#*shouting from the rooftops* ITS MID!!!!

[frogfacey]

I'm on that "does this media like women?" poll blog and genuinely the grip that pacific rim has on tumblr users is insane. how the fuck can you say that pacific rim of all movies respects its female cast (consisting of two characters, only one who is relevant)

[tortillamastersblog]

✐ Drained | Kara Danvers ✎

Pairing: Kara Danvers x spider!reader

Warnings: angst, cursing, fighting, mentions injuries, and violence

Summary: Kara solar flaring and putting herself in danger over and over again puts a strain on your already fragile relationship. . .

_______________________________________________

“Y/N?” Alex’s voice in my ear makes me flinch and if it weren’t for the fact that I can literally stick to ceilings and walls I would have slipped off the edge of the roof I’m currently standing on. “You good?”

I sigh and lift my hand to my ear. “Yes, I’m okay. Just stopped a bank robbery.”

It was a fairly easy job, considering the robbers immediately surrendered when they saw me.

“Yeah, I saw it on the news, so. . .”

“So?” I play with the mask in my hands and close my eyes, enjoying the night breeze on my face.

“Are you coming back to the tower, or are you planning on spending the rest of the night on a rooftop?” she asks, her voice full of concern. She can see where I am because of the giant digital map back at the tower. What she doesn’t know though is why I’m here. Judging by the looks she’s given me lately, she knows that something is up, but she has yet to figure out what it is.

I scoff bitterly and slip my mask back on. “It’s not like it would matter anyway.”

“What?”

I take a deep breath and swallow the hurt clawing its way up my throat. “Nothing. Forget I said anything. I’m heading back now.”

There’s a short pause on the other end of the line before Alex says, “Okay. See you in a bit then. Swing safe, little one.”

“We’re the same age, Alex, and I’m literally taller than you.” I deadpan, leaping off the building.

My stomach flutters at the feeling of the wind rushing by and for a moment I forget all about why I was brooding in the first place.

“I’m four days older than you” Alex corrects with a chuckle and I can’t help but smile under my mask as I swing through the city.

“Pff. . . tomayto, tomahto.” I swing from building to building, keeping my eyes and ears open for anything suspicious while I make my way back to the tower.

Alex laughs again, trying to convince me that four days are a significant amount of time only to stop mid sentence when an explosion across the city captures both our attention.

“What was that?” I pivot and start swinging in the direction of the explosion, my spider-senses tingling ominously. Alex ignores me, cursing under her breath and typing furiously on a computer. “Alex!”

“Y/N?” J’onn’s calm voice does nothing to assuage my worry, especially not when I can hear Alex shouting something unintelligible in the background.

“What’s happening, J’onn? What’s going on?” I shout over the noise of traffic as I swing across a bridge.

“It’s Supergirl,” he says. “She got caught in an ambush. We’ve already sent out some backup.”

Kara. . .

My heart clenches at the thought of anything happening to her and I force myself to go faster. My arms burn and I’m panting in no time, but the only thought on my mind is that I have to get to Kara before anything else happens.

“They’re never going to get there in time, J’onn! Do we know who’s responsible for this?” Caught up in my own worry, I miscalculate on of my swings, coming dangerously close to swinging into oncoming traffic.

“We don’t know any details yet, but Lena and Brainy are working on it.”

I clench my jaw and force myself to go even faster when another explosion goes off. “Any word from Kara?”

The short silence that follows gives me the answer I’m dreading before J’onn even admits that communication with Kara has been cut off.

“Fuck!” I ignore whatever else J’onn says after that and perform two powerful swing before finally getting to the docks by the river. Sweat is running down my body below the suit and my lungs are burning.

I land on top of a crane and let my eyes dart all over the place until I spot what I’m looking for.

Below me, standing in a circle around Kara in her super suit are four goons, dressed in black combat gear. They have have strange looking guns pointed at her and I realize that every time Kara uses her heat vision, the guns absorb it before shooting it back at her.

Why isn’t she flying away?!

“Nala, what’s going on down there? Why isn’t she fighting back properly?” I ask the AI in my suit, trying to figure out how best to approach this situation without putting Kara in any more danger.

Nala scans the surrounding area before reporting her findings. “I have detected traces of Kryptonite in the air.”

“Shit. . . And how many hostiles are there?” I ask, only now noticing the way the veins in Kara’s face and hands glow a faint green.

“There are four hostiles at the moment but I have detected three more incoming human heat signatures in a lead-lined truck half a mile from here. ETA forty seconds.”

I jump off the crane and swing to a nearby container closer to the ground. “Fuck! They’re going to take her!”

My heart is pounding in my ears and I know that if I don’t act right now, it’s going to be too late, but I can’t think of a plan when all I can focus on are the yelps that escape Kara every time she takes a hit.

“Thirty seconds.” Nala’s says, her robotic voice as calm and rational as ever. “If you don’t do something within the next five seconds the chances of Supergirl being taken increase from 43% to 97%”

“I know, Nala! Shut up, I’m trying to think!”

A particularly strong blow hits Kara’s side and she drops to one knee with a whimper while one of the goons pulls a pair of bulky handcuffs from his pockets.

They wouldn’t normally be able to restrain Kara, but because she’s weakened and on the brink of solar flaring right now they’ll work on her just like they do on any other human being.

“Twenty seven seconds.” Nala reminds me.

“Argh, fuck!” I’m shaking uncontrollably, not knowing what to do.

“Your time to act is running out in three—“

My eyes dart around frantically, trying to spot something that could help me distract them.

“Two—“

There’s nothing. No pipe, no crate, or anything I could fling at them.

“One—“

Before Nala can finish, I leap off the container and swing right at the group below me.

I can’t fight those goons because they’d outnumber me, so a quick getaway is my only plan of action.

“Heads up!” I shout which makes all of them look up in surprise.

At the sight of me, Kara lets out a broken sob of relief and lifts her arms like we’ve practiced a hundred times before.

She does it just in time because not even a second later I slam into her, wrapping one arm around her waist and picking her up mid swing.

“Gotcha!” I readjust my grip on her and focus on swinging us away as her arms tighten around my shoulders. “Hold on, I’m getting us out of here!”

Kara doesn’t answer. She only sobs against my neck and wraps her legs around my hips.

Well, that was easier than I thought it would—

A blow to the back of my left leg makes me howl in pain and I almost miss my next swing. I look over my shoulder and see the goons below chasing us with their guns raised and firing.

“Nala! A little help here!” I screech as I see the lead-lined truck the AI detected earlier barreling towards us.

“Calculating alternative routes. . .”

Another blast from below grazes my shoulder, making me grit my teeth. “Oh my God?! What are you? My car’s GPS?! Tell me where to go!”

I take a sharp right turn and head for the city, now finally out of range of the goon’s on foot. The lead-lined truck however has turned down the same way we did and is now hot on our tail.

I can’t get higher because all I can swing off of are these containers and I can’t go any faster because I have Kara in my arms.

That reminds me, since picking her up she hasn’t said a single thing and her grip around me has also loosened considerably.

“Nala, what’s wrong with Supergirl?” I ask, doing my best to dodge the bullets that are being fired at us from below.

“It seems the Kryptonian has passed out.”

Great, she’s solar flared. . .

I grunt and readjust her in my arm. “Is she injured?”

“Yes, but she should make a full recovery as soon as her powers have returned.”

The gunfire from below suddenly stops and when I look down I see that the truck has come to a stop in front of a superficial police barricade.

Officers are swarming the place, ducking behind car doors and aiming their guns at the truck, screaming at the goons to step out with their hands behind their head.

“J’onn.” I breathe in relief when I realize that this is the backup he mentioned earlier.

I try to get my comms device working again, having no idea when it stopped working in the first place, but it doesn’t turn back on, so I just continue making my way into the city toward the tower.

Now that the imminent threat of being shot has been eliminated though, I slow down considerably and focus on keeping my swings as smooth as possible in case Kara wakes up.

Someone squeezing my hand makes me stir in my chair. I groan and open my eyes, feeling a dull ache on my shoulder and the back of my leg where I was hit by the goons.

“Baby. . .” Kara’s soft voice makes me shoot up in my chair and when I look down at her on the bed I find her blue eyes already on me. She smiles softly and squeezes my hand again. “Hey.”

“Hi, how are you feeling?” I ask quietly. I reach forward and push the sun lamps up enough for her to sit up carefully.

“Like shit,” she admits with a small chuckle.

I scoff and let go of her hand, burying it in my lap. If she’d said that three months ago, I would have laughed and kissed the back of her hand playfully, but since then, things have changed.

Three months ago, sitting in the med bay next to Kara was a very rare occurrence. Nowadays though, it’s almost a daily occurrence.

She’s constantly taking unnecessary risks and on the off-chance that she’s not out superheroing, she stays up late at the office to finish an article, or write a news segment.

I can’t remember the last time we slept in the same bed, much less when we shared a meal together. Our relationship is barely even a relationship anymore, and tonight has honestly been my last straw.

Frowning at the way I pulled my hand out of her grasp, Kara sits up straighter. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Tears prick my eyes and I dig my fingernails into my palms. “What’s wrong?! Are you kidding me, Kara? This is the third time you’ve solar flared this week! You were almost kidnapped and I was shot twice saving you!”

“Y-You’re hurt?” She squints, presumably to use her x-ray vision on me, but then she realizes her powers have yet to return. “Are you—“

“This isn’t about me!” I cut in, my voice getting louder. “You keep putting yourself in these situations and I can’t for the life of me understand why. What’s going on with you? Why are you doing this?”

Kara gapes at me, her frown deepening. “Y/N. . .My Love . .”

I shake my head and get up, pacing at the foot of her bed. “No, Kara. I want answers. What’s going on with you? Does it have anything to do with me?” I ask, my voice shaking. “Did I do something wrong? Is that why you’re never home? Are you being reckless to prove something, or—“

“No, you didn’t do anything,” she insists. “I promise. This has nothing to do with you.”

I stop and turn to look at her. Her blue eyes are shining with tears and her chin is quivering.

“Then what is it?” I use the sleeve of the hoodie Alex gave me earlier after cleaning my wounds to wipe away my tears.

Kara clenches and unclenches her jaw as if she’s struggling to admit something. “Y/N, it’s not— I mean, you didn’t— I know things have been a lot lately, but-“ she runs a hand through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

If that isn’t the biggest lie she’s ever told then I don’t know what is. She’s a horrible liar and even if I didn’t hear the telltale sound of her heart stuttering just now, I’d still know she was lying just by seeing the guilty look on her face.

I stare at her for a moment, wondering when everything started to go this wrong between us before hanging my head low and turning to leave. “Well, I guess you better start figuring it out then because I can’t do this anymore, Kara.”

“W-What?” she stutters. I hear her trying to get up to follow me before groaning and falling back into bed. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” I reach for the door handle without looking back.

“Wait!” Her voice falters and when she sniffles I have to force myself not to turn back and comfort her. “Are you. . . Are you breaking up with me?”

I swallow harshly and open the door. “No, not yet anyway.”

I leave before she can say anything else and make my way to the tower’s main room where J’onn, Alex, and Nia are sitting around the coffee table.

“Hey, are you okay?” Nia asks when she sees the distress on my face.

I just shake my head and make my way to the elevator. “No. Alex?”

The older Danvers who’s also watching me with concern gets to her feet. “Yeah?”

“Tell your sister to pull herself together,” I say before stepping onto the elevator.

I see J’onn raise an eyebrow at the interaction and share a glance with Nia before the doors slide closed.

Kara might be the one who solar flared, but I could bet a hundred bucks I’m more drained than she is right now.

This has been quite some time in the making now, and I know it’s no longer up to me how things will turn out from here on out.

It’s in Kara’s hands now and if our relationship is as important to her as it is to me, she will have to prove it.

_______________________________________________

Uh oh. . .

[kyywritess]

CHAPTER 3: KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER

pairing: aged up!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

summary: After six intense years in Japan, YN LN has firmly established herself as a renowned gym owner. She's known by many pros for her charm, strength, and boxing abilities. She has a strong support system and amazing friends... her life in Japan was everything she dreamed it would be.

But everything changes one fateful night when a mysterious package appears on her doorstep. No note, no return address—just a plain box wrapped with a single pearly pink ribbon. As she unravels the contents of the box, she’s drawn into a dark, twisted mystery that seems to reach deep into her own past—a past she thought she had buried when she left her old life behind.

wc: 1.8k

an: This is basically a continuation from the last chapter, but I was already 5k words in so I figured I should split it up. The past two chapters were essentially intro chapters, just to help put a few things into perspective. This chapter is where things really start to begin.

---

The sound of your phone buzzing on the coffee table pulled you from the haze of sleep. Your head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache that made you wince as you tried to sit up. The world tilted slightly, and you pressed a hand to your temple, feeling the faint stickiness of dried blood beneath your fingers. It took a moment for the events of the night before to filter back in—the pantry, the fall, and then…Bakugo.

Your eyes flicked to the neatly folded note propped against an ice pack, the bold, familiar scrawl of Bakugo’s handwriting catching your attention. You reached for it, unfolding it carefully as if the paper might somehow carry the weight of his presence.

Call me the minute you wake up.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips despite the lingering pain. He wasn’t one for sentimentality, but the message spoke volumes in its simplicity. Just below, another line caught your eye, and your heart gave an unexpected lurch.

I’m not always gonna be around, so don't go falling again. 

You stared at the words, your chest tightening. For someone like Bakugo, who rarely voiced his feelings outright, this was the equivalent of shouting from the rooftops. It was equal parts comforting and unsettling, a reminder that he was only a friend. 

The phone buzzed again, dragging you out of your thoughts. The screen lit up with Bakugo’s name. You hesitated for a moment before answering, the roughness of his voice filling the silence before you could even get a word in.

