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sundayswiththeilluminati · 3 years

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Continued from this post, Part 3 of my discussion of Essek Thelyss in the context of real-world espionage. This time: what happens to espionage assets in the long run? Do they break contact, and why? What might have been in store for Essek?

At the treaty meeting Essek tells Ludinus to his face that he wants no further contact with the Assembly, not even to learn what the Assembly discovers via their own beacon. He’s far from the first asset to try to sever their relationship, and it ends in one of three ways: they don’t manage to break contact, they break contact but voluntarily return, or (rarest of all) they end the relationship permanently.

Most attempts don’t go beyond option 1, because intelligence agencies are not in the business of respecting their assets’ choices. Handlers are skilled in keeping the upper hand in their asset relationships and will take any further opportunity to gain leverage by compromising the asset. For instance they’ll often pay for information even if the asset hasn’t requested it, because money changing hands makes it far harder for an asset to frame their activities positively to their own side if they attempt to confess (”You expect us to believe they were blackmailing you when you got $10,000 to hand over the secret manual?” etc.) And when push comes to shove most people aren’t willing to accept the severe punishments for espionage. An asset’s threat to confess is more likely a negotiating ploy than a serious option.

Some assets, especially nervous or ego-driven ones, get the carrot: the KGB did a strong line in awarding secret medals to convince them they were doing important, well-regarded work and that the KGB would protect them - not an empty reassurance, as highly-placed moles like Aldrich Ames warranted elaborate ops involving double and triple agents to avert suspicions. And some assets get the stick: the handler tightens the screws using whatever leverage they’ve gained, implies that they’re already “too far in to go back,” or gives some time for those who were blackmailed into spying to think about the consequences of exposure.[1]

Those who get as far as option two, breaking it off and later returning, are usually driven away by fear but back by finances. Fantasy spies have all sorts of motives but in real life the majority are in it for the money. Assets, as you might imagine, make bad choices. About half start selling secrets just to stave off massive debt from overspending and poor financial decisions (the rest feel underpaid.) So even if these assets stop temporarily, the circumstances that drove them to espionage in the first place are still very much present. In these cases all a handler has to do is shrug and say, “You know where to find us.” Infamous FBI mole Robert Hanssen broke off contact with his Russian handlers when the Soviet Union collapsed, fearing he might get outed in the chaos, but linked back up with them just 10 months later when, surprise surprise, he needed some cash.

And then there are the rare handful who stop completely. There’s a bit of survivor(?) bias here because anyone who passes along secrets, breaks off the relationship before being caught, and manages to get away with it is by definition someone we don’t know about. Those who do manage to break contact long-term are usually able to do so because they left the situation that gave them access to interesting secrets and therefore the controlling agency determined they were no longer a useful resource and not worth pursuing. But even if an asset stops working for an agency, they’re far from forgotten - and far from off the hook. Names and evidence of their espionage would be kept on file for potential use as blackmail, leverage in state-to-state negotiations, or expendable material to prove bona fides in ops involving fake defectors or triple agents. A surprising number of spies are caught/outed years after their espionage ended.

Very few assets permanently sever their espionage relationships the hard way: making a genuine confession and accepting punishment. But it’s not unheard-of, especially if the espionage was brief and the asset believes the damage can be repaired. In 1989 Army signals analyst Michael Peri disappeared from his post in West Germany along with a portable computer containing numerous classified documents. Eleven days later he returned to his previous post with the computer and voluntarily confessed to the theft and sort-of defection to East Germany. When interrogated, Peri - who had been a model soldier until that point - said he felt overworked and underappreciated by his superiors, though he couldn’t entirely explain his decisions either to leave or to return (a sexy female Russian agent might also have been involved). He received a 30-year sentence.

Marine Clayton Lonetree, a guard stationed at the US Embassy in Moscow in 1985, was blackmailed over an affair to hand over details on the embassy compound for a year, but his conscience finally got the better of him and he confessed in late 1986. Being a Marine he faced the very real prospect of death by firing squad, but the court martial ended up giving him a 30-year sentence. It was later reduced to 15 after the Marine Corps Commandant wrote a letter to the Navy Secretary on his behalf attributing the young Marine’s actions not to treason or greed but to loneliness, naivety, and poor judgement.[2]

Going back to Essek’s case, he’s already in the minority of espionage assets because he doesn’t want money in return for the secrets he passes along; though the knowledge the Assembly promises him in return fulfills a similar desire, Essek doesn’t need that knowledge to pay off the equivalent of debt or to maintain his lifestyle. He has no pressures at home that force him to continue spying. With the beacons returned, the fall guys in place, and their tracks seemingly covered, he tells Ludinus that all he wants is to be rid of the entire affair. That rules out option one (he sincerely means to cut the Assembly off) and option two (he won’t be driven back by need.)

Essek is also in an unusual position in that the worst of the damage he caused is repairable - just return the beacons.[3] A secret, once compromised, can’t be un-compromised. If an asset hands over a cipher machine they can’t fix the situation by stealing the cipher machine back; the foreign agency they sold it to has already studied the machine and learned its secrets, meaning it’s now effectively useless. But returning the beacons restores what the Kryn lost. While keeping dunamancy secret gives the Kryn a tactical edge, and I’m sure the Dynasty would prefer to keep the magical soulstones of their elite hidden from their long-time rival, the beacons don’t need to be secret to work. Essek therefore has a much better chance than most to simply repair the damage, cut off his handlers, and try to forget the whole affair ever happened. He might even think that, now that the Assembly has their own beacon, they’ll have no further use for him and will just leave him alone.

But from the Cerberus Assembly's perspective, this fruit still has plenty of juice in it and they risk nothing by continuing to squeeze. Now that they have their own beacon Essek’s knowledge becomes even more valuable. He has access to hundreds of years of dunamantic spellcrafting - and more importantly the rite of consecution, since the Assembly were probably after beacons in the first place to make themselves immortal. If Essek is caught, it’s treason for him, but the Assembly doesn’t suffer; they were doing it for the good of the Empire, learning about dunamancy to help the war effort. So if he refuses to keep spying voluntarily for the Assembly, they’ll just have to find another way to motivate him.

As part of evaluating Essek before recruitment, Assembly operatives would have noted that he’s, well, highly motivated to save his own skin. Ludinus’ goal therefore becomes to make Essek see further espionage as the only way to stay alive. So instead of confronting Essek then and there, Ludinus shrugs and goes, “Okay. Sure.” Then he activates the Volstruckers, maybe leaks a little info to the Dynasty about a traitor in their midst, and sets up Essek to stew in fear, feeling isolated and attacked from both sides - targeted by the Assembly for his defiance, under suspicion from the Dynasty, unable to ask for help because of his crimes. Ludinus sits back and waits for Essek to re-establish contact on his own. Of course Ludinus didn’t know that the M9 had confronted Essek and gotten him to confess, making a return to spying impossible even if he tried.

While Essek’s motives revolve around ego, frustration, and rebellion, his situation is more like those of people who end up defecting because they’re unable to pursue their careers or live as they want to back home. He has virtually no social/family ties to leave behind, no loyalty to Dynasty authority, and no religious fervor to defend the Luxon, while the Assembly promises him the company of like minds and free rein in his experiments. Assuming no intervention by the M9 I think Essek would have ended up defecting to the Cerberus Assembly. If he did it early enough in the story he might have even joined the Volstruckers to complete the narrative foil transformation.

If the crew had confronted him at the treaty but not offered mercy I think he would have defected purely out of fear, thinking the Assembly were the only people who could protect him from both the Dynasty and the M9. He was already on edge watching the guy he'd set up to take the fall getting walked away in chains and with the Assembly's Wind of Aeons ship right there it would be the ideal time to make the move. Assuming the treaty confrontation went as it did (the crew makes him confess but lets him live) but the M9 hadn’t shown up in Eiselcross, Essek would likely have fled the outpost and gone into hiding in a bid to outrun his crimes (and probably gotten caught two weeks later given how awful he was at being “Dezrain Thane.”)

Essek is far from the first recruited asset to regret what they did even as they kept doing it. Those who can sell out their nation and not feel even a pang of guilt are thankfully thin on the ground. Most start off doing what seems to be a favor for a friend - or accepting a favor from a friend who wants to help with their “financial difficulties” - and end up so deep they can’t see any way forward other than to keep handing over secrets. He’s one more in a long line of those who compromised information out of frustration, especially through the appeal to shared professional interests (that’s how industrial assets tend to be recruited.)

But he’s also in a much better place to make up for it than most assets. Since he primarily compromised property, not secrets, returning said property can (somewhat, mostly) repair the damage done, which goes a long way towards buying leniency from the powers that be. And now I’m realizing that this post actually needs one final part, which is: how do you try someone for espionage, and should you charge them with it in the first place?

[1] While spy dramas love sexy blackmail, and handlers will happily collect it to leverage against a balky asset, it works far less often in reality as a main reason for espionage. Social penalties for extramarital affairs pale before actual legal penalties like the death sentence for treason. On the other hand, those with foreign relatives are sometimes coerced by threats against those relatives.

[2] Lonetree’s case for leniency got a boost in 1994 when Aldrich Ames was finally caught and some serious breaches of embassy security that had been attributed to Lonetree were found to be Ames’ work instead. In 1996 Lonetree was released after having served 9 years total.

[3] Although I did just think of a really messed-up Cerberus Assembly plan: consecute a handful of completely loyal Volstruckers, kill them, and send the beacons back so said agents will be reborn in the Dynasty and work to undermine it from within. How fucked up would that be?? Campaign 3 plot hook anyone?

(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)

#Critical Role #Essek Thelyss #Critical Role spoilers #not really but just to be safe #CR meta #I guess #is that a thing people tag things with?#anyway let's talk about espionage!#I can't stop thinking about Volstrucker!Essek #jesus can you imagine that confrontation #Caleb staring him down? flanked by Astrid and Eadwulf?#then again I think Essek hates Trent in every timeline so #but still seriously #the narrative foils!#the foilssssssss #it's been a long pandemic

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cuddles-and-kisses · 3 years

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So The Cat's Out Of The Bag,,,

Another fanfic for Agapito (an OC that belongs to @yandereaffections) The story starts under the cut. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1,908 Trigger Warnings: Subtle yandereness, I can't think of any others

It’s 11 pm. I’ve been avoiding schoolwork all day and I’m in no rush to fix it. I've been writing fanfiction, of sorts, for the past 3 hours. On the bright side, the first draft is done! My back hurts from sitting so long while my butt hurts because I’ve sat on a wooden stool this long. I need to take a break but what to do? Oh, what to do? My weekly planner is wide open on a bookstand to my right. I could be productive, or I could keep avoiding them... So the planner is closed now. I’ve reorganized pens in a pen cup for the seventh time. Is there a limit to how many times a person can adjust a desk lamp before going insane? There has to be something else to do but what? As if on cue, my phone lights up with a text from my Baby. We’ve been official for 6 months so our dates are a lot more casual nowadays.

