exploded in front of Albus’s eyes, and her face... her face grinned right back at him.

She was holding something, no... someone. Her arms were wrapped around a blonde boy, long fingers creeping towards his neck, like vines. Scorpius. She had Scorpius. Albus tried to scream, to yell, to call out Scorpius’s name, but no sound came out. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t stop her from pulling out her wand and pressing it to Scorpius’s temple. Albus looked into the boy’s grey eyes, desperate and pleading. And all he could do was watch.

“Avada Kedavra!” Another flash of green light bursting into his bedroom as Albus suddenly lay awake, panting, sweating, terrified.

Scorpius. Where was Scorpius? Everything Albus had seen had felt so real, so vivid. His stomach dropped as he had the sudden, awful thought: what if it was real?

He sat up in bed, his mind running at a mile an hour. He had to see Scorpius. Now. Sending a letter would take too long. He wanted to see his... he wanted to see Scorpius.

It was still late, dark out. Everyone was fast asleep. No one would notice if he snuck downstairs and used the floo network to visit Malfoy Manor.

Albus didn’t risk turning the lights on; he knew his house like the back of his hand, so he managed to reach the living room fireplace with little mishap. Albus took a handful of floo powder from the pot beside the stokers. The fire had long since died out, but the coals were still hot enough for the powder to work.

“Malfoy Manor!” Albus instructed, as loudly as he could without alerting the rest of the house, which still left his voice barely above a whisper. He hoped he wouldn’t get splinched on the way there.

Green flames erupted around him, and he had to close his eyes; too reminiscent of his nightmare. Of Delphi. Of Scorpius.

Before he knew it, he was thrown out the other side of the floo network, regaining his balance on the polished floor of Malfoy Manor. It was dark. Quiet. Was that a good sign? Or a bad sign? Albus wasn’t sure whether he wanted to find out or not.

But he had to. He couldn’t leave without making sure Scorpius was alright.

And that’s when he suddenly realised: he had no idea where Scorpius’s bedroom was. And it was a big house. He could be searching all night.

Albus began on the next floor up, up the large, winding staircase. The first few rooms were rather sparse, uninhabited, and one of them- which made Albus hold his breath upon entering- was Draco’s room. Albus closed the door behind him as silently as he could.

He stood for a moment and pondered his next move, soon spotting a door at the far end of the hallway. As he drew nearer, he noticed some sort of trinket hanging from the doorknob, a kind of lucky charm perhaps. Scorpius was relatively superstitious. This must have been his room.

Albus slowly opened the door, his heart beating faster in trepidation at what he might find. As his eyes adjusted, he saw a figure underneath the covers of a bed, in the middle of the room.

“Scorpius?” Called Albus in a whisper. “Scorp!”

The figure moved, turned around, and switched on the oil lamp beside his bed. The light illuminated the faces of the two boys, and Albus was so relieved to see Scorpius alive and well- if a little perplexed- that he almost started shaking. Scorpius noticed his slightly panicked disposition.

“Albus, what are you doing here? What’s wrong?” Scorpius was clearly concerned, and Albus felt bad for waking him up. Of course it was just a dream, you idiot.

“I’m sorry, I just... I just had to make sure you were okay.”

“Another nightmare?” Albus nodded. Scorpius moved over and opened up the covers.

“Do you want to stay?” He asked, and Albus gladly accepted, thankful that Scorpius didn’t ask anymore questions, such as how he had got there or what the nightmare was about. He simply let Albus snuggle up beside him and settle into his arms, exhaustion washing over both of them.

“I can read if you want?” Scorpius suggested, a murmur in Albus’s ear.

“That would be nice.” Scorpius reached over Albus to pick up a book from his bedside table.

“It’s a muggle book,” Scorpius explained. “Rose sent it to me a few weeks ago. I’m already halfway through, but I’ll start again from the beginning.” Albus tried to listen, really he did, but as soon as Scorpius started speaking, his soft, calm voice meeting Albus’s ear, Albus immediately felt his eyes start to close.

“This Side of Paradise, by F. Scott Fitzgerald,” began Scorpius, and within moments, Albus was fast asleep.

————

The following morning, Draco was sat at the dining table in his dressing gown, sipping his morning coffee and reading the Daily Prophet. He was about to check on Scorpius, thinking it odd that his son wasn’t up yet. Scorpius was usually awake way before him, a morning person through and through.

Draco finished his coffee, folded up the newspaper, and began his ascent up the flight of stairs towards Scorpius’s room. Reaching Scorpius’s door, he knocked lightly, receiving no reply. Draco was starting to get worried now, so he allowed himself to enter.

His son wasn’t alone.

Scorpius opened his eyes as he entered, and froze. He tried to nudge awake the sleeping figure beside him.

“Al. Albus, wake up,” he whispered frantically. Albus? Thought Draco. Albus Potter? Albus groaned lightly, and mumbled something inaudible. Never had Draco felt so awkward in his life, and he coughed nervously, finally alerting the boy beside Scorpius.

Albus turned around- and Draco could see that it was indeed Albus Potter- and immediately turned back, facing away from Draco and burying his face in Scorpius’s chest, muttering something about not being able to deal with anything today.

“Dad, I can explain...” Scorpius began, but Draco interjected.

“How about I leave you two for a moment and you can explain downstairs.” Scorpius nodded gratefully, and Draco left the two in peace, heading back to the dining room and trying to process what he’d just seen.

————

Ten minutes later, and two fifteen year old boys were sitting awkwardly in front of Draco, both of them avoiding eye contact with him.

“So...” Draco began. “Are you two...?” He sort of gestured between the two of them, hoping they’d fill in the blanks.

“We’re together,” confirmed Scorpius.

“Right...” Draco didn’t know how to feel. He wanted to be supportive of his son of course, but a Potter and a Malfoy? Who would have thought it? It would certainly take some time to wrap his head around the idea.

“So that means you’re...”

“Gay?” Draco nodded. “Yeah, I am...” Scorpius finally made eye contact with his father, and Draco noted how terrified he looked.

“Alright. That’s fine, Scorp. I love you no matter what.” Scorpius looked at him disbelievingly, which sent a pang of hurt through Draco’s chest.

“Really?” He asked, hopefully.

“Of course! You’re my son, and I’m proud of you.” Scorpius smiled at him, clearly relieved.

“So how did you two... how did you two become a thing?”

“Oh, um...” Albus coughed nervously.

“Well, it was after the whole Delphi thing,” began Scorpius. “You see we... we had a lot of nightmares, and we would calm each other down.” Scorpius fiddled with his sleeves.

“Is that why Albus was here?” Prompted Draco. They both nodded in unison.

“Yeah, and we’d read to each other,” Albus continued. “Stuff that Rose would get from the library and lend to Scorpius.”

“And I suppose it just went from there. Started out as platonic, and... became romantic.”

“So you both knew you liked each other?” Draco knew he was being too personal, but this was the first time Scorpius had ever really opened up to him, and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

“I liked Scorpius, because he was nice to me, especially when I’d fallen out with dad.”

“And I saw Albus shirtless once, and I just knew-” Albus snorted, immediately stifling a laugh. Scorpius too was holding in a smile. Draco just raised his eyebrows, letting the two have their own inside joke, before continuing.

“Well, you both have my blessing,” Draco concluded. “Thank you for telling me Scorpius. Even if you didn’t have much of a choice.” Scorpius nodded in acknowledgement. “And, Albus. I take it your parents don’t know where you are?” Albus suddenly remembered what time it was, and his eyes widened.

“No, you’re right. I need to get back.”

“I’ll see you off,” said Scorpius. They all stood up. Albus left the room to return to the fireplace in the living room, leaving Scorpius and Draco alone for a moment.

“Your mother would be proud too, you know,” said Draco, his voice softer than before. Scorpius looked at him, grey eyes meeting grey. Draco hadn’t even noticed that they were almost the same height now. How had that happened?

“You really think so?”

“Of course. All she wanted was for you to be happy. And I take it you are?” Scorpius nodded.

“I am. Really.”

“Then she would be proud.” Scorpius smiled, paused for a second, and then closed the gap between them. For a few moments, they hugged in silence. Unfamiliar, but nice. Draco was glad to have his son back.

[amajikilvr]

r.e.m - shouto todoroki

word count 1.1k

reader type gender-neutral

premise helping your exhausted pro hero fiancé get to bed after a long day at work

your steady heartbeat picks up, stomach dips slightly, at the abrasive clanking of the doorknob being jiggled. the sudden rattling goes on for a bit too long for your taste before you finally hear the familiar click of the door being unlocked.

“shouto?” you call out nervously as soon as the door shuts with a final whoosh, attention far removed from your phone and the video still playing on it.

“yeah.”

his voice brings you a soothing wave of calm like always, but even from that one word, you can immediately tell he’s a bit worse for wear. that’s to be expected. he’d worked a much longer shift than usual and based off some of the news reports you had seen earlier, it hadn’t exactly been an easy one.

you relax into your pillow again and wiggle your chilled feet against the soft fleece lining of your blanket.

it probably wouldn’t be that hard to doze off right here and now, to click off your phone and your thoughts, but you’re more than determined to wait for shouto first.

and wait you do.

the illuminating digits on the bedside clock continue to click upwards, time easily creeping into the early morning hours that tease your eyelids with increasing grogginess. you fight off the tempting slumber and listen to the occasional noises from shouto; heavy shuffling footsteps, a cupboard shutting with a little too much force, the faucet running…

your serene demeanor wasn’t ready in the slightest to be startled by the sudden sharp noise of something crashing and shattering violently on the floor. you can hear several curses fly from shouto’s mouth, each word coated in clear exasperation.

before shouting out to him on near instinct, something in you urges you to free yourself from your warm covers instead. you’re a tad bit disoriented as you slowly make your way down the hallway until you finally arrive at the kitchen.

the admittedly amusing sight of shouto just standing there with an impromptu mosaic of glass shards at his feet, worn face petulant instead of its usual blankness, pulls a soft laugh out of you.

“what happened, baby?” you inquire gently as you stride over to him and quickly press your mouth to his smooth cheek. your lips brush against the crisp bandaid plastered to the skin.

he sighs, already moving in closer to you. “was trying to get some water. dropped the cup.”

“sorry if i woke you.”

shouto’s capable arms drape over your neck and his somewhat damp, disheveled hair tickles your face. despite his sluggish appearance, he wastes no time before urgently meeting your lips with his own. the kiss would come across as sloppy and distasteful to most, his over excited tongue and its lack of patience seeming more amateur than ever.

the way his large weathered hands delicately dance on your waist and lower back make you think differently.

you pull away with a pleased exhale, content and eased, but shouto looks even more perturbed. the expression is almost childlike. his mismatched brows furrow and his plush bottom lip juts out just slightly.

another teeny chuckle leaves you as you place a hand on his firm forearm. “c’mon, you’re exhausted, let’s just get you to bed. i’ll clean this up tomorrow, okay?”

“mhm, okay.” shouto hums in disgruntled agreement, gemlike eyes dull and missing their animated sparkle from a few moments ago.

he lets you lead him back to the bedroom as your hand slides down the length of his arm to loosely interlock with his much warmer one.

your use of the word exhaustion hadn’t really been a mere exaggeration; shouto nearly trips over his own stumbling feet a good couple of times and you’d think his eyelids were made of lead based on the way he struggled to keep them open and alert.

shouto plops down on the edge of the unmade bed and looks like he wants nothing more than to just lay back and doze off. the sight makes your heart clench with both adoration and slight guilt.

you reach out and lightly tug on a few blood-red strands until they become nearly taut. they’re definitely moistened, confirming your earlier suspicion that he’d already showered when he changed back at the agency. well, that certainly does make things easier for you both.

after leaving a meaningful peck on the apple of his scarred cheek, you hurry off to grab him some clean, comfy clothes to sleep in.

a loose-fitting black shirt and worn pair of sweatpants are what you swipe from the shared closet.

by the time you return to him, as if he has the strength equivalent of a newborn, shouto has flopped onto his back like a rag doll. his eyes are closed and he already looks unbelievably peaceful. you sigh, almost a chuckle, and shake your head affectionately.

“hey,” you give his thigh a quick pat and receive a disgruntled hum in return. “let’s get you out of these…”

he shakily lifts up his hips in cooperation after you get his jeans undone and struggle to tug them down to his ankles. the various scratches and scrapes scattered across the entirety of his bare legs and thighs are just a further testament to every struggle and success of his day.

you toss the jeans aside and help him into the much more comfortable sweats. “there we go.”

his shirt and jacket come off next, revealing a rather large bandage plastered onto his naked torso. you know better than to ask, but your insides swell with more misplaced guilt and regret at the sight of the wound.

“i’m so proud of you, sho.”

“thanks…? love you.”

you embrace him gingerly after slipping the shirt over his head and assisting with the armholes. “i love you too.”

he smiles, a small and clearly fatigued one, and nudges his face against yours. cherry vanilla swirled hair lightly prods at your temple and then nearly pokes you in the eye when he suddenly lurches away.

shouto and his sleepy clumsiness look endearingly comical as he scoots backwards to reach his side of the bed. you can practically feel his blissed out relief as soon as his head hits the long awaited pillow.

it appeared brushing teeth was out of the question.

weary yourself, you don’t hesitate a bit before practically launching into bed to join him. you nestle comfortably against the backside of shouto’s curled up figure and throw an arm over his side to rest idly on his belly. it’s tempting to press a soft kiss to the back of his neck, his shoulders, but you settle for entwining your legs with his.

shouto’s whistling breaths and occasional faint snores are the lovely background noise that lulls you into a deep sleep along with him.

[my-naughty-writings-and-musings]

Got some aftercare headcanons for Cygate, Shadowstriker Rodimus, Drift with fem reader after an intense intimacy?

Ohohoho indeed I DO! We support healthy and loving intimacy on this blog 1000%

Cygate

·After anything bordering on intense or highly passionate sexy times, these two are equally insistent on caring for you, though their methods are admittedly quite different. Tailgate is more focused on affectionate fussing; he wants you to be comfortable, and has a sort of mental checklist of tiny details to ensure you're alright. Cyclonus is more intent on being tenderly supportive, asking you softly if you need anything and acting as a strong, protective presence for you to feel safe with. It's actually an excellent balance between the two of them.

·For the physical activities done to help you relax, one in particular is chosen by Tailgate on the regular; warm baths. One can hardly blame him for how he enjoys being in a tub with all three of you, but you certainly benefit as well. The sweet smelling soaps chosen by Cyclonus and the warm steam of the bath just melt away your tension to the point you're almost asleep by the end. A soft washcloth helps to ensure you're clean as well, and neither one especially minds if you do doze off while being scrubbed. They both find it absolutely adorable.

·Cyclonus will insist on straightening the bed before sleep, allowing Tailgate a chance to hold and cuddle you while he does so. The mini is typically bordering on sleep himself at this point, so you're inundated with sleepy affirmations of love and adoration as he nuzzles you all the while. Cyclonus will ensure you're both good and sleepy before carrying you to the now neat and tidy bed, where he is careful to arrange everyone in the most comfortable way possible. Should you still be awake, you'll catch his soft expression of love as he confirms you're indeed well and ready to get some sleep after an exhausting but rewarding round of intimacy.

Shadowstriker

·Though brash and dominant in almost all things, Shadowstriker enters a state of methodical calm after hardcore interface, enough that she appeared to be in a trance the first time you saw this play out. However, she's still the dominant in this stage, by which she means all the work is on her. You won't be moving a finger. She's more than strong enough to carry you to the washroom for a warm shower or bath, and will gently wash you clean before bundling you up in some soft towels. Expect some soft kisses during all of this.

·As she prefers to wind down a bit more, she'll set you on her lap to watch some vids or just cuddle and talk, all at your discretion. You'll be able to feel her holding you close the entire time, keeping you warm and safe as she allows you to decide upon the topic of choice. Do you want to talk about Cube? The events of the day? How Soundwave is adopting every mini he gets his hands on? It all works for her, and you'll find she's a wonderfully devoted conversationalist.

·Once you're relaxed and ready to nod off, she'll take you to bed, but will insist on breaking out every pillow she owns to form an incredibly plush nest of sorts. Setting both of you up in the center, she'll encourage you to sleep in her arms, and she'll praise you as you fall asleep for the incredible job you did. Gentle kisses to your forehead and a careful massage of her digits over your shoulders will make staying awake simply impossible. For all her tough talk, you'll find her expression as you doze off full of total adoration.

Rodimus

·Our beloved Captain is very insistent on taking your time after anything remotely intense in the berth, so he'll encourage you to go as slow as you like and take as much time as you need. Tiny kisses all along your face and little whispered adorations will be non-stop the entire time, as you'll find him to be immensely sappy in the afterglow. If you want cuddles, he'll go above and beyond to snuggle you with all he's got, with particular attention paid to forehead nuzzles.

·He's got a ton of super soft and plush blankets on standby, and he'll take out all of them if you request it. At your behest he will happily swaddle you and relax for some more cuddling, and he's very big on watching some feel good movies while doing so. Just being extra soft and lovey is his go to for coming down after anything remotely intense. It's hard to be at all tense in his company when he's so focused on making you relaxed and happy.

·As a final bonus, he always keeps sweets around for extra pampering. They're small and not messy to ensure everything stays clean, but he is more than happy to unwrap them for you and pop them into your mouth. He'll even make sure to get your favorite flavor.

Drift

·The afterglow might just be his favorite part, because getting soft and tender and intimate is his favorite. He'll keep the lights low and sounds to a minimum, but he will have sweet scents from lightly scented candles in the room. He wants you to feel not just relaxed, but totally at ease in his arms. This means no lifting a finger as he reduces you to a contented and stress free pile of satisfied happiness.

·The primary method of his choosing is a bath, but it's nothing short of extraordinary. There are petals, candles, fancy soaps, and the whole thing is temperature controlled for maximum relaxation. You might just feel your eyes grow heavy as soon as he gets in with you. Sweet smelling soaps will wash you clean as he either talks softly or stays in comfortable silence at your request, and his careful hands will gently hold you close to him the entire time. When you're finished he has a few extra large and plush towels to wrap you in to dry.

·Before you doze off, his little ritual includes one final step for maximum relaxation. A careful massage will work out any lingering tension, and if you so desire he'll gladly use a bit of lotion to help his hands move more smoothly. He'll never mention where he picked up the skills, but frankly it feels far too good for you to care, as he's always able to work a kind of near magic by the time he's done. The last thing you'll hear before dozing off in total bliss is a whispered "I love you", and the last thing you'll feel is the soft warmth of blankets being lain over you in bed.

[cherryblossomtease]

Chapter 3

18 + only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

You’ve only left Madripoor a couple of times. Mostly it’s the cost of traveling that stops you from going overseas. You don’t need anything cutting into your “retirement” fund.

Amazing how quickly monetary problems can disappear when you’re involved with a very generous Baron.

“Would you like anything to eat before we arrive?” Zemo asks you. He’s got this sleepy sort of content smile on his face as he looks over from his seat facing yours on the plane, his plane to be exact.

“No, I’m fine thanks” You reply. You can feel your expression mimicking his, and why not. Its peaceful up here, alone with him above the clouds.