“Took you long enough,” he muttered, the usual gruffness tinged with something softer. “How’s your head?”

“Still attached,” you replied, trying for levity. “Thanks for the note. And the ice pack.”

There was a pause, just long enough for you to picture him on the other end, probably leaning against some random alley wall mid-patrol.

“Yeah, well,” he said, his tone dropping into something more serious. “Don’t scare me like that again, got it?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected softness in Bakugo’s tone.

“Don’t get soft on me now, Bakugo,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Katsuki,” he corrected, his voice firm but quieter now.

“What?”

“Stop calling me that stupid shit,” he muttered. “I’ve known you for five years. It’s Katsuki.”

You hesitated for a second, the weight of his words sinking in. “Okay…Katsuki,” you said, testing the sound of it on your tongue.

He’d be lying if he said hearing you say his name didn’t do something to him. The way it rolled off your tongue so naturally, so sweetly—it sent a rush of warmth through him, a flutter in his chest that he’d never admit to. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus.

Before he could say anything, you spoke again, your voice softer this time. “I’m sorry I scared you. I forgot to eat breakfast, and I think I just got dizzy.”

It was a lie, and you both knew it. The pause on the other end of the line told you as much, but he didn’t call you out on it. Instead, he let out a low grunt.

“Stop skipping breakfast,” he said, his tone gruff but tinged with concern. “Can’t have my favorite training partner weak.”

The line fell into a quiet lull, the kind of silence that wasn’t awkward but heavy with unspoken words. Lately, something has been shifting between you. There was a strange, charged energy in the air whenever you were around him, something that neither of you could quite name.

You and Bakugo had always been close—everyone knew that. Your bond was solid, built on years of trust. But it had always stayed firmly in the realm of friendship, never crossing the invisible line that separated friends from something more. Or so you thought.

But now, your mind couldn’t stop replaying the way he’d cradled you earlier, the tension in his arms as he carried you like you were the most fragile thing in the world. The way his hands, so often rough and unyielding, had been soft as they tended to your injury. And the way his voice, usually sharp and biting, had softened when he spoke to you.

You shook the thoughts away. Your mind was playing tricks on you. Falling for Katsuki Bakugo was a dangerous idea, one that could only end badly—for both of you. It was better to leave things as they were.

“You still there?” his voice cut through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just thinking.”

“Get some rest,” he said after a moment. “I’ll check on you later.”

“Okay,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Bye, Katsuki.”

You ended the call before he could respond, the familiar anxiety creeping back into your chest. You couldn’t afford to think about him right now, not when there were bigger issues at hand—like your quirk. What had happened earlier wasn’t normal, and the way it had activated on its own left you shaken.

You pushed yourself off the couch, the pounding in your head intensifying with every step. It felt as though your skull was caught in a vise, the pressure building with each movement. You stumbled slightly, catching yourself on the edge of the couch before making your way toward the bathroom.

The cool tile beneath your feet was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your skin. Flicking on the light, you winced as the harsh glow illuminated your reflection in the mirror. The sight wasn’t pretty—a faint trail of dried blood ran from your temple, cutting through the pale sheen of your skin. Dark circles hung under your eyes, making you look more like a ghost than yourself.

You gripped the edge of the sink, steadying your shaky hands as you splashed cold water on your face. The shock of it jolted you slightly, but it did little to chase away the lingering unease. Your thoughts drifted back to earlier—standing in the kitchen, the box of noodles at your feet, and then...the fall. But it wasn’t the fall that unsettled you most. It was what came before.

Your quirk had activated on its own.

The memory sent a chill down your spine. It wasn’t like before, when you had control. This time, it had felt alive, like it had a mind of its own, surging forward without your consent. You didn’t know what triggered it or why it left you feeling so drained. But one thing was certain—this wasn’t normal.

A sharp, deliberate knock shattered the fragile silence, slicing through your thoughts like a blade. You froze, heart pounding, your breath caught in your throat. No one was supposed to be here.

You moved cautiously toward the front door, your steps slow and soundless. Peering through the peephole, you saw nothing. Not a shadow. Not a flicker of movement.

Unease prickled at the back of your neck as you unlocked the door and opened it just enough to glance outside. There, on the doorstep, sat a package—a plain white box, tied with a delicate ribbon of pearly pink. Its quiet elegance felt out of place, an unassuming presence that carried an ominous weight.

You hesitated, the stillness around you deepening as your gaze locked on the box. Time seemed to stretch, your instincts screaming that something wasn’t right.

Taking a slow breath, you knelt and picked it up, its weight deceptively light. You brought it inside, closing the door with a quiet finality.

The package now sat on your kitchen table, an unwelcome guest in your home. You circled it warily, your mind racing. It wasn’t unusual for gym members or grateful parents to leave tokens of appreciation—a box of cookies, a heartfelt note. But this felt different. Too personal. Too precise.

You forced yourself to sit, hands hovering over the box. The ribbon was pristine, tied with a meticulousness that made your skin crawl. There was no card, no return address, no sign of who had left it.

With a deliberate tug, you pulled the ribbon free. It fell away soundlessly, a soft coil of silk on the table. You lifted the lid, your breath catching as the contents revealed themselves.

A single orange lily rested inside, its pink-tipped petals vivid and perfectly preserved. The sight was arresting, almost hypnotic in its beauty. But a cold shiver ran down your spine.

To most, a lily was a symbol of purity, love, or renewal. But to you, it was none of those things.

To you, it was a harbinger of the past you’d worked so hard to bury.

Your stomach churned as memories clawed their way to the surface. The scent of lilies had clung to the air on that day. The day your life had shattered. The day you swore you’d never look back.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table, gripping it tightly as the room seemed to close in around you. This wasn’t a coincidence. It wasn’t a thoughtful gesture.

It was a message.

Your quirk hummed beneath your skin, a low, warning vibration. Heat prickled at your fingertips, and you clenched your jaw, trying to wrestle your emotions under control.

“Not now,” you muttered, and with surprise, the tingling subsided, your quirk retreating to dormancy.

But the unease refused to dissipate. Your eyes moved to your phone, sitting on the counter. You knew what you had to do. With trembling hands, you picked it up, scrolling through your contacts until you landed on a name you hadn’t dialed in years.

Your thumb hovered for a moment, but the weight of the flower and its silent threat pressed down on you.

You tapped the name.

The phone rang once, twice. Each ring seemed to stretch into eternity, the anticipation twisting your nerves tighter and tighter. Finally, the line clicked, and a voice you hadn’t heard in years answered. It was low, steady, and sharp with recognition.

“I was hoping you’d never call.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “He’s back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “And he knows where I am.”

A tense silence stretched between you, the gravity of your words sinking in. Finally, the voice on the other end spoke, calm but charged with urgency.

“I'm on my way.”

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 4: Choke Points

“You know, my room has good choke points, too.” 

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x sometimes Spite??

Summary: Treviso is saved, Minrathous burns, and Rook has a mini-crisis over disappointing Neve. In an attempt to get her to stop moping, Lucanis drags her to spend some quality time with her family.…Link to Chapter 1

Word Count: 3.2k

Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! Blood, injury, the pain and agony of letting down Neve, protective Spite/Lucanis, Illario's snake collection, drunk Rook being a horny little shit. Also some references to plot lines in Tevinter Nights. A highly recommended read, but not necessary to follow the story. Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Rook used the back of her hand to wipe away the blood and sweat from her face, doubling over to catch her breath. 

“I can’t believe we fought it off.” Teia said, her eyes following the receding silhouette of the dragon on the horizon.

Dense soot fell from the sky as flames simmered on distant rooftops. The air carried the scent of wood smoke, reminiscent of All Souls Day, when Treviso would remember its dead, and the Chantry would light fires across the city to mark the burning of Andraste. Tonight, there was no peaceful remembrance of the fallen, no parades marching through the streets. Only fresh death and palpable despair. Despite their half-victory, Treviso remained shrouded in dread of what lay ahead.

“It’ll be back.” Lucanis’ voice held a haunting quality. “If Ghilan’nain hadn’t called it away…” 

Rook stood up straight. “Next time, it dies.”

“That thing was tough. It’ll be hard to put down for good.” Davrin warned. Behind him, Assan dug holes through the frost coating the governor’s lawn, the remnant of the dragon’s icy attack. No one stopped him - the Crows hated politicians.  

“What happened to Treviso would have been much worse if you hadn’t arrived when you did.” Teia threw her arms around Rook. “I cannot imagine how much worse…”

“Fiammetta!” 

Rook disentangled herself from the embrace and turned in the direction of her cousin’s voice. Viago, ever calm and collected, looked like an utter wreck as he approached.

“So he does have a soft spot,” Lucanis murmured to Teia.

“He has several.” She said with a wink. The Demon of Vyrantium raised both eyebrows and blinked uncomfortably. 

“You saved our city, Fiamma. Our people. Our home…” Viago’s mouth fell open mid-sentence as his gaze drifted over her shoulder. “Is that…a griffin? ”

Rook nodded emphatically and Viago crept forward, staring at Assan with childlike wonder. The griffin squawked and swished its tail in the air. 

“Never thought I’d see him get excited about anything other than snakes and poisons.” Lucanis mused. 

“Says the guy obsessed with wyverns.” Rook said, squatting to clean her blade on the grass.

Davrin sheathed his sword. “While this is all endearing, don’t we need to check in on-”

“Minrathous...” Rook’s eyes widened as she turned to Lucanis. “Neve!”

Davrin whistled, signaling for Assan. “Maybe there’s still time to help.”

Viago reached for Rook’s shoulder. “Fiamma, don’t go running into-“

Lucanis stopped him mid-sentence, laying his hand on his arm. “She’s got this. And if she doesn’t, I’ve got her back.”

A long moment passed as Viago held his gaze before he acknowledged with a nod. 

“Send word when you’re safe.”

“You worry too much!” Fiamma shouted over her shoulder, taking off after Davrin and Assan.

Lucanis delivered two reassuring pats to Viago’s back and then sprinted after them.

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Rook barely recognized Minrathous, relying on Lucanis to navigate its burning streets. It had been a miracle the Eluvian was even in one piece when they stepped through it.

They spotted Neve on a rooftop, along with Asher, the leader of the Shadow Dragons, and Tarquin, his second in command. Rook, with a dramatic flourish, pitched herself onto the roof from the highest rung of a nearby ladder.

“We’re here! What’s the situation?” 

“Look around.” Neve waved her arms in a display of exasperation. “I don’t know where to start. Is Treviso alright?”

“It’ll pull through. I’m asking about Minrathous.” 

“The Venatori had a clear shot at the palace while we faced a dragon we could barely hurt. The Viper drew it away from the safe house and took a claw to the gut as thanks. A healer could fix the wound, but the blight’s already in him...”

“I know of magic that may slow the corruption. It will give me more time.” Asher rasped. From Rook’s vantage point, the wounds appeared severe. Tarquin lunged at her, forcefully jabbing his finger against her chest. 

“This is all you! The risen gods, the blight, the dragon! Now the city’s lost to the Venatori-”

A low growl emanated from Lucanis, his eyes momentarily tinged with violet as he intervened, positioning himself between them.

“Do NOT. Touch. ROOK! ”

He took a step backward, blinking rapidly.

Asher propped himself up on an elbow, suppressing a cough. “Tarquin, it is what it is. You know Rook isn’t to blame.”

A groan of frustration escaped Tarquin’s lips as he returned to his post alongside the Viper, burying his face in his hands. 

“Tensions are a little high.” Neve said apologetically. “You should go for now. I need to be here a while. See to things.”

“Neve…”

“You had to defend your home. I don’t fault you for that, Rook. But it still doesn’t change what happened to mine.” 

Lucanis, seemingly in control of himself again, laid a hand on Rook’s shoulder and gently pulled her towards the ladder. 

“Come on, let’s give her some time.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Defeated and feeling guilty, Rook paced the halls of the Lighthouse alone. Judging from his snoring in the other room, Varric was asleep, and she didn’t want to interrupt his rest. Solas was an asshole , and confiding in any of the others was only likely to burden them, so Rook summoned her courage and approached the pantry, hoping there’d be at least once person she could commiserate with.

She rapped twice before cracking the door and peeking through. Lucanis lay sprawled on his narrow cot, tossing an apple into the air and catching it over and over again. He turned his head nonchalantly as she stepped inside.

“You know, we have other rooms and plenty of space. I don’t know why you-“

“You don’t know why the trained assassin would choose a room with only one entrance and good choke points?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s worse than I thought. You’ve forgotten all your training, Rook.”  

“Hush. I don’t need to be reminded of any more of my inadequacies today.” 

Lucanis sat up, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. “That bad, huh?”

“That bad.” With her back against the cold stone wall, Rook slid to the floor. “I know Neve doesn’t hold it against me, but…I can’t help but feel like her trust - and faith in me - are fractured.” She confessed grimly. “Just as I earned back Viago’s good graces…”

“Were the tables turned, she would have picked her home. She knows that. That’s why it’s hard for her to work out. She’ll come around. Just like Viago did.”

“I had to fight a dragon to change Viago’s mind.”

“You might have to fight another one to change Neve’s.” A small smile tugged at the corner of Lucanis’ lips as he rose to his feet. “Besides, Viago never really lost faith in you, Rook. You have to know that.”

“I’m not sure how well you know Viago.”

“I know what it’s like to be a big brother - cousin - but I think you know what I mean…” He squatted in front of her, resting his forearms on his knees. “He’s hard on you because he wants you to survive. It’s why Caterina was hard on me. And why I’m hard on Illario.”

“Please don’t compare me to Illario.”

“I would never.” Lucanis said, his grin widening as he rose to his full height. “You’re much more pleasant.” 

