#tw assassination attempt

[masked-kitsune]

Danny Phantom Separate au

In this au Danny and Phantom are two separate entities. The two made a deal during Danny's portal accident. Danny was given a few basic powers, mainly intangiblity and invisibility. Phantom is the banished son of Paraih Dark. Phantom was starting to fade when Danny encountered him in the newly active portal. The two were both dying and struck a desperate deal to help each survive and so Phantom's core turned into an amulet that Danny now wears around his neck allowing the two to switch places quickly with their usual transformation. It's sorta like a Yami and Yugi situation for the two of them.

•Sam and Tucker actually don't know about Danny and Phantom being two separate beings, they assumed they're the same since Danny always wears the amulet and he never bothered to correct them. They're proven wrong about this assumption during memory blank

•Identity crisis was the result of the two fighting. The Fenton ghost catcher gave the two enough charge to be separated with some issues

•Danny learns that he and Phantom can temporarily turn into the other with enough of an ectoplasmic charge

•Danny could tell something was off about Phantom during the circus Gothica incident but didn't immediately chalk it up to mind control until Lancer was locked in a closet.

•Memory blank caused them to lose their connection which in turn caused them to lose their memories alongside the tampering of Desiree with her magic due to the wish Sam made. They had to relearn a few things especially after Sam made her counter wish

•Dani was the result of Vlad trying to clone Danny without knowing that he and Phantom weren't the same person which resulted in Dani and the other clones being extremely unstable

•Vlad is still a halfa due to his ectoacne

•Dan is the result of Phantom being corrupted when Vlad stole the amulet off Danny during the events of the ultimate enemy and the halfa trying to use the amulet. Danny tried to save Phantom which resulted in the teen's death, Vlad's ghost half being absorbed into the amulet and a weakened Phantom being overwhelmed and absorbed by the evil ghost half.

•Clockwork eventually removed the time medallion from Danny's chest

•Clockwork is Phantom's other parent and ends up as a father figure/mentor to Danny

•Danny becomes part ghost due to Phantom

•Phantom shows some of his real power during his fight against Paraih Dark since he manages to briefly send Amity Park back to the real world from the ghost zone. The fight took a toll on both Phantom and Danny. It was more of an emotional toll for Phantom while the physical toll went to Danny

•Phantom remembers bits and pieces of his life in the ghost zone. Phantom is 1400 in human years and is 14 in ghost years

•Paraih went mad due to a poisoning attempt by an observatant when one made a bid for power after sealing Clockwork in the clock tower with a powerful artifact alongside Phantom. He was told his husband and son were lost and in his grief drank the blood blossom wine that ended with him going mad and leading to him needing to be sealed. The observatants cast the traitor into the deepest darkest parts of the ghost zone as punishment

•Phantom leans all of this via Clockwork

•Thunderstorms are hard on both Phantom and Danny

•Phantom was poisoned in a ghostly assassination attempt

•Skulker was hired by said assassin at first and then by Vlad

•Phantom being the prince was kept a secret from the rest of the zone except for Frostbite in the far frozen

•Danny keeps the amulet tucked in his shirt to avoid his parents equipment from pin pointing it

•The Fenton parents don't know about either portal incident

[Feel free to add more to this. It'll be interesting seeing what others come up with including crossovers, just nothing too extreme]

[linkedkeysau-official]

Finally finished this!

Chapters: 6

Rating: Teen and up

Warnings: assassination attempt, poison, coma, death (temporary)

When the Chain's reliable healer falls seriously ill, the chain comes together and falls apart simultaneously trying to find a way to help him.

Or...

Hyrule eats a cookie and fucking dies.

Meant to accompany Whumptober 2022 prompts Breaking Point ** and Pick your Poison *

*set before the events of Feysbane

**set between chapters 2 and 3

[martuzzio]

Simon's met (and killed) a lot of interesting people in his life. This "Soap" person might be the most... interesting yet.

(A continuation of my Medieval Knight!Soap and Mercenary!Ghost enemies to lovers idea)

Check out more Medieval 141 here

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Numéro 23

Part 2

Guess what, ya girl finished a snippet on the plane!!

Words: 1.28 k

TW: Violence, bone fracture, slightly depressed and pretty anxious hero, questionable agency, bone fracture, guns, attempted murders, restraint mentioned

The file was dropped onto their desk curtly, no words spoken, like every other assignment Hero got. Their newest target didn't have a name, no alias of some sort, and the picture of them had shown them fully masked in a sleek, black suit, no inch of skin showing; a faceless caricature. However, their kill count, in three digits, was important enough that any other details seemed inconsequential next to it.

Besides, Hero had been taught to treat their targets more like tasks than people. 

So the crime-fighter trained till they were left dead on their feet, till their knuckles were all ripped skin and covered in bloodstains, till their exhausted muscles felt like they were on fire. 

“Hero! Don’t you think you’re going a little overkill, boss?” Sidekick asked, folding their arms across their chest and leaning against the doorframe.

The young hero was the closest thing to a light in the agency’s pitch black darkness; the soul that gave life to a lifeless place, like a flame lighting the slowly dwindling, half-melted candle that was the older crime-fighter’s life. 

“I. . .can’t, Sidekick,” the hero replied breathlessly, hauling their form up for yet another pull-up, having done so many that they’d lost count. “This new target is unlike all the others before the-”

“Yeah yeah, but when are you not being paranoid about one of your enemies?” the teenager replied, cutting them off. 