“You look exquisite in this light.” His tone is sort of teasing as he beats you to the punch because you always make fun of his erudite speech, but you can see that he really means it.

“I don’t think anyone could look bad flying past a sunrise.” You say dreamily, looking out at the fluffy white clouds and the colorful sky, the warm tones hinting at the oncoming day.

He agrees with a little laugh and looks out the window but his mood darkens like it tends to do without much warning. It’s not anger, is that—guilt?

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long.” He says slowly, his attention on you again. The last time he saw you did not go as planned. He’d met the car at the curb before you could even get out at his place and climbed into the backseat with you, telling Oezenik to head back across the bridge. He gave a very cryptic explanation as to why he had to cancel the weekend, something about being in a tight spot that involved his prison escape and whoever helped him do it. You still don’t know that that means, but you can vividly remember how it felt to stand at the top of your street, dreading going back to your apartment on a Friday for the first time in weeks. But it wasn’t just the disappointment. You’d been afraid for him. “Watch your back” You’d whispered to Zemo with that final kiss before you watched him go.

He’d been gone for days.

So when the text came a day early this week you must have sat there in your kitchen staring down at it for a solid minute before picking up your phone.

Would you like to take a trip with me?

You had no idea what to say, had someone stolen his phone? He had never, not once text you anything other than a confirmation of pick up time and certainly not on a Thursday.

Zemo?

Yes

A trip where?

I have business in New York

Yes!

You might have been a little hasty in agreeing to fly across the ocean, but how could you say no!

The car came for you early Friday morning and you’d been spoiled by Oeznik with mimosa’s and pastries and taken a long nap once the private jet reached cruising altitude. Now, you were sitting across from the Baron wondering where this was going…not the plane. The relationship.

Today is the first time he’s ever felt the need to apologize for anything.The gesture is kind but unnecessary.

“I told you, I understand. I know you have… a lot going on.” You have to work your way around your words with him sometimes. You do what you must to keep up with what the Baron does outside of your fantasy world with him, but you’re still unsure of letting him know that. After all, It’s his life away from you that keeps the relationship perfectly balanced. Theres no time for feelings to grow when he comes and goes so often, at least you keep saying it over and over as you try to keep your emotions under control, but fuck. Look at him.

The sunrise looks as good on Zemo as it does you. Bands of pale pink break through the small windows bringing out the lighter strands of his brown hair —especially that thick lock that falls out of place so perfectly, like an arrow that directs your gaze towards his eyes which glow with flecks of gold. He’s so easy look at it’s nearly impossible not to. The fact that he’s just as attentive and genuine as he was in the beginning only helps, or doesn’t. You can’t decide, but you take a deep breath, letting it out slowly with a smile as you feel your heart ignore your head yet again.

“You’re going to spoil me rotten once we land, aren’t you?” You ask grinning and focused on the fun ahead.

Zemo laughs and shrugs. “I might have a few things in mind.”

“You’re too good to me,” You say speaking of so much more than this trip alone. He’s been taking care of you so much so that these days work at the club is only needed to pay for luxuries you never considered before, and yet you’re still free to do as you please, Monday through Thursday.

“Hardly good enough.” He says, his voice deep but quiet. "But I will continue to try."

You swallow feeling a little nervous. You really can’t fall for him. This has to stay fun you tell yourself. This man comes with baggage. Scratch that— a Louis Vuitton full set and it’s packed with nothing but trouble.

But wouldn’t you risk it all for another day with him… No! Stop that!

“Are you feeling well?” He asks, catching you off guard. You’ve got to get better at hiding your thoughts. They show on your face like a silent film star when you’re not careful.

“Oh, I’m fine!” You smile trying your best to look it. “When do we land?”

“Soon.”

“Where are we staying? I would assume you can’t just go waltzing into a hotel?" He gives you a funny look but you just shake your head at him. “Don’t think that my being here means I’m ignorant to the things you’ve done. I may not know it all, but I know enough to keep myself safe”

“Safe from who?” He asks with a curious head tilt.

“People like you, without the heart” You say with your brow raised as you make him chuckle softly.

“You’ve been doing your research.” He nods waving a finger at you.

“Google is a hell of a thing. Plus, you forget, my dad was well loved. I can ask questions that other people can’t in spaces most aren’t allowed to go.”

“Ah, that’s right. Your father the fixer.”

You smile feeling proud. It may not be honest work off the island, but on that shitty little rock, you are the daughter of a very important man. He’s gone now, but Madripoor remembers, and if they forget your mother has a knife to their neck to see that they don’t.

“Well, for what it's worth, i promise to always keep you safe. No need to worry about that.”

“I don’t doubt it. I just like to know the plan so if it goes south I’m not left hanging”

“And when have I ever --left you hanging?” He seems insulted.

“You were gone for two… never mind. I’m not mad about it I’m really not Zemo.” He gives you a suspicious look and you smile. “I promise!”

“Sure.” He shrugs with a very unconvinced nod.

You just sigh and stare at him until he looks away. “I need to use the bathroom” You say realizing it. Those early a.m mimosa’s knocked you out for the first leg of the flight, and now you’re full to the brim.

He nods towards the back of the plane and you’re up and in the little bathroom.

It’s a quick trip, maybe a little faster than Zemo was expecting because when you open the door, you overhear him on the phone.

“This is me holding you to your end of the bargain. I need the name now. You see if they find me, they find you. Unless of course you want to come through on those promises and give me the name.”

Name? Is that why he’s going to New York? You know it’s business, but just how involved will it get?

“There.” He draws the word out with a smile. “That wasn’t so hard. Please, next time let’s skip the suspense. ” He says and listens. “Yes I have a way in. What time?” Another pause. “Formal I take it?” He laughs softly. “You always were the funny one. Until next time.” He says and hangs up.

You’re standing in the isle looking at the back of his head wondering what this is all about.

“Spying is not your strong suit.” He says glancing back.

You give a huff and walk over, standing next to him.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes” He says but he’s distracted.

“Zemo?”

“Yes. Everything is fine.”

“What was that call about?”

He looks up, his brow raised as he thinks, He wasn’t going to tell you at first, you can see that but then he sighs through his nose and lowers his chin thinking. “I need to change our plans tonight, I’m sorry. The reason for the trip has changed. There is an event I need to attend.”

“What sort?”

“The sort that requires a tie.” He mumbles.

All you hear is a reason to dress up and promptly swing your way down onto his lap making him start. “Let me go with you.” You say making sure to look at him with your eyes as big and innocent as your can pretend to be.

“No. Absolutely not.”

You pout just a little. Not enough to be obnoxious, but he can’t resist this face. No one can. “I won’t get in the way.” You say sweetly.

“It’s too dangerous.” He says rubbing your leg. You've almost got him, just a quick whine as you put your arms around his shoulders. “Please.”

Zemo laughs and shakes his head. “Stop that.”

“Zemo… I think you’re forgetting. I may be yours, and I may follow your rules. But I’m a product of Madripoor. You never know when having a girl like me at your back might come in handy.”Zemo rests his chin in his hand, stroking his lips with his finger as he thinks it over. You don’t mind waiting. You like the way it feels sitting on his lap and asking pretty please, so you turn it up a little. “If, I do anything. Anything at all that breaks your rules… you know I’ll gladly accept my punishment” You tell him softly, stroking the shorter hair at the back of his head.

He leans away to look you in the eyes and sees the truth in them. You can talk to him as sweet as sugar but you're not afraid to face danger and he knows it. The way he lowers his hand and gives in with a sigh and a smile as he rubs your thigh makes it clear, Zemo likes this  just as much a you do.

“You’re going to need a new dress” He says and you grin kissing him, never breaking your smile.

[elizabeethan]

Watch the Sunlight Fade: 7 / 17

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: We’re getting there! In this chapter we have hints, friends. Let me know what you think!!

Rated M

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~~~~

Killian’s intention was not to sleep with Emma Swan. His intention was to lift her from the couch, gently and easily as he’s done before, and carry her to bed, leaving her to sleep peacefully. He intended to leave her in his room, tucked in and comfortable, and then sleep in his guestroom, listening for signs of nightmares. 

 He did not intend to sleep beside Emma Swan. When she clung to the collar of his shirt, sleeping as he carried her to bed, he intended to uncurl her fingers, perhaps place a gentle kiss to her forehead, and leave her in the privacy of his bedroom. He did not intend to let her look of sleepy desperation-- of a quiet, hopeless need to be held-- sway him when she pulled him close to her, refusing to let him leave. He did not intend to give in to her so easily, curling up behind her and letting her nestle herself against his front. He didn’t intend for her to fall asleep so effortlessly, and to sleep so soundly through the night as he held her close to him. 

 He didn’t intend for any of this to happen, but when he wakes with the sun and feels her warmth pressed against him, he can’t say he minds. 

 The battle that has plagued him internally since the moment he laid eyes on her rages on with her soft, contented sigh, and he wonders what she must be thinking. He wonders what the few moments of gentle peace before she wakes must be like for her. How it must feel to be tricked so easily into feelings of safety in the arms of another, only to wake and be faced with the painful reality that, to the man who is supposed to love her, she is nothing more than a means to an end. It kills him to not know what the end could be. 

 She stirs, and he knows that the bliss he felt when he first woke is set to fade as reality sets in for her. When she nuzzles her cheek against his bicep, the one attached to his tingling hand, he knows she must still be trapped in a dream, thinking herself cuddling closer to her doting boyfriend. He would give anything for that to be true for her. 

With another gentle sigh, she wiggles a bit, her rear unfortunately enticing to his body despite his mind’s commands. “Good morning,” she says softly, her tone relaxed and, he thinks, almost playful. 

 He can’t help but to laugh just a bit, the sound forced out of his nostrils and blowing a lock of her hair off of her neck. “Good morning to you, too.”

 She hums, making no moves to get up despite the morning sun rising higher in the sky. Their time together is running out; Neal is due to be home today, and if she isn’t home when he arrives, he’s certain there will be hell to pay. 

 “Feels weird,” she remarks suddenly, her voice still quiet but more serious. 

 “What’s that, love?”

 “Being…” she shrugs. “Feeling comfortable, I guess. Safe. Even before all of this, I had to force myself to relax with Neal.”

 “And now?” he asks, his hand inadvertently sliding up the curve of her hip over her soft t-shirt. 

 She’s quiet for a moment before speaking up again. “It’s easy,” she sighs. “I know my life is going to shit, but I’ve never… I’ve never felt this relaxed.”

 He should’ve stopped himself from pressing a soft but firm kiss to the back of her neck, but he couldn’t if he tried. “I’m sure that’s not true,” he tries, but she shakes her head immediately. “No? Not even a happy childhood memory?”

 She stays quiet for far too long, hinting to him that he’s said the wrong thing. He barely knows her; he certainly doesn’t know enough to make assumptions about her childhood. She confirms this when she finally murmurs, “I’m not sure you know who you’re talking to.” Her tone is light, as if she’s trying to make a joke of it, but he can hear the pain laced through her words.

 “Perhaps I don’t,” he challenges boldly, voice strong and almost too powerful in the soft morning silence. “But I’d love to hear more about your beginnings.”

 Her stillness makes the blood sing through his veins, hot and painful in response to his anxiety, until she rolls over onto her other side, sliding away from him just enough so that she can look into his eyes. “You really mean that,” she says. It isn’t a question, more like a clarification. A statement used to prove the thought to herself in her own mind. He nods, wanting to drop his hand onto her cheek but holding back. 

 “Of course.”

 She closes her eyes, shying away from him, hiding the shining beams of light from his gaze for a moment before she opens them again and gives him a small smile. “I’m an orphan,” she whispers. Her wording takes him by surprise. She’s an adult, he overheard Neal telling Peter that she’s 25, but she still considers herself an orphan even now. “My parents… I don’t know. They abandoned me. I don’t know who they are. I spent years trying to find them and I never did.”

 “So you…” He sighs, biting his lip without meaning to mirror her. His hand is twitching at his side to touch her, to reach out and comfort her. “You spent some time in foster care, then?”

 “Care,” she scoffs. “I guess you can say that. I ran away a lot.”

 “Aye,” he nods. “If not for Liam, I’m sure I would’ve as well.”

 She looks at him so pleadingly, so deeply, her brows drawn tight together and her forest green eyes glowing in the light of the rising sun. “You were in foster care, too?”

 “I was,” he whispers. This time, he can’t stop himself from letting his fingers slide along the soft skin of her temple, brushing her hair away. He feels her relaxing into his touch, leaning into his hand and letting her eyes slip shut. “For a brief time, before Liam found our father. He was here with Gold; died shortly after we found him, but Liam had turned 18 so we stuck around with the club.” 

 Her eyes snap open, something he’d said alerting her senses. “You’ve been with them for a while then?”

 “About fifteen years now,” he confirms. 

 “So do you… I mean, they cared for you. You must have some kind of loyalty to them.”

 “No,” he answers immediately. “Fifteen years is a long time. Long enough for me to see the violent corruption that Peter and Neal seem to thrive on. They learned it from Gold, they tried to teach it to me, but Liam taught me the importance of good form.”

 Her movements are quick, and he can barely keep up as she scoots close to him and drops her head so that it’s resting against his chest, just below his chin. He doesn’t think before wrapping both arms around her, securing his hold on her and burying his head in her hair. It smells fruity and floral, and he doesn’t think he’ll get enough. 

 “I always thought I was good at reading people, with the exception of Neal,” she says, laughing softly. “And with you… I mean… I trust you, Killian.” 

 The relief that washes over him is nearly unbelievable, his desire to be here for her, to help her, too consuming. The confirmation that she trusts him steadies his heartbeat, calms his mind, soothes his soul. 

 “Emma,” he breathes, and at the sound of his voice, she pulls back and meets his eyes with her. “I promise I’ll get you out of this. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

 “I know,” she whispers. Her words wash warm air over his mouth and remind him just how close they are. He considers closing the gap between them when he sees her eyes fluttering, desperate to make her feel the same intensity that he feels. He craves the softness of her skin against his. He wants her. He thinks he may need her. Her eyes close and he watches her lips fall open just the slightest amount, her breathing evening out at the anticipation of his lips meeting hers. 

 But reality creeps back into the forefront of his mind, the danger that she’s in sure to increase if they should ever be found out. The half-confirmation that perhaps she wants him in the same way that he wants her is almost enough to hold him over. He’ll never put his own desires ahead of her safety, and he needs her to know that. 

 So he places his palm on her cheek and runs his thumb along the soft skin under her eye, thinking back to last night when her cheeks were tear and sweat stained after hours of emotional torment. “He’ll be back soon,” he finally whispers, and the way her face falls pains him. “I’m sorry,” he says, unsure why. 

 She opens her eyes and meets his gaze, seeming to understand as she takes a breath and nods. “Don’t be,” she smiles. “Thank you.”

 “For what?” he asks, unable to fathom what she could possibly be thanking him for. All he did was tell her of his past and nearly kiss her despite her being in a relationship. 

 “Everything,” she answers easily. “I’d be broken if you hadn’t come out and gotten me last night.”

 “I’ll always be here for you,” he vows, his palm cupping her cheek without having the excuse of moving her hair out of the way. 

 “I’m scared,” she whispers. Her voice is weak and small, barely audible over the sounds coming in from the open window. “When he gets home, he’s gonna want… I don’t want to…”

 “Emma,” he breathes, shaking his head. He’s horrified that they even need to have this conversation, but at the same time, he isn’t surprised. Growing up beside Cassidy, only a few years older than him, he knows how he was raised. The man has expectations of her, and that was made clear to Killian the other day when he dropped everything and barely had her hesitant consent before dragging her back to his bed. It’s wrong for him to have to offer her a way out of sleeping with him. She should be able to say no, she’s not in the mood, and that should be enough. But he knows that isn’t the case; he knows what will happen if she refuses. “Perhaps if you say you’re sick,” he finally offers.

 “Yeah,” she agrees, then smiles genuinely at him and says, “I mean, I did throw up last night. I guess I’m not totally lying.”

 “Aye,” he grins, although it feels wrong to do so. “You’ll be alright. I’m not sure why, but for better or for worse, Neal needs you for something. He won’t harm you.”

 She sighs and drops her head back onto his chest, the weight of it comforting with each rise and fall of his lungs. “I wish I knew why,” she says softly into his shirt. “I mean, I'm nothing special. Why would he want me, of all people, to be here?” 

 A twinge of anger sparks within him again at her words, at her genuine belief that she’s nothing special. It reaffirms for him that she’s grown up all her life alone, believing that no one could possibly want her. That she couldn’t possibly mean anything to anyone. That the only person she thinks she means something to is an abusive, manipulative monster. It can’t be true, he wants to tell her. It isn’t true. He wants to assure her that, despite hardly knowing her, she means the world to him. But the last thing he wants to do is to scare her off, the prospect of helping her out of this with her comfort and autonomy in tact too important to pass up. He can’t put his own feelings above her. 

 “I wish you didn’t think like that,” he finally says, letting his hand find the back of her hair again. “You are special. You just don’t deserve whatever it is he has planned for you. You deserve to be happy and safe.” 

