#2. 2 of the 3 snaps on my cape broke

[arielluva]

i just love how when me and my friends were trick or treating there was this kid just going “heeheeheehee” in a high pitched voice really fast so all 5 of us started doing it at the same time with the kid just for the funnies lol

[tanoraqui]

Trope prompt: idril/tuor/maeglin, enemies to lovers, castle?

[please give me 2-3 characters + 1-3 tropes!]

(I'm just answering these with the superhero au every time I can't quickly think of a more canon idea. Also, I'm toying with new ideas for Idril's power)

"Verificia, please!" Tuor called, struggling against the cascading sonic blasts. "You have to stop!"

"False!" Idril snapped, and turned the sonic cannon up another notch. "I don't have to do anything! And my name is Light Queen!"

Truth. And she wasn't limited to just her petty power of knowing true statements from false. She'd spent her whole life with access to the research labs of a dozen of the most genius mad scientists on the planet, and when she'd finally decided that she'd had enough, he'd ransacked them on her way out. She stood now at the top of a tower made with Penlod 1's patent-pending Speed-Constructinator, the walls mounted with Saldor's infamous sonic canon, Ecthelion's Tidal Blaster v12.8, Rog's Hammer Gun, and a full basket of Glorfindel's latest explosive flowers.

She threw one of those down, now.

Maeglin threw his hands up, dragging shadow from beneath his feet into a shield above his and Tuor's heads.

"Fine!" her cousin shouted. "But why are are you doing this?"

"Because I'm sick of it!" Idril shouted back (truth), and pelted them with more explosive flowers. The shadows wobbled with each burst of light. "Why should you get to be the rebellious teen villain of our generation, just because you have freaky darkness powers? Why do I have to be the good girl, just because I have a boring, non-combat power? I can beat Frost King in chess!"

"Why does either of you have to be a supervillain?" Tuor demanded.

"You don't understand," Idril said witheringly (truth). "You're just an intern. You don't even have powers."

Maeglin's shadow-shield broke completely. He cried out in pain and squeezed his eyes shut, and raised his cape to generate more darkness.

Tuor pushed past his defensive position, another few feet up the jumbled cliff that Idril had turned into a terrible tower.

"I don't care if I'm just an intern!" he shouted (truth), as Idril got bored with the flowers and hauled the Tidal Blaster into position on her shoulder. "I don't care what powers you have, or I don't!" (Truth). "I love you!"

(Truth.)

Idril's finger hovered over the trigger, which, pulled, would slam anything she aimed at with roughly 900lbs of water.

"You- what?"

[bi-bats]

Know Yourself

The first clue that something was wrong was his safehouse. 

It was a perfectly normal apartment, which was exactly what was wrong. Two hours ago, it had been a rundown Gotham apartment building. Borderline abandoned, from the outside. Now, it was the kind of nice that couldn’t be accomplished in 2 hours without magic. 

Either he just got knocked into an alternate universe, or none of this world was real. 

His comms had been down since the fight, but that wasn’t a surprise, since his helmet was completely fried. A long, singed crack marred the red, running through the brow and one of the eyes.

The fourth safehouse he tried was, in fact, a safehouse, and did in fact belong to him. The tech looked a little different than his, which left him mostly sure that he was in an alternate universe. 

Jay let out a heavy sigh as he started deactivating the security measures. He just wanted somewhere to regroup, to catch his breath and figure out what was going on. 

Two minutes later and three rooftops away, watching smoke pour from his safehouse windows with his hands on his hips, he gave up trying to fix this himself. H resolved to do what he always knew he was going to: find Tim. He would know what to do. Even if they weren’t together in this universe, he would help.

Jay went to the renovated theater, grateful to find his home where he expected it to be. He landed on the roof and located a camera, looking directly at it as he stepped in front of one of the silent perimeter alarms. 

Then he waited. It took longer than he expected, a few minutes maybe, before Tim slipped up over the ledge holding three R-shaped shuriken between his fingers.

Jay tensed into a defensive pose as he assessed him, just in case he decided to through any of those his way.

Instead of the cowl and cape his Tim wore, this Tim had a domino and metal wings. There was obviously something gadgety about them.

His hair was shorter, too. It was cropped on the sides, and the top was spiked up and back, pushed out of his face. It didn’t look bad, but Jay preferred the sloppy bun, the chin length pieces falling around his neck and eyes.

He was also smaller. This Tim was about 15 pounds lighter than the one he’d kissed goodbye 3 hours ago. Jay pushed down the sudden urge to feed him something hearty.

“What are you doing here?” Tim snapped at him, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

Jay raised both hands in the air, the universal gesture for surrender. Tim was upset with him, and he hadn’t even spoken yet. 

“I know you won’t believe me without running, like, 70 tests, but I think I’m in the wrong universe.” 

“And you want me to run them?” Tim asked, the lenses of his domino narrowing.

“I need you to, actually.” 

Tim looked over him, rising slowly from the defensive crouch he’d been holding. Even with the domino in his way, he could see the distrust scratched into Tim’s features. 

It made Jay’s chest hurt.

“No.” Tim broke the silence. “Get off my roof, Jason.”

“What?” Jay asked, disbelieving, flinching at the use of his full name. Tim ignored him and kept backing towards the ledge. “Wait, no!” Jay took a step towards him, and Tim tensed up as he stepped back, widening the distance. “I need your help!”

Tim stopped moving, then, and Jay knew he’d pissed him off now, saw it in the way his lower lip twitched. His next words were icy and slow, deliberate.

Keep reading

[weilongfu]

Hi! If I'm still in time, would you do kinnporsche? I know we only got 2 episodes but maybe you could leave it for later? I'm giving you diff prompts so you can choose. 1)Them (or KimChay, or Thankhun) crossing paths with the Rich boys. 2)You broke what?!?” - “Don’t worry, I’m okay.” 3)double "date" with KimChay or Kinn's friends 4)Thankhun inserting himself into a date 5)getting blackmail material from your so's siblings 6)“Come back, I’m sorry.” - “Not until you apologize.” - “I just said!"

We'll go with "Getting blackmail material from your SO's siblings" because that could fit anywhere in any pseudo timeline.

------

"So," Thankhun said sliding into the seat next to Porsche in the dining hall. "You and my little Nong Kinn."

Porsche coughed on his soup, looked around to see Pete giving him the thumbs up, and everyone else minding their own business. Thankhun had that effect on people unless he was at a party, it seemed. Thankhun also tossed Porsche a handkerchief worth more than his life to mop up his mess.

"Khun Thankhun-"

"Spare me before you bore me with your gratuitous thanks." Thankhun said with his usual wave of his hand. "Now, you and Kinn."

"Me and Kinn?"

"Yes, yes, very good, congratulations, glad you got the stick out to replace it with something better." Porsche nearly choked again on his water. "Now just because we are a mafia family does not mean that we do not adhere to tradition."

"Oh fuck."

"And so since father will not do it," Thankhun said with a sigh and resting his hand upon his chest. "I am afraid I must, for the sake of all that is good and fair and just." Porsche took that moment to look at Pete again who only shrugged this time. "And I will reveal to you, the great secret of Kinn. His baby photos and high school graduation photos."

"HIS WHAT?!"

"Shh!" Thankhun slapped the back of Porsche's head which finally earned the gaze of several bodyguards, but were swiftly redirected with Thankhun's brand of crazy stare. "Do you not know what material I have here? Do you want just anyone to be able to see it?"

"I- No?"

"Then come closer little Porsche and look your fill." Thankhun removed several photos from his cape's breast pocket (today it was a tasteful pink embroidered with flowers in white thread.), and revealed them to Porsche.

The first thought Porsche had was that there was no way the cool and cunning mafia heir, no matter how nice his smiles were in private, could have been the sincere child smiling while hugging a stuffed panda. Or that even the gangly teen, still yet to grow into his features and sharp eyes, was a still immature version of Kinn.

The second thought was how ridiculously charming it all was.

The third thought was how he was never going to let Kinn live down the fact that someone thought it was a good idea to take a picture of Kinn defecating in the garden.

"What even-"

"Oh poor Kinn." Thankhun tapped the photo in question. "Food poisoning. Not actual poison, just bacteria." Thankhun sighed. "And all the bathrooms at the main house were too far away. He decided to shit in a corner than walk around with poop down his leg. All those bodyguards watching out and no one noticed my clever Pete snapping this photo. We fired them all of course, but it was still funny."

Porsche looked up at Pete who only winked this time. "Uh... I guess so?"

"Anyway, I have sealed my end of the bargain," Thankhun said while sweeping up the photos. "And in the interest of fairness, your brother is now providing Kinn with some photos of you, through Kim of course."

"Wait... YOU DID WHAT?"

"Time to go! Pete! My sunglasses!"

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 6

A/N: Part 6 is here lovelies! I honestly wish it didn’t take me forever to write just one chapter 😭

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, some implications of sex because it’s Lucifer we’re talking about here

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

“Lucifer.” You stood there by the bar trying to get the man’s attention.

The tall man in the suit straightened up once he heard your voice, a glass of alcohol was in his hands as he slowly turning around to face you.

“Well well, if it isn’t my favorite Chthonian, Hekate.” A sly smile broke out on the man’s face. “Surprised to see you here princess, I haven’t seen you in decades.” His dark eyes roamed your frame and the simple clothes you wore while you squinted your eyes at him. “My, you look ravishing as always.”

“Hello Lucifer.” Your voice was firm.

Sam, Bucky, and Zemo had just caught up with you after having to squeeze through everyone, their eyes darting between you and the mysterious, tall, expensive looking man in front of you. Who was this guy and why were you talking to him? And from the way he was looking at you, they began to think he was a previous fling of yours, and though they did not want to admit it, I dare say they were beginning to feel a bit green.

“Well, tell me.” The man finished his drink before pouring himself another glass. “What brings you all the way over here to my little dominion? I’d offer you a drink but I know how much you despise it.”

“I don’t despise it.” You rolled your eyes. “Your liquor collection tastes like piss anyways.”

“I beg your pardon, I always choose the best. You insulting my taste buds now? Truth is, you just can’t get drunk.” He scoffed, turning to you again, swirling the contents of his glass around before taking a sip. “You and your intolerably high tolerance, must be miserable. So tell me, why are you here? Not that I don’t enjoy your company darling.”

“I’m here to collect up on a favor.”

“Oh? Are you now?” The same sly smile retuned to his face as he took a step closer to you. “Does it involve a little you and me? A bit of the ole snog and shag? I’ve always heard how electrifying and intoxicating of an experience it is to be with a Greek deity.”

“Keep that up and I’ll recreate my moment with Julius Caesar.” Your smiled sarcastically, clenching your jaw as you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Oh how you hated his smug ass sometimes.

“Well I’d certainly love to tangle with you darling. Oh wait....you meant the stabbing didn’t you. Of course you would.”

Sam stepped up in front of you with his fists clenched, glaring at Lucifer once he heard the little exchange. “Hey man, I don’t like you talking to her like that.”

“Yeah. Neither do I.” Bucky stepped up in front of you as well, squaring up against Lucifer. Even Zemo stood close behind, making you look up at him as he was now right beside you, ready to fight the man if need be. If there was one thing he didn’t like, it was definitely vulgarity.

Lucifer smiled in surprise, scoffing at the three men who had now shielded you behind them. It was now your turn to scoff, rolling your eyes at their defensive behavior before pulling them apart so you can get through. “Chill out you three, for fucks sake, I’m not in danger.”

“But-“ Sam tried to argue but you cut him off.

“Trust me, he’s not a threat. And if he was, you don’t want to fight him.”

“Well who are these three dashing gentlemen?” Lucifer quirked a brow as he eyed them all. “Ohh, what’s this? Terminator, Amenadiel 2.0, and Viktor Krum? Are they your little boy toys Hekate?”

Bucky, Zemo, and Sam were fuming as they all tried to charge again, but you held your arms out, smacking them aside. “Watch your mouth Lucifer. They’re my colleagues.”

“That’s never stopped anyone.” He took another sip.

“What’s your deal man?” Sam scowled.

“Well don’t be rude Hekate. Where’s the proper introduction?” Lucifer gestured as his eyes roamed over them.

You sighed before you started to introduce them to each other. “This is Sam, Bucky, and Zemo. Guys, this is-“

“Lucifer Morningstar.” He boasted, slightly bowing. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Lucifer Morningstar?” Bucky cocked his head back as he did a double take.

“Yes, well I said that just now didn’t I.”

“As in the devil?” Sam smirked as if this was a joke. “Horns, tail, pitchfork, half goat devil?”

“You missed out the red cape and tights, but yes, I am the devil, the one and only, yours truly.” Lucifer replied with sarcasm as he was getting annoyed. “But seriously, what is it with the half goat thing. Is this in your realm as well?”

“Yeah.” You replied blandly.

“Ugh, fuck me. I’m never going to escape it.” He rolled his eyes as he chugged the glass down.

“Wait is he for real or is he just a screw loose?” Sam turned to you.

“Yes.”

“Which one is it?”

“Both.”

“She’s kidding right.” Sam muttered to Bucky.

“Don’t ask me Sam. I don’t have a clue about anything at this point.” Bucky shook his head.

“Don’t look at me like that Sam.” You rolled your eyes as Sam glared at you, upset about not knowing firsthand that you were taking them to the damn devil himself. “This isn’t some kind of college lecture where I write things on the board and you just take notes.”

“Well then.” Lucifer turned to you, giving you his full attention. “What exactly is this favor?”

“I need Mazekeen.”

“Desperate now are we?”

You rolled your eyes yet again, you were sure you’d end up cross eyed by the end of the day due to his antics. “I need her to watch over Athena for a while.”

“Ah yes. I forgot you had a little miscreant of your own. But why Maze? Can’t you use one of your own minions?”

“Well I can’t exactly have the empusas or harpies take care of her. Besides, Athena likes Maze.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want a blood sucking demon or a torturous she-bird near your little delinquent.” He turned to the other side of the bar. “Maze! Mazikeen!”

“I heard you once you know.” A dark haired woman stepped up to the bar, glaring at Lucifer before turning to you with surprise. “Hekate? Well hello gorgeous. I didn’t expect you.”

“Hi Maze.” You smiled at her. “How have you been?”

“Unbelievable.” Lucifer muttered. “She scowls at me but smiles at her.”

“Well I’m stuck with this guy so what do you think?” Maze leaned over the counter with a playful roll of her eyes before they landed on the men behind you as she licked her lips. “Ooh. I see you’ve brought dessert.”

Bucky, Sam, and Zemo looked at each other uneasily. Where the hell did you drag them to? Were you literally going to sell them off to Satan himself and leave them there? Was that your master plan all along?

“Uhhh they’re not on the menu. Sorry Maze, they’re my colleagues.”

“Boring isn’t she? Hekate needs you to take care of her little miscreant.” Lucifer interrupted.

“Athena? Really?” Maze’s eyes lit up.

“Just for some time Maze while I go take care of some things.”

“Hell yeah. I’m down. Anything to get away from this place and this asshole.” Maze jumped over the counter with a grin as Lucifer gave her an offended look. “Let me get my things.” You watched as she hurried up the stairs, leaving you and the rest with Lucifer.

“Sooo.” You heard Lucifer speak up, making you groan in annoyance. What now?

“Since we have some lovely time on your hands.” Lucifer slid up to Bucky, Sam, and Zemo with a sly smile and a dark, mischievous glint in his eyes. “Tell me, what is it you truly desire?”

You watched as the men became trapped in his gaze, their stern facial expressions falling as they became vulnerable, opening their mouths to speak of their deepest secret.

“Oh hell no. None of that shit.” You rolled your eyes as you snapped your fingers in their faces, breaking off Lucifer’s spell. Sam, Bucky, and Zemo shook their heads in confusion as they tried to process what the hell just happened.

“Ugh. You are no fun you know that.” Lucifer rolled his eyes at you. “You’re completely and utterly dull. I thought the detective was boring, then there’s you.”

“Hey, what the hell was that?” Sam raised his voice, upset about the weird hypnosis he just experienced.

“Just one of his stupid hoodoo voodoo staring bullshit.” You muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky asked, getting more confused by the minute.

“Well it’s when I ask you what you desire and you tell me your answer willingly.” Lucifer explained the process before make a snide remark about you. “It’s worked wonders until she ruined my mojo.”

“Bold of you to assume you even had any mojo to begin with.” You snapped back.

“You know, I tried my mojo on her once. Do you know what her answer was?” Lucifer brought up.

“I’m guessing her answer was to your disappointment. Was it ‘go away’?” Zemo answered with a sarcastic tone, which made you look up at him, smirking at his comment.

“Close.” Lucifer grinned at Zemo. “It was actually, in her exact words ‘for you to go play a nice game of hide-and-go-fuck-yourself’. How delightful. We became best friends ever since.”

“How unfortunate.” You mumbled with your arms crossed.

“Now I must say.” Lucifer stepped up to Zemo as he touched the fur collar of his coat. “I’m loving this coat. Are you part of the Russian mafia?”

“Please don’t touch me.” Zemo moved Lucifer’s hand away with his gloved one. “I’d rather not have your hands near me, considering the....places they have been.”

“Oh.” Lucifer turned to you with amusement. “I like this one. Now really, what is he, hm?”

“I don’t know. Looks human to me.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“He’s the baron of Sokovia. Lay off will ya?”

“Sokovia? Never heard of it. But a baron? How exciting, looks like we have two royals in the building, including me of course. Now, since we have some time to spare, how about we go upstairs and make it a royal three-“

You scowled at Lucifer, stepping on his foot before he could finish his sentence. This motherfucker.

“Ow! Those are Pradas!”

“Next time it’s your family jewels.”

“Alright then, you win. I’ll keep my mouth shut if that keeps you from tyrannizing me. My word you hit hard.”

You rolled your eyes yet again, praying for Maze to hurry up. You were feeling extremely sorry that the three had to put up with his foolish behavior. You couldn’t help the breath of relief once you saw Maze approaching you with her bag.

“Thank the gods.” You sighed before speaking to Maze. “You ready?”

“Let’s go.” She smiled.

“Well I’ll see you later then Maze, have fun with the little miscreant.” Lucifer commented. “And I hope you’ll return soon Hekate? I always do enjoy your company, no matter how cruel and dreary you are.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.” You waved Lucifer goodbye as you made your way towards the exit. “Say hi to Amenadiel and Chloe for me! I prefer their company any day over yours! Oh also! You better ask Chloe out or I will take her out myself!”

Once you had left the stuffy building, you were able to breathe better as you took in a big breath of the night air, feeling a little more at peace.

“Finally.” Sam spoke up with an irritated scowl on his face. “He was getting on my damn nerves. What a guy.”

“You’re telling me.” Bucky uttered, his posture was more relaxed now, now that he was away from the large crowd and away from Lucifer.

“Did you expect anything different?” Zemo tilted his head. “He is the devil, as y/n briefly mentioned.”

“About that.” Sam turned to you with a scolding look. “We need to talk.”

“Not now Sam.” You silenced him before turning to Maze. “Okay there’s going to be some ground rules. First off, no parties.”

“Yeah I know.” Maze rolled her eyes.

“Hang on. I’m not finished. No drinking, Athena does not need to be seeing that. Absolutely no men over of any kind, because that’s just gross. I have plenty of food in the fridge and in my garden. Also here’s some money for takeout if you want it. And-“

“Hekate, I got it.” Maze stopped you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Chloe lectured the same thing to me when I had to babysit Trixie. I know how this all works. I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

“I know. This is just my first time.” You sighed.

“She’ll be safe with me I promise.”

“I trust you Maze. Oh also, if anyone threatening decides to stop by-“

“Slice em up.”

“Yes.....but no.”

“Awww. That’s no fun.” Maze slumped her shoulders.

“Life is full of disappointments. Just give them a good scare. You know what to do.” You told her as you opened up a portal for her that led to your home. “You got everything?”

