#‘‘i’m out here on the other side / of a jet black hotel mirror’’ and the entirety of honey this mirror and ‘‘if you look in the mirror and

[angleofmusings]

[ID: a digital drawing of Gerard Way, a light skinned person with short, dyed-orange hair. They are shown from the mid-thigh upward and are wearing the blue suit and orange hair from the Hesitant Alien era. Their shirt is off-white and stained, and their tie is red. They reach forward hesitantly, looking into a mirror on the left side of the drawing, with their brows furrowed and their lips slightly open. A visible beam of slightly cold light is cast from the right side of the image. In the mirror, instead of their reflection, is their shadow, with sweeping eyeliner and blank white eyes. Blood pools up in place of tears and drips down the shadow’s face. The shadow also has smudged lipstick in the shape of a mouth and a white lace shawl stained with blood. There is sketched lineart for Gerard and the mirror; the shadow does not have any lineart beyond the detailing. Flames creep in from the edges of the mirror. The frame of the mirror is messy and golden with gray extending from the corners. The background of the image is blood red. The artist is the original poster, @angelofmusings; its signature says “(c) LRE 2022” in white handwritten letters. /End ID]

#mcr #art #gerard way #this piece is a commentary on different gender motifs btw #like the mirror as a way of trapping the feminine self #‘‘i’m out here on the other side / of a jet black hotel mirror’’ and the entirety of honey this mirror and ‘‘if you look in the mirror and #don’t like what you see / you can find out firsthand what it’s like to be me’’ #plus the way that hes alien gee is their most masc era. and that’s deliberate bc that’s what makes them feel like an alien. #and ofc blood is a very frequent motif as well. and fire oh my gd fire i can and did talk for so long abt fire as a gender motif #plus light/shadows is a HUGE one. shadows don’t appear when you’re surrounded by bright lights from every direction. so for the feminine #self to be the shadows. that means that the bright lights of fame are inherently hostile to the feminine self even appearing #image described #angelofmusings lives up to their url #my art #also do y’all know how hard it is to draw lace when you’re on an airplane. it is ANNOYING asf #click for better quality if u want to appreciate the lace

[cypherthesuccubus]

I’m not done with you yet….darling~

Alastor x Reader -Part 2- (NSFW)(MDNI)!!!!

WARNINGS: smut, blood kink, bondage, slight S&M, Dom/Sub, rough rutting, mate marking, leash play/ownership, slight degradation, praise kink, body worship, ass worship, cock worship, she/her pronouns, vaginal sex, creampie, facial

Other Tags: Fluff, Angst

Note: Reader will receive aftercare

Hello there all you wayward sinners! This is your host Alastor tuning in! And welcoming you to Part 2 of this scandalous fic! Enjoy my darlings~❤️

(Y/N’s P.O.V)

Charlie’s tour was very detailed and informative. She is really proud of her work she has done here and it shows in her presentations. She would show me every nook and cranny in this hotel; explaining everything that went into making it become a reality. She especially was excited about the rooms and how every single room was designed for extreme comfort. She wanted every guest here to feel like they’re in heaven while on the path to heaven. Her enthusiasm was definitely contagious as I couldn’t help but feel excited about staying here. She finally stopped in front of a door almost near the end of the corridor. She takes out a key and unlocks the door; opening it to show what’s inside. “This is now your new room (Y/N)! I really hope it’s to your liking.” She does tiny hops in place; excited about your opinion on how the room looked. It was very spacious with a huge luxurious bed; draped in shear black curtains that are attached to the roof being held by the bed posts. The wooden frame was a burgundy brown; details resembling as of something that came out of royal Victorian era. The bedspread’s design was simple black silk sheets paired with black silk pillowcases to match. A Victorian like dresser placed against the wall near the door, and on the other side of the room was a pretty big Victorian like wardrobe as well. Adjacent to the wardrobe was another door that lead to the bathroom. The bathroom itself had a more modern look to it compared to the bedroom. Marble topped sink with the cabinet underneath was black along with the faucet and handles. A big mirror right above the sink showing the reflection of the black towel rack attached to the wall. A small black medicine cabinet was just right above the toilet. Then the shower itself is a walk-in with grey tiles and jet black, square like shower set. There was even a little bench built into the wall.

“Alrighty! That’s the end of the tour! I really hope you enjoy your stay here. And…sorry about earlier? I honestly have no idea why Alastor was messing with you specifically. He’s literally unpredictable. So if you feel like you’re in any danger…just let me know ok?” Charlie then gives me a reassuring pat on the back; giving a smile that in hopes will give some clarity. “Of course. I will let you know right away if I do feel uncomfortable in anyway.” She smiles wide; feeling relief that didn’t drive me off out of the hotel. “Well I’ll let you get settled in. Do let me or Vaggie know if you need anything else ok?” I give a thumbs up and a simple got it as she took her leave; closing the door behind her. I sigh heavily; finally I can relax after that experience today. Especially with Alastor. I don’t know what he meant by the things he said, but it definitely had predatory intent behind it. I need to stay away from him as much as possible; just in case he decides to make me his next meal. But there’s this little voice in the back of my head telling me to figure out why. Why would I risk getting eaten just to find out why he acted in a manner?! I really must have a death wish!! For now I need some sleep. I’ll be able to think more clearly about what I want to do after a good nights rest. But I gotta shower first before anything else. I proceed to the bathroom once again; sliding the glass door open and turning on the water; feeling the temp making sure it’s the perfect before stepping in. Happy with the heat of the water, I start to strip starting with my top; raising it over my head and onto the floor. Then I start to unbutton my jean shorts eventually sliding them down to the floor as well. As I was about to unclasp my bra, I felt this sudden chill up my spine. It almost felt like something was watching me, which made me unconsciously cross my arms over my chest; feeling rather exposed. I turn around to look into the bedroom, but there was no one there. Maybe I’m still paranoid about what happened today. Alastor maybe be unpredictable, but he’s still a gentleman. I shut the door to the bathroom hoping that was the reason of the paranoia. I’ve gotten completely nude as I walk in to the shower; sighing as the warm water hits my skin. I definitely needed this.

I finish with my shower, stepping back into the room with a towel on my head and around my body. I proceeded to the dresser and open it to find that Charlie did indeed cater to every detail. The dresser is packed full of clothes to wear, and they all look to be my size too. I pull out a white crop top and black sleep shorts along with a pair of black panties. I finish drying and proceed getting dressed for sleep. As I get under the covers, placing my head on the pillows, I couldn’t help how fast sleep took me.

The next morning I sat up in bed; yawning and stretching my back out hearing it crack a couple of times. I slept pretty peacefully last night; I must of been tired. I slowly get out of bed and walk towards the dresser again. I go through everything pulling out a black spaghetti strap tank top and a black cropped hoodie. I pair them with some black distressed jean shorts; looking at myself in the mirror. Cute! Heading out the room, closing the door behind me, I walk down the corridor yawning again as I make my way all the way to the dinning room where everyone was eating breakfast. I look around there was no sign of Alastor anywhere; which is good cause I don’t to stress out first thing in the morning. As I walk towards the table sitting down, Charlie perks up at me “Good morning (Y/N)! Did you sleep well? Sorry we missed you at dinner last night, but I’d figured you need some rest.” I smile as I put together my plate of what’s on the table such as eggs, sausage, bacon, hash browns, and a couple of biscuits. I was starving since not having dinner yesterday. “Thank you! I really need that sleep. I was completely drained after yesterday.” Angel snickers at my comment, then leaning his cheek against his hand while his arm is propped on the table. “Oh I bet you were~” Vaggie then punches him in the shoulder causing him to hold and rub the spot she hit with an ouch. “Angel! Not ok!” she says as crossing her arms. “Whaaat?~ I’m just kidding around jeez!” Angel then goes back to his breakfast with Vaggie apologizing for his behavior. “It’s ok Vaggie! It was funny.” I reassured her as Angel gave me a smirk “I think we gonna get along just fine~” he gives me a playful wink as I giggle. Angel was really funny, and just honestly good company to be around as well.

After breakfast everyone went their separate ways again cause the group activities won’t start until tonight before dinner like yesterday. But this time Angel and Cherri pulled me to the side “Heya toots! Since group won’t start until tonight how’s about a day out with us? Cherri and me are planning to go shopping and hit up a few clubs if ya interested~” I was actually excited that they would invite me out. This wasn’t so bad of a decision after all if I get to hang with these two. “Sure! I love to!” Angel and Cherri then wrap them arms around my shoulders; leading me out the door “That’s awesome! We’re gonna get fucked up tonight!” Angels adds as Cherri pumps her fist in the air “Let’s go fuckheads!! Tonight is gonna be wild!!”

(Alastor’s P.O.V)

Sitting on the balcony, quietly sipping my morning coffee; I overhear voices down below as I glance down to see what’s going on. To my surprise I see (Y/N) with the two delinquents leading her out of the hotel. Why in hell would she want to be around them? They think fun is to defile yourself in expense cause someone paid them to do it, or indulge in narcotics. I watch as they walk down the path and for a brief moment, (Y/N) looked back and we both locked eyes; knowing we can’t pretend that we didn’t see each other. As we locked eyes, her face turns red again and she quickly turns her head back around; trying to walk away faster. I didn’t even have to say anything this time and she still got flustered. I chuckle softly, thinking that was rather….cute how easily flustered she got. I faceplam myself “What am I thinking?” I really need to stop this. For some god awful reason, this season has gotten out of hand; it’s making me think things that’s not like me. I really need to be careful now. Just even catching a glance at her will set these wretched thoughts running through my mind. Maybe hosting a little podcast will clear my head. Yes that’s what I need! Gotta keep my mind on other topics instead of her should do the trick.

A few hours goes by, as of now it’s 8pm; almost time for group again. Today went pretty smoothly with another great podcast in the books if I do say so myself. As I sit in my tower, sipping on the freshly brewed chamomile tea; I hear voices again outside. It must be them coming back after a day filled with who knows what. I set my cup down; standing up to walks towards the window only to see of course; all three are coming back to the hotel….DRUNK! Obviously Charlie is not gonna be happy about this. But, I need to stay out of this for the sake of my sanity. If I honestly have any left by tonight.

I can hear distant yelling downstairs as I continue to finish my tea, whilst I read my book. I’d figured things would go south; guessing group is canceled for tonight. Honestly, that is definitely for the best. I really can’t risk anymore thoughts invading my mi-. My thoughts were cut off by a knock on the door. It might be Charlie wanting to inform me of the cancellation of group tonight. Setting my cup down again, I make my way towards the door; opening it expecting Charlie only to end up being (Y/N). Oh no….(Y/N) is at my door! Well isn’t this lovely! I really don’t need this right now! Yet here she is at my door….“Why hello darling! To what do I owe this….pleasant visit from you?” (Y/N) then makes her way into my radio tower “I need to talk to you…sir” she says slurring her words a bit. She’s definitely drunk and now she wants to talk to me? This is very undignified like, having a drunk woman in my presence when I should be pushing back out so she can go to her room. “Whatever is it my dear, can it wait until tomorrow when you’re…fully aware of what you’re doing?” She takes a seat in my chair, crossing her legs doing so “Not really. I won’t remember nor will I have the courage to even talk to you if I did.” Aha! So she wanted to get this way just to talk to me? Ugh! this is off to a great start. Just let her vent whatever she wanted to say and get her out as quickly as possible. “Well as long as you make it quick my dear. I do have some errands to run before calling it a night.” She chuckles while propping her arm on the arm rest and resting her cheek in her palm. “I think your “errands” can wait…..Mr. Radio Demon.” Oh~ this almost sounded like a threat. Does she dare to challenge me? No has ever challenged me and got out of it alive. She must have some sort of goal to reach; better not make it so easy for her to obtain of course. “Oh can they my dear?….you know for your second day here you’re….not really leaning towards the path of redemption.” She lets out a hardy laugh “And by the way you greeted me yesterday, you didn’t sound like you were on the path to redemption either.” I in turn give a hardy laugh back.

“That’s because I’m not here for redemption. I’m only here to be the hotel’s manager as I watch the scum of hell try to climb up to the hill of betterment; only to watch them fail spectacularly.” (Y/N) then gets up from the chair and slowly sashays towards me. “So you must be getting a kick out of what I did tonight then?” She stops just mere inches from me. She gives me this sinister smirk “What is she planning?” I thought to myself as I prepare my next words “Honestly, yes I am. I had a feeling you were gonna be entertaining. Turns out I was right as always~” She pokes at my chest “You know you think you’re hot shit Alastor, but I can see right through your bullshit.” I chuckle darkly; she really does have a death wish. I remove her finger from my chest softly tossing it aside “If you value your soul darling….then you won’t touch me like that…Ever…Again.” She ha’s as if to mock me further “I knew it! You do want to eat me! I had a feeling you were a cannibal!”

What?! Is that what she thought? Oh how…..interesting~ I can run with this. She’s not wrong though, I do have cannibalistic tendencies. Unfortunately I haven’t really done that in a while now, but I’ll let her think that I do. “Eat you, you say? Well I must admit that you do look rather…..” I lean down to her ear to whisper as I run my hand from her shoulder down her arm “Delectable~” she shuddered under my touch as I hear her gulp when I started inhaling her scent. Fuck!!! Bad idea!!!Why did I intake her scent?!?! This damn season is getting worse and worse the more I stay around her!!! I need to stop this now!!!! I back away from her; folding my hand behind my back “But I will never do such a thing! So don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” She looks at me wide eyed as if she’s still in awe of what just happened. Her face had a deep shade of red as her breaths were still a little shaky. My my~ I could get used to seeing this side of her~ That’s it!!!! I need to kick her out NOW!!!! I use my cane to usher her out of my radio tower and finally out the door “I did appreciate you stopping by my dear! But unfortunately I do have to bid you good night.” She turns around to face me “Ah yes….I think I do need to lie down now….sorry for disturbing you, have a good night Alastor.” She then turns back and makes her way down the corridor to her room, which is not far from mine “And to you as well my dear!” I quickly the my studio door again and lean back against it; sliding down to the floor as I run my fingers through my hair almost gripping my scalp.

SERIOUSLY?!?!?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!?!

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #alastor smut #alastor #hazbin smut #self insert #18+ post #18+ account #18+ content #18+ blog #18+ only

[m0thxy]

“I’m a top” “I’m a bottom” ok? I’m out here on the other side of a jet black hotel mirror and I’m so weak

#mcr #my chemical romance #the black parade

[smeagles]

‘cause i’m out here on the other side of a jet black hotel mirror and i’m so fuckin’ weak

#gerard way #my chemical romance #mcr #return #famous last words #mcrmelbourne #gif #edit #my post #flashing / #eye strain /

[whatsnewalycat]

“Can you see? My eyes are shining bright. Cuz I’m out here on the other side of a jet black hotel mirror, and I’m so weak.“

#psychomanteum inspo #I see you lyin next to me #with words I thought I’d never speak #awake and unafraid #asleep or dead?

[likehvney]

Pov I’m out here on the other side of a jet black hotel mirror if you even care

#my chemical romance #mcr #gerard way #frank iero #ray toro #mikey way #has this been said before??

[nickalphonsus]

I am not afraid to keep on living I am not afraid to walk this world alone Honey, if you stay, I'll be forgiven Nothing you can say can stop me going home

Can you see my eyes are shining bright? 'Cause I'm out here on the other side Of a jet black hotel mirror and I'm so weak Is it hard understanding, I'm incomplete? A love that's so demanding I get weak

#music #not to be emo on main but it's ok cause i'm dredging this back #and ignoring that it would've been 3 years too late for the pivotal emo moment in nick's life

[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Chapter 10

Previous | Next

I might post this one shot I’m writing later. I really need to work on my angst but I just can’t bring myself to write it. I just love fluffity fluff Because... it’s fluff, my heart go melt. Also we’re starting to get into the longer chapters now, yAY

"So?" Alya asked. "Can you tell me?"

Marinette nodded. "So um, his name is D-Damian"

————————————————————

Marinette excused herself to go to the bathroom while Alya said she would wait for her by the school's entrance. Marinette already told her about her encounter with Damian and her crush on him too which Alya found to be sweet. Then she noticed Nino and Adrien enter.

"Hey Adrien is it ok if I steal Nino for a few minutes?" She asked.

"Sure go ahead" Adrien answered, amused.

"Thanks" she said while grabbing Nino's arm and dragging him away. "I did it" she whispered to him.

"Did what?"

"I found out who Mari's crush is! But I ain't telling"

"Whaaaat why not?" Nino pouted teasingly.

"I'll tell you when they get together" she kissed him on the cheek "You can go back to Adrien now. See ya!" She went back to the locker room where Marinette was waiting.

"Hey do you wanna join us later?" Marinette asked. "We're just gonna go for a walk around Paris"

"If you want me to" Alya replied with a smug face. 'But I don't want to invade the bubble you two will be in'

~~~

Damian was in his hotel room using a make shift punching bag when the sky became dark. He took down his homemade punching bag and took a look outside. The sky wasn't really the clear but it wasn't that dark either. The clouds became jet-black and shot large bolts of electric lightning. Damian took a step back as he notice a figure floating in the sky, shooting lightning bolts from her parasol. He decided to go into the roof of the hotel to get a better look. He remained in the shadows while watching the girl wreaking havoc. 'Is this what Angel meant?'. He was dumbfounded by how powerful this villain was but then he remembered magic was involved, magic was always powerful. Then the villain floated towards the hotel.

"Where is Chloe Bourgeois!?" The villain shouted, mainly to herself. Then Damian noticed a glowing butterfly mask appear on the akumatized villain. "Yes, Hawkmoth?"

'Hawkmoth...' Damian spat the name in his mouth. He disliked this man, such cowardice for targeting younger ones like he did.

"Don't worry Hawkmoth, they'll be here. I'm too big of a threat to ignore" the girl praised herself and as if it were a word of command, A boy in a black cat suit appeared. 'That must be Chat Noir'

"Back again huh Ice Queen?" The cat-themed superhero teased.

"My name is not Ice Queen! It's Stormy Weather!" She shouted back.

"For an ice queen, you really need to cool down" he fired back. Then the girl used her parasol to conjure a massive gust of wind but Chat Noir dodged it. Then Damian watched as a spotted yo-yo wrapped around Chat Noir and dragged him away. Damian then could've sworn he heard the sound of a flute but he didn't think anything of it when Chat Noir returned, this time with a spotted hero and a fox themed hero. 'Ladybug and...Rena Rouge I suppose'.

Stormy Weather then took a fighting stance only to have her eyes covered with a towel by a figure behind. 'That's....Ladybug but how-' Damian inwardly sighed. 'Magic I suppose'. He watched as the fake Ladybug disappeared while the real Ladybug grabbed the girl's parasol and smash it in half, intrigued to see a purple butterfly, fly out of the umbrella. Damian watched as Ladybug had snatched the butterfly into her yo-yo and then proceeded to 'de-evilise' it, as what Marinette said. He kept observing them. He watched in awe as Ladybug took the spotted towel used the cover Stormy Weather's eyes and threw it in the sky, many magical butterflies emerging and fixing everything that was damaged. From the sky to the nearby buildings. After they defeated the villain, they fist bumped and then Chat Noir took the now normal girl back to where she came from. Then Ladybug took Rena Rouge and they travelled in the opposite direction.

Now thinking it was safe to come out, Damian approached from the dark and went back to his hotel room via stairs. As he locked the door to his hotel room he realised something he had not noticed before, they all had a different specialized weapon. "How could I not have noticed that before?" He muttered to himself. He played through his memories. 'Ladybug has a Yo-yo, The cat had a retractable staff and Rena had...a flute was it?'. He decided to write some of this down in Arabic that way no one would know what it said even if they were to find the note. He dedicated the rest of his time researching the heroes.

