#I understand now anytime her hood is down her mask is off too

[chloesimaginationthings]

Gwen’s design be so good then BOOM she’s bald

[noelleai]

Noelle's mind was blown when she realized that her favorite childhood book wasn't just a children's story anymore. It had turned into something more, and now it could be anything the reader wanted it to be. The magic was in their hands! If you didn't think about what you were doing or where you were going, then pretty much anything could happen. It was like playing a video game except instead of pressing buttons on your controller, all you had to do was use your imagination. And that was why Noelle loved reading books so much; they helped her escape the real world for a little while until she got home.

The sky above looked like it was going to rain any minute, but Noelle wasn't worried. She'd read enough stories about dragons and wizards to know that they never went anywhere without an umbrella. Not even the Big Bad Wolf could stand being out in a storm, and he was one of the worst villains ever created.

She picked up another book and started flipping through the pages until she found the right spot. Once she did, she closed her eyes and began to picture herself in her favorite story. Instead of a wizard, she imagined herself as a princess. She was the kind of princess that didn't need saving and definitely didn't get kidnapped by goblins. Noelle liked her odds better than that. Maybe she'd go on some sort of magical quest or adventure to find the way back home.

It was strange how quickly the time passed. Noelle had no idea what she was doing with her life, but in an imaginary world like this one, she'd probably have tons of options. She was free to make her own choices, and whatever she decided, Noelle knew it would be the best choice for her.

As she wandered deeper into the forest, she started to hear voices talking nearby. They sounded far off, but she still couldn't see anything in front of her. She followed the sounds until they led her to a clearing, where she found a group of tall, intimidating creatures standing in a circle. They were all dressed in dark robes and wore hoods over their heads. The tallest of the bunch seemed to be in charge, and he held a staff with a glowing crystal at the top. He spoke in a raspy voice, his words muffled by his mask.

"We thank you for coming, Princess. You're welcome here anytime."

"Thank you," Noelle replied, but she was too busy staring at the creature who addressed her. His face was covered in scars and his eyes were sunken deep into his skull. Even though it was hard to tell under the shadow of his hood, she felt as if she knew him from somewhere...

"What's wrong?" asked one of the other creatures in the circle. "You seem distracted."

The masked one pointed back down the path. "Look. There they are now."

They turned to look, and immediately they all dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. The princess and the masked figure watched as the two humans approached. One of them was wearing a black robe and carried a staff, while the other was wearing white robes and had a glowing orb in his hand.

"Greetings, Princess," said the human wearing white. His voice sounded familiar, but Noelle couldn't place it.

She waved back. "Hello, Sir Human."

"I'm glad you decided to come," said the hooded one, standing up straight once again. "This meeting will prove very enlightening for both parties involved."

"As much as I hate to admit it, I have no idea what this guy is talking about either," said the other human in black, staring at his shoes as he spoke. The princess knew that he must be extremely nervous since his eyes kept darting around the forest floor. She wanted to help him feel better, but she didn't know how to do that.

"No problem," she replied quickly. "What can I do to make sure we understand each other?"

"Ah!" cried out the hooded figure, "Perfect! That's a perfect example of exactly why this is so important. In order for us to protect your identity and keep our worlds safe from harm, you need to understand how important it is to obey certain rules."

The two humans stared blankly into space.

"We've got it," said one in white, giving the other one an encouraging smile.

The masked figure scoffed. "You're such an idiot," he muttered under his breath. Then he continued speaking in a louder voice, addressing the princess directly. "In my world there are rules too, but they aren't written down anywhere and they aren't always made clear either. For instance, let's say I give you a million dollars to help me with something. Now I have given you money that you have never earned, and because I gave it to you without any explanation, then it would be only natural for you to wonder: 'Where did this come from? What do you want?' Those questions may seem harmless enough on the surface, but when put together like that... they begin to create trouble."

Noelle thought about this for a moment before responding.

"Okay..."

"Exactly!" the hooded figure shouted excitedly. "It's all about perspective! If we had time to explain ourselves fully to every single person who came into contact with us, we'd probably end up talking forever!" He clapped his hands once in front of his face as if trying to focus his attention. "That is why people like yourself need a guidebook, so you'll know exactly what to do in case of emergencies or when someone asks you a question you can't answer right away."

He lowered himself to one knee and leaned closer toward her.

"As a princess and future ruler, you must follow certain laws and guidelines to keep your subjects happy and safe. This will ensure that their daily lives remain peaceful and safe, and it won't take long until the entire country falls under your control." The masked figure took another step forward, almost bumping the human in white. "For example, no matter where I go in my world there are always these very important rules that I have to remember at all times. First, I'm supposed to wear black robes and a mask because that is how my superiors tell me to look. Second, I am never allowed to smile, frown, laugh or cry; those actions might be acceptable for regular citizens but not for me." He paused for a moment before continuing. "And finally, I have to say 'yes' or 'no', even when I don't know the answer. My life would be much simpler if I just answered everyone's questions with 'yes'."

The human in black cringed as the hooded figure got to his feet and stepped out of the circle.

"This is why the kingdom of monsters has established several guidelines to keep our society functioning. And as rulers, it is our job to make sure that each member of our species knows them all by heart," he said while facing the two humans directly now. "Do you understand?"

The man wearing white nodded, then looked over at the other one, who was still staring at his shoes.

"I think so..."

"I knew you would!" declared the hooded figure, clapping again. "Now let us begin." He took a small box from the side and held up a booklet. "First off: there are some things that you can only learn in this particular guidebook." The creature flipped through the pages until he reached an image of a dragon made entirely out of paper clips. "This here is called a paper clip dragon; it's just like any normal dragon except for the fact that it looks exactly like what it is, a pile of paper clips. It will do nothing but sit on top of your desk, which makes it perfect for hiding important documents."

The human with the orb had been paying close attention to everything and nodded his head when he heard the word 'dragon'. But as soon as the hooded one started speaking about 'important' documents... his eyes began to wander around the forest floor. Noelle watched him curiously and couldn't help wondering if he was thinking of something else instead. Was she the right person? Would they get along better without her in the picture? She didn't want to leave if she wasn't necessary to their world, but maybe this meeting would be good practice in case it came down to either/or later on.

"Next is the magic system," continued the masked figure, turning back to address everyone now. "We've put together this chart because we wanted it to be easy to remember. Just follow these rules at all times and you'll have no trouble staying alive! Do you see this little yellow box?" He pointed at one that sat near the bottom corner. "That box represents the basic concept that most humans use when it comes to describing spells, so whenever you hear someone saying those words, that's how you should understand them too!"

The two humans stared blankly into space again.

"Don't worry about it. That part will become much easier once you memorize the whole thing. I promise that by tomorrow night you won't even need a book anymore." The creature placed a finger over the image of a brown and white bird, then said: "Now let me explain the last rule." He lowered his hand and picked up a piece of paper from his pocket. It looked like some sort of report with lots of text and numbers written across its entire surface. It took him several minutes to finish reading what was written there before finally sighing with relief. "There, that wasn't so bad. It seems like everything is under control."

The other human still seemed confused but he smiled nonetheless when he heard the news.

"Are you done yet?" asked the human in black after the hooded one turned around and started walking away. "What are we supposed to do next? We can't read this stuff!"

"Of course you can," replied the one in white quickly while smiling at the princess.

"You're not helping," shouted the masked figure back. Then he turned toward her and shook his head. "If only more people knew how to use their heads..."

"It's fine," she assured him. "I think I've got it figured out now. What would be our next step?"

He paused for a moment before answering, as if trying to make sure he could speak without revealing too much about himself.

"First, I'd like you to choose which color you want your robes to be." He pointed behind them, where dozens of different-colored boxes stood against the wall. They were all lined up perfectly, waiting for anyone who might happen by. The ones closest to them held dark gray and silver robes, along with the two shades of red they had already seen earlier today. "This isn't something that we normally have to tell people, since it doesn't matter at this point anyway... but you have a special status here, so you get an extra choice that others don't. In fact, some might say that you actually come from another world entirely."

The princess stepped closer towards the boxes, then took a deep breath and picked one that sat right beside them on the wall. She opened it and found herself holding a light blue robe. It felt very soft and comfortable, just like the white gowns and nightgowns she usually wore every night in Hometown. But when she turned around to show him what she had chosen, he simply nodded his head and said: "Good choice." { TYPE: Long-form story * M2 }

[deathbymeow]

Safe Haven

This is the third part of 'To Flirt with a Hood' and 'Jokes on you'

Warning: course language and sexual references.

This is for mature audience due to sexual references. Its a little bit spicier than in use to writing, just a heads up. I totally blame the characters, they made me do it!

Halloween was officially over. It was three in the morning and Jason was standing outside one of his safehouses with Marinette in his arms. It was the only one his family didn’t know about. The studio apartment was located a few blocks from the docks, in a building that was once an old warehouse now turned into high-end apartments.

It was his safe haven when he needed timeout from his chaotic family or when life just got too much.

The walls were lined with bookcases and various weapons. From guns to deadly katanas, no normal person would find the décor homely but to Jason the apartment had everything he needed. It was unforgivingly him, maybe that’s why he was doubting his decision to bring Marinette back here.

Jason had offered to take her home, but the raven-haired beauty asked if he had somewhere quiet he could take her. She insisted her roommates would overreact to her injuries and she didn’t want to deal with that yet.

To be totally honest Jason was relieved, he wasn't ready to let her out of his sight. He felt an overwhelming need to protect her, even if she didn't need it. There was no way he’d be able to get any rest worrying about her and he wasn’t sure once Roy found out what happened if the red head would let Jason anywhere near her again.

Jason looked down at Marinette thankful that other than a mild concussion, a few cracked ribs, cuts and bruises she was okay. Dr Leslie Thompkins had given her the all clear after multiple scans and a few stiches on the side of her head and wrist. Now all she needed to do was rest.

“You can put me down, I won’t break. Promise.” Marinette’s voice brought him back from the what ifs and he nodded setting her down gently. He didn’t entirely let her go until he was sure she was stable on her feet.

“Let me just unlock the door and we can get you cleaned up.” He punched the code into the keypad and then let the scanner read his eyes to confirm it was him.

Once the door opened, he swept her off her feet again careful not to jolt her ribs and walked into the apartment closing the door with his foot.

“Jay, you know my legs still work right?” Marinette asked holding onto his neck as he carried her over to the couch.

“Mmhmm, but it’s all part of the Red Hood service sweetheart.” Jason put her on the couch. He took his gloves off, unbuckled his gun holster from his waist and legs then set it down on the coffee table before kneeling in front of her.

She reached out and softly ran her finger over the outline of his domino mask. “So, not just a Halloween costume, huh?”

“You could say that. I didn’t want to lie to you. Most of what I said was true I just wasn’t working tonight.” He answered leaning into her hand and brushing his lips against her palm. “Not in that sense anyway.”

“You don’t have to explain it. You have a secret identity to uphold after all.” She whispered enjoying the feeling of his lips against her skin.

“What if I didn’t want it to be a secret?” He wanted nothing more to be just Jason with her without the stupid mask coming between them.

He’d only just met her. There was something about her that had him falling for her already, and it wasn’t just because she’d killed the clown. He wasn’t one to give in to his emotions or trust easily, but she did something to him that he was struggling to understand himself. He’d seen her cheeky playful side at the party that first sparked his interest. Not to mention that kiss he wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon. Then she turned into this bad ass that took out one of Gotham’s most notorious rogues. She seemed to follow the same grey moral code he did and wasn’t afraid to show it. Yeah, he was a goner already.

“Well, I’d say you’d have one angry bat after you.” She playfully bopped the nose bringing him out of his own head.

“I don’t want to hide from you Marinette. I’m going to ask you on a date without the mask, so you’ll work it out anyway.” He leaned into her space and rested his arms on either side of her, allowing her easier access to his mask.

“Are you sure?” She hesitantly asked as her hands hovered in front of his face.

Jason swallowed trying to calm his nerves and nodded. Closing his eyes as he felt her hands gently lift his mask off. He opened his eyes and looked at her for the first time without anything covering his eyes. The deep blue of her irises was even more striking than he thought, and he could clearly see the blush creeping over her cheeks.

“Pretty eyes.” Marinette breathed rubbing her thumbs over the tops of his cheeks where the mask was only moments before.

“Not as pretty as yours Pixie.” He moved even closer, his nose almost brushing hers as he lost himself in her eyes.

“Well, we will just have to agree to disagree on that one Casanova.” Her breath fanned across his face and her nose brushed his.

“If you say…” He never got to finish his sentence as her lips crashed into his.

The kiss was laced with all the what ifs that would never be discussed. Jason dug his hands into the soft fabric of the couch to stop himself from grabbing her anywhere that may hurt her injuries. Marinette wasn’t nearly as careful and bit his bottom lip. When he moaned in satisfaction, she slipped her tongue into his mouth.

The earlier taste of tequila had been replaced with the metallic taste of blood, but Jason was too lost in the neediness of the kiss to care. She slid off the couch and rested on his lap with her knees at either side of his hips, her hands tangled in his hair holding him against her. He let go of the couch and grabbed her ass, pulling her against him.

It wasn’t until she flinched and whimpered into his mouth that he pulled back breathing deeply that he realised how they’d ended up. “Shit, I’m sorry Pix. I shouldn’t have… we shouldn’t.” He rested his forehead against hers and loosened his hands on her, moving them to her lower back.

“No, I’m sorry I, I shouldn’t have assumed…” She leaned back and tried to stand up, but he gently held onto her waist.

“Wait no, I. I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want you to regret anything. Tonight, was a lot, especially for a civilian.”

“Who said I was a civilian?” with her confidence returned she playfully winked at him.

“Wait what?” He studied her for a moment trying to work out if she was joking or not. When she gave nothing away, he shook his head. “You know what, don’t answer that. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Jason softly kissed her nose then stood up still holding her and walked to the bathroom. “We can unpack that one after we’ve slept.”

Jason sat Marinette on the vanity and started to fill up the basin with warm water. He helped her out of the replica of his jacket. Her costume had been torn and covered in blood and soot, but he’d never forget how she looked in his outfit. At the beginning of the night when he’d thought about taking it off this wasn’t what he had in mind. Trying to clear his wandering mind he grabbed a clean cloth and dunked it into the water then started to carefully wipe the makeup, blood and soot off her face.

“Close your eyes.” Jason asked softly.

Marinette didn’t hesitate and closed her eyes trying not to flinch when he gently ran the cloth over her bruised cheek. The bathroom was quiet except for the sound of the water. When Jason was finally satisfied that he’d removed everything off her face he traced his fingers over her jaw line, her cheek bone, down her nose and over her lips. Marinette hummed in appreciation. She had yet to open her eyes but as his finger traced over her lips for the second time, she kissed the pad of his thumb.

Opening her eyes, she was surprised to find his face so close to hers. She marvelled at how his eyes were a unique shade of blue mixed with flecks of green. He closed the gap and kissed her nose.

“All done.” He whispered against her lips. You could have cut the sexual tension with a knife but nether acted on it.

He gently turned her face to look at the darking bruise on her cheek then her split lip. “If you hadn’t of killed him, I sure as hell would have.” He growled.

“How, how much did you see?” She asked looking anywhere but his eyes now. She vaguely remembered making an off handed comment to Batman about the clown, but she wasn’t sure if they knew what had really happened in the warehouse.

Jason could tell she was worried about his answer. He wanted to reassure her that she hadn’t done anything wrong. “Please, look at me.” His voice was soft, and he didn’t continue until she did. “You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

“I’m sure Batman doesn’t think that.”

“Fuck what Batman thinks. That clown has taken countless lives, including one of his robins and he still let the monster live.” Jason growled trying to hold back his anger. If Bruce had just killed the clown or better still, let Jason do it, Marinette wouldn’t have been put in this situation in the first place. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. And I know one angry redhead that’s going to have your back too.”

“Shit. Roy. Does he know I’m okay?” Marinette sat upright and would have jumped off the vanity if it wasn’t for Jason’s hands that were now resting on her hips as he leaned over her protectively.

“Yeah, bout that. I may have kinda lied to him earlier.” Jason straightened up and rubbed the back of his neck. He knew how his best friend could get over people he cared about, and he knew there was going to be repercussions. “I’ll go get you some clean clothes and text him now.”

“Sucks to be you.” Marinette smirked at Jason and giggled when he frowned.

“Hey thanks. Lucky we’re at my secret, secret safe house then.”

“Cute of you to think that will stop him from finding us.” Marinette said playfully. All though Marinette’s tone was teasing Jason wouldn’t put it pass Roy to somehow find them.

“Can I take a shower? My hair feels so gross.” She pulled the tangled ends of her dark hair in front of her face to study them only to regret doing it.

“You shouldn’t get your stiches wet, Pixie.” Jason gentle took her bandaged wrist in his big hands as if to remind her of her injury’s.

“Come on Jay. I have blood in my hair. I’ll let you dry them off afterwards and redo the bandages.” She begged pouting and giving him the best sad eyes, he’d ever seen.

Jason took one look at her face and knew he was fucked. There was no way he could have said no to her. “Yeah okay, but I really should help you for safety reasons.” He winked at her as he lifted her off the vanity leaving his hands on her waist. His fingers brushed against her exposed skin.

“Is that part of the Red Hood service too?” She asked running her hands up his chest and around his neck.

“Mmhmm. In case you fall.” His finger skimmed under the waist band of her shorts sending tingles over her sensitive skin.

“I think I already am.” She pulled him down and claimed his lips with hers.

Jason pulled her against him, careful not to bump her ribs. He loved how she mewed against his lips as his hands traced the soft skin above her shorts. He broke the kiss and gently removed her hands from around his neck. She was about to protest when he kneeled in front of her. His hands grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him.

Marinette softly moaned when his lips met her bellybutton. He nipped and kissed at her soft skin as his hands worked at undoing the gun holster from her thighs and waist. Her hands worked into his hair again as she melted against his mouth. The feeling of his calloused hands holding her thighs while his thumb ran up and down the sensitive skin between her legs had her whimpering. The same thumbs grazed over the zipper of her shorts stopping at the top.

Jason toyed with the button looking up at her with lust filled eyes. “Is this okay?” He asked smirking up at her flustered face.

Marinette looked down at him. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, and she could feel her pulse between her legs. She nodded and breathed a soft “Mmhmm.”

That was all he needed to pull her shorts off. Trailing kisses from the lace trim of her panties down to her most sensitive spot. He felt her quiver in his hands and he hummed against her as he tasted her through the wet material.

Jason rested his head against her toned stomach. He wanted nothing more than to pull her panties off and finish what he’d started but he was torn between taking things slow and devouring her right here and now. As if knowing his mental turmoil, her hands untangled from his hair and lifted his chin up. He stood and she was quick to grab his face and kiss him. The kiss was needy, and it wasn’t long before his jacket was discarded on the floor with her shorts.

Marinette ran her hands under his Kevlar top appreciating every hard muscle she felt. Jason was melting against her touch. He was burning from the inside out. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the room but that didn’t matter because that wasn’t what he needed. Breaking the kiss momentarily, he pulled his top over his head hoping it would help to cool his boiling blood. It was added to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He looked at her top wondering how he could get it off her without jolting her ribs.

She watched with lust filled eyes as he pulled a knife from somewhere. His hand lingered in the hem of her top with questioning eyes. When she nodded, he ran the knife through the material with one swift motion. The knife was discarded, and he pulled the remains of her top off her shoulders.

Jason let his eyes linger on her body. Her bra and panties were simple black cotton with lace trim, her sides were littered with dark bruises, but she still looked sexy as hell. Her body was toned to perfection, and he wanted to run his mouth over every curve until he’d memorized her whole body. He knew she was staring at him too, taking in every muscle and scar.

He felt exposed but in the best way possible. She traced one of the scars on his chest then kissed it softly before moving onto the next. Jason closed his eyes and let her explore his skin with her mouth. The sensation was too much for Jason when she reached the thick scar on his neck and ran her tongue over it. He moaned and grabbed her ass, lifting her up against him. She giggled and wrapped her legs around his waist earning another moan from Jason as she pressed against him.

Still holding her in his arms he kicked off his boots. His pants were restricting him, and the pressure was starting to become painful. Before he could do anything about his growing problem, Marinette’s small hands undid his pants and pushed them down. Her hands brushed against him in the process, and he groaned against her neck.

“Fuck, Pix you’re makin things very hard. Literally and figuratively.”

She answered by moving her hips and grinding against him, giggling when he tightened his hands on her ass and closed his eyes.

“Yep. That’s going to get you in all kinda trouble.” He kissed her, groaning as she did it again.

“Maybe that’s what I’m counting on. After all you did tease me first.” She purred pulling back and looking up at him.

Jason couldn’t help but smirk at her. Her lips were red from their heated kisses and her big blue eyes watched him hungerly. “Let’s get you cleaned up sweetheart.” He breathed as he cared her over to the shower and turned the water on.

Jason set her down in the shower under the warm water. She looked up at him through her wet lashes. Her blue eyes seemed to grow under the water, and he had to use all his self-control to turned her around. She pushed her butt into him, and he had to fight every urge he had to not bend her over. Instead, he grabbed the shampoo bottle and started to wash her hair gently trying to avoid her stiches.

Marinette behaved for the better half of the shower and let Jason silently wash her sore body around her underwear. The painkillers were starting to wear off and fatigue was starting to set in. She rested her body against Jason’s chest and closed her eyes.

“All clean baby girl. Let’s get you too bed.” Jason whispered in her ear. His hands drew lazy circles on her stomach as she rested her back against him, giggling as he nipped at her ear and kissed the sensitive spot under her jaw.

“Was kinda hoping you’d make me dirty again.” She mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Yeah, not going to lie Pix, you have no idea how much I want you right now, but I want to do this right. I feel like I already took advantage of you.” Jason turned the water off and turned her around to look her in the eyes.

“Pfft, what are you talking about? You were about to do me right, till you stopped.” She mumbled as she opened her eyes and pouted at him before yawning.

Jason laughed at her antics as he wrapped a towel around her and lifted her out of the shower. “I’m choosing to ignore that comment. Dry off, I’ll be back with some clothes for you. There should be a spare toothbrush in the cupboard above the sink.”

He set her down then wrapped a towel around his waist and headed upstairs. Drying off quickly he threw on sweatpants and a t-shirt. Next task was to text Roy. He wasn’t too sure how much Roy had heard about the nights events so he sent a vague message saying that Marinette was fine but fast asleep and that she would call him as soon as she woke up.

Jason headed back down to the bathroom with a spare pair of his sweatpants and a hoodie for Marinette even though they were going to be way too big for her. He knocked on the door. “Hey Pixie, I’ve got some clothes for you.”

The door opened to a Marinette wrapped in a towel. Jason could see her wet bra and panties on the floor and tried not to think about it, but it wasn’t an easy task. He was only human and when it came to her, he was quickly learning he had no self-control.

“Thank you.” She took the clothes and before he could do or say anything she turned around and dropped the towel giving him a perfect view of her tight ass until his hoodie fell over it and he quickly snapped his eyes up. He swallowed thickly trying to recover. She glanced over her shoulder and smirked knowingly at him.

Once she’d slid on the sweatpants Jason grabbed the towel and set about drying her hair and trying to detangle it with his hands. The sexual tension had returned thanks to her antics, and it didn’t help Jason seeing her in his clothes. They were both silent as he worked quietly to rewrap her wrist after making sure he’d dried the wound off. His eyes flickered to her every so often to find her watching him closely.

Her ribs were next. It only added to the tension that left them both a flustered mess. He tried his hardest working blind under the hoodie but several times his hands unintentionally brushed against her bare breasts. She had her eyes closed and the way she was biting her lip was doing things to him.

He finally finished with her ribs and took a deep breath trying to calm his beating heart. “Okay, let’s get you to bed.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him.

“To, to sleep. I’ll take the couch.” He mumbled taking her hand and leading her to his bed on the mezzanine level.

“It’s your bed Jay.”

“Yeah, but I can’t trust myself to keep my hands to myself and you need the sleep sweetheart.” Jason said as he helped her into his bed.

Jason propped the pillows up till she was as comfortable as she could get with several broken ribs and the bruises that littered her sides. He passed her a glass of water and some of the pain killers the Doc had given them.

She took them but pulled a face and was about to protest till he cut her off. “Please don’t be stubborn Pix. It will help the pain. Trust me tryin to sleep with broken ribs isn’t fun. Ten out of ten, don’t recommend.”

“Fine. But you owe me morning snuggles.” She mumbled before putting the tablets on her tongue and swallowing a mouthful of water.

“That can be arranged gorgeous.” He took the glass and leaned down to kiss her forehead before tucking her in.

He could tell she was barely staying awake now she was clean and warm. He couldn’t help but smile as she yawned. “Get some sleep Pixie. I���ll just be downstairs if you need me.” Before he’d even finished talking her eyes closed and her breathing evened out.

Jason grabbed one of his books and headed downstairs. He was exhausted but there was no way he could sleep. Now that Marinette was asleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had taken place since meeting her. His head was filled with mixed emotions, and it was going to take some time to process everything.

Jason woke an hour later to screams coming from the direction of his bed. He didn’t waste any time to grabbing one of his guns off the coffee table and running upstairs. In the dim light he couldn’t see anyone. He quickly realised by Marinette’s whimpers that she was having a nightmare.

He put the safety back on then put the gun down and sat next to Marinette. Carefully he wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear. “Shhh, it’s ok Pixie. It’s just a bad dream. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

After a few minutes she opened her eyes. She was still crying and shivering but she’d acknowledged Jason’s presence by wrapping her hands around his arms.

“It’s ok. Pix shhh. I’ve got you.”

“Please stay Jay. I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m not going to go anywhere.” He whispered into her hair. She nodded and climbed between his legs, leaning against his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. He gently stroked her hair while still holding onto her.

It took some time but slowly she stopped shivering and her sobs lessened. Jason thought she must have fallen asleep again until she softly whispered, “Jay?”

“Yeah?”

She traced her fingers up his arm and over his biceps then back down again. “You have a lot of books.”

Not what he was expecting. Her statement caught him of guard. He turned his head to look at his bookcase. “Mmhmm, it’s kinda my thing when I’m not, you know, a vigilante.”

“So, you’re a nerd with guns?”

He snicked and rubbed his nose in her hair. “Mmhmm.”

“Cute… Can you read to me? My pappa use to read to me when I couldn’t sleep.” She shifted in his arms so her ear was flat against his chest.

“Sure.” Jason grabbed the book on his bedside table that happened to be A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. Jason relaxed into the pillows with Marinette still curled up infront of him. “Are you comfy?”

“Mmhmm.” She hummed into his chest.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good and evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”

The last paragraph is an extract from 'A Tale of Two Cities' by Charles Dickens. I didn't write it or take any credit for it.

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[unholyplumpprincess]

Speak Up

A commission for @mintocchi ! Thank you so very much for your patience while I moved everything around :D

Summary: You and Crypto have been in a relationship for awhile now, and he's still got issues when trying to speak up for things that he wants. You always try to get him to voice his opinions and concerns, and somehow this leads to training him how via the bedroom. Or! In which Crypto needs to learn to stop being an actions over words guy or else you'll make him beg over and over again for what he wants.

Reblogs > Likes. Please Reblog if you hit Like :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Crypto/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is gender neutral and written with a vulva, they were originally supposed to be a cis gal but there’s no real language depicting them as strictly a gal!, Denial and forcing Crypto to beg and use his big boy words, P tame kink wise!

Words: 5k

___________________

Starstruck. 

That’s how you had first felt when you had met Crypto. 