“Yup. See you later Hekate.” She gave you one last smile before disappearing into the portal. You watched as it closed behind her, trying your best to wash away all the doubts. You knew Maze would take good care of Athena, that was certain. But life hasn’t been very kind to you lately. And you’ve only been more on edge ever since you lost your planet. But you had hope, because Athena was the last favor of kindness that was offered to you, and you weren’t going to let her go. So with the little bit of faith in you, you sent over a protective spell on Maze, just for the extra precaution, a part of you knowing everything would turn out just fine.

“So.” You spoke up. “Where do we start?”

Tag List: @Little-baby-vixen @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thebivirgin @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @pollynx

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

BatMom- Dick Grayson

This is the beginning of a five part series, starting with Richard Grayson.

Masterlist

Part 1[Here]

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Dick Grayson, Her First Bird.

Marinette sighed as she stepped out of her car thanking her driver as he pulled her luggage out of the trunk. She turned looking up at the mansion taking in the appearance and remembering how he described it all those years ago. When Marinette first got to know Bruce Wayne, before he broke her heart. Although she couldn’t place her blame on him, after all Bruce wasn’t looking for love. No, he was looking for revenge and Marinette was looking for love in the wrong place. They were two different people and while Bruce did love her, he didn’t love her. Marinette knew that, and she accepted that while it took sometime, she moved on. But now she was back after what she would call a cry for help, but Bruce would call a request for assistance. Although he would never really admit that he asked for help. 

She walked up to the door and knocked politely thinking of the person who would most likely answer. Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce’s honorary father, and technical butler. If the man was anything like Bruce described him he’d answer the door.

“Hello?” Alfred greeted open the door taking in Marinette’s stylish yet obviously comfy clothing. “Ah, you must be Miss Marinette, Master Bruce has told me much about you. You’re here to help him with Young Master Richard.” Marinette laughed softly pushing her sunglasses up allowing her to see her twinkling blue bell eyes. 

“Now Mister Pennyworth, you and I both know Bruce doesn’t ask for help. He implies that he needs it, but refuses to say the word. Then if you say it he will deny ever needing it.” Alfred let his lips twitch as he grabbed Marinette’s bags. Gesturing for her to enter the manor.

“Miss Marinette, I think I am going to enjoy having you around.”

Marinette walked calmly down the hall to Richard’s room, she paused taking a deep breath knocking gently on the door. “Richard may I come in?” She was silent, an understanding smile covering her face. She sat down by the door, side sitting as she slipped her shoes off. “Very well, I will not come in without your permission. However I simply cannot sit out here in silence, that’s much too boring and I abhor silence! Did you know turkeys were once worshipped as Gods? The Mayan people saw them as vessels of the Gods, so much so that they domesticated turkeys to have roles in religious rites. Sounds absolutely silly right? Though I can’t fault them as it is their beliefs, and they had not actually met Gods unlike me.” Marinette smiled as she heard another body sit down on the other side of the door. “In fact I believe they’d be surprised at how unbelievably silly they are! As well as tiny, but don’t let that trick you, even without their chosen human they pack a nasty punch. They are also very protective of those they call their own. Of course not many know that, very few have been blessed to be chosens, and unfortunately quite a few have abused the power. I fear that I may one day abuse it myself. Though my little Goddess always tells me it’s not possible.” The door creaked open slightly and one breathtakingly blue eye peered out at her.

“You’re a chosen?” He asked softly, causing Marinette to smile brightly, as she patted the spot right next to her.

“I am actually the Guardian of them, Tikki is my patron and I her champion. She is the Goddess of Creation and Good Luck, her opposite is Plagg God of Destruction and Bad Luck. Would you like to meet her?” Dick Grayson was quick to open his door and sit next to Marinette his eyes sparkling for the first time in a long time.”Tikki, come out and say hello.”

“Hello there.” Tikki said softly, flying around the young boy’s head giggling. “I’m Tikki and this is my chosen Marinette!”

“Hi I’m Richard Grayson, but I prefer Dick.”

“Nice to meet you Dick.”

“Golly Tikki! It’s nice to meet you too, and you Miss Marinette!”

———————————<3————————————

Dick Grayson, After the Fight.

Lady Noir slipped into the tower, careful not to let her power flare and alert the half demon her dear Robin had befriended. She made her way to the kitchen and began unpacking the groceries she had bought, leaving the Chinese take out on the counter. She didn’t even pause when the doors slid open revealing Robin. Who stared at her unimpressed, arms crossed and a slight glare in place. “I suggest you drop that glare Birdie, or else I shall not give you the Chinese I brought. Or the chocolate milk, I know it is still your favorite.” She turned to him with a smirk flipping her braid over her shoulder as she took in her baby bird.

“Did he make you come here?” He said with no emotion in his voice, but Lady Noir could hear the silent plead. The begging for her to say that Batman hadn’t sent her to reprimand his wayward bird. Lady Noir snorted as she unboxed the take out pulling out her favorite and breaking apart her chopsticks. 

“Nonsense, B can’t make me do everything for him. This is something he needs to fix himself.” She said before sitting down on the stool posture as elegant as ever. She calmly ate her Chow mein, waiting for her first bird to come to her. Robin glanced out the window before slowly making his way over sitting across from her at the breakfast bar. “Can’t a cat want to see her favorite bird?” She questioned looking at her noodles with an amused smile as Robin snorted.

“Considering you’re using Plagg instead of Tikki I am a little more worried.” Robin said surveying the hero in front of him, watching as her smile wavered. He hated when her smile waved; she had one of the most beautiful smiles he ever saw. He had always wanted to smile as brightly as she did, and never believed her when she said he already out did her. However since the split between him and Batman. Robin had rarely smiled. “Why is Lady Noir here and not Ladybug?” He questioned looking into her eyes, blue hidden by a green protection. Lady Noir placed her chopsticks down before reaching a shaking hand out to his cheek stopping short.

“Plagg, claws in.” She called softly letting the transformation drop before softly caressing his cheek, moving her other hand up to hold his face gently. Tilting it side to side to assure there were no injuries. “You know Tikki, if she came she’d refuse to leave without you.” Marinette said as her thumb gently brushed the bottom of Robin’s mask. “May I?” She asked softly, but Robin could see the desperation in her blue bell eyes. He grabbed her wrist gently squeezing it, not liking when her eyes closed in resignation. He panicked when she began pulling her hands away, and gently pulled them back to his face. Nodding as he enjoyed the familiar warmth. Marinette gave him a gentle smile as she removed the mask, revealing her Dickie Grayson almost all groan up. “There’s those beautiful blue eyes.” She said softly as a few tears fell from her own. “I’m sorry to intrude Dickie, but after-after what happened last month-I just-I wanted to-I had to see you. I had to see you in person myself. I need to make sure you are okay. Oh baby bird, when I saw you on the news frozen and unable to defend yourself. At the mercy of the Brotherhood of Evil, I-I was terrified.” Dick squeezed her hand gently before standing up and moving to the other side of the breakfast bar. He dragged her into his arms hugging her tightly wrapping his cape around them as best he could.

“I wasn’t scared.” He admitted softly as she cried on his shoulder. “They didn’t scare me, because I knew that no matter what. I knew that you’d come for me, I don’t know about Bruce anymore, but I knew you’d always come for me.”

———————————<3————————————

Dick Grayson, Ladybug v.s. Tarantula.

Ladybug landed gracefully on the build and launched herself at Tarantula tackling the girl off Nightwing. She gripped the girl by her throat slamming her head against the concrete with an almost inhuman growl. Straddling the girls hips asuring no chance of escape before viciously rain punches down on her.

“How. Dare. You.” She growled stopping after the fifth punch, snapping out and grabbing the arm Tarantula tried to hit her with. She glared before breaking the girl's wrist in her grip. “How dare you lay your hands on my bird. How dare you attempt to rape him!” She growled out standing up and dragged the girl up by her ponytail. “Kaalki, open a portal.” She dragged the girl to the portal ignoring her attempts to get away.

“I don’t kill, in that department you are unlucky. You see, I’m going to send you somewhere no one knows about. You will never see another human being for the rest of your life. Have fun little girl, for you shall never hurt another again.” Ladybug growled out the fire in her eyes scaring Catalina.

“No please! No I’m sorry, forgive me!” She cried out but was ignored as Ladybug threw her through the portal.

“Close it Kaalki.” She said both her and the God ignoring the girls cries. “I don’t not forgive rapists.” She turned back to her blue bird hurrying over and pulling the sobbing young man into her arms. Cradling and rocking him slowly, he wrapped his arms around her waist crying into her shoulder. “I got you baby bird, let it out. I’m here now, I’m here you’re safe. I’ve got you I’m right here.” She whispered softly, running her fingers through his hair. “I’ve got you.” She kissed his temple softly. 

———————————<3————————————

Dick Grayson, Batman’s Cowl.

She leaned against the clock tower watching Batman on his first patrol with his Robin. A frown on her face as she watched them feeling older than ever when she never heard the familiar cackle. No, there would be no cackles in Gotham for a long while. She watched as the Batmoblie rolled into an alleyway, and the duo jumped down. She looked up at the sky begging herself not to cry, at the cruelty of life. Her blue bird was never meant for the cowl but there was nothing she could do. Her bird was anything if not stubborn, he had made his decision and she would not be mad like the League was. No, she would support him and her newest bird. No matter how violent he was towards her. She’d be there every step of the way to make sure the cowl didn’t darken her Birdie.

———————————<3————————————

Dick Grayson, Court of Owls.

Lady Noir glared down at the man below her as her combined powers from Tikki and Plagg rippled.

“The Gray Son belongs to the Court.” William Cobb said to her emotionlessly from where he stood above her bird. Nightwing-no his mask was gone, that was her Richard, her Dickie staring up at her with those terrified blue eyes.

“You’re wrong he belongs to no one but himself.” She said firmly, taking in her bird’s unfortunately great grandfather. “And if I have to beat that into you to prove it, so be it. No one, especially not blood lays a hand on my bird and gets away with it.” She flung her yo-yo out wrapping it around his wrist and yanking him forward and off balance. Before propeling herself forward with her baton. Beginning a dangerous dance of which she refused to lose.

“Hey baby bird.” She said softly, hiding her pain as her transformation dropped. She sank to her knees pulling his head into her lap gently playing with his hair. “I’ve got you.” Dick sobbed softly into her lap letting his emotions run freely. Coming to terms with the fact that Haley’s Circus wasn’t his home, they were simply grooming him to be a killer. Taking comfort in his one constant since the loss of his parents. His heart breaking even more over the fact that they had planned to hand him over to them. He knew Marinette would never, she’d never do that to him.

———————————<3————————————

Dick Grayson, Death of her Eldest.

Marinette sat despondent as she started at the casket in front of her. Tears falling down her face hidden by a black veil. Her eldest was gone, she’d lost another child. She couldn’t protect another one of her boys, how many would she fail. Tikki and Plagg sat on her shoulders hidden by her black graying hair and her veil. A sob broke from her as she brought one hand up to her face. Attention landing on the mourning mother who finally broke since the news. Since her first baby bird died and she wasn’t there, just like she wasn’t there for her Jay-bird. Life was cruel, so cruel to take two of her birds from her. People turned away from the mother allowing her to let her grief out, they all knew it was a terrible fate. To outlive your children, she had no idea of the three boys wishing to comfort her. Yet fearing they’d make it worse.

———————————<3————————————

Dick Grayson Becomes Ric Grayson.

Yes she had been deeply upset to find out her eldest had faked his death. Then she had been pissed at Bruce for telling her Baby bird the family would know. She resolved to spend as much time as she could with her birds. She never thought it would backfire like this, never thought she’d watch her son get shot in the head. Yet here she was by his bedside in Gotham Advance Medical Hospital. She had barely left his side since, she didn’t want to lose her son again. So every day she sat there holding his hand and reading books out loud to him. They day those beautiful blues opened though had not been happy, for what mother would be happy when the rule son asks who they are. It was weeks later that she finally visited again, breaking into ‘Ric’s’ apartment. “Shit, pulling stuff like this will get ya shot lady.” Rick grumbled looking at the unfamiliar woman with graying black hair.

“Please you wouldn’t shoot me, even now guns make you uncomfortable.” Marinette states calling him out and causing the man to tense. “I’m not here to fight, I just could leave without saying goodbye please allow me that.” She took his silence as a go ahead, still not turning around to look at him. “The day I realized I saw you as my son was amazing yet heartbreaking. I loved you so much, you were my boy yet I knew I would never be your mother. I watched you grow into such an amazing and beautiful young man, and now I’ve lost you again. Only this time you may never remember me.” She stood up and turned to Ric not hiding her tears as she cradled his face. “I will always love you.” She said softly kissing his forehead before stepping back and walking past him closing the door behind her as she left. Leaving Ric feeling as if someone important had just left.

 ———————————<3————————————

Dick Grayson, Remembrance.

“Not Ric.” He said softly, staring at the ground before slamming his foot down and breaking the crystal. “Dick” He said, turning to Barbara-Batgirl, turning to Batgirl and Beatrice smiling softly. “It’s Dick and I need to find my mom. I need to apologize to her as soon as possible.” Batman landed besides Batgirl the rest of the bat family following. “Let’s hurry up and take care of Joker. I need to see mom.”

Dick walked through the door to Marinette’s penthouse, holding take out from her favorite Chinese place. “Is that you Jay-bird? Did you guys take care of the Joker? I’m sorry I couldn’t help. I wish I never sprained my ankle.” He heard her sigh softly from the couch as she hadn’t turned around yet. “Jason? Baby bird don’t ignore me.” She called out slightly annoyed but he could hear the underlined affection. “Jason Todd-Wayne I swear.” She turned on the couch gasping when her eyes met his eyes. “Hi mom, I’m home.” He said softly rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh baby bird, oh my boy!” She cried out trying to stand as she started crying. She limped  around the couch, causing him to rush towards her wrapping his arms around her waist. 

“Hey mom, sorry for hurting you.”

“Oh my baby bird, I’m so happy.”

———————————<3————————————

Dick Grayson, his Wedding day.

She stood by the door watching him adjust his tie as he looked in the mirror just making it worse. “Honestly Dickie, are you ever going to get a tie right?” She teased walking over and slowly fixing it. She brushed it down gently, her eyes tearing up when she spotted the bluebells in his breast pocket. “Birdie.” She said softly reaching up with her right hand and cupping his cheek gently. “I am so proud of you.” She whispered as a tear slid down her face. “You’ve grown so much and now you’re marrying a beautiful woman that loves you so much.” Dick gently wiped the tear off her cheek. 

“Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, it makes me feel guilty.” He said causing Marinette to snort as she shook her head. Tikki flew out from her hiding place in Marinette’s clutch doing a circle around Dick. “Hello Tikki, I’ve missed you.” Tikki smiled softly at the man standing in front of her.

“And I you Young Grayson, if I may I wish to give you my wedding gift now.” She flew up kissing his forehead gently giggling as her power rippled around him. “Young Grayson, I grant you and your chosen mate Good Luck and Fortune in your future together.” Dick looked at her in surprise while Marinette shook her head looking at her Patron.

“You always have to outdo me.”

[adhd-disaster-willie]

seventeen and strung out on confusion; chapter 4/4

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

Warnings: mentions of homophobia, swearing

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Alex coming out to Julie! I’ve been daydreaming about this chapter since I started the fic because dammit I need some Julie in here. okay. I hope you like it!

---

August (?) 2020

Alex would’ve liked to say that he thought it couldn’t get weirder than dying, becoming a ghost, being seen by Julie -and by association… everyone-. But anxiety does this fun little thing where it makes you run over and nitpick at every possible and impossible scenario until you’ve sent yourself into an endless spiral of possibilities and what if’s and suddenly you’ve been pacing for 2 hours and your mouth is dry from all the rambling you’ve done. So Alex knew it could get weirder, and he had a very long list of exactly how it could get weirder; a list which Luke and Reggie had heard about a dozen too many times. However, being chased down by an evil soul-stealing ghost in sparkly capes with their only hope for being saved being Alex’s not-boyfriend hijacking a bus to get them the gig at the Orpheum that would hopefully make them cross over? That was not on his list.

And y’know what else was not on his list for whatever reason? Coming out to Julie. Because apparently, his brain had skipped over the fact that she didn’t know until it was looming before him and screaming in his face: She doesn’t know you’re gay?! Why didn’t you tell her?! She’s gonna kick you out of the garage and laugh when Caleb steals your soul!!!! Right, it’d probably be good to explain exactly why Alex was being sent into this particular panic.

“So-” Luke leaned forward, grinning. “Willie’s gonna hijack the opening band’s bus, so that-”

“Wait a minute, back up.” Julie waved her hands, interrupting him. “Who’s Willie?”

“Oh!” Reggie piped up. “Willie is Alex’s ghost boyf-”

“Alex’s ghost friend.” Luke slapped a hand over Reggie’s mouth, eyes wide. He jerked his head in Alex’s direction, who was sitting frozen on the couch beside Reggie, and then plastered a grin on his face to look back at Julie.

Reggie nodded, realization taking hold, and mouthed a quick sorry at Alex. Alex blinked himself out of his reverie and smiled shakily back. This was fine. Julie was looking at the three boys skeptically and he was sure that she was getting ready to push and prod until Alex broke and-

“Okay, so Alex’s ghost… friend is gonna hijack the other band’s bus,” Julie gave a tight-lipped smile. “And then what?”

Alex blinked. He dug his nails into his palms, waiting for Julie to say something about Reggie’s slip up, but nothing came and the conversation continued, Luke reciting the plan until it fully sunk in, and Julie nodding along like nothing had happened. Okay.  

Everyone began to file out of the studio, but Alex had been too lost in his thoughts to know why or where they were going. He leaned back on the couch and exhaled shakily, shutting his eyes tight.

It’s not like he had never wondered if the future was more accepting. Of course he had. But he hadn’t quite begun to process that it was an actual possibility. Back home… or 25 years ago, Alex corrected himself, coming out meant alienating yourself from half the people you care about and most of the ones you don’t. Alex’s parents hated him, his grandparents had never been allowed to even know, and for all he knew, Angie had been brainwashed to believe that he was a monster. And that’s not to mention the dirty looks and slurs tossed at him by anyone who even had an inkling that he was gay. So it was difficult to imagine that things had gotten better in 25 years, and that he could tell Julie and have her not bat an eye. Because Luke, Reggie, and Bobby had accepted him unconditionally, but that was rare. Most of the people he’d come out to either hated him, asked him a slew of inappropriate questions, or couldn’t look at him without pity overriding their features.

“Alex?”

Alex’s head snapped up, turning to face Julie, who was standing in the entrance of the studio looking at him pitifully. Of course. Ok, he could deal with this. It was better than being kicked out. Fine.

“Yea?” Alex finally stammered, swallowing past the dryness in his throat.. “I just came to get my laptop, we’re gonna watch Netflix,” she hesitated. “Are you alright? You kinda zoned out the last 10 minutes of that conversation. And you were looking at the floor like it was gonna bite you.”

Oh.

Alex chuckled weakly at the last comment. “Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He smiled up at her to prove his alleged fine-ness. Julie raised an eyebrow.

“Ok, you are not fine.” Julie sat down beside him.

“Julie… I’m okay, go watch your netflakes.”

“First of all, it’s Netflix. Also, when I said we I meant all four of us. I’m not gonna watch tv with those idiots while you sit alone in the studio spiraling.” Julie scooted closer to him, her eyebrows knitted in worry. She sighed softly before clasping her hands together in her lap and staring downwards. “I know… I know this sucks. This whole thing sucks so much. But we should enjoy the time we have. And yes that’s hypocritical of me considering I holed up in my room alone when I found out. But-” -she nudged Alex and laughed softly- “I’m not gonna let you sit here moping while Luke makes me watch Back to the Future.”

Alex smiled bittersweetly. He was sure his heart could be heard a hundred miles away and fuck why were his palms so sweaty? He began fiddling with the strap of his fannypack. Julie raised her eyebrows. Of course she already knew all his nervous ticks. Because Julie knows everything; he was starting to think that Reggie wasn’t so far off with the witch thing because no one should ever be that good at reading people.

