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cherienymphe · 3 years

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Joke’s On You (Joker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, knife play, blood play, murder, violence,

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary: you’re a part time thief who keeps getting in the Joker’s way. What starts out as rivals quickly turns into something hot and heavy, and before you know it, you’re J’s girl. Whether you want to be or not {based off of this headcanon}

The first time you ever come face to face with the Joker, the clown king himself, is during one of the first night’s you first started to execute your grand idea. You went through a klepto phase when you were a kid, but you never expected you’d return to it, and definitely not on a bigger scale like this.

It wasn’t like you were homeless or right on the poverty line. You had money, quite a bit in fact. One of the perks of being a stripper in the most popular club in Gotham, but there came a certain thrill from stealing from the rich in this city. Sure, you took their money on the stage, did everything you could to make them empty their pockets, but taking their money right out from under their nose was different.

You’re not sure when you came up with the bright idea, but you knew that if you wanted to keep this up and stay out of prison, you had to get smart about this. That was where the Joker came in. That clown ran this city, and you knew that with him around, no one would dare to even notice you. If you made your hits the same time as him, you could get in and out to no one’s knowledge.

It was a solid plan.

Until it wasn’t.

You almost ruin his plans to send a bank up into flames, and your eyes briefly meet his cold green ones before you’re taking off. You half expected to hear the sound of gunshots, even expected to get hurt or worse, but you can hear him telling his thugs to stand down. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by your presence, no real threat, and you’re unsure if you should be offended or not.

You had never seen the man himself up close before, and you’re shocked to realize that he’s taller than you imagined. More intimidating than you imagined. Despite the fact that he barely paid you any mind, you can’t help feeling like he’s going to break into your apartment and slit your throat. You’re a petty thief, nothing like the big criminals in this city, and your run in with him spooks you. It takes a long time for you to fall asleep that night.

You quickly put it behind you though and tell yourself that you just have to be more careful from here on out. It soon becomes obvious that that’s easier said than done. You hadn’t meant to get in his way when he was taking the mayor hostage. It was an honest mistake when you almost kept him from breaking some other danger to society out of Arkham, but the nail in your coffin finally comes when you do prevent him from robbing a bank truck.

You barely ducked in time as a bullet came flying past your head. You’re shaken up, but you manage to force yourself to get the hell out of there before the cops showed up and before the Joker took another shot. You should have known that he was going to be expecting you. The Joker was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them.

You walk right into a trap, and you’re in the bank vault, hands full of money when you feel a sharp tug on your hair. You swallow down a yelp as you’re yanked back into a bare chest, and your eyes widen when a hand curls around your throat. You may not be the best villain in the world, but you’re one that can defend yourself, and the walls of the vault shake as you fight back.

He’s stronger than he looks, but you’re stronger than you look, and you both realize this when he has a gun pressed to your forehead while you have a knife at his throat. Your heart is hammering inside of your chest because not only are you once again face to face with the Joker himself, but he’s seconds away from killing you. You feel like you’re about to throw up, and he’s clearly amused.

He tilts his head at you, red lips parting to reveal a shiny grin, a laugh bubbling in his throat as he presses the barrel of the gun even further into your skin. His purple coat hangs off of him, pale chest heaving and that’s how you know that despite his grin, he’s irritated. Maybe even mad.

“…and what do they call you?”

His voice is deep, and that takes you by surprise. A lot of things about the infamous criminal are taking you by surprise.

“What does it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway, right?”

He hums, stepping closer with a sneer.

“I haven’t quite figured that one out yet…maybe I will when you tell me your name…”

“Well, I haven’t quite figured out what I want to be called,” you honestly told him.

No one but him and his goons knew about you, so you had never counted on anyone else knowing about you either. The thought of an alias never crossed your mind.

“Trying to steal my shine or something? You want to be the big dog around here?”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, and if he had eyebrows, you were sure he’d be raising one at you right now with the look he gave you.

He narrowed his eyes, and in one movement, he ripped your mask from your eyes, making them widen. He looked down his nose at you, taking in your all black attire before finally resting his eyes on your face.

“…or don’t tell me…you’re one of those girlies who thinks she can run around with me?”

You frowned at him, and he continued.

“I take it you’re a big fan.”

His tone was mocking, and you had the urge to spit in his face, but you knew that would surely put a bullet in your head, so you simply rolled your eyes.

“Hardly. With you around, no one will even look my way. Your taste for the dramatics allows me to stay below the radar,” you told him.

He hummed at that, tilting his head from side to side as he weighed your explanation in his mind.

“That’s smart, and I gotta hand it to ya, I didn’t think you were smart.”

Your frown deepened at his backhanded compliment, but it was quickly wiped from your face when he tightened his hold on his gun, and your eyes widened.

“Smart, but not smart enough to stay out of my way-.”

He was interrupted as the building shook, and you both turned as gunshots reached your ears. While he was distracted, you slipped out of his grip, ducking in time to miss a bullet before turning the corner. A recognizable shadow passed over the walls, and you ducked into a nearby hallway just as the winged vigilante himself met the Joker as he stepped into the hall.

The air hitting your face reminded you that your mask was gone, and you quietly made your way to the back exit as the sound of fighting and gunshots grew fainter. You released a sigh of relief when you made it outside, and although you didn’t have anything to show for your excursion, at least you had your life.

A thin layer of sweat clings to your skin as you step down off of the stage, feet aching in your heels. A coworker of yours winks at you as she takes your place on the stage, and you wish her luck. Customers were being a bit stingy today, and considering your last heist granted you with nothing, your lack of cashflow today had you more annoyed than usual.

Sure, it was a Tuesday afternoon, but it was still the hottest club in Gotham. Customers of all types of backgrounds frequented the place, and although the old money crowd practically lived here, you had a love hate relationship with their kind. They tended to be the stingiest with their money despite having more than you could ever dream of.

“What time are you off?”

You turned to another girl who worked at the place, Mandy, and threw her a grim look.

“12.”

She grimaced, blue eyes filled with pity as she shook her head.

“Sheesh. Well, that’s what happens when you’re the best dancer in this place,” she said with a shrug. “Your demand is high.”

“High demand and low pay. What a treat,” you sarcastically replied.

She chuckled, but she quickly swallowed it down, eyes glancing past you. The club was already loud, but there seemed to be an uptake in noise, and you turned to find the cause. You froze where you stood, eyes wide and lips parting at the group of people who just stepped into the place.

All of the men varied in size and shape, all dressed in black as they made their way inside like they owned the place. You supposed that in a way they did. Anyone following the footsteps of the Joker probably felt like he could get away with anything. The man in question led the bunch, strutting past patrons with a dark look in his eye, green hair contrasting against his dark red shirt.

You quickly turned back around, squeezing your eyes shut as Mandy let out a low whistle.

“I haven’t seen him step foot in here in forever,” she commented.

You looked to her with a confused frown.

“What?”

“Oh, yeah. You’ve only been here for what, half a year? The Joker used to come in here all the time. They’d get a bit rowdy but what is that when he’s the highest paying customer?”

She shrugged, reaching for a tray of drinks, completely unaware of your internal dilemma. It was almost time to get back on stage.

“Have fun,” she purred, walking past you.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you stewed over what you should do. Sure, you were a thief in your spare time, but you couldn’t lose this job. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t walk out of here, so you straightened your shoulders and made your way back to your stage.

You kept an eye out for pale skin and green hair, and you were thankful to find him far on the other side of the room. He and his crew were occupied by another dancer, Mandy serving them drinks. You were thankful and carefully stepped onto the stage.

As usual, you attracted a nice sized crowd, and you made sure to keep your face turned away as you moved around the pole. You were pleased to find that this crowd was more generous with their money, but your satisfaction was short lived when your turned to find your boss gesturing for you to come off the stage. You were confused but did so anyway. He nervously scratched his dark beard as you approached, and you had a sinking feeling in your gut for some reason.

“What is it?”

He grumbled and jerked his head towards the other side of the building, and you hesitantly looked over his shoulder. The Joker’s goons were having a good time tossing money at the dancer on stage, a few of them clearly drunk. The green-haired man, however, wasn’t partaking in the festivities. His unreadable gaze was focused on you, and your heart sank when he didn’t break the stare. You were forced to when your boss spoke.

“He wants a private session with you,” the older man mumbled, and you’d be dumb to miss the fear and concern in his voice.

You internally cursed.

“You’re kidding…”

“…’fraid not. He was very clear in his…request,” he responded.

You both knew that it wasn’t a request. The Joker never requested anything, and you briefly closed your eyes, positive that this was going to be your last night on earth. Your boss placed his hand on your shoulder, gaze sympathetic…and pitying.

“Just do what he says, alright?”

He wasn’t just telling you that to make more money, but to keep you from becoming the clown’s next victim. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your fate was already sealed. With a nod, you strutted past him and made your way to the other side of the room. The Joker’s expression didn’t change as you approached him, and you nervously swallowed. His cold green eyes seemed to follow the gesture, and you took a deep breath.

“Someone request a private room?”

Again, he said nothing, simply tilting his head to the side as his trailed his eyes over your scantily clad form. Some of his posse was still enamored with the dancer before them, but the rest had turned to not so discreetly eye you. They all looked away when the green-haired man stood, and your eyes fell to the sliver of skin that peeked through the top of his shirt, unable to hold his gaze.

“Right this way…”

You didn’t hear his footsteps, but you could feel his presence behind you as you led the way to the back where the private rooms were located. The walk was quiet, thick with tension, and you wondered if it was too late for you to start saying your prayers.

You went in first, blinking at the red glow of the room that came from the neon lights. You were shaking, stomach churning as the door clicked shut behind him. You turned to tell him to get it over with when his hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to swallow your words. You let out a pained squeak, eyes watering, but his lips swallowed any other noise you threatened to make.

Your eyes were wide as he roughly kissed you, shock coursing through you while his mouth moved against yours. You stumbled back in your heels, but he quickly followed, teeth nipping at you so violently that you tasted blood. You wanted to tell him that this wasn’t that kind of club. This was not in your job description and was not allowed, but you remembered your boss’ words and wondered if he knew that this was what the man wanted?

Even still, you couldn’t go through with this, but his tattooed hands were ripping at your attire before you had the chance to voice what you wanted to say. Your lips were finally free to tell him off, but the only thing that came out was a yelp when his teeth sank into your shoulder. The pain you felt was quickly overshadowed by the pleasure that warmed your stomach when his fingers brushed over you.

You pushed against his chest, but his other hand grabbed your wrist, spinning you around so that your back was pressed to his chest. It happened so quickly that you didn’t have time to ponder what was happening until he was already inside of you. One hand was tangled in your hair, face pressed into the seat of the sofa as broken moans escaped your trembling lips.

His free hand was pressed into the skin between your shoulder blades, holding you down while his hips snapped into you over and over again. He was far from gentle, but every harsh stroke only seemed to stroke that fire inside of you. Your lashes were fluttering as he thrust into you, eyes rolling while you tried to make sense of everything.

You could feel his nails pressing into your back as he pinned you down, and your own scraped against the fabric of the couch while choked moans climbed out of your throat. This was far from how you expected your day to go. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that this man was trying to kill you. You fluttered around his unrelenting cock and tried to remember why that was a bad thing.

He let out what sounded like a growl above you, the fabric of his pants pressing into your skin as he ground against you, and his hand in your hair moved to the back of your neck just as the tightening in your stomach snapped. You came around him with an embarrassing scream, going limp beneath him as he fucked you through your climax, diving headfirst into his own.

You collapsed the minute he let you go, vision blurry and throat sore as you heard him zip his pants. You were still shaking, and he was already gathering himself together like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just fucked you delirious. You moved to stand, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but you collapsed back onto the couch.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you heard a low chuckle in his throat. Either way, you didn’t get to ask him because the sound of the door slamming shut reached your ears seconds later.

The next time you ran into that stupid clown, you took great satisfaction in striking him square in the face. You didn’t care that he was surrounded by his band of hired muscle nor that you were currently standing in the middle of a jewelry store, alarm blaring in your ears almost painfully.

He gestured for the men around him to continue looting the place, seeing as they had paused to take in the scene. You knew they would have killed you without hesitation had he told them to. You glared at him as he grinned at you, bat perched on his shoulder.

“We’ve gotta stop running into each other like this,” he lowly said.

“That was for the last time we ‘ran into each other’,” you sneered. “I don’t care who you are, you don’t get to-.”

“Consider it my way of letting you get off easy.”

He chuckled at his play on words, but you weren’t amused in the slightest.

“Get off easy? Are you even crazier than everyone thinks?”

His grin was gone in a flash, and he stepped towards you, tapping his bat against his shoulder as he leaned in. His lips were parted as his eyes bore into your own, and you forced yourself to stand your ground as the scent of him invaded your nose.

“If you recall,” he slowly began. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

You swallowed, jaw clenching as he tapped his finger against your nose.

“The plan was to put a bullet in that pretty little mouth of yours. Does that…ring any bells?”

You pressed your lips together, glancing away as he let out a breathy chuckle.

“Fucking you brought me more satisfaction than killing you ever could,” he deeply said.

You felt heat rise to your face, and he tilted his head, lips brushing against your own as he spoke.

“So…I suggest you keep me satisfied…”

His coat flew behind him as he spun away, stomping towards one of his men to bark orders at them. Anger and humiliation coursed through you as you stomped outside, and you narrowed your eyes as the sound of police sirens drew nearer. With a sneer, you grabbed the knife in your holster before slashing the tires on his van.

That kept you satisfied throughout the rest of the night, but you paid for it dearly the next day at the club. This time, he hadn’t even waited until you were in the room. His hand had curled around the back of your neck as soon as you got to the door, forcing you inside as soon as he opened it.

You had stumbled in your heels, falling to your knees, and he was there before you could even rise. His hand was on your neck the entire time he slammed into you, the carpet scraping against your back. You could hardly breathe, let alone moan as he had his way with you, and you knew that he was genuinely angry this time, and you wondered how he managed to escape the police.

He was punishing you for your little stunt, but God did you love it. Your hands fisted into his bright red button down as he slid into your soaked walls, trying to pull him closer. You heard him hum every time you clenched around his throbbing member, the sound of your arousal reaching your ears. You should have been embarrassed at how wet you were, but the Joker seemed to enjoy it just fine, and besides. You saw no reason to pretend.

Like the last time, he was righting himself as soon as he was done while you lay on the floor, still trying to catch your breath. You let out a soft chuckle as he slammed the door behind him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t even able to talk in the morning.

This little game between the two of you became something of a regular occurrence. You’d make your hits when and where he did his to avoid exposure, and sometimes things would go wrong on his end. Some mishaps were genuine accidents, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the way he’d take out his frustration on you.

He fucked you like an animal, and you loved it because sometimes you couldn’t even form words afterwards. And best of all, he wasn’t trying to kill you anymore…just your vagina.

One day, he didn’t leave as soon as he was done. He stood over you, watching as you fought to control your breathing. When you realized that he wasn’t making any moves to leave, you peeled your eyes open to look up at him from your place on the couch.

“…what?”

You nervously sat up as he dug into his pocket, eyes widening when he pulled out the shiniest bracelet you’d ever seen. He dangled it in front of your face, a low hum escaping him as you admired it.

“Saw this shiny little number in the display. It had my little thief written all over it…”

He jerked it away when you reached for it, so you reached higher, gasping when he closed his free hand around your wrist. You watched as he snapped the expensive piece of jewelry around your arm, and you brushed your fingers over it the minute he let you go.

You were forced to pull your eyes away from it though when he harshly gripped your chin, pulling your head up so that you were looking at him. His green eyes bore into your own, face unreadable as he pressed his red lips together.

“You like it, doll face?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin, and you nodded.

“I love it,” you told him, unaware of the implications behind the gesture.

You started showing up to work with all kinds of new things. A new pair of earrings, a necklace that wasn’t that before, even some new heels that didn’t hurt your feet as much. You figured it was just a perk of fucking the king of Gotham, of keeping him satisfied.

You didn’t know that it went beyond mere satisfaction and thankful gestures.

It was a late night, or early morning depending on how you looked at it. The club was almost at its peak, the early hours of the morning being your busiest. You hadn’t seen J in a few days, but it wasn’t unusual. The man was basically running an empire.

You were servicing a client, a regular who could never stick to one dancer. He had a habit of hopping between the ladies at the club, and it looked like this week, he’d chosen you. The loud music filled your ears as you slid your hands over his shoulder, thighs brushing his as you danced on him. The bass from the music made your body vibrate, and your eyes fell closed as you fisted one of your hands into your hair, chest pushed forwards.

The man had already given you a handsome sum of money, and you knew that if you put on your best show, there was plenty more where that came from. The loud music prevented you from hearing the rise in voices as a new patron entered the club. It also prevented you from taking note of the worried chatter that had only just started to emerge, but it didn’t drown out the sound of a gunshot that you flinching.

However, you didn’t open your eyes because of the gunshot. You opened your eyes at the feel of droplets landing all over your face, hair, and clothes. You faintly registered the sound of screams surrounding you as people fled from the club, tripping over one another. You stumbled back, frozen in place as you stood up straight, hands raised in front of you as you stared at your dead customer in shock.

He was dead.

That much was more than clear, but you were having a hard time wrapping your head around it. Heavy footsteps slowly made their way over to you, and you hesitantly looked over, terrified eyes connecting with familiar green ones. His eyes were wild and crazed, green hair pushed back away from his face, gun swinging back and forth on his finger. He looked good in his all white suit, not a spot of blood on him.

You wished you could say the same.

“Are you insane?” you screamed, legs trembling.

“Well, that’s what they tell me.”

You frowned at him as he threw his head back and cackled, and you shook your head, fighting to clear it.

“Why did you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

He abruptly stopped laughing, slowly lowering his head to gaze at you. His lips parted into a mocking grin.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I leave town on business for a few days, and I come back to find my girl practically screwing some punk for the whole club to see,” he slowly said, voice low and threatening.

Your anger kicked you into gear, and you stomped towards him, a frown on your face.

“I am not your girl, and even if I was…this is my job! You know this is my job-!”

Your words were cut off, and you winced as he tightened his hold on your neck. Your feet were barely grazing the floor as he walked forwards, forcing you back. You dug your fingers into his arm, hitting at him with your free hand, but he acted as if you weren’t even fighting back.

“Those nice earrings you’re wearing says you’re my girl…”

Your stomach churned as you began to realize the serious meaning behind his gifts.

“…that pretty little bracelet on your arm says you’re my girl…”

You looked around in fear, realizing that the club was completely empty save for you, the Joker, and his thugs. You kicked at him as he forced your back onto the stage, his firm body pressing down on yours. His hold was still tight, and you felt tears spring forth as you fought to breathe.

“…and I say you’re my girl. Understand?”

You gave a shaky nod, but it wasn’t enough for him. He lifted you by the neck before slamming you back down, making you wince, and a slow grin spread along his face, revealing his shiny teeth.

“I’ve got a whole lotta toys, sweetheart. I earned those toys. I took those toys. Those toys are mine…”

You watched as he pointed his gun at the dead man still slumped in the chair.

“…and I don’t like people touching my toys.”

You didn’t get a chance to ponder on this turn of events before his lips were harshly pressing against yours. He slammed the gun down next to your head, hands pulling at your attire, and the tears finally spilled over as you fought against him. You weren’t alone, and this was a new level of humiliation that you weren’t okay with.

A man was dead. In fact, you were still covered in his blood, and the Joker’s men were just behind him, intently listening to everything, no doubt. His grip was harsh as he took hold of your wrists, slamming them down beside you. He let one go to grab his gun, pressing it into your lips as you shook.

“You gonna be a good girl? Or do I have to use this again?”

His voice was calm despite the violent implications behind his words, and you shakily shook your head.

He was rougher with you than he had ever been before. Biting you, choking you, and holding you far too tight. Part of you felt like it was done on purpose, not only so you’d get the idea, but so that the rest of his crew would get that you were his too. You cried as he pressed your cheek down onto the stage floor, hips snapping against your backside while harsh grunts left his lips.

You couldn’t handle staring at the Joker’s latest victim while he forced himself into you, so you squeezed your eyes shut. His other hand dug into your hip so harshly, you knew it was going to leave a bruise. As the minutes drew on, it seemed like his ministrations were becoming rougher, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say the sound of your sobs were egging him on.

His grip on your hair when he came had more tears springing to your eyes, and you flinched when his lips brushed your ear.

“Clean yourself up…”

Having only been half on the stage, you collapsed to the floor when he let you go. Your hair and makeup were a mess, and you miserably stared up at him through tear-filled eyes as he tucked his shirt back into his pants, swiftly pulling on his white suit jacket.

“…the cops will be here soon, and you gotta pull yourself together. Huh, doll face?”

He forced your head back as he gripped your chin, and you reluctantly nodded. He roughly dragged his thumb over your lips, smearing what was left of your lipstick before taking his leave, leaving you alone with one dead body, and one bruised one.

You shuffled upstairs, arms aching and eyes tight as you made your way to your apartment. It had been weeks since you’d been back to the club. Your boss, someone you were ever grateful for, told you to come back when you were ready. After all, you’d had someone’s brains blown out right in front of you…on you.

You were fortunate that no one stuck around to see J’s possessive display of ownership, so no one knew what his impromptu murder was really about. Everyone speculated that the customer had crossed the Joker in some way, a business deal gone wrong, but only you knew the truth. Only you knew that the man’s only crime had been paying for your time.

You took a break from stealing from the wealthy too. Not only did you lack the energy, but you couldn’t chance running into the Joker. Had you known what all of those gifts had meant, you never would have accepted them. You didn’t want to be the Joker’s. The last girl who got seriously tangled up with him had ended up almost crazier than he was.

Granted, you heard Harley Quinn was doing better these days, but God. Look how long it took her to get there? The thought of telling him to his face that it was over was a scary one, so you settled for just hiding away in your apartment. He was the Joker, a man who had a lot on his plate, and like he’d said, you were a toy to him. There were plenty of toys out there, and he could easily find another.

You dropped the groceries to the floor as soon as you made it inside, and you groaned as you straightened. Your shoes clicked along the floor as you made your way through your dark apartment. You turned on the kitchen light so that it would be on when you returned, and you made your way through your living room, looking forward to getting out of these clothes.

However, when you turned on the light in the living room, you were startled by the sight of a familiar green-haired villain standing in the corner like some statue. You barely swallowed down the scream that bubbled in your throat, and your eyes were wide as you took him in.

He was wearing a tux, a nice one with a white bowtie and a matching boutonniere. His hair was slicked back, and you weren’t sure where he came from, but you wanted him to go right back.

“I was enjoying a night out on the town…taunting Batsy as I like to do…”

He walked away from the wall as he slowly begun, cold eyes roaming over your apartment.

“…when I realized that I hadn’t seen my little thief for days. Weeks even.”

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t respond, instead opting to make his way around the living room, running his gloved hands over your furniture. You didn’t realize that he was gradually closing the circle, nearing you.

“You haven’t been at work. You haven’t been in my face while you ruin my plans. You’re not hiding from me…are ya, doll face?”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing down your fear as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I’m not hiding from you. We’re just through,” you told him.

He froze, glancing over his shoulder at you before continuing to look around.

“Did you hear me? You and I are done. Take your jewelry back, take everything you gave me and leave,” you continued.

He continued on as if he hadn’t heard you, and you stomped towards him.

“I’m serious, J! Do I need to call the police?”

That made him turn, and he wagged his finger at you like you were a misbehaving child.

“Careful,” he purred. “…because I personally know a certain thief they’d love to be informed about.”

You frowned, swallowing before pushing past him.

“I don’t care. At least in jail, I’ll be away from you-.”

You were cut off by your own scream, reaching for his hand as he pulled on your hair, forcing you away from the phone. He pulled you against him, and your eyes widened when he pressed a knife against your cheek, a hair’s width away from your lips.

“You have no agency in this arrangement.”

He threw you to the floor, and you scrambled away from him, nails scraping along the wood as he pulled you back. He cut your clothes away with ease, the torn shreds falling to the floor to leave you bear before him. The knife that grazed along your skin kept you from screaming as he undressed, but you did wince when he pressed it into your thigh, like a warning of what could come.

He took you behind the couch first, holding your thighs so tightly that the skin burned when he finally let go. Your table was next, but unfortunately, it didn’t withstand his rough treatment. The wall shook as he fucked you against it, every thrust rattling the pictures you had hung up to make this place a tad cozier.

Broken glass and broken pieces of wood littered the floor by the time he forced you into your bedroom. His knife remained in between his fingers the whole time he fucked you against your sheets. Your scalp burned from his harsh hold, and your throat hurt every time you swallowed, and you just knew that you’d wake up with finger shaped bruises in the morning. His deep voice was a constant in your ear, calling you ‘his little thief’, tsking at you like you were a confused child, telling you how much he was going to straighten you out.

When you clenched around him for a final time, your legs were thrown over his shoulder while your hands were pinned above your head by one of his. His free hand had fun cutting little nicks into your skin, greedily licking up the blood as tears continued to dampen your cheeks. He continued to push himself into you even after he came, and when he finally pulled out, your legs fell to the bed, chest heaving with shallow sobs.

“Now, wasn’t that a whole lotta fun?”

You glared at him as he sat up, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his fair skin, and your eyes traced the ink that decorated him. His green hair was in disarray, a smug grin on his lips as he pushed the strange colored locks away from his face. You could hardly even move, and you feared that attempting to would hurt worse.

You watched as he leaned over to his discarded pants, pulling out some sparkly piece of jewelry that you couldn’t care less about. You swallowed as he held it up, nearing you.

“…and here I was out shopping for something to compliment those new earrings, and you’re talking about leaving me. That’s a bit rude, but I’m willing to look past it.”

More tears spill over as he slides it around your neck, and it feels more like a noose than a necklace.

“You look like a work of art,” he says, lips brushing your cheek. “…all pretty and marked up by yours truly.”

His hair tickles your face, and he slowly leans away, dragging his fingers over your lips. You wince when he roughly grabs your jaw, pressing his fingers into a tender spot that you know is already forming a bruise.

“Now, I’ll be back in a couple of hours, so don’t do anything stupid.”

He tightened his grip at the end of his sentence, and you flinched. He grinned at you as he lightly patted his other hand against your cheek, grin widening when you recoiled.

“Let’s not do anything like that again, alright, sweetheart?” he purrs. “I’d hate to have to really hurt ya.”

tags: @harryspet @sherrybaby14 @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @opheliadawnwalker3 @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @readermia @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @buckybarnesplumwhore @quaksonhehe @nerdygirl8203 @mandiiblanche @cocoamoonmalfoy

#joker x reader #dark fic #dc fanfic #dc #dark joker #dark!joker #suicide squad

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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

Fallout New Vegas companions react to taking the Courier's place in Dead Money.

Arcade Gannon: Following the obligatory panic attack and subsequent state of dejection, Arcade would suck it up and start trying to get the heist done with as quickly as possible. He’d roll his eyes at Dean Domino, set aside Dog and God’s identity crisis for later and check Christine over for basic first aid purposes before trudging along toward the various goals set by Elijah. I think he’d opt for stealth over combat when encountering the ghost people out of a sense of self-preservation, but he would probably pocket some clothing and blood samples from any that Dog took down along the way to the casino. The story of the Sierra Madre would fascinate him, particularly the bits and pieces left behind by jaded treasure hunters and Elijah’s previous teams of victims. Arcade would see it as a microcosm of what’s happening in the wider world, a stellar example of partners turning on each other in pursuit of some perceived bright future attached to the hidden treasures of the old world. Vera’s desperate graffiti in her hotel room would speak to him most powerfully: LET GO. He would probably try to argue with Elijah about the viability of the former Brotherhood Elder’s plans, throwing some Latin phrasing in for good measure. No matter his level of success in this, Arcade would stow away as many gold bars as he could to lug home and use to sparingly and anonymously fund the efforts of the Followers of the Apocalypse.

Craig Boone: During his first encounter with one of the ghost people popping up again after being downed by his sniper rifle, Boone would grunt in annoyance, swap his ammo for hollow points and switch from aiming at chests to aiming at heads. Ghost people bob and weave admirably, but Boone has a gift, and up until he actually got inside the casino, his main obstacle would be avoiding the noxious cloud. The holograms, on the other hand, would probably strike some fear into his heart. After all, how do you destroy something that bullets can’t touch? I don’t think he would put two and two together about the emitters until Christine or Dean pointed them out: From there, it just becomes a scavenger hunt to find the next piece of wall-mounted tech to shoot. Dean, Dog and God would annoy him, but he’d find a kindred spirit in Christine, and would appreciate her ability to convey meaning without words. Hell, he’s pretty good at that himself. Upon finding Elijah, Boone would immediately put a bullet in his head, look at the pile of gold for a few seconds, then walk away and out of the Sierra Madre without looking back. He’d never breathe a word of the place to anyone, but he’d track down all of the Sierra Madre broadcast systems one by one and destroy them, letting the desert swallow the place and its dangers for good.

Lily Bowen: Grandma Lily wouldn’t understand why the angry man was so desperate to get inside the casino, but she’s more than familiar with being a forced follower of doomed causes. As such, she would be kind to her fellow captives, assuring Christine that she would be able to talk “when she’s ready,” admonishing Dean for his rude behavior and telling Elijah that he would catch more cazadores with honey mesquite than with vinegar. A trail of wrecked ghost people would follow her to the casino itself, but dealing with the holograms would be beyond her expertise: That part would have to be left to Christine or Dean. Elijah would receive a lecture once she made it into the vault, but she would probably let him live unless he attacked first. Dog and God, however, would earn the most care and compassion and even cause some introspection. Ultimately, I think she would help the two become one through intense conversation and shared understanding about what it means to be nightkin with no master, and once freed, she would take him to find a home in Jacobstown.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Upon waking up from being kidnapped by Dog on Elijah's behalf, Raul's immediate reaction would be something like "Again?" followed by "Carajo." Elijah’s insistence on pulling off the heist would annoy him, but Raul is constantly looking for something to occupy his unnaturally-long time on earth, and what is the Sierra Madre if not the Mojave’s most deadly time-waster? He would be sarcastic and exasperated for his entire time wearing the bomb collar, but would find ways to be tender and understanding with Christine, and patient and supportive with Dog and God - after all, he knows what it’s like to struggle with two sides of yourself. Dean, on the other hand, would vex him. Here’s another pre-war ghoul hung up on the promises and mistakes of the past, driven to the point of obsession where he can’t break himself out of the cycle. He can’t let go, and I think that doomed state of being would speak to Raul personally. I don’t think he and Dean would get along, but I don’t think they would have a final showdown in the Tampico either. Instead, I think Dean would watch Raul exit the vault’s elevator, flip one souvenir gold bar in his hand with a wry smile, then pocket it before walking out into the wastes, and the pre-war lounge singer would feel a twinge of kindred sadness before going back to rummaging through the casino’s secrets.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Following a tense standoff with Elijah while refusing to do as he says, Cass would eventually relent and start dragging her feet around the villa to assemble the ragtag heist crew. She’d hold each of them at a distance, intent on getting herself out alive and refusing to be responsible for anyone else. Nods of sympathy for Christine, dry comebacks for Dean and a quizzical comment or two for Dog and God would be her limit, at least until they all encountered their turning points inside the casino. Each of them would grow her disdain for Elijah and his methods, but, like Raul, I think she would be most personally affected by Dean’s story. She might find herself arguing with him like the courier did with her, about moving on from failed pasts and striking out into something new. I don’t think she’d take the time to argue with Elijah, though, and would take the first chance she got to lock him in the vault forever. She’d make off with as much gold as she could, of course.

Veronica Santangelo: The Sierra Madre would make Veronica's head explode, though whether or not Elijah could stand her mouth going a million miles a minute once she wakes up would determine whether that would happen literally or figuratively. Tons and tons of pre-war tech lying around! But it's all under a haze of collapsed support beams, toxic gas and ghost people that can jump around like grasshoppers. Father Elijah is alive! But he's trying to break into a casino to build an army of holograms, and he imprisoned Christine. Christine is here! But she's been maimed and abused horribly, and is trying to kill Elijah. I think Elijah would try reasoning with Veronica before threatening her into obeying him - though she would probably figure out how to get the collar off or render it useless within the first 24 hours in the Sierra Madre - but I don’t think he would be able to convince her that his plan to get inside the casino’s vault would benefit the Brotherhood of Steel. The revelations that Christine would bring - the Circle of Steel’s orders, Elijah’s crimes against travelers and treasure hunters, his orchestration of their breakup in order to bring Veronica to the Mojave with him - would probably leave her feeling confused and empty about the man she considers a grandfather figure. She would probably do her best to free Elijah from the casino, but would offer him a choice if she succeeded: Leave the treasures of the Sierra Madre behind and walk away from his accursed quest for power, or remain trapped with what he’d sought. Whatever path he’d choose, Veronica would part ways with him once the vault’s elevator ascended. She’d bundle up Vera’s dress, sigh heavily, then take Christine’s hand and walk away from the Sierra Madre forever.

ED-E: Ironically, I think ED-E would be a good pick for Elijah to use as a pawn in his heist game, though it would be kind of hard for Dog to hook a collar onto the little robot. If Ulysses can speak to the courier through an eyebot’s speakers, then Elijah can probably do the same to his already-assembled team. ED-E doesn’t have a whole lot of personal motivation, so I think the bot would just beep and go along with whatever it was ordered to do. Christine or Dean would probably take the lead, and ED-E would zoom around the villa, dodging throwing knife spears and trumpeting his location without a care. Once inside the casino, ED-E would again defer to his leader’s orders, with the added benefit of being a robot keeping him from the holograms’ notice. If allowed into the vault, ED-E would diligently pick up exactly six of the gold bars and carry them home to the Mojave, where he would deposit them at the bewildered courier’s feet with a triumphant beep.

Rex: While much easier to slap a collar on than ED-E, I don't think Rex would fare better than the little robot in terms of leadership abilities. As an ally to whoever gets put in charge, though, he would also be invaluable at sneaking around the Sierra Madre’s various threats, particularly the ghost people. He would take a special shine to Christine and God, who would recognize the canine as a fellow being exploited by powers out of his control. Rex would absolutely hate the holograms, who smell of nothing, and Elijah, who smells of desperation and indifference. He would completely ignore the gold bars. Once freed, he would whine and beg and nudge Christine until she relented and left the city of the dead, leading her home to the New Vegas strip and another woman whose scent told him of metal bunkers and longing.

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eliemo · 3 years

Text

Something Long and Stupid

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

TWs: Violence, threats, strong language, blood

Notes: Superhero au, Spiderman Virgil, Deadpool Remus, enemies to lovers Dukexiety

New project that nobody asked for. I know I should finish my ongoing wips before starting a new one but I do not control the hyperfixation.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

When Virgil kicked Remus in the chest and sent him hurtling off the building into an active construction site, Remus found himself thinking about how they’d met.

Honestly, it hadn’t started off much better. Spiderman was a piece of shit who thought he was so much better than Remus just because Deadpool killed some people every now and then.

Well, that had been the first impression anyway. They hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot.

Remus had been doing his job, thank you very much, he was a mercenary for hire, it wasn’t like he’d been going after a gang of strangers for fun. And he certainly hadn’t needed help.

There were three of them and one of him, just some standard thugs that had been causing a bit too much trouble for people with more money to spend, their names already set to pay for Remus’s rent this month.

He’d unsheathed his swords, (guns would make it over too quickly, and what was the fun in that?) letting the assholes get their hopes up by grabbing for their own weapons and then—

Then all his targets were all suddenly covered in webs, firmly plastered to the nearest wall with threats and screaming that Remus ignored in favor of whirling around, slicing the air with his blades.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

Spiderman was half hanging off the wall, stepping back down onto the ground when he saw Remus staring. “You’re welcome,” he called, like Remus had asked for him to come in ruin is fun.

Remus scoffed, because rude. You don’t just steal someone’s kill like that. But at least they were immobilized now, which meant shooting them and getting the day over with would be a piece of cake. The webs weren’t budging no matter how frantically they kicked.

He yanked his gun from his belt to do exactly that, only to have another web (seriously, fucking spider webs had no business being this strong) wrapped around his wrist, another pulling the pistol right out of his hand.

“Uh, motherfucker?” Remus took a step back, furiously grabbing at the lingering webs with his bare hands, grimacing at the way it clung to his leather. “Jeez, you want me to decapitate them instead?”

“They’re already down,” the asshole said, like Remus hadn’t noticed. “Back off, Deadpool.”

Remus didn’t have time to be surprised that Spiderman knew who he was, far too busy wanting to run over and punch him right in his stupid masked face. “Ok, clearly you don’t know my deal. Move it, Webs.”

“Then you don’t know mine,” he said, masked eye staring blankly from underneath the hood over his suit. “I’m not letting you murder defenseless people.”

“They’re not fucking defenseless.”

“They’re not breaking free,” the spider said. “The cops will take whoever I capture for them. Call them and leave.”

Remus scoffed and tightened his hold on his sword, wondering if he really wanted to get into a fight with Spiderman in the middle of the afternoon. It was only fucking Tuesday, he was too tired to deal with this shit. “And they can take them in body bags. Give me my gun back.”

Remus was a good foot taller than him, and loaded with about three times as many weapons, but the masked asshole didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. God, he was probably smirking under his suit.

“I finished the fight, I get to decide.” He turned around, his back to Remus like he didn’t even care. “Maybe try to be faster next time.”

“Oh, fuck right off with that,” Remus snarled. “Fuck off. Fuck off and suck a fat dick, you fucking—”

“Either you walk away, or I leave you tied to the wall.”

“Kinky,” Remus smirked, even if Spiderman couldn’t see it under his own mask. “But fat fucking luck. No way in hell am I letting some bitch in black and purple spanx steal my kill.”