You were a new camera operator on the set of the Apex games, someone who got all the good angles and made sure the drone cameras could really catch all the action. You’d met him the same season he’d been introduced, noting how he’d been cold and disregarding, yet appeared confident in himself. But his eyes, they’d been so...paranoid. Especially when you approached to introduce yourself as one of the camera operators. 

He’d regarded you with a short, quick nod. Odd, you’d thought. But that had quickly vanished when Elliott had taken you aside and chatted you up, an arm slung around your shoulder and a grin on his face. “Hey, don’t mind the kid, probably still jet lagged, dropships, bein’ legends and all- anyway sooooo I hear you operate those cameras now, huh? Make sure you get all my good angles- not that any of them are bad, just, you know, keep that attention on the money maker you feel me? The money maker being me, of course-” 

~Rest under the cut~

“Mirage.” Crypto’s voice had cut in between you two, watching as you both had turned and you could note his irritated look at Elliott before a much more apologetic one was glanced your way. “Apologies. He does not understand personal boundaries-” 

Elliott feigns a dramatic gasp, cutting Crypto off with his free hand against his own chest as if wounded. 

You stifle your laugh when Elliott keeps up the act, sputtering before pointing at Crypto accusingly. “Woah, woah, woah, I’ll have you know that I know this lovely thing. Used to be the tech head up iiiiiiin- audio, right?” He turns towards you after that, squeezing his arm around your shoulders in a friendly way as you beam at being remembered. 

“That’s right! I was actually hoping to speak to you, Crypto,” You gesture at him, noting Crypto’s light surprise of raised eyebrows before confusion and worry passes his features. Quick to overthink, huh? 

You’re quick to follow up to ease his possible fears. “N-not! Not as an employee, I mean, I just- your, uh, your drone. They kinda remind me of an old camera used back in the day and I was wondering if you had any tips or tricks I might be able to pick up on?” 

That’s what started the relationship in the first place. Crypto, that day, had offered merely a one shouldered shrug, but after Mirage giving him a look and whining to him like a puppy, he’d agreed. Resulting in you having your own private session with him as he helped you learn a few tips. You were already trained in operating the newer models, but having a few pointers never hurt. 

The entire time he’d asked questions about you, it almost felt like he was interrogating you rather than trying to start up curious small talk. But, to ease any fears he might have had about you having ulterior motives, you answered as honestly as possible to each one. Judging by his more paranoid nature, you didn’t ask any in turn for fear of him shying away. 

The least you wanted to do was make Crypto feel as though you were untrustworthy. 

As you two grew closer, the more relaxed he became around you. No more tips were to be given, so that excuse flew out the window, so you’d offered hang outs. It took a few tries until he finally mumbled he’d feel more comfortable in his room, which is where you two ended up being and you learned he had a sweet little cat named Isabella-Marie. 

You had smiled at her name, asking where he got the idea from, and he’d smiled softly- almost sadly when he’d said she was his sister’s cat he took in, but no more information. Said cat took to you nicely, and just as she had, Crypto started warming up to you as well. 

It was a slow, slow process. You took your time with him and learned that the personality he put on was nothing but a front. Something to keep more hidden. In private, he’s so soft, almost shy in his approach to you. He’s still got his sarcastic tongue, but he’s more playful when in private with you. Much like a cat. You see him opening up the slightest bit to people he’s starting to enjoy too- Elliott and Natalie both seem to have won some sort of favor with him. 

That friendship slowly worked its way into romantic. 

The first time you kissed him is with your hand cupping his cheek and his cheeks flushed red as his dark eyes flickered to your lips multiple times until you took initiative. It took a bit of coaxing to even get him to rest his hands on your waist, but once that had happened, it’s like he’d been so touch starved all his life. Clinging to you and sighing into your mouth as if he’d just sunken into bed after a long day. 

His need for touch didn’t surprise you considering when you offered hugs and snuggles that he’d melt into you and cling to you so tightly. Your height difference, with you being much shorter, made that kind of funny when he’d lean down to bury his face in your neck and you’d stand on your tiptoes to make it easier. All within a private setting- outside of these rooms, you were both strictly professional. 

Crypto’s name had been revealed to you not long after. Tae Joon Park. You both agreed that if you used it frequently that you might yell it in public, so it was reserved for more intimate moments or serious when you two were alone. You were mindful about switching his name, so you kept to using ‘Crypto’ in your head to ensure you wouldn’t fuck it up. 

Though, it never failed to delight you in hearing him sigh fondly when you’d mumble his name by his ear after a sweet kiss. 

Dates were more reserved for the bedrooms as well. You never minded that either, but sometimes on rare occasions, he’d don a mask and a hood so you two could go out. You could only imagine the type of anxiety those outings brought, but it always warmed your heart that he was willing to take a breath and push himself out to do these things for you. In turn, you would spend the nights with him, with his head on your chest and his arms squeezing around your middle. 

Crypto, you quickly find however, is really bad at vocalizing his desires. 

He’s a man of action, hardly using his words and if he did it was one worded or quick. You’ve been trying to help him on communication skills for both your sakes, but it’s more difficult on him. It doesn’t help that he’s quiet either, so sneaking up behind you to snake his arms around you normally results in you jumping and making a squeak sound. 

But it also meant that for more...bedroom activities, that he would use actions. You always knew when he wanted something, you weren’t blind to it, you just wanted to make 100% sure of what he wanted. Normally resulting in you straddling his lap, a hand around his neck and speaking low for him to tell you what he wanted. 

Crypto always got the cutest face anytime you took the reins and control. A healthy flush over his cheeks, his breathing heavier and his eyes pleading, but his mouth refusing. 

 Stubborn was a good way to put it. How his eyebrows would furrow and he’d whimper and buck his hips up, but not tell you what he wanted. It took a lot of trial and error to even get him to utter ‘please’ at times. Your poor baby. 

You especially found you liked teasing him. Learning quick that he liked nicknames like ‘Good boy’ and ‘Baby boy’. You enjoyed edging him, tying him up or even just making him cling to the sheets or his own hair as his hips humped the air and he sobbed without begging for you. Always trying so hard to convey in his body language what he wanted you to do. 

You found yourself mesmerized by his desperation at a lot of times. Where Crypto’s kiss flushed lips would part, his eyebrows knitted and his eyes frantic on you. His own hands gripping his hair to follow instructions on not to touch you as his hips thrust into the air and made his thick cock bob. 

Sometimes you wondered if he could cum just by humping the air alone. 

Another time, you’d always tell yourself, always so eager to hear that final sobbed out word of ‘Please’ before you would swing your legs over him and ride him hard and fast. Normally fit with cruel croons about what a sweet, pathetic little thing he looked like. Your very good boy. 

That’s what you were thinking of now as you sat on the couch in his quarters, waiting for him to return from his match in the arena. 

Isabella-Marie is happily purring in your lap as your hand strokes through her soft, strawberry blonde fur. You’ve set up there with a blanket over your lap that she’s kneading happily, the match Crypto had been in having ended about an hour ago. You could tell he was struggling, too much talking around him that was reflecting in his steps. 

He’d been in a team with Mirage and Wattson, both people you knew he liked being around, but unfortunately, they kept striking up conversation. Leading to Crypto being off his rhythm. But it was nice to hear him breathe out in amusement at their antics sometimes, caught on the audio feed with the announcers crooning about how it looked like he made some friends finally. 

They at least made it to the top three. Fighting valiantly to maintain their location on World’s Edge in the city. Mirage had gotten cocky when they’d knocked two of the opposite team, going up to finish them off and ending up with a shotgun in the back and a cracking snarl in the sky of Bloodhound. 

The rest is history. But, at least you knew Bloodhound wouldn’t be the type to gloat and act cocky if they caught Crypto- at least out loud. You’re glad it was them rather than Caustic. Bad blood ran deep between them, not to mention Natalie struggling herself with it all. You were glad her and Crypto could solve whatever issue it was that ran between them- one that not even you were aware of. 

Security and secrecy, Crypto had told you with apology in his eyes. You understood, some things were best kept secret. Especially in case you accidentally got caught up in a mess, you could genuinely say you had no idea what was happening in all the legends’ lives. 

The beep of the door being unlocked makes Isabella-Marie awaken, doing a stretch across your lap before she chirps and hurries to the door to greet Crypto. She curls around his feet as he removes his shoes at the door before entering any further into the room in the rest of his gear. 

“Hello, sweetheart,” You hear him tiredly coo downwards, hearing Isabella-Marie's delighted chirp as she’s scooped up, quickly followed by her loud motor engine of a purr. 

You slide off the couch, dressed in your lounging outfit of soft black sweatpants covered with cliché little green alien heads and a loose gray sweater with a green Apex symbol over the right breast, the collar falling off your shoulders. Crypto looks worse for wear, his eyes are tired and he’s got dirt smudged on his cheek and smells heavy of sweat. Not that Isabella-Marie minds. Nor you. 

“Hey,” You greet him, a smile on your face as his eyes rest on you whilst his cat presses her cheek in insistent strokes against his chin, cradled in his arms. 

“Hey,” He murmurs back to you, adjusting Isabella-Marie in his arms when you reach for him. Despite his tired expression, his cheeks flush when he leans down and to the side for you to cup his cheeks and peck a kiss on his lips in greeting. 

“You need a shower. You go wash up and I’ll order dinner.” You tell him, offering your arms out for Isabella-Marie to be transferred to your arms in all her purring glory. “What were you thinking tonight?” 

“Mmh.” Is his only reply, leaning down to rest his cheek on the top of your head in a small nuzzle. Affectionate boy. You laugh a bit, gently nudging him with your hip as Isabella-Marie jumps out of your arms. Giving you time to hook your arms around his waist and shove your hands into his back pockets under his jacket to draw him close and make him blush. 

“Tae Jooooon,” You tease his name, enjoying how he hums low in his throat in response and turning his head to press his lips against the top of your head in a kiss. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t go your whole life being a one worded man.” 

“Mmh.” He responds again, this time with a smile that you feel. 

You shove at him playfully to shoo him off for the shower, calling out after his back when he goes dutifully towards the bathroom. “Fine! But if you don’t like what I picked because you didn’t give any options, I don’t wanna hear you complain!” 

Not that he ever did complain. If he was picky this would be a bigger concern. But thankfully you two seemed to be on the same page a lot of times, especially when it came to food. 

The food you order is Chinese takeout, getting here just in time for when Crypto emerges from his long shower looking a lot more awake and less grouchy. He’s dressed in his thick framed glasses, his normally slicked back hair nice and slick, some black sweatpants and a loose white crop-top, something you appreciate very greatly to be able to see his fit frame. 

Like a nerdy jock. 

You show your enjoyment when you wrap your arms around him from behind when he goes to look at what you got for dinner. Running your nails up his exposed beauty-marked, warm skin on his abdomen to feel him squirm and lean back against you with this flustered huff falling from his lips. 

Eventually you two make it to the couch where you have dinner and watch one of the K-dramas he liked to indulge in. Sometimes Crypto will pause it to explain a verbal pun that wasn’t caught via the subtitles for you, something that always makes you smile and appreciate when he takes the time to pause and explain for you. 

Though you’re sure he doesn’t appreciate when you wait for his most distracted point in time to steal a piece of his food and shove it in your mouth too quickly for him to stop you. Resulting in him poking at you until you squeal from being tickled and he can take a piece off your food in retaliation as you whine at him after. 

Domestic. That’s the best way you could describe yours and Crypto’s relationship. 

Home. 

After dinner is put away and teeth are brushed, you two settle back onto the couch. You curl up on the corner, Crypto following you to cuddle up to your side. His cheek rests against your shoulder, kind of tilting his body into you as you rest your arm behind him, your hand resting on his nape to slide up to pet at the shaved portion of his head. Another hum from him of appreciation, but not verbalizing his like of it. 

Crypto softly adjusts, but you take it as nothing more than him getting closer to you with the soft sound of the TV in front of you. You’ve got your phone in your lap to play a puzzle game while he watches his show, very much like a cat as he rubs his cheek against your shoulder affectionately. 

Another squirm, another adjustment is felt after a moment of him pressing his thigh to yours. You take it as him wanting to be closer, only sliding your fingers higher along his scalp to the coarse hair atop his head to lightly scratch at the root like he likes. 

You don’t notice his mouth starting to part, quickly cut off with the ringing of your phone and you groaning aloud. “Really? Right now?” Before you’re answering it with a polite ‘Hello?’ that makes Crypto snort at your tone change. 

He watches as you chat, watching your lips move and hearing you discuss footage and what your boss must have wanted you to edit or someone else. He’s not really paying attention when you’re still petting his hair. He tries to nudge closer to you, near flush with your side as his hand now rests on your thigh, hoping to catch your attention. You only offer him a quick smile before returning back to your conversation. 

After five minutes, it’s clear this isn’t going to be a short call either. 

A sigh is heard from Crypto before he’s leaning up to start pecking soft, brushing kisses on your neck. Your head tilts for him, only a light flutter of your lashes as you go ‘Mmhm yeah’ to whoever you are on the phone with. Your nails press lightly at his scalp, letting him know you feel him as his teeth lightly nip at your neck like you like. 

You’re damned good at keeping your composure verbally, and now Crypto’s beginning to wonder if you’ve ever done anything on the phone with him without his knowledge. Even the mental image of you spread out and touching yourself while on the phone near making him whine, something he swallows down. 

You clearly can feel him and see him. You offer a little smile when he peeks up at you, catching your gaze. Emboldened by you sparing even a little attention to him, his hand slides down to your wrist in hopes you’ll catch up to what he’s saying. Gently drawing it to his thigh and towards his inner thigh. And yet, you still chat on the phone, but now you’re squeezing and massaging his thigh, your pinkie lightly skimming over his crotch and making Crypto’s breath hitch against your shoulder. 

His brows are furrowed, looking ever so frustrated as you now purposefully lengthen the conversation out by bringing back a point from the last game played. Crypto’s head tips lightly up to you, his eyes pleading with you when your knuckles brush over the bulge in his sweatpants. 

Your eyes meet his and you quirk a brow with a light smirk on your face. Your eyes say enough for him, you’re sure, judging by how his face flushes and his brows furrow once again. You can see and feel how he squirms, realizing he’s not going to get anything until he uses his words. 

He’s stubborn. He’s always so stubborn. Squirming in his place and getting more frustrated as you keep chatting. Only after three minutes does he finally give in when he realizes this isn’t going to work and you’re only going to keep teasing him through his pants. 

“Please?” He all but whispers, his mouth felt quivering on your bare shoulder and his hot breath felt in a shaky exhale. “Please touch me, please?” 

You smirk. 

“Oh! Hey, boss, looks like I’ll have to chat with you tomorrow morning about that- uhuh, yeah, yeah, getting,” -You pause there to let out a feigned yawn- “Oof, yeah, getting real tired....uhuh, yeah, sounds good! Buh-bye.” Before you’re ending the call and practically pouncing on him. 

You end up in his lap, straddling him and cupping his cheeks, brushing some of his hair from his face before you lean in to kiss him. Crypto’s hands find your waist, hovering at first before gripping you when you lick into his mouth after biting his lip to make him gasp. 

You sit up higher to press him back into the couch, letting your hands slide into his hair for him to tip his head back when you pull at it. His moan is low and vibrates his chest when your tongue licks over his own, feeling his hips jerk lightly up and against your ass needily. 

“I like when you beg,” You breathe as you part from the kiss, moving the kisses down his jawline and towards his ear where you lightly nip. “Do it again for me?” 

“Nnh-” Is the only response he manages at first, his fingers shaking as they slide down to grip your hips when you start grinding across his lap. Back and forth to your own rhythm and feeling just how hard he is. Bless whoever made sweatpants. 

Crypto’s so cute when you pull back to look at him. Where his head is tipped back and to the side, his lips parted and letting out ragged breaths with each drag of your hips across his lap. How his brows knit together when you grind low and slow downwards to catch his attention and his mouth falls closed to hiss. 

But. He still wasn’t speaking. 

“Be a good boy and tell me what you want, hm?” You try to encourage him, letting your hands fall down to his exposed abdomen to slide your hands up and under his crop top. Slipping your hands over his chest to thumb at his sensitive nipples, gently pinching and rolling them. Crypto whimpers sharply, his head rolling to the opposite side and looking more stubborn by the second as he strains to come up with words. 

“I-I-” His voice comes out in a whine, framed by how his lips quiver and his blunt nails cling to your hips when you stop grinding to encourage him further. “I...I want your mouth. On- o-on my cock. Please?”  

“Awww, baby, when you look that cute? I’d do just about anything for you.” 

You move down his body, kissing your way down until you can slink in between his knees onto the floor. You waste no time in hooking your fingers under his sweatpants, your mouth watering as you follow his happy trail downwards as it gets more exposed. You tug them completely off with his underwear, watching his thick cock bounce with a satisfying bob and a drool of pre-cum from the flushed head peaking from foreskin. 

Crypto covers his face with his hands to hide his burning red flush that edges down to his chest when you hum at him approvingly. But, judging by how his cock throbs, you already know that as he likes being watched and praised without words. 

You take your sweet time kissing up his length and down his balls, letting your tongue run over the sensitive skin. Your hand holds the base, stroking downwards to pull back his foreskin, mouthing at the flushed head and letting your tongue slide against the slit in teasing dips until a whimper falls from his lips. 

You tease him like this for a good enough amount of time before you even take him into your mouth fully. Suckling and bobbing your head, your free hand holding his hip to squeeze to remind him to keep his hips down when he starts trying to hump upwards into your mouth. 

Anytime you feel how his cock jerks and you hear his breathing quicken; You stop. Pulling your mouth off to kiss at his hips and thighs instead. Squeezing on his legs soothingly and rubbing at his skin when Crypto whines and rolls his hips up with not a single word peeping from his lips. Even if now his arm is thrown over his forehead, able to see how he peeks open one eye to look down at you pleadingly. 

You smile up at him each time before you take him in again. Suckling, licking, your nails sliding down his thigh until your hand can cup his balls and lightly squeeze. And each time you feel him get close, you pull back. The same bite of pain of your nails on his skin, same edging, the same denial even as pre-cum spills from his cock and it mixes with your drool to connect you with a sliver that makes him near sob when he sees you. 

You know he liked it messy. Liked seeing the mess you could make. 

The mess you could make of him. 

You’re about to remind him that he needs to use his big boy words if he wants to get anywhere tonight. But, seems Crypto gets the memo when he starts pleading. 

“Let me cum inside you, please, please, please- please let me cum i-inside you, please, I’ll be good-”  His voice is breathy, a high whimper as his hips try to fuck up into the loose grip you have on his shaft. He just looks so pathetic for you right now. Just a teary, drooly, humpy mess. 

You like how desperate looks on him. 

“Mmmhhh, I dunno, baby,” You let your voice elongate your words, your breath fanning across his sensitive skin and causing his dick to jerk, lightly tapping your lower lip and making you smile. “You look awfully cute. Can’t you hold it a bit longer? C’mon, you can be my good boy and hold it, can’t you?” 

Each end of your questions is punctuated with a drag of your lips across his cock, letting him feel how you murmur across his reddened skin. 

Crypto sobs out again, his body jerking in sensitivity as both his hands come back up to hide his red face and teary eyes. His nod allows you to continue, continuing your teasing kisses and licks. Making sure to bite pain into his thighs to cause his mind to either associate the pain with pleasure or to back off his pleasure. Judging by the way he sobs out and twitches each time you scratch or bite him, you’re guessing it’s your prior guess. 

“Please, please, please-” Crypto starts to sob when you deny him again, his cock jerking heavily and spilling pre-cum on his lower abdomen. His hands have fallen to grip the couch as best as he can, his teary gaze looking down at you and his lips quivering with his shaky breaths. So cute. “Please, I-I cannot take it anymore, please, please let me cum in you, I want to cum in you-” 

You’ll give him credit. This is the most he’s ever spoken during sex, let alone been so clear in his needs and desires. Something you’ll praise him for later. For now, you smile up at him, wiping your mouth off on the back of your hand before standing to wriggle out of your lounge clothing.  

Crypto’s quick to help you, hooking fingers in your sweater to help you out of it. It’s fit with your laughter as you nearly fall on him, lots of giggling when his mouth presses a kiss to your abdomen when you get halfway stuck through your sweater and pants. “Tae Joon-” You laugh out his name when you feel him smile against your abdomen, “C’mon, lil help here?” 

Eventually you escape your clothing prison, able to set the mood again when your straddle his lap. You’re plenty wet enough, but you still take the time to tease him a bit more by reaching down to stretch yourself while hovering over his cock. You feel flustered as he watches you, sitting under you and looking up at you with such love in his eyes while you make soft sounds yourself. 

It takes a few tries to line up correctly, but soon you’re bouncing your hips on him with your fingers in his hair and your mouth on his neck. He always sounds so pretty the way he cries out, clinging to your hips at first before his arms wind around you to hug you to his trembling frame. You pepper kisses all over his face, cupping his cheeks adoringly as you rest your foreheads together. 

He cums rather quickly, clinging so hard to you as his hips frantically hump up against you. He ends up accidentally holding you still so he can thrust up into you, resulting in you clinging to him in turn with your lips parted and murmuring praise as he fucks you through his orgasm. He’s swearing in his mother tongue, something you can only catch bits and pieces of. 

When Crypto’s done cumming, one of his hands quickly goes down to between both your bodies to rub at your clit as you hump against his cock still lodged inside you. He finds your lips to capture when you whimper out his name when you begin to cum, your nails biting into his shoulders as he rubs you through it. 

By the time you’re both satisfied, you slump against his frame, burying your face into his neck as your sweaty bodies press together on the couch, still connected. 

When both of your breathing settles, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, nuzzling himself there as his hands slide up and down your sides. You smile softly, adjusting your hips a bit and laughing a bit when he grunts in this little oversensitive way. 

When you lift your head to meet his gaze, you smile a bit brighter, gently bumping your noses together. “Hey,” 

“Hey,” He murmurs back just as fondly. 

“You need a shower.”  

He smiles when he realizes you’re replaying your interaction from earlier that day, reaching up to brush your frazzled hair from your face. “Mmh.” 

“You need a shower with me?” 

“Mmh.” He repeats, moving to rest his cheek atop your head as you laugh at him when you feel his chest shake with a quiet laugh in turn. 

“Alright fine. Guess I’ll be getting a shower first and you’ll be left out here with your dick out and cold-” 

That gets him. Pushing you off him and to the couch with a yelp from you as you fall gracelessly on your side and gasp as he takes off towards the shower and you quickly following after him with a playful swat to his ass when you catch up. 

Yeah. You would say your guys’ relationship was domestic. 

[queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm]

Knock Knock. Who’s There? (Jasonette) (continuation of The Most Vibriant Color)

Orange. Orange was the color of pill bottles, the eyes of vampiric bats in the night, and the tint of the orange plastics that polluted the earth. Orange was the color of a shirt Jason Todd was trying to pack. The voices finally broke him into going to Paris and now he needed to pack. Jason had no idea how long he would be there, but he also had no plans of returning to Gotham anytime soon. Dick walked into the room, “Dickie boy, what’s up?”

The older adoptee stared at his brother, “Are you sure you want to leave? You just got back.”

Jason didn’t just want to go, he needed to leave. If the pit madness didn’t drive him insane, the constant way Bruce and Dick treated him like he was a bomb just waiting to explode would. They claimed they missed him, mourned him, wept oh so many tears, but in the end they had just replaced him. Jason would never be Dick; he knew it; Bruce knew it; hell, Dick himself said he would never be good enough.

The steel blue orbs bore into Jason’s making him shift uncomfortably, “Then it will feel like I never came back,” he laughed but Dick found no humor in his words, “Listen Dick, I’m not you. I’m going to be fine.”

Jason wasn’t fine, not right now, not in Gotham. He was suffocating. Loneliness was a silent killer, one worse then the Joker. Jason knew it would kill him all over again if he didn’t do anything to stop it. Dick didn’t understand, he was the golden child. Dick was the first, the better Robin, the most charming, respectful, and kind one of the Bat’s kids. He lived a good life in the circus with his family and then immediately be adopted by one of, if not, the richest men in the world. Dick didn’t grow up on the streets, he wasn’t treated like an outsider in his adopted family, he wasn’t toyed with, frayed, bruised, ripped, or mutilated like Jason. A stranger in his own body is what Jason was.

All of these feeling were internalized of course. What’s the point of talking about the emptiness that plagued him, when everyone was already moved on? Jason had no purpose anymore. Why would Bruce miss one of his thousand kids? Jason was just another passion project... right? Did he serve any real purpose to begin with? All of these thoughts stuck with Jason. No matter how much he wished they would just go away, they would stay ever fervently whirling like a tornado inside Jason’s psyche. The only way to escape them was to leave. They’d have to, if they didn’t Jason didn’t know what he’d do. This is his last hope to try and just be a kid again. A luxury Jason was never given, this is the time where Jason reclaims the innocence that was stolen from him.

He swore it. He meant it. He was going to live it.

After Dick had finally left the room, Jason finished packing. This was the final piece to the puzzle that was Jason’s future. Gotham would lose Jason Todd again, this time by choice. What good did his return do anyway. Gotham could live without Red Hood, she could live without another troubled kid, she could live with one of her kids living without her. Gotham couldn’t live with one of her babies dying again in front of her. Paris craved chaos and by Kawamii was Jason going to raise hell while he’s there. Gotham knew this, so she passed one of her favorite boys to Paris in hopes of his life being preserved. Paris welcomed him with open arms too. What about a baker’s daughter?



Orange. A color of insincerity, empty calories, a color without substance. Orange was a color that would haunt Marinette. Everywhere she turned an Ex-friend and a liar would be there trying to gain her attention. The liar spun beautiful tales of her exploits, but she also created terrors to ruin Marinette. The pathetic excuse of a reporter pestered her into helping her tabloid of a blog, “Come on! Get me an interview with Ladybug!” She would shout, “I have to know about what happened with Rena and Carapace!”

“For the last time, Alya, I’m not in anyway, shape, or form obligated to help you. I’ve made myself very clear in stating that we aren’t friends. You talk bad about me, try to ruin my commission website, and on top of all of that you expe- no, demand something of me?!?” Marinette was furious. The insolence Alya repeatedly shown to her angered her to new bounds, “You think you are in a position to be speaking to me at this moment? Alya, I’m tired of this routine you have taken accustomed to falling into. Just because you forgot your own actions, doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten nor forgiven you for. If you come by the bakery again, I’ll put a restraining order on you in school and outside. You have become a stalker, I don’t want anything todo with you.” 

Marinette had to take deep breaths and close her eyes to calm herself down. 1... 2... 3... repeat. 1... 2... 3... repeat until calm. She could not risk akumitization, it was not an option. Ladybug couldn’t be compromised. Emotions are a luxury that Marinette cannot be awarded. Alya on the other hand, she had no control and abused that.

Once Marinette had opened her eyes, she saw a purple little butterfly touch and be absorbed by Alya’s frames. The exchange between the supervillain and Alya was brief, he didn’t have to say much before the glow of power overtook the glasses sporting journalist. Marinette thought to herself, ‘I can never catch a break, can I?’

Marinette ran, commanding the people to evacuate, to the nearest locker to hide and change in. Tikki has taken no time to change and showcase her new look. Ladybug had outgrown the red and black, polka dotted, skin tight, spandex. She was much too mature for that now. Ladybug was layered in body armor, away with the pigtails that feigned innocence. Her hair was now loosely pulled back by two braids with the rest of her hair down, now her suit was a majority of black. Marinette’s mask’s colors had been inverted. Ladybug was a guardian of the order, a leader, a symbol, she needed to update her look.