“My father was hard on me, too.” Rook said. “Nothing like Caterina, I’m sure, but after my mother died, he changed. He was my protector all my life until he had to teach me to protect myself. I’m grateful, but…”

Lucanis’ expression softened as her voice trailed off. “I’m sorry. I wish I knew how to... comfort you.”

“I just came to strategize. I don’t need comfort .” Rook said coolly. 

“Those are a lot of big emotions for strategizing, De Riva.” He took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Come on. I think I might know who can help.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

“Cheer up, Fi. So we didn’t slay the dragon. It flew away! From us! That counts for something, right?”

A trip back to Treviso and a glass of one of her cousin’s best vintages later, Rook found herself on the receiving end of a pep talk from Teia. She sunk deeper into the green velvet cushions of Viago’s couch and glowered across the room at Lucanis. 

“You thought this would make me feel better?” She asked, her voice heavy with exhaustion. She finished off her wine, the glass clinking softly against the side table as she set it down.

Lucanis, nestled in a plush armchair near the fireplace, shrugged, his eyes fixed on the dancing flames.

“Oh, come on, I know you missed us.” Teia extended her wineglass towards Viago as he entered the room with a fresh bottle. He topped her off and filled Rook’s to the brim again.

“You’re in my chair.” He grumbled at Lucanis, who reluctantly pushed himself up with a groan and relocated to the couch.

“I warned you.” Rook said as she made room. “Viago’s very particular about these things.”

Lucanis grunted as he eased himself down beside her.

“Where’s Illario? I thought you invited him?” Teia asked Viago. “Too good to celebrate our victory?” 

“He’s sulking at Caterina’s Villa. I didn’t want to disturb him.” 

“Fine by me,” Rook mumbled, snatching her wine back off the table. As the conversation continued, her gaze wandered towards a large terrarium in the corner of the room. A Death Adder, one of the most venomous snakes in Thedas, was coiled around a twig, flicking its tongue at her.

“So tell me, cousin, what’s up with the new pet?”

“Emil Kortez planted it in my wardrobe at the last Crow summit in Lago di Novo.” 

“It’s bite nearly killed him.” Teia said. “Good thing our Viago takes his morning coffee with dilute poison.” 

“And you let it live?” Lucanis asked. “You really are getting soft, De Riva.”

“That snake came closer to taking me out than any man can say. He deserves my respect and a good home. With all the mice he desires.” He brought his wine to his lips. “Besides, I can extract his venom for Adder’s Kiss.” 

Rook stood, a little unsteadily, and crossed the room. Reaching out to feel the cool glass against her fingertips, she examined the snake, noticing a bulge in its belly, evidence of a recent meal. Its slow blinks seemed content, almost serene. As far as snakes went…it appeared fat and happy.

“Does it have a name?” She asked with a hiccup. 

“Emil.”

Teia raised her glass. “May he rest in pieces.”

Rook flopped back down on the couch beside Lucanis, her wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim of her glass. He frowned and snatched it from her hand, setting it aside.

“With you off saving the world, I needed a new roommate. Emil’s quieter.” Viago said.

Rook ignored her cousin’s sarcasm, knowing it only veiled his hurt feelings. A heavy silence fell between them before he spoke again. 

“I’m turning in, but this is still your home too, Fiamma. Your room is exactly as you left it. Perhaps you should sleep in your old bed tonight. I’m not sure I can endorse traveling through the Fade under the influence.” He rose from his armchair. “Lucanis, you’re welcome to the couch.”

“What about me?” Teia asked with a wink. 

“I’ll expect to find you where you usually end up.” Viago purred, disappearing into the shadows of the hall. 

Rook knocked her head back against the wooden frame of the couch. “I didn’t want to hear any of that.” 

“You two are…?” Lucanis pointed between Teia and the hall, his wine glass balanced delicately between his ring and index fingers. 

“Happened after your…funeral.”

“Teia!” Rook cried. 

“What? Grief is a powerful aphrodisiac. Besides, with Lucanis back, that means someday we’ll get to grieve for him all over again...”

“I think that’s my cue.” Lucanis said, and pushed himself up from his seat. “I’ll give you two some time to catch up.” 

As he slipped through a pair of glass doors onto the balcony, Rook reclaimed her half of the couch. 

“Alright, we’re only doing this once.” She said, throwing back the rest of her wine. “Spill.”

After Teia went to bed, Rook joined Lucanis outside. Silhouetted against the moonlit sky, he leaned over the railing, tracking her out of the corner of his eye as she approached.

With a weary sigh, she sat down on the ground and slotted her legs through the gaps in the rails, dangling them over the ledge.

“I might be back in the Crows’ good graces after saving Treviso.”

“You impressed Viago. That is quite a challenge on its own.” 

“You have no idea…” Rook muttered. 

“Here, not that you need it.” Lucanis picked up a decanter on a nearby table and joined her on the ground, topping off her wine. 

Rook took his offer appreciatively, “Thanks.”

Wordlessly, they sat together while she swung her bare feet in the open air below. A gentle breeze rustled through the night, carrying with it the remnants of the recent chaos. Mist and smoke floated over Treviso, the flames once painting the horizon finally subdued. The city was damaged, but it would come back, as it always did. Stronger. 

“Why do you not mind when Teia calls you by your old name?” Lucanis asked suddenly. “I’ve never heard you correct her.”

Rook sipped her wine. “After everything that happened, nobody used my name to say anything nice to me - or about me. Only to scold me. But Teia…I’ll always be Fi to her. It feels like home when she says it. I think that’s what a name should be.”

“For what it’s worth, I’ve never scolded you.” Lucanis said, leaning in to bump his shoulder into hers.

“Your grandmother did plenty.” Her voice echoed inside the glass as she took another drink. “And your cousin.”

“Caterina only scolds people she likes.” He said with a smile. “Illario too, but I understand it’s not an honor to be liked by him.” 

Rook laughed bitterly. “No, no, it isn’t.” 

“What happened between you two?”

“It was never that serious, Lucanis. Not for me. I think Illario was more enamored with my father’s legacy than with me.” 

“I mean…your father was an impressive man. He wielded fire with more precision than the best of assassins could wield a blade. The way he could set a politician’s home aflame and make it look like an accident, or cauterize a wound before his victim had the chance to draw the poison out…” Lucanis let out a low whistle. 

Rook groaned. “You’re just as bad as Illario!”

Lucanis laughed. “I’m not, I promise. But I did have a high opinion of him. There aren’t many assassins of his caliber who turn down becoming Talon. I envied him most the day I learned Caterina was grooming me to become First.” 

“The mage killer, idolizing a mage.” 

“The Flame of Treviso wasn’t just a mage - he was a beacon of hope , Rook! He valued justice over titles and riches. He would be proud of you, Crow or no. You are the legacy he left behind. His daughter, his little flame, now a formidable fire…”

Lucanis reached out, crooking a finger under her chin and tilting her head towards him.

“It’s in your eyes. Not just the amber of your irises - your drive to do what is right. To protect those who cannot protect themselves. I don’t just owe you a debt - I think you’re a leader worth following. Fiamma, Fiammetta, Rook…”

His hand fell. “I’ll call you whatever you want.”

Warmth spread across Rook’s face as her cheeks flushed, and she tore away her gaze. The balcony spun slightly as she struggled to her feet, the effects of the alcohol pulsing through her body, a gentle buzz at her fingertips. She was a leader, she thought to herself, with some embarrassment. She should be acting like it. 

“Mind if we crash here tonight? I think I’ll fall to my death if I try to venture through the Crossroads like this.” 

“Not at all. I think a break from the Fade would be good for you.” Lucanis glanced at the empty bottle behind them. “Should we clean up?”

“Leave it. Viago’s used to picking up after me.” 

She shuffled through the door and Lucanis followed, ducking under her arm and draping it over his shoulders, one hand encircling her waist as he helped her inside. 

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Rook didn’t protest, allowing him to guide her while the apartment swam around her. He smelled like leather and cardamom, and she suppressed a drunken urge to shove her tongue down his throat. She hadn’t been with anyone since her last assignment in Minrathous several months ago. A one-night stand with a Shadow Dragon. She never bothered to learn his name. After all, he didn’t bother to give her an orgasm.

Down the hall, Teia giggled behind Viago’s closed door. With a grimace, Rook stepped inside her old room as it came into focus, finding it exactly as she remembered. The floor to ceiling windows cast faint lines of light through the panes, falling like stripes upon the furniture. Someone had neatly made her bed, and the vanity remained untouched. On the other side of the room, a thin layer of dust covered her collection of perfumes and poisons on the fireplace mantle. Even her ivy hanging from the ceiling was alive - Viago must have watered it in her absence. Hopefully he didn’t plant another snake in it. 

“You’re okay with the couch?” She asked Lucanis, holding her breath as she waited for his response.

“It will be a slight upgrade from the pantry.” He grinned as he released his hold on her, hands hovering in case she faltered. “But lacking the good choke points.” 

Rook crossed the room, taking a match from her nightstand and lighting a few candles.

“I like the way you say it… Fiammetta.”

Lucanis folded his arms, leaning against the door frame. “Is it so different from the way everyone else says it?” 

“It sounds like poetry when you do it.” She said, a shy smile playing on her lips. The matchstick flickered, and she extinguished the flame with a quick flick of her wrist. “Maybe it would be okay if you used it - just between us.” 

“We’ll see if you change your mind tomorrow. Once the wine has worn off.” 

He let his arms fall to his sides and fell back into the hall. Rook stumbled after him, propping herself up against the wall as she peered around the corner.

“You know, my room has good choke points, too.” 

Lucanis turned slowly, his eyes widening. Eyebrows knitted together, mouth slightly agape, only a quiet sound of surprise left his lips before she retreated inside her room and pressed her weight against the door, shutting it with a soft click.

[insertyourselfhere]

Rivals Part 2

Pairing: Gwen Stacy (Ghost Spider x Reader)

Description: It has been just over a week now and it was getting really competitive, every night you and Ghost Spider met in a clash of heroism. You were even at the moment, 5 for 5 and the night had just started for both of you, as you were heading towards another scene you managed to catch up to the Ghost Spider on her way too. This time though it seemed you were more interested in each other than on making it to the crime currently ongoing.

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

As you managed to catch up with the Spider you jumped off your roof onto hers, as you did she turned around and shot her web at your feet you doing the same. Causing both of you to become stuck unable to move.

She sent a smirk towards you under her mask, her voice dripping with playful teasing. "You know, Shadow, it's almost impressive how you keep coming back for more. I'm starting to think you enjoy these encounters a little too much."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at their lips. "Who said I'm here for you, Ghost Spider? Maybe I just like imagining what your face is going to look like when I win this whole charade.” You said gesturing towards her “Why don’t you do us both, unmask yourself, we can go save that citizen and go on our date tonight instead” She scoffed rolling her eyes towards you.

“I think it’s funny that you believe you have a chance at beating me” She said folding her arms. You shot your web towards her head which she ducked and look back at you, your smirk still on your face you knew what was coming and so did shadow.

She jumped towards you, her fist narrowly missing your head, you grabbed her hand and threw her off the building. You dusted off your hands and went to swing away but was met with a fierce kick from the Spider. She landed gracefully next to you and you got into your fighting pose.

“You ready to dance Spider” You said staring her down, she nodded her head in her signature pose. “I hope you can keep up with me” You made the first move running towards her and dodging the webs she shot at you, you went to go slide kick her off her feet and she dodged shooting webs at your face, you pulled them off you throwing your fist towards her but instead of punchin the Spider you grabbed her hand and twirled her around.

“You know Spider-Woman its impressive how fluid your movements are, Im almost mesmerised” You said holding onto her still, she pushed off your chest doing a back flip and landing on her feet a few metres away from you.

“And I have to admit your moves are impressively mediocre. But hey I think its cute that your trying” You shout forward trying to tack her to the ground and narrowly missing, one more leap over you but Shadow’s arm extended from your body grabbing her mid jump, you chuckled at her futile attempts to get away and placed her against the rooftop floor. You put web around her limbs holding her in place and let off another little wave.

“These mediocre moves just took you down princess so what dose that say about you” Your mask retracted up to your nose so your lips were exposed, you sent the Spider a kiss and headed towards the crime scene.

You made it to where all the trouble was and landed just next to the police barricade that was up, the police themselves weren’t fond of you or your actions but they didn’t like the goody two shoes either. As you ignored their loud cries to stop where you were and put your hands up, you looked up to see the building on fire, it was an apartment building at least 50 stories high and the highest ones were on fire from at least floor 40 upwards.

“Okay lets see those mediocre moves again” You ran and jumped towards the building, flying up to the 40th floor, you entered into the blaze, your suit protecting you. You could hear lots of coughing and voices crying for help so you got to work.

You shot a web outside of the floor you were on and made sure it was stable and away from any fire or blaze, you ran through the different rooms on the floor listening out for voices, one by one you would find small groups of people, one of them actually holding a shadow plush.

“Alright guys listen to me, 1 by 1 im going to throw you out of the building, my web is out there as a safety net linked to the next building, head towards it and then head down. I will constantly check on you guys to make sure that nothings happens okay!” they all nodded and one by one you began grabbing people and throwing them out of the building, minus the kid who was holding the plush toy you gave them a personal escort.

Once you were done with the 40th floor you made your way up, making new webs, checking on those around you. You were swinging the last lot of people onto the web when you noticed Ghost Spider was perched up at the top of the opposite building helping those get out, she gave you a thumbs up and you gave her one back. As you dropped off those people the building exploded at the roof and caused your web to snap in half making you fall, you went to shoot your web but there was no where for you to grab as the fiery levels would just cause them to burn, Ghost Spider however didn’t give you the chance to think as she leaped over the nearby building, shot her web towards you to catch you and then threw you towards the top of the building so you could keep your rescue efforts going.