Spiderman actually had the audacity to sigh, like he was dealing with a petulant child. “Nobody’s getting killed.”

“You know, I’ve got more than one gun,” Remus said, mentally calculating how fast he’d have to move to shoot every single person in this alleyway. “I’m playing nice. Get out of my way.”

“You’re not shooting someone who can’t fight back.”

“Oh, are you the moral police?” Jesus, Remus wanted to punch this guy. “Man, fuck off. It’s none of your business.”

He grabbed for his other gun, only to immediately feel something wrap around his waist and legs, yanking hard and lifting him into the air. He shouted something he really hoped no pedestrians were close by enough to overhear, doing his absolute best to give Spiderman his coldest glare as he was slammed against the brick wall, upside down, held firmly down by fucking spider webs.

“Oh, you bitch.”

Remus twisted and thrashed, and while he could feel the webs giving way already it would be a good few minutes until he was free. That fucking asshole.

“Next time I see you I’m cutting off your spider ass and hanging it on my fucking wall!”

Spiderman ignored him, and Remus watched as he grabbed the thugs Remus was supposed to kill and one by one swung them out of the alleyway before disappearing completely.

That whore.

It hadn’t been long, unfortunately, until they’d met again, and Remus had of course tried to punch the asshole right in the head.

They’d ended up on the same rooftop, which was even worse because Remus came up here to relax. Spiderman had just been sitting there, legs dangling over the edge as he watched over the city, looking almost peaceful with his hood down and the sun beating against his mask.

So Remus had immediately vaulted over and swung at him as hard as he possibly could.

And then he’d missed, because of course Spidey had to have fucking inhuman reflexes, which was bullshit. He’d ducked away and managed to jump to Remus’s side before Remus even registered that his fist had met nothing but air.

“Can you leave?” Spiderman asked, so unbothered it only made Remus angrier. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Making sure people don’t get killed,” he said, moving back towards the ledge. “You should try it sometime.”

Remus crossed his arms, watching the vigilante in disbelief. “You get that I’m a mercenary, right? You’re surprised by the killing thing?”

“I’m not,” he said, and he still wouldn’t even look at Remus. “But I’m stopping it when I can.”

“Oh? So you’re ruining a small business?” Remus threw his arms out and turned towards the ledge overlooking the bustling city. “Spiderman doesn’t support small businesses, you heard it here first, folks!”

Spidey was staring at him now, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion he would not appreciate the look he was being given if the mask was taken off. Asshole.

“I don’t support killing people, Deadpool.”

“Sucks,” Remus said. “You should’ve stayed out of the way. If I wasn’t so kind and generous I would have shot you.”

“You mean if you hadn’t been tied up and defenseless,” Spiderman corrected, and Remus was right back to wanting to punch him. “You’re lucky I didn’t get you arrested.”

Remus dramatically put a hand to his chest and gasped, walking along the roof’s edge. “Oh no. What ever would I have done? I’d be defeated! My one weakness. C ops.”

Spidey didn’t respond, but he did get up and move away when Remus got a bit too close to where he was perched on the ledge. Ha .

“Maybe I should have called the cops on you, Spidey,” Remus added. “They’d finally catch the masked menace. Some jail time might humble you.”

“I’d be fine,” Spiderman said. “I wasn’t the one tied to a wall.”

Remus hopped back onto the roof with a growl, grimacing at the reminder of how long it had taken to get those webs off his suit. “Yeah, don’t do that shit again. Seriously, I can and will end you.”

“Get in line behind half the city, Deadpool.”

Remus scoffed, something he apparently did a lot of whenever talking to Spiderman, and followed him across the rooftop. “Man, your ratings are shit. At least I don't act like a hero.”

It was hard to see, barely noticeable, but Remus saw Spidey’s shoulders tense, just a bit. Apparently he’d struck a nerve. Good.

“I don’t act like anything,” he said, and it was just a little less cocky than before. “I’m just trying to help people.”

“Oh, so you’re playing hero.” Remus grinned, moving until he was crouched right in front of the vigilante. “Ooh ooh, let me guess...you’re in college. You’re ...22. Maybe 23, or 24. You got these big bad powers one day and figured you were the only one in the whole wide world who could protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.”

Spidey didn’t answer, just looked at him with that blank, unamused stare, so Remus continued. “Or were you born with them? Doesn’t seem like it, you’ve only popped up in the last two or three years—”

“It’s none of your business,” Spiderman cut in, and Remus smirked. “And you’re wrong, for the record.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Remus asked, amused despite himself. “If nobody wants you, why are you even trying?”

Spidey was tense now, and doing a real bad job of hiding it. “Maybe I don’t give a shit what people think.”

“Right.” Remus didn’t need to see the guy’s face to know that wasn’t it. “You do realize how much money you could make with those powers, right?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m fine doing what I’m doing.”

Remus looked him over, he’d seen spidey all over newspapers and on TV before, but this was the first time actually talking to him in person, besides the other day when the asshole had ruined his afternoon. Honestly, it was kinda underwhelming. He expected the suit to be higher tech, at least.

“Are you broke?” he asked. “You seem broke. I could make you a way better mask, by the way. It looks like shit.”

“I’m sure,” Spidey said, completely ignoring his generous offer. Rude. “And how much do you get paid for killing people?”

“A lot.”

Spiderman hummed nonchalantly, no longer looking at Remus. “Well, I’m glad it’s worth it.”

“It is! I sleep like a baby in my king sized bed.” And yeah, that was a little bit of a lie. Barely.. He wasn’t living that luxuriously, New York was expensive as shit, but based on his tech he was way better off than Webs.

“That’s wonderful,” Spiderman said and damn, apparently the masked menace was capable of being a sarcastic bastard as well as a cocky asshole. “You done pretending now? Can I go?”

“I’m not pretending anything.”

“Yeah, ok.” Spiderman was back to sounding arrogant, and Remus couldn’t remember why they were talking instead of fighting to the death. “I know you sleep like shit.”

Remus actually laughed, humorless and cold, because what the fuck?

“Oh yeah?”

“Nobody kills for a living if their life is going great,” Spidey said. “What horrible trauma pushed you to that decision?”

Oh, this motherfucker. This piece of shit. He was so dead when Remus could catch him off guard.

“Nobody puts on a costume and fights crime when half the city wants him dead if his life is going great, either.” Remus smirked, moving to try to get Spidey to look at him again. “At least I get money for it. No student loan debt at 26 is pretty nice.”

He probably shouldn’t have given the vigilante that was quickly turning into his sworn enemy his age but eh. What was he gonna do, kill him? Remus didn’t stay dead.

“That’s great,” Spiderman said. “And all it cost was people’s lives.”

“Yep!” Remus hoped it came out cheery enough to piss him off a little more. “Think of it this way, Spidey. They’re gonna die anyway.”

Spiderman immediately straightened up and stalked to the other end of the rooftop, clearly wanting the conversation to end. Mission accomplished. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s true!” he called, just to drive home the fuck off a bit more. “Someone would have gotten to them eventually.”

“They’re still people, Deadpool.”

Remus shrugged. “Good people don't get hits put on them.”

“Maybe not,” the vigilante agreed. “But good people don’t murder in exchange for money, either.”

Remus barked another laugh at that, more genuine this time because... yeah? Duh. “No shit. I never fucking said I was a good person.”

“You’re lucky you haven't killed anyone innocent yet.” And goddammit there was that ‘hero’ shit again that made Remus want to throw up. He’d just been starting to have fun, too.

“It’s still not your business.”

“It will be,” Spidey said, perched on the ledge in a way that would make Remus dizzy if he cared. “Stick to killing criminals and we'll be fine.”

“Oh?” Remus followed, smirking in a way that would probably get him punched if he took off his mask. “Are you gonna come get me if I’m not good?”

“That’s my job.”

“Aw, don’t worry,” Remus teased. “I’ll wear something sexy for you.”

“Gross.”

“Love you too, Spider Babe!”

Spidey scoffed, responding with a gloved middle finger when Remus winked. Remus watched a web shoot from his wrist, and suddenly Spiderman was gone, swinging across New York rooftops, leaving Remus to try to figure out how he was getting down.

Remus honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. He was fucked in the head, but he didn’t have any plans to lose control and start killing everyone in sight. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t a villain Spiderman needed to spend time tracking down. New York was busy enough for both of them already.

He did plan on chucking the nearest heavy object at him if he ever saw Spidey swinging past. That never ended up happening. Not that he cared. He didn’t miss him.

He expected to catch a glimpse of him eventually, maybe close enough to yell a few lighthearted threats or call him names, but nothing as entertaining as the argument on the roof.

What he hadn’t expected, was to run right into the masked menace while walking home in the middle of the night.

Remus had just finished a job, something standard and quick, and after wiping the blood from his blades he’d decided to take the long way home. The sun had set, the night air was crisp and relaxing, and it helped Remus forget about the blood stains he needed to wash away.

He’d been cutting through sidestreets, mentally mapping out how to get back to his place. He turned a corner into an alleyway, and—

And there was Spiderman, hunched over himself and leaned against the wall like he’d been using it for support, shaking, gasping, and completely drenched in deep red blood.

Remus froze, and Spidey did too as soon as he registered Deadpool standing just a few paces away, the two of them staring silently for what felt like an eternity.

“Dude,” Remus said when he found his voice. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Spiderman was clutching at his chest, black and purple suit barely able to hide the red stains, leaned heavily against the brick wall as he watched Remus warily. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be stupid. Whose blood is that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped, and his voice was wavering. “Keep walking.”

Remus took a step forward, frowning at the way the vigilante went tense against the wall. He ignored it. “Whose blood is it?” It came out more of a command than a question this time.

“Mostly mine,” Spiderman said, and Remus could see it pooling around his gloves now that he was closer. “It’s fine.”

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“None of your business. Go home.”

Remus tried to get a better look from where he stood, well aware that approaching might not be the best idea right now. “Was it a gun or a knife?”

“It was none of your business and you need to go away.”

Remus watched him, incredulous, because the idiot was barely standing and losing way too much blood way too quickly, and he was pretty sure Spiderman didn’t have Remus’s whole immortality deal.

“You really want to bleed out on the street like some street thug?”

The vigilante hesitated, and Remus listened to the way his breathing was turning into awful sounding wheezes. “I’m...not going to bleed out. I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus challenged, probably a bit more aggressively than was needed for someone who looked like they were about to keel over. “Walk over to me then.”

He’d expected the lack of response, but even though the eyes built into the suit were practically lifeless (he really should get him some more advanced goggles. He’d be a lot more approachable if his eyes weren’t so blank) Remus could still see his whole body tense in fear.

“No,” he said, low and trembling. “Fuck off.”

“Spidey, this isn’t a joke.” Jesus, that was a lot of blood. “You’re gonna bleed out.”

“And you can throw a party—”

“Fucking come here.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he wasn’t going to just stand here bickering with the city’s hero until he dropped dead. But Spidey still shook his head, pressed even further against the wall now, and Remus sighed. “Fine.”

Remus took a few steps forward, initially planning on prying his arms away to get a better look at the wound, but Spiderman flinched back, trying to scramble away like Remus was coming at him with a weapon.

Well, Remus supposed that made sense. He had threatened to kill him a couple times last time they spoke.

“Chill it, Spidey.” Remus crouched a bit, suddenly painfully aware of how much taller he was, carefully holding his hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shot back. Which...yeah, fair. “I know you want to.”

“Does it look like I have a knife in my hand?” Remus asked. “No. Chill out and let me see.”

Spidey didn’t pull away when Remus took his shoulders, but he did flinch as soon as Deadpool touched him, probably involuntarily. Remus ignored it, focusing instead on figuring out where the blood was coming from. It was almost impossible in the dark lighting, especially up against the black suit.

“It’s...not that bad,” Spiderman rasped. “Seriously.”

Remus wasn’t buying that for a second. “What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened,” Spidey said, arms still wrapped firmly around himself. “It...there were five of them and one of them got lucky with a knife.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Remus pulled back, trying to figure out what to do. “You are stupid. Where?”

He only hesitated a moment. “Uh, my chest. I heal fast.”

“Jesus. How fast?”

Spiderman shrugged, then obviously regretted it when it pulled at the stab wound. “Hopefully fast enough,” he said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow or I’ll be dead.”

“Jesus,” Remus said again, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say? “Sit down. Jesus Christ.”

Spidey thankfully did as he said, though Remus suspected it had more to do with the fact that he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore rather than actually following instructions.

He wasn’t fighting anymore, almost limp as Remus took his wrists and moved them to his sides, but he did look like he was ready to bolt the second Deadpool made one wrong move.

Like he wouldn’t fall right on his face and hurt himself worse if he tried.

Remus could see the source of the blood now, a deep gash across his upper chest that had apparently sliced the black and purple suit like butter, still gushing crimson with each passing second.

Shit.

“Alright, uh.” This wasn’t his expertise in the slightest. Other than digging out some bullets, Remus didn't have to tend to his wounds. “I don’t think I have any fabric or...oh, your hoodie. Hand it over.”

Spiderman stared, and if he didn’t hurry up and get with the program Remus was going to knock him out and handle this himself. “Why?”

“Because you’re bleeding out. Give it.”

Spidey at least had the sense to listen and carefully peel the hoodie away from his suit, sliding it down his arms even as his gloved hands shook violently. Remus couldn’t help but wince at the noise Spiderman tried to choke back, because that had to hurt like a bitch.

“Maybe, like...lay down?” Remus suggested. “Yeah, do that. It’ll help.”

Spidey still hesitated, even as the blood continued to flow and he started to slide down against his will. “I...need to see what you’re doing.”

Remus sighed, bunching up the hoodie and pressing it firmly against the wound, ignoring the strangled gasp that came from the vigilante. Blood was quickly soaking through the cloth, and Remus just pressed harder.

“I’m just putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding,” Remus said. “If I wanted to kill you I’d leave you here. If it stops bleeding you’ll heal, right?”

The only answer he got was another wet, trembling gasp when Remus pushed harder, Spiderman’s blood soaking into his gloves. It took a second for him to realize he was grasping at Remus’s wrists, his hold weak.

“H-hopefully,” Spidey managed, and he really didn’t sound great. His eyes were drooping, and Remus figured the biggest danger right now was letting him fall asleep. “Or, you know. I’ll die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Remus said without thinking. “I’m gonna stop the bleeding, you’re gonna heal with whatever weird powers you have, and then you’ll be less of a careless idiot next time.”

A few moments passed without an answer, and for once Remus wasn’t entirely sure how to fill the silence. The only sound between them was Spiderman’s labored, ragged breathing, which at least sounded a bit less shaky and faint as Remus continued to press down.

“What are you doing?” Spidey asked eventually, catching Remus completely off guard with the stupid question. “Why are you...trying to help?”

Remus wasn’t trying to do anything. He was helping. The city’s beloved hero would have been dead five minutes ago if he hadn’t managed to interrupt Remus’s perfectly nice, peaceful walk.

He hadn’t even really thought about it. Remus was an asshole, a murderer for a living, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t the guy who was going to leave New York’s savior to bleed out in an alleyway.

Besides, he’d been the first person Remus had been able to have a somewhat entertaining conversation with in months.

“Somebody’s gotta save everyone,” he eventually settled on, still pressing hard against the wound. “And I refuse to be the city’s only mouthy vigilante.”

Another beat of silence, and for a moment Remus thought he might have fallen asleep. “I don’t...save anyone. And I’m not mouthy.”

“You do,” Remus argued. “And you are.”

“I don’t,” he snapped, and at least he didn’t seem inclined to argue about the mouthy thing. “You do your job better than I do.”

Remus took a moment to look over the bleeding hero. He was weak and trembling, and probably dangerously pale and clammy under that suit. The blood flow had definitely slowed, but it hadn't stopped. There was a good chance he wouldn’t remember a damn thing Remus said to him tonight.

And if he did, it’s not like he really gave a shit, anyway.

“I’m a mercenary,” Remus said. “Anyone can kill someone. It takes something a lot stronger to save them. So shut up and stop being self deprecating.”

Spiderman shuddered when Remus carefully peeled back the bloody hoodie, leaning in to get a better look at where they were at. Either he was just that good at fixing stab wounds, or Spidey’s healing powers were gradually starting to kick in.

Remus decided to go with the former. He deserved it.

“I got someone killed tonight,” Spidey said, quiet and unbearably sad. “She...she died because I wasn’t fast enough, and I didn’t—”

“You can’t save everyone.”

The vigilante pulled his hands away from Remus’s wrists, like he’d just realized he was holding them. “I should have tried harder.”

Remus sighed. “You tried hard enough. You did fine.”

That was apparently the end of the conversation, Spiderman falling back into silence as Remus went back to making sure he didn’t start bleeding all over the place again. He didn’t have anything on him to properly clean it up, he wasn’t sure he even owned a first-aid kit, but Spidey’s breathing was starting to even out, and after about ten minutes or so the blood stopped flowing completely.

“You, uh...you good?”

“I’ll be fine,” Spiderman said, and it didn’t sound like a desperate lie this time. He still looked like shit, but he was able to slowly sit up on his own. “Not dying this time. Just...still hurts.”

They were plunged back into silence, slightly less tense than before but no less uncomfortable. Remus eventually relinquished his hold on the hoodie when Spidey was able to carefully take it from him.

Right, he was fine now. Remus didn’t need to stay, it wasn’t his business anymore. It hadn’t been his business to begin with.

“I...owe you,” Spiderman said, almost like it was strange for him to admit. “So, thank y—”

“Don’t thank me, Spidey.” God, this had been a mistake, hadn’t it? “Seriously. Just buy me a pizza sometime and we’ll call it square.”

Spiderman stared for second, unsteady hands holding his own hood to his chest, but the small laugh that escaped at least sounded genuine, and no longer quite so pained.

“Ok,” he said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Remus hesitated before standing, not really sure if it would be more rude to leave or stay at this point. Spiderman probably didn’t want a mercenary for hire standing over him while he was wounded, whether Remus had saved his life or not.

Remus was still just as far from a hero as the villains Spiderman fought, and both of them had a reputation to keep.

“You sure you’re ok?” Remus asked. “I can like...stay. Or call you an ambulance or...something.”

“I’m good,” Spidey said, sitting up with a small hiss of pain until he was propped up against the wall, breathing still heavy. “You stopped the bleeding, I’ll live. You can go home, Deadpool.”

“Right.” He carefully stepped around the vigilante, still keeping a close eye on his chest to make sure the bleeding didn’t start again. “Just don’t die after all my hard work. My gloves are fucking soaked.”

Spiderman scoffed, but it was more good natured and light than it had been the last time they talked. “You got it.”

Remus kept walking down the alley, only turning around once more before turning the corner at the end. “And don’t forget my pizza, Spidey!”

#spiderman virgil #deadpool remus #superhero au #spiderman au #spideypool #dukexiety #virgil sanders #remus sanders #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #violence tw #sex jokes #remus being remus #blood tw #injury #sanders sides #fanfiction #writing

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

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To Call Forth Love - Chapter 10

I’m sorry its taken me so long to update. I haven't had much time to write lately due to....well, life. But here we are and its long, so hopefully that makes up for the length.

Side note- the Norwegian used is from Google translate so....

Warnings: swearing, mild sexual content, Lothbrok family dynamics (yes, its a warning), threats of violence

Words: 15,700 (yep, my longest chapter yet. I packed ALOT into this beast)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @ecarroll1978 @breezykpop @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

Series Masterlist

"Where are we going? I thought we were going to your flat?"

Gyda slyly smiled at Kari, sitting in the passenger seat of her bright yellow Porsche. "Change of plans."

Kari stared at her friend. "I'm scared to ask."

"Torvi asked for female reinforcement. So, we are going to keep her company."

"Ok…. But where is that?"

"At the brothers' house." The blonde answered nonchalantly as she made a quick right-hand turn. "It's tradition. Kind of a last family summer party before it's too cold to swim anymore. They have a pool in their backyard."

Kari felt her stomach drop. Ivar had told her he lived with his three other brothers. Gyda had her own flat while Bjorn and Torvi owned a house nearby. Whenever she tried to ask Ivar about his home, he would shrug off the question or ignore it completely. Eventually she just stopped asking. Curiosity certainly reared its head when she wondered what his home was like. For how much money meant nothing to him, she guessed it was massive and expensive. Maybe he knew she would not fit in and that was why he never brought her? Even through his speeches of wanting her to be his girlfriend, he knew she would not fit into his lifestyle. Why else would he keep her away? It was a valid truth that she had come to terms with. Even if she found herself secretly desperate to ease into his life, she never would.

"Of course, they do…." Kari rolled her eyes at the notion that obviously, there was a pool in their backyard. It fit the stereotype in her mind. Then she thought about what Gyda just said. "Wait. Do you have a swimsuit with you?"

Gyda raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at her while keeping her eyes on the road. "Don't worry, I've got you covered. Torvi brought an extra of hers for you."

"You had this planned, didn't you? We never were going to your flat, were we?"

"I don't kiss and tell."

"Yes, you do. There was that guy you hooked up with two weeks ago that kept sending you dick pics after."

"That guy was way too proud of his dick. I mean it wasn't even that big."

"I don't want to hear this again." Kari groaned, tugging on her diamond earring. She enjoyed Gyda but she had learned far more about the woman's sex life than she had any desire to know.

"Okay, fine. And yes, Torvi and I planned this. Ivar doesn't know you're coming."

"Why?"

Gyda smirked. "Because he's been so secretive and only Hvitserk has seen you two together. Besides, the rest of the brothers want to meet you. We may be at each other's throats most of the time but we do care for one another."

The brunette let her friend's words sink in. Hvitserk had mentioned the others wanting to meet her, but she had not fully believed it. Sure, she wanted to meet them and was curious after hearing Ivar talk about them, but why would they be interested in her? She glanced down at her clothes, the capri leggings and tank top that were practically a signature look for her. For once, she wished she dressed nicer regularly. "I wish you had said something before."

"You wouldn't have come then. You'd have created some excuse why you couldn't come." Gyda pointed out the obviously painful truth without remorse.

Kari slouched in the passenger seat, butterflies doing somersaults in her belly. Slowly, she pulled her ponytail down, letting her hair hang loose past her shoulders, running her hand through it absent-mindedly in hopes it looked decent.

At a red light, Gyda looked over at her with a bright smile. "It'll be fun."

"I don't know…. isn’t it supposed to be just family?"

"Ubbe sometimes brings his girlfriend but yeah, it's usually just family."

There was another long silence before Kari spoke again, unable to fully conceal her nerves. "You should drop me off and just go. I don't want to intrude."

"You're not. I'm bringing you because there is always way too much testosterone." Gyda groaned, then reached over and swatted Kari's leg. "What are you so worried about?"

"What if they don't like me?" She whispered. The weight of her confession hung over her like a dark cloud.

"What?"

She kept her gaze out the window. "The…. the others. What if they don't like me?"

Gyda laughed. "Kari, don't worry. They will love you. I promise. And if they say anything fucking stupid, I'll slap them or Ivar will stab them. See? Simple."

A smile grew on Kari's face. "That shouldn't make me feel better…. but for some reason it does." Maybe she had already spent too much time with various Lothbroks if the idea of people resorting to violence made her feel better.

"You aren't alone, if anything we'll steal Torvi and Asa away and have a girls' party."

"Asa? That's her daughter, right?"

"Right, and Hali is her son. I swear that boy is going to be a miniature version of Bjorn."

"I've never been around kids much."

Gyda chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "They are great, Asa is a sweetie who prefers to cuddle in someone's lap. It's Hali who is a bit wild but all his uncles love to play with him. He'll probably be swimming in the pool the whole time anyway."

Still staring out the window, Kari thought about everything Gyda had said. Of course, she was still nervous about just showing up to a family event unannounced, even if she was sort of being kidnapped by Gyda. Some of her nerves faded away with the knowledge that Gyda and Torvi both wanted her there. She really would not be alone. She had friends. She had people that wanted to spend time with her. Hopefully Ivar would be pleased to see her. His potential reaction was the only real wrinkle in her fluctuating confidence.

"Okay. I can do this." She said aloud, wondering if she was trying to fully convince herself.

"Good, cause we're almost there."

Kari stared out the window as they approached a gated community. Gyda showed her ID to a guard who chatted with her like they were old friends. As the yellow Porsche drove by the houses in the community, Kari just stared in awe. She had seen houses, mansions was a better term, like these before but it always amazed her that people lived in them. What did they do with all that space? All of the homes were set back from the road so Kari only caught glimpses of them but it was enough to remind her how out of her element she was.

Finally, they pulled up a long driveway to a massive two-story house. It was white with an insane number of windows, and a huge garage attached on the left side. On the right side looked like an expansive addition that made Kari wonder why they needed more space. The roof was made of some slate gray tiles, with a balcony above the front door and ivy draping elegantly over the corners. There were various sized potted plants and shrubbery around the front of the house and leading down the sides. Several European beech trees were strategically placed in the front yard to block most of the view from the road in an attempt at privacy. Whoever the grounds keeper was, for surely they had one, needed a raise.

Kari could only gape for a long moment, unable to move as she took in the immaculate, beautiful house. To think this was where Ivar lived and he always came over to her tiny townhouse. It was a struggle to tamper down the post embarrassment.

Gyda started talking as she parked in front of the house. The only other vehicle in sight was a silver four-door Audi, that Kari recognized as Torvi's. "Aslaug chose the house for them. When she isn't traveling for work or staying at their family home in Norway, this is where she stays. So, she insisted on this place. Something about the natural sunlight and old aesthetic blending with the new vibe. Or some other shit. I can't remember."

"Huh." Kari said as she followed the blonde out of the car. She noticed there was no mention of the father, Ragnar, and wondered where he stayed but knew it was none of her business so she kept her question to herself. Maybe Ivar would explain it to her.

Gyda opened the solid, wood front door, waltzing in like she had done this a million times. Kari took two steps in and froze. The vaulted ceiling in the foyer was enough to stare at but it was the large chandelier that caused her to stare. The way it caught the afternoon light through the many windows and gently cast it about was truly gorgeous. This view was worth owning the house for itself, in her opinion.

A tugging on her arm made Kari squeak as she found herself suddenly being dragged along like a ragdoll.

"You can stare later, Torvi is waiting for us." Gyda stated, a large purse over her shoulder and her heeled boots clicking on the shiny, wood floor with each step.

Kari caught glimpses of other rooms as they passed down the long, straight hallway. A living room with a TV that took up most of the wall it was on. A kitchen that would make any celebrity chef drool. Pictures and awards displayed along the walls in the hallway that were obviously put up by their mother.

The two finally stepped out into a room with glass walls, where the pool and expansive backyard lay before them. Most likely what used to be a porch before being enclosed. Still being pulled along, Kari followed Gyda through a side door onto the stamped concrete that surrounded the pool and lounge area. A pool in a rectangle shape dominated the area, a diving board on the far end. A quick glance around showed a jacuzzi on the other side, closer to the house, the water bubbling like a cauldron. There was a large grill, several short tables and lounge chairs spread over the stamped concrete. At the far end was an adult size statue of the Buddha with two flowering pots on either side of him and some kind of cheap, plastic crown on his head.

The backyard was several acres wide and at least that many in length. Trees and large shrubs blocked the views of the neighbor's properties and made the place feel almost like a hidden oasis. Further down in a corner was a lovely gazebo with a cobbled stone path leading to it and gardens decorating the way.

"Gyda! What took you so long?!" A distinctly male voice called out.

"I had to pick up a package." She called back, pulling Kari into full view of the others.

The brunette gave a small, self-conscious smile at the many pairs of eyes that she could feel land on her. Before she could really get a good look at who was around, a shout of her name startled her.

"Kari!" Hvitserk jumped up from his lounge chair, wearing only dark green swim trunks, and walked over to her with a beaming smile.

"Hey…. OH!" She started to greet him only to be swallowed into a hug and spun in a circle. Unable to deny him, she hugged him back and laughed. It was funny since last time she saw him, he was in business attire, coming to check on her per Ivar's instructions. Now she could not help but notice his toned body. His form reminded her more of a runner, while she was used to seeing Ivar's muscular torso. A couple tattoos on Hvitserk caught her eye and she wondered if all the brothers had them.

When he finally set her back on her feet, he kept his hands on her shoulders, green eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "I didn't know you were coming here."

"Yeah, I didn't know either until Gyda told me on the way."

He chuckled, glancing over her head to his half-sister. "Yeah, not surprising."

"Uh huh. Watch yourself, boy. I could still beat your ass if I wanted too." Gyda quipped.

"Maybe fifteen years ago. You don't have a chance now."

"Keep telling yourself that, Hvitty." She teased, then yelled at Torvi. "You got it?"

As soon as Kari was released by Hvitserk, she could sense a pair of sharp, blue eyes boring into her. Skin prickling under the sensation, she hesitantly looked up and immediately met Ivar's intense gaze right away, as if subconsciously her mind already knew where he was without having to search for him.

Reclined back on a cushioned, lounge beach chair, he wore loose black sweatpants, instead of swim trunks, under his leg braces, but without a shirt. His tattoos were a stark contrast on his skin and shamelessly on full display. Her fingers twitched with the urge to trace them again. It was his penetrating gaze though, the lack of emotion on his handsome face, that made her wonder if being here was a bad idea.

Before she could make a run for it, Gyda grabbed her arm as if sensing her desire to flee. "C'mon, let's get changed."

With one last glance at Ivar, she followed behind Gyda and Torvi, who had joined them, back into the massive house. They headed to the kitchen and Gyda pointed out a bathroom across the way.

Placing the beach bag on the kitchen counter, Torvi dug in it for a moment before murmuring a quiet "here it is" and handed Kari something. "Here. I bought this forever ago but never wore it. Bjorn said he didn't like the colors."

Kari took it, guessing it was the promised swimsuit, and peeked down at the two pieces of clothing in her hands. "Um…. where’s the rest of it?"

Laughing, Gyda rolled her eyes. "Get in there and change or I'll do it for you."

With a concerned look between the swimsuit in her hands and the two blondes staring at her expectantly, Kari finally conceded defeat and stepped into the bathroom. It was only a half bath, with a toilet and sink, but it was still roomy and felt fancy somehow. The mirror above the sink was large and there was a small, pretty flowering plant on the counter that upon inspection, turned out to be real.

Quickly, she changed out of her leggings and tank top and into the swimsuit, figuring it was best that way, like ripping off a band-aid. Plus, if she stopped moving, her nerves would get the better of her and she would somehow find a way to sneak home. Even if she had to crawl through a window. A smile grew on her face remembering Hvitserk's enthusiasm to see her. That had honestly surprised her but she found she did not mind. Hvitserk seemed like a good guy and the little bit of time they had spent together, she felt comfortable with him. He was funny and caring.

Then Ivar's blank face came to mind and all of her excitement slipped away like water down a drain. There had been no acknowledgement, not even the hint of a smile, only a hard stare that made her anxious and self-conscious.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to remind herself what Gyda said. At least the two Lothbrok women wanted her here, and apparently Hvitserk was happy to see her. That was what she needed to focus on and not Ivar's reaction.

Once done changing, she finally took stock of what Torvi had leant her and gasped.

"Oh no. No, no, no. Hell no."

She stared down at the wide-band bikini. The top and bottom both had alternating white and light pink stripes, strangely reminding her of cotton candy. The design was certainly something she would never pick out for herself but she did not hate it. The real problem was the way half her ass cheeks hung out of the bottoms and more of her breasts saw the light of day than they ever had before. Never had she been so exposed. Even swimsuits she bought in the past were never this revealing. Her gaze immediately zeroed in on her fuller hips and thighs, fully exposed. Faint whispers that sounded like her mother's taunts echoed in the recesses of her mind as she stared at herself. There was no way she could go out in this. She would rather wear her leggings and tank top than have anyone see her wearing this. They would all laugh at her.

"Kari? You done yet?" Torvi called through the door.

"I'm…. I’m not coming out in this!"

"Let us see it first!" Gyda shot back.

"But…." Kari tried once again, unsuccessfully, to tuck her breasts into the bikini top. "It's padded!"

"Open this door, Kari." Gyda demanded, suddenly sounding closer.

She took one more look at herself, feeling the embarrassed tears welling in her eyes. With a deep breath, knowing she could not escape Gyda just yet, she opened the door. Immediately her blue-green eyes scanned to make sure it was only Gyda and Torvi in the kitchen before she further opened the door so they could see.

"Shit, Kari, you look great." Gyda said after giving a wolf whistle.

"Half of my butt is hanging out and most of my boobs. I can't wear this out there." She said, almost panicking now.

"No, they aren't, you're overexaggerating."

"Kari," Torvi said kindly, drawing the brunette's frenzied attention, "you're more curvy than I am and let's be honest, your ass and tits are bigger than mine. I'd kill to have a body like yours. You look beautiful. But if you're uncomfortable, I think I have a cover you can wear over it."

"Please." She replied softly, hating how she sounded like a fearful child.

Torvi smiled at her. "I'll be right back."

Swiftly, Kari stepped back into the bathroom before Gyda could say anything. Her nerves felt alight and not in a good way. Grabbing her phone, she scrolled through her Pinterest, anything to distract herself from this nightmare. If it was just Gyda and Torvi seeing her in this, she might have been uncomfortable but she could tolerate it. Even with Ivar she might have shied away some but he always made her feel so desirable that she doubted her nerves would have lasted long. It was the thought of prancing around in this in front of the other brothers, men she had never met, that made her stomach twist into knots and her breathing quicken painfully.

Finally, a gentle knock on the door and a quiet, "It's me," had Kari open it to take the cover from Torvi. It was a solid white oversized V-neck cover with a simple pattern around the neckline. Without wasting a moment, she slipped it on over the bikini, immediately feeling better. The hem of the cover touched the tops of her thighs, higher than she would have liked, but it was better than before.

She looked up, running her hands over the cover. "Thank you."

Torvi smiled softly with understanding. "I understand. I don't wear swimsuits that show my stomach anymore. Stretch marks." She shrugged casually, moving back to slip onto an island stool.

Kari trailed behind her with her bundle of clothes and purse. Without a word, Gyda slipped into the bathroom to change, leaving the other two waiting for her. It was now that Kari really took note of Torvi's swimsuit; it was a classy black and white one piece with thin crisscross straps across the back. The blonde could easily wear a bikini and look amazing in it, but it made Kari feel marginally better that she was not the only one self-conscious about her body. Perhaps that was why Torvi shared about her stretch marks?

"Is it…." Kari started then stopped, leaning against the black marble countertop. Surveying the grand kitchen for a second, hoping to gather her thoughts, she took a deep breath before continuing. "Is it okay that I'm here? Gyda said this is a family event and I don't want to intrude."

Torvi turned to face her fully, green eyes gazing at her before she shrugged again. "Normally we try to keep it just family, Ubbe sometimes brings Margrethe, but I doubt anyone will be upset you're here. Honestly, the brothers keep asking about you, so now maybe they will finally shut up and stop teasing Ivar."

Kari fiddled with the hem of the swimsuit cover. "He didn't seem happy to see me."

"Ivar?" At Kari's nod, Torvi snorted. "I don't think it's you he's upset with. He's a very private person, as I'm sure you know. If I took a guess, I'd say he was keeping you hidden."

"But why?"

"Look, I've known the Lothbroks for about ten years and during that time, I've seen Ivar go through some ups and downs…. well, as much as he lets anyone see. I mostly heard it from Bjorn. Point is, he's allowing you into his inner circle. Hell, you're probably at the center of his inner circle. I saw how he acted with you at the yoga studio. You mean something to him. It's no secret he wants you to be his girlfriend. Maybe he is worried that you'll meet his family and decide we're too much or that you find one of his brothers more attractive or easier to deal with? He pretends to be super confident but it wouldn't be the first time that a woman chose one of the others over him."

Every time Kari heard that, her heart broke once again for Ivar. How many times had he been overlooked because of his legs? Or his harsh demeanor? Something that she was beginning to realize was just to protect himself, to keep others at arm's length. It made her want to hug him and never let him go, to remind him he was more than just his disability. That he was worth being cared about by more than just family.

Kari must have been lost in her thoughts for longer than she realized. Suddenly she was drawn out of her inner musings by Gyda coming out of the bathroom, having changed into a plant print cutout tankini. Of course, looking like she just stepped out of a magazine cover. There had to be something in the Lothbrok blood for everyone to be this damn attractive.

"Are we ready?" She asked, her large bag in hand, presumably with her clothes in it. "Kari, you can put your stuff in here for now."

Torvi touched Kari's shoulder. "Don't worry. If anything, you are here to keep me and Gyda company, okay?"

Kari smiled, finding herself reassured and grateful for the two women. "Thanks." She slipped her clothes and shoes into Gyda's bottomless bag. They stashed their bags in the glass room and then headed back out into the backyard.

Soon as they stepped out, a little girl came running over. Torvi swept her up into her arms gracefully. She turned to Kari with the little blonde girl on her hip. "This is Asa. How old are you, Asa?"

The little girl stared at her mom before shyly tucking her face into the crook of Torvi's neck, while her blue eyes stayed on Kari. After a moment, she held up two fingers.

"You're two?" Kari asked. When the little girl shyly nodded, Kari's smile widened. "I wish I was that old. It's nice to meet you, Asa. I'm Kari."

Torvi pressed a quick kiss to the top of her daughter's head. "Did daddy let you play in the pool yet?"

Asa shook her head.

"Alright, let's go kick his butt. He did promise, didn't he?"

That made the little girl giggle and Kari could feel her heart melting slightly. She was just too cute and most likely spoiled by all her uncles. Even her swimsuit was a purple halter top and green bottom with a little skirt that was very The Little Mermaid-esque.

A happy scream followed by a splash drew Kari's gaze to the pool. A young boy resurfaced laughing loudly. Bjorn, she recognized, was in the pool also, but turned to look up at Torvi as she approached with Asa on her hip.