“Their kill count is in three digits,” the crime-stopper retorted almost impatiently.

“Bloody hell,” Sidekick interjected, eyes going wide.

“Watch your language,” Hero chided, but a sly smirk danced across their face. 

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting that, but what good will it do if you show up to fight this bloody - sorry - serial killer exhausted? Weren’t you the one who kept lecturing me on the importance of rest for maximum work efficiency?”

The hero may have been stubborn, but they realised their protegé was right. They couldn't risk showing up to fight someone like their mystery killer while tired, so they decided to make their way home.

Normally, a hot bath would easily clear their head. Sure, they could still feel the tension blissfully seep from their form, the warmth relaxing overworked muscles, but their mind remained a raging firestorm of anxiety. It frustrated them how they couldn't even enjoy something this simple, the one moment where they no longer had to think or be whatever the hell they needed to be at the moment. "At least I smell nice," they scoffed, wishing to get this over with much faster. 

They let out a heavy sigh, leaving the tub and slipping into a bathrobe, trudging to the desk in their room to use the old, but still functional laptop. Ironically, being a hero barely payed for rent. 

For someone so high and mighty, their little terrorist wasn't completely difficult to find. Or maybe the hero was really a 'natural with the keyboard', since it had taken them a bit of hacking to find their target. Who's to say? 

Changing into their suit, Hero stared at their reflection with such intensity, that it would look to most people like an attempt to shatter it to a thousand shards by just looking at it. In reality, their own harsh gaze bore into the dark corners of their mind, wondering for the umpteenth time if they were enough. It didn't matter because they'd still have to do this anyway, whatever the cost.

"Target spotted," they whispered into their comm, standing on their knees for long enough that their muscles ached, waiting for their enemy deigned to show up. 

"I will engage now." 

The killer's movements resembled that of a panther, and the crime-fighter would have been lying if they'd denied finding it graceful. They were fast and agile, almost impossible to keep up with, not even giving them the chance to reach for the gun in their waistband. But the hero was no slouch either. They aimed a harsh kick to their enemy's shins, their body slamming into the asphalt with an audible thud. Still, the figure in black remained undeterred, kicking the crime-stopper on top of them in the ribs, sending them toppling down across the street, making their head throb and effectively destroying their flimsy communicator.

The hero swore, muttering something ironically much more profane than what they'd chastise their sidekick for, but they rolled away, out of the bastard's reach, quickly getting back on their feet. Their assailant was quick on their feet, chasing after them, but Hero was faster. They'd managed to slip behind an old building, trying to quiet their laboured breathing. They slowly reached for the gun in their waistband, removing the old magazine and replacing it with a new, loaded one.

They waited painstakingly for their target to reach the perfect spot.

Bang. They fired, aiming for the kill, three perfect shots. 

Except the bastard was wearing bullet-proof armour, the bullets ricocheting off of them uselessly. They were certain that underneath their dark cowl, the criminal must have had an infuriatingly smug smirk on their face, but right then, they recieved an entirely self-satisfied tilt of the head to the side. 

Their only option was to destroy a piece of the armour and shoot them there. 

The fight between them continued being a draw, one striking, their opponent blocking, and neither causing any real damage. Until the killer had managed to back Hero into a corner, kicking them to the ground and twisting their leg into a horrid angle, the crime-fighter crying out in pain as a grotesque crack rang in their ears. Tears sprang in their eyes and with whatever little movement they could manage, they furiously ripped their nemesis's mask off.

It wasn't the face of a stranger, like they'd expected, nor was it the face of someone entirely close to them, not that there were many people, aside from their sidekick, who obviously wasn't the ruthless murderer before, instead, it was their quiet lab partner from college, Villain, the one that sat next to them every day, brought them coffee and the occasional dessert, and doodled silly cartoons in their notebook to keep them both sane during boring classes, the closest thing they had to a friend that had nothing to do with the agency.

Their mouth was left agape, their eyes wide, their whole world spinning, but Villain didn’t even blink. They fired, straight into the hero's chest, utterly remorseless, no readable expression on their stone hard face.

Hero woke up. Woke up? What the hell? But Villain had killed them, yet here they were, lying on a soft mattress underneath a wonderfully thick comforter, with their leg in a cast, bandages crisscrossed across their chest. The only thing ruining the strangely mellow coziness they felt (possibly painkilling drugs) was the fact that they were handcuffed to the nighstand. 

The bullet had missed their heart. But surely an expert marksman like Villain wouldn't miss, right? This, for some strange reason, was intentional. 

We like to believe that our expectations have a foundation in truth, that they are of considerable value, that they can have even the slightest effect on any future outcomes. Yet, that is a fool's dream, a fruitless effort to calm a racing mind in fear of the unknown. Just when you are at the peak of your certainty, when you fully believe your fate is sealed, a spontaneous twist, the slightest change sets you on a path you were never aware existed. Our choices, our words, our actions have meaning, yet they only hold the power of a few tidal waves in the vast unpredictable ocean that is our future because destiny is a weapon one can only hope to master.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @usernotfound000 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @shr3ya @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

[lily-drake]

The Birds Baby Bug

Chapter 1

TW: Mention of attempted suicide

Ao3

Marinette: 10 Tim: 19

The halls were a blur as she ran past them as quickly as she could on her shaky legs.  All of them seemed to blend together, though some of the doors turned into different colors signifying what their purpose was supposed to be.  Her door was red and yellow.  Her door, and so many others’, was a curse she had finally been able to break free from.  She swallowed the bile that climbed up her throat when she thought of the things they did to her behind those doors.  The needles, the scent of bleach, and…no!  She couldn’t think about that now.  She needed to run, run, RUN!  She could feel the magic that flowed through her, it wanted to escape, to be used, but she shoved it down.  The entire reason she was here was because of the magic, the curse that flowed through her very blood.  Blood they constantly took and took and took from her.  