She existed the locker, yo-yo in hand. Ladybug swung to higher ground. She had no information on the powers of this akuma, it was time to play everyone’s favorite: the waiting game. This also allowed for Char Noir to get here in time. In the beginning Chat was a little pushy and childish, but after 5 years of fighting he became jaded and more serious in his role. He got himself a girlfriend that didn’t work out but she was there, became a better friend, and more importantly a friend. Chat was tired, the only reason he was still fighting is because of Ladybug. His lady needed someone to balance her out, so until they can find his replacement they’re stuck.

After 5 minutes of waiting and observing, Chat had arrived, “What’s the status? What happened Bugsboo?”

“The akuma’s in her glasses. Alya, was told off by Marinette apparently and couldn’t handle it. And before you say something about Marinette instigating, Alya was harassing her about an interview with me. I will not give her an interview either. She doesn’t want to fact check, fine. I don’t want to give her an interview.”

Chat sighed. This whole situation was getting out of hand. He lost Marinette. Alya is on a warpath. Lila keeps harassing him. Maybe it was time to build his ark while the flood rages. He’s exhausted of playing middleman, of losing important people, he’s tired of fighting. After this he would beg Marinette to accept his apology, but if she didn’t want to he’d understand. This was going on for long enough.

The fight itself only took around 30 minutes. Once the cure was done, Alya awoke to see Ladybug staring her down. Alya didn’t seem to get that Ladybug was infact angry at her, “Ladybug! Can I get an interview?”

“I believe Marinette had told you I wouldn’t be giving you anymore interviews,” she said with venom, she hadn’t meant to but it was seeping out. “I saw the messages you and the rest of you class sent her. All of the hate, I know you tried to ruin her website. And for the last time, I do not know a Lia Rogatonie or whatever her name is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to leave. Bug Out!”

Alya was left stunned. Tears stained the cheeks of the “reporter” and she realized that she had been live-streaming the exchange. All of Alya’s followers had seen her be chewed out by the savior of Paris and Chat had only nodded. It wasn’t long after Ladybug left that Chat went in the opposite direction.

Marinette landed in an ally by the airport. She had to run home now that school was cancelled. Not actively paying attention to her surroundings, she had run into a large man. He was about 6’0 (182.88 cm) and all muscle. His jet black hair had a white streak going through it, he was devilishly handsome, and his eyes. Oh god, his eyes. They were clear blue, however, there was green infringing on them. It was a sickly green too. Marinette almost drooled at the sight of the Grecian god standing before her.

He had stumbled a bit but she had fell completely on her bottom. Marinette’s face was the same shade of her old suit design. Eventually the man had helped her up with an extended hand, “Are you okay?” He asked in rapid English.

If it wasn’t for all of the lessons Jagged and Penny had given her, she wouldn’t have understood a lick of anything he said, “Umm, I’m fine. T-Thank you,” she responded in accented English.

“You wouldn’t have the directions for Le Grand Paris would you,” he switched the language on her. “That’s where I’m staying, I got lost.”

“Oh, yes of course! I could help you get there, Monsieur...” she waited for him to fill the blanks.

“Jason,” He supplied, “Jason Todd.”

She outstretched her hand again, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said with her blindingly bright smile.

The sun was setting. A gorgeous orange glow was cast over the two as they walked towards Le Grand Paris. Each thought the other as etherial being and fell into comfortable conversation. This would be the start of a beautiful friendship and possibly romance.

A/N: This was one of my favorite things to write. Thank you to everyone who likes, comments, reblogs, and thank you for sending in the asks. They make my day like you wouldn’t believe. I never expected this many people would actually like the word vomit that comes from my mind. Also, special thanks to @/abrx2002 for the idea to make this series dealing with the entire rainbow! I was just going to do red, but now I’m doing the whole rainbow. If the series isnt done by purple, I’ll do more colors. Also if I didn’t tag you, it’s because I can only tag 50 people at a time. However, I’ll tag you in the comments!

Tag list: @abrx2002 @amayakans @mystery-5-5 @normal-piece-of-shit @st0rmy-w1th1n @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @g-arya @smolplantmum @rayray384 @rosa97 @drarryismylife101 @kris-pines04 @black-streak @storyteller-d @weird-pale-blonde-person @maribat-shenanigans @vivilakitty @mycupisbroken @zalladane @gingerdaile @18-fandoms-unite-08 @seraphichana @zebrabaker @northernbluetongue @jardimazul @ranger-gothamite @grimmhallow31 @finallyaniguana @persephonebutkore @rarity36 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @hell-or-high-waters @moonlightstar64 @raisuke06 @evil-cricket @starwindmaden @kuroko26 @primeemeraldheiress @ladysblackcat @senpaiweird @loveswifi @2sunchild2 @timetomakeanewwish @theyellowfeverexperience @iloontjeboontje @vgirl-10123 @vixen-uchiha @winter-gardenflower @yokizu @risingmoonyue @semaalcocer-blog

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (18)

Chapter 18: Altering It Further | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: Look it @berenilion another Vader chapter ;w;

Also tagging @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms @stellar-trinity @justtinfoley @peterwandaparker @calgasm @queen-destenie @ayamenimthiriel @calsponchoemporium​ @fallenjedii @cal-jestis​ @sweeetteaa​

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 – 14 – 15 – 16 | Previous: Part 17 | Next: Part 19 | Masterlist

18 of ?

A black, high pyramid tapering upwards marked the desolate, volcanic landfill that is Mustafar.

Jidné piloted the Scarab close to the transport shuttle’s tail, led by the Sixth Sister in her specialized TIE Fighter.

Jidné didn’t even realize that she’s held her breath even after getting through the atmosphere, the turbulence on her end was light, but the eeriness of the landscape captivated and frightened her at the same time—concentrating all her attention to the castle sitting by the edge of the black plateau. A single stream of glowing, red-hot lava resembling a waterfall accentuated the structure’s ominousness.

All three ships occupied the open hangar, albeit being a wide space. Jidné alights the Scarab and joins Cal’s side while he’s held by one Stormtrooper in the other.

Subtly using the Force, Jidné curled her fingers and willed the hool of Cal’s poncho to rise and cover his head. She was careful enough to make it go unnoticed by the Stormtrooper, but of course, it took Cal by surprise to feel his hood suddenly moving on its own. He turned his head to the only possible culprit—though she still didn’t look back to him, she couldn’t.

“The hot air here’s gonna make your head feel like it’s scorching,” Jidné mumbled through her cowl with the coil covering the bottom half of her face. She bobbed her head closer so her voice is still within the redhead’s earshot, making her more audible over the sound of the geysers spewing the said hot air.

Not once did she turn her head to face him as she spoke.

There was no response from him. She isn’t expecting one anyway. Understandably so, she immediately put herself in the mindset that Cal was furious with her. Though, he himself seems to contradict. His gentle surprise caused his eyes to remain on her, studying her feature and expression—the languidness on her face gave off the illusion that her laughter was a thing of the past, her dejected eyes slowly blinking and her head panning by the inch as she surveyed the castle and the landscape around it.

Cal, Jidné, and the rest of the Stormtroopers followed the Sixth Sister to the main door unprompted.

“Inform Lord Vader that we have the boy and that the bounty hunter is with us,” the Sixth Sister commanded the scout trooper manning the terminal.

“Copy!”

The scout trooper presses the button and spoke through the microphone head, relaying the exact words of the Sixth Sister. The door rumbled open seconds after the scout trooper concludes his announcement and they continued to follow.

The outside of the castle was one thing, but the inside was another story. Something about the interior made Cal and Jidné’s skins crawl—an alien feeling that they can’t describe, but somehow know of.

The Dark side of the Force.

The Sixth Sister has led them to the receiving chamber where Darth Vader meets those who wish to see him; on one side, there was a large rectangular slit on the wall facing the volcanic view outside, and in the other, was the door connecting the foyer and Darth Vader’s chamber.

All of them waited there. Even Jidné and Cal can feel the red Twi’lek tensing up.

The heavy creaking of the door caused everyone in the foyer to turn away from the window, smoke was spilling through once it went ajar, from a thin slit to a gradually gaping space until it revealed the tall figure, darker than the obsidian on which his fortress stands.

There mere sight of him shook the two young Jedi to their very cores. The monotonous breathing that filed the room has pierced its way to the hearts of everyone present and made their stomachs sink as if anchors had been tethered to them. The cool, poised façade of the Sixth Sister seemed to ebb, both Cal and Jidné sensed it, but the feeling’s mutual.

Darth Vader acknowledges the Inquisitor, Jidné—who he still believes to be a bounty hunter—and the prize in question, the Jedi boy Cal. He marched along the narrow bridge connecting the door and the foyer. As per custom, the Sixth Sister lowered herself to her knees as the dark lord approaches them. The closer he got, the more profuse the trembling became for the two young Jedi; only then did both of them truly have processed just how lumbering Vader was in size and the authority he imposed in his every step, in the slightest tilts of his helmet, and the blood-red glint of his mask’s eye sockets.

“My lord,” greets the Inquisitor.

“Rise,” he lowed rather disinterestedly. A slow sideways wave of his hand and the Twi’lek was quick to obey.

The Sixth Sister stepped aside to present the Jedi boy and the bounty hunter by his side. The Sith Lord stepped closer, Jidné’s elbows buckled closer to her sides while Cal’s already-clenched fists closed even tighter. As much as they wanted to avert their eyes to spare themselves from the terrifying sight of his mask, they couldn’t. In the end, they had to roll their eyes up in order to look at him in the eye, or at least through the pair of convex bumps that gleaned red when the light hits.

“Well done, Jidné,” Vader hummed.

Vader gestures at one of his personal bodyguards in that foyer—a Shadowtrooper: their armor was a glossy, jet black, perfectly blending in with the background whilst having a cloaking device that will mask their entire person. The Shadowtrooper approached one side of the room and what sounded like the latch of a trunk opening, he produced a storage canister—same as the one Jidné received for her upfront payment—he then activated a podium that erected from the floor at the touch of a button of his gauntlet for him to settle the container down. Performing a series of button patterns, he set off the lock to reveal that only a half filled the inside.

“That could only cover my fee, not the bounty price,” Jidné pointed out, maintaining character.

“Were you expecting a thicker stack? Or a second canister?”

“You don’t hear me complaining, m’lord,” Jidné blurted. “I was just stating the obvious.”

“Do not concern yourself over something that’s been considered done and covered. After all, you have accomplished what my two Inquisitors failed to do,”

She didn’t respond to the commendation, though Vader perceived her head hung low as she drew a heave of breath as a reaction. He then turns to the boy. The tension at Nur ran fresh in both of their minds—however, Vader was fueled by his recollection of the entire inconvenience that transpired in that stronghold.

Cal gets himself hauled forward to Vader, the Stormtrooper struggles to push the boy towards the large, lumbering figure that is the dark lord of the Sith.

For once, the dark lord has the opportunity to examine Cal without any lightsabers clashing angrily against one another. His blank, empty eyes stared right into the boy’s eyes—more alive than his could ever be—and Cal attempted to keep a brave face, despite repressing the shuddering that’s trying to break free from his body.

“Now, you will surrender the Holocron,”

In Cal’s mind, everything made better sense now. He turned to Jidné, and then to Vader. He managed a small smirk right in front of the dark lord.

“I don’t have it,” he muttered.

“Liar.”

Cal shakes his head whilst the smirk on his face grew.

“I really don’t,”

Vader’s head jerked to the girl, searching confirmation from her indifferent expression—he sensed that Jidné knew something as she continued to keep her head low and her eyes away.

“Then you’re hiding it somewhere,” insinuated the Sith lord. He looks at Jidné. “Tell me what he has done with the Holocron.”

Silence spoke on Jidné’s behalf. She rolled her eyes to Cal’s direction, avoiding Vader’s.

His short-lived patience is now spent. He hoisted his hand in level with Jidné’s neck, the air rumbled within the two Jedi’s radius, a heavy glom wrapped around them—Cal could feel its weight on him, but it was Jidné who had more of the receiving end.

She started to struggle in breathing, the gulps that she swallowed all lodged in the middle of her throat, the veins on her neck were pulsing as the muscles around it tightened. Jidné clutched her neck, hoping that rubbing it would make it go away—instead, she continued to gag, short breaths did not sate her lungs. Her eyes finally trailed up and found the root cause—Vader’s gloved hand is positioned into an open grapple directed in front of her. It didn’t take long for her to submit on her knees—in a moment, on one knee, and then the second in the next—her hand was still on her neck, clawing off a non-existent grasp asphyxiating her.

Darth Vader doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon… not until either of them talks.

“LET HER GO, SHE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!!!” Cal raised his voice against Vader, though that didn’t convince him and continued to strangle the girl.

Again, Cal took his voice to its peak, so much so that the words strained his chords, “THE HOLOCRON IS DESTROYED!!! I DESTROYED IT—NOW LET HER GO!!!”

The suffocating ripple of the Force coiled around her neck finally vanished into thin air. Jidné inhaled the deepest that her lungs could take—the biggest one she’s ever done in her entire life! She exhaled in coughs and fully collapses to the ground as she felt like her spine had turned into liquid. She breathed a few more time to reset her pattern before pulling herself back, little by little.

“Jidné…? Are you okay?”

It was a subtle nod that she did to reply to Cal. Her panicked heart still raced until she mentally willed it that she’s still alive and breathing.

“You…” Vader trailed off. “Destroyed it?”

“I’ve seen and remembered enough names when I opened that Holocron. If you kill me now, you will never get a single one of them!” Cal snarled.

Perhaps in a way to rub it in his face, Vader leaned closer to Cal until a mere inch of space divides the two of them.

Vader purred, proud of himself that he had outwitted the boy, “But I can get it out of you.”

“What are you going to do with him?” Jidné inquired, still trying to keep in character.

“That is not of your concern. You should concern yourself more with the second half of the bargain,”

Darth Vader promised the second payment to Jidné if she stays until Cal is brought to the torture chamber. The simple mention of that word made Cal’s heart beat twice at a time. He has only seen the machine when inactive in real life, he’s seen it at work but only in his Force vision of Trilla’s memory—he could think of a hundred ways how it would feel if it was he himself strapped to the machine.

The Shadowtrooper adjusting the canister an inch forward was supposedly a prompt for Jidné to take the money, but she didn’t want to take it. Blood money, she thought. Seconds later, Vader notices her hesitation.

“Is there something else, child?” Vader inquired.

“N-No… my lord,”

“Then take it,”

She clenched her fist to eradicate the trembling. His invitation for the girl to take the money was a trick challenge he’s imposed—should the Sith lord notice the fumble in her hands, his suspicions would immediately be proven true.

Eventually, Jidné’s fingers wrapped around the handle and pulled it away from the podium. She still could not will herself to look at Cal in the eye, presuming that she had truly betrayed him—if only she could freeze time, she would’ve shouted it until her voice reaches the very foundation of the building that she has fallen for him and that she doesn’t want to do this anymore.

Jidné slowly turns around, her back against everyone else, as she was dismissed by Vader himself so she can return to the hangar to hide away her bounty.

“I shall expect you in the torture chamber soon, Sheedra,”

That stopped Jidné in her tracks. Her grip around the handle tightened until her palms swelled. Ever so slightly, she bobbed her head to the side, one inch shy of showing her face over her shoulder.

“Understood.” She huskily replied, a dreary tone rasped as she spoke.

Eager to leave, she continued to walk away and succeeded in hiding the tears streaming down her cheeks as she takes every step.

[countessmorgasson]

Life of Luxury

Angsty scene featuring my newly created OC! I’m most likely going to use this scene in a longer fic, but I figured I could put a snippet out if anyone’s curious :)

(Disclaimer: Female MC, based on Lucio’s route)

A year after the devil’s defeat, plans for the next masquerade fall into place. Oliviette is temporarily living in the palace as a stand in for Nadia who has a matter to settle in Prakra before the celebration.

I can let my cloak hood down once I reach the palace. What a relief. As I enter through the main hall, I sneak a peek into the first room- the salon. Nobody is there. I think back to the meetings I had here with Nadia, the first countess. I truly hope she’ll be home soon. 

A few days ago, Nadia stopped by the shop- just like she had the first time I ever met her. She informed me that she had to rush back to her homeland to settle a... private matter. That’s all she would say, I remember.  Of course, she wouldn’t leave Vesuvia completely under Lucio’s control. She assured me of that, and despite the uncomfortable feeling I felt when she went on about his lack of responsibility... I had to agree. It was too soon, not just for him, but for Vesuvia.  Before I know it, I’ve been granted access to the palace for the rest of the week while Nadia returns to Prakra. 

Living at the palace does have it’s upside, of course- in many ways, but Vesuvia doesn’t feel quite the same without our honorable countess.

I catch myself wondering if she decided to leave Vesuvia now, that we’ve begun preparations for the masquerade. I couldn’t blame her if she had.  We all know how last year went...

I shake my head, freeing myself of those memories. It was over now. This year will be... a real celebration.

I enter the kitchen, watching one of the cooks stumble against the wall in shock. 

“Oh, um... Oliviette!” He bows, to my embarrassment. “What brings you to the kitchen? Are you hungry? We haven’t finished supper but we can surely fix you something-“

“Please,” I blush. I’m still not used to this treatment. “I only came to hand you this.” I reach into my bag and pull out a small container. I press it into the cook’s hand, watching as he inspects the jar curiously.

“It’s mint. I’d like to make mint chocolate cookies for the masquerade.”

“Absolutely, miss. We can-“

“Actually... I’d like to make them myself. At least one batch.”

The cook’s eyes widen once more.

“We can’t ask you to cook- and on the day of the masquerade, no less! You’re a friend of the palace- and-” I gently wave the thought away, smiling through my discomfort. I’m not used to being treated like... well, like Nadia, I suppose. 

“I look forward to it.”

I exit the kitchen, despite the cook’s confusion. I stroll down the hallway, hearing someone’s boots clack against the tile flooring.

Finally, a familiar face beams at me from across the hall.

“Julian?” I stroll quickly to catch up to him, watching his famous smile break out as I approach. I’m tempted to hug him, but it feels kind of weird to do that in these halls. We’re both here as professionals. I decide to settle for a beaming smile. “Long time no see! How was your study abroad?”

Dr. Julian Devorak was now the official physician for the court. Just recently he embarked on a trip to Romania for a lecture by the world renowned Franklin Deveere, master of the arts and sciences.

“Oliviette.” Julian bows with a dramatic swish of his black cape, and for a minute I forget where I am. I scoff.

“Come on. Don’t be so formal.”

“Formal? Don’t take yourself so seriously, dear. Look at yourself! You’re practically the Countess of Vesuvia! Even if it’s for a week. I heard about you helping the palace out once again.”

I feel my neck and ears begin to burn at the thought of being considered anything like a countess. It almost felt unfair to think it. “Tell me about your trip.” I wave off what he said. Julian starts out with a conflicted expression, but eventually he melts into a polite smile.

“I had an amazing time in Romania! Deveere and I are much alike, I’ll have you know. In fact, we became quite friendly. The things that man has seen... I may never tire of his stories.”

“I’m glad to hear it- and I’m so excited you’ll be here for the masquerade! I never realized how taxing it was to plan it.” I beam, but Julian settles into a forced smile by now.

“I forgot that it was happening this year.”

Not again. He must have seen my face fall.

“I mean, that’s sort of why I’m here,” I admit. 

Was it wrong of me, after everything that happened, to be excited about the masquerade? I never really got to attend one. I don’t think last year counts. If I had been to one before, I wouldn’t remember it. 

“I’m sorry, Oliviette,” Julian winces. “I just can’t help but feel... odd, at the thought of the masquerade being held again.”

I nod glumly, knowing I’m taking his concerns more personally than I should be. 

“I understand... I just... this time, it’ll be done right. It'll all go well. No arcana, no creepy spells... just music, food and the people of Vesuvia. I’m personally overseeing a lot of the main attractions. This is kind of... my project.”

Mine and Lucio’s that is, but I don’t think that’ll make it any better for him.

Julian nods with a smile, but I still feel hurt.

“You’re too much of a thespian to fake a smile like that.”

He apologies again.

“It’s okay. Just... tell me what you’d like to see at the masquerade, I’ll make it happen! Fire dancing? Exotic animals? Oh- we could have the barkeeps from the Rowdy Raven come and-“

“No.” Julian blushes feverishly. “Excuse me. I don’t mean to be brash, but... I would prefer not to.”

I feel my heart sink.

“Does that mean you’re not coming either?”

“Either?”

“I spoke to Asra earlier today. Based on our conversation, I doubt he’ll be stepping foot in the palace anytime soon.”

Julian thinks on what I’ve said for a moment, but the way he looks at me brings back that lead in my stomach. He’s choosing his words carefully- that usually means he’s going to hurt me.

“Oliviette... I don’t think you realize how painful this is for Asra.” He admits. I feel another blush on my cheeks, thinking about my old friend.  I’ve only been in the palace about a week, but my relationship with Asra... took a bit of a turn, a long time ago. 

Last year, in fact. 

“What? That’s not fair,” I huff.

“I...I’m just telling you what I think.”

“If anyone should be hurt, it’s me!” I can’t stop the words from coming out. “Asra was supposed to be my best friend-”

I cut myself off. Julian’s heard this a thousand times. Even so, he bows his head in shame. He doesn’t speak- he’s trying to remain diplomatic.

“You don’t agree with me?”

“Oliviette...” he sighs painfully, turning his mask over in his gloved hands. I didn’t see it before. It was new- sleek and black, with the sharp beak similar to a raven’s. It sends me back to my first time meeting Julian- his long, sharp mask nearly scaring the life out of me that night in the shop. Those memories feel like an entire different lifetime.

I sigh bitterly. My own friends watch their words so carefully around me these days. Don’t they trust me more than that?

“Why did you choose him?” Julian finally sighed.

Hearing that made me feel cold. I guess he wasn’t watching his words as carefully as I thought. 

“Julian...”

“You could have had anyone in Vesuvia. Asra, Portia... hell, even Nadia would have whisked you away to Prakra with her.” Julian’s cheeks began to grow red. “Me.” He says that quietly, and then takes a breath. By now I feel nauseated. We both know what he wants to really say.

You shouldn’t be with Lucio. How could you be? What do you see in him?

“I will be at the masquerade,” he finally confirms. “With all the excitement and drinking, the palace could use a physician on duty.”

I want to be mad, so badly. Instead, I feel my throat constrict with the painful threat of tears. My eyes burn, and I look directly in Julian’s eyes, focusing on his eyepatch for a split second. I understood that he was still upset with Lucio, and that he and Asra may never forgive him... but... they were my friends too. Shouldn’t they be happy that I’m happy? 

“I see.” My voice wavers, and he looks away in guilt. “Well... I guess you just returned. You must be tired. I have to speak with the landscapers, so I... will see you soon. Good night, Dr. Devorak.”

Julian flinches when I call him that, but I pass him quickly, suddenly wishing I was back at the shop.

[alkhale]

Lost and Found (Jason Todd x Reader) Ko-fi Request

JASON TODD x new fledging superhero female OC plssssss

I wanted to try to make this one as open as possible because I wanted to give more free reign over the imagination of the hero’s occupation as a hero, but hopefully these work for you! Always love writing for this beautiful, beautiful boy :’)

THE BACKGROUND:

- You have a very interesting choice for occupation as a so-called “hero”

- Within the scope of that title, many brave men and women under that profession might not exactly consider you to be on their… level, per say. Several very, very big names have become only a bit or vaguely aware of your new, bustling presence in Bludhaven, apparently making quick time and moving all the way to Star City or popping up in Metropolis in a single night.

- Villains don’t really know what to do with you. They most leave you alone, to be honest, because they have a feeling dealing with you is just a headache. The only villains that really have any beef with you are big time thieves, and Cat Woman is not happy about your new rising popularity but she’s still staying off your radars for now. (You’re working on her)

- Most heroes advise you to stay home, they’re the ones giving you the most trouble. Small run-ins have them instructing you to go ahead and give up this line of work and perhaps join a local law enforcement or help-group, they think it’s much better for you.

- You, however, are determined, and you’re rather set on doing what you feel is truly your happiest calling.

Jason Todd, currently donning the sleek, reinforced metal of Red Hood’s mask, gave the drug dealer one last good kick to the ribs, listening for the satisfying crack of a few that promised he wasn’t getting up or going anywhere anytime soon.

Goons littered the hallways, their blood spilling over across the walls. The acrid smell of cigars snubbed out by their own fluids flooded the deserted motel hallways. Car lights were punched out in the front of the parking lot of the cheap, off-the-highway motel they’d been hiding out at like a pack of rats. It hadn’t been hard for him to find them, to be honest, a much easier job tonight more than anything. Jason was just a bit pissed off so he let off more steam than usual.

Jason tapped one gun against the side of his mask, a light little thump thump as he set his hand on his hip, surveying his work. He’d dump the cash in a fucking river. It was blood money and he had better things to do then get his hands on it. He’d rather just break another ATM. Fuck, I’m still pissed off. I should get Thai tonight.

Normally, Jason had a very nice, selective choice of arsenal on his person. Guns he’d tuned up and had tricked out. Nice, pretty things that never failed him. Classic knives, the works, he liked having options. 

Jason let out an aggravated sigh, muffled through his mask. He scowled, kicking another limp body for emphasis and turning, wiping some blood off the corner of his jacket. 

His fucking problem was that one of his pretty, nice little guns was missing. Gone. Lost. He was one hundred-fucking-percent sure it was his last job in Bludhaven after tangling up with Dickie Bird and having to scram before he received any kind of dark tongue lashing from Bats or the Demon Spawn pulled some sick shit like pulling Alfred up on speaker again to discuss his misdemeanors. Like the little shit can talk. Jason had come scrounging back, searching through the dockyard left and right for his gun and found nothing. Nada. 

He really liked that gun too.

Have to put in an order for a new one. Jason rubbed the top of his mask, hooking his fingers to prepare taking it off. What a pain. Thai it is. I’m starving—

“Hi! Excuse me, but is this your gun?”

Jason stopped.

It took him a second to process what he was seeing. Only a second, because he sensed no blood thirst or killing intent—he still cocked his gun and pointed it at the newcomer without a single hesitation though because what the hell, right?—and he needed that good second because even quick footed, always adaptable, always moving Jason needed that fat second to understand what the fuck was in front of him.

Halfway through what appeared to be some kind of… portal? It was the weirdest fucking portal he’d ever seen and he’d seen some weird fucking portals. A bright yellow, piss yellow, stretching in a warped, warbling kind of flame in the middle of the air, as though cutting straight through dimensions. Jason could get a peek of something behind. A city? He sniffed the air. A dock?

In the middle of the portal, with one, combat booted foot out, was a slender leg covered in black tights. Black tights led to a black fitted top that was clad by a… a construction vest? A neon green construction vest. Over her face—he assumed her because of the body and hair, but who the hell was he to know, right?—was a weird mask of a man, like some kind of religious figure, covering her entire face. Her hair was pulled back into two buns on either side of her head.

In one bare hand, held out to him by this new person in the middle of a piss yellow portal, was his gun.

Jason stared.

“Sorry, I know, this must look strange, right?” you quickly apologized, stepping fully out of the portal. It disappeared and you now stood before him, mask and stupid construction vest and his gun. “Here! This should be yours unless…”

You trailed off, mask looking pointedly at the bodies scattered around them. “Oh, unless it’s one of these guys’s. Sorry about that.”

“What the fuck?” Jason said, rough through his mask. He still had the gun pointed at you.

You beamed behind your own. “I come in peace! Just trying to return this. Found it in the dock by… Fifth? It was glowing, so that meant someone was looking for it—”

“Hold on,” Jason waved his gun at you for emphasis. You nodded at it, waving his gun back. Jason almost laughed. Who the fuck is this clown? “I’ll ask you two questions. Just two. Depending how you answer, I’m going to shoot you, got it?”