 When she shakes her head again, he vows silently, daring not to scare her with his sincerity, that he’ll spend every day for the rest of his life proving to her that she means something. 

 ~~~~

 Emma finds herself being very meticulous about her position in the apartment in preparation for Neal’s return. Killian’s suggestion that she fake an ailment was a good one, but now she has to make it believable enough to turn him off. 

 She has whiplash from the last few weeks, but from the last day especially. She can hardly believe that she’s in this position in the first place, the fact that she’s found herself suddenly thrown into the role of a gang member’s girlfriend utterly fantastical. A part of her still thinks this is a dream, and if she pinches herself hard enough, she’ll wake up in the arms of her loving boyfriend once again. 

 Truthfully, she can’t believe that she never noticed. The fact that he was able to trick her so believably, that he got around her firm defenses and her lie detector well enough to sneak into her life, is almost too painful to consider. How could he manipulate her so easily? Is she really that weak? It’s easier to rely on the belief that this is a horrible nightmare and that she’ll soon wake up and her life will go back to normal. It’s not like her life was anything special before, but at least she was living in blissful ignorance to the horrors she now faces. 

 Neal is not the man she thought he was, that much is definitive by now. Finding out that he’s the brother of the leader of The Lost Boys was a blow so detrimental to her that she almost broke. If Killian wasn’t there to pick up the pieces and glue her back together, she’s certain that she would still be a crumbling mess on the hallway floor. 

 The helpfulness of his presence is something that she will never be able to put into words. The fact that he was there for her when she needed him, when she needed to be held together and soothed and cared for, the fact that he knew just what she needed in that moment, is something she can never hope to repay. 

 She feels silly thinking like this, when just the other day she was promising herself that she would try harder with Neal. It’s as if the second she found out about his nefarious intentions, she forgot about him. The way she feels when she’s with Killian makes her fear the way she felt when she was with Neal. Everytime she and Neal were together, she had to force herself to relax, to calm down enough to enjoy his presence. She told herself that it was normal for her to feel that way, that the way she was raised predisposed her to feelings of discomfort in the presence of others. But when she curled up in Killian’s arms last night, it was the most natural thing in the world. It was like there was nowhere else she was meant to be. Like being with him is exactly where she needed to be in that moment. Now, thinking back to the way it felt to be held by him, she wants nothing more than to be back in his arms. 

 The anxious nausea returns when she hears his keys jamming into the lock, turning it slowly as the sickening anticipation increases. She takes a deep breath, settling herself into the couch and easily putting on her best sick face as he pushes the door open. She’s met with a wide, leering smile that makes her stomach churn more. 

 “Hey, baby,” he calls as he shuts the door, dropping his bag to the floor in a way that makes her wonder if he expects her to unpack it. It’s as if her sudden realization of his true intentions was a bucket of cold water being thrown over her head, and now she can see him for who he truly is. Each of his actions are selfish, his expectations of her entirely misogynistic and manipulative. 

 “Hi,” she says with a purposely weakened smile, her voice small. “Good trip?” 

 “Pretty good,” he confirms, walking towards the kitchen and retrieving a beer despite it being before noon. “We’ll probably have to go out again soon, but I'll stick around for a while.” 

 “That’s good,” she agrees, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders and nestling into the couch cushions. Despite her stress, she found that she slept better than ever last night, so it’s more work than she expected to pull off a look of exhaustion. “What do you do when you go?” she asks, hoping to get a bit of information out of him. 

 “Oh, this and that. Nothing you need to worry about.” She fights off the temptation to roll her eyes as he sits on the couch, narrowly missing her feet and seeming not to notice. “What are you doing?” 

 She shrugs. “I don't feel that good,” she explains. “I’ve been nauseous since last night.” 

 “You have?” he asks, his interest seeming to be piqued.

 “Yeah,” she nods weakly, shutting her eyes. “I even threw up last night.” 

 “Gross,” he says immediately, and her mind runs back to the image of Killian holding her hair for her. He cocks his head to the side in thought and says, “Huh.” 

 “What?” 

 “Nothing,” he shakes his head, taking another draw from his can. “Just interesting, that’s all.” 

 She laughs, the sound likely not entirely believable. “Interesting or gross?”  

 Neal turns to her, his eyes suddenly dark and hooded, his grip on his can obviously tightening. He shifts in his seat, turning his body so that his shirt rides up slightly, exposing the handle of his gun to her line of sight. “Does it matter?” 

 “No,” she replies quietly, her eyes meeting his in undeniable terror. She doesn’t have to work at making her voice sound small and timid; it happens naturally. “Sorry,” she says without thinking. 

 She notices that, in the time that he was gone, she felt a sense of strength. Having Killian reiterate to her that what she’s experiencing isn’t normal, isn’t acceptable, has put her in the mindset that she’s strong enough to get out of this. But with a single motion, a few short words, she's back under Neal’s thumb with no chance of escape. 

 “Great,” he smiles, his demeanor shifting back as he leans back into the couch. “We’re going out tonight. The Rabbit Hole.”

 She wants to argue, to remind him that she just told him she isn’t feeling well, but she fears his response and simply nods. “Okay,” she says softly, feeling like less than nothing to him. It isn’t the fact that she doesn’t feel well, because that’s not entirely true. Her nausea is a result of her stress. What bothers her is his willingness to ignore her claims. His ability to forget so easily. 

 She means nothing to him. 

 ~~~~

 The Rabbit Hole is busier than usual, and it occurs to Killian that Peter didn’t bother to enforce it’s closure this evening. The realization makes him wonder about the last time, the night that Emma was brought here and victimized for the first time. It makes him wonder about the disconnect in Peter’s mind that made him want to celebrate such an event. 

 Tonight, he sees several familiar faces. There’s Scarlett, who was drunk and tried to steal Rufio’s bike one night, earning himself an entirely unwanted role in the club working off his crime. There’s also Tink, Olivia, who got herself into a lifestyle in which she’s never been truly comfortable out of sheer desperation and poverty. There’s William Smee, who boasts an ability to allocate anything the club desires, if only to keep him safe from their rivals. 

 The bar is filled with people who are here because they have to be, having little choice in the matter. Each of them agreed to be here, agreed to Peter’s terms, but none of them have any way out. 

 There’s a pair of arms wrapping around his shoulders from behind, pulling him into a hug, and he knows exactly who it is without having to turn. A smile creeps across his mouth when she squeezes more firmly and then spins his chair, turning him to face her and giving him a bright smile. 

 “Evening, love,” he mumbles softly, giving her a gentle smile. 

 “Evening, KJ,” she returns. Elsa moves beside him and takes the stool to his left, holding up a hand to signal to the bartender that she’s ready to order. “Having a good night?”

 “Sure,” he shrugs, turning back to his drink. 

 With a snort, she shakes her head and shoves her shoulder against his. “What’s wrong?”

 “What makes you think something’s wrong?” 

 “You’re brooding. More ferociously than usual.”

 “I don’t brood,” he grumbles into his rum, taking a drag from it. 

 “Yeah,” she scoffs, “and I’m a natural blonde. Is this about your girlfriend?”

 He turns suddenly, staring her down and raising a brow. “I don’t have a bloody girlfriend.” 

 “Mhmm,” she hums sweetly. “A winter sangria, please,” she orders, and Killian rolls his eyes. 

 “It’s still summer, El.”

 “I know what I like. Now, talk to me. Emma’s been staring at you all night.”

 “No she hasn’t,” he argues into his glass. At least, he hopes she hasn’t. It wouldn’t be safe for her to be staring… 

 “Killian, please.”

 “She’s--” he starts in a moment of boldness, wanting to retreat almost immediately as he realizes where he is. He leans a bit closer to Elsa and practically whispers, “I think she’s in danger.”

 “Killian, they’re keeping her safe! As Neal’s girlfriend--”

 “She’s in danger from Neal. She had no idea… Elsa, she found out last night that he’s Peter's brother. She thought he was some lackey until Gold told her otherwise.”

 “Why would that mean she’s in danger?” she asks, accepting her drink before shifting back to her serious demeanor. 

 “Why would he lie? What could he want from her that he doesn’t think he could get if he were truthful?”

 “KJ…”

 “He told her they would leave. He said he would move them to Florida to live happily ever after. You know that’s not what that bastard has planned.”

 “Watch your tongue. Are you sure you’re not just looking for another reason to hate him like you do everyone?”

 “Who said I hate him?” 

 She lets out a groan, dramatically throwing her head back before taking a sip of her drink and then glaring at him. “I’m not sure what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, but you’ve got to cut it out. For better or worse, Emma is Neal’s, and you know that he’ll make sure you know that. Him and his brother. They’re in charge; they keep us safe, and all we owe in return is our loyalty.” 

 She’s right, of course, although perhaps not in the way she means. They are mad enough to go to extremes for arguably unwarranted reasons. If Liam diplomatically disagreeing with them was cause enough for his death in their eyes, he doesn’t want to imagine what would happen if they found out about him and Emma. 

 Not that there’s anything going on between them, of course. Despite his feelings for her, he isn’t daft enough to think that they’re being reciprocated. She simply needed comfort and he was available and willing to give it. She needs someone to care for her, someone who understands her and what she’s going through, and when all of this is over and she’s away from this abuse, she can move on like none of this ever happened. It’ll be like they never met, and if that’s what’s best for her, then so be it. 

 Still, the fact that she slept in his bed, in his arms, just last night is dangerous. If that information were to reach the wrong set of ears, he knows it’ll mean bad news for Emma. 

 “Alright,” he finally grumbles. Although he trusts Elsa, knows that she wouldn’t do anything that would mean trouble for him, he suddenly gets the feeling that she doesn’t understand what he’s going through afterall. Her phrasing is startling, and he’s starting to realize that it’s not the first time she’s spoken like this. She doesn’t know the extent of what happened to Liam, but she’s aligned to the club very faithfully. He was certain that their shared experience, their shared loss, would mean her unconditional empathy, but he can see now that that isn’t necessarily the case. 

 He fears that he-- and as a result, Emma-- may be more alone than he originally thought.

~~~~

~~~~

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[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Redemption Never Came

Prompt: was rereading Tactical Retreat and I think it may just be time for that *conversation* with patton. he must have some kind of perspective here! I love your writing so much like you are an icon when it comes to writing- like you've taught me so much! <3!!

Thank you for the req! Also: 

it is CHECK POINT TIME MY DUDES~

unclench your jaw roll them shoulders back drink something go to the bathroom eat something look away from the screen for three goddamn CONSECUTIVE seconds

okay cool now you may proceed love you very much

Read on Ao3

Warnings: discussion of self-harm, nothing explicit

Pairings: focus on royality, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic I don’t care

Word Count: 4690

Redemption: the act of redeeming or the condition of having been redeemed.

Redemption: deliverance.

* * *

Roman and Patton talk.

“Pat, let’s go get L something to drink.”

 “But—I—“

 “It’s too much for him, Pat,” Virgil says softly, “with all of us here, he’s getting overwhelmed. Let’s go and then we’ll come back, yeah?”

 “O-okay.”

 Patton grips the counter as Virgil opens the cupboard. His glasses threaten to slide off the end of his nose. He can’t let go. He’ll fall.

 “Pop Star?” Virgil’s hand appears on his shoulder. “Pop Star, breathe, come on.”

 He manages to swallow, ducking his head to try and follow Virgil’s instructions. The hand stays on his shoulder, rubbing slow circles.

 “That’s it, Pop Star, just breathe, you’re okay.”

 Something twists in his chest.

 “I know,” Patton grinds out, “I know I’m okay.”

 Logan is the one who isn’t okay right now. And that—is that his fault too?

 “Hey, uh uh.”

 Patton frowns, looking up as Virgil tugs on his sleeve. Virgil’s brow is furrowed as he stares down at him.

 “Don’t do that,” Virgil chides gently, “don’t blame yourself for this.”

 “But I didn’t notice—“

 “Neither did the rest of us,” Virgil breaks in, forcing the glass into Patton’s hand so he can fill it up, “except for Remus. And Remus took a long time too.”

 Patton’s tongue swells.

 “It’s not on you,” comes more reassurance, and doesn’t it feel weird, “we’re all to blame here.”

 “We should’ve known,” he mutters, focusing on not spilling the water all over the kitchen.

 “Maybe. But we didn’t. And we can’t change that. We just gotta focus on what we can do now.”

 “I know that,” Patton grumbles, “I’ve said that to you guys more times than I can count, why—why am I struggling with this?”

 “You just found out that someone very close to you is hurting themselves,” Virgil says, “you’re upset.”

 “I know that too!”

 “Uh-huh, then you know that it makes sense that you’re not processing things as easily as you normally would.”

 He knows that too. Patton sighs and scrubs a hand over his face, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

 “He ate some at dinner, he should be alright, let’s just get him the water.”

 “Great.” Virgil glances around. “We should probably get, uh…other stuff too.”

 Right.

 Right.

 Before they can leave, however, Janus and Remus appear, dark looks on their faces. Patton’s heart sinks.

 “What’s wrong? Do we need the first aid kit?”

 “He’s got one in his room, doesn’t he?”

 Janus nods. But he’s not looking at either of them. Patton frowns, looking over at Remus, who looks about two seconds from smashing apart the fridge.

 “…kiddos?”

 Remus snarls.

 Virgil strides forward and takes Remus under one arm, bending close to mutter in his ear. As Patton watches, some of the tension goes out of Remus’s shoulders and he lets out a slow breath. He turns to Janus.

 “Is Roman still…with him?”

 Janus nods sharply. Something twists his mouth.

 “Janus, what happened?”

 “Roman is taking care of him,” Janus says quietly, his voice even, “we’re…here to check on you two.”

 Patton frowns. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

 “Correct.”

 “…so tell me?”

 Janus glances up at Remus. Remus turns away from Virgil, obviously just having been asked a similar question, and shakes his head firmly. Janus looks back at Patton apologetically.

 “Not mine to tell.”

 “Remus?”

 “No.”

 The dark weight in Patton’s chest expands. Only when Janus calls his name quietly does he realize he’s trying valiantly to break the glass in his hands. He sets it quickly down on the counter and wraps his arms around himself.

 “Sorry.”

 “You’re upset,” Janus mumbles, “we all are.”

 “So what’s going on?”

 Janus sighs. “Our resident nerd appears to be…trapping himself in logical paradoxes and attempting to resolve them in…unique ways.”

 “Let’s never call it that again,” Virgil growls. Janus nods in agreement. “What do we do?”

 “I don’t know.”

 “Lie.” Virgil scoffs when Janus looks up at him incredulously. “Come on, dude, I lived with you.”

 “I’m not going to tell you.”

 “Why the fuck not?”

 “Because it’s not my secret to tell,” Janus snaps, wincing at himself a moment later. Virgil waves him off. “Logan deserves that privacy.”

 “Yeah, ‘cause you two were so concerned about privacy like…half an hour ago.”

 “Yes, and that couldn’t be because the priorities of that situation were entirely different.”

 “Enough,” Patton says firmly. “This is the opposite of what we should be doing right now.”

 He picks up the glass of water.

 “Virgil, where are the weighted blankets?”

 “In the hall closet. I can—“

 “I’ll come with you.”

 Janus follows Virgil back up the stairs. Patton takes another deep breath and looks over at Remus. Remus doesn’t meet his gaze.

 “...Remus?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Come with me back to Logan’s room?”

 “Sure.” Remus follows a few steps behind. Patton can feel his gaze almost boring through his back. “Don’t spill the water.”

 “I won’t.”

 They arrive at the door and wait, listening for Janus and Virgil down the hall. Patton turns to see if they could be coming the other way only for Remus’s piercing stare to freeze him.

 “What?”

 Remus tilts his head and remains silent.

 “Remus, what are you doing? Is there something—what’s wrong?”

 “I’m trying to figure something out,” Remus says and the softness of his voice sends a chill down Patton’s spine, “and what I should do about it.”

 Patton swallows. “Remus, whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

 “Hmm.”

 Before Patton can answer whatever just happened, Janus and Virgil appear, carrying the weighted blankets. Patton spares one more look at Remus before reaching out to gently knock on the door.

 It’s a little bit of a blur after that. They walk in to see Roman cupping Logan’s face in his hands, having changed him into a soft shirt and bandaging his legs. Patton crouches down to help Logan drink and wraps him up in a protective cuddle as soon as Logan says it’s okay.

 They sit there like that for a while, long enough for both of Patton’s legs to fall asleep and not long enough for the ache in his chest to dull. Logan’s sobs trail off into Roman’s shoulder as he strokes his hand through his hair, still murmuring softly. He’s not sure when he gets the courage to reach and gently ask Logan if he can take his glasses off, but if the sleepy way Logan butts his head against his hand, it’s been a while. Poor Logan is exhausted, all but falling asleep on Roman. They get him into bed slowly, bit by bit, leaving just as gradually. Roman is the last one to leave, shutting the door quietly behind him.

 Patton makes his way to his room and goes through his getting-ready-for-bed process on autopilot. His walls are grayer than normal, the sun long since set, leaving the room dark and muted. He climbs beneath the covers, sets his glasses on the nightstand, and turns off the lamp.

 The dark feeling from earlier finally makes it to his head.

 How did he never notice?

 It’s not like Logan was a master at hiding the fact that he has feelings, surely the amount of times his voice softens when addressing them is proof enough on its own. And surely they all knew that he denies it so often that it’s not a question of how he feels about that.

 So why did he never notice that it wouldn’t be hard for Logan to decide that he needed to get rid of them, at any cost?

 He turns over in bed, burying his face in a pillow.

 Is that why Remus was mad?

 Remus being mad at him is not a comfortable situation. Remus is so uncaring about so many things—not that the kiddo doesn’t care! He absolutely cares about some things, his work, the others, Roman, goodness, so much—but when it comes to emotions and responses and good versus bad, well, Remus’s standpoint is normally…no.

 So why is Remus mad? Because he wasn’t doing his job and taking care of Logan? Well, Patton’s mad at himself for that too, but…

 He frowns, turning back over and staring at a spot on the wall.

 That doesn’t feel like that’s why Remus is mad. If Remus were mad at him for not taking care of Logan, he wouldn’t have hesitated to call him out on it. He would’ve cussed him out right there in the kitchen, not caring about what Virgil or Janus would’ve said. It would’ve been much harder for Virgil to calm him down—presumably, even though Virgil is very good at his job—and that certainly wouldn’t explain why Janus was acting strange, too.

 Janus is keeping something from him. Nothing new there, but this…this is different. He can feel it. Normally Janus would deny that he was hiding a secret, but he insisted that it wasn’t his to tell and…seemed to look to Remus to get that confirmation?

 Oh.

 Oh.

 Oh, no.

 Roman.

 Something’s wrong with Roman.

 Patton’s chest grows cold and he hunches over his blankets, eyes going wide.

 Roman is so good at helping. Roman is so good at helping. Patton can’t remember the number of times he’s walked in on Roman helping one of the others or Roman walking in on him helping someone else and immediately offering to help too. Letting Roman help Logan was the right choice, especially when Patton was already too upset to be useful. But…but…

 If Remus and Janus came downstairs to ‘check up on’ him and Virgil, something must’ve happened, and Roman—oh, Roman—

 Patton frowns.

 Logan is hurt. Very, very badly. Roman is helping him. But now…is Roman hurt too?

 What happened to Roman?

 Patton shuts his eyes and buries his face in the blankets again, trying valiantly to suppress a whine.

 Logan is hurt and they need to take care of him and they know that the only way they’re going to help Logan is if he tells them what he needs.

 Logan is talking to Roman and Janus and Remus. That’s good. Maybe he’ll talk to Patton too, then they could all help.

 But with Roman…

 Patton doesn’t know what’s going on. He goes to sleep and wakes up and still doesn’t know.

 He knows how to help Logan. Logan talks to them and tells them things now, or he’ll come seek them out, after that night, just to sit and be and make sure he’s not left alone in his room. He sits down with Patton one day and explains what’s been happening. Patton wells up, because of course, he’ll help, nothing’s wrong with Logan, he’s doing wonderfully, and yes, he can always come get reassurances if he needs them.

 That’s what Logan needs from Patton.

 He doesn’t know what Roman needs.

 At least…not until Remus knocks on his door and asks him to come to the Imagination.

 There’s a house. A very simple house. Remus knocks on the door and Roman’s voice calls from inside. Remus pushes open the door and ushers Patton inside.

 Roman sits at the table and stands when Patton walks in. He smiles softly and nods to Remus in thanks. Remus nods back, gives Patton a look that says he’s not going very far, and shuts the door behind him.

 “Hey, Padre,” Roman says softly, “come sit?”

 Patton sits. Roman doesn’t meet his eyes, staring at a spot on the floor. Patton swallows.

 “Roman?”

 “Hmm?”

 “Are you…okay?”

 Roman laughs under his breath. “No, Patton, I’m not.”

 Patton knew the answer to that. It still hurt.

 “Can I help?”

 “I don’t know.” Roman finally looks up at him and the second he does part of Patton wishes he’d look away again. “But I need to talk to you about that.”

 “M-me?”

 “Yeah, Patton. You—“ Roman sighs— “you and I have a lot to talk about, I think.”

