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vivalabunbun · 1 year

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Let's Look Over The Garden Wall

Summary: One wants an easy meal and one wants to play house.

Word Count: 9.9k

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), MDNI, Modern AU, Vampire AU, Contract Marriage, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, pet name? (calls you good girl) TW: Blood & Blood drinking, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, slight orgasm denial, slight corruption kink, wedding night, temperature play? He falls hard, slow fic, tragedy

Authors note: This whole fic was a challenge since I wanted to write it kinda from Alhaitham’s pov. I’m not really knowledgeable about vampires, so in this fic they’re just a type of monster and not undead, and vampire blood can turn humans into monsters. Enjoy!

Side note: Here is the other side, Finale

The secretary had just arrived at the office not too long ago, shift starting at six pm and going until midnight. The typical hours for a creature of the night.

Like a sweet breeze that blew stray leaves through his office’s open window, a stranger came gallivanting through the boundaries of his door, contract in hand. Faruzan, the office receptionist trailing after you with your proper introduction.

“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.”

He certainly wasn’t expecting this when he walked through the sliding doors of the building. The biggest company in Sumeru, the firm that specialized in such dubious pacts.

In an age where humans now outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten the once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to play by mortal rules. One such rule, vampires can no longer drink human blood.

Animal substitutes were of course inferior in both taste and satisfaction, any vampire would know this. However, there’s a loophole to this law. Vampires can’t drink human blood legally unless it’s consensual by both parties, established through contracts. Business exchanges for money, power, or glory.

Of course, this practice is heavily regulated. Hunters who uphold the balance ready to rip the hearts out of those who dare make an unfair deal. Alhaitham is the simple secretary who files these contracts, not one of the agents tasked with such things.

Still, he’s intrigued. Even in this office there are many who have yet to see the face of this elusive vampire, how did this human identify him? He was looking for an excuse to stray away from dull lines of files, might as well entertain your musings.

The ashen-haired immortal pulls out a seat for you, nodding to Faruzan sending her out of his office, giving you privacy. Alhaitham ambles to the other side of the polished wood, settling down on his plush office chair.

“The process for filling a contract is straightforward, even though this consultation wasn’t planned, if negotiations go well you’ll then undergo a psychological evaluation.”

You nodded your head lightheartedly, posture relaxed in the chair.

“So,” he begins.

“What are your demands?”

“Marry me.”

Dead silence. He certainly wasn’t expecting a proposal this Monday night. Were you wasting his time with a joke?

You must’ve read his unfazed mask. Quickly pulling a pen and notepad from your pocket.

“I’m being serious, I want you to be my husband.” Hands swiftly jotting sentences down on paper.

In your graceless handwriting, you listed all your qualifications. Age, name, blood type, and financial status. You also detailed some self-prescribed personality traits.

Alhaitham skips over that section.

Marriage contracts weren’t unheard of, nor were marriages between humans and vampires. He believes such practices weren’t deemed illegal solely because of human morbid curiosity and desires.

No immortal, with their centuries of knowledge and wisdom, would waste such energy on a mortal, without a price of course. It would be a fool’s errand to not have fair compensation.

“For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine.” You point the pen toward him.

How romantic.

“I’d say you’re getting the better end of the deal, Mr. Alhaitham.” There’s a curl to your lips, resting your elbows upon his polished desk.

With a slight sigh, Alhaitham pulls out a form, pen swiftly recording the necessary information. There’s going to be a long process of straightening out the clauses, but this should suffice for approval.

“Why me?” He inquires, straightening out the proposal on his desk.

“You’re handsome, have money, and I like your voice.”

The rustling of papers and pens stopped. Dead unamused silence.

“Pfft! Too brash? Sorry, sorry, I was only joking,” giggling as you waved it off.

“Well, to be fair the real reason isn’t much better, to be honest.” You leaned in closer, creeping towards the unseen boundaries of his personal space.

“I often see you passing through the streets, guess I got enamored from there.” Your smile was shameless but your cheeks were tinted pink.

A hopeless romantic, that answer suffices him for now. He could’ve easily shown you the door, but life has been stagnant for a few decades. History repeats itself if you live long enough to see it, new occurrences are rare. As the sky deepens from indigo to midnight, two bodies sit across from each other, discussing sentences written on paper.

“I’ll contact you in three business days with the verdict, have a good night.”

“I shall await the news.” You beamed at him, warm and icy hands meeting for a handshake.

Just as you entered, you left with that same giddiness. Now left with his thoughts, Alhaitham reviewed the documents, he had three days to ponder whether or not to submit them to the legal team, and through the judgment of a certain scarlet-eyed General Hunter.

As per Sumeru regulations, all offices run by vampires must have uncovered glass windows. An attempt conquered by humans to enfeeble creatures of the night. Alhaitham’s beryl gaze traveled up the length of the building stationed across the street.

What an ironic placement for a hospital to be facing the biggest firm staffed by immortality. Or perhaps it was strategic, after all the most desperate humans are the ones who lay upon their deathbeds for one last hurrah.

The perfect scheme to keep the blood contracts flowing in.

Teal eyes observe the room right across through the glass, it seems freshly vacant. New untouched sheets, new unflatten pillow, and fresh towels.

Alhaitham can now confirm the validity of your statement, a half-truth.

When deciding on a contract, one must weigh the pros and cons, to see if they balance or if one side gives away to another. Your demands? You wanted to experience married life, all aspects of it. Your offer? Your everything.

All your assets together can’t hold a candle to the amount Alhaitham has accumulated for centuries, but it’s a decent amount. Perhaps due to a medical settlement.

Alhaitham has lived long enough to rein in primal desires, he can suffice off animal substitutes just fine. However, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want a taste of the real thing again. You offer him a steady supply, and to give him every last drop after seven years.

Yes, all of this for a mere seven-year contract. A deal heavily tipped in the favor of the vampire, not even a mere fraction of the time immortality offers. However, what piqued his interest the most weren’t the benefits listed.

A garden wall the tall vampire can’t peer over. Insight only attainable by those who near the end of their finite paths. What’s it like to have agency? What’s it like to have such finite time?

He’ll have seven years to observe. He submits the forms on the third day, delivering your verdict over the phone. Alhaitham agrees to entertain your little daydream.

On part that it was Alhaitham who personally filed the forms, the approval process went swimmingly, skipping the paper line. Tighnari oversaw the psychological evaluation, test after test confirming the sanity of your mind, speeding up the process of getting that stamp.

–

“What flowers do you like? I’m planning the decorations.” Your legs swinging under his kitchen table.

The contract was approved, hands held and certificates signed at the town hall, your belongings moved into his house. It’s excessive to want a celebration after all of that.

“Whichever flowers you want.”

Alhaitham will hold his tongue, after all, he’s signed to play the role of a husband.

–

The venue was spacious, high ceilings with marble floors and pillars, all of which were lavishly cluttered with Padisarahs, Sumeru Roses, and Kalpalata Lotuses. Alhaitham stood at the altar just off to the side of the wedding officiant. Tuxedo crisp and hands folded together, he scans over the rows of guests invited.

Since there weren’t any in-laws, Alhaitham assumed you wouldn’t have much of a social network. No one’s correct all the time, he ignores the piercing glares of a few eyes. The all-too-loud tones of a grand piano resound through the room. The previously shut doors open to reveal your figure. Embellished dress and veil perfectly framed by the carved entranceway as you ambled your way up the aisle.

The twilight hues of the sky dye the white gown in everchanging vibrancy as you passed by the standing crowd, up the steps to the altar, and finally in front of him. The overwhelmingly floral scent of the bouquet itches his nose.

Alhaitham pays no mind to the soliloquy of the officiant, he simply follows the rehearsed procedures. Sliding the gold band onto your finger and allowing you to do the same to him, lifting the veil to reveal your starry-eyed gaze he places a practiced kiss against your warm lips.

Is this excessive ritual over yet? No.

Alhaitham stands in the corner of the reception hall, hand nursing a glass of wine. The rich spices of the buffet offered to the guest irritated his palate. Supernatural creatures with their enhanced senses, a double-edged sword. Human food serves no purpose to vampires, it’s over-seasoned and pungent. At least your species has created drinks such as coffee and wine, delicacies even immortal creatures can enjoy.

In the center of the artificially lit hall, you eagerly greeted all your guests as they beamed at you. Giggling and hugging each person as an entourage of three friends helped with that embellished gown of yours. Two pairs of eyes from said entourage occasionally glared at him, their bodies forming a barrier to separate groom from bride. Candace and Dehya were the names you introduced to him.

Your starry-eyed self blissfully unaware of the silent cold war as the scarlet-haired dancer calls the attention of the two hunters back for the bouquet toss. Alhaitham was nothing more than just a decoration, you just wanted an excuse to prance around in a pretty white dress and throw a fancy party. He’s your husband, he’ll tolerate this daydream.

–

“Did you enjoy the reception?”

Only after the send-off and closing ceremony of the celebration, when the bride and groom were behind the thick oak doors of their suite, that you seemed to remember the decoration named ‘Alhaitham’.

“Yes, it was lovely.” The wine provided by the venue was of the highest quality, it entertained him enough.

“I hope you’re not upset at me being busy with guests.” Your arms found their way around his waist.

Quite comfortable encroaching on his space huh.

“I’m not.” Better they talk to you and not him.

As his cold hands pat the exposed skin of your back, his teal eyes didn’t miss the trail of goosebumps that prickled your skin. Shall he move on to the next scene? The lacing of your dress seems quite complicated, he assumes that it must have taken a few pairs of hands to tie it. Should he be a good husband?

“Do you need help with this?” His baritone voice was right against your ear, noticing the flush on the tips.

“Yes.” For once your voice was just barely above a whisper, a blushing bride.

The lacing weaved in and out of eyelets running down along the length of your back, how troublesome. Always one for efficiency, Alhaitham simply takes a handful of the taught lace and pulls, they snapped like simple threads. Such things offer no resistance to a creature of the night. The gasp that escaped your lips feed into something deep within.

With the bonds loosened, the embellished dress of yours lost the fight against gravity, fabric pooling at your feet. Revealing to teal eyes the lacy white stockings, garter belt, and panties, all the hallmarks of a wedding night. It’s impossible to deny the hunger crawling up his throat, no force of nature could resist such a sight.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? It’s rude to not offer the groom some help, no?” His hunger enjoyed that scarlet flush on your face.

Indecisive fingers going for the easiest button, opening the tuxedo jacket allowing him to shimmy it off his broad shoulders. Teal eyes continued to survey your flushed face, the smirk on his waiting for your hands to continue. Obeying his silent command like a good bride, you loosened the bow tie next, finally freeing him from that stiff collar.

Slowly your eyes peered up, asking if the torment was over yet, the slight rise in his ash brow directing you to resume. From your lips came the beginnings of a whine to which he sternly shushed. If you couldn’t even undress him how would you be able to do the other vulgar activities?

Finally relenting, your fingers continued with their clumsy attempt at unbuttoning his dress shirt, once a small window of his chest appeared your face pressed against the cool skin, staying there until all the buttons were undone. Oh? So even you can feel shame?

“Shall we continue on the bed, my bride?”

Your face was still hidden in his chest as you nodded, where did that shameless nature of yours go? With your gaze adverted he didn’t even bother hiding the curl of his lips. Sweeping you off the ground, he could hear the flutter in your chest increasing as the distance between the bed closes.

Upon silk sheets, Alhaitham settles down with you in between his legs and back against his chest. One key difference between humans and vampires? Body heat, one creature’s cells produces warmth, while the other simply remains the temperature of the environment. Your flushed skin seared itself into his, icy and hot mending together to create an equilibrium.

Of course, a good husband would warm his wife up. Alhaitham runs his cool palms along the length of your plush thighs and leg, absorbing the warmth as his own, soothing the shivers and goosebumps on your skin. Every now and then boldly creeping up the sides of your waist to twist at your perked nipples, enjoying every jolt and whine.

“Oh? Since when was this transparent?”

A firm hand grasps your chin, directing your vision towards white lace panties, the fingers on his other hand tracing over the shape of your cunt through the soaked fabric. Another lovely whine left your lips, face burning even more as you weakly protested in his hold, too powerless to do anything.

Skilled digits honed in on the nub that made your body jolt away, rubbing the faintest of circles over the delicate fabric, your legs trapped by his robust arms standing no chance to preserve your shattered dignity. As such, you had to follow his desires tonight.

“Or are you excited just by a few fleeting touches? What a lewd bride you are.”

It seems that you were telling the whole truth when you exclaimed how much you liked his voice, his finger could feel the slick that began to seep through the lace. Brushing the fabric to the side, Alhaitham allowed his middle finger to collect the slick along your slit allowing the rest of his digits to warm up against your cunt’s soft mounds. His throat felt parched as the sweet scent teased his nose, but now was not the time, maybe later in the night.

“Will you be honest?” The heel of this palm freely pressed against your clit as his middle finger continued to run up and down your wet lips, every now and then almost slipping.

Your body couldn’t hide its eagerness, hole clenching at nothing every time his finger passed by. However, he needed confirmation from you. Communication is important in a contract no?

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll be honest.” You pressed your back flat against his chest, trying to hide your face but his firm hold wouldn’t allow it.

“Good girl, then tell me what you desire.” His crisp breath provides your searing skin some relief.

Your plush lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes shut, cheeks heating up even more. It wouldn’t be good if you passed out from heat exhaustion so quickly. He grinds his palm into that sensitive nub, tormenting the answer out of you, nectar now dripping onto the sheets below.

“I want to c-cum,” You breathed out.

How direct, close but it wasn’t what he was looking for.

“You have to be more clear with your instructions, how do you want to cum?”

“Y-your fingers.”

“Good girl.” Finally, his finger breached your soaked entrance.

Pulsating walls welcomed him with unyielding squeezes, dragging his soaked digit further. Your sweet moans and whines resounded through the spacious suite, the volume of your voice directing him toward that spongey spot deep within. You were wet enough for another finger, so Alhaitham adds another, two digits stretching and exploring your soaked cavern.

“Mmmh! T-there!” Your toes were curling.

“Mmm.” The hum vibrated in his chest as his fingers went hard at work, thrusting into your quivering walls.

Each time his palm would slap against your clit your honest hole would clench down so endearingly. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, the muscles in your leg tensing up more and more. It’s obvious that you were close, but before he fulfilled your demands, he decided to be proactive and prepare for the next step.

Releasing your chin from his grasp, allowing your head to lull back against his shoulder. Alhaitham reaches between your bodies, hands never pausing their pace, swift fingers undoing the confines of his trousers. Allowing for his member to lay right against your back, the jolt of your body at the foreign object pressing against you made his hunger worse.

“Did you get more turned on? You’re clenching down tighter, did you want it that badly?”

Even if your eyes refused to meet his, the way your hips grind against his length, warming it up, told him all he needed to know. Your gummy walls constrict more around his fingers, it’s time to wrap up this scene, the next one is even more exciting. So his palm now digs into your clit, circling the now swollen bud in combination with his finger pressing against that nice spot deep inside.

“C-cummin-”

How cute, he didn’t even need to ask you to announce it. Letting your body ripple with the force of the orgasm, trembling limbs within his solid hold. If he was merciful, he would’ve continued to slide his fingers in and out, or maybe continue to caress your little nub, guiding you back to reality. However, hunger doesn’t allow for mercy.

Removing his soaked digits away from your pulsating cunt, teal eyes observing the transparent strings that clung to them with amusement. A small appetizer wouldn’t spoil the main meal, skilled tongue cleaning his fingers of your slick. Your head still limp against his shoulder, eyes rolled back in the throws of pleasure. To bring you back down to earth, it's best to use a new type of force.

Effortlessly, your hips were lifted up dripping cunt lined up with his impatient length below. In one fluid motion, your walls encase everything, drenched cunt giving no resistance as his tip kisses the spongy spot. Alhaitham lets a hiss escape him, it was as if he thrusted into the sun, your walls quickly bringing his member up to its temperature.

From your lips another moan was ripped out, oh it seems that you’ve plummeted back to reality. Your cunt trembled yet gripped onto his cock like a vice, coaxing him to go in deeper, encouraging his hunger to abuse your gummy walls even more. Barely riding out one wave of pleasure before another drowned you.

The hunters at your wedding could stick to your side the whole celebration, they could glare at him all they wanted, and they could try their damndest to keep the vampire at a distance. However, it was all efforts wasted in vain. For it was you, the blushing bride, who walked straight into his arms in the end, so open and receptive.

As he slides out just the slightest bit, your cunt protested by desperately clamping down, begging for his thick girth to stay in. In response he tightened his grip on your hips, lifting your body back up before bouncing you back down. What a glutton for pleasure you were, even as your little mouth whimpered and babbled, your walls thanked each slap of his hips with squeezes.

Sadistic hunger wanted more, to thrust deeper, to bully that poor spot inside of you over and over again with his thick tip as your walls stretch to accommodate the girth. His thighs collected the mixture of sweat and slickness from your body at each thrust. Your fingers dug into his hands, fingers white as you tried to grasp at anything to ground yourself.

“F-fast, too m-much.” There was drool escaping the corner of your parted lips, eyes barely back from seeing the inside of your head.

“Oh? Do you want me to stop?”

Alhaitham grinds to a stop, member still pressing deep inside you as he pulled you closer so his breath could ghost over your nape. In an instant, your mouth and cunt protested, you should be more clear with your instructions.

“N-noo.” Crying over the ruined tension.

“No? You wanted this.” His finger finds its way back to that swollen nub, flicking it a few times to watch the jumps of your body.

“If I let you cum, then I’ll do it my way, is that clear, my bride?” Tormenting your clit with firm circles.

“Yes! Please! P-pleasee.”

So weak against his voice, the sweet calls of a beast to lure you into the depths of depravity. Such is the fate of a shameless bride. Thus, his hips sprang back into action with renewed vigor. One hand keeps your hips still and the other remains on your clit to force that knot to reappear deep inside you.

Nothing but nonsense and moans babbled from your loose face, nectar dripping down to his heavy balls as they slapped against you with each pistoning of his hips. Your frantic hands entangled themselves into ash-mint locks as he felt gummy walls closing in tighter and tighter, your toes curling at the end of spread legs. Sinful slaps increased in frequency throughout the room as did the pace of the finger on your clit.

Your tense body held the warning of another storm, another fall off the edge into the depths. Alhaitham brushes his nose up your nape, the floral scent didn’t distract him from the goal laying just behind the skin. Your nerves were exhausted from the shooting pleasure, now was the perfect time to finally get his share. It’s only fair.

Prepping the area with a slow lick as his hips continued their brutal pace, incisors brushed against the delicate skin before piercing through. His hand shot up from your hip to your neck, a loose grip holding you still as your body tensed then violently shivered. The frenzy clamping of your cunt on his length was proof of your fall. Loose jaw uttering out broken moans as tears dripped down your chin.

The fresh scarlet flooded over his tongue and down his throat as Alhaitham continued with his slow suckling. Ah, you were very much like a flower, so delicate, so fragrant, and so bittersweet. It’s been almost a century since he last tasted the real thing, his body celebrated by filling your walls with thick release. An equivalent exchange of some sort.

A human body is quite frail, losing over two pints of blood borders on fatal territory. It’s not good to deplete a resource so quickly. Alhaitham releases your neck, running his tongue over the wound to seal it up. Teal eyes checked your complexion to ensure his measurements were accurate. Cheeks still with a healthy red flush as your chest heaved with pants, eyes glistening with tears. Such a shameless sight. He allows your head to roll onto his shoulder.

The rhythm of your heart settles back to its resting state as Alhaitham analyzes the taste he just experienced.

“I love you,” you breathed into his shoulder.

Alhaitham stiffens, the herbal aftertaste of your blood was bitter, the tang dried out his mouth causing a drawn-out pause. This is no good, he can’t miss the cue to say the line a bride longs to hear from her groom.

“I love you too.”

The choir of crickets from the world outside filled the void along with your pants.

“Pfft! Maybe let’s not say that, it’s too weird.” You shamelessly laughed, lifting your face from his skin.

What a relief, at least you seem to still have sense. Such words felt forcefully wedged into a script that wasn’t written for it. Might as well remove the line altogether. Moving on from the scene, Alhaitham lets you enjoy the warmth reflected off his body by yours.

It’s in the clauses to allow you to enjoy all aspects of marriage, so enjoy this honeymoon segment.

“Haitham, can you carry this for me please?”

“Haitham, I can’t reach, can you get it please?”

“Haitham, let’s have panipuri tonight!... Can you cook it please?”

It would’ve been better if he remained nothing more than just a decoration. It would’ve been easier if he was just a view for you to see behind glass. Perhaps Alhaitham’s acute eyes misread the contract, did you want a husband or just a maid?

Instead of sitting down in his own house to enjoy a book, he finds himself saddled with domestic responsibilities.

Must you call on him for everything?

Laundry and groceries aren’t that heavy. If you can’t reach the top shelves with the duster, then just get a chair. No ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ could prevent the downward tug of his lips every time you call him that doltish name. Your justification of a ‘nickname’ between lovers was moronic.

“Huh… Haitham how come you only use salt?”

Why do you make a creature who doesn’t consume such foods cook them? You’re more than capable of cooking for yourself every day. Although, Alhaitham would prefer it if you stopped using such overly fragrant herbs and spices.

Of course, when two breaths occupy the same space, there are bound to be pieces that don’t fit together, just as two breaths never sync. Alhaitham already factored those into his decision, but this was more proof of why a theory is always second to application. How troublesome the reality of marriage is, no wonder divorce rates are so high.

A good actor knows how to stay in character, so he’ll keep these thoughts to himself. Just as he lists your quirks silently.

One, you’re capricious. One moment silently enjoying a drama on the TV you asked him to purchase, body hogging the entire expanse of a couch. The next, you’ll be humming as plates and cups clatter in the sink, or the heavy thumps of your steps as you bound through the house with a mop. Alhaitham prefers it when you’re stationary, at least it doesn’t disturb his reading.

–

Two, you drink tea, an unfathomable amount of it. A warm cup always nestled between your fingers, bitter water mixed with honey. The herbal tang finds its way into your blood, making it taste like medicine. Thus, Alhaitham treats it as such, medicine just to alleviate suppressed bloodlust taken in moderation.

–

Three, you wanted to celebrate everything. Each square of a calender marked with scribbles. Why celebrate a celebration that’s already past? What is so special about a birthday? The past two years you purchased the same bundle of pungent flowers that made up that bouquet on that day to gift to him.

“Don’t you want a taste? I saved a slice just for you. Oh, would you eat it if I sprinkled some of my blood on it?”

Alhaitham swiftly accepts the plate from you, lifting the fork of overly sweet birthday cake into his mouth. Useless carbs take up space in his body, but such a thing causes no harm. Better to taste like pure sugar and not medicine.

–

The worst quirk of yours? You rise as soon as the sun greets the sky, adamant to not miss a single second of a day. Every day’s itinerary is filled with spur-of-the-moment decisions, such as going to a farmers market only open on Saturdays between the hours of 9 am and 2 pm. And how you drag him along.

Curses, only a human would drag a creature of the night into the day. What sadistic creatures, delighting in others' misery, you’re no exception.

“I thought you said vampires aren’t like how TV depicts them.” Curious eyes observe his slouched figure.