“That’s not what’s bothering me,” Alex admitted, his voice quivering. He was really gonna do this. Fuck, ok then.

Julie nodded, allowing him to continue.

“It’s about, uh…” He closed his eyes and exhaled, counting as he did. “It’s about what Reggie said, kind of.” He looked over, assessing Julie’s reaction. She gave him an encouraging smile.

Alex clenched his fists to try and stop them from trembling. “I-” Come on Alex, you can’t turn back now, just get it over with. “I’m gay.” He almost poofed out right then and there. He felt completely frozen, and if being ghost didn’t already make him feel floaty and not feel, this certainly did. He was milliseconds from leaving when Julie launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around Alex

“Thank you for telling me, Alex. Thank you for trusting me,” she murmured into his hoodie. When she pulled away, they were both smiling and Alex felt a weight lift off his shoulders that he hadn’t even noticed had been hanging around since he appeared in the garage.

“Well, I guess now’s a good a time as any,” Julie said, taking a deep breath.

“A good time for…”

“I’m bisexual.” Julie smiled brightly and let out a breath.

“Oh,” Alex’s brow furrowed for a moment, but perked up just as swiftly. “That’s the one with the pink purple and blue!” He said proudly. “Willie told me.” The last part was laced with a pink blush that Julie thankfully chose to ignore.

“Yeah!” Julie grinned. She gave him a high five and laughed.

“Thank you for telling me Jules,” Alex said, repeating what she’d just told him.

Julie nodded and squeezed his hand. She stood up, pulling Alex up with her.

“Aw, c’mon I was comfy,” Alex whined.

Julie gave him a stern look. “Alex, if we sat for even 10 seconds longer, Luke would come barging in convinced I was dead and you like, fainted from a panic attack or something.”

“Yea, he would,” Alex sighed reluctantly. “Your punishment for making me stand up is listening to Luke pause Back to the Future every 5 seconds to tell us all his theories that we’ve heard a hundred times.”

“But I haven’t heard them,” Julie pouted, a smile breaking through her expression as she pulled the studio doors open and began walking towards the house.

“No. No, do not say that when he’s in the room, you’ll only encourage him.”

“Fine.”

A beat of silence passed, but not an uncomfortable one, Alex noted.

“So… you wanna tell me about this ghost boyfriend of yours?” Julie teased, wiggling her eyebrows and giggling.

Alex flushed crimson. “He is not my boyfriend!”

---

Aaaand we’re done. I need to stop writing multichapter things because I suck at them askajshdsk. I hope that you liked this fic though! Feedback is highly appreciated.

Taglist: @stars-soph @thatsmyverb

[watchtower-feed]

Death Do We Part (Part 15)

SSA Spin-off ✧ Jason Todd ✧ Physical Link ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧ Words: 2,700+

     You rest your head on your knees as you look at Tim. Your lips tremble as you watch him struggle with his thoughts.

     He stares at his hands with narrowed eyes before you hear his broken voice.

     “... I don’t know if I want to be Robin anymore.”

     The morning dragged on agonizingly slow with Tim hiding in your room, Bruce nursing a drink in the kitchen, and Alfred sitting beside him. But when Bruce’s phone rang and the hospital told him that his son, Richard Grayson, was just admitted into Gotham General, everything sped past like a blur.

     The city traffic buzzing through the car’s window. The loud reporters hounding you at the entrance. The doctor’s mouth moving in silence as he reads from a chart, explaining Dick’s condition. You were only picking up words like critical and surgery.

     The first thing you became conscious of was Alfred’s hand on your shoulder. “Y/N. He’s going to be okay.” You didn’t even notice your tears until he was wiping them away.

     It’s past midnight in the hospital room. Tim is sleeping on the couch. Alfred is  in an extra bed. Bruce had just stepped out for coffee. And you’re still awake, curling up in the armchair closest to Dick. You’re holding his hand and looking at the fringes of his hair lying on his forehead. Slowly you loosen your grip to brush them back, but Dick’s fingers curl around yours.

     You’re too busy staring at his hand when he opens his eyes.

     “Hi…”

     You cover your mouth to trap the sob that’s lodged in your throat. “Dick--”

     He smiles. “H-hey hey. I’m okay.” He sounds exhausted but he still tries to laugh. “It’s just-- what? Like broken ribs again?”

     You frown at him, “One punctured your spleen, Dick. They had to stitch it up during surgery.”

     Dick chuckles, “Another one? Man. I swear I get one every other month. I probably passed out on Jason.”

     “You were with Jason?” your voice hitched a little but you lower it right away and check on Alfred and Tim.

     “Oh yeah… we had a nice little chat…” Dick’s looking at you now while frowning. “So… you’re leaving.”

     You pause and then look down when you answer, “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from Jason since yesterday morning.”

     Dick raises one eyebrow and teases you, “The morning after?”

     “Shut up,” you snap at him in a whisper, making him snicker quietly. You blush but you can’t help give a small laugh as well.

     Dick smiles at you.

     “He told me you were leaving and I was hoping to charm the two of you into staying.” He gives you a look, one that’s both sad and disappointed. “But I don’t really think that’s an option, huh.”

     Dick squeezes your hand and your voice is a lot softer when you answer, “He killed the Joker, Dick. In front of Bruce.”

     “Yeah. He told me.”

     “And you almost died, too.”

     Dick laughs, “Ye of little faith in me, Y/N. I had those guys--”

     “But the bomb. That one was real--”

     Dick shushes you. “Jason’s friends got me off the bridge before it went off. Guess you guys were too busy watching Jay and Bruce’s fight.”

     Dick slumps back against the pillows and stares at the point where the ceiling and the wall meet. “I hate to say it but Jason thought of everything.”

     Tim grumbles in his sleep and you both turn to him. Once the rise and fall of his chest becomes even, Dick speaks again.

     “This must be hard on Tim, huh?”

     Tim has been tossing and turning in his sleep. When he was in your room, he checked on his wound and was surprised to find that Jason had changed his bandages when he was unconscious.

     You watched Tim’s surprised look slowly morph into one of anguish. He didn’t know how to believe that Jason and the Red Hood were one and the same. Or is he just a persona Jason created to do what he can’t do. To protect the hard truths he wanted Bruce to realize.

     You close your eyes and slowly climb into the bed next to Dick. He makes room for you and you carefully curl up next to him.

     “He told me he didn’t want to be Robin anymore,” you whisper.

     Dick pats your head and hums to himself.

     “If I was Jason and Tim-- I was them. I was Robin and I always thought… I always saw Bruce as more than just Batman. He was my dad and my friend. He was my protector.”

     When Dick’s hand stops moving, you wrap your arms across his chest and hug him tightly. You can feel the even breaths he’s trying to maintain but failing.

     “But after what Jason did--” you can hear him clenching his teeth as he speaks, “After realizing that Bruce will always be Batman--to everyone-- more than anything else in the world… it shatters something in you, like you’re not special...”

     Before your life turned into this living tragedy, you always thought Batman was just a myth. You’ve seen him sure, leaping and gliding over rooftops from your window and from the streets, but you always knew he was just a man playing pretend. Maybe a police officer finally fed up with the red tapes and the joke that is the Gotham justice system.

     You always thought Batman was just another Gothamite who just got sick of being battered and bruised.

     “It doesn’t mean I agree with Jason, though.” Dick’s voice is a little lower. He’s giving you a long look with the same sad and disappointed expression. “His heart’s in the right place but Y/N, he’s the one who doesn’t understand.

     “When Bruce first brought me in, my parents were murdered by this guy-- Tony Zucco-- just a typical low life mobster in Gotham you know-- no one like the Joker. But when I became Robin, Bruce’s greatest concern was whether I would seek vengeance against that guy.”

     Dick’s gaze strays away from you. He’s looking somewhere past his feet, seeing something that’s not there.

     “I had him, Y/N. I tied him up and suspended him over a ten-story building, half hoping he would die, or break every bone in his body from that height and live out the rest of his days as a vegetable.

     “Then Batman came out of the shadows. He didn’t stop me. He didn’t talk to me-- he just put his hand on my shoulder the whole time, while I stood there and held this man’s lifeline in my hands.”

     Dick closes his eyes and takes a deep breath but he doesn’t open them again. The skin at the corner of his eyes crease and there are folds in his brows. When he speaks again, it’s rushed and he sounds exhausted.

     “In the end, I couldn’t do it. I dropped him from the third floor. He broke a few bones and that was it. It didn’t make me feel better. Killing him wouldn’t have brought my parents back-- it also wouldn’t prevent another family from ever being murdered…

     “Jason thinks he can get rid of evil in the world by killing criminals but he can’t. Because everyone is nursing evil inside of them-- I have something evil inside me.”

     Dick’s lips are quivering when he opens his eyes again.

     “Batman is the only one that doesn’t because all he wants to do is protect... everyone.”

     Bruce has heard enough. He’s been standing outside the hospital room with his hand on the handle when Dick started talking about avenging his parents. Desperately, he wants to go in there and join you and Dick. But the writing on your arm pushes him to visit the rooftop instead.

     He steps out to meet Gotham’s foggy air and reaches the end of the ledge when he calls out, “Worried about Dick?” He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t hear Jason’s footsteps approaching him from the shadows, but he knows he’s there. “You should be. He’s here because of you.”

     Jason stops abruptly and clenches his fist. “Wrong. He’s hurt because of your self-righteous courtesy toward the psychotic filth of Gotham.”

     Bruce turns around. Jason doesn’t have his helmet or his mask. He’s wearing a black trench coat but Bruce can still see the Red Hood symbol peeking from his chest. Bruce lifts one corner of his lips. “How does it feel?”

     To Jason it looks like a smirk on its ways to becoming a snarl. Any semblance of a smile on Bruce is unsettling.

     Bruce faces him fully with his hands in his pants pockets. “Now that you’ve killed half of the inmates in Arkham, how does it make you feel?” He watches Jason and lowers his brows and his mouth turns into a straight line. “Like it’s not enough. Right? Like there’s still a few more loose ends-- and you just have to be sure.

     “I know you went after Penguin and Dent after the club last night. I also know you’re still after Harley.” Bruce eyes his clothes.

     Jason tips his head to the side and replies to Bruce with a small smile.

     Bruce tries to control the urge to arrest Jason then and there. He tries to stop being Batman for just one second before he loses his son for good. He takes in a breath and releases it like a sigh. He takes out his hands to gesture to Jason.

     “If I could give you one last piece of advice. As a father. As a friend. Ask yourself if this is the type of person you want Y/N’s soulmate to be. Do you want her to be with a murderer?”

     Jason didn’t expect that. He was ready to have another go at Bruce, maybe their last showdown before he leaves town, but now he just feels insulted.

     “Fuck you, Bruce. I just want her safe-- To do a better job than you did for me. Be better than you.”

     Bruce shakes his head. “You can do that without taking another person’s life, Jason. Killing people will only put your lives in more danger.” He points to Jason’s chest. “And you-- the Red Hood-- are a testament to that.”

     Jason looks down, the crimson symbol on his chest peeking at him from his loose coat. The Red Hood is supposed to be just a means to an end. A myth strong enough to withstand the Bat’s. A new player to hook in the Arkham villains. Not someone who’ll join their ranks.

     Jason looks back to glare at Bruce.

     “I didn’t come here for a lecture.”

     The pause Jason gave didn’t go unnoticed to Bruce.

     “I assume you’re here to see Y/N,” Bruce replies. “She’s talking to Dick. She hasn’t noticed your message yet.”

     Bruce walks up to Jason and sizes him up. Jason watches as his demeanor changes. Bruce stands taller, his shoulders seem to go wider. Jason doesn’t need to see the cape to know who’s standing in front of him now.

     “Leave Gotham before sunrise.” 

     Jason can see himself reflected in Batman’s eyes. He suddenly looks like a child. The kid sleeping on the streets of Gotham. Scavenging in the garbage just to get by. Stealing to survive. 

     Bruce sees his own reflection in Jason’s and it terrifies him. He relaxes his shoulders and leaves his eyes half-lidded. Slowly, he lifts his hand and places it on Jason’s shoulder.

     “Take care of each other, son.”

     Bruce takes back his hand and starts walking to the door but Jason slaps something against his chest. Bruce looks down and sees that it’s an envelope. He looks back at Jason but he’s looking away from him.

     “Give it to Alfred… please.”

     Bruce smiles. He gives Jason a small nod before he takes the letter and leaves the hospital rooftop.

     When Jason hears the doors close shut behind him, he lets the panic settle in. He first feels its claws scratching at his throat on its way up to his mouth, prying it open, making him gasp for air. Jason jumps when the door slams open.

     You see your soulmate standing on the rooftop.

     “Jason?” 

     You run to him and wrap your arms around his shoulder, as far as you can reach. He bends down and you hold him tighter. “You’re okay!” you exclaim against his coat. “I passed Bruce on the way here and I thought--”

     “Y/N.”

     Jason’s voice is shaky. You pull away to take a look at him but he holds you tight against him. You feel it now, the way his lungs are expanding rapidly and his heart is beating hard against his chest. He’s gripping your clothes as he pulls your body closer to him, afraid to let go. Afraid you’ll let go.

     “I want to stay…”

     The Joker had killed him and it killed you. The League had planned on using you against Jason. Scarecrow poisoned you. But now they’re gone. Dead. The Joker. Scarecrow. Black Mask. Bane. Croc. Clayface. Penguin and Dent.

     Jason killed them all.

     “You told me to find a better life. Away from all of this, remember? And I wanted that.” Jason hides his face on your shoulder and you can feel his tears seeping through your shirt. “I wanted that for both of us. But how could I do that if we have so many enemies? How could I do that if they can come after us at any second?”

     Battered and bruised.

     Dick’s wrong. Jason doesn’t have evil inside of him. None of them do. Everyone is just broken. Cracked under the pressure of the city’s heavy fog and manipulated into playing a never ending game of survival.

     You glare at the horizon of the drab cityscape. Yellow lights left on all night. Sirens blaring at every corner. Sewer stench wafting toward the roofs. If Gotham hasn’t broken you yet, it will tomorrow.

     You hold on to Jason tightly.

     “It’s okay, Jason. Everything’s going to be okay.”

     “It’s not, Y/N. We can’t stay-- I can’t stay.”

     “I know…”

     You rub Jason’s back to soothe him. 

     “It’s not just the Joker,” you whisper. “Gotham did this to us. It’s taken something beautiful from us-- our link-- and used it to abuse us. It tore us apart and made us forget who we are.

     “We can’t stay here. We need to leave Gotham not because we’re not welcome. But because we need to heal, Jason.”

     Slowly, you pull away from Jason to take off his coat. He watches as you unzip his kevlar vest and lets you take it off of him.

     You stare at the symbol in your hands and silently thank it. Then you drop it on the floor. Jason is too stunned to stop you when you reach for one of his guns inside his coat. You fire two shots into the vest.

     This is something you feel you need to do. Jason got to kill the Joker, the phantom menace that has haunted your dreams and waking moments. You only get this. The barrel is still smoking when you return it to him.

     You pick up the vest and walk to the ledge of the roof. You pull back to gather as much momentum as you can and throw the vest out and down into the busy streets. You watch the Red Hood fall to its death until you can’t see it anymore.

     Jason holds your hand and you turn to face him. He watches the look on your face, determined and unmoving. As if you hold all the cards and you know exactly where to go. He’s never seen such an expression on you.

     He squeezes your hand

     “I’ll go anywhere with you, Y/N.”

     Just before the sun rises over, you’re already on a bus heading West, far enough away that even Wayne tower’s shadow can’t reach you. You pat the bag on your lap that has some clothes and your new identities.

     As the bus crosses the bridge, Jason is watching the subtle pink and orange light peeking over the ocean that meets Gotham harbor. It’s a rare sight and one you’ll both miss. He turns to you.

     “Hey,” Jason calls. “Look at your arm.” He takes out a pen. You watch as Jason writes on his arm and finally finishes his last words to you.

     I love you.

END.

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

[is-it-art-tho]

This is Chapter 5!

Chapter 1.  Chapter 2   Chapter 3.   Chapter 4

Summary: Jason gets a visitor. It doesn't go well.

Jason tumbled through his apartment window just as the sun was starting to rise. What he’d meant to be a quick recon mission had turned into an all-out battle royale and now his whole body ached for sleep and painkillers as he shed his clothes on his way to his bedroom, leaving a trail of muddy gear in his wake.

As soon as his legs hit his bed, he let himself fall forward across it. And even though the rest of his place was slowly flooding with light, his room was still mercifully dim and cool. He nudged the door closed with the tip of his toe, grateful once again for his blackout curtains as he blocked out the light from the hall, plunging the room further into the dark.

Jason didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he finally woke up it was with a jolt, a sudden snapping open of his eyes while the rest of him remained perfectly still.

Something was wrong.

He could sense it in the air, could feel it like a prickling along the back of his neck. Without making a sound, his hand located the gun in the top drawer of his nightstand, and he moved across the room to press himself into the wall by the door.

He listened.

If he hadn’t been who he was, he might not have heard it at all – the traffic outside was noisier than whoever had broken into his apartment. But he was who he was and he did hear it, gentle footsteps moving around his living room and kitchen.

He waited for the telltale sounds of theft – appliances being shuffled, drawers opening and shutting – but there was none of that. Only quiet movements, low murmuring. Finally the footsteps grew more pronounced as they headed down the hall and paused just outside his door.

The knob twisted carefully, slowly, and Jason cocked his gun. From where he was pressed into the corner, the opening door shielded him from view as the intruder stepped in and looked around, and before they could fully turn his way, Jason had a gun pressed into their back through the fabric of a black cape.

“Replacement,” Jason said by way of greeting, his adrenaline ebbing significantly but not altogether.

“So you are alive. Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Red demanded, turning around to face him as Jason set the gun aside.

Before Jason could even answer, Red was talking to someone else, a finger to his ear. “No. He isn’t here. But I got Jason.”

Pause.

“I really don’t think–” Red Robin paused again, looking pained. “All right. No, I know. I know.” He returned his focus to Jason.

“Dick’s missing,” he explained. “It’s been three days.”

“He’s a big boy. Just because he missed family brunch once or twice doesn’t mean–”

Red Robin reached into his belt and tossed him a plastic bag. “Found it at the bottom of a storm drain. His car was abandoned, too.”

Inside the bag was Dick’s cell phone, caked in grime and smashed.

“Shit,” Jason breathed. Tossing the phone back, he slipped past Red and into the hall where his gear was still strewn haphazardly across the floor. “You trace his suit?”

“He’s not wearing it. And the comm system’s been on and off so we haven’t been able to make contact. By now he could be out of range or–” Red broke off whatever he was about to say. “Or something else.”

“Shit,” Jason said again, hopping into his pants. It was only when he was securing his belt that he noticed Red Robin fidgeting in the doorway. “You gotta piss or something?”

The younger boy stopped shifting. “Have you… heard from him?”

“Golden Boy? Yeah, we got cocktails on Tuesday.”

Red blinked at him.

“I’m kidding.” Jason tugged his gloves on and flexed his fingers a bit before finally sliding on his helmet. He was already straddling the windowsill, halfway out when he noticed Red Robin wasn’t following. “You coming or what?”

The younger boy looked physically ill now. Jason could practically hear his heart racing from across the room.

He waited.

“Where were you Halloween night?” Red asked.

Jason sighed. “Is this about that stupid party? Listen I’m sorry if I ruined your ‘theme’ or whatever but there was no way in hell I was ever gonna–”

“It’s not. It’s not about that.”

“Then why do you care where I was?”

The kid’s narrow shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath. “We’ve got you on surveillance a few blocks from where the party was that night. Around the same time Dick left. What were you doing out there?”

Jason stared, his face paling behind the helmet as the realization hit him, churned in his stomach like something rotten.

He was a suspect.

Of course, he was a suspect.

