The Trademark Normality Clueing In

Written in collaboration with Namichwan

They were dragged through the bustling streets of Republic City, their path winding through the vibrant districts until they reached the grand entrance of the Police Headquarters. The imposing structure stood as a testament to the city's authority, its age and intricate design captivating the eye. Dominating the entrance plaza was a towering statue, an homage to the legendary Blind Bandit turned supreme enforcer of the law: Toph Beifong.

Within the building's hallowed halls, the seasoned grey-haired commander relinquished custody of the captives to a group of subordinates, striding purposefully past a multitude of diligent clerks and administrative staff, all diligently immersed in their paperwork. She vanished through a door at the far end of the bustling chamber, leaving Bran to contemplate the scene.

Feeling a sense of unease creep over him, Bran observed as the guards steered Lotta and Rola in a separate direction, while he was left standing idly with a disinterested officer. The cop, leaning casually against a waist-high railing, seemed content to pass the time with crossed arms and a bored expression, paying little attention to Bran.

“Guess I’ll arrest myself then, eh?” Exhaling an extended muttered complaint under his breath, Bran begrudgingly decided to follow the others, chalking the stupidly moustachioed fella’s behaviour up to the laziness he had encountered all too often among his factory peers. Those loafers who gladly allowed others to shoulder the burden while they enjoyed a leisurely existence.

As they navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the police headquarters, Bran couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was amiss.
Trusting his instincts, he purposefully diverged from the intended path, deliberately challenging the expected course. To his astonishment, no one impeded his progress or even cast a curious glance his way. It was as if his actions held no consequence in their eyes.

Casting a watchful eye upon Rola and Lotta, firmly restrained by their vigilant captors, Bran dared to push the boundaries further. Defiantly stationed just outside the designated cell, he openly questioned the guards' authority.

“I demand a better cell with some actual entertainment! There’s only one babe in there!” He joked, expecting a swift punch to the gut.

Yet, they remained impervious, their indifference palpable as they ushered his companions into the cell. Turning their gaze upon Bran, they held his stare for a fleeting moment before one guard casually wandered off, displaying a lack of concern for Bran's open defiance.

The officer just stared. Door open, expression bored, like he would stay there forever for the criminal to enter of his own free will.

Bran found himself confounded by the whole situation, a mix of bewilderment and twisted amusement coursing through his veins. Yet, an insatiable curiosity drove him to eventually comply, begrudgingly stepping into the confining embrace of the cell with an exasperated huff. The heavy door slammed shut, sealing him within its unforgiving confines.

It was a cramped space that reeked of metal. It wasn't one of those fancy all-metal boxes, thank the spirits, but still, the room was loaded with enough metal to make a bloke's life miserable. The floor, the bars, even the beds—everything was made of the damn stuff. It was like a playground for those metalbending bastards to show off their fancy tricks.

They said metalbending was just advanced earthbending but Bran didn't believe it. No amount of bending, no matter how perfectly he managed the moves, nor how hard and clearly he concentrated had any effect on the supposed earth that was somehow still present in the metal. How the great and almighty Blind Bandit had managed it was beyond him.

Bran figured she just had been born a metal bender and had had the good sense to get her pussy good and rocked early and often, and filled with spunk to fill a small pond. Word on the street was that even the Avatar himself, Aang, had the pleasure of dippin' in Toph's well. Bran couldn't help but appreciate the bald bloke's fine taste, but he cursed the fact that it led to this army of metalbending wankers crawlin' all over the city. Proud Earthbender genetics, but always makin’ trouble for the innocent criminals.

Bran couldn't shake off the lingering feeling of unease as he paced back and forth in the dimly lit jail cell. The events that had unfolded earlier had left him bewildered and questioning his own reality. He observed his companions in the cell, each coping with their predicament in their own way.

Rola, curled up in a fetal position, rocked back and forth, mumbling to himself incoherently. The weight of their arrest seemed to have taken a toll on him, amplifying his already anxious nature. Lotta, on the other hand, sat with her arms crossed, a scowl etched on her face. Her annoyance was palpable, and she seemed irritated by the whole situation. It was clear that she didn't appreciate being confined and was eager to find a way out.

As Bran continued his restless pacing, his mind consumed by the tumultuous thoughts swirling within, he was caught off guard by Lotta's sudden movement from the bench.

“Gah! I can’t believe we were busted on a job that lame! My rep is gonna go down the fucking crapper!”

Startled, he collided with her, his hands instinctively reaching out for balance, unintentionally landing on her ample bosom.
Time seemed to freeze for a brief moment, the air thick with a mix of surprise and awkwardness.