Vampires aren’t like how those dramas of yours depict them. No formal invitation to cross wooden thresh holds, no garlic braids as an effective shield, and no turning into a pile of ash at the mere rays of a star.

If so, then vampires would’ve been long gone by now. However, just because the sunlight can’t kill a vampire-

“It doesn’t mean it’s not unpleasant.” His stoic voice was too tired to add a bite.

You continued to stare at him with wonderment, as if what he said was the most complex theory known to the universe. Those dramas must’ve rotted that mind of yours, he concludes. You’re beyond saving.

“I see.” Gentle hands lift the excessive sun hat from your head.

Reaching on your tiptoes you place it atop his head, the straw brim providing some reprieve for his irritated skin. Shuffling the hat around until it’s securely nested along his now trussed ash locks. Satisfied, you lower yourself back down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. We can go home..”

Tenderly, your hands clasped around his, guiding him into the shade. The whole walk your hands never left his, eyes always searching for the next patch of shadows to lead him into. For the rest of the weekend, you just watched your dramas, the sensation of guilt must’ve muted your voice.

Good. He celebrated this rare break in his library away from you.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Monday night rolled around again, as he passes the living room, he spots your loafing body napping on his couch as the TV acted as white noise. Tsk. Regardless, it’s time to get to work, he walks toward the front door.

“Wait,” came a soft command, dripping with sleep.

From around the corner, your figure comes stumbling towards Alhaitham, his hand still firmly on the knob. Hands busy trying to rub the fatigue away from your eyes, blinking away the pleasant dream you were just in.

Why did you abandon it? Alhaitham doesn’t know.

Your frame reaches his, transferring some of your warmth to him, arms outstretched towards his neck. Teal eyes don’t miss the way your drowsy legs were wobbling. To prevent any accidents, he supports your body with an arm around the waist.

Just as he feels your body steady, clammy palms encase the sides of his face. Pulling it down as your supple lips pressed against his cool cheek. Did you traverse all the way from the sofa just for a kiss?

“Have a good night at work.” Your shameless smile beamed.

A habit formed from one of your dramas, a wife bidding goodbye to her husband with a sweet kiss to boost his spirits. Curiosity must have gotten the better of you, or maybe you wanted to amuse yourself, two possibilities Alhaitham devises.

–

“So, how’s married life treating you?” Kaveh’s smug tone grated against his eardrums as the blond rested an elbow on the bar table.

Alhaitham couldn’t stop the frown from forming, nor the heavy sigh, so he took a hearty sip of his wine. Emptying the glass in one fluid motion.

“Heh, I see you’ve been enjoying the spoils of marriage very much,” Tighnari snickered.

“Sure, if you wish to see it that way.” Alhaitham’s hand found itself pouring another glass.

It seems that everyone around the ashen-haired vampire was enjoying the spoils of this odd union, everyone but him that is. His miseries fueling the chaff nature of his acquaintances, still he needed a reprieve to drink.

Not that herbal blood of yours, but something actually palatable like the fragrant wine washing the frustrations down his throat. It’s not marriage, it’s having to work overtime.

“Regardless, you signed a contract, you must uphold the clauses.” Cyno’s scarlet eyes leered over the rim of his glass.

Alhaitham sighs, he should’ve drank alone.

–

The tavern wasn’t a far journey away from his house. The deep hues of night slowly shift to the youthful flushes of dawn. He’s been drinking for quite some time, it didn’t matter, alcohol has no effect on a body such as his.

Alhaitham twists the key, the door creaking ajar just to reveal your figure with arms crossed. Disappointment ever so clear in those eyes of yours.

“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your tone.

After a few hours of reprieve, Alhaitham is welcomed home with an interrogation. Wonderful. Why should he answer this meek creature standing in front of him? He could just walk to bed and get the rest he deserves.

‘You must uphold the clauses.’

Right, Alhaitham has to play the role of a husband, he signed a contract, too late to just burn the papers now.

“I went drinking with coworkers,” he curtly answers.

“Why didn’t you call beforehand?” Your head tilts, disappointed eyes still honed on him.

Why does he have to inform you of his every movement? Who were you to demand so much of his individuality? Alhaitham couldn’t help the frown that reappeared, directed at you, the hurdle that blocked him from entering his own home.

The grandfather clock counted the seconds in the background, two sets of eyes locked in a stare-down. One frowning and one disappointed. How long will this last?

Your shoulders slumped as a sigh left your lungs. Eyes finally finding rest behind two heavy lids.

“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed.

Your back straightens again as you lean in closer, eyes recentering on his towering form. They no longer held the burden of disappointment, they twinkled with something else.

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.

“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call. I got worried.”

What wasted concern, why worry for an immortal creature?

“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either, but if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text. So I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.”

Alhaitham scans over the discoloration hanging heavily under your eyes. An unpleasant sensation crawled up his spine. Phone shut off by habit, unaware of how you were losing sleep as he emptied bottle after bottle. He has to remedy the situation now, it’s what a husband should do.

“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers.

Is he allowed back into the confines of his own house now?

Your hands were now positioned defiantly on your hips, brows quirked up as if expecting something more.

No.

“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted.

The magic words to finally open the path into the house, words that finally returned that grin to your face. Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek.

“Welcome home, Haitham.”

Ah, he knows what that twinkle in your eyes was, sincerity.

Audiences rarely see the behind-the-scenes of a movie, with directors always handpicking which mistakes are charming enough to be shown as a blooper. Audiences don’t see the multiple scenes filmed then refilmed, they can’t experience the long hours, and they don’t know how many times lines were misread. Three years is enough time for actors to learn their lines.

“Is my drama too loud?”

Alhaitham peers over the top of the journal, focusing on your face peeking through the entrance of his library. Judging by the apron, he guesses it's almost time for dinner, the dialogue playing on the TV was just above a muffle from here.

“It’s fine, remember to turn on the kitchen hood.”

“Okay, which wine did you want to baste the meat in?”

“Top left, how long will it take?”

“Pfft, famished already? 15 minutes, you won’t waste away in that time right, Haitham?”

The ever-so-adventurous palate of yours and the ever-so-drab palate of his. An unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, two existences that bend and twist each other until equilibrium. Equilibrium in the form of a steak basted in red wine, rare for him and medium for you. A dinner that could be enjoyed by both breaths.

–

“Oh?” Your bewildered eyes blink at the bouquet presented to you.

A wrapped box held tenderly in your hands. Alhaitham had taken note of a certain scribble marked on the calendar, it was he who got the fourth bouquet. Placing an order ahead of time to ensure the freshest flowers.

“You said they smelled bad.”

“I’m used to it.” A half-truth.

Your lips couldn’t suppress its toothy grin, balancing the box in one hand as the other accepts the bouquet.

“Since you have every book in existence, I got you something else.” You nudged the wrapped present toward him.

Unraveling the decorative paper his eyes were greeted by the sight of a carved figure of a… what is it? Meeting your eager gaze, the quirk in his eyebrow told enough.

“It’s a hawk, I saw in storage that you used to collect these decorations.”

Ah, you found a petty hobby he had decades ago to torment a certain someone. A figure serves no practical purpose in a home, but the eagerness of your eyes was enough to find the endearing gift a place on a shelf.

–

“How does one make their blood tastier?” You pondered into his embrace.

His tongue traveled up the nape of your neck to collect the escaped drops of scarlet and to close up the wound. Your bare skin pressed against his, rising his temperature to a pleasant warmth.

He could feel every shiver as his length shifted within your overstimulated walls, recovering the overwhelming pleasure experienced just moments earlier.

What an obvious answer, stop drinking that tea of yours. However, Alhaitham prefers when you have the energy to trot through crowded walkways at dusk with him in tow. Bittersweetness is an acquired taste, one that took him some time.

“Since you have enough clarity to ask questions, I’m assuming you’re up for another round.” His husky breath ghosts over your ear.

“Wait~ I’m still sens-Ah!”

–

Over time, something as short as five years, even a trickle of water can crave a home for itself in the rocky foundations of the earth that’s existed since the dawn of time.

The side of the polished dinner table with the clearest view of the TV was your side.

The mug left in the sink with the faint aroma of tea and sweet honey was your mug.

The couch with cushions misshapen and molded by repeated use was your couch.

Such is the lull of domestic reality, each kiss at the door to bid goodbye and each kiss to welcome him back.

Nothing, not even immortality, is resistant to time.

Due to the crowd you’ve built your circle from, hunters were semi-frequent guests at his home. Much to your delight and his dismay. A husband should get along with his wife’s friends.

“Your complexion has gotten paler.” Candace’s heterochromatic eyes narrowed, her hands turning your face from side to side.

“Mmm, I haven’t been going out during the day as much.” Resting the weight of your head within her palms.

“Bullshit, he’s been using you like livestock,” Dehya snapped.

“Mmm? Not really, he says my blood taste like leaves.” Halfheartedly lifting your face out of Candace’s warm hold.

“Don’t cover for that bastard,” the Flame-Mane hunter scowls.

“Need I remind you ‘that bastard’ is still in the room?” Alhaitham breaks his silence.

“Who said you could speak?” Sapphires clash with beryls.

“Who’s home are you currently guests in?”

Even without glancing down, Alhaitham could tell that Dehya’s hand was twitching to reach for the silver dagger hidden up her sleeve. The hand then falters back down, Candace must’ve also noticed, steadfast eyes sending a warning to the other hunter.

“Of all people, why did you have to marry this vampire?” Dehya turns to you exasperated.

“Mmm,” you hummed.

With the finger pressed against your lip and your eyes wandering up towards nothing, Alhaitham couldn’t tell if you were deep in thought or just faking it.

Your pondering filled the room with silence, three pairs of eyes intently trained on your frame. Eyelids closed as you deepened your thought. After a few beats, they fluttered back open.

“Because he’s just too handsome.” There’s that shameless smile again.

The disgusted expression that plastered itself all over the hunter’s face at your response almost pushed a quiet laugh from his lips. However, Alhaitham wanted to avoid a physical confrontation from starting in his house.

If there’s one virtue you have, it’s that you’re a fair person. You perplex your friends and husband to equal degrees.

It’s now time for the hunters to start their night, much like how Alhaitham will soon report to the office. The two women and you were now at the threshold of the door bidding goodbye, their skeptical eyes every now and then glaring behind you at the vampire.

“Oh, one more thing,” your voice perks up.

Arms encapsulated two sturdy frames, pulling them close against yours.

“I love you guys.” Your words make the two robust warriors take a sharp inhale, bodies tensing up momentarily.

“We love you too, very much.” Candace’s voice forced itself to steady.

“Yeah.” Dehya pulled you closer.

After a few beats, you pulled away from your friends. Lighthearted grin lopsided on your face.

“Alright then, stay safe out there,” you chimed, waving at them.

After their figures disappeared from view, Alhaitham shut the oak door. You still peered out the curtains, daydreaming something as the stars reflected in your eyes. He observes for a moment before he collects the cups and dishes that once held tea and sweets to entertain bygone guests.

You were already surrounded by love, genuine love. Why did you sell your soul to experience something you already had? Alhaitham will save that question for another day.

Would you try saying that line to him again? Maybe this time he read his line without hesitation.

–

Alhaitham’s heavy lids shot open. The unwelcome greetings of morning birds signaled the time of day. Keen eyes scanned over the empty space beside him, sheets still trussed in the shape of a smaller figure. The bird songs rang like sirens, heightening his senses.

For once his ageless body left the bed without protest, swift steps pattering through the dim halls until the backyard came into view. Sunlight poured in through the open door, the wooden mounts perfectly framing your slumped figure.

Tired body balancing upon the basket of damp laundry, halfway from the backdoor and clothes line, you stopped to take labored breaths.

Swiftly he was by your side, towering stature blocking you from the harsh rays. Alhaitham lifts your fatigued body from the ground, giving your aching legs relief. Even with the sun hanging high in the sky, your skin didn’t absorb an ounce of warmth.

He takes you to the safety of the dim house, settling you onto the soft cushions of your couch.

“Don’t push yourself.” Alhaitham shifts a few pillows behind your back.

“I wasn’t, the laundry needs to be hung,” you huffed.

“Just call for me.”

You sounded out a whine of protest, but your breathing steadied. Alhaitham moves to stand back to full height, ready to finish the task awaiting out in the sun.

“Wait,” came your soft call.

Plucking your favorite sun hat off, you bestowed it upon unkempt ash locks still dusted with sleep. Fussing with the oversized straw brim until it stayed in place. Once satisfied you beamed, fingers caressing his smooth cheeks before placing a peck from curled lips.

“Thank you, Haitham.”

Adamant hands smoothed over the damp clothes, ensuring that they didn’t dry on the line with wrinkles that stayed stubbornly. The morning rays felt like sand against his exposed skin, but the hat bestowed upon him made it tolerable.

–

“It’s dusk, would you like to stroll through the market tonight?” Beryl eyes inspect the curled figure of his wife among cushions and blankets.

“Mmm, maybe not tonight.” You sink deeper into your couch, drama long forgotten.

“I see.” Alhaitham moves to the armchair just adjacent to you, a frequent perch of his now.

“Come here?”

Just as you finished blinking Alhaitham was by your side again. Slowing lifting your upper body just off the cushion, you pat the now free space, welcoming him to sit. He wouldn’t be a good husband if he were to deny such a request. So he sits.

Once the ashen-haired vampire was fully situated, your head found its place upon his thighs.

“Lap pillow,” there was that giggle of yours.

Alhaitham sighs, but he couldn’t prevent the corner of his lips from curling up, so he hides it with his book. This must be something you learned from those dramas again. He’ll humor it.

His cool fingers run along your scalp as his teal eyes switched between your resting face and the words printed along the aged paper.

Maybe not today, perhaps tomorrow when the rays of a selfish star kiss your cheeks.

–

The drinks were served quietly, the tavern didn’t seem as lively tonight. Perhaps because it’s the busy season, Spring air carries with it the signs of renewing life and tax forms.

“So, how is she, the wife?” Kaveh traverses the stagnant air.

What a redundant question, Alhaitham knows they can smell the fragrance lingering on his body from you, the aroma of flowers only found in a garden beyond a line immortals can cross. The scent of an ending journey.

“I’ll send some more Kalpalata Lotus tea, one cup a day should help with lethargy.” Tighnari prescribes, making a mental note to prepare the delivery once he returns home.

“Thank you, how much would I owe?”

“None, just a gift for your wife.”

Alhaitham hums in gratitude, and the table continued to play cards placidly. Throughout the rounds, his teal eyes stole glances over to a dark screen.

The group dispersed at dawn, but it wasn’t long before Alhaitham acknowledged the presence behind him.

“Alhaitham.”

He only glanced over his shoulder at the tan vampire.

“Remember the punishment that awaits those who dare disturb the cycle of life.” A threatening crackle resounded from the curled fingers by Cyno’s side.

Alhaitham already knows and Cyno knows it all too well. After all, the privilege of a good true death was stolen away from the white-haired man many years ago. Cursing the shorter man to eternity. Thus, Cyno now spends eternity punishing those who dare break the most sacred law.

Alhaitham responds with a nod and with that the two men parted ways as the rosy hues of dawn dyed the sky. You’re probably in bed already, it’ll be his kiss to announce his return.

–

In an age where humans outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to obey mortal laws. The most sacred of laws, vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings. It’s illegal, it’s immoral even to curse such fleeting creatures with eternity.

However, vampires are creatures born outside the grace of god from the very start, lurking in the shadows of iconoclasm. What difference would it make?

It’s his night to make dinner, steak with red wine sauce.

What is the difference between blood and wine to the inattentive eye? The scarlet hues could be easily mixed. All it would take is a sprinkle, drops stirred into the fragrant sauce served over the juicy meat, for you to abandon your humanity. For the ticking of a grandfather clock to stop its hands.

Who wouldn’t want more time?

A scene from a night now long past resurfaces at the front of Alhaitham’s mind.

–

“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence after a moment of passion.

Your damp skin glistens under the moonlight, your chest rising and falling as the lust slowly blinks away from your eyes. Alhaitham’s hand on your back guides you down from cloud nine. You stared at him inquisitively, teal reflecting back to him as he remains silent.

Ashen hair tussled and scratches fading away from cooling skin, he awaits your answer, schemes manifesting.

You let out a hum, signing that you’ll humor his question this time, as your face rests against the pillow comforted by his woodsy scent.

–

If you had more time, he would have more time. More time to pick your brain. More time to search through the archives of your thoughts to decrypt you. More time to grovel at your feet for forgiveness after he rips the humanity away from your arms.

Alhaitham is a prideful thing, but he’s not a dense fool. He knows when an apology is necessary, insight gained from his time shared with you.

Teal eyes glance back behind him towards the living room, where your figure sat quietly, attention distracted by the pair of lovers on screen in the midst of a tense argument. Never once turning behind to glance into the kitchen, not one ounce of suspicion. The scene finishes.

–

“I was born a human.” Your lids opened again, meeting his beryl-like eyes.

Irises pure like the moonlight reflected in them. He hums in acknowledgment, fingers tracing mindless scripts into your tender back.

“I will die as one.”

He hums in confirmation.

–

A riddle he couldn’t quite solve to bypass the sphinx who guards the sanctuary of your mind. Humans are greedy creatures of conquest, always wanting more, always hungry for more. That’s why creatures like him exist and thrive, feeding into the natural greed of humans.

Every human wants more power, more money, more wisdom. Every human wants more and more and more. Every human, so why can’t you want more? It seems that the breeze who gallivanted into his office, proposing to him with a contract, won’t reveal her secret.

As it was outlined on the paper signed by two names, he shall honor your wishes for now until the end, such is the character of a husband.

Alhaitham runs his hand under the kitchen sink, shameless eyes watching as the water turns clear again, and as the skin closes up. A feature only a creature born outside the jurisdiction of god would have.

He finishes the meal with a few sprinkles of freshly cut herbs, serving the untainted sauce over juicy cuts of steak, one cooked medium and one cooked rare. He calls you over to the dinner table.

The average human life span has increased drastically in the past centuries, it’s now about eighty years give or take.

Still a mere fraction of the time held by vampires.

Eighty years, and yet you could only have a fraction of that. You could only offer him a sliver of a fraction.

–

“It’s been a while since you’ve fed, aren’t you hungry?” Your eyes peered over at him.

Alhaitham wipes the washcloth along your back from beside the porcelain tub, steamy water carrying the fragrance of Nilotpala Lotuses. The humidity of the bathroom made the shirt cling to his skin like a wet rag, but the moisture helped with your coughs.

“I’m satisfied.” Another half-truth, teal eyes scan for any signs of discomfort, he can bare it.

“Really? I’m sure my blood doesn’t taste like leaves anymore.” You rested your cheek again on the warm washcloth, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights as you looked into his.

The gift by Tighnari sitting untouched in the corner of a cabinet. Perhaps you’ve gotten tired of the bitter herbal taste, or maybe because there wasn’t a point in drinking it anymore.

Alhaitham fought the urge to click his tongue at your brash humor, only you would worry about how you taste during the closing days of a contract. However, his lips couldn’t form a frown when you beamed at him like that.

–

On the path to work, beryl eyes landed upon a bouquet arranged with familiar flowers, the petals dyed by the rich hues of dusk. The florist was busy gathering up the displays to bring them back inside for the night.

“Excuse me, I’d like to purchase this bouquet.”

That night at the office, the staffed vampires crinkled their noses at the overwhelmingly floral scent that plagued the floor. Alhaitham just shut his office door, bouquet resting in a hastily prepared vase, such a thing won’t kill a vampire it’s such a minuscule issue.

“I’m home.” He locks the door after him.

Keen hearing not picking up the pattering of feet along the hardwood floor. Placing the flowers on the entranceway table along with his dress shoes, the ashen-haired immortal trekked through the halls, silence ringing in his ears.

Behind the solid bedroom lay his answer, turning the knob, Alhaitham feels tense muscles loosen as the steady melody of breaths resounded through the room.

You’ve been here since this afternoon, body now imprinted into the plush mattress. Still, your blood still runs and your chest still rises, even if there were faint hints of wheezing it was good enough. Quiet as a shadow, Alhaitham removes his blazer and tie before joining you under the sheets. He’s been craving sleep.

A timeless body doesn’t need sleep, ageless cells don’t require such downtime to recover. However, claiming that vampires don’t enjoy sleep would be a blatant lie. A calm way to pass the endless time offered by eternity, a nice way to escape boredom.

Or maybe it’s because sleep gives immortal creatures a taste of an experience they’ll never have. Peaceful expiry.

Teal eyes observe the ever-present curl of your lips before cool lips are pressed against your plush ones. A habit formed after six years. The flowers were still left at the door, but they’ll survive the night. Alhaitham will show them to you in the morning, and you’ll beam that grin at him in the morning.

–

Fresh flowers rested in a vase gifted by friends on the nightstand, the last flowers of Spring. The delicate blooms give way to the vibrant greens of Summer. Such a cruel season for vampires, with days so long and nights so short. A cruel season that offered your body no additional warmth.

Alhaitham’s hand brushes against the apples of your cheeks, your unconscious body protests in an instant with shivers and curls away from the thief stealing what precious heat you had. As if burned by fire, the vampire retracts his hand.

Right, he can’t be greedy. Teal eyes watch every tremor until his legs finally remembered how to walk. Pacing to the closet Alhaitham pulls the Winter covers out from storage, insulating your body with the thick duvet.

The layers form a barrier protecting you from icy touches as he smooths out the wrinkles.

When humans walk into a garden, their eyes are immediately drawn toward the most beautiful blooms. Watching intently at how the petals of the young blossom unravel, their senses enjoying the heavenly fragrance. It’d only be a matter of seconds before their inevitable greed takes over, and they wish to claim the flower as their own.

In this sense, the gods are no different than the mortals who were crafted in their image. Greedy to pluck the most beautiful blooms from the garden for their mere amusement.

Is that what went on behind the garden wall those born outside the jurisdiction of god couldn’t peer over? Alhaitham wonders if you’d answer this inquiry of his. However, if he wants answers, he’ll have to ask soon.

How should he say the last lines of this script?

Alhaitham ponders. There wasn’t a director to give a cue, no parenthetical to follow. Perhaps he’s entertaining such futile thoughts to distract himself.

With each wheeze of your chest, the itch in his palm grew unbearable. His thumb begged to dig its nail into the smooth skin until scarlet droplets trickled out. However, it never got its chance for soon your ailing fingers occupied the space, interlocking to halt its motion as gold rings clinked together.

“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice babbling with a giggle.

Alhaitham’s cool skin hogged your warmth, trying to permanently sear the temperature into itself.

“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” You craned your neck away with a deep exhale, exposing the vulnerable skin to him.

There’s nothing viler to a vampire than stagnant blood. Blood that no longer runs tastes rotten, cold blood is worst than bile. Your blood still ran warm, he could sense it. This time it was his incisors that itched.

Keen eyes don’t miss the way your nape prickled at the breath that ghosted over it as his lips parted. Your lids gently shut, bracing yourself. The incisors brushed against your exposed jugular, but they couldn’t break through the delicate skin. They wouldn’t. They just wouldn’t.