"Let's go sit down." Gyda slipped her arm through Kari's and pulled her along to where there was a grouping of lounge chairs. Ivar, Hvitserk and a curly-haired blond reclined with beers in hand.

Kari could feel Ivar's gaze tracing over her form as she approached, like fingers trailing over her skin leaving a fire in its wake. She sneaked a peek at him, only to find his ardent gaze on her. She blushed and kept her eyes downward. At least he did not look impassive anymore, but she still felt hesitant.

"Hey boys. What are we drinking this time?" Gyda questioned.

Hvitserk turned the beer bottle to show the label.

"Ew. I don't why you drink that shit. I'm going to get some wine. Kari, you want some?"

"Ah, sure." She murmured.

"Good. You boys be nice to my friend, especially you Ivar." With that Gyda walked back towards the house but not before giving Kari a subtle wink.

"Take a seat, Kari." Hvitserk gestured to an open chair next to him.

For a split second she considered slinking into the seat, anything for the attention to be taken off her, but realized that was not what she actually wanted. It had been two days since she had seen Ivar and the last time they hung out, it was when he returned from his trip to Italy. He had picked her up the next day to take her out to eat but he ended up spending the majority of the time on his phone, yelling into it in a foreign language and seeming on the verge of throwing his phone or punching a wall. She ended up ordering take-out for them that they ate at her townhouse but he was too wired to really relax and left soon after. The next two days he had been busy with work so they could only text. The one time they managed to Face-Time, she could not help but notice his bruised knuckles and when she asked him about them, he said he did some boxing to release stress.

With butterflies doing somersaults in her belly, she took a step closer to stand near Ivar's lounge chair. Tugging on the hem of her cover as she quietly spoke. "Hey, Ivar. Can I sit with you?"

"Oh, you're acknowledging me now?" He snapped, never removing his severe blue eyes off of her.

She blinked owlishly, surprised by his sharp tone. Her stomach dropped to her feet and she could feel an embarrassed flush rising on her cheeks. "Yeah, I'm sorry." She whispered, dropping her chin, unable to meet his eyes anymore. This was all a mistake, she knew it. This only sealed her poor decision.

Shifting to look back at the house, she wondered if she should find Gyda and beg to drive her back home, or if she should find the closest bus stop. Before she could take a step away, a calloused hand snatched hers in a firm grip. Startled, she looked down to see Ivar holding her hand. Her eyes jumped up to stare at him in shock, confused by his conflicting actions. In those vivid, expressive eyes she could easily read the regret in them. Without her conscious decision, her heart softened.

"Sit." He said quietly, what most likely meant to come out commanding but sounded more as a plea. She nodded and allowed him to guide her onto the wide lounge chair next to him.

A furious blush warmed her cheeks when Ivar wrapped an arm around her waist, tucking her into his side and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. What she assumed was his nonverbal apology.

"Hey, this is Sigurd." Hvitserk said, gesturing to the unknown blond sitting with them. "I don't think you've met him yet. Ubbe had to take a call, so you'll meet him later."

"Hi, it's nice to meet you." She said, looking at the other Lothbrok. He had light blond, curly hair in frazzled braids and brown eyes. At first glance she would not have guessed he was one of the brothers, but she figured genetics were always weird. He had a lean body similar to Hvitserk with a tribal tattoo sleeve and a Thor's hammer necklace laying on his bare chest like the other brothers wore.

He silently raised his beer bottle at her, still stretched out in his chair like a lazy cat in the sun.

Thoughtfully she peered up at Ivar, keeping her voice low. "I'm sorry, I didn't know Gyda was bringing me here otherwise I'd have told you. She literally didn't tell me until we were pulling up."

"It's fine." He murmured evenly, but Kari got the feeling that was not how he truly felt.

"Do….do you want me to leave?"

He sighed, his grip around her tightening for a moment, before he seemed to relax. "No. I'm glad you're here. It won't be boring…." a wolfish grin grew as he slid his hand up her exposed thigh sensually, ".... especially if you take off this cover and let me see what's underneath."

"No!" She squeaked, grabbing his roving hand before it could migrate further.

He chuckled. "Come on, kitten…. just a peek?"

"Ivar, no."

"Why not?"

"Its…. it’s scandalous."

Hvitserk raised his hand, a devious smirk on his face. "I want to see."

She covered her face with her hands, embarrassment flooding her. "Oh gods, this was such a bad idea." Then she had to rapidly grasp Ivar's hand as it slipped under the swimsuit cover to caress her hip and trace her bikini bottom. "Ivar…."

"Fine." He slipped his hand back out but splayed it over her exposed thigh. "You can show me later."

Thankfully, Gyda reappeared with a glass of white wine in each hand and another blond male in tow who carried the wine bottle. He had short, cropped hair and a muscular body that spoke of many hours in the gym. Kari wondered if this was the brother that Ivar regularly worked out with.

"Why are you sitting with Ivar? I brought you here! I'm even bringing you wine!" Gyda teased, handing a glass to Kari.

"You also dragged me here unknowingly. Wine is the least you could do." Kari said without thinking, making the others laugh.

"You know damn well you're happy to be here." Gyda winked then took the open lounge chair next to her. "Right, I'm guessing you've been introduced to Sigurd." She flicked a hand in the curly-haired Lothbrok's direction followed by vaguely gesturing to the last unknown brother. "Now this pain in my ass, over here, is Ubbe. Ubbe, this is Kari."

Sitting between Hvitserk and Gyda, Ubbe rolled his blue eyes but leaned forward to shake Kari's hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Yeah, likewise."

Ubbe sat back with an impish glint in his eyes. "So, you're Ivar's girl?"

"Um…. we’re just..." She started, unsure what to say to his family.

Ivar broke in, his single word answer almost coming out in a growl. "Yes."

She whipped her head to look at him, only for him to stare her down as if waiting to see if she could refute his claim. Logically, she knew she should say something, argue that they were only friends. Yet any rebuttal died on her tongue under his fierce gaze. Instead she chose to sip on her wine generously.

"Right." Ubbe finally said, watching the two with an amused look.

Sigurd scoffed loudly before taking a swig of his beer.

"Something you want to say, Sig?" Ivar turned narrowed eyes at his brother.

The curly-haired brother smirked, seeming to debate saying anything. Finally, he sat up and his gaze zeroed in on Kari. "How much does he pay you to fuck him?"

The reaction from those around was instantaneous. Next to her, Ivar tensed, ready to spring up and fight his brother. A sharp reprimand of "Sigurd!" came from both Gyda and Ubbe while Hvitserk pinched the bridge of his nose.

Something rose up inside Kari though. She understood enough to know about the animosity between Sigurd and Ivar. His comment felt more like a cruel jab at Ivar than her. She was just the pathway to try and cause torment between the brothers. But if no one else was going to stand up and defend the dark-haired Lothbrok, she would.

So instead of taking his words personally, she just smiled sweetly at Sigurd, placing a hand on Ivar's thigh as she responded. "He doesn't. I'm happy to do it for free. Besides, he has something you never will."

"And what's that?"

"A cock big enough to pleasure someone….is that why you go through girlfriends so quickly?"

The rising tension evaporated in a flash. Gyda snorted so hard she almost dropped her wine glass. Hvitserk threw his head back laughing while Ubbe tried to cover his smile with his hand. Kari was sure her eyes were comically wide as what she said without thinking sunk in. Her face flushed and she pressed her face against Ivar's shoulder. Sure, she had meant to defend Ivar but she had not meant to be so crass. The statement seemed to fly out of her mouth before her brain could catch up.

Next to her, Ivar laughed as he nuzzled her. She squirmed under his onslaught but also at realizing she just insulted one of Ivar's brothers. Even if it was the one he liked least of all. For a fleeting moment, the idea she had just made herself an enemy crossed her mind.

When she sneaked a peek, Sigurd quickly drained the rest of his beer and walked away murmuring something about getting another one.

"I think you'll fit in, Kari." Ubbe stated, still trying unsuccessfully to hide his amusement.

Kari was unsure of that. She quickly took a large sip of the wine to settle her fraying nerves. What had she been thinking? It hurt to hear Ivar's brother being so blatantly cruel to him and if this was a regular occurrence, no wonder Ivar wanted to spend most of their time at her place.

"I didn't realize you liked my cock so much, kattungen." Ivar whispered salaciously into her ear, drawing her back to the present. His tongue flicked her earlobe, making her jolt. "I think I'll have to give you a reward later."

She shivered at his tone, her core clenching without resistance. It was unfair how just at his husky tone alone, her body betrayed her desire. But they were in public though, in front of his family no less, so she willfully attempted to cool the heat warming her veins. With a smile, she tried to nudge him away from her but he was too strong, only tightening his grip on her and laying a quick kiss to her neck.

"I can't believe I said that." She whispered, hoping only he heard her.

He smirked, an unmistakable fire in his eyes. "It was sexy as fuck."

Thankfully, Torvi came over to join the group, a welcome distraction for Kari as she was sure the fire in Ivar's gaze was enough to set her ablaze and further stoke her own heat.

Torvi settled into Sigurd's now absent spot. "What did I miss?"

"Kari said Ivar's cock is bigger than Sigurd's." Hvitserk stated smugly.

Torvi stared at Kari with a tilt of her head and an amused grin. "Really? And how did we get on the subject of dicks already?"

Some of the group laughed as Kari covered her face once again, mortified that she was the center of attention because of what she thoughtlessly said. She had the sneaking suspicion none of them would ever let her live this down.

"Alright, enough. Come on, it's girl time now." Gyda grabbed Kari's hand and dragged her to her feet, much to Ivar's obvious chagrin. She scoffed, meeting her half-brother's gaze. "I'll give her back later."

The three women wandered over to some open chairs further down from the guys and closer to the Buddha statue. Gyda carried the wine bottle and her glass while Kari carefully held her own glass. Torvi snatched a beer from a nearby cooler as they meandered over. Gyda settled on a single, lounge chair adjacent to a cushioned two-person seat which the other two sat on.

"Alright, we have a very serious matter to discuss. Your answer may or may not break our friendship." Gyda started, leaning forward as she pointed a single finger at the brunette.

Kari found herself straightening in her seat, hand clutching her wine glass tighter.

Eyes intent, Gyda's voice dropped conspiringly. "Who is sexier: Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes?"

Shock rendered Kari momentarily speechless. At Gyda's serious tone, she had imagined a topic that would involve confessing a secret, not…. not a movie franchise. "Um…. Bucky." She hesitantly answered.

"Yes!!" Gyda shouted, throwing her arms up and almost spilling her wine. "I knew I liked you! Ivar, she is mine now!"

Kari laughed at her enthusiasm; all concern having vanished instantly. "I take it you like him too?"

"Hell yeah. I would willingly choke on his cock or he could pound my pussy to pulp and I wouldn't complain either way."

Torvi shook her head, a hint of a smile tilting the corners of her lips up. "Something's wrong with you."

"You prefer Steve?" Kari inquired, once she recovered from choking on air at Gyda's blunt statement. Her friend always had a way of surprising her, and giving her second-hand embarrassment.

Torvi shrugged. "A tall, handsome blond. That's my kind of man."

Peeking over at Bjorn who was still playing in the pool with both kids, Kari hummed thoughtfully. "Huh. Makes sense."

"No wonder you are with Ivar if you prefer Bucky Barnes."

"But we aren't…. together." Kari fixed her eyes on her wine, knowing her answer sounded lame even to her own ears.

Gyda patted her leg. "You keep telling yourself that."

"We're just friends."

"No, you aren't."

"Kari, it's fine." Torvi shot Gyda a look. "It's between you two, it's not really our business."

"She's our friend!" Gyda whined, throwing herself back in her seat dramatically.

"And she will let us know if something changes. Including telling us if Ivar does something stupid and we need to kick his ass."

Kari giggled as Torvi tapped her beer bottle against her wine glass. "I promise. Hvitserk already made me swear too."

"Good. So is Ivar really that good in bed?"

"Gyda!" Kari exclaimed but laughed at how shameless her friend was.

Torvi thankfully changed the topic of conversation to Ubbe's birthday coming up next month. Asa wandered over, wrapped in a green and brown towel with long ears sticking out that made her look like baby Yoda. When Sigurd eventually appeared, Hali dragged him to the pool where they jumped in together. Not long after, Hvitserk joined them, doing a cannon-ball with the splash almost hitting the ladies.

Kari chatted with Torvi and Gyda for some time, enjoying herself immensely. The topics varied, but she never felt unincluded. More than once, she glanced over, only to find Ivar's gaze already on her. After the third time, he tipped his head to the side and patted the spot next to him. A not-so subtle invitation or demand, depending on how you looked at it.

A smile teased her lips and she nodded. She started to rise, with her second glass of wine in hand, when the sound of a loud "shit" from Gyda distracted her.

"What is she doing here?" Torvi quietly asked with an undertone of frustration.

Curious, Kari followed their gazes towards the door leading into the glassed-in porch. She was met with the sight of two blondes emerging in matching, white swimsuits that barely seemed to cover anything. Both strutted as if they were on a runway, while chatting with one another.

"Kari, go sit with Ivar." Gyda encouraged, snatching her hand and leading her back without a moment's hesitation towards where Ivar and Ubbe were still sitting. The wine was left forgotten on the side table.

"What's going on?" Kari asked in a hushed tone.

"Drama. I can't believe that bitch brought her. What was she thinking?"

"Gyda?"

She clicked her tongue but hurriedly whispered back. "That's Ivar's ex."

Surprise made Kari almost stumble but she managed to catch herself at the last second. Further explanations had to wait because they came upon the brothers at the same time the two blondes did. Soon as Kari was close enough, Ivar held out his hand, a sweet gesture, but she could see the tension and anger in the set of his shoulders and the thin line of his lips. Silently, he guided her to sit between his spread legs, arms banding around her waist and pulling her indecently close. For once though, she did not complain.

"Hey, baby." One of the blondes said in a sickly-sweet voice as she pressed a kiss to Ubbe's cheek. "Sorry we're late."

"It's fine." Ubbe slowly answered as he shifted his gaze to the other blonde. "I didn't know you were bringing someone."

"This is supposed to be family only." Gyda snapped, having dropped into her seat next to Ivar and Kari.

The blonde, who stood next to Ubbe still, narrowed her eyes at Kari. "Then why is she here?"

"That's Ivar's girlfriend." Ubbe answered.

"Uh, hi, I'm Kari." She decided to speak up, hoping introductions would somehow break the rising tension. At her words, Ivar momentarily dropped his head to kiss her shoulder. Unsure if his actions were encouraging or reprimanding, she laid her hands over his, which were still wrapped around her.

"Hmmm…. Margrethe." She replied flatly, with a pinched look, as if talking to Kari was beneath her. "I'm Ubbe's fiancé."

The other blonde smiled pleasantly as she looked Kari in the eye. "I'm Freydis. It's lovely to meet you."

"Yeah, nice to meet you too." Kari managed to say around the suddenly tightened grip around her waist. She would be a liar if she said she was not intimidated by Freydis. While both women were beautiful, something that seemed required to be in the presence of the Lothbrok family, Freydis was a step beyond that. With her doll-like features, lovely blue eyes and flawless skin, she was gorgeous. Kari could feel all her own insecurities screaming at her in the presence of Ivar's ex. How the youngest Lothbrok went from someone as stunning as Freydis to as girl-next-door as Kari, she had no idea….and it made her uncomfortable.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" Ivar demanded, ignoring Freydis' presence completely.

Margrethe rolled her eyes as her hand slowly stroked across Ubbe's shoulders. "I get bored and wanted to spend time with my best friend, so fuck off." She turned her head to look at Freydis beside her. "Come on, let's get something to drink."

After a quick kiss to Ubbe, the two headed back towards the house but not before Freydis glanced back at Ivar and Kari one last time.

Once they were far enough away, Gyda rounded on Ubbe, not even bothering to contain her ire. "Fiancé? Really, Ubbe?" She sneered.

"Hell no. I haven't proposed. I damn well don't plan to and she knows it."

"Why are you still with her? She's a greedy bitch."

"Gyda, I know you don't like her but she's still my girlfriend."

"Who the fuck knows why."

Ubbe turned his attention to Ivar. "I swear I didn't know she was bringing Freydis. I'd have told her not to come then."

"As long as she stays the fuck away from me, I don't give a shit." The dark-haired Lothbrok growled at his older brother.

The residual tension in the air was painful to abide in. It felt like a caged animal, pacing, waiting, ready for the moment to unleash a terrorizing attack.

"Hey, I have a question." Kari blurted out, unable to take the way the tension made her skin feel like it was being sunburned. Once Gyda and Ubbe shifted to watch her, she posed her question. "Ah, well, I've been wondering for a while but why don't you guys have bodyguards or something?"

Ivar snorted, brushing her hair over her shoulder to press his face into the crook of her neck, making her squirm although he did not relent his position.

It was Ubbe that answered with a wide grin. "Eh, we don't need them. We can handle ourselves."

"But you guys have drivers, isn't the next step to have bodyguards?"

"You worried for us?" Ivar whispered, nipping at her skin, only to soothe the spot with his tongue.

"I'm serious."

"Let's just say we know how to protect ourselves. Besides, no one is stupid enough to come after us." Ubbe concluded, raising his beer in a mock salute.

Gyda snickered. "This is why I stay out of the family business."

"You've no issue spending Father's money though." Ubbe retorted in a jovial way.

She shrugged and sent Kari a playful wink.

A minute later, Bjorn, Torvi and Asa came over, taking open seats with Asa sitting in Torvi's lap. Even though Kari had met Bjorn before, it still shocked her to see how much larger he was compared to the other brothers, both in size and physique. Now sitting next to Torvi, he appeared larger. With his long, braided ponytail and shaved sides, a short beard and sharp, blue eyes, he seemed quite formidable. Kari wondered briefly if that helped with the family business.

"See Kari there, she is the one who teaches yoga." Torvi softly said to Asa.

Asa peeked over at Kari, shyly smiling, still wrapped in her towel but with a juice box in hand.

"I bet if you ask nicely, she might show you something." Torvi said then looked up at Kari. "Lately she loves watching me do yoga at home. It's cute when she tries to do it with me."

Bjorn chuckled, slinging an arm over the back of his wife's chair. "And usually falls down onto her face."

"Hey, she's trying!" Torvi defended, elbowing Bjorn in the side.

Looking at the little girl across the circle of seats, Kari smiled. "Want me to show you something I've been working on? I'm not very good at it though, so if I fall over, you can laugh at me. I'll be laughing at myself too."

Asa nodded fervently, eyes wide in anticipation.

"What do you say?" Torvi tapped her daughter's nose.

Asa looked up at her mom then back to Kari. "Please." Even though it came out sounding more like "peas".

"Sure. I need to stretch some first." Kari stood up and immediately had to slap Ivar's hand away that prowled down the curve of her ass. She tried to glare at him over her shoulder, only to be met with a mock innocence. Overly aware of the eyes on her, she chose a spot nearby in the plush, green grass, trying to keep her nerves to a minimum. Carefully, she warmed up her muscles, doing a few simple stretches so as not to hurt herself. Honestly, she was nervous since she never did advanced poses in front of others. It was not that she was unable to, for she did them frequently at home on her own time. It just felt like she was vying for attention or trying to show off when she did advanced poses in view of others. Conflicting memories of her grandmother's encouraging voice fought with her mother's reprimand in her mind as she stretched.

"What are you going to do?" Gyda called over, returning from retrieving her wine glass and bottle.

The question pulled her from her mind's internal war, bringing her back to the present. "Um, it's called the super soldier."

"Oooo, I like it already."

Once stretched, Kari stood frozen for a moment realizing she was going to need to take her cover off to do the pose.

"Kari, you look sexy as hell, now take the damn cover off." Gyda called out.

Kari hesitated, fears and insecurities rising afresh within her.

"Do it or Ivar will get his ass up and help you. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"I hate you." She mumbled but gave in. Slowly, she walked back over to the circle of chairs, pulling the white cover off and dropped it on the lounge chair Ivar still sat on. Her eyes briefly flickered up only to meet Ivar's smoldering gaze. Instantly, she could feel herself flush. Hoping no one noticed, she moved back to her grassy spot. A loud wolf-whistle came from the direction of the pool, most likely from Hvitserk but Kari ignored it, knowing if she thought about it too much, she would make a run for it. Mentally preparing herself, she pulled her hair back into a bun on the nape of her neck, then faced the group but kept her gaze downward, too scared to look at them.

After taking a deep breath, she bent over to lay her hands flat on the grass without bending her knees. Next, she hooked her right shoulder behind her knee and extended her left arm for balance. She took a long, deep breath before continuing onward. Then she lifted her left foot and grabbed it with her right hand, still tucked behind her right leg. After another deep breath, she pulled her left leg up until her knee was pointed towards the sky. She held it there for three breaths before slowly releasing her leg back down and carefully straightening back up.

A small round of applause greeted her when she straightened.

"Another!"

"You go, Kari!"

"Do another one!"

Blushing furiously at the cheers, she leaned forward into downward facing dog. Carefully, she slid her hands forward until her elbows touched the grass with her ass still in the air. Taking a deep breath and hoping she did not make a fool of herself, she engaged her core and kicked her legs up so she was doing a handstand but still on her elbows. Once she felt stable, she pressed her legs together and slowly bent her knees until they were almost parallel with her forearms on the ground. Feeling the burn in her core and arms, she hoped she could finish the pose without falling on her face. Next, she lowered her legs, knees apart now and big toes touching until her feet touched the top of her head. She could not help the smile that stretched across her face as she held the pose for a couple seconds, making sure to breathe slow. Scorpion pose was one she was still trying to master on her own, let alone in front of others. If anything, this felt like a victory for her. Methodically she unfurled, bringing her legs up and then back to the ground.

When she finally stood up, brushing the grass off her forearms, it was to another round of applause.

"That was amazing!" Torvi said.

"I was thinking sexy as fuck!" Hvitserk exclaimed, a smile on his face from where he now stood, leaning against Ubbe's chair.

Self-consciously, Kari tugged on her swimsuit, making sure everything was tucked into place, as much as it could be, before pulling her hair out of the bun. She walked back over to the lounge chair quickly and yanked the cover back over her body.

"I'm going to wash my hands." She said without meeting anyone's eyes, skirting around the group and heading towards the glassed-in porch.

Laughter erupted behind her as she approached the door but she ignored it as she walked inside. She padded through the porch, stomach twisting in knots, and turned into the kitchen. Her feet stuttered to a halt as she noticed Margrethe and Freydis standing there with bottles of something in hand. For a split second she thought about turning and heading to the bathroom but it was too late as the two blondes noticed her intrusion.

"Hi, I just need to wash my hands." Kari explained. After a moment's hesitation, she walked around the opposite side of the massive island from them and towards the kitchen sink.

"So, you're Ivar's girlfriend?" Margrethe stated with a mocking undertone. "I didn't think someone like you was his…. type."

"Margrethe…." Freydis chided.

"What? Look at her. I mean she's got tits and an ass, and I guess she could be pretty but that's it."

"I'm sorry." Freydis apologized kindly. After a long, awkward pause where the kitchen was silent besides Kari washing her hands, she asked, "How long have you and Ivar been together?"

"Um, we aren't…. we’re just friends." Kari found herself admitting, as she finished drying her hands and turned around to see them both staring at her. Though Freydis had a gentle smile on her face, Margrethe looked nothing less than the cat that caught the canary and planned on lording it over everyone.

"Oh?"

"See. Told you, Dis. He is still single." Margrethe smugly said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "He's just playing the game."

"Game?" Kari muttered aloud.

Freydis set her glass down and came around the island to stand in front of Kari. Her blue eyes were bright as they met Kari's. "You seem like a nice girl and clearly the others like you too. So, I'll be honest because I don't want you to get caught up in the Lothbrok drama and get hurt. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Ivar and I are getting back together. We're just taking a break right now. Truly, I know we are destined for each other and he agrees. We had a bad fight and needed some space but he loves me just as much as I love him. So, I know he will come back to me when he is ready. I'm so sorry to tell you that you're just the rebound girl. I'm sure he likes you but that's as far as it will ever go. Gyda likes to try and mess with the brothers' love lives so I am sorry if she dragged you into this without telling you the whole truth. It's not your fault. I am sure Gyda lied to you and probably Ivar too. But it's good for you to know now. I don't hold it against you if you've have had sex with him but just know your time with him is limited, okay? How long have you two been 'friends'?"

"We met last month." Kari whispered, dread and despair a writhing mess of snakes churning in her stomach. Air refused to fill her lungs, leaving her struggling for breath.

Freydis sighed. "It probably will be soon then. Just take advantage of the things he purchases for you, so when he leaves, you can have something to sell if you're in a pinch. Yeah?"

"Ah…. sure."

"Good. You seem like a nice girl. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this."

"It's…." Kari choked back a sudden sob. "It's alright. Thank you."

"Of course, we girls need to look out for each other. Is there anything I can do for you?" She inquired, sounding so genuine in her desire to help, her gaze imploring and lips in a faint, comforting smile.

"No…. no. I just need to check my phone. Have you seen Gyda's bag?"

"I think she left it on the porch." Margrethe helpfully added, never having lost the smug grin on her face as she watched Kari with a hawk-like intensity.

"Oh, right. Thank you." Kari shifted back and forth on her feet, body primed to run, to flee before anyone could see the tears that welled pathetically in her eyes.

Freydis reached out and squeezed her arm, a brief exchange of understanding, then strutted back around to grab her drink and follow Margrethe to the porch and outside.

Once alone, Kari pressed a hand over her mouth to try and stifle the sob that lodged itself in her throat. She knew it. Everything Freydis said made sense.

Without a second thought, she rushed around the island and onto the porch, quickly locating Gyda's bag. She scooped her purse and clothes out only to hurry back inside. A quick check of the time and she figured she might be able to catch a bus, but in this gated community, there was no way buses came through so she would end up walking somewhere. Feeling the sting of tears in her eyes, she sniffled, trying desperately to hold them back. She looked up the nearest bus stop on her phone, pleased it was only a few blocks away from the gated community.

Once positive she knew where she was going, she stared down at her clothes on the counter, wondering if she should change before leaving. It would certainly look odd for her to be walking down the street in the swimsuit cover and sandals in such an upscale neighborhood. Then she thought about any of the Lothbroks finding her trying to leave and pushed the potential oddity of her attire from her mind. It appeared there was a gas station nearby when she found the bus stop, it would be simple to change there quickly. Somehow she could give the swimsuit and cover back to Torvi…. but not today. Right now, she needed to leave.

She tried to shove her clothes into her purse, only succeeding by making it look like an over-inflated balloon but it worked. Lastly, she reached to grab her phone off the kitchen counter but froze. Ivar bought it for her. Freydis' words came back to her about taking advantage of the things he bought for her. Bile burned the back of her throat at the idea. She promised herself she would not be one of those girls to him. Slowly, she retracted her hand, forming it into a fist by her side. Ivar could give the phone to Freydis or throw it in the trash for all she cared. Even with the feeling of her heart being ripped in two, she refused to take advantage of him or his money. She was a better person than that. Or so she hoped.

Worried someone would come in soon, she tossed her purse over her shoulder and swiftly headed towards the front door. She passed through the hallway she entered in, but the pictures and awards blurred before her eyes as the repressed tears threatened to make an appearance. Hastily, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand but knew it was ultimately futile.

"Kari?"

Her stride never faltered towards her escape, even after hearing Hvitserk call her name from what sounded like the porch.

"Kari? Where are you going?" His voice came from behind her, probably standing at the entrance of the hallway now.

"I have to go." Kari said, not bothering to turn around, unsure if he could even hear her. She could barely hear footsteps behind her over the sound of her sniffles and ragged breathing. It did not matter since she was close to her escape, just a couple more moments. Her hand touched the handle, just beginning to pull the door open when Hvitserk's hand appeared in her direct line of vision and slammed it closed. Although the sound was muffled, it echoed in her mind like a gunshot.

"What's going on?" Hvitserk stood directly behind her, his hand still firmly planted on the door as if to prevent her from even considering leaving without permission again.

"It's nothing." She murmured, staring down at her feet.

"I seriously doubt that if you are trying to sneak away while crying…. what happened?"

"Nothing. I just…. I just want to go home."

"Okay." He shifted to lean his shoulder against the door, ducking his head to try and catch her eyes. "Does this have to do with the yoga stuff?"

"No. Just…. please, Hvitserk."

"You need to tell me something. Look, I'll give you a ride, we can leave right now but you have to tell me what happened."

She swallowed thickly, still refusing to look at him. It was taking all of her willpower to keep the tears at bay. At any moment she felt the tears would come forth with all the power of a hurricane, reducing her to a sniveling mess on the floor, nursing a broken heart. It was all her fault though. How could she have believed someone like Ivar Lothbrok would actually be interested in her for more than just a one-night stand. She was just a challenge for him, someone to pass the time. Then once she gave in, once they finally had sex, he would walk out of her life and back into Freydis' arms and bed…. where he apparently belonged.

"Kari?" Hvitserk softly prompted.

"It's…. I just have a better understanding now…. of where I stand…. of my purpose here."

"Your purpose?"

She sniffed, wiping her wet eyes once again before the tears fell. "I'm just a rebound girl….and that's alright. I get it. But I just want to go home now."

"Fuck. Freydis said that, didn't she?"

"It doesn't matter. Can you please just take me to the bus stop, I can get home from there." She knew she was begging but she did not care anymore.

"Kari, give me that." He grabbed her purse from her and tossed it onto a wooden side table. His hands held hers in a manner that was comforting verse restraining. His thumbs rubbed along the back of her hands as he softly spoke. "Look at me, you know it's not like that."

"It doesn't matter." She shook her head, even as her hands gripped his tighter, the feeling being the only thing keeping her from falling apart at the front door. "I shouldn't have let Gyda bring me here. I should have made her drop me off."

"Kari…." He began but was interrupted.

"Hvitty?" Ivar's loud voice boomed from the kitchen. "You better not be trying to fuck Kari!"

Kari flinched at the sound. The facade of strength she fought to maintain evaporated like smoke. The tears she had been trying so desperately to withhold slipped free, rolling down her cheeks like a cleansing rain.

"Over here!" Hvitserk called back, releasing her hands but not moving away.

Ivar's measured gait could be heard coming down the hallway like the footsteps of doom.

"What the fuck is going on? You disappear to find Kari and then…." His voice trailed off as he entered the foyer, piercing gaze zeroing in on her tear-stained face. What sense of jovial teasing transformed into enraged fury. When he spoke next, it came out in an animalistic growl that bespoke impending violence. "Who fucking hurt you?"

"I'm fine." She mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. Her chin rested on her chest, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I just want to go home."

"Freydis….and I'm betting Margrethe also said something to her." Hvitserk snitched, leaning fully against the door. He watched both Kari and his brother as if ready to intervene at a moment's notice.

Ivar snapped, stepping closer. "What did they say?"

She was unsure who he directed his question to but she still shook her head, refusing to look at either brother. Hearing his wrath, it only made her heart ache more. All of this was a show, it had to be. Why would he truly care? The sound of his heavy gait coming closer brought a fresh wave of silent tears.

Moving to her other side, he cupped her cheek. When she resisted looking at him, he shifted his hand to grab the back of her neck, forcing her gaze to meet his. A tempest swirled in his icy blue eyes. "What. Did. They. Say?"

"Why does it matter?" She questioned, bottom lip trembling as a sob rose from her chest.

"Because they hurt you."

"But I'm no one. I don't matter." She shook her head, pressing a hand over her mouth to contain the cries bound to escape at any moment. "You're just going to get back together with Freydis when you get bored with me."

His eyes widened as if she had sucker-punched him. His mouth dropped open for a moment before he collected himself, the maelstrom rippling under his skin on the verge of breaking free. "Did they say that?"

"Freydis said…. she said you two were just taking a break….and I'm the rebound girl."

"Fuck. Fuck!" Ivar stepped away, running his hands through his loose hair. In an instant, he grabbed the decorative bowl off the entrance table and threw it. The shattering against the wall reverberated in the foyer followed by Ivar's guttural shout. "FUCK!"

"Ivar." Hvitserk softly said, warily watching his younger brother.

"I'm going to kill her. Fuck! I can't believe she would fucking say that!" Ivar ran his hands through his hair again, looking on the verge of ripping the strands out. The ferocity in his eyes was unmatched as he glanced down the hallway, clearly wanting to go after his ex, then shifted back to Kari, who remained silent and unmoving. "What else did she say?" He barked at her.

"You're destined for each other." She confessed after a moment's hesitation.

Ivar stormed over to her, devouring the ground beneath his feet as he invaded her space. Standing before her, he cupped her face, eyes imploring her to believe him. "Freydis is a crazy, jealous bitch. She manipulates to get what she wants. Don't believe a word out of her fucking mouth. Fuck! Please, Kari, don't cry. I'm right here, kitten."

His words seeped into her mind, slipping in through the cracks and delving deep into her soul. His words alone should not have reassured her like they did. Between his pleading eyes and his gentle touch, her few walls surrounding her heart crumbled, unable to fight him. She believed him, even before her mind fully recognized it.

She lightly placed her hands on his bare chest, one directly over his heart, feeling the rapid tempo under her fingers. "Promise?" She whispered wetly. "You're not just…. I’m not just a rebound girl?"

Ivar groaned, pressing his forehead to Kari's. "I swear. I never thought that about you."

And she believed him again. The truth falling from his lips resounded in the very core of her being. It made no sense how she knew, but somehow, she did.

After a long second, Hvitserk pushed off the door from next to them. "I'm going to head back and keep an eye on them. Kari, if you still want a ride just text me, alright?"

"Thank you, Hvitty." She reached out and snagged his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. With a smile, he responded in kind before heading down the hallway towards the backyard.

Soon as Hvitserk started walking away, Ivar grabbed her hand and led her in the opposite direction. They hurried through a short hallway to arrive at a closed door. Impatiently, Ivar thrust the door open and pulled her into a room, slamming the door shut behind them. She had a brief moment to scan the new room and notice the two walls with floor to ceiling bookshelves packed full and the couple couches near a large window.

Before she could do anything, she shrieked as she found herself suddenly yanked back, her body colliding with the closed door. Immediately Ivar's mouth claimed hers in a hungry, feverish kiss. His body pinned her to the door, hands kneading her hips. It was all she could do to just breathe. Her hands clung to his broad shoulders, desperate to stay above the waves of passion-fueled desire that surged unchecked within her.

Ivar withdrew his mouth from hers, but only to place kisses over her cheeks, washing away her tears with his affections. "Don't listen to her. Her and I. We are through. I will never go back to her. She has been sniffing around but that ends tonight. I won't fucking let her talk to you again. I fucking swear it."

"Ivar…." She whined, tilting her head. An open invitation which he took.

He swooped in, continuing to speak between leaving open-mouth kisses on her neck. "It's you. It's you I want. It's you I think about all the time. Fuck, kitten, you have no idea how much I want you. And seeing you do those yoga poses in that swimsuit…. fuck! You looked so goddamn sexy; I got a hard-on just watching." He grabbed her thigh, lifting it up and curling it behind him, pressing himself against her core. At the touch of his hardened length against her, she whimpered. "Do you feel that? That's for you, søte Kari."

She could not help but roll her hips, grinding against his erection, body automatically seeking friction.

"Yes! Fuck." He growled against her neck. "Come here."

She whined when he released her leg, letting it fall down to the floor. Her breathing was unsteady already, heart hammering away in her chest. A part of her knew she should stop this, open the door behind her and walk out to avoid the temptation. Yet when his hand latched onto hers once again, tugging her towards one of the couches, she followed willingly, unable to deny the sweet sin that was Ivar.

He dropped onto the couch and settled her into his lap to straddle him. As she settled, he grabbed a handful of the cover over her and yanked it off, tossing it haphazardly onto the floor. Her first instinct was to cover her chest, but as her arms moved to do that, Ivar guided them behind his head. His gaze drunk in the curves of her body, an unashamed starved look in his eyes that made her shudder as it further ignited the fire in her belly.

"Kattungen min." He whispered reverently. "Fucking hell, so gorgeous. No one else gets to touch you like I do. Got it? You're mine." He started lavishing her chest and neck with his mouth, alternating between his lips and tongue.

She knew she should feel more self-conscious straddling Ivar's lap in only the swimsuit that barely covered all of her assets; but it was as if his touch banished the thoughts away. Instead she felt beautiful and cherished.

He palmed one of her breasts and the moan that escaped her was pure wanton. Hands tangled in his long locks as her hips ground harder against his erection in response. His leg braces were only an afterthought that did not impede her actions.

"Ivar, please."

"That's it. Fuck, you're so beautiful. I can't wait to fuck you senseless."

Suddenly he shifted under her, his hand fumbling between them. Her mind barely took notice as he sucked the skin between her breasts, something that would definitely leave a mark. Next thing she knew, his cock was freed, standing at attention between them.

Before she could protest, he spoke up. "I know you're not ready." He slid it under her, pulling her hips back down. At the sensation of his cock rubbing her slit with only the thin barrier of the bikini bottom between them, she threw her head back with a whine. Desire roared through her like a freight train as his cock rubbed against her soaking core.

"You like that, kitten?"

"Yes." She sighed out, head tilted back as she rolled her hips.

"Good, my turn." He reached behind her and promptly untied the straps of the bikini top behind her back.

"Ivar!" She tried to cover herself but he swatted her hands away.

"Trust me."

Once she relented, he laid a hard kiss to her lips then tugged the top over her head, the band behind her neck without a tie. She desperately wanted to cover herself, now before him feeling on full display. But it was the look on his face that stilled her movements.

"Guder. Du er utsøkt. Faen. Den vakreste kvinnen." He murmured with adoration and awe dripping off each word.