“Angel, I want attention. Unlock the back door” I’m aware it doesn’t seem like it but this is how he asks to come over. He won’t come over until I respond giving the green light. “Bold of you to assume I’m home and not partying at a random frat house” We both know I’m not doing jack at 11 pm on a Friday. Nonetheless, it’s fun to pretend I have a flourishing social life. “That’s cute. Back door please” Alright, now to get up and- ow, fuck, ouchie, ok, hold on. *POP* There we go!

I should probably pick my room up real quick. I made my bed earlier today so that’s not a problem. The svallerup rug from Ikea collects dirt a lot faster than I expected. Although would he really notice? It’s not bright in here. My dresser by the door looks fine. The futon is in couch mode, so there’s not much left I don’t have to clean up for him. In reality, I’m not cleaning for him, I just like having a clean room. The last thing I do is turn on the fairy lights above my head then light a vanilla candle. I know he’s coming over to cuddle or really do anything involving him getting affection. I might as well make my bedroom reflect that, right?

I half-jog upstairs to unlock our back door. Why the back door? It’s not because I love Jesus. Let me explain. The living room floor creaks way too loud. Also, my parent’s bedroom is right next to that door. The side door alerts our dogs to start pitching a fit. How can they hear it from the opposite side of our house? I may never be able to understand. Moonlight drifts halfway across the backroom. Sparse nightlights cover the remaining needed light. I flick on the backdoor lights followed by opening a few blinds to let more light in. Their orange glow overpowers the moonlight near the backdoor.

For whatever reason, the moon is far brighter tonight. Or my pupils are hella dilated because I’m thinking about my Baby. Either way, moonlight dusts over parts of the backroom and kitchen ahead of me. One last light to turn on. An LED light above our kitchen sink smashes through most surrounding darkness, making it almost impossible to see into the living room. White cabinets outline our kitchen. None of the cabinets match each other in this house. It’s as if this house was built in parts instead of planned out from the start. The counter is occupied with things you’d expect; a bread box, knife set, fruit basket, coffee pot, and an air fryer. Yet, there's evidence real people live here. Crumbs from a snack, mail by the fruit basket, half-empty coffee pot, as well as children’s toys forgotten all about

Everyone else is snuggled up in warm beds, sleeping. I can pick out each person’s snoring pattern when they poke through tonight’s ambiance. There are moments where quiet feels like serenity, others where it feels like emptiness. I can’t decide which one I’m feeling because I realize I’m about to have a visitor. A cup of coffee sounds like the perfect way to waste a few minutes while waiting for my lover.

Coffee cup out of the overhead cabinet. A coffee spoon from beside the coffee pot. Fake sugar off the shelves. Room temperature coffee in the pot from this morning. French vanilla coffee creamer out of the fridge. And just like that, a proper cup of coffee is served. Light reflects off the glossy coating painted over our pale coffee cups. Mom considers it a priority to have everything match or look cohesive. Appearing put together is a source of pride for her. A cup is a cup however matching cups make her happy. My ears perk up at hearing his tires pulling into the driveway. My coffee creamer swirls in the cup as he walks up the driveway. The coffee spoon clings against the inside of my coffee cup simultaneously with the creak of our back gate. All that’s left is to wash off this week’s coffee spoon then put it back. I have only a few more seconds until my Love is with me again. I’m a sappy and hopeful romantic for him, get off my back. He’s learned how to silently open the back door and if I didn’t have good peripheral vision, I would’ve yelped.

Intimate hands snake around my hips as a tender kiss is pressed against my neck. I can feel the tender smile tugging at his lips after the kiss, he had a really good day? His body is pressed against mine as he murmurs “Honey, I’m home~” behind my ear; earning a soft chuckle from me. I turn to face him, wrap my arms around his neck, and greet him with a deep kiss. This time on the lips. “Welcome home, my Love.” He’s so close to me, I can smell the cigarette he had on his way over here. The absence of alcohol or weed stench affirms he didn’t have a bad day at work. I can’t wait until these interactions become a daily occurrence. This man is breathtaking under normal circumstances; but, under the glimmer of moonlight,,, I can’t form a single thought while looking at him. The raw admiration and love this man holds in his eyes? Who could stand a chance against him? Not me. Wrong choice.

His hands linger along the sides of my hips. I hold his arms in an attempt to keep him close to me, just a little longer. “I brought you a few things. I’ll go set them on your desk.” He knows gifts aren’t my thing in spite of that he claims I deserve the entire universe. I breathed out, “Ok, I’ll be down in a minute,” then started moving to get my coffee cup, as well as a few snacks to bring downstairs. He starts heading downstairs content with how flustered I am. WAIT A FLUFFING MINUTE THE FANFICTION IS ABOUT HIM!! I whisper yell ‘Baby’ until his head pops back around the corner. I threaten him to not touch or look at my laptop. It was a pathetic attempt considering what he does for a living. In my defense, I tried. I forgot he’s in essence an overgrown teenager who will do the exact opposite of what he’s told. Wanna know what he does? Grin. I’m so fucked.

Agapito dashes downstairs and leaves me in unadulterated fear. I’m frozen in place, trying to come to terms with my fate as his footsteps fade. It’s not smut or anything, just a simple night and morning routine imagining that we lived together. This is going to be so embarrassing. Please spare me this treacherous fate and undying embarrassment. Deep breaths, just take deep breaths. Get your coffee then snacks then, simply, accept what’s just happened.

With arms full of snacks, I shut my bedroom door as gingerly as I can. Setting the cup on the dresser right by the door to make this a little easier. He’s standing at my computer, reading through the last page. Oh hey, he brought me Rolo’s as well as 3 Musketeers. Nice! Oh wait, he’s done reading. His shoulders aren’t tense; his breathing hasn’t changed; all the same, he’s just standing there. “Why did you write this out instead of doing it?” That’s a good question tbh. My Baby’s voice sounds hurt, despite that, he’s trying to hide it. Ok, he needs a hug. Now to throw the snack on the bed. He needs a rib-crushing hug and you bet your butt I’ll be the one to deliver. I tug at his elbow so he’ll face me then pull him into me. His shoulders are right under my chin when we’re facing each other. I bury my face in his neck while my arms hug him as tight as I can. Except why is he upset about this?

His love for me is nothing to scoff at. He loves me the same way he wanted to be loved when he was younger. We’ve figured out he’s catching up from his pre-teen years and onward. So about 13 years without a stable romantic relationship. When he was trying to court me I had to call him out all the time for manipulation. I know he’s terrified I’ll think he’s not good enough. He has episodes of frantic attempts to meet all of my needs, even if it’s not asked for or needed. What is going through his head? Does he feel like he’s not good enough? That he’s not loving me enough so I have to turn to a fictional version of him? Does he think he’s not good enough for me to do this stuff with him? None of those are true, obviously. I explicitly stated that in the story he just read. It doesn’t mean he won’t get stuck inside his head. I need to tell him the truth. Even if I wanted to lie, I couldn’t, he’s a finely-tuned human lie detector. One more deep breath. Squeeze him a little tighter. Look him in his eyes and come clean.

“The reason I didn’t just act these out is because, I didn’t know how to ask for it.” His expression shifts from confused hurt to understanding. I start rambling, “I want to have these experiences with you. I’d give anything to have that life with you but we've only been dating for 6 months and I just, wasn’t sure, how to phrase it.” I’m choking on my own pulse from emotions. I realize I was shifting my weight left to right when he pulls me in for another hug and kisses my forehead. We stand there in each other’s embrace for a few moments before he suggests I come to his house tomorrow night. We both know what he’s suggesting. I can’t help but adamantly agree. Excitement zips through my body thinking about tomorrow night. A smile pulls at my lips as I ask, “Do you mind if I wear this shirt tomorrow night?”

Tonight is about Netflix, snacks, and rediscovering the curves and contours of each other’s bodies. Though, not before I mess up his hair while calling him a butthead. It’s evident his insecurities are still tugging at him. Funny enough, his insecurities forgot they’re fighting against me for his attention.

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script-nef · 3 years

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So why won’t you realise it '^' | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

1.9k words; Movie date [2/6]

Spoilers of Howl’s Moving Castle!! Beware!!

← Previous chapter | Masterlist

“Eh, Shouko! What do you mean you can’t make it?”

“I mean, another person is about to come in and they need me to heal them. By the time I’m done the movie will be finished.” Shouko’s voice over the phone is laced with annoyance and sadness coupled with lethargy. You don’t know how she pulls off such a unique combination of emotions but she somehow accomplishes it every time. “And I was looking forward to it…”

This would have been the first time you had a break with her since the trip to France. And while she enjoyed it a lot, the same couldn’t be said for the two males. Which was weird since Gojou is infatuated with sweets and Ken-chan agreed to come. So it was kind of weird when there was a tense atmosphere between them. You know your brother and Gojou are nearly polar opposites, but their animosity wasn’t usually that strong.

They brushed it off as nothing when you asked if something was wrong, which was sort of dubious since you could kind of see the black cloud looming over the both of them, but you let it go. If it was something important, they would be able to handle it themselves or report it to you. You couldn’t sense any cursed spirits nearby so you guessed that they were just in a bad mood for some reason.

Still, you had a wonderful time and found some new snacks that everyone enjoyed. So a day well spent, all in all.

And Ken-chan told you to tell him if Gojou ever offers overseas trips or anything similar, so he must have enjoyed it. Maybe you can ask Gojou to take all of you to Denmark one day.

“Ah… my dear Howl. Life and curses separate us again.” Her voice is full of sadness now, no doubt mourning over her chance of watching her favourite character on a huge screen with surround sound disappearing.

“It’s okay! I’ll bring you the figurine and we can watch it again here in about… uh…”

“Ten years?” She sounds like she’s about to drop dead.

“Uh… yes… But maybe five years? Hopefully? You know, I shouldn’t watch it without you. I’ll come back to school.”

“No, no. Watch the movie. At least you’ll get to see it. Ah, they’re coming now so I have to go.”

“Ah, okay. Bye, Shouko! Stay positive!”

A non-committal sigh accompanies a small “Bye” before the call clicks off. A frown takes over your face at the lost opportunity for her. She was looking forward to this for a long time and you leapt at the chance for another girls’ day out. Being able to watch a childhood favourite is an added bonus. But now you’re standing in the movie theatre, the ticket desk just across the room and an extra on your hand.

It’s a shame because it cost quite a lot. Shouko is definitely going to mope about this when you get back and maybe start smoking again. She always has a pack on her even if she said she quit, and smokes one if she’s stressed or angry. You should call someone and make sure somebody takes it away from her.

You should probably hold onto the ticket and give it back. Or maybe that would make it worse for her, serving as a reminder of this day. Conflict rages inside your head. There’s a high possibility of either decision breaking her heart. Again. A buzz from your phone saves you the trouble of deciding.

Shouko: I sent someone as my replacement.

