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solxamber · 3 months ago

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Trash Novel Chronicles: Speedrunning Marriage Fraud || Ace Trappola

You get isekai’d as the heroine in a romance novel, but instead of dreamy suitors, you’re stuck with a yandere cryptid, a billionaire with no impulse control, and a knight who thinks he's in a Shakespearean tragedy (and more).

Your solution? Commit marriage fraud with your best friend, Ace Trappola, and hope no one asks for a marriage certificate.

Series Masterlist

You should have known better than to leave your apartment. You should have listened to your instincts, that deep, primal voice that told you the outside world was a dangerous and unforgiving place. But no. You just had to touch grass.

It had all started with an innocent desire for fresh air. You had gone to the park, found a nice spot, and opened the novel that a colleague had given you—probably as a form of psychological torture disguised as a gift. From the summary alone, you knew it was going to be a lot, but you had no idea just how much your soul would suffer.

The heroine was a noble who clearly did not want to be in this story. Every single page was filled with her staring off into the void, giving half-hearted responses to the five men vying for her attention, like she was a protagonist who hadn’t realized she was in a romance novel yet.

And the love interests. Oh, the love interests.

The (Discount) Yandere Viscount (who had never heard of stealth)

His idea of "obsessively watching over the heroine" was lurking in the shadows like a particularly uncoordinated cryptid. Every single time he tried to “stalk” her, he tripped over his own sword. At one point, he dramatically whispered, “I will protect you… wait, don’t run!” before faceplanting into a bush.

2. The Childhood Acquaintance (who was delusional)

This man had spoken to the heroine exactly once when they were both six years old, but somehow convinced himself they were soulmates. He carried around the same handkerchief she had given him more than 15 years ago like it was a sacred relic and refused to take no for an answer.

3. The "Genius Strategist" Prince (who had the IQ of a raisin)

The man had already planned their wedding, their honeymoon, and the names of their three children within four minutes of meeting her. When she told him she wasn’t interested, his brain blue-screened and he simply repeated, “Ah, you’re just shy.” No, sir. She is not shy. She just isn't interested.

4. The Brooding Duke of the North (who was a caricature of a chaebol heir from a K-Drama)

He believed love could be bought. He once gifted her a solid gold chair because “only the finest furniture is worthy of your presence.” He bought an entire carnival just so she wouldn’t have to wait in line. At one point, he threw money at a random tree, and you weren’t even sure why.

5. The Drama King Knight (who needed to calm down)

He was so powerful but refused to use his strength unless it was for dramatic effect. He got scratched by a cat once and collapsed into the heroine’s arms like he had been mortally wounded. His sword had the power to split mountains, but the only time he ever drew it was to dramatically point at the moon while monologuing about destiny.

And the villainess? She wasn’t even that bad. Compared to these five disasters, she looked like a sensible person.

Somehow, despite all odds, the heroine chose Ace Trappola, her childhood friend, which you had to respect. That was the one good decision this novel made. But just when you thought there might be some semblance of satisfaction—an assassin appeared out of nowhere (sent by the villainess of course) and killed her.

That was it. That was the ending.

You felt your soul leave your body.

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you weren’t sure if it was grief for the heroine, sheer frustration, or physical pain from how hard you had been laughing at this disaster of a novel. It was the most ridiculous, nonsensical, brain-cell-destroying thing you had ever read. You could feel your neurons committing arson inside your skull.

You snapped the book shut and decided that was enough stupidity for one day.

It was time to go home.

As you trudged back, your brain still processing the absolute war crime of a plot you had just read, you heard it.

A faint rumbling.

A presence.

And then—

“OUT OF THE WAY, SONNY!”

A blur of gray hair and unholy speed tore through the park, the sound of wheels screeching against pavement like a demonic banshee’s cry. You turned your head just in time to see a grandma on rollerblades, moving at a velocity no elderly person should legally be able to achieve.

For a split second, you locked eyes.

And in that moment, you knew.

You were not surviving this.

Before you could even process what was happening, she collided into you full force, sending you into a full aerial somersault before you crashed into the bushes like a ragdoll. You barely registered the thundering roar of her departure as she continued skating into the sunset, leaving you for dead.

Now, as you lay crumpled in a bush, your body feeling like it had been hit by a sentient freight train in orthopedic shoes, you had to accept the consequences of your actions. The world had punished you for your hubris.

She. Didn’t. Even. Stumble.

Your body ached, your limbs refused to move, and as darkness crept into your vision, your last conscious thought was, How is a senior citizen more sturdy than me…?

And then, everything went black.

The first thing you noticed upon waking up was the suspiciously pleasant smell. It was fresh, like lavender and high society, with a hint of expensive tea and wealth you’d never personally known.

Your groggy brain latched onto the first thought it could process:

Damn. Hospitals really upgraded their budget.

Then, half a second later, a much more terrifying realization hit you.

Oh God. The ambulance bill.

Your eyes snapped open in unfiltered financial terror, hands clutching at the sheets as you prepared to calculate your medical debt down to the last miserable cent. You were already accepting your fate as a lifelong indentured servant to the healthcare system when—

The ceiling was too ornate. The bed was too soft.

And there was a man sitting beside you, holding your hand.

Your breath caught in your throat as your vision sharpened. Red hair. Heart earring. A cocky smirk, even in his sleep.

You knew that face.

You knew that godforsaken face.

This wasn’t a hospital. This wasn’t even your world.

Somewhere in the heavens, a cosmic entity was laughing as you stared at Ace Trappola, the very same Ace Trappola from the cover of the book you were reading before you got absolutely trucked by a grandma on rollerblades.

Your will to live immediately evaporated.

This couldn’t be happening. This was not real. There was no way that the trashy dumpster fire of a novel you barely got halfway through had decided to swallow you whole and spit you out as its heroine. You were a victim of circumstance. You hadn’t even wanted to read the book. Your colleague had shoved it into your hands with a laugh, saying, “It’s so bad, you’ll love it.”

And now? Now you were going to die in it.

While you were still reeling from this existential horror, Ace stirred beside you, stretching like he’d just taken a refreshing nap instead of being complicit in your suffering.

“Oh, you’re finally awake,” he said.

You almost threw up in real time.

NO. NO, HE DID NOT JUST SKYRIM YOU.

Before you could even begin to unpack that offensive introduction, Ace leaned back in his chair, regarding you with an amused grin.

“Man, you were out for so long,” he continued, clearly enjoying himself at your expense. “We were starting to get worried.”

He paused, then snickered. “Not that I can blame you, though. You got knocked out real bad after Sir Drama decided to pick you up and carry you across a puddle—y’know, because chivalry—and then you started struggling and he, uh…” Ace coughed, failing to smother his laughter. “He might’ve… dropped you on your head.”

Your soul left your body.

The sheer force of your disgust, fury, and resignation compressed into a singularity of unparalleled despair.

You had already suffered a head injury in this world and it hadn’t even been five minutes.

Meanwhile, Ace—clearly unbothered by your silent mental breakdown—casually reached out and ruffled your hair like you were some kind of small animal.

“Try not to scare everyone like that next time, yeah?” he said, standing up with a stretch. “Anyway, I’ll let you rest. See ya, drama queen.”

And just like that, he walked out.

The door clicked shut.

And you were left alone.

You sat there for a full minute, staring at the ceiling, dead inside.

Then at the overly luxurious furniture.

Then at the mirror across the room.

You knew what you would see before you even looked.

White nightgown. Perfect noble lady bedhead. The very same reflection that haunted you from the novel’s terrible cover.

You squeezed your eyes shut, inhaled, and let out the most guttural, primal scream into your pillow.

This was real. This was happening.

And worst of all—

You were about to be pursued by five of the worst men to ever disgrace the literary world.

Tears pricked at your eyes.

You needed a plan.

You needed a way out.

You needed to reject them.

You needed to survive.

With renewed determination, you wiped your tears, hardened your heart, and began plotting your escape.

The moment you accepted that you were, in fact, trapped in this flaming disaster of a novel, you immediately went into damage control mode.

Step One: Gather Allies.

Your first course of action was to round up every single sane person in your immediate social circle—which, in this case, meant the heroine’s original friend group. You weren’t sure how well they’d take this, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

So, within the hour, you managed to corral Ace, Deuce, Riddle, Cater, and Trey into a private room like some kind of organized intervention.

They were all staring at you expectantly.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the sheer stupidity of what you were about to say.

“Listen,” you began, voice firm. “I need help. Serious help. I am being actively hunted by five of the worst men to ever exist, and I need to figure out how to reject them before I end up dead in an alley.”

There was a pause.

Riddle, bless his soul, was the first to react.

He patted you on the back, nodding solemnly. “Finally,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you to grow a spine. It’s about time.”

You blinked. That was the most support you had ever received in your life.

Meanwhile, Trey and Cater exchanged amused glances, Ace looked way too smug for comfort, and Deuce was already looking at Ace like he was onto something.

“You need to get rid of them?” Trey asked, as if he were merely discussing pastry ingredients.

“Yes,” you stressed. “Immediately.”

Riddle hummed in approval. “Good. Then let’s strategize.”

You, Riddle, Trey, and Cater huddled together like you were planning a war campaign.

Ace and Deuce, on the other hand, were having a separate conversation entirely.

A conversation that consisted of Deuce elbowing Ace repeatedly while Ace sat there, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

Then, with the casual arrogance of someone who absolutely had an ulterior motive, Ace stretched his arms and leaned back.

“Y’know,” he drawled, cutting into your very serious rejection plan, “we could make things way easier if you just tell ‘em you’re already taken.”

You stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Ace smirked. “You'd just need a fake lover, right?”

“…Yes?”

He shrugged. “I could do it.”

The room went silent.

Deuce’s face twisted into an undisguised scowl of "That's not what i meant." Riddle raised an eyebrow. Trey hid a knowing smile behind his hand. Cater was visibly entertained.

You, on the other hand, were experiencing about five different emotions at once.

On one hand, Ace clearly had a crush on the heroine—for you. Which meant using him for this felt slightly scummy.

On the other hand, game was game, and survival was survival.

And you were not above exploiting every advantage you could get.

“…Alright,” you agreed, shoving your morals into a dark abyss.

Ace grinned like he’d just won a bet.

Deuce looked one second away from committing homicide.

And just like that, Operation “Escape Horrible Men” was officially underway.

The first lunatic to cross your path was, tragically, the childhood acquaintance—if you could even call him that. This was a man whose entire personality was built on a single act of kindness you had allegedly performed when you were six, like some kind of feral pigeon imprinting on the first human to throw it bread.

He had the look of a man who had been living exclusively off delusions and a diet of unattainable dreams, and you could already feel your soul attempting to evacuate your body at the sight of him.

It all started when you, Ace, and Deuce were having a perfectly nice day at the market. The sun was shining, the air was crisp, and you were engaged in the kind of casual battery that only true friends participated in—swatting at each other, shoving, stealing food mid-bite, and slinging arms over shoulders like a group of rowdy idiots. It was peace. It was joy. And then he appeared.

Like a cockroach that had survived a nuclear apocalypse, he inserted himself into the conversation with an ease that defied all reason, his hand creeping onto your waist as if that was something people just did.

The audacity. The sheer gall. The unmitigated temerity.

On instinct, you physically rejected his existence. You shoved him off with enough force to make a statement, then slammed your heel down on his foot. You were not the original heroine. You did not believe in suffering in silence. You believed in equal opportunity violence.

But this man—this absolute buffoon—had the mental resilience of a particularly dense brick. He simply did not process rejection.

You walked away. He followed. Like a stray cat you accidentally fed once, he clung to your side, ignoring all signs that he was unwelcome.

You showed Deuce a cool charm for his sword; he inserted his completely unsolicited opinion.

You cracked a joke to Ace; he forced out a laugh like you had told it for his benefit.

At one point, you were fairly certain he was just mimicking your breathing patterns to convince himself you were soulmates.

Alright. You had tried being civil. Time to be petty.

You turned to Ace with the kind of dramatic flourish that only came with years of consuming terrible romance novels, throwing yourself into his arms like some damsel in distress. Ace, to his credit, took exactly one second to process before he immediately understood the assignment.

He leaned in close, breath brushing against your ear like he was whispering something scandalous, and you, in turn, made a show of gasping, clutching his shirt like he had just recited the most romantic poetry in existence.

Then he hand-fed you a pastry.

It was too much. Too intimate. Too stupidly effective. You let out a little dreamy sigh, delicately biting into the pastry like it was a love declaration and not just your breakfast. Ace, ever the performer, brushed a crumb off your lips with his thumb.

Deuce, at this point, was convulsing with laughter in the background, nearly choking on his own spit.

But the acquaintance? The parasite? The man who had lived the past decade of his life under the assumption that you were his? He was seething. His face was twisted like he had just swallowed a whole lemon rind and all.

Time to twist the knife.

You turned to Ace with the most lovestruck expression you could muster and, in a voice dripping with sugar and malice, cooed, “Darling, when are you going to propose? I simply cannot wait to be engaged to you”

Ace visibly blue-screened for a moment. You could hear the Windows error noise in real-time. But he was nothing if not quick on his feet.

In a devastating move, he took your hand in both of his, looked into your eyes like you personally invented the concept of love, and murmured, “My love, I’ve searched the entire kingdom for a ring that shines as brightly as your eyes, but nothing has been worthy of you yet.”

That was it. That was the final blow. The childhood acquaintance physically recoiled, his reality shattering like fragile glass, his world crumbling like an over-soaked sponge cake.

“You’re… dating?” he whispered, trembling, as if he was the protagonist in a tragic opera.

You and Ace turned to him in perfect synchrony, all wide eyes and lovesick smiles, and in the most disgustingly sweet voices you could manage, declared, “We’re soooo in love~”

He ran away crying.

It was magnificent. It was euphoric. You turned to watch him flee, skidding into the distance like a wounded deer, while Deuce collapsed against a stand, wheezing.

And then, just for a moment—barely a second—you caught Ace watching you, something unreadable flickering in his expression. Then he smirked, slinging an arm around your shoulder like nothing had happened.

One down. Four to go.

The invitation to the ball had arrived with the pomp and circumstance of an execution notice.

You had already survived assassination attempts (by fate and by your own refusal to engage with the five unhinged men vying for your hand), but now you were being asked to waltz? Like some graceful noble lady who had spent her entire life twirling through candlelit halls and not someone whose idea of “dancing” was flailing in the kitchen at 2 AM while waiting for instant noodles to cook?

You tried to tell yourself, maybe the original heroine’s muscle memory will kick in.

It did not.

You attempted a single spin in your room and promptly tripped over the hem of your dress, landing face-first into the carpet with all the elegance of a sedated goose. The reality was undeniable—you needed help.

Unfortunately, Deuce and Riddle, your two best hopes for structured, competent lessons, were drowning in their official duties. That left you with Trey(thankfully), Cater, and Ace.

Ace. The man who claimed he could “totally waltz” but then proceeded to move like he was dodging invisible potholes. He swore he was just "freestyling," which, sure, was a thing people did—just not in 18th-century ballroom dancing.

Trey, ever the responsible elder brother figure, took pity on your plight and offered to teach you. You gratefully accepted, placing your hand in his, and the two of you began to move across the floor. Or, rather, Trey moved and you decimated his toes with every step.

Ace, watching from the sidelines, looked like he had been personally wronged by the universe.

His jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed. His grip on his drink? White-knuckled. If he had been any tenser, his soul might have ascended on the spot.

Cater, in contrast, was having the time of his life.

Sipping tea like a smug little gremlin, he watched the spectacle unfold with the kind of amusement normally reserved for reality TV drama. He did not care that Ace was clearly dying inside. In fact, it was making the tea taste better.

Meanwhile, Trey suffered.

He suffered so much.

You stepped on his foot. Again. You stepped on it without intent. Without malice. But with the weight of a hundred failed dance lessons.

“Ah, you’re getting there,” Trey said with the patience of a saint, even as he subtly tried to guide you away from his crushed toes.

Ace twitched.

The evening ended with you being marginally better at dancing and Ace looking like he had been force-fed an entire lemon tree.

The next day, you arrived at Ace’s estate with the singular goal of dragging him into town for shenanigans.

Instead, you were met at the entrance by his butler, who, with a knowing wink that immediately put you on edge, informed you that Ace was “currently practicing” and that you were "free to go in and see for yourself."

This, of course, set off all your mental alarms.

You pushed open the door just a crack, peeking inside, and what you saw nearly short-circuited your brain.

There, in the middle of the room, was Ace Trappola.

Dancing.

With a coat hanger.