“Oh,” you said, sounding a bit sullen. You glanced at your watch. “Will this take long? I have two more deliveries.”

“No,” Jason said. “Depending on how you answer.”

“...okay, shoot,” you said. You paused, quickly holding a hand when Jason raised his gun. “Sorry, I meant figuratively, please. Ask the questions.”

Jason cocked his masked head to the side. “Who the fuck are you. Why the fuck do you have my gun.”

“I feel like those weren’t phrased as questions—”

Jason shot at your feet. You yelped, jumping up. “Jeez! Is this what I get for doing a good deed? Saint Anthony! I’m Saint Anthony!”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “And I’m Jesus fucking Christ.”

Jason prepared to shoot your kneecap out and you squawked, tossing the gun his way. Jason quickly caught it, inspecting it for any damage before narrowing his eyes at you behind his mask. You wiped your hands off your pants like brushing off germs. 

“That’s my alias,” you said, tapping your mask, a pious man’s face printed over it. “Saint Anthony! You know, the patron saint of lost things? The guy you pray to when you lose shit?”

“Do I look like I pray?” Jason said, pointing his gun to the drug dealer whose brains he’d blasted out. You made a small noise, as though just noticing.

“Well, you never know. Met some strange folks who pray and still do some very questionable things—let’s not get hasty!” Jason put his gun down. “That’s my codename! Have to be careful with this hero business, you know. I felt like it fits because of my power.”

You pointed to his gun and it began to glow a soft piss yellow. Jason dropped it in disgust, pulling his other gun back up and getting ready to shoot you. “I can see what items are lost! If an item belongs to someone and they’re looking for it, it’ll glow and I can see it like that. Then I pick it up and it teleports me to whoever it belongs to.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Jason said. “You’re a human lost and found?”

“Yes! But much more effective,” you reached into a sack you had strapped to your back, opening it up for him to see where several more objects were glowing a piss yellow. “I decided I should put my talents to use, so I go around returning lost objects. Everybody loses something once in a while, you know? The other day I found this strange looking little USB and it turned out it belonged to Lex Luthor’s secretary and oh, boy, that was a sticky situation when Mr. Superman came and—”

Jason shot at your feet again. You jumped, clutching the sack protectively to your chest. “What the hell was that for?”

“I just felt like it,” Jason said. He tucked his gun back into his strap and picked up his now found weapon, inspecting it curiously. “Weird fucking power, sweetheart.”

You shrugged in a what-can-you-do manner.

“You said you were a hero?”

“Oh, more of a good samaritan,” you said, waving a hand. “I’ve just been working with the police lately on stolen goods. Sometimes burglars are real clumsy and drop items, you know? Apparently night vision goggles are very expensive so they’re always looking for those.”

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. Jason watched you in idle interest, having a bit of fun with this interaction. Been a while since he met anyone so fucking weird. He kind of liked it.

“Anthony, huh?”

“Yes!” you slung your sack back over your shoulder, sticking out a hand to him. “It’s very nice to meet you…?”

Jason tapped his gun against your palm in greeting. He tucked it back into its holster, giving you a long look behind his mask. You stopped, cocking your head at him. “What?”

“No, it’s just…” you rubbed the back of your neck. “Ah, nothing really. If we’re all squared away here, you mind if I take off? I’ve still got this pair of chain cutters and this funny looking stone to deliver.”

“You ever worry you’re delivering it to some weird place?” Jason said. “Or to someone who, I dunno, might kill you?”

“Oh, all the time,” you said cheerfully. “But usually I can take care of myself.” Jason quirked a brow behind his mask. “But thank you for your concern! I’ll be off then, Mr. Red. Thanks for your cooperation!”

You grabbed the funny shaped rock from the bag, a piss yellow portal appearing in front of you. Jason watched wordlessly as you stepped halfway through before turning back to him, raising a small hand in a little wave.

“Live a good life, Mr. Red!” you waved harder. “If you ever lose anything again, I’ll be sure to look out for it!”

Jason offered a lazy wave back, kicking a goon in the head who’d started to rouse.

You curled your fingers into your palm. The portal began to swallow you whole and you watched behind your mask as Jason turned, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You figured for this particular customer, perhaps it was better not to say he was glowing a very beautiful, very somber shade of yellow.

Looks like whoever lost you is looking very hard for you, Mr. Red.

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

what ifs; adam page [three]

Notes:

Part three of the fic. I think I had up to six written and like I said... I swear to God, an update is incoming, eventually. For now, if you missed the last part, don’t worry, I got you. [part two] 

Summary:

Their paths seemed destined to cross. This picks up the morning after their run ins at the supermarket and at the club Ivy’s dancing at at night. And yes, it is every bit as tense as you’d imagine..

Pairing:

Adam Hangman Page x OFC, Ivy Barlow

Warnings:

alcohol mentions, sexual tension, angst and mentions of stripping.

His head was pounding like a drum and the banging on his bedroom door wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. He shot up in bed, glaring as the hair tie that he’d apparently forgotten about and taken out of his hair during the night shot onto the floor.

“Get your ass up, son. We got work t’ do.”

He remembered then, he’d promised his dad that he’d go over to the Bar Low with him today, help out with some of the repairs and starting to prepare for the harvest. But his head was pounding so hard that he wanted nothing more than to go back on his word.

He knew his father well enough to know that wasn’t going to wash, so Adam got out of bed, wincing gingerly as he reached for the light switch and the light flooded the room. “I’m up, dad.” he finally managed to answer and his father peered in.

“You ain’t dressed yet?” the man shook his head in disbelief and Adam could only shrug and mumble something about the party the night before. His father shut the door to his bedroom and Adam grabbed for a gray tee shirt and a pair of old blue jeans, nearly hitting the floor when he clumsily tried to put both legs into one side of his pants. He stepped into the hallway, pulling the tee shirt down over his head as he emerged at the foot of the stairs and made his way into the kitchen.

He went straight for the coffee pot and poured himself a cup of strong black coffee and then he grabbed a plate, heaping it full of the breakfast his mom made and took a seat at the table.

His mom was the first one to mention her name. Not that it surprised Adam at all, his mom made it a point to try and mention Ivy Barlow at least two or three times during his visits home. Adam stabbed at his scrambled eggs and kept his eyes on his plate as everything they managed to say to one another replayed over and over again in his head. He grimaced and suddenly, his hangover wasn’t the only reason he wanted to back out of going over to the Bar Low and pitching in.

His mother cleared her throat. “Are you listenin to me?”

“Yeah, yeah.. I know.. I gotta repair the fence.”

“No, I said that maybe, while you’re there, you and Ivy could… Talk.” his mother was giving him that look and all he could do was tense up. She wasn’t gonna just let this go, he could feel it in his bones.

“Not happenin, momma.” Adam shot it down quickly and firmly as he met her gaze and shook his head.

“You’re just as stubborn as that man across the table. Son, you two used to be best friends. Ivy might need that right now. From what I understand, her life hasn’t been that great.”

“Ivy’s doin just fine.” Adam barely managed to avoid taking a tone, but his fingers tightened around his fork and he sighed. “Sorry. I’ll try, but I need ya to know I make no promises, Momma.”

“Tryin is better than lettin it lie. Tryin will make me happy.” his mom stopped behind him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, nodding to his plate. “Finish that sausage.”

“Yes ma’am.” Adam managed to chuckle and gave her a smile. Maybe if he let her think he intended to try, she’d back off him about it all. Somehow, he doubted it. He knew his mother too well. She hadn’t given up before now, she wasn’t going to give up just because he acted like he intended to try.

Adam stood and grabbed his plate, taking it to the sink. After grabbing his favorite jean jacket and a bottled water, he headed out the door, getting into his truck. And the entire half a minute  it took to get over to the Bar Low was mostly filled with him trying to figure out a way to keep his distance.

XXX

The door was being knocked on. Ivy raised a brow and eyed the hallway. “It’s only 9 am?”

“Mr. Page did say he’d swing by today. Must have slipped my mind to tell you.” Constance’s smirk was barely hidden and Ivy glared at her sister as Adam’s words from the night before and her own responses came rushing back to her.

The last thing she wanted or needed right now was him, skulking around here, that judgemental as hell look on his face. He didn’t understand and he wouldn’t. And as usual, he was too damn stubborn to even consider for a second that maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t willingly left with her mother back then.

“Well? Aren’t you gonna go answer the door?”

“Sure. Why not.” Ivy mumbled, her entire body tensing as she stood to go and do so. The door was being knocked on again and Ivy reached for the handle, bracing herself while also hoping to hell that it was the lesser stubborn of the Page males standing on the other side.

Naturally, luck was not on her side. Adam leaned in the door frame, eyeing her up. Ivy poked out her tongue and rolled her eyes, stepping aside so he could come in. “Shoulda known she was trickin me. C’mon.”

Her breath caught in her throat as he brushed against her in the space and Adam gave an abrupt cough, grumbling to himself under his breath. “Figured you’d be sleepin.”

“Yeah, well I’m not. Like I said. Got work to do today. And an interview for a teaching position in town.”

Adam eyed her, a brow raised and all Ivy did was shrug and turn to walk towards the stairs, stopping to turn back and glance at him. “What?”

“Ain’t that kind of… a contradiction? Given what you do at night?” Adam didn’t mean to say it, but just the way she was acting, everything they never got to say, the closure they never got and on top of it all, his bitching hangover were all combining to make him irritable.

Ivy’s eyes gave away that his words hit a nerve and he felt like an asshole. However, rather than apologize, Adam just shrugged.

“Don’t see how it’s anybody’s business.”

“Does your sister know? Your daddy?” Adam questioned, not even sure why he was pushing it, or why he even let it bother him so fucking bad beyond the overwhelming jealousy he felt the night before upon discovery and still felt now, hours after the fact. But he pushed.

Ivy glanced towards the dining room across the hall and then at Adam, biting her lip. “No, but it don’t mean I wouldn’t tell ‘em if I didn’t have to. Why? Gonna snitch on me, Mr. Page?”

Adam shook his head and shrugged again, offering up the most casual and non caring “It ain’t my problem or my place. Like you said… Your decisions are nothin to me, hon.” as he smirked and walked across the hall, into the dining room.

Constance eyed Adam and then glanced at her sister’s retreating back. As usual, both of them were going to be stubborn. Nevermind the fact that they were finally getting a chance and could finally at least get closure. Nevermind that any idiot could clearly see that… both of them still felt something.

She laughed to herself and shook her head, fixing her gaze on Adam again to address him. “Your daddy and that hand of his are already out in the north pasture. Ivy got half the fence real bright and early this mornin. Apparently, wherever she went last night put ‘er in a mood so she was out there before the sun was even up this mornin, workin on fixin the fence.”

Adam nodded and then asked quietly, “Any word on your dad?”

“He’s in recovery now. They’re sayin he has a few more days til he’s out, then they want him on rest for a while. And before you ask, Adam, no.. No, he ain’t the least bit happy about it.”

Adam chuckled and nodded. “Didn’t think he would be, I swear both him and my dad are gonna drop out in those fields. It’s all they know.”

“Hey Adam?” Constance stopped him as he started to walk out the door of their kitchen and onto the back porch.

“Yeah?”

“You do know there’s pride and then there’s foolish pride, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard it before. What are you referring to?”

Constance nodded her head towards the stairs and smirked. “You know good and well what I’m referring to, Adam. There’s more to everything that happened back then than you realize.. Maybe if you two talked.”

Adam chuckled, shrugging. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Don’t keep it in mind, do it ya stubborn lug.” Constance grinned as she turned back to the dish rack.

XXX

“Oh come on! You can go out there and take him food.”

“Nope, no. I can’t. Gotta go to town.” Constance insisted, shoving the basket of fried chicken towards her sister. Ivy bit her lip and eyed Constance, giving her a dirty look. “You know he’s got his mind all made up about me and why I left. Kinda like you guys did, apparently.”

“And I just think if you two talked then maybe…” Constance trailed off and Ivy took the basket begrudgingly, sitting it on the counter by the door to pull on a jacket. Constance smirked and popped her sister on the shoulder as if to encourage her. “Get out there. You can do it. All you have to do is take him food.”

“Yeah.” Ivy took a deep breath, giving an uncertain look towards the door. She could see him out in the barn, her dad’s old welding mask over his face, sparks flying from the welder. Apparently, he’d taken it upon himself to look at the second tractor and that lead to him trying to weld a brush guard back on properly.

Everyone else had already gone back to his father’s farm, Ivy honestly figured that given their run in the night before, he’d do the same. After all, Ivy found herself thinking as she stepped out into the chilly evening air, he’s made up his mind about everything, so why stick around if he knows he’ll have to deal with me?

It was a thought that had her baffled all the way out to the barn. She stood in the doorway, watching him and biting her lip. Apparently, he’d put down the welder and shed his shirt and now he had the hood raised on the tractor, and her dad’s old wrench set sitting on the worktable beside him. She gulped at the sight, the faint traces of grit and grime covering his hands and arms and chest.

Ivy cleared her throat and stepped in and Adam realized he wasn’t alone, raising his head too quick and promptly smacking it on the raised hood, swearing about it.

Ivy raised the basket. “I… It’s late and I thought you were probably hungry. Don’t worry, I didn’t make it.”

Adam wandered over, hand on top of his head, eyeing the basket and then her. “Pretty sure you didn’t, hon. Fire department didn’t get called down.”

“Oh fuck you, Adam. I burned grilled cheese one time.” she was laughing softly before she even realized it and so was he. But almost as quickly as they both laughed at the memory, they fell silent and backed away, because somehow, they’d migrated just a little closer. Ivy sighed and shook her head.

Adam took the basket and inhaled deep, sitting the basket down to take a piece of chicken out. Before he could even really get a thank you out, Ivy was gone, practically bolting for the house. Adam leaned back against the John Deere and let out a long sigh, shaking his head in frustration. He took a bite of the chicken and chased it with the beer also stuck down in the basket, wiping the sweat from his brow with his tee shirt before discarding it.

The sun was starting to go down. There wasn’t much else to do on the Bar Low today and he’d met his quota of running into Ivy at every turn.

… Now if only I could just get her out of my fuckin mind, that’d be great… the thought crossed his mind as he made his way around to the front of the house where he’d parked his truck in the driveway earlier. As he started the truck, he happened to look up at the second story window into her room.

Just in time to see her curtain swing closed.

[joygaytrash]

Leap of Faith(Spiderverse AU)

Word Count: 1542

Notes: Holy hell, I pumped out two pieces of writing in two days, go me. Anyways, another thing I did for @ask-spiderverse-virgil and @sugarglider9603 Spiderverse AU because I would actually die for it. Angst is coming soon, trust me :)

If you told Emile Picani that he would get bit by a radioactive spider and be part of a spider themed superhero group, he would just laughed and say "I wish". If you told Emile Picani that he was going to jump from one of the tallest buildings in the city in order to prove himself to no one but himself, he would just change the topic of conversation.

Now here he was, standing on the roof of the third tallest buildings in New York City,  in costume and thinking of what led him to being on top that building. First, it was the recent argument with his father about Emile's recent changes to the paper, none of which he regrets. Second was the verbal fight he had with Logan earlier that same day and he could remember every word of it.

"What makes you think I'm not ready for this, Logan? I can handle the responsibly and the pressure of it," Emile said, glaring at Logan.

"You want to know what makes me think you aren't ready for this? You let your emotions get in the way," Logan explained. Emile only rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "So you're saying I'm too emotional then, huh? Well, I'm sorry for experiencing emotions like an actual human being," Emile stated, causing Logan to face his direction with a look in his eyes that one could not explain.

"I do experience emotions, Emile. For example, I apologize for having to do this," Logan commented. Emile was about to ask what the hell Logan meant until the question was answered when he was pinned against his bedroom wall by webbing. He struggled to break free, glaring at the older teen once more with daggers in his eyes. "What are you doing, Logan?! Let me go!" Emile shouted, feeling tears form in his eyes.

"I would love to but this is for your well being, Emile. I will come back and free you once I'm done doing my patrol shift," Logan replied before covering Emile's mouth with more webbing. Emile screamed behind the webbing, his protests muffled by the sticky string as the tears trickled down his cheeks. Logan said nothing after that as he left Emile's room through his window and down the fire escape, leaving Emile stuck against the wall and his emotions out of control.

Emile took a deep breath, the same energy that caused him to somehow bust out of the webbing hours prior filling his veins once more. The third and final thing that led Emile to be on top of the building was his mother, the only family member in his live that actually gave a damn or two about him.

"He just doesn't understand that Rainbow Weaver isn't a bad guy, Mom! I mean, I get that it's his job to write reports but he's lying to the people of this city!" Emile ranted, pacing the living room. His mother sighed, rising from her spot on the couch and stopped her son mid-paced.

"Em, you know why your father does that?" She asked, her voice soft. Emile shook his head, tapping his foot on the ground at a quick pace. "He says those things because he's too closed minded, unlike you and I, Em. He doesn't see Rainbow Weaver and his kids how you and I see him. Your dad sees them as a group of troublemakers," His mother explained.

"But they're not and I don't see why he gets mad when I change his reports. I'm doing what's right,"

"I know that, Em and you know what? That makes you, well, you. You've always had this spark in you that steered you in the right direction, making you better than your father,"

Emile smiled slightly, giving his mother a hug. "Thanks Mom, I needed to hear that," He said as his mother hugged them back.

"Anytime, hun. I'll always be here to talk if you need it, okay?" She suggested.

"Okay,"

"You waiting for an audience, Picani?" Joan's voiced asked through an earpiece.

"Maybe," Emile responded, pulling his mask over his face. Joan was one of the many minor(good) reasons Emile was up there. They were the one who designed Emile's suit and taught him the tricks of the web shooters and the other various gadgets in less than an hour.

Emile walked down the street at a quick pace with his hood over his head, concealing his identity from no one in particular. It didn't take him long to get where he needed. Emile hopped the fence of Thomas' townhouse and walked through the backyard to the shed. He reached over the open the door but it opened by itself, revealing the elevator, which Emile wasted no time stepping into. The door of the shed closed and the elevator went down before the door opened once more when the elevator got to the secret basement.

"Took you long enough, kid," A voice commented before a wheely chair came into view. In that chair sat one of Thomas' friends, Joan, with a cup of coffee in hand. "Then again, you took the least amount of time accepting this responsibly than the others," Joan added, standing up.

"Well, what are we waiting for then? We got a city that needs one more hero," Emile responded, his usual big smile on his face. A small smile became visible on Joan's face as the two went off to design Emile's costume.

Emile hopped up onto the ledge of the building, looking down at the city below. "Whoa," He mumbled, amazed by the colorful lights that flooded the city.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Joan asked, looking up at the building Emile was on from a window at a coffee shop across the street. Emile let out a 'mhm', his eyes scanning the crowd that had gathered. People had their phones out, either recording or taking pictures. A news van pulled up and the news lady for the 8 o'clock news came out, followed by a cameraman.

"You ready, kid?" Joan questioned, stepping out of the coffee shop and joining the crowd.

"Ready as I can be," Emile answered.

Time seemed to go slow after Emile took one more deep breath. It seemed to go even slower not even a second after Emile did a dive off the building. He watched the bright colored lights fly past him as Emile had a small struggle gaining some sort of balance.

While Emile fell from the building, he swore he could hear Thomas' voice in his head.

"How do I know when I'm ready for this responsibly, Thomas?" Emile asked as Thomas walked into the living room with two cups of tea.

"You don't. It's a leap of faith," Thomas replied, handing Emile one of the cups of tea. Emile takes it before taking a drink and setting it on the coffee table. "What do you mean 'It's a leap of faith'? Like an actual leap or an emotional leap?" Emile asked again.

"Either, really. I took both an actual leap and an emotional one. Virgil took an emotional one and so did Patton. Both Logan and Roman took actual leaps. It really depends on the person, you know?" Thomas explained before taking a drink of his tea.

"Yeah," Emile said, trying to figure out what the hell Thomas actually meant.

Emile saw the ground edge closer before he turned around and shot web from both hands, the ends of it flying to the top of the building. "Come on, come on," Emile mumbled to himself, trying not to sound scared. The ends of the webbing attached themselves to the edge of the building and Emile pulled himself up.

"Whooa!" Emile exclaimed, swinging himself off the building. He swung towards a different building, doing a backflip off the roof before jumping onto the side. He shot another string of web at a different building, running along side the building, laughing as if he had no care in the world.

He shot one last string of web and swung himself onto one more building before running across the roof and jumping from that roof to the roof across the street. Emile stopped himself on the edge of the roof, panting hard. He took his mask off and found himself laughing once again, leaning on the edge.

"What's so funny?" Joan questioned, the confusion clearly obvious in their voice.

"Sweet Neptune that was the greatest thing I've ever done! The feeling of the wind in my hair, the adrenaline pumping through my veins! I feel like I can do anything now!" Emile exclaimed. He could hear Joan laugh slightly on the other end of the earpiece.

"Slow down, kid. You haven't even gotten into a fight yet," Joan explained.

"True," Emile said, pushing himself away from the edge, "Hey, listen, I'm going to head back to Thomas' place because they're all probably back from patrol by now," Emile added, pulling his mask back over his face and walked back over to the edge of the building.

"Deal. Meet you there," Joan responded. Emile didn't say anything after that, all he did was backflip off the building and swing himself back to Thomas' townhouse.

[ivedonestranger]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Titans (Animated Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson/Raven Characters: Robin, Raven, Koriand'r (DCU) Additional Tags: Kissing, Surprise Kissing, Confused Robin, Short One Shot, Rob Rae week 2019 Series: Part 3 of RobRae Week 2019 Summary:

It was a random occurrence in the elevator but was it meant to be more? Day 2 "Kissing" for RobRae Week 2019

Read it on your favorite Fanfic site or here under the cut! 

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13255397/1/A-Kiss-in-Passing AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18391892

The elevator was slow, it had to be. For Robin, it had felt like an hour waiting for it to descend from the common room floor all the way to the second where he was waiting, arms filled with a box of files he needed for the case Jump City PD asked him to look into. It was not often that the local police wanted them involved preferring humans handle human matters and metas handling other metas. In actuality, it was safer all around. In one way, humans were not risking their life while a meta was not being faced with an obscene amount of force because the police were not sure what to do.

Finally, the elevator dinged and slid open. For a second, he froze not expecting to see his friend Raven in the elevator. She stood there with her hood back and book in hand. Her eyes darted up for a moment to see who it was and went right back to reading. One thing was sure, being roommates for as long as they had been, the whole small talk had died away to nonverbal cues each other could read.

"Heading to the common room?" Robin asked not at the right angle to see the buttons.

"Mhmm," was the only answer he got in return. The elevator doors slid shut, and it began to slowly crawl towards the third to the top floor of the tower where they spent most of their time living. For a few seconds, nothing changed.

Robin was standing in a way that he had a chance to study the young woman who shared the elevator with him. It was not often that she was not hooded or uncovered. The cape had been thrown back to hang down her back, so the dark leotard she wore was visible. Robin's eyes studied the lines of her nose and cheeks, the amethyst eyes that moved slowly across the page and the full lips that were deceptively thin. He chuckled inwardly to himself that they looked actually quite kissable. Not that he had any thought of girls as of late, but Raven had an allure of mystery, and that was tantalizing in itself. He finished taking in her curvy but athletic figure and let his mind rest on those lips for a little while longer.

When Raven clapped the book shut, Robin jumped not expecting such a quick movement. She tucked it under one arm and turned on him. If he had not been leaning on the wall with the box in arm, he would have been able to evade her hand that snaked back around his head holding on to the back of his neck. Before any other thought could cross his mind, his entire body went rigid as he felt something warm and wet press up against his mouth. Robin felt the movement of Raven's lips against his seemed to send chills of excitement and fear through his entire body, Adrenalin pumped into him for no reason as the smell of her skin, the aloe lotion, and the scent of chamomile wafted into his nose.

Robin's heart felt as if it was going to explode when she pulled away. There was a stray twinkle in her eyes, but she immediately opened the book and had gone back to reading as if nothing had happened. The door dinged open, and she walked out towards her room, and Robin watched her go and then decided to carry the boxes a bit lower, so nobody else saw how exciting things had gotten in that small elevator.

It had been two weeks since Raven ambushed him in the elevator and he could not get the thought of those lips out of his mind. Anytime Robin made eye contact with her, they invariably dropped to her mouth. She never spoke of the kiss nor did Robin feeling like there was an unwritten rule in place. They fought, they healed, and they ate dinner together like the team they were and known were the wiser.

Finally, Robin had decided it was either some sort of experiment or Raven was just trying something new. She had been experimenting with different sensations and feelings since her father's defeat, and maybe the sorceress felt more comfortable experimenting on him since he was a fellow teammate and with an ironclad moral code. If that were true, Robin would not be against more experimentation if she was up to it.

It was late evening when Robin chose to throw down the binder he had been reading. The police files surrounding the jewelry store robberies were almost identical. It was not the actions of a meta, but police were stumped and wanted a profile. Robin had done them before, and so it was something he was known for. The notes on the profile lay strewn about only a quarter done. He needed more coffee. Robin was wearing his pajamas already and still had his mask. It was paranoia more than actually required to keep his identity a secret from his team. When you were raised and trained by the bat, you never took any chance unless you had to. So far, the group mentioned nothing, and he continued to wear it around people.

Striding through the halls towards the common room's kitchen, he passed the bedrooms of his compatriots. Raven's room was silent, but he could make out Beast Boy and Cyborg snoring up a storm. The Boy Wonder stopped a Starfire's door for a second alarmed that it was half open. He saw the Tamaranian princess laid out on her round bed, simple pink pajama-clad form half fallen off. It took him a second to see Silky, the strange mutated creature trying to crawl out but blocking the door from closing. He nudged the beast back into her room, and it growled in irritation of being foiled.

With the creature secured, Robin finally found his way to the coffee pot. Cleaning out grounds and pouring in triple the recommended amount of fresh coffee, he got the pot started. It was only a matter of minutes before the smell wafted around him. That was when he felt the arms snake under his and lock in place. He instinctively wanted to spin on his attacker, but the gray skin told him who exactly it was.

He turned himself in Raven's hold and came face to face with the sorceress. Robin's heart began to beat faster as the male side of his brain realized she stood there in a faded T-shirt and a pair of black panties. Oh, god those legs seemed to run forever.

"Uh...you need some coffee, Raven?" Robin asked trying his best to sound normal and praying to any god that would listen his body didn't realize the Azerathian was half naked.

She closed with him slowly and tilted her head up at him expectantly.

"Ummm,"

"You've been broadcasting all week how much you liked that kiss," Raven finally said. Her melodic lilt reaching his ears. Now, he had butterflies in his stomach and still did not move.

Raven cocked her head to the side in what could only have been a sarcastic thought. "Are you going to kiss me or what?"

Robin leaned down tentatively and placed his lips against hers. Immediately she closed the little gap that was left and pressed her warm body up against his. Her mouth enveloping his own in a kiss that was pronouncedly erotic. Her tongue explored his mouth while he instinctively returned the favor. Robin's breath became erratic as his body reacted to the gorgeous woman pressed up against him. His fevered brain realized she wore no bra under her t-shirt and that only two pieces of clothing separated her from being completely nude.

Raven broke away, and a growl of frustration escaped him before he could check himself. Her arms were still wrapped around his wait, but her face had taken no a sarcastic smirk, the girl's eyes twinkling.

"Got a comfortable grip there, Robin?"

Robin frowned trying to figure out in the mush that was once his brain what the girl was talking about. It was when she shifted her weight that he realized that in his haze of their passionate kiss, his hands had found their way down, slipped under the fabric and gotten a good hold of her ass.