You gave her a big wave and she just went back to ushering people off the nearby building. You made your way to the 48th floor, hearing no other sounds or noises of people coming out around you butt  you had to make sure you got everyone out, you made it close to the roof and then you heard it, the smallest cries and sounds of reassurance.

“It’s okay baby, I know I’m so sorry but we will be okay” Sounded like a family. You pushed your way through the blaze again and managed to find the young family.

“Hey there almost missed you guys”

They gave you a tentative smile, you knowing full well you weren’t the most kid friendly vigilante there was.

“I need to get you guys off this building but we definitely can’t go up so we will have to go through the fire, I can protect you though if you trust me?”

They nodded and you grabbed a hold of them, you knew this was going to hurt but it was important, you managed to wrap shadow’s skin around them inside of a small bubble however there was enough to protect you 3 so it left you very expose, your back, legs and arms were all out but your torso and mask were still on protecting your vitals.

“Okay we just need to make it to that window down on the floor below and I can get Spider-Woman to catch you okay?”

“Thank you Shadow” The mother said and you smiled under your mask. You started walking towards the window slowly to make sure the family was safe, your body could definitely feel the heat now as it was kissing your skin.

“Just a couple of more steps okay! I promise to get you guys out of here” The nodded once again and you started walking a little bit quicker, as you got closer to the window you heard the roof start collapsing above you, the debris that was around you was starting to give way so you looked at them.

“Trust me?” You asked and they nodded once more, you picked them up and ran, your body still exposed to the head and you pushed them out the window into the arms of Spider-Woman who was waiting. As soon as you did the floor above you collapsed onto you and since your back was expose it managed to pierce your body leaving you pinned to the floor. Your vision went hazy as you watched Ghost Spider swing away with them and you fell unconscious.

After awhile your body shook you awake, you woke up staring at the sky, with a very concerned Spider-Woman looking at you. You let out a sigh of relief and sat up, seeing that your body had already healed your would thanks to Shadows share abilities you let out a sigh of relief.

“That was close”

“You don’t say Y/N”

Your eyes widened when she said your name, you touched your face and somehow shadow had not replenished the mask on your face meaning she knew who you were and knows your name.

“Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone” She said sitting back a bit from you to give you space, you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

“So you know who I am hey?” You chuckled at how slack you were with your secret identity.

“I sure do” She said gently, you stood up and looked over to her with a smile.

“It just means we have to make it even then doesn’t it?” You said with a sly smile on your face, She looked over at you and stood up only to make more of a distance between you.

“Nope the only way your going to get to see this face is if you win our bet” She smiled and waved goodbye leaving you alone with your thoughts.

‘Pussy’ Shadow said and you laughed.

‘I almost missed you, hey how come you didn’t save me back there from you know, getting stabbed’

‘I don’t know, you deserved it, what kind of plan is throwing people out a window’

‘One that works thank you’

You suited back up and made your way home thinking about the events that took place tonight smiling.

[hsmtmts-arrows]

when do madlyn say ily for the first time to each other do u think

*cracks knuckles*

its valentines day ashlyn's known since christmas day itself when maddox was waiting at her door with a stack full of presents for her and ej that she loved maddie. maddox never fully realised it though until mid january time when the two went sledging as a date. ashlyn had tripped and maddox being maddox had rushed over to help ash up, holding her hand out for her girlfriend to take but ash being ash pulled her down into the snow with her.

but when the say it is valentines day. ashlyn at this point doesn't have the grandest idea of a gesture to tell maddie, but she wants to say it. a song? no it's too ricky-bowen coded. so it's just a date in the middle of the the caswell's floor in the living area where she dragged ej out from college to help her build a fort. she asks jet to give her the longest list known to mankind of all the foods maddox likes so she gets all of the snacks she loves. MADDOX meanwhile also has plans to tell ashlyn she loves her. she gets ricky, jet and gina in her room, pacing back and forth; "i have to tell her on valentines day. it makes sense right? yeah. it makes sense to tell her that day-" and it goes on AND ON until ricky says that she should write her song. jet gives him a look that reads "ew. really?"

but maddie is all over the idea. until she realises that includes actually writing it. she gets her guitar in the living area and doesn't stop playing it and writing in one of her notepads that night until what felt like four in the morning for jet. it's perfect.

maddie is fiddling with the guitar strap the whole way on her walk to ash's place. jet keeps texting her telling her to stop panicking while he's literally on his date with kourtney (it's fine kourt wants all the gossip and updates on maddie and ashlyn's date). ash plays all of maddie's favourite movies as the two cuddle in the fort before ash asks her why she brough the guitar.

maddie is slightly panicked, and messes up at the beginning, but when she takes another look at ashlyn she just remembers. just like that. she loves ash. she plays her the song. she tells her she loves her so proudly. she wants to shout it from the rooftops itself. and ash is shocked- had her own girlfriend just stolen her OWN plan?

of course ashlyn says it back and the two laugh when it's revealed that the couple very much had similar plans of telling each other ily, and watch more of the movies before falling asleep in each other's arms.

[reblog4myficsnotesonly]

• Crazy! y/n Hobie saves her •

---

She was perched on the edge of a rooftop, giggling to herself as she swung her baseball bat. Below, Deadpool and Logan were mid-mission, handling things with their usual grace—or lack thereof. She’d been told to stay out of trouble, but when did she ever listen?

The fight below wasn’t her concern anymore. Her attention was fixed on the chaos of the city skyline. A glimmering skyscraper caught her eye, its reflective glass gleaming like a beacon. She hopped up, balancing precariously on the edge, the wind whipping at her mismatched tights.

“Careful, princess,” Deadpool shouted from below. “One wrong move and it’s splat city!”

“Relax, Wade!” she called back, doing a mock curtsey. “I’ve got this under—”

Her foot slipped on the slick surface, and before she knew it, she was plummeting toward the chaos below.

The air rushed past her, her heart pounding, when suddenly a thread of silver webbing shot out of nowhere, snagging her wrist. With a jerk, her fall stopped, and she dangled mid-air like a deranged marionette.

“Gotcha,” came a smooth, accented voice.

She craned her neck to see her rescuer—a lanky figure in a black suit, the spider emblem on his chest stark against the dark fabric. His mask tilted as he regarded her.

“You alright, love?” he asked, pulling her up effortlessly.

Her feet hit the rooftop, and she stumbled slightly before looking up at him. Her eyes, wild with adrenaline and excitement, scanned him up and down.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Name’s Spider-Punk. You’re welcome, by the way,” he said with a cocky grin, the British lilt in his voice making her head tilt in curiosity.

She stared at him, a slow, unhinged smile spreading across her face.

“Oh, I like you,” she purred, her fingers twitching toward her bat.

---

### Chapter 2: **A Dangerous Obsession**

After that encounter, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way he moved, the way his voice sounded, the way he saved her like some punk rock knight in shining armor—it was maddening.

She spent days scrawling his name on her walls, doodling little hearts around it. “Hobie Brown” was etched into her notebooks, the words “mine” and “forever” scribbled in blood-red marker.

Deadpool walked into her room one day, stopping dead in his tracks. “Uh, kid? Did someone break in and decorate for you, or is this some weird performance art?”

“Shut up, Wade!” she snapped, throwing a shoe at him.

“Okay, jeez. Who’s the unlucky guy?” he teased, picking up a crumpled drawing of Spider-Punk.

“None of your business!” she yelled, snatching the paper back.

Wade smirked. “You’ve got it *bad,* munchkin.”

---

### Chapter 3: **Hobie’s Predicament**

Hobie Brown first noticed something was off when he started finding strange notes stuck to his webbed hideouts. Messages like *“You’re mine”* and *“Let’s carve out your heart”* were scrawled in messy handwriting, often accompanied by crudely drawn hearts.

He wasn’t scared, not exactly. If anything, he was intrigued.

One night, while swinging through the city, he spotted her perched on a rooftop, waiting for him.

“Well, if it isn’t my biggest fan,” he called out, landing gracefully beside her.

She turned slowly, her grin wide and manic. “You’re late, Hobie. I’ve been waiting *all night.*”

“Sorry, love. Traffic was murder,” he quipped, crossing his arms.

She stood, gripping her bat tightly, her mismatched tights catching the moonlight. “Do you know how long I’ve been thinking about you? Dreaming about you?”

Hobie raised an eyebrow behind his mask. “Should I be flattered or terrified?”

“Both,” she said sweetly, stepping closer.

For a moment, he considered stopping her—this girl clearly had a few screws loose. But there was something about her that fascinated him, her chaos balancing out his cool demeanor.

“You’re absolutely mad,” he said finally.

“And you love it,” she shot back, her eyes gleaming.

---

### Chapter 4: **The Chase**

Hobie tried to maintain his distance, but she always found him. Whether it was on rooftops, in back alleys, or even in the middle of his missions, she was there, her presence as chaotic as a storm.

One night, as he swung through the city, she chased him from the rooftops, her manic laughter echoing in the night.

“C’mon, Hobie!” she yelled. “Don’t you wanna play?”

“Not tonight, love,” he called back, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Too bad!” she shouted, hurling her bat at him.

He dodged it effortlessly, catching it mid-air with a flick of his webbing.

“Nice try,” he said, landing on a nearby building and tossing the bat back to her.

She caught it with a delighted laugh, her grin so wide it nearly split her face.

“You’re fun,” she said, twirling her bat.

“You’re insane,” he countered.

“Same thing.”

---

### Chapter 5: **Mutual Fascination**

Despite himself, Hobie started to enjoy her attention. She was unpredictable, chaotic, and absolutely unhinged, but there was a strange honesty to her madness.

“You know,” he said one night as they sat on a rooftop together, the city lights flickering below, “you could use all that crazy energy for something good.”

She tilted her head, her messy pigtails swaying. “Like what? Knitting sweaters for orphans?”

“Maybe not that,” he said with a chuckle. “But you’ve got spirit, love. You just need to point it in the right direction.”

She stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she leaned in, her manic grin returning.

“I think I’ll stick to carving smiles,” she whispered.

Hobie shook his head, laughing softly. “You’re a piece of work.”

“And you’re stuck with me now.”

---

**To be continued…**

[starry-storms]

Jason stared down as the cars passed below. He can hear Dick teasing Damian about something. Jason wasn't listening close enough to actually catch the topic. It's friendly, and Damian doesn't seem overly agitated by it yet.

Bruce apparently wants to stop it from becoming too agitating. "Be nice, Nightwing," he hears Batman say.

"I'm being nice!" Dick said, "I'm just being a little annoying."

"You're always a little annoying," Tim said.

"Hey!"

"You should have seen how annoying he was in his emo phase," Jason said as he headed down a fire escape to the street.

"It wasn't an emo phase," Dick said quickly.

"Boys," Bruce said tiredly.

Jason laughed. He could hear his brothers and sister laugh, too. He absently wondered when he started thinking of them all as siblings as he approached a food stand.

"I'm grabbing a chili dog," he said, "anyone want some?"

"Can you get me one?" Cassandra asked, "I'll pay you back."

"You don't have to. I got this one."

"Can I get one too?" Tim piped.

"Only if you pay me back tomorrow," Jason replied.

"She doesn't have to pay you back," Tim said indignantly.

"I like her more," Jason said as he paid for three chili dogs. He actually had no intention of making them pay him back. They'd often buy food during long nights, and money was never exchanged. If the bill was particularly high, the child who bought it would find a $100 bill somewhere in their living space within the next few days.

"I'm going to get Little Bird and I a snack from the vegetarian-friendly pasta place he likes," Dick said.

Jason was already headed back to a nice, secluded rooftop. "Yeah okay. Come get your food Timmy."

"It's Tim."

"No real names," Bruce reminded them.

He grinned to himself at his brother's reaction. He curled himself against a wall. As he ate, his eyelids drooped. This was nice, actually. The little bickering in his ear was nice. It was accompanied by the sharp scent of a storm rolling in. He might call it a night soon.

Or now. Just five minutes. He'd be awake before they noticed.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Tim sighed. He had been too far for his liking. His food would be cold by the time he got there.

"Hood," he announced as his feet hit the rooftop.

Jason's head had fallen to the side, a half eaten chili dog in his lap. Tim rolled his eyes. "I'm going to wake up Hood and tell him to go find an actual bed to sleep in," he announced over the comms. They all dosed off pretty often, considering their schedule. Tim went to shake Jason's shoulder, but stopped short. Something was off about his silhouette. It took him a moment to realize that Jason's chest was not rising and falling.

He narrowed his eyes and pressed two fingers to Jason's neck.

Nothing.

Panic hit him like a tidal wave. "He's dead."

"What?" Multiple people shouted in Tim's ear.

His knees hit the roof as he looked for an injury. He wrestled Jason down onto his back. "Starting compressions now."

He pumps and pumps. He breathes into Jason's mouth, forcing oxygen into him. He feels Jason's ribs start to complain, but he doesn't slow down. He's sweating and it's mixing with the tears flowing out of his domino mask. One of Jason's ribs breaks, and he can feel it give way.

His heart doesn't restart.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Jason wakes up to pain in his left side. A lot of pain. Instinctively, he reaches toward it. Someone catches his wrist, and Jason opens his eyes.

It's Tim. Tim's other hand is on his chest, frozen mid-compression. The kid's domino mask is falling off, as they typically do when too many tears wear off the adhesive.

Dick is kneeling by Tim. There's a broken, breathy noise clawing its way up his throat. It sounds like he would be screaming if he could stop gasping for just a second long enough to get air. His mask is off too. His eyes are reddened, with tears falling down his cheeks. Damian's hand is on Dick's shoulder. The youngest bird is purposefully looking away, hiding his face with his hood.