He held it like a real partner, moving across the floor with surprising grace, his brows furrowed in concentration, his lips pressing into a frustrated pout whenever he missed a step.

You felt something unfamiliar rise in your chest. A warmth. A flutter. A sense of being deeply, irreversibly touched.

You immediately squashed the feeling. Crushed it under your heel like a bug. Incinerated it. You refused to let sentimentality win.

So, naturally, you cleared your throat and went straight for the teasing.

“Wow, Ace. I didn’t know you and the coat hanger were so close.”

Ace startled so hard he nearly dropped the poor inanimate object.

He turned to you, face flushing an almost adorable shade of pink, before scowling and attempting to play it cool.

“I—this—I wasn’t practicing for you or anything!” he scoffed, crossing his arms as if that would somehow erase the memory from your brain.

“Oh, of course not,” you said, nodding sagely. “You were obviously training to impress the coat hanger.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Rubbed the back of his neck. Refused to meet your eyes.

“…You wanna practice together?”

And that was how you found yourself dancing with Ace in the dim glow of the evening light, his hands warm against yours, the two of you laughing every time you stumbled.

It was awkward. It was messy. It was weirdly fun.

And somewhere in the background, Ace’s butler was already reallocating the estate’s budget for your wedding.

You had successfully survived the dance.

This was, by all accounts, a miracle.

There had been no toe-crushing disasters, no tragic falls, no wardrobe malfunctions that would have made the noble ladies clutch their pearls and whisper about you for decades. Not even a single case of you flinging your arms out too enthusiastically and smacking a duke’s son in the face.

You had defied fate.

And it definitely helped that your partner had been Ace—as much as that bruised your pride to admit. He was annoyingly decent at making sure you didn’t trip over your own feet, even though he kept smirking the entire time like he was waiting for you to say something ridiculous like "Wow, Ace, you're so talented and charming and handsome, what would I ever do without you?"

You would rather perish.

So, once the dance ended, you immediately excused yourself and found a nice, solid chair to collapse into. Ace, good little fake boyfriend that he was, offered to get you both drinks, which was a very convenient excuse for you to not be near him for five minutes.

And that was when the Genius Strategist Prince swooped in.

You did not see him approach. You did not sense his presence. It was as if he had teleported into existence like some eldritch being fueled purely by narcissism and misplaced confidence.

One moment, you were sitting peacefully, and the next—

He was there.

The cursed arm wrapped around your shoulders. The infuriating smirk. The unbearable arrogance wafting off him like overpriced cologne.

Oh, this was bad.

"You looked quite beautiful on the dance floor tonight," he murmured, his voice dripping with self-satisfaction. "Almost like a queen-to-be."

This man had the audacity—the sheer, unholy nerve—to look at you like you were supposed to giggle and blush at that line instead of chewing through your own tongue in an effort not to commit a crime.

You had one option.

You fled.

You simply stood up and walked away, directly towards the only person in this cursed ballroom who could save you from this richly perfumed disaster of a man.

Ace.

Ace, who had perfectly timed his return with two glasses of something that was hopefully strong enough to erase the last ten seconds from your memory. Ace, who took one look at your expression, saw the absolute horror trailing behind you, and immediately understood the assignment.

Without missing a beat, he wrapped an arm around you.

Possessive. Protective. The very image of a devoted fake lover.

You had never been so grateful for his dramatic streak.

The prince, who had followed you like a particularly persistent case of food poisoning, bristled.

"Remove your arm," he commanded, his voice low and sharp.

Ace did not remove his arm.

In fact, he pulled you closer, tilting his head just slightly in a way that perfectly balanced smugness and challenge.

"Why should I take my hand off my partner?" he asked.

You, who had spent your entire life developing a survival instinct specifically for escaping situations like this, felt the distant whisper of a self-preservation alarm. That was still the crown prince, after all. Ace was many things—irritating, reckless, an absolute menace—but he was not immortal.

Fortunately, before you had to say anything, help arrived.

Across the ballroom, Riddle nodded.

To your left, Deuce gave a subtle thumbs-up.

The plan was in motion.

Phase One

From the far end of the ballroom, Trey, the royal chef, emerged, balancing an enormous cake on a silver tray. It was a towering, masterful creation—a true work of art, layers stacked high, delicately sculpted sugar decorations shimmering under the chandelier light.

A cake that, in mere moments, would be used as a weapon of mass destruction.

Trey took one fateful step.

Tripped (As planned)

And the entire cake, in all its elaborate, multi-tiered glory, toppled over.

Straight. Onto. The. Prince.

Ace immediately shielded you from the debris. His hand was firm on your back as he turned you slightly away from the chaos, and when you glanced up at him, he was grinning.

Smug. Smug. Smug.

Something in your stomach did something.

You ignored it.

The prince, meanwhile, stood there in horrified silence, cake and frosting dripping down his very expensive, very now-ruined clothes.

And then came Phase Two

Deuce, moving with the "concern" of a man who absolutely knew he was about to ruin someone’s life, rushed forward.

"Your Highness," he said earnestly, holding out his own coat, "you should remove your clothes."

The entire ballroom went silent.

The prince, still picking fondant out of his hair, turned slowly.

"What?"

"You’re covered in cake," Deuce explained, voice so painfully genuine that you nearly choked.

The prince, who absolutely would rather die than undress in public, refused.

Which was unfortunate. Because Deuce, bless his heart, did not take no for an answer.

He grabbed the prince’s jacket.

And pulled.

The ballroom collectively inhaled.

Because underneath—where there should have been the broad, powerful shoulders of a “warrior prince,” where there should have been toned muscle sculpted by years of battle and strategy—

Was nothing.

Not just nothing—an outright betrayal of physics and expectation.

The prince was built like a malnourished Victorian ghost.

His coat—once the source of his so-called “strong, masculine presence”—had been heavily padded. Not just lightly stuffed, but outright engineered to create the illusion of bulging biceps and warrior-like stature.

Biceps, it was now evident, larger than his actual head.

The ballroom gasped.

The prince, red-faced and humiliated, did what any reasonable man would do when faced with public disgrace.

He ran.

You, Ace, Deuce, and your co-conspirators high-fived.

And the next morning, Cater, journalist extraordinaire, published an excruciatingly detailed article titled:

"From Brawn to Busted: The Prince’s Muscle Mirage!"

2 down. 3 to go.

It had been a regular morning. A peaceful morning. A morning where you had intended to do nothing more than descend the stairs like a normal, functioning member of society, have breakfast, and not make a complete spectacle of yourself before noon.

The universe had other plans.

One moment, you had been confidently stepping forward, and the next—

Betrayal.

Your foot had missed the step. Gravity, that treacherous, fickle force, had seized its chance. You had plummeted like a sack of potatoes launched off a moving carriage, limbs flailing, dignity abandoning ship before you even hit the floor.

And then you hit the floor.

Hard.

Ace, your beloved thorn in the side, had stood over you, blinking, until you groaned and weakly waved a hand to signal that you were probably not dead.

And that was when he had completely lost it.

He had laughed for ten minutes straight. A full, wheezing, tears-in-his-eyes, struggling-to-breathe kind of laugh, slapping his knee like an old man who just heard the funniest joke of his life. The servants had peered around corners in confusion. One poor maid had whispered, "Should we call a doctor?" Not for you. For Ace, because he was about to rupture a lung.

"You're fine," he gasped out eventually, still giggling like a goblin. "It's just a sprain, right? But your ego— oh, your ego is never coming back from this one."

And that was how you had ended up here.

Ace had decided—without your input, without even a semblance of human decency— that you were now a particularly large handbag.

He carried you everywhere.

There was no logical reason for this. You could still walk. You had one (1) slightly messed-up ankle, you were fine. But Ace, seeing the opportunity to be the worst person alive, had simply hoisted you up like a particularly unruly sack of flour and declared, "Guess you're stuck with me, huh?"

And he had not put you down since.

Which led to your current predicament.

You had planned to meet Riddle, Trey, and Cater for tea in the gardens, because you were a person of class and refinement, not some gremlin carried around like stolen treasure. But did that stop Ace? No. Of course not.

The three of them had been waiting peacefully in the garden, cups of tea in hand, enjoying their serene afternoon—

And then Ace had strolled in, with you draped over his shoulder like a particularly expensive piece of luggage.

Silence.

The kind of silence that one might expect after watching a clown cartwheel directly into the king’s court.

Trey looked concerned. Riddle looked like he was going to spontaneously combust. Cater, to absolutely no one’s surprise, looked entertained.

And you? You had given up.

"You could just let me down, you know," you muttered, swatting at Ace’s shoulder in what you hoped was a dignified manner, though it probably looked more like a dying fish flopping around.

Ace grinned, because of course he did. "Nah. Too late. You’re furniture now."

You scowled. "Then put me near the table so I can actually reach my tea, you absolute menace—"

Ace ignored you completely.

He dropped into a chair, still holding you.

This was your life now.

Trey, who had likely woken up hoping for a quiet afternoon, cleared his throat and asked, very diplomatically, "So… sprained ankle?"

"Tragic accident," Ace said, like he was recounting the tale of a fallen soldier. "There I was, just minding my own business, when—boom. Disaster. Absolute catastrophe. They will sing songs about this one for years."

"You were laughing," you deadpanned.

"And now I'm grieving," Ace shot back.

Riddle, who had quite frankly had enough of both of you, massaged his temples.

Meanwhile, Cater, who had pulled out his camera at some point, was taking photos.

"This is gold," he muttered, already plotting his gossip column.

And then, just as you were mid-swat, trying to smack the smirk off Ace’s face while he cackled like a heathen, Riddle sighed under his breath, voice heavy with exhaustion and despair.

"They're so obvious," he muttered. "Sevens save us all."

Trey nodded solemnly. Cater just grinned.

It had been a perfectly normal day.

Which, of course, meant disaster was imminent.

You were standing in the grand hall, sipping a totally normal, non-poisoned cup of tea (probably), when you felt it. That eerie, spine-chilling sensation. The distinct, unsettling awareness that you were being watched.

Slowly, you turned your head.

A pair of glowing eyes peered at you from behind an indoor potted plant.

You sighed. Loudly. "Viscount, I can see you."

"Tch," the Viscount hissed, stepping out of his entirely inadequate hiding spot. "So perceptive… as expected of my fated beloved."

As if to ruin the illusion entirely, he tripped on his own cape and had to grab onto the plant for support. The entire thing tipped over with a thunderous CRASH.

Silence.

A servant slowly turned to look at him, unblinking.

The Viscount, sprawled across the floor, cleared his throat. "Pretend you did not see that."

You rubbed your temples. "What do you want?"

He rose to his feet dramatically—or at least, he tried. His foot got tangled in his cape again, and he had to do an awkward little hop to untangle himself before he could finally regain his dignity (what little he had left).

"I have come to confess," he intoned, "the depths of my undying love for you."

A dramatic wind blew through the hall. (Despite the fact that all the windows were closed.)

You braced yourself. This was going to be painful.

"From the moment I first laid eyes upon you," the Viscount continued, stepping forward (but nearly tripping over a rug). "I knew that you and I were bound by fate."

He gripped his chest. "Your beauty, your grace, your ability to evade me every time I attempt to watch over you from the shadows… truly, you are like a rare and precious bird, always just out of reach!"

"You mean because I run away every time you try to talk to me?" you deadpanned.

"Exactly!" he said, passionately. "Such a clever game of cat and mouse we play!"

You stared at him. He stared back, completely serious.

Cater was, once again, taking pictures of this entire trainwreck. Deuce had just pulled out a chair, grabbed a snack, and was watching like it was a soap opera.

"But no more!" the Viscount declared. "Today, I shall break this cycle and claim my rightful place at your side!"

He took a bold step forward—

—and promptly slipped on the fallen leaves from the potted plant.

There was a moment of absolute silence.

Then—THUMP.

He faceplanted straight into the marble floor.

Cater wheezed. Deuce actually fell out of his chair. Riddle was muttering something about public executions. Trey looked like he was reconsidering his entire life.

But the Viscount?

He slowly pushed himself up, nose bleeding, expression unfazed.

"A minor setback," he rasped, wiping the blood off his face with his own cape like some kind of tragic war hero. "Love… is pain."

You exhaled deeply. "Alright, you know what?" You straightened your posture, voice heavy with overwhelming sorrow. "My dear Viscount… if only you had come to me sooner."

His breath hitched. "You mean—?"

"If only fate were kinder," you continued, placing a hand on your chest. "If only my heart were not already…taken."

Fake gasps echoed through the hall.

The Viscount staggered. "No… it cannot be!"

"I am afraid so," you whispered. "For I… I have already pledged my love to…"

You spun dramatically—and pointed straight at Ace.

Ace, who immediately choked on his drink.

Ace, who had agreed to fake date you but was now staring at you like you had just struck him with a bolt of divine judgment.

Cater’s camera zoomed in on his expression.

You turned dramatically, seizing Ace’s arm with a grip that could bend steel. "My darling fiancé, my heart, my sun and stars!" you declared, throwing yourself against him like a maiden in distress. "Forgive me for not introducing you sooner—this is my betrothed, Ace Trappola!"

Ace made a sound like a cat getting drop-kicked across a room.

"WHAT."

The Viscount looked like someone had just run him through with a broadsword.

"I know," you said, voice trembling with unspeakable woe. "It seems impossible. Unthinkable. But love, my dear Viscount, is a force beyond comprehension. Who are we to fight against fate?"

Ace was still making distressed noises. Riddle looked like he was five seconds away from committing homicide.

"No—no, this cannot be!" The Viscount staggered back, clutching his chest like he had just been mortally wounded. "You would choose him over me?"

You gripped Ace’s collar, pulling him until your foreheads nearly touched. "How could I not?" you whispered. "Look at him. Look at his—his, um. His face!"

Ace mouthed: WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?

"His personality!" you continued, wildly grasping for reasons. "His—his unparalleled ability to be so Ace-like at all times!"

"I hate every single word coming out of your mouth," Ace muttered.

"And most of all," you gasped, voice hushed. "The way he carries me when I sprain my ankle. A true gentleman. A man among men."

The grand hall erupted into chaos.

Ace visibly short-circuited. "I— WHAT??"

Cater's hands visibly shook as he tried to keep taking pictures. Deuce had fully dropped his snack. The Viscount let out a dramatic, heartbroken wail.

"Engaged?!" the Viscount gasped. "But how? When?!"

You clutched Ace’s hand tighter. "Last night."

"LAST NIGHT??" Ace screeched.

You shot him a look. Ace, whose entire face was on fire, gulped and quickly switched tactics.

"Aha… aha… yeah, totally!" He threw an arm around your shoulders, grinning through his existential crisis. "We got engaged last night! Super romantic and all that! Just me and my beloved—" his voice cracked, "—who I love so much!"

You patted his chest reassuringly. "See? True love."

The Viscount staggered back. His entire world was shattering. The intensity of his emotional turmoil was so strong that he tripped over his own cape again and went tumbling down the nearby staircase.

It took twenty entire seconds for him to hit the bottom.

More silence.

Then, from below: "Love… is pain…"

Ace, still holding you, whispered, "What did you just do to me?"

You turned, smiling sweetly. "I just made you my fiancé, Ace."

Ace felt faint. His heart had been going a normal amount of fast when he agreed to fake date you, but this? This was illegal.

Meanwhile, Cater was already writing the next article.

The night had started so normally. Just you, your expensive, holy-grail skincare routine, and the unwavering determination to emerge from this ritual looking like a Renaissance painting come to life. You had your headband on, your fluffy robe wrapped around you, and the greenish-white sludge of your face mask setting into a crusty layer of beauty and self-care.

Then Ace Trappola happened.

He kicked the door open like he was the protagonist of a spaghetti western, took one look at you, and lost his entire mind.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?" he gasped, immediately doubling over in laughter. "Oh my god, you look like a haunted doll."

You did not hesitate. You lunged at him like an apex predator.

And despite all his athleticism and street-rat reflexes, Ace had not been prepared for an attack from a fully masked-up, vengeance-driven individual armed with a whole tub of premium skincare.

"WAIT—NO—"

It was too late.

You straddled his lap, pressed his shoulders down onto your bed, and slathered the mask onto his stupid, laughing face with all the delicacy of an artist painting their magnum opus.

"See?" you said sweetly, coating his nose with a dramatic flourish. "Now we’re both glowing."

Ace wanted to talk back— wanted to make a joke, to tell you off, to do anything but sit here like a dumb, frozen idiot while you cupped his face, held his chin so gently, and smoothed the mask over his cheekbones like he was something precious and breakable.

And he was losing it.