~~~

"Alya" Marinette whined. "It's not a date"

"Even if it wasn't, I still gotta make sure you look good" Alya styled her best friends's hair into a bun with a few strands loose on either side of her face. The outfit she chose for Marinette was an ivory turtleneck sweater dress with brown knee-high boots, all MDC originals of course. The thing is, Alya still didn't know that Marinette was MDC. She hadn't told her yet so convincing her best friend that all these clothes were 'thank you gifts' was difficult to say the least. When Marinette looked at herself in the mirror she let out a tiny audible gasp. She looked great if she said so herself. "What did I tell you? You're best friend knows what looks good on you" Alya said proudly while patting herself on the back.

"Yeah, you did great" Marinette giggled. "Now come on let's go!" She grabbed her best friend's arm and dragged her to where they agreed to meet Damian.

Alya wasn't sure what she was expecting but it definitely wasn't what she saw. In the distance she saw a tall, muscular and handsome man. She wasn't attracted to him, in fact, the neutral scowl on his face was enough to send fear up her spine. Alya wasn't sure if this man was safe to be around, or if it was even Damian for that matter but the bright sparkle in Marinette's eye when spotting him confirmed that this was indeed Damian. Alya watched astounded as the once threatening scowl on his face turned into a naturally soft smile the moment his eyes spotted her best friend. 'This guy is totally in love with Mari. And I'm here for it'

When Damian noticed Marinette with a girl, 'Césaire probably', he smiled and walked up to them. "Hello Angel, nice to see you" he said in French. He turned to the other girl "Damian , nice to meet you" he said again in French while holding his hand out for a handshake.

"Alya, Alya Césaire" Marinette's best friend said while returning the handshake.

Marinette's eyes were bright when Alya and Damian had introduced themselves "So now that we're here, what should we do?"

"Didn't you say that you needed fabric for your designs?" Alya asked.

"Yeah b-"

"In that case we should go shop for the fabric needed" Damian replied.

"That's nice of you guys but we don't have too-"

"Come one I know a few shops!" Alya grabbed Marinette's hand and dragged her to the fabric shops in the area with great reviews without allowing her to protest. Damian tagged right behind, smiling at the two best friend's interaction. Alya then took the time to whisper into her best friend's ear. "He called you Angel" she said with smirk on her face.

"I-it's just a nickname" Marinette stuttered as she felt her face become hot. Alya playfully rolled her eyes while leading the bluenette to one of the best fabric shops in Paris with Damian in tow.

In the end they bought Marinette three different rolls of fabric. Damian was the one who paid, though it took a long time arguing before Marinette finally backed down. She was the one who wanted to pay but Damian kept insisting he should pay. He had also offered to carry all the rolls of fabric, not that he needed to ask because he carried them anyway, ignoring Alya and Marinette's protests. Soon they arrived at her parents' bakery and they met a surprised Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain, they were mostly surprised at the boy who could carry three rolls of fabric single-handedly and look as if he could carry more. They watched, amused, as their daughter and this boy argued back and forth. Marinette saying that she could carry the rolls of fabric to her room by herself and the boy saying that he could carry it by himself. The argument didn't even last a minute before they came to a conclusion; Marinette would take one of the rolls while the boy would bring the other two. When they both left to go to Marinette's room, Alya answered a question that was in both the parents' head.

"His name is Damian" Alya said. "Marinette says he's an exchange student from the US"

"The US?" Tom said confused. "I thought he could've been from Bordeaux, there wasn't a hint of an accent'

"He must have been studying French for a long time" Sabine said, quite impressed.

Alya nodded. "Marinette's known him for a while, I just met him today and he's very smart"

Then both Marinette and Damian came downstairs. "Maman, Papa I'm going with Alya to make sure she gets hom-"

"I can go by myself it's fine" Alya interrupted. 'You and Damian need some time alone!' She inwardly smirked.

"Then I'll make sure Damian goes home" Marinette said without hesitation. They both said their goodbyes and walked out, leaving Alya and Marinette's parents.