"I AM SO SORRY!" Robin sputtered as he let go as fast as he could and tried to find a place to put his hands that were at least a million miles away from her body. "I am so so sorry! I didn't' mean to get into your personal space!"

"I didn't say that I minded, Robin," she breathed softly, her face still close to his.

She tugged on his hips away from the forgotten pot of coffee. "Wanna go back to my room?"

It was like a bucket of cold water that drenched him at the words. Robin broke out into a sweat. The thought of climbing into bed with Raven was one of the worst temptations he had ever faced. Her eyes were dark and mysterious, beckoning to a night that he would not soon forget. Robin let out a breath he did not know he was holding and gently extricated himself from her.

"Raven,"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to say this in a way that will insult you. I understand and appreciate how vulnerable you are making yourself but I...I can't go back to your room. It's wrong."

"Wrong?" Raven asked her eyebrows scrunching down. "I'm a grown ass adult, Robin. I can sleep with anyone I want."

"No, it's the way you're behaving. You have come out of nowhere, I can't...I can't take advantage of my best friend in case something is affecting or influencing you."

"You think I'm possessed or something?"

"Raven," Robin pleaded. "I can't risk hurting you. I love you too much to let that happen."

Silence reigned in the room as Robin realized he used the L word and it had just come out. He had not recognized he had feelings for Raven until she was offering herself. Was she possessed? Was it that she was actually just looking for company for the night? Either way, he could not risk hurting the beautiful, amazing woman who stood in front of him.

Raven hung her head, and the leader of the Teen Titans braced himself for the verbal or physical assault that may come. Her head popped back up, and to his relief, she looked like her usual self. Raven, herself, let out a breath. She only said one thing.

"He passed."

There was a squeal from the hallway that was out of view, and a blur of red hair came flying out shrieking like a happy banshee. Starfire hovered there in her own PJs, her eyes lit up with excitement.

"That is SOO WONDERFUL, friend Raven!"

"What the hell is going on?" Robin asked, frustration and anger beginning to seep into his voice. His face flushed with hot embarrassment but Raven closed the distance again and took his hand.

"I...I had to understand you, Robin."

"Understand me?"

"We've been through a lot. Slade, my father, and since I've been free, I've been experimenting with my emotions. I trust you as a leader, Robin, but...I've been wanting to have a closer relationship but didn't know how you would actually be."

"We've been living together for how many years?" Robin asked angrily. "You know me!"

"Do I really? I don't even know your real name," Raven scolded gently. "I wanted to know the true depth of your character when you were presented with a choice. I wanted to know how you would be when you were just with me in a non-professional environment."

"Why?" Robin finally asked sitting down at the kitchen table, his emotions expended.

"I...I was hoping you'd be willing to go out on a date," Raven asked sitting down beside him. "I completely understand if you don't want after tonight, but I had to be sure you were not going to take advantage of my new emotional state. I just had to be sure."

"And Starfire? She there to protect you in case I decided to take advantage of you?" Robin asked gesturing to the Tamaranian who had remained uncharacteristically quiet. She had her fists in a ball and holding them to her chest.

"Actually, she was there in case I tried to take advantage of you," Raven grinned, showing the smile that he had fallen in love with. "I am half demon. Who knows what it might have done if it had a chance to get you into bed."

"Oh."

Silence reigned the room as Robin tried to think, but the more ragged gasps coming from Starfire finally made him turn to look at her. Her skin had become paler, and she seemed to be about to fall to pieces.

"I don't think Star can take the suspense, " Raven chuckled. "Robin, could we go out on a date?"

Robin broke into a smile and reach across the table to take his friend's hand. "Of course, I kinda already admitted I loved you...you know in a very strong friendship way of a man who's gone to hell to save his best friend."

"Sure," Raven answered with no belief in her voice.

Starfire exploded in a shrill squeal of delight and wrapped her powerful arms around them shoving them both against her.

"My bestest friends of the worlds are now lovers!"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Robin tried to cry out. "Wrong word, Star. We're dating, not lovers."

"There is a difference?"

"Quite," Raven laughed. "I'll explain it to you on the way back to our rooms. Have a good night, Robin. I'll see you in the morning."

"Maybe."

"You do know there were easier ways of finding out your answer," Robin volunteered thinking about the cup of coffee for the first time since starting the pot.

The kiss she placed on his mouth was the sweetest kiss he had ever received. There was a sparkle in her eye, and a gentleness he did not know the half-demon sorceress of Azerath was capable of. Robin sat there until the sounds of their talking had faded. He finally decided what he was.

Tonight, Robin was the luckiest man in Jump City.

[jbuffyangel]

The Light Bulb Moment: Arrow 7x05 Review (The Demon)

Oliver Queen has a light bulb moment that’s been seven years in the making. 

Team Felicity (yes that’s the name) has one as well, which means we are that much closer to being done with the prison arc!

Let’s dig in...

Oliver Queen

We finally find out who The Demon is and I gotta say I was legitimately surprised. However, as soon as I found out it was Talia Al Ghul I thought

It had to be someone related to the League of Assassins and Talia would consider herself The Demon since Ra’s Al Ghul is dead. It’s not like Talia and Nyssa are besties. The amount of hoops Oliver had to jump through to get to The Demon also fits perfectly with Talia Al Ghul, as he notes.

The real question is how Talia ended up in Slabside and it seems we have Batwoman to thank. Nice shout out to Gotham and a not so subtle reference to the rapidly approaching crossover. 

Talia survived Lian Yu, but it was Diaz’s super drug that healed her. Not unlike how it temporarily healed Diggle’s injury.  Excellent tie in writers. 

Talia is beholden to Diaz, but unfortunately she has no idea where he is. UGH. 

It’s a little surprising Talia believes Oliver will help her escape. Listen girlfriend, you sided with Adrian Chase and his baby Mama ended up dead. 

However, Talia (rightly) points out Oliver murdered her father. She’s not exactly an Oliver Queen fan. So, whatever Dr. Parker is doing to the prisoners is making Talia pretty desperate.

Oliver: You stood on the same side as Adrian Chase and my son lost his mother. So now I’m here trying to save what’s left of my family because I am stuck in a cycle of violence and I have been stuck there since the moment you told what to do with my father’s list.

(Not gonna lie, I was a little verklempt when Oliver referred to Samantha as his family. Olicity and Samantha would have killed it at co-parenting.)

It seems like Oliver has bought into Dr. Parker’s brain bullshit, but he’s just playing along. He doesn’t really believe he’s been stuck in a cycle of violence. I mean, he has but not in a bad way or at least not entirely. I also argue with his conclusion the cycle began when he met Talia. Oliver was thrown into violence the second he stepped onto the raft. 

Talia didn’t create “the monster.” She just gave Oliver direction on how to use it.

There are a couple reasons why Oliver is pretending to be brain washed. It is possible he believes he’s being watched and doesn’t want to tip off Dr. Parker. Also, he met “The Demon” and she can’t help him with jack, so I don’t think he’s highly motivated to blow his cover for Talia. Finally, Oliver isn’t convinced Dr. Parker is doing anything horrible yet. He’s not buying what Dr. Parker is selling, but Oliver still believes he is trying to reform prisoners. What’s wrong with that?

A lot if you try to kill them. When Oliver sees the dead body of the inmate who attempted to murder him in the shower fight, things start to look more alarming on Level 2. Talia is surprised Oliver cares about a man who tried to kill him, but he argues whatever is happening behind the creepy and nondescript door isn’t right. Talia is the one who told Oliver to help others and fight for justice, which is all he’s trying to do now.

This is an extremely important development for Oliver. Helping criminals has never been the Green Arrow’s modus operandi. Since Green Arrow is the warmer and fuzzier version of The Hood and The Arrow, you can trust neither of those identities were invested in helping criminals either. In fact, the Green Arrow put most of the criminals in Slabside. Oliver never thought much about why someone became a criminal and he never thought of them again after they were locked up. Of course, the locked up criminals are the lucky ones. There are many who never made it to jail. They went straight to a graveyard.

Oliver’s policy on killing is fluid, ever evolving and occasionally flip flopping, much to my frustration most of the time. Let’s review:

Season 1: Killing

Season 2: Not killing (except for The Count)

Season 3: Not killing (except for attempting to kill Ra’s Al Ghul on the mountain because Felicity said it was okay and ultimately killing Ra’s Al Ghul in the season finale)

Season 4: Not killing (except for Damien Darhk because he killed Laurel)

Season 5: Killing (except for Adrian Chase because that would’ve proved his point)

Season 6: Not killing (he never caught Diaz so the jury is still out on how Oliver plans to deal with him, but I am thinking jail)

Looking at this it’s fair to say Oliver doesn’t have a hard and fast rule when it comes to killing. He operated from a kill or be killed perspective in Season 1 and Season 5. 

His “no killing” rule was set aside anytime the Big Bad was perceived as a large enough threat or for retribution in Season 3 and Season 4. 

The whole point of having a moral code is to stick to it. If Oliver is prepared to deep six his code whenever it’s inconvenient or difficult to hold to then it’s not really a code. Hence, the reason I’ve been coming down on him so hard about this for the last seven years.

I believe all human life has value and therefore we cannot kill another human being. Of course, war or acting in self defense is a different story, but my overall stance on killing is a big, fat NO. However, I’m not losing any sleep over any of the people Oliver Queen has killed. These villains are awful, they did horrific things, and deserved to get got. We can even make the argument the world is a better place without these people in it.

However, simply because someone deserves to die doesn’t mean he/she should. Oliver doesn’t get to be judge, jury, and executioner simply because he wears a mask. He may catch criminals outside of the law, but Oliver is not above the law. His killing is a strong argument against vigilantism and Oliver has been striving to be a better hero for several years now.

This isn’t entirely Oliver’s fault. For some reason, the writers are determined to box him into an either or choice. Either the criminal goes free or you kill him. I’ve been screaming, “WHAT ABOUT JAIL?” for the last seven years because guess what? We have a way of keeping society safe without killing the criminal. 

Is it a perfect system? Of course not, but no system is. Not allowing Oliver to avail himself of this option while Barry Allen gets to have his very own meta prison seems a little unfair.  

Yes, men like Ra’s Al Ghul and even Damien Darhk may too much to handle even for Slabside, but Oliver had his very own A.R.G.U.S. prison on Lian Yu that he never used, except for Slade Wilson and the Boomerang guy. 

Why? Because that’s Arrow and sometimes Arrow is dumb. They want to Oliver constantly deciding whether the villain lives or dies because it’s one way they mark his superhero evolution.

I was particularly hard on Oliver regarding Damien Darhk. Not because I believed Darhk deserves to live – he nuked an entire city. However, Oliver killed Darhk because he killed Laurel. Damien was unarmed and de-magicked. Oliver easily could have handed him over to the authorities. Instead, he drove an arrow through him on live television. Thus, creating many of the legal problems Oliver faced in Season 6 and Season 7.

And that’s the point. Killing doesn’t erase consequences. It creates them. Yes, maybe the villain escapes prison and more lives are lost. Maybe the justice system won’t work. Although are we really worried the legal system won’t punish perpetrators of mass genocide? No. Probably not.

Killing Ra’s Al Ghul ignited a rage in Talia. She sided with Adrian and played a role in Samantha’s death. If you want to know how Damien Darhk’s daughter turns out flip on Legends. It ain’t pretty. 

Retribution begets retribution. This is the lesson Adrian Chase taught Oliver and so he began to view killing a different way in Season 6. 

It’s why Oliver tried to catch Diaz and not kill him.

Oliver: These people are being treated like they are disposable. No one deserves that.

Oliver’s always evolving morality is taking a very important step. He is feeling empathy for the very murderers he helped locked away. Oliver believes these people deserve basic decency despite the horrible crimes they committed. He is beginning to see the criminals’ humanity.

Why is this important? Oliver’s “destiny” is to become the Green Arrow – a fully evolved superhero. Superheroes typically don’t kill. These characters, for the lack of a better word, are Christ like figures. Superheroes have integrity, determination, love, compassion, honesty and honor beyond the regular, everyday person. They are capable of things most people could never dream of doing. It’s why they inspire us. They challenge us to be better because they are better. It’s what makes them superheroes.

This is where Oliver is headed. His morality has to be beyond reproach. Superheroes don’t lie, cheat or kill. Oliver has worked very hard at fixing these problem areas in his life for the last ten years. Is he perfect? No, not even a superhero is perfect. He/She is pretty close though, which is hopefully where Oliver’s origin story ends.

Maybe you or I can’t feel empathy for a criminal, but Oliver Queen is called to be better than us. He will draw the line in the sand, so it’s important he doesn’t cross it. The Green Arrow will be the example Star City will look to, so his moral code better be unbreakable.

This means NO KILLING. Not even when the villain deserves it. Not even when Oliver has the moral high ground. Not even when Oliver deserves revenge. Not even when it may protect the city. 

There will always be unforeseen consequences to killing, but the real reason Oliver shouldn’t kill is because every life has value. Oliver can understand and even empathize with some of these people now that he is considered a “criminal” too and has spent so much time with them. It will be very difficult for Oliver to kill a villain when he can see their humanity. It doesn’t mean they deserve freedom, but they don’t automatically deserve death either. There’s a middle ground here. If Arrow will finally allow the Green Arrow to avail himself of the prison system, then he can be a better example to the city.

Talia isn’t impressed with Oliver’s new found empathy for criminals, because he did not show it to her father when it mattered. Yeah, well your father tried to poison an entire city cutie, but that’s just details.

Oliver: No because I back then I still allowed the monster that you unleashed to take over.

This is how we know Oliver is faking with Dr. Parker.  You can call it whatever you want – Oliver’s monster, darkness, demons, etc. The name doesn’t matter. Oliver has evolved beyond it. The rage he feels no longer controls him. He faced his “monster” in Season 5 and learned to control it in Season 6. He’s already dealt with all of these issues.

Oliver: Ra’s death was my fault. I couldn’t see past what he intended to do to my city, so I didn’t stop and think about his family, and for that, I am truly sorry.

I could argue Oliver deserves prison. Technically, he is a murderer and not all of his “kills” were done in self defense. 

He acknowledges there was another way with Ra’s Al Ghul, but he didn’t take it. Talia is one of those unforeseen consequences to that decision and Oliver is truly sorry for the pain he caused her.

If you believe Oliver deserves redemption for some of those calls then apologizing to who he hurt is an important part of the process. It’s no different than Bl*ck S*ren. Is an apology enough? No, but Oliver has also spent six months locked away from his wife and child. He’s been beaten, tortured, psychologically lobotomized, and almost killed. (Also, I raise my “Ra’s Al Ghul committed mass genocide” flag again.)  We’re not dealing with apples to apples here, but in the cosmic scale I think Oliver Queen comes out just fine.

Oliver and Talia fight their way into “the room” to take on Dr. Parker. 

Source: @olivergifs​

We get some extremely excellent fight scenes.I am so happy we are back to the days of Oliver taking down 50 bad guys by himself or with someone who actually knows how to fight. 

Now it’s Oliver’s turn to drop some truths on Dr. Parker.

Oliver: My father pushed people away. He kept secrets, and I made those same mistakes. But if I choose to break the cycle, I’m gonna do it my way.

Source:  olivergifs

MY SON IS SO GROWN!!!!!! 

Oliver yelling his name in his growly voice will always be awesome. I am thrilled any time Oliver can achieve insights into himself and his father. It’s not the cycle of violence he needs to break. If he’s going to be the Green Arrow and Oliver Queen (and yes that’s where this is headed) then there’s going to be some violence. Oliver can tweak how much violence he’s going to engage in though.

What’s really important is breaking the cycle of lies and walls. Oliver cuts himself off from those he loves just like Robert Queen did. He has grown so much over the past seven years, and his sacrifice was so selfless, but he still lied to Felicity about prison. He made the decision without her. Every time Oliver lies and pushes people away he hurts those he loves and himself. 

The monster no longer has power in Oliver’s life because he’s embraced love. Every time he chooses an unrighteous path it’s an opportunity for the monster to regain control. Every step away from the light is a step towards darkness. Being a good man is not limited to wearing a mask. He must be a good man as Oliver Queen and as the Green Arrow.

Source: @olivergifs

SEVEN YEARS Y’ALL!!!!!!!!!!! I HAVE WAITED FOR OLIVER QUEEN TO COME TO THIS CONCLUSION FOR SEVEN YEARS!!!!!!!!! 

Season after season, review after review, waiting, watching and hoping for him to finally understand man and mask must be one. I am legit screaming. SCREAMING.

This was the light bulb I’ve been waiting to go off in his head. THIS MOMENT WAS EARNED! And worth the wait.

Oliver gives Talia the USB with the evidence they gathered to give to Felicity. He refuses to leave the prison because then he’d be a fugitive for the rest of his life. #OliverQueenPuttingHisFamilyFirstAlways.

Source:  smoakmonster

Trust me, Talia. She knows. 

Oliver returns to Level One and is reunited with his prison wife Stan, who quickly informs him his real wife came for a visit. 

Every time Oliver hears Felicity’s name I swear to God his heart stops.

My heart broke for Oliver when he realizes he missed a precious visit with Felicity. He must have noticed she hasn’t visited as often as she could. (More on that in a minute).

Source:  oliverfelicitygifs

Stan tells Oliver that Felicity has a beat on Diaz and he’s not exactly thrilled. Oliver absolutely did not want Felicity going after Diaz and it’s clear he’s scared to death she’ll be hurt. He has no way of protecting or stopping her, which is exactly the point. Oliver doesn’t get to decide this time. He has to simply wait and see. Whatever is going to happen will happen. It’ll be interesting when these two are reunited because there are issues.

Oliver has retained his light inside of Slabside, he’s developed more empathy towards the people he’s fighting against, and he understands he can no longer separate his two identities. If Oliver is in need of redemption (particularly with Felicity) then I say he’s learned the necessary lessons to achieve it.  It may be difficult for a time, but Oliver and Felicity will work through their problems once they are together again. In no small part because Oliver Queen is ready to be the man Felicity Smoak deserves and the hero Star City needs.

Source:  smoakmonster

Felicity Smoak

I am falling in love with Felicity Smoak and Bl*ck S*ren. Nobody is more shocked than me. I don’t know what to tell ya.

They make the perfect odd couple. Felicity is sunshine and roses while Bl*ck S*ren is a snarky (reformed?) murderer.  There are some similarities to Oliver and Felicity or Laurel and Tommy, which is probably one of the reasons I am enjoying it so much. Light meets dark. Funny meets serious.

Source:  hollandrooden

The sass and banter is funny and honest.  Neither is worried about hurting the other’s feelings because they aren’t really friends. It allows the characters to say things to each other Felicity and our L*urel would never say. It also makes the development of whatever potential friendship they may have in the future feel natural.

Source:  dinah-lance

Whereas with L*urel, I feel her friendship with Felicity was rushed and didn’t develop organically. We went from L*urel glowering and not speaking to Felicity to immediately “favor friends” inside of a single episode. 

HUH? 

It was also a little weird how they never talked about the Oliver shaped elephant in the room too, but whatever that’s all past.  None of this is a problem with Bl*ck S*ren and F*licity. In fact, all the things I asked for with L*urel L*nce I am actually getting with Bl*ck S*ren.

The writers are giving Bl*ck S*ren screen time to develop at a semi reasonable pace, the lawyer thing notwithstanding.

The other characters aren’t pretending she’s a saint or glazing over her mistakes. Bl*ck S*ren is being held responsible for the things she’s done wrong.

Felicity (and Oliver) have no problem taking shots at Bl*ck S*ren occasionally, because they don’t trust her and she deserves them.

Bl*ck S*ren fires back (hilariously I might add) and is rapidly becoming the Spike to Team Arrow’s Scooby Gang - something I think the show needs.

Bl*ck S*ren is lawyering more than Laurel ever lawyered even though she’s not a laywer, which is hilariously amazing in an off kilter sort of way.

Most importantly, she’s helping Felicity in a way that’s actually helpful!

If Bl*ck S*ren helps get Oliver out of prison and then my faves have all the sex, Imma gonna bake her cake or something. Anyone assisting Felicity this season gets an A+ and a gold star from me and Bl*ck S*ren is at the top of that list.

Listen, nobody is as shocked as me since I was loudly advocating for BS to remain evil. I still like her evil and will be fine if she regresses. However, if they are going to have a L*urel type character on this show then I want the writers to use her effectively. Thus far, they are with Bl*ck S*ren. It may all go to hell in a hand basket shortly, but for now leave me to my joy.

Source:  felicitysmoakgifs

The best scene was BS asking Felicity out on a friend date. It was almost as cute as Oliver asking Felicity out. It was really sweet to see the part of BS that craves human connection reaching out to Felicity in such an adorably awkward way.

Alright, that’s enough about Bl*ck S*ren. Time to talk about our girl. Did anyone notice Felicity seems reluctant to visit Oliver? 

Source:  smoakmonster

 Bl*ck S*ren tells Felicity to visit her husband and essentially kicks her out of the office. Welcome the Olicity ship BS! The bar is in the back.

Her reluctance is very telling. Felicity is feeling bad about her last visit with Oliver. Girl, why? You’re fine. The man has lessons to learn. 

Unfortunately, Felicity is denied access to Oliver when she arrives.  Felicity demands to see Oliver and think she uses “wife” and “husband” about twenty times in a sentence. Remember when we held our breath for one “wife” or “husband” last season? Now they use it with reckless abandon. It’s fabulous.

I have been dying for Felicity to meet Stan and yet I had no idea how Arrow would logically put these two characters together. I know logic isn’t always Arrow’s thing, but it’s not like Felicity can run into Stan and Oliver having dinner together. Turns out, this is not that hard!

Stan lets Felicity know Oliver has been moved to Level 2. I will always be eternally grateful to Stan for telling Felicity the photograph has become Oliver’s binky.

I guess I was a little surprised at Felicity’s shock over Oliver stabbing a guard. She’s very “He would never!” about it whereas I am more “Sounds right. He broke a dude’s neck once.” Yes, that was during Oliver’s pre-Felicity days, but he’d burn down Slabside if it means protecting her and William. Her whole “Oliver is a choir boy” reaction rang false to me because Oliver is not a choir boy.

The first person Felicity runs to for help is BL*CK S*REN. We are living in the Upside Down. 

Source:  dinah-lance

How much did you love Bl*ck S*ren yelling and threatening so Oliver and Felicity can visit each other? C’mere girl. Sit next to me. I made you a margarita.

Felicity confirms she’s only been there ONCE, and granted she was in witness protection for most of Oliver’s incarceration, but yeesh. It has to sting a little for Oliver that she hasn’t been back since. Don’t lie and make unilateral decisions next time, big fella. 

Felicity would visit in sexy lingerie and bring store bought baked goods if you just LOOP HER IN.

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

Bl*ck S*ren and Felicity go to Dinah to get information on Slabside’s Level 2, since there are no digital records. 

Source: oliverfelicitygifs

Dinah hems and haws about helping Felicity, and she pretty much has to beg, which ticks me off to no end. You are part of the reason Oliver is in prison, Dinah. MOVE YOUR ASS. If Felicity wants to access to the evidence room you should be making her a copy of the key so she can come and go as she pleases. #NewbiesStopPissingMeOff2018

The records are a mess. 

Source:  dinah-lance

Dinah and BS spend a lot of time arguing about which legal method is best to help Felicity, but to be frank both their ideas suck and take too much time.  Felicity kind of loses it.

Source:  oliverxfelicity

She’s feeling an immense amount of guilt for being angry with Oliver over his decision to go to prison and not visiting. In typical Felicity fashion, she blames herself for whatever Oliver is going through. She believes she could have prevented it.

Source:  oliverfelicitygifs

Felicity Smoak breaks my heart. Listen sweetie, Oliver is a big, dumb oak tree A LOT. It’s okay to get mad at him sometimes. This man is a full time project. He’s exhausting.

If anyone is concerned about Felicity and Oliver’s marriage then this speech should tell you everything you need to know. Being mad at your partner does not automatically mean you don’t want to be with your partner. Marriage doesn’t work like that. For better or for worse is legit. You can be so angry with your spouse you want to throttle them and yet still love them more than anything else on this earth. 

Felicity can be mad at Oliver and still be madly in love with him. What Oliver did is no little thing. He made a massive and unilateral decision for their entire family without consulting Felicity. She has to live with the consequences, but had no say in her own life. 

We’ve seen time and again when Felicity is angry with Oliver she needs time and space to process those emotions. Felicity needs to work through her feelings before she can work through the problem with Oliver. It doesn’t mean she wants to end their relationship.

While she’s been looking for Diaz and processing her anger, Oliver has been going to extremes in his battle to track Diaz too. Unfortunately, now he’s missing.

This all hits Felicity where it hurts because her worst fear is losing Oliver. She thought losing her husband was bad enough, but now Felicity is scared Dr. Power’s mind warp program will take Oliver from her forever.

Source:  oliverfelicitygifs

I just want to hug Felicity and tell her she doesn’t have to worry about Oliver’s mind being erased. 

He dealt with all his deep and dark issues in the sewer with her. Felicity loved him through it and that’s the reason Oliver has remained intact on this new island. UGH. MY BABES.

Oliver and Felicity have remained connected despite their physical separation, but the distance is having an impact on them. They are starting to feel the consequences of time, distance, hurt feelings, and lack of communication. ENOUGH ALREADY! LET THEM BE TOGETHER! I WANT IT TO STOOOOOP!

Long story short, Felicity discovers Dr. Powers is going to erase Oliver’s mind and finds evidence connecting him to a cold case murder. That, along with Oliver’s evidence, is enough to get the Level 2 program shut down. It makes me a little sad Felicity doesn’t know the evidence is from Oliver. TALIA YOU HAD ONE JOB.

Source:  felicitysmoakgifs

Team Felicity, yes that’s the name, has such a fantastic light bulb moment when they realize they can use this Slabside evidence to appeal Oliver’s conviction. I don’t know how. I’m not a lawyer. I don’t know how Oliver was convicted in the first place because he was acquitted. How is he legally in prison? Whatever. I don’t care. Just get him out and send him home to his woman. That’s all I want. I’ve enjoyed the prison arc more than I anticipated, but I’m ready to be done.

Curtis and Diggle

Lord people. I cannot with Curtis. His undercover mission takes up a significant chunk of the episode and this is how much I care:

Fourteen PhDs???? FOURTEEN!!!!!!!?????? 

I am trying to hang with you show, and I realize you are a fantasy drama, but this is not humanely possible. Also, I am taking issue with Diggle reading out Curtis’ credentials when just last week Felicity tipped her hat to her credentials. She mentions going to MIT and then next week we are listing Curtis’ ridiculous number of PhDs and six languages?!

It feels like a bizarre pissing contest and yet these writers want me to believe this character is not in competition with Felicity.

Cammien Ray tweeted something brilliant yesterday and I thought it really summed up one of my primarily beefs with Curtis and Diggle having this storyline. This is everything we asked for Felicity, but they gave it to Curtis.

Felicity is off doing her own hero-ing and therefore the writing team’s ass is saved, but this character is in constant competition with Felicity. More often than not, Curtis over shadows Felicity so he has a friggin purpose on this show. Arrow is an extremely male dominated series. We don’t need one of few strong female characters sidelined for another male character’s benefit. 

Curtis bemoans all of the misery being a vigilante has brought into his life. Yes, Curtis has suffered the most out of all the characters. 

Oliver lost his freedom, Felicity lost her husband and child and Dinah’s boyfriend is dead. Hell, even Rene has more to bitch about. Zoe’s life was in danger for most of Season 6. BL*CK S*REN has more to be upset about. Her boyfriend, father and pseudo father figure are all dead.