Like the cowards they were, they retreated. Alhaitham closes his lips, deciding to press a tender kiss on the spot instead. His free hand guides your head back into a comfortable position on the plush pillow.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back.” Your eyes were open again.

“I’m not holding myself back,” he spoke the truth, the whole truth.

You were born with blood, it’s only right that you die with it, Alhaitham concludes.

The ending clause of that contract be damned.

“What a silly vampire.” Your bell-like laughter twinkled in his ears.

Yes, he is. Even after all these centuries, Alhaitham realizes he’s still no better than a fool. A shameless fool. An idiotic hypocrite ready to stray away from the principles he thought he held firm. He’ll accept this verdict, he’ll continue this fool’s errand, if and only if you continue to giggle at his antics.

Outside the window came the dirge of Summer crickets, gentle crips accompanying your fleeting wheezes. Alhaitham shifts the thick comforter up your body, smoothing out the wrinkles as the soft warmth lulls you away.

Your still fingers in between the spaces of his, your head curled within the space between his nape.

Under the moon’s pure rays, lay two bodies atop soft sheets, curled towards each other, the fleeting warmth long dissipating. Atop silk sheets, one body envisions the two buried under cold dirt and not clean comforters with hands somehow still locked together. Deep under the garden wall.

Once the cruel sun creeps into the sky, and the night flees into hiding with her stars, Alhaitham will have to make a call.

He’ll have to speak with the receptionist on the other end, with their bright customer service greeting, and get a legal pronouncement of death. Then soon after that, he’ll have to arrange the transportation of your cold husk. He’ll have to lower you into the ground alone.

However, the morning is still hours away, the moon is still here to lend her quiet sympathies. So tonight, just for tonight humor his little daydream.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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reareaotaku · 1 month

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No Where 2 Run

Part 1: I Want 2 Watch You Bleed Summary: You have to find a way out, but with Miles' eyes on you constantly, it makes it near impossible Tw/Cw: Being Held Hostage [Practically], Paranoia, slight NSFW/Non-con, More Porno-Magazines mentioned Taglist: @littlebrattsblog [Might make a part 3 where she actually escapes? ]

You had to figure out a way out. You weren't exactly sure how you were going to do it, but you were more determined than ever. There was only problem; Miles. You could feel his eyes on you constantly, like he was waiting for you to make a mistake.

Just as he said, he didn't tell anyone that you tried to leave, especially Mrs. Grose. He probably kept it to himself, because Mrs. Grose would fire you if she knew. Speaking of keeping to himself, that's quite literally the opposite of what he did. Your responsibilities had somehow changed to not only taking care of Flora, but also Miles.

Mrs. Grose was seeing Miles improve while taking an active interest in school and excelling in his studies without causing bodily harm to another student. Probably because he had a new special interest that he inflected his sadistic nature on; You.

Though, you may have just found your escape thanks to Flora. She had mentioned Miles' 18th birthday, which was around the corner, which caused a lightbulb moment. At 18 he'd be considered an adult in the eyes of the law, though, it seemed he already knew what you were thinking.

"You still planning on leaving?"

You didn't respond, but it didn't bug Miles. Instead, you focused on folding clothes.

"You think when I turn 18, you can go to the police or something? Even if you were, what would you say? Besides, who do you think they'd be more... 'inclined' to believe?"

"You think they wouldn't believe me?" You finally respond, grabbing a shirt and folding it tightly.

He smiles, "I didn't say that. Money can make people do... irrational things."

"So you'd bribe them?"

"Extortion sounds better-"

"Extortion is like blackmail-"

"Which is what I'm doing to you." He reaches for a bowl of candy next to him and unwrapping a piece of hard candy. He pops it in his mouth, sucking. "Besides, if you were to leave, where would you go?"

"Anywhere," You offhandly remark, not putting to much aggression into it.

"You know if you stay, you could be happy," He gets up from his seat and walks towards you, though stops a foot away, "You'd never have money problems-"

"But I'd be stuck with you."

"You make that sound like a problem." He was angry and you could sense his aggression rising.

You decided to change the subject, "So, speaking of you turning 18, any plans?"

The mood quickly changed and you could sense the air had less tension.

"No. There's not much I want."

You could feel his gaze on you. Looking you up and down, like a predator watching it's prey, but it's probably how he saw you- prey. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Miles flickers his eyes up to your face, wishing you were looking at him. "Actually there's only one thing I want- from you anyway."

You huff, rolling your eyes, "In your dreams."

"Who's to say dreams can't become reality?"

---

You knew he had the keys somewhere in his room. Thankfully you had found the perfect moment to look when he was outside with Flora teaching her to ride the horses. You pulled out his nightstand only to be met with multiple torn-out porno magazine pages. They were obviously... used, but that wasn't the disgusting part.

The girls in the pages looked like you. Though you decided it was a coincidence... Sure, they had h/l [Hair Length], h/t [Hair Type] h/c hair. And so what if they had s/c skin and e/c eyes. It also didn't help that their bodies looked like yours.

You decided to stop looking at the pages and push past them while making a mental note to wash your hands. Your eyes nearly lit up when you saw metal. You reached for it, but froze when hearing a voice.

"What are you doing?"

You squeezed the keys inbetween your hands, before looking back at Miles. "Nothing. Just cleaning out your drawers."

He looks you up and down, his eyes being drawn to your hands, before looking back at your face, "Clean out my drawers? I don't need them cleaned."

"You need them deep cleaned-"

"I like it the way it is, so you can leave."

"Okay... Yeah." You get up, wipping your clothes, before walking past him.

"Oh, Y/n?"

You turn towards him, "Yeah."

"If you wanted to go through my sex stuff, you could just ask. I'm not ashamed. I'm more than happy to show you."

You felt a shiver run down your spine; Not a good shiver either, though you decide not to respond.

---

It was dark again. So dark you couldn't see a foot in front of you. You decided this time you could leave and you wouldn't stop if you heard him. You rushed down the stairs, trying to stay as quiet as possible, though a part of you didn't care.

You smiled when seeing the car- Though when you put the key in and turned, the car didn't start. You heard a knock on the window, causing you to groan because you already knew who it was. You manually rolled down the window before glaring at the male.

"You think I didn't know you grabbed the keys? Besides, I took out the battery the last time you tried to leave. You should have been smarter than that. Though, I find your efforts cute." He laughs, an evil laugh that just makes you angrier. He leans on the window, "So are you coming in or are you going to try and escape again?"

"You know this isn't the end, right?"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

#yandere x reader #yandere horror #yandere slasher #miles fairchild #yandere miles fairchild #yandere miles x reader #yandere miles fairchild x reader #miles x reader #miles fairchild x reader #the turning #yandere slasher x reader #yandere imagines #horror x reader

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sunkcost · 2 years

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i find it really interesting how in many ways jimmy is an inversion of the typical conman. we talk about how his cons are a way of taking back power or gaining a sense of control, but i don’t know that i’ve seen anyone point out (though i’m sure someone has) how his tendency to go after powerful people is the exact opposite of what most conmen do. usually a con artist or a scammer will go after whoever they see as most vulnerable, like a wolf picking off the weakest member of the heard. they target the people they think will be most likely to believe them, the more desperate or well-intentioned the better. jimmy’s father is singled out as a mark because he’s so eager to help people. they don’t care that he needs the money and they don’t feel bad about taking advantage of his kindness. jimmy's marks, in contrast, tend to be that same type of person. he pretends to be the vulnerable one, and rather than taking advantage of their willingness to help, he leads them to believe that they’re taking advantage of him.

the man that he and marco trick into buying the worthless coin involves himself as soon as he thinks they don’t want him listening. he says “hey, money talks” feeling that he just came out on top of someone else. they never directly sell him on anything. he took it upon himself to buy a coin that was being sold to another person. in the flashback in 1x04 the man yells “later, sucker” as he runs off with the fake rolex (which he thinks they stole off a semi-conscious man passed out in an alley, even if said man was a dick). both plans very clearly hinge on jimmy and marco appearing as the “suckers” and their ‘victim’ taking advantage of that of their own accord. you see it with the stockbroker he and kim scam in the first episode of s2 as well. they lure him in by presenting themselves as people who have lots of money to invest, don’t know what they’re doing, and are very suggestible and desperate for advice. after they leave he goes, “wow. just... wow.” as if he can’t believe his luck in finding two people with so much money that are so easy to manipulate. if you scam someone by pretending to be a mark, it would follow that the people you scam are people looking for marks, or at least are happy to seize the opportunity when it’s presented to them. even in s6, the first guy we see jimmy scamming as “viktor” is constantly trying to trick him into losing bets, unable to believe jimmy keeps falling for it and yet very much enjoying humiliating him and taking his money. jimmy targets walt, who sees himself as superior to those around him and bullies his wife and jesse more than anyone else, exploiting their emotional entanglement with him. the first person walt singles out to help him in his power trip is a drug addict, someone vulnerable that he feels will be easy to control. he prefers vulnerability to reliability, telling gus that he likes jesse because he can trust him and he does what he tells him to. jimmy never really engages with skyler and jesse in the same way walt does. he actually tries to help skyler deal with the man she cheated on walt with without telling walt, and uses walt’s money to do it. if you wanted to be generous (and i do) you could even read his attitude towards skyler, especially with regards to the car wash, as his half-hearted attempt to prevent her from becoming involved.

however, i think that the most glaring and clearly intentional contradiction in his conman role is his involvement with elder law, elderly people being the quintessential stereotype of a scam victim. despite the fact that “old people love him” and he’s clearly very good at charming them, his elder law practice is genuine. when marco asks if he’s “ripping off old people” he seems somewhat incredulous at the suggestion. far from exploiting them, he actually uncovers and exposes sandpiper crossing for defrauding their residents (a plot which repeatably brings up how vulnerable old people are to abuse and manipulation by citing various legal sanctions). the one time that he does manipulate his former clients as part of a ploy to close the sandpiper suit, his plan would actually result in them getting money, not losing it. when he realizes that his exploitation of their trust had real negative repercussions he calls it off and mitigates the damages by creating a situation that would cause them to see him as the bad guy, the kind of person who actually would happily manipulate and exploit old people without scruples, despite the fact that his elderly clients were some of the only people to genuinely like him. it doesn’t benefit him in any way and he actually says that he really doesn’t want to do it, but he makes the sacrifice anyway because he feels guilty that he exploited their trust in him.

chuck could be taken as another prime example of someone that the typical conman would see as a perfect victim: mentally ill, often desperate, vulnerable, and dependent on him. instead we’re immediately shown how upset jimmy is at the idea that howard is taking advantage of chuck (“wave bye-bye to your cash cow, ‘cause it’s leaving the pasture”). he switches the numbers only after he feels like chuck exploited kim’s hard work just because she had less power than him and he felt entitled to it. he only retaliates against chuck after he feels chuck knowingly and callously twisted his trust and concern against him. at the same time, they make absolutely clear that jimmy holds total legal power over chuck’s autonomy at multiple points and yet he only ever does what he thinks chuck would want him to, no matter how mad he is at him or how badly chuck’s hurt him. he’s uncomfortable with having the power in the first place, the thought of abusing it would never even cross his mind (not necessarily applauding him for this, but it’s still worth pointing out how it subverts the expectations associated with the archetype).

the only thing to snap him out of his dark, pain-fueled scam spiral at the end of the series is marion telling him, “i trusted you.” that phrase triggers something and all the fight appears to go out of him. he was relatively unfazed by the man with cancer, and to be honest, his argument wasn’t totally invalid. while having cancer certainly makes you vulnerable in many ways, it doesn’t really have anything to do with how trusting you are or if you’re easily manipulated or if you manipulate other people. the walt example wasn’t inappropriate. maybe jimmy wouldn’t have been as willing as “saul” or “viktor,” maybe he would, but if you’re looking at the criteria he uses to determine his marks, having cancer really isn’t relevant. this is different though. he’s manipulated plenty of people that may have been more vulnerable, but it’s always in service of a bigger plan and in a way that he thinks won’t hurt them (i.e. manipulating the sandpiper residents but only when he believes they would also benefit and willingly taking a hit to reverse the damage he caused after seeing his mistake). at first the nippy lie did seem to fall into those parameters. he wasn’t trying to hurt her in any way, he just wanted to get to jeff. the bleaker his mental state became, the less consideration he seemed to put into who he was hurting and why, but the second that he became cognizant of the fact that he’d manipulated a vulnerable person into trusting him, then exploited that trust, and was now about to see them suffer for it, he stopped cold. even at his darkest and cruelest, that was a horrifying realization.

none of this is exactly news, but plenty of people exploit and bully those they see as weaker or more vulnerable than them as a way to feel more powerful (walter white is a prime example of that. his entire arc is basically a how-to guide on it.), so i find it interesting that jimmy inverts the conman figure, which does represent that personality type in a lot of ways. his conning is still very much associated with power, but as much as he hates feeling small or weak or vulnerable or exploited or without control, he never turns around and takes it out on someone less powerful. it’s a weak person that claims victory by picking a fight with someone they know can’t hit back. that’s not to say he doesn’t do damage or he never hurts people who don’t deserve to be hurt (whatever that means), but in juxtaposition with walt it works perfectly. both stories follow men who make bad choices in an attempt to stop feeling powerless, but if there’s one thing jimmy’s never been, it’s a bully. to use the archetype of the con artist is genius because once you actually put jimmy in that mold it’s immediately obvious how badly he fits. he’s not shameless. his entire character arc is about shame and desperation for approval from others. he’s not ruthless. he’s overwhelmed by guilt over his own collateral damage. walt is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, using his harmless appearance to trick and attack those more vulnerable than himself. jimmy is a sheep in wolf’s camouflage, trying to cloak his own vulnerability by playing dress up with someone else’s clothes, clothes that never fit quite right.

#better call saul #*#actually really wish they'd kept his shitty too-big brba suits in the saul goodman scenes in bcs now #would really serve to illustrate my metaphor dflsdj #the more vulnerable the man the more extreme the costume #the more it starts to envelop him and he starts to disappear inside of it #the fact that he can only verbalize some things if it's part of a con #like #you can't exploit my vulnerability if i'm using my vulnerability to exploit you #he's very unwell i'm obsessed with him #and perfect ending having him shed his wolfskin #he's not becoming anything he wasn't already #he's not defanging himself #he's like... taking out the plastic fangs he got at party city DKLFSJ

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kirisaki-daichi-scenarios · 1 year

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Kiridai if Kiridai were involved in agriculture

Britain edition because I know little to nothing about Japanese agriculture

Hanamiya Makoto

Large animal and equine vet

The type of vet who sells various prescription drugs under the counter (or, to be specific, from the boot of his car): everyone knows and no one calls him out on it, because cheaper drugs are cheaper drugs

There’s a rumour that he used to be a specialist small animal cardiologist abroad, best in the country, and only moved because he may or may not have made an ethically dubious decision that may or may not have resulted in his breaking criminal law

But he also has a great eye for spotting lameness that another vet would miss, and in general his diagnoses are never wrong, so livestock owners flock to him because one consultation almost always gets the job done, and equine owners flock to him because he always finds a problem to explain their paranoia

Yamazaki Hiroshi

Has a flock of sheep in the Uplands

I.e. he spends lambing season in sideways rain and gales, getting soaked to the skin and swearing that he’ll give up on sheep, and yet he never does and never will

Breeds for meat, but dreams of a world where he could breed primarily for wool and earn a living from it

Has a couple wethers living in his house full time - all were orphaned at birth and thus hand-reared by him, making him too attached to them to send them to slaughter

Also has a slightly deranged collie that still hasn’t quite figured out why it has to leave said wethers alone but herd all the other sheep

Names as many of his sheep as his memory can manage, even though he knows it just makes the goodbyes harder

Furuhashi Kojiro

Flower farmer - has some bee hives on the side, and grows seasonal vegetables, but his primary focus/income is cut flowers

Has a good 400 varieties of flowers (everything from Achillea to Weigela) growing on his land for commercial use, most of which he will cut and organise for wedding and hotel arrangements and bouquets

Also grows his own rose breeds (one purple to red climbing rose; one mostly white with hints of purple Damask rose) but he rarely, if ever, sells any of the progeny. They’re practically his children, after all - you don’t sell your children

Some of them will see the inside of rose shows, and the climbing rose has been planted at a rose garden, but otherwise they spend his days in his garden

Meanwhile, the other flowers and the foliage both get sold throughout the year, as does the honey and the vegetables (at the local village market), and, though he doesn’t love cutting them, he doesn’t miss them like he would the roses

Doesn’t use any insecticide or herbicide and very much judges flower farmers that do

If he’s not silently tending to his plants for hours on end, then he’s grumbling about the loss of insects, and if he’s not grumbling about the loss of insects, he’s frowning reading the latest reports on climate change

His plans for the future involve an exceptionally sharp pair of scissors and a Bonsai tree

Seto Kentato

Large animal vet

Tried small animal for a while, and then equine, but neither worked because he found the owners talked too much or ‘loved their animals too much’ (aka made them obese). Hence moving onto, and sticking with, large animal.

The farmers he works with know that he doesn’t like to talk too much, and can be brusque, but none of them care because he’s the best large animal vet in the area

Doesn’t particularly like cows but, for reasons unknown, cows really like him (and bulls despise him)

Can be found sleeping at the back of the clinic whenever he’s not on call

Thinking about getting some training and specialising in large zoo animals, for the added challenge - something about rhinos and elephants is calling his name

Hara Kazuya

He was a man child struggling with boredom and too much money for his own good, who therefore decided he’d try his hand at farming

Wasn’t initially sure what to farm - at one point, he was seriously considering snails - until he read that the ostrich industry had collapsed because no one could figure out how to keep them healthy in the UK. And he took that as a challenge.

Hence Hara, the ostrich farmer.

Went through a phase where he had his hair dyed half black and half white, to rep the ostriches

Keeps saying he’ll get a dangerous animal license, so he can get some pet zebras to continue with “the theme”… the mad* lad might just do it

He’s also the kind of owner to ask whether he can give his ostriches weed to help them chill out “because it works for people in the States”… it’s safe to say that his local vets avoid doing his call-outs as much as possible,

The ostriches like him though :)

The business is profitable, the animals are healthy so clearly he’s doing something right

*and by mad, I mean despicable. do not keep wild animals as pets.

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ipsen · 9 months

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Blank Canvas Chapter 6

Read on AO3. Summary: Kaneki breaks the law to see a serial killer. Word Count: 4183 Chapter 7 Chapter 5 Master Post

Kaneki left his and Hide’s apartment at midnight.

What was he doing?

He caught the final trains to travel from the 12th ward to the 23rd.

What was he doing?

Armed with little else but his wits and his bag, he crossed the now-empty streets and into dark alleys as per Takatsuki’s helpful, if cryptic, directions.

What was he doing?

And that was how he, Ken Kaneki, also known as Haise Sasaki, came to stand in front of the fence around Cochlea, the prison for life-sentence and death-row inmates, at 2AM on a midsummer night with Sen Takatsuki.

Apparently, she had a contact on the inside that could get them a conversation with certain inmates, but they had to visit outside of operating hours to do it. Which was definitely illegal and, worst case scenario, could land them in the very prison they were about to enter.

“Um, T-Takatsuki…” He swallowed. “When I said I was ‘curious’ about meeting a serial killer—”

“No time like the present!” Before he could continue, she, in a surprising motion, scrambled up the fence and landed safely on the other side. Oh, she was athletic too. Huh. Wait, this was not the time for that. He— They— really shouldn’t be here.

She wiped her hands on her skirt and glanced up. With the addition of the lights around the prison, he saw she had low-hanging pigtails for tonight. It was a cute look stop. “You coming, Haise? I’m leaving you behind if you don’t.”

“I-I—”

“If you’re worried about getting caught, I’m pretty sure we can take a guard or two.” The burning lights of Cochlea cast a sharp shadow over her face, but Kaneki knew she was grinning. “‘Strength in numbers’ and all that.”

“B-But—”

Takatsuki turned on her heel and started walking away, forcing him to choose between leaving her alone and standing in the dark and quivering in his boots alone.

With his fists like iron and an utter of something between a groan and a warcry, he ran at the fence and scaled it with ease, though he landed with an uncomfortably loud thump.

She whistled. “Impressive. You honestly didn’t strike me as the athletic type.”

“M-My friend’s always dragging me to her judo classes,” he admitted, rubbing his neck.

“Huh…” There was a beat as she digested the information. Was there something weird about that? He hoped not. “I see. Well, come on, then. Don’t wanna be caught with our pants down.”

Right, right. She led him to the side of the visitors’ center. The whole time, his gaze darted this way and that, half-expecting a security guard to round the corner and ruin their lives forever. The past few months had been one thing, but breaking into Washuu property was an entirely different thing. And the way Takatsuki talked about it made it seem like she’d done this before.

Who was she?

They arrived at a small door with a ‘STAFF ONLY’ sign on it. Takatsuki boldly reached out to turn the handle when she noticed something.

“Shit, they added a keypad,” she muttered. “Well, he probably knows it’s us.”

Who was ‘he’? Before Kaneki could ask, she cleared her throat and rapped her knuckles on the door, nearly making him jump out of his skin. “Big Bin!!” she called way too loud. “It’s me!”

“What are you doing?” he practically hissed. “What if someone hears us?!”

She laughed. “We’ll be fine.”

It did nothing to assuage his fears. She took the time to inhale the scent of their new surroundings and did a twirl. It would have been mesmerizing in any other setting. “Exciting, isn’t it?”

Was it? His pounding heart and sweaty feet begged to differ. “We could get arrested…”

“And?” She glanced at him. “They won’t catch us if we’re smart. Plus, Bin will cover us when it comes to security footage, so I wouldn’t worry.”

If everything went according to plan, then yes, Takatsuki made a good point, but—

“You’re already in; I really don’t see the point in lamenting it now.” The door made a clicking noise and she opened it, giving him no choice but to follow her in. “And it’s not like we’re stupid enough to take anyone with us.”

They seemed to have entered some sort of electric room based on the unpainted walls and the loud hum of a large metal box nearby. The lights were dimmer than outside but no less white, and Kaneki occasionally had to duck to avoid a stray pipe going from wall to wall.

They came to another door, and she led him into the main hall, which looked much more visitor-friendly than the outside. He felt a bit more at ease in the space, and took a moment to calm himself and breathe.

There was a reception desk, and manning it was a man with sunglasses and wild black hair, which clashed with the collar shirt and belted pants expected of security guards. “Hey, Sen.” He yawned. “I see you’ve brought company this time.”

“Big Bin!” Takatsuki waved back, trotting to the desk. “This is Haise! He’s my artist.”

“Oh, this is the artist, huh?” Big Bin looked him up and down. “Name’s Bin.”

“P-Pleasure,” Kaneki gave a quick bow.

Big Bin wore a sympathetic smile. “First time, eh? Sen, you sure you shoulda dragged him here? I mean—”

“He’s here, isn’t he?” Takatsuki tapped Kaneki’s arm and made him flinch. “It means he’s got guts.”

Kaneki scratched his head. “I guess…”

Big Bin looked between them for a moment, then shrugged. “Alright, I’ll get you set up with the… Priest, was it?”

Kaneki blanched.

“Yep!” Takatsuki chirped.