“Look,” Red began as if sensing the change in the air. “I’m just– ever since that thing happened between you two–”

“What ‘thing?’” Jason asked, pulling his leg back inside and standing. He could see now that Red Robin hadn’t come here for backup. This was an interrogation. He tugged off his helmet and tossed it onto the couch.

“I have no idea because Dick wouldn’t say anything. But it’s obvious something happened. And I just… have a few questions.”

“Is this you asking or the bat?”

“Does it make a difference?”

Yes.

“Nope.” Jason shrugged off his jacket, grateful for the distraction as a thousand different emotions clashed and swirled through him. His face felt hot, and there was a piercing ache in the center of his chest; if he hadn’t known any better, he could’ve sworn he was bleeding under his armor.

If Dick’s comments had been the blade, surely this was the twisting of the knife.

“I was trick or treating with a kid from The Yards,” he explained at last.

Red looked supremely unimpressed. “I’m being serious, Jason.”

“So am I.”

Jason looked him dead in the eyes, and whatever Red saw in the older boy’s face must have been confirmation enough, because finally he sighed, his shoulders sagging.

“I’m sorry,” Red offered miserably. “I told them it was stupid to even ask, but they thought–”

“I know what they–” Jason cut himself off before he started shouting. He sighed. “I know. Just go.”

Red looked like he was about to say something, then paused, his eyes flicking away. “Copy that,” he said, presumably to someone over the comm.

Jason stepped aside as the kid made his way to the window.

With a boot perched on the sill, Red Robin turned and said, “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t – I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”

When Jason offered him nothing in return, Red Robin nodded as if understanding, and leapt into the night.

Jason shut the window.

____________

Red Robin cursed, peering into a grimy warehouse. Another dead end. How many freaking abandoned buildings could one city possibly have?

“He’s not here,” he said, flipping up from the window and onto the roof to scan the tops of the surrounding buildings. “Next location.”

“Okay,” Oracle said. “Just give me–”

“West Side Heights are a no-go,” Spoiler announced.

A moment later, Robin added, “The tenements on Ninth are empty, as well.”

“Huntington to Jefferson is clear.” Batman.

“Okay, okay just give me second!” Oracle shouted. Red flinched, his ear twinging as she added more calmly, “Let me think."

He could practically hear the gears in her mind working, could feel the tension crackling over the moments of silence that followed.

When Dick hadn’t come back to pick them up from the party, they hadn’t thought much of it. It wouldn’t have been wildly out of character for him to get caught up with something and lose track of time. And they’d been happy for the excuse to borrow a car to get home anyways.

Even in the days that followed, they’d all had different assumptions about what might have been going on with him. Maybe he was undercover somewhere. Maybe he’d gone radio silent for an especially challenging case. All of these things had happened before. Even so, Red Robin could see now that they – that he – should have been more alert.

Three days. It had taken him three days to notice that something was wrong.

He glanced eastward. A faint gold had begun to bleed into the clouds and dust the rooftops. Soon they’d have to stop, or at least switch to more inconspicuous means of searching. He tried not to think about all the statistics involving missing persons and the importance of the first few hours. How much time they had already lost.

Not lost. Wasted.

But now that they were actively looking, somehow it felt like things were still getting worse.

He groaned, bracing his hands on his knees as his anxiety and frustration mingled bitterly with fresh guilt. He’d expected the conversation with Jason to be awkward; he hadn’t expected it to be so… sad.

The look on Jason’s face…

“Oracle,” Batman said at last, a ripple of warning in his baritone that snapped Red Robin upright. Wallowing would have to wait.

Right now, he needed to focus.

“I know,” Oracle answered. “Red, you take the old abbey on Acreage. Spoiler, there’s an office building under construction on–”

“H-hello…?” a quavering voice interjected.

Red froze, his arm outstretched with his grapple. No one responded, and the silence that followed was so complete he almost thought his comm had shut off.

“Ora..cle?”

“Dick?” she nearly shouted. “Oh my– where are you? Are you okay?”

“I… don’t know.” Dick’s voice was hollow, almost distracted.

“Wait,” Dick said a little firmer. “Historical district. I don’t know wh–” Then he hacked and coughed, and there was the distinct sound of something splattering onto a floor.

Red Robin was already swinging through the air towards the historical district when Oracle asked, “Are you hurt?”

“I­–”

A nearby explosion sent a shockwave through the air, throwing off the arc of Red Robin’s swing and sending him careening into the side of a building. “Agh!”

He retracted the grapple, letting it pull him up the rest of the way until he was able to crawl over the lip of the roof and look around.

The bottom floor of an apartment building down the street was engulfed in flames. A moment later, another explosion went off several blocks away. And another after that, distant booms and plumes of fiery smoke billowing into the early morning sky.

“What’s going on?” Red Robin asked, sprinting towards the building closest to him. “Are you guys seeing this?”

[ask-them-bois]

Ancient Sounds 5/5

AS.pt.1 AS.pt.2 AS.pt.3 AS.pt.4

Tw: Mild blood, cult

The tapping, clicking sound of Oliver’s cane on the ancient stone was the only sound the blind oliveblood heard as he navigated the dark tunnels with ease. 

He wore his black ice skating uniform; an outfit he never wore on the rink. It was sleeveless, to show off his tattoo, but had a high neck. It clung to his body like a second skin, the gems splattered across it like bloodstains glittering like fire in the faint light. It matched the black band that covered his eyes. A feather-shouldered, glittering cape flowed behind him, just barely kissing the ground, where his black and silver heels walked. The golden rings on his horn were traded for black-gold, although the emerald that dangled from the tip stayed.

Faint sounds, that would have been invisible to less-trained ears, drew Oliver deeper into the underground. Deeper and deeper he went, until the smell of fresh air was all but gone.

He was walking through a long abandoned brooding cavern, left to collapse and be used by wild lusii. That had never happened, though. Instead of a home for beasts, it had become a sanctuary for much rarer creatures.

The noises grew louder, louder, until Oliver could pick out the sounds of voices, music, and the clink of glasses individually. She rounded the final bend, and entered the largest, deepest chamber.

“Master!”

“The Master has arrived!”

“The Phoenix is here! Someone fetch the other master!”

The voices of Oliver’s Black Hand made them smile.

“Good evening, my lovelies!” They cried, only to be answered with uproarious cheers. The crowd parted to let them through, only to surge forward and crowd around at the same time, the members trying to touch their leader’s cape, cane, anywhere they could reach.

Oliver purred, holding out a hand to them and letting them touch his fingers, kiss his palm and knuckles. “Hello, my dears, hello, yes!” He crooned gleefully, as if he was speaking to grubs. He blindly cupped the face of a believer, stroking their scarred and pockmarked cheek, before releasing them. Immediately, the crowd surged towards that troll, wanting to touch their face, too.

Oliver snickered, as the crowd had moved enough to let her through to her place; part of the ground was raised in a gentle ramp, up to a perch that let her oversee the entire cavern. Not that she did much of the overseeing. Still, she stopped and turned back towards the cavern, her ears doing the looking for her.

She could hear the ever-so-faint buzz of the strings of lights that were mounted along the walls and ceilings, under the music that pumped from the speakers.

The smell of food to her left indicated the secondary chamber was offering food. The sharp smell of polish told her someone had cleaned the altar and shine on the right. Incense pumped from burning orbs on the ceiling, filling the cave with the smell of spice.

Even that, though, could not cover up the smell of rot; the smell of disease and sickness that clung to nearly every one of her underlings. She could hear their wheezing breaths, their croaking words from raw throats, the fluttery, uncertain beats of their blood-pumpers. Among them, those who were not sick still smelled wrong; mutant bloods, those with extra limbs, eyes, tails, or just off colored ichor in their veins. They held up those too weak to stand as the crowd fell silent and turned to look up at their leader.

“Good evening, my brothers and sisters!” Oliver said again, beaming down at them, “It’s been much too long since we were in one another’s graces. It pained me to be away from my sweet siblings for so long, my very soul ached to be near you all again.”

There were murmurs of ascent from the congregation. Oliver simply waited for them to be silent again.

“I can feel the pain you have all suffered since we last met, my loves. As always, the shrine is open to those in need of the Slaughtering Scapegrace’s light. The bowl is out for any who can spare their caigers for their siblings, and for those who need to take coin to cover their expenses. And my ears are open, to hear your voices.

Tonight, not only will you all be graced with my presence, and the voice of our lord, but I have a very, very special treat for you. But first- where is he? Where is my most precious diamond, the second master of the Apocalyptic Blight’s grace?” Oliver held a hand out, searching, pleading.

There was shuffling movement and the sudden sound of running footsteps.

“I’m here, baby!” The loud, bellowing, gleeful voice of Oliver’s morail cried. He skidded to a stop and fell to his knees before the oliveblood, grasping their hand.

Instantly, Oliver was flushed through with the pinkest, palest adoration. That was the voice they knew all too well, a hand they knew as if it were their own.

“Welcome home, Bohwie Akshai.” Oliver breathed.

Bohwie looked up at his morail’s face and smiled, kissing their knuckles once more. He rose from his knees and embraced the oliveblood, who instantly clung to him in return, pressing their face into his chest.

“How I’ve missed you, my love.” Oliver breathed, her claws digging into his back.

“I missed you, too, Olly.” Bohwie crooned, pressing a kiss to Oliver’s hair before he pulled away.

Oliver smiled up at him, before she turned to address the watching crowd, still holding the cerulean’s hand. “My sweet siblings of darkened fingers, now I may tell you the wondrous gift I have brought for you!” She announced. There was a ripple of murmured excitement as she dug in her pocket. She pulled out an old, recently cleaned and polished, bronze pocket watch on a black chain.

He held it aloft, so that they could all see it. “Over four hundred and sixty-one solar sweeps ago, a man named Dmitri Akshai stood in these very caverns. He was the first troll to feel Neviserrath Apocriyna’s power, the first to be gifted his grace. He reached into Grimruinox, the realm of our god, and was duly embraced by the Shifting Darkness. He was named the Hierophant, for he was the leader of our band, the interpreter of our god’s word.  He founded the Black Hand, so that all may be embraced by the Horrendous Black.

When Neviserrath claimed him, none were strong enough to hold our lord’s might, and the Black Hand faded into the night. Now I, with his descendant at my side, have rebirthed the Hierophant’s work!” She clutched Bohwie’s hand and held it aloft, and the watching crowd broke into a frenzy of applause and cheers.

“From the ashes and fire, as your phoenix I was born, and with the Hierophant’s blood-son at my side, we gathered you!” Oliver cried over them, “You, our greatest, strongest, and most noble of siblings! While the Empire spits upon you, buries you, and mocks you, they are blinder than even I to the power you possess! Weak as your bodies may be, your souls burn bright enough that even I can see them! Tonight, let that flame consume you!”

Descending from her perch, she walked over to the shine, pulling Bohwie with her, and laid the pocket watch on the altar as if she were laying down a newly hatched grub.

“Tonight, my siblings of blackened grace, we call back the first of our kind, the one who began it all! We hail is name, only second to Neviserrath, in the hope that he will honor us, come before us, and know of our greatness!” He cried, grinning. He turned towards Bohwie, his smile softening. “There is only one more thing we need, my love.” He said, suddenly quiet, the crowd hushing so they could hear him. Holding up Bohwie’s hand, he ran his fingers over the cerulean’s palm. “The blood of our first leader rushes through you. Would you not give but a few drops to meet him?”

Bohwie closed his hand, gently squeezing Oliver’s fingers. “For our siblings, for our god, I would let you bleed me dry, my love.” He breathed, his voice trembling with excitement. “I need only a blade to do the deed with.”

Instantly, the crowd responded. The smell of steel was sharp in the air as each of them produced their own blades and held them out to their masters.

“Use mine!”

“No, mine!”

“Mine, please!”

Bohwie giggled, giddy, and reached across the altar to take one, thanking the troll who offered it. Turning back to his morail, Oliver cupped Bohwie’s free hand in their own as Bohwie placed the knife to his palm.

With a flick of his wrist, he scored the blade across his hand, and watched as his deep blue blood beaded up, pooling in the lines of his hands.

Oliver breathed deeply, the iron tang of blood burning her lungs. Cradling Bohwie’s hand, she extended it over the altar and released him, leaving him to turn his hand. She heard the blood splatter on the stone, her breath hitching in her chest.

“The blood is on the watch, my love.” Bohwie reported, a smile in his voice, “What now?”

“Now it’s my turn.” Oliver rumbled. Bohwie stepped back, and Oliver moved to stand before the altar. He pressed his hands together as if he were praying, before he reached up and undid the ribbon around his eyes. He let it flutter to the floor and opened his sightless, black and green eyes.

Oliver placed their hands on the altar and bowed their head.

There was a silent, tense moment, all eyes on the Blind Phoenix, as the oliveblood took a deep, slow breath.

Then with a bellow, he threw back his head and slammed his hands onto the altar.

Light and noise exploded around the shrine, the roar of wind and fire consuming the Black Hand leader as the light blinded the congregation. They cried out and shielded their eyes, clapped their hands over their ears, and shied away from the brunt, almost physical force of power that burst from the altar. There were pops and cracks as the strings of lights shattered and snapped. Ceramic shards hailed from the broken incense orbs.

All of it happened in the span of a moment, before the light vanished. Torches, set in sconces around the walls, suddenly burst into flame, returning light to the cavern.

The members of the crowd hesitantly looked towards the altar again, to see a physical, black shadow manifesting on the stone. It grew thicker, more solid by the second, taking on the form of a troll. The shadow moved, rolling off the altar and standing, before the darkness that cocooned it vanished.

And there, in the flickering light of the torches’ fire, stood the Hierophant.

The elder cerulean blinked, looking around in visible confusion, as if he’d been suddenly woken.

Behind him, Oliver had pitched forward and fell to her knees, shaking and panting with exhaustion. Still, she pulled herself up and turned her head towards the older troll. Bohwie stepped closer and pulled her to her feet, letting her lean on his side.

“Dmitri Akshai,” She rasped, forcing a smile. Hierophant turned to her. “I am Oliver Maddel, your humble servant and successor to your throne. I welcome you, back among the living and among your siblings of the darkened claws.”

“Dmitri,” Bohwie began, “I am Bohwie, your descendant.”

The Hierophant looked between the two of them. “It is an honor to meet you, Bohwie Akshai, descendant.” He said. His voice was deep, rich, and firm. He bowed slightly to Bohwie, before he turned to Oliver. “But you,” He continued, glaring over the top of his glasses, “are not my successor.”

Oliver’s eyebrows rose and he stood up, able to stand without his morail now. “I do not understand, my master.”

“I am not your master, either. There is another. Neviserrath tells me they wear the robes, when you clearly do not.”

“R- robes?” Oliver repeated.

Bohwie suddenly gasped. “Musrio!” He snarled. Oliver stiffened.

“What about him?”

“Hierophant, his- his robes- they look just like Musrio’s! Only blue!”

Oliver’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Musrio?” Hierophant repeated. He closed his eyes momentarily, a blissful smile on his face. “Yes. That is his name. Musrio is the one who succeeds me. Neviserrath chose him, just as he chose me, then.”

“But- but master, surely that is a mistake! Musrio- he- he wants to be rid of us!” Oliver cried. She lurched around the altar and grabbed Hierophant’s sleeve, her face tilted up towards his, her expression pleading. “He wishes the Black Hand gone! He does not worship Neviserrath, only uses his powers like playthings! He stole our chosen child, the one who would truly hold our god’s power and change this wretched world!”

“No, Oliver.” Hierophant removed the oliveblood’s hands from his sleeve and stared down at him coolly, “It is you who plays with Neviserrath’s gifts. You were not chosen. You took your powers, did you not? Demanded our god to give them to you? You took what was not meant to be taken, only given. Musrio was gifted his powers, and his robes- the robes meant for the harbinger. There is no “chosen child”. The holy war you insist on fighting does not exist. There is only one who could ever dispel our god, but she is far, far from Alternia.”

“But- but I brought the Black Hand back from the ashes! I am the Blind Phoenix!” Oliver insisted, his voice cracking.

“The Blind Phoenix? Is that a name you chose yourself, or did Neviserrath give it to you?” Heirophant inquired, a soft, cruel smile on his face.

“I… I-”

Hierophant chuckled. He adjusted his robes and turned away, heading for the exit. “Oh, my dear Oliver Maddel. You have no idea what powers you toy with. You are ignorant, nay, stupid, to take what is not yours. Our god does not love you. You are being set up to fail.”

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

EVERYONE PLEASE WELCOME BOHWIE AND DMITRI “HIEROPHANT” AKSHAI!!!

[grey-water-colors]

Missing you Damian Wayne X Reader Part 4

Part 4 is finally here! I am so sorry for the wait. I have been super busy prepping for college and then moving in. This is the finale and I hope you like the ending. I’m thinking of writing a separate part for this, explaining how I wrote this. It would just be all the research and planning that I did. Let me know if that sounds interesting. 

Warnings: WOO BOY THERE’S A FEW. Fighting. Cursing, like the F-bomb. Switchblades. Kidnapping. Trauma. Not as many as I thought, but be safe everyone.

Pairing: Damian Wayne X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1265

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3

Big thanks to @oreosmama for the title!

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

Patrol was slow, so Damian went back to the Batcave and train a bit before he went to bed. He knew school was going to be excruciatingly slow because Y/N was coming back tomorrow.

He saw Drake sitting at the Batcomputer watching for crime around Gotham.

“Drake,” he said coldly.

“Demon spawn,” Tim threw back.

It was quiet for a couple minutes while Damian started training and Tim went back to watching for crime, then a distress signal went off causing both of them to jump.

“It’s not Bruce,” Tim said as he picked up the signal to see who it was. “Damian don’t freak out,” Tim’s voice was strong but sounded scared.

“What? Who is it, Drake?” Damian had a feeling he knew. His heart was in his throat. He hoped it wasn’t who he thought it was, but the only reason Tim would tell him not to panic was because of Y/N.

“Y/N’s activated her emergency bracelet.”

“Fuck!” He shouted. He should have brought her home the minute he felt something was wrong the night before. He knew something wasn’t right.

“Father,” he called into the comms. “You need to get back to the cave as soon as possible. Somethings happened to Y/N”

15 minutes later Batman, Robin, and Nightwing were walking through the Zeta Tube and following Y/N’s signal. Tim, Alfred, and Barbra were back home helping to track her and be ready for when they got back.

They came to an abandoned building just outside London. An expensive car was parked out front.

~~~

Y/N woke up with the biggest headache she’d ever had. Her vision was spotted, and her ears were ringing. She tried to move but found she couldn’t. Her hands were tied to the chair she was sat in.

“So, she finally wakes up,” a familiar voice calls from somewhere she can’t see. “I really hoped I hadn’t killed you. You ran away before the first dose could fully work, but I got you this time around. I was worried I had given you too big a dose.”

A man who looked vaguely familiar walked into your line of sight.

“Wh- who are you?” your voice was groggy, like you hadn’t spoken in weeks.

A laugh and he turned around to pace the floor. “It doesn’t really matter who I am, it matters who you are.”

“Why would it matter who I am?”

“You’re a famous artist and singer,” He turned towards you with a sick smile. “Lovely voice by the way. You also happen to be dating the son of one of the richest men on earth, whether you like it or not, your worth a pretty penny.”

“You’re holding me for a ransom?”

Another laugh. “No. I’m going to sell you. Whoever wants you, but they have to pay the right price of course. I didn’t go through all this work for it to not work out.”

“You’ve done this before?” You questioned.

“Yes. I’d call it my job. I collect young ladies like yourself and give them homes. I go to galas and charity events and scout out people, then I get my target and from there it’s a piece of cake.”

It clicked in your head. “Your from the Hotel Event in Florence!”

“I scouted you out of all the pretty girls, you should feel special.”

You spat at him. “Your a bastard!” You struggled in your seat to try and get out. “I’ll never let you do this! Someone will find me an-“ You were cut off by a slap. Your head painfully snapped to the side and your chair tipping over. You landed on your side, and you think something broke, but all you could feel was red hot pain. Your head pounded and your vision exploded in colors. The drug was still very much in your system.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him pulling out a knife, his face turning red with anger.

“You’re getting on my nerves little girl. You’ll find I have a very short temper.”

He stalked closer while you still struggled and he raised the knife, but before he could do anything, the switch blade was knocked out of his hand by a familiar looking object.

Suddenly everything was in motion, shouting and then there were bodyguards fighting some people. You tried to focus on who was, hopefully, saving you. All you saw was a black cape, but that was all you needed. If Batman was here, then Robin wasn’t far behind. You felt someone cutting your bonds and when you were free you stood up or tried too. Your head was pounding, and your vision was spinning and soon you were falling towards the ground until someone caught you.

You saw a flash of red and the yellow of a cape. Damian was fighting, specifically the guy who had kidnapped you, but if Robin was fighting with Batman then who was helping you?

“Are you ok to stand?” a voice asked in your ear. You knew that voice, but never quite so serious. Dick was almost always making puns and bad jokes when you were around, which was 98% of the time.

You shook your head and Nightwing picked you up bridal style and started to carry you out of the building. Before you blacked out you locked eyes with Robin, then darkness.

