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more-cardigan-than-woman · 1 year

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The Babysitter - Day 5 - Midnight / 8

Summary: You ran away and now you're at a club, what could possibly go wrong

Thief!Reader x The Red Hood

4.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, semi public sex acts, chasing, minor primal kink, swearing, alcohol, chocking, slapping, canon typical violence.

AN: This chapter is split into night and day, as it starts at midnight and it was way too long.

Day 4

The metaphorical clock strikes midnight as you approach The Bunker. There is no line, no security, just one singular light hanging above a random steel door. To say this club was underground, well, it would be wrong. Sure, it’s called The Bunker, but that's mostly because the place is run by hench folks and they’re not exactly a creative bunch. You remember when you first asked Harley about it and she just rolled her eyes and sounded surprised that it was still open.

Shimming down the dress that you fished out of your go bag and very carefully changed into in the park restroom, you approach the club. Your eyes wander up and you notice the beam in the sky, he's out tonight. Which must be why everyone's here and not with their bosses causing mayhem.

You knock in sequence on the heavy door, surprised when a familiar face greets you.

"Janice! Bestie! I didn't know you got a job here. I haven’t seen you in so long! What have you been up to? Aside from this sweet side gig? It must be good work? Do they pay well? Do you get to meet heaps of cool people?”

"It's Janelle," Janice says, looking wholly unimpressed to see you, she flips her long dark braid over her shoulder, seeming to type something into her tablet before rolling her eyes at you, "go in."

"We should catch up soon! It's been ages since we hung out!."

"Not long enough." She mutters as you walk past her and walk down the long corridor towards the club.

With every step you hear the music grow louder, the lights grow brighter and you grow closer and closer to the party. "Good luck finding me here, Macho man." You mumble, stepping into the crowd and locating your first mark.

"Where are you going?" Jason thinks as he stares down at the little dot on his map, "there's nothing that side of crime alley, little trouble maker."

Revving his motorcycle he follows the dot, ending up at a random street. "Where are you?" He peers around noting the large apartment buildings above and garbage covering the alley way. "What the fuck?" He grips his phone so hard he can hear the screen crack as your dot vanishes, "she can't just fucking disappear."

Pacing back and forth he tries to think, his brain almost combusting before an idea springs to mind. Lucky for him the idiot answers in a second.

"Hey boss, wassup?"

"Jamie, you know any hangouts near park and renegade?"

"Just the bunker, heard they was having a party tonight."

"The bunker?"

"Yeah, it's the henchman hangout."

"The-"

"Henchman's hangout. Used to go there all the time. But you got me so busy these days while you're out, i-"

"How do I find it?"

"Got a light over the door, big steel one."

"Thanks Jamie, take the night off." He ends the calls before the man can keep talking.

He scans the alley again, noticing the single light hanging from a patio a bit further down. Jason bangs on the door with his fist and when it doesn't open he kicks that fucker down.

"Mr Red Hood sir, I didn't realise.." Janelle says, "Sorry, we don't normally get-"

The Red Hood walks right by the flustered woman, throwing her some money for the door before stalking his way down the hallway.

“What is this song?” you shout to Lark over the thrum of the music.

“No idea.” she smiles at you, “Behind you, Rolex.”

“Good spot,” your eyes flick back to the tall guy behind you, his brown hair flipping around as he attempts to dance, “cover me,” you say to Lark as she turns her back to watch from behind.

“Got you girl. Get us that bag.”

“Wow,” you turn, your hand landing on the man's big (though not as big as Red's) forearm, his cheap plasticky jacket seeming to stick to the palms of your hands, “Sorry,” you stare up at the man his dull hazel eyes not nearly as enchanting as the blue ones you’ve been thinking about all day, “Or not,” you wink as his hand slips down your arm.

“We dancing?” he asks, grabbing your hand to twirl you around and you let out a squeal. “You’re fun.” he pulls you closer “cute too,” you can smell how much he bathed in his cologne before coming out tonight, you can feel the bile creeping up your throat with every second. This closeness only makes you move faster before the stench makes you aspirate or puke.

“Yeah, let's dance.” you take his hand and let him hold it, while your fingers toy with the clasp on his watch. “Spin me again,” you laugh and as he does you flick the watch off his wrist and spin yourself into your dark haired friend.

“Girl, you get it?” Lark catches you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and spins so her back is covering the man's view of you.

“Happy Birthday Larkie, your gift,” you joke, slipping it onto her wrist and laughing when it fits perfectly.

“Best gift ever. Until the next one,” Lark links her arm through yours, winding you both through the crowd as whatever his name was tries to follow you both.

“Drinks?”

“Yes, Des is serving those big fruity cocktails I love, I want at least four and you can tell me more about the Red Hood and why the fuck I haven’t seen you all week.”

You and Lark continue to drink, talk and steal. You almost forget that Reds on his way, that he promised to punish you for being bad, that he’s probably going to slap you again, maybe throw you over his shoulder like the man handling dickhead he is. Maybe he’ll snarl at you, pin you up against the wall and then just take-

“Yo! Your drifting off into the clouds again girlie.” Lark snaps her fingers in front of your face, “Earth calling, wanna come back down to me?”

“Yeah,” you shake your head, “I’m here, just thinking about-”

“Why don’t you go splash your face.” Lark offers, tilting her head towards the bathroom, “Someones watching us.”

“I can’t see anyone, but I trust you. Be back in a sec.” you push your way through the crowd, your eyes searching for any sign of the Red Hood. You don’t see him or anyone really, just a bunch of faceless swaying beings that form the dance floor and the wooden door that leads into the bathroom.

Shoving your way inside you tip your head over the graffiti covered sink and splash some of the water over your face, careful not to get any in your mouth. It’s probably safe, but probably isn't definitely and with Scarecrow out of Arkham anything is possible.

"G'day petal," a deep voice startles as it storms from one of the stalls, "gunna need me boom back,"

"You what?" You lift on your toes and take a step back, planting your feet on the ground.

"I know you took my boomerang, petal."

"For once you're wrong, Boomer."

"Yeah, nah. Ain’t got your little boyfriend to keep me away this time."

"Who?" You push at him and when he doesn't budge you reach behind you, gripping at the gun tucked into your pocket.

"Who says he's my boyfriend?" You lift up as your hand grips the handle.

"Everyone, I talked to."

"Wrong again." You pull the gun out pointing it under his chin, "how does it feel to be so wrong so often, Boomer?"

"Feels pretty nice from here," he grinds his hips into you and you click the trigger, "Petal forgot her bullets," he tuts at you, "silly girl."

"Don't need em," you smirk, reaching the gun back and colliding It with his head, a loud smack echoes in the small room and he's on the floor, "now for my prize," flipping his jacket open you take one of the boomerangs, easily tucking it into your pocket with the rest of your loot.

"What's with the gun?" Lark asks, her eyes shifting to the passed out Boomer on the bathroom floor, “I see, we should go.” she wraps an arm around you and hurries you into the crowd on the dancefloor.

“I wasn’t taking that long,” you shout into her ear.

“No, I came to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“Your guy.”

“My what?”

“The Red Hood.”

“What about him?”

“He’s here.”

Jason's helmet scans the room, instantly spotting you cozied up to some random woman. Eyes turn to him, but he ignores them as he sinks into the shadows of the club.

He watches you for a while, the tiny echo of your voice ringing across the large room. His eyes drift up your legs, stopping at the short hemline of your skirt and the heaviness of your pockets. Jason enjoys seeing you take and take and take from those around you, seemingly gifting this woman with the dark hair with some of your takings. The both of you dance and laugh together, seeming to work together to scam those around you and he can’t help the jealousy of how free you seem to be with her seep into his trigger finger. You’re spinning and free and the way you cling to her, it’s taking all his control not to march over, pick you up and drag you out of here.

You dodge someone before your pretty eyes dart around the room quickly, seeming to pause in Jason's hiding place in the shadows before moving across and then suddenly you're moving, charging off towards the bathroom.

Now is his chance, he thinks, stepping into the light when the whole crowd turns to him and he feels the need to sink back into the darkness. But it’s almost too late, he can see that dark haired woman coming towards him, a look of anger and vengeance on her face. Fuck, had you told her about him? What did you say for her to be acting like this? He moves, circling around the room until there is a dance floor of people between them. Jason was too busy trying to put distance between him and this woman and her cheap leather outfit. He lost track, you went into the bathroom, he thinks, then, where did you go? He looks over the crowd but he can’t see you, can’t even see the other woman, only the crowd and the lights.

He scans for you on his helmet again and you pop up almost immediately, your body moving freely as you dance with the woman in the crowd and he can’t help the step he takes forward. Like his brain has left the building and now something else is creeping its way into his head.

“What is that?” you ask Lark, your neck twitching to the side.

“Umm, Girl.”

“It’s like an itch, but it’s inside my skin.” you reach back trying to scratch it.

“Girl,” she spins you around and you let out a gasp as the Red Hood stomps towards you, the crowd seeming to part for him as he, can a step be angry? Its like his anger is seeping from his fucking suit. It's a very pretty suit, especially with all the bright lights of the club shining off his helmet.

“Love you Larkie, but I-”

“You gotta go.” she squeezes your hand, “take the back door and don't forget to have fun!” she calls to you as you take off, squishing and squirming your way through the dancers. You throw a glance over your shoulder and can see him getting closer as you move towards the back of the club and the back door. Your heart thrums in your chest, pumping in your ears while your feet struggle to stay steading on your heels.

“Stop following me.” you call, but are pretty sure it's lost in the noise of the club. Picking up the pace you kick your heels off, leaving them behind so you can run faster. You dart around the corner near the bathroom and a hand snakes out grabbing your arm.

“Where you off to now Petal?”

“Don’t have time for this Boomer.”

“Make time,” he points his boomerang at your stomach, pulling it back. Fast as you can you wrap your hand around it, flipping yourself backwards and yanking it from his hand. You spin, throwing the object in the direction of the Red Hood and flee as fast as you can. Boomer is so taken aback that he doesn't say a word, just stares, his hand held up for when his weapon will return to him.

A loud thud rings down the hall and you turn back only to see Boomer on the ground again as the Red Hood steps over his body. His hand reaching down for the gun on his leg. Fuck, how is he getting closer? Are you moving slower?

Turning back around you make a fast dash for the door, the heavy clang of the Red Hoods boots ringing in your ears almost as hard as your breaths are coming out. The door! It’s right there, you're a step, maybe two from it when a strong hand wraps around your wrist and you can’t hold the scream of surprise in.

“Thought you’d give more of a fight, little trouble maker.” Reds robot voice growls into your ear.

“Well, I do hate to disappoint,” you stomp down on his foot, forgetting that you're in bare feet and wince when the steel cap of his boots dig into the arch of your foot, “Ow.” you cry, jabbing your elbow into the hard armor on his stomach, “Why is everything always so hard with you?” you wiggle trying to escape his grasp.

“So that little brats can’t beat me up.” he holds you a little tighter, the leather of his gloves biting into your skin. The smell of your sweaty perfume barely registers under his helmet, but fuck if he can’t feel your cute little ass wiggling into his cock. Biting down on his lip he tries to maintain some control, to not just press your smart ass little face into the wall and take you right here. His cock throbs when you try to hit him again, making that sweet whiney noise. Shit, he needs, what does he need- “I wanna watch you run a bit more,” his grip starts to loosen, even though he wants nothing more to hold you so fucking close, “ready?”

“To run from you? Always.”

“Good girl.” he releases you and you take off immediately running for the door, your sweaty hands siding off the handle and you giggle when you spot him watching you, unable to keep the excitement of what the fuck is happening inside you. The words, his words, that he keeps saying that somehow makes your insides melt and your legs feel tingly, “You won’t be laughing when I catch you this time.” he threatens, cracking his knuckles at you. But he hasn’t moved yet, he’s watching you from his perch on the wall.

“Fuck you!” you shout back when you finally get the door open and sprint onto the street. You smile to yourself as you hear the thud of his boots coming from behind you, “Fucking asshole!” you bolt down the alley, the stones on the tarmac digging into your feet, but you can’t stop. Even if you’re having fun, enjoying the thought of him chasing you oh so slowly and what he might possibly do when he catches up to you, “You’re so fucking slow!” you shout, turning around to see the alleyway empty, only the trash drifting down and the graffitied walls closing in on you.

Where did he go? He was right behind you a second ago. You turn towards the other end of the alley and can only see the soft glow of the street lights shining. Shit, where could he have gone? Did he give up? You think smugly, turning back down the alley which will lead to a quicker route home. “Fucking idiot, I told him I was faster.”

“But I’m smarter.” The Red Hood grasps your arm, yanking you into a covered alcove and closing your body into his hard armor. A deep breathe rushes from Jason's chest as you bump into him, he probably pulled your with more force than he needed to, but seeing that fucking smile on your face is worth it.

“Guess you caught me.” you beam up at him. He feels his cock straining against his pants at your closeness. If seeing you in the small dress, stealing from those assholes hadn’t excited him. Then watching your ass giggle and your laughter ring in the air as he chased you certainly did. “So what are you going to do with me, now that you've caught me?” you tease him, your hand reaching up towards his helmet and he catches your wrist in his hand.

“What do you think, trouble maker?”

“What do I think? Now he wants to know. Well, Where do I start? I think you’re mean, I think my feet are fucking sore from running on the bare street, I think I don't even know your fucking name and I think that you didn’t even care to come looking for me.”

“How many times is that now?”

“Times what? Because seriously, youre sending some mixed fucking signals here and I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you or your little brain but as fun as it can be, I need some fucking clarity here Red, because I’m fucking confused.”

“Nine.” Jason adds in his head, using his grip on your wrist to spin you around and press you into the wall, “I told you not to swear at me. It’s about time you got some punishment.” he lifts the skirt of your dress, impressed by how heavy the pockets seem to be he tries to ignore it, “Bad mouth brats, need to learn their place.” he slaps his hand onto your ass gentler than he wants to, his fingers kneading at your soft panties. “8 more to go, trouble maker. And for every noise you make I'm going to add one more.” he slaps you again and you can’t keep the little yip that escapes you. He keeps going “7, I’m sending mixed signals,” he leans over to threaten close to your ear, “6, you ran away from me,” his thumb grazes over your ass, “5, you keep being bad,” his long gloved fingers graze over the wet spot in your panties, “4, but I know you want to be good for me,” he flicks your panties to the side before slapping right over your clit, “3, you like to torture me, don’t you?” You let out a hungry moan, your ass presses back into his hand and Jason can’t help the way his dick throbs. “3 more,” he wraps a hand around your mouth, holding it closed, “I think this is torturing you more than me.”

You mumble into his glove, the leather scent filling your nose, his hand tightens on your face. You can feel yourself dripping down your thigh from all those delicious slaps moving from your ass to your clit and those strong fingers on you and his thighs closing you in.

“1 more little trouble maker. Can you take it?” you nod, sticking your ass out even further and wiggling it for him, “This is a punishment, act like it” he scorns you. You wiggle more, biting down on his fingers, and he moans at the feeling of your teeth gripping his finger, “Better.”

His strong hand slaps on your ass and your scream into his fingers, way too exaggerated but Red seems to love it. His fingers massage into your tender skin, his hand gripping tight on your face, “Quiet,” he commands you as his fingers slide through the sopping mess of your pussy, “Quiet or I will stop.”

“Ah, huh.” you mumble into the glove as his fingers press into you. The leather cold on the inside of your pussy, his helmet cold on the side of your face. But fuck, those fingers, he toys with you. Slowly moving in and out, swirling around inside of you and pumping up into your g spot. You almost lose your mind when his thumb grazes up and starts to circle your clit. Your hips thrusting back into him as you grind down on those thick fingers.

“You’re little cunt is so tight on my fingers,” the red hood pumps into you faster, “you like it like this trouble maker?” he pushes another finger in, while his thumb continues its ministrations on your clit, “I can tell that you do, you’re fucking clinging to me.” his hand moves from your mouth to cup at your breast as his body pushes you closer to the wall, “I wanna hear you cum, trouble maker,”

“Quietly?”

“Yeah, can you do that for me?”

“I- ahhh,” you bite down on your bottom lip, “I’ll try,”

“Good girl.” you fall apart at his words, your hold body shaking into the brick wall, your pussy sucking his fingers deeper and deeper inside you. Your teeth biting so hard into your lip you think you might be bleeding as your panting breaths escape from the corner of your lips. Red keeps a hold of you, his whole body seeming to keep you up while you come apart around him.

“Red, I ah-” you shiver as your body starts to relax again and he pulls his fingers from within you.

Jason spins you back around, pressing your ass into the cool concrete wall by the throat, the chill seeming to soothe the soreness and ache in your muscles, “Hello trouble maker,” he titles that shiny helmet to the side, lifting his fingers up and under the helmet so he can taste you, “How was your day?” he asks so casually that it throws you for a second.

“Really great,” you smile sarcastically into the lit up eyes of the helmet, “No one told me what to do, or threw me around.”

“Or made you cum so hard you shook, sounds boring.” his fingers grip tighter on your throat, his knees pushing your legs further apart. Shit, he’s losing control. Like he can't seem to stop, like that tiny taste of you and watching you fall apart on his fingers cracked a hole in his skull, “I had a boring day too, some dumb brat left me to entertain myself.”

“Poor you.”

“Want to make it up to me?

“Isn’t that what the punishment was?”

“No, because I don't think you learned your lesson yet, trouble maker.” he pulls off his jacket, throwing it on the ground before him, pushing you to your knees. Trying not to be impressed at how quickly you’ve bounced back after he made you cum so hard, “You going to do as you're told?”

“No.” you stare up at him defiantly.

“Do you want me to make you?” his finger twine through your hair, yanking your head back.

“Is this suppose to be intimidating? Because honestly that little kid in the tights is scarier than you.” His other hand slaps across your face and your sensitive pussy tingles in your panties.

“If you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Just hit me in the leg or something,” he says so softly that you’re almost confused by it, but you understand. This game, or whatever weird ass fuck thing you two are doing, he wants reassurance that you’re playing too. “I need you to nod or shake your head, if this is too far-” he pauses, caressing your face,”-I can just take you home and rub some oil into your feet.”

You stare up at his helmet, your hands resting on his thighs as your nails bite into the hard metal covers, your smile maybe a little bit evil, “Fuck you,” you spit at his chest.

“My little trouble maker,” his fingers tighten in your hair as his other hand works fast to pull his cock from his pants, “Open your mouth,” he orders you and your lips open with seemingly a mind of their own, “Good, stick out your tongue,” he bounces his cock on your tongue and you can’t help the way you start to squirm at the taste of him on your tongue, “Sit still.” he thrusts forward pressing his cock further into your mouth, “Close that loud mouth,” you suck at him, your tongue pressing up into the thick vein that runs along the bottom of his cock, “Do a good job and I’ll give you a reward,” this spurs you on, thinking of how good his fingers felt inside you. You eagerly bob your head and your fingers press into his thighs, your tongue swirling around his cock as moans bubble up your throat and vibrate around him, “finally something that mouth is good for,” he releases your hair, his hand moving down to support your neck, “at your own pace, trouble maker,” he moans, trying his best to keep himself still and not fuck down into your throat, “yeah, like that,” his head flings back with the weight of the helmet, “You feel amazing, so hot and wet.”

You make a movement with your hands, your finger traveling from your chin to your head, while you keep on sucking and licking at him, “Off?” he asks a little breathless, you give him the tiniest nod, trying not to lose the grip your lips have on his cock. “Stop for a second,” his hand leaves your neck and his cock falls from your lips and you suck in a harsh breath.

Relaxing back on your thighs you stare up at him in awe, his huge cock hanging between his armored legs. He lifts the helmet off, his hair shiny dark curls fall perfectly over his face, he drops the helmet to the ground, his fingers brush the hairs from your face as his sharp jawline tilts down at you and a red domino mask stares back at you.

“I knew it! Two masks!” you exclaim, a second before he shoves his cock back in your mouth.

“I was such a close trouble maker, why don't you be a good girl and make me feel good and then I’ll think about rewarding you.” you hungrily suck his cock, your pussy fucking soaking the ground beneath you as you bring him closer and closer to finishing. The whites of the domino mask stare at you while his hair clings to his sweaty face. His moans grow rougher and more animalistic as he gets closer and closer. Your teeth scrape along his length and that seems to be the thing that sends him over the edge, his salty, tangy cum paints the inside of your mouth and you swallow it down like bridesmaids drinking prosecco at a bachelorette party. His soft panting fills in your ears as his hands gently brush along your cheek.

His cock falls from your lips as he leans into the wall behind you. His eyes still take you in as he rests his head on the cold concrete, his chest heaving, his breath spot but his hand still on your face. You meet his eyes as you gather some of his cum that fell from your mouth on your fingers and lick at it, moaning around your fingers in the same way he had earlier.

“You did so well for me,” he coos, lightly slipping his forearm under yours and helping you off the ground. He picks up his helmet, “Can you hold this?” he asks in a voice so devoid of the earlier animal it surprises you, “I’m going I take you home and I can look at those feet.”

“My feet? What about my pussy?”

“If you can behave long enough.” he picks you up, sliding an arm under your legs, “Remember when I told you how loud I can make bratty little trouble makers.”

“Not true until you prove it.”

“Then I guess I better prove it,” he winks, capturing your lips in a desperate, hungry kiss, “But only if you’re a good girl, think you can do it?”

“I can only try my best.” you snuggle into his chest, holding the helmet on your tummy as he carries you home.

Day 5 - 7 am

Taglist:

@letmebebatmanpls @hypnobanditprofessorhorse-blog

@nutmeg030 @igotanidea @tild3ath @halbhohehalluzination

@goblinhobo @efam @princessbl0ss0m @bubbles-incorrect-yb

@ilikw @megumisbabymomma @mxtokko @viperbaroness

#red hood x reader #red hood fanfic #reader x red hood #red hood #x reader #reader x jason todd #jason todd x reader

107 notes · View notes

6leafypot9 · 2 years

Text

Hero & Villain Pair Ideas

*Just some pairing ideas for this damn thing cause I’ve been sucked into it by prompts and fics.*

Anti-Hero x Anti-Villain -

They make out on the first meeting, Hero could care less about Villain’s goals and encourages it.

Retired!Hero x Thief!Civilian -

Civilian currently being chased by the people they robbed, they bump into Hero and suddenly, Civilian has a sugar daddy.

Monster!Villain x Police!Civilian x Flirty!Henchman -

Henchman meets Civilian and instantly thought they were hot. Villain wanted to see why his lackey was, well, lacking. Chaos ensues.

Protective!Henchman x Theif!Civilian -

Both of them were trying to rob the same person, Civilian got it first, and the game of cat and mouse started.

Chaotic!Villain x Anti-Villain -

Wanting to achieve a world with no government, Anti-Villain goes to seek help from Villain, they agree, and now the city is covered in glitter.

Exasparated!Vigilante x Dramatic!Villain -

Villain thinks the fights they have with Vigilante are dates, and Vigilante doesn’t have the heart to tell them.

Flirty!Henchman x Perfect!Henchman -

Flirty makes it his daily routine to make Perfect blush and Perfect just wants to get his job over with and not get killed by the big boss.

Superhero x Police!Civilian -

Civilian helped Hero with capturing a robber, Hero falls in love and tries to win Civilians love, the problem is Civilian is too busy to realize that.

Teacher!Civilian x Barista!Civilian -

Just two Civilians somehow caught in the crossfire of the hero and villain society.

Protective!Henchman x Flirty!Henchman -

Protective fell in love with Flirty, not that they’ll admit it, and what’s the point of saying it if they already knew?