Bruce is standing nearby. His face is the color of a sheet and there's tears freely flowing from under the cowl. Cassandra seems to helping him stay standing, but she isn't even looking at Jason. She's staring into the distance, eyes glassy.

"What happened?" He manages to stutter out.

All of their miscellaneous noises seem to halt. Tim let's go of Jason's wrist and checks for a pulse in his neck.

"Your... your heart isn't beating," he says, fumbling over the words.

It all clicks into place. "It stops sometimes," he admits, "it'll start again in a few minutes"

"What?" Dick chokes out.

Jason tries to sit up, but the burning pain in his side keeps him on his back. "It happens when I fall asleep sometimes."

"And you didn't think to let us know?" Damian demands, now looking at him. The kid looks angry, but his eyes had tears in them too.

"I kind of forgot about it."

Tim is staring at him, jaw dropped. Dick is staring too, wiping at his own eyes.

"I think I broke your rib," Tim admits.

"Yeah," he groans, "yeah, I can feel that Timmy. You want an award?"

Tim doesn't protest the name this time.

A large hand comes down on Tim's shoulder. He moves out of Bruce's way.

He kneels down and Jason swears that Bruce is the one that looks like a corpse.

The color is slowly returning to his face, but there are streaks where tears were still falling. He's shaking, visibly shaking, as he reaches for Jason.

An armored hand cups his cheek. Bruce's thumb runs along his cheekbone.

"Let's..." Bruce begins but the words seen to fail him. Slowly he leans down and presses a kiss to Jason's head.

Jason wonders if he did die again. Bruce had only ever kissed his head one other time. If hugging the bat was rare, getting kisses was practically a myth.

"Let's get you home," he whispers, his thumb still running back and forth across Jason's face.

Jason is going to pretend that he doesn't feel his heart start again when he hears that sentence.

"Okay."

Getting someone with a broken rib into a car, even the batmobile, is difficult. Tim is helping Bruce, because Dick still looks as though he's going to throw up. He's gone quiet, and is holding Damian like the kid is a teddy bear. Jason wonders if he imagines Damian tolerating it, and telling Dick that it's okay?

Cassandra can barely look at him. Her eyes are haunted by something she doesn't seem to want to say. Her breathing is heavy. Similarly, Tim keeps looking away from him, like he thinks if he stares Jason will disappear. Bruce, however, is staring at him.

He's back at the cave soon. The painkillers help. He closes his eyes on the medical cot. Bruce's calloused thumb is running back and forth over the hand he's holding. Someone puts a soft blanket over him, and when he cracks his eyes open, Dick is tucking the blanket around his shoulders.

"Go to sleep, Jason," Bruce says at some point. His voice is quiet. It's gentle, "I promise I'll be here when you wake up."

Prompt:

After Jason’s resurrection he finds that his body works… wrong somehow.

Some days he forgets to breathe until he wants to say something and finds there’s no air in lungs. Other days his body goes eerily cold until someone points out that his lips are blue and he needs to warm up.

And some days his heart stops beating in his sleeps.

It’s fine, really. It always starts again eventually a short while after he wakes up. And yeah, of course it was a bit scary the first couple times it happened but it’s not like his resurrection and Pit-dip came with an instruction manual, so this is probably pretty normal stuff, all things considered. He is kind of the definition of “undead”.

The real trouble starts when he forgets to mention those little details to the Batfamily when he stays over for the night.

[ghostboyhaunted]

ask game, i'm a match shes kerosine and the life after youth one

characters meeting the first time for each fic. because themes are fun :D

That's when the fight breaks out. Or – Bart thinks a fight breaks out. There's yelling and a bit of cursing. A punch gets thrown –  someone is grabbing Bart by the shirt and pulling him up on his feet. He can’t get a good look at the guy until they stop moving, positioned a little ways away from the mosh pit and, for fucks sake, even father away from Tim. 

“Shit, man, your jackets soaked” He shouts over the music, pointing at the large wet spot on the back of Bart’s jean jacket. Bart pulls it off and a new jacket is being shoved in his hands “Here!” the guy says, grinning, holding out his own leather jacket, decorated with patches and spiked shoulders. 

Bart hesitates. The guy just smiles, pushes it at him again “You can borrow it!” 

There's shouting, someone waving in the crowd, and the stranger looks away. He bounces on his feet, all jittery with excitement “I gotta go!”

“Wait–!” Bart shouts, waving at him “How can I return it?” He asks, holding up the jacket a little. The guy grins, cheshire cat wide, red lipstick still slightly smeared on his front tooth “You’ll see me!” He yells before disappearing into the crowd.

___

He looks around. Its dark in this particular neighborhood, with all the old residents having gone to sleep early in the night. The rain doesn’t help much – thick, heavyset clouds drifting by the skyline, weeping poison onto the world. 

Then theres a blur – bright blue and laughing – swinging by him. A grapple gun’s click whrrr click echoes through the air, and Tim follows in an instant. A race takes off. 

Nightwing lands on one gargoyle; Tim lands on one behind him. Dick takes off, and Tim does too. They used to do this –chase, or tag, or whatever– when Tim was training. Its been so long, Tim practically gets lost in the joy of it. That's how he gets taken down. 

He loses Dick for a second mid swing – and something slams into him, sending him flying, crashing onto a rooftop. He rolls as he lands, back hitting a crumbling wall, coughing. 

Someone stands above him, their chest heaving with effort, eyes sharp and angry, hands trembling. 

Tim looks up at him and frowns. He can feel the gash taken out of his face before he even notices it, because it hurts when he talks “Dick, what the hell?”

Nightwing freezes and takes a step back. “How do you know my name?”

[vatt-world]

Focus/Depth of Field Pg 172 To make some things in focus and rest of background fuzzy. Depth of field yields selective focus. Every lens has a specific depth of field: a range of distances within which objects can be photographed in sharp focus, given a certain exposure setting.

Camera Position Pg 187 Where the camera is placed to setup a close up ,medium, long shot, two shot etc .

Camera Position involves -Angle, Level, Height, and Distance of Framing. Angle The frame positions us at some angle on the subject. Distance The framing of the image stations us relatively close to the subject or farther away. This aspect of framing is usually called camera distance.

Moving Camera/Mobile Frame- Pg 195 The Panning /tilting/moving of the camera.

mobile framing allows the filmmaker to change the camera angle, level, height, or distance during the shot

Duration of the image - Pg 209 Duration of the Image: The amount of time a frame/shot is on the screen,example The Long Take.

Scene 1 This is the scene between Riggan and his daughter when he realizes she is smoking pot.

This scene begins with Riggan returning theatre, He passes by a room where his daughter was he realizes that she was smoking pot which leads to a heated conversation between them

At the beginning of this scene, a Steadicam shot was used as we following Riggan. we almost feel like its a continuous shot, which helps the audience to feel more present with them.

There is one shot in the beginning of the scene where Riggan stood outside the door and spoke to Sam before entering, this shot was framed such that the audiences looked at Sam over the shoulders of Riggan. This generates a feeling where the audiences were separate from Riggan and peeping over his shoulders to look at Sam as he does so. It created a feeling of curiosity and what's about to happen next, And then there was a whip pan when the camera transitions from Riggan to a close up on Sam.

It felt as though the camera was a third person in the room, turning his head from Riggan to Sam consecutively as they took turns to respond to each other.

As it feels like one shot with no obvious cuts, we feel like we are present with them. The switch in point of views using pans was important to get a more complete sense of what was happening and the emotions of the characters. The depth of field (with backgrounds blurry) , camera framing to medium shots and continuous long take engages the audience in the argument in a deeper manner.

Scene 2 This is the scene where Riggan awakens on small staircase in front of building after a drunken night out.

The scene starts out with a short time-lapse accompanied with non-diegetic score, showing us the time that has passed. As the time-lapse passes the camera moves down in one fast movement to reveal sleeping Riggan Thomson at the staircase.

As he gets up and starts walking down the sidewalk his inner voice is talking to him. The camera appears to move with him, making his head the main focus with the close up follow shoot as he is walking . We see medium depth of field as the background is blurry but just enough for us to both focus on Riggan and see some of the background.

As the Birdman (Riggan alter ego) continues to talk ,the camera now moves away into a mid shoot showing both Riggan and the imaginary Birdman character behind him walking along.

When Riggan snaps his fingers and camera moves fast to the left into medium long shoot to show a rocket blowing up a parked car across the street and then we see People are shouting and one of them says “Oh my god there’s somebody up there!”.

As the camera climbs up the building we see Riggan standing there on the edge of the rooftop. He has seemingly gave himself super powers and starts flying.

The camera movements , the camera shots and duration of the frame give context to the mental state of the protagonist.

Scene 3 Birdman Ending scene

It is hard to say exactly when this scene starts because of the fact that the whole movie is shot in the illusion of one continuous long take. Let’s say it starts right when Riggan’s ex-wife leaves his room and Riggan begins to get ready for the final scene.

He puts on his wig, starts doing vocal warm ups, and to the viewers surprise grabs a real gun, All while he is preparing for his final , the camera is floating around him tracking his movements.

After Riggan has cocked the gun he raises his arm to point to the door. The camera turns to where he is pointing and starts to move separately from Riggan.

As the camera begins to move out the door and through the hallway,as the camera moves along with the drums it adds a sense of anxiety of what is about to happen. After a while camera angle changes and we see Riggan walks in front of the camera and then Riggan enters the stage with gun in his hand.

The camera movement, tracking shots, duration of the shots helps us understand the journey of crisis and transformation in which aging actor questions the true worth of

[danmainacc]

FIRST SIGHT

Leo meets (y/n) for the first time....and is absolutely whipped

Character: Leonardo

Writing type: One-shot

Warnings: just some good ol’ fluffy fluff :) but when I tell you Leo is WHIPPED ;) and if you couldn’t tell, this is pre-movie

Author’s note: I promise I’m gonna get to the other turtles soon. I just have Leo on the brain and I can’t get him out !! and let me know if I got too mushy, cause I feel like I did. I feel like i did a bad job on this one, but I’m not sure. you guys let me know. ( header credit to qoeww )

...

“This isn’t exactly how I expected Pizza Thursday to go!” Leo exclaimed as he got into a battle stance, the pizza--monster--yokai--thing roaring, mushrooms and olives flying out its mouth

“Yeah, well I don’t think everyone expects a mutant pizza monster to attack them on their weekly outing,” Donnie sighed, flipping down his goggles as he pressed a button on his staff, two jets appearing at the ends.

“It’s alright. This guy doesn’t seem too tough. We’ll bake him and get back to Pizza Thursday before we kn--MIKEY!! STOP EATING THE MONSTER!” Raph’s eyes went wide as he caught sight of his youngest brother. 

The pizza-yokai cocked a bell-pepper eyebrow, looking down at it’s foot, only to let out a horrified shout at the sight of Mikey nibbling on his ankle.

“Whraf can I sayph? Hessh sawwr goowd!” Mikey smiled with a full mouth, disregarding his brother and continuing to chow down.

“Gross, man,” Leo grimaced, shuddering at the sight as he cringed away from the scene.

Donnie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “’Angelo, if you’re gonna eat him, at least talk without your mouth full.”

“ENOUGH!” The yokai roared, flinging Mikey off his ankle and into Donnie, the two crashing into a window.

“Guys!” Raph exclaimed, snapping his head over to the window, worriedly.

Two shaky thumbs up slowly raised from behind the now shattered window, and Raph let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” Leo spat, his usual shit-eating grin replaced with an icy glare.

“Leo, wait! Don’t r--.” But the sound of a closing portal cut Raph off, making him groan in frustration.

“Rush in.”

Leo appeared in mid-air, right in front of the monster, and sliced off the olives it used for eyes, chopping off its weird crust feet once he landed on the ground.

“Guess you could say I really...sliced things up,” his smirk returned as he proudly stood up, his back to the yokai.

The thing, now blind and footless, let out a blood-curdling roar, swinging and flailing in every direction like a wild animal.

“Leo, behind you!” Raph, Don, and Mikey warned in unison, Leo not turning around fast enough.

The monster’s cheese arm sent Leo flying head first towards a brick wall.

“LEO!” his brother’s frantically shouted, trying to make it to the wall before he collided.

“Nope, nope nope!” Leo quickly said, creating a portal in front of himself just in the nick of time.

Now, instead of having his brains splattered on a wall, he was now strewn over a whole bunch of soft garbage bags.

He let out a sigh of relief, tiredly letting his head lay limp.

‘Never thought I’d be so thankful for trash.’

But as his angle changed, he was able to view the ledge of a rooftop, what he saw making his heart stop dead in it’s tracks.

It felt as if all the world’s distractions were sucked out, horns, sirens, the squeaking of rats, all to let this moment stand alone.

Sitting on the ledge was the most jaw-dropping girl Leo had ever seen.

Her hair, her eyes, skin. Hell, it had looked like she had been dozing off. But her half-lidded smile at the stars made his heart start up again, now thumping twice as fast. 

Leo quickly rubbed his eyes, just to be sure he wasn’t seeing things.

He hit his head pretty hard.

But she was still there, looking down at him, actually. She looked concerned.

Wait, was she talking?

“Huh?” Leo groggily asked, shaking himself out of his reverie as he focused on what she was saying

“I asked if you were you alright? You crashed pretty hard,” you called from above, your voice smooth and silky.

Practically music.

“Oh, yeah! I’m okay! Right as reign!” Leo smiled, quickly changing his sprawled out position to a relaxed one, mentally scolding himself once he realized what he said.

‘Right as reign? You are such an idiot.’

A kind smile quirked on your lips. “That still sounded bad. I’m gonna come down,” you squinted, trying to make out the figure below.