Her body was weak, she didn’t know where she was going or how she had even gotten this far.  She was hungry, her limbs ached , her head pounded in time with her racing heart, but she wouldn’t slow down.  If she dared to stop moving for even a second she might as well have signed her own death certificate.  Her dark unkempt hair flew behind her, falling into her wild blue eyes before whipping back when she turned a corner.  

She needed to escape.  She needed to get out.  She knows that if she’s caught that she won’t be killed, she knows that she will wish that they had killed her by the end of the punishment.  She quickly took another corner, bare feet pounding against the cold stone floor, yet they still barely made a sound.  She could feel the spark of her magic at her fingertips, begging to be released as adrenaline pulsed through her system, feeding the spark.  But she couldn’t.  She didn’t know what would happen if she let even the smallest speck loose.  

It didn’t matter though, because as she took the corner she bowled into someone knocking both of them over due to her velocity.  Her body ached from both the force of the fall and the magic that crawled at her skin like ants, fighting to be released.  She tried to push herself up, tried to move so that she could get her former momentum back, but she couldn’t.  She couldn’t hear the footsteps, but she felt their presence, could hear the breath of the assassins that were coming to retrieve her.  She didn’t want to go back, she would rather die than go back!  She could feel the outline of a sheathed knife pressing into her side, so with nimble fingers she grabbed it and held it to her chest, right above her heart.

She watched all of the dark shadows pause, the person behind her as still as a statue.

“I’ll do it!”  She screamed almost hysterically, her hands shaking despite her best efforts.  “Don’t come closer!  I won’t go with you again!  I won’t be used anymore!”

She kept the tip of the knife pressed to her chest, the small, sharp point nearly breaking her skin.  Her breathing was quick as she stared around the circle of ninjas.  The man in the green cape, she had never learned his name, was nowhere in sight.  She could feel one of the men cloaked like shadows step forward.  He continued to creep closer, and closer, and with all of the nerve she could muster she lifted the small blade and thrust it towards her chest.

Hope, excitement danced in her mind, at last this torment was about to come to an end.  But it was swiped away as the man she had forgotten that she was still sitting atop of rolled over and pinned her to the floor.  Shock filled her before she realized what was happening and tears fell down her cheeks.  The pulsing thrum of her magic burned, it burned so badly she felt like she was set ablaze, she hoped that it would kill her from its intensity alone.  But it didn’t.  The eyes that looked down at her were wide and frantic, filled with fear and a deep sadness.  She hated it.

“Leave, I’ll take care of this.”

She wanted to roll her eyes, but she could feel the shadows creep away on their silent feet, following his command.  The man stared at her a few moments longer before sitting up, legs still straddled around her waist.

“I’m going to get off you now.  I don’t know who you are or what they are after you for, but please don’t run.”

Marinette glared at him, if she had any moisture left in her mouth she would spit at him, but the rest of her moisture left when her tears had fallen.  His warning didn’t matter though, she doubted that she even had the strength to move.  After a few moments she felt the weight begin to lift and despite every nerve, every thought telling her to run , she couldn’t push herself up.

When the boy was fully off of her she nearly breathed a sigh of relief as the agonizing pain slowly began to recede.  The man—no, a boy—stared at her with wide, concerned eyes, though she could see his curiosity as bright as day (she hadn’t seen the sun in so long…).  He tilted his head slightly, which created the perfect angle for her to truly see his face in the torchlight. 

He had hair dark as night, eyes as blue as the sky, and skin as pale as clouds on a summer day.  At least, that’s what she thought as she hadn’t seen the night in probably years…

“Hey, a’e ‘u ok’y?”

Everything was starting to blur together, his voice fading in and out as her body shut down.  Not again, please not again!  She needed to get up, she needed to get out of here once and for all.  Even if they were telling the truth when they said they killed her family, that there was a tracker in her blood, chemicals running through her that would cause her death if she ever tried to escape by herself.  

Her body was heavy as it laid across the stone floor, the man’s desperate gaze never leaving her.  She thought he might be trying to talk to her, but her ears were ringing too loudly for her to hear everything.  Each blink grew heavier and heavier until it all went dark.  The last of her control on her magic slipped and she could feel it flow out of her like a fast running stream.  Then everything went dark.

_______ Tim stared at the small girl in both shock and horror.  Quickly he went to check her pulse point and was relieved when he felt her pulse.  It was slower than was normal, but not deathly so.  Once he had made sure that she was truly okay, he studied the small girl to see if he could find any clues for who she could be.  