*Dunno, just wanted to share my ideas before my brain explodes, might think of more.*

Parts: [here] , 2 , 3

675 notes · View notes

beauleifu · 2 years

Note

could I ask for a mayor x fem reader fluff for a oneshot?

Sure! Roughly 2k word count, hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MAYOR X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: Takes place after Season 3 of LMK, 'cause we never get to see what happened to the Mayor after being captured and shit. You're just a normal person tryna take care of your idiot man <3

TW: Blood cause we cleaning his wounds. Very light mentions tho, and slight language

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

You live a peaceful life.

That being said, there is nothing peaceful about how you're suddenly woken up. The awful crash makes you sit up straight in your bed, staring around with wide eyes. What the hell was that?!

It sounds like it came from the kitchen.

However, that makes no sense, seeing as you live alone and you didn't invite anyone over. No guests, no friends staying the night to escape the chaos of their own lives. It's just you, the city (Megapolis), and your home. Besides, a swift glance at your alarm clock reveals that it's two in the morning, so you conclude that it's a thief who has definitely broken into your house.

No doubt about it.

You're not ready, though!

All your defenses are slipping through your fingers as you hastily - yet quietly - get out of bed, grab your phone, and shuffle towards the door. Heart beating a mile a minute, you crack it open.

The noise definitely came from the kitchen. You hear something again, and this time a cup must've fallen in the sink. A low, muffled curse reaches your ears, and you bite your lip against the panic. If the intruder is in the kitchen, they have access to all the available weapons you own. One wrong move on your part, and you could scare them and incite an unwanted and deadly confrontation.

Should you go back to sleep? Pretend you didn't notice and let the burglar get away with it? It's not like you have any valuables out in the open screaming steal me! I hate it here!

On the other hand, you're not a coward. You live here; it's your responsibility to defend it - and yourself.

Sighing, you stay as quiet as possible and peek into the kitchen. There are no lights to supply you with any view, but turning on your flashlight would only alert the intruder to your presence.

They're literally in the next room over.

Suddenly, you feel like the intruder; creeping up on someone unknowingly. Not a fun feeling.

Crouching by the corner that separates the kitchen from the next room, you watch the person make their way blindly around, swinging open cabinets, tugging drawers open, all in search of something. It's difficult to make out their frame from the shadows, but from their movements it looks like they're limping. You could be wrong, though.

"Damn. . . . Now where did she say the rags were . . ?"

A honeyed, baritone voice reaches your ears, a soft mumble that should've provoked some sort of panic, but you recognize it almost immediately.

The Mayor.

He's here? Is that really him??

Fumbling for your phone, you straighten and turn the flashlight on, beaming it onto the figure in the kitchen. oh, gosh.

Tall, battered, and bleeding - but definitely your Mayor. His attire is torn in some places, the pinstripe suit giving way to a light blue undershirt. His collar is undone and his hunched frame is decorated with cuts and bruises - too many to count, and too many to keep you from worrying.

The Mayor spins around, wobbling as he attempts to right himself, one hand tightly gripping the counter. "Wha- . . . Ah. Did I wake you?"

You stare, open-mouthed. This is probably the weirdest thing you've witness all year. Your idiot, the high-and-mighty henchman to the one and only Lady Bone Demon, has deemed it perfectly fine to be in your kitchen unannounced at 2 a.m., looking like absolute shit, and all he does is ask if he woke you up?

The hell??

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" "You whisper-yell.

There's something in the bone demon's grip; he suddenly holds it up in one bloodied hand for emphasis, revealing white bandages. "I'm assessing my wounds. Do you keep any rags in your kitchen, by chance?"

Holy shit. One hand goes to grip your head while other still maintains a rather shaky grip on your phone. "Uh . . . yeah . . ? Yeah. Gimme a second," you say, clearing your throat. There's no reasoning with this lunatic, however much he's grown on you. Sauntering up to one of the kitchen drawers, you pull it open and take out a random towel and continue; "You don't have to use a rag, y'know. I'm not an expert, but I'm sure it would only make it worse . . ?"

Perhaps it wouldn't, though. Considering how your idiot is a demon and probably heals in unnatural ways.

"Thank you," the Mayor says, half sighing.

Spinning on heel, you wield the towel like a weapon. "Okay. Now tell me what the fuck is going on. Why are you here??"

He simply stares at you with a somewhat strained grin. It's not the one you're used to; peaceful, bright, wide. Sometimes he'd smile softly, and that's what makes the butterflies erupt within you. But this smile is different. It's forced, and you can't understand why the Mayor is still trying to smile despite being in pain.

With a sigh, you shake your head. "All right, forget the questions. Just . . . are you okay?"

The demon blinks slowly at you, eyes white and blank. "Yes."

"Oh. Gotcha. Um, you wanna take care of all . . . this-" You gesture halfheartedly you the Mayor's wounds, then point to the kitchen table; "somewhere more comfortable?"

"That would be preferable."

Okay.

All right.

You can do this. As you mentally harden yourself, the Mayor takes a seat on one of the chairs, unrolling a bit of the bandages in preparation. The numerous cuts on his body is alarming, and your hands tremble slightly as you wet the towel. Without another word, you drop the item on the table and step back, awkwardly shoving your hands into your pockets. The Mayor's smile softens a tad as be begins addressing his wounds, seemingly too focused to offer his usual.

There's no more need for you, apparently.

You can go right back to bed.

But your feet are glued to the floor, anchored by a feeling you've been desperately trying to suppress the second you realized the entity in your kitchen was someone you know and trust.

So now, you just look stupid standing awkwardly in your pajamas.

The Mayor's white eyes glance up at you, curiosity glowing in their depths. You've come to recognize the faint glimmers of emotions your idiot expresses over time, but it wasn't easy at first. The Mayor was a blank slate until you came to know him better.

A fond and knowing smile lights his face. "I assume you wish you assist, my dear?"

Butterflies.

You nod hurriedly, taking a seat beside the Mayor. "I-I'm no expert, but if there's something you can't reach I can totally help."

"That would be lovely," the Mayor hums, shifting to face you and offering you the damp towel. Amusement enters his voice. "Why don't we make a deal? You help me take care of my little dilemma, and I shall answer any questions you may have."

"Did you assume I have questions, or are you just a sucker for storytelling?" You deadpan.

Your friend merely smiles. With a huff, you take the towel and gently take his arm in your hands. Trying to be as methodic as possible, you clear his arm of all the dried blood, grimacing at all the bruises and cuts. Whenever you catch the Mayor flinch the tiniest bit you're apologizing so fast it should be added to the book of world records. However, he always reassures you with a kind smile and a soft voice that pain is inevitable when treating wounds. That you're doing a wonderful job helping him, and he's very thankful you've taken his unexpected and sudden visit so well.

Eyes on the task at hand, you mumble out your question. "So . . . so what fresh hell did you crawl out of before breaking into my kitchen?"

"I had an unfortunate quarrel with an enemy of my mistress," the Mayor answers smoothly, eyes on you instead of his arm. "The Monkey King made an attempt to sway her from her destiny, and it was my mission to deter him."

Interesting.

There's something harsh and full of venom in the way he says Monkey King. You ignore it. "And you lost, didn't you?"

He catches the slight tease in your voice, and his suspicion only increases when you look up with a mischievous grin. The Mayor snorts, casting his gaze to the side, but he's unable to hold back a grudging smile. "Hmm. What makes you think that, my dear?"

"Oh, I dunno," you say, taking the bandages and wrapping his arm. "Maybe because you snuck into my home with your tail between your legs."

"I possess no tail whatsoever."

"You're a demon, so why not? And I was just relating what you did to a scared puppy."

The Mayor lets out a long, thoughtful hum, but perhaps he only did so to make you stop talking. You laugh, grinning stupidly at him as he rests his chin on the back of his hand. As you take his other arm for a proper check-up, his lips curl into a smirk, eyebrows high and eyes half-lidded. Damnit, you know that look very well. "I advise you to choose your next words very carefully, love."

"I'm just saying!" You say, chuckling. With one hand, you brush his unkept hair to the side and out of his eyes. "Old Monkey Man must've rocked you up pretty hard, huh? You look like shit."

He grimaces. "Yeees, I'd much rather have visited in something more presentable, though. My apologies."

You blink. What.

A dangerous entity, slave to an even more powerful bone demon, is apologizing to you - you, of all people. What a sight. Smiling softly, you lock eyes with him and hum. "D'awww, you feel bad for looking like hell on earth in front of me? I'm honored."

"So you are," the Mayor says sneakily, glancing at your fingers in his hair.

Quickly, you drop your hand - only for him to seize it gently and bring it to his lips, where he presses a small kiss to the back of your hand. Your eyes go wide, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Uh.

Damnit.

He's adorable.

"I-Is this how you normally thank people?" You stutter.

His eyes flick up as he lets go of you, a smirk twisting his mouth when he leans back. "You're a special case, sweetheart."

"Huh. Okay. Are you, um . . ." You avert your gaze, hyper-focused on patching a cut on his cheek. There's just one question you're dying to ask, but all the possible answers are dreadfully scary. Clearing your throat, you decide to get it over with. "You wanna stay the night?"

A beat. The Mayor's expression is fond. "Is this how you normally help people?"

"Ha!" Since your hands are already working on his face, you decide to pinch his cheek lightly. The demon's smirk merely widens, a deep, rumbling chuckle sounding from his chest. You snort, trying to maintain any sort of dignity. "Yes or no, idiot."

One of his hands goes to rest over yours on his face. His eyes are glazed over, smile once again relaxed and sappy. "Of course, my lady."

Anyone would say the Mayor looks absolutely lovestruck.

Unfortunately, you don't realize it until you're buried in the coolness of his arms, swathed in blankets on your bed as you listen to his breathing slow. He doesn't require sleep, but is happy to help you to do so, and after you'd finished bandaging him up, he'd finished telling his tale of woe, and you did exactly the things he liked; played with his hair, offered to sleep in your bed, and begged him to disassociate himself with LBD.

Hopefully this time around, he'll listen.

He's a keeper.

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk story #lmk mayor #Mayor x reader #fluff #blood/injury #yes your honor they're in love #oneshot #2 am talks #so much fluff #mayor is a sappy poet who doesnt write poety he just stares at you #like he thinks he's communicated but no #he just comes off as creepy #but we love him #thanks for the ask!#not me staying up til 2am to write this lol

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spiralcass · 5 months

Text

NEW X-MEN: THE ANIMATED SERIES - SEASON 3, EPISODE 6

We open in the middle of the night at Frost International’s corporate HQ. Inside the dark halls, two uniformed and lightly armed guards are patrolling.

MINI MAX: “I’m just saying, I miss how things used to be.”

OUTLAW: “You LIKED dressing like a cyberpunk fascist and having your official job title be, “Henchman”?

MINI MAX: “No! But it beat having to tell people I’m a “Night Watchman”, and we used to get to carry those huge blasters, not non-lethal peashooters. I’ve been here 20 years, I know where all the skeletons are buried, I deserve a blaster!”

OUTLAW, begrudgingly: “I do miss the blasters.”

MINI MAX: “See? And “Henchwoman” was a pretty sexy title.”

OUTLAW: “What have I told you about calling me “sexy”?!”

MINI MAX: “That…you like it like every other woman?”

As Outlaw’s about to get pissed, the two hear something. She says they should go check that out, with Mini Max following her, but hoping it’s something; maybe it’ll prove they need their old weapons back.

The two arrive at the site of the noise, an executive office, but there’s no mess, or any sign of entry. Mini Max tells Outlaw to call this in. It may have just been the wind, but this could be another Mutant they’re dealing with. Outlaw agrees, and is about to call it in, before she sucker punches Mini Max, knocking him out with the butt of her gun.

Unseen from the front, Outlaw uncovers a secret vault in the office, punches in a code, and opens it. She takes out a folder, and shuts the vault.

Outlaw, folder not in hand, rubs her head in confusion, wondering what happened, and freaking out over their unconscious partner. They’re then hit by an electric shock, tazing them and knocking them out.

We see the folder being twirled around in the hand of a blue fingerless glove, as we hear the laughter of what sounds like a prepubescent boy.

Blue boots walk out of the building without setting off any alarms, jet boosters coming out of them, as the thief continues to laugh, flying off into the night

At the Jean Grey School, the school’s Gay/Straight Alliance is meeting. This club includes Mercury, Bling!, Anole, Specter, Pixie, Loa, Indra, Wolf Cub, the younger student Dryad, and two other younger students we haven’t seen before: a blonde boy covered in eyes, and a black boy with glasses.

The meeting is being run by Kitty, who’s dragged Iceman along, thinking it may be good for him, now that he’s embraced what he is, to hear what the kids have to say.

ICEMAN: “And why couldn’t we have just talked about this stuff?”

KITTY: “Cause I’m only here filling in for Karma. I’ve always liked girls…a girl…but I’ve never really vibed with, like, the queers.”

ICEMAN: “I’ve been gay for two minutes, but even I know that sounds bad. How are things going with “a girl” anyway?”

Kitty groans as she sinks into her chair.

KITTY: “Avoiding her. Magneto agreed to keep sending Magik on missions while I figure things out, and, unlike Scott and Emma, she actually listens to him.”

BOBBY: “Can’t dodge her forever.”

KITTY: “I can try!”

Specter, the club president, asks if anyone has something they want to talk about. Dryad knows this isn’t really the point of the club, but she wants to know if Pixie is really from Camelot.

PIXIE: “Sure am!” SPECTER: “And don’t worry. “The point” of the club is just to be a safe place.”

DRYAD: “Oh! Okay! So what’s it like? Are there unicorns? A beautiful queen?”

PIXIE, her cheerful smile not fading at all: “It’s a brutal dictatorship where everyone struggles to survive.”

DRYAD, face falling: “oh.”

Kitty and Bobby, all too familiar with this, share a laugh. As the younger kid with glasses asks with disbelief about Camelot being real, Bobby receives a telepathic message.

EMMA, telepathically: “Robert, a word?”

BOBBY: “In the middle of something. Can it wait?”

EMMA: “Not if you don’t want me to tell my brother about your self-revelation.”

BOBBY: “Oh, that is so not cool.”

EMMA: “Just come along. I require your assistance.”

Bobby sighs, begrudgingly telling her he’ll be right there.

KITTY: “Emma?”

BOBBY: “Yeah. How’d you know?” KITTY: “The faces you were making. They’re the same ones I make whenever I have to deal with her.” She pats him on the back. “Good luck, buddy!”

We cut to MIT, joining a dry physics lecture. Some students are taking notes diligently, while others have passed out. Among the latter group is a red-headed woman. At least until she gets a wakeup call.

MONET, telepathically: “Why are you even here, Theresa?”

Theresa groggily wakes up and sits up straight. She looks behind her and up a few rows, to see Monet doing something in her notebook.

THERESA: “Could ask you the same thing. I’m gettin valuable rest. You’re scribbling.”

MONET: “I am NOT scribbling.” She says this as we see her doodling smiling worms in a basket of apples. “And I don’t NEED to pay attention.”

THERESA, mockingly: “Oh yeah, Monet St. Croix is such a genius she doesn’t even need to study to be perfect.”

MONET, completely serious: “Yes. I’m glad you’ve finally realized this.”

Theresa sighs with annoyance as the class is let out.

Out in the hall, Monet and Theresa walk to their next destinations. Theresa asks if Monet is going to the Alpha Phi party that night.

MONET: “Why would I do that?”

THERESA: “I dunno. Bunch of snobby rich girls. Seems like your kinda people, and I figured the only two Mutants at this school could get some drinks together.”

MONET: “Even if I was going, I wouldn’t bring you. But by all means, try and get in on your own. Drunk bimbos who won’t get anything from this school but a future husband seem like YOUR people.”

THERESA, smiling with frustration: “It really hurts ye to be nice, doesn’t it?”

MONET: “No. I just prefer being honest.”

THERESA: “You must also love being alone then.”

Theresa walks away from an unphased Monet. Something else, however, is able to get a reaction out of her.

MONET: “What?!”

Monet approaches and pulls down a flyer promoting a lecture Roberto is giving at the school that night. The lecture is called: “Me, Myself, and I, featuring Roberto Da Costa: Building An Empire By Yourself”, and there’s a picture of him winking.

Monet, pissed, tears up the flyer.

On a highway in the middle of nowhere, Akihiro tears up the road on his motorcycle, bluetooth device in his ear.

AKIHIRO: “How are things going on your mission, my lady?”

SOFIA, sarcastically: “Awful. I just failed an English test.”

Akihiro laughs. And her friends?

SOFIA, laying on the beach: “Delighted to have me back. Confused that I’m dating your sister.”

We see Laura, uncomfortably happy, getting ice cream for them both at a nearby stand.

AKIHIRO: “You are wicked. If she knew the truth about you, she’d be honored.”

SOFIA, putting on a fake smile and switching to talking like her normal self as Laura brings her her ice cream: “She already is. Good luck with your mission.”

AKIHIRO: “I don’t need luck, my lady. I’ve been preparing for this my entire life.”

The music picks up and we see where he’s heading, as we momentarily cut to Logan drinking alone in a roadside bar.

In the Mission Room, Iceman arrives to find Emma and Cyclops waiting. What was so important? The Horsemen? Sinister? Dark Beast?

ICEMAN: “Oh god, please tell me it wasn’t Dark Beast.”

Scott tells him it, thankfully, isn’t anything too serious; there’s been enough of that lately. Emma fills him in on what’s happening: Over the last two weeks, her company has been robbed three times. Once from the corporate HQ, once from a domestic manufacturing facility, and once from an in-progress international shipment. In a normal month, her security is tight and competent enough to thwart any and all would-be thieves. Not only that, but at all three robberies, Mutant guards were present, and bested, and no sign that a thief was ever there was left behind. They don’t even remember anything.

EMMA: “And the strangest part? They haven’t stolen anything vital. Valuable, yes, but nothing irreplaceable or particularly damaging.”

Bobby gets from all that why she wouldn’t just take this to the cops, but is this really X-Men business? Emma counters that she can’t very well go after the ruffian mocking her with these robberies herself. That’s simply unprofessional. Cyclops volunteered, but she doesn’t want him working alone.

ICEMAN: “Alright, I guess I can help. Sounds like an inside job to me. Probably some disgruntled Mutant employee.”

EMMA: “Not possible. All of my employees are happy and well-compensated.”

ICEMAN: “You literally busted a strike three months ago.”

EMMA: “That is a slanderous description of what happened, and I will not stand for it.” Emma heads for the door. “Now, come along boys. The sooner we catch this annoyance, the sooner we can throw them in a hole.”

Bobby and Scott are left behind as she exits. Scott has a big grin on his face. Bobby is irritated.

SCOTT: “I love her.”

BOBBY: “And you’re why I don’t want a Frost into me.”

In a lecture hall at MIT, 23 year-old Roberto Da Costa is on stage sharing his life story with college students barely younger, or, in some cases, older than him. He’s clearly not taking this seriously, in full schemer mode as he walks around and speaks with a narcissistic swagger, and fluffing details of his past, such as saying he was the leader of the New Mutants, and that he was involved in his father’s business from a young age.

As Roberto goes on a brief tangent, speaking to the reasons he admired his father, and the reasons he needed to cut his own path, Monet enters, her sour sneer present. Roberto notices her almost immediately and quickly wiggles his fingers at her teasingly.

Monet, in a huff, tries to find a place to sit. She’s quietly called out to by a group of well-dressed black students, who mime an offer for her to sit with them, appearing friendly. There’s a mild but brief panic in Monet’s eyes as she turns away from them and finds a place to sit alone.

Roberto continues to speak about how, even among the enlightened minds sitting before him, there’s likely still a common thought: For all that he’s achieved, repeatedly helping to save the world, bringing back Da Costa International, to new heights even, and having hair most men can only dream of, wouldn’t he have been more successful if he wasn’t a Mutant?

ROBERTO: “But the truth is that I wouldn’t be nearly as successful if I wasn’t a Mutant. I may be a one-of-a-kind man, but I’m only the man I am because of my friends, my family, my community…” Roberto makes sure his eyes land on Monet. “My partners.” Monet rolls her eyes. “I am a Mutant and proud of it. And for any of you who are different or discriminated against in some way…” The screen behind Roberto displays footage of him at an outrageous and luxurious yacht party. “Make it your strength, and you can be as awesome as me!” The crowd applauds. Roberto whispers, “Well, almost as awesome.”

A short time later, as Roberto is taking off his makeup backstage, Monet approaches him from behind, and before he can get out two smarmy words, she tosses him against a wall.

MONET: “What the Hell are you doing here, Da Costa?”

In the bar, Logan asks the bartender if he has the time. The bartender asks him in turn if his phone is dead.

LOGAN: “Phone got eaten by the giants I was fighting before coming here.”

The bartender looks at him strangely, unsure if he’s making a joke.

On the street, we see a motorcycle racing down the road toward the bar.

Logan laughs, with the bartender awkwardly laughing with him.

LOGAN: “Yeah, I can never remember to keep that thing charged.”

BARTENDER: “Heh, I feel that.”

The motorcycle comes even closer.

BARTENDER: “You got anyone who can remind you? My wife’s always reminded me.”

LOGAN: “I look like the kinda guy with a wife?”

BARTENDER: “Don’t sell yourself short, guy.” Logan glares at him. “Err, sorry, I didn’t mean, um…”

The motorcycle has almost arrived.

LOGAN: “Don’t worry about it. Can I get a menu?”

BARTENDER: “Uhh, sure. Suddenly get hungry?”

LOGAN: “Something like that.”

The motorcycle parks out in front of the bar. Black boots step onto the ground.

LOGAN, looking at the menu: “Huh. Haven’t had python in a few decades.”

The door to the bar is opened and a bell rings, as sinister music plays…only for the music to turn triumphant as we pan up the person who’s just arrived. It isn’t Death; it’s Storm.

The bartender’s jaw drops at the sight of her, as he mumbles in confusion over what “a goddess like that” is doing here.

Storm comes right over to Logan, both happy to see one another, as she greets him and apologizes for being late. Logan reminds her he likes being alone.

STORM: “Please, Logan. None of us have believed that in years.”

She then kisses him on the lips before sitting down.

LOGAN, holding Ororo’s hand, the bartender frozen in shock: “Think we could get another menu?”

Jaw still on the floor, the bartender ever so slightly nods.

We cut to a port, where Cyclops and Iceman are on a Frost International freighter, with Scott explaining his plan to catch the thief. The thief has specifically been targeting specific locations at specific locations where Mutant guards were posted. Tonight, Emma has taken all her employed Mutant security off the schedule and put the two of them on it. Additionally, she’s anonymously leaked to New York’s criminal underworld what valuables are hidden on this shipment.

CYCLOPS, eating yogurt with a smile on his face: “From what we know about the thief, they won’t be able to resist the chance to show up two X-Men and steal them. And even if we aren’t prepared for their abilities, Emma’s just a mile away. Far enough to not be on the thief’s radar, but close enough to get a psychic lock on them.”

ICEMAN, casually using his powers to make an ice conveyor belt to help the deckhands move heavy cargo around: “Not a bad plan. You know you’ve been smiling a lot lately, right?”

CYCLOPS, yogurt in his mouth: “So?”

ICEMAN: “So, now that you’ve actually learned how to chill, the next time we get into some time travel nonsense and probably meet you and Emma’s daughter from a post-apocalyptic future, I want you to go tell your teen self to not ride my ass so much.”

CYCLOPS: “I dunno. I think you turned out pretty okay.”

ICEMAN, dusting off his hands as he finishes helping the crewmen: “I spent a year couch surfing and my entire life burying my trauma in denial of my real identity.”

CYCLOPS: “Yeah. So you’ve done about as well as the rest of us.”

ICEMAN, with a pained smile: “Jean’s gone and Warren’s dead. Only three of “us” left.”