~~~

That feeling when you wake up and you aren’t quite sure where you are is terrifying, and it hits you hard. Were you still in London? Are you back in Gotham? Were you safe?

You knew the answer to the last question, the familiar hand in yours told you that you were safe. You were always safe with him. You also knew you wouldn’t be let out of his sight for at least a month.

You opened your eyes and let them adjust to the light in the room. You were in the room you shared with Damian, technically it was his room and you just had clothes, toiletries, and some of your knick-knacks. You’d had your own room at Wayne Manor for a while, but you were almost never in it, so it was put to other use.

You looked over to see a sleeping Damian hunched over on the bed, one hand cradling his head and the other holding yours. When you were sure of where you were and that you were fully awake, you squeezed his hand to gently wake him up.

He stirred slowly and you smiled. Despite what you’d think, Damian Wayne was slow waking up. You’d heard from Tim that when he had first gotten to the Manor that even the smallest noise would wake him up and he’d be on full alert. As he had gotten comfortable with being there and slowly realized that no one was going to attack him in his sleep, he started waking up slower and slower. You thought it was cute and it made you feel warm inside knowing he felt safe enough with you to not always be on alert.

“Dami,” you whispered.

He looked up at you and just stared for a while, until realization clicked in his eyes.

“Beloved! You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

You gave him a small smile. “My head hurts a little, but I feel fine other than that. How long was I out?”

“It’s been around 14 hours. Alfred said you just needed to sleep off the drug the thug used.”

Your smile fell at the reminder of what happened, and you felt Damian squeeze your hand.

“I don’t think I want to travel anymore; I don’t think I want to leave the Manor ever again,” you whispered.

Damian climbed onto the bed to sit beside you and pulled you into a hug. You burrowed into his shirt and wrapped your arms around him.

“You’re going to have to leave eventually, beloved, but I’ll be with you the whole time.”

You nodded and felt tears stream down your face. “I missed you. I missed you so much it hurt.”

He held you a little tighter. “I missed you as well, Y/N. I always miss you when you’re not with me.”

“I love you Dami.”

“I love you too, Beloved.”

Taglist:

@lostredrobin @random-fandom-girl-24

[bookishbarnowl]

A Night Masked With Changes: Chapter 1

Once a month, the town held a Masquerade Ball. Ostensibly, it was a chance to catch up with your neighbors and enjoy a night of carefree revelry. In reality, it was paradise for anyone who wanted to get away from who they were during the day. Not everyone hid their identities, but most did, and they came from all walks of life.

Clay's finally ready to attend the Ball himself, determined to explore the world beyond the castle. Romance is not something he accounted for. Whoops.

Warnings: None

Relationships: Dream & Technoblade (twins), Dream/George, Dream & Wilbur, Dream & Sapnap, Dream & Fundy, Phil/Kristen

Word Count: 1,929

Ao3 Link: Here

Chapters: 1 (here) 2 3 …

The clock in the Great Hall had just sounded twice, and the castle was silent. Guards were just beginning to nod at their posts, servants had long since retired to bed, and the royal family should have been asleep in their beds. The young crown prince was defying expectations.

Clay carefully shut the door of his bedroom with a quiet click, his usual extravagant attire exchanged for a simplistic suit of forest green and a dark cloak. He’d spent the last few nights working on his mask, a blank white disc carefully fitted to his face and painted with a plain black smile. It was embellished with stylized ferns and edged with painstakingly painted daisies. He was proud of it, perhaps embarrassingly so. Art was not one of his strong points.

He spared a quick glance towards the door a few rooms down from his own, knowing his twin, Technoblade, was asleep inside. He’d seriously considered dragging him along on this little excursion he had planned, but ultimately decided he couldn’t risk it. His brother could carry a secret to his grave if he wanted to, but he was a serious stick in the mud about rule breaking. Clay’s general rule of thumb with his brother was that if it could get him in trouble, he kept it to himself, and he really didn’t want his dad to find out about this. This was most definitely in that category, so tonight he was alone.

The other person he’d desperately wanted to confide in was George, his best friend. Technically, he was Clay’s valet and manservant, but over the years their relationship had evolved into something much deeper than that. They spent most of the day together and their friendship had gone from tentative giggling at jokes the other made to raucous late night gossiping sessions and sharing practically everything with each other. George had been the first person brave enough to make fun of him (besides Techno- he didn’t count) and Dream found that he actually liked being the butt of a joke when he could laugh with the person and snap back with some witty retort. George wasn’t afraid of him, and when one was the crown prince, unprejudiced companionship was a valuable commodity.

His friend was currently asleep in the servants quarters far below him in the depths of the castle, sharing a bedroom with fellow servant Floris. After a lot of troubled consideration, he’d decided that he would keep this escapade a secret, at least for now. The worst that could happen to him was he’d be grounded or punished by his dad, but George could lose his job or even worse if he was discovered helping Clay sneak out of the castle. His father wouldn’t care whose idea it had been, only that they were both involved. He was not willing to put that on the line, so no matter how guilty it made him feel, he was going to do this by himself. Besides, Floris was a light sleeper. It would be hard to avoid waking him up.

He slipped down the hall and crept down the stairs on cat feet, tying the strings of the mask behind his head as he went. Getting out of the castle was a simple matter, he’d long ago discovered a window that was loose in its casing and large enough to fit through while being light enough to lift by himself. He could slot it back into place from either side of the wall, which made it the perfect escape route.

The outer wall was a bit more of a challenge, but there was a reason he’d waited until this exact moment. There were only twenty minutes until the next change of the guard, so they would be tired and bleary from four hours of alertness. If he was careful, he could sneak up to a parapet and let himself down with a rope, which is exactly what he did.

He landed on the ground with a soft thud, tying his rope to a nearby tree so that it couldn’t be pulled back up without a hassle. He checked that his mask was secure on his face, then darted off into the night, bound for the brightly lit village in the distance.

Once a month, the town held a Masquerade Ball. Ostensibly, it was a chance to catch up with your neighbors and enjoy a night of carefree revelry. In reality, it was paradise for anyone who wanted to get away from who they were during the day. Not everyone hid their identities, but most did, and they came from all walks of life. Some came in shoddily patched linen with burlap sacks over their faces and some came in fine silk with embroidered bandanas hiding the countenances of high profile officials, but all were treated with the same welcoming spirit. One’s real name was a well-respected secret, and unmasking someone was the ultimate act of cowardice. Anyone who broke that trust would be punished without remorse.

Clay had known about the event for quite some time now, having heard a few details from George, and had finally worked up the courage to attend himself. He was sick and tired of everyone looking at him and seeing someone to be impressed and flattered. He wanted to meet someone as himself for once. Tonight, he wasn’t the crown prince. With the mask and costume on, he became Dream, his idealized self.

He snuck into the town square through an inconspicuous alleyway, ducking into the crowd and hoping he hadn’t been noticed by too many people. He wasn’t looking to draw attention yet. He got a few looks, but most people were content to return to their own conversations and pay him no mind. He was about to sigh in relief, glad to have made it in unscathed, when someone touched his shoulder. He jumped and rapidly turned to face them.

It was a man in a pale tunic and dark pants, the bottom half of his face covered with a cream-colored bandana and sparkling black eyes winking mischievously at him from the upper half.

“Welcome to the Ball,” he offered cheerfully. “You seem like you haven’t been here before.”

Clay nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet without giving himself away.

“Well, if you’d like a dance partner, I would be honored to make your acquaintance.” The man bowed cheekily, extending his hand in invitation.

Clay couldn’t think of a good reason to refuse. He was Dream now, and Dream took risks. Dream could afford to dance with strangers without fear of judgement. He nodded again and took the man’s hand. He was promptly whisked off to the center of the square, where about a dozen couples were dancing to the lively music.

He was grateful for the years of rigorous lessons he had to fall back on as the masked man swept him into the forms of the dance with confident ease. His new friend was leading, but he found he didn’t care much and excitement thrilled in his heart as the man swung him into a dip with a brilliant smile that was obvious even with his mouth obscured.

He felt so alive he could fly, grinning like a madman as the two of them twirled across the square in perfect step. His cape swirled behind him in effortless elegance when he spun, the lightweight fabric echoing his thoughts as he realized he could never happily go back to the heavy woolen mantle he wore to formal events. He’d never danced like this outside of the privacy of his lessons, and it was exhilarating.

The last measure of the song sounded with a triumphant zing, moving into a more sedate melody. His dance partner bowed once again, breathing hard and eyes wild with delight. Clay, equally tired and elated, bowed low in return.

“May I steal you for one more?” the man asked, nodding towards the other couples, who had transitioned to a stately waltz.

In response, Clay caught his arm and took the lead, placing a firm hand on his waist and gently guiding them into the first steps of the dance. They were the epitome of grace, well-matched in skill and dexterity as they flowed through the figures of the waltz. He started to notice a few people staring, growing aware that compared to most of the other attendees this level of expertise was unusual. He decided he didn’t mind the eyes on him as much as he usually did.

With the relaxed pace of the slower song, he was free to fully take in the man in front of him. He was a couple inches shorter than Clay himself and had a shock of dark hair that stuck up in all directions, his skin a few shades shy of olive. The hand clasped in his was callused around the fingers but not the palms, so he probably wasn’t a manual laborer, but he was still well-muscled. His costume was simple but the fabric was a far cry from the coarse cotton of many people here.

Clay estimated he was somewhere in the upper middle class, but he had no idea who was standing in front of him. He felt sure he would’ve remembered those impish eyes if he’d seen them before.

He wondered how he himself looked. He knew his height and fitness weren’t anything to scoff at, and compliments on his appearance were common, but what impression did he make without his famous face? He felt mysterious and intriguing, and certainly something about him had attracted this man’s attention. It felt good, knowing that he was interesting enough to seek out even without his title. He was sure his joy must be showing on his face, and he wished he didn’t need to hide it.

“So,” his partner began, interrupting his thoughts, “do you speak, masked man? I would love to know the voice that matches such exquisite dance skills.”

Clay cleared his throat, pitching his voice a few tones higher than usual. “My ability is no greater than yours,” he said appreciatively.

The bright eye-smile was back. “It’s rare I find such a well-trained dance partner, good sir. Do you have something I can call you?”

“Dream,” he answered warmly. “And what can I call you?”

“Sapnap,” he replied. “And what are you seeking tonight?”

He thought for a moment. He obviously couldn’t say he was escaping royal responsibilities. “An unbiased eye,” he admitted after a brief hesitation. “Why are you here?”

“Why, to dance!” Sapnap laughed. “It’s a Ball, after all. You’re the best partner I’ve seen since the Blood God, and I’ve been coming every month for ten years.”

“Who’s the Blood God? Are they a regular attendee?” he questioned, interest piqued. The name itself evoked fear and awe, but a certain majesty tempered it. And they were apparently a dancer as well.

“He comes most times. He’s here tonight, actually. He keeps to himself, but I finally convinced him to favor me with a dance a few months ago. He’s a very strong performer. He’s dressed in a red cloak and a pig mask, if you’d like to find him later.” He glanced over Clay’s shoulder and his eyes widened. “Or you can meet him now. He’s coming this way.” His expression switched into something more nervous. “To be quite frank, he intimidates me. Act cool.”

Clay laughed lightly and finished the waltz, bowing to Sapnap one more time before turning around to meet the Blood God. His jaw dropped as he saw who was pushing his way through the crowd, suddenly very glad indeed that his face was covered.

[katelynn-a-fan]

Sleepless Nights and Broken Promises (3)

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Word count: 3819!!!!!!!

Deceit caught Virgil as he slumped over, limp from the sword to the gut.

He looked into Virgil’s unconscious face with disbelief and shock. 

Virgil… saved him... saved… Deceit...

Everyone stood stock still in silence for a moment at the shock of what just happened. But then Righ-Moral-Patton broke the silence with a way too small sounding “Virgil?”

That seemed to break everyone out of their shock and a bunch of things happened at once, most of which Deceit couldn’t pay attention to as he searched for any sign of life in his form- no still his  best friend’s face. Though maybe more if Virgil was truly truthful in what he said.

Logan came over to where Deceit had Virgil, not caring about the relationship between them as Dark Side and Light Side, just coming over to help his friend. Patton too darted towards Virgil, cradling his head as he settled down beside  Deceit where he held Virgil.

Roman, however, pulled the sword from Virgil’s body, frozen for a moment of shock at what had just occurred. But after a fleeting moment of shock, his expression turned to utter and complete rage as he looked up to face Deceit, meeting him right in the eyes. Neither of the other two sides seemed to notice as they fretted over Virgil in Deceit’s arms.

“No! Virgil are you alright! Can you speak?” Logan asked, immediately starting to administer first-aid to Virgil’s unconscious body.

“My sweet Stormcloud, please wake up!” Patton pleaded with Virgil’s peaceful face, smoothing Virgil’s hair out of his face.

Deceit froze in fear as Roman stared daggers into his soul, he vaguely heard Logan telling him to “Put Virgil down please, Deceit.” His arms however, did the opposite as he pulled Virgil closer to himself, not heeding the other two sides protests.

“Deceit, please, we need to help him, he’s dying!” Patton pleaded with Deceit, not that he took any stock in Patton’s words, only knowing that Patton was being honest.

“Deceit, you need to let Virgil go or we can’t help him, please, be sensible!” Logan desperately asked Deceit, tugging at one of the arms encircling Virgil. Deceit didn’t pay him any mind as the fear of Roman drowned out any energy to even register their pleas.

Roman took this opportunity to declare, brandishing a blood soaked sword with Deceit best and first true  friend’s blood being the blood covering it, “Fiend! You’ve brainwashed our friend to protect you! You even made him think that he loves you! I don’t know how you’ve managed this, but rest assured it will not stand! I should kill you right now for even daring to touch him!”

“No, I- stop-” Deceit spluttered, failing to call back that cool facade he so easily conjured usually in the face of surprising situations. But in this situation, no one could really be that composed. Unless of course, you were Creativity, as he called upon his sickening persona within a moment’s notice. Deceit inwardly gagged, which was impressive as he lived with the living embodiment of inward gagging in the form of Remus on a daily basis.

Deceit realized he had become distracted by his thoughts and suddenly snapped back to reality, realizing at some point Virgil had been extracted from his arms. He saw Logan and Patton working on him a few feet away. Deceit scrambled towards them, finally getting back onto his feet.

But Roman stepped in front of them, coming nose to nose with Deceit. Deceit could see every pore on his face and felt the heat of Roman’s anger as well as it’s dishonesty. It was the one thing Roman could never change, Deceit always knew when he was putting on a show for the others. The air always tasted sour and Roman’s body language never matched what he was saying.

Deceit launched himself at Roman, not caring now about telling the truth to them as Roman was getting in Deceit’s way of keeping his promise to Virgil. He needed to get to Virgil, he needed to protect him, to make up for his failure to keep their first promise. Roman was now an obstacle between him and that goal. In fact he was the reason Virgil was dead now, so Deceit didn't care about holding back anymore as he launched himself fist first into Roman’s jaw.

I hate you, you’re a monster and everyone should know! Fuck you! Deceit screamed in his mind, not even knowing if he was just thinking it or speaking it.

“Gah!! Oh, you motherfu- fiend!” Roman shouts, drawing his sword with one hand as he cups the blow on his jaw with the other and glancing at Patton as he was about to swear. Deceit got into a defensive position and got ready for Roman’s retaliation. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of silver, but he was too slow to react in time.

Suddenly without warning, Deceit felt a sharp pain in his head, his hand coming up sluggishly to touch it in vague curiosity. Distantly, he felt his arms relax and his body slump forward as his world went black.

Ow...

Deceit’s last full thought was wondering how they thought Remus was so bad when they had someone so much worse constantly with them as his vision tunneled in. He swore he heard someone curse and gasp as his awareness fully faded.

-

Someone prodded his face. He swatted their hand away.

“Dee Dee! Wake up! It’s time to wake up!” A familiar and excited voice exclaims.

“Warm…” Deceit replies, bundling himself more in his thick comforter, trying to float back into that mind-numbing warmth and go back to sleep.

But as the comforter was yanked off of him and he got an overwhelming burst of cold cold cold cold COLD, he was forced to curl into himself as he immediately began to shiver at the cold that overwhelmed his senses.

“An-an-an-anxiety! I to-told you not to-to pull off the covers to wake me up! You know I’m cold-blooded! It’s very unpleasant to wake up cold like that!” Deceit reprimanded a bouncing Virgil on his bed, fistfuls of his comforter in his grasp.

The two Sides looked around 18, with Anxiety being particularly smaller in size, if just a few inches shorter right then, but still share the same resemblance in age.

“I know! I just really want to have some breakfast! I’ve been really anxious I’m gonna starve lately.” Anxiety replied with a slight pout.

Deceit snatched the comforter from Anxiety’s grasp and pressed it to himself, savoring the warmth it brings before sighing exasperatingly and groaning, “Ok, fine! I’m up!”

Deceit swung his legs over the edge of the bed, letting them fall naturally to rest on the floor before pushing himself up. First things first he slipped on his heavy outerwear for the day that served the function similar to the comforter during the night. Even the undergarments he wore every moment of the day and night would cause other Sides to sweat if they wore anything close to what he wore. Not to mention the heavy outfit and cape that insulated him to feel almost hot in the mindscape.

Anxiety had tried on Decet’s coat more than once before and the last time he had almost fainted from overheating within just 2 minutes. Deceit kept his coat far away from Anxiety’s curious hands after that, though Anxiety seemed wary of it anyway as he had been out of commision for 12 hours due to heat stroke, throwing up, being really fatigued among other symptoms. Namely, a hefty bit of disorientation.

Anxiety thought Deceit was a turtle for 3 hours because of his bulky clothes and actually tried to climb back into Deceit’s coat, thinking ‘the turtle's shell leads to salvation’, without a second thought of what had gotten him like he was, was the coat itself. Throughout the ordeal, however, Anxiety’s anxiety seemed to have increased tenfold, he spooked himself a number of times with his own breathing for instance. Deceit thought Anxiety would never stop shaking with how much he was trembling for so long as he recovered.

Despite his complete and utter cautiousness with the other Sides, Anxiety always seemed to put himself into situations that left him hurt or vulnerable enough for the other Sides to possibly hurt him.

That’s why he had cut them off, among other reasons, namely Creativity, from the other Sides, the Sides that Thomas embraced, however flawed they actually were.

Deceit had cut them off from the other Sides, embracing that Dark part of the Mindscape as he had seen when he had first met Anxiety, though vague early memories told him that every Side had emerged from the ‘Darkness’ of Thomas’s mind when they came to be.

That didn’t mean that other Sides couldn’t come there, that just meant that one had to willingly want to enter their part of the Mindscape by sinking down and rising up in their domain.