A tap on the shoulder makes you turn as you type in a reply and you come face to face with a black jacket. Gojou’s head pops down.

“Hey there. I think you called for a replacement!” He seems to be in a ridiculously good mood, even more so than usual. Maybe his students successfully finished another mission. Which is great. It also means more paperwork for you. Which is not so great.

“How did you com—ah. Teleportation.”

“Ding ding ding! Correct!” He's been using the skill more frequently lately, popping in and out of places like one of those Whac-A-Mole games. . It gives you heart attacks all the time and you’re sure he gets a kick out of it. You saw how his smiles widen when you flinch or react. Thankfully it’s when you’re alone so other people never see you jump what feels like a metre into the air.

“Do you want popcorn?” He breaks you out of your thoughts. “I think they have the new caramel flavour. Apparently it’s way too sweet.” So perfect for Gojou. Even though he’s asking if you want it, there’s a spring in his step which definitely means he’s getting some. Probably the biggest option they have.

And you’re proven right because he comes back with two huge buckets which look impossible to finish. When you try to object, he cuts off with “I’ve eaten three buckets before. Alone.” With the smile he’s giving you, it really doesn’t sound like he’s joking. You try to take one to lighten the load but he says it’s alright.

He signals the way to the theatre rooms with his head, walking beside you as you find your way.

“So what’s the movie?” Your head snaps to him in confusion.

“You don’t know?” A shake and a shrug. “It’s Howl’s Moving Castle. This was Shouko’s idea since she loves it and this year is Studio Ghibli’s 40 year anniversary. The cinema is having an exclusive showing of their movies this month. Only one session per movie, for some reason. Surely they would make more money if they played it over multiple days, but. I dunno. Executives make weird decisions.” A light scoff from him to tell he knows exactly what that’s like. His hatred for the higher-ups runs deep. You don’t push it.

“So she wanted to come but got held back at the last minute?”

“Yeah. Ah, here are our seats.”

You’re placed in the very middle of the room and you both make yourselves comfortable. Shouko went all out for this movie, upgrading the seats and making it a recliner. Your poor back, abused after sitting in chairs and hunched over computers for so long, practically melts into the plush cushion. It’s so comfortable that you might fall asleep in it if it isn’t Howl that’s about to start.

Feet dangling in the air, you look over to Gojou to see him on his phone. It looks like he’s in a chatroom and you catch the words ‘Shouko’ and ‘favour’ before looking away. You didn’t mean to peek, but it’s not like you can consciously not read something. It was in your line of sight and you averted your eyes as soon as you realised what you were reading. Your brother brought you up better than to pry into other people’s businesses, even if it’s really, really tempting.

“Phones need to be placed on silent, you know.” The ads are coming on the screen. He smiles at you, slipping it into his pocket.

“Just talking to Shouko. She says she hasn’t even started properly.”

Disappointment fills you. Gojou is a good friend to watch this with but you hoped Shouko would somehow miraculously finish in time. She would be devastated.

“I’ll have to make this up to her when we get back. Give her the figurine and keep her hap—ah! I forgot! Gojou, I was supposed to ask someone to take her ciga—” He cuts you off with a light pat on your hand.

“Don’t worry, I did it already. All of them are safe out of her reach and I gave her packets of hot chocolate instead. When we get back, she’ll have drunk at least half of them and be in a good mood.” What a Gojou-like replacement. He smiles like a child wanting pats on the head for a job well done. You just barely catch yourself from moving.

Gojou gets a rep for being aloof and neglectful, but he does take care of the people he holds dear to him. His friends, members of the school, his students. You hope you’re included in the list.

Actually, the more you think about it, the more you realise he’s different from initial perceptions. You learn more and more about him as time goes on, in the most delightful sense. He’s somewhat like an onion, new characteristics being revealed every time a layer is peeled. A snicker escapes at the thought of Gojou dressed up like an onion, just waddling around. He shoots you a questioning head tilt which you wave off.

In the years that you’ve known him, he made himself into a trustworthy friend. One full of laughs and ridiculousness. Maybe it’s his childishness that puts you at ease, but he’s incredibly comfortable and easy to relax around. Thoughts trail and the words fly out of your mouth before you even think.

“You know, I think you would make a wonderful boyfriend.”

He freezes completely, like somebody’s zapped him in place. You stare at him, wondering what’s wrong, but the lights dim and by the time he gathers coherence, your concentration is on the opening sequence.

“Ah, that was so good! Ugh, I love Howl. Isn’t he so cool?” You skip out of the room, remembering to take the figurines provided at the exit, with Gojou trailing behind you. “You know how she asks him to wait for her in the past? The first thing he says to her in the movie is ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ He searched for her the entire time! This is modern poetry. This.”

“Do you think Howl would be a good boyfriend?” The question stops you. It’s different than usual for some reason, the voice asking the question and the intensity of it. He’s still his aloof self, all smiles and grins, but there’s something you can’t quite place that’s wrong. It’s unnerving, but you diligently answer his question.

“Um, I mean, yeah? Look at how cute he is with Sophie. See?” The figurine is a frozen shot of Howl and Sophie dancing in the rain with an umbrella that’s not being useful at all. They’re both incredibly detailed, so much so that you can see their clothes and skin drenching wet. Wow, this is actually a phenomenal job. Shouko will be so happy. It makes your heart lighter knowing that at least something might light up her day.

“Why is he cool?” Gojou seems to be invested in Howl. It confuses you since he just watched the movie with you and he saw how awesome Howl is.

“Hm, well for one he can do magic.” He opens his mouth but you shush him with a finger to his lips. “Yeah, I know, what we have is kind of like magic too. But theirs is just… different. He just makes it seem kind of elegant. And he overcame his fear just for Sophie. Remember the scene with Sulliman and in the cluttered bedroom? He still found the strength to protect her even though he was so scared before. It’s admirable. I guess I like strong guys.”

“Hmm~” His tone is contemplative. “You know I’m stronger than him, right?”

A question mark forms over your head. He’s being really weird today. “Yeah? You’re the strongest in the universe, silly. What’s up with you?” Gojou just chuckles and ruffles your head.

“Nothing, nothing. Just making sure you know.” He slings his arm around your shoulder, the intensity gone and the light spring in his step back. “Who else do you think is strong?”

Next chapter →

#gojou x reader #gojou imagine #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru imagine #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojou #gojou satoru #fluff #series #female reader

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

taking the fall (2)

warnings: fear, injury, mild blood

It was Roman’s love of the arts that did him in.

He was loath to admit it, but Virgil had been right. He’d always been enchanted by the musical productions he’d seen on human teevees, always finding a spare moment to perch on a dusty shelf and take in as much as he could.

So, when he overheard a musical chorus while scavenging for extra paper from the apartment with the newly-moved-in tenant, there was simply nothing else he could do except to investigate further!

One trek and several hiding spots later, he’d found the perfect angle to eavesdrop on the human’s computer. Even better, once he was unpacked, the human was consistent. There were schedules and calendars and sticky notes all over his desk, and he adhered to them strictly, making his apartment the perfect place for Roman to borrow for their little community.

And if he happened to make a return trip and perch himself on the shelf above the human’s rolling chair at the perfect time to see whatever stage production the man was watching this time? That was nobody’s business but his own.

He certainly wasn’t about to tell Virgil, who seemed to get secondhand stress from Roman’s accounts of past riskier borrowing trips. The outie was more than accustomed to the dangers of living outside, but ‘human beans’ were a whole different story.

No, Hot Topic would never get the odd almost-longing that Roman sometimes felt when he saw the amazing things that humans could do. On the tiny laptop display, he could almost pretend those wonderful theatrical productions were actually done by people his size, that they could perform without worry of discovery or capture.

It was a combination of indulging such thoughts and knowing the human’s schedule back-to-front that made him so bold.

When Logan came home with an armful of art supplies, Roman was immediately intrigued, though he justified it as checking for useful materials to borrow. He spent that afternoon watching as Logan methodically glued, hammered, and painted wood into the shape of a miniature house-- no, a set!

It looked just like the stage for the most recent musical Logan had (unknowingly) played for him. Roman was enchanted, coming back every day between borrowing trips to see how more tiny furniture and stairwells had been carefully crafted with the help of a magnifying glass and precise tools. The set came together piece by piece, until it was as complete as any Broadway production.

And then, the downfall. It was during one of these little visits that he overheard Logan on the phone, reassuring whoever was on the other end that the ‘scale model’ was finished and ready to be brought in tomorrow afternoon. Roman had felt a tightening in his chest, and after probably too little time spent deliberating, he was settled.

He was going to stand on that stage, at least once.

It took some doing to cover his tracks-- Mari had been oddly antsy lately, and it had been making everyone else jittery as a result. He’d been playing up his own glittery-ness in order to reduce the tension, and had volunteered to take another shift borrowing at 2B, the apartment with the snakes and the human that had been eerily perceptive lately.

It wasn’t lying, really. He would go borrow from there, just… after he’d made a quick stop to fulfill his newfound dream!

Logan always slept heavily until his alarm went off, so Roman felt no fear sliding down to the floor at the early hours of the morning. He remained alert, of course, throughout his entire trek over to the table that the human had spent so many hours hunched over, but as he predicted, there were no unusual sounds from the human’s bedroom.

From there, it was only a swift climb up with the help of his hook, and he left it nestled there in the wood, just in case he needed a swift getaway.

Finally, he was before it.

The strangest part about it all was the way that everything seemed to fit just about right for someone his size. He was used to cobbling together chairs and beds out of whatever material was at hand, repurposing anything and everything that came customized for humans.

These chairs were like real ones, human ones that fit together and had all their pieces, and Logan had been so meticulous about making sure everything was to scale that there wasn’t any awkwardness to sitting down on it. Overcome, he nearly sprinted up the model’s stairs to the bedroom terrace above it, flinging himself onto the bed-- perfectly matched up linen, pillows and pillowcases, just like a real bed-- and muffling his delighted squeak into his hands.

The instruments on the dresser were light and easy to grab, though Roman was disappointed to find that the ornate hand mirror didn’t have very high quality glass and was a bit hazy. The hairbrush seemed to be handcrafted, however, and Roman ran it through his own hair once, twice, immersing himself in an imaginary scene.

He had the dialogue mostly right after Logan’s obsessive rewatching of scenes-- pausing often to jot down set reference-- and he wasted no time in pacing around the room and ranting in a whisper, detailing an imaginary conflict in an aside to the audience. He mocked slamming the hairbrush down on the dresser, and turning, the anger drained from him, to walk to the terrace and look out longingly.

He hesitated.

In the scene, the character would be staring up at a night sky. In a play, the actor would be looking out over an audience hanging off their every word.

In reality, he was staring out at a world that was and always would be too big for him.

His soliloquy trailed off to bitter silence, and Roman backed up, shaking his head. He hadn’t a clue why he’d thought this would help him, rather than just rub his nose in what he couldn’t ever have.