Scott’s smile fades and he apologizes for them not really having talked about this or having found time to mourn. The two of them should call Hank and do something.

SCOTT: “Maybe Ororo even put in a good word so he won’t hate me.”

Bobby quietly laughs. Maybe.

Scott asks if there’s something else on his mind. Bobby opens his mouth to answer but chooses to just tell Scott it’s nothing. He’s just been thinking about some stuff is all. Scott knows not to push and accepts this.

A mile away in a restaurant, however, Emma taps her finger against her chin, listening in to their conversation and clearly wanting him to talk.

Back at MIT, Monet and Roberto walk through the halls of the building where Roberto was giving his speech, Roberto winking and blowing kisses at all the girls they pass by who are clearly into him.

Monet tells him she let him finish cleaning up like he requested. Now he needs to tell her why he’s here.

MONET, telepathically: “Aren’t our communications meant to be secret?”

BETO: “It would be a lot easier to keep them that way if your telepathy was strong enough for long distance.”

MONET: “YOU do not get to talk to me about power.”

Roberto faux-innocently raises his hands. He tells her he’s here because they need to discuss further investments. Da Costa International has grown fast - too fast. Without a massive influx of capital soon, it’s all going to fall apart.

ROBERTO: “Call me naive for not planning ahead for this, but it’s not as if I’ve done this before.”

He doesn’t expect another investment from Monet though. He just wants her to help him find new investors. Preferably ones with “certain ties” to their community.

MONET: “I thought that part of your plan was a poor joke.”

ROBERTO: “We’re preparing for desperate times. That means desperate measures.”

Monet sighs. She’ll see what she can do. Is that all?

Roberto cheerfully steps in front of Monet and tells her there’s actually one more thing they need to discuss.

MONET: “And what is that?”

ROBERTO, smirking flirtatiously: “Where I’m taking you for dinner tonight.”

Monet is surprised for a second, before smirking flirtatiously back at him. Roberto starts listing off possibilities, with Monet only chiming in to agree with how great each option sounds…only Roberto snaps back to reality to see he’s talking to himself, with people staring at him like he’s crazy.

ROBERTO, awkwardly scratching the back of his head: ‘Ha ha. I’m just…um…practicing method acting?”

Outside, Monet walks away from the building, smirking to herself.

MONET: “How is that for weak telepathy? Ha ha. Good one, Monet.”

At the bar, Logan and Ororo are sharing beers. Ororo has spent the last few weeks in England with Betsy, Rachel, and their family, wanting to look after Betsy in light of the years she and Warren had been together. Betsy insisted she was fine after the first couple days, but Storm stayed anyway. The others ended up dropping by too: Kurt, Pitor, Hank, Rogue and Remy. Lots of drinking, lots of stories, lots of laughs and tears. There was even a half-serious betting pool on how long it would take for Warren to come back. It was nice. Logan should have joined them.

Logan admits that does sound pretty good, but he’s been working. Slim’s been having him work on trying to track down the monsters responsible for this. He’s got Madrox and his team working on this too, but so far they haven’t gotten anywhere.

Logan also admits that he can’t help but wonder how things would be if the two of them had been runnings things like old times. From the start. Genosha and the Morlocks could maybe have been saved, the Horseman could have already been stopped…he still trusts Cyclops, against his better judgment, but…

ORORO: “But there is a reason I once ousted him.”

Logan nods and drinks. Plus, he’s done a good job with Laura, but things outside her control have messed her up more than ever. He should be there for her. Ororo doesn’t think he needs to worry there, for now at least. Kitty has been sending her pictures and giving her updates as always, and she seems very happy with her new girlfriend.

LOGAN: *Growls in protective dad* “Something about this whole Wind Dancer story doesn’t smell right.”

ORORO: “Her story is no more strange, nor a miracle, than my own. The truth will be revealed in time. For now, be happy for Laura. Sofia is a good girl - an X-Man. And she’s wanted this for a long time.”

Logan just growls again. Ororo, giggling, wraps her hand around Logan. Logan puts his beer down and takes her hand in his.

LOGAN: “You’ve been taking care of everyone else, like always. You remembering to take care of yourself?”

Ororo nods. As we see flashes of their dead bodies, Ororo speaks about how she cannot sleep without seeing the Morlocks. She was the leader of the most vulnerable Mutants, the ones most in need of protection, and she failed them. Not even by those who hate and fear mutants, but by the cruelest among them, who they are right to fear.

STORM: “Were the storms still mine to command, I would find Exodus myself and make him suffer a thousand fold for each and every death.”

LOGAN: “As if you need your powers to kick that bub’s ass.” Ororo dons a flattered smile as Logan looks as her lovingly. “You can take him, Magneto’s gonna want Pestillence, and I’ll take the head of whoever’s running this sick show now.”

Logan spins around, stands up, and catches a knife that was about to go through his head. Ororo also leaps to her feet, drawing her new weapons, Callisto’s knives, as the scared bartender hides behind the bar.

Akihiro, dressed like the other bar patrons, with a cowboy hat concealing his eyes, stands up from the table he’s been sitting at in the background this whole time.

AKIHIRO: “That…is something I will never allow to happen.”

Akihiro dramatically tosses his cowboy hat aside as he turns blue.

LOGAN, sneering: “Unless Apocalypse recruited more than one Japanese man with a bad haircut, I’m guessing you’re Death.”

AKIHIRO, grinning: “If you know that about me, then you know who else I am.”

LOGAN: “I know you say you’re my kid.” Logan drops the knife and pulls out his claws. “And I don’t care.”

AKIHIRO: “I wouldn’t have expected anything else.”

Akihiro pulls out his own claws as the two men stare each other down. This goes on until they, plus Ororo, rush toward each other.

At night on the freighter, Scott is eating dinner with the deckhands. They’d like to hear some X-Men stories, or maybe some embarrassing things about Ms. Frost, but he’s only interested in eagerly talking their ears off about the connections between the histories of nautical and aeronautical development.

DECKHAND #1, whispering as Scott rambles: “I’m so bored.”

DECKHAND #2: “We all are, but I’m not gonna be the idiot to disrespect the boss’s man. Just smile and nod.”

Outside, Iceman stands on a pillar of ice on the ocean.

EMMA, telepathically: “Robert?”

BOBBY, annoyed: “In the middle of keeping an eye out for YOUR thief.”

EMMA, seated in a theater: “Then I’ll keep this brief. What’s troubling you?”

Bobby, over-aggressively, insists there’s nothing wrong with him, but Emma reminds him of the obvious that he shouldn’t be lying to a telepath. Ever since his battle with Exodus, being around his mind has put butterflies in her stomach.

Bobby aggressively brings up that “maybe” it has something to do with his best friend and the Morlocks being killed, but Emma counters that they’ve *all* been dealing with those losses; this is something else. Iceman mutters in frustration that he knows she won’t let this go. He explains he’s been thinking about his new identity, even reading about it.

EMMA: “You? Reading?”

BOBBY: “I did go to college, Emma.”

EMMA: “So do liberal arts majors. Continue.”

Iceman brings up how he was just at the school’s SGA, but, like, why do they need one of those? Why does a school dedicated to protecting a minority need a “safe space” for its minority members? Why don’t they feel safe with everyone else?

ICEMAN: “We’re all Mutants. We should all share the same fights. But we don’t.”

Emma acknowledges she’s no expert in this regard either, and only went along with the club’s formation because Karma and Northstar wanted to start it, but if he wants to do more research and suggest changes they can implement to make their queer students feel more safe, the headmasters would of course be happy to listen to him. Bobby thanks her, but doesn’t seem too pleased with that response. He doesn’t think that’s enough.

Before the conversation continues, Iceman is called out to by a gravely voice.

Iceman turns around and sees a big, bald, stereotypical tough guy having flown up to him on jet boots. He smirks confidently.

ICEMAN: “Emma, I think I’ve got our thief.”

EMMA: “I see him, but I can’t get in his mind. I also can’t imagine my security being bested so easily by this neanderthal. Watch yourself.”

Bobby laughs that off. He beat Exodus, and he’s been asking Erik to spar with him. This guy’s gonna regret approaching him like this.

We cut back to the inside of the ship, where the deckhands all laugh at a dad pun from Scott. One of the deckhands from before says to his friend that they deserve extra pay for keeping this guy happy, before he, Cyclops, and the others, are all frozen. Once again, we hear pre-pubescent laughter.

Shortly later, Iceman wakes up on the floor, seeing the others having been frozen, and confused by what happened.

EMMA, standing up and heading out of the theater, frustrated: “You lost, Robert. And I don’t have the faintest idea how…but I will.”

On the quad at MIT at sunset, Monet quickly paces as she speaks on the phone, agreeing to certain things and telling the person she’s speaking to “No” about other matters. Monet eventually smiles as she tells the person she’s speaking to that that should cover everything; she looks forward to working with them.

As she smugly hangs up, Theresa comes racing up to her from behind, calling out her name, and asking her to wait up.

MONET: “You can fly, Siryn.”

THERESA: “Yes, but I try not to here. What are you in such a rush for? Not like you have anywhere to be.”

MONET: “I’m Monet St. Croix. I don’t do anything slow. What do you want?”

Theresa asks Monet if she’s going to the party. Monet asks her if she hit her head or if there just isn’t much in it; they already had this conversation.

THERESA, ready to rip Monet’s head off if she could: “Not the Alpha Phi party. Sunspot’s party!”

Monet’s eye twitches.

MONET: “His what?”

Theresa explains that Beto booked out a trendy new club near campus and all the students are invited. He had her send out a blast on the school’s socials, but she knows Monet isn’t on any of those. He’s plugging it as a mixer where soon-to-be-grads can speak to him directly about job opportunities.

Monet is more than a little peeved by him pulling a stunt like this when they’re supposedly in need of money but hides her contempt behind a stoic facade. She has two questions for Theresa: Why is she helping Beto, and why is she talking to her?

SIRYN: “Don’t you know? Sunspot and I go way back. X-Force back. And I’m talking to you…” Siryn leans forward and whispers into M’s here. “Because he wants his partner helping him spot potential.”

Monet’s eyes widen as Theresa steps back, smirking.

MONET, mouth slightly opened, telepathically: “You work for him.”

THERESA: “Technically, I work for both of you. Now come on! Let’s go get changed. Maybe you’ll be forced to make a friend.”

Theresa walks off. Monet seems angry, but once Theresa is out of sight, her expression turns somber.

At the bar, as the bartender and a few patrons cower in fear, Logan and Storm fight Death. Unlike Laura, both X-Men are more than capable of keeping up with the Horseman, the two fighting in perfect unison, Logan blocking all of Akihiro’s strikes, even if that means using his body as a shield so that Storm can slash him with her knives and, eventually, kick him back into a table.

Akihiro laughs. Guess he can’t play around with his food too much this time. He retracts his claws and coughs the Muramasa blade up, the sword flying out of his mouth as he catches the handle in his hand. As he does this, both his and Logan’s wounds heal. Logan flinches at the sight of Death’s healing factor.

AKIHIRO: “Ready to believe me…Father?”

With Logan uncertain of what’s going on, Storm makes the next move before Death can. Faced off against his large blade with only knives, Storm moves with the grace of a dancer as she parries and dodges, seeking an opening.

AKIHIRO: “Lady Akabba would be more than happy to return your weapon if you’d only kneel before her.”

STORM: “I kneel to no one.”

Storm manages to stab Akihiro in the heart. Logan jumps back in by feinting a punch, before kicking up a barstool and smacking Akihiro across the face with it. While Aki is hurt and falls over, he is able to slash Logan across the chest in retaliation.

Logan bends over from the pain as blood gushes out. Aki snickers.

AKIHIRO: “My sword, Muramasa, is no ordinary blade. If I so will it, it can kill anything. Even your Mutation cannot save you from it.” Storm comes to Logan’s side to check on him, as it becomes clear their current strategy isn’t getting them anywhere. “You know I get Sister not being interested in me. But do you really not care?” He sneers. “I suppose you care as little about me as you did about Itsu.”

The mention of that name appears to hurt Logan more than the gaping wound in him. Storm is just confused. Who is Itsu?

AKIHIRO: “Of course he wouldn’t mention her.” Aki stabs Muramasa in the floor and leans on it. “Maybe after you hear my story, goddess, you’ll realize you’re not standing among heroes.”

Logan and Storm brace for whatever he’s about to say.

In Emma’s car, she, Scott, and Bobby sit together in the back, embarrassed over their humiliating failure. Scott is being forced to sit away from the others because he’s still getting warmed up after being put on ice, and he’s sneezing frequently; Emma loves him, but not enough to tolerate sitting next to that.

All three X-Men are confused. Bobby has no memory of what happened, all Scott saw was Iceman freezing him, and for Emma, one second she was clearly in Bobby’s mind, the next it was all fuzzy.

ICEMAN: “I’m not saying I WANT a Horseman behind this, but it’d make it a lot less embarrassing than some two-bit thief.”

Emma thinks that while they shouldn’t be assuming anything like that, they were clearly overconfident. They won’t fall prey to that trap again.

EMMA: “Which I why the next move is to make ourselves the predators.”

She wasn’t able to get a mental lock on the thief they encountered, or see into their mind, initially, but she was able to once Iceman attacked Cyclops, and that was just a powerless human. While that may scream possession, if this was someone with abilities similar to Malice, but without the restriction of needing to be accepted in, the thief could have gone straight for her.

To dig further, she’s, as gently as possible, cut his mind open with a scalpel to look for any mental residue of what was done to him. And it wasn’t much, but she got something. Just the slightest taste of the mind behind all of this. And from that, although she can’t pinpoint the exact person, she has their location Right now, they’re seemingly back home at a cheap apartment complex in Astoria.

EMMA: “No doubt yucking it up at our expense while trying to find a buyer.”

And only one person there has psychic defenses. So, that’s where they’re going now.

SCOTT, sneezing: “If they’re just poor and desperate, maybe there’s a better way to handle this than a fight. You said yourself they’ve been deliberately stealing non-critical targets, and they’re probably a Mutant.”

EMMA: “It’s about the disrespect. This thief has a bone to pick with me, and I intend to find out why, and punish them appropriately. In any case, in your condition, I wasn’t going to ask you to work anyway.”

BOBBY: “No, you save that for the unions.”

EMMA, more offended than she lets on: “Listen you.”

Bobby laughs and tells them both not to worry. Get him to the apartment, point him to whoever’s got defenses, and he’ll decide if this is a mess to be cleaned up or if there’s a bad guy to beat. Emma and Scott both conceed this is fine.

We cut to a club in Cambridge, where a loud party is raging with hundreds of attendees. Roberto is DJing, wearing exceptionally douchy sunglasses indoors, with multiple girls hanging off him.

Monet and Theresa enter, both dressed to party, but while Theresa is excited by the turnout, and ready to have some fun since her work here is done, Monet is immediately uncomfortable. She moves forward slowly and hesitantly, with small steps and her arms held close to her body, as the lights, music, and people all bother her, something her face struggles to hide.

Monet, struggling to find a place on the dance floor where she isn’t being bumped into, just flies over to a wall.

MONET, telepathically: “I am never helping you again.”

ROBERTO, telepathically: “What? Don’t like the party? Or is this about Siryn? It’s not like I planted her. She just happened to be where I needed her.”

MONET: “Do not play. Why are you messing with me?”

ROBERTO: “I’m not messing with you. But I do like playing.”

We cut to Roberto, making out with one of the girls from before.

ROBERTO: “Hate me all you want, but don’t punish the baby. Now help me find candidates. I’m very busy with a particularly promising one as is.”

Monet rolls her eyes and forces herself back into the crowd with the riff raff. Roberto meanwhile asks the girl he’s making out with for her name.

With flashback visuals shown, Akihiro tells Storm and Logan his story. As a baby, he was left on the doorstep of a kind couple, one who couldn’t have kids of their own, in a small village in Japan. Growing up, he didn’t know who his parents were, his adoptive parents were the only ones he needed, but he did curse whichever one of them was a foreigner. The clear mixed nature of his birth made him an outcast, disregarded by the adults, and tormented constantly by his peers.

AKIHIRO: “Daken, they’d call me.”

He was insulted. He was beaten. His only comfort was that his parents loved him. But he didn’t even truly have that.

AKIHIRO: “I have more weapons than just those I inherited from you, Father.” Logan and Storm gasp as they turn their claws and knives on each other, slightly cutting each other’s necks. “Pheremones. They can make you do crazy things. They make you putty in my hand. And no mental defenses can help you.”

Unfortunately, as a child, he didn’t have control over this power. And, as he overheard one night, his father had put together that he and his mother only loved him when he was around.

AKIHIRO: “I believe I handled the situation from there well. I killed my father, was banished from the village that hated me so, and when my mother chased after me to assure me she loved me, I killed her too. Not too poor emotional maturity for a nine year old.”

Logan and Storm try to open their mouths to say something, but all they can do under Akihiro’s pheremones is grit their teeth, pant, and wait.

Aki explains that he wandered for a bit after that. He’d found his claws when he killed his mother, and it didn’t take too much longer to figure out the pheremones, at least the basics, and with him being the unacceptable mongrel he was, it only made sense to use these weapons to keep killing. He took assasination work where he could find it, training on his own to better use his weapons, and at age 12, he was recruited by The Hand.

AKIHIRO: “That didn’t last too long though. After only a few months, I was “Purchased”. By a man named Romulus.”

Logan tries to scream, but he still can’t open his mouth. Akihiro laughs. Yes, they do know each other, don’t they?

AKIHIRO: “Ogun too, right? He wasn’t around all that often, but he did help Romulus forge this…soulful blade.”

Logan is able to start shaking his body just a little in rage.

Romulus…was a bastard. He never knew much about him, other than he was powerful enough that the world’s deadliest assassins feared his name, and he rarely spoke to him. Romulus spoke to HIM plenty though. Reminding him what a monster he was as he trained him day and night. Akihiro had thought he’d become strong, even among the Hand, he’d trained and worked alongside elites, but Romulus put him in his place. He beat him, not fought him, and when he got up, Romulus would beat him back down.

AKIHIRO: “An endless, vicious cycle of suffering. One I was welcome to leave at any time. But one thing drove me to stay: the truth. The truth that you, Father, had killed my mother and abandoned me.”

LOGAN: “That’s not!--”

Is all Logan is able to get out against the effects of the pheremones. Akihiro tells him to spare him; he won’t fall for his lies. Not when he has another, far wiser, source.

We cut to a spacious, two-bedroom apartment. It isn’t a great place, but it’s been refurbished, and has clearly been decorated by a kid, with big, bright colors, video game and anime merch all over the place, and a big sound system. There’s also assorted, partially-dismantled weapons and tech all over the place.

The sound of a first person shooter being played is heard as we pan across the apartment. Finally, we see the thief, an average sized, brown-haired 14 year-old, seated on the couch playing video games in an oversized Dazzler nightshirt, eating chips. Notably for comic fans, they DON’T look like anyone from the comics. They call out for “Morgan” to come back them up. They’re getting killed out here!

“You have been antagonizing a former supervillain, so you really should be prepared for that.”

“Huh?!”

Condensation on the thief’s mountain dew bottle leaps off the surface and forms into Iceman, who immediately freezes them up to their head.

ICEMAN: “Soooo, you’re a kid. I lost to a kid. Surge and Hellion are gonna love that one. How about you cut me a break and make this easy by telling me what’s going on.”

The thief’s face cycles through various expressions of fear and excitement, until they sneer.

THIEF: “Dude…I think you just broke my stuff..”

In a flash, the thief and Bobby switch places. Bobby, in his human form, is trapped in a block of ice and put in a daze. The thief meanwhile stands where Iceman was just a moment ago, now in their own ice form.

THIEF: “Oh, this is SO cool! Pun DEFINITELY intended!”

The thief hums that if Iceman is here, then Cyclops and Emma Frost are probably close by too.

THIEF: “I should go say hi.” The thief enthusiastically conjures some snowballs and pelts Bobby in the face with them. “After I have some fun.”

The thief heads out the window, thinking they should go show these powers to Morgan and let him know they’re okay, since that jerk broke their phone and headset.

THIEF: “What kinda superhero doesn’t respect someone’s personal property?”

They make an icebridge in midair, having fun riding it around like a slip and slide as they build more and more of it. They make a note to themselves that this would make a great VR game.

The fun doesn’t last too long, however, as they’re blasted out of the sky by Cyclops’ optic beams, falling and being caught by Emma, via telekinesis. They’re dragged over through the air to Emma and a wrapped up Scott, panicking that “I’m not ready yet!”.

EMMA: “No.”

Sensing that the kid is about to use their powers again, now right in front of them, Emma is able to hit their mind with a blunt force she doesn’t usually like using to stop them from using their powers.

THIEF: “Ugggh. I don’t feel so good.”

Emma tells the thief she doesn’t like hurting children, but this one clearly sees her as an enemy.

EMMA: “You have been an irritating thorn in my side for long enough, but that ends tonight. I do not care if your parent is a disgruntled former employee of mine, if you're Shaw’s method of exacting mild revenge, or if you’re just a thrillseeker who wrongfully believed I made an easy target. I just want to know who you are before I decide what consequences await you.”

The thief’s face is filled with terror, but only for a moment, before the brightest smile and widest eyes take its place.

THIEF: “I…am your biggest fan.”

SCOTT & EMMA: “HUH?!”

Back at the party, Roberto has taken to the dance floor and is showing off to the students, moving with the grace of a ballerina. Some of the kids are into it and the kind of “cool boss” they want, while others find him cringe and are just playing along.

As he gets off the dance floor, he’s approached by Theresa who asks him where that came from.

ROBERTO: “Three years of Ms. Hunter’s ballet classes paid off.”

THERESA: “Who?”

ROBERTO: “Before your time.”

The two grunt twice, puffing out their chests, make X’s with their arms and shout, “X-FORCE!”

The two laugh over their old chant.

THERESA: “Why DID Cable have us doing that? And where even is the old guy these days?”

ROBERTO: ‘Both very good questions that I do not have answers to.”

As Roberto grabs a drink, he thanks Theresa for her help tonight. Theresa tells him not to mention it. If it were anyone else, she’d feel a little bad about messing with someone like this, but also…it’s Monet.

THERESA: “What’s all this about anyway?”

Roberto just flashes a smile. Theresa, annoyed, just nods and accepts that one.

THERESA: “I’m taking your word for it that you’re still one of the good guys. Please don’t let me down.”

ROBERTO, taking her hands: “Theresa Cassaday, I promise that I am just as much a hero as ever.”

Theresa seems won over, saying she knows. Now, why doesn’t he try teaching her to dance like him?

ROBERTO: “Sure thing. But don’t blame me if you end up looking more like Sam.”

We flashback to the past for the conclusion to Akihiro’s story, where an 18 year-old Aki is sparring Romulus, on the bookfoot, but after six years of training, managing to hold his own against the ancient master. At least until Romulus runs him through with a sword and breaks his neck.

ROMULUS: “Tt. Look at you. All that passion. All that natural potential. And still…just…Daken.”

Akihiro snaps his neck back into place and demands that he not be called that. Romulus responds by questioning why he’d prefer the name given to him by parents who hated him. Daken is who he is. Daken is what he is.

ROMULUS: “But perhaps that’s why you’re still not ready to face Logan.”

Akihiro gets up, claws out, and moves in to strike Romulus. Romulus is prepared to counter, when a wave of energy crashes through the house they’re in, annhilating Romulus, while avoiding Akihiro.

Akihiro stands stunned in silence at the death of the only man he’s known for a third of his life. Through the smoke, enters Apocalypse. Aki stands ready to fight, but he’s also smart enough to still be clearly afraid of the guy who just did THAT.