"What did you say?"

Instead of answering her, he lowered his face to her chest and captured one of her perky nipples in his mouth. His other hand moved to grab one of her ass cheeks, encouraging her to keep riding him.

All breath vanished from her lungs. All thoughts and insecurities fled under his touch. Her hands tangled in his hair, keeping his mouth on her. All she could feel was him. All she wanted to feel was him. Gasps and moans slipped from her as she allowed herself to be overtaken and drawn into an ocean of pleasure.

She could feel herself rising higher and higher, riding the wave. Her mind was becoming delirious from fire in her veins and the motion of her hips rocking over his exposed cock.

To her surprise, Ivar grabbed a handful of hair at the back of her neck. "That's it, beautiful. Fuck. Let's see what that bendy spine can do." Carefully, he pulled on her hair, not in a painful way but as if to guide her. Willingly submitting herself, she bent her back, following his lead. When her chest was parallel to the ceiling, he stopped pulling, keeping her suspended with her back arched.

Ivar groaned loudly, thrusting against her. She met his action, too absorbed in the bliss to care about decency.

"All the dirty, fucking things this makes me want to do to you." He licked a scalding line up her sternum, only to swirl his tongue around one of her nipples, making her mewl as she continued to move her hips faster. "Come for me."

"Yes, yes." She chanted. "Ivar, please."

"Keep begging, kitten. Let me know how much you want my cock."

As her climax hit, the tightening coil in her core sprung loose, her mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Wave after wave rolled over her. She could feel Ivar grunt and thrust a few more times beneath her before retracing his cock and spurting onto her exposed stomach. After he released her hair, letting her rise back up to face him. Their eyes fixated on one another, chests heaving as they struggled for breath.

Gently, she reached out and touched his cheek, a shy smile on her face. Then, when he made no move to pull away, she leaned forward, uncaring of his cum slipping down her stomach, and drew him into a lazy, slow kiss. He responded, lips melding to hers in a way that was full of softness and contentment. After a moment, she felt him reach behind him for the blanket laying on the back of the couch and wipe her stomach off, all the while never abandoning their kiss.

Once she was clean, he dropped the blanket to the floor and somehow managed to keep their lips locked as he guided them to lay down on the couch, their bare chests pressed together and his arm under her head, legs tangled.

"Do you believe me now?" He eventually asked, leaning back but only far enough so the tips of their noses almost touched.

"Mmmm?"

"That it's you I want. Freydis and anyone else can go fuck themselves for all I care."

She bit her bottom lip and dropped her gaze. "I don't understand why."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean…. Margrethe said I'm not your…. type."

He snorted and muttered under his breath, "fucking bitch".

"But she's right." Kari pressed onward, her hand running up and down his side as if to ground herself. "I mean, I could never compare to Freydis…. or Torvi or Gyda or any of them. They are all beautiful and….and in perfect shape. I'm not. My thighs and butt are too big and I'm maybe pretty but that's it."

"You're right. You're not my usual type. But those girls, I'd fuck them and then never look their way again. You though, fuck, I can barely take my eyes off you when you're around. And these," he reached down and grabbed a handful of one of her ass cheeks, making her squeak. "I love them. And these thighs, fucking hell, kitten, I want you to suffocate me with them when I finally eat you out."

She gasped, a bolt of electricity shooting through her at the image.

A devilish grin grew on his face, his hand stroking her ass cheek. "You like that idea? My tongue teasing your folds before slipping inside of you. Your thighs wrapped around my head as I feast on your pussy."

"Ivar." She whined, unable to stop the sudden roll of her hips.

"Soon, sweet Kari." He chuckled darkly, ceasing her movement by melding their hips together. "And your tits, gods, they are perfect. I could stare at them all day."

She giggled even as she flushed under his praise. "I'm sorry for doubting you. I guess, I'm still just surprised you'd…. well, that you want me."

"You are mine. You're my woman." He stated resolutely, gazing directly into her eyes so she could see how serious he was.

"But we aren't dating…."

"Doesn't fucking matter. You're mine. And one of these days you'll change your mind and stop playing this game of trying to keep me away."

She sighed, wishing it would be that easy. Before he could continue with that argument, she changed the subject. "You know, I think we exceeded our kiss quota for the day."

He snorted. "I didn't see you complaining earlier."

"That's true. Do you think we should head back out?"

"If I see Freydis or Margrethe right now…." His voice trailed off, but the fury from earlier lingered in the unspoken threat.

"I know. We don't have too. I'm okay right here."

A grateful smile on his lips, he kissed her quickly then rolled her onto her back and laid his head on her chest. They relaxed like that for several minutes in silence, her hand running through his hair, just enjoying the feeling of complacency and peace between them now after their fight. If you could even call it that.

Finally, she spoke up in a hushed tone, a random question coming to mind. "Do you ever get in the pool?"

"No."

"Oh." Was all she could say after his sharp, barbed answer. Clearly it was a subject that was not open for discussion. Her mind wandered, wondering what happened to cause such a response from him. An uncomfortable tension hung over them after his response. Something she was not sure if she should try and dissipate or ignore for now.

After a minute of continued silence, he kissed her chest, letting his lips linger there as if using the extra time to mentally prepare himself. Before she could tell him it was none of her business, he spoke. His tone was quiet and, in anyone else, almost shaky.

"I…. I used to try when I was younger. They'd put me on one of those stupid floating things and pull me around or someone would hold me. Then, when I was about seven…. Sigurd and I got in a big fight earlier that day. He claimed I broke one of his toys. Fucking asshole. I was sitting by the pool, this in our childhood home in Kattegat, I liked to watch things float on the water. Sigurd walked by me and….and pushed me over the edge."

She gasped. "Oh Ivar…."

"Ubbe jumped in and pulled my half-drown ass out." He nuzzled against her skin; his tone having lost the insecurity as he reassured her. "I'm alright, Kari."

She drew his face up and gave him a long kiss, their mouth connecting with a deeper need and alleviation. "Remind me to thank Ubbe when I see him next."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't. He's never let me forget the fact."

"Still."

They laid there for some more time, wrapped up in one another and content in the peaceful stillness. She could not help but think about the memory Ivar shared with her. How far back did that resentment go between the brothers? Had there ever been a time where they cared for one another? And how bad was the animosity between them if one was willing to kill the other, even as children? If her arms tightened around him, neither one mentioned it as they continued to lay there.

A loud knock on the door followed by a yell through the door of "are you two done yet?" disturbed their peace.

"Hvits, fuck off!" Ivar called back, burrowing his face between her breasts.

"Do you have clothes on at least?!"

"I do!"

Kari swatted the back of Ivar's head at his admission. Leaning up slightly, he gave her a cheeky wink before laying his head back down.

"Well cover up, I'm coming in!" Hvitserk yelled through the door.

"Ivar, get up." Kari softly said, a panic setting in at the brother coming in and seeing them in this suggestive position and her topless.

"No." He mumbled.

Before she could shove him off, he snatched the throw blanket off the floor and threw it over his head to cover her chest. As she began to protest, the door cautiously opened. In an instant, she tried to spread out the blanket over them as best as she could, keeping the blanket over her chest and spread it somewhat over their torsos. Although how much good it did was questionable. She peered over to see Hvitserk standing in the doorway with an amused look before shaking his head and stepping in, closing the door behind him.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ivar asked, muffled by the blanket and his face still pressed against her skin.

Kari raised her gaze to the ceiling for a moment then mouthed to Hvitserk, "I'm sorry."

Hvitserk winked at her before answering. "Bjorn and Torvi want everyone together before they leave. Sounds like they have an announcement or something."

"Are the bitches still here?"

"Yeah." Hvitserk sighed.

"Then no."

"I'll go." Kari softly said. "It must be important."

"No, you aren't." Ivar nipped at the side of her breast, making her squirm.

"Well everyone is waiting on you two." Hvitserk pointed out as he watched, clearly entertained if his broad grin said anything.

"I'm coming."

Ivar pulled the blanket back slightly to stare up at her. "Why the fuck do you want to see them?"

"Is it….is it terrible I want to show Frey…. her that I'm still here. That no matter what they said, that I'm not going anywhere."

A positively, feral grin spread over his face. He swooped in and pressed a devastating kiss to her mouth, not letting up until she thought she would suffocate from the intensity of it. "Let's go."

He started to rise up but when she squeaked and tried to clutch the blanket to her, he froze.

"Hvits, leave."

"You sure I can't stay?" His smirk grew as he caught Kari's eye and watched her flush deepen.

"GO!" Ivar bellowed, glaring at his older brother.

"Fine. I'll wait out here for you. If you're not out in three minutes, I'm coming back in." Hvitserk stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

Ivar carefully slid off of her, standing up beside the couch, the blanket in hand. His predatory, blue eyes remained trained on her form, raking over her body like a sweet he wanted to devour completely. A familiar warmth awakened in her core, even as she shyly glanced away, covering her naked breasts with her hands.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous. On second thought, I think we should stay. I need another taste of you and to hear you moaning my name for everyone to fucking hear."

She squealed, quickly skirting away from him before he could pounce on her. "Ivar, no!" Yet, miraculously, he managed to snag an arm around her waist and drag her back against his chest.

"Should we make an announcement of our own?" He asked, running his nose along the shell of her ear, chuckling under his breath when she shivered against him.

"What do you mean?"

"That you're my girlfriend. That this just-friends is shit."

"I…." She balked, eyes wide and heart beating a painful staccato in her chest. “We…. we can't."

"Why the fuck not?" He grasped her breasts, rolling her peaked nipples between his fingers.

She practically swallowed her tongue, biting back the moan lodged in her throat. When she was positive she could control her voice, she replied. "We've talked about this. I'm just…. I’m not ready."

"But you'll practically let me fuck you?"

At his harsh snap, she tried to push out of his embrace, unwilling to have this conversation in their current predicament or maybe have the conversation at all. The innate desire to flee rose up in her but she tried to force it down as she squirmed in his arms. He held her firm, not giving up an inch, her body flush against his own.

"Ivar!"

"What aren't you telling me?"

She hated both herself and him in the moment as she ceased her escape attempts. She hated him for continuously pushing her, for ignoring her words and trying to force her where he wanted her to be. Even more though, she hated herself. If she had kept away from him, however unlikely that was, if she did not have to hide, then none of this would matter. If she could be honest, truly honest, he would most likely reject her. And that was why she hated herself most. Because she was selfish and wanted his attention and affection, even knowing if he knew who she truly was, he would walk away.

Carefully, she turned her head to meet his stormy eyes. "I promise one day I will. I just…. can we please just enjoy this? What we have? I just need…. time."

He stared down at her for a long time. She wondered what he read in her face when he finally gave a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'm telling people you are my girlfriend though."

"You're unbelievable."

"I think you like that about me." He matched her smile with his own before letting her go.

She quickly found her bikini top, noticing Ivar not-so-subtly adjusting his sweatpants. She slipped it over her head but when she went to tie the straps, a pair of calloused hands covered hers. Without a word, he tied it behind her back. Once done, his hand slowly prowled down her back to lightly smack her ass.

"Hey!" She whipped around, only to see a Cheshire grin on his face.

"That's my sexy ass."

"Oh my god. Unbelievable." She muttered to herself as she snatched up the cover and pulled it over. She looked down at the blanket piled on the floor.

"Leave it. I'll deal with it later." He took her hand and walked with her towards the door. When they opened it, a still-shirtless Hvitserk stood leaning against the wall across from them.

"Took you two long enough. Damn. Almost came in and threw Kari over my shoulder to get you out."

Ivar spat something out in their language that made Hvitserk roll his eyes. Before they could move further down the hallway, Hvitserk reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, freezing her in place.

"Hey, whatever they said. Just try to ignore it. We all want you here. Hell, all of us would kick them to the damn curb if Ubbe would let us. But Ubbe and Bjorn have already approved of you."

Ivar scoffed but Hvitserk kept his gaze on hers, letting her know he was serious.

"Just know, we're on your side."

"Thank you, Hvitty." She squeezed his hand, warmth blooming in her chest at his words.

"Either one of them tries to talk to her, I'll strangle them." Ivar growled, starting down the hallway, towing Kari behind him.

"You can't kill them, Ivar. Mother said murder is wrong."

Ivar laughed, looking over his shoulder at his brother. "Mother still loves me."

"Yeah, yeah, we all know you're her favorite."

"Can you blame her? Look at me. I'm far superior and more interesting than the rest of you."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Kari could not help but smile at their teasing, a mock argument that sounded like it had been executed many times before until now it was said out of fondness and mock sibling rivalry.

The three walked back outside through the glassed-in porch. On the way, she noticed her purse back next to Gyda's bag and wondered if Hvitserk moved it there for her. Outside, everyone else sat on chairs or lounge chairs that were grouped in a haphazard circle, obviously waiting for the remainder of the group to join.

"What took you so long? Thought we'd have to send a search party to find you." Bjorn called out as the three approached.

"I got 'em. The library reeks of sex though." Hvitserk said, dodging Kari's swing.

Ivar guided her back to the lounge chair they had been sitting in earlier, tucking her into his side with a hand laying possessively on her hip. Hvitserk sat on her other side instead of pulling a new chair over. She tried to ignore Margrethe and Freydis who sat across from them, keeping her eyes trained on her lap, fiddling with the hem of her cover.

"Ok, now that we're finally all here." Bjorn said, standing up with Asa in his arms. "We just wanted to tell our family the good news in person."

"Torvi is pregnant!" Gyda blurted, staring at her sister-in-law in shock.

"Fuck! Gyda!" Bjorn groaned.

"Daddy said a bad word." Hali looked over at his mother from his spot next to Sigurd.

"Yes, he did, thank you, Hali." Torvi replied smiling then addressed the group. "I'm about two months along. So right now, we are only telling family, so please don't share this with anyone else yet."

"Wow! A third! Congrats!" Ubbe started, others immediately echoing their own congratulations and well-wishes.

Kari jumped up and moved to give Torvi a hug after Gyda. "I know we haven't known each other long but I'm so excited for you. You're an amazing mother."

"Thank you, Kari. Maybe your own time will come soon." She shooting her eyes over to Ivar for a second then meeting Kari's again.

"Oh, I don't know." She blushed at the thought. After another brief hug, Kari returned to her seat.

"How old are you?" Hvitserk asked suddenly.

"Um, I turned twenty-five this summer."

"Ha! Still the baby of the group." Sigurd laughed, pointing his beer bottle at Ivar.

"Hey, nothing is wrong with an older woman. We're in our sexual prime." Gyda defended.

"She's not that much older." Ivar retorted, his hand skimming up and down Kari's thigh. "Just a year."

"And a few months. You're turning twenty-four after the new year." Ubbe helpfully added with a grin.

"Fuck off."

"Mommy, Uncle Ivar said a bad word now."

"Yes, he did, Hali. I think it's time for us to go. Say goodbye to everyone." Torvi said. After a round of goodbyes and hugs to all the uncles and aunt, the small family headed back through the house to head to their own home.

"Did you know Ivar is younger than you?" Hvitserk asked conspiringly, once conversation started around them again.

She tilted her head as she looked at him, slowly answering his question. “Yeah…. we talked about this a while ago."

"Good. Do you want kids?"

"Hvits, what is this?" Ivar butted in.

"Just testing the waters to see how she feels about having my babies. You know they'd be beautiful." Hvitserk chuckled when Ivar glared at him.

"Be nice you two or I'm moving." Kari chided.

"Yes, mom." Hvitserk said, sneaking a kiss to her cheek before jumping away. He turned around and pointed at her as he walked backwards. "One day you'll have my babies!"

She laughed, shaking her head. She could practically feel the smoke coming from Ivar's ears. Before he could burst a vein, she leaned closer to him and laid her head against his shoulder. "He knows I'm yours."

"He fucking better or I'll beat his ass to remind him." Ivar murmured, nuzzling her temple.

She relaxed against him, looking around the backyard. Hvitserk and Ubbe had started some kind of wrestling competition in the pool, both looking like they were trying to drown each other. Gyda and Ivar called insults from their seats. Sigurd was texting on his phone but occasionally looking up and making a comment. At one point he caught her eye and gave her a brief nod, which she smiled back, hoping any animosity between the two of them from her earlier comment was gone. She purposefully ignored the whispering between Margrethe and Freydis, taking a note from Ivar's book and acting as if they did not exist.

Looking at the Lothbrok family around her, she smiled at the group, still amazed she found herself in their midst and how welcoming most of them were. For almost two years she had been alone in a new country, thinking that was what she wanted. Now though, she wondered if she had just been missing a group that accepted her without question.

She peered up at Ivar, heart swelling with gratitude and affection. Without second guessing herself, she kissed his cheek and leaned back against his shoulder. He hummed, placing his own kiss to the top of her head.

She wondered if she should just give up fighting this, whatever this was between them. Maybe it would work out. Maybe everything would not fall apart as soon as the truth fell from her lips. Maybe he could accept her past and who she was.

Silently, she shook the thoughts away. It was still too soon to tell and if she was honest, she did not want to lose this.

Or lose him.

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kisekinodrabbles · 3 years

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Can we get detective Aomine, who gets assigned a female partner but from the start they're always at each other's throats. During an undercover case, reader has to be super flirty and Aomine gets all jealous and mutual confessions ensues. Maybe some sexy times at the end? :') Sorry if this is too specific, feel free to come up with your own interpretation! I'm such a huge fan of your work Sam and I'm so excited that you're opening your askbox even just for a little while!

ngl idk what im doing here but this is the last request in my inbox so i wanted to finish it haha pls enjoy (not proofread so excuse mistakes) - also my first time writing smut in like years so forgive me!!

Sometimes, Aomine thinks that if he isn’t a law and order professional, he thinks he might actually commit murder and hide your body away in some undisclosed, obscure location. Most of the time, you feel the same way about him.

The two work in different divisions—Aomine in homicide and you in robbery. The two divisions have always been highly competitive especially given how much overlap you both encounter. Things can get territorial, but their teams are used to your snide remarks and Aomine’s verbal assault. It’s just the way the world works.

After all, the two of you were in the same graduating class. You, a valedictorian by books. Aomine, top of the class by combat. It’s natural that the two of you are so competitive with your conflicting personalities.

The two of you may have also fucked at some point.

–

“I’m not fucking working with her, are you kidding me?” Aomine spits out at his boss. Any other person would’ve been kicked out of the room or probably fired, but Aomine is the best detective in his division so Akashi would never do such a thing. For now. Aomine’s been wearing his patience thin.

The red-haired man sighs, folding his hands together atop his desk. “Aomine, I understand you both have had your immaturity in the past. This, however, isn’t the time for such trivial matters. There’s a double homicide downtown during a robbery. She’s the lead for the case on the robbery end because they’ve been tracking a series of these.” Aomine opens his mouth to argue again. “No more buts. She’s already down there getting witness statements. Unless you want to be behind again, I suggest you get in your car and start driving.”

He grits his teeth. Breathe. Don’t strangle your boss, he’ll probably kill you first. “I’ll take Wakamatsu.”

By the time he arrives on the scene, a crowd has gathered behind the police line, snapping pictures in the hopes of getting something Twitter worthy. He growls past all of them and ducks underneath the tape. “Where’s the officer that called it in?”

“Inside talking to the detective.”

“I’m the detective,” he snaps right back, knowing full well you’re already three steps ahead of him. And you definitely won’t let him forget that.

He marches past the thick front doors, Wakamatsu in tow. From a distance, he spots you talking to another officer. When he finally approaches you, he realizes that you’re in a skin tight dress covered by an oversized police jacket.

Your name slips past his lips. “Did we interrupt a hot date?” He smirks.

You whirl around, knowing full well the irritating voice that grates on your nerves. Aomine Daiki. “Unlike you, I have actual friends and actual plans on a Friday night. Did you decide to give your wrist a break for the night?”

Aomine bites back, “Well, it’s not getting much rest either when I had my fingers knuckle deep in something tight and wet tonight.” Complete lie but he’s not about to lose this battle. “Not sure you know how that feels though.”

“If you’re talking about the pudding in your fridge, you might want to ease up on that. Doesn’t look like it’s doing you any favors,” you smile right back at him, knowing full well you’ve won this argument.

Aomine growls low under his breath, jabbing Wakamatsu hard with his elbow when he hears the snort escape him. “Brief me on the situation,” he tells the police officer.

“Well, uh, I already told this detective here—”

“I’m the other detective in charge for homicide. Now, you better fucking brief me before I tell your captain.”

The guy glances at you warily and you just laugh. “Told you he hasn’t gotten any in a long time. Come on, sugar, I’ll brief you on the way down to the vault.” You curl your finger in a gesture to get him to follow you and he sucks up his pride for the first time and do as he’s told. If he solves this case, he still gets the credit and you can go back to that sewer where you came from.

There are two bodies at the vault and forensics are already working to collect evidence when they arrive. “Your area of expertise, double homicide. Both are surprisingly the robbers. Four of them broke in, only two were seen exiting with money bags. No other casualties.”

“Fucking weird,” Aomine mutters. It’s not new for robberies to go wrong, but for two of them to die with no civilian casualty? That’s fucking weird.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” You grin, seeming way too pleased considering there are two dead people in front them. “The ammo is the same as the previous bank robberies in the area. We’re going to assume they’re linked to the Red Dragon clan.”

“Fuck,” he groans, “I fucking hate those guys. Bitches to deal with. Hard to infiltrate.”

You flick your hair over your shoulder, grinning at him. He can’t help but draw his gaze to your neck, a very attractive neck. Now that he notices how tight that dress is, he can’t help but admit that it has been a while since he’s gotten any action. The curves of your breast defined so clearly by the fabric that stretches across the mounds, the flow of your hips, every dip and rise. Your exposed legs further emphasized by your heels. God fucking damn. He feels his pants tighten as he licks his teeth. Get it together, Aomine.

Of course, the clothes do nothing to remove the memory of your nude body from his mind. He’s seen all parts of you some time ago. A drunken mistake that ended in a brief, but extremely satisfying night of passion. Your tight pussy wrapped around his cock, your nails digging into his biceps. He can still picture the sheen layer of sweat on your skin as he rams into you, your broken moans falling from your lips.

“Well, lucky for you,” you start again, pulling him out of the hazy cloud of lust. “I already have someone on the inside. They’ve set up a meeting for me tomorrow night meet with the head’s son. I’ll try to get some information done.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free tomorrow to be your backup. You’re welcome,” Aomine smiles, “Don’t fuck this up. I don’t feel like cleaning up after your ass.”

“I should say that about you, asshole.”

–

Aomine is sat in a dingy van just across the street from the bar you’re having your meeting. You’ve hidden your mic in the perfect spot, a location which you do not disclose to Aomine. However, he has a feeling it’s somewhere promiscuous that he wants to be aware of. They can see the restaurant clearly, their brat hacker Sakurai having plugged into the restaurant’s security cameras.

“Shut the fuck up, Aomine. I can hear you munching on your stupid sour cream and onion chips.” You mutter into your mic before the guy arrives. You sip your wine and take a deep breath. This isn’t the first time you’ve gone undercover but it is the first time to have Aomine behind you while you do so.

The detective looks down at the can in his hands. Sour cream and onion. How did you know? He sets it aside, bringing the mic up to his lips. “Maybe you should do your job better and focus on your meeting instead of listening to me. Why are you so obsessed with me, hm?”

However, a man’s voice on the other side of the headphones has him straightening. “Good evening, I didn’t expect to be meeting a lovely lady like you tonight,” the sleaze says and Aomine can just imagine him kissing your hand. “When Tanaka said I’d be meeting with the right hand of White Claw, I didn’t expect it to be a woman.”

“Well, we are moving up in life, Mr. Ito.”

“Your good looks are certainly quite persuasive. I’m sure there are ways you can convince me to strike a deal.”

Fucking. Sleaze.

“Oh,” you laugh lightly, “what a flatterer. You’re not so bad yourself. I can imagine people fall at their feet for you.”

“Well, I am quite knowledgeable in more ways than one. Perhaps I can show you tonight after dinner.”

The two banter back and forth, trading flirty comments that puts Aomine on edge. You’re supposed to be doing your job and he knows that. He knows this is all an act but you’re a damn good actress.

“Aomine, where are you going?” Wakamatsu’s concerned voice carries through the speaker.

You freeze. This fucker better not screw this whole operation up. “Well,” you say, “this has been a lovely dinner. I’m sure we both can come to an agreement without doing anything reckless.”

The double meaning, a sentence meant for the man across from you and the man listening to you rings clear. Aomine growls, sitting back down petulantly in his seat. He was about to rage in there and start a war, but holds himself back. Be professional, Aomine. Job first, dick needs later.

“The same to you. It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” the man smiles. “Are you sure you won’t join me for the night?”

Aomine snarls low into his mic. Wakamatsu shoots him a weird look. You let out a little giggle and he knows it’s meant for him. “No, thank you, Mr. Ito. I’m afraid I have other commitments to tend to.”

When he knows it’s safe, he storms into the restaurant where you still sit, sipping your drink. Sliding into the seat across from you, he rolls his eyes. “Enjoy yourself?”

He didn’t see when you were set up with the mic earlier so he also hadn’t seen what you were wearing. He’s almost grateful because he knows he might’ve lost it if he did. Tight ass dress, deep neckline that shows ample cleavage (he’s always a sucker for this), sultry eyes, red lips. God, all his favorite things packaged into one.

Your lips quirk up. “The breadsticks here are quite nice.”

“Fucking hilarious. Let’s go.”

“Why the hurry?”

“Unless you want Wakamatsu to hear me fuck you, you better dump that mic and get your ass up.”

You lean back, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m not sure I like your tone.”

“Trust me, you don’t have to like my tone to enjoy what I’m going to do to you.”

Licking your lips, you consider your options as you bring the wine back to your lips. “Fine,” you mutter, unclipping the mic from the strap of your dress. Aomine moves faster though, snatching it from your hands and dumping it into the wine. Before you can protest, he already has a hand wrapped around yours, tugging you up from your seat and into the back room.

You’re stumbling in his manic rush, heels barely keeping up with your movements. “Aomine!” You chide as he pushes all the way to the employee break room. The space is fortunately empty and Aomine locks it to make sure it stays that way. “Can you please stop?! You’re such a caveman, I—”

He’s quick to shut you up, swallowing your words with his lips as they slot over yours. He doesn’t waste time, shrugging off his leather jacket as he licks your bottom lip for permission. You gasp a complaint, but he takes advantage of the situation to stick his tongue in, pressing it up against yours.

All your worries fall away into a moan as he separates from you only to gasp for breath and pull his t-shirt over his head. With nimble fingers, he’s unzipping the back of your dress and yanking it down, leaving your top half exposed. Shivering, you’re about to voice your disapproval but your brain seems to stop functioning the second your gaze lands on his tanned body.

Aomine’s always been attractive. No one can deny. There’s a reason why he’s simultaneously the precinct’s most eligible bachelorette and most insufferable jackass. His confidence matches his skills. His looks live up to his brags. Hard lines and shadows are painted on him like a masterpiece in a museum. His broad shoulders make him look even bigger with his height. His jeans that hang just low enough to be tantalizing with the hint of a v that leads to the space between his legs.

Your mouth dries up at the sight and Aomine smirks knowingly. You’ve fallen into his bed before, he can make it happen again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Fifth grade humor doesn’t become you, Aomine.” You scowl as he backs you up against the table in the middle of the room. He effortlessly grabs you by the ass to lift you up and onto the surface, the metal cool against your exposed thighs.

“Did you dress up for me, doll? Knowing full well that this was going to happen,” he grins devilishly, bringing his hands up to shamelessly cup your breasts.

It’s not as if you’re embarrassed for being so bare before him. You’re proud of your body and he damn well knows that. You let him fondle you through your bra for a little bit. “No, you animal. I dress for the job.”

“You tell me you wear this flimsy thing—” he teases the light coverage of your lingerie. The lace is sheer and barely covers your nipples, the material holding onto your breasts for dear life. “—for the job?”

“I do my job right, asshole,” you spat right back. “So are you just going to stand there or are you going to fuck me?”

A wide grin stretches across his face. The heat in his eyes carry to his hands as he works to unclasp your bra and let it fall to the ground. Aomine doesn’t waste time as you lean back on your palms, granting him full access to fondle and suckle on your tits. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nubs that have grown stiff in the contrast between the cold air and his warm breath. His teeth graze the sensitive skin hard enough to have you groaning in pleasure. His lips close in around them and suck. He uses his hand to tease and tug your other breast, pinching it to elicit that delicious whimper out of you. Aomine alternates between the two, making sure you stay warm.

Meanwhile, you let your hand fall to the bulge between his legs. He lets out a small grunt at the initial touch but seems to respond favorably to the way you stroke the tent, nudging his hips forward for more friction. “Is that a gun in your pants or are you just excited to see me?”

“You’re so fucking ridiculous,” Aomine mutters, both humored and unamused by your comment.

“Fuck,” you let slip as your fingers struggle to unbutton his jeans. “Your fucking pants. Don’t you live in sweats? You choose today of all days to wear your stupid tight jeans?”

Aomine chuckles, “Patience, baby. You know you like my ass in these.”

You do, but you’re not about to admit that. He quickly works off his pants, letting them drop to his ankles as he moves towards you again. While he continues to stimulate your tits, your hand begins groping his cock which is rock hard and peeking from the top of his boxers.

“God, I miss having this inside me,” you whine, pulling the flimsy fabric off and letting it pool on top of his jeans. “Condom?”

“You don’t want me raw? You know you want to feel all of my cock,” he grins. You throw him a glare and he just chuckles as he reaches for his wallet on the floor, pulling out a packet and tossing it onto the table. “But first,” he pauses, letting his hands slide down to cup your pussy, which is admittedly already drenched at that point.

He hisses when he feels your juices drip and coat his fingers. “You’re so fucking wet, goddamn. How long have you been waiting for this?”

“When that robbery happened, I was about to get laid for the first time in months. So fucking sue me,” you snarl at him.

“Well, I am here to please,” he wets his lips. He slips one finger in, sliding in all too easily. So he adds another finger and feels your walls pulse around him. He begins pulling it out before shoving it back in, repeating the measure to stroke your walls. He curls his fingers inside as he watches your face closely.

Your expression morphs from irritation to blinding pleasure in an instant. Your eyes slide shut, your lips part to exhale shaky breaths. Aomine seems to know exactly how to angle and twist his fingers to induce a heart attack. The sounds falling from your mouth are ephemeral, Aomine wishes he can film this moment so he can replay it over and over again.

He pumps his fingers into you and ducks his head to take your nipple into his mouth again, tongue circling the tip. “God, you taste so fucking good. I forgot how wet you can get. Don’t even need lube to slide into you, huh? You’re already dripping for me.”

“Asshole,” you murmur weakly, clearly in no place to retort.

“Remember the first time I fucked you? God, you were so easy,” he grins, “you were so wet, so turned on already. Remember when I stuck my tongue in your pussy? Licking up your juices. You tasted so sweet.”

Your breath stutters in your chest, hitching in your throat. “Fuck you, let’s not forget how quickly you came when I sucked you off.”

“I mean, the sight of you on your knees is enough to get anyone off, sweetheart.”

“Fuck me,” you groan. Any rational thought has fizzled from your brain. The feeling of his fingers inside you is enough to consume you whole, overwhelming you in waves of rapture.

“What was that?”

“Dickwad.”

He chuckles darkly, licking his lips again. “Beg me.”

“I’m not going to—”

Aomine yanks his fingers out, looking down at you, taunting you. He waits as you internally struggle with your moral convictions. Are you willing to give up your pride for one night just to get fucked out of your mind?

Easy.

Yes.

“Please,” you huff, “please fuck me.”

“Please fuck me who?”

Your eyes find the ceiling, wondering what in the hell you did in your lifetime to have met the devil that is Aomine. Biting your lip, you lean closer to whisper, “Please fuck me, Da-i-ki.”

The man is a sucker for you calling him by his first name. And to get what you want, you’re willing to play into his hands. Aomine lets out a low growl before ripping open the condom packet and rolling the thin rubber along his length. Your pussy squeezes at the sight. Just imagining what it’s like to have that thickness inside of you, fucking you full, has you on edge.

He doesn’t waste a single second, pulling you forward and slowly positioning himself in front of you. He holds onto his cock, letting the tip trace your pussy lips, circling it and letting your juices drip onto his cock. Stroking the wetness along his dick, he uses it as a lubricant before he slides himself inside you.

When he’s buried to the hilt, Aomine leans forward and lets his forehead rest on your shoulder. Your pussy is so fucking tight. It’s squeezing and throbbing around him with the engulfing heat. He feels as if he’s going to explode right then.

“Fuck, you really haven’t been screwed in a while,” Aomine rasps.

“Told you.”

Aomine starts off slow, pulling out and pushing back in. With how thin the condom is, he can feel every ridge, every bump in your heat rub up against his cock. The sensations is enough to have his thighs quivering, but he’s not one to back down. He begins to pick up the pace, thrusting deep inside of you repeatedly. HIs mouth latches onto your neck, tongue lapping and teeth nipping to paint purple blooms upon your skin.

His movements are building a bubbling pressure in the pit of your stomach. You feel your heart tightening with every move, your insides squeezing. The absolute pleasure that crashes over you has you breathless, your hands finding purchase on his arms.

He mutters filthy words in your ear, one of his hands reaching up to tangle in your hair. He yanks back lightly, just enough to have you moaning. You like it rough, he’s well aware of that. He pounds into you relentlessly, hands keeping you in place as whimpers tumble from your mouth.

“Fuck, right there, oh god,” you gasp, “fuck me harder. God, your dick feels so good. Filling me up so full with your thick cock.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll be tempted to come in you, baby,” Aomine grazes his teeth along your ear, hot breath kissing your skin. “God, I want to just fucking cream inside you.”

“Better watch yourself, Daiki.”

Aomine grins lasciviously, sweat beginning to bead his forehead as he attempts to keep himself in check. He feels you tighten your pussy, walls closing in around him. “Bitch,” he growls. You know what you’re doing but he’s not about to let you gain dominance of the situation.

So his hands dig deeper into your hips as he fucks you harder and deeper, his cock pulsating inside of you on the brink of his self-control. “I’m about to come,” he says with eyes squeezed shut. If he sees your tits bouncing as he fucks you again, he might actually combust in that second.

“Me too,” you panted, fingers scraping down his arms.

With a few more pumps, Aomine spills into the rubber with a grunt. He feels you convulse around him, your entire body trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. He can feel his come continue to leak from his cock. God, he hasn’t come this hard in a fucking long time.

His heart is thundering in his chest from the impact of his climax. He slumped forward, leaning against you for support—also partially to feel your tits press up against his chest. “Fuck,” he huffs.

“That was good,” you admit to yourself, still breathing heavily as you begin fixing your hair. “We should do that again sometime.”

Aomine just laughs, huffing against your skin. “You’re the fucking she-devil.”

“Says the guy who’s fucking me in the back room in the middle of an undercover operation.”

“Dick first, job second.”

–

Wakamatsu looks at him when he walks into the precinct that morning. “You do realize the captain is going to kill you for fucking up that expensive mic, right?”

Fuck.

#kuroko no basket #knb #kuroko no basuke #aomine daiki #aomine smut #knb smut #knb drabbles #knb scenarios #anonymous #popz

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adxmparriish · 3 years

Text

sirens in the beat of your heart - read on ao3

writer: lizziebxnnet / godgavemelou words: 3510 rating: explicit

As Jude’s hands grab Cardan’s face, cradling him between her palms, the pounding on the door rattles her nerves. She can hear them trying to pry it open. They only have a few moments.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Jude assures him. It feels ridiculous coming from her mouth, with the alarms blaring and the door on the brink of being busted down. She knows she’s right, though. She can feel it.

OR an AU where Jude and Cardan rob a bank.

I'm tagging a few blogs I tagged for Folktober! If you enjoy please reblog and share <3 @jurdanhell @jurdannet @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @clockworkgraystairs

---

As the alarm rings loudly inside the Southern Standard Bank, Jude thinks to herself, We’ve really done it this time.

There is endless shouting and random popping coming from behind her as she sprints down the hall, her shoes pounding the marble floor. Her breath is ragged, her heart is racing, and she prays to a God she doesn’t believe in that she can get to the vault in time. The long red wig she’s wearing keeps getting in her eyes and her mouth, and she brushes it back again as she makes her way to where she needs to go. Another pop and a bullet wizzes past her shoulder. The cops are narrowing in on her.

She counts the doors as she runs. One, two, three, four, until she reaches the eighth, kicking it in and slamming it behind her when she’s safely inside. Someone’s desk sits abandoned, and quickly she realizes it’s owner is knocked out cold underneath it, his hands tied behind his back. Jude lets out a relieved breath. She quickly moves, throwing all her weight into moving the desk in front of the door. It won’t hold the police long, but hopefully long enough so she can get out of here.

Right as she’s positioning the desk, fists begin to pound the hard steel of the door. They’re all shouting, their words mixing together. She does her best to ignore them, moving away from the door and into the vault that’s standing wide-open, fluorescent lights bleeding into the room.

“We’ve got company!” Jude shouts into the vault before she enters.

“The bags are full, we just need to get to the underground.”

Jude sees Cardan kneeling on the floor, zipping up two duffel bags. He hasn’t packed up all the money, nowhere close, but it’s enough to keep them going for a long time, years probably, and that’s enough. Cardan’s blonde wig sticks to his forehead with sweat, his hands shaky as he finishes his work. After all their years of robbing, it’s never gotten easier on him. Sure, they mostly steal from smaller places, just enough to get by for a few weeks. Robbing a well-known bank… well, it’s certainly new for both of them.

Jude kneels beside him, grabbing a handle of her bag, before looking him in the eyes. He’s so nervous and scared, it bleeds into all his features. Jude is scared too, every inch of her lit up with nerves, but she keeps it together. For Cardan, she can do that. They need this.