Carefully, steps silent, he readjusted the bedding, removed a stray hair from the hairbrush, placed everything neat and right where he’d left it. He would leave no evidence of his presence, just like always.

When he turned around, he met the gaze of a human, standing only a few feet away bedecked in a bathrobe and fluffy unicorn slippers.

It was like Roman had been suddenly drenched by an icy downpour, his whole body going cold with shock. His muscles locked up, and even when the human took a step closer, he couldn’t seem to wrench himself free of the mental paralysis.

Talk about stage fright.

Normally a boon, his imagination was working against him now, spinning elaborate visions of what was to come. He’d been seen, and now not only would he be doomed to die by a human’s whims, but he’d also put every borrower in and around the building in danger. All borrowerkind, even, if this human was bad at keeping secrets.

“So, how are the proportions?” the human in question asked, leaning forward slightly with an excited glint in his eyes.

Roman blinked, befuddled.

“Are they to scale? You seem to be able to manipulate them easily, which bodes well, but I’m not sure the dining room chairs have short enough legs to make sitting at the table feasible…,” Logan trailed off, looking between Roman and the lower level of the model as though measuring him mentally. “Would you mind sitting in one?”

He reached out for something on the set, and Roman’s instincts seemed to kick back into high gear, sending him skittering back across the scaled-down room, grabbing his bag as he went. He remembered seeing a window cut into the backing of the room adjacent, there—!

Heart racing in his ears, he barely registered the human’s voice raised in alarm as he swung himself over the miniature window ledge. The landing jarred his bones, but he was still all in one piece, and that was good enough for him!

There were only moments before the human leaned around to see where he’d gone, so he wasted no time in sprinting to where the desk met the wall. Logan’s laptop charger trailed down in the small gap behind the desk, the closest thing he’d get to a rope down with his real hook on the other side of the table next to the human.

Logan seemed to be a bit slower than usual, since Roman managed to slide down out of sight before the human could move to even catch a glimpse of where he’d gone.

His hands stung slightly as he descended much faster than advisable, already trying to come up with his next step. All his entrances were higher up, but if he could get under nearby furniture, he could cut into the fabric and hide in the hollow underbelly until the coast was clear--!

The only warning he got was a barely audible click from above, and then his ‘rope’ gave out and he was in gut-churning freefall.

Roman fell for three fluttering heartbeats, just enough time to realize what was happening, and he hit the ground feet-first.

His right leg gave out with a dull crack, and the pain-- impossibly overwhelming-- reached him only an instant later. He bit down on his arm to muffle his cry, tears forming as the slightest shift of his leg sent ripples of agony through him.

Well. No longer in one piece, then.

He struggled to come up with a course of action as his head swam. His entire body had gone cold and sweaty, his vision darkening despite his best efforts to stay alert.

An enormous shadow fell over him, and his one last attempt to move was enough to finally make him succumb.

---

Logan allowed himself one very heartfelt swear, watching as the tiny person under his desk slumped over, limp and boneless.

This was not what he had expected when he’d shuffled into his living room to go make some celebratory coffee for managing to finish both the last touches on his latest set model and his ridiculously elaborate statistics midterm all in one night.

Perhaps he could have handled the situation better, but to be fair to him, upon spotting the miniature person, Logan had honestly assumed that he’d either started hallucinating, or had fallen asleep after all. He figured that if he was going to imagine such things, he might as well try to soothe his own concerns about any imperfections in the scaling.

The spike of fear and guilt that he felt hearing that tiny, muffled cry of pain meant that there was no way he was heading to bed anytime soon. He sent a few texts to Patton, informing him that he wouldn’t be able to bring the model to the theatre today and asking him to smooth over any ruffled feathers.

He was well aware that this was completely unprofessional-- he would surely be getting an interrogation from his friend later-- but for the moment, he needed to focus on more important matters.

From the injury he was sporting, the tiny person hadn’t landed on his back, so it would be alright to move him as long as he acted with care. Logan carefully slid a plastic folder under the stranger, muttering apologies when that tiny face crinkled up slightly even in unconsciousness. He lifted the folder up slowly and moved to the kitchen, where the first aid kit was stored under his sink.

From there, he quickly assessed the injuries he could see.

The leg was expected, and it seemed to be swelling rather severely. Unexpectedly, there seemed to be bleeding along the arm, and Logan had to retrieve his magnifying glass to see the injury in detail.

Upon closer inspection, the wound was in the shape of a tiny bite mark, indicating that the stranger had bitten down on himself to avoid screaming. Logan felt his heart sink a little further at the continued confirmation of the terror he’d seen in the stranger’s face before he fled. He’d really frightened the poor creature by moving so thoughtlessly.

He took a deep breath and pushed the feelings aside, flipping the lid of the first aid kit open. He could worry about potential reactions to his presence after he made sure the tiny stranger would at least wake up with less pain than before.

It was his fault this had happened, after all, and so he would do his utmost to fix all that he could.

#sanders sides #g/t #ts roman #ts logan #ttf #borrowers #writing #My writing #taking the fall #bthb #injury tw

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jinkicake · 4 years

Text

See How Far You Can Get

Sugawara and Tsukishima with a bratty sub!

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Here Anon~~ You know how much I love writing for Tsukki,,, he is a brat but he is my brat! That’s my baby~ Can’t stand that bitch! I wonder what Tsukki would be like as a bratty sub,,, hmmm....