Deceit was never one to turn up a chance of shenanigans with the other Sides, though he was definitely more covert about his strategy. Deceit was one for social manipulation, to impersonate other Sides and begin a fight between them and watch as they squabbled. Anxiety however, was not secret at all about his influence and would hide in places where Deceit honestly would wonder how he had gotten there and then spook whatever Side happened upon him first, relishing the fear it sparked in them.

More than once Deceit had to force Anxiety to sink down as Creativity would never hesitate to brandish his sword if he was the unlucky target of Anxiety’s antics.

But Deceit wasn’t thinking about that as he ruffled Anxiety’s hair as he went by, eliciting an impassioned “Hey!” from Anxiety.

-

Deceit heard voices that sounded like they were far off in the distance, they sounded concerned, talking in hushed tones. Deceit felt so cold, had he taken off his coat? He didn’t remember. He felt a hand swiping over his knuckles, though that sensation too felt miles away. One of the voices started to sound really angry and Deceit groaned, trying to see what was happening, but his body felt like it was sinking down through the floor and he felt so tired….

-

Deceit rolled his eyes as he exited his room into the hallway to their personal common room, his and Anxiety that is.

But just as he felt a true smile alight his face, a sound that didn’t come from Anxiety back in Deceit’s room behind him  put him immediately on edge.

Anxiety was immediately by his side, clinging to his bulky sleeve, like all those years ago when they were together but alone with the others in those first days they’d know each other.

Anxiety started to shake in the way that Deceit knew his thoughts were racing uncontrollably like when he was building into a panic attack. “What’s that? You think its-”

Deceit put a gentle gloved hand over Anxiety’s mouth, silencing him, but immediately removed it as Anxiety knew panicking was not wise in this situation. Anxiety just couldn’t help it sometimes, and Deceit understood that.

Deceit had finally discovered that he could force Sides to stay quiet. He had been doing it subconsciously for years. The occasional speechlessness other Sides had experienced when they had had heated arguments with Deceit made sense now, he had been silencing them without realizing it or consciously meaning to.

He had a particularly heated argument with Morality about how he was making Thomas miserable worrying him sick about what other people and his teachers thought of him and how he had to have good grades. Morality had said that his parents wanted Thomas to get good grades and that he should care about his classmates because they were all part of the class.  Deceit argued that constantly focusing on others neglected Thomas and Thomas needs at least some time without focusing on others, even in school.

Morality had retaliated saying, “That’s wrong! Having Thomas just think about himself is wrong! It’s selfish!”

Deceit had roared back, saliva spraying towards his verbal opponent, “What’s selfish is that you think everyone needs Thomas when they have their own lives. Thomas is his own person and just like you might think it would be good for other people to indulge in a mental health day, Thomas needs that too!”

And when Deceit looked at Morality’s face to gage his reaction, it was suddenly too much, Deceit was furious and his anger boiled over. Morality opened his mouth to speak, face full of indignation and an anger or frustration all his own.

And Deceit just snapped.

“No! Be quiet! You’re wrong! You’re wrong! You never let me be! Just SHUT UP!” Deceit had erupted, pulling at his hair before pulling his hat off his head and squashing it with both hands before gesturing in a way that felt natural and foreign at once, feeling a new sensation through his connection to Thomas. He felt angry tears roll down his face as his anger-filled exclamation finished.

Suddenly, Morality’s hand had come up and covered his mouth, stunning Morality and stunning Deceit so much that he lost all his anger and forgot what his next point was.

Deceit, being the Side he was, had recovered his composure first, smirking as he remarked, “Hypo-allergenic cat got your tongue? Or have you finally realized that Thomas isn’t the goody two shoes you’re so stubborn to believe he is?”

But much to Deceit’s surprise, and Deceit was rarely so surprised, much less twice in thirty seconds, Morality didn’t even try to remove his hand from his mouth, he had just muffledly shouted something through his fingers.

“Um… Morality, just take your hand off your mouth and then speak.” Deceit had instructed Morality, dumbfounded as to why Morality wasn’t doing that to begin with.

Morality had then looked at Deceit incredulously, like there was some insult thrown by Deceit through that simple suggestion or something.

“What? What’s so hard about removing your hand? You just…” Deceit had mimed placing his hand over his mouth and then removing it, waiting for Morality to do the same.

Morality had a sudden expression of realization and then started rapid-fire gesturing with his other hand at the hand covering his mouth.

Deceit could barely keep up with the gestures Morality was making, but when he caught a gesture and a pointer finger at him and then to where Morality was covering his mouth with his hand, it clicked.

“Wait… I’m doing that? Fuck! Oh, shit sorry! I mean…” Deceit had spluttered as he naturally cursed in realization, forgetting Morality’s great dislike of swears. Even if they disagreed, Deceit had never been one to be outright rude to disregard some etiquette of mutual respect. Deceit had then gathered himself for the 3rd time in 2 minutes and then concentrated, trying to undo whatever he did to Morality, feeling out that foreign sensation.

For a moment as he had felt out the sensation, he feared he wouldn’t be able to reverse what he had caused, but Morality's surprisingly gentle voice pulled his eyelids back open.

“Deceit, it’s alright, you’ve stopped whatever happened, just breathe.” Morality had gently cooed.

When had he curled up on the floor, when had his breathing become so difficult, when had the darkness behind his eyes as well as the room itself gotten tinged a shade of red at the edges?

Oh, I’m having a panic attack. Fun.

Those had been the last words he thought before he woke up back in his room, that oh so familiar feeling of aching, no that was too tame a word, of agony all over every inch of his body. He had to use every inch of resolve in him to not scream out like Creativity relished hearing him do in his special room, in addition to warranting more of that pai from Creativity  if any of the other Sides discovered him like that. Creativity did not like to have to explain Deceit’s... ‘accidents’ too often. It made him… cranky. And cranky Creativity was not fun to be around.

Creativity had apparently found him with Morality, promising to Morality to return Deceit to his room to wake in a calmer environment that would feel safer. Creativity, however, apparently had other plans, learning Deceit was the one that silenced him, even without knowing, all those times Creativity had ‘needed’ his voice. And Deceit’s body was the receiver of Creativity’s frustrations, whether Deceit wanted it to be or not.

But Deceit would never subject Anxiety to his muting power, all Deceit needed was that tiny gesture to both soothe and quiet Anxiety.

“Sh…” Deceit shushed Anxiety, placing a single finger gently on his own lips.

Anxiety pulled back, eyes closing as he focused on his next action. Anxiety took in a few deep, slightly shuddering breaths before looking into Deceit’s eyes and nodding grimly.

Deceit went first, going past the kitchen he had originally intended to go to after exiting his room, fists out in a combination of an offensive and a defensive position. Deceit had to be ready for either, knowing the likely cause of the disturbance.

But as he repeated the same trek down the bend of their own personal mini-Mindscape hall, he stopped short when he saw what was there.

The memories of that day with Anxiety were flashing through his mind as he saw a Side curled up on the far wall, silently crying.

Fear coiled in his stomach as he took in their attire, though strangely it looked half formed, like the Side hadn’t consolidated fully yet. The Side had a green regal attire on, with lines across the chest Deceit knew to be Creativity’s staple of his outfit, though why he chose to change costume like this wasn’t important to Deceit.

What was important to Deceit was why he was here and why he was pretending to be upset. No doubt to trick them into a trap of some sort.

Deceit was both equal measures fearful and furious, the only thing holding him back was the tentative hand gripping his from behind him.

With much less care than all those years ago with Anxiety, Deceit approached this Side in front of him he knew to be Creativity.

“Why are you here? To mock us? To try to pull me into another one of your games? Well, it won’t work, you��re in our territory now.” Deceit accused the quivering Side, not surprised at how authentic his cries were. Creativity had had plenty of time to learn new ways to cry listening to Deceit as they ‘had fun together.’

But much to Deceit’s surprise, Creativity looked up, tears in his eyes, and Deceit was overwhelmed by the truth in his expression, in fact, Deceit didn’t even sense a way there could be a lie on the Sides lips. This... wasn't that Creativity, the Creativity that had the desire to manipulate him into silence while breaking him from the inside out. The beginnings of a full blown moustache clued him in to what was truly occuring, but before he could speak the Side panicked and started to yell and scream his pleas.

“No! I’m not! He left me! He’s the one that’s bad! The others hate me because of him! He lies so much! He told me… He told me…” Green Creativity trailed off as Deceit opened his arms, face full of pure understanding and dare he hasten to call it love. He hesitated only for a moment before slamming into Deceit in a hug. Anxiety exclaimed in indignation and yelled for Creativity not to hurt Deceit, but faltered when he realized what Green Creativity was doing.

“Whoa, it’s okay, I do understand. You’re alright now, I know you’re not him. That you could never do the things he wants to do, I see it in your eyes. And you know I see people’s true intentions, their truths they would want hidden and locked away.” Deceit soothed the sobbing Side, glancing at Anxiety and giving him a small smile to go ahead.

Anxiety tentatively placed his hand on Green Creativity’s Side, but that caused the Side to wail into the crook of Deceit’s neck. “He told me that I’m what was wrong with him, that I was the one who wanted to do those things to you and the other Sides. That I was getting in the way of him being the best Creativity he could be, but he’s wrong! I don’t want to do that to you or anyone else, even if the thought crosses my mind!”

Deceit sighed softly as he felt the truth in the Side’s words, lowering them both to sit on the ground, Anxiety still standing up nearby. Deceit slowly brought Green Creativity’s head up from the crook of his neck, looking him directly in the eye with purpose.

“You are not like that other Creativity. That Creativity is a manipulative asshole that lies even more than I do and that is my job to help Thomas lie. He isn’t here.” Deceit gently but firmly said, maintaining eye contact with the other Side, relieved when he saw him calming down.

Green Creativity mumbled while dropping his eyes to look at the floor, “Morality would have a conniption hearing those words.”

Deceit smiled and brought the Side’s chin up with his hand to look him in the eyes again.

“And Morality isn’t here either, so you can say all the shitty motherfucking goddamn curse words you damn well please here.”

And for the first time, Deceit heard real laughter come from the regal Side, though even if it was now a part of that original singular regal Side. But Anxiety’s hesitant voice spoke up before either of them could continue.

“Deceit?”

“Yes, Anxiety?”

“Is this Creativity good?” Anxiety asked, looking warily at the Green Creative Side.

“He won’t hurt us, my sweet shadow friend. He wasn’t lying.” Deceit reassured Anxiety, knowing and understanding his concerns.

“Okay.”

Deceit smiled at the suddenly shy Anxiety, as the fear from before in Anxiety was mostly gone. It was quite endearing to see Anxiety so shy. Deceit was silent for a moment, looking the newly split Side over before asking, “What would you like us to call you? I suppose Creativity might not be something you would want to be referred to due to... past memories.”

Green Creativity nodded solemnly, thinking for a long moment before speaking one word.

“Remus.”

-

A voice cut through Deceit’s sleepy haze as he became semi-conscious, not really knowing where the memory stopped and reality began. He vaguely registered the words as words, but he knew their meaning. His body was still so heavy.

“Wake up!”

And really, Deceit didn’t have much of a choice.

Deceit opened his eyes.

General Taglist:

@spooky-scary-virgil @hermitcreature

Snaep Taglist:

@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @paranoidgurl @alexisrealgay @light-it-on-fire @love-support-and-cookies @blue-bis @cohesiveanxiety @solitarius-lupus14

[hiirunakaarchive]

– to act in haste (pt. 4)

↳ preview

Dr. Sakurai, between acknowledging her company and putting on a smile for the press, let her eyes flit away momentarily from whoever it was she was shaking hands with at that moment. Her lips were pursed in a tight smile in an attempt to keep herself collected amongst the overwhelming attention, and her eyes wandered outside of her immediate surroundings.

And he recognized it. The moment her face fell and her smile faded, he realized that Haruna’s eyes had already met his. 

Her lips parted slightly and then back shut at the sight of him, as if to stop herself just before reacquainting with the feel of Dr. Ramsey’s name on her tongue. 

“Ethan...?”

↳  (pt 1), (pt 2), (pt 3)

◇ pairing: ethan ramsey x mc (haruna sakurai)

◇ genre: angst, a lot of yearning, maybe a little break in between :/

◇ word count: 3.3k+

◇ tags: @aworldoffandoms, @perriewinklenerdie, @jooous​, @senseofduties​, @moteestro​, @haesselnut​, @princessfuzzy12​,

◇ author’s note: to the very limited audience who actually enjoy this fic: thank u for ur patience!! this chapter was so mf hard to write and FOR WHAT. after a couple months of sitting on google docs at 4am trying to update this fic instead of doing my schoolwork like i was supposed to, it turns out this chapter is not the finale at all🤡 ive considered incorporating smut into this since those seem to get notes but that’s one of my literary shortcomings so im gonna refrain and save face✨ feedback appreciated, yall know the drill xoxoxo luv u guys

chapter four

Diamonds. Oh, how that woman loved diamonds.

Carbon atoms arranged in a tetrahedral structure. The hardest natural substance on Earth. Yet another natural phenomenon upon which mankind had imposed their shallow, materialistic beliefs. 

But he bought one anyway; kept that damn two carat, marquise cut ring in the bottom drawer of his bedside table for five years. The velvet box sat in the dark that entire time, unworn and collecting dust, thus Dr. Ramsey couldn’t help but wonder if it was still suitable for the hospital heiress it was intended for. 

“Dr. Sakurai will be present as the keynote speaker.”

Harper regarded Ethan carefully when she said it, far too aware of his and the younger doctor’s history. Ethan met her pensiveness with a simple nod of his head.

“I see. She’s made quite a name for herself.” 

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.” Dr. Emery observed, raising a brow, “I was expecting a bit of protest in attending, but you seem fine.” 

But Dr. Ethan Ramsey was not, in fact, fine. 

“Have you seen her?” Harper continued, 

“Aurora ran into her in Manila, doing some philanthropy it seems. She looks different, might be the afterglow of success. Might be that boyfriend she brought along too.”

That what? 

It didn’t necessarily come as a surprise, but he still stopped listening. He’d tuned Harper out, something about the boy being on Haruna’s research team in Japan, a prodigy that interned at the WHO when he was only fourteen; Harper said they were a good match, but Dr. Ramsey, as a final form of consolation, hoped he’d heard her wrong.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, because Dr. Ethan Ramsey was far too old and far too calculated to rely on something as subjective as a “marriage pact”. Blurted on a whim, didn’t keep in touch, hell, he wasn’t even sure if he still remembered her face. That shallow promise they made five years ago came with too many uncertainties, and far be it from him to be bitter over her newfound happiness.

So his silence spoke for him, living a life of 52 seconds before Harper noticed he’d gone quiet. He earned a glance from his colleague, Dr. Emery trailing off and sparing him a thoughtful look. Her gaze softened in realization, and she bit her lip regretfully.

“Oh, Ethan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you still-” 

“I don’t.” He snapped. 

Bullshit. 

He released a long, drawn out breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, collecting himself. But the damage had been done, and nothing he could say would wipe the suspicion off Harper’s face. The rueful shake of her head and the sympathetic pat of his arm told him all he needed to know. 

“I mean it.” Ethan said, the excessive sternness of his tone taking away the credibility of his statement.

“Dr. Sakurai is…”

A pause. 

“She’s nothing to me.” 

–––––

And he was so damn wrong.

Ethan and June boarded a flight to Kyoto two days later, and for the entire duration until the conference, Dr. Ramsey was concerned at his own indifference. 

Concerned, but desperate to believe it.

He wasn’t sure what to expect out of seeing her again, but some sick part of him wanted to have fallen out of love with her. Then that meant he wouldn’t have to care at the blatant reminder that she was with someone else. He wouldn’t have to admit that she was probably better off with someone that wasn’t him. Most of all, he wouldn’t have to pretend that the idea of them never getting a second chance didn’t absolutely shatter him.

But it wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy. 

Because there he was, standing on the outer circle of a ring of reporters and conference guests that demanded the young doctor’s attention. Like the crowd, Ethan was completely and wholly entranced by her and it was in the moment that he realized–

Haruna Sakurai still meant everything to him.

Her hair had been cut short, its length reaching her chin and dyed a shade alike to walnuts. She wore glasses now and on the bridge of her nose rested thin circular frames that accentuated her ovular face, Haruna’s features fixed in a permanent smize as she charmed the crowd with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The woman trickled in ivory and quartz from head to toe, and Ethan’s breath caught in his throat at the memory of how much he loved her.

How much he still loves her.

Dr. Sakurai, between acknowledging her company and putting on a smile for the press, let her eyes flit away momentarily from whoever it was she was shaking hands with at that moment. Her lips were pursed in a tight smile in an attempt to keep herself collected amongst the overwhelming attention, and her eyes wandered outside of her immediate surroundings.

And he recognized it. The moment her face fell and her smile faded, he realized that Haruna’s eyes had already met his.   

Her lips parted slightly and then back shut at the sight of him, as if to stop herself just before reacquainting with the feel of Dr. Ramsey’s name on her tongue. 

“Ethan...?”

She looked at him like he was some figment of her imagination, breathing his name like saying it was an anchor to keep the man from disappearing. Dr. Ramsey could almost feel himself unravel if not for the deadwood that entered the scene.

Satoshi Date.

The boyfriend.

God, her fucking boyfriend.

He was stuck to her like glue, a hand protectively encased around her shoulder as Haruna caught herself and resumed in indulging the crowd. She smiled proudly and crossed her arms, everything but her wrists and beautifully manicured hands hiding underneath the cape of her white pantsuit. Her male company, just as charismatic and smartly dressed, entertained the representatives of Big Pharma. 

From what Ethan could see, Date was young. Bright. Approachable with an award-winning smile that was almost too friendly for his liking. Together, the doctor and scientist looked invincible and Ethan found himself for admitting that they actually complimented each other.

“What a tool.” He couldn’t help but scoff. “...Spit it out, Hirata.”

Beside him, June’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. She brought a hand up to her mouth and turned away, responding between giggles she tried to suppress. Ethan rolled his eyes.

“I apologize, it’s nothing. It’s nothing. Don’t let it bother you, you and Sakurai were always the better- pft.” 

Dr. Hirata failed to contain herself and released a snort, shaking her head as she walked away to scout for their seats in the lecture hall. Ethan’s irritant gaze followed her retreating form and his chest bubbled with annoyance as he remained clueless towards the reason behind his colleague’s laughter.

He looked over his shoulder one more time to where Haruna and Satoshi stood, close as ever, and the jealousy weaved knots in Dr. Ramsey’s stomach to the point that he settled in looking for his assigned seat instead. Ethan glanced at his watch; fifteen minutes before the official start of the conference, and from his peripheral vision he could see Haruna beginning to make her way backstage to prepare for her speech. 

Finding his spot beside Dr. Hirata, Ethan looked up to the stage, sat in the very front row and directly in front of the podium.

Fuck.

The lights finally began to dim at ten o’clock, and Dr. Sakurai, clad in white, appeared on stage. 

The woman’s presence commanded the attention of the room as she made her way to the centre in a powerful stride. The anticipant stillness of the crowd broke and Haruna’s entrance was greeted with a light smattering of applause as she enveloped the audience in warm welcome and a dazzling smile. Ethan watched her with bated breath, wondering when she had become this beautiful. 

“It warms my heart to see so many familiar faces.” She began. 

Her kind eyes scanned the audience and Dr. Sakurai’s gaze fell momentarily on Dr. Ramsey, conflicted, before getting to the punchline of the joke.

“Forgive me when I say I wasn’t expecting so many of you to still have a full head of hair the next time we met.”

–––––

The next 45 minutes passed that way, with Haruna completely and wholly engaging the crowd as she shared knowledge and humour, establishing a pleasant tone for the remainder of the conference. Ethan could sense the nearing end of her speech as Haruna began to smoothly transition from the central theme to her concluding words.

“A very important person to me once said that as doctors, all we do is delay the inevitable-” 

Ethan leaned back in his seat, arms crossed and with a valiant effort, careful not to let his emotions betray the nonchalance in his face. The reminder of that lesson he taught her so long ago revived something in the older doctor that he thought had died when Sakurai left for Japan. 