Your legs were slung over his lap. His back was against your bed. Your hand was on his jaw, tilting his face however you wanted. And Ace, the very same Ace who laughed at every romantic in the kingdom for being cringe and stupid, was about two seconds away from throwing his dignity out the window and leaning into your touch.

Because all he could see, smell, and feel was you.

Your voice kept going, rambling about something stupid and inconsequential—some royal drama, a new gossip column, your thoughts on different brands of facial cleanser—but Ace couldn’t process a single word because his entire stupid, traitorous heart was screaming at him to just—just—

The revelation slammed into him like a meteor. A deadly, world-ending, history-changing impact that reduced his brain cells to rubble and left behind only the smoking wreckage of a man who was well and truly screwed.

This was not a platonic feeling.

This was the opposite of a platonic feeling.

And yet, instead of saying anything, instead of introspecting like a sane person, he just let you keep talking, let himself bask in the feeling of your fingers on his face, let himself sink into the sheer stupidity of his predicament.

By the time he could regain enough motor function to think about moving, it was too late.

You had both somehow, inexplicably, fallen asleep.

The morning arrived with the unmistakable sound of high-pitched giggles.

You cracked open a single bleary eye, your body heavy with sleep, and—oh.

Oh no.

Ace was snuggled up against your arm, his face relaxed in a way you had never seen before. His usual cocky smirk was nowhere to be found, replaced by something painfully soft and vulnerable.

His hair was a mess, sticking up in ridiculous angles, but somehow, it made him look even cuter. His cheek was squished against your shoulder, his arms curled slightly around yours, one leg lazily slung over yours like he had every right to use you as a makeshift pillow.

And the worst part?

It wasn’t even weird.

It felt… right.

And that was when it hit you.

Like a meteor. Like an act of god. Like the universe itself had conspired to wait until you were at your most defenseless before smacking you in the face with one singular, undeniable truth.

You were in love with Ace Trappola.

You. Loved. Ace.

How unfortunate.

You had half a mind to violently shake him awake, make him take responsibility for making you feel this way—but then he muttered something in his sleep, something unintelligible, and shifted closer, pressing his nose against your arm.

You stopped breathing.

The maids were still standing at the door, watching, waiting for you to react.

You slowly raised a hand.

And, with the elegance of a queen issuing a decree, you waved them away.

Five more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

The Duke of the North was an annual disaster. Like a migrating bird that exclusively flew south to be annoying, he only visited the capital once a year—and every single time, it was to do one thing: propose to you.

This would have been flattering, except for the fact that you had been rejecting him since the dawn of time. Yet, for some reason, he was deeply convinced that, one day, you would simply change your mind upon seeing him standing there, brooding dramatically in his tailored, imported-from-a-country-that-doesn’t-even-exist coats.

He did not take rejection well.

Of course, you never answered his letters. Why would you? His correspondence was a tragic novel in real-time, each letter trying and failing to sound aloof, with absolutely zero success.

"I suppose you are busy, as I am also very busy, thinking about extremely important things, such as war and finance and not at all about why you have not replied to me in the last six months." "Should you choose to acknowledge my existence, I will, of course, consider taking time out of my incredibly packed schedule to respond (though I have already cleared next Tuesday for you, just in case)." "It is of no consequence to me whether you reply. However, I have sent my fastest courier, so you may want to respond before he breaks his legs trying to reach me before nightfall."

Pathetic.

And now, as expected, here he was again.

And as always, he came prepared.

This time, he had doubled down on his "love can be bought" philosophy.

A solid gold chair—because “only the finest furniture is worthy of your presence.”

An entirely new breed of horse, bred specifically for you, because "standard horses are beneath you."

A fleet of ships. Why? No one knew. You were not a sailor. You had never even been on a boat.

Riddle, who had been an unfortunate witness to this entire spectacle, had been slowly turning redder and redder, not out of anger, but out of sheer secondhand embarrassment. He looked like he was debating whether to intervene or let natural selection take its course.

Meanwhile, the villainess, who had been throwing you dirty looks since the Duke’s arrival, stood nearby. It didn’t take long for you to realize why—she liked him. She wanted him.

You turned to face her. Slowly. Deliberately.

Your expression said: “Lady, I don’t even want him.”

Her expression said: “You lying harlot.”

And before you could even think of clarifying that you had no interest in this walking gold reserve, the situation somehow got worse.

Ace appeared out of nowhere, grabbed your hand, and, with the audacity of a man who had never once in his life considered the consequences of his actions, declared with full confidence:

"Oh, sorry, we already got married."

Riddle choked on air.

The Duke froze, mid-proposal, like a glitching NPC in a poorly coded game. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, as if he were about to say something but his brain was actively refusing to process the information.

"You," he said hoarsely, like someone had just stabbed him in the chest. "What?"

You nodded solemnly, forcing yourself to look as heartbreakingly sincere as possible. "We even have a dog," you said.

Ace, who had waited his entire life for a bit like this, effortlessly raised the stakes.

"Two dogs," he added, gripping your hand even tighter.

You smiled sweetly, as if recounting precious memories of a long and happy marriage. "Three, actually."

The Duke’s breathing audibly shortened.

Riddle buried his face in his hands and muttered, “Oh my god, make it stop.”

"WHAT?!"

Ace sighed, the weariness of a devoted husband weighing down on him. "We also have six kids."

The Duke, who had already been dangerously close to a stroke, seemed to visibly glitch.

"SIX?! BUT IT HASN’T EVEN BEEN A YEAR!"

Ace, seeing an opportunity and deciding to go all in, dramatically gestured at a group of stray cats on the street.

"There they are," he said, with the utmost conviction.

The Duke followed his gaze, slowly, hesitantly, as if he already knew he was about to regret it.

There, on the sidewalk, were six very dirty, very chaotic stray cats.

One of them, making full eye contact with him, immediately started hacking up a hairball. Another was biting its own tail, because it had seemingly forgotten that it was attached to its body. A third was somehow climbing a wall upside down, defying both gravity and logic.

The Duke completely lost his mind.

"YOU—YOU HAVE—YOU’VE BIRTHED FELINE OFFSPRING?!"

Riddle made a strangled noise. His entire body convulsed with the effort of holding back laughter.

Ace did not hesitate. "Yeah, we just love them so much," he said, as if this were a completely normal and factual statement. "Fatherhood changes a man, y’know?"

"Don't forget our youngest," you added helpfully, pointing at a cat stuck in a flower pot.

Ace wiped an imaginary tear. "That's little Gregory. He's the smart one."

At this point, Riddle was not even trying to stop laughing anymore. He had completely given up, his usual decorum shattered beyond repair.

The Duke, however, looked like he was experiencing all five stages of grief simultaneously. His face twisted into pure devastation. He opened his mouth to say something, then immediately closed it, shaking his head in silent agony.

And then, without another word—he left.

Ace, smug beyond words, turned to you, grinning. "That went well."

Riddle, who had just witnessed a full-scale psychological takedown using nothing but sheer absurdity, wiped a tear from his eye. "You two are insane," he muttered, shaking his head.

Ace didn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the evening.

Ace doesn’t know what the hell is going on.

He’s always liked you. A little.

A manageable amount. A totally ignorable amount. The kind of dumb little crush that normal people have. The kind you lock in a box, throw into the ocean, and then blow up the ocean for good measure.

But then you woke up from your fainting accident and became his worst nightmare.

Because somehow, in that brief unconscious state, you became ten times more interesting. More chaotic. More fun.

You met his sarcasm with even faster comebacks. You encouraged his bad ideas. You had absolutely no self-preservation. You went from exasperatedly tolerating his nonsense to actively participating in it, and it was the worst thing you could have possibly done to him.

Because now?

Now he’s the one barely keeping up.

You match him perfectly—step for step, disaster for disaster. If he’s instigating, you’re escalating. If he cracks a joke, you one-up him. When he nudges you in the ribs, you shove him into a bush.

And when you grab his arm, lean in close, and whisper, "Hey, let’s cause some problems," his brain just shuts the hell down.

He’s so ruined.

And the thing is?

Ace has done this to himself.

Because when he suggested pretending to be your lover, he genuinely thought it was a great idea. A genius plan, even.

He’d fake it, get it out of his system, and then tragically move on once you found someone else.

Except now he’s holding your hand in public.

Now he’s whispering in your ear just to make you laugh.

Now he’s calling you ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’ and ‘my love’—and you play along like it’s a game, and every time, his heart detonates like an unstable potion.

At this point, if you actually fell for someone else?

Ace thinks he might literally die.

No, really. He would simply perish. Collapse. Expire. He would crumple to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been violently severed and haunt the castle as the world’s most bitter, lovesick ghost.

Cupid was somewhere, rolling on the floor, wheezing.

The other day, you smiled at him for too long, and he forgot how to walk and almost tripped.

You called him ‘Acey’ once, and he almost bit through his own tongue.

One time, you said, "I feel safest when I’m with you," and he blacked out for a full thirty seconds.

You took a sip from his drink the other day, and he had to go lie down.

And now you’re standing beside him at some stupid jewelry stall, pointing at a necklace with that gleam in your eyes, and Ace is staring at you like an absolute idiot.

He can’t stop thinking about how pretty you look under the market lights.

How he’d buy you every single piece of jewelry in the damn kingdom if you asked.

How his entire soul is in shambles because he’s standing next to you thinking, "Oh no. I actually, genuinely, idiotically am in love."

Ace Trappola, Ace ‘Fake-Dating-Was-A-Good-Idea’ Trappola, is staring at you thinking:

"Oh, Trappola. You absolute dumbass. You’re in love."

And then you turn to him, all bright-eyed and smiling, and ask, "Ace, do you think this would suit me?"

And he almost chokes on his own tongue.

Because yes.

Yes, it would suit you.

So would every other necklace in existence. So would a crown. So would the title of Supreme Ruler of the Universe, if he could somehow get that for you.

But instead of saying that, he just shoves his hands in his pockets, tries to look normal, and mutters, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. If you like it, just get it already."

And you laugh.

And Ace Trappola is never going to recover from this.

The worst of the lot finally appears.

You had dealt with the Brooding Duke who thought love could be purchased, endured the Prince who wept into his lace handkerchief at every rejection, and even managed to shake off the Yandere who believed true love was an elaborate chess game. But nothing—nothing—could have prepared you for the Drama King Knight.

He stood before you in the garden, his impractically long cape billowing in the completely windless afternoon, because he had, no doubt, hired a peasant to stand just off-camera fanning him.

His sword—which was capable of splitting mountains but had only ever been used to dramatically point at celestial bodies—glinted in the sun. He looked at you with eyes that had definitely rehearsed this exact expression in the mirror for three hours.

"Fairest of all," he said, already halfway through a monologue you did not want to hear. "I have braved the perils of—"

You sighed dramatically, cutting him off. "A single brush of your hand might shatter my frail mortal bones."

The Knight visibly trembled. His gauntleted hand hovered in the air like he was about to faint. "You’re right… I must protect you. From myself."

Riddle, standing beside you, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes. Do that. From very, very far away."

And for a moment, it seemed like that would be enough. The Knight turned away, his cape swishing dramatically. You could practically hear the imaginary background music swelling, the curtains closing, the credits rolling.

Then he whirled back around. God, why do they always whirl back around?

"But if I cannot be with you in body," he declared, voice shaking with raw emotion, "then I shall remain by your side in spirit. Our souls, forever entwined. Our hearts, eternally wed!"

You blinked. "What."

"Yes!" He threw an arm toward the heavens, pointing at the sun like he was about to challenge it to a duel. "We shall be together in spirit! No matter where you go, I shall always be watching! Always waiting! Like the moon follows the tide, I shall—"

Alright. You had tried to reject him normally. You had been reasonable. But clearly, reason had no place here.

Riddle sighed. "Do whatever you're about to do. Just… make it quick."

You nodded grimly. If this was how it had to be, then so be it.

You squared your shoulders, took a deep breath, and clutched your chest like a woman stricken with a terrible, unknowable curse.

"No," you whispered. "You don’t understand."

The Knight faltered. "Understand… what?"

You threw an arm over your eyes. "I am cursed! Any man who loves me shall be turned into a… a… a goose."

Silence.

The Knight blinked at you. He opened his mouth. Closed it. His sword, which had been dramatically trembling in his grip, clattered to the ground.

"A… a goose?" he repeated.

You solemnly nodded.

And then, as prearranged, Deuce rushed off to fetch the goose.

The Knight looked between you and Deuce’s retreating figure, his expression one of dawning horror, like a man realizing he had proposed to a person who was actually an eldritch horror in disguise.

Deuce returned, struggling slightly because the goose had absolutely no interest in being part of this nonsense.

But this was not just any goose. This was the Emergency Goose.

Ace, hiding behind a tree like the gremlin he was, gave you a solemn nod.

Deuce carefully lifted the goose, revealing the final touch—the little red heart painted onto its cheek.

Riddle rubbed his temples. "I hate that you were prepared for this."

"This," you declared gravely, "is Ace."

The Knight reeled. "No. That… That cannot be!"

The goose honked.

"Yes," you continued, "he loved me once. And this was his fate."

A perfect beat of silence.

And then, from behind the tree, Ace whimpered, "Save me."

The Knight—a man who had once stood before a charging wyvern and laughed in the face of death—let out a shriek so bloodcurdling it startled every bird within a five-mile radius.

And then, cape billowing, he turned and ran.

Not a noble retreat. Not a dignified exit. No. Full-speed sprint. He shoved a confused maid out of the way. He leapt over a market stall. A small child pointed and laughed as he fled, but the Knight did not slow down, because his heart—once so full of love and poetry—was now full of terror.

Terror of you.

Terror of your goose.

Terror of the idea that at any moment, he too might sprout feathers and begin honking at the moon.

You, Ace, Deuce, Riddle, and the goose watched him vanish into the horizon.

A long silence followed.

Deuce set the goose down. The goose, finally free from its obligations, pecked him on the shin and waddled off.

Ace emerged from behind the tree, cackling. "Did you see his face?! Bro really thought I turned into a goose!"

Riddle sighed the sigh of a man who was simply too tired for this nonsense. "You two are the worst people I have ever met."

"You love us," you said.

"I do not."

Ace slung an arm over your shoulder. "You totally do."

Riddle turned on his heel and stormed off in the opposite direction.

But you saw it. You absolutely saw it.

A single, fleeting twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

Freedom. Sweet, unshackled, unburdened freedom.

No more men in capes dramatically reciting poetry at you. No more gold furniture being delivered to your doorstep. No more wild-eyed knights trying to prove their devotion by fighting literal bears in your honor. No more deranged suitors appearing at your window like particularly uncoordinated bats.

You were free.

And yet—

As you stood in the gardens, bathed in the golden glow of your well-earned peace, you felt… unsettled. Uneasy. Almost—upset.

Which made no sense. You had spent months rejecting these lunatics. You had faked engagements, lied through your teeth, orchestrated elaborate hoaxes, and weaponized a goose. You had done everything in your power to be rid of them, and it worked.

So why, in the face of your glorious victory, did you feel like you'd lost something?

And then, like a lightning bolt to the brain, it hit you.

Ace.

This meant no more holding hands in public to “convince” people. No more cheek kisses for the sake of believability. No more stupid, infuriating, wonderful Ace, grinning at you like you hung the damn moon.

It was over. Your fake dating/marriage/engagement (depending on the day and the level of your theatrics) had served its purpose.

And now it was gone.

The realization hit like a carriage crash.

You were an idiot. A complete, utter idiot.

Because somewhere between the first fake kiss in front of a suitor, the first time he laced his fingers through yours, the first time he winked at you like you were his favorite person in the entire world, you had fallen for him.

And now, standing in the wreckage of your successful campaign of repelling suitors, you realized that it was either confess right now… or take this to your grave.

Your horribly embarrassing, entirely unavoidable, painfully obvious feelings for Ace Trappola.

Ace is happy for you. He really, really is.

You’re finally free. No more unhinged declarations of love from men who have the self-preservation instincts of a lemming. No more dodging elaborate marriage proposals like a rogue in a dungeon raid. No more looking over your shoulder, expecting some cape-wearing lunatic to be reciting poetry in your honor.

Most of them think you’re taken. One thinks you’re cursed.

It worked. You’re safe. You’re free.

So why does Ace feel like he’s the one who lost?

He was kind of hoping it would take longer. Just a little bit. A few more weeks, maybe. Another month, if he was lucky. Because every day you had to pretend to be his meant another day you were in his arms. Another day he got to hold your hand in public and call it necessity. Another day he could press a kiss to your cheek without consequences. Another day of you being his.

And now? Now it was over.

And he doesn’t know how to go back.