SMUT // NSFW

WC- 1,381

~~~

Sugawara Koushi

Sugawara likes seeing you act bratty, he finds it amusing and he’d probably fuel your inhibitions

He would very much entertain you and purposely rile you up, run his slim fingers along your exposed thigh or rub his thumb along your throat

A good amount of the time you act up is because Sugawara made you,,

He especially loves to play with you in public when you’re already acting bratty,,,

Like you could be pulling on his sleeve, begging for his attention, and he’d straight up ignore you and continue talking to Daichi with the most pleasant smile on his face while running his hand along your back

I don’t think Sugawara’s punishments would be that bad, they’d probably just be full of teasing

He’d ask a lot of questions and always make sure you’re into it,, even if you can’t respond because he gagged you HAHAHA

Sugawara would use his fingers a lot when he punishes you, his fingers are his ultimate weapon… You’ll cum over and over again just from his fingers alone

His punishments are usually very gentle,,, his touches are soft and it’s nothing too rough. However, just because his punishments are soft doesn’t mean you won’t be left feeling like you got your guts rearranged

Sugawara is very sweet with his aftercare, he takes pride in cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay since,,,, he technically did start the whole thing first LOL He takes responsibility for his baby~

“And that is why I told you Daichi,” Sugawara sighs dismissively, tightly gripping his phone in his hand, he desperately wants to palm his temple. “yes I am going to pull an I told you so. I told you so, bitch!” Your boyfriend sucks in a deep breath to calm himself, soothingly running two of his fingers between your lower lips. The sight of you laid out for him like this gives him such a sense of relief, the trust you give him feels so relaxing.

“I told you what would happen if you had the nerve to show your face around her again, don’t act surprise.” Sugawara clicks his tongue and simultaneously thrusts his two fingers into you, immediately curling them along your walls. “You should just be happy that Yui didn’t toss your things out into the street, she is such a sweet girl.” The retired setter continues to scold, telling his friend off. “Not as sweet as my (Y/N) though~”

A warm air of laughter is heard throughout the room and you clench around his fingers at the sound, Sugawara looks down at you with his eyes full of interest.

“Daichi, I have to take care of something. We will talk about why you don’t forget your one year anniversary later!” The dismissive tone in Sugawara’s voice makes you sigh in appreciate, the phone that was previously to his ear is now somewhere else. “Okay my love, you want my attention?” Sugawara coos, not once removing his fingers from your aching core, he leans down to brush his lips along your collarbone lovingly. His lips are full of compassion and excitement.

“Such a shame, I had to gag your pretty little mouth.” He sighs and eyes the panties that are stuffed into your mouth. “Oh, well.” Sugawara brings his thumb up to circle your clit, gently playing with the sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers nearly split you in half.

“You like what I’m doing with you or do you want something else?” He asks, his voice full of concern. When Sugawara hears that muffled needy whine, the sound that you make whenever you beg for more, leaving your lips he can’t help but laugh. “Babe, I’m not actually asking.”

His lips once again take the span of your jaw, your cheek, everywhere but your lips, and you tear up in frustration.

“Oh no, is my baby sad she isn’t getting her way?” Sugawara pouts mockingly, his eyes softening at the tears pricking at your eyes. The soft look in his eye flashes and leaves almost instantly, a teasing smile now playing at his lips. “Well, I don’t care.”

Tsukishima Kei

This bitch will not put up with your shit, he won’t let you get away with anything

Like you breathe wrong and it’s over for you….

Tsukishima would probably ignore you as a mild punishment, him ignoring you is a warning

If you ignore his warning and stay bugging him, keep acting out, THEN the sadistic Tsukki we all know to be true will come out

You have to be pretty ballsy to piss Tsukki off, he’s such a two-faced libra ass bitch like he will act civil in front of other people and then use that same snide smile when he has you tied up and sobbing

Nothing is off-limits to Tsukki,,,, he will use whatever methods he has to in order to punish you

This bitch be like,, brat taming thingz~

A large part of his teasing would be simply tying you up and leaving you there, again ignoring you. He will get you all positioned where you think you’re going to get something but then he leaves and answers emails on his computer or something HAHHA

Tsukki will gag you if you get too loud, I think he would play a lot with cutting off your senses… He’d put a blindfold on you or noise-canceling headphones,,, it’s easier to tease you that way

Don’t expect him to go easy on you because he will not, I don’t even think he will do that much aftercare for you either like this is meant to be a punishment but…. He does make sure you are enjoying it because he isn’t that evil

“Seriously, did you want me to fuck you in front of everybody?” Tsukishima spits, his eyes violently rolling as he turns his nose up at you. The muffled whimper that falls from your mouth makes his lips curl and his fingers twitch. “Ah, you did?” His voice is full of amusement and you know he is smirking at you, you can practically see it in your head. The blindfold that covers your eyes makes it impossible to see anything, you can’t predict his movements.

A gasp is ripped from your chest when Tsukishima slaps your inner thigh, the sting and the sound resonating throughout the room is all you can focus on. Tsukishima narrows his eyes condescendingly, watching the way you flinch but nonetheless press yourself further into his touch.

“Is it that nice?” He mocks with a click of his tongue and you nod your head obediently, wiggling your hips to ask for more. Tsukishima sighs and lifts his hand, just barely touching you with the tip of his index finger as he grazes your inner thigh.

He knows what you want.

Instead, Tsukishima removes his touch from you entirely, he stands up from the bed and hums in thought with what to do with you.

“I’m going to go do a load of laundry, do you want anything washed?” He asks so casually like you are sitting on the couch and not currently tied up to his bed, spread apart for anyone to see. “No? Hmm, okay.”

With that Tsukishima leaves, he gently closes the door and it is so quiet that you aren’t even sure that he left. You keep your guard up and wonder if he is still in the same room, standing right beside you and waiting for the perfect time to slap your sensitive thighs again.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been laying there alone but you instantly perk up when you hear the door click open. Tsukishima glances at you while carrying the empty hamper back to his closet, his chest swelling with pride at how good you’ve been.

“You look so excited. You don’t actually think you’re going to get something, do you?” He asks and places the hamper down on the floor before crouching beside the bed. “You want me to touch you, don’t you?”

Tsukishima lightly hums when you nod your head and he leans down to press his lips to the corner of your mouth, a muffled laugh leaves his lips when he notices the way you squirm for more.

“There you go. That should satisfy you, for now."

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah @lovellucy @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder @macaronnv @nerdygremlin @buzzybeebee

#sugawara koshi x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #sugawara x reader #tsukishima x reader #sugawara smut #tsukishima smut #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut

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mochegato · 4 years

Text

Pixie Spy

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dick gave an offended gasp at the accusation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jason is NOT depraved!” she exclaimed affronted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 3

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

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

#jasonette #Pixie Spy #maribat

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love-and-monsters · 3 years

Text

Cold Sea Monster

M sea monster X GN reader, 2,713 words.

Winter is a rough time for monsters who usually live in the tropics. Luckily, he can rely on you to keep him warm.

There was a lump in the blankets of your bed. You prodded at it, lips pressed together to hold back a giggle. “You can’t stay in there all day. You know that, right?” The lump wriggled away from your touch. “Come on. I need to make the bed.”

“No, you don’t.” The voice was muffled beneath the cloth. The lump curled into a tighter ball.

“I do. And you need to get out of bed sometime today.” You tugged at the edges of the blanket, trying to force it up. Claws hooked it from the other side, pulled it back down. You swallowed hard against the tidal wave of giggles.

“I’m hibernating.” The lump shifted and you managed to get the grip you needed to wrench the covers up. Your partner wailed as the cold air touched him. “No! Give me back the blankets!”

“Get out of bed,” you said, staring firmly down at him. “It’s past noon.”

He slunk slowly out from under the covers, gazing at you with enormous, sorrowful eyes. His dark, fishy eyes gave him a look like a kicked puppy. Luckily, he’d given you the look so many times, you were immune.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said. “You can go get in the hot tub, if you want.”

Getting a hot tub had been expensive, but absolutely necessary when your partner was amphibious. He was covered in pale blue scales that melted into skin on his belly. Brightly colored fins stood on the top and sides of his head and his long tail ended in an enormous, frilly fin, though it was folded down most of the time. He crouched on his long, digitigrade legs, peering at you with soulful, sad eyes.

“It’s so cold,” he whimpered. You rolled your eyes.

“I turned the thermostat up.” Keeping a tropical boyfriend warm in the winter was a pretty big task- even with the thermostat in the seventies, he still shivered and complained.

He looked sorrowfully at the electric blanket as you tucked it away. His mouth gaped in an enormous yawn. It was quite a change to see him now from the summer- he was usually energetic, but the instant the temperature started to dip into the forties, all his enthusiasm seemed to drain out of him.

“I set up a fire downstairs,” you said. “And a humidifier.” The drying effect of heating a house wasn’t great for an amphibian either. He yawned again, standing to his full height. He was much taller than you, with long limbs that helped him move through the water.

“Okay.” He snagged a quilt from his blanket pile and wrapped it over his shoulders. “Are you done?”

You smoothed down the last of the bedsheets. “Yeah, I’m done. Do you need me for-”

Before you could finish your sentence, he had seized you and pulled you into his arms. You yelped, startled, though not entirely surprised. He had a habit of picking you up and hauling you around. “Where are we going?”

Instead of answering, he simply pulled you into the living room. The fireplace was going, and there was a humidifier humming away in the corner. A heating pad sat tucked in a pile of soft blankets.

He wasted no time burrowing into them, you still in his arms. “Hey,” you said, squirming. “Come on, Morgen, I have to go to work.”

He rolled over, smushing you underneath him. “You work from home!”

“Yeah, on my laptop. Which is in the office. And not here,” you said. Morgen grumbled.

“What I mean is, there’s no way they can tell if you’re in the office on time or not. So…” He squirmed over, trying to give you another sorrowful, big-eyed look. It was a bit diminished by the fact that he was mostly covered in blankets and it was hard to see his face.

“Look,” you said. “It’s past twelve. I’m technically on a lunch break right now, but I am going to have to go back to work eventually. And you’re going to have to let me go eventually.”

“That’s what you think,” Morgen said, puffing up his chest. “I could lie here all day. And you’re going to lie here with me!”

You stuck out your tongue at him. “What if I have to go to the bathroom?”

“Ugh.” He gave you a playful shove. “Why do you always have to ruin all my perfectly laid plans?”

“If reality has started screwing up your plans, maybe they weren’t perfectly laid in the first place,” you pointed out. Morgen wrapped you in his arms and pulled you further into his enormous nest of blankets.

“Shh,” he said. “Be quiet. Let’s take a nap.”

There was more work to be done and a billion other things you could be taking care of at the moment. But it was so warm under the blankets and Morgen was rubbing at your tense shoulders in a way that felt so nice after hours of bending over a computer, and the idea of crawling back into the cold office and staring into a screen was sort of depression.

You groaned and rolled over, pressing your face into his shoulder. He made a quiet noise of triumph next to your ear, squeezing you even tighter. “Yes. I win!”

“Yeah, sure,” you grumbled. “Hope you like going to bed alone because I’m going to be staying up late finishing all my editing.”

“Noooooo,” Morgen wailed. “I hate going to bed alone! It’s so cold.” Despite that, he didn’t make any attempt to release you. If anything, he clung tighter. You snorted, stroking your fingers along the top of his head. His fins twitched as you ran your fingers along them. They twitched and jerked under your ministrations. His fins were so delicate and sensitive. Apparently, they could pick up subtle changes in the currents when he was underwater. On land, they made him very ticklish if you played your cards just right.

One of his ear fins twitched wildly as you ran a calloused fingertip over it. “Cut that out,” Morgen said sleepily.

“Yeah?” you said, scratching at the thin membrane. “What are you going to do about it?”

Morgen made a noise that could generously be described as a snarl and less generously described as a snore and rolled over onto you. “Gotcha,” he mumbled, wrapping his tail around you. “Now you’re never getting out.” You were completely smushed under him, though he was leaning back so you could still breathe. His tail was twitching, fins slapping against your back. It was rather funny, the way he wagged his tail when he was comfortable.