Fear spiked through him. Though they were covered by her thick Agni Kai Triad jacket, these were the tits of the firebender who’d killed a man for barely grazing them… and right now he had both hands on them ready for squeezin’.

So he did, may as well go out doing something you love, right? And Bran loved Lotta’s tits.
The softness before the storm…

As Bran's hands remained firmly planted on Lotta's generous bosom, he couldn't help but feel a mix of confusion and excitement. It seemed that Lotta was completely unperturbed by his touch, her focus elsewhere. "Lotta," he stuttered, his voice tinged with uncertainty, though still giving a few more squeezes for good measure, "Don't you... mind what I'm doing with my hands?"

Lotta's gaze flickered briefly to Bran's hands, her expression unbothered by his continued exploration. She let out a sigh, her attention returning to their predicament. "Bran, how long do you think we'll be stuck in this damn cell?" she asked, her voice tinged with impatience. "I don't give a rat's ass about your hands. I care about finding a way out of here before word gets out how much we fucked up. Maybe see if we can bribe the guards. They can't pay the low-level schmoes much..."

Rola’s laugh was hysterical, “Bribe?! That’s Beifong! The Steel Maiden! There ain’t no way these assholes are gonna cross her! Chief Beifong'll crush their nuts in her big metal fist! We are screwed! Fucked! Dead in the fucking water! No one crosses the Steel Maiden! No one! She can bend steel and stone and fire and lightning and she can fuck you up with her fucking whips and her fucking metalbending!"

That was par for the course for Rola. Bran was far more interested in the fact that his hands were still on Lotta's breasts, their soft warm cloth covered flesh yielding to his touch.
Despite his hands, Lotta was still talking, "Rola, shut up! I'm trying to think!"

“But, Lotta," he persisted, his voice tinged with both curiosity and a hint of frustration, "Shouldn't you at least care that I'm touching you like this?"

Lotta's eyes narrowed, her annoyance palpable. "Bran, do you think I have the luxury to worry about your hands when we're trapped in this metal cage?" she retorted, her tone sharp. "Right now, my priority is getting us out of here, not fussing over what you're doing with your damn hands."

That made a sort of sense, except not really. She hadn’t even mentioned it, was she impervious to understanding what he was doing? One way to solve that.

“LOTTA! I’m! Squeezing! Your! TITS!”

“Thank! You! Captain! OBVIOUS!” She retorted in the same obnoxious yelling Bran had used to try and get through to her. So she had noticed, just didn’t seem to care. Lots of that going around right now…

“Uh, well thanks for letting me squeeze em. I always loved your tits,” He shrugged, really mauling them through the thick fabric. “How does it feel?”

The firebender’s face had been gaining a bit of blush as he’d been groping, “Honestly? They give me back pain so having you carry my girls for a bit ain’t the worst… and your hands are starting to feel alright…” She admitted, a tiny hitch in her breathing when he began bouncing them on his fingertips, “But why are you thanking me? I’m not letting you do anything.”
“...huh?”

“It’s just normal for you to be groping me right now. No need to thank me.”

Okay, normal had just become the word of the day. Bran wasn’t a total fool, he realised something was up with that word ever since he put these earrings on. The ones in the package written ‘Reality Bender’... and right now reality was acting pretty fucking wacky.

“So is it ‘normal’ for me to do… this?”

Bran drew up the bottom of Lotta’s red jacket, ripping her buttons in one swift motion as most of them pinged off and onto the jail cell floor.
What befell his eyes could have had an entire poetry book dedicated to the sight.

Lotta’s tits were even bigger than the jacket had led to believe. Literally jumping free of their confines to press tightly against her thin white tanktop and bounce up and down with a lovely jiggly flair. A black bra was easily seen underneath as the poor girl had clearly been sweating up a storm inside her jacket, which Bran could now fully smell as her stuffy wafts graced his nose. Her immense cleavage was dripping, her tanktop was see through, and the probable F cupped tits looked like they were begging to be wrestled to the ground and fucked. Forbidden jewels.

“Rola! Look away!” Lotta suddenly barked to her side, “I’ll kill ya if you see me right now!” Only Bran gets to look!”

“Aww maaaannnnn…” The other man moaned, turning his fetal position ball form around to face the bars. “Wish I could see boobs…”

With a click of her tongue, the redhead turned her head back to Bran, “There, happy? It’s totally normal for you to do that.”

“Fuckin’ hell…” He mumbled in sheer awe.