 Oh. It’s this conversation.

 “Yeah,” Roman murmurs, “are you—do you think you can have it now?”

 Does he?

 “…yeah,” Patton says after a moment, “yeah, I’m ready.”

 “Good.”

 Patton sits up a little taller in the chair and folds his hands in his lap. Roman catches it and a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

 “You don’t have to do that, Patton.”

 Patton tilts his head. “What?”

 Roman waves a hand at him. “That. Sit up straight like I’m about to tell you off.”

 “…aren’t you?”

 “No. And even if I was, you don’t have to do that.” Something darker flitters across his expression. “Learned that recently.”

 Memories of every time Roman’s stood up taller when someone is talking to him flash across Patton’s mind. Something in his gut twists. But he makes an effort to speak anyway.

 “But you…” he swallows, “you’re in charge right now.”

 “I don’t want to be.” Roman holds up a hand to stop him. “That doesn’t mean you have to be in charge either. This is a conversation, Patton, at least it has to be if we’re going to do anything, which means equal footing. No one’s in charge, no one has more power than anyone else.”

 Oh. Okay. Patton takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, making an effort to relax into the chair.

 “Thank you.”

 Silence. Roman’s back to staring at the ground. Something’s coming. Something big is coming and Patton doesn’t know if he can handle what it is.

 As it turns out, he was right.

 “I self harm too.”

 A thunderclap. Patton’s breath catches in his throat and he only knows he’s gasped by the way his throat hurts.

 “Oh, kiddo, I’m—“

 “Don’t,” Roman says softly, too soft, why does he sound this calm right now?— “let me finish, please.”

 Patton slams his mouth shut. Roman doesn’t look up at him.

 “I self-harm for a different reason than Logan does,” he continues, “but we both do it because we think it’s right.”

 His gut twists again.

 “I’m Thomas’s hopes and dreams,” Roman continues, “I’m his Ego. I want what he wants and I’m supposed to help him get it.”

 One of Roman’s hands twitches.

 “But my wants aren’t important. Thomas’s wants are important. I’m supposed to be happy with what Thomas wants—with wanting what Thomas wants—and what I want doesn’t make Thomas happy.”

 He closes his eyes and takes a breath.

 “What Thomas wants—what the rest of you want—is for me to play the role. I am the Ego, I am arrogant, I am cocky, I am loud, I am annoying. I am soft enough to cave to your demands and to be poked and prodded in the right direction until I finally do what Thomas wants. I’m not supposed to want for myself, I’m supposed to want for Thomas, and when I don’t—“

 He cuts himself off. Swallows heavily. Opens his mouth again.

 “When I don’t, I am rejected. I am only wanted if I can produce work good enough for Thomas, if I act right, if I want what Thomas wants. To do that, I have to play the role. I have to feel the things I need to feel to do the work. A-and to do that, I need to…” he swallows again, “remind myself.”

 Somewhere, far away, something crows.

 “There’s no sainthood in satisfaction. Selfless is safe. Whenever I want something, I’m supposed to give it up to make Thomas happy. That’s what’s important. That’s why I do it.”

 Patton feels sick.

 Not just because what Roman is saying is enough to tear his heart out and leave him a sobbing, broken mess, but because he knows where most of it came from.

 “R-Roman,” he manages when Roman comes to the end of his speech, “oh, Roman, I’m so—I’m so sorry.”

 Roman huffs a laugh. “I know you are, Patton.”

 No. No, no, no, he remembers that tone of voice. Remembers Roman sinking out a moment later, his face as horribly resigned as it is now.

 Remembers the question he asked Janus at the end of that awful, awful day.

 “Do you think there's a limit on how many times someone can say sorry before you have to admit that they're just bad for you?”

 Roman huffs again. “I don’t think I’m the best person to ask to judge when someone’s bad for you.”

 Oh.

 The thing in Patton’s gut twists again.

 “What can I do,” he mumbles, “what do I do to make this better?”

 “I don’t know.”

 “You can tell me,” he pleads, “tell me what to do and I’ll—“

 “No.”

 “But, Roman—“

 “No, Patton,” Roman says again, “I can’t tell you what to do. One because I don’t know what would make this better, and two—“

 He cuts himself off as he scrubs his hands over his face.

 “Two, because I know what will happen if I try.”

 “…what?”

 “I’ll give in. Because I always give in,” he mutters sardonically, “because seeing you upset hurts, more than pretty much anything else, and it doesn’t matter what I have to do to make you stop hurting.”

 Patton’s chest throbs.

 “So I can’t tell you what to do,” Roman finishes, “because it’ll be a lie.”

 And Patton knows he’s right.

 Because the sight of Roman, right now, is enough to make him want to cave to just about anything to see him be alright again.

 “..can I hug you?”

 “No,” Roman whispers, “for the same reason.”

 Patton aches.

 “Why—“ he swallows and tries again— “why can’t we do this? Why can’t we help each other?”

 “Because we care too much,” Roman says softly, “we care too much about each other and too little about ourselves.”

 Something in his tone darkens.

 “…or at least we think we do.”

 Cold. Patton is cold now. Colder than ice. It burns.

 “God, Patton, do you even know how much I’ve sacrificed for you?”

 Roman’s anger, sudden and fiery, burns straight into Patton’s chest, muting him as Roman’s fist tightens in his lap. His glare threatens to scorch a hole in the floor.

 “I gave up everything for you, just to make you happy, I gave up the callback, I gave up my songs, I gave up my entire worldview for you, and you—you—“

 He jams his knuckle into his mouth for a moment and bites. Hard.

 Patton can’t even make a noise of protest.

 “I was never good enough for you, Patton,” Roman says after a moment, “there was always something else I needed to fix, something else I was doing wrong, something else I had to apologize for. And then you just stood there. After everything I’d ever done for you, you didn’t even stand up for me. You just looked at me like I should’ve known it was coming. That I…deserved it.”

 Guilt roils in Patton’s gut, pressing against his stomach, his throat, his mouth, his head, but one word lingers at the tip of his tongue.

 “…worldview?”

 Like someone flipping a light switch, Roman’s expression clicks into a softer fury. He sits back in the chair and for a moment, he looks as if he’s about to reminisce about something pleasant. What comes out of his mouth is anything but.

 “I wasn’t just afraid of Janus being accepted meaning I wasn’t,” he murmurs, voice far too gentle, “I was afraid because I remembered the last time the two of you agreed on something.”

 Oh.

 Oh.

 Oh, no.

 Growing up and seeing messages about one man, one woman.

 Growing up believing that people who didn’t feel that love were destined for something awful.

 Growing up seeing the isolation, the fear, the hatred, the violence.

 Watching Roman start to fantasize about boys.

 He remembers.

 He remembers Deceit—because he was only Deceit then—coming to him and telling him that under no circumstances can they ever act on these feelings. He remembers telling Deceit that they aren’t having these feelings, that they wouldn’t have those feelings, because they were wrong and Thomas was not wrong and so they would stop.

 He remembers the two of them hounding poor Roman about daydreaming about boys, wanting boys, wanting to make Thomas happy by imagining a future with a boy.

 Never mind that it wasn’t wrong.

 Never mind that it made Thomas miserable.

 Never mind that it was Patton that had the feelings first and Roman was just following Patton’s lead.

 Roman just nods.

 Patton opens his mouth to try and say something, anything, but he can’t. The guilt has eaten away his tongue.

 “But I can’t blame you for everything,” Roman says instead, still not looking at Patton—has he looked at him since he sat down?— “I was the one who looked at you as the unquestionable pillar of authority. I was the one who shoved that onto you when you didn’t ask for it. I was the one who made those choices. I’m as much to blame for this as you are.”

 “No.” Patton shakes his head firmly. “No, Roman, you’re not.”

 He takes a deep breath.

 “I...have a lot of influence over Thomas. I have a lot to do with how he reacts to things, how he sees the world and how we determine how to respond to it.” He sneaks a glance at Roman, whose gaze is still turned away. He tried to pretend that doesn’t hurt as much as it does. “And if I remember correctly...you tried to do something once to make me and Thomas happy because you wanted it too, and we...we told you off for it.”

 “With...?”

 Patton nods. “With...him. And I remember you refusing to take the wheel after that.”

 “I did,” Roman says softly, “because I realized I truly didn’t know how to make you—any of you—happy.”

 “I put myself in a position of authority as much as anyone else did,” Patton says, the tears—finally, he was wondering when they were going to show up—start to roll down his cheeks, “you’re not to blame for wanting to follow that, especially when I—when I told you that it was the right thing to do.”

 His glasses start to fog. He takes them off shakily and wipes them on his shirt.

 “But I’m done with that.” He puts them back on firmly. “I’m gonna figure out how to do this right, I promise, I’ll—I’ll redeem myself, I’ll be a good person.”

 Instead of Roman smiling softly and saying he looks forward to it, or Roman saying he doesn’t have to, or even Roman glaring at him and saying he’d like to see him try, Roman just huffs.

 “I think we need to get rid of the whole redemption arc thing too.”

 What?

 What?

 “What?”

 “It’s—“ Roman waves his hand— “it’s you saying you need to what, throw yourself at our feet? Repent? Atone for whatever wrongs you’ve done so we’ll welcome you back with open arms?”

 Patton nods in confusion. “So you’ll forgive me. So I can be good.”

 “Okay, but why is forgiveness a necessity for you to be good?”

 A pause.

 “Like, yes, working out how to stop doing bad things is something that I get, but why—why do we—why is forgiveness a crucial part of that?”

 “Because I’ve hurt you, and if I’m going to make it up to you—“

 “But that’s giving me power I didn’t ask for!”

 Roman pinches the bridge of his nose.

 “Look, forgiveness—in this case—is me granting your salvation, or something, or passing a judgment that absolves you of guilt, saying that you showed that you’ve changed and I judge you and then I agree that you’re enough better than you were, right?”

 He nods.

 “I don’t have that power! What gives me the right to sit there and say I have final say in whether or not you’re a good person? I’m not morally infallible! I’m not morally impartial! I’m not even Morality!”

 Roman throws his hands up and barks out a laugh.

 “And the idea that I could?” He shakes his head. “I have enough problems to worry about with that.”

 Patton’s eyes widen.

 He’s…he’s right.

 Goodness, he’s right.

 “B-but…” he swallows another wave of tears, “will you…you won’t love me if you don’t forgive me.”

 “Who told you that? Never mind,” Roman says, holding up a hand, “I know the answer to that.”

 He takes another deep breath.

 “Forgiveness and love are not the same thing, Patton,” he says softly, “I don’t have to forgive you to love you. I can love someone without forgiving every single wrong thing that they’ve done.”

 “You can?”

 “Virgil has hurt you. Logan has hurt you. Remus has hurt you. Janus has hurt you. I’ve hurt you.” Roman pauses. “Do you still love us?”

 “Yes,” he says immediately, “of course I do.”

 “There you go, then.”

 “But—“ he blinks to try and clear away the tears— “but what—if I’m a bad person—“

 “I never said that.”

 “—but bad people don’t deserve—“

 “Patton,” Roman cuts in sharply, “forgiveness and goodness aren’t the same either. I don’t need to forgive you to be a good person. Just because someone doesn’t forgive you doesn’t make you a bad person.”

 He softens.

 “And being a bad person isn’t as easy as you make it out to be.”

 “…what?”

 “What is courage?”

 Patton blinks.

 “What is courage,” Roman repeats, “tell me?”

 “It’s, um, bravery.”

 “Does that mean never being afraid, ever?”

 “N-no, it can mean being afraid and doing it anyway, because the reason you’re doing it is stronger than your fear.”

 “Then perhaps,” Roman says softly, “being a good person isn’t the absence of bad things, but choosing to do good things, over and over and over again.”

 The dark thing twists one more time.

 “So no, Patton,” Roman finishes, his eyes closing, “you don’t need to redeem yourself. You don’t need me to forgive you. And you’re not a bad person.”

 “How—“ he swallows— “how did this turn into you comforting me?”

 “Because that’s how this works, Patton.”

 “Not anymore it’s not.” Patton glares through the tears. “You did so well, Roman, right now, you told me everything and you didn’t give in, even when it was really hard for you and I know it was.”

 Roman is quiet.

 “You stood up to me and you stuck to your points, you let yourself get angry and you told me what you thought.” He swallows. “That was hard and so brave and I’m so proud of you.”

 He blinks furiously again.

 “I know you may not be a big fan of the word ‘deserve’—“ Roman huffs— “but you deserve to know that. That I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you.”

 “It’s funny,” Roman says, his voice strangled, “but for all my talk about you not needing my forgiveness, I…I—“

 Patton tears his glasses off to wipe frantically at his eyes and jam them back on.

 Oh.

 Oh, Roman…

 Roman is crying too. His face is shining, wet with tears.

 “…you know I’ve forgiven you already.”

 The dark thing in Patton’s chest shatters.

 “Can we be done,” he pleads, already reaching across the table, “can we be done, can I hug you now, please?”

 Roman looks at him.

 For the first time since sitting down, Roman looks at him.

 “…please?”

 There isn’t a word for the noise that tears itself out of Patton’s throat as he rushes around the table and just about tackles Roman into a hug. They fall to the ground, thankfully onto something soft, their arms wrapped too tightly around each other to tell who’s who. They’re both sobbing, apologies, promises, reassurances, everything, anything, words fumbling over and over each other until it’s just noise.

 It won’t be easy.

 It isn’t easy.

 But it’s okay.

 It’ll be okay.

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[peachy-rambles]

I'm Here

2,065 words of minor Phil angst and some good ol' hurt/comfort+fluff at the end

Techno couldn't sleep.

It wasn't exactly an uncommon problem for him. There had been plenty of times where he would end up staying awake for days, until he'd eventually pass out from exhaustion (entering hibernation mode). However, for the past few months, Techno had slept peacefully almost every night.

Because for the past few months, he had shared his bed with Phil.

It had simply been out of convenience at first, since there had only been one bed in Techno's cabin and there wasn't exactly any room for a second one. They had never spoken about it and it had never been a big issue, so they had just continued to share.

It had been...nice, sharing a bed with someone. With Phil.

To have Phil lay next to him, only a few inches away and easily within arms reach. To hear Phil's gentle breathing as he slept, and to know that he was there, that he was safe, that he was with Techno.

Usually in the morning, they'd end up waking up in each other's arms, having gravitated towards each other throughout the night. Phil, being the early bird he was, would always wake up first, but for some reason he'd stay in bed and wait until Techno eventually awoke.

"Good morning, Techno," Phil would say, smiling at him.

And every morning, Techno had to resist the urge to lean forward and kiss him because while Phil always looked beautiful, he truly looked like an angel in the morning. With his hair mussed from sleep and wearing a fond sleepy expression as he gazed at Techno, the morning light would filter through the curtains on the window and cast a soft golden glow around Phil.

Techno let out a large sigh at the memory and glanced over next to him where Phil's side of the bed lay empty.

Phil had finally completed building his own house next to Techno's and had finished moving into it earlier today. Which meant, they didn't need to share a bed anymore, not when Phil had his own house now where he could put a bed.

Techno understood, he really did. It made sense for Phil to want his own space and make his own house. His own bed.

Still, it didn't mean Techno didn't already miss him. He'd gotten used to sharing a bed and knew it'd probably be a while until he readjusted back to sleeping alone.

About an hour passed with Techno attempting to fall asleep, until he eventually gave up and tossed the blankets off, climbing out of bed.

He grabbed his cloak and threw it over his shoulders before heading downstairs. He figured he might as well go for a walk or maybe check on the animals because he certainly wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon.

He stepped outside into the cold night air and his eyes widened when he saw Phil standing on the bridge connecting their houses, leaning over the railings of it and staring out into the distance.

"Phil?"

Phil startled, turning when he heard his name and Techno couldn't help the low whine he let out when he saw tears flowing down Phil's face, his eyes red and puffy no doubt from crying.

Phil quickly reached up and wiped the tears from his face with sleeves of his robe, but it was already too late. Techno had seen it.

"Techno! I-I didn't hear you come out. W-what...what are you doing out so late?" Phil let out a nervous chuckle, as he finished wiping his face.

"I could ask you the same thing," Techno approached him with cautious steps until he was standing next to Phil. He reached down and placed a hand under Phil's chin, tilting his face up. "You've been crying."

Phil pulled away from Techno and took a step back, avoiding Techno's gaze. "I-it's nothing-"

Techno let out a growl, immediately silencing him. "It's not nothing, Phil! You wouldn't be out here in the middle of the night crying if it was nothing!"

He hadn't meant to snap at Phil, but he was worried, damnit. Phil always put up a brave face, joking and acting like nothing ever bothered him, insisting that he was perfectly fine. And Techno knew that if he didn't confront Phil about this now, if he let it go, then Phil would no doubt push whatever was bothering him deep down and ignore it.

Techno loved Phil too much to just let him suffer in silence.

Phil stared at Techno with wide eyes, seemingly shocked by Techno's words.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that," Techno sighed, "I just...want to help you. I'm here for you, Phil. I always will be."

"But you won't!"

Techno was silent, watching Phil as he took in a deep breath before continueing.

"You're not...you're not going to always be here, Techno. You'll leave me someday and then...then I'll be alone, again. I-I can't-"

Phil choked and let out a sob as more tears flowed down his face. Techno didn't hesitate to reach out and pull Phil into a hug, glad when Phil didn't try to push him away.

Phil gripped the sides of Techno's cloak tightly in his hands and pressed his face into Techno's chest before he began to cry. He wasn't quiet either, openly sobbing against Techno's chest, his entire body shaking as Techno held him.

Techno didn't say anything, since he didn't think there was really anything he could say to comfort Phil. So he just held him and let Phil cry.

Eventually, Phil's tears began to slow down and his breathing evened out, only occasionally letting out a small hiccup or whimper. He still held onto Techno's cloak, but his grip wasn't as tight anymore and his body seemed to have relaxed slightly in Techno's hold.

"Better?" Techno asked after a few moments.

Phil let out a noncommittal hum against Techno's chest, which...didn't really answer Techno's question, but it was better than nothing.

So he was surprised when he heard Phil speak, his voice somewhat muffled against Techno's chest.

"I don't want to be alone anymore, Techno."

"You won't," Techno said and immediately felt Phil tense up against him.

"Hey, Phil, look at me," he loosened his hold on Phil and placed his hands on either side of Phil's face, gently guiding Phil's head out from where it was still hiding against Techno's chest.

"There you are," Techno smiled down at him when their eyes finally met and he was able to look properly at Phil.

His face were red and blotchy from crying, and while he still seemed upset, he looked a little calmer and like he wouldn't burst into tears again.

"Phil, I promise you I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I'm not going to leave you. Not now or ever," Techno promised before bending down to press a brief kiss against Phil's forehead.

Phil let out a tired sigh, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Techno."

"I've already promised you the world. I think I can handle keeping up with you for at least the next few centuries," Techno replied back. He paused before adding, "Us immortals have to stick together, right?"

Phil let out a weak chuckle, the corner of his mouth rising ever so slightly in a small smile, "Right."

A sudden gust of air flew past them just then and Phil shivered, reminding Techno how cold it was out here at night.