There was very little you could do to actually get him off you. He was pretty heavy and as he started to relax, the weight only seemed to increase. It was still pleasantly warm under the blankets, though his skin was cool against you. You closed your eyes, running your hand along the top of his head.

You startled awake abruptly. Your head was hazy and confused and your sense of timing was completely lost. It could have been thirty minutes or six hours for all you knew.

Muzzily, you poked your head out from under the pile of blankets. Morgen was still on top of you and he protested sleepily against your movements. After a moment of craning your neck, you caught a glance at the clock.

“Morgen, you need to get up. It’s two thirty.” He groaned, attaching himself even tighter to your side. “I need to work, come on!”

“No! I’m sleepy and you’re so warm.” It was impossible to get up with Morgen attached to you. He was so tall and his gangly limbs meant that he could very easily attach himself to you and he couldn’t be pried off.

“It’s past two! I need to work.” You kicked the blankets away from you and shivered. Even with the fire on, the warm was still pretty chilly. Morgen whined and retreated back into the blankets like a deep-sea creature recoiling from sunlight.

“You’re going to abandon me,” he said. He blinked at you from under the blankets. Somehow, having the blankets tangled around him only served to make him more pathetic. “Your boyfriend… all alone… cold and abandoned.”

“I’m not abandoning you! I’m going to be one room over! You’re going to be asleep, you’re not even going to notice that I’m gone.”

“I’ll notice,” Morgen said sorrowfully. “I always notice.”

You hesitated, then crouched down next to him again. “Okay. I think I have a plan. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”

He looked suspiciously at you, but he let you leave. You trotted to the office and carefully pulled your laptop free from its nest of wires.

Morgen had fully buried himself under the blanket when you returned. He peeked out as you stopped next to him. “You brought your computer,” he said.

“Yeah. Budge over, make some space for me in the blanket.” Morgen was only too happy to do so, rolling over and lifting the blankets so you could shuffle in next to him.

It was sort of hard to write while lying on your stomach. Resting all your weight on your elbows hurt after a bit, and it was awkward to type. Morgen didn’t help in any way. He was half-sprawled over your back, a heavy weight that pressed you into the ground. Despite all the discomfort, though, you didn’t want to change your position. Morgen made little, sleepy noises of contentment as he pressed his face into your shoulders. Occasionally, he would even move to press kisses to the base of your neck. It was utterly delightful.

The afternoon dragged on. It was impressive how much Morgen could sleep, really. And such a change. It was strange to think about how much temperature affected his mood. You looked at him, curled against your side. He wasn’t quite entirely asleep, you thought. It was more like the sleepy hazes your childhood cats had gone into. His eyes were closed, but his fins twitched at the slightest sound and you could see his eyelids twitching every now and then.

You only ended up working for a couple of hours. Not only were you getting stiff from trying to type on the floor, but you were also growing increasingly distracted by Morgen. He had started to stir and was clearly trying to get your attention.

“Do you need something?” you said, finally pushing your laptop away. Morgen beamed, tail wagging so hard it shifted the blankets aside.

“I think I just got it,” he said. He tucked the blankets securely around you. “Want to put on a movie?”

“Are you actually going to stay awake through the whole thing or do you just want something in the background while you go to sleep?” you asked. Morgen tried to look innocent and utterly failed.

“It’s not my fault the cold makes me sleepy,” he said. “You can put on whatever movie you want! I won’t even complain if it’s one of those really boring ones.”

“The Poltergeist is not a boring movie. You just have no appreciation for subtlety,” you said.

“It’s so subtle that nothing happens,” Morgen said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t get why humans are so scared by it.”

There was no way either of you were going to win the argument, so you just grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. Morgen wasted no time in sprawling himself across your lap, still smothered under several blankets. In the end, you put on an animated move you’d both seen several times before. Morgen said the way the water was shown reminded him of home, and you liked the story and bright colors.

Morgen dozed on your lap as you half-watched the movie. In truth, you were more paying attention to him. you worked your fingers over his scalp, scratching against the fins. He made little noises of satisfaction, leaning into your touch. For a water creature, his cat-like behavior was rather funny.

“I can’t believe how much you can sleep,” you said as he started awake and shifted his position on her lap. “You’ve barely been awake for two consecutive hours.”

“It’s the cold,” Morgen said. You ran your hand along his head and he pressed into the touch enthusiastically.

“Does the cold just make you more sluggish or does it actually make you need to sleep more?” you asked. Morgen rolled onto his back, his head still resting on your lap.

“This is just a guess,” he said. “I’m totally speculating here based on some stuff I’ve heard, but I think it’s mostly accurate. So, my species lives in tropical areas, yeah? But it was thought that in the past, we lived somewhere a little more temperate, that sometimes got cold snaps. And when there were cold snaps, in order to conserve energy, we went into a hibernation mode, where we all gathered together and slept until temperatures rose again.” He yawned, showing off his large canines. “Sorry. Anyway, when we moved to more tropical areas, we stopped needing to hibernate, but we still have the genes for it.”

“Which means that spending time in the cold is triggering your need to hibernate,” you said. “That’s why you’re sleeping so much. Your body is trying to hibernate.”

“Mm,” Morgen murmured. “My body wants to find somewhere warm where I can sleep until the temperature rises.”

You stroked your hand over his head again, fingers twitching. There was an abrupt feeling of nervousness coalescing in your stomach. “It must be hard. To fight that.” You played with one of his fins. “Is it uncomfortable?”

“I’m sleepy a lot. And cold a lot,” he said. “It’s a little uncomfortable, I suppose.”

You pursed your lips. “Would it…” There was something choking happening in your throat. Morgen blinked up at you, waiting for you to keep speaking. You cleared your throat a couple of times. “Er. Would it maybe be easier for you if you did hibernate? I mean… If that’s’ what you’re supposed to do in the winter? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Morgen looked up at you with his big, soulful eyes. “If I’m asleep, then I can’t spend time with you.”

You snorted. “You’re avoiding hibernating because you’re afraid I’m going to miss you?” It was unreasonably sweet and it was also fairly accurate. You pushed your sorrow away, though. It wasn’t fair to him, to force him to stay awake for you. “I mean, I will, but it’s only during the winter. And you’ll be awake sometimes. I’ll manage. You’re not the only person I talk to, you know.”

Morgen’s fins drew close to his face and he gave a small, slightly sheepish smile. “I wasn’t really worried about you missing me, exactly. I was more worried about me missing you.”

You made a noise of surprise. “You’ll be asleep. Are you even going to notice?”

He flicked his fins out and in, his version of a small shrug. “I think so,” he said. “I haven’t just been wanting you around because you’re warm. I love you a lot. I want to be with you.”

“I know,” you said. You couldn’t keep the emotion out of your voice and Morgen smiled, pressing his face into your stomach. “But I don’t want you to make yourself sick or something because you’re not doing what you should during the winter. And I really don’t want you doing that on my behalf.”

“I’m not doing it on your behalf,” Morgen said, his voice muffled. “I’m doing it because I want to.” He turned his head to blink sleepily up at you. “Trust me. I’d much rather spend time with you, even if I’m a little sleepy, than spend all winter asleep.”

Your eyes stung with tears. You sniffed. “That’s the sweetest thing I think anyone’s ever said to me.”

Morgen lifted his head toward yours, smiling. “It’s true.” You bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He sighed, reaching a hand up and pulling you down to kiss you more firmly.

“See?” he said as you broke apart. “I can’t get that when I’m sleeping.”

#exophilia #sea monster #sea monster boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster lover #fluff #this is just straight fluff guys #monster bf

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spencerspecifics · 3 years

Text

Okay yes hi hello this is me gracing y’all with my writing Bc I’ve had this idea forever!! This is going to be multiple chapters, here is chapter two. Enjoy :)

Technical Analyst (ch.1)

Short description: Spencer works as a technical analyst alongside Garcia and Kevin, though he hasn’t ever really worked directly with the BAU team, he works more in filing and researching. But when Garcia goes on vacation leave, and Kevin is busy with his own work, Spencer steps up to help- and that’s when he meets Derek Morgan.

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Spencer hated technology. He hated computers, tablets, cell phones, he hated it all. He hated everything and anything that isn’t on printed onto paper. So how the fuck did he end up as a technical analyst- whose entire job was based around proficient use of technology? In very short, budget cuts.

He originally worked in domestic terrorism, though he never fit in well there. He was a good worker, fast and able to do a lot. But his coworkers never let him feel included. He would hear them make plans without him, ignore him in conversations, only reaching out to him for his great memory to help solve a case. It was dehumanizing. He was just a brain for them, nothing more.

Then, the budget cuts came. And he got removed from the team, as he had the least amount of hours in the field- which wasn’t his fault. The rest of his team always forced him into the research position, so while they were off chasing the bad guys, he was stuck researching with a computer he doesn’t trust.

So yeah, he wasn’t an asset to them. But the bureau knew a mind like his in general was an asset, a fountain they’d like to keep a tap on. So they made work for him. It was mostly menial. He would assist with intense cases when necessary, but even then it was just research. No one knew what he would be like in the field, because they never gave him the chance.

Spencer tried not to think about how unfair this was, how stupid and purely tedious it was. He would rather be working as a T.A. at this point- which wouldn’t even be that bad. At least he gets heard and seen then.

Spencer’s normal day consists of going from his apartment to the bureau building, to directly into his cramped little office that was about the size of a jumbo walk in closet. A nice size to store clothes, but not so nice when you have to have a person, a desk, a chair, three computer monitors, two filing cabinents, a trash can, a fax machine, and a printer all crammed in there.

Yeah, his workplace was entirely too small. Thankfully it didn’t impact his ability to work, though, most the time Spencer finished his work quickly; and would end up reading. Spencer didn’t venture out from his office that much at all, (he always brought his own coffee so he didn’t have to worry about bugging the field agents.) the exception to leaving his office was to go across the hall to Penelope Garcia, his only sort of friend that he had at work. She was always so bubbly, it was a breath of relief for him to go see her- she reminded him of all the positive things, he definitely couldn’t do the job without her.

Not to mention, she had to train him from starting point zero. Spencer hated technology, after all. So he never made an effort to learn coding, hacking, how to re-route and track things. He knew nothing like that, hell, he struggles with his cellphone turning on sometimes.

Thankfully, she was able to get some sense into him, and he was pretty good at what he could do. Though he was still working out python coding, he was enjoying the learning process of using technology.

That being said- he still despises technology, and he hopes that once he leaves the job, he can throw away his very unnecessary but work mandated laptop.

Spencer made his way into the bureau building, messenger bag slung over his shoulder awkwardly as a thermos of coffee was held tightly in his right hand, while the left one reached for the door handle to enter. He got in no problem, security didn’t stop him anymore, thankfully. Though in the beginning, they did check him constantly, verifying that he belonged there. After all, he looked young, and he definitely didn’t belong in the bureau building. But then again, Garcia didn’t look like she belonged there either.

Security just made presumptions about people, he shrugged that thought off as he made his way to the elevator. Thankfully no one else was in there, he pressed the button for floor six, and the elevator doors shut.

The elevator whirred to life, taking him up to the sixth floor slowly. Thankfully today was a slow day, there wasn’t really any important case he had to work on. (Not like he ever really got given cases to work on, anyways.) So Spencer was hoping he would be able to finish his work quickly, as he had some books he brought with him that he wanted to read and re-read before the day was finished.

The elevator dinged, a signal it had reached its necessary location, before the doors finally slid back. He stepped out, taking his usual left down the hallway immediately. Forward through the glass doors was the bullpen with the agents who worked in the BAU. And god, what he wouldn’t give to be a field agent, working as a profiler. That’s why he wanted to join the bureau, and yet he was so close- his office only down the hall. But he was simultaneously so far, not being trusted by all the bureaucratic bosses, who didn’t know if he would be a good agent to warrant being put out into the field.

He hated it, but he tried not to think about it as he reached his office, Garcia’s door was shut, she was on vacation, or so he had heard. Spencer pulled on his office door, entering with ease as he moved into the cramped workspace.