She had long dark dark hair covered in tangles and knots like it hadn’t been brushed in years.  Her skin was pale, paler than his (and that was saying something), he couldn’t see her eyes but he was pretty sure from his brief glances that they were some shade of blue.  She was wearing a typical dark blue hospital gown that went just above her ankles.  The gown itself was large and flowy making it hard for him to see her rib cage without having to touch her.  Her skin was littered with small red dots as if she had been stuck with multiple needles.  Each of the dots were at different stages of healing making him wonder how long she had been here.  With the utmost gentleness he picked up her wrist and noticed the large cuff-like bruises that wrapped around her wrists; a light purple with specks of greens and yellows.  They had barely begun to heal.  When he laid a gentle hand against her ribs he nearly pulled back as he could feel her ribs even through the thin fabric.  Tim was going to be sick.

The girl could be older than 8, but depending on how long she’s been here her growth could have stunted placing her at maybe 10 or 11.

He kept his hand against her chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest, but there was something else.  She was hot, burning even.  It was unnatural, wrong.  A tingly sensation crept up through his arm and Tim quickly shot his hand back, holding it close to his chest.  He could feel an invisible energy moving along his body easing his tense and sore body, then there was a pain in the right side of his body.  He held back the panicked and pain filled noises that threatened to escape his throat.  Maybe there was a reason the other leaguers were after her, maybe he should have let one of them stay.

The pain only lasted for a minute at most, and then it was gone.  And he didn’t just mean the sudden pain in his abdomen, but all of the physical aches and pains he had received from his training and missions.  In fact, it felt like something internally was different.  He glanced at the small child, still asleep, before he carefully lifted his shirt to look at his chest.  All of his scars were…gone.  Every single one of the scars he had ever received throughout his life, even the cut from his splenectomy, were completely erased from existence.

He looked back at the unconscious girl, so small yet seemingly filled with a large power.  She was a meta, and it looked like she had some sort of healing power.  Tim wondered why until he remembered the Lazarus Pit and its side effects.  Ra’s owns the pits; but if he could find a person, or rather a power, that could heal him without the pit and its side effects, he would do anything to extract it for himself.  

The best thing for him to do would be to take and hide her in his room, then come up with some sort of extraction plan while Ra’s was still gone.  But if Ra’s were to find out that he stole one of his “prizes” he would stop helping Tim; which would make it 10x harder to destroy The League of Assassins from the inside out.  

Tim glanced down at the small unconscious child, body littered in scars of her own, none healed despite what just happened.  Bruce’s face flashed in the front of his mind, and he knew that Bruce would never forgive him—nor would he forgive himself—if he didn’t help this child right away. 

Tim took a steadying breath, and carefully picked the small girl up.  He expected for there to be something else, something to what he had just experienced.  But there was nothing; in fact the only thing that happened was she subconsciously leaned against him.  His heart melted, a protective surge running through him as he hugged the small girl closer.  He could feel each and everyone of her ribs against his sternum, her face hallowed out with dark circles he hadn’t noticed before under her eyes.  She looked dead, but she was breathing, and that’s all that mattered.  At least that’s what he kept repeating to himself.  He just needed to get to his room, request extra food and water, then he’ll come up with a plan.  He just needed to get her to his room first.

_______ Tim didn’t have a plan.  The girl was still asleep, tucked into his bed barely moving.  Tim was currently hacking through firewall after firewall to discover where Ra’s kept his files on the child.  Ra’s might be old-fashioned with his methods—he definitely had a paper file somewhere—but he also knew that the man knew when he needed to adapt.  After hours of hacking, the child still asleep, he finally broke through the correct wall and was honestly surprised at the amount of information that began to download to his laptop.

Marinette Gina Dupain-Cheng (Test Subject E131): 

Immediately, the name set off an alarm bell in the back of his mind, though he wasn’t sure why yet.

Meta Gene: Confirmed  Age: 7 Sex: Female Parents: Deceased Power: Life & Creation Trigger: Currently Unknown 

Test #1                    Conducted June 6, 2016 18:35 

This was three years ago.  Another alarm bell, and a shiver down his spine at the implications.

Before the test began one sample of 5 mL of blood was extracted as the control group while E131 was asleep.  The subject had a heart monitor attached at the pulse point at the right bicep.  Average vital patterns ranged from 86-98 BPM.  When they awoke, tests immediately began.  This test was specifically focused on narrowing out and separating the Meta Gene for further observation.  Past observations of the subject have shown that they hold the power to revive dying and even completely dead plant life, even renewing the soil life.   

Subject E131 was locked in a 80cmx80cm room with no restraints and in the same clothes they arrived in.  Subject awoke at 18:53 alarmed, vitals immediately spiked up to an average of 110-120 BPM.  Subject immediately began to call for their parents for two minutes and twenty-five seconds.  During this time E131 began to cry hysterically, no change to the BPM. 

Tim paused his reading, he needed to take a breath.  This was wrong, this was all so wrong.  She’s just a child, she was seven when all of this began.  But he needed to keep going, he needed to know what had happened so that he could properly help her.

When it appeared that her BPM was going down, it was decided that at 18:58 there would be another blood draw while the subject was conscious.  When medical entered the room, subjects BPM spiked once more.  Subject tried to evade medical, including fighting back when restrained, spiking the BPM to 115-135.  Another 5 mL of blood was taken before the subject was left alone. 