How is he supposed to just… be your best friend Ace again? How is he supposed to look at you and not wonder what it could’ve been? How is he supposed to stand beside you like nothing has changed when everything has changed for him?

Because now, every time he looks at you, he just wants to grab you and kiss you until you’re the only thing he can taste. He wants to pull you close, whisper all the things he never let himself say. He wants everything.

But most of all, he knows—knows deep in his bones—that if you ever fall for someone else, it will destroy him.

He has to confess right now or take it to his grave.

You’re running like a madman. Like some kind of deranged romantic heroine who’s just realized she’s been in love with her childhood friend all along. Your dress is catching on every stray branch, your hair’s a mess, and you probably look like you’ve barely survived a war. But none of that matters.

Because Ace is running too.

You see him, just as wrecked as you, his coat unevenly buttoned, his hair windswept, his face flushed and frantic like he’s been sprinting for miles. And maybe he has. Maybe you both have—metaphorically and literally.

You skid to a stop, panting, staring at each other like two idiots who have finally realized the answer to a question they should’ve known all along. Ace looks at you, his breath shuddering, his eyes wide and teary like he can’t believe you’re actually here. And maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that you’re both half out of your minds with feelings, but you throw caution to the wind.

You’ve survived up till now on sheer audacity. Maybe it can take you further.

So you kiss him.

And for a second, there’s nothing. Just the stunned stillness of the world as you close the distance, pressing your lips to his.

And then he’s grabbing you, pulling you in like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. His hands are tangled in your clothes, your hair, desperate, shaking, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you through touch alone. He kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment forever, like he’s terrified it’s all a dream and any second now, he’ll wake up.

You pull away for air—and he chases after your lips, stealing another kiss before you can even take a full breath.

This one is deeper, slower, but just as desperate. It’s like he’s pouring everything he’s ever felt into you, like he’s afraid to stop, like he’s trying to tell you everything he never could with words. And you get it—because you feel the same way.

When he finally pulls back, breathless and shaking with emotion, you press one more soft kiss against his lips, and then you say it.

“I love you.”

Ace lets out a watery laugh, his forehead dropping against yours as he grins like a fool. His eyes are shining, and he cups your face like he can’t believe you’re real.

“What took you so long?”

And then he kisses you again.

The morning after your dramatic, borderline cinematic love confession, you and Ace walk into the usual meeting spot grinning like absolute fools.

You’re both trying to act normal, like the world hasn’t completely shifted on its axis, like Ace hadn’t kissed you breathless under the stars, like you hadn’t confessed to each other in a moment so romantic it could’ve been a grand finale scene in a novel. But normalcy is impossible because the second you walk in, hand-in-hand, everyone immediately knows.

Riddle, the most composed of the group, simply pinches the bridge of his nose, exhales sharply, and mutters, “Great Sevens, finally.” His tone is not congratulatory—it is the tone of a man who has suffered for far too long, who has borne witness to the sheer idiocy of your mutual pining and is just relieved that he no longer has to endure it.

Trey, ever the calm and collected one, gives you a small, knowing smile and nods. “Congrats,” he says simply, because Trey has probably seen this coming since the very beginning. He is the type of man who could predict the weather based on the way the wind blows and has likely bet money on this exact outcome.

Cater, on the other hand, reacts as expected.

“LET’S GO, MY MAN!” he hoots, high-fiving Ace so hard that Ace actually staggers backward. “Finally out of the friendzone, huh? This is a historic moment. A certified win.” He’s already pulling out his camera, preparing to document this for the masses, and you barely manage to swat it away in time.

And then there’s Deuce. Sweet, exhausted Deuce.

He doesn’t cheer, or exclaim, or even try to congratulate you. No, Deuce just sits there, staring at the both of you like he’s just been freed from an unspeakable burden. Like he’s been carrying the weight of Ace’s obliviousness and denial on his shoulders for so long that he no longer knows what to do with himself now that it’s over.

“I don’t have to hear him deny his feelings anymore,” Deuce whispers, voice thick with emotion. “I’m free.”

Ace shoves him.

And as your friends start heckling you, teasing you, yelling at you to get a room, you turn to Ace, grinning at him as he grins right back.

And in that moment, you can’t help but think back to the mysterious, rollerblading grandma who is the reason you even ended up here. The woman who defied all logic and physics, who sent you hurtling into this world with nothing but sheer willpower and questionable urban transportation.

You close your eyes, sending a silent thanks to her.

She was a real one.

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola x reader #ace x reader #ace trappola #twst ace #twst ace x reader #ace #trash novel chronicles

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comatosebunny09 · 4 months ago

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carpe noctem [ rising action ] | sylus

— summary: you’ve convinced yourself that this is normal. routine. that you’re used to this, sitting like a fly on the wall while their relationship blossoms like a flower turned towards the sun before you. so why does it still hurt? — cw: reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, assassin!reader, unrequited feelings, mentions of blood & injuries, jealousy, profanity, sexual content, fade-to-black, self-destructive behavior, somewhat of a slow burn, mdni — notes: thank you so much for reading! [ part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 ] — now playing: bmf - sza

Breakfast is uncharacteristically quiet.

At least, for the three of you, it is. The silence makes way for the lazy swish of cars on the road, the clatter of cutlery against plates, and the idle chatter of the cafe’s other patrons.

It’s balmy outside. The type of weather that pastes your blouse to your skin and creates a fine film of sweat on the back of your neck. The kind that welcomes mosquitos and makes showering beforehand pointless. And it’s so obnoxiously bright out, nary a cloud in the sky. But you figure you're being unreasonably antsy because you’re hungover and still a little tired.

Despite the climate, your ragtag team is seated beneath a cafe’s awning, scarfing down food to battle the effects of your collective hangovers before jetting back to Linkon.

Typically, Ms. Hunter would be on about something, filling the space with her animated talk, with you and Sylus occasionally chiming in to tease her or exchange covert words concerning upcoming missions. But she’s still a little worse for wear, with dark lenses perched on her nose and a wrinkle between her brows as she pushes food around her plate.

You snort around a mouthful of eggs at her plight, tucking your amusement behind your hand. Decide to incite a little mischief to distract yourself from the weather and the creeping feeling of unease brewing in your gut.

“Someone had a rough night,” you tease, reaching for your orange juice.

She glowers at you. Sticks out her tongue, flipping you the bird. You snort into your drink, nearly sending pulp flying every which way.

“Not my fault you have the tolerance of a three-year-old.”

Your eyes crease at the corners whilst you watch her work up to a retort, mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. But before she can get a word out—

“Ladies,” Sylus interjects like a distant clap of thunder pushing across a dark horizon. He’s seated between you at the round, iron-wrought table, arms crossed over a broad chest. Sunglasses shroud scarlet intentions, but you don’t miss the twitch of a silver brow nor the humor meddling with his voice. “Play nice.”

There’s finality there. He speaks to you like a referee. Like a father who’s caught his children roughhousing, and you both shrink beneath his mock disappointment.

“Besides,” Sylus continues, casting his amused gaze on you. “You weren’t in the best of shape yourself last night. Are you really in any position to talk?”

A hot rush of mortification wades over you. You're unsure of its source, whether at your memories of last night or how quickly he came to her defense.

And so what if you stumbled a bit down the hall, searching for your room?

You didn’t think he noticed after your exchange. Figured he retreated into his room, or worse—slipped across the hall to keep his hunter friend company into the wee hours of the morning while you tossed and turned, driven to hell by thoughts of them doing everything besides sleeping.

The recollection makes you bristle, and you turn a scowl down to your food. Grumbling, you plop a slice of toast onto the hunter’s plate. She glances at you, confusion pulling her lips down.

“Eat,” you order. “Feed a hangover, starve a cold.”

“I don’t think that’s how that goes,” she counters, a pout evident in her voice. But she doesn’t protest, sitting up in her seat to nibble on your peace offering.

You resist an impulse to pat her head, your ire sloughing off, traded for something like fondness. You want to ruffle locks of silken ebony because she’s effortlessly adorable, pulling at those little heartstrings you’d worked so hard to conceal.

Sylus beats you to the punch, leaning forward to mold long fingers around the round of her head. The world slows, casting a special spotlight on the pair of them.

You ignore how your chest tightens at the scene. At the affectionate little tug of his lips as Ms. Hunter cants her face towards him, cheeks full and expression doe-like. You try to pretend like it doesn’t make you sick with resentment. Once upon a time, he used to look at you like that.

Fuck.

What are you thinking? He is your boss, and she is your charge—your friend. There’s no reason to feel like this, especially considering you practically shoved Sylus into her arms, reasoning you never stood a chance in hell with him.

You snap back to the present, and suddenly, breakfast isn’t so appetizing. You push around your cold eggs as Sylus and Ms. Hunter slide into easy conversation. You feel like a husk of yourself amid them. Like you’re impeding on something intimate, and your stomach lurches when they draw you into their chat every so often as if pitying you.

You’ve convinced yourself that this is normal. Routine. That you’re used to this, sitting like a fly on the wall while their relationship blossoms like a flower turned towards the sun. And yet, you’ve never been more eager to return to the N109 Zone. To leave these green-eyed thoughts on this island and get back to your distracting life, luring terrible people to their demise and wiping the scourge of man off the face of the planet.

You suddenly straighten, clearing the phlegm from your throat. Your silverware clatters against your plate as you shove it away, eyes regretfully shifting between them.

“So, what time do we leave?” There’s a whisper of exasperation in your tone, but you quickly conceal it with that playful arrogance you’re known for.

Sylus and the hunter trade looks of confusion and humor, blind to the turmoil of your mind slowly creeping through the folds and staining your pride like ink spilled into water.

“Eager to get back to work, aren’t you?”

You scoff, taking up your fork, clueless to scarlet eyes studying the crown of your head, narrowing at the apprehensive slope of your voice. “You have no idea.”

—

It’s a pleasure to dance. Of course, it always is. It’s one of the few times you feel desired. Wanted. Useful when your hands aren’t speckled with blood and your knuckles aren’t purpling from bashing someone’s face in for taunting The Devil.

Dancing is a versatile skill you’ve acquired with time and practice. It's one of the few pleasures you’ve drawn from this fickle life. One of the few things you kept from a past veiled in darkness, the rest tucked away in the hulls of your psyche.

All eyes are on you. Gazes burning with assorted degrees of desire, envy, and awe beneath the tawny glow of the stage lights. The attention makes you warm and tingly, and your lips salaciously curve as you move your body in time with the music, casting an inadvertent spell on all who dare to watch.

You’re the center of attention without trying to be and without the influence of your Evol. Of course, you usually are. He’s even told you so. Customers often flock to Sylus’ nightclubs to see you dance, hoping to one day have your affections.

Or to fuck you.

You rarely entertain these people. Not unless you have to. Not unless Sylus sicks you on them to further his goals or take down his competition. You’re ever the faithful lapdog, tuned to your boss’ every command, and it makes you sick with how loyal you are to him sometimes. A part of you feels you owe him for this life you lead. He’d snatched you from an impenetrable darkness. Renewed your sense of purpose and redirected your desire for revenge.

For now, you have this. The recognition of others despite how misplaced it is. They want you for your body, for the promise of what your facade offers. Deep down, you crave something more, something real. But you tamp down those feelings as you bite your lip, putting on a good show, hands smoothing over the surge of your hips. And you’re spurred by the whoops and whistles and shouts of your name as the lights dim, signaling the conclusion of your performance.

Your chest heaves with the effort of breathing, and your cheeks ache with a smile as you pose. The crowd's cheers dampen the violent thrum of your heartbeat—chase away the cacophony of your mind, adrenaline spuming through you like an erupting geyser.

You look over your shoulder towards the ceiling, catching scarlet-spun eyes from the upper floor’s rail, and your grin twitches the slightest bit. It’s a rush, having the attention of strangers. Having their desire, their yearning. But his attention is much more addicting like Nicotine furling between your teeth. For a moment, you feel seen. Like you’re the center of his universe, and not the pretty, bright-eyed damsel with enough room in her heart to house the galaxy.

Something flashes in his eyes, and the world fades. You mistake it for tenderness. Just wishful thinking. He would never choose you. He’s had four years to make you his.

Why would he suddenly choose to acknowledge you now?

—

Once the adrenaline ebbs and clubbers flood the dance floor, you’re nestled behind the crowd, leaning against the sticky countertop of the bar, clutching a glass of something acrid and glacial between your fingers—something to take the edge off. To mute the insistent pulse of your nerves.

The music thumps beneath your feet, accompanied by the sparkling chatter of the club’s other clients. Yet you still hear him amid the chaos—the familiar curl of a voice around the vowels of your name. You fix him with an amused, sultry look beneath Lux’s customary red hue.

“When are you gonna let me take you out on a date?” he asks, worn knuckles easing down the slope of your arm. You track his audacity with your eyes, jerking away from his unwarranted attention, ignoring the goosebumps igniting across your skin.

This, too, is routine—one of Lux’s regulars throwing himself at your feet, begging for an opportunity to court you. He’s been on like this for months, entertaining your game of cat and mouse. Maybe you’ve given him a false sense of hope because he’s yet to let up. In fact, he’s grown bolder with his advances lately, often popping up when you least expect him, vying for your heart.

It’s endearing, really, having someone who genuinely wants you. Or maybe he doesn’t, but you convince yourself otherwise. Play a sick little game with yourself, fooling yourself into thinking that maybe there’s more to you than your reputation builds you up to be.

You turn towards him, crossing your legs, the leather barstool sticky beneath your thighs. You lean into your knuckles, studying dark brows, whiskey-infused eyes, and full lips. You end your excursion at the thick of his throat, excitement prickling like static in your chest. He’s easy on the eyes, tone velvet smooth. Had you not been a femme fatale, you might’ve given him the time of day.

But for now—

“You couldn’t handle me,” you counter, reveling in how the smugness melts from his face.

He chuckles at your cheekiness, sweeping the tails of his blazer back and stuffing his hands into his pockets. Squares his shoulders, standing akimbo like he’s preparing for a fight, though he might as well be, stepping to you like this.

“Still holding out for that old man, I see.”

It is your turn to wear a wavering smile. Your turn to look silly, the proverbial knife driven into your stomach and twisted.

You scoff with a sneer, dumping the last vestiges of your drink down your throat. You tear yourself from your seat, reaching past the gentleman to snatch your coat from the counter, pinning him with a haughty look.

“I’m not holding out for anyone, fucker. And even if I were, it wouldn't be your slow ass.”

With a huff, you brush past him, wending through the crowd gathered on the dance floor to retreat into your dressing room.

You try vainly to contain a scowl, knowing you’ve been read like the deckled pages of a book deep down.

Maybe you refuse to move on because you feel like you’d betray Sylus if you did. How, exactly, you’re unsure. He’s had no problem betraying you, quietly shoving you out of the picture in favor of someone who’s hardly seen him bleed.

—

“Do you like anybody?” Ms. Hunter asks above the steady purr of the SUV’s engine.

Her question nearly floors you. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens slightly, and you almost choke on your spittle.

You’re stuck in traffic together.

Knowing the holidays loomed around the bend, someone decided it would be an ideal day to go to the mall. Of course, you weren’t the only people out on the road.

So naturally, she’s bored, unused to the silence stretching between you. The low croon of the music spilling from the speakers does nothing to ease the tension.

You glance at her, and she’s wearing a Cheshire Cat-like grin, studying you from the passenger seat. You swallow thickly, adjusting your shades on your face, staring at the cars sluggishly easing up beyond the windshield. “I don’t like very many people.”

An exasperated sigh later.

“C’mon! There’s gotta be someone you like. Ya’ know.” She pitches herself closer, her mischievous grin curling in your periphery, and she pokes your side with a pointed finger to get a rise out of you.

“Someone that gets your heart racing. Someone who makes your face all hot. Makes butterflies swarm in your tummy.”

You know exactly where this is going. Had you not valued your friendship—or whatever you call this complicated mashup between you—you would reveal the inner workings of your mind. But how insane would you sound, telling the hunter the person who gets your blood racing is the very same man she has tucked in her back pocket?

So, you deflect. With a sardonic smirk, you jest, “You get my heart racing when you fuck up our meetings.”

You squint and flinch away with a laugh in your throat as she swats you, whining at your cruelty.

“You suck,” pouts Ms. Hunter, falling back into her seat with crossed arms. “Bet it’s that guy who always stalks you at Lux.”

You side-eye her in the rearview, placatingly patting her head. “I like you, stupid. Isn’t that good enough?”

Maybe one day.

One day, you’ll have the intestinal fortitude to tell her the truth—to tell them both the truth. How you’re falling apart at the stitching, the world you know falling away from beneath your feet.