AKIHIRO: “Who are you? Why did you kill my master?!”

Apocalypse says nothing as he slowly marches toward him. Aki tries using his pheremones, but they have no effect on the modified External. Eventually, Apocalypse reaches him.

APOCALYPSE: “Because, son of Wolverine, you deserve better.”

Akihiro is confused as Apocalypse puts a hand on his shoulder. Apocalypse tells him who he is, and what he seeks. He then tells him that there are more Mutants walking the Earth today than there have been in thousands of years. It should be the duty of the few elders to properly nurture and educate the strong among the youthful masses. And yet, be it pacifist fools like Charles Xavier, or thuggish brutes like Romulus, each and every one is a failure.

APOCALYPSE: “You seek strength. You require guidance. In exchange for your loyalty, I can grant you both. When we are done, you will have the power to end your father’s life. And the world will be ours.”

A nervous Akihiro tells Apocalypse he has no idea what he’s talking about, but strong as he is, Romulus was right about him. Everyone in his life has been right. Apocalypse should look elsewhere.

Apocalypse laughs. He still values the opinions of humans? Of the dead? He still stands, he still lives, he is strong. Apocalypse does not make mistakes.

APOCALYPSE: “You are not Daken. But you can be something new.”

AKIHIRO: “And what’s that?”

APOCALYPSE, grinning: “What you are the best at.”

After another moment of trepidation, Akihiro smirks and shakes Apocalypse’s hand.

In the present, Akihiro somberly laments his life. Abandoned, betrayed, sold, tortured. Only to finally be given a home. A place where he was safe, and happy, and made stronger than ever. They may not recognize him as family anymore than Logan, but in all the ways that matter, he finally had a true father. And a true sister.

Akihiro cackles, perking back up to his normal self. He just LOVES the shock and pain in Logan’s eyes right now, as if he’s even capable of guilt. Or maybe he is! Still far, far too late.

AKIHIRO: “The only thing I still want to know is why. Why did you kill my mother?”

LOGAN, his jaw free to speak: “I’m sorry.” Akihiro scoffs. “No, not for killing her. Because I can tell you wouldn’t believe me if I told you I didn’t.”

Akihiro growls and rushes to decapitate Logan with Muramasa, the blade shining, but he’s shocked as Logan catches the blade in his claws.

AKIHIRO: “What?!”

LOGAN: “Every cell in our bodies can regenerate. I’m guessing neither of the bubs who raised you taught you to do it on command. And they’re regenerating faster than the pheremones can reach them.”

Logan sends Akihiro flying with a right-hook. WIth him knocked to the floor and distracted, Storm is able to regain control of herself as well.

STORM, impressed: “When did YOU learn how to do that?”

LOGAN: “I’ll introduce you to the guy that taught me if you can put up with lots of bad jokes.”

The two don’t have any longer to talk, as one of the bar patrons runs up to them as is nearly killed by their claws and knives. The two are able to avoid him, but the bartender and all the other patrons have stood up, and are ready to try the same thing.

Akihiro, controlling them all, says this isn’t over yet.

Back in New York, a confused Emma asks the thief to elaborate.

The thief laughs nervously. They can't believe this is really happening. Just one sec!

In another flash, Bobby appears in front of Scott and Emma, the thief gone. He's disoriented and a little woozy.

A moment later, the thief comes flying out of the apartment on jet boots, landing in front of the three X-Men.

THIEF: “Okay, so, my name is Escapade. Aaand, I have looked up to you for so long. I'm a Mutant, obviously, but I'm also a thief. A pretty dang good one for a kid, I'd say. And I thought, since you used to be a supervillain, and I'm kinda a supervillain, I could impress you by stealing from you. You know, showing that I'm better than everyone you employ…and two of the coolest X-Men, apparently! Like, I totally owned them both!” Escapade cringes. “Did it work?”

Emma takes a moment to respond as she sneers.

EMMA: “Leaving aside the numerous questions we still have, while I can commend your taste, your actions reek of arrogance, desperation, and a lack of foresight. I'm afraid, young man, that I still have no choice but to–”

ESCAPADE: “Young lady.”

EMMA: “Hmm?”

ESCAPADE: “You said “young man.” My real name is Shela Sexton. I'm a girl.”

The gears turn in Emma’s mind and her eyes light up, as a grin spreads across her face.

EMMA, with a complete change in tone: “Well, I suppose I can hardly fault an ambitious young woman for being a little rash, especially one with the talent you've shown.”

BOBBY: “Is she serious right now?”

SCOTT, smiling knowingly: “Oh yeah.”

SHELA: “ohmygodEmmaFrostcalledmetalented.”

EMMA: “Very. Now, why don't we take this conversation somewhere a bit nicer so we can learn all about you and your abilities, Escapade?”

SHELA: “Yes! Yes, of course!”

BOBBY: “I don't get it. Does she hate men that much, or does she just really support women?”

SCOTT, holding back laughter: “Keep guessing.”

Emma reaches out a hand to Shela. Shela, excited but nervous, takes it, as they all get into Emma’s car.

Back at the party, Monet takes in everyone laughing and drinking and having fun, and anxiously tries to decide who she should approach - and how.

Monet turns around and finds one of the young men who’d tried getting her to sit with his friends earlier in the day. He tells her she isn’t an easy person to talk to. Not on social media, almost never going to campus events, always running back to her room after class.

GUY: “Why hide such a pretty face?”

Monet weakens and softens a little, clearly attracted,

MONET: “I…don’t.”

GUY: “Huh?”

MONET, shaking her head: “Never mind.”

The guy takes the awkwardness in stride, and asks her if she’d like to come hang out with him and his friends. They’ve heard the stories, and they want to know how many of them are true.

MONET: “If they’re tales of my successes, they’re true. If no, I assure you they’re falsehoods.”

The guy laughs loving that confidence. Monet seems to get a little more confident, as she says she’d love to join them. She’s actually working for Roberto and is helping him scout new employees - is that something they’d be interested in?

The guy remains polite, but is a little offput. They’re really just here for the drinks and to have a good time, not the job opportunities. He’s actually planning on starting his own startup next year. Get around having to work for guys like Da Costa. Monet asks him what he means, with the guy quick to list off the many crimes and scandals of Emmanuel Da Costa.

Monet raises an eyebrow, and says that while Roberto is a pompous, arrogant, disrespectful idiot with delusions of grandeur, he isn’t his father. The guy tells her she doesn’t need to defend her boss, there’s not judgement here for taking the job. These people are the same.

MONET: “These people?”

GUY: “You know what I’m talking about.”

MONET: “It sounds like you’re talking about me.”

GUY: “I didn’t mean it that–”

MONET: “I’m sorry that I don’t drink, because I would love to throw one in your face right now. I’ll just have to settle for this.”

Monet’s eyes glow red, and she makes the guy telepathically imagine he’s having a drink thrown in his face.

Monet stomps off, muttering to herself how this happens, “every time”, and approaches the bar.

MONET: “You. Do you have any apples? I need something to crunch on.”

BARTENDER, surprised: “Actually, yes. We don’t usually, but a whole bag of them was left in the kitchen and we–”

MONET, intensely: “Get me one.”

The bartender holds his hands up defensively, and walks off to the kitchen. Monet taps her foot as she sets her eyes on a group of bombshell Alpha Phi girls, sitting together and skipping their own party in favor of this one. After getting her apple and taking a bite, she braces herself, and forces herself to don an awkward smile, Monet walks up to them.

Monet, doing her best attempt at what she thinks sorority girls talk like, gives a weak, fake compliment of their near identical blonde, straight hair, and informs them that she’s been asked to help Mr. Da Costa pick out applicants, already working for him.

MONET: “Would any of you…bitches?...be interested?”

There’s an awkward pause, before the sorority girls all start laughing.

SORORITY: “We are definitely interested, but, like…who are you?”

Monet introduces herself, giving her full name, and tries to continue pitching, only to be cut off by the girls as they all start mimicking her accent, incorrectly pronouncing her last name, and trying to guess how it’s spelled.

Monet clenches her fist in frustration at this, as teeny, tiny red spikes come out of her hand. Taking a breath, and forcing herself to keep smiling, she retracts the spikes, as the girls apologize for interrupting and ask her to continue.

MONET: “Actually…I believe I’ve seen enough.”

Monet stomps off, once again, but the spikes start coming back out as frustration and stress overwhelm Monet. Seething, she superspeeds over to Roberto, who’s in the middle of teaching Theresa to dance, and shoves him to the floor. She’s done here. And with him.

Monet superspeeds off, tears in her eyes, as Roberto gets up and apologizes to Theresa; he’s going to have to cut this party short.

Back at the bar, Logan and Death fight one-on-one. Despite Akihiro weilding the Muramasa blade, and Logan already being severely injured, Logan still has the upper hand.

Meanwhile, Storm is attacked by the pheromone-controlled bartender and patrons, all of whom chant, “Kill Me”, with Ororo forced to fight defensively to avoid hurting, or killing, any of them.

Akihiro gives a brief monologue, echoing Apocalypse’s words to him, about who the real Mutants trying to save the world are. Because it isn’t the X-Men. Who are they? The weak, the compromising, the unfaithful, the unholy, the manipulated children, and those who stand atop humanity’s own institutions, infected by their corruption. Only Lady Akabba understands what is best for their people!

STORM, knocking out a man as painlessly as she can: “I said I do not kneel. Did I stutter?”

Logan tells Akihiro that he isn’t going to explain himself; just from what Aki’s said, he can see, he can feel, how poisoned his mind has been.

LOGAN: “What I can do is say I’m sorry for letting this happen. And promise you I’ll get you out of this.”

Logan talking down to him only pushes Akihiro over the edge, screaming and swinging at him wildly. Storm, in the process of dodging broken beer bottles, bar stools, and a pool cue, wants to jump in, but Logan tells her there’s no need.

AKIHIRO, attacking: “No need? No need?! How dare you! I am Death! Hand elite! Apprentice of Romulus! Horseman of Apocalypse!”

Logan catches Akihiro’s sword in his hand, even as it slices it wide open.

LOGAN, to a shocked Death: “Yeah, I’ve been trained by some of those guys too.” Logan hits Akihiro across the face with a right hook, sending him flying back into a wall. He slumps over on the floor. “And I’m a lot older than you.”

The brainwashed men all fall over unconscious, as Storm catches her breath and approaches Logan.

STORM: “Not a terrible workout. How much of what he said was true?”

LOGAN: “Enough. He is mine.”

Akihiro pants, struggling to pick himself back up.

AKIHIRO: “No…not…YOURS!”

Akihiro’s eyes glow and, in an instant, Logan is reduced to a pile of dust. Storm freaks out, launching her knives at Death, but he knocks them aside with his sword.

AKIHIRO, with venom: “Don’t worry. He’s still alive. He can heal from that. I have.” He points Muramasa at Storm. “When he wakes up, tell him I’ll be waiting for a rematch.”

Storm cannot do anything but glare as Akihiro runs off, and the dust slowly starts clumping together.

We cut to a fancy restaurant, where Emma, Scott, Bobby, and Shela are all seated, dressed appropriately. Shela bounces in her seat with excitement, fawning over the dress Emma got for her.

SHELA, nervously shrinking as she notices people looking at her: “I think people are staring.”

EMMA: “Darling, you’re with me; of course they’re staring.”

Shela giggles.

The teachers prompt Shela to tell them her story while they look over the menu, which Shela agrees to do. Shela explains how she was a pretty normal kid growing up, and then when she was 5, she turned out to be a Mutant. It took her a few years to understand what her powers actually were though. She can “Swap Circumstances” with people. Location, powers, knowledge, skills, you name it. She even assumes your “position” in the world, while whoever she swapped with is left in a daze, powerless. Plus, as a side effect from how much she’s used the power, her mind’s pretty cluttered, so most telepaths can’t really touch her.

BOBBY: “That’s…insane.”

SCOTT: “Says the man who can freeze time.”

BOBBY: “You need to stop being quippy right now because it’s really starting to bug me.”

Emma is enthused by the potential of Shela’s abilities, and questions why she bothers with all the technology - and where she obtained it. Shela scratches the back of her head and admits her power has a lot of restrictions. Can’t swap with more than two people at once, there’s a limit on each swap, she has to be within pretty close range to swap with someone,

SHELA: “Plus, I wouldn’t call myself an expert with it. Taken a lot of practice to get as good as I am. Soooo, I use the villain tech I steal. Mutants aren’t the only game in town, and there are tons of buyers for this stuff. It’s win-win.”

Cyclops can’t say he approves of her lifestyle, but he isn’t about to judge considering the one big, remaining question: Who IS she?

Shela sighs. When she came out as a Mutant, her parents were totally cool with it. They’re actually big fans of Dazzler. Life went on. Then when she was 12, she realized she was Shela. Her parents didn’t accept that. Emma and Bobby’s faces fall, all too familiar with this tale. Shela goes on to say that, after she was kicked out of her house, she was on the street for a bit until she was found by an awesome woman named Jessie who got her into a support group she ran for other trans Mutant kids - ones with nowhere to go. She learned a lot about herself there, met her best bud Morgan, and, yeah, even learned a little about the criminal scene some of them were a part of to survive, and getting into being a thief from there. And thanks to being a thief, she’s been able to cut a decent little life for herself, help provide for everyone else in the group, and, you know, start really becoming herself.

SHELA, to Emma: “It’s where I learned all about you. When I decided I wanted to be just like you. Obviously still working on that. That’s why I wanted to impress you, but didn’t want to reveal myself just yet. Not till I was more me ”

Scott is happy for the kid, while Emma remains intrigued and impressed, praising Shela for what she’s been able to accomplish despite her circumstances, and telling her she thinks she’s moving along toward her goals and being herself just fine. Iceman is confused though. Why are there a bunch of homeless Mutant kids? The school is open to all.

SHELA, sipping a shirley temple: “The Xavier Institute wasn’t even publicly for Mutants until four years ago. And even when it was…for most of us, being Mutants wasn’t the problem. There isn’t a lot of faith that the X-Men are any better. Jessie REALLY hates you guys.”

While Bobby is visibly struck by this, Scott promises Shela that the Jean Grey School is, genuinely, welcome to all Mutants. They have a diverse student body, and even some girls like her.

CYCLOPS: “Kinda.”

Shela shakes her head. That’s great and all, but just look at who the X-Men are. None of them could ever really understand them.

Emma can barely contain her laughter as she lights Shela’s eyes up blue.

SHELA: “HUH?!!!”

SCOTT: “Aaaaand now, people really are staring.”

SHELA: “You’re…but I thought…how…huh?!”

BOBBY: “What’s going on?”

Emma rolls her eyes and lights Bobby’s eyes up too.

BEAT.

BOBBY: “Get the Hell out.”

Emma tells Shela that she can more than understand her. If her friends don’t wish to come to the school, that’s their choice, but they should know that they will be looked after and cared for if they do.

EMMA: “The world is scary and hard and full of hate.” Scott puts an arm around her. “But you won’t find those who love and accept you unless you’re willing to take risks.”

Bobby seems to be just as attentive to Emma’s words as Shela.

Emma has an offer for Escapade. Come enroll in the school and get caught up on her studies, which she’s sure she’s horribly behind on, and finish the current semester with them. By next year, her current squad will all be ready to be X-Men; she will then be able to give Escapade her full attention.

SHELA, in awe: “I think I’m dreaming.” She slaps herself with both hands. “No. No I’m not.”

EMMA: “You’ve done well for your friends, Escapade, but now I offer you a chance to fight for your people - all of your people.”

Shela looks at each of the kind X-Men, before enthusiastically cheering “YES!”

Scott and Emma cheer as well, happy to have her, as the waiter comes by. Emma tells him to bring the secret specials; they’re celebrating.

Shela, mouth moving as a mile a minute, talks about how excited and insane this all is, Scott and Emma amused, as Bobby looks away in contemplation.

Monet sits alone in her dorm room, curled up in a ball on her bed, not having changed out of her club outfit. She’s pouting and distressed, watching children’s cartoons (it’s not shown explicitly for legal reasons, but she’s clearly watching Bluey).

There’s a knock on the door. Monet shouts at Thesea to give her some privacy, but…

ROBERTO: “Sorry. Not Terry. May I please come in?”

MONET: “Absolutely not.”

ROBERTO: “I brought apples. Well, I brought them back from the bar. I knew they’re your favorite so I made sure they were stocked.”

Monet is visibly surprised by the gesture, and softly tells Beto to make whatever he has to say quick. Beto enters, juggling three apples, before tossing them all over to M, who sits up and effortlessly catches them.

Beto wanted to come check on her and see what happen at the party. Monet tells him it’s none of his business, but Beto counters that since she just quit and he’ll go bankrupt and likely get punched in the face by Kitty without her, it very much is his business.

ROBERTO: “And even if it wasn’t, you can’t stop me from worrying.”

Monet sighs. It was nothing. She just didn’t like the way he was toying with her. And then… She trails off, grumbling, before continuing.

MONET: “Genetically, I am perfection. But people are more than genetics.”

Socially, she’s never been a butterfly. Always being standoffish and turning people away with her attitude for one, but also generally struggling when isn’t just putting on her polite manners for show. Back when she was in school, Beast thought she could be Autistic, but, for personal reasons, she never saw a specialist about it.

Beto admits he had no idea. He wouldn’t have tossed her into the position if he’d known. He’d just thought she struggled with making friends and wanted to help her. That’s why he pushed Theresa toward trying to spend time with her, and why he did ALL of this tonight as a mingling opportunity she could control.

BETO: “I admit…I can get a little ahead of myself with my plans.”

MONET: “You…did this all for me?”

Beto sits down and explains like its obvious. Monet could have graduated from college early and immediately started her own amazingly successful business, while also being instantly welcomed onto the X-Men, because they’d be fools to say no, but she chose to put her faith in him. And that means a lot.

Monet is stunned, and actually smiles - but doesn’t thank him. She continues to say that she isn’t the only problem. It’s everyone else.

MONET: “I grew up largely isolated. On my own or with my family. Then with Generation X, I had Chamber, Husk, Skin, the idiot, and…Everett. But now I’m in the real world. Not in a familial or X-shaped bubble.”

SUNSPOT: “And you’re not a fan?”

MONET: “And there are so few like me.”

This isn’t even about she and Theresa being the only Mutants on campus. It’s about the girls of her class here being vapid idiots, and American racial politics putting her in a position where the people who look like her think she’s evil and should lose everything she has just because she was born rich. By race or by class, she’s alone. By species too, really. There’s a reason she left the superhero life behind. Maybe she overreacted a little earlier, but the onus shouldn’t be on her to adapt to them.

MONET: “I’m sure this doesn’t make any sense to you. You’re in the same position, but you have no difficulty making everyone love you.”

Roberto laughs. She should know what they say about assuming.

ROBERTO: “It’s only a good idea if you’re a precog.”

Monet giggles.

Beto tells her how, before all of this, he was a football player in Brazil. Naturally, a very talented one. Largely surrounded by the palest teammates and competitors you can imagine, but he never thought that mattered. Until one day it did. Things got ugly. He got his powers, becoming slightly more awesome than he already was.

BETO, obviously lying: “And that was the end of that miserable day. I joined the school shortly after.”

Still, it didn’t matter if it was Brazil or America, the types of people he was surrounded by were largely the same. Not the biggest deal, he loves his family. But he also never bothered with an environment like this. And he can understand how isolating it may be.

The sadness underneath Roberto’s smile is evident, but M is clueless as to what to say. So, she changes things up a little.

MONET: “I don’t need this place. It doesn’t deserve me. Allow me to move to France and control our day to day operations. You know I will be more effective than the drones you’ve been using.”

BETO, smirking: “One condition.” Monet looks at him, waiting. “You agree to lunch every weekend. So you aren’t all alone.”

Monet giggles again. And she forcefully grips Beto’s hands.

MONET: “It’s a date.”

Beto grins back at her, as the two lean in and kiss each other. The two continue kissing as Monet rolls onto her back, allowing Roberto to get on top of her, Beto already moving to take his suit jacket off.

MONET: “Wait.” Beto instantly stops. “I’ve never done this before. Go slow.”

BETO, smiling at peace, nods: “As you wish.”

We pan away as the two begin to make love.

In Lady Akabba’s throneroom, Exodus and Malice laugh at a pissed Akihiro. He barks back at them to knock it off.

MALICE: “All that grumbling about how much you hate Daddy, and you couldn’t even kill him.”

EXODUS: “This is what we get for working with a Beta.”

AKIHIRO, getting up close in Exodus’ face: “Beta or Omega, I wouldn’t need any powers to kill you.”

EXODUS: “Of course you wouldn’t. That’s what you have your big, long sword for, isn’t it?”

AKIHIRO: “Exactly, and unlike some people, I’m not afraid to use mine.”

With a tilt of her head, Malice sends Akihiro flying back against a wall.

MALICE, standing confident with Exodus: “You’ve been War’s pet since Lord Apocalypse fell. Do you think she’ll appreciate your efforts?” EXODUS: “Or will that heartless witch put her little Daken down?”

The two snicker over the idea of Lady Akabba killing Akihiro. Death gets even more pissed, shaking with rage and prepared to attack, when a flash of pink light engulfs the room.

Accompanied by a bowing Lila Cheyney, Lady Akkaba appears from the light. Sofia didn’t have time to change before this, so she enters her evil lair dressed in a cropped sweater and jeans, still attempting to appear in control through her posture and expressions, regardless. If nothing else, Famine and Pestillence do silence themselves.

SOFIA: “Leave us.”

Exodus and Malice are fine with this order, smirking at Akihiro on their way over to Lila, who teleports the three of them away, leaving only Sofia and Aki.

Akihiro kneels, but, as Sofia turns blue, she immediately tells him to get up; there’s no need for airs right now.

AKIHIRO, smirking: “I haven’t seen you dressed like that in a long time, my lady. It’s cute.”

SOFIA, smiling: “You never…how long were you stalking me before we spoke?”

Death cackles, with Sofia giggling and shaking her head along.

SOFIA: “I see. Now…what happened?”

Akihiro, ashamed, gives the honest truth. He challenged his father and Storm, and, despite his strength, his multiple weapons, and the Muramasa blade, he was outclassed, and only escaped with some semblance of victory through the power of Death - something his father will recover from.

AKIHIRO: “You trusted me to eliminate those who Lord Apocalypse feared most. And I failed.” He holds out the Muramasa blade. “If you wish to claim it, my life is yours.”

Sofia glares at Akihiro, Akihiro standing stalwart and brave in the face of potential death. Until Sofia laughs.

SOFIA: “Don’t be so over-dramatic.”

Akihiro is confused as Sofia saunters over to her throne. Is it an annoying set-up back that he failed? Yes. Bur she hardly expected him to succeed on his own. There is a REASON Apocalypse feared his father and Storm. Even with one’s relatively minimal strength, and the other not even needing her weapon to be strong, they, more than anyone else, always found a way to win.

SOFIA, sitting down and crossing her legs: “I allowed you to attempt this because it is personal to you. Because Logan deserves to pay for what he has done. I never expected you to win.”

Akihiro takes the ego blow, but nods along. He points out that maybe Selene had a point about her being soft; Lord Apocalypse would have certainly killed him for this.

Sofia narrows her eyes, and blows herself back over to Akihiro on the winds.

SOFIA: “Do you really believe that?”

AKIHIRO: “Of course. Failure is the greatest sign of weakness.”

SOFIA: “That is true. But it is equally true that Apocalypse loves his family. That is what this is all about.”