But Curtis? He got a divorce. Sure, that’s sad, but his ex husband isn’t dead. Curtis is probably paying him alimony. 

Curtis was stabbed, his boyfriend shot, THEY BOTH SURVIVED, but woe is me.

Diggle has the audacity to compare Curtis to soldiers who have fought in war. 

We are not comparing Curtis and his T balls to men serving in the military. The reason why Curtis doesn’t look “done” when compared to those soldiers, John is because HE HAS NOT FOUGHT IN A FUCKING WAR OR SUFFERED ANYWHERE NEAR THE AMOUNT THOSE HEROES HAVE. 

Both of you please shut up.

I couldn’t understand why Diggle was arguing for Curtis to remain Mr. Terrific when he’s given up on Spartan and Green Arrow.  This is the second character IN A ROW Diggle has argued to break the rules and continue life as a vigilante. Whereas when it comes to Felicity she can’t be Overwatch or break any laws to free her husband. 

I also don’t understand why Diggle is arguing Curtis is so vital to the team when the truth is there are other characters that can do what he does and BETTER. Rene and Dinah are better fighters than him. This is the first week he looked mildly proficient in the field. This is why I say he’s the new LL. One week he can’t take down one bad guy, but the next he’s fighting twenty different people. It’s inconsistent and illogical.

Felicity is a genius and all the tech goddess we need. 

Anytime they use Curtis’ brilliant mind it’s to short change her. NO THANKS. The only thing Curtis brings to the table is his T spheres and pretty much everyone can operate them. I am quite annoyed with Diggle for trying to talk Curtis out of sidelining himself. 

Arrow continues to glaze over Curtis’ role in Oliver ending up in prison, there’s been no apology and he refuses to help Felicity. Instead, they write an episode where Curtis is given all the storylines we’ve asked for Felicity. Then Curtis whines about how tough life is when the other characters he refuses to help are suffering more. This is not the way to win me over. USE THIS CHARACTER LESS. He needs to disappear from my TV screen for a long time or, God willing, permanently. The more this show shoves this character down my throat the more I dislike him and I have a sensitive gag reflex. 

Stray Thoughts

“Empathy’s a word I’m learning. It’s a work in progress” HA! Loved this line.

I know neither Dinah nor BS are Felicity’s besties, but it was nice having all the women work together in an episode. It also gave Felicity a chance to unload some of her grief and fears. Can we make this a regular thing? Felicity needs girlfriends.

“I taught you to separate the man from the monster. Instead, you exposed your true identity for all the world to see and became the monster you always feared you were.” Bitch where?

Talia teaching Oliver to separate his two selves ultimately lead to her father’s death, so there are consequences for her choices too.

Felicity changes out of her high heels and skirt into jeans and tennis shoes for her visit with Oliver. The practicality in Felicity’s wardrobe this year is A+, so let’s keep the logic. Nobody drives to a prison in heels and she sure as hell shouldn’t wear them out in the field.

Oliver’s face when he finds out there’s no visitation in Level 2 looks like he was just told his puppy has cancer. Source:  olivergifs

You have not met Felicity “I Will Always Always Always Wait For You” Smoak. Suck a hot one, guard. Source: olivergifs

Why are the A.R.G.U.S. uniforms so dorky? Let’s cool them up costume department.

I need Stan to be good. Can we just let Stan be good?

Stephen Amell is 6 ft so the inmate who died is ENORMOUS.

Don’t you love how there’s been zero Diaz in any of these past few episodes? He’s just like the Boogey Man, but we never have to see him. It’s fantastic.

I don’t buy for a second Diaz took out a bunch of Bratva, but my larger concern is don’t hurt my Anatoly.

No flashbacks. Interesting.

That Elseworld promo was jarring. I’m scarred for life.

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 7x05 gifs credited.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

[pinapple-qween]

I’m Capable!

Relationship: Jason Todd x Reader (angstyyyyyyyy)

Summary:  Hi! Can you do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader goes on her first mission and Jason gets like super overprotective and they fight about it

Author: wazzup nerds, I’m back!

Key: Y/N= your name, L/N= your last name, S/H/N= your superhero name

Warnings!: Language, death

After months of training and researching in the safety of the BatCave, Bruce finally agreed to let you go on patrol. You seemed to excel at helping Batman stop street crime, so much so that Bruce approached you one evening, before leaving for patrol, and took you aside.

“Y/N, you’ve been a real help keeping Gotham’s streets free of crime as S/H/N. I’m proud of how far you’ve come and all the training you’ve put into this,” Bruce gave you a smile, his highest sign of pride, and continued, “Would you want to join us on the next mission? Before you say anything, I want you to know that missions are way more dangerous then patrol. Things can go wrong very easily on a mission.” Bruce looked you up and down. “What do you say?”

You took a deep breath, you knew this was going to be difficult but it wasn’t anything you felt you couldn’t handle. You looked Bruce in the eyes and sternly stated, “Yes. I’m in.”

Weeks before your mission with Batman and the Batboys, you were continually debriefed by Tim and trained harder by Dick and Damian than you’d ever trained with them before. It was to the point were you had to disappear if you wanted any alone time. The only person who seemed to ignore you was Jason, which wasn’t surprising. 

You and Jason never really got along, you always felt as if Jason thought you didn’t belong with them. Maybe it was because you were a girl. Maybe it was because he just didn’t really take to newcomers. You don’t think you’ll ever know the reason, but you weren’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

One of the times, three days before the mission, you were trying to hide out and get a little peace and quiet, you ran smack dab into Jason. You stumbled backwards from the solid mass and looked at who you ran into. When you saw it was Jason, and Jason had recognized you, you both grimaced.

“Watch where you’re walking,” he grumbled.

“Whatever,” you mumbled back. You went to continue walking but he grabbed your arm. “What?”

Jason’s face distorted in a compassionate kind of way before it returned to his normal scowl. “Don’t go on the mission. You’ll get hurt.”

Surprised by the comment, your eyebrows shot up. “W-what?”

Spinning you around to face him face to face, Jason leaned down to be eye level with you. “Don’t. Go.”

If his tone wasn’t so patronizing, you would’ve thought Jason actually cared about your well-being. But alas, he sounded like he wasn’t happy that you were tagging along. Angrily, you spat, “I can do what I want. I’m capable of anything! You have no say in where I go or what I do. You aren’t the boss of me!” You snatched your arm away from Jason’s grip and stormed off.

The day of the mission, the entire manor seemed to be on edge. Changes were being made to the plans every hour until everything was perfect, or as close to perfect as they could get. You did your best to help out or be out of the way, so everything could get done.

You sat in the living room, trying to focus on reading, glancing at the clock every few minutes. You tapped your foot as your eyes read and reread the same paragraph over and over. Time was moving as slow as it could until you heard feet trot down the hall towards the living room. In walked Tim, his hair raggedy and his eyes zooming over a stack of papers.

“Everything ready,” you asked, setting your book face down on the side table.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Tim sighed, “Y/N, this is one of the most important missions I’ve ever had to help plan and I’m nervous.”

You gave a little giggle, “Everyone gets nervous Tim.”

Tim looked at you seriously, “You don’t understand. I’m never nervous because I always have a solid and flexible plan. But this,” he smacked the papers,” this is complete nonsense!”

You lifted your eyebrows at his outburst. “Do you not believe in Bruce?”

Tim sighed even deeper than before, “It’s not that. It’s because this is so dangerous that I want to make sure no one will get hurt or worse.” With those words his eyes had shifted off of you and to the floor.

Your face got red with frustration and a little bit of anger as Tim inadvertently reminded you of your run in with Jason. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much.” You watched Tim’s face develop a blush as you stood from your chair and walked out of the room, going to the Batcave to wait for the debriefing.

Dick, Damian, Jason, Barbara, Stephanie, Tim, Bruce, and yourself as sat around the debriefing table in the Batcave and listened to Bruce go completely over the plan.

“Everyone understand?” Bruce waited for nods. “Good, okay, now for teams. Tim?”

Tim stood up, “Dick and Babs you’ll start here in the cave then Dick will hit the field after Babs works her magic. Damian you’re with Bruce, as per usual. Steph, you and me are strike team 1,” he pauses as Steph lets out a ‘yes!’, “that makes Jason and Y/N as strike team 2.”

Internally, you are groaning for a thousand years. Out of everyone in this cave and on this team, you got stuck with Jason. Jason! The one person out of everyone who didn’t want you on this mission is your teammate. Oh the how the fates like to mess you up.

After hating life for a moment, you look at Jason and see the he doesn’t seem phased. It’s probably because Tim told him that he’d have to deal with you before this and he prepared himself for it. You guessed he got all of his groaning out before hand.

Bruce spoke up again, “Get with your teammate and be prepared to leave in the next few minutes, I need to talk to Alfred then we’ll be off. Remember, you and your teammate are integral to this mission. Protect each other. It’s about to get dangerous.”

You and Jason walk over to your bikes. He stops you before you reach your bike. “You heard Bruce, this is going to be dangerous. Back out now. You aren’t going to be safe.”

Your face starts boiling. “He also said we’re all integral parts of this mission. I’m just as important as you are. We also have to protect each other, remember that?” You got right into his face.

Jason remained calm which infuriated you even more. “I’m trying to protect you before something bad happens,” his scowl makes his words mean nothing.

You watch Bruce walk to the Batmobile. You stare Jason right in his eyes, “Time to go.”

No one knows where it went wrong. No one knows how it went wrong. All anyone knows is that is went off the walls wrong.

The last thing you remember was Jason and you making your way to your ambush positions, but there was no one there. That was when you heard the sirens and the spotlights shown on you and him.

“S/H/N we gotta move! Go, go, go!” You ran ahead of Jason barely as he fired on the oncoming rouges. When he had a second, he yelled into his comm, “S/H/N and I are under heavy fire, requesting back up.”

Through static you heard Bruce’s voice, “We can’t get through to you guys! You need to retreat, get out of there!”

You see a clear ally and grab Jason’s arm, “Through here!” You drag him through and hit a wall. “Shit!” You spin around and watch as you two begin to be surrounded. Bruce’s words echo through your head, Protect each other. You look at Jason, “Red Hood, you climb. I’ll hold them off and when you reach the top, send down a rope. Got it?”

Even with his mask on, you could see the frown as he shook him head. “Red Hood! I’m not asking! Just do it.”

Begrudgingly, you watch as he began to scale the wall, one thing you knew you were bad at. I’ll have to work on that, you thought. It wasn’t until you saw blow back close to Jason’s foot that you remembered your job. You had to protect.

Jason looked down from his climbing and watch as you took on the advancing forces, encouraging him to pic up his pace. He knew you shouldn’t have come. He told Bruce. He told Tim. He told Dick, Damian, Steph, Babs, anyone he thought would listen, but no one did. He couldn’t lose you.

He swung his leg on top of the roof, readying a rope to throw down, when he watched you get hit. He didn’t see where it went, but it didn’t look good from the way you reacted. “Y/N!” He saw you turn and he dropped the rope down to you. He watched you grab it and he pulled you up to him. All he could think was to get you out of there.

Once he did, Jason grabbed your arm and started to run with you. He noticed that you were slowing down and, without a second thought, scooped you up into his arms. “Come on! We got to get out of here,” he looked at you an noticed how pale you were getting. “Y/N, stay with me. I promised to protect you damn it.”

You two were at your bikes when Jason set you back down, but you couldn’t stand. It was at that point that Jason realized you were shot in the stomach. “Shit!” Jason spoke into the comm, “Bruce, Y/N got shot and she isn’t looking good. We’re at our bikes, get here now!” Bruce replied but Jason was laser focused on you.

“Y/N I told you this was gonna be too dangerous. Why wouldn’t you listen to me? I love you and I wanted to keep you safe!” Jason’s head fell and he felt his tears start streaming down his cheeks.

A voice that sounded softer than the wind, whispered, “You love me?”

Jason fell to his knees, helmet discarded, and looked you in the eyes, “Always have.” He listen to you chuckled but it tuned into sour coughing. “Please, you gotta stay with me. I can’t lose you.”

You looked like you were about to say something, but Jason watched as your head lobed to the side. Lifeless.

And Jason sobbed over you forever.

[saturatedworld]

“CONFESS.”

February is over, and so is the Feast of the Exceptional Rose. Londoners have casted their masks aside and wrapped up gift-giving business as they return to their usual routine, until next year.

That was what Chizuru thought, until a man in a hooded cloak and cat skull mask showed up before his door. “Confess.” The masked man demanded again.

This is awkward. He needs to say something. Anything. “C-confess what?”

“Your errors.”

“E-eh…?”

Terribly awkward. What does this man want? Actually, has he met this man before? There is a sense of familiarity in how he pronounced his r.

They can’t keep standing there. Not to mention that day off is meant for rest; he still feels pain in where his eye was. Yes, that’s it. He slowly closes the door as he says, “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not feeling well now, so I need to go….”

The masked man pushes the door open and barges in. Panic creeps in as well.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but—”

“Confess.” The masked man repeated again, this time in another tongue. A tongue Chizuru used to speak back in his old life, back on the Surface.

The hood slides off to reveal black hair. He knows this man. “Shiki-kun…?”

No reply. Chizuru closes the door, only the two of them together now. If this is his cousin, then it’s perhaps time to….

He puts on a warm smile. ”Please sit down. Would you like a cup of tea?” He asks, but still no answer. The panic that entered his mind earlier turns back into an awkward feeling.

When he returns with cups and a pot of tea, he is glad to see his guest has sat down—with the lack of response earlier, he wouldn’t have been surprised to see him still standing. After he has placed the cups and pot on the table between them, he asks, “Would you like to choose your cup?”

His guest, without any word, makes his choice with the gesture of one finger.

Two cups filled with tea, the aroma filling the space between them. Chizuru drinks from his cup first, then smiles as if reassuring there was nothing suspicious about the tea. Only then his guest takes off his mask.

His eyes are red. Redder than the tea he drinks. Red as wine. Red as blood.

The paining gap hidden behind his bandages throbs. Keep quiet now.

“You know why I'm here, right?”

“Shiki… no, sorry, it's Leonard now, isn't it?” Chizuru corrected himself. He glances at the door then the window. “Is Vlad here too?”

“He will not be happy when he finds out I have come to see you.” Leonard places the cup back on its saucer as he throws a sharp look at his cousin. “Please don't change the topic.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Leonard holds his mask on his lap, staring at his cousin in measured expectation. Chizuru, meanwhile, can only guess what his cousin wants from him.

His smile takes a resigned tone. “I'm sorry, I can't leave this city yet. There is still something I must do.”

No response. Is he mad? Well, he has every reason to be. With a stare that cold, what else could it be?

“Oh, don’t worry, it has nothing to do with our family in—”

“I know that.” Leonard replies, “It's hard to ignore how you conducted your investigations.”

Chizuru froze for a moment, like a child caught sneaking to steal from the cookie jar. After a while, he starts laughing. “Ahahah. I'm a mess on my own, aren't I?”

“You weren't on your own.” Leonard hisses, “You were with my husband.”

Chizuru paused again, recalling the words he has exchanged with the Romanian. When he has reassembled his thoughts, he replies, “I have told him to stay away from my business.” A sliver of regret in his tone. “But our goals overlap, so I suppose it couldn't be helped.”

Leonard’s expression hardens. “I saw you with Mrs Osborne too.”

“Oh, yes, she showed me around the University. A very kind lady, isn’t she?”

“How many more until you are satisfied?”

Those words froze Chizuru again. How many?

“You killed not insignificant number of players of the Game.” The hands holding the mask are trembling. “You killed my father.”

Chizuru casts his sight downward as he whispers one heavy word, “...Yes.”

“Do you plan to take my new family away too? I won’t let you.”

His stare is intense; it was as if burning flames gave colour to his eyes. He has yet to forgive. He may never will.

As the thought dawns on him, Chizuru’s already weak smile wavers. “You get it all wrong, Leonard. I don’t have such plan. I would never….”

“Laci—Vlad acts odd whenever he returns from seeing you. The madam too. It’s always like that. It happened to father too. They orbit you, and then….” The grip on the mask tightens.

“I never… intended any of that.” He murmurs. Memories from those days come rushing in.

“I will not let you take my family again. I refuse to go through that again, do you hear me?”

“I’m sorry.” One by one, each cutting him inside.

“Do you even know how I felt back then? Forgotten and ignored. Meanwhile you received attention from everyone, even my own father. And then you—”

“I.... I never wanted that. I never wanted any of that!” Chizuru at last raises his voice, silencing Leonard in turn. He remembers those days, when someone watched his every move. “I never wanted their attention! I never wanted to be in that position!” Those days, when they moved him like a pawn. “I never wanted to… I never wanted to kill your father.”

Oh, there he said it. The truth that he could never tell his cousin before. Leonard appears stunned by it.

Not long after, his lips twitched, followed by another barrage of words. “Why did you kill him then?! What was your problem?! What excuse do you have to make my life hell?!”

“Your father never knew boundary. He thought he could persuade me with enough promises, then threats. And I….” There was no excuse. He remembers it all; the conversation, his bloodied hands, those last words. His hands move to cover his face; he can’t face his cousin like this. “I’m sorry, Leonard. I lost myself. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect me to trust you?” Leonard asks, once again has regained control of his tone.

Chizuru shakes his head.

Leonard grits his teeth. “You—”

“I understand if you can't trust me. Even I can't trust myself either. I attract death. But please, please believe my story.” He shows his face again with his plea, to look at his cousin in the eyes. “I never wanted to hurt my own family. I’m sick of it all. If I hurt my new friends too, I would be….” Is his expression one of worry? Desperation?

“What matter does it change? You are still a murderer.”

Quiet again. Leonard is right; it doesn’t change the fact that he has taken lives. Chizuru knows he would be wary too if he was in his cousin’s position. Around him, calamity can befall one anytime, just like what happened to Nagato….

“Why did you kill players of the Game?”

The unexpected question interrupted Chizuru’s thought. Why? He tries, but he can't look at his cousin’s face again. It took a moment before he can answer, “It was an order… no, a request.”

“The Cheesemonger.” Leonard says, “I foiled her plan once. I thought the Aviary have silenced her, but….”

“I think she and I are the same—we are both sick of losing our families to the Game. And I’m sick of seeing my gentle approach failing to bring result.” A pause. Chizuru then shows his face again, revealing a pained smile. “I realized after everything was over: it’s all a lost cause, including myself.”

Leonard stands from his seat. From under the mask, he has pulled out a knife and pointed it at the neck of the man before him.

Chizuru, still smiling, tilts his head as he watches his cousin. “Can’t do now, Leonard. I have yet to avenge Nagato.”

“Why should I care?” Leonard hisses.

“You may kill me after that, if you wish so. I won’t run.”

Neither of them says anything. The knife in Leonard’s hand stays pointed at his neck. Chizuru keeps looking with a sad smile. A moment frozen by tension, as if it was eternity.

The first to break it was Chizuru. “An agent was sent by the family to bring me back.” He informs, “I refused him, but he insisted on it. So I threatened him, I will kill myself if he forced me to.”

Leonard stays still, unperturbed. Perhaps he now thinks that is exactly what his despicable, pathetic cousin should do.

Chizuru begins loosening the bandage around his head. “So to proof to him I won’t hesitate if it came to that, I showed him this.” The bandages fall off, showing a gaping hole. Red. Dark. Empty. Red. Red.

The knife wavers for a second.

“You can trust me to keep my words. You may kill me after I have finished that business.” Chizuru reassures him.

Red. The colour of the knife plunged into his shoulder. The colour of his eyes.

“Next time it will be laced with Cantigaster’s.”

Those words, too, felt as if they were coloured red. They bring a strange sort of relief.

When Chizuru notices Leonard walking toward the door to leave, he cannot help but stop his cousin by grabbing his shoulder. Leonard throws a glare at him without a second thought. Chizuru takes a step back, but he still needs to say it while he remembers.

“One last thing. It’s about your father… something I never got to tell you back then.”

Leonard, in silence, judges his words.

When he is sure he has his cousin’s attention, Chizuru continues, “Your father loved you until the end. The only names he said with his last breath were yours and your mother’s.”

For a short moment, Leonard shows a different expression than what he has had in the entire meeting. He puts his mask back on and departs immediately after.

And so it was set. He will kill the culprit responsible for the lost of his beloved’s life, and then his cousin may take his life for the same sin. The pain of his missing eye and his shoulder will be nothing. It can’t be more perfect.

Meanwhile, their tea has gone cold.

[izaswritings]

Title: at last, sunrise

Synopsis: Rapunzel gets kidnapped, Varian gets adopted, and a couple of evil hoodlums get what’s coming to them. All in all, it’s a good day.

Notes: I mentioned in my fic daybreak of the victor that Rapunzel sees Varian as her little brother, and I kind of wanted to write more on that? So here, have this—fluff, humor, feels, and sibling bickering/bonding all in one.

I’ve said this before, but—as much as I adore writing character development, it is so nice to explore the after, too.

Didn’t edit this nearly as much as I usually do—please let me know if you catch any mistakes!! (Also, I’m always open for feedback or constructive criticism, so please, don’t be afraid to tell me if you think something doesn’t quite fit!)

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This fic is a prequel to two other fics of mine, daybreak of the victor (which can be read here or here) and the problem with politics (which can be read here and here). You don’t need to have read these fics to understand this one, but it does provide some background for the fic!

AO3 Link for this fic is here.

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The tunnels beneath Corona’s castle are the stuff of nightmares. No matter how many times Rapunzel has been here, they are unchanged. Dark, damp, and as frightening as they were the first time she stepped through them. They are lit by a ghastly green glow, thin and weak, barely illuminating the floors, and even an extra lantern cannot quite pierce through the darkness that surrounds them. They are always full of dust and cobwebs, danger lurking around every corner. They are mystery incarnate, holding secrets and threats Rapunzel can only guess at, a place of constant peril.

“Princess,” Varian says, from behind her, voice dark with irritation, “if you don’t stop laughing, I’m going to have to gag you.”

They are walking side-by-side in the tunnels, Varian holding the lantern above their heads to light their path. On Rapunzel’s shoulder, Pascal is nestled into the hood of her cloak. At the moment, none of them are quite looking where they are going— Varian is giving Rapunzel the stink eye, Pascal is having conniptions, and Rapunzel is currently dying.

“Oh!” Rapunzel says, and slaps a hand across her mouth. She can’t quite stop giggling, however. “Oh, Varian, but their faces!”

A smile twitches at Varian’s lips before he ruthlessly squashes it, scowling at her so forcefully it looks more ridiculous than threatening. In the light of his lantern, she can see his cheeks go pink. “Stop, stop it, I was improvising!”

“It is I, Varian! The Alchemist! Come to enact my revenge!” Rapunzel mimics, and has to stop, she’s laughing so hard. She places both hands on her knees and wheezes. Tears bead in her eyes. “Oh, Pete! Stan! I’m so sorry!”

Varian elbows her. “Stop laughing!” His cheeks are bright red, the tips of his ears burning. “I had to improvise, okay? I didn’t know they would come back right when I was sneaking you out! You said Cassie was keeping them distracted!”

“No, no, it was good, really!” Rapunzel insists, and clasps a hand to her mouth before she can burst into hysterical giggles all over again. “Very convincing!” she squeaks out through her fingers. Her voice is high and strained.

Varian gives her a disgruntled look, unconvinced. “Somehow I do not believe you. Why is that?”

Rapunzel takes a deep breath, shaking her head to get her laughter back under control. “Oh, I’m sorry, Varian, it’s just…” She bites her lower lip, grinning into the back of her hand at the memory.

He’s not wrong about Cassandra, she had promised to fill in—alas, Pete and Stan must have somehow slipped her notice. Varian had reacted very well, all things considered, and it probably would have been okay, dramatic speech and all, except… well. Varian hadn’t been wearing his alchemist’s mask at the time, and instead of intimidating, he’d just looked rather panicked. A bit like a startled rabbit, honestly.

In other words— Adorable.

“It was just… so… you,” Rapunzel decides finally.

Varian reels back at this, overblown offense on his face. He waves both hands in the air, the lantern swinging wildly in his grip. “What! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rapunzel wavers her hand back and forth in a vague gesture. “Just… you.”

He scowls at this, turning his back on her with a dark mutter under his breath. He raises his voice, sounding peeved, not looking at her. “…This is a kidnapping, you know. I’m kidnapping you. Just so we’re clear.”

Rapunzel looks down at her unbound wrists and unchained feet, the frying pan at her side. She looks back at Varian, at the comically serious expression on his face, the near pout he is just barely biting back.

Her choice is instantaneous. Rapunzel sags dramatically against the wall, as if her knees have gone weak, Pascal bawling fake tears on her shoulder. “Oh!” she says, pitching her voice high and breathy in pretend terror. “You dastardly fiend! You have captured me! Taken my only means of escape! Whatever shall become of me!”

“Why is it, that you’ve only gotten more embarrassing with age?” Varian complains, but he’s grinning despite himself. He shakes his head and shoves at her shoulder. “C’mon, move it, we gotta go! We’re burning lantern-light here, night won’t last forever.”

Rapunzel fakes a stumble and Pascal gives a nice theatrical wail. “Ah!” Rapunzel says, pretending to cower at the wall. It takes everything she has to not cackle at the look on his face. “Don’t hurt me, dear sir! Mercy! Mercy on me!”

Varian stares at her for a long moment in contemplative silence. “I’m gagging you,” he decides finally, and Rapunzel laughs so hard she falls over.

-

See, it starts like this: the separatist group of Saporia decides to threaten war.

To be more precise—the Separatists gather up their weapons, terrorize a few villages, somehow manage to get an alliance with a neighboring kingdom (Damn it, King Trevor, Rapunzel thinks), and then they make an ultimatum: give us land or else.

Now, this would be a very serious and not-at-all laughing matter sort of situation, if the Separatists hadn’t done it in such a way that Rapunzel is helpless to do anything other than stare at the missive and say, “But… that’s… so stupid?”

“Honey, they’ve infiltrated our kingdom.”

“But we know their base?”

Her father sighs at her. “They want us to attack them, Rapunzel. They have the treaty with Equis for that reason. If we crush them publicly, as a kingdom, without a crime that King Trevor can’t excuse—well. Equis can retaliate. It will break into full-blown war.”

Rapunzel arches an eyebrow. “Then… don’t attack them publicly. We can send men in disguise!”

Her father crosses his arms. “How many men? They’ll know it’s us if we send an army. Trevor—” He practically growls the name, “—will immediately suspect. We can’t send more than two or three people, and we most certainly can’t do that.”

The solution to that, of course, is simple. “Send me,” Rapunzel says without thinking, and gets promptly banished to her room.

Thanks, Dad.

Sometimes he’s good at respecting her choices, Rapunzel thinks absently, tapping her quill against her lips as she writes her letter. Other times, her father can be rather exhausting.

The difference between now and then is that nowadays, Rapunzel had no more patience for it. Her father has forbidden her from infiltrating and taking out the Separatist group? Fine. She’ll just sneak out and do it herself.

Of course, it never hurts to have help.

It’s easy, grabbing a hold of Varian—easier than it would have been a few years ago, before he returned to Corona. All she has to do is borrow Owl and send him off with a message, and then she meets Varian in a secret location a few days later. He always comes, when it is Rapunzel asking; she suspects lingering guilt.

Two days after she sends the message, she arrives at the Snuggly Ducking, a usual meeting place of theirs. Varian is already there waiting. He stands the moment he sees her, walking quickly to her side, pale with worried. “What is it?” he asks without any delay, searching her face. “What’s wrong?”