"He's good husband material" Sabine said the moment her daughter and the boy left. Both Alya and Tom chuckled while nodding. Then when Alya turned to leave, Sabine and Tom went back to decorating some cupcakes.

~~~

Adrien kept looking through all the fan-mail he got, it was a lot but he wanted to read each and every one of them so that his fans knew he cared. But there was still something at the back of his mind, something nagging him. It was about when Plagg went to talk with Tikki about what he described as 'Kwami Business'. Adrien knew it was private conversations between kwamis but he could help but be curious as when Plagg had asked for permission to go, he was much more serious than he probably has been his entire life. "Plagg"

"Yeah Adrien?" The kwami replied, biting his aged Camembert.

"The day you went to talk with Tikki, what did you have to talk about?" Adrien watched as Plagg stiffened. Surprisingly, he put his cheese aside. 'Uh oh, this must be serious'

Plagg sighed, "It about the side effects of the miraculous"

"Side effects?" Now he was getting worried.

"The side effects only a true miraculous holder could get" Plagg mumbled hesitantly.

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster, @frieddonutsweets, @jjmjjktth, @genderfluidmoma, @starlitdreaming, @icerosecrystal, @lolieg

#daminette #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #maribat #damianette #maridami #mlb x dc #ml x dc

[killrockstar]

help girl i’m out here on the other side of a jet black hotel mirror

[fieryghxul]

Margaritas, reunions and confessions. [a.h.]

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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Warning(s): fem!reader – dom!hotch (well i tried) – last season’s spoilers – drinking – cursing – smut –  unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it tho) – oral sex (fem receiving) – slight chocking – a bit fluff at the end.

A/N: hello everyone! this is super random but i came up with this in the middle of the night and i couldn't shake the idea out of my head. i am not a writer and english is not my first language so if there’s any mistake, i apologize in advance. also, this is my first hotch smut so i hope it’s good. enjoy!

                                     ✧｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✧

[March 14th, 2020. 8:30 pm.]

“I have to go but promise me that you’re going to stop thinking about work and that you’re going to have fun these days.” You heard the pleading voice of Penelope Garcia on the phone as you walked out of the bathroom.

“I promise. I love you and I’ll see you when I get back.” You smiled and you knew that she was smiling too.

“It’s a date, angel. Love you more.” And with that, the line went silent.

You put your cell phone aside and took a look at the open suitcases on the bed. You didn't have anything planned but you knew you have to go out to clear your head and relax, things at work have been very stressful lately so when Prentiss told the team about taking some vacation time, you didn't hesitate to get a ticket and get on the first plane you found.

And that's why you were currently in a hotel room in Santorini, Greece. Yes, it seems like a lot, but nothing you can't afford.

A few minutes later, you finished applying some mascara and lip gloss, and took a few steps back to stare at yourself in the mirror. The navy-blue self-tie slit dress hugged every curve of your body perfectly; you paired it with a pair of black heels and a black jacket, just in case it gets cold at night. After taking one last look and smiling slightly at the reflection, you turned to grab your bag and left the room, hoping to have a good night once you were out of the hotel.

                                                       ▪ ▪ ▪

People flooded the streets and it was understandable, the night was really beautiful, there was a light breeze and the full moon was perfectly reflected in the sea. You have been walking for almost 2 hours, taking photos of almost everything and enjoying the night until you came across a bar, the word "cocktail" in the name of the place definitely caught your attention so you didn't think twice before walking into the place.

You walked to the bar and waited for the bartender to come up to you. While you were waiting, you could feel the back of your neck burning, someone was watching you but you didn’t want to deal with anyone yet, so you just ignored it, concentrating on reading the menu even though you already knew what you were going to order.

“Good evening, ma'am. Are you ready to order?” You look up from the menu, a brunette in her 20s is at the other side of the bar was smiling at you.

“Uh, yes, a margarita would be fine.” You ordered, mirroring her smile, and the girl gave you a little nod before walking away.

In the meantime you took your phone out of your bag and opened the ‘bau ladies’ group chat to send one or two of the photos you took a few hours ago with a “next time, i’m bringing all of your cute asses with me.” below them.

JJ was the first to reply, “oh my god, it’s gorgeous!”

Followed by Emily’s “look at that and some of us are still doing paperwork :( get drunk on my behalf please.”

You chuckled under your breath at her text and the margarita arrives just in time, “i’m on it, boss ;) isn't it a little late to be doing paperwork?"

Penelope replies next, “paperwork hahaha what a weird way to spell tara’s name“ and two “PENELOPE!” appear automatically in chat.

“you two are so obvious and spencer owns me 20 now.” You hit the send button before graving the margarita, taking a few sips of it. It takes about 3 minutes for your phone to vibrate again and you were about to answered but you are interrupted by the bartender.

“From the man at that table, ma'am.” She says placing another margarita in front of you and discreetly pointing at one of the tables that were on the patio of the place, you turned around but the only thing you see from the bar is his back. “Don’t worry; it doesn’t have anything weird on it.”

“Thank you...” The bartender walks away again and you stare at the drink, debating for a moment about whether or not to go and face the mysterious man. Fuck it. You decided before putting you phone back in your bag, forgetting about the messages and graving that and the drink before making your way to the table.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat once you reached said table, "can I seat here or are you waiting for someone?"

“Please.” He murmur in a low voice while gesturing toward the empty chair, indicating that you can sit down and a strange feeling of familiarity floods your body at that gesture. You shock your head trying to ignore that before placing your bag aside and sitting down in front of the man.

“I just wanted to thank you for the—“

The words got stuck on your throat and the world seemed to have stopped when you finally laid your eyes on the suited man that you thought you'd never see again.

Holy shit.

You stood still, a part of you fearing that if you moved he might disappear. Your face probably showing clear signs of confusion and shock as Aaron Hotchner sit right there in front of you.

He still looked serious and intimidating, his gaze reimaging cold to those who didn't know him and you remember all of those times you teased him about being a robot, there were times when you actually managed to make him laugh.

Yet at the same time there was something different about him. There was a different glow around him, he seems more relaxed and you could see it in his expressions, even in his posture.

“Hello, Y/N.” Hotchner said, voice still low but strong enough to bring you back to the present.

“Hey.” You said, still processing the fact that he was here with you and in the most unexpected place. “I, uh, it’s been a long time.”

“Almost 3 years.” He said before taking a sip of the glass that rested on his hand, you assumed that it was scotch.

3 years in 6 months, 13 days, 1 hour and 65 seconds. Give it or take.

“Almost, yeah… so what are you doing here?” You asked, “I mean, you were more a city type of guy.”

“I still am, Y/N, but Jack and Jessica insisted on me going on a little vacation because apparently it’s been a while since I had some ‘me-time’.”

Your face light up a bit at the mention of the kid, Hotch noticed it. “How’s Jack? I can barely remember when the last time I saw him was was but he must be so big now.”

“He’s 14 and almost as tall as me.” A smile appeared on Hotch's face, he didn't used to smile a lot and you thought it was a bit normal considering the work that you two shared, but those times that he did you used to felt butterflies in your stomach. Still do apparently. “What about you? What are you doing here? I mean, you were more a city type of girl.”

You chuckled softly when you heard him repeating your words and you shrugged slightly, “I'm having some vacation time, it's rare to have free time at the BAU, you know? So when you do, you take it without thinking twice.”

“How’s the team doing?”

“Good. We're working on some things, going through a few changes, the usual I guess.” This time it was you who drank, taking a long sip of the margarita that was still in your hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you want to hear me talk about it?”

“Of course, unless, do you have somewhere else to be, Y/N?”

“Not anymore. We might need a few more of this though.” You pointed to the drinks on the table and flashing him a smile, catching a glimpse of his before calling the bartender and ordering another round of drinks.

And then you started talking, Hotch listening carefully to every word that came out of your mouth. You started with the cult that kidnapped Spencer and Garcia and then launching into the saga of the Everett Lynch a.k.a "The Chameleon", you mentioned how Emily is now shortlisted to be the next FBI director and how she would name JJ as the next unit chief of BAU unit, but that remains to be seen; you also talked about Garcia leaving the team to work in Silicon Valley and Hotch noticed the sad tone in your voice when you mentioned that but in part he was happy that everyone was moving forward with their lives, making new decisions and following different paths. You continued with Spencer being a consultant and teaching at the same time and finished with Rossi getting married again then talking about retirement but not fully doing it.

“That’s because Rossi’s never going to retired.” You and Hotch said in unison, laughing after noticing that.

“A lot of things had happened then.” He said, not very surprise and titling his head to one side, you nodded mutely. “But you forgot of someone, Y/N.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you. What about you? How are you?” He asked, his tone of voice changing to a concerned one.

“Oh… I, uh, I’m good.” You began but more hesitant this time, “I will never get used to the changes but its part of life so I just have to suck it up and live with it. I don’t have an outer motive yet so I'm not leaving the BAU, that's for sure. I always knew that that's where I belong and I can’t even bring myself to think about other options.”

“You have always been an important asset to the team, Y/N. The BAU is still lucky to have you.” Hotch said, still sounded like the boss but you didn’t comment anything out loud about it. Instead, you smiled kindly at him and both went silent after that, staring at each other every now and then and finishing the rest of your drinks. It was a comfortable and familiar silence, one of the many that you two used to share while working together in the office or in the long nights in the jet after finishing a case.

Your gaze swept over the bar, noticing the few people that was still there and the employees staring to clean up the place. You took at deep breath, pulling out your wallet.

“Well, Hotch, this was fun. Unexpected but fun.” You left some money under your empty cup, paying for your part of the drinks and Hotch did the same thing. “I should get going now, so—“

“Let me walk you over to your hotel.” He cut you off, grabbing his blazer from the chair and turning to look at you.

“Hotch you don’t ha—“

“Please, Y/N. I insist.” He said and his voice serious once again, just like when he used to get too bossy with the team but with a smile that contradicted that tone and you couldn’t say “no” to that.

“Alright, Sir. Let’s go.”

You grabbed your things and started walking out of the bar, Hotchner walking behind you.

                                                          ▪ ▪ ▪

The walk back to the hotel was shorter than you thought; maybe it was because you were so focused on Hotchner and the small talk that you stopped paying attention to your surroundings.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You murmur while grabbing the room key from you bag, “But you didn’t have to come up here though.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

You could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn't dare to do it and it doesn't feel good to pressure him, so you settled for just smiling at him.

And in that moment, standing in outside of you room and looking closely at him, you realized how much you missed him. You didn’t admitted that out loud after he left the BAU, you couldn’t do it because you also never fully admitted your feeling for him. Partially it was your fault, feelings were never your thing and you were afraid of what might happen if you confronted him about it so looking for excuses and reasons to not doing it always seemed easier.

For a while you truly did believed that it was just a stupid crush on your boss, something temporary, until the days turned into weeks and then months, years even, but then… he was gone.

You couldn’t really blame him for that though; he had a good reason for leaving so suddenly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Hotch finally mumbled.

You looked at him in confusion, “For what?”

“Leaving.”

“You did it to protect Jack; it was the right thing to do.” You reassure him with a smile, you unconsciously took his hand in yours. He didn’t pull away. “Don’t ever apologize for keeping your son safe, Hotch.”

“I know, choosing to be a full time dad to Jack is something I do not regret. It was something that we both needed it, especially after everything that happened with Haley.” You gulped at the mention of the name, remembering how devastated he was after her death. He took a deep breath, “But what I am trying to say is that I am sorry I didn't came back to you or the team, I should at least have called to let you know that we were fine but I got so caught up with the mundane life that it was a little too late by the time I realized about everything I left behind.”

To you.

Those two little words echoed in your head as you look at those chocolate eyes that used to drive you crazy without knowing it. You noticed that he was even closer now, slightly towering over you. It’s now or never, Y/N. You thought to yourself before speaking.

“I waited for you. I never told anyone but for a whole I waited for you to come back, hoping one day to see your demanding self in an expensive suit walking through the BAU doors again but deep down I knew that eventually I had to let you go.” You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding until now and smiled sadly, “That was easier said than done considering that I never stopped thing about it, about you. Because the true is that I loved you, Aaron. Maybe I still fucking do… but I doubt that this makes any difference now because maybe you never saw me in the same way that I saw you or just because it’s a little too late now.”

You finished and Hotch frowned, probably processing what you just admitted to him. He was silent for a few more seconds and you took it as your cue, letting go of his hand and turning around to open the door of you room. “I had an amazing night, thank you. See you around.”

But before you could even step foot in the room, you felt his hand grabbing your wrist and your chest hitting his. The next thing you knew after that was that his lips were on yours.

Aaron Hotchner was fucking kissing you after admitting your feelings for him.

He pulled away before you could react properly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours; this time he looked at you in a way that you had only fantasized about until now, there was love and lust on them and you could feel it, just all those feelings that you tried so hard to keep locked in the deepest part of you.

And that's all you needed before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and kissing him again, in a matter of seconds you two were inside the room. His lips were warm and the kiss quickly turned into a desperate one once the door was locked behind you, you could already feel yourself melting in his arms.

You didn’t even realize how it happened, but in one quick moment you were being totally pinned against the door with Aaron holding you by your thighs as your legs were wrapped around his waist. The position was now lifting your short dress, leaving your thighs even more naked but you didn't mind considering that now you could perfectly feel Aaron's hand caressing your hot skin. You move your hands from his shoulders to his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt and stripping him off it, dropping the piece of clothing somewhere in the room. As you were doing that, he broke the kiss and moved his lips to your neck, nipping and teasing the area just under your ear, turning you into a moaning mess almost immediately. The sounds being like music to his ears.

“Aaron , please.“ You moaned, this was good but you need it more. You needed him.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He asks, slightly biting the skin of your neck and you bite your bottom lip.

“Please, Sir. Fuck me.” You let out, noticing a sparkle in his eyes that you've never seen before and that only turned you on even more.

“Since you ask so nicely…” He said before walking to the other side of the room where the was a big bed in the center of it, Aaron kissed you lips and put you down in front of him, his hands moving to the zipper of your dress. “Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You asked and Aaron stares deeply at you, the sudden seriousness on his eyes making you gulp. You nodded.

“Words, Y/N. I need words.”

“I’m sure of this, yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Fuck, he was hot.

“Yes, sir.”

He bent down, his hands working on your zipper as he whisper “Good girl.” in your ear and you bite your lip once more, muffling down a moan.

He finally pulled down your dress, tossing it onto the floor completely and leaving you with only your red lace underwear; you weren't wearing a bra tonight, so you were much more exposed to him than you thought. He took one really good look at you before throwing you onto the bed, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Guess that we’re done playing around.

He kneels down on the bed, moving your legs with his knees and positioning himself between them. His hands are caressing your legs again, making their way up to the sides of your body and he leans in, kissing you again, your hands flew up to grab his hair, eagerly responding the kiss. You didn’t care how needy you seem right now, you’ve been waiting year for this, fantasizing about it, and now you had it, not really knowing for how long and that only gave you more reasons to enjoy every second of it.

“You know?,” Aaron began, his lips leaving yours and making his way down your neck, placing kisses all over your skin, “if I had know about how much you wanted me, I’ve would done something about it earlier.”

“Yeah?” You asked, arching your back as he bites one of your nipples gently, his other hand working on the other one.

“I would've pinned you down on my desk and take you right there on the office, baby. Not caring about anyone who could hear us.” He casually said, like he thought about it before and you moaned. You definitely thought about that particular situation too.

When he finally reached the place where you needed the most, he stopped and you were about to complain but Aaron shut you up by grabbing your ankles and yanking you down the end of the bed. He kneels again, parting your legs a bit more, placing one of your legs over his broad shoulders and kissing you inner thighs, slowly making his way to your soaked panties.

“I barely touch you and you’re so wet for me already?” Hotchner asked teasingly, rubbing circles with his thumb on your clit but over the fabric before taking a hold of them and ripping them out. And with no more words, Hotch held both your legs open and buried his face between them, making you moan in a matter of seconds.

He swept his tongue over you pussy swiftly, tasting my arousal first and groaning again your skin. A shiver ran through you as he stared circling your clit with his tongue and then moving down between your folds before going up again, alternating his speed and pressure.

When you thought that it couldn’t get better, Aaron proved you wrong by teasing your entrance with one of his finger and looking up at you, locking his eyes with yours. He wanted to see your reaction. You try to maintain the eye contact as he slowly started pumping his finger in and out of you, curling them an hitting the right spot, a string of cursings leaving your mouth.

It didn’t take much for your legs to start shaking around his head, the knot forming on your lower stomach.

“I’m- fuck, I’m close.” You breathed betweens moans and just when you were about to reach your high, he pulled away.

“Hold that thought, sweetheart.” He shortly kissed your mouth and you tasted yourself in his before he got up off bed, his hands immediately went to unbuckle his belt and now you took your time to watch him. From his messy hair, to the red marks on his shoulders caused by your heels -oops- and then stopped at the large bulge formed in his pants, you groaned at the sight of that.

Fuck, he is big. God, if you weren't so desperate to feel him inside you, you wouldn't hesitate to drop on your knees and start sucking him.

“Do you like what you see, sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk on his face while taking off the rest of his clothes.

“Just fuck me already, please.” You begged and he positioned himself between your legs again, but he was hesitant. “Hotch?”

“I don’t have condom on me and I doubt that you have one, Y/N. I’m clean but if you—”

“I’m clean too and on the pill so don’t worry.” You smiled at him and gave a little nod.

And apparently he was as desperate as you because at all at once, Hotch took grip of your hips and pushed inside you. You immediately arched your back, moaning loudly in both pain and pleasure, your hands grabbing the sheets at your side. You were surprise that you didn’t ripped them apart yet.

“Fuck, Hotchner.” You screamed and he didn’t move for a few seconds, letting you adjust to his size. He really is big.

“You’re so thigh, baby.” He moaned in your ear, the raspy voice sending shocks straight to your core. He was capable of making you cum by just talking.

That’s how much power he had.

And then he finally started moving, pounding in and out of you slowly at first and working his way up, picking up a pace that had you both groaning and moaning.

“F-fuck, Y/N. I love hearing you scream my name.” His lips attacked your neck again and you threw your head back against the pillows, giving him all the space that he needed to play with your neck. And he took this as a perfect opportunity to sneak his hand around it, squeezing under your jaw around enough for your eyes to roll back in total pleasure as you instinctively wrapped your finger around his wrist, holding him in place. You didn’t expect him to be into chocking but you were definitely not against it.

“Harder, S-sir. Please.”

“You’re taking it so good, just like I expected it.” He growled, pulling away enough to look at the whimpering mess that you were right now, his hand never leaving your neck as he pounded even harder into you with every word. “Calling me ‘sir’ and everything, I didn’t even had to ask you to do that. You’re such a slutty responsive whore for me, aren’t you Y/N?”

The sudden dirty words coming out of your ex-boss’s mouth did nothing but to turn you on even more, if that was possible at this point. You weren’t able to form a proper sentence so you limited to nodding and moaning his name. He didn’t like that.

“I asked you a fucking question, sweetheart, answered it.”

“Y-yes, I am, S-sir.” You chocked, the knot on your stomach forming once more and by the way that his pace flickered you knew that he was close too. “I’m close, Aaron.”

“Then cum for me, baby.” He commanded, continuing his thrusts and you were already oversensitive from his earlier work so it didn’t took you long before you started clenching around him.

“Fuck, Aaron.”

“Say it louder, Y/N.”

“Aaron!” He bottom out inside of you again and you moaned loudly one last time as your body reached its limit, hitting your climax with every nerve in you tired body.

“That’s a good girl.” He said between moans, his dick twitching softly as he release himself inside of you with one last and hard thrust.