AKIHIRO: “I’m not–”

SOFIA: “Hush. Exodus and Malice are mere servants. Ones we will eventually do away with. I am Apocalypse’s heir, but you are also his child. The only difference between us is that my biological predecessors were homo-sapiens. Your father is a Mutant, a strong one, and, despicable as he is, that means something to Apocalypse. But we are both his children. Father loves us both.”

Akihiro cheers up and thanks his lady. He’s honored by her words. He then points out that if she sees him as a brother, then what does that make her relationship with Laura.

SOFIA, amused: “Necessary.”

As Sofia blows her lightning-bolt shaped sword off the wall and into her hand, she tells Akihiro that he will be the king of the new world. And he will earn that role.

SOFIA: “You will fight your father again. And you will kill him.” She points her sword at his neck. “When I was at my weakest, it was you who found me. You who brought me here. You who guided me to my inner strength. Now, I shall pay it back. I will make you as strong as you need to be.”

Akihiro nods with excitement, readying Muramasa.

AKIHIRO: “Thank you, my lady. I am ready.” Dramatic music swells. “But perhaps you should consider getting changed first.”

Sofia is stunted for a second, looking over her outfit. The two laugh together.

Back at Shela’s apartment building, Escapade is scurrying around the place packing, excitedly chattering on a new phone to Morgan about how she’s going to live with the X-Men. “No, not the mean ones!”

Outside in the hallway, Scott, Emma, and Bobby wait for her, all happy with how this has worked out. Their “thief problem” was never really a problem, they’ve got a promising new student, and they get to give a kid who desperately needs a real one a home. Emma adds that she’ll be looking into the rest of this support group Shela belongs to. They obviously won’t make them come to the school, but she and Shela can ideally at least allieve them of their fears.

Scott cracks a joke about the idea of Emma making children less scared, which Emma just nudges him for, but Bobby has a stronger reaction to know. He wants to know what’s up with Scott that’s got him so smiley and jokey lately. Their situation hasn’t gotten better, hell, it’s only gotten progressively worse, so why now is he like this? Where’s the drill sergeant he grew up with?

Scott shrugs and tells him he didn’t even realize he was acting differently, but he’s definitely been feeling better. And not just because he sleeps every night next to the most gorgeous woman in the world. Yes, things haven’t been going the X-Men or Mutantkind’s way. But that’s because, for most of that time, he was doing things the Professor’s way. Now? He’s finally found himself. And regardless of anything else, that makes him the happiest he’s ever been. And it makes him confident about the future.

Bobby processes this, happy for him, and guessing that makes sense.

BOBBY: “Okay. I got it.” Bobby smiles at the two. “I’m leaving the X-Men.”

Scott and Emma are both shocked, with Emma demanding an explanation. Bobby reminds her what he’s been thinking about. About his identity. About both parts of his identity. Their school for Mutants is one where those who are different even among the other kids still need their own place to feel safe. It’s one Shela and her friends never felt safe coming to. And he gets it. He’s met Mutants with problems with people like them…people like himself.

EMMA: “And you believe you will make the school safer for them by leaving?”

BOBBY: “No, I’m leaving that to you guys. I’m leaving because I want to close that gap. So long as I’m with the X-Men, I’m a Mutant first, to some, a Mutant only. You two keep on focusing on keeping everyone alive; I’m going to focus on bringing us all together.”

Scott and Emma do agree that that’s sweet, and well-meaning, but couldn’t he just ask Northstar to do this? The X-Men don’t want to lose one of their biggest guns. Bobby points out that it’s not like he’s cutting off contact. If they need him, he’ll be there. They *better* call him when they find the Horseman. Plus, they have Magneto, they already decided they were going to give Wind Dancer her spot back to keep a closer eye on her, and he’s sure Wolverine will want back in to protect her. They’ll be fine.

Emma begrudgingly accepts this resignation, commending him for striking out on his own. Bobby thanks her for this last year. He wouldn’t have found himself if she hadn’t dragged him back onto the X-Men.

SCOTT, shaking Bobby’s hand: “I’m proud of you, twerp.”

BOBBY: “One of the five strongest Mutants alive and about to be a solo hero, and I’m still a twerp to you?”

SCOTT: “Always will be.”

We close as we cut to the school, where Shela, now in her signature yellow and blue Escapade costume, eagerly walks down the halls of the Jean Grey School, dragging her luggage behind her. Opening a door, she says hello to Martha and Ernst.

SHELA, couldn’t be happier: “HI! I’m Escapade! And I’m your new roommate!”

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

CAST CHANGE:

ICEMAN AKA BOBBY DRAKE IS NO LONGER PART OF THE MAIN CAST.

10 notes · View notes

lesbianwriter · 2 years

Text

Master list #2

I reached my link limit on the other one :(

Retired Hero

Part one

Part two

Werewolf x Witch

Part one

Henchman x Villain

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Detective x Thief

Part one

Part two

Sick Villain

Part one

Crabby Villain and Naive Hero Stuck Together

Part one

Part two

Single Mother Villain

Part one

Love Serum

Part one

Part two

The Show Must Go On

Part one

QPR

Part one

Supervillain and Scientist

Part one

Was It All a Lie

Part one

Princess in the Dragon Tower

Part one

Morally Grey Hero

Part one

Favorite Villain

Part one

Cage

Part one

Spies and Lies

Part one

Part two

Part three

Villain Kidnaps Civilian For Attention

Part one

Part two

Working Together

Part one

Cop x Villain

Part one

Lonely Lamia

Part one

An Old Enemy

Part one

Mentors and Mentees

Part one

Aro/Ace Assassins

Part one

Sidekick x Supervillain

Part one

Secret Identity

Part one

Cuddles and Kisses

Part one

Villain’s Child Wants to be a Hero

Part one

Part two

Asthma Attack

Part one

Replacement

Part one

Does It Hurt?

Part one

Civilian Kidnaps Villain

Part one

Straight Hero Flirts With Villain

Part one

A Goddess’s Aid

Part one

Hero x Civilian

Part one

Demon Transformation

Part one

Valentines Day

Part one

Hourglass

Part one

Bratty Hero

Part one

Stockholm Syndrome

Part one

Villain Dies

Part one

Running from the Law

Part one

Illusionist Vigilante

Part one

Retired Superhero and Supervillain

Part one

Evil Monologue

Part one

Childhood Friends to Enemies

Part one

Bad Day

Part one

Civilian and Villain are Roommates

Part one

Rehabilitation With Silent Villain

Part one

Part two

Villain x Reader

Part one

Hero is Villain’s Maid

Part one

Part two

Robot x Human

Part one

Part two

Part three

Hero Sitting By the Window

Part one

Dragon Kidnaps a Princess

Part one

Shy Vampire

Part one

Sunlight

Part one

Villain Cares for Civilian

Part one

Sleeping In

Part one

#master list

50 notes · View notes

thepenultimateword · 2 years

Text

Villain x Villain

First Meeting (villain x henchman)

Bad Guy (rookie villain x villain)

Jealousy (supervillain x villain)

Not What It Looks Like (villain x minion): 1, 2

A New Hero (villain x supervillain)

Righthand x Henchman: 1, 2

Billionaire Supervillain x Poor Villain: 1, 2, 3

Ancient Weapon (villain x henchman?)

Manipulative (villain x supervillain): 1, 2, 3, 4 Completed

Vampire Supervillain x Villain

Regrets (villain x righthand) : 1, 2

You Left Me! (Villain x supervillain): 1, 2

Two Jackals (supervillain x Righthand)

Shiny (villain x supervillain): 1, 2, 3, 4

Shipped (Righthand x henchman)

Big Bad (villain x supervillain): 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

In the Background (villain x Righthand): 1, 2, 3, 4 Completed

Date or Die (villain x supervillain): 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 Completed

Inconvenience (villain x supervillain)

Protective (villain x supervillain): 1, 2, 3, 4

Dearest Darling (villain x supervillain): 1, 2

Flirty and Protective (henchman x henchman): 1, 2

Sweet Dreams (villain x henchman): 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 9, 10 Completed

Scrap (villain x henchman): 1, 2

Mini Snippet (supervillain x villain), 2

Consequence of Action (villain x henchman)

School Day Woes: 1

If I Liked You (supervillain x villain): 1, 2

Strays (supervillain x villain + hero): 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Sharing is Caring

Not Just a Kiss (Supervillain x assistant)

The Supervillain’s Thief (Supervillain x thief): 1

Never again (Supervillain x Scientist)

A Little Bit of Madness

#blog navigation #masterlist #blog maintenance

133 notes · View notes

fantasci-side-blog · 1 year

Text

Alrighty, my pretties!

So, let's get #fantasci tumblr going!

First things first.

"Learn by example" & "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery"

I'm a #heroes and villains gal, and I love the community that exists around that tag. So let's try to encompass that!

All of the below goes for all types of creators: writers, artists, meme creators -- I just can't ctrl+h on Tumblr.

My experience with #heroes and villains has taught me that:

A - Ships

People love ships! #hero x villain is more popular than #heroes and villains, so make sure to tag your ships!

Your ship doesn't need to be romantic, I tag platonic, found family and friendship snippets and prompts as #hero x villain too!

It may get annoying for readers who don't want romance to see their favorite tag bombarded with romance. #hero x villain doesn't have a solution to that, except the occasional #enemies to lovers tag which makes the genre clear.

In our new community, make your content reader-friendly by tagging your post as romantic or otherwise, or mentioning it in the A/N at the top, or adding a genre disclaimer. Put a readmore so that users can scroll past if they don't have the right settings enabled.

No, don't have a blandly tagged post just to fish in defenceless readers! That's unethical! And your readers will be annoyed and may even block you (I know I've blocked users who won't add the right trigger warnings, make me uncomfortable).

B - Names!

Snippets and prompts without names receive more traction than ones with them in the #hero x villain and #heroes and villains "fandoms".

Idk, guess it's easier to get into the story, at least for me.

Of course, you can't have just Hero and Villain. What if they're both heroes? What if you have more than 2 characters?

Solution:

Villain names: Villain, Other Villain, Supervillain, Sidekick, Villain Sidekick, Henchman, Thief, Vigilante(?)

Civilian names: Civilian, Reporter, Mayor, Kid, Child, Teen, Parent

Now, what if your characters aren't easily definable? That's fine too! Some heroes are evil, some villains are good. But they still take their Hero/Villain name in the story BUT it's made clear who's the good guy

1) through their actions or

2) the tags like #good villain #bad hero #evil hero. These tags also make it easier for users to navigate their niche.

For example:

Maybe I want to read about sweet villains?

Then I'll look at the tags #good villain #kind villain #soft villain

What if I don't want to read about abusive characters?

I'll filter out the tags #abusive hero, #abusive villain, #cruel hero, #cruel villain and so on

It makes my navigation simpler, and if a writer prefers to write about cruel heroes, I can just filter them out without outright blocking them, keeping the door open for me to read their other works which may contain the tropes I do like which won't show up if I've blocked them.

It may feel weird, especially after you've chosen the perfect names, but I sincerely think the lack of names makes it easier for readers to get into the story.

If you still want names, you can always create a character list separately, or add in the names at the end or in a later part of the series (series of snippets! Not talking about your novel series here!)

Examples of #fantasci "names" off the top of my head:

Pirate, Queen, Thief, Mermaid, Prince, Knight, Robot, Alien, Human, Fairy, Warrior, General, Leader, Monster, Dryad, Dragon

If they're famous myth or fairytale figures, then feel free to use Cinderella, Medusa, Athena, Ares etc.

Disclaimer: I don't know if this might not be as big of an issue in #fantasci. Because while I have seen nameless fics get more traction on #heroes and villains, and I prefer those too, because I like just running head on into the story, who's to say #fantasci tumblr will be the same?

C - Organize!

<> Use the tags like above, it's still a new community so tags will grow and decline organically, I hope. But that's the tagging system I'll be using on my blog and for my works.

<> Have a masterlist on your blog, categorized however feels right for you.

<> Write what genre your work is, in the tags or A/N. Fluff, angst, flangst, whump, hurt no comfort, hurt/comfort etc.

<> Differentiate between mediums!

If it's a snippet, prompt, or if you're promoting your OCs or published works.

This community started because of the information overload on #creative writing #fantasy etc, such that people weren't getting readers, and the #hero x villain writers who were getting readers, weren't getting readers if they went outside that genre.

So, tag it as #fantasci snippet/s, #fantasci prompt/s, I guess

If you're promoting your book, maybe tag it as #fantasci book?

I can guess how good it feels to complete a book and you want everyone to buy it and read it, and it may seem like you should promote it everywhere to everyone...

But think about it from the reader's perspective.

Maybe they can't afford to buy books at the time, but they would be the absolute best supporter of your snippets because they love cyberpunk found family which is the specialty of the snippets you post for writing practice on Tumblr.

And maybe they'll be so in love with you as a person for making their days better with your snippets, that they buy your book the first chance they get when they have cash to spare.

Don't scare them off by filling the tag with books that you have to buy before you read them. Yes, even if you're indie authors. We already have #fantasy #indie author etc (and I think they suffer from a highly skewed writer: reader ratio too).

This community is for people who want to check out the fantasci genre, want to fill prompts, want to read short snippets that explore one trope or one cliche they like.

It's perfectly okay to be excited for your book. But think of the community.

If you really want readers, do it organically through what's essentially content marketing. Write prompts, snippets, prompt fills. This will get you followers and traction. THEN promote your book on your own blog. The people who like your snippets will like your published work you put more effort on lol.

<> Put trigger warnings! Tag it if it's not sfw! If it has those themes or even allusions to them! It is NOT fun to be reader and suddenly come across something that makes you uncomfortable. Happens enough times and you're blocked.

D - Interact!

Here's a handy list for interacting with creators.

I once wrote a long and heartfelt email to an indie game company. They responded with a generic corporate thank you and a "look out for our next game."

That sucked.

Made me feel bad, actually. I would've preferred no reply at all because then I could assume it got lost, or I could've forgotten.

But they replied and didn't make it seem they valued my appreciation... that company has a bad impression in my brain now, and if I do play their games, I just don't want to interact with them anymore.

More Tumblr specific is when I interact with a blogger's work and write such a long heartfelt reply and they don't reply at all. Still better than a corporate reply, but happens enough and it makes me feel bad and I regret spending time writing that stupid email.

If I write a paragraph-long appreciation letter for 2 people, and one person replies back and interacts, while the other doesn't do anything, who do you think I'm gonna write more paragraphs of appreciation for?

Why am I saying this? Don't I think you already know, most of you being creators and all?

The success of #hero x villain lies in its community. Of course, there are more lurkers and likers instead of rebloggers and commenters.

But rebloggers and commenters exist! People even send asks! They especially send anon asks, with requests for prompts or snippet continuations

How it works is that:

A reader will enter the tag first as a lurker. They might not even heart your posts.

They see a few posts, see what they like and don't like

They check out an author's masterlist for other works

They follow if they like your work enough

They might let you know what they like as an anon, might even become a regular anon

They might send anon ask requests which you are free to accept or reject. Do not feel pressured. You are allowed to say no.

Best case scenario is they comment their appreciation, and reblog for their other followers to see.

I see that, despite this blog (@fantasci-side-blog) getting followers thanks to the pinned post, there's isn't much interaction.

I'm sure you know that hurts. Doesn't hurt me much right now because I'm not actually posting my own works, just reblogging stuff I like. Sometimes I'm adding little comments.

It does make me anxious over the lack of community though. But I'm going to chalk it up to it having only been a few days since I created the hashtag.

The fact that you're not interacting could have multiple reasons:

<> You don't like the content I'm reblogging.

Valid. But seriously, nothing? Wow, my interests are niche online too. You want to follow blogs you want on your dash, right? Why are you following my blog if you don't like the stuff I'm posting?

<> You don't want to reblog on your main blog and are thinking of creating a separate blog just for reblogging.

Hmm, that could work but only if you have a good enough following, or expect a following on that blog. Otherwise, you're just talking to an empty void and defeating the purpose of reblogs.

<> Posts aren't showing up on your dash.

Valid. Time differences, or your dash has too much already, or Tumblr glitches.

<> No time.

Valid. I hope you find the time to relax. Please prioritize your health (mental and physical, idk if there are any other) over social media.

<> You liked it but have nothing to say.

Valid. But an empty reblog might help the creator. Not all creators appreciate empty reblogs, but if that empty reblog leads one of your followers seeing it who does interact with it, well, that's the dream.

<> You hearted it, isn't that enough?

Unfortunately, not always. Some creators like likes, for sure. But all creators prefer some form of interaction.

<> "I queued it."

Hi-5! I do this too! Read the next point.

<> "I'll tag and queue later."

I do this too! Valid imo. But I try to make it a point to prioritize posts with low notes or low interaction or new writers over popular Tumblr blogs with hundreds of notes a piece. I hope you can see my logic. Sometime posts that didn't get interaction when they were first posted get a lot when they're reblogged at a different time of the day or year.

<> No one interacts with my work! Why should I for anyone else?

Community, darling. Read below.

You can't just keep posting your work and expect engagement but then not respond to said engagement.

As a reader, it's like talking to a void. I will stop engaging and feel sad. I am giving my time, energy, feelings. But I feel embarrassed about writing so much for nothing.

The writer doesn't owe me engagement, of course not.

But why should I, a reader, interact if I'm not receiving anything in return?

What if there's another user who's not as a good of a creator but is actually friendlier?

I'll go there. I'll interact more over there.

It's not that the writer already invested time and energy into making their work that they shouldn't have to put more time and energy into a back and forth.

It's that the reader is also putting in time and energy to

1) actually go through your work

2) think about what to write

3) writing it

4) reblogging or comment or sending an ask for others to see.

It's a symbiotic relationship.

It's community.

Most of my friends are users turned mutuals whose posts I interacted with. We don't need to reblog all of our friend's works, but I have friends I can talk to, help out, get help from, tag on posts I think they'd like, share posts with which they then do reblog.

It's just a wholesome relationship.

Sometimes an author won't reply to my reblog publicly, but will take the effort to message me privately. This may also soon take the form of them becoming my actual friendo! 🤩🥰

A social media consultant I worked with once (she was really nice and intelligent, don't be mean) said that if someone is taking the effort to engage with you, you should put double the effort to engage back.

I agree. For the above reasons.

E - next steps

This is just me trying stuff out! This is NOT the #heroes and villains community so some things might work, some things may not. We're here to try everything including new ideas and see what to stick with!

Next steps for me and you

Create a masterpost/ masterlist of previous works

Create an intro post (optional)

Mention if you prefer asks or anon asks (optional)

Mention if you take requests (optional)

Interact with blogs and stories you like

Use #fantasci tumblr on your old posts, they'll show up in the tag dw

Don't tag me for every single one of your posts, because this is my side blog, not a community wide blog. I have my own preferences and time limitations and I won't read stuff that doesn't interest me. And I'll only reblog stuff that does interest me or stuff I like. I would appreciate being tagged in stuff you think I'm interested in though! Just not everything you ever post lol

PUT TRIGGER WARNINGS. Tag your stuff! Or risk getting blocked!

My birthday's coming up soon so prepare presents. I do accept early and late presents so you can give them to me any time of the year. I take cash, credit, gold, magical amulets, books, writing advice, and more! :) (highly recommended)

#writeblr #artblr #tumblr #intro post #Fantasci Tumblr history

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agentstovring · 4 months

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💛Smoshblr December Asks Day 23💙

What are your top 3 favourite books (/comics/manga/poems/etc...) and/or top 3 you would recommend to others?

Oh, here we go, we're in my house now! (Obligatory "I could never choose just three" disclaimer here)

Microserfs by Douglas Coupland - I love the way Coupland writes, and this is my favorite of his fiction novels. It follows a group of programmers who leave their safe jobs at Microsoft to risk at all for their own start-up. It's funny, sweet, and very nerdy. (Other gems by this author: Generation X; JPOD; The Gum Thief)

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller - I'm obsessed with the story of Achilles and Patrocles, and this retelling still far exceeded my expectations. It's beautiful, epic, and impossibly tender. It's the first and only book that's ever made me audibly sob.

Nimona by ND Stevenson - Stevenson started Nimona right here on tumblr, when they were an art student! The comic follows Nimona who wishes to become a villain's henchman, and Ballister Blackheart, the "villain" in question. This comic is full of heart, it's hilarious, and I'm forever in love with Stevenson's art style.

And now, I hope you're warmed up, because I'm about to rec you. (I'm sorry, that's very sexual; forget that part.)

I put recommendations under the cut, please check them out!

ALSO, if you like quizzes, I have a uquiz where I recommend you books based on your answers! You can find it here; and my ask is open if you wanna talk about your result :)

Thank you for asking!

I obviously recommend my three favorites listed in this ask, but I also recognize that they're not for everyone, so here are three others:

If you like comic books and feminist history, I recommend "Brazen: Rebel Ladies Who Rocked the World" by Pénélope Bagieu A collection of short comics about iconic women who have left their mark on the world throughout history. Gorgeous art style, factual history, and a lot of humor. (Translated into over a dozen languages, in case English is not your favorite; I read it in Danish myself)

If you like classics, but not the 'fancy ladies talking about marriage while needlepointing' kind of classic, I recommend "The Three Musketeers" by Alexandre Dumas You're probably at least somewhat familiar, but just in case: The young d'Artagnan goes to Paris to become a musketeer, joining forces with Athos, Porthos, and Aramis in their efforts to take down the corrupt Cardinal Richelieu. The writing style is surprisingly modern, making it more readable than many classics of the time; and it's dramatic, swashbuckler-y, and fun.

If you think horror and comedy go hand in hand, I recommend "John Dies at the End" by Jason Pargin/David Wong John and Dave are slackers all but sleepwalking through life in their small town; until they do a mysterious drug at a house party and gain the ability to see the supernatural. Turns out their sleepy town is chockful of horrific creatures, and now that John and Dave can see them, they're putting up a fight. It's a genuinely funny read, but it also scares the shit out of me. And it's a series! There are 4 books in total, so far; in my opinion, each one is scarier than the one before.

#ask #replies #books #literature #wallpaper-inside-my-heart

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sublime82 · 1 year

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Ride or Die vs Cop out

After rewatching the OG teen titans

I finally understand my hatred of beat boy and robin relationship

beast boy is a ride or die person . I mean he will try to make you see reason and talk you through whatever issues you have but in the end he will have your back.

Where Robin he has a strict code and if he feels that you are a threat he will take you out and he has no problem lying to you and going behind your back.

I find this funny because the one time that beast boy went out of control robin threaten him with prison and even said put beast boy down like he was just some random animal and not his teammate and friend.

While lets list all the times that robin went off the rails

(Slade's apprentice) he got himself working for slade due to falling for his traps and instead of trying to figure a way to communicate or let the titans know what was happening he kept quiet and did his macho lone wolf routine and almost got his team killed

Red -X robin posed as a thief to try to get closer to slade not telling his team and also making specific weapons to fight them without so much as a heads up

Slades mask Due to slade knowing that robin would absolutely obsess over him he put some chemical or something on a mask that robin got his hands on and slowly got drugged until he literally started to hallucinate slade and still got his butt

kicked

Brushogun when robin got framed for murdering brushogun henchman

Brotherhood of evil robin led not just his team but the entire titans organisation into a trap because he was to hard headed and wanted to prove that he was capable of the big league level threats and refused to listen to Beast boy who has literally fought wars against them for years and knew the brain better than anyone almost getting everyone killed.

#beast boy #teen titans #young justice #garfield logan #dc robin

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that-storming-writer · 2 years

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Master List

I have a couple of snippets up with a few more I'm writing, so I've decided to make a masterlist. Requests are open and the rules can be found here.

Italics= Not continuing, one-shot

Anything not italicized is open to continuation.