Blood work:

Blood Type: A+ Meta Gene: Dominant Resting Systolic Blood Pressure Average: 93 Resting Diastolic Blood Pressure Average: 76 Stressed Systolic Blood Pressure Average: 127 Stressed Systolic Blood Pressure Average: 86 

Analysis: 

It was found that when the subject was asleep the gene was left neutral, floating through the bloodstream and helping the cells in the body reproduce and remain healthy. The blood that was taken when Subject E131 was on high alert showed a higher amount of the gene being produced, as though protecting the host.  .05 mL of blood from each vial were placed in the soil of two different pots, both with the same dead plant and soil.  The plant with resting blood revived in 30 minutes while the plant with the stressed blood revived in 15 minutes.  It begs the question, what else can E131’s blood revive, what are the side effects, what triggers their power, and how fast can we make the revival become? 

Tim felt sick.  Three years, she had gone through this for three. Years.   But he had to know more, he needed to know what exactly he needed to do to get back at Ra’s for these horrors.

Marinette Gina Dupain-Cheng (Test Subject E131): Meta Gene: Confirmed  Age: 8 Sex: Female Parents: Deceased Power: Life & Creation Trigger: Emotion Based 

Test #96                    Conducted December 25, 2017 14:15 

Subject E131 no longer has the same emotional reaction to the video of her parents death.  Where once they would fly into a fit of rage and sorrow, creating life out of seemingly nothing; they remain numb and limp.  Today we will try something new.  Something more advanced now that we see the subject's basic capabilities.  

Subject was placed in a room full of small animals ranging from chicks, to rabbits, and a small tabby kitten.  The subject was slow to trust the animals, but after nearly thirty minutes of nothing happening, they began to play with the animals.  It was agreed upon that the subject be allowed to spend time with the animals for three hours.  While the subject was in a state of bliss, blood was pulled from E131 from the automatic needle attached to their bicep.  Subject showed no reaction to the extraction. 

Once the three hours ended, all animals were killed right in front of E131.  Subject had the intended reaction as they began to scream and cry, emotions spiking into a high.  Leaguer, who was heavily injured in battle, was sent into the room while E131 was at the peak of their emotional state.  When the Leaguer exited the room five minutes late, they were completely healed¹ .   

Analysis: 

We have taken the blood samples from the two emotional peaks and added them into two different samples of the pit before using the pit and blood concoction on two dead rabbits of the same height and weight.  The rabbit with the distressed blood sample created a single heartbeat in the dead rabbit before it flatlines once more while the one where the subject was happy created no signs of life.  The hypothesis was that the subject's heart rate did not reach the same peaks as the fear sample.  More tests will be conducted around this.

*Footnote¹ Leaguer was put under observation for two months with biweekly check-ups.  There were no harmful side effects, but the Leaguer seemed to have a higher pain tolerance and faster healing process for a short period of time.  

Tim read and read and read through each and every report.  Electrocution, starvation, hypnosis, forced to watch death, etc.

Test #254                    Conducted April 2, 2018 14:15 

Subject was so distressed that a dead animal that was hidden in the corner was revived from the dead.  …Sample showed the highest positive effects in removing pit side effects. 

Test #317                    Conducted July 13, 2019 01:15 

Age: 10 

This was last week.

Subject has been shown to wield more promising results in a dream-like state.  10 mL of Fear Gas obtained from Scarecrow from Gotham, New Jersey USA was used on the subject.  Emotional response was not as high as it was as high as it was in Test #315 despite a higher amount of gas being released.  Subject attempted to stab herself with an imaginary knife.  …Blood from peak emotional outburst was able to revive a dead rabbit with no help from the Lazarus Pit.  Subject E131 will have their blood extracted and placed into the Lazarus Pits in two weeks time.  The next and final test will see if emotional outburst will be able to revive a human from the dead without blood sample or Lazarus help. 

Tears streamed down Tim’s cheeks in a never ending stream.  How-how was anybody this heartless, this cruel?  How was she still alive?!  Tim turned to look at the small child only to see them staring right back at him.  

“Hey.”  Tim whispered, his voice cracking slightly.  He didn’t care though, what mattered was making sure that he saved this small child and made sure that Ra’s would never be able to get his disgusting hands on her ever again.  The child didn’t speak, only watched him with wide, fear filled eyes.  

“Are you thirsty?  I had some food and water brought up for when you woke up.”  The only reaction he got was her pulling the covers closer to her chest.  Slowly Tim stood up, telegraphing each of his movements as he approached the dresser next to the bed where the food and water were located.  “Do you want me to try it first?”

Hesitantly she nodded.  Tim gave her a small encouraging smile before he took a large sip of the water and swallowed it.  He waited a few minutes for her to see that there were no side effects from it before slowly placing it back on the dresser for her to take by herself.  Then he picked up the food, which consisted of rice and beans with a little bit of some sort of meat, and mixed it together before getting a bit of everything on his fork and taking another large bite.  Once again they waited about five minutes before he set the plate back on the dresser and he took a few steps back.  

He watched her eat, she appeared almost ravenous, so much so he had to remind her to slow down a few times worried that she’d choke.  Tim’s heart ached with the fierce want, no need to protect this small vulnerable child.  He was 19, he could legally adopt her, especially since the League had taken both of her parents, meaning she was an orphan.  But he was getting ahead of himself, before he could even plan giving her a new life, a life that she deserved, he needed to find a way to get her out of here without being on the receiving end of Ra’s rage.

“More?”  She whispered.  Her voice was cracked, brittle sounding.  It broke his heart, and he prayed to whatever God existed that the damage could be repaired.  