Spencer sat his messenger bag down onto his desk, sitting himself down in his office chair and taking a minute to breathe in and out before continuing. Spencer hated this job. It was mind numbingly boring, he was so close to quitting. He knew the bureau would fight tooth and nail to keep him, however, but if that was the case, why not give him a better job- he didn’t want a nicer office, he wanted to help people.

He sighed, today was just one of those days where he was extra mad about not being treated right, he tried to ignore this thought process as he got ready to work; setting his coffee down by his computer mouse to his right, setting his messenger bag onto the floor next to him, pulling off the scarf that was wrapped loosely around his neck and hanging it over the back of his chair. Now he was ready for the day.

Penelope didn’t mean to forget to tell the team that she was going to be gone- she assumed they knew. At least Hotch did, all the rest of them knew was that she was going to take a week off to relax, they just didn’t know when (she had too many vacation days saved up, so she had to use them or lose them. She chose the former.) It was just a total brain fart moment on her part, so while she decided to hit up her favorite stores, spas, and websites; the team had no idea, they assumed she was holed up in her office, hacking away at whatever she normally does.

This would only show itself when Derek needed her, calling her office number and it going to voicemail “Hi, this is Penelope Garcia with the FBI and I’m too awesome to come to the phone right now, if it’s an urgent matter please call Aaron Hotchner-“ yeah, Derek hung up his phone by then, deciding to call her personal cell.

“Hi, hot chocolate!” She answered cheerfully, the sounds of people talking and laughing could be heard in the background, which Derek took note of. “Babygirl- your work phone sent me to voicemail, where are you?” Garcia was quiet for a second, before practically blowing Morgan’s eardrums out; “Oh- damnit! I knew I was forgetting something!” “Care to fill me in?” He asked her curiously, “Yes-“ Garcia sighed before continuing on, “Sorry. I’m taking those vacation days Hotch told me I had to use or else I’d lose.”

“So you’re not at the office.” He stated, “That I am not, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you! But my pal Spencer Reid should be covering for me.” “Spencer Reid?” Derek asked, unfamiliar with that person, “Why not kevin?” “Ugh, I don’t know- he’s doing that thing where he’s actually busy with other work for once. But Spencer is good, I taught him everything he knows- and I’m pretty sure he’s got three PhDs, so yeah, you replaced one genius with another- so don’t worry!” “Okay, well...” Derek took a second, “You sure I can ask Spencer about everything I’d ask you?” He meant work related, within being able to hack and get everything that Garcia would be able to get. Because Morgan knew that her talents were very special, and having someone else replicate them seemed near impossible, so he was a bit hesitant to trust someone new.

“Oh yeah- he’ll find everything easy peasy lemon squeezy. Don’t worry yourself, sugar.” “Okay, thank you mama. Have a good week of rest.” “I will! I have an appointment for a spa, and oh my god Derek- they do a seaweed wrap thing, isn’t that crazy?” “So you’re gonna get rolled up like sushi?” “No! Ew! Don’t compare me to raw fish!”

The phone call continued for a bit after that, as Derek wasn’t in an urgent matter. It was just a filing day at the office, before he hung up he asked where Spencer was, though; “Oh, he’s in the office next to mine, across the hall!” Garcia told him happily. Derek had thought that was a storage closet, but he didn’t tell her- instead thanking her and hanging up.

Now to pay this mystery computer whiz a visit.

Spencer was in the middle of re-routing a bunch of information that Garcia needed to send to her boss, Aaron Hotchner. Spencer didn’t share the same boss, since he was technically working in a more basic division of the bureau, he instead answered to Strauss- which was a royal pain in the ass, but he always turned his work in on time, came in when needed, he had never had to face her wrath yet, thankfully.

Spencer typed away, trying to get all the data to get to Hotchner as quickly as possible so he didn’t have to wait, though it wasn’t crucial the work did get completed right now. Spencer just liked to get things done.

A knock sounded Spencer out of his methodical typing, it wasn’t Garcia, obviously. And he knew Kevin was in a meeting right now with some IT people over his keyboard acting funky (Kevin could fix it by himself, but office administration forced him into talking to IT.)

“Yes?” Spencer asked curiously, turning around in his office chair, because he had no clue who it was that could be interrupting his work. The door pushed open, revealing a tall, classically handsome, muscular man carrying some files in his hands. Fuck, that would be Spencer’s luck. An attractive guy swooping in and making his IQ of one hundred and eighty seven go down to sixty in two second flat

“Hi- you Spencer?” The man asked, stepping forward into the cramped office. Spencer stood up instinctively, “Yes, I am. How can I help you?” The man handed the files over awkwardly, “I’m sorry, I usually ask Penelope Garcia for this but she’s on vacation and she referred me to you- I just need these put through VICAP, I’m not too familiar with the system as a whole, ‘cause Garcia usually handles it.”

Spencer nodded, taking the files and looking through them briefly, there were nine of them. “I’m sorry, I know that’s a lot of work to do... I’m sure I can figure it out myself-“ Derek started, doing his best to apologize. Little did he know Spencer could get this done within an hour or so.

“Oh no- not a problem at all, this should only take me about an hour, two at most, but that’s a generous estimate.” Derek raised his eyebrows, “An hour or two? Garcia usually finishes up this many files within three or four. How are you able to get this done faster than her?”

“I have an eidetic memory, which helps me recall anything that I read. I can read these files once and put all the information into VICAP knowing it’s accuracy is one hundred percent without having to double check, that cuts down my speed by half per case file.”

Derek looked confused and shocked. Yeah, Spencer could understand why. “Sorry, um. That’s a weird explanation, but it shouldn’t take me as long. I’m assuming you’re out in the bullpen?” Spencer asked him, putting the files down atop his keyboard.

“Yeah, I’m Derek Morgan with the BAU.” Derek finally introduced himself, reaching his hand out. Shit, this was Derek Morgan? Garcia has mentioned him a few times to Spencer, saying he’d love him “oh he’s so handsome, but so sweet and loving, like the hottest man on earth- I’d marry him in a heartbeat, but we don’t roll like that, Y’know?” That’s how she described him once, and of course Spencer remembered that word for word. Spencer felt like it was just his luck, that his only work colleague was best friends with a man so attractive that his mind isn’t working fully.

Not to mention he was in the BAU, Spencer guessed he was, since Garcia was their technical analyst. But still, it would be just his luck to know this insanely attractive man was part of the team he wanted to belong to so bad. Spencer wasn’t sure how to respond as he kept his composure. After all, yeah, Derek was attractive. But they probably wouldn’t speak again after this exchange. It wasn’t worth Spencer thinking about him, or how Garcia described him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t shake. But it’s nice to meet you, I’ll find you once I’m done. If you need anymore help, feel free to let me know.” Spencer told him, looking back at the files on his desk as a distraction away from this hot guy that was just standing so calmly in his office, as if Spencer ever had any visitors into the cramped space besides Garcia and Kevin.

By the time spencer looked back up, Derek’s arm was back down by his side. “Okay, thank you.”

Derek was surprised by their exchange, to say the least. How did he not know about this genius before? How was he not more well known, a memory thing, three PhD’s- that would be a useful asset? How come he was hidden away in a closet sized office? He had to know more. Even if it was nosy and stupid.

Normally, he’d call Garcia and ask her if it was about an employee. But in this case, he couldn’t. And he couldn’t go to Spencer, that would be weird.

So, he did the next best thing. He asked Hotch.

He knocked slowly on Hotchner’s door, hoping he wasn’t going to tell him to mind his business and not ask about employee facts when they definitely were irrelevant.

Derek was smart though, he figured out a foolproof way to play this. So when Hotch said, “Yes?” He came in, starting his plan into motion.

“Hotch, where’s Garcia?” He asked him, as if Derek hadn’t immediately checked up on his babygirl when he couldn’t find her. “Oh,” Hotch started, setting a file down that he had been looking over, “She took some vacation time.”

“So, who am I supposed to go to for computer help?” Derek asked, “Well,” Hotchner started, matter of factly, while he reached for a thin, unopened file on his desk. “We have a new guy helping us. Kevin’s busy with helping the child abduction unit reset their computers, as well as he’s in an IT meeting right now, so we have..” Hotch stopped, looking down to read the name off the file; “Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m sure he’ll be just as good.”

“Hotch. No ones as good as Garcia.” Derek pointed out, Hotch shrugged. “Maybe not. But this guy has a glowing personal history- and Garcia told me she taught him everything he knows.”

“What’s his personal history?” Derek asked curiously, stepping a bit closer but still trying to play nonchalance. “You know I’m not able to disclose that. You can go ask him for yourself.” Derek sighed. Of course Hotch wasn’t gonna tell him shit. He should’ve expected this. But sue him, call him hopeful. He was hoping he could’ve gotten some information on this mysterious doctor.

Derek made his defeated way back to his desk in the bullpen. And Emily, whose desk was directly across from his, immediately noticed his slight annoyance at Hotch. So she asked in a hushed voice as soon as he sat down;

“Did you get yelled at by Hotch?” Because in her mind, that was the most logical explanation that made the most sense. Derek just shook his head as a response, “No,” he clarified, “I was asking about our Garcia fill-in, and Hotch wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“Garcia fill-in? She’s gone?” Emily asked confusedly looking back to the hallway that led to Penelope’s office, as if she’d magically appear. “Yeah, but just for the week.” Derek explained, “She’s using those vacation days she had saved up. And Kevin isn’t our standby, ‘cause he’s busy. Instead it’s some new guy.”

“Who?” Prentiss asked, this time she was curious. And as if on cue, Dr. Spencer Reid came through the glass doors, and into the bullpen, carrying Morgan’s stack of files.

“Him.” Morgan pointed back simply as a response as he waved Spencer over.

To say Spencer felt out of his element by being in the BAU bullpen was an understatement, he felt like a fish out of water. Like he was suffocating and everything around him was too much.

He purposely avoided the bullpen, first reason being because he didn’t have any work with the BAU. But the second reason was he knew if he stepped in, he’d be more upset that he couldn’t be on the team. And the last thing he wanted to do was make his job worse for himself.

But, this experience was an outlier. And though Spencer can remember almost anything and everything, he planned on doing his best to purposely forget all of this. Every last detail.

He wasn’t going to let himself remember how there were field agents with real life guns holstered at their sides, how they were all sitting casually, looking over cases and drinking coffee, how they had the title of SSA (he only had SA, which he still was bitter about.), and then how at a moments notice they could fly away in a jet. How astonishing their work is, how jealous he is.

But Spencer entered through the glass doors nonetheless, looking around quickly before seeing Derek wave him over. Derek was sat at his desk, talking to a woman whose head was turned away from Spencer, all he could see was that she was his desk mate, and that she had black hair.

Spencer made his way over at a brisk pace, he just needed to get in and out. If he stayed for too long, he’d let himself remember to much.

“Hey, I- I got these into VICAP no problem,“ Spencer started as he handed Derek the case files, “But I noticed some errors on the date stamping on when you found the unsub so I corrected it myself, I hope you don’t mind.”

Derek shook his head casually, “Not a problem at all, I have a habit of messing that up. Thanks doc.” Fuck, ‘doc’? Spencer hadn’t been called ‘doctor’ in months, let alone ‘doc’. This was turning into a tailspin moment for him as he smiled awkwardly, feeling a blush rising to his face, he wasn’t sure what else to do. But he wanted to get out of there.

Thankfully, the woman with black hair introduced herself, as once he had rounded the corner to see Derek, he also saw her face. She was pretty, and had bangs. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Emily Prentiss.” She reached her hand over to shake Reid’s expectantly, “Oh I-“ Reid started, hands down at his sides, he wasn’t going to move them.

“He doesn’t shake, Prentiss.” Derek explained casually, “Oh,” Emily said, dropping her hand down, “Sorry! It’s still good to meet you, though. So I hear you’re covering for Garcia?” She asked Spencer, who nodded as he pushed a piece of hair back behind his ear.

“Yeah she’s taking vacation time, and Kevin is currently busy with helping the child abduction unit. So I’ll be you technical analyst for the next week or so.”

“I’m sorry, but how long have you been with the bureau? You look really young. I don’t mean to be rude I’m just-“ “You’re really asking him the rudest possible question, though, huh?” Derek joked to her, and she just smacked him on the arm lightly before turning her attention back to Spencer.

“No you’re fine to ask I- um, I’ve been with the bureau a year and a half, but originally I was on the domestic terrorism field unit.” He explained shortly, he didn’t wanna go into how he got on the bureau to begin with, or how he left the domestic terrorism unit. All he wanted to do was have this conversation end, or else it would just be that much harder to forget.