Rapunzel places a hand on his shoulder, and he jumps at the contact, blinking fast. “Calm down,” she tells him gently. “I’d have said if it was anything immediate. Come on, let’s sit. Have you eaten?”

Only after they order some food and drink, and Rapunzel has secured a private room from Lance, does she finally sit down to talk. The room is small, but secluded, the walls secure from eavesdroppers and attackers alike. Two small chairs and a small wooden table is its only furniture.

Rapunzel settles down in her usual chair, and rolls out the map for Varian to see. The door opens before she can speak, Lance sweeping in with their food. Rapunzel gives him a sincere smile. “Thank you, Lance. I’ve missed your cooking.” She glances at the plate and gasps in delight. “Ooh, and pie, too?”

“Of course! Anytime, little lady, if it’s for you,” Lance replies warmly. He sets down the plates and ruffles Varian’s hair with a grin. “Anything for my favorite customers! Lemme know if you two find any more buried treasure like last time, y’hear?”

Varian bats his hand away with a scowl, and Lance laughs deep from his gut, walking away. “I’ll keep the eyes off your back,” he calls after them as he exits. “Go save the kingdom or something for me!” He pokes his head through the doorway to point a finger at Varian. “And you, kiddo, you better let me know if you’re staying for dinner.”

Varian mutters under his breath and brushes his hair back into its usual style, tying the strands behind his head in a loose pony-tail. “Yeah, yeah. I’m staying.”

“Wonderful! I’m making your favorites, then. It’s a special day, after all!”

Rapunzel waves at Lance’s back as he exits and turns to Varian the moment he’s out of sight. “Special day?” she asks with interest.

“Doesn’t matter,” Varian dismisses, waving it off. “Lance is just being—Lance. Mother-henning me.” His hand drops, and Rapunzel suddenly finds herself pinned under a fierce stare. Varian is practically bouncing in his seat, his fingers tapping hard against the table.

“Now can you tell me why you wanted to meet?” he asks, without any more delay. “Usually when its small stuff I meet with Cassie or Eugene, so, it’s something big, right?”

Rapunzel shakes her head, more amused by his impatience than offended. “Here,” she offers, pointing out the mountain hideout. “Have you heard anything about the Separatists lately?”

Varian leans over, eyeing the map. “Yes,” he admits. “I sent Cassie a letter about them this morning, actually. They’ve been… weirdly active. Bolder than usual.” He looks up. “The royal family knows?”

“And the guards.”

He frowns at this. “But then why haven’t they…” Realization flickers across his face. “The Separatists—they have leverage?”

“What they have,” Rapunzel says, “is a deal with a King who is willing to defend their right to be Separatists.”

Varian clicks his tongue, catching the subtext. “You can’t attack without inciting war, can you.”

Rapunzel snaps her fingers at him. “Exactly. Or, arrest them for being Separatists without getting the same result. Basically, we’re checked!”

Varian frowns. “It’s checkmate, actually. Checkmated…?” His face screws up, and he coughs into his hand. “…Anyway, you are acting weirdly peppy for this conversation topic? It’s a little freaky? Not like, bad freaky, but—”

Rapunzel snaps the map closed, cutting off his ramble. “That, my friend,” she says with dramatic grandeur, “is because I have a solution.”

Both eyebrows rise up, and a smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Okay…?”

Rapunzel clasps his hands in hers and leans forward over the table so he can’t escape. “Varian,” she says solemnly, “how do you feel about kidnapping a member of the royal family?”

Varian freezes.

Rapunzel grins.

“Oh, no,” Varian says, very quietly, and that is when Rapunzel starts laughing.

-

“I don’t know why I had to be the one to come,” Varian grumbles, hours later.

“Quiet!” Rapunzel hisses back. They are crouched in a bush, ducked underneath the many branches and leaves. She cannot help but be thankful, for once, that her long hair is now cut short; even unbreakable, it would have been a pain to lug around and hide. “Do you want them to find us?”

“I dunno, do I?”

Rapunzel frowns at him, disapproving, and Varian subsides with a sigh. His shoulders droop, his attitude falling to uncertainty. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea, okay? What if we get caught?”

“Easy,” Rapunzel says, and hefts up her frying pan. “We get to practice! It’s been a while since I went all out, y’know?”

“Well…”

“You have your staff, don’t you?”

“…I do…”

“And all your alchemy concoctions?”

“Well, not all, but…”

Rapunzel studies his face and gentles, smiling sympathetically and nudging at his shoulder. “Remember a few years back?” she asks, soft. “When you and I went into the tunnels, and fought our way through all those boobytraps?”

“Yeah,” Varian says. “And then I stole a useless flower, betrayed you and the kingdom, and started making what turned out to be some of the worst decisions of my life?”

Rapunzel punches his shoulder, a move reminiscent of Cassandra, unamused by this. “Before that. Just— just the tunnels. The moving walls, the traps, the collapsing floors…”

“The automaton,” Varian offers, brightening a little, as Rapunzel knew he would. Science has forever been Varian’s love. Even just the mention of the robot is enough to bring a sliver of joy to Varian’s face.

She beams at him. “Yes, exactly! The automaton. We worked together pretty well then, didn’t we?”

His smile is sudden and startling, small and uncertain but bright. “…Yeah. Yeah, we did!”

She nudges his shoulder again. “That’s the spirit! And I mean, after having faced such a… a marvel of ancient scientific achievement, what are a few goons?”

This time, Varian grins, all teeth. “Easy pickings?”

Rapunzel matches his smile, bolstered by his good mood. “Exactly! So chin up, okay? Don’t worry. I’m here with you— we’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Varian says, and this time he really sounds like he means it. Rapunzel tugs a twig from his hair and tells him the rest of her plan with a wicked smile.

Varian matches her grin with one of his own, laughter in his eyes. “Aw, you’re right,” he says, warmth in his voice, “we do make a pretty good team, Princess.”

-

“I seek an audience with the to-be King of Saporia,” Varian says coldly, shoving Rapunzel forwards. Rapunzel stumbles in her footing. Her arms are wrenched tight behind her back, tied with rough twine and twisted so she can’t get free. There’s a gag around her mouth and fire in her eyes, the hook of Varian’s staff circling her throat.

At the entrance of the mountain hideout, home of the Separatists, the look-outs hesitate, stepping back, glancing uncertainly between one another. Neither of them speaks.

Varian’s eyes narrow, shoulders drawing back. He grabs Rapunzel’s arms and forces her to her knees so that he can point the staff at them, instead.

“Well?” Varian snaps. He makes a terrifying sight, in this midnight darkness— a tall and snap-thin teen, all angles, with dark circles like bruises beneath his eyes and deep shadows across his cold face, a wicked scar trailing across one cheek. Varian tilts up his chin and jabs the staff in the look-out’s direction, the alchemical concoctions tied to the tip glowing a sickly green-and-yellow. “Get going, before I decide to find him myself.”

One guard steps back, but the other steps forward, sword held out, expression uncertain. “Who—who are you? I don’t—”

“I am someone who wants revenge on Corona, same as you,” Varian says. “What more do you need to know? I have the Crown Princess at my feet and my staff at your throats. I don’t advise you make me wait any longer.”

This, it seems, is enough for the guards— without a second glance, they both flee into the hideout, vanishing into the dark, leaving Varian and his prisoner alone.

The moment they vanish, Varian’s shoulders sag, and the cold expression falls from his face. He looks down at Rapunzel in worry. Rapunzel sits up and winks at him.

“For the record,” Varian whispers down to her, “I've changed my mind. I hate this plan so much. I mean sure, they were dumb enough to both leave and get him—their hideout is completely undefended right now, I’m a bit offended, but—”

Rapunzel rolls her eyes at him, sitting back on the dirt. Pascal crawls out from behind her hair, shaking his head up at Varian from her shoulder.

“I mean, yeah,” Varian admits, squinting at the unprotected hideout entrance, scar scrunching up near his eye, “it’s nice to be respected, but like— wow, this is one of worse ones yet. The plan, I mean. I’ve met worse goons— the plan, this plan though, oh yikes.”

Rapunzel turns to stare at him, deadpan. She cannot believe him. Is he really saying this now? Here? When they are quite literally in the middle of said plan? Ridiculous.

Varian looks back. “Oh, wow. Did you learn that one from Pascal? ‘Cause it kinda feels like you learned that one from Pascal.”

Pascal squints at him. Varian nods knowingly. “Yep,” he says. “That was a Pascal-look for sure.”

Footsteps and voices echo from within the hideout, and all three of them pause, before they snap back into character. Pascal vanishes back behind Rapunzel’s hair, and Rapunzel directs her eyes to the ground, shoulders bowed in pretend defeat. Varian gingerly places the crook of his staff back at her throat.

“Positions, everyone, positions,” Varian mutters, mockery of a stage play director, and giggles nervously under his breath.

Rapunzel bites her lip to keep from laughing and shakes her head. Angry thoughts, she reminds herself. Must think angry thoughts!

By the time the Separatist self-proclaimed King and entourage turns into the light, Rapunzel is ready, eyes lowered but burning with fury. It is not hard. All she has to do is remember the threat this man poses to her people, and the rage comes quickly.

Varian’s face is once more wiped clean of emotion, his cold blue eyes glittering with malice. When he sees the Separatist leader arrive, he smiles a crescent smile, a smile too wide to be sincere, devoid of true joy and warmth.

“King of Saporia,” Varian says, calm. “I’ve come to offer you my services.”

“Have you,” says the man, but he seems non-hostile, mollified by the title Varian has granted him. He glances at Rapunzel and then away again. “A bold statement, my dear boy. Why, pray tell, should I believe you? Or even have need of such services?”

“Because I have the Crown Princess of Corona at your feet and skills you could only dream of,” Varian says, smile dropping. Silly questions always have made him impatient. “Do the math, old man.”

“The Crown Princess—?” the man starts, looking to Rapunzel for a long moment. After a second his eyes go wide with recognition. “That is—… by the Moon, it is her.”

This time when he turns to Varian, he doesn’t seem nearly as confident. “Who… just who are you?”

“One who hates Corona as much as you do,” Varian says simply. He smiles again, hard and cold as stone. “Tell me, would-be King of Saporia. Have you heard of the Alchemist?”

“The Alchemist? You?” The false king steps back. “But I heard… I heard he was much older. And you don’t look at thing like the wanted poster…”

“Is it my fault if the kingdom is full of fools?” Varian asks simply. “They didn’t want the stigma of being beaten by a fourteen-year-old; worked out well for me all these years. I am tired of this. Do you agree, King? Or should I go,” he pulls back the staff, near choking Rapunzel, and she holds her breath to keep from coughing, “—and give my gift to someone else more… appreciative?”

“No!” The Separatist leader says, panic and greed clear as day in his eyes. “No, no, my dear boy… You, you are welcome! Your company, your abilities…” His eyes stray to Rapunzel. “And your gift.”

“Wonderful,” Varian says. He smiles, much more genuinely this time, and squeezes Rapunzel’s shoulder in a silent cue. “We have a deal then. Now—”

All at once, Rapunzel breaks into motion. She twists and turns and fights with all her might, and Varian lunges at her bound wrists, pretending to struggle to keep a hold on her.

“Damn you, help me!” he shouts at the Separatists. “Bring your men out here, hurry!”

“Can’t you do something?” the leader cries out, stepping closer, nervous at the idea of his prize escaping.

“Do as I say,” Varian snarls back, acting out his part perfectly even as he dabs chemicals on Rapunzel’s bound wrists, “or Moon help me, I’ll—”

Rapunzel ‘rips’ free of the rope bindings while all are distracted and lunges for the Separatist leader. Her rope bonds fall away like water, the cords already eaten away by one of Varian’s concoctions, just as they planned. She grabs the startled leader, twisting his arm behind his back the way Cassandra taught her, and holding the rim of her frying pan under his throat, cold metal against his windpipe. “Drop your weapons!” she shouts, when all the Separatists go for their swords. “Stop moving now, or—or, the old man gets it!”

The old man gets it? Varian mouths at her, looking incredulous, and Rapunzel flushes, shaking her head at him.

The men mumble, shuffling uncertainly on their feet. Rapunzel glares her fiercest glare at them. “Well?” she demands.

They glance between each other. “…We could always get a new king,” one guard mumbles, and as one, every Separatist sword rises.

In her grip, the former Separatist leader sobs pathetically.

Rapunzel nearly drops her pan. “Really?” she says, disgusted and annoyed. “Really?”

“I told you so,” Varian mumbles, and that is when the men attack.

-

“Stop pouting,” says Rapunzel, an hour later, trudging through the woods. Varian follows at her heels, grumbling quietly. “We were fine!”

“You hit me in the eye,” Varian says back. “With a frying pan.”

“That was an accident!”

“You threw it straight at me!”

“I thought you were going to catch it! Everyone else always catches it!”

“Threw it at me,” Varian repeats stubbornly, rubbing forlornly at his face. “Giving me black eyes, making annoying plans, setting off flares…”

“It all worked out!” Rapunzel insists, offended by his complaints. She brushes a stray branch away from her face, ducking underneath another one, heading up the hill with a huff. “We were amazing! You didn’t accidentally say anything cheesy in a panic, I got to dramatically escape and hold a man hostage, we had a wonderful time subduing a threat to the kingdom, and we won! It was perfect!”

“Sure, they all got arrested,” Varian says. “But we had to run away from guards, and my eye hurts, and I told you so.”

Rapunzel grins at him. “And we won!” she repeats stubbornly, nudging him with her elbow.

Varian waves a hand. “Ehhh.”

“Ehhh?!”

“Yeah, that’s right. Ehhh. I think we should’ve done my plan.”

“Your plan!” Rapunzel says, crossing her arms. “What was your plan!”

Varian huffs. “Well, I may have forgotten to mention it, but—”

“Ohoho, did you?”

“—BUT,” Varian repeats loudly, “I’ll have you know it was a vastly superior plan—”

“Oh!”

“—Very well thought out—”

“I see!”

“—And it would have absolutely worked, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. So there.”

“W-ell,” says Rapunzel, trying not to laugh, adopting a lofty tone, “I’m very sorry for not following your wonderful and yet unspoken plan, Varian.”

Varian nods firmly, crossing his arms with a satisfied smile. “Thank you,” he says primly, and promptly trips over a branch.

Rapunzel catches him before he can face-plant the ground, laughing softly as she sets him upright. “You okay there?”

“Branches, too many branches. Where are we even going? This isn’t the way back to the castle!”

“That way is going to be crawling with guards for a while, so I figured we should avoid it for a bit.” Rapunzel tugs him forward, looping their arms together playfully. “I know a good place to rest, yeah? We’re almost there! Just, trust me?”

Varian goes quiet at this. When he finally responds, his voice is much softer. “Okay,” he says. His eyes are on the ground. “I trust you.”

Rapunzel faces forward, and doesn’t look back at him, doesn’t dare to. But she smiles into the shadowed brush, so wide and bright that the force of it nearly brings tears to her eyes.

She never really thought they could have this, is the thing, never believed she and Varian could ever be friends again. Those years ago, after that battle in Old Corona, she had thought that would be the end of it. She could apologize, she could give him a second chance, she could try— and maybe, things could be all right. But even then, she’d never dared to dream that this would happen. That he could forgive her, and that she could forgive him. That they could start over.

The events that brought them to this point—none of them were nice, none of them were pretty. Some still give Rapunzel nightmares, memories of a dark place, of a desperate chase, of a bloody arrow or a kingdom in ruin. She still has scars, pale and light, remnants of wounds even Rapunzel’s quick healing can’t erase entirely. Varian is missing half his ear, has a scar slashing across half his face. Eugene’s leg will never be the same; Cassandra’s back is a mass of scars.

Yet, for all the ugliness in their past, their future is bright. It is full of laughter and fun and fights that are more brawl than true danger. Rapunzel… she can never regret these past few years, not really. Not when it has brought her this future, not when it has brought her here, to a world where Varian says “I trust you,” and means it, a world where they are not enemies. A world with Eugene at her side and Cassandra set to be Captain of the Guard. A world where they are victorious.

These thoughts comfort her as they walk, set her heart at ease and keep her walk steady. When they reach her destination, she has enough good cheer remaining to make of a show of it, a low sweep of her hand and a silly smile.

“May I present to you—a wall!”

“Ah, yes, the kingdom border,” Varian says dryly. “A riveting sight. Truly amazing. It’s almost like I didn’t grow up in a border town and see it every day of my life—”

Rapunzel has already climbed to the top. “Quit sassing me and come up!”

“Princess, seriously, I already know—”

“Up!”

He sighs loudly, but starts climbing, only complaining a little bit. Halfway up, his gloves slip, and Rapunzel leans over the edge, catching him just in time. She yanks him up the rest of the way with one sharp tug. He’s lighter than she expects, though, and she pulls too hard—they go tumbling back against the stone, Varian yelping and Rapunzel wheezing when Varian’s elbow digs into her stomach.

“Ouch!”

“Ohhh, thanks for that, just what I needed, to be sent flying into space—”

“I keep forgetting how light you are,” Rapunzel says, laughing weakly, trying to catch her breath. “Eugene is right! Have you been eating regular meals?”

“I forgot how strong and how nosy you are,” Varian says in return, pushing himself up. He pats the dust from his hair. “I’m fine, Mom. I eat veggies and everything, lay off.”

“I just worry.”

He sighs at this, rolling over onto his back, arms out-splayed. “I know,” he says sadly. “You always worry. I wish you wouldn’t.”

Rapunzel has nothing to say to this, so she lays down next to him instead, arms folded on her chest, looking up to the stars. She’s quiet for a long moment, playing with her nails, before she dares to speak.

“I’m told that what older sisters do,” she says finally, hesitant. “Worry, I mean.”

Varian sucks in a tiny breath. “An… older sister,” he repeats, but his voice breaks on the words, makes it a question.

“Yes,” Rapunzel says. She tangles her fingers, untangles them, tangles them again. She has called Varian her brother before—just once, a year ago, and it had seemed right to do it—but she has never laid claim to the title in this way, mentioned herself as a part of his family, rather than just him as a part of hers. “If… if that’s okay?”

Varian is quiet, quiet for a long time, his breathing rasping faintly in the air. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, wet with unshed tears. “…Yeah,” he says. “Yeah. I’ve… I’ve never had a sibling before. Its— I don’t… I don’t mind if— if you are.”

Rapunzel lets out a relieved breath, grinning up at the sky. “Okay,” she says, beaming at the stars. “Okay.”

“Do—do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you mind? Calling me— your brother. After everything.”

She rolls onto her stomach, pushing up on her elbows so she can reach out and tweak his nose. He yelps, hands flying to his face, and she laughs at his expression, confusion and childish annoyance clear as day in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” she tells him, warmth curling in her heart. She twists to sit up fully, legs dangling over the edge of the wall, the wind blowing through her hair. “How many times are you going to ask me that? You’re my brother. I told you that ages ago. Ah, you’re so silly sometimes.”

He laughs, or maybe cries, or maybe it’s something a little of both. He sits up too, next to her, one hand still rubbing at his nose. His eyes are blinking fast and he is hiding a smile behind his hand. “Ugh, where do you get off saying that? Remember the tunnels? Oh, you dastardly fiend—”

“May I remind you,” Rapunzel says with a grin, “of, It is I, Varian! Come to enact—”

“Okay okay! I get it, you win, can you please not remind me of that?”

Rapunzel breaks off into laughter, and after a moment of hesitation, Varian laughs with her, the last of the tension bleeding out from his shoulders. The wind blows cold against their faces, still clinging to the winter chill even in this early spring. In the distance, the capital city and the castle are awash in light, a glowing beacon on the horizon, a radiance gathering at its edges. It turns the far-off hills into black silhouettes, stains the clouds a brilliant gold and pink. Dawn is soon approaching.

Rapunzel smiles out over the kingdom and reaches out with one arm to hug Varian to her side on impulse. “Happy birthday, little brother,” she tells him, and kicks her feet over the edge. “Nineteen’s a big year—I know mine was. I hope you had fun tonight.”

He freezes in her hold, sucking in a sharp breath, stiff in her arms. “I didn’t know you—”

She grins at him. “A little birdie told me.”

“Who?”

“I think you’ll have fun finding out, won’t you?”

He pauses at this, and then sighs. “Lance. Oh, damn. There's gonna be gifts in my main hideout, isn’t there?”

“Better head to the Snuggly Duckling and pick them up before you go!” Rapunzel chirps, refusing to feel ashamed.

“You’re all terrible,” Varian says, but he is smiling, cheeks flushed with pleasure. “What, was this—this whole thing, was it—”

Rapunzel laughs sheepishly, one hand rising to pull at a strand of her hair. “Sort of…? I mean the Separatists, they were a legitimate issue, but… Yes.”

“I still don’t get how what we did solved anything,” Varian admits, picking at a loose thread in his vest. “Won’t King Trevor just declare war now? I mean, being a Separatist is a crime, but he’ll probably defend them against that charge, so…”

“Oh!” Rapunzel says, grinning back at him. “Actually, it’s pretty simple. See, you attacked and kidnapped me, and you made a deal with the Separatists— I can vouch for that. Ergo, because of that, they are guilty of aiding and requesting an attack on a princess, ergo this is a crime King Trevor can’t excuse, and thus— We charge them for the crime of assault, and since we aren’t persecuting them for being Separatists, King Trevor can’t throw a fit over it, and we leave them all to stew in their untimely demise.”

“Nice,” says Varian.

“I know, right? I make good plans.” Rapunzel pokes his side, and he squeaks in surprise, leaning away from her. “Nice subject change, by the way. C’mon, be honest. It was fun, wasn’t it?”

Varian smiles, a bit sheepish, his eyes bright. “Okay, okay. It was.” He takes a deep breath, looking as if he is about to speak, and then shakes his head. Abruptly he leans forward, twisting in her hold to hug her properly, both arms squeezing tight against her back, his hair brushing her cheek.

He has let go and pulled away before Rapunzel can react. “Thanks,” Varian says, very carefully avoiding her gaze. "For— for everything.”

Rapunzel blinks at him, still surprised by the sudden hug, and then smiles, soft and gentle. She feels like she's on cloud nine, so happy she could sing. “Of course.”

Varian shakes his head again, and stands suddenly, turning away. It cannot hide the tremble in his hands, the tears in his eyes, or the smile on his face. “I should go now,” he says awkwardly, fiddling with his clothes. “I still have…”

He waves his hand, looking frustrated, and Rapunzel nods knowingly, taking pity on him.

“I get it,” she says kindly. “Take care, Varian.”

He looks back at her. “You too, Princ…” He stops then, and smiles. “Rapunzel,” he corrects, and Rapunzel beams back at him, delighted.

They help each other down from the wall and Rapunzel wraps Varian in one last bruising hug before he can scamper off. For a moment he hesitates, and then his arms come around and hug her back, just as tightly.

“Goodbye, Varian,” Rapunzel says, squeezing him hard before she pulls away, hands resting on his shoulders. “I’ll see you soon.”

He grins up at her, for a moment looking every inch the boy he once was, the boy he still is, the boy she met years and years ago. “Bye, Raps.”

She waves him off and tries not to laugh when he leaves, because he is walking in the direction of the Snuggly Duckling. She hopes Lance doesn’t tease him too much, or throw too big of a celebration; she hopes he likes the gifts they all have left for him. She hopes tonight was as fun for him as it was for her.

She turns her face towards the sunrise and starts the long walk home, discussing with Pascal her story for how she ‘escaped’ her kidnapping. There is happiness in her heart and warmth brimming from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She feels happy. She feels victorious.

All in all, she thinks, watching as the sun crests over her kingdom, it has been a good day. A good day, a good year, a good life. It is the happily ever after the tragedy, the sunrise at the end of the long night. They may have struggled to get here—but in the end that sun shines all the brighter to their eyes because of it.

Her story has ended at last, and this ending—this happily ever after they have all been left with—it is one she has come to love, with every fiber of her being.

She walks home to her family without fear, led on by the rising sun, and not once does she think to look back.

[skelenyxx]

//i’ll save you// ~ I’ll Save You

//Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend Somewhere along in the bitterness And I would have stayed up with you all night Had I known how to save a life.//

/*/

"Nothing we do can change what happened, Ava, but we can make sure that it never happens again."

Perhaps Shoto was right.  Nothing I do could ever change the past right? As true as that fact was, it didn't ease the shame and regret that followed in the wake of that past. I could work to make sure that no one ever experienced that pain again, like Shoto suggested, but deep down, I knew that wouldn't be enough to wash away the pain I felt.

After all, it was my fault that Izuku had gotten mortally injured in that battle.

"I realize now that I probably should've talked to you about all of this before," Shoto added. I looked up at him again, his dual-colored eyes watching me again from under his red and white hair. "It's obvious you've been in a lot of pain since the fight, and I should've tried to help sooner."

I shook my head. "Don't apologize, Shoto. You haven't done anything wrong. Besides, you've had a lot of stuff to deal with since the fight as well." I may have been dealing with a lot, but I wasn't conceited enough to begin to believe that I was the only one. Shoto's father, Endeavor, was one of the Pros killed by Shigaraki and his hoard of Nomu, and handling the repercussions of that couldn't have been a small feat. "I've been meaning to ask, how have things been since...? Have you been doing okay?"

"I can't say things have been easy," he replied with a shrug. "I may have despised that man, but in the end, he was still my father. It's hard to explain... But since he's no longer around, my family and I have been able to work on the paperwork to get my mother out of the hospital."

"That's amazing, Shoto."

"She won't be officially released for another couple weeks, but it's a relief to know that the end of that torment is finally in sight. Without my father around, it's like a weight has been lifted off of all of us. It feels like we can actually be a family, but at the same time, his absence in itself is another weight added."

His mother meant the world to him, and understandably so. After all he went through in his childhood, it was honestly a miracle that he made it through as well as he did. His father was an abusive, overbearing figure that put all his own unfulfilled dreams and desires onto Shoto, and it resulted in a very tough home life. I knew I couldn't understand his true feelings about his father's death and how conflicting they might be, but I could at least understand his happiness in the fact that his mother would finally be coming home.

"I'm glad that things are going alright for you and your family. You deserve it," I said with probably the most genuine smile I'd been able to wear in weeks.

"Thanks."

We grew quiet again, occupying our minds as we watched Izuku in the hospital bed. His chest rose and fell evenly in time with the beep of the heart monitor, IV bags hanging by his bed labeled things like saline, and other machines all cranking along to the functions of his body. I wished he would just open his eyes, the green irises taking in his surroundings and analyzing everything the way they always did. I wanted to see his sweet, genuine smile and hear the determination in his voice. Izuku was the one who made me feel like I could be strong, and without him, I felt like my strength had been sucked out through a straw, leaving me weak and helpless. Perhaps it was a bad thing that I was so dependent on my friend, and it was such a stark contrast to the person I was many years ago, but I guess that was to be expected when you have a story like mine. Izuku taught me what it meant to be a friend, and what it meant to be a hero. To me, he was the epitome of those words, doing everything in his power to help the people he cared about and putting everything on the line in order to protect others. But in the end, it was his determination as a hero and a friend that put him in that bed.

No, it was me that put him in that bed.

"It's so strange seeing him like this," Shoto said after a while. "He was always so energetic and passionate. It's weird not seeing him around school."

I nodded. "I miss him. I just want him to wake up."

"Midoriya has probably the strongest heart of any person I know. I'm sure he's doing whatever he can to get back to us. He won't give up."

"But what if that's not enough?"

Shoto shook his head. "Don't think about it that way. Believe in him. Midoriya always finds a way to win. As he would put it: 'That's what heroes do.'"