—

The Priest, an infamous serial killer otherwise known as Donato Porpora. An immigrant from Russia, his M.O. was an unmarked cross atop the victim’s neatly folded clothing. The body itself was butchered and fed to the orphans he cared for. In a strange twist of fate, that same act of taking lives was the one to save his own; he had taken such good care of the orphans that he was not placed on death row and instead placed in Cochlea for the rest of his life. That was thirteen years ago now.

He was also the one responsible for killing Kurona and Nashiro’s father.

Kaneki and Takatsuki were taken directly to Donato’s cell, where the only thing separating them was a makeshift desk and a sheet of glass with holes on top for ventilation. The rest of the room was made of solid steel. Peering behind the glass, Kaneki noticed the tiny bed Donato slept in, along with a small table against the back wall with various books and writings organized neatly on top of it. For a crazed killer, he was surprisingly organized.

“Sasaki, just so you know,” Big Bin’s words echoed in Kaneki’s head, “he may be out of practice, but he ran a confessional at his orphanage. So whatever you do, don’t let him get inside your head.”

Donato was doing some stretches when Kaneki and Takatsuki walked in.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Donato said, grinning as he took his seat. “I was told I had a visitor, but I suppose it was only ever going to be you.”

Takatsuki gave a practiced smile: the one Kaneki knew as fake. “Hello, Donato.”

He crossed his legs and chuckled. “Come to pick my brain again, then? Though I can’t help but notice you’re not alone this time…”

“This is Haise; he’s my new assistant for my next story.”

Donato made Kaneki feel as though he were being undressed by gaze alone. “Oh? And here I was, thinking you had retired; I’m glad to be wrong. These last three years have been rather… lacking without your work on the shelves.”

“You’re too kind.” She took out her notepad and sat down.

“I must know: why go to me again? I thought everything I told you last time went into The Black Goat’s Egg and The Hanged Man’s MacGuffin.” He grinned.

Kaneki swallowed. He thought the mother’s murders in the story were familiar. The gruesome descriptions when she cut up her latest victim evoked almost a sort of ritualistic carving, like a butcher brutally but cleanly severing a pig’s head. Now he realized those descriptions had had a primary source.

Takatsuki’s expression shifted to one of rare annoyance. She spun her pen between her fingers to focus. “You didn’t tell me everything, so I’m back. Simple as that.”

Donato, brow raised in amusement, gestured for her to continue.

“What’s your opinion on people in your profession getting hired?”

Kaneki gaped at her. Just like that?

Donato just chuckled. “You certainly come up with interesting ideas.”

“I am a writer,” she quipped, returning to that pleasant but tight smile. “I just want to make sure I’m representing your trade properly. Nobody likes a fish out of water unless they want to eat it.”

“Well, I suppose I would be lying if I hadn’t received my fair share of offers in my time,” Donato checked his nails, recalling what might be considered better times, “but if you’re going to ask who those might be, I cannot help you.”

A shadow crossed her expression. “Oh, I don’t need names. I just need to know what sorts of targets you got. Were they political figures? Celebrities? The homeless? Were you offered anything overseas? How about—”

Donato listened carefully to each query, but his gaze wandered to Kaneki soon enough, and Kaneki shifted in his seat.

“Sen,” he said, putting up a hand to stop her. “I will answer your questions, but I will require something in exchange.”

Takatsuki’s brow furrowed, almost like she was glaring. “Depends.”

“I’d like to ask your assistant a few questions. Preferably alone.”

It took all of Kaneki’s willpower not to point at himself. Him? Alone? With a serial killer? Sure, there were measures to make sure Donato didn’t strangle him through the glass and use his bones as a lockpick, but— alone?

“No.”

“No?” Donato repeated.

“You heard me. No.” She stood up. “I guess I’ve wasted my time. Come on, Haise.”

“You haven’t even given him a choice,” Donato pointed out. “At least hear him out.”

She hesitated, but glanced at Kaneki. “What do you think?”

Kaneki frowned. It seemed unlikely they would get another opportunity like this; Donato clearly knew something about what she was asking. It would be key to progressing the story forward. While the main character, Fushimi, and his investigation were generally laid out, the nature of the antagonists— the mysterious lobbyist organization called the Hierophants— and their serial killer partners were still a mystery. If Donato could be of any help, then a simple request seemed paltry in comparison.

Yet for some reason, Takatsuki was ready to give up that information. All because of Kaneki’s inexperience. It was his fault. As usual. Hide still paid Kaneki’s half of the rent. Touka and Yoriko still gave him free pastries. Even at his own job, he still got free meals out of it when he went with— no, he didn’t go with; he followed, like the mindless sheep he was— Takatsuki. He was still a burden.

No more. She needed answers, and he was tired of being helpless.

Takatsuki shrugged. “I guess that’s no deal, Donato. We’ll just be—”

“I’ll do it.”

Now it was her turn to gape at him. “Haise—!”

“I-I’ll do it!” Kaneki declared a little louder.

“What’re you—”

“The boy’s spoken, Sen.” Donato grinned a little wider. “I think we should respect his… tenacity.”

She lingered on Kaneki for a bit longer, searching for something or trying to decide what to say. But nothing came out of her mouth.

“I-I’ll be okay. Really.” Kaneki hated how he stammered, but he wanted to make her feel a bit more confident in him. He had to be his own person.

Eventually, she relented, and she stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be in the waiting room. Don’t stay any longer than you want to.”

It was reassuring at best, and frightening at worst. “I-I won’t.”

“I mean it, Haise.” There was a strange aspect to her voice, like a trembling tower before it collapsed.

He nodded and gave her his best smile. It was returned half-heartedly.

She shot a look at Donato he couldn’t decipher before stepping out of the room. The light in the room hummed above them, and without Takatsuki’s voice and energy filling the air, Kaneki realized just how suffocating it really was. This atmosphere would drive him crazy if he stayed long enough; he couldn’t even begin to imagine how Donato could live here.

“She’s charming, don’t you think?” Donato looked amused.

“I-I suppose so.” Kaneki rubbed his chin idly. That was an understatement, in his opinion.

“This is your first time in Cochlea, isn’t it? What do you think?”

He shouldn’t answer the first question, but the second one was probably okay. “It’s large.”

“Hm. So it is.” Donato glanced down at Kaneki’s bag. “What do you have in there?”

Definitely don’t answer that.

“Allow me to guess: books.”

Kaneki tensed up, and it was over.

“It was an easy guess, don’t worry. Sen prefers company with other readers.” He stood and walked to the back of the room, picking up one of the books there. “I find myself agreeing; intelligent company is often more pleasing than not.”

Kaneki hated how much he agreed. People who read books and understood their content were surprisingly few and far between. It was why when Rize left him— No, stop that. That’s in the past.

Donato chuckled and took his seat again. “There’s no need to be so tense, Haise. You can be honest with me; it is not as if I will be leaving this place.” He gestured to the egregiously shiny walls and thick glass separating them. “And even if I could, I doubt there is a comfortable life awaiting me. Always on the run, with no way to truly and peacefully enjoy my favorite pastime… No, those days are long gone, and wishing for them will not bring them back.”

Pastime, as in murder. Cannibalization.

“It is better here, where I get two meals and an hour’s worth of exercise a day. On weekends, I even get taken to see the sky.”

And he would repeat this until he died in this very cell. At that thought, Kaneki’s brow furrowed; even for the man who made Kurona and Nashiro’s lives miserable, it seemed a bit much to treat anyone like that. At some point, even the death penalty seemed more humane. “Is… Is that all…?”

Donato laughed. “Is that pity I detect, Haise? Sen certainly has a strange taste in friends.”

He cradled his hands, and started pressing down on his knuckles, one at a time, with the opposite thumb until it cracked. Kaneki winced each time. He wondered if Donato had strangled Mr. Yasuhisa with those hands. What did it feel like, taking someone away from everyone they cared about? What did it feel like, knowing that one action could permanently change someone you’d never met?

“I was given a copy of both The Black Goat’s Egg and The Hanged Man’s MacGuffin when they were released, as compensation for the information I provided. It was… enlightening, so to speak.”

Crack. Crack.

Perhaps Cochlea had served as inspiration for the latter book. Donato’s routine, if it was true, was lifted directly from reality to be placed on the page, though with some minor changes to appear more cruel and unusual.

“For a moment, I almost felt as though there was finally someone on the other side of my cell that saw me—” Crack. Crack— “or at least, they saw my situation.”

With every finger done, he rested his hands back in his lap and smiled. Kaneki was made even more uncomfortable by it.

“They must have caused quite the stir amongst the masses when they released in the order they did. She always has been a bit of a boat-rocker. Ever since she was young…” Donato trailed off, his gaze passing Kaneki and settling elsewhere. “Ah, but that is not my place to say. We are never truly alone except with our thoughts.”

“You… knew her as a child?” Kaneki couldn’t help but ask.

“Just in passing.” Donato smiled back, but there was a thin coat of poison on his lips. “I do not envy her.”

Kaneki briefly glanced behind him, toward the waiting room. Takatsuki having a hard life was a bit hard to imagine, he had to admit. She was friendly, intelligent, and clearly well off. The idea of someone like that falling through the cracks… Well, maybe it wasn’t so hard after all. Failure due to outside circumstances came to people surprisingly easy. As for the nature of that failure, and how a serial killer like the Priest could know about it— that was the difficult part.

“You seem to still be on edge, Haise.” Donato leaned forward. “I may be out of practice, but I know a thing or two about confessing.”

“N-No thank you…” he muttered, curling his toes in his shoes. “Even if I’m… sympathetic to your plight, you still—”

— killed people. Killed Mr. Yasuhisa. Made Kurona and Nashiro miserable for the rest of their lives. Destroyed homes. Destroyed families and friends. Destroyed.

It earned him another chuckle from Donato. “You seem to be familiar with my work. Am I wrong?”

Kaneki shook his head after some hesitation. “I… know the children of one of your victims.”

“A shame, then.” Donato shrugged. “If it is of any consolation, none of my killings were personal. Not really.”

Kaneki grimaced. It meant nothing. He wasn’t even a victim and it meant nothing.

“I am a survivor, first and foremost. I do what I must to feed who I must, and that includes myself.” Donato’s eyes once again wandered over the exposed parts of Kaneki’s body. “And even if I were out and about, you aren’t nearly close enough to my… type.”

‘Type’, as in ‘victim’. The statement made Kaneki want nothing more than to stand up and leave. But he had to stay so that he— therefore Takatsuki— could get what he had.

“What, um… What is your ‘type’?” he asked quietly.

Donato smirked, as though he were waiting for that question. “What else do you know about my work?”

What was it with meeting people who wanted to test him? “I-I know you fed your victims to the orphans in your care…” he mumbled, fighting a queasy stomach. It was on a documentary Hide and he had watched a long time ago.

“Yes, I did. And what do you know about my orphanage?”

“It was the sole reason you weren’t put on death row.” He rested his chin in his hand. “The orphans were intelligent and… well-fed.”

The orphanage was rather sizable, especially for how it was run by not only a single man, but a priest at that. Feeding all those mouths regularly, even with donations and the other components of a healthy meal—

He glanced up at Donato. “You preferred heavier people.”

Yet as he said it, he also knew that didn’t make sense. He had never met Mr. Yasuhisa in person, but he had seen pictures; Mr. Yasuhisa was wiry in every single one, even in one taken mere weeks before his death.

… Takatsuki had asked if he’d been approached for ‘hiring’. Was Mr. Yasuhisa targeted? And if so, by who?

Donato watched the gears in Kaneki’s brain turn. “Sometimes, Haise, when confronting a ‘child’, one must explore the circumstances of the ‘parent’.”

Kaneki blinked, confused. What did that—

“You will find everything you need in my case file.” He smiled venomously. “Good luck, Haise.”

What? What made him think Kaneki could access a government case file? Maybe it was a riddle; Donato seemed the type to like those. How strange that Kaneki would have something in common with a mass murderer.

He went to the door, but then remembered—

“Mr. Porpora,” he turned back around, “I had a question for you.”

“Oh?” Donato, the convicted serial killer, looked surprised. “Ask away.”

“Why do you help Takatsuki?”

A shadow dashed across his face, lancing through Kaneki and exiting through the door. “Vengeance.”

———

Kaneki found Takatsuki swinging her legs in one of the waiting room chairs, playing with her pen between her nose and lip and reading her notebook. On another day, he would have thought it charming, but Donato’s final words rang in his head, coloring his view.

Vengeance. What did that mean? Combined with her pinpoint question about assassination and the disparity between Donato’s ‘type’ and Mr. Yasuhisa… It couldn’t be a coincidence. She knew something Kaneki didn’t, and she wasn’t telling him.

But why? What wasn’t he supposed to know? Who exactly was he working with?

Who was Sen Takatsuki?

When she saw him shuffle in, she shot up from her seat. “Haise!” She rushed over. “Are you okay?”

“O-Oh, um, yeah.” He was on a slippery slope now; to trip would be to lose everything. “I-It was actually pretty alright…” He needed a plan. He needed—

She gripped either side of his shoulders. “Don’t you ever do that again. Okay?”

What? “What?”

“Donato is dangerous; he’s called the Priest because he was one, and that means he has all the skills that come with it! What you did was stupid and reckless and— and pointless!” She was scowling at him, but her eyes gently wavered. “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of risk-taking, but he doesn’t need a weapon to hurt you.”

Kaneki pursed his lips and looked away. “I-I’m sorry…”

Takatsuki paused, then sighed. “No, no, stop that; I’m sorry. I… got carried away, inviting you here, and I pressured you into doing something you clearly weren’t comfortable with.”

He shook his head and gave a small smile. “Well, we’re already on the other side of the fence, aren’t we?”

“I—!” She sighed again, a defeated smile on her face. “Alright, fine. You got me. Punk…”

He chuckled. “I’ll, uh, take that as a compliment.”

“Sure.” She took out her pen and clicked it a few times. “So, what did Donato tell you?”

Kaneki explained his conversation with Donato to her, but he left out the last part regarding his question and Donato’s answer. She kept her eyes glued to the notebook, taking notes in disquieting focus. She snapped it shut when she was done.

“Alright, be right back; I still have my own questions,” she said, and marched right back into the lion’s den.

Kaneki stared at her back as she disappeared behind the door. She had worried about him and apologized.

She… She cared about him. Him, Ken Kaneki. On some level. Oh, but of course she did. They were coworkers! Coworkers cared about each other. Stupid…

What was he thinking earlier? Donato was a serial killer who probably made his own fun by sending his visitors on wild goose chases. Kaneki, as a new face, was probably a rare opportunity to conjure up something different, especially with Donato’s apparent history with Takatsuki. He was just trying to turn Kaneki against her.

Well, it wouldn’t work.

Vengeance.

It wouldn’t.

———

“It’s rare for you to be so indecisive.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t want him to find out, yet you brought him here. Counterproductive, if you ask me; it’s new for you. Exciting, even.”

“You’re lecturing me about being counterproductive?”

“… We aren’t talking about me; we’re talking about you. What will you do if he finds out?”

“That’s not important.”

“I thought we promised not to lie in front of each other.”

“It wasn’t a lie.”

“Not to me, hm hm hm… Very well, if you will not tell, allow me to guess. You’re afraid of yourself, yet you want to be known. You want others to know what you are, yet you conceal the truth because you are afraid of being let go. And this boy… You want him, don’t you?”

“…”

“It’s so obvious it’s painful, even to someone like me. You’re so easy to attach yourself to someone who might not even understand you; I thought you would have learned by now. Pitiful.”

“… And what about you?”

“Hm?”

“What. About. You? I know you send Amon letters, and I know he doesn’t respond to you. Why would he? You’re the reason he was sent to yet another orphanage, irreversibly separated from his siblings. You’re the reason he has no father, and you will die as the reason. No matter how many times you get to see the sky, no matter how much you can appreciate that your children are looking at the same sight, you will never see them again. You will die alone and unloved, so really, the only thing pitiful here is you.”

“… There you are, •|».”

“Shut up. Now, about your ‘hirers’…”

———

To: Chie Hello, Chie. Can I ask a favor?

#blank canvas #fanfic #writing #and today's cameo is mr crown the clown himself #donato porpora #it's donato

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monstersdownthepath · 1 year

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So what are the Velstrac?

Before we get into our impromptu Theme Month, how about we take a look at its subject?

The Velstrac, also known as the Kyton to most mortals, are the debased and detached rulers of the Plane of Shadow. As many know them, they are kidnappers, torturers, sadists, and madmen. In reality... this is almost entirely correct, though not without a sufficiently twisted reason.

The first of the velstrac were born from the debased and selfish thoughts of mortalkind, their appearance and mannerisms so disgusting and vile that the gods collectively agreed to chain them as deeply in Hell as they possibly could in a manner similar to how they handled their wayward Titans. Like all things shunned, imprisoned, and abandoned by the gods, though, they eventually broke free... or, depending on what accounts you believe, were freed by Doloras, Our Lady in Pain, or followed in the footsteps of Aroggus, one of their own, as he fled (though the current “accepted” theory combines both). They took up residence in the Plane of Shadow, called to it by the darkness... and, perhaps, the echoes of madness emanating from the prison of Zon-Kuthon, the god of pain, envy, and loss.

The velstrac’s presence in the Plane of Shadow does not predate Zon-Kuthon’s imprisonment, but they do predate his release quite considerably. Having been freed a mere 10,000 years ago, Zon-Kuthon has nonetheless quickly made a name for himself among the like-minded fans of torture and sadomasochism, establishing him as their greatest visionary in the arts of drawing screams from hapless victims.

But what are they?

Velstrac are artists

To know what they are, one must understand their drive: Unlike other Lawful Evil fiends (like the devils they share borders and towns with), the primary motivation for the velstrac as a whole isn’t conquest. Instead, they embody the Law in Lawful Evil via the enforcement of their will on the universe... their aesthetic will. In their own twisted ways, each velstrac wishes to create, but their chosen medium is living flesh, and they often create by destroying. As it goes, they quickly hit walls when it comes to butchering themselves into new and novel shapes, and turn their knives outwards in search of others to practice on. Whether it’s searching for a specific type of pain, finding the perfect pitch in their screaming, reshaping their mind with prolonged mental torture, or the reshaping of the victim’s flesh altogether, each velstrac wishes to bring terrible harm upon others until the others are transformed into something more befitting of the shadowy fiend’s tastes.

Velstrac are scattered

On an individual scale, velstrac rarely make long-term plans, preferring instead to chase their inspiration and hone their skills on whatever fools manage to catch their attention. They are largely isolated creatures, like daemons, each working on their own personal projects and collaborating only if their ideas cross over with one another. They possess a very loose hierarchy and no true government, though the highest echelons of this hierarchy is occupied by the Demagogues, whose works are entirely comprised of new and esoteric forms of suffering. They do not lead so much as hold sway over a large collection of fanatic fans, many of which hoping to impress their favorite artist, or play some part in their next project, one way or another. If anyone among this fiendish race is going to be concocting a century-spanning plot with world-shaking implications, it’s going to be a Demagogue hoping to unveil their new magnum opus or chase an avant-garde idea to its most destructive conclusion.

The most unified group of velstrac are the ones who serve Zon-Kuthon, working to increase their fel god’s power and influence in the worlds beyond their darkened plane and bring him souls to enact his depredations upon.

Velstrac are devilish

In many senses, the velstrac share more than hellish origins with the devils. They, too, transform mortal souls into more of their own through prolonged and excruciating torture, though they do so on a 1:1 basis, one of the few fiendish races to be able to do so besides the demons... were it not for the acceptable losses during the transformation process, assuring they don’t become as numerous as the demons have. Lacking the mechanisms of Hell to harvest souls for them, velstrac must seek out like-minded souls to undergo the hideous process of transforming them, and will go to any length to get such souls into the Plane of Shadow so no other afterlife can claim them... but because the depraved and masochistic are slated to become new members of their kind, that means they must go elsewhere to find materials to actually work with and hone their crafts.

Enter the shadowy bargains and mercenary work.

Like all Outsiders, velstrac can be called via magic or by frantic prayer. However, they can--and do--offer their services to sadists and monsters who can assure them a steady supply of flesh and blood to work upon, entering unofficial contracts they respect to the letter due to their Lawful nature (an especially enterprising velstrac may get a devil to pen the contract for them, enforcing it with Hell’s power). Poor and unfortunate captured souls are tormented in life and, if the velstrac has its way, long after their death, the horrors arranging for the gutted but still-living carcass to be transported to the Plane of Shadow so their brethren can pounce upon their soul the instant they finally die to continue their work, no longer constrained by the limits of flesh. This assures at least two souls: the victim, stolen from the cycle of souls, and the one who signed the pact, condemned to the Plane of Shadow to be transformed.

They possess physical similarities as well; like devils, silver is the most effective weapon against the velstrac. Silver weapons bypass their Damage Reduction, and the Regeneration possessed even by the least of their kind (necessary to survive the wounds they often and eagerly inflict on themselves) is suppressed primarily by damage from silver weapons, though most of them can also be harmed by Good-aligned spells and weapons.

#Pathfinder #Scourge Season Month

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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 2 months

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Danger Force Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 1

Episode 1: The Danger Force Awakens

Season 1 Masterlist

*Welcome! If you don't know, I did the entirety of Henry Danger before this series, and whilst this could technically be read as a stand-alone story, reading the older books first would probably help everything make sense!

Click for vibes

Fun fact: I actually designed Miss Danger's new uniform first and then worked backwards to create a simpler version for the older one. So, I've had this design saved for a very long time!

Happy reading :)

~Swellview Academy for the Gifted~

If someone had said to (y/n) (y/l/n) that she'd one day end up as a teacher, she would've laughed in their face.

Engineer? Sure. It's what she'd always wanted to be. Superheroine? Sure - it wasn't so far-fetched after she met her beloved doofus. But teacher? She didn't think she was the type.

For years, her nerves made her too anxious in front of a crowd, especially one made up of teenagers, and everyone knows how cruel they can be. She always assumed she'd run a junk shop whilst moonlighting as a crimefighter; there was never time for anything else.

But things were different now--very different to how they'd been a few weeks prior. One door closed, and another opened, precisely to her and her husband's new venture - SWAG.

School was in session, and once she got into the swing of things and laid down the law, the kids were surprisingly eager to learn. They didn't jeer or make fun of her like in her nightmares; they just sat there, hanging onto her every word as she began the basics of a superhero's training.

She was the sensible one - what was new? - giving them genuine advice whilst Ray and Schwoz ran more...eccentric classes. But one thing stood out to Miles, Mila, Chapa, and Bose. They'd been at school for weeks, turning blind eyes to their professors' lovey-dovey hugs, kisses, and God knows what else, but they hadn't learned anything. Not really.

When Captain Man and Miss Danger said they'd train them to be outstanding heroes, they expected explosions, gun fights, and criminal takedowns, not homework, essays, and pop quizzes. And it wouldn't be so bad if it was helpful like it was at the beginning. It seemed like the adults were running out of things to say, keeping them glued to their desks without giving any practical guidance.

Theoretical knowledge wouldn't help in the real world, but tell that to Schwoz.

"Okay...time to practice your lying!" The bizarre man announced to a series of grumbles as he hurried through SWAG's classroom, heading for the lectern where (y/n) was standing.