Puppet, Hero x Villain

Selfish Sacrifice, Hero x Villain

Quiet Nights, Civilian x Villain, Doctor x Villain, wlw

Inevitable Interview, Villain x Henchman

Music Box Mayhem, Thief, Heist, Hero x Villain (not the focus)

I Am Not a Hero, Hero x Villain

One Last Call, Hero x Villain Part 1, Part 2

You're Early, Villain x Civilian

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ohsimspo · 11 months

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Pride month is coming and I thought it might be fun creating a challenge dedicated to it. The idea is to create couples in CAS! But it doesn't have to just be a challenge; it can be used for ideas in general. Just have fun with it. (And although it says w/w and m/m, I'm not excluding non beanies or other folks in the LGBTQIA+. Like I said, just have fun with it.)

prince / princess x loyal knight

goth x pastel

cottagecore x dark academia

fae x vampire

bimbo x librarian

human x werewolf

pirate x selkie / merfolk

ghost x groundskeeper

chauffeur x celebrity

bookstore owner x artist

florist x tattoo artist

demon x angel

jester x knight

lifeguard x merfolk

elf x traveller

huldra x baker's daughter

hunter x vampire

werewolf x vampire

dragon x royalty

living statue x gardener

werewolf x hunter

knight x stablehand

alien x conspiracy theorist

archeologist x immortal

real estate agent x unsellable house's ghost

your choice

half spider / drider x naga

siren x diver

detective x thief

hero x villain

and because I went way overboard, your bonus challenges/inspiration can be found below the read more.

blue x red

photographer x model's assistant

mortician x zombie

guard x the guarded

sun x moon

scientist x failed lab experiment

court jester x prince / princess

journalist x antihero

cheerleader x sports player

tired college student x barista

fashion designer x model

punk x gamer

author x video game designer

social butterfly x loner

doorman of hotel x receptionist

workaholic x late night janitor

henchman x sidekick

singer x songwriter

tourist x summer not-so-fling

beekeeper x farmer’s market stall worker

sidekick x villain

zookeeper x animal communicator

if anyone has an ideas they'd like to add, feel free to message me. i'll add more to this post or make a separate one.

#cas #cas challenge #sims challenge #sims cas challenge

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gingerly-writing · 4 years

Text

Prompt #2318

“Fuck you,” the henchman snapped. “Do you think I can’t hear you fucking [thief] at all hours? We’re supposed to be partners. You’re supposed to- I’m supposed to mean something! But I’ve been sleeping in the basement for six weeks so you can fuck other people and I’m done. We’re through.”

#prompt #my prompt #mine #heroes and villains #thief #henchmen #henchman x villain #cheating

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whisperofsong · 2 years

Text

Among The Stars

Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Riff x Latina! Reader

Summary: Riff and Olivia’s relationship no longer remains a secret and the revelation of their clandestine love has serious ramifications.

*Disclaimer: This is my lengthiest chapter to date and I have never been prouder to claim something as my own. I truly gave this chapter my everything and value any feedback you are willing to provide me. Thank you so much for your trust in me as a writer; I am overflowing with gratitude for all of YOU!

____________________________________________

Melodic chirping occurs outside my bedroom window and a thin veil of sunlight is strewn across my floor. My eyes adjust to my new state of consciousness, the warmth of the summer sun washing over me. My previous night with Riff was everything I could ever yearn for…the banter, flirtation, and intimate moments strung together solidified my love for him.

I remove myself from my bedsheets and hear muffled voices outside my bedroom door. When I glance at my alarm clock, it reads 8:07. It’s a bit early for company, especially on a weekday. I open my bedroom door and immediately halt. At the kitchen table are Mama, Papi, and…Bernardo. Although they were in the midst of conversation, their talking ceases upon seeing me standing by the threshold between my bedroom and the kitchen. I gulp, visibly apprehensive, while they all stare, visibly tense.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Bernardo, my voice coming out a bit more gruffly than I anticipated.

Before Bernardo can respond, my father inserts himself into the conversation. “He was telling us about your relationship with the gang leader.” Papi’s voice is so smooth and measured that we might as well be discussing the weather.

“Papi-“

“No, Olivia. No. You’ve been lying to Mama and me. For weeks. He’s corrupted you, mija.”

My face scrunches in hurt and anger and I transfer my emotion to Bernardo.

“You know nothing!”

“I know enough, Olivia. Quique saw you and Riff at the club last night. You were…” Bernardo pauses, his features displaying discomfort and disgust. “You were clearly together.”

“How could you?! Do you have nothing better to do than to come in here and uproot my happiness?!”

“Happiness?” Bernardo scoffs. “You’re delusional. That gringo’s filled your head with lies.”

“He hasn’t!” I scream.

“Olivia!” Papi’s commanding voice captures my attention and causes me to bristle. He almost never shouts and when he does, it’s a result of intense emotion. “Do not speak to Bernardo like that. He’s the good guy here. He’s doing this to protect you because apparently, you’re incapable of protecting yourself.”

“You don’t understand, Papi, Riff-“

“Es un bastardo!” (Is a bastard!) “He and his henchman parade these streets, wearing hate and violence as their badges. And yet you have the nerve to defend him? To sneak off to see him like a thief in the night?”

“I love him, Papi.” My declaration might as well have been a gunshot because nothing but stunned expressions are seen on my parents’ and Bernardo’s faces. Bernardo’s pulse throbs in his cheek while my mother is stiff. Papi, however, stares at me before slamming his hand on the table and abruptly standing up.

“Nonsense! This ends now.” He points his finger at me heatedly. “You are never to see that delinquent again. If he comes anywhere near here, I’ll call the police.”

“Papi, stop!”

“Hand over your phone, Olivia.”

“W-why?”

“I don’t trust you won’t communicate with him. Not after all that’s happened.”

I eye Papi somberly, willing him to reduce the harshness of his actions.

“Go get it,” Papi orders icily.

I go to my room to retrieve my phone and when I hand it to my father, he snatches it with such force that I jump.

“I’m sorry things had to be handled this way, Olivia,” Bernardo says. “But I’m not sorry for telling the truth. Riff is not a good man and the fact that you can’t see him for who he is proves you’re even more naive than I thought.”

I turn my head in the opposite direction of Bernardo because I refuse to look at him in this moment. He and his opinions can go to hell.

“Gracías, Bernardo,” Mama says softly, her eyes glossy.

Papi nods in agreement. “We owe you, Bernardo. Thank you for looking out for Olivia.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Mr. Ramirez.” With that, Bernardo hastily walks out the door and leaves the three of us to deal with the aftermath of his revelation.

Mama finally speaks up and looks me in the eye. “All this time that you’ve been spending with Theresa…you’ve been with him?”

“Yes,” I admit.

“And you’ve…spent nights with him?” Mama asks, insinuating the loss of my virtue.

“Yes, but nothing has happened. We only slept.”

Papi slams his hand on the table for the second time in a span of less than five minutes. “Stop lying to us! Do you think your mother and I are fools?”

“I’m not lying, Papi! Riff and I haven’t done…anything like that. He knows I’m not ready and respects my decision.”

Papi laughs bitterly. “You expect me to believe a man like that respects anything let alone your virtue?”

“He does. He respects me. Period. And he loves me as much as I love him.”

Mama sighs. “You’re confused, Olivia. This isn’t love.”

“It is, Mama. For years, I’ve been merely existing, but when he entered my life, he revived me. He’s made my life worthwhile and I love him. I love him so much.” My voice cracks upon uttering those last few words and my bottom lip trembles.

“How can you love a man like that?” Mama asks. “After everything Bernardo’s told us…”

“What exactly has he told you?”

“That you were with him at that dance weeks ago. That he came to see you the next evening at the diner. About what him and his gang do. How several of his friends….” Mama pauses, collecting herself as tears spring from her eyes. “…assaulted you. Is there truth to any of this?”

“Yes. But he wasn’t part of what his friends did to me. Riff would never hurt me,” I state confidently, knowing my words are true.

Papi renters the conversation. “Don’t you see? He already has hurt you. You’re deceiving your family, sacrificing your scruples, being disloyal to those in our community. How can you have feelings for someone who’s led you down this destructive path?”

“Because he’s willing to change. He wants to be better and he’s been doing better. He’s so good to me, Papi. Please give him a cha-“

“Enough.” Papi glares at me. “I don’t want to hear another word about that man.”

“His name is Riff, Papi.”

“I don’t care about his name because I don’t care to know any more about him than I already do.” After a few beats, Papi says, “Go to your room.”

Despite Papi’s instruction, I continue to stand there as tears silently fall, making my cheeks glisten.

“I was going to tell you both about him. Today actually.”

“And we’re expected to believe that?” Papi asks. He shakes his head and walks to his and Mama’s bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Mama and I are left alone in the kitchen. Mama folds her hands, examining them as if she’s expected to write an extensive report about them. “I’ve always trusted you because of your commitment to doing what is right and leading selflessly.” She pauses and stops fiddling with her hands. “I no longer recognize you and I no longer trust you.”

My head droops, my shoulders sag, and my mouth wobbles as I cry without reservation.

Mama slowly rises from her seat at the kitchen table and makes her way to her closed bedroom door, leaving me alone with my heartbreak. My heartbreak is not specific, but extensive, as I grieve the loss of my united family, newfound happiness, and extraordinary love. What matters most to me is slipping through my fingers and all I can do is observe as my life, now frayed at the seams, is coming apart.

I make my way to bedroom in a resigned fashion, closing the door with my back pressed against it. I lean my head against the door and look up, my vision made blurry by the tears pooling within my eyes. All I want is to seek refuge in Riff’s arms, but I’m trapped in the war zone, disorder enveloping me.

____________________________________________

Riff’s POV

Although I don’t typically work weekdays at Lucky’s, their usual guy called out and they were desperate. I didn’t mind filling in for him, considering I could always use some additional cash. Plus, I saw a necklace in a jewelry shop the other day that reminded me of Olivia and want to set some money aside to get it for her.

When I walk into my apartment, I kick off my shoes and grab a soda out of the refrigerator. I’m lethargic after being on my feet for hours and want to increase my energy level so I can be somewhat awake when I call Olivia. I never thought I’d be the kind of guy itching to talk to his girl every day, but life has a way of surprising ya. I was mildly disappointed when I checked my phone before leaving the bar and didn’t have any messages from her. She probably got busy at the diner and I couldn’t hold that against her.

Once I’m comfortable on my bed, I press her name, the main name comprising most of my calls in my Recents list and eagerly anticipate being greeted by her voice. It rings and rings and when it eventually goes to voicemail, I hang up, deciding to call again in a few minutes.

No answer the second time either. After it goes to voicemail the third time, I’m too wired to sleep. I decide to go for a walk, hoping some fresh air and activity will reduce my restlessness.

While walking, I hear the scuffing of feet behind me. I turn around and spot a couple guys, but ignore them, brushing it off. However, in no time at all, several more guys appear ahead of me and under the artificial glow of the street lamps, I realize they’re Sharks as are the guys behind me. I stop walking and decide to face them. What have I got to be afraid of? I haven’t done anything illegal lately.

“Evening, boys. Nice night for a stroll, ain’t it?” I ask casually. They look at me expressionless and I shrug, unaffected by their standoffishness. When I attempt to move past them, one of them puts his hand against my chest, preventing me from moving forward. I look at his hand with a small smile as if to challenge him. “Is there a problem, muchacho?”

“You could say that,” utters a voice off to my left. I glance in this direction and am met with Bernardo striding up the sidewalk, his features hard and focused.

“Ya just couldn’t stay away, could ya?” I tease him.

“Seems I should be asking you that same question, although I already know the answer,” Bernardo replies.

My eyes form into slits as I study him in order to determine his angle.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Enough with the games. I know about you and Olivia.”

“Afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really?”

“Afraid so.”

“Care to explain why you were all over her last night at the club? Or do you have a twin we’ve yet to meet?”

Some of his Sharks snicker, clearly amused by their leader.

“Look, I don’t know what you think you know-“

“I saw you,” a different Shark remarks. He looks at me with nothing but contempt burning in his eyes.

“You’re going to stay away from Olivia.” Bernardo’s voice is rigid.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because we both know she means nothing to you. It’s a game to you, a ruse. An experiment. And it ends now.”

“It’s not a game to me,” I assert, my voice hardening at Bernardo’s accusation.

“No?” Bernardo feigns mulling this over. “Then what is it exactly?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Bernardo slightly smiles before responding. “And we don’t owe you any mercy.”

Before I can process his words, his fist darts out and slams into my jaw. I drop to the ground as a result of the intense blow. Two of his guys grab and hold me against a nearby chain link fence as Bernardo punches me without even breaking a sweat. There’s too many of them for me to fight back. When he punches me in the gut, a grunt signaling extreme discomfort leaves my body and I sink to my knees.

Bernardo shakes out his hand while grimacing at me. “You ever come near her again and you’ll be done, you hear me? Done.”

I can barely look up at him, clutching my stomach and hardly able to conceal the agony I’m in after Bernardo treated me like his personal punching bag. He and his guys walk away without another word, fading into the darkness of the night. My jaw is pounding and my stomach is killing me.

When I try to stand up, I wince. “Shit,” I breathe. Bernardo is one skilled fighter, I’ll give him that. Begrudgingly. I’m eventually able to peel myself off the ground and as I head home, I call Olivia again. No answer. “Dammit!” I groan out loud. All I want is to hear her voice and for her to come over so she can be my personal nurse.

Once I’m in my apartment, I grab a package of frozen vegetables and lay on my bed with the package resting against my jaw, hoping it decreases some of the swelling there. Eventually, my eyelids become heavy and close while the frozen vegetables slide off my face and land beside me with a soft rustling sound, but I’m too exhausted to do anything about it before morning.

____________________________________________

Olivia’s POV

The next morning, I don’t have to be at the diner until 10:00, which gives me plenty of time to make a stop that’s innocuous enough to not draw any attention.

I emerge from my bedroom to find the kitchen vacant, the place at the table where Papi is usually seated savoring his morning coffee empty. Breakfast dishes are drying in the rack beside the sink. He must have left early, likely to avoid seeing me and having to suffer through what would undoubtedly be a severely awkward encounter. Nevertheless, it hurt that he couldn’t even look at me as a result of the shame I brought upon our family.

The whole ordeal has curbed my appetite, so I grab a granola bar from behind one of the cabinets and hear the rhythmic hum of Mama’s sewing machine. I contemplate leaving without saying goodbye because I know she’s disappointed in me as well. However, if I’m going to mend my severed relationship with my parents and restore it to what it once was, such an immature act would get me nowhere.

I tentatively approach her bedroom and lightly knock against the doorframe. Mama looks up from her work. “Good morning,” she greets me dryly.

“Good morning, Mama. I’m heading out to Doc’s to grab a few things before my shift at the diner. Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you.” Her tone is polite yet strained with emotion. I linger in the doorway, expecting and perhaps hoping she’ll say more, but she doesn’t say a word. Instead, Mama fidgets with the item of clothing in her hand as if this demands all her attention.

“I better be off then,” I finally say.

“Goodbye, Olivia.”

“Bye, Mama.” I walk away, clutching my heart as it sighs with sadness.

On my way to Doc’s, my footsteps feel heavier and all this alone time with my thoughts is torturous. All I can consider is how rapidly things have gone downhill, the vision of Papi and Mama’s devastated expressions flashing in my mind. The anger Papi exhibited was like nothing I’ve ever seen in all twenty years of knowing and loving him. And to have it directed towards me? It was too much to bear.

The door to Doc’s jingles merrily as I open it and survey my surroundings. I’m worried I wasted a visit here until I hear shuffling behind the counter and notice a tall figure appear behind it. Tony is rummaging through a box of items while pieces of his hair fall into his face before he notices me standing here.

“Oh, hi, Olivia. Have you been standin’ there a while?”

I shake my head and give him a small smile. “I have to pick up a few things and also…I need to talk to you about Riff.”

Tony’s pleasant expression changes and a slight frown crosses his face as he appears to brace himself for the information I’m about to relay. “What’d he do this time?”

“Nothing,” I hastily reply. “Well…it’s what we both did really.” I gulp and temporarily close my eyes so I can maintain composure and explain myself clearly. “We’ve been…sneaking around. For weeks now and…one of the Sharks saw Riff and me the other night while we were at a club.”

Tony closes his eyes and sucks in a breath while he looks down as he processes the magnitude of the situation. I continue sharing the unnerving details. “Bernardo came to my family’s apartment this morning and told them about us. And now…” My fleeting composure crumbles and I begin to cry. “My phone was taken away and I’m forbidden to see him,” I disclose through choppy sobs. “He’ll worry about me, I know he will. And I can’t do that to Riff. I love him so much…too much, Tony.”

I cover my face with hands, soaking them with what seem to be endless tears. “My parents can barely look at me and I’ve completely lost their trust. I just…can’t deal with all this by myself. I need you to tell him what’s happened.”

“Of course. Absolutely.”

“Wait,” I say softly. “There’s more. I also need you to tell him not to do anything foolish. I’m certain he’ll want to see me, but under no circumstances can that be done. Bernardo and the Sharks will be watching me like a hawk while I’m at the diner and one of them will be walking me home every time I leave. And Riff definitely can’t come to my apartment. He’ll be taking a major risk and it will only further jeopardize our future together…if we even still have one,” I add in a remorseful tone.

“I’ll tell him all that, Olivia. But I’ve known Riff a lot longer and know he’s unlikely to listen. I’ll try, though. I promise.”

I nod firmly. “Thank you, Tony. Really. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

Tony reaches out his long arm and touches mine. “Don’t mention it.”

I then meander through the small store and select a few small necessities to purchase before thanking Tony one last time and exiting Doc’s, feeling slightly better than when I arrived. Please be receptive, Riff, I think to myself. Do this for us. Please.

____________________________________________

Riff’s POV

I’m drumming my fingers impatiently against the kitchen table, staring at my phone, when Tony walks through the door. It’s only 7:32 so the old bat must have released him early.

“Hey,” I greet him in a lackluster voice. I’ve yet to hear from Olivia and have stopped calling her after 7 unreturned phone calls and 5 unanswered text messages.

“Hey,” says Tony, closing the door behind him. “Someone of interest paid me a visit at Doc’s today.”

“Your parole officer?”

“No. Olivia.”

My heart is practically in my throat upon hearing this news and I rush over to Tony who’s still standing near the front door. “What’d she say? Why’d she come to see you? Is she alright?”

“Slow down, buddy boy. Give me a chance to say somethin’.”

“Is she alright?” I repeat.

Tony hesitates. “Depends on your definition of fine.”

My body tenses. “What’s wrong?”

“Bernardo told her parents about your relationship, about his friend seeing you two out the other night. He came over her place this mornin’ to break the news.”

“Shit!” I run my hands through my hair several times as I try to gather my scrambled thoughts.

“Her phone was taken away Riff, so she can’t contact ya. And she-“

I move around Tony and go to unlock the door. “I need to see her.”

“No, Riff.” Tony roughly grabs my arm, holding me back.

“Get off me, man.”

“No. She doesn’t want you coming to see her. It’ll only make things worse.”

“Newsflash, Tony. Things are already worse. How much worse can they possibly get?!”

“Try to see her and you’ll find out.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means her parents are pissed, Riff. It’s obvious she cares about you and she wants to protect you from whatever might happen. Although your face suggests you’ve already been through the ringer.”

“Bernardo beat me up last night. Multiple Sharks were there, too. Not even a fair fight. I didn’t think he’d tattle to her parents though. I should’ve known the asshole would-“

“Riff, stop. Anger isn’t gonna solve anything.”

“Yeah? Well neither is sittin’ here, doing nothin’. I need to see my girl, Tony.”

“And you will. But not now. You’ve gotta give people time to cool off.”

“How long’s that gonna take? A couple days?”

“More like a couple weeks…at best.”

I laugh bitterly and shake my head. “Ya know, it’s real easy for you to give orders when it’s not the love of your life being ripped away from you! Do you know what life was like prior to Olivia? Bleak. Empty.”

“What about the Jets?” Tony cuts in.

I shake my head. “They’re my guys and they’ll always be my guys. But they don’t make up for the love that’s been missin’ from my life.”

I swallow hard. “Olivia’s just…pulled me out of the darkness I’ve been living in and given me something worthwhile to run towards.”

Tony cocks his head to the side thoughtfully. “What’s that?”

“Light. Goodness. Because that’s what she is and I realize I want that in my life.”

Tony steps towards me and claps a firm hand on my shoulder. “Then you better respect Olivia’s wishes.”

I release an exasperated sigh before nodding in defeat. “Yeah, I guess so,” I say as I turn to gaze out the window, into the city where my beloved is, my heart aching for her.

____________________________________________

Olivia’s POV

The next several days are agonizing without Riff. Without knowing what he’s doing, how he’s feeling, how he’s faring as a result of our separation. Life before Riff was monotonous, but now? Life after Riff and not being able to be with him is dreadful. Every day, I don’t crawl out of bed until the last possible minute because I feel numb. I feel lifeless, limply laying there as memories of us together dance in my mind and torture me. Us laughing at the dance as a result of my inherent clumsiness, wearing his shirts and inhaling his intoxicating scent, me ensconced in Riff’s warm, muscular arms as he clings to me possessively, his lips molding to mine as if I’m his source of oxygen.

Without him, I’m miserable.

When I disclosed my recent misfortunes to Theresa, she was sympathetic and supportive. I could see she was troubled, not only because she now understood my parents viewed her differently, too, but also because she was powerless. As my best friend, she desired to take away my sadness, my crestfallen state noticeable at all times. I assured her that her company is sufficient, but I know she’s dissatisfied with not being able to do a thing.

At home, (if I can even refer to it as that), I feel like a stranger. I might as well be a weary traveler seeking nourishment and a place to rest because lately, that’s all I find there. Mama can still barely look at me and while Papi has no trouble looking at me, it’s often marked by disgust and, worst of all, significant disappointment. Aside from a question or two regarding my shifts at the diner, no words are exchanged between my parents and me.

It’s now Sunday, my day off from work, and we’re all gathered around the table, eating in silence. The shrill scraping of our utensils against our dinner plates pierces the silence, thereby amplifying the discomfort I feel.

“Will you ever forgive me?” I voice softly.

Mama looks up, but ignores my question. “Eat your dinner, Olivia.”

Papi takes a long sip of water before replying. “It’s difficult to forgive someone who shows no remorse for her actions.”

“That’s not true. I’m sorry for lying as long as I did to you and Mama. It was wrong and I know you’re hurt. It hurt me, too.”

“Nonsense. You wouldn’t have continued to deceive us if that’s how you felt.”

“I felt trapped, Papi. What was I supposed to do? Tell you about Riff and have you shut it down without even listening to what I had to say?”

He grits his teeth, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he stabs a piece of broccoli with his fork and chews vigorously, taking his frustration out on his food.

“Would you have even considered Riff? Would he have been invited to our home and offered room at our table? Would you have inquired about his background? His likes and dislikes? His aspirations and intentions with me?”

Papi’s fork clatters to his plate, which makes Mama jump and close her eyes temporarily.

“No. A despicable man like him will never be welcome on our street let alone our home.”

“You claim he’s full of hatred and I won’t deny there’s truth to that. But hatred lies in your heart, too, Papi. How does that make you any better than him?”

“Olivia, don’t speak to your father that way,” Mama warns. “Show respect.”

“I am showing respect. I respect him enough to be honest with him.”

“Where was this need for honesty weeks ago?” Papi eyes me angrily.

“I’m being honest now. You hating Riff based solely on the limited information you know is just as shameful as Riff hating Puerto Ricans based on the limited information he knows. You can argue with me, punish me more, hurl insults at me, but that’s what I believe.” I dab the corners of my mouth with my now rumpled napkin and toss it on my plate before standing up. “I’m no longer hungry,” I state and carry my plate to the sink.