“Give me the plan,” she demands, hoping it’ll calm him down to talk to her.

“There’s a door behind the vault that leads to an underground tunnel. We are going to take it all the way to the end, where the car is waiting. Then we ditch the disguises, and drive as far south as we can.” Cardan exhales shakily.

As Jude’s hands grab Cardan’s face, cradling him between her palms, the pounding on the door rattles her nerves. She can hear them trying to pry it open. They only have a few moments.

Cardan’s inky eyes look misty, but he nods. His hands grab his own bag, shouldering it as they stand. Jude puts her own on as well, and quickly they move to the hidden door behind the massive vault. When they’re both inside the passageway, the door separating them from the police finally crashes open. Quickly, they slam the door, Cardan pulling out a chain from his own bag.

He hands it to Jude and her hands fumble as she wraps it around the handles, finally snapping the heavy duty lock. The snap of it rattles them both, and at once they begin to run. Jude’s hand finds Cardan’s as they sprint through the tunnels, the low yellow of the emergency lights their only companion.

Jude has studied the map of the tunnels Vivi stole for her a thousand times. She knows they don’t have long to go. The curves are winding and narrow, but only a mile or so away from the bank. It’s eerie as they run, the only sounds being their feet on the concrete and their ragged breathing. Cardan’s hand is sweaty, his fingers struggling to keep hold on hers as they grow tired. The bag of money on her shoulder slams against her thigh every time she takes a step.

Finally, when Jude is pretty sure she can’t run another minute, the dim light of the outside shines underneath another door at the end of the tunnel. They slow down when they reach it, Cardan putting his ear to the metal to listen. They’re quiet for a few moments before he smiles wide, the first bit of happiness Jude has seen on his face in days.

“No sirens, no nothing. I think we’re clear.”

They open the door and light blinds them, the afternoon sun blazing down brightly. Their car sits exactly where Vivi parked it, a beat up old Honda she bought with cash a few weeks ago. They move with haste, opening the trunk and finding their new clothes. They change behind the car, discarding their other clothes and their wigs. Jude wraps them in a trash bag before throwing them in the trunk and closing it. They’ll discard everything later - now, time is of the essence. Cardan climbs in the driver’s seat, Jude next to him, and they both take a deep breath.

“Remember Cardan, we want to go slow. We don’t want to look suspicious. They don’t know about this car, if we aren’t here when they get here, they won’t find us.”

“Got it,” he says, fingers shaking as he tries to start the ignition.

Jude grabs his hand, squeezing his fingers tightly. Her own hand threatens to tremble but she can’t let it take over. Not right now.

“Baby, we can do this. We are almost done, and then we don’t have to worry again. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever.”

Cardan’s eyes find her own and his breathing is shallow as he tries to stay calm.

“We can do this,” he repeats back to her. Jude grins. He doesn’t look completely sure, but regardless, his fingers finally turn the key and the car starts.

Slowly but surely, they pull out of the alley. They leave the radio off, listening closely as they edge on to the street, heading to the highway. Jude can hear sirens, but the sound is distant. They must still be back at the bank. They move at the speed limit, keeping their eyes peeled, but so far, they don’t see anything suspicious. They aren’t being followed.

The few minutes it takes to get the highway seem to drag on forever, Jude’s leg shaking as anxiety pricks at her. Cardan’s own hands tremble on the steering wheel. They don’t say a word to each other as they drive. Right before they need to turn on to the highway, they get stopped by a red light. Of course, Jude thinks.

The car is stifling, so Jude rolls her window down. Only a little longer before they truly get away. Only a couple miles of interstate before they can find some back roads and get lost, head south, completely start over. She has to fight a smile from breaking over her features. If only the damn red light could turn green.

Then, like a sledgehammer to the heart, she hears more sirens. They start to grow louder, and the light isn’t changing. They can’t run the red without looking suspicious, and Cardan looks over at her, his eyes wide and terrified. Her own breathing grows stuttered and she looks in her side mirror, trying to find the blue and red lights. How did they find them already? There weren’t any cars around them.

“What do we do, Jude?” Cardan asks, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel.

“If they’ve found us, we have to go as fast as we can. Hit the gas and go. Don’t stop for anything.” Jude’s voice quivers, but she tries to hide it. They were so close, she really thought they were going to get away.

Like a gift from the Heavens, the light finally turns green but they can’t move, as the car in front of them hasn’t. Jude fights the urge to scream as they remain still, the sirens growing louder in her ears. They need to move, and quickly.

A few more seconds tick by and Cardan’s fist pounds on the dashboard, shaking the car. Jude jumps in her seat, her nerves shot.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Finally, at the same time, they see it. An ambulance flies through the intersection, the lights and siren blaring as they go. They watch it go by, mouths hanging open, not even noticing the car in front of them has finally gone on. Someone behind them honks their horn and finally, Cardan moves, taking their exit and merging onto the highway.

When their tires hit the black of the asphalt, the long expanse of road that will take them south, Cardan’s lips break into a smile that overtakes his entire face. A laugh erupts from his chest, and Jude can’t help herself but to do the same, giggles overtaking her quickly as she finally realizes they made it. They fucking did it.

Tears leak from Jude’s eyes as she laughs, her cheeks beginning to hurt from it. One of Cardan’s hands finds her own, gripping it tight over the center console as they drive.

“I can’t believe we mistook the sirens for cops and didn’t recognize them as an ambulance,” Jude says when her laughs finally calm down.

“I was a little busy shitting myself from robbing the biggest bank in the area, Jude. I had more important things on my mind than the sound of a siren.” His words hold no malice as he speaks, but Jude knows he’s telling the truth. He’s been worried for weeks about this going wrong.

“I told you we could do it,” she says. His reply is a smirk, and she takes it.

In about twenty miles, they pull off the highway, merging on to a smaller one. It’s quieter, less police presence, and it goes for hundreds of miles. They plan to take it as far as they can. Cardan finally gets the nerve to turn on the radio, and the only station he can find is playing old country music. He rolls his eyes but settles there, turning it up enough to drown out the noise of the car.

Jude’s hair whips in the wind coming from her lowered window, as does Cardan’s. When she looks at him, the afternoon glow of the sun lighting up his features, her heart aches. They’ve been through so much together. Living on the streets, stealing here and there to eat, to live. When they met in college, everything had seemed destined to be perfect. Years later, when student debt, no job offers, and no opportunity greeted them, they did what they could to survive. It hasn’t been easy, but they’ve made it and that’s what matters. She can’t imagine doing any of it without him.

Jude rotates in her seat, her head leaned against the headrest, so she can watch Cardan drive. This reminds her of their first date, both of them barely nineteen, driving to a local diner at golden hour. She smiles at the memory, at him, and he notices, glancing over at her with an eyebrow cocked.

“What’s going through that devious brain of yours?” he wonders.

“Nothing,” she replies. She glances at the clock on the dash, noticing it will be getting dark in a few hours.

“We should try to find somewhere to stay tonight. We can grab food, a room, and think about where we want to head.”

Stacks of twenty dollar bills and abandoned take-out boxes lay all across the floor of the motel room. Jude and Cardan sit with the stacks surrounding them, slowly counting everything they have. They move the money from one pile to another, Jude jotting down the numbers on the little notepad provided by the motel. When their last stack is accounted for, Jude does a tally and almost cries when she sees the final number.

“Well? How much is it?” Cardan asks, leaning over the look at the notepad.

Tears collect in Jude’s eyes, her voice cracking as she speaks.

“There’s almost 2 million here.”

Cardan snatches the paper, eyes grazing over the tally again, ensuring she’s correct. Jude’s heart hammers in her chest as she takes it all in. As Cardan double checks, his eyes grow wider.

Finally, Cardan glances up at her, a breathtaking smile causing her heart to skip a beat.

He laughs, wrapping his arms around her neck and they tumble to the floor, knocking over the pile of money, the stacks cascading all around them. His breath warms her neck as he laughs, and her hands find his hair, tears falling from her eyes as she does.

“We fucking did it,” she murmurs. All of the struggles, the pain, the fights, the bad luck. It’s gone. They’ll never want for another thing again.

“We did,” Cardan replies.

He lifts his head from her neck and moves to kiss her, his lips sliding over her own. She deepens it immediately, clutching at his inky black hair and pulling it hard. He groans into her mouth as she does. Desire pools inside her, making her want more, more, more.

A stack digs into her back as they kiss and suddenly, an idea pops into her head. Reluctantly, she moves away from him. Cardan frowns.

Jude sits up, grabbing a few of the bundles and ripping off the paper strap holding them together. He watches as she scatters the money on their queen bed and suddenly his eyes light up, mischief dancing in the darkness of them.

“My sweet villain,” he says, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Jude grins wickedly.

As the last bill floats to the sheets, she spins them and pushes Cardan down to the mattress. All around him is the money they stole, wrapping around him like a blanket and she smiles so wide, she’s afraid her face might crack.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to fuck on a pile of cash?” she asks, leaning down to remove Cardan’s t-shirt. The milky white of his skin taunts her and she runs her hands over his chest, nails making tiny red lines as she does.

“Of course,” he replies, doing his part to remove Jude’s own clothes. “Just never thought we’d have the chance.”

“We can do it every day for the rest of our lives,” she replies, her jeans finally coming off as she does.

“As long as I’m with you, I’d be ready and willing.”

Jude captures Cardan’s lips, kissing him fiercely at his words. She finally gets his pants removed after a few minutes, their inability to stop kissing causing some slowness. Jude goes to move her hand between Cardan’s thighs but he beats her to it, his own hand sneaking it’s way into her underwear. She gasps as he finds the small bundle of nerves, his middle finger caressing it carefully.

Jude’s head falls to Cardan’s shoulder as he plays with her slowly, teasingly. Every once in a while he’ll dip a finger inside her, making her cry out, before withdrawing it again. A warmth builds in her belly and before she can ask him to, Cardan dips two fingers in, his thumb rubbing furiously at her clit. It’s like he can read her gasps, the way her breath hitches in her throat. He knows her like their favorite song.

Jude bites her lip and grips the sheets, bills collecting in her fist as she does. Cardan moves his head up, his other hand pushing aside her bra so she can capture her nipple in his mouth. Overstimulation lights a ravenous fire inside of her. It’s all Jude can do not to scream out as his teeth graze her nipple slightly, causing her to tip over the edge, an orgasm crashing over her.

She shivers and shakes as she comes down, Cardan’s hand moving slower as he helps her ride it out. Before she can protest, he flips her over so her back is on the mattress. His lips find her lips, her cheek, her earlobe, her neck, her chest, her stomach, and then finally, the one place she’s been waiting for.

Jude looks down just in time to meet his eyes before his tongue finds her folds, licking a hot, wet stripe. She’s still sensitive so she moans loudly, the sensation overwhelming. Cardan places her thighs on his shoulders, moving closer to her as he does.

“You deserve this,” he says, licking at her again, making her writhe in his grip. “Your plan got us here. Your determination, your brain.”

“I’d do anything for you, for us,” Jude pants. And it’s true. Her happiness with Cardan was more important than anything. It still is.

Cardan doesn’t respond with words, but in action. He doesn’t come up for air for minutes, feasting on her like he’s a starving man. Jude bucks against him at every turn and he welcomes it, pulling her closer and closer until she’s sure she’ll suffocate him. The fire burning inside her begins to build again. Her fingers find his hair, gripping and pulling hard as she rides his face.

Her hips begin to buck against him as she threatens to spill over again, only this time Cardan removes himself before she can. Jude pounds a fist on the bed, and at that, Cardan smirks.

“Don’t worry my dear criminal,” he says, leaning over her to kiss her. “I’d just rather you come around my cock instead of my tongue.”

Jude gasps as he enters her slowly, taking all the time in the world. She can taste herself on his tongue as he kisses her. She has so many feelings trying to override another. Her hands scramble to find purchase before they finally settle on Cardan’s arms that are framing her face. He pulls away so he can look in her eyes as he bottoms out. Jude wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper.

Moonlight filters through the curtains of their room, threads of silver highlighting Cardan’s face. Jude reaches up, wrapping her arms around his neck to bring him closer. She loves him, with every piece of her soul. She loves him enough to fight tooth and nail, to steal, to lie, so they can live happily. She’d risk herself every day for him, for her Cardan.

Like he can read her mind, Cardan bends down, kissing her roughly.

“I love you,” he moans into her mouth.

He begins to move faster, a hand snaking between her thighs so he can play with her clit. Jude bites her lip to fight the scream that threatens to rip from her throat. She loves him so much she can hardly breathe, or think, or feel anything else.

“More than all this money?” he asks, teasing. He pulls away and looks into her eyes.

“More than anything.”

He grips her hair and yanks, exposing her neck to him. He mouths at her throat, sucking a bruise into the light mocha of her skin. Everything is too much. Jude feels like she’s burning from the inside out. Her arms around Cardan’s neck circle tighter and she lets herself be taken completely over. Everything fades away and it’s nothing but Cardan. The way he makes her feel, his eyes, his laugh, his voice, the pounding of his heart, his everything.

Jude erupts for the second time, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. Cardan follows soon after, a moan falling from his mouth and into the skin of her shoulder. When they’re both completely spent, he rolls off of her. He immediately pulls her into his chest, her forehead meeting his neck.

A twenty dollar bill sticks up from underneath Cardan’s arm and Jude laughs lightly, pulling it away from him and throwing it to the floor. It’s everywhere, sticking to their sweaty skin as they’ve moved across the bed.

“I meant what I said, Jude,” Cardan says, eyeing her carefully. “All this money… well, it wouldn’t mean a damn thing if I didn’t have you.”

Jude fights a lump in her throat at his words. She’s never been the type to say how she feels, it’s always been more of Cardan’s thing. She blinks away the mist in her eyes before grinning at him.

“I know what you mean.” Jude pauses. “I love you so much.”

Cardan leans in, kissing her forehead.

“Let’s start our new beginning.”

#jurdan #jurdannet #tfota #tfota fanfic #jurdan fanfic #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #judecardan #my fic

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Satisfied, Part 28

First

~~~

The pair sprinted out of the store, blonde in tow. It took about half a minute for Chloe to finally process everything going on, and another ten seconds for her to finally catch her footing enough for them to let go.

Marinette chanced a look back and cringed. A few people had stayed inside the store for various reasons but most were following after them, phones in hand. She pulled up her hood.

Dick glanced at both of them as they neared a crowded escalator. “Can you guys hop a railing?”

“Obviously,” said Marinette.

“... No? What the hell?” Chloe said.

Marinette and Dick gave each other a look before he groaned.

“Sorry for this.”

“For wha --?” The girl began but she, unfortunately, got her answer pretty quickly. He picked her up and held her to his chest, resting a hand over the back of her neck.

The two vigilantes gave each other a small nod before they jumped over the railing. Neither of them pointed out the fact that they both had perfect form, or that it was clearly an everyday thing for them. Because now more people were staring.

“Didn’t think this through, huh?” Chloe commented as she was let down.

“Shut up,” muttered Dick.

And then they were running again.

A quick look back at the crowd chasing them made her face pale. Fun! Now security thought they were thieves.

“Oh, come on, do you guys have to do your jobs?” She whined.

Ah, crap. They were losing Chloe. Dick was distracted, pulling out his wallet (for some reason) and hadn’t noticed.

Marinette bit her cheek. They could just leave her. A glance at the security footage would clear her name. It would be fi--.

She skidded to a stop and wheeled around. Damn it.

When Chloe got to her, she threw her over her shoulder and started up again. She raced to catch up with their third member, who was now dropping money on the floor.

She blinked a few times to process this, then shook her head and ran faster.

“The hell, Dick?” Chloe yelled as they stepped out into the sun.

“The less people chasing us the better! I can afford it!” He said.

They gave a pause at the edge of the parking lot. Their car was... well, they didn’t know.

“Random alley and hope we don’t get mugged?” Marinette offered.

“Yeah,” Dick said.

They passed off Chloe like a baton and then broke into a run again.

Five minutes later, they were panting in an alleyway. Marinette looked down to check her clothes weren’t originals before dropping onto her back and spreading out in the grime. Dick all but dropped the girl he was holding and leaned against a wall as he tried to catch his breath.

Chloe, who hadn’t run in a little while, was mostly just holding her probably bruised stomach (Marinette hadn’t taken time to make sure she was positioned properly on her shoulder).

“The PR team is gonna hate meeeeee,” complained Dick, who was sliding down the wall very slowly.

“You know...” Began Chloe, who seemed a bit hesitant to say anything.

“What?” Hissed Marinette, squeezing her eyes shut.

“You probably could have said that Mari was going to be future Wayne adoptee number 453542 and no one would have batted an eye.”

There was a short silence, then a string of very creative cursing from both of them.

After they had cursed enough to feel marginally better, Dick turned to Marinette. “Remember when I told you that you should let go of your anger?”

“Mhmm...”

“Not with her. Stay mad. She’s smarter than us. That’s not allowed.”

Chloe gave a short laugh and held out a hand to each of them to get up.

Marinette smiled and took it.

It took a week for her to be allowed on patrol again. This was good for her job, she was actually getting work done (she had even finished Adrien’s outfit!), but also dreadfully boring at times.

So, when she was finally told on the comms that she could come back, she was somewhat disappointed when Red Hood said that he was going to take the day to teach her sparring.

There was, unsurprisingly, a bit of an argument over this.

“Red Hood can’t mentor her! She already has less morals than us, we can’t just let him corrupt her!” Nightwing hissed.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

“I’m doing this to teach her to communicate her injuries. Would you like me not to do that?”

Batman sighed. “No, but maybe someone else would be better suited than you to --.”

“I’m better suited than all of you!”

“Why don’t we just go over and abduct Ladybug?” Chimed in Robin.

“Yeah, do your weird dad thing and track his credit card,” said Red Robin.

Batman sputtered for a response, then sighed. “I guess I could...”

“Suckers! I’m using cash!” Red Hood said, which was met with a string of cursing.

Marinette turned off her comm with a small roll of her eyes. “Tikki, spots on,” she muttered.

Only to scream.

Because the hands and feet of her costume weren’t appearing.

She stared at the glowing purple at her wrists and ankles. As she watched, it retreated up her arms very slightly. Her costume was disappearing before her eyes.

She swallowed thickly. What could she do? She couldn’t really switch miraculi. Ladybug was already well-known enough there to have a costume made of her. But, ethically, could she continue on like this, knowing how Tikki must be suffering? And even if she did, how? The purple was glowing. It would be hard to miss.

Marinette mulled this over for a bit before walking around her apartment. She picked up the pro-fighter gloves she’d stolen from the Waynes and a set of parkour shoes. At least they were black. She didn’t know what she’d do if her outfit didn’t even slightly match.

A few minutes after she’d pulled them on, Red Hood opened the door to her apartment.

She blinked. “Didn’t I lock that?”

“Yeah, I learned how to pick house locks while you were out,” he explained.

She gave a small frown but shrugged it off and pushed past him. He caught her hand and raised his eyebrows at her new look. Dang, she hadn’t even gotten out the door.

“What’s up with the new outfit?”

She shrugged casually and pulled her hand from his grip. “Honestly? I was getting tired of the plain outfit. Figured I’d start upgrading it over time.”

He looked a bit skeptical. She couldn’t blame him. The last time he’d seen her in this costume she’d been shot. She’d think that she was getting weaker, too.

And she was. But he didn’t need to know that.

Okay, so maybe Jason had had a point. So what?

They slipped out the window and started making their way across the rooftops.

“You’d tell me if there was anything wrong, right?” Red Hood said as he hopped another roof with ease.

She tipped her head to the side and considered this. It was the whole point of what they were doing, getting her to admit when she needed help. But she brushed this aside. She couldn’t get help for this. The only way to fix it was to give someone the cat miraculous.

And she didn’t know if she trusted Robin enough yet.

So she smiled and shook her head. “Honestly, you worry too much. Relax. I’m a designer, remember? Of course I’d want a more intricate outfit than plain spandex.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he nodded. “Good.”

She bit back her guilt. “Where are we going, anyways?”

“Private studio.”

She nodded and they continued on in silence. She always hated silence. It gave her way too much time to think. About the way she was getting weaker with every transformation. About how she was supposed to hide it. About whether it was right to do so.

Marinette was glad when they finally touched ground outside a dojo.

They stepped inside and the person at the front blinked a few times. “It’s really you,” he said.

Red Hood rolled his eyes. “Take a picture, it’d last longer.”

She swatted him over the back of the head when the attendant actually began to take out his phone. “You can take one afterwards, okay? We’d prefer not to be hounded right when we leave.”

The man nodded and sheepishly put his phone away. They were led into a private room not unlike the one the Waynes had (though, admittedly, far lower in budget).

Red Hood crossed his arms. “Right. Ground rules: we fight until one of us gives up, we have to give up when we’re in pain or completely pinned, and two taps on whatever you can reach is a give up.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why two taps?”

He gave a shrug. “It’s what Nightwing and Batman drilled into all of us. My guess is one could be an accident and three just feels excessive.”

Marinette nodded. Fair enough.

She could feel him watching while they stretched and groaned. “I’m fine. I barely even feel it anymore.”

“We can postpone if you need, I don’t care about the money.”

She rolled her eyes. “Relaaaaax.”

All he gave her was a stern look in return.

“Kwami, you’re beginning to look like Batman, scowling like that.”

He gasped. “You take that back!”

“Nope,” she grinned, pushing herself to her feet.

They both got into fighting positions.

They eyed each other warily as they circled each other. Marinette didn’t know Red Hood’s fighting style for close-combat, and Red Hood seemed to be considering his options.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she eyed him up and down. He was certainly strong, a quick glance showed that, but did he know how to use it? He had years of vigilante experience, surely he must know some hand-to-hand combat, right? Then again, he was only really known for using guns. Maybe she could beat him, maybe not. She didn’t want to underestimate him...

He lunged forward and she had to jump over him to dodge, using his back as a vault so she could land on her feet. He stumbled forwards a step and whipped around just in time to earn a kick in the stomach. To her surprise, though, he didn’t double over all that much, only giving a small wheeze at the blow. He must be used to hand-to-hand, then, if he could take a kick like that.

Damn.

They narrowed their eyes at each other.

He ran forward, hand coming up for a punch. She grinned and dodged the easy attack. He must be trying to figure out her style. She’d just have to make sure to stay inconsistent --.

His leg swiped under her and she cringed as she hit the ground with a dull thud, only just managing to roll out of the way when he came down after her.

A hand locked around her leg and she cursed, kicking up in a weak attempt to break his grip, but he held fast. With a quick twist she was forced onto her stomach to avoid messing up her ankle and she groaned as he leaned forward to press her head onto the mat. She wiggled around awkwardly underneath him, only to sigh when she realized she wasn’t getting out of it.

There was a beat.

She reluctantly tapped the ground twice.

His weight shifted off of her and she sent him a glare as she flipped onto her back.

He gave her a small smile, holding out a hand to help her up.

“You know, if I didn’t think Nightwing would infect you with his stupid morals, I’d let him train you. You have similar fighting styles. Very... jump-y.”

She scoffed and took his hand, allowing him to pull her up. “Fight with him often?”

“You have no idea,” he said with a slight grin. “Best two out of three?”

She nodded and brought her hands back up to her face.

After a little bit of fighting she’d managed to get a grasp on his fighting style. It seemed a mix of a bunch of different martial arts, but he seemed to put an emphasis on pins rather than genuinely painful attacks.

With this in mind, she was actually able to win some. He definitely won more than she did, he wasn’t going easy on her at all, but it was nice to not lose every time.

Red Hood handed her a water bottle and rested an arm around her shoulders as she drank it. “Same time next week?”

She grinned and wiped her mouth. “Don’t trust me to tap out all the time, yet?”

“You’re getting better,” he admitted, then ruffled her hair. “You’re finally tapping out at the moment you realize you’re not getting up, but I’d like you to start doing it while you’re being pinned instead of after.”

She nodded thoughtfully.

“Fine, fine. I’ll... consider it.”

He sent her a halfhearted glare. She smiled cheekily and rested a hand over the doorknob. “Ready for the press?”

“Never am,” he muttered.

They both brought their widest smiles to their faces as they stepped out to greet the paparazzi.

~~~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace

#maribat #satisfied #timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin

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vivithefolle · 3 years

Note

Hi Vivi, can you share some thoughts on the "Hermione deserves to be/should have married to XYZ because she is way too good for Ron" mentality of this fandom??

I’m gonna copy-paste a Quora answer of mine, because recycling is important!

Claiming that Ron is “out of Hermione’s league” is a statement rooted in sexism, classism and probably a bunch of other -isms.

It might seem like I’m just throwing buzz-words around but let me explain.

First off, the sexism.

Oh, the sexism.

As I’ve pointed it out in yet another one of my answers (I’m so sorry for drowning you all in a plethora of links), Ron is very much a female-coded male character.

Ron is emotional, wears his heart on his sleeve, has anxieties and inadequacies, walks off in order to cool down, has a temper, puts other people before his needs, and pretty much adopts Harry when he rescues him in the second book. He’s the Heart of the Trio: he doesn’t rely on sole logic, he can believe something without proof, he is sensitive and thus is the easiest to hurt emotionally.

Whether you call it a “beta male”, a “wuss”, “defying gender roles” or a “soft boy” is your own business, but the core of it is that Ron doesn’t meet the standards for people’s vision of a “desirable” masculine figure.

The little things Ron quietly performs in the books - when he helps Harry into his pyjamas in Chamber of Secrets because Harry’s arm is bloop; when he’s worrying about Hermione’s whereabouts in Prisoner of Azkaban; when he helps Harry unwind after his visions in Goblet of Fire; when he puts food onto Harry’s plate and wakes him up from his nightmares in Order of the Phoenix; when he beams that Hermione was “perfect, obviously” when she passes her Apparition test - all those caring gestures don’t seem like much, but if you bother to think about it, they paint an enormous picture.

Who gets Hermione to stop overworking while making her feel good about her accomplishments? Who comforts Harry from his nightmares and cares for him in the dead of the night, when nobody is awake? Who makes sure his friends are healthy and happy? Who wards off the dark and depressing thoughts, be it with his fists or a joke?

It’s Ron.

When you think about it, “traditional masculinity” in Harry Potter is as much frowned upon as “traditional feminity” is - which sometimes bites Rowling in the butt when you remember how she obviously seems to consider that Hermione and Ginny are the only desirable kind of girls.

Vernon Dursley? The entrepreneur “king of the household” prejudiced suburbian middle-class Dad? Fits in the usual tropes of traditional masculinity.

Dudley Dursley? The typical “boys will be boys” spoiled middle-class only child who’s the apple of his parents’ eyes and even takes up boxing, as if he wasn’t traditionally masculine enough.

Draco Malfoy? See Dudley, but toss in “upper-class posh aristocrat bully who doesn’t like to get his hands dirty so he has henchmen do it for him because he’s too rich for this sh-t”, would remind you of a few Christian Greys or Gatsbys.

Dolores Umbridge? Oh no, cat pictures, decorative plates, talks to teens as if they’re babies and PINK, SO MUCH PINK!!! So disgustingly feminine!!

Rowling very much frowns upon traditional gender roles - with Molly Weasley being an exception because Rowling feels very strongly about being a mother, and relates to Molly a lot.

Right - so, being a beautiful mess of paradoxes and contradictions (a “soft boi” who also punches bullies in the face, a fussy mother-hen who swears like a sailor, a tall athlete with badass scars on his arms who’s nurturing and sweet; in short, a wonderfully human character), Ron is obviously going to be a polarizing character. You painfully relate to him and get defensive when he’s criticized, you feel his characterization hits a bit too close to home so you hate him, or you disregard him completely because you can’t see anything “special” about him…

Now, onto another very, very sexist point that is often made.

People say that Hermione “deserves better” than Ron, often claiming that they “aren’t intellectual equals”, then citing Harry (who is mistaken as being some sort of slumbering genius but honestly, the kid is really a bit daft) or Draco (since apparently, being rich must equal to being intelligent) or, god forbid, Snape (because he’s a teacher and teachers are meant to be clever).

Soooo, I could go the loooooong way and pull out all the receipts that prove that none of these characters are perfectly intellectually matched to Hermione…

Or I could go the long way and simply give you this: this obsession with finding an “intellectual equal” for Hermione reflects the mentality of “women are not allowed to be better at something than their husband”.

Yep.

A woman has to be all-around pretty good at everything, whereas a man has to be the absolute best in his area of greatest competence (surely better than any puny female!) with a help-meet there to compensate for his weaknesses. People are very, very uncomfortable when Ron and Hermione reverse this dynamic. Hermione is extremely intelligent and dedicated to intellectual pursuits, but is complete pants at things like self-care and people skills. Ron is bright enough to keep up with her and strong in her areas of weakness.

Even if Ron was as dumb as a sack of rocks (he’s not), his other virtues are more than enough to “justify” Hermione loving him. (Because she needs an excuse?) But no. A woman has to be with a man who outdoes her in her area of greatest strength. - credit to @lytefoot

People don’t want Hermione to be with a man who’s her “equal.” They want her to be with a man who can be The Man so she can know the contentment of being The Woman.

But, with this sexist line of thought, how do we justify how Ron is supposed to be such a bad match for Hermione? Because if it was just about mere sexism, Romione would surely be more popular. Imagine! Ron happily raising the children, being a house-husband and proud of it, while Hermione is out there fighting for justice in the wizarding world! What a power-couple, defying norms and gender roles and not being the least bit conscious of it, prime OTP material for sure! So why do people still want Hermione to put Harry, Draco, or god forbid², Snape in Ron’s place? Is this an irrational hatred of redheads? An Harmionian’s delirious wet dream? A failure to separate the actors from their characters?

It’s all this and, quite frankly, something more: the inherent classism that comes with Ron’s status as an explicitly working-class coded character.

I know, I know, “Vivian! Calm down with the buzzwords, you’re starting to sound like an online pretend-feminist magazine!”

Or “Come on, people who don’t ship Ron and Hermione together aren’t all sexist or classist!”

Of course, of course! I know that! I’m not implying that!

But some of the “reasons” why they claim that Ron and Hermione can’t work - are extremely classist in nature, that’s just it!

Come on, think about it! What are the Number Ones arguments people always pull against Ron? Or the most common Ron-bashing tropes (look at fanfics and watch the number of stories that use at least one of those)?

Ron is stupid/mediocre

Ron is lazy/useless

Ron resents his wife’s hard work/success

Ron is a homophobe

Ron is a drunkard

Ron (the big prude who at 16 had never kissed a girl and sees a first kiss as the prelude to a wedding) is massively oversexed and cheats on Hermione with anything that moves

Not only do these “reasons” completely ignore ALL OF RON’S CHARACTERIZATION - except for the “lazy” bit but come off it, all teenagers are lazy and Hermione’s the exception to the rule - but it matches perfectly with the negative stereotypes associated with working-class white men in fiction.

It’s also very funny to note how many (assumedly middle-class or financially secure) fans look down on Ron for being “whiny” or “greedy” when he expresses the desire to have money of his own, or blame his parents for “not knowing when to stop” or “being irresponsible”, or even look down on them for being “too proud to accept help”!! Also how shocked people are when Ron dares to stand up for himself when Hermione or Harry act badly towards him. How dare this country boy not listen to the wisdom of his social “betters”?

So, obviously, because our Heroine can’t go with a Nasty, Mediocre Working-Class Man, she must be paired off with someone of Proper Status: say, a Hero that was raised in a middle-class home and might be a bit psychologically damaged but it’s nothing all those gold coins in his vault can’t fix; or this Rich Posh Aristocrat who actively rooted for her death, he’s a little bit eccentric and has some exotic pet-names to call you, but I’m sure you’ll learn to love him and will unearth the gold coins in his bank account… I mean, the heart of gold that lies within the surface; oh, why not a Way Too Big An Age Difference Teacher if you’re looking for a “cultured man” who has zero things in common with you; we can also bring Convenient Plot Device Famous Rich Foreign Athlete if you want some diversity and you don’t feel original!

But we can’t - oh, we mustn’t let her be with this Terrible Working-Class Boy! His brothers are fine, they have money, they have jobs, so they’re obviously Not As Mediocre. But let our precious Hermione be with this Just-Got-Out-Of-School hooligan? She can’t possibly be in love with him! You’ll see darling, you’ll get bored eventually! He’s too mediocre for you, you deserve a man who outclasses you - I mean, who can provide for you! You’re a fragile little flower who scars people for life when she’s not happy with them, what makes you think that this boy can possibly handle you even though he’s done so for the past seven years?

You wanted it, you got it.

People are shallow, have misconceptions about Ron’s character that they are unwilling to correct or use classist and sexist arguments to try to make it so that either Ron is the Devil himself / Hermione is a higher kind of being that can only orgasm if sufficiently “intellectually stimulated” / what-have-you.

#vivi answers #ask #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley defence squad #sexism #classism #hp meta #fandumb #hp fandom

108 notes · View notes

cyberdva · 4 years

Text

The Haunting Of Queen Mary's Castle- C.B ~P.1☆

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Main Masterlist

Colby Brock Masterlist

Summary: Sam and Colby had the bright idea to drag their friends to Scotland, and where would the perfect video location be? How about Queen Mary’s haunted castle? It didn’t help that aspiring physic, Y/N wasn’t too happy to head out of the country, but Colby was there to help. And maybe he wanted something more than being there to help her. Could the spirits be on his side for once?

Word Count: 4k

Date Uploaded: 8/31/20

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: This fic is from the vault. I wrote this around January of this year, I start school again in two days and the work and stress load is going to be horrible, especially with it being half in person, half online. I hope to get some more creativity back when more pressure is put on me. I have plenty of ideas with just not enough passion and time. It’ll trickle back one day.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

“Holy Shit…” Colby held his camera closer to his chest as he walked closer towards the breathtaking Neidpath Castle. It’s aura seemed to engulf the curiosity of the young man. His friends splurged on a ten hour trip to Scotland for a quick Youtube video series, he knew near the end, half of them would be begging to go home. The comical routine played its key role in every single episode, no matter what the occasion was. It did make good money to be completely honest. Although, that wasn’t the main focus of their careers. He found himself under a tall bridge-like banister connecting its way to the entire estate. Next to him was his long time roommate, Corey. He sported a bright yellow hoodie in large contrast with Colby’s black one. It was sort of funny, each of his friends had a unique personality, yet connected so well. Of course, they were wearing their own merch. It helped the sales go up, not to mention it was awfully comfortable. A perk to the business if you say.

“And we thought the church was cool…” Sam, Colby’s best friend and other handler of the videography series on their channel, gaped in front of him. This place was bigger than any other private plot they’ve ever visited! It was a couple thousand dollars to rent out for the night, but with the palace’s history it was born to make a hefty income.

“We have this all to ourselves!” Colby nudged Sam, he handed the camera off to his friend Jake, who was talking a mile a minute to the other attendees. A new face poked out of the regular bunch.

“Are you gonna catch me when I get scared, Y/N?” Jake stuck his face in the view of the content woman. Her persona seemed quite drained due to the long trip. She was partially new to the Youtube platform, especially with ghost hunting. Not like Y/N was easily frightened, unlike her friends, it just wasn’t her go to for a cheap thrill. Nerves were indefinitely strained, since it was the first time out with the entire group. Nothing Jake couldn’t fix.

Her laugh trickled out blissfully, ”Wouldn’t Tara get jealous? You don't want to get on her bad side? Do you?” He quickly shook his head and gave a hesitant reply with his sheepish smile.

“We get this all to ourselves?” Colby queried. This place was double the size of the Trap House by far, they had to be scared shitless by the time they left. There had to be some sort of restrictions or a down sided catch to it all.

“Did you do any research on this place?” Y/N slid up behind the unfocused main man, a small quirk to her. Colby jumped a smidge in light shock. He wasn’t expecting anyone to be genuinely interested with the property. Colby mentally cursed for being so jumpy.

“Jesus Y/N, you scared the shit out me.” He replied, not answering the girl’s question. Y/N met Sam and Colby way back in highschool. Each of them slithered their way into the other’s channels and have made frequent appearances. They definitely weren’t strangers, even though it seemed that way with fans. Y/N had more paranormal encounters out of all of the boys, despite a bit of distaste towards the topic. She was lugged around on long adventures to help them with videos. Some of her videos ranged from ‘‘accidentally’ joining a cult to “selling her soul”. She was the wicca-pedia they needed to not get possessed each trip.

“Ok pussy.” She walked off to talk to Corey, the pair oddly all had a strong connection from somewhere, and Colby sighed as to quickly put on his cheery online persona once more.

Sam waved up at a vacant window as the group, “Hello!” The woman replied unknowingly and aroused quite a shock of embarrassment. A faint giggling came from the couple in the back, “No,no, I do it better.” Corey got a hold of herself, “A Ra-Ta-Ta-tah.” The two burst back into their ceremonial laughs and briefed on about some TikToks they watched on the remotely silent ride from the airport.

Sam turned back around to see the shorter woman. Notwithstanding her first place in line, “How is he gonna get a kiss kiss? Very ugly to me!” The duo rounded up to each other and laughed on their way up the trail, leaving the others confused and focused on talking to the groundskeeper.

“I’m assuming you are the caretaker of this?” The blonde one waved more at the older woman. She seemed more on the reserved side and peeled her eyes at the sight of a camera. A lovely addition to the already uncomfortable scene.

The woman gracefully approached Sam, “Yes, Yes I am. My name is Katrina.” Sam went on with the lady into a dark back door. The young adults glanced on in uncertainty.

“Yo, why are they going off by themselves?” Colby asked Jake. The first rule of all of their videos was not to go off by yourself. Bad shit always follows. “He literally was like-”

“He’s been looking at her ass like all day.” Jake joked back, Corey attentively diverted himself from Y/N to get a jump in on whatever that conversation had morphed to.