"We should probably head back inside before we catch a cold or something," he suggested and slowly separated himself from Phil. "You think you'll be okay for tonight?"

Phil glanced down at his hands, where they were fiddling with the hem on his sleeve. He stayed quiet, and Techno stood there patiently, letting Phil gather his thoughts.

"I...I don't know. I don't really want to go back inside my house..." his voice trailed off for a moment before he quietly asked, "Could I...maybe sleep with you tonight?"

"Yeah, of course," Techno smiled and held out his hand to Phil, who took it and let Techno lead him into his house.

"You go up first, I'll be up in a minute," Techno said when they entered, letting go of Phil's hand.

Phil nodded and headed to the ladder leading up to the bedroom. Techno joined him a minute later, holding a warm washcloth in his hand. Phil was sitting quietly on the bed and Techno sat down next to him, raising the washcloth up to Phil's face. "May I?"

Phil nodded and Techno began to wipe Phil's face, making sure to go slow and gentle as he did.

By the time he was done, Phil definitely looked better, the tear tracks now gone and his eyes less red.

Techno stood up, tossing the washcloth into the hamper in his room and hung his cloak back up before walking back to the bed, where Phil had already climbed under the covers. Techno slid into the bed next to him, turning on his side so they were face to face, both quietly staring at each other.

"Phil...could I ask what you were doing out there before I came out?" Techno eventually said, "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Phil let out a sigh, "No, it's...it's fine. I...well, I had a nightmare. I don't even remember it, but when I woke up, I was alone. You weren't there and I guess I just...panicked. I went out to get some air and try to calm down, but then you found me."

"So that's why you didn't want to go back into your house," Techno realized.

"Yeah, I...don't like being alone," Phil confirmed and suddenly let out a yawn, "I think...I'm gonna go to sleep now. Goodnight, Techno."

"Goodnight, Phil," Techno smiled, "I'll be right here when you wake up."

Phil smiled, "Thanks, Tech."

Techno wasn't surprised when Phil managed to fall asleep a few minutes later, the man was no doubt exhausted from the emotional turmoil he had just gone through. Techno ended up falling asleep quickly after.

---

To Techno's complete surprise, he was the first one to wake up in the morning.

It was a bit strange, to have their positions reversed for once, but he didn't mind.

Phil was curled up in his arms, his head resting on Techno's chest, snoring ever so softly. Techno smiled and stared down at Phil, watching as he slept.

It was about an hour later that Phil began to stir, slowly opening his eyes and letting out the cutest chirp Techno had ever heard as he woke up.

"Good morning, Phil," Techno said, a warm smile on his face.

"Tech, you're here," Phil looked at Techno with that familiar sleepy fond expression on his face.

"I said I would be, wouldn't I?" Techno teased.

"Mm, you did," Phil said and let out another happy little chirp before sitting up slightly, so he was leaning on his elbow and looking down at Techno.

"Tech, I have something to tell you."

"Oh? What is it?"

"I was...a mess last night. But you were there for me, just like you always have been," Phil said, "This morning, waking up next to you, I realized something that I don't know why I never figured out before now."

"...Figured what out?" Techno asked, unsure as to where exactly Phil was going with this.

"That I want to wake up in your arms every morning, for the rest of our lives, if you'll let me," Phil confessed, smiling down at him.

Techno, the incredibly intelligent and articulate person that he was, responded aptly.

"Heh?"

Phil laughed before leaning down to whisper, "I love you, you idiot," and kissed Techno.

Techno was frozen in shock for a moment before he kissed back, bringing his hand up to cup the back of Phil's head.

They separated after a moment to catch their breath before Techno pulled Phil back down into another kiss.

"I love you, too," Techno said when they separated again, "But I should say in advance that you probably shouldn't count on me to wake up first in the morning. I have a feeling this was a once in a blue moon kind of thing."

"I think I can live with that," Phil chuckled and leaned down to kiss Techno once more.

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt22

hello!!! thank you all for your very kind words i super appreciate you :) happy reading! (u ask i deliver) 

pt1

pt21

pt23

A lot of her time was spent enduring criticism from generals, noblemen, and other advisors on how to run the country. Each idea she had was continuously shot down. She knew they were only taking advantage of Zuko’s absence, but their blind defiance of her made her angry. She was only trying to help! Why couldn’t they see that?

The exciting things always seemed to happen while (Y/N) was asleep. She woke to a commotion happening outside of her door. Blinking the sleepiness from her eyes, she slipped on her robe and slippers and peered her head outside of her room. She watched Azula dart past and Zuko running closely after her. (Y/N) blinked, rubbing her eyes once more to confirm that was what she saw. Sure enough, Azula was running down the halls of the palace, laughing hysterically as she did so. 

Her presence made no sense to (Y/N). Azula was supposed to be in prison, locked away so tightly that she couldn’t bring harm to anyone. So why was she running around the palace?

The event had surprised (Y/N) enough to wake her up. She ran down the hall after the two siblings, following them out of the palace, down through the gardens, and into a side building whose purpose she had never been sure of. She reached the two just in time to see Azula shut herself behind a door that could only be opened using firebending. Silently, she and Zuko used their bending to open the doors. 

The heavy wood parted, revealing a secret study that obviously belonged to Ozai, if the portrait of him above the fireplace was any indication. Azula was at the back of the room, rifling through a chest before popping back up with an, “Aha!” She clutched thin pieces of paper in her pale hands. Turning around, she flashed a smile at (Y/N). 

“Oh, Zuzu, you didn’t tell me (Y/N) was going to be here! I’ve been looking forward to catching up with her.” 

“What are you doing, Azula?” (Y/N) demanded. Azula ignored her, instead focusing on Zuko. 

“Father and I have been getting along very nicely since we’ve been in prison. He even told me about these letters,” She fanned herself with the pages. “That Mother wrote before she was banished. They might be the key to you finding her.” 

“Give them to me.” Zuko stretched out his hand, practically begging his sister. “Azula, please.” The girl stared at him for a moment before the letters went up in blue flames. She laughed as she saw the horrified expression on their faces. 

“Relax, I know everything that was in these letters. Which is why if you want to find our mother, you’ll have to do it on my terms.” 

“No,” (Y/N) said immediately. Zuko stared at her, his face contorted in confusion. “All she wants is to play games, Zuko, don’t let her. We can find your mother another way.” 

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll be able to,” Azula drawled, leaning against the large wooden desk of the study. “Not from what Father told me.” 

“Azula always lies!” (Y/N) hissed at Zuko. He looked from (Y/N) to Azula, then back to (Y/N). 

“I have to trust her,” Zuko said quietly. “Just this once.” 

“You won’t regret this, Zuzu,” Azula smiled. “Now, my stipulations. I must accompany you, of course, unbound. No restraints whatsoever.” 

Zuko ground his teeth. “Fine.” 

(Y/N) flung her hands into the air and let out an exasperated sigh before leaving the room. She passed Suki and Ty Lee, who were no doubt on their way to restrain Azula for the time being. Zuko quickly chased after her. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked once he had caught up with her, grabbing her by her forearm. 

“She’s playing you, Zuko!” She exclaimed. “She doesn’t really care about you, or finding your mother.” 

“I have to give her another chance.” 

“Why? It’s not like she deserves it! She almost killed the both of us the last time we saw her!”

“Azula’s my family, (Y/N). You gave me another chance. I have to give her one, too.” 

(Y/N) stared up at him. His amber eyes glimmered in the moonlight. He had shown her that everyone was capable of great change. But she couldn’t bring herself to award the same sympathy to Azula. The last time they had seen each other, Azula had nearly killed Zuko. If Katara hadn’t been there to heal him, he would have died. She wasn’t sure if that was something she could forgive. 

“Come with me to find her,” Zuko pleaded. (Y/N) looked past him to see Suki and Ty Lee leading Azula back into the palace. She remembered Zuko hitting the ground and Azula’s wicked laugh. She shook her head. 

“I understand and support you finding your mother, but I can’t be around her. It wouldn’t end well and I don’t want to ruin the reunion.” 

“I get it.” She could see the disappointment lingering on his features. It made her feel incredibly guilty, but she new she had to protect herself. It wasn’t a good idea to put her and Azula together after everything that had happened. 

She gave Zuko a half smile before returning to bed. 

---

Zuko left a few days later, accompanied with Azula and their friends. (Y/N) was saddened that she might miss out on another adventure, but she knew it was for the best. After all, someone had to run the Fire Nation in Zuko’s absence. 

A lot of her time was spent enduring criticism from generals, noblemen, and other advisors on how to run the country. Each idea she had was continuously shot down. She knew they were only taking advantage of Zuko’s absence, but their blind defiance of her made her angry. She was only trying to help! Why couldn’t they see that?

After a particularly grueling argument with another general on the state of the world, (Y/N) had decided that she would like to spend the rest of her day sitting by the turtle duck pond. She brought a book and read under the big tree while eating an apple. Perhaps it was the physical and emotional distance between them, but (Y/N) missed Zuko when he was gone. Meetings flew by easier with him at her side. She had more patience for the old men that tried to argue with her. 

A shadow appeared, blocking the sunlight from shining on (Y/N’s) book. She squinted up at the figure and recognized it as Ren, the son of one of the Earth Kingdom noblemen that had been particularly difficult with her today. Diplomats tended to bring their children along with them on important meetings so that they would better understand how they went when it came time for them to attend on their own. “Can I help you?” She asked. 

“I’m Ren,” He said, extending his hand to her. She shook it slowly. “I just wanted to introduce myself to you and apologize for the way my father behaved today.” 

“It’s alright,” She said with a shrug, taking another bite of her apple. “He wasn’t the first to be mean to me and he certainly won’t be the last.” 

“May I sit?” He asked, gesturing to the grass beside her. She gave a noncommittal shrug, which he took as a yes. “I really liked your idea about holding a festival to promote unity in the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom.” 

(Y/N) tilted her head. “How’d you get into the palace?” 

“I’ve been here since the meeting. You left too quickly for me to talk to you, so I asked the servants where you were until one of them led me to you.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I promise I’m not trying to be weird, I just really wanted to let you know that you have someone rooting for you from the other side.” 

She let out a small smile. “Well thank you, Ren, I appreciate that.” He smiled brightly at her before standing. 

“I should probably get going, but I’ll be at the meeting tomorrow if you’ll be there?” 

“When the Fire Lord’s out of town, I’m at every meeting.” He gave a quick nod before bowing and walking off of the palace grounds. She watched him as his figure retreated into a small blip on the horizon. What a weird guy. 

As weeks progressed without Zuko’s return, Ren found more and more ways to worm his way into (Y/N’s) time. He would talk to her after every meeting and reassure her that the points she had made were smart and discussed very eloquently. He seemed genuine in his compliments, which made (Y/N) feel nice on the inside. She felt her confidence in meetings improve, as long as Ren was there to give her a big smile and thumbs up when no one was looking. 

She liked to think that she helped him out, too. When they weren’t in meetings, they discussed ways to make their nations better. She let him know what might be well received by the other diplomats, which allowed him to come out of his shell a bit more during meetings. Some days, when they weren’t supposed to meet, she would invite Ren to sit under the big tree with her and feed the turtle ducks. 

“If I’m being honest, I’ve never really hung out with anyone from the Fire Nation before,” Ren admitted one day as he tossed a slice of bread into the pond. The turtle ducks and their babies all swam toward it, instantly devouring it. 

“I’ve never really hung out with anyone from the Earth Kingdom before, other than Toph. But she’s her own special brand of person.”

“Really? Not even when you were sent there?” She shrugged. 

“My parents never wanted me to go outside of our house. I had to sneak out to see what the city was really like. But I never got to hang out with anyone and just be myself.” 

“So they just kept you locked in all day?” She nodded. “Man, I didn’t think being engaged to the Fire Lord would stink that bad, but I guess so.” 

(Y/N) stared at him, her brows furrowed. “I’m not engaged to the Fire Lord.” Ren stared back, confused. 

“Really? You’re always in all of our meetings, I just assumed that you were preparing to be queen.” (Y/N) scoffed. 

“I guess you’re not too far off. Zuko and I used to be betrothed or whatever, but that all got thrown out the window when he was banished. I’m just his friend that helps him handle all of his Fire Lord duties.” 

“Oh,” Ren said, tossing another piece of bread into the pond. “Just to confirm, you and Fire Lord Zuko aren’t together?” She shook her head. “Then it wouldn’t be a problem if I asked to take you out on a date this weekend?” 

(Y/N) analyzed him for a moment. Her heart had told her for the longest time that it belonged to Zuko, but maybe she just needed to find someone who could change that. And here was a cute, funny guy that she enjoyed spending her time with. She should take a chance. 

“I don’t think that’d be a problem at all.” 

---

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[seokmingiggles]

a confirmation.

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x female reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship, kind of a college!au?

1.78k words

No warnings.

After a long day for both of you at the end of the winter semester, the last thing you want is to be kept awake by your restless feline. Alternatively, where Jihoon is sleepy and pouty, but still loves you and the cat.

A/N: This one is loosely based on true events from my night last night/early this morning. My cat kept me awake for many hours, so I barely managed to sleep. However, I certainly didn’t have a sleepy and pouty Jihoon to keep me company. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

•• I love my girlfriend, I love my girlfriend, I love my gi-

Jihoon repeated the mantra over and over in his head. He didn't have to convince himself that he was head-over-heels in love with you (despite not always being the best at showing his affection), but it was your cat on the other side of the closed bedroom door which made him furrow his eyebrows in the—what was once peaceful—darkened room.

I love my girlfriend's cat, I love my girlfriend's cat.

But little Yuna would not seem to shut up.

Jihoon had had a long, busy and tiring day earlier, and was absolutely ready to curl up in bed with his beautiful partner at the end of the day. You were likewise also exhausted from the copious amounts of studying and preparing for your exams recently, the final one completed just earlier this afternoon. You were more than ready for some time off from school and longing to spend your break in your boyfriend's arms as his schedule also thinned out for the holidays.

It was relieving for your head to hit the pillow when you climbed into bed a few hours ago. Jihoon was already waiting for you which was an uncommon occurrence. He looked just as tired as you felt, beckoning you into his chest with open arms. You gladly complied.

"(Y/N)..." Jihoon muttered softly, nervous to wake you up.

You didn't so much as stir from your slumber.

The boy tried again, this time a little bit louder, "(Y/N)-ie? (Y/N)."

You hummed, still half-asleep and disoriented.

"Please, (Y/N), why does your cat insist now is a good time to begin screaming at the door?"

"She's our cat, you know. We picked her together," you replied, rubbing your eyes lightly as your consciousness crept in.

"She likes you more, though," the boy pouted in the darkness, "you're her favourite."

You sighed as you removed the blanket encasing you in comfortable, cozy warmth; your bare feet hitting the cool wood panels made you regret your decision instantly.

"I don't know why you couldn't have let her in if you were already awake, Ji," you pouted back at your boyfriend despite how he wasn't able to see your face in the dark as you waddled your way to the door.

Upon opening it, little Yuna, a fluffy brown and white lady, perked up from her previous position of being sprawled out on the floor and trying to fit her paws beneath the door to somehow open it herself.

"Let's go, fluffy," you ushered the cat to follow you back into Jihoon's waiting warmth.

Yet, Yuna instead began to groom herself, not caring about you or the plush bed where you invited her to rest.

You let out a sigh and made your way back to the mattress by yourself; fruitless were your efforts as the cat remained in the doorway.

"Remind me again why we thought getting a cat was a good idea?" Jihoon rhetorically asked, already knowing your answer.

"Yuna is a sweetheart!" Your answer was instant despite Yuna's uncompliant actions only moments ago. "We both liked her in the shelter. She'd already been vaccinated and spayed, and most importantly, she's adorable!" You pondered, continuing, "Some would even argue that she's cuter than you."

"Oh?" Jihoon felt a smile form on his face rather than the sulking expression he bore earlier from being so rudely awoken. "She can be cuter than me, I'm fine with that, but she's definitely not cuter than you. She can, however, be noisier than you. Especially at two in the morning."

And at two in the morning, after some giggling and shifting in each other's embrace until you were once again comfy, the two of you managed to fall back asleep. Yuna, after she possibly overheard Jihoon's complaint, managed to quiet down after you left your bedroom door ajar for her to come and go as she pleased.

That was until she had a sudden burst of energy only a few hours later. Jihoon was yet again the one to be disturbed from his precious slumber first, now feeling bad about nudging your shoulder to keep him company as he listened to the sound of Yuna scampering around the kitchen.

"Why?" the groggy boy's words were muffled by the crook of your neck where he buried his face in after you stirred. "Why tonight? Why can't she just be quiet for tonight?"

"That's not how cats work, Ji," you brought your hand to the side of Jihoon's face, stroking his temple lovingly. "Do you want me to go and hide all her toys? That may get her to stop for long enough for us to get some decent sleep."

"No, no," he began to sit up, "I'll deal with her, you got up last time. I need some water anyway." Jihoon placed a delicate kiss on your cheek before he stood up and exited the room, the gesture relaxing you almost enough to fall back asleep then and there.

"Why are you so noisy tonight, young lady? Hm?"

You heard your boyfriend's small voice from the kitchen as he spoke to Yuna. The feline gave a meow in response to his question, seemingly excited that someone else was awake at this hour.

Even though Jihoon made it a mission to act like he wasn't nearly as fond of Yuna as you so unabashedly were, you knew she had him wrapped around her paw.

The padding of Jihoon's footsteps approaching made you look up to the door, only to find him holding Yuna like he was offering you a gift. He gently placed the cat on the foot of the bed before crawling back to your side below the covers, sighing as his head hit the pillow once more.

Yuna carefully worked her way up the bed, softly purring from being held by Jihoon (which was a rare occurrence).

She found herself between your faces, sniffing the boy's brow-bone before butting her head against his.

"See, she likes you too," you grinned, beginning to pet the cat who was kneading into the duvet brought up to Jihoon's chin. "Maybe she just needs some confirmation every once in a while that you care about her."

Jihoon removed his arms from beneath the blanket to feel Yuna's soft coat. "That sounds like someone else I know."

You murmured, "Some confirmation is nice."

You didn't bother to check the time, but you were now able to see the silhouette of your boyfriend's face in the slowly rising light from the adjacent window.

"I love you, (Y/N). Much more than I show it," Jihoon paused. "I know I'm not the best at showing affection. I want to be better at it, but please, know that I do love you. You complete me. We have an apartment together; we have a cat together. I wouldn't do either of those with anyone unless I loved them unconditionally. Like how I love you."

Your eyes remained on Jihoon's face until his gaze finally met yours. You took ahold of his hand and tenderly grazed your thumb across his knuckles.

"Thank you. I love you too, Ji. You complete me."

The boy brought your intertwined hands to his mouth, placing the most gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

If there was more light in the room, you swear you'd be able to see pink dusting his cheeks at the gesture.

"Would you look at that; I think Yuna's finally calm down," Jihoon changed the subject out of courtesy to his burning face. "What time is it?"

You reluctantly removed your hand from his to roll over and check your phone. You blinked a couple of times at the numbers on the screen, about to speak when the noise of your alarm interrupted and answered the question for you.