—

You’re not as strong as you let on. You’re human beneath that flirtatious exterior—still a woman with wants and needs, not immune to the temptations of the flesh. Which is why you find yourself at his doorstep, a glacial, errant breeze ruffling the tails of your coat as the silvery moon haloes your silhouette.

He leans against the doorframe, brown eyes simmering with intrigue as he takes you in. Dark hair sweeps over raised brows. “What made you change your mind?”

You shrug, hands stuffed in your pockets, a quirk to your lips. “Maybe I just need a friend.”

He chuckles low, arms crossed. “A friend, huh?”

“Yeah.”

There’s no mistaking the pitch of your voice. The air charges with something amorous as he ushers you into his apartment. You brush past him, tamping down your dignity as you disappear into the warm sanctity of his home, his hand reassuring at the small of your back.

Had you taken the time to survey your surroundings, you would’ve noticed a set of beady, crimson eyes peering through the inky night, watching you from their perch atop a powerline.

And had you further investigated, you would’ve heard the familiar whirr of machinery as the iridescent outline of sleek feathers recorded your every move.

conflict | masterlist | climax

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus love and deepspace #sylus qin #sylus angst #carpe noctem series #limerence series #reader is not mc

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moniquesha · 1 month ago

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carousel

Pair: Bucky x reader

Summary: You and Bucky keep breaking up and getting back together, stuck in a cycle of love, miscommunication, and missed expectations. In short, everyone around you just finds it toxic at this point.

Warnings: toxic relationship, emotional rollercoaster, love-hate sex! <3

Three years with Bucky Barnes. Three long, exhausting years. Not exhausting because of him. Well, maybe a little. But exhausting because at this point, everyone in your life seems tired of it.

When you first met Bucky, it was through one of those dating apps you never imagined he'd be on. He was old, ancient actually, but you figured he was trying his best to adapt. And hell, if he was on a dating app, then why not? You swiped, he swiped, and that was it.

The first date went surprisingly well. No awkward silences, no weirdness. Just a normal date with a guy who happened to be a former assassin with a metal arm. Then came the second, third, and somehow, the fourth. He ghosted you a little, sure, but when he came back, he had a reasonable excuse: he was busy. And it was true! You saw him on TV, helping people, fighting threats that no normal person could. He wasn't lying; he was just really busy. So, you understood.

Kind of.

The fifth date, he confessed that he was new to this but willing to make it work. You weren’t new to relationships, but Bucky was new to you, so you said the exact same words back to him. He seemed to appreciate it. By the sixth date, he was more comfortable. Comfortable with himself, his body, his past. He brought up sex.

Not in a crass way, but in a way that showed he was opening up to you. And when you finally got there, it was intense. He admitted he hadn’t come like that in years, which made you blush. And after that? Well, the rest was history.

Somehow, a whole year passed before either of you realized it. Everyone around you had opinions. Some were genuinely happy, others were just bitter that you had managed to bag the hottest Avenger. But Bucky wasn’t ready to talk about that yet.

“You know there’s a thing called the honeymoon phase, right?” a friend of yours, one with a little too much hidden animosity, quipped as you framed your first photo with Bucky and placed it on your bedside table. You rolled your eyes.

There was no phase. Bucky was from the ‘40s, a mature man who wasn’t some impulsive playboy. He wasn’t the type to chase one girl and then suddenly claim the next one was ‘the one.’ That wasn’t Bucky. And you? You were rational. You were mature. That’s why he picked you in the first place.

But oh, how wrong you were.

At the start, everything was exciting. The thrill of dating an Avenger, the little moments where Bucky let himself be soft with you, and the way he slowly learned how to be in a relationship in this era. It all made for a romance that felt like it was pulled from a storybook.

It was supposed to be perfect. But three years in, you’re starting to notice something you didn’t before.

The honeymoon phase didn’t exist in your mind because Bucky wasn’t the type. He wasn’t some player. He wasn’t some guy who’d jump ship the second things got too real. He picked you, and you picked him, and that was that. A steady, adult relationship with no childish fears of “phases” or “cold feet.”

But now? You’re starting to wonder if maybe your friend had a point.

It starts small.

The framed photo on your nightstand collects dust. Neither of you moves it, and neither of you acknowledges it. You don’t think much of it until you realize you haven’t taken any new photos together in months. He’s still busy, of course.

He always has been, but before he used to make time. Used to send you grainy selfies with captions like “this is me trying” or “the camera hates my metal arm.” Now? It’s weeks before he texts you back, and when he does, it’s nothing more than an “I miss you” or “sorry, things have been crazy.”

You tell yourself it’s fine. It’s Bucky. He’s from the ‘40s. He’s not glued to his phone.

But then, it’s the way he hesitates before reaching for your hand in public.

The way his kisses feel more like habits than something he actually wants.

The way your dates have turned into staying in, sitting on the couch, and watching the same shows in silence instead of the deep conversations you used to have.

Bucky isn’t a playboy. He isn’t the kind of guy who jumps from one person to the next, but something is off, and it’s been off for a while. And for the first time, you start wondering if maybe, just maybe, you are in a phase.

And maybe the phase is ending.

But you don’t say anything. Not yet. Because Bucky is Bucky, and you love him, and if this is just a rough patch, it’ll pass.

Right?

At first, you don’t want to admit it. You don’t want to be the person who nitpicks every small change and turns it into some grand declaration that your relationship is falling apart. But when you really sit with it, when you really let yourself feel it, you realize something:

You’re holding your breath.

You’re waiting.

For what? You’re not sure. Maybe for Bucky to snap out of it. Maybe for him to tell you what’s wrong. Maybe for him to look at you the way he used to, with that quiet, awed kind of devotion, like he couldn’t believe you were real.

But it’s been months, and he still hasn’t.

“You guys are still together?” Sam asks one evening, his voice laced with something between amusement and genuine surprise. It’s supposed to be a joke, but it hits wrong.

You force a laugh. “Of course we are.”

Sam hums. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s holding back. He’s been Bucky’s best friend for years now, and if he’s noticed something, then maybe, maybe you’re not just imagining things.

Maybe you should say something.

So you do.

It’s late when you finally bring it up. You and Bucky are sitting on the couch, some old movie playing in the background. He’s beside you, but he’s a world away, arm draped over the back of the couch, gaze locked on the screen, jaw tight like he’s thinking about something else entirely.

You take a deep breath. “Are we okay?”

Bucky blinks. Turns to you, brows furrowing. “What?”

You hesitate, then push forward. “Us. Are we okay?”

His frown deepens, and for a split second, you swear there’s something like guilt in his expression. But then, he shakes his head. “Of course we are.”

He says it so casually, so easily, that it makes you feel ridiculous for even asking.

But that feeling only lasts for a moment, because then he turns back to the movie without another word. Like that’s the end of the conversation. Like your question wasn’t even worth talking about.

You’re not in a relationship anymore. Not really. You’re just in something that’s familiar. And for the first time in three years, you wonder if it’s time to let go.

And like a twig, you snap it.

You break up with Bucky Barnes.

It happens so fast, so brutally, that even you can’t believe it. One minute, you’re sitting across from him, staring at him with tears in your eyes, and the next, the words are out in the open, sharp and final.

“We should break up.”

Bucky barely reacts. His jaw clenches, his fingers twitch, but he doesn’t argue. He just sits there, watching you, and that makes you angrier.

“Did you even love me?” you ask, voice shaking.

His brows furrow. “Of course I did—”

“Then what the hell happened?” Your voice cracks, and you hate yourself for it.

His answer? More of the same. The same cycle, the same excuses, the same carousel of it’s not you, it’s me and I don’t know how to do this and I didn’t mean to hurt you. Round and round and round. And by the time you leave, by the time the door shuts behind you and you step into the cold, you’re exhausted.

You’re done.

The news spreads fast. One minute, you and Bucky are celebrating your anniversary, and the next, it’s over. People ask what happened, but you don’t have an answer. At least, not one that makes sense. Because when you dig, when you let yourself go full detective-mode like your generation is so damn good at, you realize something:

There’s no other girl.

There’s no distractions.

No betrayal, no grand reveal of secrets.

Nothing.

Just Bucky. Just the quiet, steady way he pulled back, little by little, until he was barely there at all. Until you had to be the one to make the choice to end it.So now, you’re alone in your apartment, music blasting, trying to drown out the sound of your own sobs.

And when the tears slow, when the ache in your chest settles into something dull and familiar, you think.

Maybe he just got bored of me.

That’s it. No mess, no complications. Just a man who got tired of loving you.

Three months.

Three months of trying to unlove someone who had already let you go.

It wasn’t easy. The first few weeks were unbearable. Every morning, waking up and reaching for someone who wasn’t there, every night, fighting the urge to text him just to ask why. But you did what people do when they’re heartbroken: you healed. Slowly, quietly, in all the ways that weren’t pretty but were necessary.

You stopped crying. Stopped replaying the breakup in your head like a scene from a tragic movie. Stopped looking for him in crowded streets, in news reports, in the tiny spaces of your life where he used to fit so effortlessly.

And then one morning, without realizing it, you woke up and felt… okay. Not whole, not entirely yourself again, but okay enough to exist without him.

You thought that was the end of it.

But the universe? The universe wasn’t done with you.

Because three months later, on a perfectly normal Tuesday, you walk into your favorite café, the one you introduced Bucky to, the one that had always been yours first, and there he is. Standing at the counter, waiting for his coffee. Looking almost exactly the same, except for the way his shoulders tense when he sees you.

And just like that, it happens.

Like muscle memory, like fate, like some cruel joke the universe is playing on you. you fall in love with him all over again.

Your heart skips a beat. Your breath catches. You hate it. You hate that he still has this effect on you, that after everything, after all the pain and healing and moving on, one glance is all it takes to unravel you.

Bucky swallows, shifting awkwardly. “Hey.”

You grip your tote bag tighter. “Hey.”

For a second, neither of you move. The café bustles around you, but it all feels distant, like you’ve been pulled into some private, inescapable moment with him.

And just like that, you’re together again.

You don’t talk about the breakup, not really. There’s a few apologies, a few quiet I missed you’s exchanged between coffee sips and hesitant touches, but nothing deep. Nothing real. It’s easier that way. It’s easier to just feel the love again rather than question why it stopped in the first place.

People buy it.

“We’re trying again,” you say with a small smile.

“We love each other,” Bucky adds.

And because your friends are supportive, they nod and go along with it. They send congratulatory texts, say if you’re happy, we’re happy, and raise their glasses in a half-hearted toast to round two.

Then.. you break up again.

This time, there’s no big fight. No dramatic moment where someone walks out. Just exhaustion. Just the slow realization that maybe, loving each other isn’t enough. Everyone gets it. You cry into your best friend’s shoulder, and they pat your back and say, “Maybe it’s for the best.”

Then, a few months later, you and Bucky get back together.

No one claps this time.

No yay, you found your way back! or third time’s the charm! Just a long silence, a few shared glances, and one person daring to say, “Are you sure about this?”

But you don’t want to hear that. Because this time? This time, it’s going to work.

Except it doesn’t.

Another breakup. Another reconciliation. Another crash.

And by the time you both get back together for what might be the fourth, no, fifth time, your friends have stopped asking about it entirely.

No one cheers. No one comforts you. No one even reacts when you and Bucky inevitably call it quits again.

At this point, it’s just a bad game of whac-a-mole. One where everyone else stopped playing, but you and Bucky are still stuck in an endless loop, waiting to see which one of you will get tired of the game first.

“Three years of this shit, Bucky! Aren’t you fucking tired?”

Your voice cracks as you say it, as the words rip out of you like they’ve been waiting to be said for months. Maybe even years.

Across from you, Bucky exhales sharply, running a hand down his face. He looks just as exhausted as you feel. His jaw is clenched, his shoulders tense, but his eyes, his stupid, beautiful, heartbreaking blue eyes are filled with something you can’t even name anymore. Regret? Frustration? Love? All of the above?

“I don’t know,” he mutters, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to—” He stops, shakes his head. “I don’t know how to do this, okay?”

You let out a bitter laugh, shoving your hands into your pockets like that’ll keep them from shaking. “You’ve had three years to figure it out, James.”

He flinches. You see it. The tiny, almost imperceptible twitch of his fingers, the way his lips press into a thin line. But he doesn’t argue.

And maybe that’s the worst part.

Because if he fought, if he yelled or got angry, at least it would mean he cared. But instead, he just stands there, letting you unravel, letting this whole thing crash and burn like it always does.

And God, you hate him for it.

Hate that he pulled you back in just to let you go again. Hate that he made you believe, one more time, that you could make this work. Hate that even now, as you’re standing here, practically begging for a reason to stay, you still love him.

And you think, that’s the problem, isn’t it?

You love him. He loves you.

But love was never the problem. It was everything else.

Maybe it was you. Maybe it was him.

At this point, you don’t even know anymore. The relationship is just a car that keeps skidding off the road, and neither of you wants to admit who’s behind the wheel. There are no more tears. No yelling, no throwing hands up in frustration. Just exhaustion.

You sit across from him, slumped in your chair, staring at the table between you. A silent battlefield of half-drunk coffee cups, an untouched plate of something neither of you had the appetite for, and all the words you’ve both been too tired to say.

You sigh.

Bucky sighs.

And for the first time in three years, you realize.. there’s nothing left to fight for. Not because the love is gone, no, that’s the problem. The love is still there. But love alone has never been enough.

Not for you. Not for him. Not for this.

Bucky leans forward, elbows on the table, staring at his hands like they hold the answer to all of this. “So… what now?”

You exhale slowly, fingers tracing the rim of your cup. “I don’t know.”

Neither of you say it, but you both do know. It’s over.

For real, this time.

“I'm sorry, Y/N.”

His voice is quiet, almost too quiet, like he doesn’t want to break whatever fragile thing is still holding this moment together.

You look at him. Really look at him. He looks wrecked. Dark circles under his eyes, shoulders hunched like he’s carrying the weight of something he can’t put down. You wonder if he’s been sleeping. You wonder if he’s been hurting the way you have.

And then you wonder if it even matters anymore.

Because sorry won’t fix this.

Sorry won’t rewind time. It won’t erase the months of uncertainty, the constant breakups, the way you kept circling back to each other just to fall apart all over again.

You nod, because you don’t know what else to do. “Yeah.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Me too.”

And just like that, it’s done.

Bucky steps forward, hesitates for only a second, then wraps his arms around you.

One last hug.

You tell yourself that’s all it is. That it’s just closure, just a final goodbye, just something to soften the inevitable ache of walking away from each other for good this time. And like muscle memory, you accept it. Your hands grip the back of his shirt. His fingers press into your spine. He exhales slowly, like he’s been holding his breath this entire time, and for a moment, you almost feel normal again.

Then it lingers. Too long.

Long enough that you should pull away. Long enough that this isn’t just a goodbye anymore. Long enough that his nose brushes against your temple, his lips ghost over your skin, and suddenly, you’re tilting your head, giving him space to press a real kiss there.

You shudder.

And just like that, you’re gone.

Clothes come off without thinking. Without reason. Without logic.

“Fuck, I don’t wanna let go,” he mutters, voice rough and low, lips brushing the shell of your ear. His hard cock already stirring in his jeans, pulsing against the zipper, and you know you feel it. How could you not?

The both of you are too close now, too wound up. You don’t even think, just yank his jacket off, letting it hit the floor with a dull thud, and his hands are on you again, shoving under your shirt, greedy for bare skin.

You don’t stop him, and that’s all the green light he needed. He peels your shirt up and off, tossing it somewhere in the room, and you do the same with his shirt next, ripped over his head, muscles flexing as you expose the hard lines of his chest, that metal arm shining over the dim lights again.

His eyes rake over you, drinking in every curve, every dip. Your tits, they’re perfect, soft and heavy, nipples pebbling in the chilly air. Bucky groans, a deep, guttural sound, and sinks to his knees right there in front of the couch, hands gripping your hips. “Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good,” He growls, What a great way to break up you think.

He looks up at you with doe eyes before his teeth catch the waistband of your pants. He tugs, slow and deliberate, undoing the button with his fingers, the zipper sliding down with a rasp that’s drowned out by your thoughts of why the hell this is happening now. His fingers hook in and yank them off, leaving you bare, your slick cunt glistening in front of him pink and swollen, like a goddamn flower begging to be plucked.

He shoves his hand between your legs, parting your thighs, and his thumb grazes your clit, teasing that little bud till he feels you tremble. “So fuckin’ wet already,” He rasp, voice dripping with lust, and lean in, licking his lips before his tongue darts out, lapping at your inner thigh first, tasting the salt of your skin.