“That’s whatever the fuck he was doing.” They all snickered and continued on with the inappropriate jokes. Editing this would be like a field day to Reggie.

“Is Kat gonna think…” Colby looked around jokingly, getting another round of laughter from the friends.

“I don’t know..” Colby softly replied. He pressed on to dumbfoundedly impersonate Sam’s girlfriend, “Oh it’s not cheating if he’s not in the same country.”

“It’s sexual relations Jake.” Y/N whispered at him. They continued to poke fun out of the cougar-lady, but her and Sam rushed back soon enough. Just in time to ask questions.

“Uh, that was pretty much the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Sam pulled everyone aside with a smug look on his face. He honestly always had one of those. The blank stares that were thrown back at him weren’t what he expected.

“Uh Sam what does that mean.” Jake chuckled. He looked around at everyone not able to catch on. The seriousness of the situation began to settle as everyone genuinely thought Sam could have done some weird shit with that groundskeeper.

“All I have say is that was quick man…” Colby scraped some gunk off of her nails while waiting for following instructions.

Sam obviously didn’t understand, “To fill you guys in I had to learn, kind of, where all the specific light switches were. I didn’t even look around. I just kinda looked at the ground until she saw.”

“You were like that’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” Colby turned the camera to focus on him and Jake mocking Sam’s slight happiness by seeing fancy rocks.

“It was only the stairs!” Sam said defeatedly, he didn’t want to spoil the real first looks.”That’s just giving you a little hint, but um, I asked her if she could you know fill us in on some of the information of, likewise castles here, the hauntings or any deaths and she said she knows some information.”

“Oh cool…” Colby was already quite unenthusiastic about this idea anyways. Katrina retreated out of the building quickly with keys in her hand. She sprinted over to all of them.

“Look it’s Sam’s new girlfriend!” Y/N cheered. Sam spun his head around, probably pulling a muscle in the process. The pure look of utter horror could not be more hysterical. Sam became flustered with a loss for words, his face tinted with a light shade of pink. Before he could muster up any sort of retort Katrina, the groundlady, came jogging back to the group.

“What’s some of the backstory about this castle?” Jake asked, he spun some rings around in his hand. Paying no mind to the other plot line adhering to his right.

“This castle was built in the second half of the 14th-Century, but there was another castle built before that in here. That was built in 110,so uh.” Few ‘Wows’ and ‘Oohs’ cut her off. “That was quite a while ago, but the Neidpath was built by the Family Of Fraser’s and they built a Buddha made castle. This one was burned down by the English army. After a guy named Simon Fraser, who’s the cousin of Braveheart, was captured and executed and that’s why the Buddha made the castle was burned to the ground. Another family built this castle, which was besieged in 1650 by the Cromwellian army. Legend says that this was the only stronghold of the Scottish borders which actually withstanded the siege. Whether it’s true or not, we don’t know, but what we do want you to know is that one-third of the castle collapsed, non-existing anymore.” She spoke with absolute passion. The place had so much rich history, the surrounding observers listened with extreme intent, not to miss one sentence in case it may help their investigation.

Colby raised his eyebrows at this question, “One-third of it?”

Katrina continued on, “Because of the siege. We do have a dungeon in the castle as well.” Everyone went silent.

“A dungeon?!” Jake nearly dropped a silver band he was picking on by the mention of this. His personality perked up and suddenly the whole crowd was uplifted. Finding weird places in “abandoned” areas is always a plus side, but this tops all of it.

“Guys shut up!” Y/N whacked Jake with her phone, he stuck his tongue out while rubbing his shoulder. She didn’t want to leave too bad of a first impression. It would be mortifying if something went wrong and the owner already hates you.

“Is there a dragon?” Corey brought everyone back to the topic of the castle, he didn’t want to be there a minute longer, but in this group you just do what you’re told and shut your mouth.

“We do have quite a big colony of bats under the roof, so I’m not sure if you really want to go down there Mister.” The group laughed and groaned at Katrina’s statement. Running into bats could be the worst thing to encounter.

Corey nodded in response, “So there are dragons.”

The history went on, “It was quite widely used during the 14th and 15th century because that was the only reason for the whole county.” The darker side of it all became slowly prevalent. It wasn’t just a posh place the others expected it to be.

“Prison?” Sam posed. This just got a lot weirder than they all expected.

“Yes. You’ll be able to get into it because there is this rough opening through, which was made in the 17th century, but before that the only entrance to the dungeon was through the trap door from the guards. I should have shown you that, but I’m not going to. You’ll find it by yourself.

“Oh god…” Colby rubbed the bridge between his nose, an inevitable headache was beginning to form.

Sam tittered, “Are we just going to fall through? Is that ok?” He got no proper answer, which set his worries on the run.

“So, the last prisoner was there in 1594, I think. We know there was a teenage boy like a 14 year old boy who was just pick pocketing people and he ended up here. The note didn’t say that he actually came out of there again.”

“Like meaning it’s haunted?” Colby preyed on.

“Uh, it is haunted!” Katrina stated blandly.

“Fun for us!” Y/N shrugged to hide her panic. Colby glanced at her. He sensed her anxiousness, he didn’t want her to be upset. Definitely not in the shitty environment. Of course, he cared for her, he just didn’t know how to open up and tell her. Would this really be the place?

“We do have our own one. Her name is Jean Douglas. She died in 1750, she was the daughter of one of the owners of the castle and she died of a broken heart.” The mood fell, a breeze pulled through and messed with the mics. Leaving just a sprinkle of static in the footage. Just in time.

“She was engaged to a young man, but he wasn't wealthy enough to win her family over, so he went abroad to win his fortune and fame and because he was away for far too long she went really sickly and pale and she didn’t eat. She didn’t sleep, so she was really frail when he finally came. When he was riding his horse through the archway she was at the window and he failed to recognize her because she was so altered and broke her heart and she died on the spot.”

The group had a silent reaction to the news, not knowing how to react.

“Ever since then she is walking through the castle being very tall, very gray, very pale looking, weeping.”

“What’s her name again?”

“Jean.” A tiny shiver racked through Sam’s body. He didn’t tell anyone. Just not to set anyone off. Now he really didn’t want to face this spirit.

“Have you ever seen Jean?” Y/N asked, trying her best not to be insensitive with the approach. These things are held really close to some people. Their experiences could be life changing, for others it could most certainly be a lot different.

“No, but I do have ghostbusters coming in several times a year and I asked what was the best recording ever and they were like ‘We got brilliant ones of screams.”

“Ah..”

“And I was like inside of the castle. I’m here sometimes on my own in the middle of the night at midnight, one, two, three o’clock. When I have to lock up after the events and such. Do I really want to do that with screams in my head? No I don’t, I said no.”

“Alright sounds like it’s a nice haunted Scottish castle.” Sam tried his best to play off his uncomfortable feelings with humor. It did not work.

“I’m going to do the dungeon now. I’m not telling you what I’m going to do now and then the place will be yours” Katrina headed back into the castle with an odd vibe.

“So, she’s gonna make us fall down the trap door, wow.” Jake leaned in for slight commentary.

“How much do you want to bet that we’re going to die?” Y/N grabbed her backpack to locate her wallet and pulled out a twenty.

“I bet 15.” Corey grabbed his wallet too.

“Guy, that is so sad though…” Colby came into the center of all of them, “Ok, that story. Imagine your husband comes home on a little horse and you're in this window, literally right there and then you die on the spot because he's like ‘Who’s that?’ It’s a tall, frail old lady that’s crying everywhere.” Colby clung to his sweatshirt, “Oh that’s so creepy!”

“Colby if you ever do that to me you’ll have to go back to VidCon alone again.” Y/N was putting in her best bet and threw a five at him. “You can use that for your ticket.” He blushed, just like Sam moments before.

Sam added more commentary from behind the camera, “They’ve heard screams within the castle.” Katrina came right back out with her deafening personality, handed the keys to Sam and hopped right back in her small, blue car, and left with no exchange of words.

“She creeps me out.” Jake in discomfort. To be fair, she is a creepy ass old lady who owns a castle in the middle of nowhere.

Corey turned away from the groundskeeper's car and shrugged off his jitters, "So we have a castle to ourselves...”

“This is amazing!” Sam couldn’t contain his excitement.

“No Shit. I still can’t grasp why you all buyout expensive stuff like a castle.” Y/N gripped the abundance of bet money and slid it all bad into her bag.

Colby inspected the property more in depth, as if he was waiting for a ghoul to poke out at any given time, “This is where we’re staying tonight.” With a grand motion upwards Sam panned the camera up and down.

“And you guys...” Sam pulled the camera away from the stronghold and directed the frame to the rest of his friends,”..have not even seen the inside at all.”

“I know, I know.” Colby pulled his beanie down his head, the enlightened sun seemed to cascade into the clouds with a faint breeze.

“Let’s go find our cottage, get ourselves completely set up and ready for the night. Take some pictures before sun down and then go into the castle, because like we can’t lose this sunset and we got to figure this out.” Sam did some weird hand movements in front of the camera and handed it off to the other’s opinions.

Colby nodded his head up and down in agreement,” Yeah definitely.” Jake wandered around with a rock and for the most part everyone said eye to eye.

“Unfair treatment. I wanted to go in now.” Y/N gave a side glance to Sam and Corey brushed his hand over her playfully. She walked back into frame,“All I gotta say is, Colby Brock Hot Edits.” Colby walked up next to her with a shit-eating grin in approval. Who doesn’t love Colby Brock edits?”

“Shut up, you’re just jealous that there’s no Y/N L/N hot edits for you.” He playfully jabbed back at her with a growing flutter in his stomach. He fucking hated that feeling to no end, but it was such a drug. Only when she was around.

“Alright let’s go, I’m bored as shit.” Jake came back with his new pet rock and put his arm around Corey. Sam cut the camera and went down the forked path. Right down the road was a cottage for visitors.

“Hey Y/N,” Colby came jogging up to the colleen, “Did you see any weird stuff yet?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, a symptom of his bashfulness, he began to rethink his uncolorful wording in his sentence. He just had the sudden urge to go up to her and she wasn’t complaining one bit.

She looked over at him, “No, not yet. I just got really put-off by that lady. She just was so…” Her eyes connected with his and a glistening highlight overcame the peaking iris. The words weren’t verbally there, but he understood what was there.

Sam cut her off, “Dude. Look how big this place is.” It was rationally smaller than their house back in LA, but it was sizable for an ancient brick living space.

Jake made the most commotion out of the seven, “Whoever is first picks where they sleep!” He dashed ahead of the group and everyone picked up speed, almost dropping the rock he just adopted.

“I think there’s only like three beds.” Sam panted. No one paid much mind to him and kept running. They all toppled into the door and Corey unlocked it, which left the rest to run up to a room. Jake took the first one to the left, Sam tumbled into the one across. A room had a small couch for Corey and last, but not least…

“Looks like we’re bunking L/N.”

“Fuck you Brock.”

Sam peaked his head in, “Guys, we have film some shots of the place. Come on.” The three made it to the living room where all and sundry were. Sam grabbed his camera and got everyone in shot.

“What?!” With grand motions each person stood up in their acts of shock. Even though it had been there for a solid five minutes the audience always has to be entertained.

Colby turned around, “Yo! We got a TV too!” A small Toshiba was put on a step stool. It would probably gain no use tonight anyways. It looked like a piece of crap too, thank god for Youtube.

They all got up from their seats and went to uncover the rest of the place, “This is nice, very cool.” Colby led them into Corey’s room. A huge bed frame was around a pink canopy bed. Old photos and paintings of the fortress were hung evenly around the perimeter. Sam went through the rest of the rooms and told everyone to head off and get ready.

The guys took cold showers and Y/N soaked in a muddled bath in the basement. She didn’t like it here. Her mind couldn’t unravel much. Sam was stationed upstairs doing a camera touch up with Jake by his side talking about the new Harry Styles album. A half an hour later everyone was wearing at least one faction of Sam and Colby merch, phones were charged and beams from flashlights slid across the floor like a jumping snake.

The group divided into pairs as they walked to the castle. The sky grew much darker than expected and it felt like a looming spirit chipped away at the warm function of friends. The camera was whipped right back out.

“Alright, we are all showered, changed, and ready to explore the castle before sunset.” All went under the arch while the audio was whacked around by the wind.

Colby turned from his conversation to the viewers, "I’m still like flipping out that we’re staying here tonight. That’s crazy!” His lantern swung below him and the towering castle was engulfed by the purple skies. “Look at this place! Look at that beautiful sunset!” He yelled.

Y/N raised her eyebrows, “Since when were you PG-13?”

He blandly stared at her,”Shut up I need to make money,” He looked back at the camera, “When I was like blow-drying my hair and stuff after my shower, my hair dryer was insanely powerful. There’s obviously a lot of energy in it, like the voltage.”

“I thought he said blow-j-.” Corey chimed in. He shut himself up so they wouldn’t get demonetized, it would be a funny way to go down though. Y/N and Colby giggled along with him. It wasn’t a rare occasion that they all were out laughing and joking, just the side chick with the haunted castle.

Corey swung his flashlight up and down, “His blow dryer started smoking and like almost blew up.”

“So, what I’m saying is the spirits could use all of this energy to talk to us.”

They all made it to the castle and it was around five-thirty. There wasn’t much to do at this time, but she was always watching. There was something about to happen they could all feel it and that thing, it wasn’t going to be good.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Part 2? Send me an ask if you want it!!

#Sam and Colby #colby brock x reader #colby brock imagine #colby brock x you #colby brock #xplr #sam and colby fan fiction #sam and colby fan fic #jake webber x reader #jake webber imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #queen mary #corey scherer x reader #fandom

368 notes · View notes

song-tam · 3 years

Text

The Prince and the Thief - Chapter One: That Fateful Bag of Gold - Tam x Keefe

A/N: Yes it is back, I am back with the series, I’m finally publishing the first official chapter and not just the prologue. I’m way too excited for this and I can’t believe I actually finished the chapter, it dragged on forever. Oh, and yes, the girl in the glasses is Sophie, even though they don’t know it yet, and she will come into play later on in the series, so be prepared for that.

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: minor curse words, being disinherited, mentions of and attempts at stealing, Tam’s a little bit angsty, being pinned down, mentions of being tied up, mentions of Cassius Sencen—I think I got them all, but tell me if there are any other warnings I should add!

Prologue | Series Masterlist

“Did you hear about King Cassius disinheriting the young prince? His own son!”

Crown Prince Keefe Sencen—or just regular Keefe now, he supposed—stiffened at the gossip from the passerby. He didn’t particularly enjoy being reminded that he’d been stripped of his royal title, his crown, everything he’d ever known. He’d never liked his father, sure, Keefe was glad to be away from him, but life in the palace… that was all he knew. He didn’t know how the outside world worked. He didn’t know how to survive on the streets. He didn’t know any skills that might actually be useful. And yet here he was—no protection, having only the clothes on his back and a small bag of gold.

Here, without a crown, Keefe was about as wanted and important as a dead rat.

Keefe sighed and started making his way down the street, anxious to get away from it all, figuring he’d find a tavern to stay the night and figure it out from there. He had enough gold for that, right? Problem was, Keefe had no idea where the hell he would find a tavern, or really where anything was in the kingdom.

Keefe groaned softly, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m doomed.”

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Tam Song had found a new target--and boy, was this one going to be easy.

The boy could have barely been older than Tam, maybe sixteen, seventeen at most. He was tall, blond, and completely out of place out on the streets. From the crisp white tunic and and clueless expression on his face, Tam could easily tell that he was a highborn. Maybe a count’s son, or even a duke’s.

What a member of high society would be doing in one of the worst parts of Erisdell, Tam had no idea, but so long as he got his money, he didn’t give a shit.

The boy had a bag--probably filled with some silver, if Tam was lucky, gold--strapped to his belt. He wasn’t bothering to protect it or even put up his guard. Typical.

“Highborns like you are just asking to get robbed in the slums,” Tam muttered as he started maneuvering through a crowd, flexing his fingers, ready to grab the loot and sneak away before the boy even noticed it was missing.

Tam reached for the bag, wrapping his hand around it, and--

“Oof!” A girl with blond hair suddenly bumped into Tam, who went flying into the boy and all three of them were sprawled into a pile on the ground.

“Watch it,” Tam hissed at the blonde, who nodded clumsily and started feeling around for her glasses, which had flown off her face when they’d all collided.

“I am so, so sorry,” the girl squeaked out as she scrambled to her feet, and promptly ran away.

Muttering to himself, Tam started dusting his pants and getting ready to make a narrow escape. The girl had complicated things, but he could still steal the money and get out of there. He’d be one step closer to getting Linh back.

A hand grabbed his wrist and Tam jumped, sure it was one of the kingdom patrols in charge of wrangling up Erisdell’s thieves. Tam was good at what he did and he knew how not to get caught, but he’d still had a few encounters with patrols and he wasn’t looking for one now.

But it was only the boy, still on the ground, but glaring at Tam and glancing at the bag in his hand. “That’s mine,” he said gruffly. “You’re a thief.”

Tam rolled his eyes. This was getting more complicated than Tam wanted, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. If he timed it right, he could still get out of here--and worst case, he probably could take this highborn, though throwing hands would draw more attention than wanted. “Obviously, I’m a thief.”

The boy seemed taken aback that Tam had admitted to it, but nodded curtly. “Well, now that I’ve caught you, you can’t steal my gold anymore. So give me my bag and go pickpocket someone else.”

Oh my God, if he stays here in the slums, he’ll be dead within the week.

Tam didn’t care, though. Whether this boy lived or died didn’t matter to him. It may have been a coldhearted mindset, but it kept him alive. He couldn’t afford to worry about anyone but himself--he was just trying to survive, and maybe if just kept going, he’d find someplace better than this. He’d get out of the slums, if he was lucky out of Erisdell, and he’d make a new life for himself. Leave his past behind and get a better future than the present he was living in.

He’d find Linh again.

But for all of that to happen, he’d need money. And that bag was one step closer to everything he wanted.

Besides, a highborn like this boy didn’t know how to appreciate money. Tam stealing his gold might reflect badly on him, but at the end of the day, what did he care? Daddy probably had a vault full of gold somewhere in a fancy manor. This was barely a dent in his fortune.

“You’ve got plenty of money,” Tam muttered, trying to worm out of the boy’s grasp. “I need this more than you.”

“This is all I have left,” the boy replied, his eyes narrowing.

“You expect me to believe that? This time next year, you’ll probably be inheriting a fortune, a dukedom. This bag of gold is worthless--”

“It’s not worthless to me. I need it. It’s all I have left,” The boy wrenched the bag of gold from Tam’s grip, getting to his feet and glowering even harder.

Tam blinked--it had been a while since someone had gotten the better of him--but quickly regained his senses and dodged for the bag. The boy moved out of the way, and they kept at this dance for a minute or so, Tam trying to steal and the boy trying to avoid being stolen from.

Is this really worth it? A voice inside Tam’s head whispered. There are other pockets to pick. This’ll attract unwanted attention.

Yes. Tam gritted his teeth. Nobles like the boy, they didn’t show up in the slums often. Money like this, in this part of Erisdell… it was scarce. But if Tam had a chance to get his hands on some gold, no matter how small the amount, he sure as hell was going to take it.

Whatever it took.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ ༻✧༺　༻✦༺ ༻✧༺

Keefe wondered why this guy was so adamant about stealing from him.

He understood the dude was a thief, but surely there were easier targets?

Then again, after living in the palace and being coddled for so long with no survival skills, he was easy a target as any.

Could he make a run for it? Or the patrols! There were many patrols that had been placed in the slum sectors of Erisdell, specifically to catch thieves and keep everything in order as much as possible. Problem was, there didn’t seem to be any patrols around.

“I--” Keefe started to say, but he was suddenly pinned to the ground. He thought it might’ve somehow been the boy, but Keefe turned his head to the side and noticed the boy was also on the ground, scowling.

“Who the hell are you?” the boy snapped.

Keefe heard someone cluck their tongue behind him, though he couldn’t see their face. “Now, that is no way to talk to your former boss, is it, Tam?”

All color drained from the boy’s--Tam’s--face. “You,” he hissed. “I told you I was done stealing for you, and I won’t do it again, not after--”

“Calm down,” the voice said relaxedly. “I wouldn’t take you back anyway. I’m just going to give you a warning--my targets are mine and mine alone. You can still scavenge like the street dog you were before I made you something, but those big targets… you don’t get to go anywhere near them.”

“Tie them up,” the voice commanded to whoever was holding Keefe and Tam down. “Leave them in an alley. If they’re lucky, someone will find them.”

“And if they aren’t, well… problem solved.”

Taglist: @stardustanddaffodils @dreaminq-out-loud @sunset-telepath @summer-waves9764 @thoserainyrainboots@thatonewhalewatcher @jenniecrushed @jaxtheshade @beautifuldaysahead @bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell @real-smooth@scribblesnsketches05 @the-sky-isnt-blueee@spreadyourwingsandfly @cadence-talle @linhamon2 @xonar-verse @an-absolute-travesty @hershis-kotlc @turquoise-skyyyy @blxckh0les42 @completekeefitztrash @gay-paladin-of-etheria @the-robins-chronicles @the-genius-behind-the-mask @the-angel-of-all-storms @bluemallowmelt

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starforgednegativespace · 3 years

Text

Part One: Animus

I had been on Animus less than a stellar day and already felt like I'd been gargling with lava. Even within the relative shelter of Rampart, the planet-side mining complex where I'd come to meet my contact, the air was barely breathable. Decades of disrepair had left the air scrubbers barely functioning; apparently the locals were used to it, but even the recycled air on Rune Song tasted how I imagine a cool summer breeze would taste by comparison.

In the warm rain, Rampart's wide streets, asphalt peppered with sickly coloured dust, shone under flickering neon lights from overhanging signs for drug bars, pubs and brothels; everything a miner risking their lives and health could want. I walked through the darkening streets, hands jammed firmly in the pockets of my deep red flight suit, one hand gripping the barely functioning bolt pistol in my left pocket, concealed under the bulk of my belt pouches and rain-slicked overcoat. I was tired. Being a spacer, you have to deal with local times being different in settlements than the ship time your body gets used to, and right now I should've been wrapped up in my bunk aboard Rune Song letting the Six-Ten-Ten handle things, but instead I had planet under my feet and an early evening appointment I had no right to be keeping to keep. I stifled a yawn, pushed my rain-soaked mauve hair back from my face with my free hand, and pushed open the door of Kenji's saloon.

The saloon air was warm and smelled like stale liquor and just the faintest hint of the pervasive toxicity of Animus. Behind the bar, a bent-out-of-shape old timer with sharp, angular features and a bad prosthetic arm was pouring liquor for grim faced miners, while a couple of disinterested looking girls wearing revealing outfits which showed the toxic scarring on their thighs and collars pulled silver from eager locals for games of Traust. Some patrons gave me a quick look, and few looked long as I entered, turning back to their drinks and gambling, muttered conversations lost under the distorted electronic jazz sputtering from the jukebox in the corner. I opened my jacket, shook some rainwater from it, and scanned the room. Over in the opposite corner from the jukebox, sitting alone with a pair of drinks, was Shepherd. She nodded, full lips curling slightly into what you'd charitably call a smile, motioning for me to go over. I scanned the room again; none of the people here looked like Ikaro's goons, and none of them had the air of mercenaries about them. My grip on the bolt pistol relaxed, and I headed to her table, dropping into the worn synthetic-leather booth opposite her.

"Kiri Quint, in the flesh" she purred, raising a slightly grubby glass to me. "How long's it been?"

"Too long, Shepherd" I replied, courteous as I could muster, and reached for the second glass. Her hand slapped mine away. "Sorry, I assumed..."

"The good liquor doesn't come cheap round these parts," she shot back. "I'm sure Kenji has some forge-spawn piss the locals love so much with your name on it." She motioned to the bartender, then pointed to me. The bartender nodded and started pouring what I assumed was some cheap local faux-liquor into a plastic tumbler. Shepherd smiled that tight, half smile again. "It's on me."

"Still a saint, huh Shep?" I pulled the hip flask from my inner pocket, unscrewed it and took a pull of the burning liquor within. Shepherd's eyes narrowed. I offered her the flask. "This is the good stuff."

Shepherd declined the flask with a wave of an immaculately manicured hand.

"No offence, Cutter, but I don't know where you've been"

The bartender, Kenji I assume, brought the dirty plastic tumbler over, dropped it in front of me and grunted, eyes giving me the once over. He glanced at Shepherd like he was waiting to be dismissed, then slinked away when she continued to ignore him. I picked up the tumbler and sniffed it.

"Smells like hydraulic fluid. You trying to poison me, Shep?"

I forced a laugh, took a sip and grimaced.

"Always willing to try new things, huh?" Shep smirked and sipped her drink, long lashes fluttering slightly over the glass as her eyes stayed on me. I exhaled, stifled another yawn, and looked around the dingy tavern. I motioned with my finger.

"This yours?"

"Mostly. I have a controlling stake in operations on Rampart. With that comes, I guess you could call it a stewardship of the local entertainment. It's a symbiotic relationship."

"Oh, I get it, you pay the miners salaries then take it back through whatever means necessary?"

She smirked again.

"Pretty much, yes."

I took another sip from the dirty cup of cheap synthesized booze and fished around in one of the many pockets of my flight suit until I found the crumpled pack of nic-rods. I put it to my mouth and Shepherd, right on cue, was there with a light for me.

"Thanks." I blew stale smoke to the side. The nic-rods were old, and I barely smoked unless I was very, very tense; and right now I was just that. Shepherd had that way about her. Always had, even back when she was calling herself Hal and sporting a man's body.

"You're welcome. I know yours isn't working."

Rust-dammit

"You heard about that?"

Shit. Shit shit shit. If Shepherd knew, then that meant Ikaro probably knew, and if Ikaro knew...

"I like to keep tabs on my favourite Spacers. I have to admit, I was impressed when I heard our little Cutter was Ironsworn now." She put her drink down and lit a nic-rod of her own, blowing sweet-smelling smoke towards me. "Relax, Kiri. She doesn't know. Vlada Ikaro and I are no longer associates."

Associate was one way of putting it. Executive assistant to a blood-thirsty warlord was a more accurate description.

"Nobody leaves Ikaro" I said flatly. My hand slipped back into my pocket to make sure the gun was still there, my instinct to get up and run from this place was overwhelming. Cut and run at the first sign of trouble, like I always did. That's why they called me Cutter back then.

"You did. I never got the chance to tell you how much it amused me to learn that you took her cargo. Her ship too. The sheer audacity of it."

"I earned Rune Song."

"I'm sure you did. For what it's worth, Vlada and I parted company on rather better terms. We came to an amicable agreement."

"How much of your share in Rampart does she get?"

That was maybe too far. Shepherd sucked her teeth and put her glass down. Guess I hit a nerve. But my point still stood. Nobody leaves Ikaro. Not really. "Look, I was surprised to hear from you. I had no idea you were even in this sector, having a Herald track me down came as kind of a shock, not least of all because this whole set up seems a little unglamorous for your tastes."

She seemed to loosen up a little.

"You'd be surprised; far end of town there are some really rather lovely subterranean apartments. Clean air, access to all the best shipments, the works. And far less getting my hands dirty in the process than organising wet-work for Vlada Ikaro. No, I do well here."

"Here's to moving on." I raised my cup and drained it. "Now, why don't you tell me why you asked me here?"

Shepherd raised her glass, took a sip, and stubbed the half-smoked nic-rod out in a copper ashtray.

"I need a courier. Someone capable"

I narrowed my eyes

"You have silver to pay for Heralds who can track me down, why not use one of them?"

She smiled that slight, tight smile again.

"The Heralds share information. I need someone who can afford to be more discreet. Someone who would get the job done no matter what..." Wait for it... "Someone Ironsworn."

There it was

"Why all the secrecy, Shep? What's the job?"

Shepherd's eyes lit up like she couldn't wait to tell me some wild secret. She leaned in close, so close I could smell the expensive booze on her breath.

"You want to know why I picked this world to settle on? Why someone like me would choose to cool their heels in a rusty mining colony on a toxic shithole like Animus?" I nodded. " Let me ask you this, Kiri, when you were landing here, did your nav-com take you on an unusual trajectory?"

"Yeah, I figured atmospheric disturbances or something. It's not uncommon for a world like this"

"No. Port control have orders to steer ships away from a particular region of near space. You see, up there..." she pointed upwards. "Orbiting right above our heads, just out of atmo... is a fucking precursor vault."

By Iron, I swore. I unscrewed the cap of my hip flask and took a long pull. Precursor vaults were scattered throughout The Forge; unimaginably ancient relics from a long-dead race of technologically advanced beings who once ruled this region of space. Rumours of tombs filled with relics of incredible power and technology were common among spacers. Some people thought they were myths, but those people had never flown the drift and seen the horrors of the forge up close.

"What's the job?"

"I need you to take some cargo to Paradox Station at Hera, I have a contact there who'll give you the co-ordinates to a deep-space research station where the cargo goes. A simple delivery job with a stop-over, but it's long distance and I need someone I can trust and someone with an Eidolon Drive. And if I recall, Rune Song is equipped with such a drive..."

I nodded again and stubbed the nic rod out.

"That kind of distance is gonna cost, Shep. At least -"

"Twenty thousand silver, ten up front, ten on completion."

Twenty thousand silver was a lot of money for a simple cargo run. More than double what I was going to ask, and what I was going to ask was double what the job was worth. There was a lot I didn't trust about this whole situation, but Rune Song needed repairs and I was down to my last few silver. Shit, it was worth it.

"What's the cargo?" I asked.

#ironsworn #starforged #ttrpg #solo rpg #actual play

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p-artsypants · 3 years

Text

I’ll Handle This (5)

In Which There is an Akuma

Ao3 | FF.net

Plagg was laying on the bed when he returned. “Oh good, you’re back. I was kind of worried about you—“

“There’s an Akuma!” Adrien interrupted.

Plagg’s eyes lit up. “An Akuma, you say? How interesting...”

“Yeah yeah, just do the thing that sucks me in the ring!”

“I’ll warn you ahead of time, when I’m in your body like this, the suit becomes factory default. Oh, and you’ll be able to see and hear everything I do.”

“Great. This whole ‘Invasion of the Bodysnatchers’ episode is getting better and better.”

“Adrien, Claws out!”

That was an odd sensation. Now Adrien knew what Taffy felt like. He felt his whole body grow long and thin, before spiraling smaller and smaller. There was every color in the rainbow, flashing in a nauseous wave, and then, he was looking through his eyes again.

“Ha!” Said Plagg with a little satisfaction. “Feels good to be on the other side.” He walked over to the mirror, where Adrien could finally see what ‘factory default’ meant.

He looked like a ninja. Not like a Naruto ninja, but like a real Sengoku period, 15th century ninja. An all black, cloth ensemble, with foot wraps and a thick belt. Instead of claws on his fingertips, there were long blades attached to the back of his hand, almost like wolverine. Instead of a mask around his eyes, he wore one over the lower half of his face, and only left his eyes exposed. But his eyes looked different enough. The sclera was a toxic green instead of white, and his pupils were slit. Thick black eyeliner traced the eyes and framed them, making the color pop. His hair was a complete disaster and stood up in every direction.

Finally, the ears. They were real, genuine cat ears. Complete with fur.

“Not too shabby, if I say so. Though, the first guys that wore this had black hair, which made the ears less jarring. But I can’t complain. We mustn’t leave our lady waiting!”

Plagg threw open the window and leapt into the city.

He rushed over the rooftops, doing impossible feats of parkour and agility. It actually made Adrien dizzy.

“Oh, one other thing I forgot to mention,” Plagg said aloud. “You know how when you’re in the suit, you can be body slammed into a building and be okay afterwards?”

Yeah?

“Well...you’re going to feel all that pain instead. That’s why I’m always so wiped after a fight.”

What?!

Plagg glanced at his baton, the screen looking more like parchment than the usual LED screen, and found where Ladybug was.

A hop skip and a jump, he landed next to her. “What are we up against?”

She didn’t look at him, eyes glued to the akuma. “Stretchy guy. Like Mr. Fantastic. Can’t figure out what ticked him off, but he’s able to reach anything and even shape shift. Might be difficult to fight.” Then she finally looked at him and her eyes bulged. “Chat? What’s with your suit?”

“Plagg’s having a hard time right now, so I’m factory default.”

“O...Kay...are you going to be okay fighting like that?”

“It feels fine, my Lady. Nothing to worry about. In fact, do you mind if I take the lead on this one? Give you a little break?”

She chuckled. “You know I could always use a break.”

“Great! We need to lead him over to the construction site over at Notre Dame, where all the scaffolding are.”

She smiled at him. “I think I know what you’re planning, Kitty. Lead the way.”

He dropped the bottom part of his mask, and wolf whistled quickly, before Ladybug could place his face. “Hey stretch!” He shouted. “You up for a little race?”

“Ladybug and Chat Noir! You’ll give me your Miraculous as soon as I reach you!”

“Good luck with that!” And he vaulted backwards on to the street and darted towards Notre Dame.

Plagg was fast. Faster than Chat Noir normally was, and Ladybug was surprised at how hard it was to keep up with him.

“H-Hey Chat! Don’t leave me behind!”

He only stopped a second to scoop her up into his arms before running off again. Her added weight didn’t even slow him down.

“Sorry, Bug. The Akuma has long legs, so he’s faster than usual. I can’t slow down, so hang on!”

She did, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

Adrien was going to kill Plagg if he didn’t die from ecstasy first. He could feel Ladybug pressed tightly against him, and he loved every bouncing second of it.

Soon they reached the construction site, with the Akuma hot on their tail.

“Split up,” Plagg commanded and Ladybug gave a firm nod, following right along with him.

While Adrien was basically on autopilot, he noted that this fight felt a lot like being on the jungle gym when he was a kid. He swung on the bars, twisting up levels onto the scaffolding, the akuma chasing after with each turn.

Except, the akuma was long, and he was starting to get tangled in all the bars.

“Oh no!” Ladybug feigned a cry. “I’m stuck! He might be able to get my Miraculous!”

“You’re mine!” Called the akuma, twisting around a pole and darting for her. As he was about to snag her, she dropped and spun on her bent knees away.

“Whoops, not so stuck after all!”

“I’m going to—“ The akuma reached out their arm, stretching and stretching to grab at her ears. But he never reached her. He was out of length, and hopelessly tangled in the mass of wood and metal. “No! No!” He wriggled, trying to untie himself, but Plagg had already found the akumatized item in the akuma’s back pocket. A roll of measuring tape.

“Akuma, coming in hot!” He called, as he smashed the tape.

The black butterfly emerged, and Ladybug caught it and purified it easily. “Bye bye little butterfly!”

One cure later, the relative damage done to the scaffoldings was repaired, and the akuma victim, a short man, was returned to ground level.

“Wow! We didn’t even have to use our powers today! Great work, kitty!” She praised as he raised her fist.

He bumped her back with a grin. “Thank you, Bug. Hope you didn’t mind me taking charge. I just figured with you being the guardian and all, having some shared responsibility would really help you out.”

She exhaled with a breath, her shoulders relaxing. “Ugh, you have no idea. When that akuma alert went off, I was already dreading it. It’s been a long day.”

Plagg frowned. “A long day?” Even after their shopping spree and awesome lunch? “Do you need to talk about it?”

She ground her toes on the roof of the church. “Are you busy? Plagg said you were doing something…”

“Oh, I was napping. I have all the time in the world for you, Ladybug.”

“Want to get some ice cream, then?”

“Only if you let me pay.”

She dramatically put a hand to her forehead, “oh, if you must!”

Plagg chuckled with her, and then took off running.

“Hey! I never said it was a race!” She called back.

“You never said it wasn’t either!” He shouted back.

When she finally located Andre’s ice cream cart, he was already sitting and waiting with her order. “Your ice cream, my lady?”

“You’re so fast! Have you just been holding out on me all this time?!” She huffed, taking the cone from him.

He shrugged. “Oh, I have a couple of tricks up my sleeves.”

They enjoyed their ice cream in comfortable silence for a while, before Ladybug asked, “hey, you’re a boy, right?”

“Last I checked.”

She shook her head at her dumb question. “Right. Um…I have a friend. Guy friend.”

Plagg crossed his legs. “OoooOOoooo is it him?”

Ladybug blushed. “Yes.”

“Tell me everything.”

Inside his head, Adrien started to panic. This could only end badly for them!

“Well today…he was acting really weird. Usually, he’s really nice and reserved and polite…I know he can be silly and rambunctious, but…today, he was larger than life. He took us out for an expensive lunch, and then shopping for clothes that would make his dad angry. I think it’s a rebellious streak, but my gal friend said his money has gone to his head…” She scuffed her foot on the floor. “I’m just worried. I don’t want him to change…but I don’t want him to fake being someone he’s not just to make others happy. I guess I’m just confused. What do you think?”

Plagg finished his cone in one gulp, hiding his face right after. “I think it’s just puberty.”

She did not think that was amusing. “Yeah right.”

“Has handsome rich boy ever shown signs of materialistic superiority?”

“No, he wears the same clothes all the time, and never flaunts the things he owns—“

“Then I think your gal pal is off base. It probably is rebellion. Just…be a safe place for him, and I’m sure it’ll end up okay.”

“A safe place? What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure what this dude is rebelling for. You’d probably know. Is his family…strict?”

“Very.”

“And controlling?”

“Extremely.”

“Okay, so if I was in his shoes, I’d want a friend that was trustworthy for me to confide in. Rebelling is liberating and exciting, but also extremely scary, because it’s risky. He needs to have someone to have his back in case things go south.” He massaged her shoulder. “And it would be best if that friend was soft and smelled nice.”