Using her PearPad, she flicked the first slide of the slideshow onto the large Smartboard, knowing that this was what her doofus wanted her to teach. It wasn't like they liked this crap, even though telling fibs was a helpful skill. The kids were...amateurs, at best, totally unprepared and unskilled for a world of horror and violence. So, they were breaking them in gently, although they couldn't let them know.

"Hey, come on! Listen to Schwoz..." the heroine gently scolded the moody children, who slouched in their seats at the thought of another boring lesson. But, they respected Miss Danger, thinking she was kind and considerate, much more than her man-child of a husband, so they paid attention - sort of.

"My friend is on fire. I must run to pour water on his face!" Schwoz read aloud, following the crappy lie he'd invented on the screen. It was strange and unbelievable, but still, he smiled at the kids and directed them to repeat after him.

"My friend is on fire, and--I'm really the only one doing this?" Mika frowned, starting off strongly with her usual enthusiasm. Still, she quickly stopped when she realised her brother and friends weren't joining. She was the try-hard of the group, and whilst she could cope with Captain Man's weird lesson plans, the others certainly couldn't.

Chapa sighed, her face twisting into its signature scowl as she leaned forward on her elbows, directing her fury mainly at the bald weirdo teaching them nonsense. She wasn't mad at Mrs. Manchester since she was sweet and generous and gave them self-defence classes, but Schwoz? Yeah, he was just Ray's yes-man.

"As fun as it is to practice lying all day, it's not fun at all, and I hate it!" She spat, a momentarily sweet smile turning into a snarl.

"Hate is a very strong word..." Miles spoke up, straightening himself out after reclining in his chair with his feet on the desk. He looked at his friend across the way with a typically serene expression - he'd always been into all that zen shit, but even he couldn't stand this.

"And in this case... It's accurate."

"What they're trying to say is that Captain Man and Miss Danger bought this school to teach us how to be superheroes..." Mika explained diplomatically, trying not to tread on her teacher's toes, but she understood her friends' frustration. This shit was boring...

"But if all we do is--"

"Guys, I know that this isn't the most...stimulating of lessons," (y/n) started, holding her hands up in confession, but it was either this or sending them into the fray to get pummelled. And honestly, she couldn't think of how many lies she'd had to tell to keep their operation secret.

"But lying is a very important of being a superhero! We have to know how to protect our secret identities!"

"You know what, though, (y/n/n)? We didn't ask for these powers!" Chapa argued, sending her tutors into eye-rolls and groans because this story was getting old. They loved to complain about how they didn't choose this life or whatever - like Ray and his sweet girl had a choice about their powers, either

"Oh, here we go..." Schwoz groaned, knowing they were about to launch into a dramatic retelling of how Swellview's favourite heroes - and some new friends - saved the city from a terrible foe.

"Yeah, Schwoz built the weapon that blew up and gave 'em to us when Captain Man, Miss Danger, and Kid Danger fought Drex!" Miles chuckled as the handyman stood there, hands on his hips, looking unimpressed at their ridicule.

"Yeah, you were all--ayeeeee, there's a caveman on top of meeee!" Bose joked in a poor imitation of the small man, but still, it made his friends laugh. And (y/n), honestly - she couldn't help but giggle.

"Why is that funny? (y/n), stop laughing with them! A caveman really was on top of me!" Schwoz exclaimed exasperatedly, losing control over his classroom as his co-teacher smothered her laughter - poorly.

The more they laughed, the more riled up the kids were, ignoring his tittering to quiet down and resume the lesson; they just wanted to remember how awesome it was to be in the heat of battle when they gained the powers that got them here. Well, not Mika yet, but definitely for the others.

"And Mika was all..."

"Kid Danger needs help!" The girl exclaimed as she stood up dramatically, hands poised on her hips like any good superhero. God, all she needed was a fan blowing her hair and some epic music...

"And Captain Man and Miss Danger were like..."

"Just shoot us!" Chapa growled, re-enacting how the lovers wrestled to keep their archenemy in front of the Omega Weapon, even though it meant sacrificing their superpowers. Oh, well - they came back eventually.

"But Kid Danger said..."

"If I blast you, you won't be indestructible anymore! And you won't have your super-regeneration!" Miles exclaimed nobly, channelling every bit of the former sidekick's bravery into his words. It was almost enough to make (y/n) tear up, thinking about her babies and how far away they were...

"Neither will Drex. Now, shoot us, you quitter!" Chapa growled, perfectly imitating Ray and how he still held that grudge for Henry after he quit. He was such a drama queen, but the fight was epic, covering everyone in glory--except for Schwoz. And he was still salty about that - where was his superpower, huh?

"I hit a caveman on the head. I was helping..." he muttered bitterly as (y/n) patted his shoulder, knowing he helped in his own way.

"And then, Kid Danger was like..."

"Hold onto your hoses!" Mile's body shook as he pretended to fire the Omega Weapon, turning his voice robotic and powerful as the 'blast' hit his friends, making them flail their arms in the air. Too bad they didn't take drama classes...

"Explosion!" Bose shouted in a deep, drawn-out cry like they were all in slow motion. The kids fell into their seats or onto their desks, pretending they were unconscious like they were after the battle, and whilst (y/n) appreciated their reverence - after all, that was the night she gained her second superpower - she still liked to have order amongst her pupils.

"Yeah, guys. We were there. We know what happened..." she said dryly, folding her arms and waiting for them to sit up.

"And now, I can..." However, the boy carried on, lifting his head from his desk as he tried to remember his power. Poor guy had a good heart, but brainpower wasn't his strong point, leaving him clueless and helpless more times than (y/n) cared to remember.

"Wait, what's my superpower again?"

"You can move things with your mind..." Mika reminded him, her tone slow and gentle like she was talking to a toddler. Still, Bose looked confused, looking at his hands and wondering at their ability, which he swore was something else.

"I thought that was Chapa," he said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder to the unamused girl behind him.

"No, I can shoot lightning bolts from my hands!" She corrected him, having had a few mishaps in the first few weeks. She was getting better at using them - they all were - but kept zapping things unintentionally--like (y/n) 's third-favourite sweater.

"Sick. Then, what's Miles' power?" Bose asked - as if he hadn't been friends with everyone for a month or so.

"He can teleport anywhere in the world," (y/n) explained tiredly, feeling the exhaustion seeping into her bones again as she remembered how difficult it was to keep a lid on that power. The poor kid went from Germany to Singapore in one day, and it wasn't easy to get him home...

"Filthy. Then, what's your superpower?" The long-haired boy turned to Mika, whose face fell as she struggled to answer.

She didn't have one, and she looked to her kind-hearted teacher for guidance because all the others had their powers, but hers hadn't materialised yet. As the weeks passed, she grew increasingly worried, thinking there had to be a mistake, even though (y/n) assured her the Omega Weapon's energy touched her. She advised her to wait and see, but that was easier said than done when your best friends could control lightning and bend physics to their will.

"She doesn't have one!" Chapa and Miles exclaimed in unison, not in a mean way, but because they were fed up with telling the dimwitted boy.

"For some reason, my power hasn't shown up--yet!" Mika clarified, making Bose gasp dramatically and clamp his hands over his face. It wasn't that big of a deal, and when she looked her way, (y/n) gave the girl a reassuring smile - she had something in her; she just knew it.

"If we could just focus your attention on what--" Schwoz tried to say, hoping he could finish his lying lesson, but they were too far gone now. Once you lost Bose's attention, that was it - you didn't get it back.

"Are you scared you'll never get one?"

"Absolutely not!" Mika scoffed, rolled her eyes, and folded her arms, playing off the kid's question like it didn't bother her. Not even a little bit. She didn't care - who wants a superpower anyway? Ew.

"See guys? That's bad lying," Miles joked, poking fun at his twin because he knew how obsessive she could be, and not discovering her power was really getting to her. He just knew it--saw how touchy she was at home and how she did everything to try and find it.

"Actually, dear brother, I'm not scared. (y/n) says she thinks my power needs the right conditions to be activated. And when it does, I'll kick your butt!" his sister replied snappily, giving the boy a deathly stare for trying to knock her confidence. (y/n) was smart and Swellview's greatest superheroine--if anyone knew their science-hero stuff, it was her.

"Whoa, you guys are related?!" Bose gasped, glancing between the twins with shocked eyes, making everyone facepalm again. It was like he'd been living under a rock, yet everyone knew he hadn't. He was just slow...and very, very unobservant.

"I know I have a superpower! I'm sure it will show up eventu--" Mika tried to tell them, placing all her confidence in Miss Danger's judgement, but Schwoz had had enough.

He was tired of the chitchat, feeling like his authority was being undermined, and the worst thing? His wingwoman was joining in, making the handyman elbow her ribs and frown as he raised an air horn in the air and squeezed the button. It made a noise that, remarkably, sounded like someone shouting HEY!, silencing the chattering kids and almost deafening the woman beside him.

"Thanks, Schwoz. I didn't like this ear that much anyway..." (y/n) winced, laying her palm over her poor ear as it rang and ached. Chapa frowned at the move, her scowl deepening until her face was a red, angry crumple because that was her friend - the one person who didn't judge or push her away in fear.

"Never Hey!-horn a woman!" She barked, roughly pushing her seat back and standing up, scarlet sparks flying from her fingertips as her temper set her superpower off.

"Chapa, relax... (y/n) can handle herself," Mika said soothingly. She did not want another incident of someone's butt getting fried because the girl got overwrought, but her advice made it worse.

Chapa's glowing red eyes snapped to hers, full of rage and anguish as the world tried to dampen her spirit.

"Never tell me to relax! We've been here three weeks! We should be learning how to be superheroes, but instead, we're practising lies and getting the Hey!-horn!" She yelled, growing angrier and angrier until not even (y/n) could keep her calm.

She had a point; school had started just under a month ago, and they were still yet to go out on a mission. But, in their defence, Ray and (y/n) knew they weren't ready, preferring to keep them out of sight and danger until they could at least get their powers under control - or hell, even discover them.

"Hey, I'm already great at lying!" Bose countered, smirking at his friends with some unknown smugness.

"Watch!... I am so wearing pants right now."

"Bose, are you not wearing pants right now?" Miles asked in a disbelieving voice, trying to catch a glance of his friend under the table. Although, on second thoughts, that didn't sound like a good idea, given how serious he looked.

"Not important. But what is important is that I'm takin' Schwoz's Hey!-horn!" The boy giggled, brushing off Miles' question, even though it was genuine.

(y/n) frowned at his words, her amused expression falling when the kid reached out his tensed hand and pressed two fingers to his temple. With extreme concentration, he used his telekinesis to lift the air horn out of Schwoz's hand, far above where the genius could reach. It was a hilarious prank for them, sending the children into laughter when Schwoz tried to grab it, just to come down empty-handed.

"I'm not going to jump for it..." he said meekly, shoving his hands deep in his pockets to dissuade temptation, even as (y/n) stretched to get the can. Bose lifted it higher, meaning the can brushed her fingertips before soaring above her head, and if she couldn't reach it, Schwoz had no chance.

"I know you want me to jump for it, but I'm a man of science, and I'm not going to--"

"Just jump, Schwoz. We all know you want to..." (y/n) groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as the kids laughed, bating the genius to jump. Temptation won out, and he began leaping, stretching, and grunting, trying in vain to catch the horn, only for it to float higher. Someone had been practising with his superpower...

"Ya' hate to see it..." Miles chuckled, finding that he and his friends loved to mess around with the tiny man, much to (y/n) 's chagrin. This was what they did when they were bored, and ever since Bose mastered moving small, light objects, they'd revelled in it, ignoring any and all discipline.

"Give me back my Hey!-horn!" Schwoz snapped, stamping his feet and squirming on the spot like an infuriated child, but Bose didn't listen. He was too in love with his newfound powers.

"Sure. Soon as you let us fight crime," Chapa proposed with an evil smirk, making (y/n) sigh and scrub her face with her open palm. It was getting harder and harder to lie to the kids, and she felt bad that they took their wrath on the poor guy, knowing that he wouldn't do anything, unlike her and Ray.

"It's not up to me! It's up to Captain Man and Miss Danger!" Schwoz argued, thinking their treatment was unfair too, and all eyes fell on (y/n).

She didn't break, knowing that children could smell fear, and if she let them walk all over her, all hell would break loose. She didn't let her old babies get away with shit, so her new ones definitely couldn't, even though she knew they wanted more than namby-pamby lectures.

"(y/n), let us go out and fight crime! Come on, you remember what it was like to be a new sidekick, right?" Chapa pleaded, even as far as to smile slightly before her friends joined in, all clamouring for the woman to help them get out and kick some ass. But she just shook her head and gave them a sympathetic smile, knowing that whilst she had the authority to assign missions, she didn't want to.

"Sorry, but I'd need to discuss that sort of thing with Captain Man, and he's not here, so..." she shrugged, believing avoidance was her best tactic, and technically, it wasn't a lie.

She didn't know where her doofus was, although she'd bet he was probably growing needy after being separated from her all morning--and she missed him. It had been too long without his kisses...

"Well, where is he?" Mika asked expectantly, assuming Miss Danger would know where her husband was, given that they'd been practically joined at the hip since they'd come off their honeymoon. It was disgustingly cute despite the kids' groans and vomiting noises.

"Yeah, Captain Man never spends this much time away from Mis--" Miles' pondering was interrupted as the legendary hero dropped from the ceiling, landing in an epic pose with his knee touching the floor and his hands clenched.

The man loved a dramatic entrance, especially in his new uniform - a significant improvement on his old Captain Man suit. He looked bulkier and broader and loved encouraging his wife to feel up his muscles as she studied the small changes - a few extra grey and yellow patterns here and there. Bose's concentration snapped, sending the air horn clattering to the floor as everyone marvelled at the hero's intimidating yet impressive aura.

"EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY!" He immediately shouted, dashing around the room like a madman as he yelled at the kids, inspiring panic in them at his frantic tone. He wanted them to get to work, needing their snappy, organised, and coordinated response because panic caused chaos in an emergency. But, of course, their excitement got the better of them.

"Yes!"

"Let's go!"

"THIS IS NOT A DRILL! Get up to the Man's Nest! Get your uniforms on! GO, GO, GO!" He shouted, slapping his hands on Bose's desk as he sat there, wide-eyed and frozen, even as his friends scrambled to get ready. The shouting wasn't helping, the pressure making him sweat and his mind blank as Ray turned to the Macklin twins.

"It's crimefightin' time! For real!" (y/n) stood back with Schwoz, watching the chaotic scene unfold with a mildly amused face. It wasn't good that they panicked so severely, but at least she saw her doofus standing there, looking all handsome, as his gaze flickered from the floundering kids to her. God, that uniform...it was a good change.

"I finally get to hurt someone!" Chapa shrieked, a red current sparking through her fingers as she thought about electrocuting criminals - perfect for letting off steam. Her unbridled rage brought her joy, but the room turned to pure bedlam as she laughed manically.

Ray and (y/n) locked eyes, sharing a baffled expression as Bose lost all control and flipped his desk, sending pencils rolling across the floor. He also pushed his chair across the room, shouting in anguish as the couple sighed in despair. This was why they didn't want them to go on missions yet.

"Are you wearing a shirt for pants?!" Mika asked with a frown, staring at the boy's legs as he blindly ran around with a blue hoodie pulled up to his butt. Well, he wasn't lying earlier...

"YES!" He cried before running away, not knowing what to do. Even Miles had lost his chill, wrestling with (y/n) for her PearPad for some unknown reason as Bose shook Ray by the shoulders. Honestly, they'd designed the classroom to make it easier to get upstairs, but they were turning it into a farce.

"I do not know what to do! I have literally forgotten all of my training!"

"Get up to the Man's Nest! This is not a drill!" Ray barked again, shoving Bose off his chest to go and grab a pan and wooden spoon, banging it for extra effect. He didn't know why the message wasn't getting through to them, with only Mika keeping calm as she jumped into her chair.

"Hurry up, you guys!" She called to her fellow students, knowing they had to get upstairs to where their gum was stored. She slapped her hand on the armrest's button, zooming through the ceiling tubes to put on her uniform. Meanwhile, the others remained in chaos, mindlessly wandering the room.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Chapa growled, even though the girl was long gone. Still, it was enough to make her spark - lousy news for Miles and Bose as they charged into her from both sides, ending in a scarlet explosion that sent them to the floor when the electricity jumped to their bodies.

"Oh, you hate to see it..." Schwoz retorted, silently glad to see the boys groaning in pain since they'd made fun of him and stole his Hey!-horn earlier.

As (y/n) gave him a scolding stare, Mika dropped down from the ceiling, wearing her silver and black super-suit and mask. Finally, someone was ready to go, but her brother and friends had fallen behind, still panicking as she began to bark orders.

"Get to the Man's Nest! Hit the chairs--let's go upstairs! Up to The Nest, then make the arrest! Everyone, get seated so bad guys can get yeeted!"

"I'll teleport there," Miles bragged as he slowly rose from the floor, holding his aching stomach after taking Chapa's lightning. At this point, Ray had dashed over to his sweet girl and handyman, welcoming her into his arms as she smiled warmly - her love brightened his mood, lessening the irritation from the disorder.

"Miles, are you sure that's a good idea? You can't control--" (y/n) tried to stop the boy, recalling the last time he tried to use his power and how difficult it was to get him back. However, she was too late, slumping into Ray's embrace again as the boy disappeared to God knows where in a flash of golden light.

"Sweet cheese..." the heroine sighed, resting her cheek against her husband's pec as his arms curled around her tighter, understanding her frustration. As he soothingly stroked her back, Chapa and Bose made it into their chairs, pushing the buttons and disappearing into the hideout, leaving Mika with the adults.

Well, that was an ordeal.

"This is not a drill!" Ray stomped over and growled at the girl as she retook her seat - a pretty poor move since she was already in her uniform and ready to go on his mission.

"I was ready first!" She shouted back before zooming upstairs, where the chaos undoubtedly continued in the couple's home. They knew they were inexperienced, but dear God, neither expected it to go that badly, wondering where they went wrong with such a simple routine.

"Hey, doofus..." Still, the silence was golden, allowing (y/n) to sidle up to her lover as he sighed, utterly exhausted after the brief exercise.

But he relaxed when she slipped her hands up his chest, pulling him into a much-needed kiss after a couple of hours apart - it was their way of reuniting. He hummed at her honey-like taste, squeezing her hips as she ran her fingers through the cropped hair at the nape of his neck, loving how sexy Captain Man looked in his new suit.

"Missed you, sweet girl..." Ray whispered, pecking his beautiful wife's lips again as she stroked his smooth cheeks. Two hours apart was too long and had been ever since their honeymoon spoiled them with three weeks alone in paradise.

Schwoz rolled his eyes, knowing they'd been worse since they returned home, but he couldn't blame them for being utterly in love - he was the one who married them.

"It's just a drill, isn't it?" (y/n) questioned knowingly, aware that her husband didn't want the kids in danger yet. Still, his sneaky plan made her smile, and when she did, he did, too, grinning from ear to ear as he confessed.

"Yeah..." he chuckled breathlessly, finding a smidge of fun in making the team panic, but it was also very telling. They weren't even close to being ready for bad guys yet, something the heroine reiterated as she followed her doofus into the back room. As much as she wanted to stand in his arms all day, they had younglings to teach, especially if they ran rampant in the Nest.

It's where they'd built a new tube pad - a huge one, enough to comfortably send a group of people around the Man's Nest at once. Plus, it gave them a perfect little hidey-hole to kiss and explore without young eyes around to see something scarring, often making Schwoz take the stairs.

"Doofus, that was a disaster..." (y/n) groaned, pulling the gumballs from her back pocket as she stepped into the tube with her lover, standing unnecessarily close after so many years in the old, narrow ones.

She popped one into her mouth as Ray sighed, his hands on her hips again as they waited for the suction to send them upwards. He didn't need his pretty girl to tell him that; he knew that the kids weren't ready, but as she'd found, it was getting harder and harder to keep them in SWAG when they were so desperate to see some action.

"I know, darlin'. And they're still not ready..." he sighed, knowing Chapa and Bose were probably still in their civilian clothes with Mika shouting at them and Miles in some far-off land. His wife offered him a tired but sweet smile as she chewed and blew a bubble, her new uniform materialising on her body in a burst of bright colours.

In a split-second, before they went upstairs, Ray took a moment to admire her figure, raking his eyes over the new design and how it complimented her so well. She was officially his new senior sidekick and, as such, deserved a new look, complete with an updated two-colour skirt, bodice, and other minor details to compliment his suit. And fuck - she looked hot.

"Pick your tongue up, doof." A soft voice broke him out of his daydream, and his gaze snapped up to her amused eyes as they crinkled with laughter. Caught red-handed.

"Can't blame a guy for admiring his wife, sweet girl, especially when she's so freakin' hot--" he grinned cheekily, and (y/n) didn't get a chance to reply when his arms tightened around her body as they blasted off.

Upstairs, in the Man's Nest, the couple were joined by Schwoz and found another chaotic scene as they'd predicted. Chapa and Bose were on their knees, nails scraping against the floor to try and scoop up millions of gumballs they'd accidentally dropped, even though they'd mixed together. Miles was with his sister, looking particularly grumpy after teleporting into a bird's nest, which left doo-doo and feathers stuck to his clothes and hair.

"Oh, dear God..." (y/n) groaned, wondering if there was any point in putting on her uniform when they were all in such disarray. She and her doofus shared an irked look with Schwoz as they descended the stairs, knowing they might as well get comfy.

At least the woman could admire her new home; even after a few weeks of living there, she still wasn't used to it.

There were a few familiar comforts like the tube and crescent-shaped couch in the centre of the spacious marble floor. Everything glowed and buzzed like in the Man Cave, and the sounds of computers whirring and alarms beeping soothed her longing for the old days, making up for the lack of an auto-snacker and sprocket.

New features included the chair station where the kids kept their gum and personal belongings, a smaller computer for general hero work, a front that anyone could walk through, and a side door that led to the many rooms in the hideout's bowels. She knew the route to her bedroom and the bathroom, but that was it - the place was a maze of corridors and hidden spaces.

But the best thing had to be the view. She always complained about living underground, going days without breaching the surface because her work kept her busy - who needed sunlight?

Ray heard her grumbles and solved them--anything to keep his wife happy--so he purchased the highest home in Swellview - on top of Mount Swellview. She could see the entire city: trees, sky and sun, and it was a welcome change.

"Miles found more gum!" Bose's shout broke her from the daydream, her gaze landing on the boys as the brunet charged at his friend to wrench the small tin from his hand. They'd explained that everyone's gum was unique, coded to each hero's uniform, but he didn't care - Bose saw what he needed and scrambled.

"What? No! That's my gum!" Miles screeched, wrestling to keep hold of his gumballs, going as far as to fall to the floor, not that it did him any good.

The container hit the tiles, sending another million balls across the floor - yellow mixing with red and blue until the three out-of-uniform kids couldn't tell the difference.

As they argued about whose fault it was, Ray, (y/n), and Schwoz sat on the couch, appreciating its familiar half-moon shape. They quickly got comfy, ignoring the chaos around them as they waited for the tweens to get organised eventually.

The hero curled an arm around his sweet girl, pulling her into his side as she smiled, her head resting on his shoulder. He even had a tub of nuts to nibble on, fully prepared to relax.