Leo frantically got up, dusting off banana peels and stray apple cores as he drew his swords. 

He had to get out of there and fast.

There was no way she could see him. She’d probably be grossed out at the fact he was a turtle-guy.

Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to do nothing else but stay and talk to the super-model before him. 

But being a mutant isn’t exactly the best conversation starter.

You carefully stood up, wary of you balance as you planted a foot right on the ledge.

But, unluckily, the brick fell out, causing you to free fall from the top of the roof.

You let out a terrified yelp, and without a beat, Leo was already in the air, catching you and pulling you tightly against his plastron.

You curiously felt at his plastron, making the poor turtle turn dark red, before opening your eyes, going wide at the sight of him.

In that moment, your stomach dropped to your feet. 

The portal that he just jumped out of was no never mind right now, you were more concerned with him.

Even with the turtle-y parts, you still found this man incredibly handsome. Shit, if anything, the turtle-y bits might’ve assisted in that department.

“Whoa, careful there,” Leo smiled, safely landing on the ground with the two of you still in tact.

“Wouldn’t want you falling for me.”

You smiled as Leo put you down, a soft laugh leaving your lips that made him practically melt.

“Are you alri--.”

You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug, giving him a quick squeeze.

“Thank you for catching me. I’d probably be dead if you didn’t,” you sighed, the recent events now sinking in.

Leo was thanking the stars that hugs didn’t let you see the other person, because on the other side, he was blushing like a maniac.

“No problem,” he, surprisingly, managed to say without a voice-crack. “What were you--uh--what were you doing on the ledge, anyway?”

The two of you pulled away, and you awkwardly scratched the back of your neck, hoping you didn’t overstep anything with the hug.

“Oh, I just like to sit there and think. The view helps me really focus,” you sheepishly answered, looking up at him through your lashes, the height difference now very clear.

“I’m just glad you were here to catch me.”

He smiled a bashful smile, avoiding eye contact with you at all costs. “It was no biggie.”

You smiled, thoughtlessly checking your watch to see that it was way past midnight.

“Shit. It’s past my curfew. I gotta go,” you sadly sighed, pointing back to your building.

Leo pouted.

You were going? Already? But he had just met you.

“Will I see you again?” he asked, a little more desperate than he wanted.

You grinned, shooting him a nod. “Of course. I got too many questions to not see you again.”

You whipped out your phone, pulling up the contacts app. “Here,” you handed it to him, “Type in your cell so we can text.”

His smile stretched from ear to ear as he carefully took your phone, punching in his number and handing it back to you.

You took the phone back and threw an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for a selfie and taking it in one motion, the poor turtle blurry and blushing.

“There,” you quietly snickered, making the unprepared photo his profile picture. “All set.”

You turned to the turtle, giving him a regal curtsy. “Until we meet again, good sir.”

Leo smirked, playing along and bowing. “Until we meet again, madame.”

And with that, you flashed him one more smile before stuffing your hands in your pockets, walking around the alley corner and right into your complex.

Once Leo was completely sure you were out of ear-shot, he sighed, slumping against the alley wall.

‘That....was amazing.’

He whipped out his phone, his heart wanting to text you right away, but his head knew it was too soon, scraping the idea.

But what he did see, was 15 missed texts from Donnie, 6 from Mikey, and 146 from Raph.

‘Oh, I am so dead.’

...

[full-of-mercy]

There he is—and there he goes, leaving the family in the apartment behind. Safer that way for them, perhaps, even if the sound of their argument pitches loud enough that anyone with ears and a set of eyes could figure out the supposedly unoccupied building is in fact occupied by several someones.

They earn a couple of pot-shots from another angle for their trouble, bullets shattering otherwise harmlessly against the flank of brick and stucco. Dire warning.

Not nearly so dire as the warning Vash serves to the rifleman, who stares up at his looming shape through the hole in his hat brim. The crimson-coated man cuts an ominous figure, so quick in ascent that the hunter barely caught a glimpse of his shots, much less when he holstered his weapon.

It's something in the silhouette. Some thrum of power that tells him exactly where he stands. Face blanching white, the man chokes. Fingers suddenly numb drop both the rifle and its spare magazine as he retreats, tumbling onto his buttocks and scrambling back from the edge. Boots and denim scuff on grit as he attempts to put as much space as possible between himself and the Humanoid Typhoon.

He runs out of room, back and hips against the lip of the other side of the rooftop, and promptly lifts his hands, gesturing with trembling fingertips.

"...ahaha, haha, you-" gulp "-you better tell that to them."

Down below, three-shot reports from city-bought weapons echo through the street and around the bend. It is too far up here to hear the shouts associated, but there comes a retort.

The familiar bark of a Grader answers. The following pained cry is audible.

More burst fire. The period between them shortens, a conversation held in screaming lead and brass. So much ammunition expended, and Wolfwood's reply is singular, periodic, steady.

Nicholas is not about to give up and die here in the middle of goddamned nowhere, not in this getup, and especially not when someone damn well recognized Vash the Stampede as his traveling companion. All good things must come to an end, he should've known that the wedding situation was just too good to be true. Payment is payment solid in his pocket, though, so what if he's currently bleeding on it?

He's dealt with worse. He's dealt with worse on his own, without the freezing blue glow of Communion. Nevermind the prickle at the back of his skull, the muted chill down his right side, the sweat matting his hair to his brow and his neck. Pain is galvanizing. Adrenaline is a powerful analgesic, and the partial dose he mauls from the serum-soaked bag is a drip-feed; it will have to be enough.

He lost line of sight on Vash, but he knows he's up there on the second terrace somewhere. This is a mid-point. He perches with his back to the lip of a wall, wounded flank to a nook, Punisher an effective barrier between himself and his oncoming pursuers. Tactical, if impractical, the bottleneck forces them up a narrow cut of stairs.

Elbow propped on the arm of the cross, he squeezes precise shots between their volleys.

Three, six, nine, crack! Red mist sprays from one pursuer's shoulder. Another stops to drag his comrade out of the line of fire, while a third starts to make the climb, burst-fire peppering the stucco with pocks and blistering debris down in a chalky rain. Wolfwood peeks out, squeezes the trigger. Crack! the climber's knee shatters, sending him tumbling back down the stairs toward his friends.

There are others, though.

Others working to find a sniping angle from a business on the next tier up, too.

"Wh—wait—dies? What kind of—" Vash catches himself before he keeps stammering or insults someone's culture, "They'd really kill a holy man for that?! I figured they just wanted to rough him up a bit, get him to annul it, not kill him!" He ignores the salty taste of the term 'holy man' in reference to Wolfwood that coats his tongue. Holy man, he is not.

He itches to run while the family continues to argue, but the boy catches him by the leg, "Mister, the Tates follow a track of blood like a pack of hounds. If they're really after you, best you let us wrap that up at least."

Vash slouches, lifting his pant leg to fully expose the hit to his shin, "Okay, okay—but really, it's just a scratch, and if they're really trying to kill him out there—I gotta—"

"Well if he gets to the church, he should be fine. Wasn't too far from the venue," the uncle, Jim, seemingly wins the argument with his wife and lights his pipe, "Even a Tate wouldn't dare kill a man in a church."

"I don't know about that," his wife pipes in, as though looking to start another argument.

Jim shrugs at her, not having it, "What? Far be it from me to defend a Tate. Hell, they might; never thought about them marryin' anyone other than one of their own." He coughs up a laugh, then chokes on the inhale of his own smoke.

The sentiment almost comforts him, until it doesn't.

Wolfwood would never run off to a church for sanctuary, he thinks. He's likely... trying to get to the inn, probably took a vial, gathering all their stuff, and looking to get out of Dodge as fast as possible. Hopefully.

A rifle shot rings out, and it's not aimed at him. Several inaccurate Grader shots, a shaky hand probably. That's Wolfwood's sidearm, there's no doubt about it. Vash tears his leg away and leans outside the balcony—wherever the shots came from is nearby.

"Prob'ly the mayor they got. Wouldn't know why he'd come this way though," the older man muses, "Figured he'd be gettin' the couple out of town."

"Stupid—stupid! If he followed me instead of running, I'm seriously gonna..." the outlaw shoves his hands through his hair, causing the strands to perk up in messier peaks than usual. The family just stares at him—the young man tugs at his leg again, finishing the tie on a bandage made from a sheet over some gauze, which appeared to be part of a seat cushion. The aunt just now notices and begins to scold him for it.

"Thank you, I have to go find him now. He's very important to me," Vash waves them off and hunches on the fencing of the tilted balcony like a gargoyle. There it is—a trail of blood.

Wait.

Why hasn't he taken a vial yet? The blood tracks don't match where the shot rang out from—so they're not from the rifle just moments ago...

Oh. Oh no.

The tracks round the corner, and so does Vash's hawk-like gaze. The silhouette of a man in a hat with a heavy rifle stands out under the light of the suns. He's atop a terrace, slowly approaching the edge with his weapon trained on something.

Vash clambers off the balcony with newfound panic. He's hunched, trying not to draw attention as he rounds the tops of the buildings to the terrace. He takes a few pot-shots at the man—one leaving a smoking hole in the brim of his hat—and hops onto the terrace.

"Drop the gun, and leave the man alone," He hasn't actually seen Wolfwood down there, but he knows, he knows and he's terrified as to what he'll see. His brows furrow in rare seriousness, a scowl crosses his face. Vash keeps his revolver at his side, still loaded with three shots, pointedly not pointing it at the behatted man, "This fight is over."

[hattywatch]

J. Vesey - July For the Whole Year Ch. 1

A/n: Hello all! It's been a while, but I'm still lurking about. I heard that Jimmy was back on the table for the Rangers a few months ago and started this, with endgame in mind that he'd be back and NOW HE IS. I decided to do chapters so it's easier to consume. We're clocking about 35 pages currently. It's about 90% completed, so the subsequent chapters should be up fairly quickly. This is 100% self-serving. I wanted a disgustingly long will-they-won't-they, friends to lovers, so I had to do it my damned self. Stop by, say hi, stay awhile; I read all comments, tags, messages etc- so don't be shyyyy!) Please check out my Masterlist (I finally made one!) if you want some more content :)

_______________________________

August 2017

“PIVOT!” a decidedly male voice shouts from down the hall. You almost laugh, but it’s 8am on a Saturday and you don’t really want to commit to being fully awake quite yet. 

“Dude, that was not funny 2 floors down, and it’s even less funny now-” still male, but another voice answers back. 

It seems like Stella, the building manager, has finally found someone to let the large three-bedroom at the end of the hall. It’s been vacant for the whole summer, which was nice. The floor only has 2 other 1 bedroom apartments, so it’s been you and Mr.Callahan for the better part of 3 months. He’s a septuagenarian and hardly makes any noise, so it's been akin to having the entire 4th floor to yourself and it's been too short-lived for your taste. To say you were delighted when the last tenants moved out is an understatement. You haven’t had to vie for the elevator, wake up to any loud music, or have a sneezing fit- which aroused your suspicion of a contraband feline residing nearby. You’re sad to have it come to an end, but maybe they’ll quiet down once they move in. 

Rolling over, you wedge your face in between your pillows, successfully blocking the sound and falling back into a gentle doze. 

______

Two weeks later, you’re sitting on the rooftop deck, lounging like a dog in the sun, sipping an iced-coffee from the cafe down the street and reading a magazine when the rooftop door opens to a boisterous duo, mid-conversation. 

“Brady will do it again this year. You watch. No way he retires, he’s got too much left in him. Guy’s an animal-” they’re both tall, but the sandy haired one is loud, clearly from Boston- his R’s dropping at the end of his words, making “Year,” sound wrong to your ears, attuned for New York City. 

“I’m not doubting him, man. He’s just getting up there,” they sit at the table next to you, clad in swim-suits, clearly about to use the pool- the paint is chipped and worn, but the water is crystal blue and chlorinated enough that even the unwashed masses of the city can’t sully it. The small pool is your favorite perk of the aged building.

Hiding your eyes behind your sunglasses, you size them up. They're young, likely in their twenties and they're both fit as hell, thick and muscled. Not a bad sight, but you'd hate to leer, so you go back to your magazine, only half paying attention to the chatter next to you as it moves from sport to sport before they finally walk towards the water.

It's cold, you know it's freezing, which is why you’ve chosen to tan and not float around in the water. One of the kids in the building had an accident in it last weekend; it had to be drained and cleaned and it hasn't had the time to warm up yet. It seemed almost silly to refill it now, since there's barely two weeks left of summer, but who are you to complain?

“Jesus Christ!” You can’t really hold back the laughter even though you try, so a choked snort makes its way out despite your best efforts. The sandy haired one is only in the water up to his knees and the darker haired one hasn’t even started his descent down the pool steps yet, and you don’t want to be the creep eavesdropping and gawking, so you pull your magazine up a little higher over your face to hide. 

“You could have warned us! It’s fuckin’ ice cold,” he retreats up the steps and sits back in his chair on the deck. “I’m Kevin, I just moved here. This is Brady.” Kevin sticks his hand out to shake, and you drop Cosmopolitan onto the wire table in front of you to meet his grip. 

His handshake is strong and warm. “Here, New York, or here, this building?” you ask after giving him your name. Brady leans in after Kevin, hand outstretched, so you shake his too. 

“This building. I’ve been in New York a couple-a years now. But we just moved to this building a few weeks ago. We’re down on 4; us and our buddy Jimmy.” You nod and tell him you’re on 4 too, but then his phone rings and it’s Jimmy and he has pizza. They invite you down to eat, but you decline, wanting to soak up as much summer as possible before the weather turns biting and fall’s crisp air rolls into the city. 