He let go of your throat but didn’t’ pull out immediately after that. His breathing was a little erratic, his lips were red and swollen, and there was a thin layer of sweat all over his body. He looked disturbingly hot.

Of course he did. He’s Aaron fucking Hotchner.

It was as if these last 3 years had never existed.

Neither of you said a word as he slowly got up and walked into the bathroom of the room to grabbed a wet towel to clean you up, doing the same thing on him before putting back his boxers, you didn’t have the strength to grab your clothes so you just put the sheets of the bed on top of you, covering you nudity.

“Oh, sp now you’re shy?” He snorted, chuckling softly and you smiled.

“Shut up and come here.” You patted the bed and he didn’t hesitate on laying next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You felt safe, like there’s was nowhere else you rather be in that moment.

“Thank you.” He whispered after a moment breaking the silence, his face resting on your shoulder.

“For what?”

“For all of… that.”

“You’ve always have such a ways with words, Hotch.” You chuckled as you looked down at him. “Thank you for ordering my margarita in the first place.”

“It was a pleasure.”

“It really was, wasn’t it?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him in a playful way.

“How long are you staying here, Y/N?” He finally asked and you let out a tiny sigh at the question.

You knew you weren't here for a long vacation and neither was Aaron, you two have your lives outside this room , but being here now felt so good and peaceful. So… right. This, also, was probably a one-time thing, something that was destined to happen eventually, no matter how long it took.

But you didn’t want- no, you couldn’t face the fact that you may have to let him go again. Especially not after what just happened. I mean, how could you?

And little did you know that Aaron was feeling the exact same thing.

“Enough not to have to worry about it right now.” You answered with a shrug while your fingertips trace invisible circles on his back.

“Good. I can live with that, for now at least.” And then he broke the comfortable embrace by getting up and out of the bed, you furrowed you eyebrows and he extended on his hands towards you, “Come on, let’s take a shower so we can sleep properly.”

“Yes, sir.” You took his hand, getting up with his help and trying your best not to limp as you made your way to the bathroom, “By the way, where are you staying while you’re here?”

He turned around at the question, pulling you closer to him and softly kissing your lips before using a more serious tone to say, “In the room above this one.”

Of course he was. You thought while you watched as he began to prepare the bath for the both of you.

Funny how destiny works sometimes.

#cm #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x y/n #hotchner imagine #ssa aaron hotchner #sorry if this is a bit out of character #i try my best #thanks for reading

[theonewiththefanfics]

Would You Be My Little Quarantine (one-shot)

Synopsis: As the mandatory quarantine hits, the Reader is stuck in a cabin in Utah with the boys from 5 Seconds of Summer. Turns out another person is stuck in a hotel nearby. Hijinx ensue as does romance. 

Pairing: Harry Styles x f!Reader

Genre: fluff pretty much just pure, teeth-rotting fluff.

Warnings: it’s my first time writing for Harry as I was never really part of the fandom, but damn does Watermelon Sugar do things to a person, so please be kind. This is defo not my best work, but I’m slowly getting back into the groove of things, so bare with me :D

Word count: 6061

        TikTok had become Y/N’s new obsession. She’d stayed away from it as long as she could, being a true Vine generation child, she felt loyalty to the deceased app. But one night, after a long recording session, she caved. And then stayed giggling on it until the early morning when the birds started to chirp… or until Calum had taken her phone and threatened to throw it in the jacuzzi if she didn’t go to bed. 

        The girl and the four guys from 5 Seconds of Summer had been renting a cabin in the middle of the Utah woods to help them escape the distractions of the city as they recorded their respective albums, and given how they were good friends, they decided to collaborate on a few songs, and it made sense to just chill together as well.

        Which had started off Y/N’s own TikTok series, having ‘borrowed’ the idea from the Irishman living with two girls.

        “Alright, gentlemen.” She slid inside her bathroom pulling the focus of her camera on the reflection in the mirror. “I live with four guys, and I have some things to say. Why do you always, and I mean ALWAYS, leave your socks around the house? The dirty ones. You know you could just throw them in the wash… there’s an idea.”

        “We do!” Calum yelled

        Y/N turned her face to the door and hollered, “Only after I’ve asked you to!”

        “Do not!” he countered.

        “Do too!” she exited the bathroom and into the hallway only to be met with the man standing there with his hands on his hips. “Then how.” Y/N pointed the camera towards the living area you could see from where the hallways overlooked the room. “Do you explain that?” And when she zoomed in, there, in a small pile laid two brown socks, all crumpled up and almost pushed underneath one of the three couches, as if someone was trying to hide them from sight.

        Calum stammered for a bit. “Those are NOT mine.”

        Y/N flipped the camera and looked at it like they do in the Office. “Help me,” she mouthed and finished the TikTok, pointing with her hand at him. “Ya disgustin’!”

        Just as maturely as she had reacted, so did Calum by crossing his arms and sticking his tongue out, but their little bickering about whose socks they were and whose job was it to put them in the dirty wash (they were Ashton’s, and it was his job), Luke poked Y/N’s side as he came out from his room. 

        “I know might seem weird, but is there any chance another person could join our quarantine group?”

        Y/N’s eyebrows rose. Sure, the house was giant, mostly because whatever production she was a part of on Broadway, after a successful season, she invited all of them there to get away from the bustle of New York and just chill. It was in the middle of the forest, encased by gorgeous mountains and at the side of a lake where they’d go jet skiing and cliff diving.

        “I thought people can’t visit one another?”

        “They can’t,” Luke confirmed. “That’s the point. The unfortunate soul just got stuck at a hotel not too far from here, and all the flights are cancelled. Two weeks of quarantine without symptoms have been concluded, but, knowing how impossible it’d be to get to London, when you know, as I said, there are no flights, I offered a place to stay.”

        “So,” Y/N dramatically rolled her head. “You already offered to stay before asking me?”

        “Well, I knew you’d say ‘yes’ because you’re a kind, generous, amazing, smart, talented, compassionate person and wouldn’t leave someone on the streets when you know you could help.”

        “Mhm, keep talking.” Y/N squinted her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

        “Incredible, best musician I’ve ever met, how you haven’t won all of Tony’s I’ve got no idea. Your acting skills are impeccable and the movie industry is missing out on a once in a lifetime kind of a talent by not castin-“

        “Alright stop.” Y/N busted out laughing. “As long as you promise I won’t wake up with an axe in my head, ‘s fine.” 

        “Promise.”

        “Good. Also, could you please get me three bottles of that wine I like?” Y/N hollered before skipping downstairs and to the kitchen where Ashton was brewing the tenth cup of coffee. “I have a deadline in two weeks and have literally no idea where to go with the story.” She referred to the second book of her series she was writing, and now with the lockdown going on, her literary agent was breathing down her neck, and it didn’t help she hadn’t written anything in like a month and didn’t remember half of the already exiting story.

        Luke lifted a brow and hissed through his teeth. “That bad?”

        “You have no idea,” she sighed and left for the living-room where she could harass the boys for their fries and procrastinate some more. 

***

        The few hours, while Luke was away, were quite uneventful. All of them sat around on the couch pit, wrote some music, lil bit of lyrics and Y/N almost cried seeing as her characters had decided to live their own life and not obey to her story.

        “Why do you have to be such an idiot,” she mumbled under her breath and furrowed her brows as she wrote herself into a new plot hole.

        Right as Y/N was about to delete the whole chapter, the door slammed open and she heard grunting. “We’re here!” Luke hollered, and the thought of wine made her giddy, making her leap over the edge of the couch, and rush to the front door only to stop dead in her tracks. 

        Y/N’s mouth hung open, not because of who the person joining their quarantine group was, but because of what the person was. “A fifth GUY?! You didn’t tell me it’d be a guy!”

        “I didn’t think it’d matter!” Luke yelled back.

        “There’s already four of you!” She pointed back to the living room hearing loads of ‘hey!’ being shouted back.

        “Would you leave him on the streets if you’d known he was a dude?”

        “No, of course not!” 

        “Why are we yelling?”

        “I don’t know!”

        “I mean, I can leave.” Harry Styles said pointing at the door, not really knowing what to do. He certainly hadn’t expected that sort of greeting. “But I do come bearing gifts.” He lifted a black bag where a clinking of glass could be heard.    

        “No,” she sighed.  “It’s fine... I just… I just miss the company of vaginas.”

        He raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Vaginas?”

        “People I can rant to. Honestly, it doesn’t even matter if you have a vagina, as long as we can have a good rant. Especially about the gross things like having all of your dirty socks thrown around the house.” She threw Luke a look that screamed ‘I know you pushed all of them under your bed, and it’s stinking up the whole place.’

        Harry shook his head. “Ya not gonna find me leaving my clothes like that. Besides, ‘s disgusting.”

        “No,” Luke whined, “come on, man! You’re supposed to be on our side!”

        “It’s two against four,” Harry snickered, throwing his hand around Y/N’s shoulder, who gave Luke a smug grin, and it made her mimic the same expression.

        “It’s evening out. Maybe you should actually invite some other people to quarantine with us. Say, Harry, is maybe Niall in need of a place to stay?”

        Luke rolled his eyes, and shook his head, going into the kitchen and placing the food bags he’d been holding. “I hate you so much.”

        Y/N’s smile just widened.         

        ***

        “Yes, I’m still stealing your series Irishman.” Y/N zoomed in on her face. “Because now…” she looked up at the ceiling in a manner ‘someone please save me’, “I’m living with FIVE dudes. Yes, FIVE. We have an addition. And if someone doesn’t come and kill me, I will kill them.”

        “We’re not that bad!” Michael hollered form out of frame, to which Y/N yelled back, “Yes the fuck you are! Boys are gross. You do realize you’re allowed to have more than one towel. Like you DON’T have to wipe your face with a towel that’s soaked up your ball juice.”

        “It’s economy.”

        “It’s disgusting! Also.” Y/N turned the camera to Harry who was climbing up the stairs with a cup of coffee in hand. “Say ‘Hi’ to gremlin number five. He’s stolen all of my nail polish.”

        He gave a cute wave with an adorable smile, muttering an unintelligible ‘Hello’ as his mouth was stuffed with a piece of bread and a very muffled ‘You don’t even use them.’

        “Yes, but that’s not the point. Anyway,” Y/N pointed the camera at herself. “Tune in for an update whenever, as long as I haven’t strangled anyone, and pray to the heavens you don’t see my face in the papers cause the next time you do, it’ll be my mugshot for a quintuple homicide.”

        “Is that a threat Y/L/N?” Harry smirked, as Y/N walked past him and took away his cup of coffee.

        “No, it’s a promise.” She threw him a wink, leaving the Brit with his mouth open at the woman’s audacity, as she stopped the recording of the TikTok.

        “That was my coffee!”

        “Not anymore!”

        He shook his head, turning back around and going to the kitchen, seeing Y/N perched on one of the stools, neck stretching over to where Ashton was watching a video on his phone, the black liquid in his cup now a creamy beige. Harry smiled. Maybe quarantine wasn’t going to be so bad.

***

        Y/N’s head popped from the side of the door, bringing all of their attention to her. “You guys need to record anything right now?”

        Luke shook his head, signifying the band was alright before turning to Harry who mimicked him, the tapping of his pen stopping. “Why?”

        “Just got a call from Laurence, he said something’s wrong with the ‘Candy Store’ audio from yesterday. Need to rerecord it and send it over. Something about a faulty export or whatever.”

        “ ‘S all yours.” Ashton motioned to the recording booth. “Oh, but can I be Heather Duke?”

        “And can I be Heather McNamara then?” Luke piped in.

        Y/N chuckled. “Not to burst your bubbles, but you do know you won’t be in the final version?”

        “No, but we could be in THIS version. It’d be for our private files. And it’d help you.”

        “That sounds so wrong.” She grimaced. “How would that help me?” Y/N plopped next to Harry on the floor. “You’re the biggest distractions I’ve ever met.”

        Luke scoffed. “How dare you! We offer you our services of being backup singers, and you… you’re such a meanie. You’re such a Heather Chandler!”

        “It’s 2020! If Leslie Odom Jr. can play Aaron Burr, then I can play one of the Heathers! Don’t be sexist, Y/N!”

        “I never said a dude can’t play a Heather, don’t put words in my mouth. I just said last time we tried to record anything together we ended up playing SIMS for like seven hours, but… come on you two divas, get your asses inside then. But I swear if Laurence or Kevin call because one of you whispered something dirty in the background of MY parts, I will strangle you in your sleep.”

        “How little trust do you have in us?”

        “Very,” Y/N deadpanned, showing the two men inside, leaving Calum, Harry and Michael to man the production table. “If you mess with anything, your asses will be grass.” She pointed at the three and all of them put their hands up in surrender. “ ‘S bad enough you ruined my single.”

        “It’s called giving it flavour,” Calum said through the microphone.

        Y/N just responded by sticking her tongue out.

        Michael lifted his fingers, counting down from five to one, giving her the cue to start.

        “Are we gonna have a problem?” Y/N cocked her head to the side, already immersed in the character of Heather Chandler. “You’ve got a bone to pick? You’ve come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick?”

        Harry swallowed hard. 

        “I’d normally slap your face off, and everyone here could watch,” she slightly motioned with her head to the audience behind the screen, a mockingly sweet smile on her lips. “But I’m feeling nice, here’s some advice, listen up biatch.”

        When her hips started moving from side to side to the rhythm of the song, Harry swore he’d never found someone being mean (even though it was mock mean) so hot.

        “I like,” Y/N raised her voice before dropping it. “Looking hot, buying stuff they cannot.”

        There was no sight of the sweet and bubbly girl Harry had met. This was Queen-B of Westerberg High in flesh. He was transfixed. 

“I like drinking hard, maxing dad’s credit card.”

She didn’t need anyone’s credit card to pay for her things, given how she was one of the top paid Broadway singers of their generation, and something in Harry skipped a beat at how confident she looked.

        “I like skipping gym, scaring her, screwing him,” Y/N rolled the ‘r’ deeply in her throat, and he had to collect himself before his thoughts went to an unsavoury place.

        “I like, killer clothes, kicking nerds in the nose!” With a smile, Y/N pointed at Luke who only rolled his eyes. “If you lack the balls, you can go play dolls, let yer mammy fix you a snack,” she emphasised the ‘K’ after having mockingly sung the bit before. “Or you could come smoke, pound some rum and coke, in ma Porche with the quarterback.”

        As weird as it was to have the two boys be her fellow Heathers, Y/N hated to admit it did help her. It reminded her more of what it was like to be on stage before the pandemic had started and the production had to be shut down. And she missed them. All her fellow actors just as much as she missed the rush of getting on stage and losing herself in the role and atmosphere. 

        “You can join the team –“

        “Or you can bitch and moan,” Y/N’s ‘Heathers’ sang in a nasally voice

        “You can live the dream.”

        “Or you can die alone.” 

        Harry snuck inside the recording booth, picking up a pair of headphones by the drum set.

        “You can fly with eagles,”

“Or if you’d prefer,”

        “Keep on testing me,”

        “And end up like her!”

        And that’s when Harry joined in, reciting the lines of both Veronica and Martha, and when he saw Y/N keeping a palm over her mouth as she tried to keep a mean face while inevitably hiding a smile. The whole of the song, despite how Ashton, Luke and Harry had tried to make Y/N break character (she came close a couple of times), the woman stayed on the line, not missing a beat, and especially enjoying the moment where she looked at Luke, who was about to hit the high note and screaming ‘shut up, Heather!’

        Harry couldn’t help the smile splitting apart his face. When Luke had first picked up his call, having known he and the gang were somewhere in the Utah region, he had thought he’d be living with just the guys, and when he found out it was actually Y/N Y/L/N renting the cabin, the girl he’d admired for so long for how brave and utterly unapologetic she was of being herself, Harry had just thought he’d gain a new friend, not have romantic feelings spring up.

        And all of it had happened in the span of two days, not even that much. He’d arrived the evening before, had met the woman, and now it was three PM on day two and was already in love. 

        It was an exhilarating and terrifying feeling all at once. Some studies said it takes men eight seconds to fall in love, which Harry now could pretty much confirm, while it takes women generally fifteen days to fall in love. And he could only hope Y/N might have some feelings for him as well, otherwise, he’d have to scold his heart for falling quickly once again. 

***

        It was the middle of the night, wind slamming against the windows when Harry got awoken by people talking behind his door. At first, he was ready to fight, thinking immediately that intruders had come into the house, but when he heard a ‘fuck off Michael’ and a ‘you fuck off, you’re gonna ruin this’, he understood everything was fine. And he was just about to lay back down on the soft pillows, but as the saying went – curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so he threw off the covers and lightly went to the door, where a bleary Harry appeared on the stairs making Y/N and Michael whip their heads towards him and freeze on the spot. 

        “What are you two do-“ but he didn’t get to finish the question as the two co-conspirators shushed him.

        “You’re either in,” Y/N whispered harshly, “or out. Choose Styles.”

        A beat. “What kind of trouble’re we getting’ into?”

        The smile which spread on her face was nothing short of wicked. “Revenge,” Y/N hissed.

        “Be quieter than a mouse,” she whispered to him, and now the trio moved downstairs.

        “Who are we getting revenge on?” Harry spoke as quietly as he could, as they rounded the corner and exited the cabin through the back door. It was colder than he thought, seeing how the wind wasn’t warm at all, and he was grateful he’d fallen asleep in his favourite rainbow cardigan. How Y/N and Michael didn’t even shiver in their barely-there pyjamas he didn’t understand. 

        “See, Luke here thought it was a good idea to not heed my warning about not messing with my recording.”

        Harry’s eyebrows scrunched up. “He didn’t.” He knew Luke hadn’t, he was there the whole time and listened back to what they’d sung with everyone together.

        “No, but he did rename a different file with the same name I had for the 'Heathers'' recording, on MY computer, mind you. And well, let’s just say, it was not what anyone wanted to hear.”

        Harry had to swallow, as his mind went to unsavoury places, and as Y/N shimmied open the lock of the window to the studio bathroom part of the house, she looked over her shoulder to see his expression. It would seem, despite him being in ‘Dunkirk’ and having been confirmed to play Eric in the live-action ‘The Little Mermaid’ he wasn’t as good of an actor as he thought.

        “Get your mind out of the gutter,” she snickered and pulled herself inside the house through the window, Michael handing her a black duffle bag Harry hadn’t first noticed. “It was a conversation I had with my friends while we were all drunk. Some tea, some very personal tea was spilt, and so.” She unzipped the bag slowly and took out a whipped cream can. “I’m going to spill something else.”

        Canned cheese was one of the most disgusting things ever created by a human in Y/N’s opinion. So, squeezing nine cans worth of the stuff inside all of Luke’s socks, jean pockets and everywhere else possible was good enough revenge for her.

        “Why are we in the studio though?” Harry asked as the trio crept towards the bathroom door and peeked through the open sliver. It was pitch black. 

        “Because Luke teds to forget his favourite things here,” Michael explained and motioned for them to follow as he checked that the hallway was clear. It was go-time. 

        Together they all snuck back inside the recording studio, and much like Michael had said – Luke’s favourite jean jacket, a woollen jumper, three pairs of boots and shoes were all scattered around the place. He hadn’t even noticed it while they’d hung out there, but now Harry understood what Y/N was talking about while whining about the boys being messy.

        She uncapped the can and squeezed, the artificial smell of cheese wafting through the air, making her almost gag. “That’s for being a bad friend,” she muttered while filling up one shoe. “That’s for making bad jokes.” She filled up another. “And that’s for saying ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’ is an overrated song.’

        It was hard for Harry to contain the giggles, as he uncapped his own can and started filling up wherever Y/N pointed to. Did he feel bad? Sure. But was it fun to feel like a teenager in a university dorm during a prank war? Abso-fucking-lutely. And it didn’t help that he was desperately falling in love with Y/N with every second they spent together. Like she could’ve asked him to hide Luke’s corpse, and he’d say he’d take the blame for the murder if it came to it.

        “Why did we have to sneak around the place like that?” he suddenly asked, brows furrowing in concentration as he squeezed the smelly contents inside the inside pocket of the jacket. “Why couldn’t we have just walked through the house?”

        “Because Luke always and I mean always comes to the studio at 3 AM,” Y/N stated. 

        Harry looked at the clock. It was 2:45 AM already. 

        “But before that, he goes into the kitchen, makes himself a double espresso, a sandwich and eats it before going into the storage where we keep all of the instruments, which is where he is in right now. Had we snuck through the normal way, he would’ve seen us and stopped this. And that just wouldn’t fly.”

       However, it was like Luke had a sixth sense as right at that moment the light flipped on, and like deer in headlights, the trio’s heads shot up and eyes widened.

        “What the fuck!” he whispered hand extended in the direction of the already six empty cans on the floor.

        Y/N snapped out of the adrenaline induced frozen state and shrugged. “I told you not to mess with the recording.” She put her finger back on the squeezable part. “And you. Didn’t. Listen.”

        The cheese squirted out with a splutter, and all of them stood still as the final bits dropped into Luke’s black boot. “And that’s payback.”

        With a sway in her hips, Y/N exited the room, leaving the three men to gawk after her. 

God was she a hurricane, Harry thought to himself. And he’d never been as happy to be caught right in the eye of it all.