“I can’t get you any more food right now.  You're too malnourished, and if I give you more than that you could get really sick.  I can get you another cup of water though, but that will have to do so we don’t accidentally cause your electrolytes to crash.”

The small girl nodded as if she understood him, but he didn’t think she fully did, after all she still only had the schooling of a first or second grader.  There weren’t any files that showed they had tried to school her after all.  

“Wh-”, she fell into a coughing fit, and it took everything inside of Tim to stop him from rushing to her side.  “What’s your name?”  She croaked out.  Blue eyes dull and full of pain.

“I’m Tim.”  He whispered, trying to encourage her to do the same so she didn’t hurt her voice anymore.  

“Why are you here?”  She whispered back.  That small gesture eased some of the weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying.

“I’m trying to find my dad, and they’re offering me help.  How did you know I wasn’t one of the ninjas?”  He asked softly, making his voice only sound curious.

She pointed to her face before replying, “No mask, different robes, and y-you talk to me.”

Marinette fell into another coughing fit after that, her skin looking even paler than when he had first found her.  Tim clenched his fist against his knees as he was seated on the floor.  Was this what Bruce felt when he saw Dick and Jason?  This overwhelming need to protect such a small child when so much bad has already consumed their life?  Did Bruce ever feel this way about him?

“What’s your name?”  He asked, he didn’t need her knowing that he knew about the worst years of her life.

“E-...No, that wasn’t…Ma-Marientte.  Mama always called me Marinette.”

Tim now understood why Jason did what he did.  He wanted to kill these Ba*, but more than that he wanted them to feel the same agony they made her feel first.  Then suddenly a face flashed before his eyes followed by a name, and hours and hours of research that lead to a dead end.  A Paris cold case he had stumbled upon a few years ago when he was checking in on the city where he received a good portion of his training.  

Marinette Gina Dupain-Cheng, presumed dead as her parents and grandmother were brutally murdered by an unknown person for unknown reasons.  Only problem was, they had never found Marinette’s body.  But he had, and she was still alive .  

“I’m going to get you out of here.”  He whispered, shocking the young girl as her eyes seemed to grow as wide as saucers.

“I’m going to get you to safety and you’ll never have to worry about whether or not you’ll be another experiment again.  I’m sorry it took me this long to find you,” Tears began to well in his eyes.  If only he’d been smarter, there had to have been something that pointed to the League that he had overlooked.  Bruce would be so disappointed in him, Ra’s was probably laughing his a* off.  “I’ll take care of you.  I will protect you.  I won’t let them hurt you ever again.”

She just stared at him, face blank and passive.  It was as if she were seeing something that he simply could not.  Then tears spilled from her eyes and Tim couldn’t restrain himself as he moved closer to the small child, but never touching her.  But it didn’t matter because she launched herself at him, holding onto his shirt in a vice-like grip.  Tim quickly wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry.  Tears fell out of his own eyes.

“...You talk to me.” 

When was the last time she had heard anyone but herself, felt a touch from another person that wasn’t cruel or fake, treated as a human being.  He thought back to his own empty house.  The cold haunted rooms that echoed with nothing but the ghost of a 9-year-old boy that wasn’t even living.  Parents that only cared about him when he messed up, only touched in public or as a warning.  

“You’re safe now.  I promise it.”  He whispered, holding the girl as close as he dared in fear of injuring her further.  He would protect her, be the guardian that Bruce was for Jason and Dick.  The shadow that haunts the dreams of those who dare hurt what was his.  Marinette Drake had a nice ring to it, but only if she too agrees.  Jason’s never going to let him live this down.  It would be worth it though, because she would be safe.

Next

Taglist:

@aespades @adrestar @astrynyx @doll246 @queenz-z @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @seraphichana @miraculous-ninjabird @dorkus-minimus @mysticsoulgirl @ritacrow-blog @snow-leopard-777 @fidget-eep @sometandomstuff333 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @shreeing @achaoticmess1 @liquid-luck-00 @buginetye @stainedglassm @prettylittlebutterflie @laurcad123 @iloontjeboontje @heartsong18 @raeuberprinzessin @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @jennifer-rose123 @moon5608 @corporeal-terrestrial @skitarii-alpha-c6-555 @saltysugarysembei @phantom120 @kking13 @depressed-bitchy-demon @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @iamablinkmarvelarmy @fleursroses @izanae

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Jailbreak

for Angstpril, Day 13: Recovery

cw: adult language, death mention, implied suicide attempt (mentioned)

two weeks prior ///// masterlist ///// next

•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•

"Just calm down and we'll talk—"

"I will burn this building to the fucking ground."

Lex had woken up in a panic. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, and his arms were gone. Again. He was in a strange place, with the door closed, locked, again. For a moment, it didn't matter where he was, only that he was trapped.

Then the door opened, and it was Spyglass on the other side. That gave him enough pause to realize he was in a bed, a real bed, and the now-familiar weight of his collar was absent.

But that meant nothing.

She'd locked him up. Taken his arms. Taken his choice, he remembered, recalling how it felt to step off the railing, to crash into the water.

Terrifying. Freeing.

He'd thought it was over, but now he was awake again, and sure, Spyglass always seemed to want to talk his ear off about helping him, and teaming up against Uriah, but if she thought she could keep him captive to make that happen, she had another thing coming.

"You wanna burn this place down?" Spyglass snapped. "Then what's stopping you?"