Then he remembered her obsidian hair dipped in red. Her long delicate fingers that he held in his when they first met, steadying the tremor before saving a life. He remembered her downcast eyes when he reprimanded her over a patient, and the embarrassment in her voice when she admitted to crying in the storage room.

Now here she stood, six years later. Confident. Unshaken. A poetic opposite of the young intern he once knew.

“—to healthcare professionals,” The sound of Haruna’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “one word immediately comes to mind when discussing the inevitable.” She said the words with air quotes.

“Death. Mortality. Demise. I always found it ironic how we, doctors who so value life, were the very crowd who imposed such negative connotations on the word.”

“We follow the paved path of the Inevitable because it’s the only one we know. It provides a definitive answer. But inevitably, we grow tired of this tedious destination. We inevitably seek more, strive for more and thus deviate from that paved path and become drawn to the unexplored dirt road; you find that it leads to so much more. My research team has offered me invaluable guidance on this road to the unknown, which is why I’m proud to officially announce that the Sakurai Medical Centre has discovered a cure for multiple sclerosis.”

And a stunned silence instilled itself into the audience. 

Ethan stared at her in silent disbelief. Hirata’s jaw hung open before she threw her head back in proud laughter and clapped. Suddenly, a frenzy ensued with the commotion of the crowd, the entire room suddenly engulfed in cameras and flashing lights and the vocal disbelief of the fellow doctors around them. Haruna held up a hand and the guests, still buzzing with excitement, toned down to audible murmurs. 

“I will answer any questions anyone might have about this medical feat throughout the day, but as I conclude this speech I’d like you all to do one thing–”

“Question yourself. Question the world. Challenge the things thought to be set in stone, and when all is said and done, ask yourself-”

Haruna looked meaningfully at the hundreds of people seated in front of her, a sharp tension emanating in the room as her cat-like gaze scrutinized the crowd. Her eyes finally fell on Dr. Ramsey, and the hold of her stare made it clear that this was no accident. She directed her query at her former lover and in a voice dripping with purpose demanded an answer.

“Is the inevitable really as dreadful as we might think?” 

And he could do nothing but applaud. 

–––––

The continuous ticking of the clock in Ethan’s hotel room was the only sound that intercepted a dead silence. Alone yet with his thoughts, he packed his luggage in preparation for his flight the next morning, pondering his weekend in Japan. 

They met at the evening reception. Purely coincidence. She stood alone at an accent table, her back to him with a flute of rosé, and he approached her in an honest mistake. 

“June.” Ethan sighed exasperatedly. “It wouldn’t have killed you to wait two minutes instead of making me scout you out in this crowded room for your damn blue dress-“

“Hey, I happen to like this damn blue dress.” 

Then he found himself met with pearls and a gown of charmeuse silk. She came to him in the shade of blue orchids, her gown pooling at the floor like a blossom at its prime and Dr. Ramsey remembered just how perfect she’d always been. 

They spoke. Briefly. Awkwardly. Watching their words like untested waters though the two were the furthest thing from strangers. 

“Hi.” 

Was what she said.

“...Hi.” 

Was how he responded. 

Then he couldn’t look at her. She was within arms reach, too easy to pull towards him and trap against his chest. Too easy to blurt out something he’d regret with her just close enough to hear it. Too easy to meet her eyes and remember that she was with someone else.

So he brushed past her, putting as much distance between himself and Dr. Sakurai before he lost himself. Before the crushing weight on Ethan’s chest pressed on until the words piggy-backed the next breath he released.

I still love you.

And he should have let it, because he hasn’t seen her since. 

Zipping up his luggage and setting it upright, the sudden sound of Ethan’s default ringtone reverberating through the room made him jolt. He snatched his phone off the bedside table, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, only to relax as he saw Naveen’s name flash across the screen for a FaceTime call.

“You have work.” Ethan observed, unimpressed upon recognition of Naveen’s office from the background. 

“Which starts in an hour, I’m simply early! Speaking of work, administration wants you to bring back souvenirs.”

“By administration, you mean yourself.”

“Humor me a little. Dr. Tanaka tells me they have exclusive KitKat flavours and I’m absolutely beside myself with curiosity. Pick up a pack or two, your retirement gift to me.”

Ethan sighed in surrender.

“...What flavour do you want.”

“Dr. Tanaka recommends Hokkaido melon with mascarpone cheese, but I also recall June mentioning sakura matcha latte. I’ll leave it up to you.”

“What? You can’t possibly expect me to find such arbritary— hello?”

So fate let him out onto the Kyoto streets, into a grocery store, towards the snack aisle and right in Haruna Sakurai’s line of fire. She was on her way to the cash, he was still searching for those fucking KitKats, and they lightly bumped shoulders before meeting each other’s eyes for a polite apology. 

“Ah, I’m sorry-“

“My apologies-“

And they both froze.

At first, they refused to acknowledge the familiarity in each other’s voice. She spoke in Japanese, but he recognized her assertive tone. Firm but pleasant, like running your hands across a velvet seat. She had a unique accent given her history of travel, and Ethan remembered how much he used to love hearing her talk. 

It was the English for her. They weren’t too far off from the hotel where the conference was held, so Haruna immediately deduced that the stranger was one of the guests. But she knew Dr. Ramsey’s voice. All too well. His words uttered in low timbre, deep and rich like fertile soil that only further nurtured her adoration for him. The articulate nature of his speech that would substantiate the validity of his advice. Intimidating delivery of his words that grabbed her attention in fistfuls. It wasn’t until Haruna had her own intern that she became aware of how much she had begun to sound like him, and it was then that she realized she loved hearing him talk too. 

“Dr. Ramsey.” Haruna didn’t bother to mask the surprise in her voice. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” 

The collectedness in Dr. Sakurai’s voice almost irked him. She looked nothing short of amicable, pretending like Saturday evening never happened where he fled from her after a one-word exchange. And her nonchalance, amidst Ethan’s struggle to find words, rapid heartbeat and sandpaper-dry throat, was only further confirmation that she moved on from their past. 

“We’re on the same boat, Dr. Sakurai. I wasn’t expecting to be here but you know how Naveen is.” He struggled to maintain the apathy in his voice. 

“Let me guess, KitKats?”

“Right on the nail. He’s looking for–” 

Ethan stopped himself as Haruna turned to the shelf on her right, dragging a finger across the plastic wraps before swiftly plucking several packages out from under each other and tossing them into his basket. He peered into his bin of potential expenses and looked up at Dr. Sakurai as she tossed one more his way. 

“Rook- Dr. Sakurai, Naveen is going to end up with diabetes.” 

She retracted her hand from another pack and glanced at him once, then to his near-full basket in something alike to realization. Then she laughed. Like, really laughed. Her disciplined features melted into a toothy grin, replaced with something youthful. Something real. Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose to hide his own smile beginning to form. 

“Oh, I’m sorry-” Haruna gathered herself as she breathed out a chuckle. “You know how much of a sweet tooth he has.”

She tilted her gaze up to meet Ethan’s eyes, an almost distant look brewing on her face until she caught herself and her smile faded. 

“But it wasn’t all for him.” 

Ethan raised a brow, and the female doctor’s attention flickered to the pack she last threw into his basket. He looked down, and his forehead creased with inexplicable conflict. 

“That one’s for you. Didn’t you really used to like those back then?”

Yuzu flavoured KitKats. She used to love those, and he wondered if she still did. They were saved for special occasions and only shared with special people, but those “care packages” Haruna’s doting parents sent every once in a while from Japan never lasted. The original five that shared the penthouse used to come with snack sized versions, and Dr. Ramsey had to hide his in the drawer of his desk. 

She would loiter in his office sometimes during her break, sitting across from her mentor as they passed the time talking. 

“Snacking in my office? I’ve grown too lenient with you, Rookie.”

She popped a piece into her mouth and grinned with full cheeks. 

“So you have.”

“Yeah… your influence– don’t get ahead of yourself.” He rolled his eyes good-naturedly as Haruna pressed a hand to her chest in faux flattery. He failed to suppress a smile and she returned her own, the awkwardness and the tension slowly alleviating between the two of them. 

They grew silent, but it was a comfortable silence. The two doctors shifted on their feet, waiting for someone make the first statement, and Ethan racked his brain for words to say. What could he say?

“I meant to congratulate you,” He settled.

“These past five years have been good to you, Haruna. You’ve accomplished something great.”

Her smile widened at her ex-mentors praise.

“Thank you, I had an amazing team behind me.”

And as if on cue, the shrill marimba ringtone sounded in the air and made them both jump. Dr. Sakurai’s recognized it as hers and patted around her sweatpants, fishing her phone out of her pocket. Looking at Dr. Ramsey apologetically, she accepted the call and pressed her phone to her ear. 

“Toshi?”

And the bitter reality settled back in. She turned her back to him, mumbling in rapid Japanese and Ethan breathed in deeply. Starting towards the cash register, he snuck past Haruna quietly, squeezing her shoulder in goodbye. A subtle alarm weaved itself into her features, and her gaze followed his back, unable to leave the call. Ethan rushed through the payment and took long strides out of the grocery store, pulling on the collar of his sweater as his throat began to constrict. 

Get back to your damn hotel and finish packing your things. You’re going to get on that plane tomorrow morning, start work the day after and start forgetting about Haruna Sakurai. 

He exhaled in a long breath. He could do this. 

“Dr. Ramsey…?”

He could do this. 

“Didn’t you really used to like those back then?”

He could do this. 

“Is the inevitable really as dreadful as we might think?” 

He couldn’t fucking do this.

Ethan slowed to a stop, and he cursed at himself. For developing feelings towards the one person he shouldn’t have fallen for. For being the root of the cause in this mess they entangled themselves in. For loving this woman so damn much that his own medical expertise couldn’t suffice in explaining the tight feeling in his chest whenever he missed her. Whenever he saw her.

Dr. Ramsey looked up to the sky, met with a streetlight hovering above his head and despite himself, he laughed. 

He just couldn’t forget about Haruna Sakurai. 

“Christ, I’m too old for this.”

And back towards the direction he came from, he began to run.

[caffeinetheory]

Crime Scene [Timari Week Day 4]

@maribat-2k20

told you I’d have it out today (don’t mind the time ;> )

(rewrote a few ties but it’s okay, it was a struggle but I think this is okay)

Big thank you to @theatreandcomicfreak bouncing ideas off with you really helped

///

Another break in had occurred at the jewelry store down the street from the studio MDC was working in. How Tim had convinced her to get a bigger place for her to work on her designs she wasn’t sure but he had that effect on her. She was already planning on leaving when she heard the alarm go off, no reason to rush now. Mari watched as shadows moved from the rooftops headed toward the blaring sound. The thought of running across the skyline brought back memories of a time best left in the past. 

About twenty minutes had past and Mari was getting quite bored. The Bats were efficient so they were surely done by now right? The red and blue flashing lights coming her way signed they were close enough to being done that she ventured down the street, her custom yo-yo (weapon) was hidden on her hip just in case, can’t be too careful in Gotham after all. 

Curiosity got the best of her as she passed, looks like 2 birds were there, maybe 3 if that shadow was anything to go by. Nightwing was talking to the commissioner, the robbers tied up by his leg. In the shadows, so there was definitely 3, was Robin. The black cape almost his the crimson of his uniform but years of being a hero herself, she was able to catch his eye. His split second flash of confusion of being seen was quickly dismissed when her eyes landed on Red Robin, or should she say Tim. She knew that stance anywhere, it was him alright. 

~~~~~~

Robin watched as Drake’s girlfriend walked passed the scene they had just finished cleaning up. Not unusual if he remembered correctly, her studio was on this street and she had the same tenancy to work late like Drake. What was unusual was how she easily made eye contact with him as he hid in the shadows how had she seen him? Before Robin could process that she could easily find him, he noticed her relaxed stance change when she spotted Drake. Like it was second nature, she made her way silently over to him. She didn’t make a sound as if she did it would ruin everything. Watching her move it was clear she had experience, like they all did, but why did she? 

~~~~~~

That couldn't be him could it? Making her way over to Red Robin Mari subconsciously went into Ladybug mode. It was second nature, moving silently and quickly. She took in everything at the scene, even more so than before, it was hard to shake the habit after so many years. The closer she got the more sure she was. That was absolutely her birdie, a perfect nickname in retrospect, from the way he stood to the messy raven hair. The slight jump when she touched his arm and the alarm that quickly melted into comfort when eye met eye under the domino mask to hide his identity, was the last nail in the coffin, that was her bird under there. 

"Birdie…?" Her voice was hardly above a whisper, only for the person in front of her to hear. The shock was clear as day, and he took her close. They should have known better to try to keep secrets from each other, they always found out.

Nuzzling into her hair she knew he trusted her enough to confirm, no words were needed. A call on the com link broke their moment, a hostage was in a warehouse, they needed help. Red Robin pulled away from her, "I need to go-"

"I'm coming too," Mari didn't let him finish, "no argument… trust me." 

Tim knew how to pick his battles and the determined look in her eyes told him it wasn't going to be a problem. The two rode to the warehouse Oracle had sent him, the lights and armed guards were a clear tip off. 

Tim was about to tell Mari to stay back but she was already scouting the doors. ‘You know what, this isn’t the weirdest thing,’ Tim thought to himself as he got into position. Four guards, one female hostage and plenty of cover. 

In the blink of an eye his wonderful girlfriend - how did she get as mask? - was deflecting bullets with what looked like a yo-yo. With an expertise he’s only seen in videos from what he thought was a tabloid she took everyone down without breaking a sweat. In seconds the hard calculating look she had was gone and a carrying one replaced it as she gently untied the women in the chair, offering reassurance that she would be okay. Hopefully Barbara caught that.

“Everything will be okay, I promise. No one else will hurt you while I’m here,” Mari was rubbing circles into the woman’s back. Luckily there got there before anything bad could happen. Instincts kicked in, but now that the threat was gone she realized Tim was there, staring at her catching flies. Thank Tikki she had her yo-yo and was able to get a mask quickly. This wasn’t ideal though, she wanted to leave this life behind. Looked like that was out the window. 

“Birdie, you’re going to catch flies.” the women had been picked up by the police finally, Tim however still hadn’t moved and it was getting concerning. 

By some miracle he snapped out of it, “I need to get you to the cave,” he didn’t elaborate as he got her on his bike and rode in what Mari believed was the direction of Wayne Manor. 

‘I should have guessed,’ Mari thought as they entered a cave though and entrance that was hidden behind a waterfall. Numerous vehicles lined the walls as they rode in, eventually he parked by a larger room. The stairs led up to a large open space with cases filled with old costumes that made her cringe the tiniest bit, a large training area was on the other side and in the center along a wall was a truly massive computer. Time felt still was she made her way slowly behind her boyfriend who still hadn’t said much. 

There were 5 other people in the room visible but she could reason there were a potential 2 more. A red head in a wheelchair sat at the computer, her typing had slowed when the pair made their way up the steps. The big Bat himself sat in a chair in front of the massive supercomputer, chair turned to watch the newcomers with a calculating eye. Mari had to fight the instinct to get out her yo-yo and get ready for a fight. The same small kid she had seen at the robbery was hiding in the shadows not far from the Bat, this time when they made eye contact he had a look of curiosity more than shock. Not reassuring if she was honest. By what looked like a training area was two older men who looked like they paused sparring. One was absolutely Nightwing, as she saw him earlier and was still in uniform, so by process of elimination the other muscular guy must have been Red Hood, no helmet but a crimson domino mask adored his face and the white streak in his hair reminded her of Jason - but didn’t he hate Batman? There’s no way this was real. 

She stopped mid-step, she was already tense but the feeling of eyes on her back was not welcome. Before she could think about it - there were how many people there after all ?! - she whipped out her yo-yo and stared into the darkness, seemingly at nothing. The movement was not lost on her and her yo-yo sped up, she was tense. Mari almost threw Tim across the cave when he touched her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” with a sigh he called out to what he hoped was Cass, “You can come out now Sis.”

Out of the shadows a 5’5” Asian women in a midnight turtleneck, black jeans and the blackest combat boots one could get came out. With her midnight short hair and domino mask it was astonishing anyone had seen her. She gave the pair a nod and silently made her way over to the others. How in the world Mari knew she was Tim wasn’t sure but it definitely didn’t put his girlfriend at ease. It took some reassurance but he was able to get Mari to be a little less tense, not much but it was a start. The yo-yo was at least by her side and she had caught up with him. Mari still shied away from his family, not that he could blame her. This was a lot to spring on her, but she had figured him out she might as well know about the rest - she’d figure it out anyway she was a genius. If her fighting style was anything to go by and her instincts, well he had an idea she knew the family business well herself. 

“This can’t be happening, Tim please tell me this is a stupid joke and I’m wrong,” Mari whispered to him. The only response he gave her was a tight squeeze to her hand. 

The pair stood in front of everyone, the silence was deafening. The only sound was the typing coming from what Mari assumed was Oracle, soon multiple videos, pictures and interviews were displayed on the screen of one Ladybug. The fight from earlier was also pulled up in the corner by the person typing. 

“You can’t be serious,” she Gave Red Robin a look of exacerbation, “I swear I didn’t want you to find out about this. Preferably ever- but definitely not like this! Tikki is going to kill me, oh god I did so well before and now I just slip up over something stupid! God I never should have stopped on my way home, then I wouldn’t have seen you and guess who you were - THAT WAS SO STUPID OF ME!” she was spiraling. Walking herself in circles as she gestured wildly as she spoke and pulled at her hair, “of course I end up dating a hero! What luck do I have?! And he brings me to what I assume is the famed Bat Cave.” she stopped to look at him, “Why would you do that?! Are they going to kill me? Oh Kawmi-” 

Tim grabbed her shoulders to ground her. “Batman has a no kill rule, don’t you B?” he was able to anchor her and he took off his mask. Blue eyes met blue eyes and she was breathing properly again.

Before Batman could reply, “An annoying one if you ask me,” the amusement in the man’s voice was already enough to get a smile out of Mari. She was no longer panicking but the look the big Bat gave him made her burst out laughing, it was so much like the look Bruce gave Jason after he made a joke about dying - WAIT!

“Jay Jay?” at his sideways grin Mari wanted to hurt him, “Of course… does that mean…?” The nod Tim gave her was all she needed to collapse on the ground, she wasn’t passed out but she was overwhelmed. 

Agent A walked in from what must have been an elevator, looked around and gave a disapproving scoff as he made his way over to Mari and Tim who had taken to sitting on the floor with her. He handed her a large mug filled with her favorite tea, “thanks Alfred,” she mumbled before it clicked. “Oh god it’s all of them isn’t it?”

“You always have a keen eye Miss Marinette,” the amusement in the old butler’s voice made a heavy sign leave her lips.

“Let me guess,” Mari leaned into Tim as she started to point. 

“The smiling one is Dick,” he gave a shit eating grin as he bowed dramatically. 

“Mr. Shooty is Jason as already noted,” Jay gave a halfhearted protest at the nick name.

“The one who gave me a heart attack must be Black Bat,” the woman gave a nod, “I’m really hoping that’s Cass,” a smile told her she was right.

“The brooding Robin must be Damian, it would explain a lot like the sword,” Damian gave a nod of affirmation. 

She looked hesitantly at Batman who was still watching her with intensity, “So by logic that must be Bruce,” she wanted to run. If looks could kill she was sure she would be dead  by his look right then. 

The girl in the wheelchair had turned around at this point, a proud smirk across her lips, “Right as usual Mari,” Mari ran to the open arms of one of her best friends. Of course one of the smartest women she knew ran the tech side of Batman, “Barbara!” 

This was a lot to take in, but then a video began to play on the screen, an early fight of Ladybug. “How’d you find me out?” 

“Between Tim and me, well it wasn’t hard, you have a distinctive fighting style. Yo-yo isn’t exactly common.” 

“You make a fair point,” Mari paused to look back at Tim, “why did you bring me here?”