***

        The next few days all of them spent lounging around the house, recording a few songs, most of them by Harry seeing as a huge wave of inspiration had hit him, making him write more than one love song. He even asked Y/N somewhat shyly if she could do some of the backing vocals, and he swore the song went from a 3 to a 100 the second he heard her voice weave his lyrics into a symphony. 

        By that point, they’d been quarantining for a week and a half together, and a heatwave was coming up. The cabin had both an inside and outside pool which they’d all had to learn how to maintain, seeing as no one could come and do it for them, and a jacuzzi tub on the terrace. As much as the boys tried to prove they knew how to keep the places clean, ultimately it was Y/N who saved all of them from chlorine poisoning and algae overgrowth. 

        So, it was right when she pulled out the pH indicator and said it was good for use when with a scream, Luke rushed forward Y/N, rugby tackling her by the waist and plunged both of them down to the water below. 

        “You asshole!” She splashed at him, laughing and choking out a bit of water as they resurfaced. “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

        “That’s payback for the cheese.”

        She went silent for a second, but then shrugged. “Can’t say I didn’t deserve it. But you did deserve the cheese.”

        “So,” Luke extended his hand for a shake. “Do we call this even?”

        Harry exited the cabin right as both of them completely soaked to the bone jumped out onto the wood floor. He stopped mid-walk if only to control where his eyes went seeing as Y/N’s white shirt clung to her body and well… didn’t leave much for the imagination anymore.

        “Do I wanna know what happened here?” He raised a brow.

        “Retribution.”

        “Though I do gotta say, you have a funny way of getting revenge.” Y/N smirked at  Luke, making him squint down at the girl. 

        “What do you mean?”

        “I mean,” she drawled out, a mischievous smile on her lips, “that when I filled your clothes with the cheese, my stuff didn’t get stinky. And yet, from your end… I’m not the only one wet.”

        A beat passed.

        “God fucking damn it.”

        “Hey!” She pointed a finger at him. “We called a truce!”

        Luke waved her off. “Yeah yeah, whatever,” but Y/N grabbed Luke’s hand right before he went inside and squeezed it. 

“We good?”

        He sighed and smiled. “We good, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, gave Harry a quick ‘see ya later’ as well and disappeared through the glass doors. 

        Harry didn’t know what’d happened to him. He’d always been a helpless romantic, falling in love, and maybe a bit too hard at that, but this time, even without Y/N knowing about his feelings, his heart felt safe. 

        Sure, the side of her he’d seen was a complete headcase, and she had more energy than a bull with a red flag in front of it, but the utter love exuding from the woman, even while she complained about her four, well five counting him, housemates was palpable in the air. The way she hugged and made sure everyone had whatever they needed, the way she let them know if anyone needed to have a chat, she’d be there to listen, and the small little things of how she always knew what preferences they’d have for their pancakes or breakfast in general, made his heart melt. 

        “Luke’s a lucky guy.” Harry swallowed before saying that. As much as seeing Y/N be affectionate with everyone, him included, made him feel all fuzzy, a little jealousy monster did bubble up in his stomach when he saw her snuggled next to the lead vocalist of the band. He didn’t have any right to, but no matter how much he tried to repress the green beast, it still lurked somewhere deep in his heart.

        “Hm?” Y/N lifted her head where she’d been looking at the water as she squeezed it out of her shirt and up at Harry.

        He motioned with his chin to where Luke had disappeared. “He’s a lucky guy to have someone like you.”

        “Oh, we’re not together if that’s what you’re implying.”

        “I –“ he stammered. “I didn’t mean to offend y-“

        But Y/N waved him off. “You’re not the first nor probably the last person to say that. I get it. They asked me one time to surprise their fans at a concert in Connecticut, I think, and when their photographer sent over the pictures, I kinda saw what everyone kept saying, but I’ve never looked at any of them as more than a friend. Best friends, brothers maybe, but nothing more.”

        “How’d ya get so close?” Harry enquired, his chest feeling a bit lighter.

        Y/N huffed and plopped down to the ground, patting the place beside her which Harry took. “When I first went solo, right after being on ‘Beetlejuice’ I was fucking terrified. Didn’t really know anyone in the music industry like that. Being on Broadway’s different.” She shrugged. “And the award shows are different as well. Like with ‘Tony’s’ or ‘Oliver’ awards it’s you know – musical and theatre geeks. My people. But the first time I went to VMAs I almost shat myself.” She chuckled, and Harry did the same. “Didn’t know anyone at all, was petrified to even find my seat because someone told me I’d have to sit between Lady Gaga and Rihanna, and my heart was not ready for that. Ashton saw me at the edge of the carpet, creeping around the entrance and kinda…” Y/N bit her lip looking for the right words. “I dunno. They kinda took me under their wing, in a sense – if you need a friend in the industry, we’re here, that sort of thing. And ever since then, we’ve been best friends. Luke and I just got the closest because we got stuck in an elevator once for like eight hours once, and well, boredom and thinking you’re gonna die in a four by four-foot box brings people closer.”

        Harry almost choked. “Eight hours?”

        “Yep.” Y/N popped the ‘p’ and gave him a sarcastic smile. “It was like soooo much fun,” she said sarcastically.  “I totally didn’t think the elevator was about to drop from where we were up on like the sixtieth floor, and both of us were gonna get our bones smashed to pieces, and I only had two protein bars, and you know how I get without food,” she stated. He nodded.

        “Cranky.”

        “Exactly. But.” Y/N chuckled. “We didn’t die. Which’s great, not complaining, and I gained one of my all-time best friends.”

        “Well, I’m glad you didn’t die.” Harry gave her a warm smile and nudged her foot with his. “Wouldn’t have gotten the chance to meet you otherwise.”

        She nudged his foot back. “ ‘M glad I didn’t die either. And I gotta say – you’ve made this whole quarantine bearable. Sometimes it’s like fighting with four toddlers, and that’s always a futile battle. Happy to have another wrangler with me. Also an accessory to my crimes.”

        He inched his hand towards hers, and when Y/N didn’t pull away instead liked her pinkie with his, a warm feeling rushed through him.

        “Happy to be of help.”

***

It was two nights later or full two weeks since the six of them had been together when things took a turn. 

Y/N’d always been a light sleeper, especially when her life was mainly placed in New York, but now, living in the middle of nowhere, she’d been able to catch up on some sleep. That was when the sound of her door being opened made Y/N shot up in her bed, sheets clutched at her chest in a panic. “What? What’s wrong? What did Calum set on fire?”

        “Nothing.” Harry’s eyebrows scrunched up, but he decided not to ask. There was the morning for that. “This might seem weird, but could I uh could I possibly sleep in your room?”

        She blinked a couple of times, because her brain was still processing his words and if they were even English, but once they registered, Y/N nodded, pulling back her blanket and scooting over. “C’mere.”

        “Again, I’m sorr-“

        Y/N shushed him, as Harry climbed in the bed, placing the duvet underneath his arm and twisting to see her, as she mumbled, “less talk, more sleep.”

        He hummed in agreement. His eyes were heavy, in fact, they’d become heavy the instant his head had hit Y/N’s pillow, but it was like his heart, the same poor heart that’d had to deal with the newfound emotions for the whole time he’d been there, the same poor heart that didn’t know better and always gave itself away to the person it deemed to be worthy, no matter if in the end it ended up broken, took over the control of his eyes and mouth, and while slamming against Harry’s ribcage, he whispered his confession. 

        “I really like you… As more than a friend.”

        A second passed. He felt Y/N stir as she turned towards him, brow furrowed. “Sorry?”

        “I said…” He let out a shaky exhale. “I like you. I fell for you pretty much the second I entered the house and you threatened to throw me out because I was a guy. And then I fell for you when I saw you let loose in the studio. And then once more when I witnessed what your wrath entails.”

        Y/N chuckled. “Cheese.”

        “Yeah…” He let out a little laugh. “Cheese.”

        A gentle palm went to brush away the hair stuck to Y/N’s face and he swore he could just melt as she leaned into his touch. “And then I fell for you when you said yes to singing my song… when you sang the lyrics, I dedicated to you… and every second I fall for you even more… I just… I thought you should know…”

        “Well, I can only hope that you’ll take this as a compliment then, when I say I kinda like you too, Styles,” she mumbled snuggling deeper into her pillow. “Though I didn’t think I was your type.”

        “What’s my type then?” he mumbled back, letting his arms wrap around Y/N’s waist when she shuffled closer. Not only was he now fully in heaven because he was covered by the softest duvet in the world, head resting against a literal cloud, but also because his nostrils were invaded by the gentlest of smells, and the body against his was the warmest of comforts. 

        “Well, not girls like me.”

        “You mean talented, beyond funny and absolutely breath-taking?”

        “Introverted, house hermits who don’t wash their hair unless they have to go somewhere with a perchance of self-destructive behaviour. Unintentional that is.”

        Harry’s eyebrows lifted. “Would’ve never taken you for an introvert.”

        “Mmmh,” Y/N sighed, feeling his fingers skim her skin. “That’s because I’ve known those guys for years, and they’re like my brothers. Couldn’t be uncomfortable even if I tried with them. We’ve seen too much of each other. But I’m definitely an introvert. Almost had a panic attack the first time I had to make my own doctor’s appointment.”

        “You didn’t seem shy with me.”

        “That’s because for some weird reason I… I didn’t feel awkward around you. And I mean, you did bring wine.”

        She could feel Harry’s chest rumble as he laughed. “Well, I hope it helped with inspiration.”

        “Ugh, don’t remind me,” she huffed, but opened her bleary eyes and were met by Harry’s green already staring back. She couldn’t contain the giggle, and it only grew in power as he chuckled himself, making her bury her head in his chest.

        “What?”

        “Nothing,” she shook her head. “Just never thought I’d date someone from 1D.”

        “Are we below you or something?” There was no trace of malice and hurt in his voice. He knew Y/N wasn’t like that.

        “No, ‘s just my boy band phase was ‘Good Charlotte’, ‘Panic at the D!sco,’ ‘My Chem’ and the sort.”

        “So, you weren’t fainting while listening to ‘You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful’?” Harry mumbled in Y/N’s hair, sleep slowly overtaking him.

        She shook her head. “Sorry, no. Panties definitely weren’t dropping then.”

        “Are they now?”

        “According to ‘Watermelon Sugar’ you’re the one pulling all of ‘em off.”

        “Damn. Guess it’ll have to be my new challenge.”

        Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched up as she looked at him before promptly falling asleep. “Making my panties drop?”

        “Yep. But this time because of me, not Gerard Way.”

        “Bold of you to assume it was just Gerard Way. I’m a slut for all of those wizard dads.”

        By the time she slurred out the last sentence both of them had drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

***

        “They were right!” Harry shouted jumping up in the bed, startling Y/N awake once more as if something was breaking down on their heads with how urgently he jolted. “It does take women two weeks to fall in love and men 8 seconds.”

        A pillow met his face. “Fall back asleep.” 

        He leaned over her still horizontal form, a smug smile on his face. “Are you gonna make a TikTok about it?”

        “Probably ‘bout how I murdered the boyfriend I was with for three hours if he doesn’t let me sleep.”

        He didn’t argue. With a smile on his face, Harry drifted off once more. Who knew that getting stuck in a hotel somewhere in Utah would lead him to the love of his life? 

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Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines​ @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: So... I know I’ve been gone for quite a while, but that’s because I have a job now (I’m trying to get a different one that actually would involve my degree, because this one is absolutely killing me), so please be understanding with the spare posting. I still love writing fics, and as evident, I’m kina branching out into other fandoms :D

There’s a lot of things going on in my life, so if you wanna follow me you can do that on Instagram @dinnusa or @read_with_dee or on my blog dinnusa.wordpress.com :) I also have a TikTok @dinmasters

P.S. feedback is always appreciated :)

P.S.S. If you wanna be tagged please drop a message :) or if you want to be removed/ changed to a different tag list please also message me :)

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #fanfics #harry styles fandom #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #fine line #imagines #broadway #one direction imagine #five seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer #5sos #my chem #my chemical romance #gerard way #1d #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #calum hood #michael clifford

[fandomwriterstuff]

Traumtänzer (Pt. 4)

Rated T

German Translation:

Liebling - Darling

Part 3

Part 5

You were shocked, to say the least, when you arrived at an airstrip to see a private jet. You shouldn’t have been all that surprised (he’s a Baron, after all), but you were.

“So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asked, bewildered, and you trailed behind the three of them, anxious about flying.

“I am a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country,” Helmut chided him. Soon enough he’d greeted his old friend, possibly butler, Oeznik.

As you walked past him onto the jet you greeted him in Sokovian, to which he smiled brightly and offered you a bright ‘ Hello, Miss.’

When you were all seated, with champagne no less, your nerves started getting the better of you.

“Are you alright, Maus?” You couldn’t quite figure out why Helmut was speaking in English.

“The last time I was flying I wasn’t on a plane,” you mumbled and looked down, clenching your fists.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked you, leaning back in his seat.

“I mean the last time I was several thousand feet in the air I was in Novi Grad,” you shot him a glare, but you knew it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t even there. Helmut’s gloved hand encased your own and he stroked his thumb over the back of it. Ah, he’d been speaking English to make the American’s feel guilty. This was all a chess game to him. You just weren’t sure if you were a pawn or not.

“Everything will be fine, we’re safe here,” Helmut reassured you. You nodded and went to walk down the aisle and explore a bit while still listening in.

“Now, why don’t you tell us where we’re going. I’ve never heard of Madripoor,” Sam tried to steer the conversation, but Helmut was looking at a notebook he’d tucked into his book.

“I’m sorry, I was just looking at this. I don’t know what to call it but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”

You didn’t hear James’ thoughts, per se. You weren’t even looking at him. But you knew he would react, so as he jumped out of his seat you did the only thing you could think of.

Your stomach tightened and eyes closed shut as you dematerialized from one end of the jet and rematerialized right in front of Helmut. What you hadn’t anticipated was that James was going to try and choke Helmut out. What James hadn’t anticipated was you teleporting in front of his arm.

You felt as if you were watching from outside your body as your mind shut down with panic.

James’ gloved metal hand clenched around your throat for just a moment before he backed up with panic in his eyes. You couldn’t back up any further and nearly collapsed into Helmut’s lap. To save yourself the embarrassment, you panic-teleported back into your seat. It was never good to panic teleport, you could teleport into something or someone. You’d forgotten pieces of your body before. Nothing important, just the tip of a finger that would grow back or your hair. This time nothing bad happened, but your throat was screaming from the harsh metal grip meant for another. That would bruise.

You tuned out James’ angry response and Helmut’s curious gaze and curled into your seat, intent on sleeping the rest of the way to Madripoor. It was that or start crying.

Unfortunately, that meant you missed the rundown on Madripoor.

“ So, what is the plan? I missed the whole… thing,” you said, gesturing at the two men walking behind the two of you. You were headed to a luxurious hotel to get changed before the mission, but you didn’t even know what the mission was.

“ It’s going to be dangerous, but for you it will be very simple. Listen to me, alright?”

You nodded, watching his lips move as he talked. He was mesmerizing and beautiful to look at.

“ You’re going to stay by my side all night as my fiance. Your only job is to get us out of there if things go wrong. Just act the part and things will be fine,” he murmured as you entered the hotel, and you nodded. You could play pretend.

“ You should know I do have basic combat skills,” you looked up at him and shrugged. “ Also I’ve never teleported more than one person besides myself before.”

“I’m sure you can do it, liebling,” the nickname rolled so easily off of his tongue, you barely caught it. You did though, and fought the blush and rapidly beating heartbeat you suddenly were dealing with.

Sam and James went to change in different rooms, and Helmut brought you a black bag and some jewelry.

“ These are for you, I’ll wait out here and I can help you if you need anything,” you gulped but smiled tentatively as you took the items from him and changed into them in the next room.

“ Helmut?” you called, feeling foolish.

“ Yes, liebling?”

“ Can you please zip me up?” you bit your lip and glanced in the mirror to watch him walk up behind you and stand so near to you you were almost touching. You locked eyes in the mirror as one of his hands held onto the bottom of the zipper and the other gingerly drew the zipper up your back.

“ Beautiful,” he breathed the word into your ear.

“ Helmut, I…” you paused and turned, his hands falling free of your dress. You looked up into his deep brown eyes and unconsciously stuck your tongue out the tiniest bit to wet your lower lip.

“ You what, liebling?” He settled his hands on your hips, gently but firm enough that you felt grounded, secure.

“ I think I’d like for you to kiss me now,” you barely breathed the words, but he heard them and smirked.

He cupped your cheek with one hand, the other still on your hip, and pressed his lips to yours so very softly, like he was afraid you might break.

There was the sound of a distant door opening, and he leaned away from you.

“ I think you should wear this tonight, to really show that we’re engaged,” he pulled a bright engagement ring from his pocket and gently slid it onto your finger.

“ Ready to face them?” he asked you before opening the door. He waited until you nodded, and you went to meet Sam and James out in the living room.

Masterlist

#sokovia #novi grad #helmut zemo #zemo x you #zemo x reader #baron zemo #sam wilson #bucky barnes #fanfic #fanfiction

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct: Chapter 5

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 4,700 (yup, the words ran away from me!)

Warnings: Language.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something!This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

Art washes away from the soul, the dust of everyday life

Pablo Picasso

Chapter 5

Golden sunlight streams down in ribbons upon your hair, setting fire to the natural red highlights and causing the wrought iron railing to cast beautiful shadows across the floor. Marcus sits with you upon your hotel balcony in the late morning sunshine. You are now, a little more comfy, wearing your airport clothes- the high-waisted, wide-legged jeans and a mustard yellow and cream breton top that does everything to highlight the rise and fall of your curves.

He watches each tiny twitch of your face as you read notes from the meeting- your full lips pout and brow furrow as your gaze flits backwards and forwards over the words, making connections and drawing together the different pieces of information that you’d gathered from that meeting. Marcus tries to smother a chuckle when you unthinkingly roll your eyes and shake your head at the point where some idiot tried talking over you in the meeting and he can fully read from his position that you have scrawled TWAT across your notes in reference to that mediocre white man.

It’s at this sound, that you look up, “What’s up?” you ask tiredly, smiling amusedly in his direction.

“You’ve got such an expressive face as you read- I swear, it’s like your muscles are reliving all of the faces you wanted to pull in the meeting. You managed that jerk well in there.”

“I’ve been managing cockwombles like him my entire life. They’re fucking insidious,” you say turning your eyes back towards the screen, shaking your head at the memory of the all the arseholes who have gone before and all those who were yet to come. “If they had anything to actually offer, I’d accept it; but they just parrot shit back at you - the same shit that came out of your own mouth moments earlier - as if it is their fucking own, enlightened idea!”

“I can imagine.This level of work, even in the art fraud department, is such an old boys’ club,” he agrees, pursing his lips in annoyance of the invisible barriers that you must have come up against.

Nodding in agreement, you add with your head tilting to one side as you take the agent in, “You don’t seem to fall into that category, Marcus. You even handed the reins over to me in there- I should have just been your lackey today, not the one doing all the speaking. I appreciate you treating me like an equal.”

Rolling his shoulders and stretching the sides of his neck, Marcus looks off into the distance as he slightly straightens up in his seat, “My Mamá firmly entrenched the value of every human being in me, regardless of their gender. I don’t wanna bring it up again, and certainly never wanna upset you, but you should be my role in the team. Your aptitude for this role far outweighs mine,” he grins and turns towards you, “There’s a part of me that feels like a mediocre white man around you.”

“Well, at least you have decent enough manners not to mansplain my ideas back at me!” you laugh, hugely enjoying your boss’ company on that narrow balcony.

“You know, I didn’t recognise you wearing civvies in the airport? I was absolutely kicking myself for not taking a ride with you to the airport.”

“Yeah, I get that. After seeing me suited and booted, it must have been a shock to see a jet-lagged, middle-aged man in old jeans and a hoodie,” Marcus humbly chuckles, shaking his head.

“Are you digging?” Your eyebrow arches high on your brow as you interrogate him teasingly.

“What do you mean digging?” Marcus furrows his brows as his eyes widen innocently.

“Digging for a compliment, you daft thing!”

“Hah, no! I meant it honestly. Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and don’t even know the reflection that stares back at me,” he replies, shaking his head sadly.

“Pssh, you have nothing to worry about. Some of us can only dream of looking as put together as you. I generally look as though I crawled through an art studio backwards even if I use an iron and put make-up on- in fact, scratch that- I look worse if I iron and put effort into how I look,” you exhale despairingly at the memory of all the other immaculate recruits and your general throw-it-on, it’ll-do appearance. “Everyone else in my family is so incredibly smart- immaculate even- and yet, I stick out like a sore thumb. Like I didn’t quite pass the expectations of what it takes to be an adult. I swear that’s the reason my aunties think I’m not married.”

Marcus huffs a gentle laugh, “I think that’s a big part of it for me. For the amount of grey in my hair and the creases in my skin, I’m not where I expected to be at this point in my life.”

“Where did you expect to be, Marcus?” You cock your head to one side, listening intently.