An annoyed groan erupted from your throat as you placed your phone back on the nightstand. "It feels like we haven't gotten any sleep tonight."

"Well, it won't be the first time that's happened."

Now you were the one sporting the blush, knowing instantly about the night your boyfriend alluded to.

"You're cute when you're flustered, (Y/N)-ie. Come on, lay back down with me and Yuna." Jihoon grazed his fingers over the sleeping cat in between your bodies.

"I've never been happier to have finished my exams," you whispered, not wanting to disturb the sleeping pile of fluff. "There's no way I could be productive later with this much lack of sleep."

Jihoon hummed in agreement and finished your thought, "Let's spend the rest of the day in bed."

You carefully moved as close as you could to the boy with the cat in the way. Your legs found his beneath the blanket, "Goodnight, Ji."

"Goodnight, (Y/N). Sweet dreams, my love."

•

You found yourself waking to the smell of coffee and toast from the kitchen. The culprit was humming to himself, a gentle sound you barely heard over the sizzling of a pan.

"Oh! Good morning, (Y/N)-ie," Jihoon briefly stopped his work over the stove to kiss you upon your arrival, your face slightly puffy with sleep.

"What's all this?" You motioned to the pan with the golden bread.

Jihoon turned back to the stovetop as he spoke, "Well, I was thinking more about what you said last night, or this morning I suppose, about me giving you more confirmations, as you put it. It made me want to make you breakfast, despite it being past noon now. Here, this one's ready if you want to grab a plate," the boy slid the bread onto the dish you presented. "I hope it's okay. It's been a while since I last made French toast."

"I'm sure it tastes as good as it smells, Ji," you thanked him, putting the plate down on the counter to give your boyfriend a hug from behind as he continued cooking another slice for himself, although he stopped his movements as your arms held him close.

Jihoon beamed at your embrace, not being able to diminish the smile that broke across his features. Although he admittedly didn't get the best rest last night, he still wouldn't change a thing. You two didn't always get time to enjoy each other's company with differing schedules, especially during the semester, but last night really was a confirmation for Jihoon that he was in the right place; that all his past decisions leading up to this moment were worthwhile.

After all, he had a beautiful partner to come home to at the end of the day, and—as you would argue to be even more important—a really cute cat.

Other than a proper night’s sleep, what more could he ask for?

••

[obeymeluv]

Can you do a belphie fanfic where the mc has a anxiety/panic attack and just freaks out and can’t clam down so belphie using the pact to find them and since they can’t relax use the thing you talked abt in the kidnapping hc where he ends up forcing them to sleep in order to calm down

How dead am I, huh? (very)

School is absolutely killer. I’ve made it through the rough(er) spot--probably the roughest spot of the semester?--so I’m going to answer this and snoop around to figure out if I’ve got anything that needs updating. 

I may just do the baby post today, by George :o

ALSO, CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW I PLAYED RELIGIOUSLY FOR TWO WEEKS AND MADE IT TO THE NEXT LEVEL BECAUSE I GOT A ONE-STAR PASS?! WHY?! I WORKED SO HARD AND RAISED MY CARDS A BUTT-TON!

This probably won’t be very long, but anyways...

Belphegor wasn’t incredibly accustomed to the idea of panic. It’s hard to think back thousands of years, but he’s sure the only time he ever really felt it was when he saw Lilith plummeting somewhere out of reach.

No armor, no medic, no help, just helpless...

Wounded and maybe unconscious. Maybe she was dead before she finished falling. 

The memory is fuzzy. About as fuzzy as his eyes and focus feels now. There’s a sense of urgency in his chest, like he swallowed a little bird whole and it’s trying to find its way out. It’s pecking at the muscles in his chest; the panic twangs through him like a plucked string. It reverberates, a cascade of full-body tingles zapping his brain into alertness.

Not here, no, there! Go that way! Belphegor almost thinks he’s sleepwalking because there’s a disconnect between his brain and his body. Something that can’t process. Maybe he’s dreaming again and he’s subconscious seeking out a better napping spot. The youngest twin pushes open his eyes, a slice of blue violet and pink, and he realizes he’s in the foyer of the House of Lamentation.

Head outside! Keep going, keep going! the fluttering feeling starts to buzz in his chest, a pointed insistence demanding he walk outside. He knows he’s not dreaming now, and that he’s being directed to something. There’s something important in...whatever direction his feet are going. The crisp Devildom air never changes and never fails to wake him up when he goes for his rare walks. As he walks, he runs through the very small list of people who could pull on him like this.

Beelzebub would do it without thinking, and he never gives off such distress. Indigestion or upset stomach, maybe. Never panic. Belphegor has never known him to panic; in fact, Beelzebub has always been his rock, his protector. The other brothers would give off The Call, which could wake even him from a dead sleep.

So that left you, and the thought exhausted him. Or maybe pity felt just like exhaustion to this body. Under this sin he still wasn’t used to embodying. Being tugged on by a human would certainly explain the squirrelly, flitting sensation dancing throughout his chest. He confirmed the beseeching pull by wandering away from the general direction of the pulse.

It thrummed a little higher. A little stronger, like a silent plea. An urge to turn around, a compulsion to walk forward. Although the site of RAD caused a growl to bubble up in his throat, Belphegor fought the urge to shrink away. Instead, he allowed his demon form to take over, tail swishing angrily at the sight of the stupid school with stupid Diavolo’s name on it. 

He crossed the threshold of RAD and inhaled quietly. Deeply. Your scent was very faint, masked by the passage of times and countless demons who came and went for class. It didn’t help that the Conjuring and Conjugation class smelled like smoke, and that smell seemed baked into the walls. 

Where are you?  Belphegor’s brows furrowed as he tried to see past the white tips of his hair. The panic wasn’t as strong now...perhaps your adrenaline was starting to fade. He was always careful when using the bond; when using it you were very susceptible to getting sleepy or falling asleep. If he wasn’t there, who knows where you’d land or what trouble you’d get in?!

Let me in, let me see. Show me. Belphegor took a stuttering step as his vision darkened dramatically. He was looking through your eyes now. Humans didn’t have the eyesight of a demon but even he could make out a shelf above your head--wooden with an iron gilded edge. It was topped with too many shapes to discern; he stretched your arms to feel stone walls scrape under his fingertips.

There was enough space to turn around one, two, three times. Whatever was behind you had a finite end. Nothing bulky in the way, but a cluster of something that rattled and jangled in the adjacent corner. He had you walk forward until you bumped into old, hard wood of a door. Feel the door, check for a handle--there were no splinters but he could feel cracks under his fingernails.

No light or faint glow from corridor torches. You weren’t near any windows. 

The panic flared up all over again and it was strong enough to shake Belphie’s concentration. His heart cantered and he lost his grip on the connection. Human emotions could be so disgusting and yet, he was all too pleased to get the good ones from you. Ones that felt better than the warmest, coziest blanket.

There was the distinct feeling of a trapped animal ramming the sides of its cage. The fear of being closed in on and somewhere far too small. It was a feeling he knew all too well, being up in that attic as long as he was. The sensation of bruising his shoulders pulsed like the faint echoes of banging he was able to hear somewhere in the distance. Belphegor initiated the push again, forcing you to walk towards the door and put your hands on it.

Make noise, Belphegor demanded. You were shaking too much to do so. Your arms felt locked, and your brain felt too frazzled, too jumpy, to tell your arm and hand what to do. So he helped you, beating his fist on the wall as gently as he could. Humans were only so strong, but the dull noise was enough to make him take a right.

He stood before a wooden door that had been jammed shut by a wall torch. No doubt by some gutless demons playing a joke on the exchange student. Your newness had likely charmed too many and spurned a few. Surely upset some who used to wear the crown of popularity. Belphegor choked down the angry noises, the rage that burned blinding white-hot in his veins, and ripped the torch out with enough force to take half the wrought-iron lock.

You came spilling out with babbling sobs and gasping breaths that made his chest burn. He sort of felt like throwing up. His tail swished angrily at your situation and the unpleasant idea of you emptying your stomach on his hoodie. Careful not to grab your cheeks with his long nails, afraid you’d accidentally cut yourself on them as you tried to bury your face against them, Belphegor held your face in his palms.

Squished that cute, dumb human face of yours. He bent down until you were forehead-to-forehead, issuing a quiet demon coo that roughly translated to comfort. A wish for calm. Key emotions in the demon language would translate in the human subconscious, they’d come to learn, and that effect was enhanced when pulling on the bond. It helped a little bit but to save your shaking and the nauseating feeling brewing in your stomach, he burrowed into the bond and sent a wash of sleepiness over you.

It was a command, really. It didn’t technically count as charming you, so Lucifer could suck it. It was just a...very potent side effect of the bond that he happened to use for a good reason. You slumped awkwardly against him, going limp as a doll, and Belphie underestimated how graceless that made you.

How heavy, too! You were BEYOND easy to hold and handle by demon standards, but humans were awkward to hold when they weren’t positioned right. He pinned you between the wall and one shoulder as he texted Beel, wondering if gravity could put you in a piggy-back position. So far your chin was on his shoulder...that was about it. He debated moving into a slow crouch but was worried you’d tumble straight over his shoulder or flop out of his reach (to the left or the right).

He tried slowly wrapping his arms around you, putting your arms on his neck, but your legs wouldn’t stay on his waist. Belphegor got the bright idea to wrap his tail around your legs once he secured them in place, but now your head was lolling in a way that humans’ bodies probably shouldn’t.

This position wasn’t good, either, and it made him feel very tangled. Just when he was considering stuffing you under one arm and toting you like his pillow, Beel shuffled around the corner with a bit of training equipment and a cooked Devilbird leg that he’d nicked from the cafeteria prep. By the smile on his face, he’d done it without getting caught, too.

Beel’s eyes glittered with interest as he looked at his little brother and the human. There was surely a story here, but if Belphie wanted to share it, he would. The bit of training equipment was very similar to a human world baby-carrier, something they used to practice training under added weight. He shouldered it on and tried to stabilize you as best he could, reaching blindly over his shoulder to hold you as Belphie buckled you in.

The twins started back towards the House of Lamentation, Belphie lagging behind not only because he was tired, but to keep an eye on you. “You think they’d wake up for food?” Beel turned to look at him. Your feet swung out and your head rolled a little. Belphie flicked him in the back of the calf with his tail and turned him forward gently.   

“Maybe,” Belphie laughed. “But I owe you for bringing the sling, so let’s grab a bite at AkuDonald’s.” he offered. Beel agreed, humming with excitement. After Beel ate his fill, they went back to the House of Lamentation. You slept the whole way, but Belphie wasn’t surprised. His sleepy aura was always potent; the brothers hadn’t pinned down the average nap time for you yet.

All he knew is that you’d wake up with him, safe and sound, like you always did.

---

Hope you liked it :)      

[fanmoose12]

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 5/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

It took two sets of the alarm to wake Petra up the next morning. Still sleepy, she yawned and slowly sat up. Rubbing her eyes, she looked out of the window. The weather was awful - the sky was grey, heavy clouds were hiding the sun and making everything look gloomy. It was raining too, the sound of raindrops, hitting the window, was defining in the otherwise silent apartment.

Petra groaned - she hated the rain. Sure, occasional summer drizzle was enjoyable, but weather like this? The cold and harsh autumn rain? The mighty wind that threatened to blow the umbrella out of her hands and then throw her onto the ground as well? She hated it more than anything.

But, whether she liked it or not, Petra had to go to work. So with a heavy sigh, she got up from the bed, shivering as her bare feet touched the cold floor. Draping a robe over her shoulders, she was going to head to the bathroom. A sound, announcing a new message on her phone, stopped her. She reached for the phone, quickly unlocking it. It was seven in the morning. Who could be messaging her so early?

Remember the cafe we visited yesterday? I'm waiting for you there. Don't take too long.

So it was from Levi! But didn't he request a day-off? And what was the meaning of his text? Was it his awkward manner of asking her out on a breakfast? Was it his way of apologizing for the failed interrogation?

Whatever it was, Petra wasn't courageous enough to call and ask him about it. She'd get ready quickly and meet him there. Certainly, things would be cleared out then.

After taking a quick shower and putting on a dark blue dress and a striped black jacket, Petra got in a taxi and soon arrived to the cafe.

And as she got out from the car, the small red umbrella as her only protection from the thick rain, Petra felt dread settle in her stomach. There was shivers running down her spine, and they had nothing to do with the droplets of cold water hitting her face.

The cafe. It was surrounded by police cars.

Fearing the worst, she made her way through the crowd of police officers, ignoring the trembling in her knees. Her hand was clutching the umbrella almost painfully. Her heart was beating so loudly, she could barely hear what the others were talking about. Only when she walked up to the entrance and saw Levi, sitting on a curb and comforting the owner of the cafe, that sweet old lady with a kind smile, only then Petra allowed herself to breathe out in relief.

"What happened?" she demanded from Levi, looking around in alarm.

"Another murder," Levi answered curtly. "The body is inside, I've been waiting for you to show up, so we can get a look at it together."

Petra nodded, ready to start the investigation. Before he got to his feet, though, Levi turned around, whispering something to the old woman. His voice was too soft for her to hear, and Petra turned around, giving them at least some semblance of privacy.

"Let's go," he said as he stood next to her.

"Detective," the woman called, before Levi and Petra disappeared inside. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

For a second, hurt flashed in Levi's eyes. He reached out and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry for yours too, Dorothy."

The woman, Dorothy, looked so sad, so weary and tired. Petra's heart clenched painfully, as she was reminded of her own mother, who had died years ago.

"We'll find the killer," Petra promised her heartily. Levi turned his gaze on her, but Petra didn't let it steer her. She stared straight at Dorothy. "We'll find him and bring him to justice."

The old woman smiled weakly, but genuinely. "Thank you, dear," she whispered softly. "It means a lot."

Petra smiled back, but before she could give Dorothy a reply, she was roughly dragged away by Levi.

"Never give promises you're not sure you can keep," he said sternly.

"But I—"

"You're right, though," Levi continued, cutting her off. "We'll catch that bastard. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure that."

Without sparring her another glance, Levi pushed the door to the cafe open, walking inside.

***

As soon as they entered, a short red-headed woman approached them.

"Detective Ackerman!" she exclaimed, clearly surprised. "Why are you here? Isn't today your day-off? Today is the anniversary of—"

"I know what day it is," Levi gritted through his teeth. "But we've got a dead body in the cafe. So, maybe, you would be so kind as to walk us through the case, Nifa?"

"Ah, of course, I'm sorry,” Nifa pursed her lips, looking up at Levi with caution. But then she sighed, taking out two pairs of sterile gloves and handing them to Petra and Levi. She straightened out and started leading them to the scene of crime.

"The woman, waitress, had her throat slashed, just like the previous victin. According to the owner of the cafe, the waitress had a night shift and was supposed to be working till seven am. At a little past six, the owner came to help with preparing for a morning rush and that's when she had found the body. She called the police and we arrived at half past six. Judging by the rigor mortis, the victim was killed approximately three or four hours ago. There," she gestured at one of the booths, where a woman sat, her head lying on the table.

The first thing Petra noticed about the victim was the yellow jacket that was draped over her shoulders. She wasn’t surprised by its flamboyant, cheerful color, or the fact that it looked like it was put over the victim after her death, no, it was the state of the jacket. The color definitely was bright and vivid before, but now it was covered with dust and soot. The hem and sleeves looked torn and ragged. It seemed as though... the jacket was burned.

Next to her, Levi took a sharp intake of breath.

"We don't know for sure yet!" Nifa blurted out, seeing the expression on Levi's face. "We'll need to search for DNA or—"

"No, it's Hange's," he murmured. His hand was slightly trembling, as he reached out to gently stroke the dirty clothe. His eyes were filled with affection and his lips curled into almost a smile, as gazed at it. “Only that idiot could wear such an ugly jacket.”

Petra and Nifa exchanged a worried gaze.

"That bastard," Levi growled a second later, all signs of that softness gone. He squeezed the hand on his side so much, his knuckles turned white. "He's playing with me again. Fucking asshole,” he spat, his eyes burning with rage. “Well, he can play as much he wants, I'll catch him anyway. And then I'll make him pay." Levi paused, lowering his head and taking a deep breath. Then he looked up, fixing Nifa with sharp gaze. "What else did you manage to find?"

"Not much," she answered honestly. "We couldn't find any fingerprints or other signs of the killer. The victim obviously didn't put up a fight, there is nothing under her fingernails and the only visible injury is the cut on her throat."

"Could she be dragged like the previous victim?" Petra asked.

"Possibly," Nifa nodded. "We'll determine it for sure at the lab. The killer obviously tried to keep this scene of crime as clean as the previous one, but we found traces of blood on victim's blouse and skirt."

"Is there any blood on the jacket?" Levi questioned.

"There is blood," Nifa confirmed. "But it's not fresh. We’ll need to run tests at the lab. To find out, whether the blood belongs to the victim, or...” she paused, staring at Levi apologetically.

“Or if it is Hange’s,” he finished for her. “Well, whatever you find, it’s probable that the jacket was put on the victim after her death."

Petra nodded, satisfied with herself. She came to the same conclusion.

"What about security cameras? Did they manage to catch something?"

"There are no security cameras inside the cafe, but we are still looking for them in surrounding areas."

"Alright," Levi concluded. "We'll take it from here. Let's go and ask around," he told Petra. "Maybe, we'll find a witness."

"Wait a second," Petra stopped Levi with a hand on his sleeve. Her eyes were still focused on that jacket.

It looked like....

Petra quickly put on sterile gloves and carefully tugged at one side of the jacket, revealing the inner layer. Just as she thought, there was something in the inside pocket.

A note.

Grinning victoriously, she took it out. The smile disappeared from her face as soon as she read the contents. Her heart missed a beat as soon as she read the contents.

Levi snatched the note out of her hands before Petra could begin to tremble.

"What is this shit?" he muttered, looking at the note. "You'd better stop looking for me, detective. Or the next souvenir I'll bring you will belong to your new partner," Levi cursed as he finished reading the note aloud. He crumbled the piece of paper in his fist, clenching his jaw.

Petra watched him with a detached face. The edges of her vision began to swim, as the words, written in that note, kept replaying in her head, ringing louder than the noise around her. Her limbs grew limp and her heart rate quickened, as she fruitlessly tried to breathe.

Even though, it didn't happen to her ever since she graduated high school, Petra could never forget the symptoms, the way her body felt in the beginning of a panic attack.

She tried to take a grip on herself, remember the lessons her father taught her. But his words, his wise advices kept escaping her, getting out of her reach before Petra could piece them together.

Her father always said, he always said that in situations like this the most important thing was to... was to…

"Breathe," Levi's gruff voice penetrated through the fog around Petra. "Petra, you just need to breathe, c'mon," he gently but firmly squeezed her shoulders. "In and out, slowly," he instructed her patiently.

After Petra managed a couple of calm exhales and inhales, Levi sighed in relief. "Here," he pressed on her shoulder to sit her down at a chair. Immediately, Nifa appeared with water and granola bar in her hands.