(Dropping, mopping, sopping.) Nothing. Even as he thought it, he knew the fire wouldn't come, but he couldn't say why. He had no loyalty to the rogues. He'd already risked enough just for the pleasure of leaving them alone.

Spyglass watched him for a moment, as if waiting to see if he'd accept her challenge. When he didn't even move, she let out a heavy sigh. 

"Your collar's gone," she said, and it sounded like she was making an effort to sound calm. "It started malfunctioning when you hit the river, but we got it off."

(Scoff. Cough.) Lex rolled his neck, felt the bandages there, the sore flesh beneath. She was wrong about that one. It wasn't a malfunction, someone had activated his collar as soon as his foot left the ledge. He'd blacked out before he even hit the water.

"Keystone's jailbreaking your arms so Fox can't track you," Spyglass continued. "Soon as he's done, you're free to go."

"Free to go, huh?" He scooted backwards on the bed, until he was leaning against the headboard. "No conditions?"

He was sure she was about to start spouting more bullshit about joining the rogue team and 'making up for his crimes', as if he hadn't paid for them in blood already.

But she shook her head. "No conditions. Just a question." She met his eyes. "What are you gonna do, when you aren't a puppet anymore?"

"I…" What was he supposed to say to that? It seemed like a new tactic. A way to get him angry. Make him swear revenge.

"Don't tell me you'll go crawling back to Uriah anyway."

"No." Never. Uriah probably thought he was dead, and if he had a choice, it'd stay that way.

"That's a start. I'm not trying to make you my friend. But I don't wanna be enemies either." She squeezed her eyes shut. "Just… I don't know. Think about what it is you want."

And then she left, closing the door behind her. He didn't hear it lock.

What I want. What did he want? All he'd wanted for the past year and a half was to get away. From the Tower, from the people who wanted to control him, from Uriah. If everything Spyglass said was true, if he was free, what came next?

He could go back to the Underneath (wreath). Find Chopper. Take new contracts and get back into killing (blood-spilling). He imagined everyone he'd known in Neath thought he was dead too, by now. That's what the headlines had spouted (undoubted), and Lex had never been given a chance to tell them otherwise. (Demise, surprise, surmise, unwise, disguise---)

A knock on the door pulled his attention away from the topic. Another new oddity. When was the last time someone had bothered to knock at all?

The sentiment faded somewhat when the door swung open without waiting for a response.

It was pajama girl. Firebrand. She had two styrofoam cups in her hands, and a vaguely apprehensive look on her face.

"Smoothie?"

It was the last thing he'd expected to hear from the kid who'd launched fireballs at him a few months ago. "What?"

She shrugged. "Me and Celeste just came back from Banana Bash. Figured you might be hungry. You've been asleep for-ever."

Lex eyed the cup. The logo seemed legitimate, but that didn't mean anything. They could have easily mixed in some kind of drug. Maybe 'rescuing' him was a ploy. Maybe they wanted to knock him out and hand him over to Uriah as a peace offering. It'd be the easiest solution to their problems, for sure.

Firebrand rolled her eyes when he didn't answer. "Relax, I'm not trying to poison you." She set one of the cups on the nightstand. "Besides, if we wanted you dead, we would've killed you by now."

Lex almost snorted at the casual way she said it. "Hear that one on TV?"

She scowled. "Maybe I did."

"Think you could?"

"Think I could what?"

"Kill me." How many successful missions had he run by the time he was her age? Young as she was, she'd still had a contract with Titanium.

Firebrand shrugged again. "Maybe not. Bet I could beat you in a fight though."

Lex was struck by a strange urge to laugh. Risked his fucking freedom to save the kid and her team, and now she just wanted to one-up him.

"You think so?" He glanced sideways at the styrofoam cup. He was kinda hungry… "You know I'm fireproof, right?"

"So am I."

"What gives you an edge?"

Firebrand smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know." She took a long drink from her smoothie. "So your name is Cinder, huh?"

"Yes." Lex was unsure where she was going with this. The sudden casual conversation had thrown him off guard. Maybe that's what the group wanted. Maybe they were trying to unbalance him—

"When I first picked my name, I almost picked 'Cinderella'," the kid continued. "So I thought it was funny. Obviously I went with something cooler, but it's funny, right?"

"Sure." Cinderella. She'd better not—

"Maybe you should change yours. It'd be easy. Just add a few letters."

Motherfucker. "Why are you here?" he asked.

"Told you already. I was bringing you a smoothie."

"Why are you still here?"

The shrugging was almost irritating at this point. "Only ever saw you when you broke in that one time. Just wanted to say hi, I guess."

He sighed, leaning back on the headboard. "I attacked your friend, and you 'just wanted to say hi'?" Maybe the smoothie was drugged after all. Maybe she was trying to lull him into a sense of ease, or confuse him, or distract him.

"Don't get me wrong, I was ready to kick your ass back then." She paused, looking down at the cup in her hands. "But when… after y'know, after the other guy left… you just looked kinda sad."

So that's what it all came down to. Another person who felt sorry for him. Seemed that was all Lex could be anymore. A tool to be used, or an object to be pitied. He was sick of it.

"Here's a tip, kid. You can't just feel sorry for every criminal you see who looks sad. You'll lose a lot of fights that way."