A buzz suddenly emerges from your phone:

« On est en bas! »

“Ah they’re downstairs- but do not think for one second that this conversation is over,” you wag your finger in Marcus’ direction as you gather your belongings, “We will continue this later.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Marcus mock salutes you and clicks his heels together as he rises from his chair with a huge crunch from his knees, “See, what did I tell ya? Old. I’m gonna grab my things.”

Grabbing your trusty rucksack from the floor of the balcony as Marcus departs, you feel almost reluctant to leave the balcony and the conversation that you were having with him. Since he’d helped you through the anxiety attack prior to re-entering your old workplace, the two of you had found an ease in being around each other. Whilst you are dreaming of spending a day chatting with Marcus, he’s already back with a small smile and a soft look about his eyes as he catches you staring into space.

Walking through the hotel, Marcus and you could be thought of as any pair of friends on holiday with your giggles and gentle jibes towards each other as you walk down endless corridors to find the exit. There is no way that anyone would have said that you had met barely twenty-four hours before or that you were there as business associates with the easy air you treat each other. After crossing the elegant lobby, you finally reach the doors to the outside world, a wave of relief coursing through you to see that you didn’t have to make a decision as to which way to open the door as there is someone to do it for you.

As you reach their car, Jacques takes off his seatbelt and makes to get out of the car but Marcus waves him off, opening the door for you to jump into one of the back seats.

“Oh you weren’t kidding about the stickiness,” you mercilessly tease the pair sitting in the front seats. Élodie responds by sliding her front seat back as far as it can go and you yelp in surprise at the sudden crushing of your legs, slamming your fist on her headrest in mock anger.

“Please excuse the children, Marcus,” Jacques shakes his head and sighs deeply but Élodie reaches over and squeezes her husband’s thigh in a way that makes him yelp and laugh in the same breath.

Marcus and you catch each other’s eyes and grin at the playfulness. You might be here on business but at least you can enjoy yourselves at the same time. The stresses of the morning slowly ebbing from your mind, you stretch out, resting your head against the cool glass of the window and allow the hum of the car engine and gentle chatter to surround you, lulling you off to the sleep you had missed out on the night before.

✪✪✪✪✪

Something is tenderly brushing against your cheek and you instinctively nuzzle into the warm touch as your eyes start to open and the world begins to regain its focus, “Hey, sleepyhead! We’re here,” Marcus murmurs as he strokes your cheek with his thumb to rouse you from your slumber.

“Shit. Sorry. Sorry,” you rub your eyes with your knuckles trying to rid yourself of the embarrassment of snuggling the fingers of your new boss, noticing that Élodie and Jacques have already left the car.

“No worries, your snores were pretty cute,” the agent teases you gently with a lopsided grin crossing his face.

“Lies! I don’t snore.” you exclaim indignantly at the accusations, but glad he hasn’t focussed on your reaction to him caressing your cheek, as your faculties start to kick in, reaching for the door handle to escape Marcus’ jokey impressions of your snores.

The mountain air in Grenoble strokes its icy fingertips against your neck, making you wrap the woolly softness of your cardigan more tightly around yourself. You notice Marcus also zipping up a black leather jacket over his hoodie. In the open boot of his car, Jacques concentrates on making a roll up next to a small bag of resources for you - cotton gloves, sample pots, tweezers and magnifying glasses.

“s'il vous plait, Marcus. Before we do anything else, I need to borrow your muscles,” Élodie announces to him, “We need coffee, and if I know that woman standing next to you, she will be in need of one, too!”

At Élodie’s statement, you watch Marcus’ face crease into a small smile, flashing that lovely dimple, as he crosses his arms across his chest. You wonder whether he's protecting his clothes from your next caffeine hit or trying to steel himself for the latest cheeky wink coming from Élodie. A slightly raised eyebrow is sent in your direction as his boots softly stride behind the clack of her heels upon the pavement.

A waft of tobacco drifts through the air as Jacques lights up as you watch his wife and your boss walk off in the direction of coffee.

“You left us, Nush,” Jacques scratches his nose as he looks at you through a cloud of smoke he has exhaled, “You disappeared. Literally, disappeared to the point that none of us could track you down.

“I mean, it is testament to what an incredible agent you are that you can just make yourself that invisible but…” he takes another inhale of the cigarette as he turns his shoulders to mirror your position, “But you weren’t even there for Jasper’s funeral.”

Silent rivers course down your face, “Please, Jacques. Don’t make me do this now. I can’t do this right now. Let me find my feet before we get into all of this. This is my first job since everything,” your hands trembling as you gesture wildly in the air. “I want to explain. I missed you both so much but I can’t right now. It isn’t the right time.”

Nothing more is said between the two of you as you both sit silently next to each other. Jacques nods contemplatively whilst he carries on sucking at his cigarette for comfort and release from the tension that has built upon his face. In the relative safety of the car boot, as he reaches across what feels like a chasm between you to pat your thigh, you can see the hurt searing through his eyes.

How did Imanage to destroy so much?

✪✪✪✪✪

Marcus wonders how you are doing. He keeps looking back at you until you fade from his sight just to make sure that you are ok. He swears that he saw your shoulders and head drop as they seem to whenever you’re reminded of whatever those ghosts are that you haven’t managed yet to lay to rest.

“She’ll be ok with Jacques. Those two are like brother and sister, you needn't worry,” Élodie pats Marcus’ arm as she points in front of her, nodding towards a cafe. Seeing a small tic in his jaw, she adds with a small smile, “She’s special to you, non?”

After Marcus holds the door for Élodie, he shoves his hands in his pockets and pauses before saying, “Yeah. She is. I don’t think in all my years of working as an agent, that I’ve ever met someone like Anushka. Listening to her speak about art and the various different forgeries… it just transports me to a place... I’m not just in the museum seeing the original masterpieces. It’s not even just that I can see those pieces in front of me. Just by her words bringing them alive, I become part of the art. Her passion and knowledge is infectious and she cannot help but to enthuse everyone around- she is truly gifted.”

“Anushka is incredibly talented. She was born to be in the role but I would say that’s not the only way that you think she’s special,” Élodie gently analyses as she squeezes Marcus’ arm seeing a moment of panic cross his face- she tries to swallow down a laugh at how he looks like a little boy caught with his hand in the biscuit tin, “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word to Nush- she can be a bit like a wild animal at times. It can take time to earn her trust. The 5 Eyes team is separate from Mi5, non?”

Marcus’ brow furrows, “Yes, we work under slightly separate parameters as we work across five agencies across the world- sort of similar to Interpol. Why d’ya ask?”

“Ok, so if you were to start anything with her- if anything were to be allowed to develop between the two of you, could it result in disciplinary action or her losing her role? Hang on,” she pauses as the assistant behind the glass shelf raises their eyebrows in Élodie’s direction, alerting her that it is time to order, « Bonjour, quatre cafés s’il vous plaît »

Marcus adds « Et je voudrais deux pain aux raisins aussi, s’il vous plaît. »

“Oh, I didn’t realise that you spoke a little French- a man of many talents,” Élodie teases with a wink as she grabs her purse from her bag, “And let me guess, the food is to try to stop Nush from burning herself or you? That woman is a nightmare with drinks.”

Reaching across Élodie,who is about to tap her card to pay, Marcus passes the cashier a couple of notes that more than cover the total, grabs the coffees and goes to leave, holding the door open with his elbow. “Why d’you wanna know about how interdepartmental relationships are viewed?”

The creases on Marcus’ brow deepen as yet another hint of whatever plagues your past troubles his mind due to Élodie’s words, “It is not my story to tell, and I’m not sure I even have half of the facts but please be gentle with her. Come what may between the two of you.”

“Oh, look who’s come to join us!” Looking up after a sharp nudge to his ribs alerted him to speak no further, Marcus sees Jacques tucking a piece of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes behind your ear, then pulling your hunched shoulders into a side on shoulder hug as Élodie grabs a coffee and mocks throwing it in your direction, to which you stick your tongue out. You are so busy messing around with the pair of them that you don’t notice the tenderness in Marcus’ eyes or the smile that creeps across his face as he watches how your friends behave around you.

“So are we ready to look at a slab of meat? I hope you’re not a vegetarian, Marcus,” Jacques chuckles freely at the thought of the tall, broad American becoming queasy at a graphic painting depicting the decomposition of a piece of carrion.

“Oh no, I love rare steak far too much, and I’ve spent way too long researching art to be weirded out by a bit of expressionism,” Marcus adds before taking a long gulp of coffee, “I must admit that I’m not terribly confident in my knowledge of Soutine other than he liked painting rotting meat.”

Jacques smiles and gestures his head in your direction, “Nush- time to shine, chérie.”

“So - Soutine was a Russian painter, who made massive contributions to the Expressionist movement whilst based in Paris. I don’t want to teach you to suck eggs so please tell me to shut up if you already know it but expressionism was a modernist movement, initially in poetry and painting, originating in Germany at the beginning of the 20th century. Its typical trait was to present the world solely from a subjective perspective, distorting it radically for emotional effect in order to evoke moods or ideas. Expressionist artists sought to express the meaning of emotional experience rather than physical reality so you needn’t worry about the depictions of rotting meat as it isn’t like an anatomical drawing you’d find in a copy of Grey’s Anatomy or anything.”

Pausing to draw a breath, you look up to check Marcus’ face- that you aren’t boring him to death- and see two dark eyes, flecked with amber, that are entirely focussed on you. His entranced gaze makes you shift awkwardly, eyes dancing around the street to try and focus on something other than him under the sheer intensity but you decide to continue, “He’s quite an interesting character in regards to our case as he was good friends with Modigliani, who we know is another one with multiple fraudulencies of his works as well as our link we made in the meeting that our main faked pieces being sold by our group are by European Jews.

“Soutine seldom showed his works, but he did take part in the important exhibition The Origins and Development of International Independent Art held at the Galerie nationale du Jeu de Paume in 1937 in Paris, where he was at last hailed as a great painter but sadly soon afterwards, France was invaded by German troops and obviously as a Jew, Soutine had to escape from the French capital and hide in order to avoid arrest by the Gestapo. He moved from one place to another and was sometimes forced to seek shelter in forests, sleeping outdoors. Suffering from a stomach ulcer and bleeding badly, he left a safe hiding place for Paris in order to undergo emergency surgery, which ultimately failed to save his life.

“The main thing that you two need to know,” you add as you reaffix your focus and run your eyes between Marcus and Jacques, ”Is that Paul Guillaume was the main dealer of his work. Straight after World War 1, he was Soutine’s biggest cheerleader and landed him a major deal with the American collector, Albert C Barnes. If you manage to track it back to either of them, you’re pretty much at ground zero- back at Soutine’s own easel- and don’t need to worry much about further certification of validity as it being one of his pieces.”

Standing in the street in front of the cafe, you discuss between the four of you who will focus on which part of the checking for verification of the piece.

Marcus and Jacques decide to focus on the provenance of the piece and to be honest, you’re relieved to be free from the paperwork trail. The idea of searching through the records of previous ownership, fills you with utter dread at missing something that would prove that it was a fake. You’d hope that each piece could be instantly traceable back to the moment where the original had been removed from the easel by the artist but that is so often far from the truth of the situation as records are often lost or aren’t even kept in the first place with only a handshake to move the piece to the newest owner. When certain disreputable organisations or untrustworthy governments seek to obscure the origins of pieces, it is nothing but doors being slammed in your face and labyrinths created from lies and deliberate obfuscation.

“Ok, so Nush and I will collect samples from the piece. I’ll then use the microscope to check the samples for any irregularities in the craquelure in the craquelure while madam here uses the stereo microscope to check the layers of paint,” Élodie gestures towards you, passing a plastic case over containing your equipment. “Obviously we won’t be able to do an x-rays, infrared or mass spectrometry tests as they aren’t so portable but if we cannot confidently say the painting isn’t a forgery, then I suggest we get a courier to take it back to Lyon for us.”

“Agreed, I think that would be the best use of everyone’s talents here,” Marcus replies, nodding, “Are we far from the auction house?” to build up a more 3D picture of the piece. D’accord??” Élodie checks as she grabs a coffee and starts to walk off in the direction of the auction house with Jacques beating a steady path behind her.

With a small gesture of his hand, Marcus waves you forward and as you take a step in the same direction as your friends, a small white paper bag with a telltale sticky stain seeping through that you hadn’t noticed being held out, taps you gently against the soft curve of your tummy. With a confused look knitting across your face.

Marcus boyishly grins back at you as he takes a bite out of his pastry, “Last set of clean clothes, gotta take calculated risks with you around.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Slightly arched windows with flaking grey paint allow a small amount of crisp mountain light to trickle into the mellow gloom of the Aladdin's cave that stretch out in front of Marcus’ eyes. As far as his eyes can see, gilt framed pictures playing out a multitude of scenes from people’s lives- some more parochial and some edging to the more abstract- bedeck the walls. A goat playing a violin, a horse in a field and a lady all in blue with sad eyes and a nose twisted closer to her ears are all jostling for positions in the party on his senses. Every single nerve in his body tingles with excitement at the treasures surrounding him on all sides. The busy-ness did not stop at the walls as every surface of the room was covered in objets d’art with exquisitely fashioned chairs, tables and armoires creating an increasingly impossible maze to step through across the floor. Even the exposed beams of the ceiling felt the need to be a part of this gentle assault upon the eyes, protruding above his head, lending an elegant set of vertebrae to the room.

Marcus thinks he’s hiding his giddiness well until he catches Anushka looking at him with an amused grin upon her face. He goes to respond but initially struggles to find the words to explain the eagerness that is written across his face, his mouth stretched in a childlike grin, eyes lit up and hands that tremble and flex with anticipation. A small smile from her and the light squeeze upon his arm told Marcus that he needn’t worry about explaining anything. Even though the touch was slight and momentary, it cut through the overstimulation of the room and it takes every bit of self control he owns to not throw his arms around her and hug her tightly. Don’t mess this one up too, Pike.

Reopening his eyes, an elegant chignon of hair and high cheekbones makes its way through the clutter of Marcus’ thoughts and extends a delicate, papery hand in greeting. The owner seems to glide through the objects around her, obviously confident of the dead ends and exit points between the items as she leads you to a small office where a tidy pile of papers and a small computer await your services.

«Madame, comprenez-vous que l'utilisation de ces méthodes scientifiques ne peut que prouver que le tableau est un faux? On ne peut pas prouver si une pièce est authentique.» Madam, do you understand that using these scientific methods cannot prove if a painting is a fake? rubbing his brow, Jacques tries to explain to the owner of the auction house, «Même si les résultats de tous les tests scientifiques indiquent qu'il n'y a pas de tromperie dans l'œuvre d'art, nous ne pouvons pas dire sans l'ombre d'un doute qu'il ne s'agit pas simplement d'un cas d'un faussaire dépassant la détection scientifique.» Even if the results of these scientific tests show that there is not a forgery in this work of art, we cannot say without a shadow of doubt that there is not simply a case of a forger out-pacing scientific detection.

Marcus nods in agreement with the agent’s words. He hates the dishonesty of it all- the obviously incredibly talented painters creating mimicries and mockeries of the original pieces. As the owner spins out of the room, Jacques notices the frown painted on Marcus’ face and the tic in his jaw as he starts to flick through the portfolio of papers in front of him.

“Hey, what happened to the giddy boy in the sweetshop back there?” Jacques teases, gently punching him on his shoulder.

Rubbing his fingers along the side of his nose before scratching the patchy scruff that lines the edge of his jaw, Marcus smiles, “Hah! That obvious, eh? Just, kinda wishing that we weren’t even necessary.”

“Yeah, it is irritating but it does pay my mortgage,”Jacques chuckles deeply, “And to be honest without it, I wouldn’t have met that woman in that lock up over there and convinced her that she should marry me or have my baby.”

A pang of jealousy hit Marcus hard, “You’ve done well then. Mine just pays a mortgage on a place in DC that I won’t even be living in for the next couple of years.”

“Never wanted to or the opportunity never arose?” Jacques quizzes not lifting his eyes as he reads through documents.

“Your setup with Élodie is something I’d love to have,” he nods sadly, “Just have one failed marriage - due to her infidelity and lack of wish to try and work things out, and a failed engagement as she was in love with another man - to my name. No, I’d love to have that vulnerability and affection with someone again. Kinda feels like a pipe dream now- not sure anyone would want to take on someone with such a creased up, greying ol’man.”

“Hah, have you forgotten my wife’s quite genuinely visceral reaction to meeting you?” Jacques laughs heartily, rolling his eyes at the mere suggestion from Marcus, “Believe me, you do not have anything to worry about there. It’ll happen. Usually- in fact, always, when you least expect it.”

With a soft huff and a slight lift from the left side of his lips, Jacques strains to hear Marcus’ whisper, “I truly hope so.”

“Hang on, whose name was it that we were looking for that would pretty much guarantee authenticity?”

Jacques’ face creases in concentration as he tries to rack his brains for the names Nush had provided earlier, “Bof...Paul something-or-the-other French and Albert something-or-the-other American, I think.”

“Hmmm, I think I’ve a document here with both of their names on it… Shall we go share it with the ladies?”

«Bonne idée. On y va. » Good idea. Let’s go.

Grabbing the pile of documents from the polished walnut bureau, there’s a sweet bubble of excitement building in Marcus’ tummy. Try as he might to convince himself that it was on account of being out of the tiny office and back around an exquisite masterpiece from the early twentieth century, deep down he knew there was another sweeter, more ancient and primal reason that made him want to be in the lock up.

My beautiful taglist: @astroboots @silverwolf319 @lunaserenade @danniburgh @leonieb @mrsparknuts @sirowsky @yespolkadotkitty @agirllovespancakes @tardisfangurl @mouthymandalorian @the-ginger-hedge-witch @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

If you’d like to be added or dropped from the tag list or have any thoughts, thots or suggestions, please do get in touch! I don’t bite hard 🥰

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x oc #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #the mentalist fanfic #pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ppascaledit

[fromthedeskoftheraven]

We’ll always have Paris

Pairing: Marcus Pike x female reader

Content: Kissing, shameless fluff, a little food, Marcus is the perfect boyfriend who will ruin you for all other men, in this house we have utter contempt for Teresa Lisbon

Word count: ~2200

Note: So...I don’t even go here and I was supposed to be plotting a novel, but I sat down at the computer and this came out instead. That sound you hear is my clown shoes squeaking all the way back to my desk to work on what I was supposed to be doing in the first place.

I hope you won’t mind if I tag the little handful of people I know in the Pedro fandom who’ve been so kind to chat with me, tag me in their wonderful fics, and help me fall into various pits ;) @buckstaposition @songsformonkeys @yespolkadotkitty @chaotic-noceur and the lovely @keeper0fthestars who’s been #goals as a writer and a human being since our Hobbit fandom days.

----------------------------------------------

“Hey, sweetheart.”

The smile in Marcus’s voice makes you cradle the phone to your cheek, as if it would bring him closer.

Mirroring that smile, you lean in to breathe the scent of peonies from the lush bouquet that dominates your desk. “The flowers are gorgeous. Thank you so much.”

“I hoped you'd like them.”

“I love them.” You glance up from your desk. “Half of the office is asking if you have any single brothers.”

His laugh is warm, delighted, a little bit husky. “Well, I wish I could have given them to you in person, but delivery will have to do for now.”

“I miss you,” you lament.

In theory, Marcus’s week-long work trip to Paris had sounded like a quick jaunt. In practice, however, the days have dragged, leaving you craving his touch, his scent, the warmth of his gaze.

A sigh buffets the phone. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He laughs again. “The most romantic city in the world and I’m here by myself. Next time I’m bringing you with me.”

Your heartbeat quickens with the instant fantasy of sharing walks along the Seine, museum crawls, and plush hotel beds with Marcus. “I might have to hold you to that.”

“Baby, you can hold me any way you want.”

It’s your turn to laugh at the pickup-line tone he’s adopted. “Smooth, Agent Pike. How’s the work side of things going?”

“Not bad,” he says. “We’ve got some hard intel on the gang we’ve been looking at, so I’m calling it a success.”

“I’m glad. And I’m even more glad Friday’s only two days away, I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Speaking of Friday, I was thinking.” There’s a faint shuffling of papers on the other end of the line. “What do you say we have dinner at my place? I’ll get takeout and we can just relax, watch a movie, whatever you want. I just want to be with you.”

“That sounds perfect,” you say, and mean it. To hell with reservations and nice clothes, you just want to cuddle up to Marcus and soak him in, make up for lost time.

“Great.” There’s a pause, and when he speaks again his voice is lower, closer to your ear. “I was also thinking...if you want, I’d love to have you spend the night. Only if you want to, no pressure,” he hurries to add.

A tendril of warmth unfurls in your chest with his words.

Your first date with Marcus was a couple of months ago, the day after you’d met at a party at a mutual friend’s house. Truth be told, you’d fallen hard and fast for him, but Marcus had been open from the beginning about the previous relationships that had ended disastrously and left him gun-shy.