"When'd you build this place?" The man asked his handyman, fighting a smug smirk as his wife pecked his cheek--just because she enjoyed the feel of his skin on her lips.

"Last year," Schwoz replied, having had the spare hideout under wraps until needed. He'd built everything the Man Cave lacked in the new building, taking extra care to soundproof some particular rooms and claim his bedroom far away from them.

As they chatted, Bose brushed past the back of the couch, reaching over to pinch one of Captain Man's nuts as Mika and Chapa chased after him. Still not ready.

"I was going to give it to you both for your anniversary!"

"Aw, Schwozie. That's so sweet!" (y/n) cooed, her heart melting at the genius' generosity and how he gave it to them early, given that they found themselves unexpectedly married and homeless. She beamed at her husband, leaning up to peck his lips out of pure joy, almost forgetting the screaming children running around her.

Ten minutes later, and they'd made some progress - Bose was finally dressed. However, as always with the boy, they'd gone one step forward and two steps back, mostly because he was wearing Mika's silver suit. He thought he looked great, ignorant of the brawl between Chapa and Miles as he admired the slim-fit style.

"How did my gum get mixed in with yours?!" The dark-haired girl asked as the couple on the couch face-palmed.

"No idea, but it's my costume now! I have the power to do nothing!" Bose exclaimed with his hands on his hips, infuriating Mika. She didn't appreciate the ridicule, chasing after the boy when he fled her fury.

Still not ready.

"Hey, can everybody see this place?" Ray asked another fifteen minutes later as he, his beloved wife, and Schwoz stood before the vast window to admire the mountain view.

After waiting at least half an hour for the children, they'd stood up to stretch their legs, and that's when it hit him - maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have his headquarters plastered on top of a mountain where anyone could see it. That's why they lived underground before.

"Yes..." Schwoz nodded, wondering where he was going with this. He was good, but he couldn't make an entire building invisible. That was far too complicated.

"Well, what happens if bad guys come?"

"We'll defeat them, doofus. I mean, come on! You're Captain Man!" (y/n) giggled, squeezing his thick bicep for added effect because she knew that her heroic husband could and would take on any asshole who tried to invade their home. She'd help him, of course, but she only inflated his ego, feeling up his arm as he blushed.

"Aw... You're so sweet, sweet girl..." Ray cooed as she'd done earlier, a burning sense of masculine pride filling him at the knowledge that his sweet girl thought he was big, brave, and strong.

His fingers pinched her chin as he gave her her reward - a gentle kiss for being so perfect, meaning they didn't see the bouncing children around them. Still not ready.

Another twenty minutes passed, and the kids finally lined up in front of their tube chairs. Mika waited for her friends to blow their bubbles, eventually corralling them into chewing the correct gum whilst Captain Man and his wife sprawled on the couch. She didn't even want to know where that man had put his hands...

They were in uniform, ready and willing to kick some criminal butt. At last, Chapa was in red, Bose in blue, Miles in yellow, and Mika still in silver, completing the quartet of young sidekicks as they grinned and congratulated themselves. Obviously, they didn't see the unimpressed adults to their right...

"This was just a drill..." Ray told them slowly in a tired voice, fully expecting their shouts and complaints after making them panic. They snarled and glared, shouting about how he wasn't cool, a jerk, how he had some nerve, yadda-yadda-yadda. He didn't care, glancing at his sweet girl's PearPhone as she checked the time.

"And it took you...an hour and a half!" He told them sharply, pointing at her phone with a mildly disappointed face. Even (y/n) couldn't hide her dissatisfaction, having witnessed some utterly brutish and animalistic behaviour from the kids, and whilst she was fond of them, she wouldn't shy away from a much-needed telling-off.

"Okay, who burned the couch?! Huh? Fess up! Don't think I won't find out!" She threatened, angrily pointing to her beloved couch table - the one thing that genuinely reminded her of their old home. Well, not now; it was full of goddamn smouldering holes after someone's temper got the better of her.

"...Bose did it," Chapa lied, hiding her sparkling hands behind her back as the vacant boy stood silently. Of course, (y/n) wasn't an idiot, giving her a grave, deathly stare as she folded her arms, clearly seeing the actual culprit, despite being rather fond of the misunderstood girl.

Maybe she was getting old and broody, but honestly, it wasn't the fact that she'd ruined that couch that bothered her so much but the lies. The seats could be replaced or repaired, but she hated liars, making her shake her head disappointedly at the bashful girl, feeling more and more like a parent every day.

Good God...she was normal four kids ago, and now she was going grey.

~A while later~

It was fair to say that Ray's exercise was a complete flop. After all that effort, he stood the team down, ignoring the chorus of groans as the kids changed out of their uniforms again.

They knew he wouldn't let them go out, having grown used to getting their hopes up just to be disallowed from seeking out danger. It sucked, but they had no choice but to follow the boss' orders, gathering on the singed couch on Ray's command whilst he and (y/n) changed back into their regular clothes too.

The couple were clearly disappointed, sighing and shaking their heads as they prepared to review the drill. Although they hid it particularly well, fawning over each other with kisses, cuddles, and cooing over their matching gold rings, something they still weren't used to seeing.

The kids could puke, but they held in any ridicule since they were amid a telling-off. And Ray wouldn't let them off lightly.

"Aaaaaand...bam!" Ray laughed as he stood before the group, highly amused by the video he kept playing of Miles and Bose bumping into Chapa, causing her electricity to explode. He found it hilarious, chuckling despite their sad faces, rubbing up against his precious girl as she snacked on his cheese puffs.

"Again, 'cause it's funny...Bam!" he smiled, replaying the moment of the explosion on the giant holographic screen before laughing heartily - again and again and again.

"All right, last time, I swear--bam! Just kidding! I lied--bam!"

"I'm sick of watching this film!" Chapa growled, standing on the couch she'd burnt with her teeth bared and fingers zapping, threatening to cause more damage. She wasn't one to be mocked, especially by some hot-shot guy who thought he was better just because he was some superhero...okay, maybe he was a bit better.

"Captain, can we please go out and fight real crime?" Mika asked politely, trying to use her brightest smile and fluttering eyelashes to appeal to the man's heart. Given the glinting band on his left hand and the soft glances he kept shooting the pretty lady beside him, he had to have one.

"I know we look bad in here, but out in the real world, we'd be great! I just know it! Please, (y/n/n)? Pretty please?"

"Uh, well..." (y/n) gulped, hating how she had to lie to her face, but it had to be done. They were painfully unprepared for how severe and terrifying evil criminals could be, so she avoided their hopeful eyes, staring at her doofus instead.

Goddamn, he looked so good in that tight t-shirt, almost making her drool as one muscular arm wrapped around her shoulders, reminding her of their strength.

"--Well, we'd love to let you guys come along on a crime run, but the truth is...there's a crime drought," Ray said in her stead, quickly smoothing things over with a little white lie. It wasn't a very good one, and the kids didn't look very convinced, but he went with it.

"There is no such thing as a crime drought," Miles argued, looking at the lovey-dovey couple sceptically as the hero fed his wife a cheese puff, giggling when his cheese-dust-covered fingertip caught her lip.

"Is too!" (y/n) countered with her mouth full, playing along with her lover's lie for safety reasons. She didn't like it, but at least they'd be safe; what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

"Ooh, she's got you there," Bose murmured to his friend, making Miles sigh. He wouldn't even try to reason with the dimwit.

"Look. This town's had some tasty crime waves in the past, but Miss Danger, Kid Danger, and I shredded the gnar and put all the criminals back in prison..." Ray told them, changing the humiliating video to an image of Henry in his old uniform.

He and (y/n) smiled sadly, their hearts clenching at the sight of their old friend and his bright smile. Dystopia had never felt so far away...

"My baby..."

"Miss ya, kid," they sniffed, blinking back tears as they huddled together, trying to remember the happier times and that the boy was now a young man, doing his own thing. There was no time to dwell on it; having made their peace with his decision, they quickly moved on, leaning on each other for support like always.

"Anyray," the man cleared his throat, earning a quick glance from his sweet girl because she hated when he did that silly name thing.

"We're in a crime drought, so...nobody's doing nothing."

"Ray! (y/n)!" A loud shout came behind them, making the couple jump as the children frowned. They never got to do anything fun. Upon turning around, they realised that Schwoz, the annoying weirdo he was, was the one who'd scared the heebie-jeebies out of them after connecting to the screen via video chat, making (y/n) jump into her husband's chest for safety.

"Sweet cheese, Schwoz!" She whimpered, clutching at her pounding heart, although Ray wasn't complaining. He didn't like to see her spooked, but damn, he didn't mind her rubbing up against him like that...

"I've been texting you both for ten minutes! Face your phones!" The genius instructed them, and when they pulled the cells from their pockets, the spouses realised he was right. (y/n) flicked through an onslaught of furious texts, all from Science Coconut 🥥 🧪, and she realised that Captain Man and Miss Danger were needed.

"Oopsie-Raysie..." her doofus did the same, hurriedly reading the message about some half-assed emergency that didn't sound too bad, but heroic assistance had been requested. He also had one from Sweet Girl ❤️💍 , telling him to have a good day before classes started. Aw...

"I miss one text on a weekend, and you threaten to fire me, but I guess it's okay for you and your wife to--"

"We gotta go!" Ray announced, ignoring the incessant tirade from the genius on the screen as his pretty girl tucked her phone away and tugged on his huge bicep, urging him to get moving. But they wouldn't get away that easily; as soon as he turned to follow his wife like a puppy, the kids were on their toes, interrogating with suspicious squints.

"Where are you going?" Mika asked, standing dangerously close to her teachers as Ray bumped against his lover, abs pushing against her back whilst the girl tried to catch a glimpse of his texts.

"Is it an emergency? Can we come?!" Chapa gasped, her eyes sparkling at the thought of tagging along. She couldn't wait for their first mission, but one look at the speechless heroes and she had a sinking feeling.

It was undeniably suspicious how Ray peeked over his shoulder, looking at Schwoz for support as he brainstormed a suitable lie, but he wasn't very convincing. (y/n) smiled nervously, feeling her tummy tingling when she heard the genius sigh because he knew what a tangled web they were weaving.

"Nah, it's not an emergency at all. Right, sweet girl?"

"Nope--no emergencies here. Not even a predicament or other bothersome problem..." she rambled, trying to remain as her doofus squeezed her shoulder, itching to get out from under their scrutinising stares.

"Then, where are you going?" Miles asked, noticing how they squirmed. They weren't very subtle for people who'd survived with their secrets for so long.

"Uh...our friend is on fire, and we--"

"--Not that one, Raymond--" (y/n) choked out, hiding her words in a swiftly executed cough as her doofus tried to use Schwoz's teachable lie. She saw their frowns, nerves flaring as their students grew more distrustful, knowing something was up.

"No? Okay--uh..." the hero recovered, smiling through his little fuck-up and casually pulling his wife closer, even as Mika judged him - very closely.

"Oh... We gotta take my aunt to the cleaners!"

"Why?" The girl asked, stepping closer to the nervous couple to try and make them spill, but luckily, Schwoz had their backs, thinking on the spot when they floundered.

"Because...she's very large."

"Yes!--I mean, yeah, yeah, huge. Very big lady--think human whale. Loves cheese. Very smelly. We need to clean her in a car wash, so...yeah," (y/n) nodded as Ray slowly guided her toward the metal door, knowing they could escape to their bedroom, get ready, and leave from there. The men agreed with her, nodding slightly too vigorously to be believable, but they rolled with it, even as the kids scoffed.

"What?"

"Yep! My incredibly hot wife is correct. Car wash. Only way my aunt can get a real deep cleaning--and she is due!" Ray chuckled as he backed into the doorway, verging on bolting down the corridor to safety. It had been four entire minutes since he kissed his sweet girl, and she looked so pretty...

"Can we come? We'll call it a practice mission," Mika suggested, thinking that cleaning an immensely fat lady didn't sound too terrifying or perilous, even though the man was clearly spouting BS.

"Oh, well, we'd love to let you come with us, but she's very shy--really, very, very shy! And the whole process is honestly disgusting, so--byeeeee!" The heroine laughed anxiously, crouching lower and lower with her doofus as the door slowly rolled down.

She couldn't stop word-vomiting until the children disappeared from view. Finally, the couple could breathe a sigh of relief. That had to be the worst lie in history, and she had no idea how they'd kept it rolling, draining her energy before they'd even stepped out of the door.

"God, doofus...We're such bad people--lying to children! This is what we're reduced to!" She exclaimed, rubbing her eyes as Ray softly kissed her forehead before tugging her down the hallway. They had to move quickly, but he wanted her safe and happy first - deeming his beloved wife more important than anything or anyone.

"It's lies or watching them get pulverised. They're not ready..." the man sighed, equally frustrated because he had four mini sidekicks ready. Still, they were dangerous to themselves and others with their touch-and-go powers, so he couldn't introduce the world to Danger Force.

"I know...I just...don't like the lies, Raymond."

"Let's just get through this mission, precious girl. We'll work it out when we get back..." he soothed her, knowing his wife was too sweet to lie all day and night.

She could slip out the odd fib to hide her identity, but this was too much. The bigger the lie became, the deeper the hole they dug, and she had no idea how they would get out.

But he was right, and she focused on the task ahead - something about a goat? Only in Swellview...

~Swellview Zoo ~

Some people had bizarre habits, which (y/n) found out once she and Captain Man arrived on-scene at their latest emergency.

They immediately spotted the problem: two low lives trying to steal a goat. She wasn't entirely sure what they would do with the poor thing. Still, the couple didn't wait to find out, swiftly apprehending the scumbags before they could commit some heinous goat-related crime.

After checking that the coast was clear, they quickly knocked them down and tied them up, thankful for the cover of night that hid their daring rescue. The animal was fine, munching away on a bush and other foliage, but that's not what the heroes were worried about.

Ray kept looking over his shoulder, not expecting a horde of knife-wielding maniacs but a stampede of angry children. Namely, Danger Force, who he swore would flip their shit if they knew they were being two-timed.

They needed to dispose of the goat-nappers and be on their way, hopefully before anyone saw them. One picture of Captain Man and Miss Danger fighting crime online and the secret would be out - that the city still needed heroes, just ones that weren't liabilities.

"Oh, quit whining. It's not that tight..." (y/n) scoffed at the sour-looking men as she tautened the neon chord she and her doofus lashed them back to back. They kept whinging and complaining about how they couldn't breathe, but she didn't care for goat abductors and ignored their grumbles.

"Hey, you single, pretty lady?" The dark-haired one in a flat cap asked, suggestively waggling his eyebrows at the heroine, who only wanted to do her job. She noticed how his eyes trailed down her slim-fitting bodice, lingering on her more...feminine features, and it was enough to make Ray curl his fists and grit his teeth.

"No, she's not," he hissed, pulling the strap tighter, and he didn't care if it dug into their flabby stomachs. Everyone knew that Miss Danger was taken, rumours swirling in the gossip columns that she'd finally tied the knot with Captain Man, so they didn't stand a chance against her beloved doofus. He knew they were just trying to get under his skin - it was working - but he couldn't help but snarl. He hated how they leered at his sweet girl.

"Why'd you guys steal a goat, anyway?" He asked gruffly, trying to distract their attention from the beauty beside him.

"This isn't just any old goat," said the ginger, greasy guy behind the flirtier, his sneer running down the hero's back like water. He could snarl all he wanted - the jig was up, and he was going to jail.

"This goat can say, butt!"

"It's worth millions!" His sweaty, chubby friend added, although the couple couldn't quite believe it. They looked dumb, but really? A talking animal?

"Goats can't say butt."

"Yeah, I smell bullshit, and it's not the goat," Ray and (y/n) argued scornfully, thinking they were stupid, more run-of-the-mill criminals with only one brain cell between them. However, as the hero stuck his nose up in the air and scoffed, something weird happened...

"Butt!" The goat bleated gruffly, and strangely, it sounded like it was talking. (y/n) assumed it was just a fluke--a coincidence--that the animal vaguely baaed like a person. However, she supposed it was a neat trick, perhaps not worth millions, but still kind of cool. And no one was more impressed than Ray, who loved cons like talking animals and making his precious wife facepalm when his scepticism fell flat.

"Okay, that thing should be president!" He exclaimed, but their captives were tired of all the chitchat. They admitted it; they'd tried to steal the goat - just punish them.

"Just take us to jail, okay?!" The redhead requested sharply, thinking a punishment was inevitable, but Captain Man had a predicament. Booking people in jail left a record, and he couldn't let anyone know that he and his sweet girl had been out fighting crime.

"No can do. Gonna have to zap you unconscious and drag your sad, limp bodies into the woods..." Ray sighed, especially when his wife shot him an alarmed look, mainly because that sounded slightly more extreme than she had planned. All this just to not get caught...

"Why? We're not putting up a fight!"

"Eh...been lying to some kids. Told 'em there was a crime drought. If they find out the truth, they're gonna want to come with us to fight crime, and it's gonna be a whole thing--" he shrugged, relaxing against the stone wall and wrapping an arm around his sweet girl.

She wasn't too sure why he was telling the whole story to their enemies, but she rolled with it. He was nice to lean against - robust and muscular body supporting her frame as she looped her arms around his lithe waist. It showed the scummy men she loved him, making Ray smirk victoriously when he pecked her forehead, and they lowered their gazes.

It was all going swimmingly, and the duo thought they had everything under control...until someone crept up behind them, swearing that they'd seen the heroes skulking outside the zoo at midnight like some common delinquents.

"Captain Man? Miss Danger?" A man asked confusedly, and the confident smiles fell from the couple's faces. They jumped out of each other's arms and away from the wall, wondering how someone could've snuck up on them. They knew that voice...and it didn't bode well.

Like something out of their worst nightmares, the entire KLVY news crew stood before them in a flash. From the sound recordists to the cameraman to Trent Overrunder and Mary Gaperman, everyone gathered around to see what the superheroes were doing at such a late hour. Before they knew what was happening, it was an informal, impromptu interview, and they didn't know what to say or how to explain their actions.

"What are you doing?" Trent asked, smirking slightly at the couple as they stood there like a pair of lemons, pale and perplexed with babbling mouths that made no sounds. (y/n) could see it now...heroes caught lying to children. Scandal. Fire. Explosions. Death.

"What...what are you doing, Trent? Hmmm?" She fired back, placing her hands on her hips to try and be obstreperous and difficult, avoiding the question at all costs.

"It's news team trivia night!" Mary replied brightly, giving them her usual beaming yet mindless smile as she poked out from behind her wittier colleague. (y/n) liked Mary, thinking she meant well and was very sweet, much nicer than Trent and his snarky comments, even if she was a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

"We meet other news teams at a pub and play trivia games against each other," Brian "The Fender" Bender explained in a newsy voice, even though it was self-explanatory. He winked subtly at Miss Danger, having always had a thing for the pretty heroine, yet that moronic partner of hers always stood in his way.

"I get to colour on the back of my menu!" Mary exclaimed happily with a cheesy grin as (y/n) ignored Brian's advances, thinking he was too polished and slick for her liking. She'd always preferred doofuses...

"Hey, is that the goat that says, butt?!" The reporter suddenly asked, tearing his gaze away from the eye candy to gawp at the mystical animal. Being a highly skilled journalist, he knew a scoop when he saw one, making his teammates gasp and stare.

"No, no, no, no, no--" Ray tried to say, furiously shaking his head with his sweet girl, but it was in vain. The goat had uncanny timing, seemingly saying its infamous word on cue and right when they wanted it to shut its poxy mouth.

"Buuuutt!"

"Holy goats, it is! Daner, give me a two-shot! Keep it loose--Hirsch can always blow it up in post!" Trent gasped and swiftly jumped into action, taking his place beside Ray while Brian sidled up to Miss Danger. Like a well-oiled machine, the news team snapped to it, taking their positions in a routine they knew like the back of their hands, ready to show the world what their beloved heroes had rescued.

As the camera focused, Ray and (y/n) looked at each other with panicked expressions, knowing that once they started rolling, the whole world, including the kids in the Man's Nest, would know what they'd been doing. And then, they'd never hear the end of it, and the large man hated how that schmuck cuddled up to his wife.

"We're going live, people!"

"Uh, Captain Man, we need to do something!" (y/n) hissed worriedly, squeezing her doofus' bicep whilst trying to lean away from The Fender and his potent aftershave. The guy smelt like one of those trees that hung from a rear-view mirror but a million times stronger.

What else was Ray meant to do? He had a split-second to think and decided he had no choice but to whip out his laser remote and zap the reporters. They fell like dominoes when the green beam blasted them. He took extreme pleasure in watching Brian hitting the ground after Trent, swiftly followed by the cameraman, killing the live feed before anything could be broadcast across the city. However, the hero didn't stop there.

She didn't necessarily agree with his methods, but (y/n) knew they were too deep now, so she followed her husband's lead, pulling out her remote to start zapping. Spinning on her heel, she took out the witnesses, lasering the goat thieves into unconsciousness whilst Ray d with the others - perhaps getting a little trigger-happy.

"My turn!" Mary, poor vacant Mary, squealed excitedly once he'd shot the mic girl and another cameraman. It wasn't the sort of thing anyone else would look forward to, and Ray almost felt sorry for her when the green plasma hit her in the chest. Almost.

"We are so going to hell..." (y/n) panted once it was all over, feeling like someone from a horror movie as she stood above all the sleeping bodies. They looked peaceful, and she knew that they weren't actually dead or injured, but still. It felt creepy, and she couldn't believe they were going to such lengths to keep a lie alive.

"It's fine, sweet girl..." Ray soothed her, equally winded after zapping so many people, but he didn't think it was so bad.

"We'll take these guys to the woods or whatever. They'll wake up after we're long gone, and no one will remember we were here. Look around, darlin'! I think we got away with that one."

Famous last words.

"Apúrense, por fin vamos a ganar a KLVY..."

"Doofus, someone's coming!" (y/n) whispered in horror as she heard the dulcet tones of a Spanish-speaking man approaching.

They couldn't catch a break, watching in horror as another news team rounded the corner, only this time, it was the people for the Latin channel. After having their asses kicked by KLVY, they were doing the walk of shame home as losers but still tried to think of ideas to win next time. Laughing amongst themselves, the reporters and crew didn't notice the frozen heroes shaking like leaves, surrounded by seemingly corpses, until it was too late to run.

"Captain Man? Miss Danger?" Hector Managua frowned, tilting his head in confusion as he took in the bizarre sight they made, looking like goddamn serial killers. He was like the Hispanic Trent Overrunder, clutching a microphone as his coworkers stared at their trivia rivals, wondering what the hell had happened.

"¡Qué onda!" Ray squeaked awkwardly, not knowing what to say other than warmly greeting them. He tried to look innocent, rubbing elbows with his sweet girl since no one would ever suspect her of any wrongdoing, not when she gave them a bright, if watery, smile like that.

"Hey, ¿ese es el chivo que dice, butt?!" Hector asked in shock, pointing his mic at the goat, which he easily recognised, even as it just stood there, chewing away at nothing.

"¡Por supuesto que no, estúpido! ¡Deja de hacer preguntas tontas! Dios mío..." (y/n) snapped haughtily, fed up with the day's stresses, and even though it wasn't in her nature, she didn't think twice about pointing her laser at the poor guy and firing. He went down like a sack of potatoes, hitting the ground with a thud before he could ask what else they were doing, and Ray quickly copied her.