He gives good head when he’s breaking up with you, it annoys you but that annoyance fades when he dives in, mouth on your cunt, sucking your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around that soaked hole.

You shudder. “Fuck, Bucky.” You whimper, legs closing against his head but he forces them open again. “Oh fuck, you taste like heaven.” He pulls away momentarily before his tongue delves deeper, dipping into your slickness, playing with your juices as they coat his chin, sloppy and messy and so damn hot. He pulls back just a sec, making eye contact, letting you see the hunger in his gaze, “Fucking hell. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Bucky, please–”

“Look, Y/N I’m just trying to–”

“Jesus! You’re eating me out Barnes, can we fucking talk about it after?”

He blinks, nods, and just like that his hands roam, one cupping your ass, kneading that soft flesh, the other sliding up to pinch a nipple, rolling it between his fingers till he hears you gasp. You see him quickly stand, his dick’s so hard it’s probably aching, precum leaking through his jeans. He shoves them down, kicking them off with his boots, and his thick cock springs free, rigid, red, and throbbing, the head slick with need.

He grabs your chin, tilting your face up, “You talk too much sometimes and it annoys me.” and crashes his lips into yours, bruising and desperate. Your teeth click, tongues rolling together, fucking your mouth with his. You suck his bottom lip, biting it till it swells, then he swirls his tongue around yours, groaning into the kiss.

“And I hate when you leave the kitchen dirty like I’m some fucking maid.”

He scoffs, like what he’s hearing is so untrue. “On your knees,” He pants, voice shaking with want. His hand fists your hair, guiding you, and when your lips finally wrap around his dick, Bucky jolts, a sharp “Shit.” ripping from his throat. You hollow your cheeks, sucking him in, tongue swirling over his head, lapping up the precum as he thrusts his hips up, testing you.

“Take my dick, shit, just like that,” He grunts, hips rocking, and you deep throat him, wet heat engulfing him till he feels your throat tighten. and he slows it down, pulling back, trembling as he fights the urge to blow right then. “Not yet,” he huffs, voice wrecked, “Wanna fuck you first.”

He yanks you up, spinning you around, and shove you onto the couch, ass up. His hands splay across your back, raking nails down your spine as he line up, rubbing his cock up and down your slit, teasing that dirty little pussy of yours.

“I hate when you tell me what to do like I’m your child. I’m your fucking boyfriend, Y/N.” He murmurs, breath tickling your ear, and then he sinks in. Slow at first, stretching your slick pussy wide, groaning loud as he buries himself deep.

“Oh fucking hell, so tight,” He moans, setting a rhythm, “Fuck, James. You’re so–” he snaps his hips, pounding into you, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. Your ass bounces with every thrust, “I hate when you–” You throw your head down, whimpering. “When you don’t pay attention to my achievements.” and he switches it up—pulling out, slick with your juices, and pounding back into you again.

“God! You’re such a fucking asshole,” you growl, and he pushes back in, slow and brutal, feeling you quake around him.

The pace builds, wild thrusts slamming into you, his hands clutching your shoulders, then your tits, kneading them rough. “Oh fuck, oh my fuckin’ pussy’s yours James,” You hear him groan, lost in it, and when he feels that climax creeping up, he slowly drags it out, letting his cock pulse inside your pussy.

“If I’m an asshole, then you’re a bitch. But god, you’re the only one I want.” Then he snaps hard, one last time, and explodes his massive load spilling deep inside, your whole body shaking as you also reach your climax just in time with him.

What a time to be in sync.

You cry out, “Fuck!” And he collapses over you, panting, soaked in sweat and filth, the room quiet again with nothing but you and Bucky’s heavy breaths.

You’re both panting, bodies tangled together on the couch, the heat of what just happened still clinging to your skin. The room smells like sex.

The silence is thick. Too thick.

You stare at the ceiling, heart still hammering, and let your mind wander back—back to all the fights, all the words said in anger, all the things that chipped away at whatever this was.

The things he hated. The things you hated.

Maybe that’s what keeps breaking this relationship apart. Maybe it was never about bad timing, or Bucky not knowing how to love, or you expecting too much. Maybe it was just this.

A cycle. A loop. A bad habit neither of you know how to quit.

Your fingers trace over his metal arm, absently following the lines of it, before you finally ask, “Did you mean it? Those things you said?”

Bucky tenses beside you.

You don’t specify which words you mean, because there were so many. Words spit out in the heat of a fight, words muttered in exhaustion, words you’re still carrying like stones in your chest.

He shifts slightly, running a hand down his face. “Which ones?”

You huff a small, humorless laugh. “The bad ones. Your way of dirty talk I guess.”

He exhales sharply, like he already knows where this is going but doesn’t want to go there.

“I don’t know,” he admits. His voice is rough, tired. “I was angry. You were angry.”

“So maybe you did mean it.”

Bucky turns his head, finally looking at you. He looks wrecked, like he hates that you’re even having this conversation. “Do you think I did?”

You swallow. “I don’t know.”

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t know.

Because even now, even after everything, part of you still wonders if all those fights, all those cruel little truths that slipped out when the gloves came off, maybe they weren’t just words. Maybe they were real. And maybe, no matter how much you love each other, you were never meant to work.

Bucky kills your thoughts as he shifts beside you, his fingers absently tracing circles on your bare thigh. His voice is quiet when he speaks.

"Remember when I said I was new to this? And you said the same thing?"

You do.

It was on your fifth date, when things still felt fresh, when love hadn’t yet turned into a battlefield. When he admitted, hesitantly, that he didn’t really know how to do this, how to be in a relationship, how to navigate something that wasn’t war or survival or duty.

And you, thinking you were being clever, had just repeated his words back to him. I’m not new to this, but I’m new to you.

Back then, it felt sweet. Like a promise. Now? It feels like irony.

Because after three years of trying, of breaking and fixing and breaking again, you realize, maybe neither of you ever figured it out.

Maybe you both thought love would be enough to bridge the gap between what you wanted to be and what you actually were. You swallow, turning your head to look at him. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I remember.”

Bucky exhales, staring up at the ceiling. “I meant it. I still do.” He pauses, his fingers stilling on your skin. “But I think we kept making the same mistakes because we never actually learned from them.”

Your chest tightens. You want to argue, but deep down, you know he’s right.

You love him. He loves you.

But love alone was never the problem.

It was everything else. The way you never really talked, not about the things that mattered. The way you both kept waiting for the other to fix things, steering this relationship straight into the same crash over and over again. Bucky sighs, rubbing his hands over his face before turning to you. His expression is raw, tired, honest, real.

“Over time, everything feels amazing and great, but then… I just felt like you’re moving, and I can’t catch up that quickly, Y/N.”

Your heart clenches.

“I’m a man out of time,” he continues, voice low, almost like he’s ashamed to admit it. “And as I’m slowly getting some of that back, I just… I just need a hand to walk with. I don’t want to go to your friends’ parties sometimes, or go to a concert of that Swift girl—”

A huff of laughter escapes you at that, but he’s not joking.

“Maybe I just want to stay here with you,” he murmurs, looking down at his hands. “And learn more of what I’ve missed for the past century.”

And fuck, if that doesn’t hit you right in the chest.

Because for all this time, for all the back and forth and the constant breaking apart, maybe this was part of it. Maybe you were trying to drag him into your world, into now, without realizing that he was still catching up. That he was still learning how to exist, how to breathe in a time that wasn’t his own.

You never thought about it like that. You never thought he might have felt left behind.

Your throat tightens, and suddenly, you don’t know what to say.

You reach for his hand instead, lacing your fingers through his. His grip is warm, solid, and when he looks up at you, it’s with something you haven’t seen in a long time, hope.

Maybe you two were never meant to work. Or maybe you just needed to understand each other better.

You squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Bucky exhales, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I had my faults too. I wasn’t open to you.. And I just thought if I told you, you’d find me boring.”

Your brows furrow. “That’s not true, and you know that.” You sit up a little, your fingers still tangled with his. “I guess in my perspective, I just wanted to show you everything, but I never really thought about what you’d feel first. I’m sorry I didn’t ask.”

Bucky watches you carefully, his lips pressing into a small, almost sad smile.

“We were both just trying,” he murmurs. “Trying to make it work in our own ways.”

You nod. That’s exactly it, isn’t it?

You wanted to pull him forward, into your world, your life. And he just wanted time, time to settle, time to understand, time to figure out who he was now, after everything.

Neither of you were wrong. Neither of you were right.

You glance down at your joined hands, then back up at him. “So… what do we do now?”

Bucky tilts his head, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I don’t know,” he admits softly. Then, quieter. “But maybe we actually take our time figuring it out.”

You sigh, tilting your head back against the couch. “Okay, you know, my friend had this phase with his boyfriend too. And guess what?”

Bucky raises a brow. “What?”

“They figured out that they were just both missing each other and hadn't had sex in months.” You turn to look at him, half-serious, half-amused. “And after that, they made sure every time they could. And boom! they’re married.”

Bucky blinks.

Then, he lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Are you saying we just needed more sex?”

“I'm saying maybe we were overcomplicating things.” You smirk, nudging his side. “I mean, look at tonight.”

Bucky huffs, rolling his eyes, but there’s something softer in the way he’s looking at you now. A little lighter.

“Alright,” he says, squeezing your hand. “So, what? We just keep fucking and hope for a ring at the end of it?”

You laugh, feeling something inside you ease for the first time in a while. “Not just that,” you tease. “But.. I think we stop trying to make this relationship fit some perfect idea of what it should be, and just–” You shrug. “Be. Together. The way that works for us.”

Bucky watches you for a long moment, then nods. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I think I like that plan.”

You squeeze his hand a little tighter, eyes searching his. The weight of everything, the fights, the breakups, the uncertainty, hangs in the air between you. But so does something else. Something softer.

“I love you.”

Bucky’s breath hitches, just for a second. His grip on your hand tightens like he needs to hold onto you, to this moment. And when he exhales, it’s slow, careful, like he’s letting something settle inside him.

Then he looks at you, really looks at you, and he smiles. Like ‘Finally. You see me.’

“I love you more, Y/N.”

And this time, it doesn’t feel like a promise they say in movies, or something said out of desperation. It just is.

Like breathing. Like something inevitable. Like something real.

And for once, you think, maybe this time, we’ll get it right.

a/n: based on true events .. ?

divider from: omi-resources

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theseinfernalangels · 2 months ago

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A Guide to my Empyrean OCs

So! As I started writing my next fic™️ (Liam time!!), I realized that it would make absolutely no sense unless you all had more context for these OCs. Of course, fics will stay in second person, but I absolutely hate using “Y/N” and wanted room for specific characters with actual backstories and such. I might end up changing some lore in the future, but I figured this would be an appropriate start. Don’t be surprised when I come back to edit this a million times 🥲

Lieutenant Freya Levine – Bodhi Durran

Rider (Marked), Graduated

The daughter of Commander Erik Levine, a close confidant of Fen Riorson, who was turned in by a fellow Tyrrish officer, Major Leon Jarrell, in turn for a pardon from execution. Quietly seeking revenge and insists on aiding Garrick and Bodhi with their weapon smuggling (much to Xaden’s dismay). Quite traditional and forces herself to adapt to her new life without her parents quickly in order to protect Sloane, her foster sister. Enjoys drawing and has a photographic memory. She’s not the best at forming friendships due to the trust issues she faces, but Bodhi is stubborn and refuses to let her wallow in peace. They grew up together and he missed her terribly when they were split up after the Apostasy.

SIGNET: Weather Manipulation (& Unweaving Wards)

DRAGON: Spéirling (Spéir) – Female Black Swordtail

Anya Holt – Dain Aetos

Rider, Third Year

Raised by her mother in Calldyr in one of the most crime-ridden areas until she dies when Anya is 8. Anya is very musically inclined and has perfect pitch, and sings on the streets for money with her adopted family until she is 18. She joins the Riders Quadrant and is initially looked down upon because of her upbeat, go-with-the-flow nature. She and Dain have their differences at first, but after an unlikely encounter, a couple of crash-outs, and an almost-fatal occurrence, the two find common ground. Anya is known for being sweet but overwhelmingly honest, to the point where it can make others uncomfortable sometimes.

SIGNET: Truth-Sayer

DRAGON: Fíochmhar (Fíoch) – Male Brown Scorpiontail

Faelyn Fox – Ridoc Gamlyn

Rider, First Year

The daughter of tavern owners, Faelyn grew up without a lot of attention, which resulted in her becoming very impulsive to try and get their attention. Recovering kleptomaniac. Snuck away from home to join the Riders Quadrant against her parents’ wishes. Kind of has no idea of what she’s doing but is fast as hell and ultra-stealthy, which she uses to her advantage to survive in the Quadrant. Especially good at hiding and finding things (and finds herself in hot water when she finds out some classified information). Her impulsivity attracts Ridoc like a moth to a flame. She didn’t see him as much more than a friend (with benefits) until she was almost taken out by a salty cadet in a would-have-been assassination attempt, and he keeps her alive. They grow closer after that, with him helping her emotionally recover from the ordeal.

SIGNET: Concealment by touch

DRAGON: Natharthaslíoc (Nat) – Female Green Scorpiontail

Kora Callahan – Sawyer Henrick

Rider, Second Year

Comes from a long line of military heroes and is secretly terrified of never living up to her family’s high expectations. The daughter of Major Raina Callahan and Colonel Dante Callahan, she is expected to be as deadly and unforgiving as them but is actually very gentle and hates violence. She should have enlisted in the Healers Quadrant given her abundance of medical knowledge, but she didn’t want to disappoint her parents. A lot of her squadmates defer to her for healing anyway because of her quiet nature and soft demeanor. She tries not to draw too much attention to herself, as she would definitely be a target of bias due to the ruthlessness of her parents. Poor baby just wants to brew her tea and help people – people like Sawyer, who is also insecure about his place in the quadrant for being a repeat. Close to Eden (see below) and spends a ton of time in the infirmary when not busy. Imagine her reaction to Sawyer’s accident – I promise it was not pretty.

SIGNET: Mending

DRAGON: Cridheteòm (Cridhe) – Male Green Clubtail

Iris Balaska – Aaric Graycastle

Rider (Marked), Third Year, Executive Officer

Literally had no idea of her parent’s involvement in the Tyrrish Rebellion until it was too late. They were among the first to be executed, solidifying Iris’ hatred for the Navarrian military. She doesn’t draw much attention to herself until she spars for the first time and breaks another cadet’s arm for bad-mouthing Imogen. She feels terribly betrayed when Xaden and Violet start going out, because he knows how she feels about her mother. Eventually, though, she starts to get over her grudge after Violet kills Jack (she hated the prick even more than Lilith). A bundle of grief and anger who just needs to punch something every once in a while. Aaric, our chill prince, has the odd ability to soothe her temper and get her to let loose for a little bit, but that’s only after they get over their prior tension: She knows who he is right away, and he tries to avoid her at all costs because she’s lowkey terrifying and he thinks she’s threatening him (she’s not – she’s just like that). She’s just suspicious of him, though, and thinks that his father sent him to keep an eye on the Marked cadets.

SIGNET: Luck-Bender.

DRAGON: Cinniúintcluain (Cinni) – Female Red Clubtail

Lieutenant Cosette Camden(-Tauri) – Garrick Tavis

Rider, Graduated

The bastard daughter of King Tauri, two years older than Aaric. She was raised as Halden’s and Alic’s sister (they look remarkably identical and are close in age anyway) after being taken in by the royal family, but she is always reminded that she is not accepted. The king, as a means of getting rid of her, banishes Cosette to the Riders Quadrant – he couldn’t stand the embarrassment he felt when looking at her, and her knack for running away infuriated him. What he doesn’t expect is that she flourishes there and has more potential as a rider than a royal. Exceptional with knives and collects them over the years. Garrick is not aware of her royal status at first and defends her when other, more aware cadets harass her for being illegitimate. Once they get a little closer, she tells him who she actually is, and he vows to protect her with his life. Was not aware of Aaric’s joining the Riders Quadrant until she happens to stumble upon him during a visit to Violet. Yikes!