With each new piece of your heart he effortlessly stole, you’d tried -- and failed -- to imagine what woman would be fool enough to walk away from Marcus Pike.

Between his wariness of rushing you and a job that claims so much of his time, you’ve yet to go beyond making out like teenagers. You learned quickly that Marcus is a devastating kisser, and the little taste of what his gorgeous, clever hands can do has had you dreaming of what he’s like in bed. Now, the prospect of finding out fills your stomach with butterflies.

Really aroused butterflies.

“I’d love that too,” you answer him, without hesitation.

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.” You lose the last half of the word to a breathy laugh. “I hope you know my productivity is a lost cause for the next two days, I won’t be able to think about anything else.”

“You and me both,” he practically purrs, in that rough-edged baritone that never fails to make heat blossom in your core.

“I guess I’d better let you go,” you sigh. “But thank you again for the flowers, and I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too, sweetheart. I’m going to go grab some dinner and turn in early, tomorrow’s going to be busy. I’ll be sure to call you when I land on Friday.”

“Fly safe.”

There’s that smile again. “Yes, ma’am.”

-----------------------

You’re buzzing with anticipation as you knock on the door of Marcus’s apartment, balancing a grocery bag in your arms along with your overnight bag. Marcus had promised via text to make breakfast for you, claiming it was his signature meal, but you couldn’t resist the urge to bring along a few extra treats. If anyone deserves to be spoiled, it’s him.

The door opens and your breath catches in your throat, just like it did the first time you saw him.

From his artfully tousled dark hair to his warm, black-coffee eyes to the beaming smile that dimples his cheek, he’s beautiful, and a week apart has made him even more so. Impossibly broad shoulders make a gray t-shirt sexier than it has any right to be and his long legs are encased in fitted dark jeans, and if he’s jet-lagged he wears it unreasonably well.

He ushers you inside, whisks the bags from your hands to the kitchen counter, and before you can say a word you’re enveloped in his arms.

You splay your palms on his muscled back and bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his warm skin and a faded kiss of cologne. His heartbeat thrums steadily, soothingly against you as he just holds you, swaying slightly on the spot.

“Missed you,” he finally murmurs, with a press of lips into your hair.

You pull away enough to look into his face, bringing your hands to frame his cheeks. Those dark eyes are soft with contentment and just touching him, breathing the same air, you’re nearly delirious with happiness.

“Kiss me, Agent Pike.”

Marcus is nothing if not accommodating.

His lips are soft and warm and insistent on yours, his arms strong around your waist, pressing you close to him. He teases at the seam of your lips with his tongue and lets you swallow his low groan when you open for him. The smell and taste and feel of him flood your senses, and every greedy rush of your pulse says mine.

You only part when you’re both gasping for breath, laughing a little together at your eagerness.

Marcus nuzzles your nose with his. “Are you hungry? I got sushi from your favorite place.”

“Starving,” you confess.

He lets you go with a last trail of his fingertips over your spine. The brown paper bag you brought in with you catches his eye. “What’ve you got there?”

“Just a little something for tomorrow morning.” With a flourish, you pull out a bottle of champagne and another of orange juice. “And I got you some cookies from that bakery you like, but you can save those for later.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“No such thing,” you insist.

You open the refrigerator, pushing aside a new carton of milk and a tub of salad greens to put the mimosa ingredients to chill. Bustling to his little pantry, you tuck the box of cookies away for him and fold the bag to put it in the drawer where he stashes them. When you look at Marcus again, he’s watching you with a fond expression that makes your heart do a somersault against your ribs.

He’s smiling as he comes to wrap his arms around you again. “I like seeing you here, in my place.”

Pulling him closer, you press a kiss to the bridge of the hawkish nose you love. “I like being here.”

Marcus rewards you with a brush of his lips over your forehead before sliding his hand down your arm to lace your fingers together. “Come on, let’s eat,” he says, with a grin. “No starving on my watch.”

You let him lead you to the table, where he’s got a veritable feast laid out. All your favorite kinds of sushi, steaming miso soup, salt-flecked edamame...when your stomach growls, he laughs and pulls out your chair before sitting beside you and passing you some chopsticks.

Over dinner, you trade stories from your week apart. His are vastly more exciting than yours, but still he listens intently, asks questions, laughs in all the right places, because that’s Marcus.

He lights up when you ask him all about Paris, even breaking his own “no phones at dinner” rule to scroll through his camera roll and show you a few of the best pictures he took. His passion for art and architecture and the little vignettes that get lost in everyday life makes him even more gorgeous, and you must be making heart eyes, because he dimples with a small smile as he puts the phone aside.

“What’s on your mind?”

I adore you, you think, but you swallow the words and settle for a half-truth. “I wish I could have seen it with you.”

“I do too.” He pushes back his plate and takes your hand in his on the table. “I meant what I said. I’d really like to take you with me sometime.”

You’re suddenly shy under his confident, unhurried gaze, and find his smile contagious even as your cheeks warm. The moment lingers, tender and expectant, while his thumb moves in gentle strokes over the back of your hand.

He breaks the spell, giving your hand a squeeze as he gets up from the table and draws you with him into the living room. You settle on the couch together, but before you can properly nestle into him he reaches for a small, wrapped package on the coffee table.

“I brought you something,” he says, sliding the parcel toward you with a grin.

You don’t even try to hide your excitement. Marcus has impeccable taste, and he knows it. He looks even more pleased with himself when you kiss him once, twice, before turning your attention to the present in your hands.

The paper falls away to reveal a flat jewelry box, and inside, on a bed of black satin, is a dream of a necklace: a small, delicate gold disk pendant, set with a halo of tiny emeralds that sparkle in the light. It’s elegant and understated and it couldn’t be more perfect if you’d chosen it yourself, and you tell Marcus so amid more grateful kisses.

“Help me put it on?” you ask at last, turning to sit facing away from him.

Carefully, he takes the necklace from its box and clasps it at the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine by trailing his lips in the golden chain’s wake. “It looks even prettier on you,” he murmurs into your skin.

“I’m going to wear it every day,” you promise, leaning into him as he kisses his way to the sensitive spot just under your ear. “Marcus, it means the world to me that you were thinking of me while you were there.”

He laughs a little against your neck, the puff of breath raising goosebumps. “Of course I was. I’m never not thinking about the woman I love.”

For a moment, the world stops spinning. The tightening of his hands on your waist tells you the words have slipped out of their own accord, the kind of rogue emotional impulse he works so hard to keep locked down.

He loves you. Marcus loves you.

When you turn around to face him, he looks rueful, almost apologetic. “I hope it’s not too soon. I don’t want to come on too strong, but I know what I feel--”

You cut him off with a kiss.

It takes him a second to catch up, but when he does, he goes all in. Strong arms pull you into his lap, his fingers tangle in your hair, and he just melts into you, kissing you like his life depends on it. Maybe it does.

“Marcus,” you breathe against his lips.

He pulls away, just enough to look at you. You feel as much as hear his questioning hum.

You stroke his cheek, trace your thumb over the place where his dimple hides. “I love you, too.”

You’d swear the brilliance of his smile could power a small town.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” You laugh a little. “If I’m being honest, I started falling for you at Melissa’s party.”

Marcus quirks an eyebrow in surprise.

You shrug. “Can you blame me? You were handsome, smart, funny. Dead sexy in your leather jacket.”

He looks away, smiling sheepishly, but your finger on his chin brings his gaze back to yours.

“But I also noticed you had kind eyes,” you go on. “You asked me questions and really listened to the answers, you walked me to my car when I left...you fed Melissa’s dog a piece of cheese from the charcuterie board when you thought no one was looking.”

He winces. “He was making sad eyes at me.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Marcus, you were a gentleman. Not because it was going to impress anybody, but because it’s just who you are. So, yeah, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world when you asked for my number. And I promise you’re not going to scare me off, because when I dream about the future, you’re in it.”

For a long moment he just looks at you, emotion swimming in the dark depths of his eyes. “How did I get so lucky?” he finally asks. He pulls you closer against him. “I love you. I really do.”

You all but whimper his name as he sweeps you into another kiss, a hot, hungry press of lips and tongues and murmured praise that feels like the love child of a caress and a thunderstorm. When his hands trail lightning over your skin and you manage to babble something that sounds like “please,” Marcus breaks from you just long enough to get to his feet, helping you up before he’s kissing you again, gently guiding you toward the hallway.

Your blood is singing in your veins, and if someone offered you a winning lottery ticket it would be ashes compared to what you’re holding in your hands right now.

Marcus’s sigh is the sound of perfect happiness as he tears his lips from you and presses his forehead to yours at the threshold of his bedroom.

“Sweetheart, I told you I love you.” His voice is smoke and honey. “Now I want to show you.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x female reader #the mentalist #pedro pascal #the mentalist fanfic #marcus pike fanfic

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 4

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

The meeting! always a precious moment when you see your child for the first time. Although they usually aren't 18 when you do, and you usually know they are your child too!

First< Previous> Next

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“Marinette! Marinette! Wake up!”

“Five more minutes Tikki,” Marinette groans, rolling over.

“This is why I wanted you to come back earlier,” The Kwami chastises.

“Uhhhhggghh,”

“Marinette!” Chloe bursts through the door, Tikki darting off to hide, “Get up, get ready,”

“Nooo- Hey! Chloe,” Marinette tries to tug the blanket back up.

“No you don’t! I am not leaving you behind again!" She drags the blanket out of the room.

“Ugh,” Marinette rolls out of bed, padding out the room.

“Good morning,” Kagami greets, already dressed, hair perfectly brushed, sipping what must be tea.

“Morning people,” Marinette glares shuffling to the bathroom, hair out of place, pyjamas ruffled.

“Don’t worry about it,” Marinette hears from the living room, “It’s just jet-lag,”

“Taking a shower,” Marinette calls, closing the door.

“We’ve already had one,” Kagami answers, “.... separately,”

“You didn’t need to specify!” Marinette can hear the blush in Chloe's voice.

Marinette quickly showers, waking up enough to realise she left everything in her room. As she dries her hair she quickly notices the bathroom was already littered with makeup and hair products from Chloe.

“Alright this, or this one?” Chloe asks holding up two jackets for Kagami. Marinette leaves the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

“Which is warmer?” Kagami is now cleaning her mug.

“Why would that matter?” Chloe inspects herself in a mirror.

Marinette closes the door on Kagami launching into a lecture. She looks around the room to see pieces of her costume littering the ground. She starts with her thermal black tights. Zipping Marion's makeshift cape back up she turns it into a skirt, flipping to the pink side. She turns her jumper inside out, back to the white with a cherry blossom pattern. Underneath she pulls on a bullet proof vest/shirt combination, the chunkiness being hidden by the jumper. Lastly she pulls on her gloves and boots, taking note that Marion must still have her scarf. While she still has his jacket.

“Hurry up!” Chloe knocked on her door, “We need to get breakfast!”

“I’m coming,” Marinette stuffs the jacket into her backpack with the Miracle box, Tikki flying in after it, “Ready to go,”

They walk down to breakfast to the hotel's complimentary breakfast. As part of their trip they would be getting dinner as well.

“Over here,” Marinette hears someone call, turning to see Adrien waving from a table across the restaurant, with a tired Nino and an exhausted Marion.

“Good Morning,” She says cheerfully, specifically to Adrien as she doesn't think the others would agree.

“How dare you,” Marion grumbles, slowly chewing his toast.

“Sleep well?” Marinette specifically asks Marion, taking a seat.

“How dare you,” He repeats, swallowing with a sour face.

Marinette steals his plate while Kagami and Chloe go to serve themselves.

“Ha, you’re loss, it sucks,” Marion doesn't even try to reach for the plate.

“You’re just grumpy,” Marinette hums, taking a bite of the admittedly sub par pastries.

“And you live in a bakery,” Adrien adds a touch dreamily, Marinette blushes and nods.

“So, Nette, did you know about Mari’s little crush,” Nino leans forward.

“Not again,” Marion lets his head hit the table.

“Oh? He told you?” Marinette smiles evilly.

“Yep,”

“Not willingly!” Marion shouts into the table.

“What’s this about a crush?” Chloe takes a seat next to Kagami.

“Marion’s,” Nino specifies, mirroring each other's growing grins, “Can you guess who?”

“Hmmmm…. in our class?” She butters a roll, seeming to be solely focused on it.

“Nope, a Hero,” Nino watches as Marion tries to disappear into the table.

“In Gotham?” She guesses, taking a bite.

“Yep,”

“Batman?”

“No!” Marion slams his hands down on the table, Chloe laughs.

“Come on, I know it’s Red Hood, you wear that outfit everyday,” She teases.

“You already knew?” Marion whines.

“Awe, sweetie, you aren’t subtle,” Chloe pats him on the head.

“You’re all the worst,” Marion glares at the table, “Except you Kagami, you’re cool,”

“Thank you,” Kagami nods ignoring Chloe's offended jabbering.

“Speaking of my outfit, which I wear because it is cool and for no other reason-”

“Sure,” Chloe snorts, Marion gives her a glare.

“-I’m missing my jacket, Nette come with me?” Marion stands up turning to Marinette.

“Why?” Adrien says, probably louder than needed, as Marinette grabs her backpack.

“Because the second I see my bed I’m going to fall asleep and I need someone to wake me up,” Marinette follows Marion to the elevators.

“You got my jacket?” He asks, as soon as they step in.

“Right here,” Marinette fishes it out of her bag, disturbing Tikki munching on cookies.

“I’m going back to Paris for patrol, cover for me?” Marion shrugs on the brown leather jacket, the red embroidered bats on the back matching his hoodie.

“You’re going to be late for the tour,” Marinette warns, walking him to his room.

“No one will notice, if they do just say I’ll be there later,” Marion opens a door with his keycard, “I’ll transport back right outside of Wayne Tower,”

“Don’t be late,” Marinette closes the door behind them. Marion lets his Kwami's fly out. Marinette spots a pile of sugar packets stolen from the hotels restaurant.

“I won’t,” Marion gives her a smile that is not at all trustworthy. “Plagg! Kaalki! Combine!”

A flash of light and a portal later Marion was gone. Marinette went back down to finish breakfast.

“Where’s Marion?” Kagami asks, as Marinette sits back down.

“He made the mistake of looking in the mirror and is now trying to tame his hair,” Marinette takes another bite of a sad excuse of a croissant, “He’s losing,”

The rest of the table chuckled. More classmates started to come down. Nino left to say good morning to Alya, and stayed sitting at Lila’s table.

“Make sure you’re out front for the bus in ten minutes,” Madame Bustier warns them, walking by their table.

“Marion’s still not down?” Adrien looks around, as if he was some reason hiding from them.

“Did you see his hair?” Chloe plays with her own, “I would never be caught dead,”

“What about this morning when-”

“No idea what you're talking about,” Chloe says over Kagami.

“I texted him,” Marinette waves her phone, “He fell asleep, made it worse, says he won't be coming until it’s perfect,”

“That will never happen,” Chloe scoffs.

When the bus arrives they all pile on. Madame Bustier does a quick scan on the bus before nodding to herself.

“Marion isn’t here,” Kagami hisses.

“It’s fine, he know where we’re going,” Marinette pulls her back down, “he says he’ll meet us there,”

“Why wouldn’t she check?” Kagami glares at the back of their teachers' heads.

“She must have just thought he was with me,” Marinette placates taking her hand, Kagami practically growls but doesn't say anything more.

They arrive at Wayne tower, quickly being approached by a dark haired man with a smile.

“Hello, I’m Richard, but please call me Dick, I’ll be your guide today,” He scans the students, smile dropping, before addressing Madame Bustier, “You seem to be missing a student,”

“Really?” She turns around, passing right over Marinette, “Who?”

“Marion is still at the hotel,” Kagami snaps, Madame Bustiers eyes land on Marinette seeming to notice for the first time that Marion wasn’t with her.

“Oh dear I assumed he was with you Marinette,” Marinette watches the disbelief on Dick’s face grow.

“He was running behind, told us to go on without him,” Marinette curses Marion inwardly.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me that,” Madame Bustier fixes her with a disappointed stare.

“I-”

“Isn’t it your job to look after your students,” Dick glowers, Madame Bustier looks at him surprised, “Why wouldn’t you do an actual headcount?”

“Well I assumed-”

“You assumed your students safety?” Marinette can feel how uncomfortable their flustered teacher is getting.

“I thought they would speak up if someone was missing,” Madame Bustier defends herself, "My students are very responsible,"

“That’s not their responsibility, It’s yours,” The whole class watches wide eyed. Marinette looks over to see both Kagami and Chloe wearing satisfied smirks.

“Well it all worked out,” Madame Bustier give a fake smile, “Marinette said Marion could make his own way here so-”

“You do realise Gotham is dangerous, right?” Dick wasn’t about to let her off the hook.

“Yes, I reminded the students not to run off on their own,” Her tone starts to turn annoyed at his insistence.

“You are allowing them to ‘run off’ by not checking on them,” Dick chastises, “You should have held the bus until all your student was ready,”

“Mr Richard,” Lila cuts in, apparently having taken as much as she can bear of not being the center of attention, “Marinette and Marion are always disappearing to get attention, just ignore them,”

“Miss, a classmate of yours is missing and could potentially be in danger,” Dick berates, turning his glare to Lila, “It is not something to be ignored,”

“Well,” Lila doesn't shrink under his glare, “I think-”

“Uh, what's going on?” All heads turn to Marion who is standing behind the group, out of breath.

“Marion! You’re here,” Madame Bustier’s relief is clear.

“Uh, yeah,” Marion shuffles awkwardly under the attention, “My taxi got stuck in traffic so I had to run, sorry I’m late,”

“That all right, just make sure you-” Madame Bustier pauses as Dick’s glare snaps back to her, “We’ll just have to make sure to do a headcount from now on,”

“Right, sorry again,” He looks around the room, “We should probably step away from the entrance?”

“Of course,” Madame Bustier startles, having forgotten where they were. She addresses Dick a little awkwardly. “Now that everyone’s here should we start?”

“Of course,” Dick clears his throat, “This way please,”

“After all that your hair is still a mess,” Chloe sighs, as the four of them follow behind Dick.

“What?” Marinette kicks him, “... You try running four blocks and see how good your hair looks,”

“Thats where you’re wrong,” Chloe shakes her head as the rest of the class follow behind them, Madame Bustier at the back, “My hair looks fabulous no matter what,”

“Except for this morning when-”

“Would you stop bringing that up!?” Chloe shouts at Kagami.

“Be quiet and listen,” Marinette hushes them, as Dick starts talking.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment, as they can hear Lila from all the way in the back

“I can’t believe he would do something like that for attention, I was so worried,” Neither bother looking back to see Lila.

“I’m just glad Marions ok,” Mylene says, much quieter, “I was getting really scared he would get attacked with the way the guide was reacting,”

“Me too,” Lila sighs, “I can’t help thinking this is all my fault,”

“Why would it be your fault girl,” Alya takes the bait.

“Well last night we were talking, and I told him I was excited to come to Wayne tower to see my good friend Bruce and he just stormed off,” Marinette rolls her eyes, knowing Marion was punching people like her last night.

“You know Bruce Wayne?!” Alya whisper-shouts. This draws Dicks attention, Marinette just shakes her head, hoping he’ll get the message. He seems to as he focuses back on the tour, with a strangely amused if not angry expression.

“Oh, I know all the Waynes, I met them as part of my charity work, but we’ve become good friends,” Lila’s group burst out in excitement at the news asking her a million questions. Even Nathaniel seems to be interested.

The only others who aren't talking are Max and Alix, walking in the middle of the two group. Dick starts to speak louder over the trying-to-be-whispers and Lila’s loud jabbering.

“And this branch was put in place in 1988 to- they aren’t listening are they?” Dick asks Marinette and her friends.

“Sorry, about them, trust me you’re a thousand times more interesting than those lies,” Dick beams at her compliment.

“They really believe all that?” Dick shakes his head as Lila starts going on how she dated the CEO, Tim Drake.

“For some reason,” Chloe scoffs, “They all seem to be under a spell,”

“That looks like some black magic, maybe we should hold a witch trial?” Dick whispers, getting hushed laughs.

With that, a cruel truth is discovered. Dick seems to share the same kind of humour as Marion and Adrien, that is to say; terrible. This leaves those who are actually paying attention to suffer at the hands of an onslaught of terrible jokes and puns. The tour becoming a horrendous mix of education and bad comedy, as they make their way to the top.

“And here we have the some main meeting rooms, where all the bosses decide to get someone else to do their jobs,” Dick guided them down the halls. Marinette spots a familiar figure leaning against the wall up ahead.

“Aunt Selina!” Marion races down the hall a split second before Marinette does.

“What-” She looks up just in time to be knocked over by the twins and tackled into a hug, “What, are you two doing here?”

“We told you we had a class trip in Gotham,” Marinette smiles as she hugs them both tighter.

“That was this month?” She goes wide eyed, “When did you arrive,”

“Yesterday,” Marion helps her stand up.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” She ruffles his hair playfully.

“Well-”

“Oh my god, you two can’t just run into people like that, you need to stop being so clumsy” Lila chides, the rest of the group having caught up with them. They all looked in varying degrees of confusion, Dick seemingly the most taken aback.

“Did you not hear them call me Aunt,” Seleina glares down at Lila standing protectively in front of the twins, “I would be insulted if they did anything less than bowl me over for a hug,”

“I just-”

“You didn’t tell me about this,” Chloe cuts Lila off.

“Sorry Chlo,” Marion turns to Aunt Selina, “These our are friends, Chloe, Kagami and Adrien, that's Nino and Max, the rest are our classmates,”

“Nice to meet you,” Selina addresses those named. She looks proud of Marion managing to insult the rest of the class, judging by their annoyed expressions.

“Selina,” Dick speaks up, “I didn’t know you were the twins Aunt,”

“There's a lot you don’t know,” Selina hugs the two closer as the door next to them opens.