"Are you alright?" she asked, genuinely worried.

"Yeah..." Petra nodded shakily, avoiding looking at Nifa and especially Levi. She felt like an idiot. It was just some stupid note, and she almost fainted because of it. What a badass detective she was. "Sorry for worrying you."

"I understand if you want to drop this case," Levi told her, surprisingly soft.

"No!" Petra jumped from her sit. Nifa, who was hovering over her and measuring her pulse, gave Levi an angry look. "I just overreacted, but I'll be fine, I promise! I can take it!"

Levi watched her for a long moment, his eyes skeptic and doubtful.

"I can't always be there to protect you."

"I know.”

"And yet you still want to continue the investigation?"

"Yes," Petra answered without hesitation.

Levi kept staring in her eyes, as though searching for a sign of doubt. When he couldn't see any, he sighed and shook his head.

"There is nothing I can say that would change your mind, right?"

Petra nodded with a smile.

Levi cursed under his breath. "Tell me when you're ready. Rest for a while, and then we'll start the search."

"I can handle the investigation by myself today," Petra offered. "It's your day off after all."

Levi frowned. "I shouldn't leave you alone."

"I can go with her!" Nifa cheerfully exclaimed, putting a hand on Petra's shoulder.

"Don't you have to be at the lab?" Levi asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Nah," Nifa waved her hand. "I already came here at half past six, the boys can take care of the rest. Besides!" she turned to Petra. "I always wanted to take part in investigation. Oh, we're going to have so much fun!"

Petra couldn't keep a smile off her face, Nifa's excitement was infectious.

"Fine," Levi rolled his eyes. "Go together, but be careful. Do you have a gun, Petra?"

"Of course."

"And my phone number?"

"Yes."

“Good, if you see anything strange or suspicious, call me immediately. Deal?"

"Deal," Petra agreed. And before Levi left, she reached out to him. "Can we talk before you go?" she threw an apologizing look in Nifa's direction. "In private."

Levi tensed ever so slightly, but nodded without hesitation. "We'll be back soon," he said to Nifa and then turned around, leading Petra out of the cafe.

Before they left, he grabbed the granola bar Nifa brought to Petra.

Navigating through the crowd of policemen and curious pedestrians, Levi reached to his car. He opened the passenger door, gesturing for Petra to get in. Then he sat down in the driver's seat.

"Eat," he ordered, thrusting a granola bar into her hand. "And talk."

"Djel Sannes asked me to spy on you," Petra blurted out, shutting her eyes tightly. She was afraid to look at Levi's face. What if he gets angry? What if he is disappointed? What if he stops trusting her?

"Oh," Levi breathed out, surprisingly calm. "I didn't expect that. Did you agree?"

"What!" Petra opened her eyes widely. "Of course, not!" she exclaimed, but then paused, remembering their conversation with Sannes. Technically... "Well, truth be told, I did agree... But only to fool him! I'm not going to report anything to him!"

"You should," Levi said, shocking Petra even more.

"I... I don't understand."

Levi tiredly rubbed his forehead. "I need to discuss it with Erwin first, and I know I'm asking a lot of you..."

"Nonsense!" Petra cried out. "I'm on your side! And I really want to help!"

"Thank you," Levi told her earnestly. His eyes were a little softer than usual. It made Petra feel warmer.

"After what I just revealed..." she began uncertainly. “You still trust me? I could be working for him actually."

"No, you couldn't," Levi answered without an ounce of a doubt.

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Because you're a good person, Petra. And," a little smirk appeared on his lips. "You are a terrible liar."

Petra let out a surprised chuckle. She looked at Levi, feeling her smile grow wider. "So... What do you need me to do?"

"As I said, I need to talk with Erwin first, but... we could make a double agent out of you. You'll give Sannes some false information and then tell me his reaction. I need to know how much he knows."

"You can count on me!" Petra cheerfully promised. A moment later, however, a little frown appeared on her face. “By the way… why does he hate you so much?”

For a long moment, Levi was silent. His fingers drummed rhythmically at the steering wheel, as he appeared deep in thought. Petra was starting to think she won’t get her answers, but then Levi turned to look at her, staring right into her eyes.

“The trust should go both ways, I suppose,” he said. “I... found an informant. I don’t know who they are and I’ve never met them, but every once in a while, they bring me little messages with information. It’s the location of Sannes’ next deal, or a name of some politician who was bribed by him... that kind of stuff.”

“And these messages… they turn out to be true?”

“Every goddamn time. Sometimes I act on them, do whatever I can to stop Sannes’ dealings. Not always, of course, or Sannes would have me removed a long time ago. But he still suspects me, I guess.”

“Oh.” That was a lot to digest. "Oh!" Petra repeated, suddenly remembering. "Nifa is probably waiting for me! I should hurry!"

"Be careful!" Levi told her as she opened the door. "Don't forget to eat," he pointed with his chin at the granola bar she was still holding. "And call me if anything goes wrong, okay?"

"Of course!" Petra waved at him, and then ran back to the cafe.

Despite the worrying information Levi had revealed to her, she felt giddy and relieved, as she maneuvered between the pedestrians under the still going rain. He trusted her. Maybe, they’d be able to become real partners after all.

***

"I'm going to be honest with you," Nifa mumbled after taking a bite from a chocolate cake. "Today kinda sucked. I always thought that detective work was more exciting that just going around and asking people the same few questions."

Petra sighed. She felt exactly the same. They've spent the majority of the day, trying to find some witnesses, but were met with failure after failure. Now she and Nifa sat in break room at the forensics department, drinking tea and eating cake. Moblit was right after all, their tea collection was more than impressive. And Nifa's pastries were delicious.

“I'm sorry that I've dragged you into this," she told Nifa. "You're probably regretting your decision to accompany me."

"Oi, don't be ridiculous. It wasn't as thrilling as I hoped, but it was still better than being stuck in here."

"Huh?" Petra frowned. “You don't like working here?"

"No, don't get me wrong," Nifa answered. "I love my job, but I spend day after day, surrounded by dead bodies, and, more terribly, three boring nerds," she pointed to Moblit, Abel and Keiji, who were discussing something at the other side of the room. "So thank you for taking me with you," she smiled prettily. "I hope we'll become friends!"

"I would like that," Petra smiled back. Nifa was really nice. She would love to be friends with a woman like her.

"I hate to interrupt, ladies," Abel approached them. "But we'll be starting the dissection soon, so..."

Nifa groaned. "What do you need me to do?"

"No, no," Abel assured her with a nervous smile. "The three of us are more than enough for the job, but detective Ral probably isn't as used to smell as we are."

"Oh, of course, I didn't think about it. C'mon," Nifa took Petra's hand, dragging her upwards. "Let's go to your office then. I know where detective Ackerman hides his precious tea stash."

"You want to steal his tea? Won't we get in trouble with him?" Petra fretted, following Nifa out of the break room and up the stairs.

"Don't worry. If your partner wants to yell at me, he'll need to come down here first. Which I doubt he’ll do."

"I thought he visited your department a lot," Petra said with no small deal of confusion.

"Only when he needs an autopsy report or for us to look over some evidence. And he never stays for long."

"Oh."

"It wasn't like that before," Nifa noted sadly. "Before..."

"Detective Zoe's death?"

"Yeah,” Nifa shook her head. “Before that he frequently visited our department. He always complained about the smell," a wistful smile appeared on Nifa's face. "But usually, whenever detective Hange went, detective Ackerman followed. She always managed to bring him out of his shelf. Wait!" Nifa took out a phone from her lab coat. "You really need to see this!” she pushed Petra into an empty hallway, all the while searching for something on her phone.

"Found it!" she exclaimed, thrusting the phone in Petra's hands. She pressed play and cocked her head, hovering above the phone alongside Petra.

A video started to play. Whoever was recording it had really shaky hands, and the image wasn't in a good quality, but it was obvious that it was recorded in some kind of a bar.

"I took it two years ago. We just finished one extremely troublesome case and decided to celebrate with a night of karaoke," Nifa explained, as the camera focused on a small stage.

Three people were standing there, their hands wrapped around each other, as they struggled to keep themselves upright. One person in particular seemed painfully familiar.

"Is that..." Petra gasped, not quite believing her eyes.

"Yes, it's detective Ackerman, Сaptain Erwin and detective Hange," Nifa snickered, watching Petra's shocked expression.

Meanwhile, the first notes of "Don't Stop Believing" started playing. Immediately, Captain Erwin and detective Hange started singing. Erwin's voice was deep, and unsurprisingly, quite nice. However, the effect was somewhat ruined by his extensive slurring. Detective Zoe, on the other hand, wasn’t actually singing. It was more like she was screaming the lyrics into the microphone.

As soon as he noticed that Levi wasn't singing along with them, Captain Erwin nudged him. However, it had no effect at the other man, so Erwin redirected his gaze at Hange. She glanced at Levi and scowled, elbowing him in the side.

Someone in the background shouted "Detective Ackerman, don't be shy!", and Hange elbowed him again, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Levi rolled his eyes and tugged Hange by the shirt down to his level, so he could reply to her. Whatever he had said made Hange threw her head back and laugh. For a moment, Levi was staring up at her, seemingly mesmerized, but then he shook his head and started singing. He was barely heard, since Captain Erwin's and Hange's voices were so much louder, but there was a soft look in his eyes and a small smile on his lips, as he watched his friends.

"I can't believe that it's the same Levi I know," Petra confessed after the video was finished.

"You should have seen him and detective Hange doing a power duet to “I Was Made For Loving You”. That was something,” Nifa giggled again. “Too bad I was too drunk to record it. So yeah,” she said, hiding the phone back into her pocket. "Detective Hange had an uncanny ability to make your partner more fun."

"Yeah, I wish I could see him act like this..."

"Oh gosh! I'm sorry for putting the mood down! Let's change the subject!" Nifa linked her hand with Petra's, as they started walking again. "Do you know any interesting gossip?"

"G-gossip?"

"Ah, I can see that you don't," Nifa shook her head in disappointment. "Alright then! Do you have a crush on someone from the precinct?"

"What!" Petra's cheeks flamed up. "Of course, not!"

"Liar," Nifa sang. "C’mon, you can tell me! I won't tell anyone!"

And before Petra could deny it any further, she noticed Oluo on the other side of the hallway. He noticed her too. Smiling happily, he hurriedly made his way to her and Nifa.

"Petra!" he greeted. "You didn't change your mind?"

"Of course, not," Petra assured him, ignoring Nifa's curious gaze.

"Awesome, I'll pick you up at seven!" Oluo’s smile grew wider. He waited for Petra to smile back and then left, still grinning from ear to ear.

"It looks like I've got my answer," Nifa's voice was full of smugness. "For how long have you been dating?"

"It's our first date," Petra revealed, deciding that it was easier to just tell Nifa everything she wanted to know.

"First date? How romantic! What are you going to wear?"

"Er," Petra glanced down at her dress. "I was actually going to wear this..."

"No!" Nifa's hands flew to her face. "You can't just come in your work clothes! Absolutely not! Change of plans," she announced, as she turned around, dragging Petra along with her. "We're going shopping."

"But! It's only three o'clock! Our shift has not ended!"

"Calm down," Nifa rolled her eyes. "No one will notice if we leave earlier. Besides, we've done a lot of work today. We deserve some rest."

"But—"

"No buts!" Nifa ordered with a strict face. "We need to hurry, you don't have much time left. It's your first date! Everything should be perfect!"

Petra surrendered with a sigh. Obviously, there was no point in arguing with Nifa. She obediently followed after her new friend.

***

"Look at you!" Nifa cooed, as she finished painting Petra's lips. "You're so pretty! Honestly, I'm starting to envy that Oluo guy. If the date ends up being horrible... well," she winked with a sly smile. "I can always make it better."

"Stop it!" Petra playfully smacked Nifa’s shoulder, blushing furiously.

"It's just an offer," Nifa shrugged. "But seriously, he'd be the biggest idiot in the world, if he doesn't ask you out on a second date," turning Petra around to face full-length mirror, Nifa smiled softly. "You look gorgeous, Petra."

"I..." Petra stared at her reflection, eyeing it critically. She wore a knee-length blue dress. It was simple, but the color accentuated her eyes nicely. Her hair was put up in a small bun with a few strands failing at the side of her face. She had to admit it - she looked good. "Thank you. It's all your doing."

"Nah, I didn't do anything."

"Don't say that!" Petra protested with a strict face. "You took me out for shopping, you helped me pick the dress, you even helped me with make-up and hair!"

"Alright, alright, I accept your gratitude," Nifa smirked cheekily. "And now I take my leave. Your date will be here soon," she turned around, walking out of Petra's room and heading to the front door.

"I had a lot of fun today," Petra admitted, while Nifa was putting on her coat. "We should do this more often."

"Absolutely," Nifa nodded in agreement. "Good luck with your date," she gave Petra a quick hug. "And be careful."

"Of course," Petra promised, returning the hug heartily. "Thank you once again."

"You really need to stop thanking me so much," Nifa scolded, but then smile was back on her face. She waved her hand. "Goodbye!"                                     

Petra closed the door after her, and then walked back to her bedroom. She checked herself in the mirror once again. She nodded to her reflection, more than satisfied with her attire. Then she grabbed her purse, putting phone, keys and lipstick inside. Her gaze darted to a drawer, where her gun was hidden. Maybe, she should take it? Petra almost refused this idea, normal people don't bring a gun on a date. But then again, normal people don't receive death threats.

No one would know that I have it, she tried to reason with herself, but it would make me feel safer.

Ignoring the sensible part of her, Petra swiftly put the gun inside. She closed the purse, and then the doorbell rang.                                               

She hurried to the front door, opening it. Oluo stood on the other side, holding a bouquet of daisies and smiling shyly.

"For you," he said, awkwardly handing her the flowers. He desperately avoided looking at her face. Petra smiled, charmed by his bashfulness.

"Thank you so much," she leaned in to give him a small peck on his cheek. The skin there immediately reddened. Petra giggled, as she took the flowers from his hands. Oluo's eyes instantly snapped to look at her.

He gasped.

"You look..." he cleared his throat, tugging nervously at the collar of his dark red shirt. "Good. Yes, v-very, um, good."

"You don't look so bad yourself," Petra looked him up and down, smirking slightly, when she saw that the blush on Oluo's face became a deeper shade of red, almost in tone to his shirt. She turned around to find a vase for the flowers. "Just a moment, please! I'm almost ready!"

"Just don't take too long," Oluo huffed. "We have a reservation."

The smile didn’t leave Petra’s face while she was putting the flowers into a vase. It seemed like the good old Oluo was back. Of course, she enjoyed watching his embarrassed face, but, as weird as it was, she liked his usual self much, much more.

Huh, Petra mused, as Oluo helped her put on a coat and she felt her heart rate increase, when their fingers brushed against each other, she really liked that idiot. Who could have thought?

***                                                                                                                           

"...And that's how I ended up cleaning the entirety of Erd's apartment," Oluo concluded, hanging his head in defeat.

“You really should stop making bets with him,” Petra rolled her eyes. “He’s clearly smarter than you.”

“Oi!” Oluo cried out, offended.

Looking at his pouting face, Petra started laughing. Gosh, she had never felt so relaxed while on a date. Usually, she was anxious, picking her words very carefully, worrying about her posture and make-up. But being on a date with Oluo was easy, talking and joking and teasing was almost natural. She didn’t remember the last time she enjoyed herself so much.

“So, now that I’ve told you all the embarrassing stuff that happened to me over the weekend,” Oluo drank from his glass of wine and looked expectantly at Petra. “What were you up to?”

“Well, you know,” she self-consciously tucked a stray lock of hair behind ear. “This and that.”

“C’mon!” he nudged her leg under the table. “You’re a detective now! And a partner of Levi Ackerman himself. Spill it out, Petra. How does it feel working with him? Is he as badass as everyone says he is?”

“He’s an ace detective, that’s for sure,” Petra said, remembering her first day and the way Levi cracked the case even before she went to question the suspect. "But sometimes..." Petra stared at her plate, mindlessly tossing the food around. "Sometimes I feel like he looks at me and sees someone else, you know? And he gets frustrated when that illusion is shattered."

"Oh. That must be tough for you," Oluo reached out and covered her hand with his.

"No, no, it's fine," Petra put on a smile. Oluo's gentle touch made her feel all fuzzy inside. "Despite all of this, I like working with Levi. He's really great at what he does. There is a lot I can learn from him."

"What about your case, though? I've heard it's really messed up."

"I..." Petra faltered, not knowing where to begin.

"You don't have to tell me, of course!" Oluo blurted out with a panicked expression, mistaking her uncertainty for unwillingness. "I mean, it's probably confidential and…"

"No, it's not that," Petra assured him. "You're not a civilian after all, and, besides, I trust you," Oluo's eyes softened at her words and he squeezed her hand a little tighter. Petra sent him a grateful look. "I just... it's so complicated, but maybe, you can help me. See something that I don't, you know?"

"Alright," Oluo nodded with determined face. "Tell me about it."

"So the whole case revolves around detective Hange Zoe? Levi's previous partner. On both scenes of murder, we found evidence that's directly linked to her... The glasses were confirmed to be hers, and Levi recognized her jacket that was draped over today's victim... And both scenes of crimes, the apartment complex and that little café, play a big role too. It’s clear that these places were important for Hange, and… for Levi. And!" Petra put her hands into her hair, getting more frustrated as she recalled more details from the case. "There are so many things that make no goddamn sense! Where do Zoe's things come from? What does the killer want from Levi?

Petra took a deep breath and then continued.

“And another thing! The first scene of the crime was meticulously cleaned, the woman had her throat slashed, but there was no sign of blood. The second was mostly clean, too, but blood wasn't cleaned out from the victim's clothes. So the killer goes out of his way to ensure that the scene of murder is clean, but he's clearly not obsessed with it. Then what is his deal? Is it just a habit? Why does he do that? Ah, just thinking about it makes my head spin! There is so much I don't understand."

Petra took a large gulp of wine, avoiding Oluo’s eyes. She probably told him too much, burdened him with her work problems. The first date shouldn’t go like this. You shouldn’t talk about murders. And to think that she didn’t even mention the most disturbing thing – the today’s note!

"Hey..." Oluo began to gently caress her hand. Petra looked up at him, and was shocked to see a proud smile on his face. "Don't beat yourself over it. You haven't made much progress, but you're trying. And, I think, you're asking all the right questions. Now all you need to do is to find answers."

"And that's the hardest part," Petra muttered bitterly.

"Maybe," Oluo agreed. "But you're smart, Petra, and, god knows, you're stubborn. You can do this. I believe in you."

"Oluo..." Petra whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank you so much. I... I really needed to hear it today."

"Oi, c'mon, don't start crying on me," he bent over the table, wiping tears from her face. "You’re not crying, because the date is so terrible, right?"

"No," Petra shook her head, chuckling. "The date is perfect."

"So that's a guaranteed yes for a second one?" Oluo asked with a smirk on his face that was clearly put there to mask his nervousness.

"You know what?" Petra smiled widely. "That's a guaranteed yes for the third date too."