Ladybug smacked his shoulder. “When did you get so wise?”

“I hide a lot of wisdom under my ‘dumbass’ veneer.”

Ladybug cackled loudly, making Plagg smile and Adrien swoon.

“You can be a dumbass sometimes,” Ladybug admitted. “But you’re my dumbass.”

“Aww, thanks bug!” He grinned. “So, handsome rich boy is all that’s on your mind? I know identity clues have to be avoided and all, but I like knowing stuff that’s going on in your life. And I think I can manage another golden nugget of advice as well, if needed.”

Ladybug frowned, obviously something else cropping up in her mind. “Actually…there’s something I haven’t told you that I probably should have.”

“I’m all ears. I literally have four of them.” He twitched his cat ears.

She reached up and rubbed them, an affectionate look on her face as she felt the fur under her fingertips. “Not too long ago, I was expelled from school.”

“Ladybug is a bad student in her civilian life?” He joked.

“No! I’m not!” She damn-near cried. “Sorry, I just…ugh. I was framed. There’s this girl in my class that…she lies with every breath. I know she has a crush on my crush, but she’s lying and manipulating to get her way to him. She works with him now too.”

Plagg knew there was certainly more to the story than that, but he had to play dumb as Chat Noir. “Lying is bad and all, but it’s not really your problem, is it? She’ll get caught in her web eventually.”

“Argh, that’s what Ad—my boy said too. Take the high road. And it made sense, for what he knew about her at the time…but what he didn’t know was that she threatened me. Threatened to take all my friends and him away, just because I told her to stop lying.”

This was a shock to both kwami and holder. “She threatened you?”

“Yeah. And she went through with it. She got me expelled. Apparently, according to my boy, he sort of convinced her to double lie to get me un-expelled. She’s been quiet ever since, which has been a few weeks, but…she keeps staring at me. It’s unnerving.”

“I suppose it would be, with her track record.”

“I didn’t want you to find out about this, but I have to tell you. She’s almost gotten me akumatized, twice.”

Plagg slapped a hand over his mouth with a gasp.

Lila was a nuisance for Adrien, but she was a problem for Marinette. No, an imminent threat. This changed his attack strategy…though it started to look like Adrien’s three problems were weaved together. The whole situation was a little more delicate than he had considered at first.

“I’ve beaten both akumas off, but I worry about the future. I’m trying to come up with a contingency plan, but for right now it’s just ‘don’t get upset’.”

“I’ll try to come up with a plan too. Maybe next time, you could hand your earrings off to Tikki for a little while, if things start to get dicey. She can bring them to me, since she knows who I am.”

Ladybug gnawed at her lip. “Tikki’s been my greatest ally in fighting them off. If she’s not there…”

Plagg rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Bug, you’re the practical one here. What happens when you don’t give Tikki your earrings, and you don’t fight it off? When you’re so consumed with pain you don’t even see the Akuma coming? What then?”

She shook her head. “You’re so right, I hate it.” She sighed. “That happened the last time too…I was only spared because Hawkmoth suddenly stopped his attack. That was the day I got expelled.”

“And I’ll follow the plan too. I haven’t gotten akumatized or anything, but it might only be a matter of time.”

“Yeah…” It was awful to think about. Having to fight her partner was not something that Marinette wanted to do. But this loose plan was better than no plan. “Hey, it’s getting pretty late. I have a project I have to finish up.”

“Oh, of course, go on home.” Plagg insisted.

“Thanks for the Ice Cream, and for lending an ear. You’re the best, Kitty.”

Plagg smiled at her, though she couldn’t see through his mask. His eyes crinkled in mirth. “I try.”

“Tell Plagg I still have that cheese danish if he wants it. Night, Chat.”

“Night, Bug.”

And she swung off into the distance.

Plagg took out his baton and made his own way home. He knew Adrien didn’t really want to be transformed any longer than he had to be.

He landed inside the mansion, and called, “Claws in.”

Adrien came flying out of the ring, and Plagg caught him carefully in his hands. “How you feeling, kiddo?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” said Adrien, weakly. “You didn’t even use my power, why am I so tired?”

“How much cheese did you eat today?”

“None.” Adrien scrunched up his nose. “Come to think of it, I didn’t eat anything today.”

“That would certainly do it.” Plagg said, with a sigh. He took out a wheel of camembert and took out a wedge for Adrien, holding it in front of his face.

Normally, Adrien couldn’t stand the smell. It was putrid and foul and moldy…but this…this was on a different level. Curse Plagg’s disgusting body! He sat up and helped himself to a nibble of cheese. A nibble turned into a bite, and a bite turned into a full inhale, almost taking off his fingers.

“Better?”

Adrien sighed as his energy started to return. “Remind never to complain about your eating habits.”

Plagg grinned. “Oh it's a deal!”

Adrien’s phone rang, and Plagg reached to answer.

“Who is it?” Asked Adrien.

“It’s Marineeeeeeetteeeee~!” Plagg sang, and connected the call, putting it on speaker for Adrien to hear.

“Hey Pooh Bear.”

“H-hey uh, Tigger? No no that was dumb. Sorry, hi Adrien.”

Plagg and Adrien shared a look of fondness. She was just too cute sometimes.

“Whats up?” Pried Plagg.

“Uh, not-not much! I just finished your second shirt! I can do more tomorrow, but for now…”

“I’ve got an outfit picked out for tomorrow, don’t worry. And you’ll love it.”

“Will I really? Or will it turn me into a pillar of salt?”

“Have a little faith in me, Mari.”

“I—of course. Did you just call me Mari?”

“Yeah, I thought it was about time I gave you a nickname. Is that okay? Or are you okay with Pooh Bear?”

Marinette’s giggle was adorable, as it was filled with thinly veiled embarrassment. “Call me whatever you like! I don’t mind!”

“Great! What’s my nickname?”

“I don’t know? Do you want one?”

“Only from you, Pooh Bear!” He sang.

“Um…I’ll have to think about it. I think I’ve heard Lila and Chloe both call you ‘Adri’, so I’ll try to come up with something else.”

“I appreciate that.” Plagg said, as Adrien smiled fondly at the phone. It sure was considerate of her to think about that.

“And Adrien?” Her tone conveyed so much. So much more than Adrien could understand. But it brought a warmth to his face.

“Yes?”

“I’m here for you. You know that, right? Whatever you need. An ear, a h-h-hug. Whatever. I…I care about you.”

Adrien wiped a paw under his eyes, fully prepared for tears to take him.

“I care about you too,” Plagg said, not faking the genuine appreciation in his voice. “I appreciate everything you do for me.”

“I-…” She trailed off, and Adrien wondered if she was going to say something else. But instead, she just exhaled and said. “It’s getting kind of late. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course, Pooh Bear!”

She laughed. “Thanks Adrien, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” And he ended the call.

“She took your advice.” Adrien noted.

“She took Chat Noir’s advice. She trusts him after all.”

Adrien sat on the desk, still feeling a storm brewing inside of him. He was still upset about Plagg’s behavior with his father…but he was starting to come around. Marinette never called him, and her conversations with him were never so easy. Was this actually working?

“Adrien,” Plagg started, scratching between his ears. “I’m sorry for hurting you. If there was a way to humble your father without hurting you in the process, I’d do it…but right now…”

“I understand, Plagg.” Adrien said with a hopeful smile. “It sucks but…that Chloe-tantrum you threw was really funny.”

Plagg beamed at him.

“And,” Adrien added. “After hearing the whole truth about Lila, I’m fully on board with whatever you want to do to her.”

“Fully?”

“Absolutely. This bitch needs to go.”

The mansion was nearly silent in the night, so Plagg’s evil cackle echoed and echoed, sending goosebumps down the neighbor’s spines.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #adrienette #adrien and plagg #I'll handle this #fanfiction #ladybug

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers (DT17 Season 2 Retrospective): The Most Dangerous Game Night! (Paid for by WeirdKev27)

Welcome all you happy people! As some of you will recall I do a lot of duck based retrospectives on this blog: Ride of the Three Cablleros! which took a look at all the Cabs major American adventures, Shadow Into Light, my Weblena colored look at Lena Sabrewing’s journey from abused teenager to magical protector, and the Della arc which I dind’t give a cool name but covered since Shadow Into Light read right into it’s final chapter and ended up perfectly synching up with the final month of the series. And of course i’m still working my way through the life and times of Scrooge McDuck with a plan to finish the main story in September barring any delays, sickness that sorta thing.

So it shouldn’t be at all a shock that having covered all of season 3 when it came out and covered the two season 1 arcs i’d be taking a look at Season 2′s three story arcs. So I probably would’ve covered them anyway.. but Kev, one of my patreons and the guy who commissioned Shadow Into Light AND Ride of the Three Cablleros, had expressed interest in doing the Glomgold arc from season 2 as it centers around his favorite character, Zan Owlson. He also wanted to do Della’s arc in time for mothers day, and was all too happy to combine both, and politely agreed to my request to do the Louie arc as well. To help soften the blow, I also suggested since he’s a patreon of mine on patreon.com/popculturebuffet he use his second review (You get one guaranteed review a month with 5 and he’s a 10 dollar backer so he gets two, and he’s earmarked marked one for House of Mouse through the end of the year) to help soften the blow a bit, which means some weeks i’ll be doubling up on this one. He agreed and it’s thanks to him that all of this happened so thanks bud. It’s also thanks to him I have money in the first place and I wouldn’t be here without him.

As for why I insisted on the Louie arc it wasn’t out of greed but out of pragmatism. I covered the Della arc purely on my own time, and gladly did so. But back then I also kept making the mistake of shoving retrospectives back again and again and again and that’s why there’s a rather nasty gap in my New X-Men retrospective I think severely harmed it , and a similar one for life and times which wounded it. I don’t mind taking smaller gaps of say a month when needed, but I learned from the experience I can’t just delay things constantly out of convince and expect it to work.

Not only that but the Lena and Della arcs only interact in the very last part. With these arc? While they don’t really touch at first and run parallel much like season 1′s arcs did, they start intersecting heavily as soon as Della gets back. Raiders of the Doomsday Vault! touches on both Della’s recent return and Glomgold’s bet with Scrooge, Happy Birthday Doofus Drake! has the A-Plot centered around Louie’s plot and the B-Plot centered around Della bonding with Huey as part of hers. And the final four is one one long, sustained arc, finishing up all three in the process. So yeah it was a package deal and as such this will be my third largest retrospective at 17 parts including the prologue. (As i’ll also be covering Della’s four issues in the IDW Comic released back in season 1). For the record my largest will be my Tom Lucitor Retrospective as 24 (in part due to doing the eclipsa arc for the same reasons as Dellas), and ride of the three cablleros at 20 is in a close second. This is going to be a long ride that will take most of summer, so buckle up, get your Louie Inc signs, Glomgold’ posters to jump through and black licorice gum ready and join me won’t you under the cut as we start this fantastic adventure together.

We open season 2 with all but one of our heroes proudly posing as they enter a temple. Scrooge even has his treasure of the lost lamp outfit on. Louie.. just looks tired and bored. One of the things I love about these reviews is that I haven’t watched most of the episodes since they first aired. Sure i’ve revisited some of my favorites like Dangerous Chemistry and the 87 Cent Solution, but I haven’t really DONE a full died in wool episode by episode rewatch of the series. I’ve got SO MUCH I haven’t watched, haven’t rewatched and haven’t even started, that I really DON’T have the time for it outside of my job. So it is VERY nice to get a chance to do so once in a while with it.

As such knowing Louie’s real motive this episode it makes this scene hit diffrently. On first airing Ducktales was back after a short hiatus, our heroes are operating at full speed and daringly charting through a temple: Dewey and Webby have become tighter than ever and easily stop a pit trap and Scrooge and Huey easily solve an arrow puzzle. But while at first glance Louie is just fed up because as he puts it later “I’m just loveably lazy”, knowing he’s really just burnt out, scared he’s going to die or worse like he likely thinks his Mom did because he’s not good enough.. it’s really tearjerking. Here’s an 11 year old who at his core feels he doesn’t belong in his family and just wants a friggin break from the dangerous shit they do. It hits even harder as a fan of the venture bros but i’ll save that for later. Point is he’s telling Scrooge he’s burnt out.

So then this happens...

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It really is almost the exact same joke, but diffrent enough since for one, Family Guy’s is driven by the refrenece (And god how I miss how their refrence humor used to have an actual purpose), where as here it’s to set up something else and hints for later: Louie having parsed how most adventures to at this point. While Scrooge is right in pointing out how every adventure is unique.. Louie’s not wrong that there is a small pattern to it: The Whoah! , The “Wait, What?” and the Aggggh!. Scrooge scoffs.. but Louie is proven correct as Dewey Whoas, a mechanisim trggers (Wait what?”) And everyone screams as they run from a giant wheel.

Back at home though it’s even more apparent poor Louie is miserable while his family is just jazzed. I can’t BLAME THEM, but I can’t blame him either for being, tired, worn out and just wanting ONE minute where they aren’t adventuering. There are some nice touches though as Scrooge runs off and finds a map in the idol: We see Duckworth removing the Scrooge as a Prospector painting based on Carl Bark’s painting of him from the foyer and instead replacing it with the painting of Scrooge, Donald and Della. It’s a nice little acknowledgment of how things have changed.. from Scrooge being alone and running from a painful past to having accepted it and gone back to being a family man. We also get Beakley just casually picking up Louie to vacum.

In the Triplet’s room.. which by the way why do they all share one room? In universe I mean, I mean is it saving on the power bill or does scrooge have the other rooms filled. Only four bedrooms are occupied: the boys, webby’s , Beakly’s (Which we never see but implicitly exists), and Scrooge’s himself. While the mansion isn’t LIMITLESS, it has to have more rooms than that. Is the rest just storage?

Out of universe though I do get why and i’ts why I let this concept of sharing a room when you have enough for everyone in the first place slide: it allows the boys to interact more easily outside of adventures by having all three in the same location. This episode is a good example of that as it kicks off Louie’s plan admirably: Louie is burnt out while Huey is excited.. and in another hint of Louie’s true gift he casually notices part of Dewey’s woodchuck uniform he was looking after is undone, simply making a quip about a sewing patch. He gets the idea for a scheme from there: to finally get his break by convincing Huey he’s slipping and exploiting his brother’s tendency for manic episodes.. which as someone with those I highly don’t approve and is far and away one of the more questionable things Louie’s done. And this is in an arc that includes him nearly wiping out all of existence.

Still it gets Huey on board but Scrooge and the wonder twins are a harder sell. Dewey and Webby are so jazzed on frinedship their even speaking in unions “This Needs to stop!” “I’ve tried but they really do enjoy harmonizing”

Louie insists the adventuring is driving them apart and making them less close.. and while Scrooge insits it brings them closer together he ends up proving his point when Louie fakes not knowing which triplet is which.. and Scrooge GENUINELY struggles with which one’s Huey and Which ones Dewey. Dewey’s face is at the top of the page.. and utterly and completely priceless.

And while I thought it was the same impressive face from night on Kilmotor hill turns out, nerp their uniquely hilaroius

Same mood though. But I do love this callback: almost a YEAR later, and Scrooge STILL is like...

But while movie night and make your own pizza night, which i’m pleased as punch to find isn’t just something my family does, don’t do anything one thing does... GAME NIGHT. Cue a glorious minute of David Tennant goofily shouting Game Night to everyone in the mansion. Seriously getting him was one of the series masterstrokes. The man has only done a few roles in voicework but damn is he a natural. Not eveyrone can adapt to it this fast. While I love Walton Goggins, it clearly took him a few episodes of invincible to get really comfortable with it. It’s why I have such respect for Voice Actors in general: I’ts not an easy job, it takes a lot of skill, and it can be often thankless. It’s also why i’ve made a concentrated effort ot more know of them by voice simply because they’ve earned that much.

Anyways Beakly pops Louie’s bubble that htis is not going to be relaxing for a very obvious reason: Scrooge is relentless against his enmies and game night makes YOU the enemy. He quickly has them pair off into teams, taking Donald right off the bat.

We also get one of the best jokes in the entire series “If you loose your out of the will” “(Genuinely suprised) I was in the will?”

It’s almost entriely in Tony’s delivery there. The surprise is just perfectly delivered. It’s also oddly touching as despite a decade’s estrangement and Donald understandably thinking he wasn’t in it in anymore, Scrooge NEVER removed Donald from it . Sure he’s thretaning it over game night but he clearly takes this ungodly seriously. Duckworth leaves to go do ghost stuff.. which is code for make up a flimsy excuse to run the fuck away. To make matters worse she’s stuck with Launchpad as a partner. Louie is left with Huey and immieditly regrets sending his brother into a panicy spiral as he’s already set up a creepy scheduling board.

So i’m going to go ahead and cover the Webby and Dewey Plot, and the acompanying Donald and Scrooge antics now to save us some time. I’ll come back to it at the climax of Louie’s plot obviously and to the episodes credit the pacing is exceptional, weaving in and out of both plots , Louie struggling to keep the whole shrinking plot a secret and the rest of the families game night, excelently, it’s just with my brain i’ts harder to do that in a recap so...

Game Night: Crush Your Enmies and See Them Driven Before You Scrooge goes to the Conan of Sumeria/Melissa School of Game Nighting. Or in short...

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Why HASN’T there been a Conan musical? So he and Donald dominate the first round, Charades, with Scrooge easily guessing almost EVERYHTING Donald mimes. As Webby puts it “When you’ve been around donald for 30 years you get good at non-verbal commuincation”. Granted they have a commuincation breakdown that results in this magic.

So Webby understandably assumes that given their best friends and Scrooge and Donald, while reconciled, hate each other, that they have an advantage. She is wrong. Not the first time: she also assumed she and Lena were just friends. It happens. you get a few wrong everyone does. Instead we get a great bit of Dewey utterly failing to guess it’s Scrooge despite Webby being obvious because Dewey’s brain is a riddle for the ages.

Jenga dosen’t really go great for either so they go solo for SCROOGEPOLY. Because of COURSE Scrooge created monopoly in this version. I simletaniously love and hate how eveyr piece is a top hat. I love it because it’s a hilarously quick gag.. but also hate it because one of Monopoly’s biggest draws is having so many diffrent peices. I mean some like the sports car make sense but then you have a dog for some reason and an ironing board. I mean I love that dog, he’s a good boy but I don’t understand why he’s in this. If anyone knows the weird old timey reasoning for either of these let me know in the replies or my asks.

This isn’t bad stuff mind, it’s just not really deep in stuff for me to make fun of. Apart from Donald ending up in jail... again. At least it’s not as bad as say goblin jail or that time he had to carve pinocchio’s nose into a shiv to surivive whale jail.

Louie: “How Long Before That’s Not Enough?”

Okay I kid, the subplot is good.. but that’s th epotatoes.. this is the potatoes iwth cheese.. look I love meat but potatoes don’t get enough love. They just don’t and you can do all kinds of delicious things to them. It’s why a good third of side dishes at most restaurants are potato based.

But yeah rolling it back a bit Louie is confident that even with the this will be mildly relaxing.. then Gyro bursts in thorugh the double doors proudly announcing his invention and pries himself in, ignoring Louie’s desperate attempts to shut him out.

Gyro is.. different in this episode. He’s peppy and while he’s mildly condescnding to the Gyropludians, more no that in a second, he’s far more enthuastic and freindly to everyone else and less of the awkward ballbag he’d been last season and would be again this season.

This feels like an ATTEMPTED course correct. See a lot of people, if understandably didn’t like how Gyro was in season 1. Fan of the original him from the comics and show iddn’t like the nice, friendly weirdo suddenly being a sour, condesencindg weirdo. Me I was FINE with the change from unintentional mad scientist to intentional one... I just feel they overdid it on the asshole as season 1 went on. In The Great Dime Chase he’s fine, he’s egosticial, angry and kind of a pill.. but he also clearly cares for his creations, rightfully hates the board for constantly doubting him, and is frustrated his creations keep going rouge. It was a nice balance.

The balance got thrown off entirely however once Fenton entered the scene. The crew just leaned WAY to hard into hwo much of a shitweasel he was to fenton: giving him an office in the bathroom with a cool quip, trying to beat him up (even if his rage over Fenton’s dumbassery was warranted that was not), and finally trying to take the gizmoduck armor back not out of any real concerns but because he’s worried he’ll loose his job... his job iwth the man who freely tolerates his creations going insane and really dosen’t care about his own colateral let alone Gyro’s. It came off as disngenous and that he simply didn’t trust FENTON with it and wanted and excuse to take the armor Fenton had clearly earned. He also pit manny and bulb against each other for a job which just felt out of character even for him to possibly fire one of his children which felt horribly out of character. Toniing this down was a good thing.. I just feel they overcorrected. They tried making him the 80′s version with a slight ego here, and when that didn’t work they just downplayed him for the rest of the season. He’s still around, in fact we’ll be seeing him again soon enough, and he still gets some great jokes... he’s just not really focused on at all. But they managed to fix their fix in season 3: they did have Gyro be a dick to Fenton again but gave proper context, had him apologize and framed it less as a funny joke and more as him being abusive because he was abused himself and breaking the cycle. He also kept the supporting role but kept the shadiness in it, with the earpiece bit from “Louie’s Eleven” being a highlight.

Gyro has a new device that can pick up tiny sounds and has found a tiny civilization in the ducks house, dubbing them Gyropudlians because he apparnetly likes Gullivers Travels. I do not really know what that’s about, nor have I seen any of the movies. Not even the jack black one made on a dare to see if they could actually sell a movie on the concept “This old story but as a jack black comedy”. And it went horribly wrong because they actually did get it greenlit and someone out there actually watched it. Not me... and I watched the Wrong MIssy entirely of my own volition. I’m not immune from making eye staining mistakes. This just wasn’t one of them.

Gyro ends up getting shrunk down because he naturally attached a shrink ray to it because...

So Louie shrugs it off correctly figuring out the arc of that sort of story: Gyro becomes a god, he learns a life lesson that sort of thing. Also I do applaud them for making the lost tribe not horribly racist.. that is a hard line to walk. They just make them generic instead which.. still better than racist. “Not Racist” isn’t a very high bar to clear but given this version went out of it’s way to be inclusive while the original show.. what’s a good metaphor for this.. hrmmm... these rakes are all the racism in the original show i’ve encoungered so far and probably will in the future, and i’m sideshow bob.

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Eventually though the Gyropudlians decide to decalre war on the giants because unknowingly the Ducks have been destroying their civilizations time and time again.. mostly louie but donald clearly peed a civiliztion to death..and i’m not grasping at straws there he left the bathroom and the other two possiblities for the floating city are too horrible to comprehend. Or it was just the sink and i’m a bastard... i’m probably a bastard.

So they blast the shrink ray around the kitchen and get Launchpad, so now he’s a part of this cliche. Beakly finds them.. is highly supscious, and Huey’s lie is.. not convincing... but this gets her out of game night with her overcompeitive boss so she takes the out and gets the fuck out and is not seen for the rest of the episode.. probably for several days. Look she does a lot around the house no one’s going to question if she comes back after a mysteirous absence with someone elses blood on her apron and several thousnd ddollars in brazilian cocaine. The sweetest cocaine of all. Scrooge is just used to it by now.

Anyways things continue to escalate as The Gyropuldians, Launchpad and Gyro launch an assault on the tower of infinity, aka the jenga tower and knock it over. The Good news is launchpad surivives and we get a great bit of the brothers hugging then awkarly and half assedly explaning it to cover. the bad news is the Gyropudlians considered it an act of war and have trained some flies to man the microphone shrink ray dealie.

It’s here we get the best scene of the episode: Huey is naturally worried.. even more so after he sees Louie’s response to the unfolding chaos: Curling up in a fetal position and rocking back in forth muttering to himself this was supposed to be a fun night in. Huey finally has had enough of this and wants to knwo wha tthe hell this is all about, shooting down Louie attempting to deflect it with his usual lazy schtick. Even at his laziest he’d pride self preservation over doing nothing. This is something worse. And while Huey is furious his rage is coming out of concern. While Huey prides himself on his brain... he has the biggest heart of the three. He’s the most empathetic and the one most willing to reach out to the others when they need him. Not that hte others lack it, Dewey was the one to welcome Webby into the group the most after all, it’s just Huey displays it the most. So his anger comes off entirely as genuine worry at Louie acting out of character and trying to avoid doing what eveyrone else does. And his response.. is heartbreaking...

“BECAUSE I’MMom was great at adventuring, and she still got hurt. I'm only good at talking my way out of it. How long before that's not enough? NOT GOOD AT IT OKAY?!”

Bobby Monihan.. really dosen’t get enough credit for this show. When he gets to really do something big with Louie he goes for it and he uttelry dominates the scnee here. Danny Pudi is no slouch mind.. but Monihan REALLy gets to show what he can do. His reasoning for his worries is also just as well delivered and heartbreaking.

“Mom was great at adventuring, and she still got hurt. I'm only good at talking my way out of it. How long before that's not enough?“

It just.. stings a lot. To find that Louie’s exaustion wasn’t out of self intrest.. but just out of fear. That he won’t be good enough at best and that he’ll end up like his mom: lost or dead never to be seen again as far as he figures. As a third of this arc will bear out, tha’ts not even remotely true, but out of the three Louie is the most pragmatic so while he says hurt.. he thinks she’s dead. And if she, someone as capable as scrooge or as close as someone whose not him can be, could end up dead... he’s living on borrowed time.

This is where the Venture bros comparison really comes out to me... because they had a similar if more spread out storyline in season 5, with bookish brother Dean, Huey if he lacked autisim but gained 80 dozen more issues, found out he and his brother Hank, aka Dewey in his teens, were clones because his dad is really bad at keeping his sons alive because he’s also bad at everything else including science, parenting, being emotinally open, making a cocktail that isn’t a crime against nature, sex, and not treating hank like garbage, which should fall under shitty parenting but I love my empty headed boy.

So why bring this up? Well besides self indulgance because I love both shows iwth a signifgant portion of my heart and frank flat out admitted to being a venture bros fan, and having Beakly take some cues from Brock, I love the accidental parallels here: both are arcs about a boy adventuer coming to grips with their mortality. Both withdraw, both are heavily depressed and both feel there’s no real light at the end of the tunnel for htem anymore.

And both.. are drawn out of it the same way.. by a concerned brother pulling them out of their misery and self doubt:

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It’s the same here... Huey helps Louie through it, understanding how he feels.. and like Hank did for Dean, proving to Louie he’s not alone. He points out that yes Della did get hurt.. but it’s because she went in alone. He’s got his family.. they won’t let him get lost or die.. because their not alone. The reason they can do all this stuff is because their together. Their all amazing alone.. but together their unstoppable. And i’ts fine Louie’s afraid.. but he can’t let that fear kill everyone he cares about.

So our boys run upstairs, but are a second too late as the gyro pudlians shrink the other four down, and the duo’s attempt to grow them just makes one of the gyropudlians giant instead. With things at their grimmist.. Louie finds his TRUE talent, looks at the situation. and takes charge. In the span of two minutes he completely turns the tide: he has launchpad crash his way out, which he does by pure accident because of course he does he’s nature’s perfect Himbo. He next has Donald and scrooge take on some guards to give Dewey and Webby some room and has Huey take out the giant with his sewing. His final part is to have Dewey and Webby work their way up to the ray gun.. which is a probelma s both have lost all confidence due to realizing they have nothing in common and can’t fathom how their friends. Scrooge’s reply? Of course their not.. THEIR FAMILY. It was then that a thousand debbigail shippers cried out and were silenced... I know I was one of them. I couldn’t speak for about a minute. It was awful.

And yeah.. I had been shipping Dewey and Webby up to this point, but it was becoming increasingly obvious they were being treated like brother and sister and then this happened. And in hindsight i’m glad I jumepd the hell off as they turne dout ot be blood related so I dodged a bullet there an found better ships for both. So no harm no F.O.W.L. clone accidental incest.

Realizing this the two find their second wind and save the day. OUr heroes are restored and things are good.

The next day, Louie faces the music with Scrooge and is terrified, not helped by Scrooge being dead serious... but his worries are for naught. Scrooge instead only has one thing to say

“You saw all the angles”

Something the crew conciously did was have each of the kids mimic one of Scrooge’s tennants, something that was heavily implied before but made fully explicit here: Dewey is toughter than the toughies, Huey is Smarter than the smarties... and Louie is the oft forgotten Sharper than the sharpies. Scrooge even lampshades how that part of his motto is often left out. And of course as frank made clear post series, Webby made her way into the family Square.

But back to the sharpie thing, I like this because it defines what that truly means, as it often comes off as similar to the smartie bit hence i’ts exclusion: It’s the ablitliyt to think quickly, strategize, a strategic, critical mind that can come up with a gambit in an instant and use everyone to the best of their abillity. It’s why for an example, Scott Summers is one of my faviorite x-men. Because while his eye laser things are impressive it’s this kind of cleverness and tactical insight, seeing all the pieces on the board and easily manuvering them, friend and foe, that makes him so awesome. And as scrooge muses it could make Louie even richer than he is. And in a truly touching gesture, Scrooge gives Louie the idol, confident in his Nephew’s potetial. His mother reached hers... he only needs time. So with that Louie’s arc truly begins and he hangs a shingle on the triplets door. Louie inc is born.

Final Thoughts: This episode caught me by suprise: I remember it being decent.. but damn if it wasn’t amazing on the rewatch, with the knowledge of Louie’s weakness helping but really it’s just a funny, tightly paced half hour of television. It has great jokes, a great emtoinal arc and in general is jsut well.. great. I didn’t see this poteitial the first time because I was more hung up on fethry finally appearing, the cabs finally appearing.. all the things in the distance after this ep. But this ep is just damn good and I wish i’d put it on my best of list. Top shelf stuff.

Next time on Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers: The second arc starts up as FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD returns as an amensiac south african fisherman and it’s up to Webby and Louie to unravel his past to figure out why he’s acting like this and if this is another one of his insane schemes. We also meet Zan Owlson buisnesswoman of the year and person about to go through some undeserved shit at the hands of a stupid man. Later Today: We return to Amity Park for more Danny Phantom and meet his second most intresting enemy as an innocent fuckup turns a spoiled brat into one of most dangerous enemies. Also PUPPIES and Tucker being the worst.

Wednsday: We grab onto some more ducktales as Donald returns to Ducktales 87. And judging by the content warning so does racisim.

If you liked this review stop my patreon RIGHT HERE. Seriously please do: you’ll find exclusive reviews, and if you join you’ll get acess to my discord, get to pick a short for my shortstravganzas, and help me reach my strech goals. And at my next one at 20, just 5 dollars away, ALL READERS will get a darkwing duck review a month and reivews of the two ducktales movie as well as the Danny Phantom TV Movie the ultimate enemy!

See you at the next rainbow!

#ducktales #season 2 arcs #louie duck #huey duck #scrooge mcduck #dewey duck #webby vanderquack #donald duck #gyro gearloose #bentina beakley #launchpad mcquack #duckworth #the most dangerous game night!#della duck

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bestworstcase · 3 years

Note

Considering how much you love the saporian au, I have a I guess alternative pitch to ask about. In Rapunzel's Return, if it was revealed that Cass was Saporian instead and still goes through with crossing the line in canon. So when Rapunzel and the gang gets home, do you think the Saporian invasion fight would've gone differently with this new information brought to light for her, especially since Varian is working with them now? Do you have any input on this?

why yes i do

so to start. let’s skip back to like august/september of 2019, which is when the tts hyperfixation kicked in but before s3 started to air. at this point in time my thinking was:

the separatists are definitely coming back in some capacity because the series made a point of putting their symbol on the book in RDO, signaling that andrew was not a one time deal.

there’s a press release that says raps will encounter an old enemy when she returns to corona and while it might be varian, my money is on the separatists.

cassandra encountered zhan tiri behind the door in the shell house and learned or saw something that soured her pretty hard on corona

i have been theorizing that cass is saporian since the first time i watched under raps, like, a year ago

i have also been theorizing that zhan tiri is saporian since she was introduced, mainly because it’s fun and it ties two great antagonists together

if cass IS saporian, and the separatists ARE the threat awaiting rapunzel in corona, these two things are probably going to end up intertwining down the line in s3.

sigh. [puts on my clown shoes]

a big part of the appeal of saporian!cass to my mind is that it gives cassandra an excellent reason, completely unrelated to rapunzel, to return to corona after she takes the moonstone. right? in my head, before s3 aired, my theory was kinda: zhan tiri got into her head and drew a connection between cassandra’s individual feelings of being neglected/overlooked/treated unfairly, and the systemic problem of saporians being oppressed/cast aside/treated unfairly.

and cass wants so badly to be a hero. she wants to be admired. she wants to be a protagonist, basically, and if cass is saporian that positions her perfectly to become the hero of the saporian separatist movement after she takes the moonstone. it fits so well!

so if, beyond just cass being saporian, this were the direction the series had gone with cass being saporian—and taking into account that this is a disney princess show and it is going to be pro-monarchy at the end of the day, and trying to stay within those bounds—i kind of imagine it playing out like this:

1) cass takes the moonstone and angrily lashes out at rapunzel, telling her about what zhan tiri told her in the HOYT (which boils down to ranting about how saporians in general and cass in particular are treated badly and she’s not going to take it anymore and this is my destiny, rapunzel). then she leaves, with CtL going exactly as it does in canon.

2) reeling, rapunzel returns home—only to find that it has been taken over by saporian separatists. talk about a punch in the gut! and then to make matters worse, varian is working with them. i think “rapunzel’s return” can still end with victory over the separatists in this version, but the separatists aren’t imprisoned at the end—they escape, swearing that it isn’t over. [the conflict itself plays out similarly, except for preference the separatists aren’t trying to glass corona, they’re just trying to stay in charge / drive team corona out. this allows for escalation later with zhan tiri and also doesn’t paint. people fighting back against their oppressors as pure evil,]

2a) varian and rapunzel still have their emotional conversation and sort-of apologies, but! varian doesn’t turn against the separatists yet, and when they escape, he goes with them. however, fundamentally their cause isn’t personal to him, and he’s now all conflicted because rapunzel doesn’t hate his guts like he’s been telling himself she must.

3) rapunzel frees quirin from the amber despite varian’s continuing betrayal, because it’s the right thing to do and also because she’s desperate for SOME sort of victory after all this. varian doesn’t find out about this until after his redemption.

4) the separatists continue to cause problems in B-plots throughout the first half of the season. someone (probably eugene?) tries to broach the subject of cass with rapunzel in the context of cass potentially joining the separatists and throwing the power of the moonstone behind their cause. rapunzel brushes this off on the grounds that no matter what cass is still her best friend. meanwhile we keep getting cass stingers, with cass struggling to control the rocks and zhan tiri helping her, except instead of driving her into rages at rapunzel, she’s focused on radicalizing cass to the separatist cause (although she does not spell this out at first).

5) BVA kicks off with zhan tiri dropping the bomb that she wants cass to join the separatists. cass is shocked (she knows how extreme and violent they are—and she’s not like that, is she? she hasn’t hurt anyone!), which triggers the burst of red rocks.

5a) in corona, the red rocks cause varian to have horrific visions of his father/all of corona trapped in amber, confronting him with his own guilt. he’s been sticking with the separatists mostly out of fear of being rejected if he tries to return to corona now—after all, rapunzel gave him another chance, and he threw it back in her face. but the visions are too much for him, and after he sees that they’re capable of petrifying people, he rushes straight to corona, sneaking in through the tunnels to warn rapunzel. she decides to trust him again, and they set off to the demanitus chamber to stop the red rocks a la canon.

5b) as varian and rapunzel emerge and see that their efforts paid off, rapunzel assures him that she’ll make sure everyone hears how he put himself in danger to warn them, and how he saved the day... and as varian is thanking her, he hears a very quiet “...son?” from behind them. he turns around, unable to believe his ears. it’s his dad. his dad is free. for a second he’s terrified this is some sort of lingering effect of the rocks but rapunzel explains that she found an incantation that she used to free quirin, and there is a BIG EMOTIONAL MOMENT as he reunites with his dad. because varian realizes quirin must know everything he did after his dad was trapped in the amber, and he’s so afraid his dad will be ashamed of him, but quirin is just like. no, son, you may have gone to a very dark place but you found your way back all by yourself, and you did the right thing, and i’m so proud of you. tears, and so on.

5c) BVA ends with cassandra and zhan tiri, rather than eugene and rapunzel, debriefing. cass reveals that she felt rapunzel’s fear of her during their moment of connection, and she is upset because even though cass hasn’t done anything, rapunzel seems to see cass as just as violent and dangerous as the separatists are, perhaps even moreso. and zhan tiri comes in with “they’ve already written you off as a monster” and “what do you think forced the separatists to such extremes? they tried to be reasonable, and they were persecuted just as you have been” and “really, what do you have to lose?”

6) and that is how cass gets on board with zhan tiri’s joining the separatists plan. [if cass doesn’t already know at this point, i think this would be the part where zhan tiri mentions that she’s saporian, too]

7) then we hit pascal’s dragon, and this is the episode where rapunzel starts really considering what cass being saporian means, basically using LBB as a proxy for working out her feelings about cass and ultimately coming to a sort of hopeful conclusion that maybe... cass being saporian is important to her and maybe—just like the enraged dragons that destroyed nigel’s village—the separatists have valid reasons for their anger... but also that a peaceful resolution can be reached if rapunzel doesn’t let fear consume her.

8) islands apart, then, becomes a little more focused on rapunzel trying to get the whole story out of the captain; how did he end up with a saporian kid, what do the separatists want beyond blowing corona up [he’s the captain of the guard, he must have dossiers on these people], and most importantly, what options are there for compromise? fresh off her own commitment to meet cass halfway, the conflict between rapunzel and the captain vis a vis fountain cass can also be nice and sharp.