Another five bodies fell, leaving the zoo's entrance looking like a silent protest or even something more sinister, but the couple ignored their dubious choices. They needed to get out of there fast, so after breathing a quick sigh of relief, they dashed over to the goat - the last witness to their misdeeds.

"Not one word about any of this!" Ray ordered the animal sharply before using an orange laser to cut its tether loose. (y/n) smiled at his silliness and patted the goat goodbye, thinking her lover was crazy for talking to the creature like it would say something back. Still, it was endearing, especially when it bleated in response.

"Buuuuuutt!"

"No buts!" He yelled after it as it walked off, probably searching for something strange to eat. Despite his childishness and madness, his sweet girl laughed and shook her head, knowing she wouldn't change him for the world.

"Aw...it was kinda cute," she pondered, smiling up at her husband with fluttering eyelashes as he took her hand, intent on fleeing the scene before someone else came along to photograph their crimes.

"We're not getting a goat, sweet girl..." the man told her gently but firmly, seeing through his wife's loving gaze to see her subtle ulterior motive. He heard the tentativeness in her voice and knew that she was angling for another pet, especially as she oo'ed and aw'ed when she petted the smelly thing.

He'd do anything to keep her happy but drew the line at goats. That thing would shit out the Man's Nest in two weeks, and he had enough with the rabbit.

"But Colin gets lonely!"

"I think he'd prefer an animal not fifty times his size..." he replied dryly to her whine, more focused on navigating the sea of bodies than her pleas. As much as Ray wanted to, he knew he couldn't accidentally-on-purpose step on Brian's face. So, he carefully ambled over the reporter's body, zipping through chaos swiftly and silently whilst (y/n)'s brain worked over time.

Technically, he said that Colin would like another smaller buddy. To her ears, that sounded a lot like permission to get another rabbit--and she'd been asking for one for years. Once she'd cleared Mary's body, she squeezed his arm tightly, practically buzzing as she hung off his body and squealed.

"Does that mean we can get another bunny?!"

"No!" Oh, well. It was worth a shot.

~The next day~

Classes resumed the following morning, and Ray and (y/n) swore they'd gotten away with the minor incident at the zoo.

The kids arrived bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for another fun day of learning, seemingly unsuspecting and definitely not suspicious, and why would they be? Thankfully, nothing untoward aired on the news on all the breakfast shows. Trent and Mary looked worse for wear, but no one mentioned anything. And it gave the couple enough confidence to teach without too many nerves.

Once everyone sat down, the lecture began. Captain Man and Miss Danger took teaching duties together to show Danger Force some videos of their old fights, which wasn't necessarily the best plan, and (y/n) wasn't sure what the kids could learn from them. Still, it was nice to reflect on their victories.

Her doofus looked particularly handsome, wearing one of his signature loud shirts that emphasised his biceps and gave him a boyish air. He looked so good that she hung off every word he said, even if it was complete rubbish, rubbing against his elbows as the kids vaguely listened.

"--And even though we were on top of a moving train, I still saved the day...because I'm Captain Man. The end," Ray grinned, concluding his epic retelling of the time when he and his sidekicks defeated a plethora of supervillains before saving Swellview.

He was so in awe of himself that he didn't see the many eye rolls from his sweet girl, who knew that his story wasn't entirely true.

That was when they bumped into Phoebe Thunderman in Junk-N-Stuff, and if her memory was correct, (y/n) remembered that she, Henry, and the budding heroine had to save Captain Man before he was killed. It was so long ago before they'd even started dating. However, she recalled her panic after thinking she'd lost her love forever.

"You were encased in concrete most of the time," Miles commented dryly after watching the video and hearing his glorified narration. He'd found some plot holes in the man's story--like how The Toddler and Doctor Minyak had trapped him in a stone cube, forcing others to come to save him.

"Mmmm...still saved the day. The end," the man insisted, his ego bolstered by the sweet girl happily squishing his chunky arm. It should've been illegal to look that hot...

"It sounds like Henry, Charlotte, (y/n), and the Thunderman kids did most of the saving," Chapa argued, much to her teacher's annoyance. It was her fault that she was brutally honest, but she had a lot to learn about managing the man-child's ego.

"It sounds like you don't know what the end means."

"Raymond...Stop being mean," (y/n) told her husband sternly, ceasing fondling his muscles to thwack his arm. Ray pouted and sniffled, giving her those infamous puppy-dog eyes because he didn't like being on her bad side, even though he knew not to sink to the children's level.

She kept saying he had to be mature - a role model - but it was so damn difficult when the little ones kept sassing him.

"But sweet girl..."

"No buts!" The woman scolded him, sternly sticking her pointer finger under his nose to show that she meant business. Her glare worked, and he looked remorseful, but it was a mistake to use her left hand - the one that brought her pretty rings into the man's eyesight. Once the diamonds caught his attention, Ray melted, nudging his head forward to kiss her fingertip despite the telling-off.

How was she supposed to stay mad when he did cute things like that?

"We saved you, doofus. Don't you remember the helicopter ride after? God, I wanted to kiss you so bad..." she sighed dreamily as the pupils - save for Mika - wrinkled their noses. The girl thought their love was rather sweet, and she was a huge shipper, hoping to hear more about how their love came to be if her companions didn't chunk up the walls.

Ray grinned and nodded, knowing that during that flight, after all the fighting was done, he felt the same way. With his sweet girl strapped to his chest, he remembered wanting to confess everything he'd ever felt and more, stealing chastely affectionate kisses and soft touches where he could. Still, they stayed silent, enjoying the closeness while it lasted. Look at them now...

But the memory didn't last. As the lovers embraced, pressing every point of their bodies together and nuzzling into warm crannies, Ray's phone began to ring, harshly vibrating against (y/n) 's thigh through her doofus' pocket.

"Wazzzzzup?!" He answered obnoxiously, and instantly, (y/n) knew who'd phoned. It was Schwoz; he and Ray loved doing that stupid, nostalgic greeting, sticking their tongues out and everything just to be authentic. But she knew that if the genius was calling, it had to be crime-related; otherwise, he would've just come downstairs.

"Someone's trying to drill a hole into Swellview Prison so their grandpa can escape!" Schwoz told his boss as he fiddled with some doohickey invention on the table. He knew it had to be kept secret, lowering his voice as Ray's jovial mood turned serious.

"On it!" The man nodded, and again, his wife took a moment to admire how effortlessly handsome he was. They'd be heading out again in three seconds. The action would be too fast-paced to admire him truly, so she stared longingly at the shirt, committing every garish pattern and how they hid his abs to memory.

He quickly hung up and gave her a sneaky glance, darting his eyes toward the door as a hint that they needed to leave. (y/n) didn't need to be told twice; she grabbed his hand and swiftly headed for the door, but they wouldn't get away easily.

"Who was that?" Mika asked, jumping into their path with surprising speed so she could interrogate them. The adults gulped as Ray backed up into his sweet girl when the girl spooked him, and honestly, it was pretty scary, given the girl's questioning scowl.

Even though they hadn't let on, the kids were highly suspicious, figuring out the previous night that the couple were lying about the crime drought. She wanted to see them squirm, hear their excuse this time, and scrutinise their every twitch as she wormed the truth out.

"Uh..." he thought for a second, eyes flickering to the left as he stalled, trying to desperately think of a liar good enough to dupe the smart one.

"My hairdresser! I'm late for my appointment--at the haircut store..." Ray stuttered, going from disaster to disaster as his words jumbled up to form nonsense.

What was a haircut store? Did he mean salon? It made (y/n) sigh and rub her face, seeing how Mika scoffed and blocked his way every time the hero tried to side-step her. Yeah, no one bought that...

"You gettin' some frosted tips? Blond highlights are very in right now," Bose said with an adorably innocent smile. However, he should've realised that that was a ridiculously youthful style for a man pushing forty and noticed that the man was lying through his teeth.

"Yeah, sure. I'm getting frosted tips...Now move." Ray nodded quickly, even though he wasn't entirely sure what they were. Still, he didn't care as long as Mika moved out of the way, throwing a pencil across the room as a distraction. It worked; when the girl's focus followed the flying object, the hero moved, tugging his sweet girl behind him as they dashed for the door.

"I think you're lying!" Yet they still couldn't escape. Before (y/n) could grasp the gold, gilded doorknob, Miles' voice called after them, accusing them of such a heinous thing--though it was true. He didn't even need to turn his head to know that the couple wouldn't stand for that, pausing in the doorway as he smirked smugly - he had them.

The heroes turned slowly, wearing expressions, to see the kids staring back, having spun their chairs around to judge them. It was like standing in front of the damn Inquisition, and the heroine gulped, her stomach twisting into knots when she saw their disappointed little faces...

"Beg your pardon?" She asked nervously, wringing her sweaty hands together as she tried to appear normal. It wasn't working.

"I said, I think you and your husband are lying! Do you normally go with him when he gets a haircut?" Miles repeated, violently standing from his chair before swaggering over to the couple to hear their excuse. His question was fair, and (y/n) didn't blame him for being so harsh - she loved his floppy locks, but Ray wasn't a baby.

"I value her opinion," her doofus said defensively, putting his arm around her shoulders when he saw how flustered she was. He fiercely protected her, practically snarling at the boy, not that it dissuaded him.

"I don't think you're going to the haircut store at all. I think you're going to fight crime without us!" Miles snapped, boldly standing up against the man, even as he used his famous Captain Man glare. At least Miss Danger had the decency to look ashamed, staring at her shoes and leaning into his side to try and burrow away.

"Why would we go and fight crime without you guys? We respect all of your abilities. Equally..." Ray asked quietly, his sarcastic tone aggravating the situation further.

"That's not helpful!" (y/n) hissed as her doofus tried to leave, yanking the door open as her cheeks burned with humiliation. He wasn't good under pressure, and not when people were picking on him, so he wanted to get out ASAP, not that they'd let him. Still, she didn't see how his snarky comments would help them, not when they deepened their frowns and huddled closer - almost like they were about to attack.

"Then, I look forward to seeing your blonde highlights when you get back...From the haircut store! He'll look so sweet, right, (y/n/n)?" Chapa smiled sourly, her arms folded tightly across her chest as Ray gulped and looked at his sweet girl for help.

"Like candy..." The heroine nodded awkwardly, knowing she wouldn't let any stylist near her doofus' floppy locks, not for something as hideous as frosted tips. Yet, they couldn't look like liars, either, cogs turning as they headed to leave again, wondering how they'd dye the man's hair without ruining it.

"They'll probably be more subtle...like a strawberry blonde," Ray noted, momentarily turning back to poke his head through the door - anything to try and save himself.

"Yeah. Can't wait."

"--Or a burnt caramel, kind of a tawny colour, something tasteful. You guys probably won't even notice!" He rambled before (y/n) yanked him onto the porch, slamming the door shut behind him. He just made it worse and worse, spiralling further into the lie until he was cringing and crawling around his home like a common thief.

She didn't want to know what the kids would get up to as they sprinted to their battle stations, hurrying to get to the jailhouse before something awful happened. Something told her that they wouldn't drop the issue, her tummy crying that something would go wrong in one way or another.

"Can't we just tell them, Raymond? I'm sick of all this lying!" She said as they stumbled into a dense, bushy area, looking for cover while removing their gum tubes.

"What? You don't think I'd look good with snowy tips?" The hero asked jokingly, running his fingers through his unstyled, quaffed hair, pushing back the silky hair as she admired how handsome he was. He looked good with anything, but that didn't mean he had to change; no, she loved the adorable idiot she fell in love with...

"Frosted tips, doofus, and no, I don't. I like your hair the way it is."

"Aw... Do I look...pretty?" Ray giggled, loving to hear her laugh when he tossed his head back like a model from a shampoo advert, hair flicking every which way.

"So very pretty," (y/n) nodded, forgetting her job and gum for a moment as she wound her arms around her doofus' neck and pulled him down for a short but sweet kiss. He hummed against her lips, loping his hand around to lay in the small of her back, pressing their bodies together closely as the other tilted her chin further upwards.

"Nothing compared to you, sweet girl. You're beautiful..." the man whispered when they gently broke apart, satisfied and smiling like idiots. Her cheeks and ears burned at his words, but Ray looked so genuine, looking at his wife like no one else - he never looked so softly at any other woman in all his life. She was so gorgeous it actually hurt.

"Come on, smooth operator. We need to get going," she cleared her throat, feeling like a goddess under his gaze. Still, unfortunately, that wouldn't stop the criminals from jailbreaking. She remembered they had a job to do and wiggled out of his arms, pecking his cheek one final time before rolling a gumball free.

But Ray wasn't one to be defeated, blatantly leaning back on his heels to trail his gaze down her body, eyes lingering on the soft, squishy curve of her ass. Looking back at her pretty face, he grinned cheekily, thinking that a runaway criminal wouldn't be too tricky. Once they had locked him up and thrown away the key, they'd quickly return to the Man's Nest. A needy guy like him, a beautiful girl like him...they could make magic together.

"Hey, how about an early night tonight?"

"Come on, Ray!" At least she didn't say no.

~Swellview Prison~

Outside the concrete maze that was the city's largest prison, home to all manner of scum, shit was going down.

From the worst of society to the pettiest of pilferers, Swellview Prison housed every criminal Captain Man and his sidekicks had ever encountered - plus a few extras that the police somehow managed to catch. Still, what could go in could also come out, or at least that was the thinking of a budding young villain - a small, ginger child, who, with his crew, was lasering the thick stone walls to try and get to the other side.

He thought he was so slick, standing back as his minions used some evil doohickey to chisel chip after chip away from the wall. Soon, they'd make it through to the opposite cell, and their prison break would be complete. That is if two superheroes didn't have something to say about it...

"All right, ya jerks. Time to kill that drill!" Captain Man barked forcefully as he sauntered up to the rotten crew, Miss Danger by his side with a severe and intimidating expression - or as intimidating as she could get next to the hulking, grouchy man. God, she loved it when he was in hero mode.

However, despite his commands, the criminals didn't even bat an eye, carrying on with their misdeeds without a care in the world. It didn't take much for (y/n) to realise that the whirring of their machine, pummelled concrete, and the noise-cancelling headphones on their heads meant they couldn't hear anything, including them.

"Uh, doofus...I don't think they can hear us."

"Hang on, darlin'..." Ray sniffed, clearing his throat when he saw that she was right. He wasn't one for false starts, but no matter. He readjusted his stance and pointed a stern finger at the little boy.

"Put your hands in the air like you just do care--about the law! Brah!"

"Wow, way to tell them, Captain," (y/n) retorted sarcastically, watching as her doofus tried to be all high and mighty, bellowing his orders, just to be ignored. For a man like him to be humiliated and disregarded, especially in front of his sweet girl, was too much, and the hero clenched his fists and growled in frustration.

"All right, that's it--hey!" he snapped, tired of their ignorance, so he stormed over and waved his hands, shouting, ranting and raving like a madman.

Miss Danger stayed back with her hands on her hips, smiling in satisfaction when she watched her husband spook the trio, their faces contorting in shock and fear because Captain Man was glaring at them. They shrugged the ear mufflers off, staring at the hero and his hot sidekick with baffled faces, mouths open and eyes wide but full of hate.

"Captain Man?! Miss Danger!" The boy, named Crank, gasped in awe of the heroes as they glared at him, which he quickly returned. He came from a long line of lowlifes and crooks, so thievery and devilry ran in his blood, as did a deep hatred of stupid, interfering do-gooders.

"Hey, ginger nuts. You look busy over here..." (y/n) said dryly, observing how they'd tunnelled through to get inside, although they weren't exactly subtle about it.

"Yeah! I'm over here dropping dope rhymes in front of my incredibly hot wife, but none of you poops are even paying attention," Ray hissed, going toe-to-toe with Crank as the kid wrinkled his freckled nose, disgusted by both the man's youthful words and how disgustingly in love he was.

"Well, sorry, but we were trying to break my grandpa out of jail," Crank explained. He looked strangely sweet and innocent despite his thuggish attire of chain necklaces and a striped t-shirt. The couple almost felt sorry for him, wondering if this was just a misguided child trying to see his beloved relative again - doing evil for the right reasons.

"Aw...I bet you love him," (y/n) cooed, bending down, hand on her knees, to meet his eye as her doofus placed a warm hand on her back, almost moved by those big, sad eyes.

"He owes me money! Gonna break his legs..." But their adoration was misplaced. The boy's cute face scrunched into a scowl, his gaze turning as hard and mean as a lifelong hard-nut - similar to the snarls they'd

It shocked the heroes, leaning away from the little shit and how evil he seemed. He wanted something cold and callous from his dear old grandpa, even threatening him with violence. That was the last time (y/n) would empathise with him, shocked by his coarse behaviour and cruel personality - not childlike.

"Well, I'm afraid we can't let you do either of those things, carrot top," she said firmly, giving him one of her disapproving, motherly glares, hoping he'd feel some guilt. But that was hard when the miniature villain was egged on by her silly doofus.

"But...just out of curiosity, how much does he owe you? Because, y'know, for a reasonable collection fee, I could just go in there and--" Ray whispered, clicking his tongue and giving Crank a nudge-nudge, wink-wink side-eye as his sweet girl stared at him in disbelief.

She couldn't believe her ears, blinking hard three times to ensure she hadn't misheard him. Sometimes, Ray had some questionable ideas, and she hoped he had enough common sense to know she'd kill him if he ever conspired with criminals. A glare from her was enough to make him shrink back, instantly regretting his choices since Miss Danger would never stoop so low, and she certainly didn't expect Captain Man to, either.

"Captain Man!" She exclaimed, horrified. Ray pouted when she roughly elbowed his ribs, knowing it was stupid to say, but he'd never actually go through with it. Still, he hated the idea of disappointing her, staring at his feet when his angel gave him a stern talking-to.

"You will keep your butt right there, and if I find out you've been doing favours for criminals, I swear to God, I'll--" She never got to finish her rant.

Mid-fury, a loud whoosh filled the clearing, interrupting Ray's telling-off because she swore she knew that noise. Her face fell, taken by a pensive, confused expression since that sounded much like when Miles teleported. But that was impossible because the children had been left safely in the Man's Nest.

Or, at least, the couple thought that until they turned around, expecting to see a noisy squirrel or pigeon, not those meddling kids.

They made such a racket, landing in the thick bushes, thanks to Miles and his inability to control where he teleported, and the dense branches meant moving around was nigh-on impossible. Shouting and struggling to get free, they complained about his poor aim and how their impromptu appearance wasn't such a good idea - (y/n) could attest to that.

"Excuse us for a minute," the heroine said to Crank with a fake brilliant smile, holding a finger up as Ray took her hand and swiftly guided her to where Danger Force was making a scene.

"Hey! What are you doing here?!" The man exclaimed, shouting above their rowdiness, and the quartet fell silent. He couldn't believe it, seeing them in their multicoloured uniforms and knowing they'd deliberately disobeyed orders, even though he hadn't helped with his lies. It was embarrassing to be caught short in front of criminals...

"What are you doing here?!" Mika fired back, trying to mimic Miss Danger's disappointed face since they'd been caught red-handed amid their fib, yet they showed no shame. But honestly, it was no time for arguing, not when they were in a perilous, very delicate situation that the children were hideously unprepared for.

"Fighting crime!" (y/n) answered bravely, knowing they couldn't lie anymore, but she was angry that they'd followed them to the prison. It was almost cute how they thought crimefighting was glamorous and exciting, ignorant of the horrors and hardship until they were over their heads.

"That's funny. I thought you and your husband were at the haircut store getting frosted tips!" Chapa spat back, not realising the danger they'd put themselves in, given how woefully inadequate their powers were.

"Yeah, well, my wife decided it looked fine the way it was. She thinks I look pretty!"

"Ew..." The boys and Chapa wrinkled their noses, not missing how the couple swapped an adoring look, holding hands even tighter despite their irritation. Their love was sickening, but at least they helped them out of the bushes, pulling back the foliage so each kid could wriggle free.

"If it's okay with you, I'm gonna go back to breaking my grandpa out of prison," Crank called to the heroes, not wanting to be associated with any of their drama. He wasn't one for insubordination in the ranks. Still, he guessed that if they were busy arguing, he could get the old man out and his money before those idiots knew what was happening.

"No!"

"Yeah, no!" Mika shouted, countering the adamant adults as they tried to rein in Crank, hopefully trying to manage both situations before they got out of hand. But, like all preteens, the kids thought they knew better - so much better than Ray and (y/n), who'd been fighting crime for years - and had collectively decided they'd prove them wrong.

They were superheroes, powers and all. They could fight and win, and then, they'd be laughing at the mighty Captain Man and Miss Danger for ever doubting them. That would be so damn satisfying, even though they didn't see what could go wrong.

"'Cause we're gonna stop you!

"Uh, we're gonna stop them because we're the superheroes," Ray argued, gesturing to himself and his sweet girl as she folded her arms, utterly unimpressed by their behaviour. She liked the enthusiasm but, like her doofus, preferred to see it in their lessons, not with so much at stake.

"Yeah, the superheroes who've been lying to us for a week!"

"There hasn't been a crime drought!" The Macklin twins replied harshly, glaring at their teachers like they had no argument to stand on. They didn't understand that they lied with the best intentions, hoping to spare them from defeat and humiliation because their superpowers didn't mean instant glory. They had to be mastered - carefully, slowly, painstakingly so.

"You've just been telling us that so you two can fight crimes by yourselves!" Chapa growled equally as angry, which only frustrated the couple. It was a mess.

"Yeah, you bet we've been lying to you! Tell them, sweet girl!" Captain Man snapped back, head snapping to (y/n), who didn't like to lead the argument.

Still, for once, she was ready to support her doofus fully, not shying away from confrontation because she cared for them. She indeed did, and she'd never forgive herself if she allowed the kids to go into battle willy-nilly just to get themselves hurt, kidnapped, or worse - killed. Sighing, she sniffed and looked at all of them, looking more concerned than irate because they didn't grasp the situation - they didn't have a clue.

"Sorry, guys, but I agree with Captain Man," she sighed again before looking across the group, flaws and weaknesses popping into her head as she did.

"Miles, Chapa--you guys can't control your powers. Mika, you don't even have one yet! And Bose...well, need I say more? He wears shirts for pants!"

"They're called shants!" Bose said happily, thinking his creation was brilliantly inventive, but it proved the woman's point. The team was either uncoordinated or useless, meaning they'd be a dangerous liability in the field and not something Captain Man wanted loose in the city. So, as much as they didn't like it, they weren't ready, no matter how much enthusiasm they had.

"Face it...None of you are ready to be superheroes," Ray said gravely, hating to crush their spirit, but it was true. Their faces fell, rage mixing with despair because they thought they could do it and prove him wrong... It was soul-destroying.

"It's true...It's just too dangerous," (y/n) nodded solemnly, but Mika didn't leave it there. Looking up with a defiant glint, she slowly stepped toward the couple, knowing deep down they had more to give. Despite the adults ' counsel, she believed in herself and her friends, thinking the power of friendship and all that bullshit would triumph over evil.