"Yes!" Oluo pumped his fist in the air, attracting attention from all the patrons at the restaurant. Some looked at him with amusement, while other's eyes were filled with annoyance.

"Now let's eat our delicious dinner," Oluo told her, already stuffing his face with pasta. "Now that I'm not afraid that my awful table etiquette will push you away."

"Oluo," Petra smirked. "We've worked at the same office for years. I already know that you eat like a pig."

"And yet you agreed to a date with me."

"And yet I did," she answered with a sweet smile.

***

"Don't take me home," Petra said, as Oluo started the car. He froze with his hand still on the ignition key, staring at her with an opened mouth and wide eyes.

"No!" Petra cried out, as it dawned on her, how Oluo might have interpreted her words. "I need to go to the precinct, and not, um, you know…"

"Thank god," Oluo muttered, as he drove out of the parking lot and onto the street. "Not that I'm against it!" he quickly added. "But let's not move too fast, yeah?"

"Yes," Petra smiled, happy that she and Oluo were on a same page.

"Wait a minute," Oluo fixed her with a suspicious gaze. "What are you going to do at a precinct? It's almost nine pm!”

"I was hoping... to get some work done?" Petra answered sheepishly. "Your words... kinda motivated me."

“Well, of course, they did. I’m an awesome guy,” Oluo said with a pride smirk that made Petra roll her eyes. He was absolutely ridiculous. But, good lord, did she like him. “But shouldn’t you go home and rest? Can they even let you in at that time?”

“If I tell them I need to work, I’m sure the security will gladly let me in. Besides, I’m not going to spend the whole night there, don’t worry. I’ll just look over the autopsy report and then head home.”

“Promise?” Oluo briefly looked away from the road to give Petra a careful look.

“Promise,” she replied, feeling her heart skip a bit. Oluo’s concern, even it was really unnecessary, was extremely endearing.

“Fine,” Oluo huffed. “Go and do your job, you workaholic,” he stopped in front of a precinct and hurried to get out, so he could open the door for Petra.

“Text me, when you get home, okay?” he took Petra by the hand, helping her get out of the car.

“Of course,” she said, reaching out to press a brief kiss on his lips. “I’ll be waiting for our next date,” she whispered, enjoying the dazed look on his face.

Still smiling from ear to ear, Petra entered the precinct.

***

That same dreamy smile was still present on her lips, as Petra made her way through the precinct. She reached the hallway, where their office was.

And the smile disappeared instantly. A cautious, almost worried expression took its place.

There was a light coming underneath the door to their office.

Who could be inside at such hour? Was it Levi? But it was his day off.

It didn't make sense.

Petra slowly reached into her purse and took out a phone, her eyes never leaving that little shimmer of light. With trembling fingers she dialed Levi's number. One beep... two... Petra anxiously waited to hear Levi's ringtone on the other side of the door.

The hallway was silent.

"Petra?" Levi's voice in her ear made Petra jump. She hurriedly backed away, taking a few steps away from the door. "Petra, do you hear me? Is everything alright?"

"There is someone in our office right now," she whispered. "It's not you, is it?"

"What the fuck are you doing at the precinct at night?" Levi asked angrily.

“I wanted to do some work…”

“Jesus—” it was obvious that Levi was pissed and wanted to yell at her, but he took a deep breath, calming himself down. "Doesn't matter now," he added in his normal voice. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Wait for me and don't go in there, understood?"

"Y-yes," Petra answered shakily.

"Don't do anything stupid." Levi warned and then ended the call.

Putting the phone back into the purse, Petra carefully took out a gun.

Levi would be there in ten minutes. It wasn't that long. She could wait for him. It would be a smart choice.

Unfortunately, Petra wasn't feeling particularly smart tonight. She gripped the gun more securely and quietly made her way towards the door. The clicking could be heard inside, as though someone was typing on a computer.

Petra narrowed her eyes, feeling angry. She just couldn't let some stranger, probably a criminal, go through their stuff. It was illegal. And her job was to protect the law. So ignoring her trembling knees, Petra busted the door open and immediately aimed her gun at the intruder.

Their face was obscured by strands of hair, as they stared intently at the computer screen.

"Freeze!" Petra shouted. Thankfully, her voice didn't waver.

It didn't, however, have much of an effect on the stranger. They continued typing something with an impressive speed. They didn't spare even a single glance in Petra's direction.

"I said freeze!" she repeated with more force.

"And what happens if I don't?" they asked in a deep voice, still not lifting their face. "Will you shoot me?"

"Breaking into detective's office is illegal!"

"Technically," the intruder finally looked up. Petra gasped as she took a good look on their face. The hand with a gun fell limply at her side. "It was my office too. Still is, considering that my desk is unoccupied."

Unbelievable. Impossible.

She looked a little different from the woman on the photo Petra found in Levi's desk. She looked older and more tired. There were wrinkles on her face. Her shoulders were slumped, as though an invisible force was dragging her down. There were deep, almost black circles under her eyes— well, eye. Her left one was covered with a black patch.

But even with all those changes, there was no doubt in Petra's mind as to who was sitting behind Levi’s desk.

"...D-detective Zoe?" Petra uttered, staring at Hange with wide eyes.

"Oh, they still remember me in here," Hange noted with a self-satisfied grin. "That's flattering."

"Y-you're alive?"

Hange chuckled, her eye sparkling with amusement. "You have excellent observation skills, detective."

"B-but! How?!" Petra cried out, ignoring the jab.

"Ah, that's quite a boring story. A really long one too, and, unfortunately, I'm in a hurry."

"Wait! You can't leave just yet! Levi— y-you have to see him. He'll be so happy to find out that you're still alive!"

The smile slipped from Hange's lips instantly.

"No," she said coldly. "He can't see me. And you can't tell him that you've met me, Petra."

"How do you know my name?" Petra asked with a deep, suspicious frown. She was sure she didn't introduce herself.

Hange turned her face away. "I know a lot of things," she nervously fixed her glasses. "I... watch over him."

"So you still care about Levi!" Petra pointed an accusing finger at her. "Then why don't you want to meet him?"

"I have my reasons," she sounded strained, almost desperate. It seemed like— seemed like Hange wasn't trying to convince Petra. She was trying to convince herself.

It was obvious that Hange wanted to reunite with Levi. Petra could see that desire in the poorly hidden pain at the bottom of her brown eye. In the hard line of her mouth. In her palms that squeezed the edge of Levi's desk so hard her knuckles turned white.

And it was obvious that there was something keeping her away from acting on that desire. Some conspiracy Petra couldn't even begin to understand. Some plot, set in motion long before Petra became a detective. Possibly even before Hange's ‘death’. But she didn't care about that. Nothing mattered for Petra as much as the sadness in Levi's eyes and her wish to make him happy.

Besides, whether Hange wanted to meet him or not, it wasn't important anymore. That choice was made the moment Petra crossed the threshold.

"Levi will be here soon," Petra stared straight at Hange. "I called him before entering the office."

"No!" Hange's face twisted with panic. "Why would you do that? Fuck, I need to go," she glanced back at the computer, typed a few more words and then rose to her feet.

She wanted to leave. Petra couldn't allow it.

She raised her gun, aiming it at Hange.

"He misses you so much," Petra whispered softly, trying to plead with Hange. "Please, just let him see you. Let him know that you're alive."

"No, I can't, no, not now," Hange ran a shaking hand through her hair. "I have to go."

She took a step forward, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that Petra's gun was trained at her.

"I can't let you go," Petra firmly planted her legs, staring up at Hange defiantly.

"What?" Hange lifted an eyebrow, giving Petra an unimpressed look. "Are you going to shoot me?"

"I won't hurt you," Petra promised. "But I'll do whatever it takes to make you stay."

"Oh, Petra," Hange shook her head. "You're a sweet, sweet soul. And it pains me to do this, but if you don't let me through, I'll have to fight you. And I will hurt you."

Petra anticipated that answer. She also knew that in a fight against Hange Zoe, she didn't have a single chance. It wasn't her wide shoulders, or muscles that were showing even beneath the oversized green shirt. It was years and years of experience that separated them. Hange was skilled, she was smart.

But Petra didn't have to win this fight, just hold out until Levi arrives.

Hange moved fast, so fast Petra was barely able to take a fight stance. She tossed the gun onto the floor and raised her arms, thinking that Hange would hit her in the face. But Hange approached her and laid her hand on Petra's shoulder. She was going to throw her onto the ground, Petra realized, but it was too late to move away. Hange lifted her leg, meaning to kick Petra.

She wasn't quick enough.

Their struggle was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Hange tensed immediately, squeezing Petra's shoulder painfully.

"No." she whispered, her eyes filled with panic.

"Petra!" Levi shouted behind the door. “Where are you?”

"I'm here!" she screamed back, watching Hange carefully. All color left her face and her breath quickened, as she watched the door.

"Petra!" Levi threw the door open. "I told you not to fucking go… inside."

Levi's hand remained on a doorknob, as he froze on a spot, his eyes wide and mouth open.

"P-petra?" after several seconds of looking at Hange, he turned to her. His gaze, which usually held so much indifference, was now filled with implore. Petra helplessly stared back, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what Levi needed to hear.

"It's me," Hange said, understanding what Levi needed without words. "It’s really me."

"Hange," Levi breathed out. His voice was filled with so much relief and happiness. He ran to her, almost knocking her to the ground. Instantly his arms circled around Hange, as he held her in an almost suffocating embrace.

It must have been painful, Petra thought. But Hange didn't seem to care. She wrapped her hands around Levi just as tightly.

“Please tell me this is not a dream,” Levi asked in a shaking whisper. He lifted his head to stare at Hange. “Please tell me you’re really here.”

“I’m here, Levi,” Hange replied, almost choking as she said his name. “I’m here, with you.”

"You are alive,” Levi spoke fervently in her shirt. "Hange, you really are alive, I can’t believe it."

Hange moved one hand to Levi's head, stroking his hair gently. "You can't get rid of me that easily, shorty."

Levi softly chuckled, not making a single move to untangle himself from Hange.

They would probably stay like this for a very long time, Petra concluded. They more than deserved it. And they also deserved some privacy.

So Petra picked up the gun that was still lying on the ground and then quietly walked out of the room.

Before she closed the door, she threw one last glance at the still embracing couple.

So that was Hange Zoe, huh? A person, who can make Levi come completely undone with just her presence?

Petra smiled to herself. These two suffered for so long. She was glad that they finally managed to find each other again.

[thebluenebula]

Ashleigh Wayne Fic AU Masterlist

Kitten

~1600 words

Major Characters: Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle (Catwoman), Carrie Kelley, Ashleigh Wayne

Minor Characters: Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Harper Row, Duke Thomas

Selina finally returns to the Manor after her 'vacation' with the intent of finally meeting Bruce's newest kitten. Unfortunately for her, the kitten isn't quite as eager to meet her.

Selina climbed in the open window, and quietly crept across the room until a menacing growl caused her to stop. "It's just me, Ace."

The dog took a final look at her, then went right back to sleep at bottom of the bed. Selina discarded her goggles, and gloves, before crawling in under the covers, and wrapping her arms around Bruce. He flinched at the touch of her hands. "Cold night?"

"Freezing."

"Where have you been?"

"Here, there, everywhere."

"I've been worried about you."

"Why didn't you send out a search party then?"

"Barry still complains about the last time I sent him to find you."

"I did warn him," she chuckled. "I heard our new kitten arrived. When are you going to introduce us?"

"She was in the living room when I came up to bed if you'd like to go down to her."

"I think I'll wait till morning, and what exactly are you doing in bed this early, it's barely past midnight?"

"Alfred said if I don't sleep for at least six hours he'd hide the keys of the Batmobile."

"Still listening to daddy's orders."

"Would you disobey Alfred?"

"Do I look like I have a death wish?" She lay into his chest. "Anyway, I'm too tired."

"Then how about we get some of that sleep he suggested?"

"That sounds good to me."

When Selina woke the next morning Bruce was still sound asleep. She chose not to disturb him, instead she got dressed, choosing to rob his clothes instead of using her own, and headed for the kitchen where she found Carrie, and Ash eating cereal. She crept up behind Carrie, and hugged her. "Hello, my little Kitten."

"Selina," she excitedly cried, "I didn't know you were coming over today."

"I thought I'd surprise you." She looked up at Ash, who was staring at her. "So you're Bruce's newest Kitten, I've been excited to meet you"

"Hi," she awkwardly replied.

"I'm Selina," she said, holding out her hand, which Ash cautiously shook.

"It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." She headed to the fridge, and grabbed a yoghurt. When she turned back, Ash had disappeared. "Where'd she go?"

"Bolted as soon as you turned your back, she does that a lot," Carrie explained.

"It's bad enough with Bruce," she muttered as she sat across from Carrie. "Why can't she just be like you?"

"Like me?"

"You, quite literally, jumped into my arms when I first met you."

"I was excited to see you."

"You still jump into my arms."

"I'm still excited to see you."

"And I love that." She reached across the table, and patted Carrie's head. On her way back, she quickly grabbed Carrie's spoon, and used it to dig into her own yoghurt.

"Hey!"

"You weren't using it."

"Yes I was," she protested, lunging across the table. Selena dodged, and took off running, stuffing her mouth with yoghurt as she went.  "Come back with that," she shouted, taking chase.

- - - - -

Selena slumped down onto the bed beside Bruce. "Bad day?"

"Bad week, I've been trying to get to know Ash, but I can barely get two words in before she just disappears. Where does she even go?"

"You can't force her to like you."

"Oh yes I can, I'm sure Ivy wouldn't mind lending me some of her pheromones," she joked.

"That's cheating."

"I never was one for following the rules."

"You promised not to douse anymore of my children in pheromones, not after last time."

"That was an accident."

Bruce chuckled. "We're having a movie night tommorow, maybe you could try then."

"I already thought of that, Carrie says she'll just hide behind one of her siblings for the whole thing."

"Probably, but she's usually sleepy by the end of it, and that generally makes her easier to talk to."

"Is there a reason she doesn't like me?"

"No, she just can be... odd with people. She was actually really excited at the thought of meeting you."

"Did you try talking to her about me?"

"Yeah, but she didn't really answer my questions, just kind of ungracefully danced around them."

"Has she met Talia yet?"

"No, but I expect she'll appear around soon, she usually does."

- - - - -

It was a small movie night, with half the kids out of town, or otherwise occupied, only Bruce, Selena, Jason, Cass, Steph, Harper, Carrie, Duke and Ash were actually present.

Steph won the draw, and chose the movie, Twilight, much to Jay's displeasure, the others suspected that was her main reason behind picking it, but didn't question it.

About halfway through the movie Jay gave up watching it, and left despite Bruce's demands to stay. Ash quickly took his spot beside Bruce, and lay her head in his lap. It didn't take long for Ash to fall sound asleep.

Bruce gestured for Selina to come over. She did, leaving Carrie alone on the other couch, much to her displeasure. Bruce snuck out from under Ash, and let Selena take his place, laying Ash's back in place. "I'll be back in a little."

"You sure she'll be okay with this?"

"Of course, she lies like this with Kate all the time."

"I'm not Kate."

"She'll love it, promise," he insisted as he made his way out, stopping to cover Harper, and Duke, who were snuggled up together, sound asleep, with a blanket. Carrie waited till he was gone, before huffing across the room, and snuggling in under the covers with them.

The movie ended, and Cass, and Steph left, leaving just Selena. "Kitten, are you awake?"

Carrie lifted her head from Harper's shoulder. "Yeah."

"Coming over," she asked, patting the seat the far side of her. Carrie carefully left Harper, and made her way to Selina, laying beside her, and snuggling her head in beside Ash's. Selena gently scratched the top of her head. "I love you, Kitten."

"I love you too, Mom."

"Mom? It's not too often I hear that."

Carrie grumbled something unintelligible in response.

"I will always love you, Kitten, so, so much."

"I know."

"I know you know, but I still love telling you." She leant in close to Carrie, and whispered. "You'll always be my favourite. Now go to sleep, Love."

"You're my favourite too, Mom."

"I better be, I'm the only mom you have."

Carrie soon fell asleep, her fears, and jealousy quelled for now, though Selina didn't sleep, nor did she attempt to. Bruce had told her how Ash almost always woke at least once a night, and it didn't take too long before it occurred.

Ash raised her head a little. "Bruce?"

"Hello," Selina said, causing Ash to shoot up.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know how-"

Selena shushed her, and gently pushed her back down. "It's alright, just rest."

Ash glanced to Carrie, and settled back in beside her. "How did I get here?"

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not."

"Ashleigh, do you not like me?"

She looked up to Selina. "Of course I like you, you're Catwoman, you're awesome."

"Then why have you been avoiding me?"

Ash thought for moment, before choosing to be honest. "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about you."

"What do you mean? How you're supposed to feel about me?"

"Every one keeps telling me that you're an amazing mother, that'll you'll be an amazing mother to me, but I don't know if I want... a new mother, so to speak."

"I am, at least a little bit, like a mother to everyone of Bruce's kids, and if I can be that for you, I'll happily be, but if that's not what you want, you can think me as just a friend, you don't have to think of me in anyway, but just know that I love you, no matter what you think of me."

"Why?"

"Why? Well, you're my boyfriend's child, and he has a great eye for lovable children, and from the many, many stories he's told me about you, I know when I get you know you, I will love you."

"I don't know how I want to think of you, part of me wants to think of you like what they tell me. Is that strange?

"Not at all, you don't have to decide how you feel about me straight away, and I certainly don't expect you to. How about you just get to know me, and ill get to know you, and we can figure how we feel about each other together?"

She smiled. "Okay."

"Now its time to get some rest, Sleepy Head."

"Alright." She attempted to get up, but Selina forced her down again.

"Ah, ah, ah. You can lay right beside Carrie if you want, I know she won't stir until morning."

"It's okay?"

"Of course, it's always okay, you can sleep in beside me when I'm here, you can come to me with your troubles, or you can just come to me if you need some attention, everyone needs that from time to time."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, now rest, we can talk again tomorrow."

Ash shut her eyes, and was soon asleep beside her sister. Not too long after that, Bruce returned, sitting beside Selina, careful not to sit on his daughter's legs. "You talked to her?"

"We talked," she confirmed, running a hand through Ash's hair.

"Good news, I'll take it."

"Of course."

"I see you also picked up another 'kitten' as well."

"You know Carrie, she gets jealous."

"You think she'll be okay?"

"If she loves Ash half as much as I think she does, yeah, she'll be fine.

"Good. I guess you're staying here for the night."

"I don't think I have much of choice."

"No, you don't, which I guess means I've got to stay here as well."

"You better."

Bruce found another blanket, and tossed it across the trio, before sneaking his way in beside Harper, and Duke on the other couch.

The six slept soundly that night, none stirring till near noon, and when they did, a lovely breakfast had been prepared, courtesy of Alfred.

This fic has changed a lot more from the original concept then most of my fics do, but I'm so glad it's done. It feels really important to my overall story. It's brings in a lot of things I wanted, Selina beginning to be a mother figure to Ash, Selina + Carrie having an incredibly close Mother/Daughter bond, and the fact that Carrie get jealous easily, in particular when it comes to Selina + Harper. Anyway I hope you enjoyed - TBN