SIGNET: Light Summoning

DRAGON: Seachranréalta (Seachran) – Male Orange Morningstartail

Eden Kiyoko – Liam Mairi

Healer (former Rider), First Year (repeat)

Was originally in the Riders Quadrant until she was brutally attacked by another cadet for resisting his advances, leaving her permanently disabled and unable to continue to Threshing. Luckily, her high intelligence allowed her to transfer to the Healers Quadrant with ease. Uses a cane and is always armed – even though she’s safe with the healers, she can’t help but feel the need to protect herself after her attack and develops great anxiety about being injured again. She has the uncanny ability to feel the pain of others as if it was her own, which makes her a formidable healer and allows her to get close to leadership even as a First Year cadet. Close with Kora and studies ‘under’ her to advance her medical knowledge. Met Liam purely by coincidence – she just happened to be in the same room as him and was introduced through Iris. His gentleness and her strength compliment each other greatly. Only time will tell how great her strength truly is…

Commander Sabine Ambrose – Brennan Sorrengail

Rider, Graduated, former Wingleader

Graduated Basgiath before the Rebellion started. Her adoptive moms, scribe Elora Ambrose and Commander Danica Sharpe, adopted her and her clumsy little sister when they were small children. They raised Sabine to be intelligent and quick-witted, to never accept anything half-assed, and to be loyal to those she loves. Saves Brennan when he almost gets thrown off the Parapet by sticking his assailant in the back with a remarkably small glass knife. She’s definitely the Wine Aunt of the group, although she generally presents herself to be quite the stoic in the beginning for fear of being targeted. He is able to push through her walls, though, and allows her to feel comfortable in her own skin. Sciath, her dragon, is Marbh’s mate, forever binding her to Brennan. She follows him to Aretia and is more than keen on shielding him after he (kind of?) died – doesn’t exactly coddle him per se, but is definitely protective of him – not that he minds.

SIGNET: Shielding

DRAGON: Sciathcion (Sciath) – Female Blue Swordtail

#the empyrean #fourth wing #iron flame #onyx storm #aaric graycastle #dain aetos #garrick tavis #ridoc gamlyn #liam mairi #bodhi durran #sawyer henrick #brennan sorrengail #fourth wing imagines #empyrean ocs

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secriden · 5 months ago

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So I was pondering just why I like Style so much and why his specific "failings" and imperfections are so compelling to me - and I think it's because all the other main characters are flawed in ways that are obvious but not very relatable.

Fadel and Bison are murders. Regardless of their motivations and how much they buy into Mama Lilly's propaganda, they still have taken lives and do so with little remorse. Kant is actively lying to, manipulating and taking advantage of Bison and Style (his supposed best friend) for his own ends with seemingly very little compunction. Yes, he's got his reasons; but still.

And then you have Style. His major flaw is that he is thoughtless and selfish and he doesn't seem to understand how to leash in his impulsive desires. This means he constantly ignores or crosses Fadel's boundaries to the point that, by the end of episode 3, is genuinely hurtful. All the same, compared to the things Fadel, Bison, and Kant have done and are still doing (reminder: ep 3 opened with another murder/assassination), this is relatively tame.

But that's precisely why I think people are being so harsh to him vs the other characters. Many of us have felt like the victim of someone like this because it's so common and so we relate to Fadel's frustration and then hurt and anger, and that makes Style actions feel painful in a way that’s personal. Few of us have been victims of the level of violence or manipulation that Fadel and Bison and Kant are dishing out.

Yet that's precisely why I like Style - he's imperfect in ways that add realistic complexity to his character. Why would we expect a character who is bold, brash, and impulsive to also be thoughtful and considerate?? He acts before he can think about things: that's the whole point of his character. He juxtaposes Fadel perfectly because Fadel "plans everything down from years, months, weeks to days" and Style hasn't acted with more than 8 seconds of forethought in his life. It’s part of what makes him perfect for Kant's plan in the first place.

But then, but THEN once Style begins interacting with Fadel, we start to get moments when Style seems to still and become intensely focused - most notably:

Right after the confrontation in the locker rooms (sadly I don't think anyone's gif'ed this yet, so screenshots it is!)...

…after his conversation with Bison about Fadel…

…and when he watches Fadel beat 3 guys up with ease.

We are watching Style find reasons to grow. We are seeing moments when he’s catching himself, slowing down, thinking, wondering. And while it initially starts with curiosity, he so quickly falls into fascination and obsession, and by the end of episode 3 it’s clear he wants more. It's not just about understanding Fadel anymore, Style wants to have him for himself. And if he's going to be something meaningful to Fadel he’s going to have to mature.

This is why I find Style so interesting and so fun to watch. He’s loud, in your face, and obnoxious so the layers aren’t as obvious. We think there’s nothing more there, but his complexity is deceptively hidden while they’re ironically much clearer in the quiet characters like Fadel and Kant.

And I don't think it's unreasonable to expect this growth. Style is written TO HAVE ROOM TO GROW. And, yes, I do think Style is going to rise gloriously to the challenge. We already have hints that this is precisely where the narrative means to take him:

(Fuck, look at how soft and earnest Style's expression is in the left screenshot. ;A;)

He’s by no means perfect but that gives him space to have a hell of a character arc and I, for one, can’t wait for it. 🙌

#my heart feels so tender towards style okay TwT #it feels like the whole world (both in universe and a huge section of the audience) is against him #we end ep 3 with him being punched by Fadel and manipulated by Kant - the 2 people that are the most important to his character atm #when he's arguably literally done the LEAST actually bad stuff (ahem once again: actual murder and manipulation that could be lethal!!)#but the things he's done are relatable to the average person and THATS why everyone seems to be so angry at him #we signed up for assassins and murder and lying but i guess the trailer didn't exactly prepare us for normal everyday thoughtless mocking #but that doesn't give us a good reason to dismiss Style the way so many seem eager to do #the heart killers #the heart killers the series #style sattawat #dunk natachai #fadelstyle #thk meta #style meta #hui talks thk #hui talks thai bl

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zvahlne · 18 days ago

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thoughts on dante ? (im sooo normal about him i swear)

I LOVE DANTE I LOVE DANTE I LOVE DANTE i'm so happy you asked about dante. i am also so incredibly normal about dante. i have been sincerely hoping someone would ask me about dante so i can talk about this!!!!!

thoughts on dante CAN be summarized by twilight sparkle's "B.B.B.F.F." from friendship is magic.... my big brother best friend forever <3333

...but more under the cut! i yapped but i can't bear to trim it. love dante too much. (surprise down there though for those brave souls who continue...)

i actually SUPER SUPER SUPER love dante because my darling aphmau oc was/is his little sister (and gene's of course!). not at first; it happened super impulsively on a hypixel rp because she had blue hair and other people were doing it (making their ocs canon characters' siblings). she had dark blue hair, dante had blue hair, gene had black... it was the obvious conclusion for a group of 10 year olds.

but it was so formative for me that i can't look at dante (or gene!) without thinking "my big brother!!" to this day. the wave of love and comfort that washes over me when i see dante is. man. i get so overjoyed when i see other people posting about him because he's so lovely and he's my big brother and he deserves all the posts in the world frfr I LOVE YOU DANTE WAUGH

fun fact: i almost named this blog "dantes-little-sister" in honor of that oc (and how much i adore dante)! zvahlne won because it was shorter, mostly. ...also i think it looks cool.

and now. okay i really hate to say this considering The Circumstances. the Situations. the Lore. but i wish i REMEMBERED more about dante 😭😭 it's been so long since i've watched stuff where he was a focus, a lot of the details are fuzzy now!!

i love love love dante though. mystreet dante especially, even though they definitely. i understand some things were lost in translation. just a couple. uh. LMAO. but i can't ever hate him; he's my big brother! i was a mystreet kid first, so that dante was the one i first latched onto. i CAN recognize the character assassination that happened but also you must understand. that is my big brother. can't hate him.

i'm so so so so so excited to get back to him in my rewatching, i miss him SO MUCH. even when i wasn't watching aphmau for a few years, i thought of him a lot!

i remember the first time i watched MCD, the timeskip was utterly devastating to me and he ended up being the biggest reason why (WHICH GENUINELY SHOCKED ME AT THE TIME). i really felt like i had missed out on my big brother's life. and i KNEW he was a minecraft character, but seeing him so much older than the last time i had seen him in an INSTANT? FUCKED ME UP!!! it was such a gut punch for me. i felt like i had lost so much time with him. he was so old....... MY BIG BROTHER...... :(((

i have a feeling i am going to get gut punched again lmao (I'M TEARING UP THINKING ABOUT IT RIGHT NOW??? brain, i'm telling you, he's blocks..... /lh)

man. i love dante. i think he's so great. he lives in my heart forever and always will. my bbbff!!!!!

(i'm so serious about the bbbff thing i've been calling him that for almost a decade now)

(a lot of these feelings can be echoed for gene, buuuuut with more. uh. baggage??? You Know How Gene Is. it's complicated. dante is all love and sunshine and joy and comfort though<3 mystreet gene is pretty chill, i even wrote a fic with him and the mentioned oc semi-recently lmao)

um. to make up for no real intellectual dante thoughts at this time, oops all weeping, please take this warmup i did of him a while ago (s1 mcd dante! he knocked you over 🩵)

#i put my dante bracelet on to write this post! i also cried writing this post.#never ask me about dante. because i will talk about dante.#zvahlne answers #aphmau dante #mcd dante #mystreet dante #i feel too silly to put this in the main tags but i'll put it in dante's<3 #i still can't believe he doesn't have a last name are you kidding #this was devastating to me like hey my oc needs a last name jess. help girl.#zvhalne art #i guess... i guess i add that... it's in there...

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emily-crystal · 3 months ago

Text

Characters Information

Identities Evolved AU

I will edit and add more to this post later after published so please note that it's not the full post yet.

A lot of important parts are completely different from the originals so please keep that in mind.

Bright (Dream)

Birthday: 25th of December

Designs: before AO, present, variation

Bright has a petite appearance, 156cm tall, which is the result of 500 years of unconsciousness and childhood anorexia, he's physically weak.

He used to live an aristocratic and discipline lifestyle therefore his behavior is unconsciously elegant.

Bright has a shy, cowardly personality. He is quite introverted and afraid of crowded places. He often thinks too much, hallucinates and worries himself that even his close ones seem concerned.

To everyone, he is considered a genius. People let him take the leadership role most of the time even when the group has no clear hierarchy of roles. With that being said, he is quite stubborn when it comes to listening to other people's advice, especially if they have opinions that are contrary to his.

Bright's emotional aura is very weak, hardly even exists, only slightly affecting people when he has strong emotions.

Combat reference:

Bright does use the bow, the bow is what Nim left behind, only Bright and Midnight can use it. It can transform into any weapon that suits the user best, but the user is not capable of choosing what weapon.

Bright prefers stick-fighting because Bright would have to put a lot of effort to summon one arrow. He has to draw 'divine' blue arrows from his chest, it takes a lot of energy.

Most of Bright's moves are defensive and deal light damage. He almost completely avoids fighting.

Relationship:

Midnight: older twin brother, enemy

Cross: lover (cohabit)

Blue: close friend

Ink: ex-lover, friend

Error: (friendly) neutral

Killer: enemy

Murder: enemy

Horror: enemy

Midnight (Nightmare)

Birthday: 25th of December

Designs: before AO, present, variation

Midnight is tall in appearance, 192cm tall, he can choose his height, taller or shorter. So as he gets weaker he will gradually shrink, the minimum height he can reach is 160cm, which is his "real height".

Like Bright, he used to live an aristocratic and discipline lifestyle therefore his behavior is unconsciously elegant.

Midnight, before and after the Apple Occasion, is only one person, there's no parasite.

The area around Midnight's right eye was severely damaged, however his right eye still had the ability to see, he just chose to cover it up, as a result, he has a blind spot.

Midnight is very picky and meticulous. Even the most accomplished of his minions are not given leniency when it comes to small mistakes.

Combat reference

Midnight hardly ever engages in direct combat.

Relationship

Bright: younger twin brother, enemy

Killer: lover (unpublic), subordinate

Murder: subordinate

Horror: subordinate

Cross: ex-subordinate, enemy

Blue: enemy

Ink: neutral

Error: ex-coworker, neutral

Killer

Birthday: 14th of May

Designs: present, variation

Sans and Chara's souls and minds merged, "Killer" is neither Sans nor Chara. The consciousness of two, merged together, never could remain.

Killer is 164cm tall, quite short compared to the other members so he often wears high heels to make the team look more balanced, but not too high because he still has to jump and run a lot.

Killer is impulsively expressive that either others are concerned or uncomfortable. He acts childish with lots of energy and often does unnecessary things, he likes to anger others by his behaviors.

With such strong emotional expressions, according to Midnight's assessment, he is the one who radiates the most negative energy compared to others.

Combat reference

Killer is the convergence of a highly skilled assassin, fast and flexible to ambush opponents. Yet, when in a battle that requires high physical strength, or with a gladiator-type opponent, he will be at disadvantages.

He mostly uses knives but would not refuse to use something else when needed. These knives are exclusive designed for him.

He can conjure up a red knife, larger than a normal knife (not giant). While doing this he will vomit hate liquid and it takes a lot of streghth, but he can slash from a distance.

Relationships

Midnight: lover (unpublic), superior

Murder: subordinate

Horror: subordinate

Cross: ex-subordinate, enemy

Error: neutral

Ink: neutral

Bright: enemy

Blue: enemy

Cross

Birthday: 14th of October

Designs: before NW, present, variation

Cross is 180cm tall, a pretty good height to be recruited into the royal knights back then.

He still has scars on his face. XChara has been unconsciously dead since the beginning of the Nominal War.

Cross is a pretty cheerful, carefree person. He has every characteristics of an excellent soldier. He doesn't think too much about strategies, but it doesn't mean that he doesn't understand them.

While still working under Midnight, Midnight highly regarded him, he was the only one allowed to make a deal with Midnight when joining.

Combat reference

Cross is a melee fighter, often performs close range attacks that deal high damage. He is well-rounded in both direct combat and tactical aspects.

Cross (still) uses a giant knife as his weapon (or a heavy sword/claymore, however you want to call it).

Relationships

Bright: lover (cohabit)

Blue: friend

Ink: ex-friend, (rivaly) neutral

Error: neutral

Midnight: ex-superior, enemy

Killer: ex-superior, enemy

Dust: ex-coworker, enemy

Horror: ex-coworker, enemy

Murder (Dust)

Birthday: 14th of February

Designs: present, variation

/updating/

Combat reference

/updating/

Relationships

Midnight: superior

Killer: superior

Horror: co-worker

Cross: ex-coworker, enemy

Bright: enemy

Blue: enemy

Ink: seemly neutral

Error: neutral

Horror

Birthday: 8th of August

Designs: present, variation

/updating/

Combat reference

/updating/

Relationships

Midnight: superior

Killer: superior

Murder: coworker

Cross: ex-coworker, enemy

Bright: enemy

Blue: enemy

Ink: neutral

Error: neutral

Ink

Birthday: 19th of April

Designs: present, variation

Ink must drink colored ink to feel emotions. However, it is pretty strong and often makes him over-excited and overreact. So he found a way to dilute the colors before drinking it. Because he drank the diluted colors, Ink was much calmer. His eyes do not change their symbols anymore, only their colors.

But being calmer also means he's more heartless, people need emotions to empathize, Ink has to find a way to get emotions, yet he dilutes them.

Ink is quite straightforward about his thoughts, but he doesn't mind hiding some things to achieve his goals. Ink is neutral to most people, but he won't hesitate to fight others, even friends when his interests are at stake.

Ink is forgetful but he has learned to take better notes and organize himself.

Combat reference

/updating/

Relationships

Bright: ex-lover, friend

Blue: friend

Error: friend? enemy? fwb?

Midnight: neutral

Killer: neutral

Dust: neutral

Horror: neutral

Error

Birthday: 8th of April

Blue/Swap

Birthday: 23th of February

/updating/

#identities evolved #ie au #undertale #undertale multiverse #undertale alternate universe #undertale au #underverse #nightmare sans #dream sans #killer sans #nightkiller #cross sans #dreamtale #ink sans #inktale #ink #errortale #error sans

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abominable-space-they · 8 months ago

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A modern LuLaw Au, where Zoro is a huge hot thriller action movie actor. He does everything from historical magical swordmaster movies to modern non-stop suspensful spy chase films

Bepo is also a super famous actor but of the opposite variety. He came up in theater, is the loveable funny dad in family movies, comedic gay uncle in summer block buster type movies, and maybe the love interest in very first date mid market fluffy first date movies marketed to divorced moms and bisexual geeks. He's like Andrew Garfield + Nathan Foad + Harvey Guillén

Perfect in other words

They get teamed up for a wacky odd couple action comedy about an Assassin who has to find his dead lover's estranged brother. The estranged brother is a librarian who speaks 13 languages. They have to go on the run together to find a package that has evidence that can clear Zoro's name.

The movie is a huge hit. At the premiere after party both Zoro and Bepo bring all their best friends.