With my back turned to my parents, I turn on my heel and face Papi once more before retreating to my room. “You say you’re ashamed of me for my behavior. Well that makes two of us.” These words hang in the hair as I go into my room, shut the door, and lay sprawled across my bed, weeping for what feels like the umpteenth time.

____________________________________________

It’s now Thursday, meaning it’s officially been a week since I’ve seen Riff. A tiny part of me was hoping the gaping hole in my heart would shrink with each passing day or, at the very least, become more tolerable. Despite my hoping, the void that only Riff can fill has been magnified and I need to see him. I mentally weigh my options, knowing that if I disobey my parents, our relationship may never be repaired. Conversely, if I don’t see Riff, my heartache will consume me. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

My shift at the diner begins at 3:00, but I’m not in the proper headspace to work today. I feel awful calling out ill from work when I’m physically able to be there. As for my emotional state? I’m a complete wreck.

After breakfast, I walk leisurely in the park and absorb my surroundings. An older woman feeding the greedy pigeons, two children having a picnic with their parents, and then…I see it. A younger couple, a little older than Riff and me, sitting on a bench. The woman is talking animatedly about something and the man beside her is gazing at her intently, his grin so wide that I can’t help but wonder if his face will be permanently stretched out as a result. He moves his hand to brush it against her cheek and their tender expressions cause tears to well in my eyes.

The lyrics I sang to Riff only a couple weeks ago at the karaoke bar enter my mind. “What’s the difference if I say I’ll go away when I know I’ll come back on my knees someday…” I blink back my tears and begin to make my way out of the park. I’ve made my decision and there’s no going back now.

____________________________________________

Adrenaline is coursing through my veins as I stand in front of Riff’s apartment door. I intend to knock politely, but my intentions are tainted by the emotion burning in my body. My small, but mighty fist pounds on the door and within seconds, it flies open. Tony.

“What the hell?” he asks.

I don’t even wait to be invited in; instead, I brush past him, looking around.

“Is he here?” I ask frantically.

“No…he’s out.”

“Where?” I ask, my frantic state only heightening.

“I have no idea. What are you doin’ here?”

“I have to see Riff. This time apart has been torturous.”

“Won’t your parents be pissed?”

“Livid. But I’m more concerned what will happen if I distance myself from Riff any longer.”

Tony scratches his head and makes a face equivalent to “Yikes.”

“Well, it’s almost 2:00 and I need to leave in a few minutes for my shift at Doc’s. You’re welcome to stay here until Riff gets home.”

I nod and hold myself, shaking from the adrenaline that has yet to subside. “Thanks, Tony. I didn’t mean to barge in like that.”

“Look, I may not be in love, but what you and Riff have is real and I’m rootin’ for ya.” He smiles sincerely at me before ducking into his room to finish getting ready. I relocate myself to the couch and it’s now sinking in that I’ve never sat on this couch before despite the many times I’ve been here. Riff and I have always ended up in his bedroom…my new favorite place to be…well, it rivals Riff’s arms.

Tony exits his bedroom and turns around to face me before walking out the door to Doc’s. “You know, I was always hopin’ I could somehow talk some sense into Riff and save him, but I couldn’t. You saved him instead.” His mouth forms a thin line and then he leaves, the door shutting with a soft click.

No, I think to myself. We saved each other.

I attempt to distract myself by turning on the TV. Maybe meaningless noise will drown out the barrage of thoughts assaulting my mind. Perhaps it’s the emotional strain this past week has placed on me or that I’ve seldom slept, but I drift off to sleep and when my eyes open again, it’s completely dark. I sit up on the couch, fumbling for my phone, and see it’s 9:13. I’ve been out for six hours and Riff still isn’t home. I decide that at the very least, I can turn on a light while I continue to wait.

I’m restless on the couch and carry myself to the window as the sudden urge to see the city takes over me. It’s lit up, a beacon of hope in the midst of the darkness that envelops it. I lean my head against the window and sigh wistfully as I reflect upon Tony’s words from earlier. Maybe this is what I do for Riff…provide him with light…and if that’s the case, how could I ever part ways with him?

The jingle of the lock breaks me from my thoughts and I look to the door to see what appears to be a tired and slightly disheveled Riff amble through the door. I don’t speak, wondering how long it will take him to notice my presence.

He rubs his eyes and warily looks by the window, his lifeless eyes irritated and bloodshot before he does a double take. His eyes come alive at the sight of me and without warning, I run the short distance to him and launch myself into his arms.

Riff releases a light grunt as he catches me and I wrap my legs securely around him, burying my face into the crook of his neck and breathing him in.

He tugs on my nape and brings my face close to his. “Am I dreaming?” he whispers against my lips.

“No,” I whisper in return. “I’m here, honey.”

I begin peppering his face with kisses, desperate to convey how much his absence has affected me, how much I adore him. He interrupts my actions by turning my chin towards him and kissing me. Tenderly at first and then feverishly. My body hums in response to him and I weave my hands in his hair. I match his passion and a rush of excitement surges through my entire body.

“Riff,” I whisper.

“Olivia,” he whispers in return.

We’re both panting as we exchange longing looks filled with desire. He continues to hold me in place with my legs hooked around his waist.

“I love you, Riff. And I’m confident I’ll always love you. You’re mine forever.”

“I’ll gladly be yours forever, Olivia. I love you, baby. So damn much.”

“Show me,” I say softly.

He looks at me and I sense he’s questioning what I’m insinuating.

“I want you to make love to me, Riff, and I want to make love to you.”

“Are you sure? I know this means a lot to you and it should. The last thing I want is for you to have regrets.”

I grab his nape in order to bring him closer to me. “Where you’re concerned, regrets don’t exist. I want this, Riff, and I’m ready. Please. Make love to me.”

I press my nose against his and delicately rub his cheeks with my fingers.

The corners of his mouth turn up into an impish smile before replying. “I don’t have to be asked twice. Especially when I want this as much as you.” He presses his lips to mine, caressing them and taking his time with me.

He begins to walk us towards his bedroom with me in his arms and when we arrive, he sits me on the edge of his bed. He turns on his bedside lamp and begins to remove his shirt from his body before I gently place my hand on his arm. His movements still and he looks at me with concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

I stand up slowly. “Yeah, it’s just…” I bite my lip, reluctant to reveal the reason behind my previous action. “I…want to be the one to undress you.” Immediately, I feel color rise to my cheeks and cover them bashfully.

“Hey, hey,” Riff says softly. He pries my hands away from my face and pulls me by my hips so that we’re pressed against each other. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. Everything we do tonight is special to me and I want to make this memorable for you, too. Okay?” He tucks his fingers under my chin so that we’re making eye contact.

I nod and smile.

“Now. Where were we?” he asks, a playful grin plastered on his face.

My fingers slowly move to the hem of his t-shirt and he raises his arms as I lift up his shirt. I toss it to the floor without breaking my gaze from Riff. I marvel at his taut stomach and defined abs. Now heat is rising to my cheeks for a different reason.

My hands travel to his chest and I press my lips against it several times. When I look up between kisses, Riff’s eyes are shut and his head is tipped slightly backwards.

I then begin to move lower, unbuttoning his jeans and then sliding down his zipper. Riff helps me in pushing down his pants so that he now remains in black briefs.

“Your turn,” he whispers sweetly and seductively and I’m left marveling at how he’s able to achieve this combination.

“Actually…I was hoping you’d do it.” I peer at him with shy eyes and a shaky breath leaves his body.

Wordlessly, Riff slowly pulls down my off-the-shoulder top, exposing my shoulders, and kisses each one before pulling it down further, thereby revealing my strapless bra.

“So beautiful, Olivia.”

I blush at his words, loving that I’m able to elicit this response from him.

He bends down to remove my shorts and when he’s stripped me of them, he kisses my thighs so sensually that I begin to tremble with satisfaction. I’ve always been self-conscious about my thighs, but with the way Riff is treating them, I no longer view them with such disdain.

He gently lays me on his bed and before I know it, we’re completely bare. I’m in the most vulnerable position I’ve ever been in and although I was expecting to feel petrified, I don’t feel anything remotely close to this. Instead, I feel relaxed and content because the man I love is gazing at me with such adoration and devotion in his eyes that there’s no need for me to feel anything else.

“I love you, Olivia. Forever.”

I love you. Forever, Riff.”

And then, time stops. Riff explores my body, touching and kissing me everywhere he can possibly reach, intertwining his hands with mine, proving how much I mean to him. I return these sentiments and revel in the entanglement of our bodies, unable to determine where we begin and end. Throughout our intimate experience, Riff constantly asks if I’m okay and if I want to stop. I assure him I’m where I want to be. Every. Time.

When we’re finished, he coaxes me into his arms and lays his head in the crook of my neck, breathing softly against me. “Thank you for seeing me, tonight, Olivia,” he whispers. “And for giving me my best memory yet.”

I slightly turn my head and kiss his cheek. “Think of all the memories we’ve yet to make.”

“Mmmm…” he drawls sleepily. “I can’t wait to dream about ‘em tonight.”

“Me, too, Riff,” I yawn. “Me, too,” I sigh happily before pure exhaustion and my purely euphoric state consume me.

@inkandpen22 @riffheartsgraziella @loverisi @westsidelegendary @sondheim1fan @ilovey0us0 @grxceordxr @dellaspinstales @jillo0315 @drowninginaseaofbooks @theforgottenmcrmy @shitemylife @disguisedbassethound

#west side story 2021 #riff #latina #mike faist #west side story fanfic

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buttterknifeee · 2 years

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Masks- Teen Titans X Aquagirl! Reader

Masterlist

Request: "Can you do the episode when they find out Red X is Robin?" Summary: Robin seems a little more emotionally distant than usual. Is he holding a secret or what? (S1 Ep9) Pairings: Robin!Dick grayson x reader Word count: 4,785 A/N: Hey sorry I haven't posted a fic in forever school and work have kept me really busy!!! I'm still working on episode inserts in my ask box so if you submit any of those I'll probably take longer to get to them!!! (However I will be able to get to headcanon and blurb requests quicker!)

“This is just like a James Bond movie,” you whisper, latched onto the ceiling of a room, covered by the shadows. You and the Titans watch as one of Slade’s henchmen reaches for a computer chip in the middle of the room. The henchman is about to grab the chip when Robin announces his presence. “Tell Slade if he wants this, he can come get it himself!” He jumps from his hiding spot and kicks the henchman down. You jump out of your hiding spot only for a second before a laser barely grazes your arm. You look up and see a circle being burned into the ceiling by the lazer. The chunk of the ceiling falls and a sea of henchmen pour out, diving onto you and your teammates. You face off with one of the henchmen; he has a suit similar to Slade’s aesthetic with the black suit and metal embellishments. However, instead of Slade’s half orange mask, the henchman has an orange circle in the middle of its mask. You flick open the canister at your belt. Sometimes (like right now) you’ve been in situations where summoning water from the ocean or underground had been too risky, so now you opt for keeping some water on hand. You raise the small blob of water into the air and shoot your arm out at the henchman. The water separates and lengthens into little shards and whizzes straight towards the henchman. The first few water-projectiles miss the henchmen as he dodges, but the last one hits him right in the chest. The henchmen almost crashes into another henchmen, who quickly dodges and fires a laser above you. You assumed he missed until you noticed the giant computer lens hanging above you, getting hit by the laser. You barely have any time to react when Robin slams into you, pushing you away as the giant lens crashes on to where you were just standing. You and Robin groan from the impact when you look up to see three more henchmen, lasers about to fire. Suddenly, a large computer shelf crashes into them from the side, courtesy of Cyborg, who you see dusting his hands off at the side. “Amazing what you can do with computers these days,” he said. You run back into the fight, taking down guards with your powers, your seashell necklace glowing as you swing at your opponent, the water acting as a third arm. You hold yourself well on your own until you see a henchman dodge Cyborg and Starfire's shots, snatching the computer chip they were here for. He makes a dash for the exit and you bolt after him. Robin, who was in front of you, threw a birdirang at the thief. It hits the henchman’s hand and the computer chip goes flying into the air. “Mine!” Beast Boy yells. He jumps and turns into an anteater, catching the chip with his now elongated tongue. As he skids to a stop at the edge of the room when a henchman jumps down onto his tongue. He yelps in pain, releasing the chip. The henchman grabs it, and retreats back to his team of other henchmen. You grit your teeth as one of them throws down a smoke bomb and disappears. “That tasthed thso nasthy,” Beast Boy says, recovering from his stomped-on tongue. Robin runs ahead. “Titans Go!” he yells. You help Beast Boy up before running after the Boy Wonder. You end up in a hexagonal room with openings on all sides. “Split up!” he orders, and the four other Titans run in a room of their own. You were the last to leave with Robin, when he stopped you. “In there.” he says, staring at the grate in the ground. You peek through: under the grate was a dark sewer, leading to who knows where. Nevertheless, you nodded, raising your arm at the grate. The water under it rose, pushing the grate out of its place. You relax your arms and Robin jumps into the sewer, and you follow. You and Robin run side by side through the sewer, the hench man right in front of you. He turns and shoots a laser at the two of you. You both dodge, and Robin throws a birdirang again at the henchman, but this time he dodges, destroying it with a laser. You try to shoot jets of water at him, but he manages to dodge all of them. You clench your fists and focus on the part of the tunnel in front of the henchman. A wall of

sewage water erupts in front of the henchman, blocking him from continuing. But without any thought, the computer chip thief skids and changes direction, taking off into a branch tunnel. You almost crash into the Boy Wonder before you both change directions yourselves. The henchman throws something over his shoulder; a small metallic device. You yelped and pulled Robin back as the device exploded, blocking off the henchman’s escape route with debris. You watched the henchmen through a hole in the debris wall as he walked towards the end of the tunnel and faced the wall. He takes out his lazer again and carves a hole in it, kicking it to reveal the sewer was at the edge of a mountain, clear skies and greenery surrounding it. You raised your fists, tendrils of water rising with you. You held yourself in a poised position, ready to break the rock barrier. Suddenly, Starfire rises up from outside, stopping middair to face the henchman. “I am asking you nicely to stop running and-” she begins, but was off by the henchman shooting her in the chest. Robin yells, and you break the rock barrier. He runs towards the edge and immediately jumps off. He pulls out two grapple guns and shoots one at the henchmen, who had activated some type of jet pack shoes, and Starfire, who was falling unconsciously to the ground. You ran to the edge of the tunnel opening to see Robin and flung around with Starfire swinging around with a grappling hook. You jump down to help Starfire, who Robin had lost grip of after being dragged around by slade’s henchman himself. You hold her up as she spits out a fish, soaking wet. “You alright?” you ask, crouched next to her. You notice Robin a few feet away from you, holding the henchman by his collar. He seemed angrier than usual. “Now talk!” he snapped, pulling the henchman closer. “Who’s Slade? Why does he want this chip?” Robin looked like he was about to kill the guy. “And why are you working… for… him?” The anger leaving Robin’s voice brings your attention from Starfire. He’s holding the mask the henchman was wearing and under it was… a computer screen? It seemed to be a video of Slade standing in the shadows. You stepped up behind him. “Excellent work, Robin, Aquagirl as well.” he said calmly behind the screen. The mention of your name made the hairs on the back of your neck jump. “Slade.” Robin gritted his teeth. “Really, I think your skills are improving.” the villain continued. “No more games! What do you want?” Robin yelled. “But you do lack patience. If you're really so curious about my intentions, perhaps we should meet face to face.” “As if we’d fall for that-” you begin, but the boy wonder interrupts you. “Tell me where you're hiding and I'll be there in a heartbeat!” he glared at the screen. “Patience, Robin. Patience.” And with that the screen goes dead, sparks flying everywhere. Robin turned to face you, an angry scowl plaster on his face. . You find yourself back in the Tower, everyone in their own chipper mood. Well, except for you. After the Slade’s little video message went dead, you quietly scooped up a dazed Starfire and made your way back to the Tower, a silent Robin following you behind. You didn’t ask why he reacted the way he did, or why he wanted to meet up; he would probably make up some lame excuse anyway. You were dozing off on the couch next to Raven when Beast Boy slid into the room, holding some VHS tapes. “So, my fellow couch potatoes,” the green teen grinned. “what'll it be? Super Ninja Showdown Eight or Maniac Fury: Attack of the Protozoids?” “Wow, this is a hard decision,” you joke lazily. “Yeah. They just sound so good.” Raven adds sarcastically. “Yeah, we should just watch them both!” Cyborg says cheerily. Starfire perks her head up. “Perhaps Robin would enjoy potato-ing the couch with us. Tell me, is he--?” Starfire asks, but Beast Boy answers before she could finish. “-In the exact same place he's been since his little chat session with Slade? Uh, yeah.” Beast Boy grumbles. Cyborg nudges

you with a metal finger. “Yo A.G., I nominate you to talk to Robin,” he grinned. You stared at him in shock while the others murmured in agreement. “Wha- Why me? What about Starfire? They get along well, she can talk to him,” you argued. Starfire's eyes widen; it's been obvious since day 1 that she has a crush on him; and even though you think he's cute, you would probably never admit it. “It has to be you; you were the one who saw the video too, duh” Beast snorted, flopping down on the couch. Cyborg nodded and Raven, well Raven has been reading her book this whole time. You glanced back at Starfire, who was now staring daggers at you and sighed. “Jeez, fine whatever.” . You find Robin in his room, or his conspiracy workshop, there was no difference. His walls were covered with tons of papers: news clippings, pictures, notes, all about various villains. You see him staring at something on his desk, the robot parts of Slade’s mechanical henchman. “Hey, Robin.” you called gently from his door frame. He predictably flinches at you, probably breaking his train of thought. “We’re all gonna watch a movie together, wanna join-” You ask, but Robin is quick to decline. “No. uh. Thanks. I just need to find out why Slade wanted that chip.” Robin says, still engrossed in his work. You rolled your eyes. “I get it man.” you say. “But maybe the best thing to do right now is rest. Beast Boy’s putting on a double feature for us: two terrible action movies if you wanna watch?” you offered. “I can't.” “Dude.” Robin walks up to face you at the door. “I just- you saw the video too. We don’t know what he’s planning and I have to find out before more people get hurt.” “But-” Before you could finish, Robin closes the door on you. dick, you thought, leaving the hall. You’re with the rest of the Titans later that night, on the roof of a building. Almost an hour into Beast Boy’s action movie, you get a call about the computer chip from before being stolen again; this time someone other than a henchman. You purse your lips, looking at the screen on Cyborg’s robotic arm. It's Robin, much calmer than earlier. “I'm working a Slade lead on the far side of town. Sure you guys can handle this without me?” he asks. “No problem!” Cyborg reassures him, and the screen goes out. Right as the call with Robin ends, you hear a noise from a few feet away, and a guy in a stealth suit climbs out of a skylight. Cyborg warms up his cannon as he approaches you. He was dressed in head-to-toe black, with a black tattered cape to match. He had a skull mask and bright red ‘X’ marks on his mask, chest, and arms. “You working for Slade, tough guy?” Cyborg yells, aiming his cannon at the thief. “Red X works alone.” the mystery thief says, his voice obviously distorted. Wow, I would have never been able to come up with a name like that, you thought sarcastically as Red X charged towards you and the other Titans. You figured it would be an easy fight, I mean, 5 vs. 1 seems pretty obvious. But you were sorely mistaken. Somehow, Red X knew all of your teammates' weaknesses. He trapped Beast Boy in a giant sticky ‘X’, and none of the animals he turned into could set him free. Starfire and Raven almost take him down, but Red X throws two of his ‘X’ shurikens. One of them wrapped around Starfire’s arms, causing her to fall from mid air. The other sticks to Raven’s mouth, preventing her from reciting her incantations. That left you and Cyborg. Cyborg charged forwards, but the thief was too fast. One rewiring of his circuits left him defenseless, and you standing off against him alone. Without warning, Red X threw a shuriken at you. You quickly dodged and opened your water canister, meeting his next throw with a blast of water. The shuriken explodes midair, but you keep blasting, ready to defeat the thief. As the water reached him, he held up something in the palm of his hand. Before you were able to see what it was, electricity shot out. Here’s a quick note; if you ever encounter lightning or electricity, DO NOT be wet when

doing so. You’ll see why.