A man Marinette recognises as Bruce Wayne steps out. Followed by Tim from the airport.

“Selina are you ready to-” Bruce’s eyes land on them, glancing back at the class, “What’s going on,”

“Uhh,” Selina hesitates, something Marinette hardly ever heard her Aunt do.

“They’re Selina’s niece and nephew,” Dick responds for her, still sounding bewildered.

“.... I wasn't aware,” Bruce glances at Selina who just shrugs. He offers his hand to the twins. “I’m Bruce Wayne, Selina's fiance,”

“Oh! Nice to meet you, I’m Marinette,” She shakes his hand with a smile.

“Marion," Marion shakes his hand after, bouncing with excitement, "Aunt Selina didn’t tell us she was engaged,”

“Surprises all around,” Their Aunt says strained.

“Indeed,” Bruce stares down Selina, who rises to the challenge.

“I know you!” Marion notices Tim, “Thanks again for yesterday,”

“Not a problem, seems I made the right choice,” Marion looks puzzled, “Bruce is my adoptive Father,”

“Cool… wait does that mean we’re going to be cousins?” Marion beams, seemingly catching Tim off guard. Marinette joined them while Selina and Bruce were whispering off to the side.

“I suppose it does,” Dick came up behind them, slinging a arm around Tim “I’m Tim’s brother,”

“Really? He told us about you,” Marinette teases, sharing a smirk with the boys.

“What did he say?” Their smirks grew wider, “Tim, what did you say!?”

“Don’t you have a tour to lead?” Time dodges the question.

“We should let you go,” Bruce breaks from his conversation, “You two should come over for dinner tonight,”

“Sounds lovely,” Marinette agrees, Marion nodding, “What should we wear?”

“Anything you like,” Bruce chuckles, “Trust me, we’re not that formal,”

“Alright see you tonight,” Marion stops her from asking again. “Bye,”

Tim and Bruce leave saying their goodbyes. The twins turn to Selina.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Marion interrogates.

“Because you would tell Tom,” Selina boops him on the nose, “And I don’t want my brother making a wedding cake before a date is even set,”

“Papa would do that,” Marinette hugs their Aunt, “See you tonight?”

“Of course, kittens,”

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #bio dad bruce wayne #bio dad au #Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020 #Mismatch #Marinette #marinette is mdc #twins au #vigilante au #pop star au #bio mum selina #bio! dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #b! dbwm2020 #maribat #mlb #salt #but like lightly salted #maybe #class trip au #class salt #Lila salt #lila lies #big shocker there

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO “Evidence.”

Still working on the trial arc, and sorry I am late in posting. I had to go to work at seven and am trying to write in between helping guests. 

CREDIT and a THANK YOU to one of my amazing discord community members Eddi, who has been working for the last few months on the audio visual and transcript logs seen here. I did not write them, Eddi wrote them an was kind enough to let me use them in this story. I loved it and thought it brought a lot of authenticity to the story by bringing in an outside voice. 

WARNING: GRAPHIC blood, gore, and bodily mutilation. The Steel eye project development is VERY horrible, so don’t read if that is something that bothers you. 

It was a beautiful day.

The sky was a bright eggshell blue stratified with only the occasional cirrus cloud highlighting the sky with a touch of distant white. The sun was bright though the temperature was moderate only in the mid eighties.

Swimmers could be seen as distant pinpoints of light and froth on the surface of lake Geneva. Voices echoed up from the city coerced mostly by the purring of hover-car engines.

Towering white buildings rose high into the sky adding height instead of width to a city that had not grown outside its own borders for the past thousand years other than to go up.

Itw as a more environmentally efficient way to build, and left the countryside untouched by the scars of infrastructure and humanity.

Adam stared out the window for a long moment wishing for the peaceful embrace of the skies and the roaring of a jet engine. A soft whimper at his leg, and he looked down to see Waffles sitting at his heel, her head tilted back to look up at him. WHen he didn’t immediately respond to her she whined again and scooted closer, her paws making soft clicking sounds on the wood flooring below.

Finally he reached down and scratched her behind the ears.

She could sense his agitation, and it was clear that she didn’t much like it.

He couldn’t blame her.

He didn’t like it either. He sighed and turned his head away from the do and he window, back to the mirror in front of which he now stood. He didn’t see himself.

The man in the mirror was tall, straight backed with sharply trimmed and styled hair, jaw squared and raised. Both eyes were green though one expanded and contracted like the appriture of a camera. The expression on the man’s face was stern and unyielding.

He looked…. Like his father.

He had never seen much of a resemblance between them, but now he could certainly see it.

It didn’t help that the stars on his uniform seemed to add an extra ten years to his age.

With a soft sigh, he pulled his captain’s cap down snuggly onto his head and whistled low for his dog.

She fell into a perfect heel at his side, and he clipped the leash onto her colla.

Her black service vest was strapped on tight with a pair of doggie saddlebags on either side carrying water bottles. Waffles always liked having a job to do, and a little extra work would help to keep her relaxed during the trial rather than antsy.

She was going to have to stay very still for a very long time for the next few days.

“Ready girl.”

Her tail thumped against the floor at his voice.

“At least that makes one of us.”

He transferred her elash to his left end, though he didn’t technically need it, and led her out of the bedroom and into the large living room. It was a lot of hotel room for just one man. He would have been fine enough with a double queen personally, but he supposed if the UNSC was paying there was no reason to argue otherwise.

It felt strange, going to a hotel on the UNSC’s Dime to testify against the UNSC in one of the biggest trials of the century.

His stomach churned.

Waffles nosed his hand.

Dr Krill floated down from his examination of the chandelier, “I admire human artistry, but pragmatism is still my preferred way of living.” he motioned around the room, “A bit opulent.”

Adam nodded his agreement, “You can say that again. I haven’t slept on a bed that big in my life.” In all honesty, he was trying to keep his mind off of what was to come. He didn’t really care about the bed and certainly didn’t know if he had ever slept in a bed that large.

He sort of doubted it, he was in the UNSC after all.

A knock came on the door and he turned reaching for the handle and pulling it open. The driver from yesterday was waiting for him, his suit pristine. He bowed slightly, “The car is waiting for you, sir.”

He nodded, and motioned the other man to lead the way.

The man nodded and thanked him, stepping down the hall and leading them down into the lobby. They got a lot of looks as they made their way down, most likely because of krill, though his uniform might have caught some attention.

He was led out towards the car and slid into the back seat, suddenly surprised to find that he wasn’t alone.

“Admiral Kelly!”

“Good morning, Adam.”

“What are you doing here.”

“I am here to witness the trial. UNSC representatives thought it would be best if some of the newer brass came to oversee proceedings.”

He quickly looked out the window, suddenly remembering which side of the conflict this was on.

A hand rested on his arm, “I’m not here to make you feel bad about your decision, Admiral. You’re doing what needs to be done.”

He sighed and nodded, “I… thank you ma’am.”

“You sure this is something you are ready for.”

He paused and then shook his head, “No… I’m not ready, and I never will be.” She went to open her mouth but he stopped her, “But I’m the only one we have, so I will do what it takes.”

The car went silent as it slowly accelerated into the early morning traffic.

It was going to be a very long day.

Admiral Kelly turned to look at Krill speaking with him quietly while Adam looked out the window.

He wasn’t in the mood for talking right now though he knew how odd that was.

His stomach continued to churn as they drove through the streets heading towards the outskirts of the city where the Geneva court had been built just over 200 years ago.

The last buildings on the outskirts of town  went by and their first view of the court appeared in the car window. It was made in the classic greco-roman style with large white pillars and sloped rooftop and carvings on the top that depicted all the deities of justice ever conceived by historial religion, all cast and depicted in marble.

The thoroughfare up to the building was long and wide with a decorative reflecting pool at the center and a set of daunting steps leading up to the ornate front doors.

The grounds were meticulously kept with hedges shrub and flowering bushes, with what must have been miles and miles of water features and fountains off to the side.

It was a beautiful location, and it seemed that visitors found it a nice spot to rest while they enjoyed touring the sites.

He didn’t see much in the beauty today.

This was the UN supreme court, and the history of Geneva made this place hallowed in ways that made the court case for today all the more poignant.

The car pulled to a stop before the doors and a few gloved attendants stepped forward sharply dressed and opened the doors with almost militaristic precision as Admiral Vir and Admiral Kelly stepped out.

Waffles followed at his heels

He knew as soon as he stepped onto the marble steps that he wanted to leave, an the only thing that kept him there was the memory of those faces…. All the people counting on him back at the house, all the people who had never been given a chance to recover like he had.

He took a deep breath and ford himself up the steps and towards the front doos where a group of people were already congregating.

There were a few reporters there, without cameras, waiting to attend in the audience and record the proceedings for their news stories and daytime television. A few of them snapped discrete photos of him as he passed and was led through the wide double doors into the expansive inner hallway with a beautifully muraled ceiling and a line of decorative plants down the side.

Voices echoed inside the building, rising up around him to bounce off the marble.

The voices themselves were indistinct and difficult to understand as he made his way further into the room.

Men in suits lined the walls.

He eyed them critically wondering if any of them happened to be the defence.

A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he quickly turned to eye another attendant, who had evidently been trying to get his attention, “Right this way sir.”

He nodded and was led through the halls and into a nearby antichamber.

A wand was passed over his body.

“Please hold out your arm , sir.”

He did as ordered and watched as his forearm implant was temporarily deactivated. 

“The room is completely radio proof, sir. No signals go in or out. If you must make a call, I urge you to take it during the court recess.”

“Understood.”

“Please step inside and sit on the second row on the right side behind the prosecution.

He did as ordered, and stepped into another wide curving room.

It was much bigger than he would have thought, two stories high with amphitheater seats, and a massive curving desk at the front where nine Geneva court judges would be seated on their entrance.

There was no jury.

The Geneva court judges would be the jury for trial at this time.

Law practices had changed a lot since world war III but there was still some semblance of the old ways that still lingered on.

He took his seat, waffles grumbling softly as he slid onto the ground beside him.

Two people in suits followed him inside one in a dark blue suit and brown shoes, the other in pinstriped balck.

The one in blue was a woman, dressed sharply, her hair pulled back into a bun so tight you could have strummed out a tune on the hairs. She paused next to Adam and held out a hand, “Admiral Vir, we spoke over the phone.”

“Ms. Trevor.”

She nodded and motioned to the man, “And my partner Mr. Jackson. I trust you understand your purpose here today?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Jackson lifted his head, “Our case here is solid, admiral. This case isn’t about who is going to be punished for what happened, but about how long they will be punished, not to mention it is likely to set up some new legislation for the ethical creation and use of military hardware. Once we are done, something like this is unlikely to ever happen again.”

He wasn’t entirely sure he believed that, but he nodded and let them take their seats in the desk before him.

Waffles whimpered and prodded at his hands with her nose.

He stroked a hand over her big pointed ears.

The courtroom filled up within the next hour, and, Looking across the room, he saw a line of men and women sitting on the second row of the defence. Something about them put him on edge.

He had a feeling they were the scientists.

They were the ones who had developed the steel eye armor.

“All rise! For the honorable Geneva court judges!”

The entire room took to their feet as the nine judges filed out of a back chamber and stepped onto the floor. All of them wore traditional black robes with white collars as had been tradition for nearly thousand of years. They took their seats with a mass shuffling.

“Please be seated.”

The room shuffled back into place.

The head judge,at the center of the table leaned forward.

“On this day June 24, 4024 we open the Geneva Court case of The People VS UNSC Biomechanics Division. the court will begin by hearing opening statements from the council.”

Council for the prosecution stood, shuffling her papers once before stepping up to the lectern.

“Honorable judges and members of the court, today we are here to present evidence against a faction of the UNSC scientific division for gross ethical violations, torture, and pruposeful endangerment of human life. Evidence suggests over 29 killed, over 21 critically injured, maimed, or permanently crippled, and over 61 with lasting mental trauma. This is not counting over 50 Steel eye soldiers coerced without prior knowledge, into participation in the program, 30 of which are now deceased 15 of which have lasting mental trauma, and five that, while functional, still feel the effects today. Today we will be presenting, written documents, video recordings, and audio files from prior testing as well as first hand witnesses of both the testing and the war as well as expert witness from the scientist who read and compiled the files before trial. What was done to these men and women constitute as war crimes and their victims deserve compensation and closure for what was done to them.”

She stepped back from the podium and nodded.

The defence stood and made their way to the podium in turn, “Your honors, and members of the court, while it is true that some unfortunate incidents happened during testing and development of the steel eye project, there is ample evidence to prove that none of these men or women were coerced against their will into participation. All subjects were volunteer and duly informed before proceedings began. Furthermore, scientific ethics had not advanced far enough at the time to cover weather or not what they were doing was an ethical violation. The Defence is not asking for complete vindication for the accused, but the sum of what happens is surely less than war crimes.” 

They took their seat.

Adam wasn’t a lawyer, but he knew which opening statement he liked more. Now maybe he was biased, but certainly he felt that one presented greater amounts of evidence than the other. Of course it was up to the prosecution to show evidence that would convince the judges, beyond a reasonable doubt, that these men and women were guilty.

He listened to some more speaking, half falling asleep and assuming maybe this would be as bad as he thought it would when one of the prosecution stepped back up to the podium.

“The prosecution presents time stamped dated and logged evidence to the court for consideration. The first testing log we wish to present is from the eighteenth of October 4016 and overseen by Dr. Tato Nkosi written as log number 23.” 

Experimental Log #023:

So far we have not experimented with a human subject, All the sample tests and simulations indicate that there should be no interference with normal function nor create any feedback loops that could induce seizures. This is the first human testing that we will be doing. We have noticed that the animal testing resulted in significant irritation and irrational behavour from the subjects, We however suspect this was because they were unawares of the reason for the implantations.

The subject is unconscious for the process of implantation to prevent movement. 

-recording break-

The subject reacted violently to the implant, removing it in a highly violent manner while screaming and trying to injure any nearby scientists. We expected some level of resistance, but this indicates far more sensitivity than expected. Further testing will be required.

“The council for the prosecution wishes to present the audio/visual log.” A light flickers on as a video clip begins reeling.

Audiovisual Log Transcript:

The subject wakes suddenly, seeming to be woken by extreme pain. Screaming almost instantly and scrabbling at implant on their hand and wrist. Subject seems to be attempting to remove the implant. One of the scientists attempts to calm the subject only to be beaten by the subject who continues screaming. The scientist retreats from the subject just as the subject finally removes the test implant by ripping it from the subjects skin, tearing with it the subjects local nervous system along with large sections of the subjects musculature and ligaments. Seeming relieved at the lack of contact with the implant, the subject sinks to its knees. The subject is losing significant amount of blood, though we suspect the subject is unaware of this as large sections of the nervous system is still attached to the implant. The subject appears to be in shock as it observes its ruined lower arm and hand. The subject has resumed screaming and is now trying to get the scientists attention to fix its ruined lower arm and hand. The subject is sedated and arm treated. The recording ends here. 

Adam throws a hand up over his face feeling bile rise into his mouth at the image seared into his brain. Muscle and ligament dangling uselessly against a steel eye prototype. He felt a bit lightheaded but takes a deep breath in and out to calm his breathing. All around the room there are gasps of shock and disgust. A few people stand to leave the room unable to witness any more.”

The council steps forward, “This was the first log in a recorded series of proceeding logs with similar effects. We know in experimentation that accidents happen all the time, and we might have considered forgiveness if the experimentation had stopped here. Clearly implementation on human test subjects was not ready, as evidenced by the animal’s discomfort. Perhaps if they had stopped here, some measure of understanding might have been allowed. But they continued past this point with full knowledge that this sort of catastrophic event could happen. This test subject will never regain full use of his hand. Instead of stopping the experiment like hey should, the scientists determined that the use of painkillers was in order to make the subject operational. For this the prosecution calls expert witness Dr. Alexander Gladstone to the witness stand.”

On the bench to his side, a man stands slicking back his salt and pepper hair as he moves to sit in the witness stand and is sworn in.

“Dr. Gladstone, tell us a little of your credentials.”

“Of course, I received my PHD in Biomechanical interface and Engineering as well as an additional PHD in Mechanised robotics. I have worked as the head scientist for the UNSC testing division for nearly five years now after my predecessor quit. I helped to re-engineer this project under Iron eye as a step forward from the Steel eye project in a more controlled and ethical environment. I am also the scientists who reviewed these logs and compiled them for analysis today.”

“Thank you Dr. Now, may I ask why these scientists would have chosen to implement a drug dosage?”

“To understand why they had to do this, you must also understand the steel eye project itself. Steel eye was designed to enhance the strength, speed and durability of the wearer. We already have exo suits designed for use in factory and industrial settings, however the main issue we run into in a combat setting is that the machine responds too slow. The nodes detect electrical impulses from the muscles and then have to fire following that meaning the subject has already begun moving almost seconds in advance of the machine. Steel eye was created to integrate the machine directly into the body to intercept nerve impulses before the muscles even fire, thus making the wearer faster, and the augment making them stronger. To do this you have to make a direct interface with the nervous system. They first implemented small microfivers which would wrap themselves around the nerves in question to detect electrical signals. These were designed to cluster primarily along the spine but have additional nodes in the major muscle groups. However, direct stimulation of a nerve or nerve cluster sends signals to the brai nthat are interpreted as…. Unbelievable agony, which is likely the agitation that they were seeing in the animal test subjects. However, with a high enough drug dosage, you can mitigate these effects, or distract the brain enough to keep the wearer functional for some time.”

He sat back in his seat.

“And in iron eye, how did you get around this problem?”

“Subdermal implants that do not require direct contact with the nerve endings themselves.”

“And does Iron eye cause any significant damage to the wearer?”

“No sir, the only danger is an infection of the implants, but that is with almost any implanted medical devise.”

“The subjects have no pain.”

“A general soreness that goes away within two to three days.”

“So in my understanding it is clear that there were alternatives to their original course of action. They could have pulled back and tried to implement a way to mitigate the pain rather than mask it with drug dosages?”

“Certainly.”

“But that isn’t what they did.”

“No.”

“The prosecution presents Transcript 27 to the court for viewing.” 

Experimental log #27:

We have begun testing various drugs to suppress the pain, this test is with acetaminophen, commonly referred to as Codeine. 

As per usual the subject was implanted while unconscious and atop this it was given a high dose of codeine prior to it awaking. 

-recording break-

It appears that while the subject was capable of withstanding the pain from the implant for a longer period of time than our previous subjects However the subject clearly seemed to suffer increasing mental instability as the sensations returned, culminating in the subject violently trying to destroy the implant. Learning from prior experiments and in an attempt to reduce harm to the scientists, the subject was left alone while it was in this state and no attempt was made to aid the subject.

Adam turned his head away unable to stomach what was coming next. His hands were sweating terribly. He felt cold and weak. He had seen horrible things in war and in his time, but watching this… .watching steel eye. It was just too much.

His mouth had gone dry, and his skin was hot as if he had a fever.

The dog nosed his hand but he barely acknowledged her.

Audio-visual log transcript:

The transcript begins once the Codeine begins to wear off. 

The subject begins by itching at the area around the implant, the reaction is far less violent than the prior subjects. After several minutes of ever more irritated scratching and aggressive tugging at the implant and plaintive noises the subject began to violently bash the implant against the wall. Growing ever more violent with the abuse of the implant. This continues till the test implant is mangled and ruined with the subject pulling the mangled chunks of metal off their skin, this however seems not to alleviate the subjects pain and irritation. This is likely due to the destruction of the implant not removing the interfacing needles The subject continued to scratch and pull at its skin, the plaintive noises slowly becoming screams of pain. This action continued without interruption from the scientists till the subject had torn most of the skin of its arm and taken chunks out of its musculature, the subject finally passed out from pain or blood loss after several minutes of self mutilation. 

The room spun around him, and he took a few long, deep breaths hoping that it would stop.

He wast sure he could survive another few hours of this.

He wasn’t sure at all