“Nice to meet you! We’ll see you around. Don’t be a stranger!” They wave jovially as they continue through the rooftop door. They seem nice enough. Saving your magazine from the condensation sweating down your coffee cup, you pick up where you left off - “How to Find a Normal Dude on a Dating App,” and wonder how they can possibly pass the same garbage off as something new each month.

______

It’s 2 o’ clock in the morning, according to the glance you give at your way-too-bright phone, and you hear the scraping of a key in your lock. It’s scary because your building is generally safe, and you can count on one hand the number of people who have a copy of your key- Stella the building manager, your elderly neighbor Mr. Callahan, and one ex who you ended it with over 6 months ago. The latter is the only one that makes sense since you know Stella leaves by 8pm each evening and Mr. Callahan is in bed shortly after his early-bird dinner at 4pm. 

If it is someone with malicious intent, they’re certainly not trying to sneak in, they’re cursing loudly and wrenching the knob that refuses to turn. The console table next to your front door houses your keyring, equipped with a small can of mace, so you grab it before checking the peephole. 

“Kevin are you fucking kidding me?” You unlock the door and yank it open to Kevin’s sleepy face on the other side. His eyes are droopy and his smile is lopsided. 

“Heyyyy, what are you doing at our house?!” You’ve seen Kevin around often since meeting him and Brady at the pool a few weeks ago. He’s always coming to or from the gym, or grabbing take-out, or the bar- which is probably the case right now. Kevin is good people, so you can’t find yourself getting too mad at the disturbance. 

Pocketing your keys in your robe, you join him in the hallway. “This isn’t your house, you dweeb. It’s mine,” he looks slightly confused before spinning around in the hall at his surroundings. 

“I see the problem now,” you’re not sure that he actually sees much of anything, since he looks a little worse for the wear right now, but he looks down to the floor before smiling back up at you, “your doormat should have tipped me off… we definitely never bought a doormat.”

He’s wobbly at best, so you grab him by the elbow and steer him towards his door. “Your boys home? Who’s going to tuck you in, bud? Make sure you have some water and get to bed okay?” Kevin is having a hard time with his keys, so you take the tangled ring and try a few before giving up and knocking loudly. 

“Hey!! I have something that belongs to you!” Kevin giggles and rests his forehead against the wall next to the door. 

The locks on the other side make a metallic jerking noise before the door is yanked open. You assume it’s the elusive 3rd roommate, Jimmy, since it’s certainly not Brady. Kevin has mentioned him in passing, but your paths haven’t crossed yet in the few weeks since they’ve moved in. 

He sighs and steps out into the hallway to get a look at Kevin. “You’re kidding me. How did you even make it home?”

“He didn’t,” you interject, “well… he made it to the building and then he tried to get into my apartment. Damn near maced him. He scared the crap out of me.” Jimmy seems to notice you for the first time. 

He looks a little sheepish when he responds, “I’m so sorry, he’s harmless really. Just drank a bit too much, I’m sorry he woke you up. We’re still pretty new to the building, he must have been confused.”

You smile, “It’s okay. I live down the hall and we met a few weeks ago. Good for him actually… it’s bear mace, so...” Kevin is still leaning heavy against the wall when you look over at him. 

“Oh, yeah- Brady mentioned you, I think. (y/n)?” Jimmy leans against the door jamb, arms crossed, and smiles- warm, like it’s not an inconvenience for you to be knocking on his door dragging an inebriated friend home to be taken care of. 

“That’s me…” you pause, not really wanting to get into a conversation at this time of night, the siren song of your soft bed and warm covers calling you back, “Do you think you can give him some water? Maybe some aspirin and make sure he gets to bed?”

Jimmy nods slowly as you talk, before the words seem to land and he nods more vigorously. “Oh, yeah of course… I am sorry, though- again. Thanks for getting him home, I got him from here,” he pulls Kevin over the threshold of the apartment, but doesn’t follow him down the hallway yet. 

“I’m Jimmy, by the way- nice to meet you and thanks again for not pepper spraying Kev.” You step one foot backwards, still looking in Jimmy’s direction. 

“Anytime, Jim. Make sure he survives the night.”

Jimmy smiles and salutes, “You got it. See you around, (y/n)” with one last wave, he closes the door and you finally head back to bed, knocking out as soon as you hit the pillow. 

______

Sunday morning you sleep in until 10, you feel like you’ve earned it after your night was interrupted however, Sundays are also for cleaning, so while your coffee is brewing, you pick a playlist on your phone and turn it on, loud enough that you can hear it throughout your apartment, but low enough to not bother Mr.Callahan through the thin walls. 

You’re halfway through cleaning out your fridge, dumping expired items into the garbage pail and making a grocery list for things to replenish, when there’s a sharp knock on your door. It’s not like you’re expecting company, so you glance at the mirror in the bathroom to make sure you’re decent before checking the peephole and opening the door to Jimmy. 

“Good morning,” you’re cheery, invigorated by the 2 cups of coffee you’ve downed so far and the adrenaline from being productive pumping through your veins.  

He has a brown paper bag in his hand, and he smiles, a small blush high on his cheekbones, and you can tell he’s much more reserved than Kevin, who is gregarious, loud, and boisterous each and every time you’ve bumped him since the very first day you met. 

“Uh, hey. Good morning. Hope I’m not bothering you-” he pauses and looks for permission to continue. You didn’t notice last night, half asleep and bleary, but he has the same accent as Kevin and you peg him as a Bostonian as well. 

Shaking your head you assure him, “Not at all. It’s daytime, that’s typically when visitors are expected. Let Kevin know, I don’t think he’s heard.” You smile and he huffs out a small chuckle.

He hands the paper bag over to you. “Just wanted to thank you again for being so cool about last night. Kev had a rough week and he felt like shit this morning when he realized what happened. He’s still sleeping it off, but just a little peace offering.”

The bag has the logo of the cafe down the street, where you frequently grab coffees and breakfast when you’re running late for work. “I just grabbed some bagels and a bacon, egg, and cheese. Heard that’s the way to a New Yorker’s heart…” he stops awkwardly as you unroll the top of the bag, and peer inside, “You’re not a vegan or anything are you… I didn’t even think about that. Hope it’s oka-”

“It’s great, Jimmy. Did you want to come in? There’s a ton of food here and I just made a fresh pot of coffee.” You step to the side and hold the door open, giving him a clear path into the house. 

He smiles again, it lifts up higher on one side of his mouth. “One cup can’t hurt I guess,” he steps in past you, nose leading him to the coffee pot on the counter. 

______

Jimmy stays for a few hours, he’s easy to talk to, quieter than Kevin, but you can immediately tell he’s got a sharp wit and it comes out the longer he sits in your kitchen, hat backwards and refilling his cup whenever it gets low. You start off talking about Kevin over your bagels and coffee, before devolving into how they know each other (distant cousins who grew up in Boston- you were right about the accent), and then he’s happy to talk about back home, opening up a little and telling you all the best spots in town, “I’m a local, so you know they’re good. You can’t go off google, that’s not authentic,” and defending ‘Dunks’ against all other coffee in the known world. 

“An extra extra? What the hell is that?” You’re topping off his coffee, grabbing the sugar canister off the counter and putting it on the table in front of him. 

“Extra cream, extra sugar. Why, what do you call it here?” 

“Fucking disgusting?” You laugh at your own joke, adding milk to your coffee, “Light and sweet I guess? Tell me something else in Boston.” His posture is relaxed as he leans back in his chair and starts talking about the Harvard Library, of all things. 

You’re happy with how Jimmy opens up sitting in your kitchen on a Sunday morning- chore list forgotten with both of your dishes sitting in the sink. You haven’t felt self conscious for one second even though you’re in your pajamas, hair in a sloppy bun on your head as you compare childhoods in the largest cities on the eastern seaboard. 

The conversation has turned to Game of Thrones, and he’s putting up a pretty good argument for you to start binging it, “I swear it’s like a movie every week. The production value is incredible,” when there’s a knock on your door. 

“More people have knocked on this damned door in the last 12 hours than have in the last 3 years. Sorry Jim, one sec- let me see who that is.” It’s equal parts surprising and unsurprising when you see Kevin on the other side of the peephole. The easy choice is to let him in, turn back around, and walk him to the kitchen as he stammers out his apologies, trailing behind you. 

“Jimmy apologizes better. He brought food,” You take your seat across from Jimmy at your small kitchen table again, as Kevin looks visibly shocked to see Jimmy there, one eyebrow making its way up in question. Jimmy immediately turns bright red when he meets Kevin’s eye. 

He makes himself at home, leaning against your counter and opening up the paper bag before selecting a bagel. “Butter in the fridge?” you nod and he helps himself. “I was wondering where you went, bro. I’ve been up for hours and you haven’t answered one text. I was about to head to the gym to look for you.”

Picking his phone up, Jimmy grits his teeth, “Ah, sorry. Time got away from me. I was supposed to be training, but I stopped by to apologize- for your dumb ass by the way- and we got to talking, I didn’t check my phone.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Kevin tells him it’s no big around the bitten off hunk of bagel wedged in his cheek. “You got plans today, (y/n)?” He chews heartily before you shake your head no, and Kevin lists off about five things that he wants to do, clearly no longer plagued by a hangover. Jimmy meets your eye and you shrug. 

“Sure, let me get ready.” You haven’t had a friend in the building before, but it feels a lot like you just made a few.

[welcometothemaraudersspam]

chance | l. ackerman x reader

everything about her seemed to attract every type of person.

people younger.

people older.

people of the same sex.

people of the opposite.

but she paid no mind.

her only mission in life was to kill these titans and to get your life back to normal. and until she did that, she would push every person aside.

or so she thought.

she had never understood how people could do stupid things like putting themselves at risk for love, it wasn't until that someone came into her life and showed her how to fix that part of her that she finally understood. that the feeling of loving someone was too good to let go. and she was gonna make sure that no one would ever hurt her or her loved one until she died.

word count: 1,151 words

warnings: gore, cursing

part 2 here!

—————————— ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ——————————

 A loud grunt left her lips as she flung her whole body towards the titan coming her way, twirling mid air until she was face to face with the nape of its neck. The wind slapped her face harshly, digging her blades into its neck feeling every inch of it as she sliced his skin, swiping as hard as she could to her left. The sight of its chunk of skin flinging off merely satisfied her, jerking back as her ODM gear latched itself into a wall behind her. The 10 meter titan collapsed on the floor almost as quickly as it had appeared. Without letting her guard down she proceeded to go on foot landing on a nearby roof, running as quickly as she could from rooftop to rooftop in search of any other titan. 

The scouts were trying to make sure no titans came anywhere close to Eren who was a bit preoccupied with a boulder on his back. Suri wasn't entirely sure how this all came to be, but she was choosing to ignore it until after they had plugged up the wall.

She knew Eren.

She knew that boy would never do anything to harm any of them, so she wasn’t worried. 

“Hey! What’s got your head in the clouds, pumpkin?” Jean shouted, landing not so effortlessly beside the girl. She rolled her eyes, not letting her stride falter.

“Don’t worry about it, Kirstein. Also- what?”

“I thought it was cute,”

“Well, you thought wrong.” She huffed, brushing her hair out of her face, her eyes scanning her surroundings. Jean smirked at the stern look in her face, facing forward. The pair of you broke into a sprint, the hissing of her gear was all that was heard as she sped in the direction of a 7 meter titan making his way towards Connie. 

“Hyah!” She screamed, allowing her body to put as much of her frustration into that hit making the titan fall down a gush of steam slapping her face. Connie spun on his heel, a shocked expression etched on his lips. Without halting her movements feeling the burning sensation of titan blood on her face, “You have to be more careful, Springer!” 

The wind was twirling her hair, making it almost impossible to see. She angrily huffed, coming to a stop on a stone pillar. Hurriedly throwing her hair up into a tight bun so it couldn’t get in her line of vision. 

“Watch out!” The sound of someone screaming near her made her freeze, jumping up into the air. She looked down at her feet, noticing that a titan hand had narrowly missed her by less than an inch. Shaking her head at her recklessness, latching her hook onto a nearby building, arching her body backwards as she flung yourself into a ready position. Twirling her blades in her hands, effortlessly hitting its nape sending the smiling freak tumbling face first. Bits of rubble found their way flying towards her cheek, leaving small cuts as she sped off towards the remaining scouts. 

“What happened to being more careful-”

“Connie, respectfully, I will shove my foot up your ass if you finish that sentence of yours.”

“How do you know he isn’t into that?” Jean retorted, a playful glint in his eyes. A small smile made its way onto her lips as she eyed the buzzed boy whose mouth was wide open. Suri leaned over and shut it for him, ruffling the small strands of hair he had on his head. 

“He’s only jokin’”

“No I wasn’t-”

“Kirstein, I swear to god.” She rolled her eyes at the sandy haired boy, who chuckled at her threat. At this point she had managed to wipe out all the titans nearby, her hands dropping slightly as she adjusted her grip on them. “I wonder how many more titans there are left…”

“I mean if we’re not counting the 50 over by where Armin is, then I’d say 0.” Connie sighed, eyeing her frame as she turned your head to see where Armin had led all the titans. A small wince left her lips at the sight of all of their clamoring hands pawing at the wall.

“I wouldn’t say 0 quite yet, Springer.” Jean interjected, tapping his sword against hers gaining her attention. She turned to face him, who was nodding in the direction of Eren. 

“Fuck me…” The three of you had caught sight of five 10 meter titans that had just marched in through the entrance. Throwing her head back a groan leaving her lips, readying herself to take off.  “Don’t get yourselves killed. If you die, I’m reincarnating you just to kill you myself.”

“You be safe too, Suri!”

A bubble of laughter left her lips, throwing herself off the rooftop, her ODM gear latching onto a concrete wall sending her body flying towards the titans.