"Yeah, whatever. And I didn't say I felt sorry for you." She leaned against the doorframe. "I guess I kinda do, but not because of Uriah Fox or anything." Her hand closed around the doorknob, and she pushed it open, half-stepping into the hall outside.

"It's because you're alone."

וווווווווווווווווווווו×

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing

[mortau]

id just like to say the god of life planned out henris life before he was born and he was supposed to die at 11

and he just said no and killed his would-be murderer instead

and fate tried to overcorrect for 44 years until he took himself out

[warsinmyhead]

CLOSED for @midncghts | Time skip from x

"When's the last time we've done a meal out with the whole family?" his father asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Mayumi and Emerson blinked in surprise and Kaori raised a brow at her husband's sudden cheerfulness. Meanwhile, Hiro managed to keep a neutral expression on his face. This was a joke.

Hiro sensed they were eating out because it was a few blocks from his stepmother's meeting with a potential client – rumored to be a big Korean entertainment company in town for a sold-out concert for one of their groups. He didn't need to bet any money that this company probably was going to say yes to Kaori's company, as they were trusted for private, luxury cars and plush transportation for the wealthy and famous.

Bless his father for trying to be a good father and pointing out that the whole family was together, but Hiro didn't see this as a family meal – especially when everyone had an assigned bodyguard with them. Out of the corner of his eye, Hiro tried to read Taekyung's reaction to his father's comment, but suddenly the sound of a gun going off made him jump, and suddenly, he was nudged under the table they were seated at.

The other patrons were panicking and some of the waitstaff had dropped to the ground in fear.

Hiro blinked as he looked toward the entrance of the restaurant, lips parted slightly. No way was this really happening...

[birchisnotokay]

tws in tags

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

"wow how pathetic it is of a man who isn't much of a fighter to be afraid and want to live in the middle of aggressors invading his lands"

WHY WON'T U JUST GIVE UP AND STOP DEFENDING YOUR LANDS THAT WE'RE INVADING AND ATTACKING ON TOP OF YOU LITERALLY DOING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO US

[wannabe-british-fangirl]

~ books read in 2023 ~

#14: The Burning Page by Genevieve Cogman

The morning light glittered on the glass windows and on the blades of the guillotines in the central square.

Rating: 4/5

[stark-88]

Need Help Finding A Fic

So I think this fic might have been deleted or maybe im just missing it because I cant for the life of me remember who wrote it or what the title of it was.

But all I can remember from it is that Alex and June were at an event? Or maybe it was she had to do damage control for something she had said. And I think Henry might have been over in London at the time?

But when they were walking to the car a gunman had come for them but Alex blocked June. At first Alex doesnt realize he is shot and I think Amy jumped into the backseat to keep pressure on the wound, and June just was freaking out.

I also believe that June was Alexs' POA and had to make medical decisions since he was in a coma? I swear im not going crazy and that this was a fic. If anyone could help me out that would be AMAZING! Ive spent atleast 5 hours searching for this fic, no lie.

[acrosstimeandspace]

ok so this took forever but!! finally i have done all of guda!fae’s different mystic codes! also i added on a pajama and christmas mystic codes bc i think those should be added. also an updated baldr ref too!

[comment-exchange]

294. The Colossal Wreck (Kamen Rider Zi-O)

Title: the colossal Wreck Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43660885 Platform: Ao3 Creator: MarineHaddock Work Type: Fanfiction Fandom: Kamen Rider Zi-O Rating: Explicit Pairing: Heure/Ohma Zi-O Word count: 3759 Warnings: Power dynamic issues, assassination attempts, alternate universe Number of comments (Your replies to comments don’t count into this number): 2 Completion Status: Complete Short summary/description: A King stands, looking upon the desert before him. There are few left at his side, and he can take comfort in only one. Fandom/ship specific tags you want me to add: Souheure Checkword (can be found in the rules): Buch Screenshot of a comment/link of the work you commented on (Unless you are submitting a work in the fandom currently being highlighted): Ides of March

[galactia]

Thinking about poisoning Zhongli again...

[regxlty]

☼☾ ( chad michael murray , 37 , he/him , cis male , hanover 3 ) - have you seen PIETER HANOVER? we’ve heard through the grapevine that they’re FAMILY ORIENTED but also VENGEFUL. when you think of them , you think of A HEARTY LAUGH FILLING A ROOM, A FIGURE HIDDEN BY THE NIGHT'S SHADOW, A MANDOLIN BEING STRUMMED .

Having been born into a prestigious family, Pieter felt from the beginning that he needed to act a certain way, talk a certain way, hell, be a certain way.

He was considered the child of hell, doing what he wanted with little to no care. And the worst part of all? He was a notorious playboy, having enjoyed going to bed with anyone who welcomed him.

Things changed when the young lord was around 25, an assassination attempt causing him to reevaluate his life, finding that he hadn't really done much to be remembered fondly by others

His stubbornness and outspokenness of doing the right thing began to shine during this time and in a way it got in the way of just ignoring blatantly obvious issues that other nobles, and his old self, tended to ignore

He's passionate about what he believes in and while go the extra mile to do just that, at some points not caring about the consequences

One such event of this being his first meeting with Leana De Medici. To say it was love at first sight was cliche but that was truly what happened. He knew the moment he saw her that he was going to make her his wife. And that ended up happening after a brief battle with her betrothal.

He loves being married, having taken his role as her husband very seriously. And while he's still very passionate and outspoken, he's managed to be reigned in a bit by Leana