“Domestic terrorism? So how do you end up doing technical analyst work?” Derek butted in curiously, up until now it has been Prentiss asking all the questions.

Spencer stayed quiet for a moment, before finally responding, “If you need anything else, my office is next to Garcia’s. It’s been nice meeting you, Emily.” All he gave to Derek was a curt nod before walking out at the brisk pace he had entered with.

“Wow, well you fucked that up.” Prentiss spoke to Derek once she saw Spencer exiting through the glass doors, and turning down the hallway.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at her, “I’m just curious about him, can you blame me?” Emily just chuckled softly in return, shaking her head as she turned her chair around to face him more head on.

“Are you curious about him because he’s cute, or because he’s replacing Garcia for the week?” Derek blinked at her in surprise; “I never said he was cute.” He protested, more confused than anything else.

“You didn’t say it, but your body language did. You think he’s cute. You called him ‘doc’ and he almost blushed, and I have a feeling you’re gonna try and call him ‘doc’ again to see that same result- and you watched him the entire time, even if I was talking.”

“You think random bureau agents are cute all the time, what’s it matter?” Derek rebutted, trying to deflect and ignore, because Prentiss wasn’t making sense. Derek wasn’t attracted to Spencer, he didn’t think he was cute. Spencer’s level of attractiveness had nothing to do with his curiosity.

Derek did have a right to be curious for other reasons, anyways. This guy was replacing Garcia for a bit. It made sense Derek would wanna know more about the guy, even if he was or wasn’t attractive.

“Yeah, I find agents cute. But I don’t go asking Hotch about them.” Prentiss said with a smirk, Derek just shot her a glare. “I asked Hotch because he’s replacing Garcia. And I’ve not heard of the guy before.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Was all Emily replied with as she turned back to her work, Derek just rolled his eyes at her again before turning to his own computer.

Okay, so he knew Spencer was in domestic terrorism. It couldn’t hurt to just search it up, right? It wasn’t anything classified, he’d be able to see it, Derek hoped. He wasn’t meaning to be nosy, but he was just so curious and confused. He just had to know more.

———————————————————————

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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

Text

The Ties That Bind Us - Part 5

Summary: When your past comes back to haunt you, who will prevail? Hunting had been your life since your were 4 years old. The monsters that started you on that path were resurfacing, and you knew what you had to do. But nothing is ever truly secret, and nothing is ever that cut and dry with the Winchester’s in tow.

A/N: This is a new one that is coming from a few requests. I’m not going to post the actual requests because…well because it would spoil the story line and I’m pretty into this one.

Words: 2328

Warnings: Trauma, medical terminology, stress, hospital waiting room

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR

My toes had been resting in the sand, fully submerged in the ocean saltwater, for hours. The chair I lounged in had sunk to the point that my seat was resting on the sand and was just beginning to cover the side rails. I could feel the warming rays of the sun on my skin, and I basked in the comfort of my parents sitting on either side of me.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and lazily dragging my fingertips over the surface of the water. I planted my feet and began pushing myself up to a standing position. Having been sitting so close to the ground, it took no shortage of effort to get myself upright.

“So, what’s it gonna be, baby girl?” My father questioned me from his seat in the sand. Running my hands through my salt-air blown hair, I took a deep breath.

“I don’t know.” Looking out over the water, I crossed my arms over myself, hugging my elbows. I looked over at my mother, her ever-smiling face looking up at me.

“They’ll be here before you know it,” she said soothingly. I scrunched my eyebrows together quizzically, confused once more. “The boys. The Winchester’s.” Her answer was matter of fact. I hadn’t considered them, having been too elated to immerse myself in the bubble of happiness and relief that was my family being given back to me.

“Dean,” I whispered, drawing my eyes back out to the water as the pit of my stomach dropped out.

I heard my father chuckling behind me. “That boy’s a good nut. A little marred on the outside, mind you, and completely oblivious at that. But he’s a good nut.” My arms loosened and I felt my shoulders relax as I allowed myself a laugh.

“He really is.” My words were tinged with a hint of sadness. I could picture his face. The panic that was etched into it, his wide green eyes staring at me, pleadingly, assuring me that I was going to be fine.

“Hummingbird,” my mother’s voice pulled me from my thoughts of him. “I’ve known you for your entire life. From the first fluttering of your feet in my belly, and every second since. I’ve seen you grow into this beautiful woman, inside and out. But honey,” she paused briefly, taking a breath. “I’ve never seen you as happy as you are when you’re with that boy.”

Her kind eyes seemed to be able to see right through me and directly into my heart, if not my soul.

“But mom,” I whined. “I just got you back.” She reached out and held her hand open, gesturing for mine. I placed my hand gingerly into hers, feeling the prickling of tears coming to my eyes.

“I know, Y/N. I know. But you’ll never lose us.” She looked over at my father, her smile growing. “We’re always with you. And we’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

I knelt into the wet sand in front of her, the waves lapping at my legs as my jeans quickly soaked through. “What if I want to stay?”

“Then you stay. But it’s up to you, baby girl,” my father answered nonchalantly.

“I think I’ll just go for a walk. Clear my head a little, okay?”

They both nodded back to me in response, as I began walking down the beach, my bare feet pressing into the sand with every step.

“Trap a reaper? Dean, are you insane?” Sam was yelling, his voice full of incredulity.

Dean gave no answer, just stared at his brother expectantly.

“No, Dean, this is crazy. We aren’t doing this!”

Dean stepped quickly over to his brother, gathering the front of his shirt in his fists as he pushed Sam against the wall behind him violently.

“Insane?” Dean’s voice was shaky and manic. “This is what we do, Sam!”

“No,” Sam responded calmly. “It’s what we’ve always done, and it never ends well.” He kept an even keel, ignoring the rage and sadness that were circling within him. He understood his brother’s actions but didn’t want to encourage them if he could help it.

“It ends with our family together, Sam. That’s all that matters here!” Dean’s fingers relaxed as he released his grip on Sam’s shirt and took a step back.

Sam’s face dropped. “Y/N wouldn’t want this, and you know it.”

“Well, she’s not here, is she?” Dean’s yelling attracted the attention of the nurse that had been sitting at the computer at her station. She looked up at them with judgmental eyes. “Sir!” Her voice rang out with authority.

“Sorry,” Dean answered, calming his voice down slightly but not breaking his eye contact with Sam.

They stared at each other, neither willing to back down. “I’ll do it alone,” Dean stated softly. He grabbed the bag that he had set down on the chairs and stormed down the hall. Ducking into the first bathroom that he could find, he closed the door behind him, quickly throwing the lock.

It didn’t take him long to get everything set up. Trap symbol painted, crucifix in the bottom of the mortar, ore, hemlock, what else? What am I missing? Dean went through the recipe in his head making sure he had everything just right. Finally, he dragged the blade of his pocketknife across his left palm, letting his blood begin to drip into the concoction as he threw a lit match down into it.

“O theris tes, caleo se cai deo.” He chanted the incantation and held his breath, praying that he’d done everything correctly.

“Really, Winchester? You’re summoning us into a washroom now?” The reaper who Dean recognized as Jessica was indignant. “What is it this time?” She threw her hands up in the air, disgusted, and attempted to walk away from him. Her foot faltered, hitting the edge of the symbol he had painted on the floor.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Her irritation was tangible.

“Not quite,” Dean answered with just a hint of casual jest. “I need your help.”

“You usually do.” Jessica was full of indignation. “What is it this time? Running from some big bad? Need to take a stroll through the land of the dead? What could it possibly be now?” Her anger was blazing, and though he would never admit it, Dean found himself intimidated by the reaper.

“Y/N,” Dean said by way of explanation. But the reaper gave no response, simply shrugged her shoulder and lifted her palms to the ceiling.

“What about her?”

“I need you to bring her back. Work a miracle, pull her back from hell, I don’t care.” He swallowed, his throat closing with pent up emotion. “Whatever it takes to bring her back. Just do it.”

“There’s always a price, Dean.” Her amusement was clear, both in her speech and body language, as she was now standing with one foot to the side, propping her right hip higher than the other as she stroked her chin.

“Name it. I’ll pay it.” His caramel-apple eyes began to tear as he struggled to hold them back.

“Oh Dean, Dean, Dean. Always so willing to die for those you love.” Jessica smiled, a devilishly delighted grin.

“We have a deal or not?” His gravelly voice enunciated his seriousness.

“I haven’t even told you what I would require,” she droned. “Have some patience,” she spat at him in staccato as her grim smile quickly fell into a severe and intense glare.

“I told you to name it, I don’t care. Just tell me what you want!”

She hesitated, lightly pacing across the two or three feet that she had been granted. Suddenly, she stopped in the center of the mark, her head snapping up to Dean and that same devilish grin slowly drawing itself across her face.

“What?” Dean’s demand was loud, hoping to show her the urgency of the matter.

“Nothing,” she said, succinctly and sweetly, her arms crossed in front of her.

“Nothing? You’re saying you want nothing in return? What’s the catch?”

“Call it a get out of jail free card, Dean.”

He looked at her incredulously. “I don’t get it, why would you do it for nothing?”

“Because you, Dean Winchester, will be in my debt. And I will hold that debt until it is paid in full. You can count on it. But for now,” She held her hands up, opening up her fingers as if demonstrating their emptiness. “For now, I want nothing. But you will come when I call,” she looked down at the trap before making eye contact with him again. “And I will call.”

Dean paused, considering the offer and turning it over in his mind. “Done.”

There was a knock at the door, startling Dean momentarily. “In a minute,” he yelled, waving the would-be-intruder off.

“We have a deal, then?”

Dean nodded in response, leaning down and scraping away the edge of the painted symbol. By the time he stood back up, Jessica was gone. He could only hope she would make good on it.

I walked down the beach, enjoying the feel of the warm sand between my toes and the water lapping at my feet. But internally, my mind raced. Getting my parents back was life changing. Or I guess, afterlife changing. I hadn’t seen then in decades, and yet being with them felt so natural. As if no time had passed at all. Each time my mother called me Hummingbird, the nickname I’d had since I was just kicking her bladder around in-utero, my heart soared. Each grunt or chuckle from my father sent delight through me. And yet, I felt as though I was in an impossible situation.

The Winchester’s were there. Undoubtedly working through the job, or on their way to another. Could I leave them? Could I really be truly happy knowing that I may never see them again? May never see Dean again? The thought brought a sob from my mouth as I moved my hand up, running my fingers over my mouth.

A seagull flew past me, cawing as it went, drawing my attention back behind me. I had walked farther than I had realized. I could just make out my parents as they sat in their chairs, their silhouettes small and distant. Taking a moment, I faced the ocean again, feeling the slow drag as my feet sank into the sand more with each caress of the water. I could remember my mother taking me to beaches as a child. We would both sink, giggling at the loud smacking sounds that were created when we pulled our feet out.

Smiling to myself, I looked back over towards my family and began walking again. But out of seemingly nowhere, my path was impeded by a person. A woman with long red hair and defined cheekbones stared at me, her face unreadable, wearing a long black trench coat.

“Let’s go,” she said, matter-of-factly as she pulled her black gloves off her hands, one finger at a time.

“What?” I shook my head, confused.

Her deep sigh did nothing to endear her to you, let alone to explain who she was. “You’re not the easiest soul to find up here, ya know. It took no shortage of effort on my part. Effort I should not be extending to begin with.” Both of her gloves were off now, as she looked me in the eyes, unblinking but the corners of her mouth seemed to draw up, as though she wanted to smile but thought better of it.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Jessica.”

I waited for an explanation that clearly was not coming voluntarily. “Jessica who?”

“Y/N, we really don’t have time for this.” She sighed through her sentence, obviously irritated.

“Maybe you don’t, but I have all the time in the world apparently.” My aversion to authority had kicked in and being pushed around by a stuck-up stranger did not bode well for it ending anytime soon.

“Jessica. Reaper. Here to whisk you back to the land of the living as instructed.” She rolled her eyes, clearly resentful.

“Instructed by whom?” She looked at me blankly, as if to tell me that my question as asinine.

“He didn’t.” My eyes were wide and felt as though they might burst out of my sockets.

“Like I said,” she began. “We don’t have much time. It’s now or never, kid.”

My eyes drifted over to my parents, my heart feeling as though it would break, as I felt Jessica’s cold hard fingertip press against my forehead and my vision went black.

To be continued….

Part Six

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