9) in cassandra’s revenge!!! we just scrap the entire eugene surprise birthday proposal subplot. the first half of the episode is cass cruising into the separatist camp in the woods with the moonstone and ghost!ziti. she and andrew are immediately at each others throats because both of them want to be in charge but cass ends up winning by dint of a) having a magical rock with enormous destructive power at her disposal, and b) having a clear plan. she steals the scroll to distract everyone while the separatists in to steal [insert magical saporian artifact macguffin here] from the palace vaults, with the intention of using it to free zhan tiri.

10) cass’s part of CR goes very similarly to how it does in canon: team corona turns up to rescue varian, rapunzel tries to talk to cass about finding a viable compromise on the saporian issue, and cass, not wanting to hear it, goes berserk and attacks her. partly this is venting her very real personal anger at rapunzel (i like the idea of rapunzel reaching for her burnt hand being the thing that sets her off) and partly she’s just furious because rapunzel still doesn’t really get it. “nobody has to get hurt? saporians have already gotten hurt! i have already gotten hurt!” <- that kind of thing

10a) also!!! a “nothing left to lose” where varian is saying “i worked with the separatists and it wasn’t worth it!” and cass is saying “don’t you get it? i’m not like you, i don’t have other options, i’m saporian” would be sooooo goooood

11) in any case cass gets yeeted off the tower and injured, as in canon. team corona leaves. the separatists come back, find the tower in ruins and cassandra crawling back up from her ledge. they help her up, treat her injuries, and then reveal the bad news: the macguffin they were after, the one they need to free zhan tiri? it’s gone. corona sent it to the keeper of the spire for safe keeping.

12) race to the spire! is about cass and the separatists trying to retrieve the macguffin from the spire. and it is also about an extremely shaken rapunzel talking to xavier about all of this, realizing what the separatists were probably after when they broke in, freaking out (cass joining the separatists is one thing, but bringing zhan tiri back?!) and reluctantly turning to edmund and adira for help... because she thinks she knows where cass is going to go next.

12a) cue crazy cass + separatists + ghost ziti vs team corona + brotherhood battle at the spire. with all the canon insanity of the weird ass artifacts getting thrown into the mix. cass and the separatists win, possibly because ghost ziti advices cass to grab and threaten calliope to force rapunzel to cooperate and cass does it.

13) TOTS is now the freeing zhan tiri episode. and the gothel disciple backstory episode. because turns out! none of them really know how to do the actual jailbreak with the macguffin, so... they need gothel’s old research, from when she and the other disciples used the same artifact to free zhan tiri last time. rapunzel is in the cottage with a similar idea: she’s trying to learn more about the sundrop and its connection to the moonstone. loredumps, idk. maybe all this takes place in the ruins of the tower instead; i like the idea of gothel having a creepy little laboratory in the cellar or something.

14) rapunzel pleads with cass to think about what she’s doing. the separatists have a point—does zhan tiri? what is zhan tiri after, what’s her agenda, what is she, even? and it nearly works, she nearly gets through to cassandra, but then... cap shows up, and cass does not react well. cap is there to try to apologize for their last altercation, but she does NOT want to hear it and the whole situation escalates. team corona gets driven out of the valley, cass and the separatists do the ritual to release zhan tiri and wow things are really bad now aren’t they!!!

15) flynnposter... idk. cap recuses himself from the whole fighting cassandra thing because he cannot handle it and because everyone agrees he’ll be more effective at getting through to cass if he’s not showing up in the captain’s uniform, eugene gets put in charge... and zhan tiri is out to cause problems. i just think she should get an episode of zany hijinks all to herself. she deserves it. to keep the plot relevancy going let’s say she’s impersonating eugene-as-flynn because a) it’s funny and b) it masks her real agenda, which is, let’s say, wiping corona off the map, stealing the sundrop, and using it to plant/grow a new great tree on the ruins of the city. seems like a fitting vengeance against both demanitus (for banishing her) and rapunzel (for destroying the great tree), yes?

16) once a handmaiden. with zhan tiri now fully out and about cass has been sort of demoted to second in command and she is struggling with that, because it’s making the inferiority complex bubble up and bringing with it doubts that this is really the right thing to do, or even really what she wants. she slips away to clear her head, perhaps even using the cloak to disguise herself so she can wander around corona... and finds the nasty little magical traps zhan tiri planted earlier. she realizes that whatever zhan tiri has planned for the eclipse, it’s a lot worse than she’s letting on. (maybe some of this is connected to gothel’s research: gothel wanted to retrieve the sundrop from rapunzel, and cass recognizes ritual prep for that from gothel’s notes and is like. oh no.)

17) so... at a loss for what to do, she impulsively goes to rapunzel to try to... warn her? apologize? take her up on that offer to negotiate? cass is really not sure, and seeing herself in wanted posters and of course demonized in feldspar’s play does not. help. this part of the episode can go pretty similarly to canon, except that when cass is confronted by zhan tiri it’s a lot more cutting, with zhan tiri focusing how even now she feels like she needs to serve rapunzel at cost to herself, needling her about her lack of conviction etc etc, in addition to goading her with the news about project obsidian. cass angrily rejects her and goes to talk to rapunzel, publicly reveals herself on purpose because a) sometimes she’s not smart and b) striding onto the stage in the second act of feldspar’s terrible play to tell everyone in the audience that corona is in grave danger really seems like a good idea at the time and ziti is lying about project obsidian so everything will be fine right!!!!

18) everything is not fine

19) cass gets shot in the back with project obsidian courtesy of panicking guards and a teeny tiny bit of help from zhan tiri and, crushed by the realization that rapunzel must have authorized this, cass does the “no you know what? fuck you, i see all that talk about negotiation was just pretty words after all” thing and wrecks the place, while zhan tiri stands by watching like >:)

20) PLUS EST EN VOUS. im sorry anon this has gotten way longer than i thought it would. but i am Passionate About Saporian Cass. the situation is now dire! everyone in corona is hunkered down in old corona, frantically trying to draw up battle plans or like, any plans at all. corona itself is in ruins. it really looks like cass/the separatists have won... but rapunzel keeps thinking about how cass tried to warn them of some greater danger. she can’t give up on cass just yet.

21) so, desperate, rapunzel turns to the separatists. she takes... varian, because he knows them, and lance because he’s good at talking to people, and eugene, because she needs him with her. and she walks into the separatist camp and says look, i know that ultimately what you want is for saporia to be free to be its own country. that you only took over corona and tried to destroy it because you thought you had no other choice. and maybe under my dad’s rule, that was true. but i’m the queen now, and i can accept a declaration of saporian independence if i want to. so i’m going to do that right now, no strings attached. saporia is free.

22) and the saporians are like holy fucking shit

23) what brought this on???

24) rapunzel is like cassandra is my best friend. and i didn’t treat her well, and i made her feel like she couldn’t talk to me about how she was hurting, so she did all this. she’s angry and she’s right to be angry, but more importantly, she’s hurting and scared. and i want to make it right. and also i’m terrified that zhan tiri is going to hurt her, because she said something about zhan tiri going after the drops?

25) and like the best she’s hoping for here is for the separatists to drop out of the conflict and go build their kingdom back up again, but they huddle up and decide that a) cassandra is their friend / one of theirs, and if she’s in danger they’re gonna side with her over zhan tiri, and b) if they team up with rapunzel now and it turns out rapunzel was lying and this was all some elaborate set up to attack cass while she’s without allies, then they will be there to help cass hold the line

26) there are ABSOLUTELY NO MONKEY SHENANIGANS

27) cass sort of miserably is going along with zhan tiri’s plans but she’s also just kinda hoping rapunzel doesn’t show up for the eclipse.

28) rapunzel shows up for the eclipse with a bunch of separatists and cass is like rapunzel what the fuck

29) there is...an attempt by rapunzel/cass/the separatists to get everyone’s story straight which is interrupted by zhan tiri doing the “traitors to saporia pay with their lives” thing and just. going ballistic on the separatists and cass. and also rapunzel, except she needs rapunzel to not be smushed like a bug until after she retrieves the sundrop so she’s a little gentler.

30) cass and rapunzel team up to protect the separatists: with both of them using the full power of the drops, they can hold their own against zhan tiri (she is VERY POWERFUL and she PROVES IT during this fight by going toe to toe with both of them without breaking a sweat)... but things go from bad to worse when the eclipse hits, because the sundrop goes dormant, and zhan tiri pounces. gets the sundrop, and now it’s just cass trying to solo this demonic sorceress lady before the eclipse ends and zhan tiri gains the power of the sundrop. It Is Not Looking Great For Our Heroes.

31) zhan tiri stomps cass into the curb and is about to land the killing blow when the rest of the coronans + the brotherhood charge in (they were waiting on the mainland on rapunzel’s orders, not wanting to escalate the situation if it could be solved via talking, but it is now very obvious that rapunzel needs back up). zhan tiri deals with them pretty handily too, but her distraction is enough for rapunzel to shake off her depowered exhaustion/pain and help cass back to her feet.

32) raps, cass says, i’m so sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen, i just—

33) and rapunzel says, i know, it’s okay. i’m sorry too, for taking you for granted. i love you.

34) cass, tearing up, is like, i love you too. and i’m gonna stop this.

35) rapunzel is like ??? but there’s no more time because zhan tiri has finished smashing/immobilizing everyone else and cass is already charging at her, no longer trying to attack or defend, just get close enough.

36) as the eclipse comes to an end and the sundrop wakes up again, cass latches onto ziti, grabs the sundrop. and slams it against the moonstone still embedded in her chest. there’s a huge explosion, and when the dust clears... cass is in the epicenter, very dead, and there’s really nothing left of zhan tiri but a bunch of spasming vines and shadowy magic, burning slowly away in the brilliant light of the unified power. everyone else is pretty damn battered too.

37) horrified, rapunzel crawls out of the wreckage, grabs the unified drop. revives/heals everybody (except zhan tiri, rip), ending pretty much goes as it does in canon. except i like the idea of the epilogue / ending sequence of life after happily ever after (reprise) also being a montage of both corona and saporia being rebuilt, the countries now equals and allies... and also cass, when she leaves, is explicitly going out in search of saporians whose ancestors were displaced by the conquest, both to invite them to return to their ancestral home if they so choose and also to reconnect with her own heritage.

38) THE END!!!

#rta #W H E W ANON i got. i got carried away lKFLJKSDFJKLSDKJLF #anyway this is basically 'how i'd do s3 but saporian cass while trying to #color in the lines canon gave us and staying within the bounds of what feels plausible for a disney show'#Anonymous

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awhitehead17 · 4 years

Text

My Best Friend’s Brother

Jason & Tim, TimKon, Robin!Jason, Stray!Tim, Alternate Universe, Flirting, Humour, Teasing, Blushing, Friendship.

Summary: Jason thinks they could work together, it would certainly be an interesting dynamic with the way Tim gets all flustered around Kon, especially considering his persona is one of the most flirtatious ones out there. Making a decision he starts making plans on how he’s going to deal the obvious two way attraction that Stray and Superboy clearly have. It’s not going to be easy, but he’s Robin, he can handle it!

A/N: This is an AU where Jason is Robin and Tim is Stray. All you probably need to know is that Jason is with Tim's Titan's team, (he hasn't died), also that Jason and Kon are best friends. This is crossing off 'Villainous Crush' from my Batfam bingo card.

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

“I don’t think I can do that.” Robin says shaking his head as he stares at the security footage in front of him. “I mean I’m good, don’t get me wrong, but that is beyond my capabilities.”

“What do you propose then?” Wonder Girl questions him with a frown. “Who else is there that has the ability to bypass security as tight as Luthor’s undetected?”

Robin crosses his arms and gets thinking. The security they need to get pass is top level and the most advanced stuff Jason has ever seen. They’ve been able to hack into the cameras but that’s as far as they had manged, beyond that was just a dead end and none of them could do it.

What they need to do is access a hidden vault underneath Lexcorp because it’s storing away some crucial files full of delicate information. What that information is Jason wasn’t sure, however when Superman gave them the mission he made it quite clear that is was to be done asap.

One person soon comes into mind. This particular person could have the skill to get pass the security where they can’t, who would be able to sneak their way around everything without getting caught but was also skilful enough with technology that they could hack into the system if needs be.

He’d rather not ask them for help but really it’s the only option he can think of. With a sigh, Robin turns to Wonder Girl. “I know someone, so leave it to me. As much as I hate to admit it, they probably could get through the security and laugh about it at the end.”

She raises an eyebrow and demands, “Who?”

--------

“My, my little birdie, it’s been a long time! Did you miss me?”

Their voice comes out sounding rather distant from the phone’s speaker, almost like they were outside. Despite how quiet it sounded, there was no mistaking the teasing tone behind their words.

Jason sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, mentally counting down from 5 before responding. “It has been a long time Stray. I hope you’ve been keeping out of trouble.”

“Of course I haven’t! Who do you take me for?” Stray says with a disbelieving snort, like he couldn’t believe Jason just asked that question.

The present Titans were all gathered around the kitchen table with Jason’s phone in the centre of it, currently on speaker to the costumed vigilante called Stray. Jason glances at his team mates to see most of them raising eyebrows at Stray’s words, Cassie’s face was stony cold, like she absolutely loathed this idea. Jason wasn’t a fan either, but it’s all they got.

Jason knows who Stray really is, but his team doesn’t. Stray was Gotham born and bred, they met on the rooftops and bonded (Jason may or may not have become protective of him during that time, not that he could help it). They’ve stayed in touch and occasionally help one another out when needs be, hopefully Stray will be willing to help Jason on this occasion.

Before he could say anything more, Stray’s voice was coming through the speakers again, this time louder like he has stopped and actually put his phone to his ear to talk into. “I’m guessing this isn’t a pleasure call Robin, which is a shame. What do you want?”

“I – we, the Titans – need your help with something if you’re willing. Are you available in the next day or so?”

“Hmmm, it depends. I may be free to help you, that is saying if I even want to help you, however I may not be. What is it?”

Jason rubs a hand across his head feeling frustrated. Stray really isn’t making this easy. “By passing security in Lexcorp to get to a vault. We won’t be able to do it without triggering the alarms, you on the other hand may be able to. If you agree then I’ll meet you and share the deets, if not then it’ll be until next time.”

There’s a moment of silence, as if Stray is thinking through his options. After a few beats his voice comes through the phone again, “If I do agree to help you, what’s in it for me? Jewels or money? Perhaps some of that nice fancy tech Luthor happens to have laying around all the time? A date with my favourite birdie?”

Jason ignores his friend’s wide-eyed looks and focuses only on the phone, “We can discuss that afterwards. Are you in: Yes or no?”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Stray agrees sounding sort of resigned, “message me where you want to meet and I’ll be there. See you soon birdie!”

Jason doesn’t bother with a good-bye, he simply reaches over to grab the phone and hangs up. Still ignoring his friends expressions he tells them, “I’ll arrange a meeting with Stray for this evening and make a plan from there. I’ll keep all of you updated as I go.”

After that he leaves the kitchen and ignores the questions being fired at his back in favour of retreating to his room. He really hopes it wasn’t a mistake contacting Stray.

It was early next morning when he meets with Stray. They meet down by the San Francisco docks away from any cameras, any prying eyes and in complete privacy.

Jason stands waiting around with the trained patience that’s been drilled into him from his early days as Robin. That’s the only reason on why he wasn’t fidgeting or pacing with restlessness, unlike his companion who’s decided to tag along with him.

To his side Superboy paces a few feet backwards and forwards with boredom, sometimes he walks it and sometimes he floats it. Jason wants to be annoyed at him for it, but it was rather amusing to watch.

When Jason announced his meeting time with Stray, Superboy insisted on coming, stating that someone else should tag along just in case something happens. Jason had wanted to protest but the Kryptonian looked determined to come and he couldn’t remember the last time he and Kon had actually been alone together. Considering they’re supposed to be best friends, they don’t actually hang out a lot.

Kon lets out a huff and comes to stand by his side. The half-Kryptonian crosses his arms and looks around impatiently. “Where is he? He’s supposed to be here by now right?”

Just for his own amusement, Jason doesn’t bother pointing out that Stray has actually been around for the last 10 minutes, simply hiding in the shadows watching them. He’s surprised that Kon didn’t pick Stray up with his enhanced powers.

“You should come over sometime man,” Jason says conversationally instead. “It’s been a while.”

Kon’s scowling expression turns into something softer at the mention of hanging out, he sends Jason a smile, “That’ll be good yeah. I’ll have to kidnap you at some point and take you to the farm, Ma’s been asking about ya.”

Jason shoots him a small smile. He likes the farm and always enjoys visiting the Kent’s, a weekend away doesn’t sound too bad actually.

Deciding he’s had enough, Jason turns to a shadowed covered alley nearby. “Alright Stray, enough is enough, come on out. We have business to deal with.”

He ignores Kon’s squawk of surprise in favour of watching Stray saunter towards them. The vigilante was dressed in his full gear which consisted of a tight dark grey leather suit (which could easily rival Dick’s Nightwing spandex) from the neck to his legs, flexible black boots and gloves, a small black belt tied around his waist with a whip hanging loosely from it, on his head were two cat ears and sliver googles with black lenses covering his eyes.

He has no idea how Stray wears the suit, it contours every muscle he has and seems like its going to rip if he stretches just that little bit too much. It never does and Stray wears it without an inch of discomfort.

Stray walks up to them, and Jason certainly doesn’t miss the way he eyes Kon up and down, until he’s a couple feet away. He smiles widely, showing his teeth. “Hello boys. How’s it going?”

Under his domino mask, Jason rolls his eyes, pointedly ignoring the almost flirtatious tone being used. Next to him Kon was staring wide eyed at Stray, barely moving a muscle.

In that moment he knows something was up, this here was the start of something. With the way Stray had his head tilted just to the side so he could look at Superboy (Jason couldn’t see his eyes but he’s known Stray long enough to know his tell-tales) and the way Kon was openly staring without a care in the world.

Jason very loudly, and obnoxiously, clears his throat to gain their attention. “Matters to attend to thank you very much. Important files we need to steal before they land into the wrong hands. Remember that?”

They both turn and blink at him but otherwise don’t say anything. Rolling his eyes Jason digs through his utility belt and brings out a small electronic tablet which he presents to Stray.

“This is the security we need you to break past.” Robin tells him. “There's a vault at the end, we haven’t yet worked out what kind it is but chances are that you’ll probably know how to break it anyway. What do you think?”

Handing Stray the tablet seems to snap him out of whatever trance he had fallen into while staring at Superboy. He grabs the thing out of Robin’s hand and studies it. Jason patiently waits, knowing he’s studying the black and white security footage, going over what is visible to the eye before looking deeper and finding all the hidden secrets.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Stray declares handing the tablet back to him after a moment.

Jason raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? So you’ll do it?” He honestly hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

“Send me a copy of that footage and the details of the building, from there I should be able to get in and out. I can have the files you apparently need by sunset tomorrow, or today if you want to get technical.”

“What do you want for it?” Robin questions suspiciously. There’s always a catch somewhere.

There's a pauses as Stray looks Kon up and down once more before turning to him with a wicked smirk, “Keep it open as an IOU. Once I’ve decided I’ll let you know gorgeous.”

Without further words, Stray turns and disappears back into the shadows like he was never there in the first place. Jason takes a deep breath and shakes his head, that kid he swears…

The silence soon catches up to him and he shoots Kon a look. His best friend was still staring at the recently vacated spot. Jason waves a hand in front of his face. “Kon?”

Kon blinks and finally turns to him, as if coming back online. “That was Stray?”

“Yes, that was Stray. The annoying little brat I call my younger brother who I reluctantly asked for help because it boosts his ego like nothing else. Why, didn’t you know who he was?”

“Yeah, I, uh I-” Kon stutters for a moment as if looking for the right words. “I’ve heard of him but never seen him until now. That was him? How old is he? Is he even legal? Did you see those hips, jeeze… wait you said little brother, I didn’t know you had a younger brother!”

Putting the tablet back in his belt, Jason turns and starts walking away, heading back for the Tower since it was late. Kon rushes to meet his stride and together they walk.

“He’s a younger brother I never asked for, not by blood but in every other way that counts. We met on the streets in my early days as Robin, much to my annoyance I came to care for the little brat and here we are years later. We occasionally help one another out when needs be.”

Kon gapes at him for a moment before spluttering out a question. “What’s with the leather? I mean I get you bats and your spandex but leather? There’s no way that’s comfy, and with how much it shows…”

Jason scowls at his friend, feeling a little protective. “Don’t perve on Stray -”

“I’m not perving!”

“- he just likes to flirt. He gets kicks out of everyone around him being a blushing mess.”

What Jason doesn’t mention is that Stray is only that confident in the suit. Outside of being Stray, the kid behind the persona is nothing but shy, sweet and innocent (if a little annoying).

Kon seems to have nothing else to say after that, if he does he keeps any other thoughts to himself so the rest of the journey back to the Tower was quiet and uneventful.

The next day a small box parcel appears on the Tower’s doorstep. After scanning it and triple checking that it wasn’t any kind of bomb, they open it up to find the files they had been after from underneath Lexcorp. All that there was in the box beside the files, was a sticky note with a handwritten message on it saying: Remember birdie, IOU, I’ll let you know what I want gorgeous.

Upon reading that Jason sighs and shakes his head. He mentally curses out Stray for putting him in the awkward position of explaining to his team that no he and Stray were not in any kind of relationship and how Stray just likes to flirt with everyone.

Jason quickly explains why they’ve never met the vigilante before, that reason being because Stray was also a thief and can be unpredictable at times. Despite Jason’s brotherly relationship with the brat it’s still a risk to work with him, he never wanted to get Stray involved with the Titan’s from the beginning.

After some more questioning his teammates seem to eventually accept the explanation and leave the matter be. However, Kon wouldn’t let it go, he kept pestering Jason for more information. Did Jason know who he really was? What was his age? Why was he a thief? Would he want to join the Titan’s anyway? Was he single?

Jason glared at his friend for that question and refused to tell him anything.

--------

It turns out it wasn’t too long until Kon ended up meeting Stray again. A couple weeks after the Lexcorp mission, Kon decided to stop by Gotham to hang out with Jason only for them to come across a battered, bruised and bleeding vigilante later on.

Jason was on patrol when Kon found him, and not having the heart to tell his best friend to go away (who cares about Bruce’s no meta’s rule anyway?) he let Kon tag along for the rest of the night. Once they were finished the plan was to go back to the Manor to chill with some video games and some of Alfred’s delicious snacks.

It had been going well as they had stopped several muggings, a few drug deals, a couple of lurking johns and even a small gang war. It wasn’t until they were about to head home when their plans suddenly changed.

From where they had been in an alleyway, sudden gunshots could be heard from nearby. Not wasting a second, Kon lifts up off the ground, grabs Jason’s outstretched hand and flies them over the building into the alley on the other side.

They get their just in time to see a body fall backwards onto the ground and someone making a run for it at the entrance of the alley. Without even speaking, Jason instantly rushes over towards the fallen body while Kon goes after the runner.

To Jason’s surprise its Stray he finds lying there on the ground groaning with his hand pressed tightly against his shoulder.

Diving into his utility belt for medical resources, Jason hisses. “What the hell did you get yourself into Stray? You idiot.”

His voice seems to get Stray’s attention. The kid gives him a pained smile, “Just y’know, an average night. Fuck.” After a moment he seems to remember something because he’s bolting up into a sitting position and looking around frantically. “Where is he!”

Jason pushes Stray back down and keeps him still with a hand on his chest. Ignoring the weak struggles and protests, Jason examines what he can of Stray’s wound. He could see that the bullet is still in his shoulder but he can’t say if it’s hit anything vital. They’ll have to get him back to the cave for scans and proper treatment. In the meantime, Jason slaps a bandage over the wound and keeps pressure on it.

“Robin to the cave, anyone there?” He says into his comm.

While he waits for a response Superboy appears with an unconscious body in his hands, that being the man who had made a run for it moments ago.

“This is Agent A, Robin. How can I assist you?”

“I’m with Stray, he’s just taken a bullet to the shoulder and it’s still in there. I’m bringing him back to the cave, can you get the medical bay ready? ETA 10 minutes.”

After getting off the comms he turns to Superboy who’s body posture was awkward but his eyes were trained on Stray’s limp body. “Superboy.”

It takes a moment but Kon seems to snap out of the trance. “Huh? Sorry. The police are on their way, what shall I do with…” he gestures to the unconscious man still in his grasp.

Jason huffs as he quickly digs out a pair of handcuff from his belts and tosses them to Kon. “Tie him to the lamp post. I need your help with Stray.”

Kon does just that and reappears at his side seconds later. “We’re taking him to the cave, I want you to carry him there and keep pressure on that wound. The bullet’s still in there. Agent A will be there waiting for you.”

“I don’t wanna go to the cave… I’m fine….” Stray mutters from his position on the ground. His words are beginning to slur and his movements are sloppy.

Kon hesitates. “What about Batman?”

Jason waves his concern off. “Don’t worry, I can deal with him. Now go before anything else happens. I’ll meet you there in a bit.”

Jason makes it to the cave a lot later than what he would have liked. He had to wait around for the police, explain to them what had happened before he could finally start making his way home.

By the time he got the cave, Stray was already trying to leave and was arguing with Alfred about his condition, while Kon was standing to the side looking awkward and unsure on what to do. Stray was currently only dressed in the bottom half of his suit, leaving his torso and bandaged shoulder for everyone to see. Much to Jason’s surprise, he didn’t even have his ears or goggles on which helped conceal his identity.

As Jason walks from the garage to the medical bay, he observes the scene. It was rather amusing to watch the younger boy try to argue to Alfred why he’s fine and doesn’t have to stay the night to be observed and how he’s continued on with much worse. Stray is fighting a losing battle and they all know it.

Kon, on the other hand, was rather interesting to observe. The meta was standing in the medical bay but to the side, watching the scene before him with wide eyes. While the Kryptonian seemed to be in shock, Jason could also see how Kon’s eyes run over Stray’s body, the way they linger at his chest before moving up to stare at his identifiable face.

Jason is pretty sure Kon doesn’t know who Stray really is. He has made it clear that he’s attracted to Stray and is curious enough to want to know more about the thief but beyond that he’s never done anything about it. On the other side of the coin, he knows Stray is eyeing up Kon in a similar fashion. Behind the flirtiness, he’s a shy boy who wants to get to know Superboy more and secretly gets flustered at the thought of the meta.

Perhaps Jason needs to introduce them on a more solid and neutral ground? Stray is like a brother to Jason and Kon is his best friend, would they even work? Does he want to start something like that between them, or simply help them get their shit together so he doesn’t have to be stuck in the middle anymore?

He’ll have to have a think about it.

“You are staying the night and that is final!” Alfred declares firmly to Stray who was now pouting from his position on the medical bed.

Jason snorts as he enters the room and goes to Stray’s side. Poking the younger boy in the ribs, he says, “Look, it’s just for one night. We can hang out, have a good catch up while we play crappy video games and sleep until noon tomorrow. Then you can go.”

The glare he receives makes Jason cackle. Once he’s calmed down he glances at Alfred, “Thanks for patching him up Al!”

Alfred merely smiles and starts bustling about to get everything cleaned up. He turns to Stray next, pointing a finger at him, “I’ll see you upstairs in a moment. I’m just going to walk Superboy out of here.”

He turns to Kon to find his friend still staring at Stray. Rolling his eyes, Jason clicks his fingers in the meta’s face and grabs his attention. He cocks his head to the side and starts leaving the medical bay, “Let’s go lover boy!”

Kon stutters for a moment before rushing to catch up and he grins when he sees Kon’s flushed face. Jason walks with Kon to the end of the cave, thanking him for his help that night but also apologising that their plans to hang out weren’t happening. He does a rain check for when he’s next at the Tower and promises that they’ll spend time together while he’s there. Looking a little sullen, Kon nods his understanding but doesn’t push the matter. He takes off up in the air and quickly disappears into the night sky.

As he heads back, Jason starts making mental plans on how he’s going to deal the obvious two way attraction that Stray and Superboy clearly have. It’s not going to be easy, but he’s Robin, he can handle it!

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

“So what was it that you needed to do again?” Kon questions him as they climb a fourth set of stairs.

Jason glances over his shoulder from where he was ahead of Kon, guiding them through the apartment building they were currently in. “I got a message late last night from a friend, asking me to pick something up from his place. Figured I’d stop by while out with you since we were passing through the neighbourhood.”

“Makes sense.” Kon comments a moment later.

They don’t talk again until they were standing outside an old wooden, beaten door after climbing six flights of stairs. Jason knocks on the door and patiently waits for the occupant to open it up.

“This friend of yours,” Kon drawls looking at him, “are you guys close?”

Does he know about your night activities? Jason picks up the double meaning of the question. He smiles at Kon and says, “We’re actually really close, yeah. But sorry about this, it shouldn’t take too long.”

He doesn’t mention to Kon that in fact this was all planned by him. The message to come and collect something from his friend was planned, because Jason in fact purposely left said item here the other night just so he would get the message. Meeting up with Kon and having him come along just out of ‘coincidence’ was all part of it too.

A sound coming from the door opposite them gains their attention. They both turn to it as they hear locks clicking and a chain being rattled. Soon enough it opens up to reveal a small teenager dressed in an oversized hoddie and leggings.

“Hey Tim, how’s it going?” Jason asks with more enthusiasm than necessary.

It was like he was watching it all in slow motion, that moment when the kid opposite him realises exactly what Jason has done. His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open at the realisation of it before his expression becomes dark where his eyebrows drop, his eyes glaring daggers at Jason and his lips pressed into a tight thin line.

While Tim glares at him, and is probably imagining the most painful way he could kill Jason, Jason turns to Kon just in time to see his best friend also click onto what he’s done. Kon’s expression goes to one of shock as his eyes flicker between Tim and Jason.

“Wait, you’re uh, you’re-”

Kon doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying because Tim was suddenly hissing at Jason. “You asshole Jason!”

Tim backs away from the door and promptly goes to slam it shut and it’s only thanks to his quick reactions that Jason catches the door before it hits the doorframe. He barges his way into the apartment and turns to Tim grinning at him. Tim wasn’t paying attention however, the kid was now glaring at Kon who stared back and slowly inched his way into the apartment. Despite Kon being invulnerable and one of the most powerful people on the planet, he seemed rather intimated by Tim.

Once they were both indoors, Tim then slams the door shut with a loud bang. Crossing his arms over his chest he turns to Jason with a scowl. “What is the meaning of this? You of all people know how important identities are!”

Jason hums and starts wondering around the small apartment. He leaves the hallway they had been in and adventures into the joint living room and kitchen area. It was there on the coffee table that he sees the files he purposely left behind the other night.

Tim marches in behind him with Kon following soon after. “What the hell are Selina or Bruce going to say about this?”

That makes Jason blink and pause. He hadn’t thought about that. Oops. He shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s fine. I can work around them.”

“How? How are you going to get around one of the best thief’s and the world’s greatest detective?”

Jason doesn’t answer, mostly because he doesn’t actually know. Thankfully he’s saved from any more scolding from Tim because his best friend speaks up.

“So your name is Tim?” Kon suddenly asks from his spot by a sofa. The meta still had this wide-eyed look on him, like he really couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Yes.” Tim snaps at him. “You better not tell anybody either!”

Jason forces the smirk off his face as he sees the kid blush red. He knows this is about to get interesting and is more than happy to watch how this plays out between them.

“Really though? Tim? Tim is Stray, the cat thief who likes to wear skin-tight leather while on the job and oversized jumpers in his downtime.”

Tim’s glare hardens and it looks like he wants to deck Kon there and then.

“Just because you’re invulnerable doesn’t mean that I still can’t hurt you!” Tim threatens Kon, with a pointed finger to emphasise his point.

For someone who had been intimated by the person now threatening him, Kon now looks completely unperturbed. It was like learning his name was ‘Tim’ made him less terrifying. “Uh huh…” Kon hums looking at Tim with a raised eyebrow.

Tim enters Kon’s space and pokes him in the chest to make a point. “I will throttle you.”

“And I bet you’ll like that, wouldn’t you?” Kon grins, winking at Tim.

Jason couldn’t help but snort at Tim’s face. If his shocked expression in the hallway was golden, his shocked expression now was totally palatium. It’s like Kon flirting with him has made Tim freeze and buffer, like he doesn’t know how to handle it or what he should do next.

Tim was speechless and Jason laughs at the sight. However he does wonder where Kon suddenly found the confidence to flirt with Tim, especially since he seemed so unsure at the start. He knows Kon’s had his time with beach babes in Hawaii, but this is slightly different.

After several beats it seems like Tim finally comes back online because he’s suddenly shouting, “Get out, now. That’s it! Get out, the both of you!”

Jason was still laughing, even more so because Tim is now as bright as a tomato. “What, don’t like the tables being turned Timmy? Receiving the flirting and not giving it for a change?”

He didn’t even see Tim move, so when the kid is suddenly in his space and shoving his files into his hands, Jason stumbles backwards a couple steps to keep his balance. Seconds later hands start shoving him out towards the hallway and towards the front door.

“Get out!”

“Okay, okay,” Jason resigns. He’s had his fun and embarrassed Tim enough for one day. He walks out of the apartment and into the corridor of the building, seconds later Kon joins him. When the door slams shut behind Kon, they share a look and burst out laughing.

They don’t talk as they exit the building, both of them giggling right up until they’re out on the street and back out in public.

Kon takes a breath to control himself and shoots Jason a sideward glance as they walk down the street. “Dude, what was that all about?”

There were so many hidden questions within that one question. Jason picks them all up easily. Why did you blow his secret ID? Why did you take me there? What are you up to? He doesn’t answer any of them. Instead he snorts in disbelief and waves a hand around. “Oh please, I’ve done you both a favour.”

From there he refuses to answer any of Kon’s queries on what just happened. Things were building up between the two of them, Jason’s simply helping to jump start things along. After seeing them in there earlier, he thinks they could work, it would certainly be an interesting dynamic with the way Tim gets all flustered around Kon, especially considering his persona is one of the most flirtatious ones out there.

He’s got his own questions he wants to ask Kon, like where did that confidence suddenly come from? What happened to being intimidated by Tim? Before he starts grilling his best friend however, he figures he’d give Kon some time to mull over what happened today and then he’d pin him down to get some answers.

--------

Jason was done for the day. All he wanted to do in that moment was go to his room, have a long hot shower before changing into some comfy clothes and climbing into bed to sleep for the next three days.

But no, he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t allowed to do that because he had to go and find Kon, who was in the Tower somewhere, and get his report he failed to hand in after the latest mission. Cassie was getting on his back about Kon’s tardiness and it was getting on his nerves. Jason wants to argue that he’s not Kon’s babysitter! Why should it be him who has to chase the half-Kryptonian for reports he’s responsible for?

Either way he’s on his way to Kon’s room in the Tower, figuring that if Kon wasn’t in the kitchen (he wasn’t) then he would most likely be in his bedroom. When Jason reaches the right door, he taps his knuckles against it and lets himself in, he only happens to walk two steps in before he’s freezing on the spot because of what he’s seeing.

There on Kon’s bed were two figures in what seems to be an intimate position. Jason could see Kon on his back on the mattress (thank god he was fully clothed!) with his head propped up by some pillows. Above him with his legs on either side of Kon’s hips, was a familiar smaller figure dressed up in tight leather.

The two of them were currently playing tonsil hockey as hands roamed each other’s bodies. It wasn’t until a low moan comes from one of them that Jason comes back to himself and actually registers what he was seeing.

“What the fuck!”

The two figures startle at his outburst and split apart. Tim sits fully upright and looks his way while Kon blinks owlishly at him from his position on the bed. All three of them stare at one another for several long beats, waiting for someone to break the heavy silence.

In the end it was Jason, repeating his outburst. “What the fuck!”

“Oh hey birdie. Enjoying the show?” Tim smirks at him. He didn’t have his ears or goggles on meaning Jason could see his face. Meaning Jason could see how amusing this all was to him.

Kon on the other hand seemed to be on the other end of the scale. He brings his hands up to cover his face with embarrassment and groans. “This is not how I wanted you to find out!”

“Find out what?” Jason scoffs disbelievingly. “That you and Tim are finally boning?”

“Well technically we haven’t gotten that far, yet.” Tim drawls out, stroking a teasing finger along Kon’s chest.

“Right.” Jason says. Deciding that he’s seen enough, he starts to turn around so he could leave. “Well have fun, use protection and Kon, Cassie wants that report done asap.”

Just as he was about to shut the door, Tim speaks up and Jason shoots him an unimpressed look for making him stay longer than what was necessary. “Why are you acting like that? You wanted to get us together to begin with anyway. Did you want to join in?”

Jason blinks and takes a moment to comprehend what he’s just been asked. “No! What the fuck? That's my best friend there and you’re like my brother you flirtatious asshole! And yes I was trying to set you two up but that doesn’t mean I want to see it!”

Before anything else could happen Jason makes a quick exit. Unfortunately he still wasn’t quick enough because he hears Tim shout “You know where we are if you change your mind!” just before he shuts the door.

He shakes off what he just heard and tries to erase those images from his mind. He blames Cassie. If she didn’t want that stupid report then he would have never walked into Kon’s room and seen that. It could have been worse where they were naked but that’s not the point!

Well, he knew something was going to happen between the two of them and now they’ve finally gotten their shit together. Once Jason’s done getting over it, he’ll interrogate Kon all about it later on. They’re best friends, he deserves to know all the nitty gritty details and how dare he leave Jason in the dark.

Stray on the other hand wouldn’t actually tell him anything, either because of embarrassment or out of spite, it would depend on what mood he was in on the day.

It looks like he’ll be having quite interesting conversations with two people very soon.

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