Because that's what heroes do.  Izuku had said that sentence so many times over the years.  Anytime someone second guessed his motives or questioned why he wouldn't back down or retreat, his response was always those five words.  Izuku was a true hero, not just to me but to everyone around him.  There wasn't a sliver of doubt in my mind that he was meant to be the next symbol of peace, just like his mentor, All Might, and he had chased that very dream since he was a quirkless elementary school boy.  He never gave up on it, and it lead him to becoming one of the most promising young heroes of our generation.

"So what do you normally do while you're here?" Shoto asked me suddenly.  "You spend practically every free minute you have here at the hospital and it doesn't seem Midoriya has all too many visitors to keep you company anymore."

I shrugged.  "Sometimes I watch the news or read.  Sometimes his mom his here so she and I chat for a while.  But a lot of the time, I just talk to him."

"Talk to him?"  Shoto furrowed his brows in confusion at my statement.

"Yeah," I nodded.  "I don't know too much about superstitious beliefs here Japan, even after living here for three years, so I don't know if you guys have the same belief, but in America, a lot of people believe that if you talk to a person in a coma that you have a close connection to, they can hear your voice.  I don't know if I believe it or not, but I want to; I just want him to know that I'm here still and that we're all waiting for him to wake up."

"What do you say to him?"

"Different things each time.  I usually recount what's going on in school, what's been happening with his mother, and what the media has been saying about him or about Hero society as a whole.  And a lot of the time I just talk about old memories of us and our friends over the years."

"Sounds like you're a lot more sentimental than you like to let on," Shoto tried at a bit of humor.  Surprisingly, it worked, and the smallest curl graced my lips.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

/*/

Shoto stayed with me at the hospital for a few hours before eventually excusing himself.  He said he would've stayed with me until visiting hours were over, but he was supposed to be meeting his mother's doctor with his older sister to work out some of the finer details of Mrs. Todoroki's release.  I was glad that in the dark wake of such a devastating fight, he was able to find some light in it.

His words and advice still rung in my head. He was right; I had to start moving forward one way or another. Maybe I didn't deserve to, but I'm supposed to be a hero, and a hero saves people. I needed to keep working, keep learning so that this would never happen again. That's what Izuku would want.

The League of Villains may have been bested, but there will always be another baddie around the corner, each stronger than the last. Until hero society stabilized and a new symbol of peace was in place, villains would continue to grow ever more cocky, and more people would be in danger. If Izuku were awake, he'd be doing everything in his power to be ready for that and to protect people, so for his sake, ultimately I had to do the same.

But I knew that it was far from me truly moving forward. My body and mind may be working toward the future, but my heart was to remain in that hospital room with Izuku until the day his eyes opened again. But when would that day come? I didn't know. Sometimes it felt truly hopeless, like it would never happen at all.

Izuku wouldn't be in a coma if it weren't for me, that I knew within every fiber of my soul. He saved me, not just in the fight but so many times since the day we'd met. I wouldn't ever be able to repay him or atone for my failures until he came back.

I stood beside his bed, noticing the clock on the wall strike 10PM, telling me that visiting hours were over, and I felt a sudden determination wash over me. I knew what had to be done.

"I promise, Izuku," I spoke softly, my hand reaching out and gently gripping his. "On my life, I'll find a way. I'll save you."

This time, I'll be his hero.

/*/

//2 Months Ago, Tokyo//

"Oh my god," the young woman breathed as she took in the scene of destruction before her. Her face was largely obscured by the hood and mask that came up over her nose, but you could see the horror written in her blue eyes as she surveyed the battleground.

"Angel Blade!" a voice shouted from not too far off. The girl turned, her white and gold cape fluttering in the wind, as she came face to face with a boy her age, his green body suit blurring in her vision as he leaped around the rubble to her side.

They quickly ducked behind a large piece of building that had fallen, crouching as they breathed heavily. Angel Blade pulled her mask down and looked at the boy. "This is really bad, Deku."

Deku nodded, his green hair shaking haphazardly as he frowned. "Shigaraki just took out every Pro Hero that faced him. He's gotten exponentially stronger since All For One passed him his power."

"I'm not even sure I can say that's Shigaraki anymore," Angel Blade replied with a quick glance over the rubble at the thing that stood at the center of the destruction. "With all that power, he's become a monster. If the top Pros couldn't take him, I don't know if anyone can."

Another group of figures came into view, running towards the pair from behind some more rubble nearby. Angel Blade recognized them to be Ingenium, Uravity, Froppy, Ground Zero, Creati, Tsukoyomi, Red Riot, and Shoto, more of her classmates from UA.

"What are we going to do?" Creati, a tall brunette with elegant features asked once the group had reached them. "He'll destroy the entire city!"

"We're going to fight him, you idiot!" Ground Zero all but shouted, balling his fists at his sides. "We were asked to be here as backup and what kinda backup are we if we don't fill in when shit gets rough?"

"I agree with Kaachan," Deku spoke up, accidentally letting slip the nickname of his childhood friend rather than his hero name. Under the stress of the situation, nobody could blame him. "We can't let him keep going on or he'll just continue growing stronger and hurt a lot more people."

"Can we even defeat a villain like that?" Ingenium asked under the mask of his white armor, at the moment more concerned about the safety of his friends. Shigaraki had become a menace to behold, and to him it seemed like a fruitless effort to even try to fight him.

"We have to," Deku said with determination. "We may not be Pros yet, but we're the last heroes standing. The citizens are counting on us to protect them. We have to fight, and we have to win."

The group knew their friend was right, and although they had trained for fighting villains such as this, nothing could've prepared them for the fear that arose when actually forced to face power like Shigaraki's.

"I'm in," Angel Blade said, hands resting on the hilts of her swords. "If Deku is fighting then so am I."

"Me as well," Shoto spoke up.

"And me," Red Riot added, his spiked red hair practically glowing the light of the burning surroundings. "This is what we do as heroes, and it's not very manly to run away from an enemy."

"Tch, I was going to fight whether you guys joined me or not. Just don't get in my way," said Ground Zero, glaring at his friends.

"I think its best for you seven to fight since you're the strongest front line fighters of the group," Creati strategized, also looking at the bird man Tsukoyomi and the "white knight" Ingenium.

"Froppy, Creati and I will work on freeing trapped civilians and helping the injured heroes get out of the way," Uravity decided. "You guys won't be able to fight at full power until the area is cleared, and we can't hope to win without that power."

"Actually," Ingenium spoke up, "against a monster like that, I won't be of much help. I'll only get in the way if I try to fight. My attacks aren't powerful enough to take him on. I think my abilities would be more useful in helping to evacuate people. The quicker we get people out, the sooner you guys can go all out."

"I'm in the same boat," Tsukoyomi added sullenly. "Between the fires in this destruction and your three quirks," he looked at Angel Blade, Shoto, and Ground Zero, "Dark Shadow will be too weak to hold up against Shigaraki. It'd be better if I help the wounded and trapped." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry I can't be of more use."

"It's okay," Deku assured. "Getting people to safety is still a huge help."

Uravity placed a hand on Deku's shoulder. "Be careful," she looked around at the group that was about to march into the fray of battle, "all of you. And good luck."

"Always," Angel Blade smiled, pulling up her white mask over her mouth and nose.

The two groups split off, the rescuers heading into the wreckage of buildings to remove citizens and downed heroes, while the fighters dodged crumbling rubble on their way to the epicenter of the battle to face the creature that Shigaraki had become. Angel Blade stood at the edge of the giant crater created by the fight and stared at the monster in apprehension. Nomu or human, she wasn't sure what he was anymore. His once frail body was now swollen beyond its normal size, at least ten feet tall with massive distorted muscles and strange structures like spikes protruding from random parts. Sometimes the form of his appendages would change into things like large blades or pointed spikes sharp enough to impale anyone within arms reach. The incredulous amount of quirks dwelling within his body had created this atrocity, and they were all bursting forth simultaneously. It was a terrifying sight.

Deku and Shoto came to stand beside her, determination written in their features.

"Ready?" Deku asked.

Angel Blade nodded, eyes narrowing at the monster as she unsheathed her dual swords and activated her quirk. Orange flames licked down her arms, engulfing her hands and the swords in the blaze. Hellfire, her quirk was called. Very few knew the reason behind that name, but she had a feeling that her secret was going to be out after tonight. She couldn't afford to hold back against this foe or else risk the safety of herself and her friends.

Shoto and Deku also activated their quirks, fire engulfing Shoto's left side as a horrendously cold mist played on his right, and power surged through Deku as he let his quirk flow into his limbs, using Full Cowling to enhance his speed and strength immeasurably.

"Let's do this," she said, leaping off the edge of rubble into the crater alongside her friends.

The following battle was a frenzy of exchanged blows, fire, and ice. Ground Zero maneuvered through the air, using his explosions for propulsion and blasting Shigaraki in the face to knock him off balance any chance he could get. Deku, Red Riot, and Angel Blade dodged in and out of range of the enemy's reaches, attacking where they could and parrying when they couldn't, while Shoto used his ice and fire from a distance to burn or freeze him every chance he could get. Their movements and strategy were fluid, working seamlessly like a well oiled machine. They had trained alongside each other for three years, but that kind of teamwork is something that comes with more than just cooperation. It's understanding your comrades' quirks, theirs strengths, their weaknesses, and their fight styles. It's understanding how they'll approach a situation, how they'll react to peril, and what their motives are. The teamwork they showcased, it came from more than just being comrades or classmates.

It came from being friends, friends who trusted each other with their lives.

But no matter their cohesiveness and their power, it still wasn't enough. Shigaraki was more powerful than any villain or Nomu they had ever faced, and no matter how much they threw at him, he fought back with twice the strength. Not only that, but any damage they did to him only regenerated, leaving him practically unscathed. Meanwhile, the young heroes were beginning to wear down, taking hits left and right, unable to fully outmaneuver the massive beast that they faced. If they didn't find a way to turn the fight around, and soon, they would ultimately lose the fight the same as the Pros before them.

"Shit," Angel Blade cursed in pain as she slammed against what was left of a wall. She gripped her side, trying to force the searing pain to subside and she grimaced. She had moved in for another attack, using her flaming dual blades to slice into the monster, but she wasn't fast enough to move back before he had swung out with his massive arm, knocking her across the battlefield.

"Are you okay?" Shoto asked in concern as he approached her position, sliding on his ice to come defend his beaten friend as she tried to regain her footing.

"I think so," she responding, using one of her blades dug into the ground to pull herself back into a standing position. She grimaced again, clenching her jaw as her side felt like it was being stabbed. "I think I broke a few ribs," she added.

"Can you still fight?"

She nodded, pulling her blade out of the ground. "We won't be able to hold him off much longer like this."

"I know. We just have to hold out until the others finish evacuating the area." Shoto sent out another ice wave, the glacier grabbing hold of Shigaraki's arm, preventing him from landing a blow to Ground Zero as the angry blonde blew through the air yet again, firing another blast to the beast's face. It was enough to stall him slightly, but he quickly broke free of the hold, shattering the ice as though it were a thin sheet of glass.

Angel Blade reactivated her quirk, the warm sensation traveling down her arms and engulfing the swords she held as an extension of her attack range. Her flames could only affect what she touched; they weren't projectable like Shoto's, so she used the blades to give her more fighting power in close combat. Angel Blade had trained for many years to be able to use her dual blades as well as she could, and if she hadn't ended up moving to Japan to attend UA, she's sure she would've ultimately become an assassin "hero," like she'd been trained to be.

She glared through the pain, taking a deep breath and running back into the fray of the fight. Shoto used a wave of ice to give her a ramp to run up, and she leaped off the top, bringing one of her flaming blades down through Shigaraki's shoulder. She used the other to push herself back off of him, dislodging her blade and leaping back out of the way of a spike that immediately formed where she had been perched on his back. She growled in frustration as the wound immediately closed, the creature not even flinching in pain. Her attack was followed closely by Red Riot, who used his strength and hardened body to break the spike from Shigaraki's body and then use it as a baseball bat, slamming it into his side with such force that it actually knocked the monster to the side a bit. Just as he tilted to the side, Ground Zero came flying through the air, firing an explosive blast so large that even Angel Blade could feel the searing heat and had to dig her swords into the ground to keep from being blown backwards.

Ground Zero landed beside her in the most typical hero pose ever, glaring through the haze of smoke at the silhouette that was their enemy.

"If that didn't blast the bastard's face off then I don't know what will," he growled, panting heavily.

But as the smoke cleared away, the heroes stood dismayed at the sight of the still unscathed villain before them. The massive creature formed his arm into a blade and swung it out at the closest hero in range, which happened to be Red Riot. The red head was able to negate the damage that would've been caused by the blade by using his quirk, but it didn't keep him from being smashed relentlessly into the ground repeatedly. Angel Blade knew that her friend's Unbreakable form could only outlast so much, and foreseeing the worst, she rushed to his aide, digging a blade into the arm of the beast and tearing it out with a strength she didn't realize she had, nearly severing the limb entirely. For once, Shigaraki actually recoiled from the attack, pulling away long enough for the others to join in and distract him while Angel Blade pulled Red Riot up and ran him to the side.

His stone-like skin was cracked profusely, blood oozing out indiscriminately, and Angel Blade realized that that last attack had pushed him to his limit.

"I-I can still f-fight," he groaned, attempting to stand up before immediately losing balance and falling again.

"No," Angel Blade warned. "You're too injured and you've reached your limit."

"I can keep going!"

"You'll get killed, Eijiro," she said, using his first name in warning as she tore off her cape, handing it to him to use to wipe the blood dripping down his face. "You can't even stand and your Unbreakable form is shattered. That last attack was his strongest one yet. If it had been anyone but you that he'd hit, it would've killed them."

"I won't let my friends fight without me!"

"And I won't let one of my friends run into battle when they're on the brink of death!"

Red Riot stared at the destruction before him. He knew she was right, but he had a horribly bad feeling about what was to come; he needed to be there to protect his friends, at any cost. He had reached and surpassed his limit, but it wasn't in him to give up.

"Angel Blade!" A voice shouted from beyond the crater. "Deku, Ground Zero, Shoto, Red Riot!" A white armored figure flashed into view, standing at the edge of the crater, illuminated by the blazes surrounding him. It was Ingenium. "We've cleared the area!"

Noticing his two classmates off to the side, Ingenium ran to Angel Blade and Red Riot's side.

"Ingenium," Angel Blade said, "Take Red Riot to safety."

"What?! No!" Red Riot insisted.

"He's too injured and if we go full power, he'll be in even more danger," the girl continued. Understanding, Ingenium nodded, speedily scooping up the stubborn red head and rushing off with him in his arms.

"Dammit, Iida!" Red Riot shouted. "Take me back!"

"You know I can't do that, Kirishima," Ingenium said, still running effortlessly through the rubble and away from the fight. "Angel Blade is right. They won't be able to fight at full power if you're there."

"I need to help them!"

"Trust in their abilities, Red Riot. They are well-trained heroes. They will stop Shigaraki."

With Red Riot removed from the scene, Angel Blade turned back to the fight, noticing that the rest of her group had backed off momentarily, standing in ready. Deku took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. He was scraped up and bruised, but far from beaten. It wasn't over yet, not by a long shot.

"You heard the man," Ground Zero shouted. "It's time to go all out!" The blonde smirked mischievously, removing the safety from his explosive gauntlets that adorned his wrists, each one storing enough fire power to destroy a building.

Deku nodded, unleashing the mental dam that held back the majority of his quirk's power. He felt the power and adrenaline course through his body, making him faster and stronger than ever before. He had never used Full Cowling at 100% since even using it above 20% caused a massive shift in wind pressure when he moved, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  It was all or nothing.

Shoto had to be careful about using his power, because if he lost control of it, he could seriously injure the people around him, but they knew the risks of all of them going full power near each other, and they didn't have much of a choice. He raised the temperature of his flames, going so hot that they began to turn blue around him. The heat was blistering, so hot that it could be felt beyond the battle field, and when it was turned against their foe, it was a wonder the creature didn't melt on the spot.

Angel Blade stared ahead in apprehension. She didn't like using her quirk's full power; even after years of Deku reminding her that it was nothing to fear and to accept it as a part of herself, there was still that part of her mind that was drilled into believing it to be an atrocious thing.  They may have seemed alone in the wreckage, but she knew that through news broadcasts, the whole world was watching them and their fight.  She didn't know what they were saying or feeling about the young greenhorns, but all eyes were on them.   Regardless, they needed all of their power if they were to win, and she couldn't let her friends risk their lives while she stood on the side. She flipped her blades in her hands, bringing the ends of the hilts together in front of her as she closed her eyes. The flames moved down from her arms, engulfing her entire body in the blaze as she upped the temperature. What was left of her cape burned away, revealing the form of fiery wings, and her blades, engulfed in the flames, melded together, shifting into one, large weapon: a scythe. She opened her eyes again, and they were no longer the familiar cerulean orbs that people knew belonging to the young woman; they were a bright red.

Deku leaped into action first, moving so fast the eye couldn't see him.  A harsh wave of air collided with this teammates as he landed a powerful punch to the monster's abdomen, enough force to knock them over if they hadn't been prepared.  They all knew the destructive power of Deku's quirk when used at its full power, and they had trained alongside it for long enough to know how to work around it.

Angel Blade used the rush of air to pick her up off the ground, her blazing wings lifting her into the sky, high above Shigaraki.  Twirling her weapon around in her hands like a flaming baton of death, she descended, aiming for Shigaraki's head.

Managing to knock Deku to the side, the creature brought up his bulging arms, blocking Angel Blade's strike.  Her flames flared even higher, searing the skin on his arms that made contact with the scythe, blistering and melting under the heat.  Ground Zero took the opportunity to propel himself into the air with small explosions, joining the battle.

"You're in the way, sword girl!" he shouted.  Angel Blade took the hint and immediately away as an incredible blast shook the battleground.  A shock wave blew through the area so strong that it felt like a nuke had just been dropped in front of them.  Angel Blade was forced to land immediately, crouching to the ground and shielding herself from flying debris with his wings, attempting to not get blown away.  "Don't give him a chance to breathe!" Ground Zero ordered as the wind subsided a bit.  "Keep hitting the bastard!"

Shoto reached down, touching the ground with his right hand, flicking his wrist upwards and releasing a massive glacier of ice, encasing the villain in a prison of freezing temperatures.  Shoto knew that wasn't enough to stop him, but it gave him enough time to maneuver himself into position for his next attack and to cool his body temperature just enough to keep from overheating.  As the ice shattered into hundreds of pieces, forced apart by Shigaraki's sheer strength, the heterochromatic hero raised his left hand, focusing all his fire into one sole attack.  A wave of fire rushed forward, the usual orange flames focusing into a bright white blue color, washing over the creature before.  It was a technique called Prominence Burn, one that he'd learned from his father.  He'd never been forced to use it before, but it was far more powerful than anything Shoto had in his arsenal, and if it didn't weaken Shigaraki, then there was little hope that anything would.

Shoto wavered, his ice melting faster than he could produce it to keep himself cool, and he felt his left hand begin to blister under the heat, but he kept going, pushing himself to the far reaches of his limits, doing everything in his power to stay standing.

Deku, Ground Zero, and Angel Blade had backed off, knowing that they couldn't withstand the heat coming from their comrade.  Even for a fire type quirk user like Angel Blade, the scorching blaze was almost too much for her, sweat pouring down her face as she grimaced through it.  Deku and Ground Zero did the same, keeping low to the ground and waiting for it to pass.

But after a few seconds more, the dual quirk user was forced to relinquish, his strength fading quickly, and he stumbled, panting heavily as he cradled his now horribly burned left arm in pain.  He likely wouldn't be able to use much of his flames now that he'd used that attack, especially considering it was taking every ounce of strength he had to stay conscious.  He looked up, hoping to see nothing but a burnt remnant of the villain, but to his dismay, he saw nothing of the sort.

The giant man stood, fibers of his body slowly replacing themselves, the burnt, charred, and melted parts of his body beginning to replenish.  The creature seemed to laugh at their futile attempts.

"How is he still standing?" Angel Blade gasped in disbelief.

"We still have a chance," Deku assured them.  "His regeneration is a lot slower, look!  We can still do this!"

The heroes realized he was right.  Although Shigaraki was still regenerating, it was exponentially slower than it had been before.  That meant if they could inflict enough damage fast enough, he wouldn't be able to heal himself anymore.

Deku leaped into action, his body twirling through the air as he landed a full powered kick to the monster's jaw.  Shigaraki recoiled, being knocked sideways by the force.  Angel Blade kicked off the ground, gliding through the air with determination, slicing down on the beast with her blazing scythe.  She continued to pound him, one after another blow, as Deku did the same, leaping about, kicking and punching wherever there was an opening.  His movements kicked up massive shifts in air pressure around him, but Angel Blade maneuvered with them easily, using them to her advantage for speed or power.  She had trained with her friend a lot over the years, and even though she had only used her quirk's true form in front of him once before, she knew his tactics and movements very well.

Ground Zero stood back for the moment, watching the fight with a keen eye and waiting for the opportunity to use his second gauntlet.  He could only store up enough for two blasts, and he couldn't afford to waste his second one.

"You aren't gonna pass out on me, are you Icy Hot?" the blonde asked his weakened friend.

Shoto shook his head, grimacing.  "That attack weakened my strength considerably," he said slowly.  "I won't be able to use my fire much but I can still fight."

"Good.  Just don't get yourself killed."

With that remark, Ground Zero rejoined the fight, using small explosions to distract Shigaraki and throw him off balance.  Shoto pushed through the pain and managed to throw his ice in wherever he could, stalling attacks and blocking blows, but they were far from as powerful or as fast as his glaciers had been before.

Shigaraki was still fighting back, seemingly growing agitated at the increased power and number of blows he was taking, but he still wasn't backing down.  Angel Blade realized that the only thing that seemed to stall and weaken him enough to continually inflict damage was fire, whether it be hers, Shoto's, or Ground Zero's.  She came up with a plan, a risky one.

"Ground Zero!" she called as the black-clad hero landed a few yards away from the fight after having emitted another explosion.  "Follow my lead.  When I say, use your gauntlet!"

He didn't question or argue; he knew that they were desperate, and whatever she was planning was better than no plan at all.

"Deku!" she called down to the green-haired boy below her.  "Keep his arms occupied!"

Deku nodded, leaping up and landing another kick down on the monster's shoulder, momentarily dislocating it before it healed itself again.  Their original number of 5 had been shot down to 4, and that 4th member of the team was injured and weakened.  They had to do something, fast, before there was no one left to fight at all.

As Deku kept Shigaraki's attention, Angel Blade soared through the air, landing on the villain's shoulders, her scythe pulled against his neck in a choke hold.  She took a deep breath and released all of her power, letting her flames scorch hotter than ever before.  Deku leaped too and fro, keeping the monster's hands and arms away from snatching his friend from her hold on him, and she continued to push her flame power.  She couldn't reach temperatures like Shoto's, but she hoped that with the direct contact and his weakened state, it would be enough to push him over the edge.

Angel Blade suddenly felt a searing pain as Shigaraki grew spikes out of his back, one of them impaling her leg.  She felt the sticky warm blood run down her leg, but she refused to let go.  The villain began to squirm harder, doing his damnedest to get her off of him, but she wouldn't budge.

Just as she felt her fire power begin to wan, she looked up at Ground Zero who stood at the ready.  "Do it!" She screamed.  "Now!"

She was in the way, and both of them knew it, but he understood what she was doing.  She had to hold on until the very last second in order to keep him from regenerating before the blow.  Ground Zero clenched his jaw, taking off towards the monster at full speed.  He closed in, 20 meters, 10 meters, five, three.  Just as he reached the sweet spot to release the explosion, Angel Blade released her hold, dropping just in time to avoid the brunt of it.

But it didn't work the way she'd planned.  Just as Ground Zero pulled the pin on his gauntlet, a spike protruded from the creature's shoulder, slamming into the hero, throwing off his aim and sending him flying backwards.  The misaimed blast caught Angel Blade in the back, the force throwing her through the air and scorching her skin.  She collided with the ground harshly several meters away.

She gasped in pain, looking up through the haze to see the aftermath of her failed plan.  Ground Zero lie in an unconscious heap, having been knocked into the side of the crater, his gauntlets destroyed and hero costume torn and dirtied.  Shoto was still kneeling on the ground a small distance away, his injured arm held close to his body as he watched in horror as his friends were all simultaneously knocked down.  Deku had also been hit by the blast, although not as bad, and he managed to stand up, costume slightly scorched.

Angel Blade grabbed ahold of her scythe, forcing herself into a standing position, favoring her bleeding leg.  She stared through the hazy smoke, and felt as though she might collapse in anguish.  The blast and her flames had done damage; the villain before her was scorched almost beyond recognition, small chunks of his body completely burned away, but to the heroes' dismay, he was still standing.

What else was there to do?  They were injured and running on empty, and it took everything they had just to have done what they had.

Shigaraki's wild eyes landed on the annoying girl that had pinned him with the scythe, and he suddenly gained tunnel vision, charging at her in a furry.  His fist flew at her faster than she could react, and she tried to raise her scythe to parry, but she knew that it was a failed effort.  A blow like that, in her state, would kill her.

"Ava!" A voice tore through the night as a rush of wind blasted the girl off balance.  In a blur, the green haired hero rushed to her aid, determined to protect his friend. He raised his arms, legs digging into the ground to block the force of the villain's blow, but in his desperation to get to her, he didn't see the other arm coming, this one forming into a malformed blade.

Angel Blade became aware of something wet splashing her face, and dizzy from the force that had knocked her over, she looked up, making out the silhouette of her best friend, standing over her in defense, a large blade impaled in his abdomen, running the hero through.

"I-Izuku?" She breathed, barely above a whisper. She couldn't believe her eyes, seeing the dark liquid staining his costume and the shiny surface of the blade, glistening red with his blood. He had saved her, but at the cost of himself.

"I-I'm not... I'm not... done!" The young hero said, looking up through the haze of pain. He knew his injury was bad, and he knew he should've been scared, fearing for his life, but in that moment, he felt nothing but determination. He had to win. If he didn't, his friends would die and the city would be destroyed. Hero society would collapse, and everything he'd worked so hard for would be gone. Shigaraki couldn't win. He wouldn't let him.

A fist flew, nailing the villain in the face and forcing him to step back, removing the blade from Deku's body. Deku took his stance. "This isn't over until I'm dead!" He shouted.

Angel Blade watched in awe and terror as her friend unleashed a frenzy of power, throwing punches and kicks in a flurry of attacks, moving so fast that they were a blur. She gripped the ground, trying to keep from being blown away by the massive wind pressure. It was a sight to behold, the young hero fighting tooth and nail, each blow stronger than the last, and she realized something.

Deku was using more than 100% of his power.

In his desperation and determination, he had surpassed his quirk's limit, pounding the villain again and again, targeting every weak spot he could find. He was using every once of strength he had to win.

Deku could feel his consciousness beginning to fade, his vision going in and out of haziness, but his power wasn't stopping. He had to finish it, now. Deku raised his fist, forcing all of his remaining power into his arm, and he swung it upwards, letting out the loudest battle cry he'd ever screamed in his life.

"PLUS ULTRAAAA!"

His fist collided with Shigaraki's chin, knocking the villain upwards and backwards. He stumbled, eyes fogging over, before he collapsed to the ground, out cold.

Deku panted, a gloved hand reaching up in a fist, striking a winning pose. They couldn't hear them, but Angel Blade knew that the world was cheering for her friend, the hero Deku, who'd saved them all.

Within seconds of his victory, Deku suddenly felt dizziness overtake him, and without warning, he collapsed, blood pooling on the ground around him.

A shrill voice cut through the night, echoing through the abandoned streets of Tokyo, a voice of fear and desperation.

"Izuku!"