When the electricity met the water, it traveled straight up the jet and to your hand. Electricity surged through your body as you let out a scream.(being electrocuted was not fun) You fell to your knees as Red X stepped back, and scurried away. “Yeah, you better run!” yelled Cyborg, who was recovering from Red X’s circuitry work. “A.G. you alright?” You huffed as you stood up from the pain. “Yeah..I just.. need to go back.. to the tower.. Ow.” You helped the other’s up, but something still bothered you. Who was that guy? The morning after, you all debriefed what happened to Robin. You were still sore from last night, but you tried not to show it. “I had no idea Red X would pose such a threat. I should've been there.” he said. “You bet you should've been there. Look what he did to my 'do!” Best Boy whined, pointing to his hair. Starfire was snipping away at it, the only way to get the red gunk out of his hair. “I'm looking at two months of bad hair days!” “You’re having a bad hair day?” you say, poking at your hair, its ends burnt to a crisp. “My hair is fried; literally!” You hear muffled yelling and turn your view to Raven, whose mouth was still wrapped in a bright red ‘X’. “I don’t know, Raven. That’s kinda a good look for you.” Beast Boy jokes, Raven glaring daggers at him. Cyborg stepped up to her examining the adhesive. “Hold still…” he murmurs. You looked away as he removed the tape in one go, making a large RIP sound as a result. You peek back to see Raven staring unemotionally, a large red welt the shape of an ‘x’ where the adhesive used to be. “Ow.” she says, surprisingly calmly. “Even if you had been there, it wouldn't have made any difference.” “Dude knew exactly how to bring each of us down. I guarantee he had a gadget with your name on it.” Cyborg said. “Agreed. You need not feel guilt. We are undamaged.” Starfire reassures. “Hel-lo?” Beast Boy says, pointing to his hair. “Mostly undamaged.” Starfire corrects herself with a smile. “And we are all eager to learn what you have discovered about Slade.” “Nothing. Lead was a dead end. I should get back to work.” Robin says, almost immediately leaving the room. You furrowed your brows. The rest of the Titans murmured to themselves then left the room. You were about to leave when you noticed a pain in your foot. You looked down, finding your right ankle to be swollen and purple. You probably didn't heal it properly the last time you hurt it (see Ep.8) . You got a glass of water from the kitchen and poured it on your ankle. You waved your hand over it, and the injury began to glow. Once the glowing stopped, you checked it; it was still swollen, and the purple faded only a little. You groaned.You thought you got the whole water-powers thing down, but apparently not. You tried to stand on it, but it started to hurt by the minute. You should probably get someone to help you wrap it up. And you knew exactly who to talk to. You stood in front of Robin’s room about to knock. You figured that, hey, he’s the only team member that doesn’t have super powers, so he's pretty used to injuries like this. And you really wanted to talk to him, especially after what happened yesterday. Robin opened his door to you standing on one foot, the other one slightly raised above the ground. “Hey,” you grinned. “Can you help me with something?” One awkward montage later, you sat on a chair, your foot freshly bandaged. You stared at a newspaper clipping in his room, a bright red string connecting it to a picture of Slade. “You’re really dedicated to this Slade guy huh?” you say aloud. “If by dedicated you mean dedicated to taking him down, then yeah.” Awkward silence. You put your shoe back on and stood up, testing your ankle. It felt like you never hurt it. “Works like a charm! Thanks Boy Wonder.” you smile. He smiles back and you leave the room. The rest of the day sped by; you sat around, did some chores, etc. You barely realized that it was nighttime when you received a message from Robin to meet

in the main room. You found the other four Titans and the rest of you made your way over to the main room. “Okay, Robin, what's the...?” Cyborg began, but you all soon realized that Robin wasn’t even there. “Robin?” Starfire called out. “You mean Captain Research? Ah, he's probably filling out note cards at the public library.” Beast Boy yawned. Suddenly you heard a voice from the speakers. “I was.” Robin’s face blipped onto the screen. You snickered as Beast Boy almost jumped out of his skin. “But then I spotted Red X pulling a robbery in the tech sector.” Robin continued. “I'm on it. Get here as soon as you can!” You find yourself once again on the roof of a building, waiting for action; except this time you know what happens when you encounter the guy you’re looking for. “There!” Cyborg yelled, pointing at something in the distance. You watch Red X running across the rooftops, Robin right behind him. You watched in horror as the thief threw some kind of net at Robin, sending him tumbling to the ground. “Robin!” you yell, the five of you running to free him. But he puts his hand out to stop you. “I’m fine! Get X! Go!” he yells. You reluctantly leave, following the direction Red X fled. You see him jump into a subway station, and follow him close behind. The subway station was dimly lit, easy for a thief like Red X to hide in the shadows. “I've adjusted my ocular implant to scan at multiple sub-harmonics in the EM spectrum” Cyborg says, focusing on the computer at his bionic arm. “'Kay...do you come with subtitles?” Beast Boy asks, confused. “My eye should spot him even if he's invisible.” Cyborg says, his robot eye shining red. He scans the room before getting hit by someone, flying back a few meters. “It's him,” Raven says, now in a fighting stance. Red X appeared behind Cyborg, attempting to hack his systems again. You remember Cyborg working on something after the battle from yesterday, and smile as you see he remains unfazed. “You're gonna have to learn some new tricks, dog.” He throws the thief over his shoulder, him landing on his feet in front of you. “Surrender! We do not wish to fight you!” Starfire offers. “Sorry, I'm not through with you yet.” Red X says, throwing another X at her, but this time Raven blocks it. The fighting commences, you and Cyborg team up on him, but he dodges Starfire’s lunge at him, causing your two teammates to crash into each other. You dodge his attacks, yanking on his cape to pull him off balance. You were about to deliver the final blow when he grabbed your arm. You brace for him to punch you or even throw you over his shoulder but he kicks at your right ankle. You soon realize why, the pain in your ankle re-blossoming. If he had kicked in the other ankle you wouldn’t have been fazed, but all the pain from before had come back, even worse this time. He lets go of you, and you fall to the ground, clutching your ankle in pain. Raven helps you up and you watch helplessly as Beast Boy takes on Red X. The thief kicks him onto the train tracks, and you gasp as a train comes near. Suddenly, Red X jumps down, grabs Beast Boy by the collar and leaps onto the other side of the subway station. The train passes by, making your hair sweep in one direction, but also blocking your view of Beast Boy and the thief. Once the train leaves, you spot Beast Boy on the ground and Red X once again making his leave. Starfire flies Cyborg over and Raven flies you over to Beast Boy. “Beast Boy! You are undamaged?” she asks, helping him up. Starfire asks. “Who is that guy?” Beast Boy says, staring at the exit. . Back at the Tower the rest of the Titans were talking about Red X, but you couldn’t get something off of your mind. The only person who knew about your ankle was Robin, and this Red X guy somehow knew exactly where to hit it. It’s not like there are security cameras up in the tower, much less would be in Robin’s room. Well, if you think about it, Robin definitely has the agility to match Red X’s. Not to mention the gadgets, the mask, the voice modulator; that’s all

something he would do. And when Red X saved Beast Boy… any other villain would have let him get obliterated by that train, but he saved him? That must mean… “Robin!” Starfire’s notice of Robin’s arrival snaps you out of your thoughts. “Wonderful! Our efforts to locate the Red X will benefit greatly from your help.” “It'll have to wait. I'm close to a breakthrough with Slade.” He said. You eyed the box he was holding. What could be in there? The group goes back to talking, but you decide to confront him. You saw him hurry into his room, not noticing you right behind him. Wasting no time to knock, you slam the door open. "Robin!" You yell, obviously surprising him. He jumps, dropping his box of stuff. A ton of gadgets fall out, and he quickly turns to you. You spare the details. "You're Red X, aren't you?" You ask, crossing your arms. "What? No I have no idea what you're-" Suddenly one of the gadgets from the box lights up, and a hologram of Robin appears, repeating something you recognize. "I'm fine! Get X! Go! I'm fine! Get X! Go!" "... this is really embarrassing for you Rob." "I-I promise I have an explanation for everything but I really need to-" "What the FUCK could you possibly need to do right now that's more important than this? Than what you did??" You raised your voice, and Robin sighed. "I really need to do this." He said quietly. "It's to keep you and the rest of the team safe I swear. Please just don't tell the rest of the team." You frowned. You were angry, more than angry. But he seemed really distressed about this thing he needed to do. "Fine." You grumbled, staring at the floor. You didn't know what else to say than 'fine. He grimaced; his way of saying thanks. He walked out of the room, leaving you and his hologram. You stared at his face, flickering as the hologram glitches. With your good foot, you crush the gadget, and his hologram blips out. . Somehow, you're on another roof. After you rejoined the rest of the Titans, Cyborg announces that he found a lead on Red X. You didn't tell them what you knew; even if you wanted to, you knew that they would be just as hurt as you were, and you didn't know how to break the news. The five of you wait on Cyborg's mark. After waiting a little, he lasers a hole into the ground and breaks it in, creating an entrance to the room below. You all jump through to find a bunch of robots and Red X/Robin with… Slade? "Titans! Go!" Cyborg yells without processing any of the scene. Raven and Starfire attack one robot, Beast Boy attacking the other. Cyborg grabs the disguised Robin as Slade makes his exit. "Gotcha!" He yells, grabbing his cape. "Cyborg! Let go of him it's-" you yell at him but Red X takes off his mask. "-me!" Robin yells, now revealing his identity to the rest of the team. The rest of the team stops dead in their tracks. "Robin we-" Raven begins, but Robin cuts her off. "Slade's getting away! Come on!" He commands, running in the direction of Slade. However, none or the Titans budge. "Did we just get played by our own teammate?" Beast Boy asked, in shock. "It appears so." Starfire answered. "How did you know Aquagirl?" Raven asked, turning to you. You flinched, forgetting about what you yelled earlier. The robot began to spring back to life, so you all resumed fighting. "You were in on it, weren't you?" Cyborg accuses, punching a robot in the face. "What? No!" You yelled back, dodging a robot laser. "I had a hunch! And it was confirmed! Like, this morning." You added that last part with awkwardness. The last of the robots were defeated so you began to run to catch up with the boy wonder.

"And I didn't say anything because," You huffed, trying to maintain a fast pace. "Well, it's Robin! He's our team leader! As much as I saw it I didn't want to believe it! And he refused to tell me anything anyways but I'm sorry!" The team stopped as you saw Robin dangling off the side of the building, Slade above him. To your surprise, Slade pulled him up and they continued to fight. You saw the computer chips fall out of Slade's grasp and Robin pulling off Slade's mask and- You gasp as his face was revealed: nothing more than a robot again. You rush over to Robin as the robot self-destructs. "Heh. At least he didn't get the chips." Beast Boy says. . Even though you figured out who Red X was and technically put a stop to his actions, you felt even more defeated back at the Tower than before. You finally fixed your ankle for good: all it took was some rest and two hours of concentration and boom! Good as new. There's just one more thing you need to do. You stand in front of Robin's doorway once again. His back is faced towards you, and even though he probably knows you're there, he doesn't turn. "You want to yell at me too?" Robin asks, staring at the Slade mask he hung up. "Everyone else has. And I don't blame them." "No, all the yelling I needed to do was from before. You owe me an explanation." You state simply. "I needed to fool Slade. If you guys knew it was me under that mask, you would've held back. Doesn't matter anyway. Slade figured it out, and I still haven't figured out anything about him." "Well I've personally figured out all I needed to know, you guys are the same. Slade didn't trust you, and you don't trust us." You said. You stopped talking for a while and a silence fell upon the two of you. He still didn't turn. "It really hurt, you know." You began again. "Not just the double-cross; I mean getting my ankle bashed in by someone I care about. You were so worried about keeping us from getting hurt by this Slade guy that you ended up hurting us more yourself." More silence. You were tired. "Tomorrow's a new day. I hope you'll make the right choice then." You said, finally leaving the room.

114 notes · View notes

babbushka · 4 years

Text

Gentle & Soft

(not my gif, i’m very sorry i can’t find credit for it)

007!Reader x Bond Villain!Kylo Ren

3.4k; Cw for injury, hurt/comfort, NSFW (body worship, oral sex, PIV sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation)

Also available on AO3!

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

It happens too quickly, all at once.

Your vision blacks out as your body hits the ground, and you hold on to the last lingering sensations before slipping under. Your memories retain nothing but this moment -- the picture of Kylo Ren’s face twisted with rage as he turns his fury in the form of guns and bullets into the side of an enemy helicopter, the sound of the world whipped in a frenzy around you wind howling in your ear, the feeling of pain as it throbs through your back.

Of all of it, the look on Kylo’s face when he watches you fall, has to be the most striking, but then it’s over, as your eyes close and you soak in the dark warmth of unconsciousness.

You’d been sent to infiltrate the deepest bowels of the Royal Exhibition Building to prevent the theft of a priceless painting which hung in the adjacent museum’s halls. For the first time in a long time, Kylo Ren wasn’t the suspected target, suspected thief, and for that you were thankful – Ren was far too smart, had far too many backup plans should anything go array.

Whoever this newcomer was, this new criminal on the scene, they weren’t nearly as refined, weren’t nearly as polished. Which is how you found yourself running at top speed after this henchman, a man with shockingly red hair hidden behind a black knit cap, bolting across the roof of the building. You know he’s not the main target, the mastermind they call Snoke is hiding behind the scenes, but you figure this redhead is worth enough to bring in for questioning, if only you can catch him.

“You won’t get away!” You shout after him, and he throws you a glance over his shoulder as he jumps from roof to roof, you right on his heels.

He’s quick, but you’re quicker, and though he can climb well, so can you. You chase him, blood pounding pounding pounding in your ears as you shoot a grappling hook out of the gun on your artillery belt, your black bodysuit doing wonders to protect you from the rough texture of the brick architecture as you climb climb climb after him.

You’re close, so close, there’s nowhere for him to go you, think with a sense of victory as you force him to climb the spire of the dome, when suddenly out of nowhere, twin helicopters race towards you. You recognize neither of their designs, but you assume that one must be for you, and one must be for him, this redhead.

Their choppers whip up the wind fiercely, and the force of it knocks both you and the redhead henchman off your feet. You both lose your footing and fall down the sloped walls of the dome, your hands scraping and scrabbling for purchase.

“Shit! Shit – no!” You grunt out in pain as your body slams into the side of the building, your built-in climbing harness yanking you around from the tension of the grappling hook as it works to prevent you from falling entirely.

You manage to grab a hold of the rim of the dome as the helicopters circle you and the henchman where he too is dangling by his own rope rig. The sound is deafening, the circulating whoosh of the chopper ringing in your ear, especially as it comes closer. Mi6 couldn’t have had better timing you think, until you spare a frantic glance to the man hanging out of the helicopter and extending his hand out to you, and you recognize him as no one from the Agency at all.

“Agent – climb in!” Kylo shouts over the noise, headphones protecting his ears as he reaches for you.

“What – ? Fuck!” Your eyes are wide, not expecting to see him whatsoever – until the world becomes a blur, the grappling hook unlatches from its purchase.

The force of the winds from the chopper are enough to make your arms lose their purchase too, leaving your body to fall fall fall down the side of the building.

And as you scream, everything goes black.

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

There’s no way of knowing, how long you’re out for. It could have been days, a week, or a month for all you knew. At first, you’re not entirely sure you’re alive, not entirely sure you’ve made it – but then you remember you’ve fallen off of higher buildings, have scaled more dangerous heights, and really, you think as you wince and blink awake, it’ll take more than a three-hundred foot fall to take you out.

But you do blink awake, and you are thankful for that, even more thankful when you see you are not in a hospital, but instead in a grand master bedroom suite. Around you the world is a soft and diffused white, a product of curtains around the canopy bed frame made of sheer mosquito netting, light reflecting off the crisp white sheets made of a beautifully high quality thread count.

That same light forms around the silhouette of a man you’d recognize anywhere, a man brought to your side by the sounds of subtle shifting around as you try your best to sit up. Kylo gently pushes you back down to rest for a while longer, ducking through the canopy curtains and sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Thank god you’re awake.” He whispers, afraid to talk too loud, not wanting to startle you. “How do you feel?”

You’re not so delicate though, and you sit up anyway, lean against the headboard for support. Surprisingly, you’re not sore at all, and when you look down at your limbs you don’t see any bruising. You must have been knocked out for a long time then. Still, you groan because you’re just so emotionally drained, even after just waking up.

“Like I got hit by a truck.” You reply honestly, cracking your stiff joints in a way that has Kylo wincing, the popping loud in the quiet of the room, the room in…You look at Kylo and frown ever so slightly, curious enough to ask, “Where am I?”

That’s a gamble, the asking. Usually he doesn’t tell you, on the occasions where he kidnaps you and whisks you away to some remote place. He seems to be in a good enough mood to tell you this time though, because he runs his fingers through your hair and sighs, divulges this secret information rather easily.

“My house in Tasmania, it was the closest place I could take you after the Melbourne fiasco.” He sounds remorseful, which you find interesting. In the years that you’ve known Kylo, you’ve never seen him so glum, not even when you locked him up in prison.

You slide back under the covers enough so that you can shuffle over, patting the recently vacated space in the massive bed, an invitation for him to join you. It’s then that you realize you’re wearing a silk nightgown and nothing else, and if this were any other man, you’d be embarrassed at the realization that he dressed you. However, this is not any other man, this is, for all intents and purposes, your man, and he happily sheds the layers of his suit until he’s wearing nothing but his boxers and sock garters, and slides under the covers with you.

“Are you angry with me?” Kylo has to ask, as he pulls you gently to rest against his chest, your face tucked underneath his chin.

“Hm? No, not angry.” You huff out a little laugh, because you really should be. You should be furious with him, for compromising your mission that way – except…he hadn’t compromised it, not really. He had saved you, and for that, “I’m grateful.”

Kylo pulls away a little to look at you for that comment, that admission. Poor thing must have been worrying about that the entire time you were knocked out, you realize. You give him a soft smile, as your hand comes up to cup his scarred cheek.

He turns his face into your palm and kisses the pads of your fingers, his eyes closed, lashes thick and soft as they brush against your wrist when he kisses down down down your arm.

“I didn’t think we’d ever be here, like this.” You whisper, growing fond, sentimental. The more you think about it, the happier you are that you’re here with him, with him and not in some stuffy hospital with Mi6. You’re not so sure they would have come to your rescue the way that Kylo had, the way Kylo always seems to do.

“Me neither, but I’m glad we are. I’m glad we’re here together.” Kylo agrees.

You’re both so soft in this moment, so soft spoken, as the morning light spills into the bedroom. Nothing but beautiful hazy white fills the large expanse, and the domesticity of it all doesn’t slip past you. You can’t help but let a dry laugh exhale through your nose as he combs your hair back with his hands, wraps pieces of it around his fingers.

“We’re not very good at this whole, sworn enemies thing, are we?” You hum, letting your eyes close, letting yourself bask in the beauty of being alive, of being alive with him.

“Well that’s not my fault.” Kylo mutters, making you crack open an eye again and look at him expectantly. “It isn’t! It’s all yours.”

“Me?” You laugh, making him roll over on top of you, cage your body underneath his massive arms.

“Yes, you, and you know, sometimes I can’t believe it was you. Out of everyone, you just had to steal my heart.” He presses a wet kiss to your neck, right where your jaw meets your throat, and the sudden sensation tickles enough that you’re laughing louder, your lungs filling properly with air as you gasp down giggles as he continues, “That’s very rude, you know. To steal.”

“Please don’t say you love me.” You grin, a cheeky teasing playful thing you do back and forth. Of course he loves you, of course he does. Just as you love him, wholly and completely, stupidly, dangerously.

But it’s against the rules to say it, so neither of you do.

Neither of you have to.

“Who says I was going to?” Kylo teases back, and you grin at him, smiling at the way his dimples and his teeth light up his whole face, gorgeous body backlit by the sun as the birds of the Tasmanian jungle begin to chirp, the world waking up around you.

“You were always more than just a one night stand to me.” You admit softly, your own way of saying thank you.

“Let me kiss you, please? I want to kiss every inch of your body before I fuck you.” He replies, his own way of saying you’re welcome.

You nod, and Kylo sets to work, dropping open mouthed kisses all across your skin.

He means it when he says every inch, means it when he gathers you in his arms, when he pushes your nightgown over your head, leaving your body naked against the sheets, when he trails his lips up and down your skin. He lavishes love onto your chest and stomach, your hips, your arms and shoulders. He sighs against your legs, whispers sweet nothings into the divot of your ankle and the arch of your feet, the crook of your elbows and knees.

He kisses you and kisses you and kisses you, until it’s all you can do to let your legs fall apart, all you can do to ask him to kiss you there, invite him to lick up through your pussy, for it’s been neglected for far too long. And he goes eagerly, tenderly holds your thighs and presses them apart so he can suck your clit into his mouth.

“Oh!” You sigh happily, biting at your lower lip. Your hands twist in the white cotton sheets, in his hair, in the pillowcase, in everything and anything you can get in your grasp as you lift your hips up up up to better rock against his mouth. His tongue is blazing hot and thick and firm and and and, you sigh and gasp out your pleasure a litany of nothing but his name, nothing but,

“Kylo! Kylo please, please, more.” You plead, and he only hums in response.

He hears you, but it does nothing to make him go quicker, rougher. No, he won’t be rough with you now, not so soon after the injury your body has sustained. This sex will be gentle and soft, will be healing, for your body and your soul. He licks and sucks up your cunt, hands kneading in your thighs, moaning into your pussy as he tastes you for the first time in what has to be ages.

“Oh shit I’m – I’m -- !” You come once, a blissful wash of pleasure over your nerves, relaxing you and making you shudder out, trembling softly, sweetly.

Kylo wastes little time, doesn’t let you recover, before he’s climbing back up your body. Pulling out his cock from his boxers, he rolls you over onto your stomach, your face nestled against the downy-feather pillows as he takes one from the other side of the bed and props your hips up with it.

“I’ve missed this, missed you.” He groans, his cock feels like heaven as he rubs the head of it through your slicked up folds, your come shining and sticky on your inner thighs as it drips onto the sheets. He catches one oozing drip with his cock and pushes it back into you with a groan, using your come as lubricant to thrust all the way inside.

“I’m here, I’m here with you, oh Kylo, yes, please – ” Your body is pliant and relaxed enough for him to have no trouble fitting that massive cock of his in your pussy, a feeling of fullness so wonderful that you gasp and moan just because you love the sensation of it, especially so soon after coming.

He’s just as affected, because now that your back is exposed to him, he kisses all across your shoulder blades. One of his hands rests near yours to hold himself up, and he twines his fingers through yours, the other smoothing around to cup your lower stomach where he fucks you.

It’s not really fucking, no, something this sweet is making love, but all the same, there’s a throbbing pulsing rush of pleasure as he pulls out and thrusts back in, over and over again, kissing at your open mouth, jaw dropped from how good he feels.

“Mm, oh, oh fuck,” Your eyes are closed and little tears cling to your lashes and Kylo comes in you right there because the way the light refracts off your tears, little rainbows scattered across the pillow is too much for him to bear, you’re too beautiful, he’s struck with awe from it.

Luckily, he thrusts and rolls his hips against your ass enough while he comes comes comes inside you to massage at your clit and get you coming again, your ach arching and toes curling from it, head lifting off the pillow in the shock of pleasure. He clamps his teeth down into the crook of your neck and pulls your hips as flush against his own as he can, to make sure not a single drop of his come leaks out, not wanting any of it to go to waste.

“Kylo, please I can’t – I can’t – I need – ” You wriggle in his grip, whining and whimpering as his cock throbs inside you, hips continuing to seek out pleasure even as he gives you everything he has, empties himself inside you. The head of his cock nudges ever so gently back and forth over your gspot, again and again and again, and your elbows cave in, shoulders pinching back as you collapse down against the mattress from a third orgasm, one that takes you both by surprise.

“Ffffuck, thank you, thank you Kylo.” Your pussy clenches and flutters around Kylo’s cock as tears slip down your cheek, and Kylo shushes you softly as he licks them up, massaging and kneading at your breasts, your nipples rubbing against the sheets and spurring your orgasm on longer.

It’s a beautiful sight, and eventually Kylo pulls out, rolls onto his back with a heavy sigh, pulls you to rest onto his chest.

Your hands are pleasure weak, but you lift one anyway to begin drawing little patterns on his chest. You wonder if he would guess what they are, but neither of you have the mental capacity for guessing games at the moment. So instead, you simply trace over his broad and firm chest, over all the scars.

You also throw one of your legs over his waist, and he takes the opportunity to lazily finger you, wanting to keep your nerves alight with pleasure. He slowly, carefully, pushes your mixed come back into your pussy where it begins to slide out, smears it up to your clit. The tip of his finger swirls around the throbbing little bundle of nerves, and he wonders if he can get you to come again just like this.

“I don’t want to go, I don’t want to leave you yet.” You hiccup out a moan, something soft and gentle as he kisses your eyelids.

“You don’t have to, not for a while. We’re completely off the radar, you could stay as long as you’d like. Mi6 won’t know, they won’t find you.” He whispers, as if they’re listening anyway, his fingers massaging your clit some more, smiling against your cheek with the way your breathing is shallow, the way you gulp down air.

“I have to go back eventually, they need me. I’ve got to rid the word of evil criminal masterminds.” You moan, angry with reality, angry with the world. You don’t want to go, you don’t, not when he takes care of you so well, when he lets you be here, when he touches you like this.

“That’s okay, because you know what?” He asks as he thrusts his fingers back into your pussy, thumb still working on your clit as your leg curls around him, as you grind against his muscular thigh, wanting to be closer.

“What?” You gasp, before your entire body tenses up for a moment again, again again again as more pleasure coaxes more tears and more blinding white hot stars to dance behind your eyes as you come on his fingers, “Oh – oh Kylo just a little more – just – yes!”

Kylo grins and just holds you close, holds you through it, his cock hard again from the sounds you make, and he fits it so nicely inside your pussy. He doesn’t thrust, not this time, doesn’t do anything really, just plugs you up with it, a warm reassuring weight inside and out.

He kisses your cheek, kisses your face all over, the corner of your mouth forehead temple nose, anything he can reach as you tremble underneath him.

“One day we’ll retire from these lives we’ve built, and we can be together and not have to worry about anything, maybe you’ll still like me enough to want to be mine, maybe we can build a family together. Raise little evil geniuses and world class spies and terrorize the world with them.” He jokes, except it’s not a joke, not really.

You can hear the truth in his deep voice, baritone thick and beautiful, like syrup in the jungle morning.

“I didn’t take you to be the settling down type.” Is all you say, and he breaks into a handsome grin.

“I wasn’t, not until I met you.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, as if you’re the one constantly being obtuse, “Now, all I can think about is simply holding you.”

It’s his way of saying it, of saying he loves you, you know. Everything about this, everything about the way he treats you is him saying it.

“I’d let you do a lot more than just hold me.” You reply, making him smile.

Because he knows, that as you tuck yourself against him and breathe in time, heartbeats synching up together, that it’s your way of saying it back.

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