The familiar sensation of the wind slapping her calmed her in a way, keeping her attentive to her actions, eyes never once leaving the approaching limbs.

One thing that Suri bragged about when it came to being a cadet, was how agile she was while flying.

She was one of the fastest, along with Mikasa. The two girls had never failed to impress. Her swiftness and ability to kill titans like she was sleeping was a god given gift. Every ounce of her strength went into every strike, while making it look effortless. 

“Why don’t you assholes fucking die?” She growled under her breath, her blades down by your knees. 

The sound of her gas hissing caught the attention of 3 of them, their huge eyes eyeing her like a carcass of meat. Smiling at the sight of them, swinging herself around them as a way of taunting them. 

They all had the same fucking look in their eyes. Hunger. She didn’t know why, but seeing those 3 helpless titans swing their limbs in every attempt to grab her filled her with so much rage. Swiping her tongue across her bottom lip, wetting it as she hovered above them.

Suri shot her hook straight across them, flinging up into the air a loud laugh leaving her lips. I hope you assholes rot in hell.  

Leaving her swords to her right as she sped by them, the sound of her blades cutting through their flesh was like music to her ears as each one dropped right after the other.

Their blood coated her head to toe the stinging sensation from their boiling blood made her wince, wiping it off the corner of her mouth in disgust discarding the chipped swords.

The sound of Eren howling to her right made her tense up, watching as he flung the boulder into the entrance, a humongous gust of dirt and rubble flying towards her. The sound of people cheering sent a wave of relief over her, locking her swords back in place proceeding to fly down to where Levi was currently standing over a titans dead body.

“-tell me what the hell I’m looking at."

authors note: hey lovelies! im starting a new series about aot, and i really hope y'all enjoy it. i've been kinda experimenting with a bunch of new things and new ways of writing so hopefully all goes good! feedback and requests are always welcome!

[haverdoodles]

The Fiddler

— (Gloria Trevelyan)

.

As Gloria Trevelyan dodged yet another sword being thrown at her person, she found herself wondering how she had possibly managed to end up in this situation again.

She observed with great interest as the sword buried itself into the wooden beam where her head had been moments earlier. “That was a rather good toss,” she told the man who stood heaving a few paces away. “Do you play darts?”

He bared his three yellow teeth in a snarl, and from the sheath around his waist withdrew another sword. This one was particularly nasty-looking, with a line of rusty ridges running up the front. Gloria, who much preferred being alive then dead in a dank ditch somewhere, decided that perhaps it was time to leave.

“It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen!” She called out to the sea of furious faces in The Gull’s Nest. “Or, well - it might’ve been better if you’d have just let me finish playin–”

“Yer a fiddler!” One of the men shouted. “Yer supposed to play ballads and the like, not sing songs about bedding our wives!”

“Really? I rather liked that one,” Gloria muttered, and raised her hands in surrender as a sea of steel rose in warning. “Right, point taken. Now, I’ve somewhere to be, so as those Orlesians like to say - au revoir!”

In her frequent dodges from the weapons and assorted furniture that had been hurled at her in a maelstrom of marital fury, Gloria had been subtly inching her way towards the open window of the tavern. This came in handy now as she tucked her fiddle under one arm and proceeded to throw herself out of it.

Having grown up in Ostwick, Gloria knew the city’s twisting alleyways and narrow streets like the back of her hand. As a result, she felt no fear when she spent a disorienting moment mid-air, because soon she was sinking into a crouch onto the tiled roof of a house just outside.

She could hear the men exclaiming in outrage and grinned to herself. It would be mere moments before they gave chase, so in an effort to give herself a head start she began nimbly sprinting across the rooftops.

Gloria’s favourite part of Ostwick was its famous blue roofing tiles. From her angle, it was like she was running across an azure sea, so alike to the one that waited just beyond the city’s fortified walls. She took one last admiring look before hopping down between two buildings and landing in a raised alleyway below.

Gloria gave the neck of her fiddle an affectionate pat, like one would with a pet. “You’re a troublemaker Ned, getting me to play all of those raunchy songs.” She told it fondly. “That’s alright, we can be troublemakers together.”

“There she is!”

Gloria yelped as an axe clattered violently to the ground by her feet, hopping out of the way. She glanced over her shoulder at the angry mob blocking the mouth of the alleyway, then at the dead end in front of her. Only it wasn’t truly a dead end - rays of sunshine shone hopefully over a stone ledge just out of reach. She would have to climb.

“This is why we bring Ned’s case,” Gloria grumbled to herself. She could hear heavy footsteps rapidly approaching. Tucking the bow between her teeth and fastening the neck of the fiddle to the belt around her waist, Gloria hoisted herself onto the stone wall and began to climb. She managed to toss a leg over the ledge and pull herself to safety just as the mob reached her.

Gloria withdrew the bow from her red lips and wagged it playfully at the group of men below. “Tough crowd,” she said, donning a wry smile as iron and steel rose to greet her. “Come now. Is this because I said your daughter’s good in bed?”

She laughed as one of the men in the mob turned an alarming shade of purple. With a final taunting wave, she pushed herself off of the ledge and fell down, down, into the alleyway below.

Gloria landed with a grunt of impact and gracelessly fell on her bottom, wincing. She was in no danger from the mob now; this alleyway was notoriously difficult to find if a person wasn't using Gloria's route, and she doubted that the men would be eager to go jumping off of ledges just to teach a mouthy lass a lesson.

She leaned back against the stone wall and huffed through her nose, absently running her fingers over the strings of the fiddle in her lap. After a moment, she set Ned down beside her. Gloria hadn't intended to piss off the men, not really - all she had wanted was to try playing a song of her own for a crowd instead of the ballads that she defaulted to. One of the men had insulted it, and in a moment of rashness she switched to playing the raunchiest, most insulting songs she could think of.

She wondered what her brothers would say if they had seen the events unfold. Matthew, the eldest, would've given her a disappointed look and told her to repent in the Chantry later, as he always did. He was such a stickler for order and rules and peace, which made her feel infinitely thankful that he was taking up the Lordship. He was practically made for the role of a stuffy ruler.

Connal... Gloria wasn't sure how Connal would react. He was as fiercely independent and rebellious as she was, but he also possessed a strange streak of honour and duty that made him as unpredictable as the shifting breeze. He would either angrily lecture her until her ear fell off, or he'd laugh so hard he'd cry, smacking her on the back with as much zeal as he would any of his male friends.

Gloria frowned uncomfortably as her heart panged. She missed her brother, and that irked her terribly. He undoubtedly thought that he was being very stealthy about his secret smuggling business, but Gloria had seen right through him. She wouldn't dare let him know that she knew his secret though, or else he'd clam up ten times tighter than he already did, the elusive bastard. Being both a noble son and the leader of a covert fleet meant that he was always busy, and months could pass before she caught a glimpse of him again.

A shadow passed over her, blocking out the afternoon sun, and Gloria grimaced. She raised her eyes and immediately groaned. "Oh come on. How did you find me this time?"

It was Dan, the Captain of her mother's personal Guard. He stood impassively over her, one hand braced on the pommel of his sword. It was shaped in the head of a screaming horse, the face of House Trevelyan's crest, and Gloria had grown quite sick of seeing it over the years.

"You weren't exactly subtle," Dan said, a hint of annoyance visible in his aged features. "All I needed to do was follow the angry mob stampeding through the streets. Really, Miss, first your brother, now you?"

Gloria bristled. She knew that Connal presented himself as a scoundrel to Ostwick's society, but it was all a front! Couldn't Dan see that? "I was just having a bit of fun," she snapped. "No one died. Nothing is broken. Can't you leave me be?"

To her surprise, Dan didn't hoist her up like he normally would in this situation. Instead, he crouched down and took a seat beside her, leaning back against the wall with a tired sigh.

Gloria watched him confusedly, an uneasy knot forming in her stomach. Something was different. "Dan...? What happened? What's wrong?"

The Captain didn't respond for a very long moment. Finally, he said, "I was sent to fetch you. Your family is... in an uproar right now. It would appear that your elder brother has gone and joined the Inquisition."

Gloria lurched upwards, whirling on him. "Connal did what?!"

Dan ran a gloved hand over his furrowed brow and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The boy got it into his head that he'd play hero, it seemed. He left in the middle of the night without a word to anyone."

Gloria felt strangely as though she were floating. "Did... did he leave a note at least?"

"Yes. It is in Lady Trevelyan's possession. She is inconsolable at the moment."

"That... that...!" Gloria seethed, before something clicked. She groaned, smacking her forehead. "Oh, that idiot. I know why he's gone."

"Lady Pentaghast," they said together, and shared a commiserating look. Connal's one very obvious weakness.

"Right." She began to pace. "Well, we obviously can't let him do that."

Dan nodded.

"He has a life here, a family!" Gloria continued on, raising her hands. "What could he possibly offer the Inquisition without the support of the Trevelyans? Surely they don't have need for a noble son as just another sword?

Dan nodded again. If Gloria had been paying attention, she would have noticed that he had begun to watch her with a faint glimmer of amusement.

"Dan!" Gloria exclaimed, whirling on him with wide eyes. "I can do it. I can bring Connal back."

"Absolutely not. It is far too dangerous." Dan braced a hand on his knee and rose to his feet. "You'd send the Lady Trevelyan into a fit of apoplexy."

"You trained me with a sword yourself!" Gloria argued, bracing her hands on her hips. "I've got street smarts, experience, I know how to hide myself well. Half of the world doesn't even know that House Trevelyan has a daughter, anyways. Besides, do you really think that Connal would listen to just any messenger that Mother sends his way?"

"He wouldn't," Dan conceded with a nod of his head, "But I doubt he'd be pleased to find that his little sister has thrown herself into the heart of danger just to retrieve him, either."

"That's exactly what will convince him," Gloria insisted, wiggling her brows. "I will use my sisterly wiles to get him to come back to Ostwick with me. 'The longer you stay here, Con, the more likely I am to be killed! You don't want your baby sister dead, do you?'" She batted her lashes, raising her hands to her face in a gesture of woe.

Dan sighed. "I have no idea where you got this manipulative streak from, but it is certainly not from the Lord and Lady."

Gloria bounced giddily on the balls of her feet, certain in her victory. "So you'll do it, then? You'll help me convince Mother?"

Dan extended his hand. In it was her fiddle and bow, polished of dust and dirt, which he had taken into his lap while she had been obliviously pacing. Gloria took it from him and gave Dan a questioning look.

"You've been a caged bird within this city's walls for a very long time, Miss." He said, surprising her with a small half-smile. "While I have no willingness to put you in danger, you need to spread your wings. I think I've chased you around Ostwick for long enough, wouldn't you agree?"

"Dan..." Gloria trailed off, stunned by his admission. She had always viewed the Captain as her jailer, a constant and oppressive presence that prevented her from ever truly experiencing anything. Despite the endless memories she had of the two of them butting heads, however, Gloria could privately admit that he did all of it to protect her, as he did for Connal before her, and Matthew before him. In a way, he was much more like a father figure to them than the Lord Trevelyan himself was.

"That is of course to say that you will be taking a full guard with you on your journey," Dan continued on, effectively shattering any affectionate thoughts she might've been having. "You will be under the utmost protection at all times. You will also be expected to correspond with your family by letter twice daily-"

"Absolutely not!"

[ohmiiigosh]

@forthehonorandtheglory said: "What were you thinking, running off like that?!” ( u____u -pushes a still shaken up Rise!Leo over- )

Protector / Protected Starter Meme (open)

Yet another attempt by the Foot Clan to steal some mystic do-thingy off a ship coming into New York's port meant another attempt by the turtle(s) to thwart them. Mikey was alone, on a Leo-approved solo mission when things quickly got out of hand.

It was unfair! They busted out explosive moves, literally. Little bombs raining down from above, Mikey dancing around them while taking out Foot ninjas. More and more the building threatened to cave in. Fighting broke off as the Foot Clan escaped with the artifact. Mikey made it out too, but as he looked back mid-chase his eyes glimpsed a stray cat scurrying into the building.

Feet dug into the ground to bring him to a halt. Cat or artifact? He made the split-second decision to go after the furry friend. The distant voice of his brother shouting at him to turn back didn't stop his charge. When did Leo get here? This was supposed to be HIS mission! Ugh. No time to be annoyed about it. The turtle dashed into the building.

"Pspspsps, heeeere kitty! Mikey's your friend. We gotta-" a beam crashing down interrupted him, "-we REALLY gotta scram!" Metal walls of the warehouse groaned from strain, struggling to support the roof and cranes suspended inside while missing a huge sections of foundation. Shrapnel littered the shipyard.

Frantic searching yielded results. The cat went back inside to get her baby and now they were trapped. Scooping them into his arms, Mikey dashed for the exit when the building's supports gave a final, bone chilling shriek.

It was coming down.

With no options left, Mikey turned and crouched, hugging the two creatures against his plastron. Chunks of cement battered his shell. A hollow crunch punctured the air and pain shot up the teens spine but he kept still, trying to weather it out.

Suddenly -- blinding blue light as a portal ripped itself open in front of him. A hand reached through and yanked the youngest out to safety on a rooftop nearby, right as the warehouse fully collapsed.

Another solo mission bust.

What were you thinking, running off like that?

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, boiling his blood. Everything ran hot. The edges of his vision whitened and blurred from overdosing on the body's natural Fight or Flight response. Mikey could barely hear the leaders lecturing over the piercing ringing in his skull.

"I-I . . . I just-" Unable to articulate, he loosened his hold so the mother cat and her baby could spring from his arms. He had to save them, Leo. Trembling hands reached back to pat his shell, fingers smoothing over its surface before finding a fracture.

Shock knocked out any strength left in his legs. The teen dead-weighed against Leo's side. "Don't . . . don't look."

He'd cracked his shell.