"You're right. I don't have a superpower--I might not ever get one. But you know what?" she started, staring firmly at the heroine as she stared back, both thinking they were correct.

"Being a superhero isn't about having a superpower. It's about what's inside of you. It's about what's in here!"

"Our skeletons!" Bose nodded, even though it wasn't particularly helpful. Still, all that mystical shit made the heroes gag, knowing that real life--hero life--didn't work like that.

"Oh, good God--" (y/n) muttered as she tried not to roll her eyes. Again, she liked her enthusiasm, agreeing that superheroes needed a lot of that mushy stuff - hope, spirit, optimism, bravery - but practical skills were essential, like a basic grasp on power.

"I know I've got what it takes to be a superhero. And I know they do, too," the girl said wistfully, gesturing to her band of merry friends, who were just as ready to kick some ass, feeling their team's bond even after just a few of working together.

"We're not saying you don't have what it takes. I don't want to see you all pulverised because you aren't trained!" Miss Danger hissed, rubbing her tired eyes when the girl smiled up at her hopefully, praying her little speech had tugged on her heartstrings.

However, if anything, her warning made Mika and the others more determined, gritting their teeth when Ray nudged her arm. Looking up, (y/n) gulped when she saw Crank's goons cracking their knuckles and sneering, clearly ready for a fight that the kids weren't prepared for. They could barely throw a punch, making her all the more nervous to see them on the battlefield.

"Hey, come on, sweet girl..." Ray sighed, to her surprise. He took her hand and guided his wife to the sidelines, moving past the child team so the floor was theirs. It was their move, and despite his better instincts, he knew they'd never learn until they gauged their powers.

"Okay, show us how ready you are."

"Really?" (y/n) quirked an eyebrow, looking back at her doofus as he frowned and shrugged. He didn't need her to tell him it was a bad idea, but they seemed so happy--grinning after finally gaining his permission.

"Okay, fine! Come on then, Danger Force! Take it away! Show us the extent of your power--may the power of friendship protect you, rainbows, ponies, whatever..."

"Let's do this..." Mika breathed deeply before looking at her friends, their excited smiles falling into sober countenances, void of everything but concentration. This moment was three weeks in the making, and they wanted it to go perfectly, given that the city's greatest heroes would scrutinise their every move.

Honestly, they looked pretty cool as they walked toward the villains in a line. Like something from a movie or TV show, time seemingly slowed down as they readied their attacks, clenching fists, storing electricity, squeezing glutes, and stalking toward the snarling crooks, who cockily stepped up to teach them a lesson - one that Captain Man and Miss Danger hadn't quite reached yet.

Falling back on their little training, Mika and Miles took the flanks, waiting for a physical attack. At the same time, Chapa and Bose waited with their powers on standby, knowing it was wise to wait for a minute to see who would make the first move. Ray and (y/n) looked at each other nervously, the latter's tummy tingle telling her something wasn't right.

"Doofus, I'm nervous..." she whispered, clutching at his beefy arm as Ray gulped, knowing how she felt.

"It'll be fine, darlin'. Completely fine..." the hero replied, squeezing her hand as she held a hand over her eyes, peeking through her fingers. She didn't want to watch but had to, worried sick despite his reassuring words. Surely, it can't be that bad, her doofus swore, but he what he didn't know...

"I haven't learned to aim yet..." Chapa whispered to her friends, feeling the electricity surging through her veins, ready to explode, but her aim was terrible. Genuinely awful. It was all right having so much power - arguably the strongest of the four - but if it didn't hit her enemies, what was the point?

Still, her friends believed in her, muttering words of encouragement ranging from self-belief to learning on the spot, so she went for it. She had no choice, clenching her jaw and firing, sending bolts of scarlet energy across the battlefield...and into Captain Man. Who then tripped into Miss Danger. Who face-planted the floor. And then, he went flying. Straight onto the prison roof.

This was why they said they weren't ready.

"Doofus!" (y/n) cried, watching in horror when she came to her senses to see her husband flying through the night sky. He collided with a security gate before falling into the prison courtyard, and she prayed there were no late-night frolickers in there. They'd tear the man who put them inside limb from limb.

"You guys! You attacked the wrong person!" She shrieked, turning to look at the bashful children with an alarmed face as the goons cackled, loving how they'd taken care of the hero for them. Now, they just needed to take care of Miss Danger, and without her watchdog of a lover around, that would be easy. And the kids? They were laughable, easy pickings.

"Bose! How could you?!" Chapa gasped falsely, placing all the blame on the oblivious kid as he stood there as vacant as usual. It really didn't help (y/n)'s mood or situation since they were now down their strongest super.

"I don't care whose fault it was. Someone go and get my husband!"

"Get in there and bring back Captain Man," Mika said to her brother, seeing the heroine's distress since those two were inseparable - the one thing she'd learned after three weeks in school. And she wasn't dumb enough to think they were better off without him.

"Copy that--" Miles nodded before throwing his arm into the air, disappearing in a flash of golden light. Whether he'd successfully teleport to the hero and bring him back in one piece was different, but (y/n) was grateful that the boy tried.

"Get 'em!" Crank bellowed to his lackeys, spooking the three remaining kids, even as Miss Danger immediately adjusted her stance to protectively stand in front of them.

Those men were huge, hairy, and undoubtedly exceeded her strength. Usually, she relied on her lover to dish out the raw brute force. Simultaneously, she found gaps in the fight to use her agility and swiftness to exploit an enemy's weakness. Still, she hoped that if the kids could distract them - safely - she might be able to subdue them until Miles returned with Ray.

"Okay, stay behind me. I'll keep you guys safe," (y/n) told the kids, her fists drawn up as she prepared to take the men on, hoping she could keep all three safe while fighting two men.

However, things didn't play out the way she hoped. The goons charged first, running toward her with their teeth bared and fists ready to pummel her face, and whilst she was prepared to fight, the kids didn't listen. Contrary to her instructions, they released a battle cry before running past her and into the fray - the last line of defence. This could only go wrong...

They met in the middle as (y/n) floundered, baffled by the sudden commotion. Chapa immediately went for a lightning strike, summoning and ejecting her electricity with the hope that she'd hit Crank. Yet, her aim was as terrible as usual.

Instead of zapping the criminal kid, she shot his device, the one lasering through the prison wall, causing the bolt to rebound and hit her in the chest. She flew backwards at a tremendous speed, hitting Miss Danger and sending them into the dense bushes lining the walkway. Instantly, their limbs were tangled in the branches, rendering them useless as the men grabbed Mika and Bose.

"Chapa! You really need to work on your aim!"

"Dangit! I know!" The girl hissed, fighting against the woman as they stood back-to-back, wrapped in vines and God knows what else, so they could barely move. Maybe it would've been wise to listen to the heroine and her husband, but it was too late to think like that.

As they clawed to get free, Mika and Bose struggled with the goons, suddenly realising that stuff like superhero qualities, hope, optimism, and all that mushy stuff wouldn't help them against two hulking lugs like them. They were children--no match for them as they twisted their arms around their backs and kicked the backs of their legs, tossing them around like rag dolls.

It got even better when Miles returned--just not how (y/n) hoped. The boy teleported the hero out of the prison but didn't quite make it outside; instead, they materialised halfway through the wall, creating a large gaping hole with the hero wedged in between the concrete and his protégé - basically useless.

"Hey! Heyyy!" Ray groaned as he hung from the wall, barely able to lift his head from the awkward position.

"Captain Man?" (y/n) asked breathlessly, looking up in horror to see her doofus stuck in a wall with Miles pinned behind him. Oh God, it broke her heart to see him like that, above the fight and seeing the kids in danger, yet unable to help. She knew how he felt...

"We're up here, sweet girl!" The hero called out to her, barely able to see that she and Chapa were stuck in the bushes, and it made his heart clench in worry, frustration and anger. He should've just taken out the bad guys when he had the chance - his wife wouldn't be in danger then - but the kids had been so sure - a mistake to believe them now he reflected on it.

"Bose, what are you doing?" Chapa asked as the boy tried to use his telekinesis to lift Crank's machine - intentionally or not, they couldn't figure out since he was being pulled apart by a thug.

"Will you guys get down here?" Shockingly, even the ginger kid wanted Captain Man on the scene, thinking things were getting a little out of hand with the man's freaky, uncontrollable sidekicks and how they could make things float. But that was wishful thinking, given how Miles' arms were pinned, rendering his power useless since he couldn't teleport without them.

"We can't!"

"What happened?" Mika asked frantically, distracted by the lackey wrestling with her to see her brother and boss.

She, too, was now beginning to realise that her plan wasn't very well thought out after throwing a few punches just to weakly tap the guy's stomach. It made her knuckles ache and her skin bruise, making her wonder how Captain Man and Miss Danger did it so quickly, not knowing that practice took the pain away - something they sorely needed.

"We got stuck in a wall on the way back!" Miles groaned, feeling highly uncomfortable as every inch of his body pressed against Ray--not something he'd ever wanted. He'd leave that to (y/n).

"That can happen?!" His sister gasped, knowing he'd been transported to many different countries and biomes, but appearing in a wall was new. She was glad they weren't hurt - half in the wall with their gizzards mushed around wasn't a good look.

"I have just learned that it can!" The boy replied dryly, not knowing what else she wanted him to say. He'd had his powers for a few weeks; there was much to learn.

As they were chatting, Bose's concentration increased - not something that happened regularly for the lad. He wasn't used to so much brainpower. He rapidly fatigued as he raised the laser above the man holding him, aiming to bash him on the head or some such attack.

However, the kid wasn't one for strategy; not seeing how a hefty object crashing down so close to him was a bad idea until it was too late. The device crashed into the goon and Bose, sending them both to the ground in an aching, groaning pile.

"I thought that would work..." he whined, lifting his face from the dirt as the machine lay useless, but the henchman still stayed on top of him. His entire lower half was pinned down, and lifting the heavy tripod had depleted his energy, leaving Bose wishing he'd practised lifting pencils and cotton wool more like Miss Danger had recommended.

"You see? Not--ready!" Ray growled, thinking he'd thoroughly proved his and (y/n)'s point, even if it was no time for gloating.

Yet no one could deny it, not when he had a bird's eye view of the battlefield, seeing how Chapa had rendered Miss Danger and herself trapped, Bose had KO'd himself, and Miles had screwed him over, which left just Mika. Poor, sorry old Mika, left with no powers, training, and nowhere to go since one of Crank's henchmen had her subdued.

"I agree. Face it, kids, this whole thing was a disaster--you aren't ready!" (y/n) agreed, fighting against the vines wrapped tightly around her torso and forearms to no avail. She hated to be a downer, but she saw no way out of this, thinking they were well and truly screwed because they weren't good listeners.

All that hope and wonder crap didn't happen in the real world, but Mika still believed. Hearing her heroes so disappointed and defeatist angered the resilience in her, and despite how bleak everything was, she still had some fight left. She wasn't sure what fight it was, given her physical prowess was shit, but their lack of trust in her--in the team--made her want to yell--to scream--to shout out.

"Yes--we--ARE!" She bellowed, feeling a power surge through her, and (y/n) had to blink to ensure her eyes weren't playing tricks.

A brilliant silver glow surrounded the girl, reminding the heroine of the night when she gained her tummy tingle - the glow of the Omega Weapon's energy. She struggled against her captor, feeling stronger than ever as she roared, her voice louder than a jet engine as her voice box beamed sonic waves toward the prison wall.

Mika Macklin had found her superpower, breaking down the wall with her almighty scream - so potent it could break through concrete. It was brilliant, making her teachers and friends gawp and gasp, utterly shocked at her ability and its uncanny knack for appearing at such a dismal moment.

"Holy shit..." (y/n) breathed under her breath, watching rubble fly through the air, making Crank and his goons avoid debris.

She was in awe of the girl's superpower, knowing that she must've had one deep down, but she'd never have guessed it would be so...loud. Her ears were ringing, but she ignored the slight pain, more focused on the gaping hole the girl had made in a solid three-foot-wide wall of concrete. And it just had to be in the most dangerous building in Swellview.

"You guys, I have a superpower!" Mika squealed, feeling her throat relax again as a beaming smile grew on her face, her every nerve on fire with delight when she realised she'd done that. That big hole? Mika Macklin did that.

"It's about time!"

"Time reveals all things."

"You can fly?!" Came the ecstatic congratulations of her friends, although Bose was a little confused. He had the energy, though, as happy for his friend as the others were, and it inspired her with new determination. She was gonna win this fight.

Referring back to her minimal training, Mika struggled against the goon's grip, trying to free her shoulders, even as his hands tightened painfully on her upper arms. She couldn't regain that vibration no matter how much she growled or barked. With no superpower, it was easy for the henchman to drag her to the bushes, where he wasted no time tangling her in the foliage.

He wasn't stupid, seeing his chance to secure the scene as someone emerged from the hole. It was a wrinkled, doddery and clumsy old man who carefully stepped out onto the rubble and into the free world, still wearing his garishly orange prison uniform.

"Pop-pop?" Crank asked hopefully, his voice returning to the same innocent, childlike wonder he'd used to fool Captain Man and Miss Danger. Still, his grandfather didn't see anything wrong. Instead, he seemed happy to see him, opening his arms to invite him into a warm, familiar hug, even if it smelled like cabbage and boiled sweets.

"Crank, my boy!"

"You owe me money!" The ginge screamed, his face melting into a furious sneer that had his grandpa shaking in his Long Johns. He fled into his cell again, preferring the harshness of serving time to facing the menace that was his own flesh and blood, leaving the heroes stuck outside.

The goons fled, too, seeing as their boss was well on his way to enacting his revenge, which wasn't too bad. The gang was stuck, but at least they weren't fighting anymore, giving (y/n) and Ray some time to think of a strategy - some way to escape danger before some other tragedy happened.

"Well, well, well..." Or not.

"I know those wells..." (y/n) gulped, not needing to be a genius to know that whiny, high-pitched voice. She prayed it was a bad dream, thinking the night couldn't get any worse, but it could. It definitely could.

Like one of their most sinister terrors, the couple watched with aghast faces as The Toddler poked his ugly mug through the hole after hearing the commotion from his cell down the hall. He knew a jailbreak when he saw one, feeling the need to explore when he saw Gangster Grandpa running away from some ginger kid.

The heroes froze, especially the kids, sensing they weren't dealing with petty criminals any more - this was the big leagues.

"What's going on out here?" The villain asked smarmily, stepping through the hole in his orange baby onesie and cap.

"Toddler! Get back in your crib!" Captain Man ordered, disregarding the pain in his shoulders as he tried to get free, scraping his skin against the broken stone. This was a nightmare of epic proportions; he, Kid Danger, and his sweet girl had spent months - years, even - putting every big name in Swellview behind bars, cleaning up the streets until most of their enemies faced justice.

But the kids had undone it in one fell swoop. He had to be dreaming.

"No!" The Toddler snapped, glad to see Captain Man was in a particularly sticky situation and his little wife or whatever was disengaged too. He'd heard about their union or whatever. It made him want to vomit, but nothing was sweeter than knowing the ones who'd put him in jail would watch helplessly as he and all the other prisoners busted out. That would be his wedding gift to them.

"Come on, everybody! We're free again!"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no---" Ray practically sobbed as he watched the man-baby run off into the night, skipping with joy since there were no silly superheroes around to stop him. And it didn't stop there.

With the alarm raised, every other villain in the prison bolted for freedom, making the couple thump their fists in frustration as the floodgates of scum opened. And all the kids could do was watch in shame, knowing that while they'd come with good intentions, this was ultimately their fault.

"Oh, sweet cheese--not him!" (y/n) groaned as she saw a familiarly glitzy face poke around the corner, dolled up and preened to look like a bejewelled peacock. The villain who irked her the most - Frankini.

"Yay!" He cheered, doing some ballet jumps and lunges.

After checking the coast was clear, he dramatically twirled into the courtyard, loving the smell of the open world as he danced in his heels. She wasn't sure if his outfit was classed as prison attire, featuring a goddamn turban, stripy leggings, and plenty of bling, but she didn't care. He still looked like an over-groomed poodle, which made her heart ache to know he would cause more mischief now he was loose.

"Frankini! Wait for me!" The lumbering nugget Goomer called after him, traipsing like a lost puppy since he didn't have enough brain cells for independent thought.

"I can't bee-lieve my luck!" Oh, goodie, Ray thought as The Beekeeper appeared, still as creepy as ever as he snuck through the hole in his protective orange suit. Close behind him was Doctor Minyak, his lanky frame barely fitting through the frame. Still, he made it, looking at his surroundings in shock because it had been a while since Captain Man put him in jail.

"I still have hope for a win!" He shouted boldly in his fancy accent, thinking that this was a sign; it was his chance to finally beat the superheroes after so many years of defeat, and he disappeared into the night before he had his collar felt.

"Oh, God..." (y/n) sighed when the next prisoner filtered through, and this one genuinely irritated her. She could perhaps deal with the others - they gave a genuine, worthwhile fight - but this guy was a moron. The dumbest criminal in Swellview. The one person she and Ray hated dealing with because he was so simple - mentally and physically. Jeff Bilsky.

"My life has purpose again! Yeah!" He exclaimed as he plodded into the spotlight, looking as stupid and dirty as ever in his ancient baseball cap and unwashed uniform. The heroes felt their souls break as they watched him flee, knowing they'd get many more calls once he returned to his life of petty crime.

"Time to go!" The Timejerker giggled as he followed Jeff, but not before he got another ridiculous, time-related pun in. God, those were annoying, even for the children, who tugged against their restraints and growled - it wasn't any easier for them.

The flow of villains petered off, but that didn't make it any better. All the criminals Ray cared about - The Toddler, Minyak, stupid Jeff - had made their escapes and were probably dozens of blocks away by now, returning to their hideouts and nooks to plot a million more evil ideas for him to sort out. Perhaps a few more would realise the prison was no longer secure.

Still, they hardly compared to actual supervillains - the real thorns in Captain Man and Miss Danger's sides, so it was a big well done for Danger Force. They'd really blown things out of the water--the first heroic team to bust bad guys out of jail rather than put them in there. Honestly, they deserved a trophy.

"You happy?" Ray asked tiredly, mainly looking at Mika since she was the ringleader, but he was disappointed in all of them. He didn't even want to think how long it would take to mop up their mess.

"Yeah! I got a superpower!" But the girl didn't seem bothered. She was more content with her newfound ability than she and her friends had single-handedly caused the worst crime spike in Swellview history, barely even thinking about the consequences of her uncontrollable super-scream.

"You just let every criminal out of Swellview Prison!" (y/n) told her harshly, not even bothering to hide her irritation because it hurt--physically hurt--to see the girl smile. Well, she was glad someone was happy, but she could be the one to run around after the crooks when they wreaked mayhem.

"With my superpower, (y/n/n)!"

"Hey, it's Miss Danger when we're in uniform and another thing--the next time you decide to gatecrash a mission, please don't ignore me when I give you a co--oh, God, what the hell is he wearing?"

(y/n) frowned as she paused Mika's scolding, suddenly distracted when a gaudy flash of glitter and garish colours blinded her poor eyes. Everyone looked at the prison hole in confusion as Frankini dashed through it again, no longer in his uniform but in some kind of dance costume. He looked like some kind of tutti-frutti beanstalk, flicking a ribbon through the air as he twirled across the ground - attention-seeking like always.

"Weeeee!" He squealed before running off again, but it didn't stop there. He marked the start of the second flood, guiding more prisoners toward the exit with his multicoloured leotard and bizarre dance moves.

"I started out as a good guy!" Jack Frittleman cackled as he darted out, a sick grin on his face as he rubbed his palms together. It had been too long since he'd attempted to kill Captain Man and his sidekicks in that escape room, and he was hungry for revenge; taking off into the night as two familiar faces appeared behind him.

"So did we!" (y/n) could barely watch from the shame as The Thumb Buddies did their secret handshake, still hideously deformed after their former heroes left them to die from overexposure to solar radiation.

They seemed in good spirits, but behind their happiness, the heroine saw the madness, feeling deeply uncomfortable as the purple and hairy men jumped and ran, also ready to end the superheroes for ruining their lives. She still had nightmares about those two, wondering if she could've done more to help...

"Hey! I just realised--we ended the crime drought!" Bose exclaimed as the criminals lulled again, giving the group a break from humiliation. Still, it didn't help when the boy reminded everyone of the adults' lies--sounding almost happy like the prison escape was a good thing.

"Now, you have to let us fight crime!" Chapa told Ray and (y/n), knowing they'd need all the help they could get with so many evil people on the streets. Was that slightly sadistic? Maybe, but she didn't care, loving that they'd ultimately gotten their way, albeit with a minor disaster.

"Yeah, you're gonna need our help to capture all these bad guys," Miles agreed, deliberately talking into Ray's ear as he grunted. And he used to complain about Jasper - the kid was a genius compared to this lot.

"We'll probably need, like, a hundred hilarious missions to do it--maybe more!"

"Just when I thought we were done..." (y/n) sighed, knowing her doofus was right. One adventure finished, and another began, meaning her married life wouldn't be boring, which was more than some wives could say.

Was she hoping for a little more relaxation to settle down? Yeah--but what did she expect? Life hadn't been normal since that fateful afternoon in that café.

A figure pulled her from her thoughts, shocking her brain with their bright and tacky outfit as they leapt from the prison like a pink and silver leopard. On closer inspection, she realised it was Frankini - again - who'd run around the building just to filter through again, eager to show off his fashion sense to Miss Danger and her new little friends.

"Are you just going back around and running out over and over again?" Chapa asked as the man shimmied, dancing to the music in his head as the girl tried to work out if she was crazy or just having déjà vu.

"Check--check!" The glamorous villain ignored her, revealing that his outfit came with a microphone--just what he needed since (y/n) couldn't get enough of his stupid voice... He turned to the moody child with a smug smirk, thinking she could use a few fashion tips - probably from his dear friend Miss Danger, whom he couldn't wait to fight and frolic with again.

"Sweetie...I smuggled seventy-five outfits into this prison, and you're going to see every last one of them!" He announced, throwing his head back and grinning as the group gulped. They couldn't think of anything worse.

"Kill me...kill me now..." (y/n) muttered, wishing a lightning bolt would strike her down as Frankini began to dance again, spinning around and around enough to make anyone dizzy despite his bright, white smile.

She meant it, feeling like someone, somewhere, was punishing her for some great misdeed because if the fashion show wasn't enough, watching every other criminal leaving the prison was like a punch to the gut.

Never send a child to do your job, (y/l/n)--I mean, Manchester, she thought to herself, still not used to the change but wondering how they'd get out of this or if she'd live long enough to see outfit seventy-five. She glanced at her doofus, knowing he was thinking the same thing, sending his love through a few small gazes, which was comfort enough.

Their old lives were over; a new one had started, and God, if they weren't exhausted already. It would be an adventure full of peril, tears, and laughter, and who knows how long it would last? The team had a lot of work to do, starting with training a unit fit for battle, but that would keep for another day--another mission.

They didn't know it yet, but it was the beginning of a new family - the family they got to choose. Ray and (y/n) only had to show them the way, and perhaps, they'd find a few changes along the way - their home ever-expanding.

It was all written before them; they just had to keep reading the next chapters...

The future was now. The Danger Force had awakened.

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