“You up for joining this life again? I know this is out of nowhere but you did kinda figure it out…” he was trailing off. Why did he think this was a good idea, it was more spontaneous than anything he usually did. 

“Only if you promise you’ll tell me when you need help and no one else makes my suit,” she gave a look to everyone to let them know she would be there for them too. It was unorthodox but when did anything in this family happen in a normal way. 

~~~~~~

Nightingale made her first official appearance with Red Robin at a heist about a week later. They were a reliable duo, solving everything the Riddler sent at them in record time, her yo-yo leaving a nasty bruise on the green clad villains face when they were done. The city knew they had one more hero in the ranks.

[bitch-for-a-rainbow]

What made us think that we were wise (and that we’d never compromise)

When Kara suffers a serious injury, she turns to the only person she can for help: Lena Luthor. As she receives medical aid, necessary conversations are had and a few reconsiderations of "facts" are made.

btw this was posted about 30 minutes before 5x05 aired

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254813/chapters/50607092

CH. 1

     It’s a trap. That was the only thought that came through Kara’s brain as she hurtled toward the ground. It’s a trap. They had been here the whole time. Watching them. Infiltrating the DEO. The arrow, or more accurately the harpoon, had struck her in the chest. The chain dragging her to the ground jerked, pulling at the projectile lodged in her right lung. The shaft was an inch thick, and the head was tipped with kryptonite. It should have been an insignificant amount, really. It was so small that she likely would have to be squeezing it in her palm to cause any true power loss. But it was enough. Enough to cause a normally harmless metal harpoon to pierce through her skin and flesh.

     She hit the ground with an earth-shattering crash— literally. The ground around her erupted and formed a small crater where she lay. She could see the glass doors of the DEO balcony. Kara gasped for air, choking on her own breath, her own blood. She needed to get out of here. Now. A pair of sharp heels appeared over the ridge of the crater. Kara shifted her gaze down to the arrow sticking out of her chest. She reached for it, clumsily, hands slipping on its surface. It would not bend. Nth metal.

     “Did you really think you could get away with it? That you could just steal from us and we wouldn’t find out?” Those files, she thought sluggishly, How could they have found out so soon? She reached for the arrow again. There had to be something. Andrea Rojas stepped closer and knelt before her. “Who did you get to steal them? Your friend William unfortunately slipped on the north bridge before he could tell us and I doubt you could just waltz into our facilities, the cape is a bit flashy. Another reporter at CatCo perhaps? Kara Danvers has always been a bit suspicious.”      “Why—” Kara coughed, spattering the ground with blood, “Why would I tell you?” There, a small defect in the chain that attached to the arrow. They must have slipped when trying to set the metal. It wouldn’t have mattered for a human, or even a martian. But she was neither. Andrea fixed her with a piercing, cold stare.      “Because you are not going to die until you tell me who it is.” Kara laughed, the sound was more like a wet wheezing. Blindly, she began twisting the chain’s deformed edge.      “Then I’m afraid,” she spat, “You have wasted your time.” Just a bit more. Just a bit— SNAP. Andrea staggered backwards and Kara streaked into the sky.

     Kara sped away from the DEO, towards the desert. If she got far enough out and then dropped, the scanner would lose her position. Kara’s vision blurred. How much blood had she lost? A craggy dune appeared in front of her; the old DEO base. She felt dizzy. There wasn’t time. She was running out of time— she dived. Changing course just before she hit the ground, Kara rocketed back toward the city. Alex was out of the question. There was no way to get to J’onn’s without attracting lethal attention. Who was left? Who— A gleaming white pillar of a building. A balcony protruding out of its smooth surface. Of course. Kara twisted her body and flew —or rather crashed— into the stone jut. She coughed again, each time there seemed to be more blood. Sluggishly, Kara pushed herself upright. She barely suppressed a whimper as sharp pain flared through her side.      “Hope, move the meeting with Wayne Industries to Tuesday and— Kara? Fuck. Kara!” The fast pattering of heels sounded across stone. Kara looked up dazedly as Lena pressed her hands to the wound in Kara’s chest.      “Hey Lena, you wouldn’t happen to have a first aid kit would you?”  Lena let out a choked sputtering, kicked off her heels and ran down a hall, returning with a large first aid kit. Lena put Kara’s arm over her shoulder as Kara pushed herself inside, studiously avoiding the white carpet. Kara pulled the suit back into her glasses and sadly picked at the now blood-soaked button-up she had been wearing under it. She had really liked this shirt. Lena eased it off her shoulders, focusing on the arrow protruding between Kara’s 7th and 8th ribs— and cursed.      “Jesus, Kara, you need a doctor. My medical experience is limited to genetics and microscopes. I need to call Alex—”       “NO!” Kara’s hand flashed forward, catching Lena’s arm. “No. You call her, you kill us all.” Lena set the phone down slowly,      “Kara, what the hell is going on.”      “I promise, I will explain everything, but the abbreviated version is Andrea is a lot more shady and connected than I thought.” Lena cursed again and pulled on nitrile gloves.      “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Kara laughed,      “Me too.” Kara huffed and focused down on the arrow. “Okay. What we need to do is push it through and out. There is a kryptonite point on the head. That’s the only reason it broke my skin. The longer we leave it in the worse I will get and once we remove the arrow some of the damage will retain because of the kryptonite. It might even scar.” She pressed at the bloody pole in her side,  “If we try and pull it, the head could break off, or it could cause even more damage than it already has.” Lena nodded. “So, what I need you to do, is get out gauze, and when I pull out this arrow, press down on the wound. I just need you to stem the blood long enough for it to begin to heal, Okay?”      “Okay.” Lena got out gauze and Kara pushed herself further upright, placing her hands on the shaft.      “1… 2…” Kara braced herself. “3.” She pushed the arrow through. It took every ounce of resolve left in her body not to scream. Gritting her teeth and pressing her head against the wall, she pushed as hard as she could. Lena stared in barely concealed horror as Kara forced the projectile out her back. Gasping for breath, Kara reached behind herself and pulled. The shaft came free with a quiet squelching. Lena clamped the gauze around both sides of the injury, and was very proud of managing not to retch. Blood spread across the ground in a slow-moving pool, stopping just shy of the carpet.  Kara smiled,      “It worked.”  Lena let out a breath. “You can stop squeezing the bandages now.”      “Right.” Lena laughed, it was tight and harsh. Kara placed her hands on Lena’s and pulled them away from the injury. Her hands were stiff as Kara pried up each finger, whispering soft assurances. At last, the gauze came away, revealing a 4-cornered slit in her flesh. There was a deep, hole like gash in the center where the shaft had been. But it was already ringed in pink, healing skin. The side gashes bore small forming scar tissue on their ends where they had been longer. It had stopped bleeding heavily.      “I’m going to stitch the wound closed, would you hand me the needle?”      “I can do that Kara, you’re injured you don’t have to—”      “Lena, have you ever sewed an injury closed before?”      “...No.”      “Are you honestly comfortable with stitching me up?” Lena sighed in defeat.      “No.”

     Kara smiled, following Lena’s eyes as she ducked her head in guilt. “I’m incredibly grateful of your help Lena, but I can do this, okay?” Lena hesitated and agreed, though she insisted that she could at least thread the damn thing. Kara only snorted— and immediately regretted it. Lena jerked forwards and put a steadying hand on her shoulder. Kara gave her a reassuring nod and took the needle. She clenched her teeth as she drew the needle through her skin. Lena kept her hand on Kara’s shoulder the whole time— until she started stitching the exit wound herself when it became obvious Kara was struggling with it, despite Kara’s continued objections. After watching Kara stitch the front, Lena was fairly capable of repeating the process on her back, though her stitches were certainly less clean (and a lot more shaky). The process didn’t take long. It was very odd, Lena thought, putting away the needle, seeing a wound so healed and yet… not. It was as though her body was healing from the inside out, rather than where the torn skin was closest to itself. You couldn’t tell how close Kara had come to dying. How many scars did her body hide with its healing? How many times had she almost died with Lena completely unaware? God, how many times had something like this happened with Alex, with James, with Winn. Lena remembered Reign, seeing supergirl fall. She had watched Kara fall. Lena threw her body around Kara, squeezing almost as tightly as she had with the gauze. 

     “You’re going to get your shirt all bloody.” Kara mumbled, “That thing probably costs more than my loft.” Lena only held her tighter,      “I don’t care.” She took a shuddering breath. “I can buy a new shirt, Kara, I can’t replace you.” Lena didn’t have to look at Kara’s face to know she was giving her signature dopey grin.      “I’m glad you still feel that way.”      “What do you mean? You’re my best friend, of course, I care more about you than a shirt.” Kara pulled out of the hug, she seemed almost mournful.      “That’s not what I mean.” Kara bit her lip, casting around for the right words. “After everything that’s happened, I’m glad I’m still important to you.” 

     Kara took a breath and looked Lena in the eye. “I know you’ve been lying to me.” Lena recoiled and Kara continued, “Please don’t try and claim you haven’t. I know you, Lena. I’m not blind. Your movements are all rehearsed, your words calculated. You avoid physical contact and what you do give is stiff. I know your ticks, I know how you lie, and you have been lying a lot. I’d guess the only really truthful thing you’ve said to me recently is that you haven’t been sleeping. Besides, ‘you need Lex’s journals to heal?’ Lena, in the prison last year you described reading them to be like stabbing out your eyes.” 

     Lena turned her head from Kara. She pulled off the nitrile gloves and fiddled with them balled in her hands. Kara sighed, “I’m not going to ask you why you did it, or what the truth was. I took those journals anyway because I wanted us to be fixed, but there is no easy fix. You’re allowed to be angry, Lena. I lied to you for years! Being angry is a part of healing, so please! Just... be angry with me.”     Kara’s eyes were imploring, Lena remembered the simulations she had run. There had been hundreds of them, thousands, and none had included this.

     “I— Kara—” Lena floundered for words, anything to get out of this, and it all came out in a rush, “I am angry. I am so, so angry. I hated you. I might still hate you. Everyone lied and you were supposed to be different! You made me think I could be different! And you lied. Over and over and over again. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know anything about you anymore, Kara— if that’s even your real name… I don’t even know your name. One second you were everything and the next— I just—”      “Kara Zor-El.”       Lena blinked. “What?”      “That’s my name. Kara Zor-El.” Kara pressed her lips together, took a nervous breath and continued.      “I love potstickers and donuts and sticky buns and soft sweatshirts and Disney movies. I was born in Argo City, in the Kandor region of Krypton. I have an adoptive sister, Alex. When we first met we hated each other,”she laughed. It took us years to even stand being in the same room. I speak over 35 languages and I learned calculus when I was five. I have a brilliant, beautiful best friend that I would do anything for and who has saved my life in more ways than one. I am the person I have always been. You just know a little more.” Lena said nothing. She just stared. Finally, she reached forward, as if to touch Kara’s arm, and quickly pulled back. She opened her mouth to speak, but seemingly could not find the words. Kara’s eyes crinkled at the corners and she leaned slightly forward.      “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” Lena searched her eyes for anything: some plot, an ulterior motive— there had to be something. But there wasn’t, just compassion and pain.      “Later—” Lena began, “Later, you and I need to have a long conversation about our relationship, about exactly what happened with Andrea and about—” She broke off, bit her lip and swallowed, “I have this… project, and you—” she sighed, “You are not going to like it.”      Kara smiled, “Whatever it is Lena. I promise, you’re not going to lose me.” Lena attempted to smile back but gave more of a pained grimace,       “I hope so.” Kara stretched out a hand– and quickly snatched it back upon seeing it was covered in semi-dried blood.      “Oh, sorry.”      “I suppose we could both use some cleaning up. You can use my shower while I clean this up.” Kara immediately began objecting,      “No! No! You get cleaned up, I’ll take care of this.”      “Kara, you’re hurt, I am not having you clean.” Kara began to push herself up.      “I’m mostly healed anyway and it’s my blood to clean up.”      “Kara—”      “You’ve done enough for me, Lena. Let me do this for you.”      “Kara, you—” She stopped at the look on Kara’s face. “Fine.” Lena relented, “But the minute you feel any pain, or you bleed or struggle at all you call me. Got it?”      “Yes, Ma’am.” Lena lips pursed,       “I’m serious Kara.”      “So am I. It will be okay, go clean up.” Hesitantly, Lena made her way to her bathroom and Kara slipped off her shoes and gathered cleaning supplies. Sighing, she surveyed the path of destruction she had wrought across Lena’s apartment. Bloody smears and footprints traced their way from the distinctly cracked balcony to the large crimson pool by the fireplace. Kara gathered the bloody linens in a pile near the balcony doors and began to painstakingly scrub the blood from the cement (literally, the bending required was in fact quite painful). She was almost done clearing the last smear on the fireplace when Lena returned, her hair wet and wearing a sweater and soft shorts.      “I can take care of the rest Kara, you go clean up.”      “I’m almost done it’s fine.”      “Kara, I’d prefer we didn’t just dump evidence in a trash can like a novice and I'm the only one who knows where the incinerator is.”      “You have a—” Kara gaped. She shook her head as Lena grinned. “Of course you do. Why not?”      “Come on darling, I can handle some paper towels and a shirt.” Kara opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. She grumbled as she walked towards the bathroom, still carefully avoiding the white carpet. There were extra bandages outside the shower, and Kara sat her glasses next to them. She undressed her wounds, turned on the water and stepped into the shower still mostly clothed. Kara sighed as already heated water shot from all four walls, hitting her body and flowing pink down the drain. She placed her hands against a wall and leaned into the spray. Slowly, Kara began to peel away her bra and slacks. They were sticking to her skin where blood had congealed. She removed her underwear and just stood under the hot shower for a long while.

     Lena disposed of the pile of contaminated fabric and gauze in the small shoot hidden near the trash in her kitchen. Kara had done a good job cleaning up the blood, all that was left to prove she had ever even been there was a small crack on her balcony and Kara herself, currently standing in her bathroom. Lena was fine. She was fine. What gave Kara the right to feel pity? What gave Kara the right to sit there and tell her to be angry? How dare she sit there and look at her and make her feel so— No. She was fine. She didn’t care. She. Didn’t. Care. 

She cared. Fuck.

     A sharp knock broke Lena from her reverie. Only eight people in the world had this address. Except for one, all would call ahead. That ‘one’ was currently occupying her shower. Even if they knew where she lived, being able to get up to her floor without Lena knowing was another matter entirely. She was cautious as she approached the door, sliding a pistol from its drawer near the oven. She picked up her tablet and silently opened her camera program, which revealed a less than pristine looking Andrea Rojas standing outside her door. Of course she was.      

     She slipped the pistol into her waistband and (keeping a wary hand around it) opened the door.      “Andrea. I didn’t know you had my address.”      “Well, I like to keep tabs on old friends.” Lena snorted,      “Friends? Is that what they’re calling it now?” Andrea gave her a searching look,       “Well, are you going to invite me in?” Lena raised an eyebrow,       “You show up at my apartment, an apartment you are not supposed to know about, without notice, and now you expect an invitation?” Andrea chose to ignore that and swept into the room with the air of royalty.      “I’ll admit I’m surprised you’re actually relaxing for once. I’d assumed you’d have to come up from one of your secret labs.” Lena blew air out her nose in barely contained irritation.      “Andrea I’m rather busy so if you would please—”      “I’m looking for Supergirl.” Well, that was forward.      “Excuse me?” Andrea turned and fixed Lena with a hard glare.      “Supergirl? Flies around the city with a cape and laser eyes? Figure head of the media company I just bought from you?” Lena was forced to use an exorbitant amount of energy to stop herself from rolling her eyes,      “I know who Supergirl is Andrea, my question is why you’re looking for her and why you came here.” Andrea barely seemed to notice the irritation in Lena’s voice, instead, scanning the apartment.      “Look, Supergirl is Catco’s money tree. Half our news articles are about her and I haven’t yet had time to shift our news base. She dies and we’re toast.” Andrea sighed irritably. It was almost believable. “Supposedly, there was a fight involving her and some stragglers from the Children of Liberty trying to make a comeback. My sources say she was injured fairly badly and delirious. I figured she might come here. I know you two are friends.”      “Friends is a strong word.” Lena said dryly. That got Andrea’s attention,      “Ooh, trouble in paradise.”      “You are assuming there was a garden in the first place.”      “Lena, dear, you built her a statue.”      “I hadn’t worked with her yet.”      “Still, if she isn’t here, why do you have a gun in your waistband?” Lena froze. Quickly smoothing out her face, she gave Andrea an incredulous look.      “You come to my apartment at 10 pm, without calling ahead, with no invitation and want to know why I have a gun? You do realize how many people have tried to kill me right?” Andrea tilted her head back slightly, her eyes narrowed.        “Lena! Your shower is incredible! The—” Lena cringed. Kara went stock still. She was wearing one of the short bathrobes Lena had set out in the bathroom. At least she was wearing her glasses. Kara blinked and rubbed her eyes as if to dispel a vision. “There is a person here.” Andrea’s eyebrows were dangerously close to being enveloped by her hair.      “You didn’t mention having… company.” Lena smiled, it was reminiscent of a tiger baring its fangs.       “I did say I was busy.” Kara stepped forward, placing an arm around Lena’s waist. Her face was a similar color to her cape.      “Ms. Rojas, I didn’t know you’d be stopping by.” If her voice had been any higher pitched it would have been inaudible to the human ear. Andrea simply gaped. Finally she cleared her throat and said,      “It wasn’t a planned visit, Ms. Danvers.” Andrea flicked her eyes between the two women. Lena could practically see the cogs turning inside her brain. “Well, I think I’m done here.” Andrea cleared her throat. “If you hear anything Lena, do call.” She began toward the door.      “I— Ms. Rojas!” Kara squirmed and Andrea turned back. “Would you— I mean— I just—”      “Spit it out Danvers.”      “Would you maybe not tell anyone about this?” Somehow Kara managed to turn even redder. “It’s just that nobody knows and I really don’t want to have that conversation, especially if I’m not the one bringing it up and I know it could be a big story but—”      “Ms. Danvers.” Kara snapped her mouth shut. “So long as you two keep away from my cameras, your business is your business.” Andrea actually smiled,      “I’ll admit this does explain, well, a lot. Enjoy your… evening.” Andrea slipped out the door, into the elevator and reached for her earpiece.      “You heard all that. Pack up the team, she’s not here.”

     Kara and Lena remained frozen and silent until Lena’s tablet beeped with the notification that the elevator was descending. Great. Now it worked. As soon as she read the notice, Kara leapt away from Lena as though she had been burned.      “I am so, so sorry. It was the first thing that popped into my head. I just thought that was the best way to convince her she was wrong and if she figured out you were helping me you’d be a target too and I figured you’d prefer this over getting murdered and— Why are you laughing?”      Lena shook as she struggled to draw in breath. She looked up at Kara and simply redoubled in fits of laughter. Kara opened and closed her mouth like a gasping fish. Finally taking pity on Kara, she spoke,      “Kara. I would much prefer Andrea Rojas believe we are having a secret love affair than both of us getting shot.” She grinned, “Plus, that was the funniest thing I have seen in actual years. You made Andrea Rojas sputter like a 5 year old caught with their hand in the cookie jar.” Kara ducked her head and fidgeted with her sleeves.      “You sure?”      “Yes.” Lena took Kara’s cheeks in her hands and lifted her head up to eye level. “I’m glad you’re okay.” She raised an eyebrow, “Besides, for a friend like you there are no boundaries, remember?” Kara seemed to glow as her face split in a toothy smile. “Come on, you shouldn’t be standing this long with your injuries.” Lena carefully took Kara’s arm and sat her on the couch. Kara winced heavily at the angled motion. They sat together then, Kara resting her head on Lena’s shoulder, and after a few minutes Lena recognized the even breaths of sleep. Kara isn’t her friend, Lena reminds herself, Kara Danvers is not her friend. But maybe, a traitorous corner of her mind whispers, maybe she could be.