Both of their best friend groups consist of a motley crew of loveable weirdos

Bepo begs Law to come to the after party with him. It's his biggest commercially successful film to date and a huge accomplishment. It will open up all new avenues in being able to try something different besides the quirky comedic relief. He's elated... and a little overwhelmed. So of course, eventually Law relents.

He was always going to, they both knew it. Law just had to put up a fuss first, lest people start getting ideas about how much of a push over he might be

He's secretly a giant pushover, for a particular kind of chaos... The kind that drags him kicking and screaming into having a good time despite himself, but he always denies it

Law is there for maybe an hour before he's just sick of all of the loud smiling fake crowd. Overwhelmed, he grabs a few beers, and a vape off of one of the long tables full of party favors and escapes to the most out of the way unpopulated balcony he can find.

A balcony where the only other inhabitant is a free range Luffy perched on a railing like a little flip flops and sun hat wearing gargoyle.

Luffy it turns out, wasn't overwhelmed by crowds, but he couldn't stand how fake everyone was, Zoro's manager (Nami obviously) threatened to whoop his ass personally if he made Zoro look bad by getting into anymore celebrity fist fights or accidentally on purpose calling some mega star out on their bullshit

Law is despite himself charmed by Luffy's directness and lack of patience for anything fake ever.

They end up splitting the beer and the vape and hanging out talking till long after most everyone else had already left.

When they finally remember other people exist, it's coming up on dawn and the caterers are trying to politely get them to leave. Both their friend groups have long since left just assuming they both left without telling anyone when they couldn't find them.

In the cold light of predawn Law is a little embarrassed about getting buzzed and staying up till dawn at a Hollywood function with some pretty boy he's never met before.

Luffy is if course unruffled by all of that and drags Law to breakfast with him. He decided that since they were already on their own, there was no real reason to rush off in opposite directions. He thinks all Law's embarrassed bluster is very funny and cute.

And anyway, he knew a place they could eat near by.

Luffy drags Law to the Baratie of all places. Law is so flustered he listened to this hot unstoppable ball of bouncing charisma, he makes sure to point out why the Baratie on impulse at dawn was a terrible plan:

1) they couldn't just walk into to the Baratie dressed for last night's party, from last night's party. This restaurant was much to fancy for that.

2) the Baratie was booked for months in advance unless you were extremely well connected. It was extremely popular with all the right people (and plenty of the wrong ones too)

3) The Baratie was not now, nor had it ever been open for breakfast, it was a five star restaurant not an all night diner!!!

Luffy, shrugs super casualty, beaming mischievous joy at him

"I guess I'm well connected then Torao. It'll work out fine. Come on, it'll be fun"

Law follows him swearing to himself he's only curious what Luffy thinks he can do to get in

Really

When they get their Luffy bangs on the back employee's entrance. An extremely frazzled and probably a little hung over Sanji opens the door

Luffy beams at his friend

"Sanji! I'm starving! We need meat!!"

Sanji was prepping for opening, he scowls at his friend who went missing the night before without telling anyone where he was going again

"... Luffy! Yah! What are you doing here? Where did you go last night? What are you doing with pop rock diva Donquixote Doflamingo's nephew? Damn... You're hungry? Come on in, I have some meats left over from last night's dinner. I can make you guys some breakfast bowls or something."

Sanji knows all the society players and knows exactly who Trafalgar D. water Law is even if Luffy doesn't

Luffy bounces happily through the door.

"Thanks Sanj! What do you mean what am I doing here? I'm hungry! We need meat! We didn't go anywhere. You guys left without me. It's ok, don't feel bad. Lala and I were talking. He's real cool. I think he saved my life. I was considering throwing myself off the balcony in a final act of self sacrifice so I didn't mess up Zoro's party. But then there's Law, with beer, a vape, and my still beating heart in his tattooed hands like the drums of liberation! I could feel the freedom! So we hung out and talked about neat stuff. Then the people with all the shiny trays didn't have any more food left which is sad Sanji. No food. They just asked us to leave, so of course we came here bc we're hungry. I don't know anything about Mingy's nephew or whatever. Don't bring that pink jerk into this. I'm still sad mad from when Crocodad used to bring him to every family gathering. Mingo bahhhh. Lala and I are HUNGRY. Look how pale he is Sanji. We need to eat!"

"I do not feel bad we left you Luffy. You disappeared!"

"Don't be silly Sanji. We were right there"

Sanji gives up trying to talk sense into one of his best friends at this hellish hour. Settling instead on staring silent daggers at Law. Luffy might not know any shame but most everyone else did. Sanji isn't sure what's going on but he's pretty sure he doesn't trust any relative of that insufferable smug bastard Doflamingo.

Law shrugs loose and indifferent

"He's right, we were right there... I don't associate with my uncle, I don't like or trust him any more then you do."

Sanji, nods, he understands not associating with the family you can't quite escape. Still

Raising one gracefully manicured eye brow, Sanji can't help but ask

"LaLa though?"

Luffy leaps into the air, flailing his arms and legs like a particularly ecstatic starfish.

"Yes! Lala! Oh or Tora-ora-oh? Torao?"

Law, looks away, trying to hide the surprising way the nicknames make him blush. He mumbles, embarrassed

"I gave up asking him to stop two hours ago. Maybe if I ignore it he'll get bored"

Sanji absolutely clocking the vibes, snorts a rueful laugh.

"Yeah good luck with that, well don't just lurk by the walk ins Luffy. Take your man to the family table. I'll get you guys all that meat"

Law, spends the next couple minutes in embarrassed silent processing before he comes back around to what Luffy said about Doffy. Like, he knows him because of Crocodile?

"Wait Luffy, did you just call the infamous Hollywood fixer Sir Crocodile, Crocodad?"

Luffy is busy craning his neck towards the kitchen, he crinkles his nose in playful confusion at Law

"Huh? Oh yeah. I have a lot of dads"

Law scoffs,

"That doesn't really explain anything."

Luffy let's his head fall sideways, smiling in thoughtful distraction

"Oh hey! Yeah! I can introduce you to my dads! It'll be so cool! Mihawk will love you I can already tell. Buggy will say he hates you but he won't really hate you. Mihawk says being an utter bastard is Buggy dad's primary love language”

That makes Law huff a small dry laugh

"Is that where you got it from?"

He meant it in a teasing way and for a split second worried that he'd gone to far. People were always telling him his sense of humor was to sharp, to acidic.

Like a surgeon, cutting to the quick of a person

But Luffy only stares at him owlishly, thinking earnestly about the question

"... Oh yeah. Probably. Next time I'm over I'll tell Buggy Dad that. He'll be so happy he'll cry about it. It'll be so cool. Then Shanks will think he's in trouble again and he'll be so relieved the crying's not his fault this time that he'll love you extra. Probably buy you a yacht or something in thanks for getting him out of the dog house this week. You'd look good on a yacht Lala... Or maybe a submarine, a fancy science one not those weird tin cans billionaires keep committing elaborate suicide in"

"I don't need a yacht... a submarine might be cool. A sciencey one like you said. I don't know, no I'm not thinking about that. Luffy, you just name dropped the French Designer single handedly responsible for bringing back gothic romance in high fashion, arguably the most beloved and successful mainstream actor of his generation, and the grand line's Banksy. I know this because my friend Bepo is old college buddies with one of his assistants. Is there anyone you don't know?"

"I don't know everyone. I don't know your friend Bepo yet even though he did a movie with my bestfriend. I don't know who his friend is either"

"Uh Richie, big dude, loves meat almost as much of you, nice enough. He has a giant tattoo of a green lion on his back... He's probably a furry, most Bepo's friends are... but we never talked about it to confirm it. Not a big deal either way..."

"OH YEAH RICHIE! I know him!"

"see? You know everyone"

"You're The Celestial Diva Demon Doflamingo's nephew"

Law sighs deeply

"I was hoping you didn't catch that"

Giggling Luffy shakes his head

"Shihihihihi I catch things fine, I'm flexible... I understand. I understood. Mingy doesn't have anything to do with me bringing you to my family. So it doesn't matter to me if he's your uncle Torao"

"Oh... I... Luffy... Thanks"

Luffy laughs

"Anyways, I didn't know you before but now I do and I'm glad I do. You're really fun Lala. I love fun"

Law swallows thickly, he feels called to being honest, vulnerable even. He doesn't know why exactly but it feels like Luffy will understand the importance of his saying anything at all. He clears his throat

"I'm... I can't believe I'm saying this but... I'm... not mad about it either. Usually people in this god awful town only want to talk to me because I'm the son of famous post modern surrealist painter Rosinante Corazón or because I'm Doflamingo's nephew... Fuck It's exhausting, being expected to constantly perform precious little society Prince every day for their gratification. I love my dad but I hate the looks and the judgement and the expectations for me to follow in their footsteps"

Luffy's eyes are bottomless pools of deep sepia understanding. He nods, emphatic.

"Yeah I get that. Hey, that's why I come here and eat lots of meat! Sanji's dad always yells at me with his big voice and tall hat like, I DON'T CARE WHO'S DAMN BOY YOU ARE. LET ALL SIX OF 'EM COME IN HERE AND MAKE A SCENE. I WAS OUT IN THOSE STREETS WHEN THEY WERE JUST A LITTLE TWINKLE IN THEIR DADDY'S EYES. I'M NOT SCARED OF ANY OF 'EM, NOT SCARED OF YOUR GRANDPAPPY EITHER. LET 'EM COME. YOU COME IN HERE ACTING LIKE AN ANIMAL AND TRASH MY KITCHEN. I'LL PUT YOU ON A LEASH! MAKE EGGPLANT SOLVE HIS OWN STRAW HAT SHAPED PROBLEMS!! It's real great. He loves Sanji so much and he doesn't take any crap from anyone. Sanji wants to be just like him when he grows up"

Thankfully Law is saved from acknowledging how seen, understood, and appreciated Luffy makes him feel by Sanji coming back with food.

Luffy immediately forgets anything that doesn't involve shoveling breakfast steak into his face

Later, Luffy would somehow convince Law to come back to his apartment, where they would fall asleep on the couch together watching Zoro's movies (the only DVD's they had in the house)

Luffy falls asleep chattering about pokemon and beetle battles and all his friends.

It's nice

Really nice. The sort of nice he kinda hopes continues

Law is almost asleep himself when his phone buzzes.

The screen lights up.

It's Bepo.

He totally forgot to text Bepo and let him know that he was ok.

Law wiggles a hand free and arduously texts Bepo back

-Phone mostly dead

-I'm ok

-Met someone...

The response was immediate:

-YOU WHAT?!

-Later Bep. I promise I'll explain. I'm gonna sleep now

-You're sleeping?! Oh you're down bad. Ok ok. I love you but boss please don't forget next time

-Promise Bep

With that taken care of and no witnesses to see him being quite so soft, Law tugs the sleeping Luffy even closer, pulled in close under his chin. He pressed his face into Luffy's mess of dark Auburn curls. For some reason Luffy smelled like sea salt and mesquite smoke. It made Law smile.

He whispered into the top of Luffy's head.

"You just blow into my life with your ridiculous hat and your insatiable appetite. You're're gonna be the death of me Captain Strawhat"

Luffy grumbled sleepily, nuzzling further into Law's chest.

"Torao worries to much. It'll be so much fun, like breakfast. I'm right. Fight me."

Somehow reassured Law grumbled some sort of acknowledgement and was shockingly, soon, fast asleep.

Luffy made such a cuddly weighted blanket. He could get used this

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catofadifferentcolor · 3 months ago

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Terrible Fic Idea #97: DA:TV, but make it Gilmore Girls

If there's two things I walked away from Dragon Age: The Veilguard with, it's 1) a never-ending love for the Lucanis x Crow!Rook romance, and 2) a never-ending love for Viago de Riva.

There are a whole host of fics where Viago, willingly or unwillingly, acts a parental figure for Crow!Rook. But I, being me, couldn't help but wonder what if Viago was Rook's biological parent?

Or: what if Rook was the bloodline heir of the Fifth Talon?

aka The Shadow of Your Heart fic

Just imagine it:

As part of their training, fledglings of House de Riva are sent to seduce a target when they are 16 years old.

Viago's target is the daughter of a well-to-do merchant and his elven mistress who lives in a manse outside of Salle by the name of Dionisia Vitale. He finds the woman tolerable enough company, but is deeply uncomfortable letting anyone touch him in such a way, and after completing his task leaves her with the impression that things had been so awkward between them because he prefers the company of men.

So it is a surprise when Viago receives a message from Dionisia six months later asking to meet... and even more of a surprise to find her heavily pregnant. ("All children of mine are bound to the Crows," he tells her, feeling an odd moment of sympathy for his father. Viago had brewed the potion to inhibit his fertility himself. Obviously the formulation is ineffective on his bloodline... "Then they will have a profession, at least," Dionisia quips in that charming way of hers that might have made him love her, if he thought he could love anyone at all. "All that I ask is that they know you, and once they begin their training they're allowed to know me still.")

And so Zoraida de Riva is born three months later, on the last warm day of the year 9:31, shortly after the end of the Fifth Blight.

Zoraida's childhood is as normal as it can be having a career-driven assassin for a father and a loving, if often physically distant, elf-blooded mother.

Zoraida is halfway through her training when Viago rises to the rank of Fifth Talon, violently deposing his predecessor - in part because of her plans to install Viago as a puppet king in place of Fulgeno II and use Zoraida to keep him in line. But this changes very little. If anything, the bloodline heir of the house is treated worse by their trainers in the attempt to prepare them for anything and everything Thedas might throw at them.

Otherwise, canon proceeds apace, with Viago struggling to balance being a father with his political ambitions, and Zoraida putting an unholy amount of pressure on herself to live up to her father's reputation. She becomes a fully-fledged Crow at age eighteen (never having been sent to seduce anyone, Viago not wanting to risk becoming a grandfather at 32) and for a while all goes well...

...until Zoraida decides to impulsively rescue a group of captives from Antaam slavers, and Viago has to send her away on a long contract outside of Antiva until tempers calm down.

Over the course of her travels with Varric, Zoraida becomes Rook, and gains a dwarven story-telling uncle and a dwarven best friend who's neither intimidated by her ancestry or looking to use her connections to get ahead. Rook knows this contract is meant to be a punishment, but it might be the best thing to ever happen to her.

When Neve suggests they hire a specialist to deal with the gods, Rook can't help but make a face. Lucanis Dellamorte may be the mage killer they need, but he's still on the list of people Viago suggested she get close to growing up (and which Rook completely ignored, because she's willing to do a lot for her father, but hanging out with his boss' grandkids isn't one of them).

Then she meets Lucanis and he's hot and competent and kind - and Rook just about has a mental breakdown about pursuing him, because it's one thing to disappoint Viago, but it's another thing entirely to prove him right and have to live with his smug face every day for the rest of her life.

Meanwhile, Lucanis does not immediately realize Rook is the latest alias for La Princesa de la Casa de Riva, but has an arc of worrying if she's using him to get ahead in addition to his canon arc of unwilling possession and year of torture before he puts the pieces together. They eventually get their act together, but there's an additional layer of everyone in our lives wanted us to get together; are we acting on our own desires or in response to theirs? atop of everything else.

The Veilguard succeeds in killing the gods, stopping the Blight, and trapping Solas in the Fade, but that's largely secondary to the interpersonal drama playing out between missions.

This should be compounded by the fact that none of the other companions are aware of the fact that Viago is Rook's father. There should be complex theories involving intersecting love triangles ripped straight from Bellara's serials, which Rook and Teia do their best to encourage before the game is eventually given away by a very confused fledgling who was not expecting to be set upon by two very powerful mages and a fire-breathing Qunari looking for gossip.

(Even Lucanis is pulled into the game, treating it as another one of the training exercises Caterina used to put them through, and at one point has Taash convinced that Viago and Rook are half-siblings, while simultaneously having Bellara convinced that Rook and Teia are half-siblings who've fought over Viago's affections since they were teenagers.)

Additionally, Illario's plot line should be played up for maximum drama, in which he genuinely tries to seduce Rook to his side, sensing that her backing would serve him better as First Talon than Zara's. (He should give it his all, but be stymied by the fact that Rook is just as much of a demisexual as his cousin is, and not quite know what to do with someone who values their House more than their own personal ambition.)

Bonuses include:

Rook's mother being alive and in the background throughout, happily selling cheese across Northern Thedas and doing her best to cultivate drama on her daughter's behalf. Her home on the outskirts of Salle acts as a second HQ for the Veilguard, and she's deeply involved in pulling Rook out of the Fade prison.

Teia being the ultimate stepmom, despite the fact she refuses to admit she's old enough to be anyone's mother.

About twice as many quests involving the Antaam invasion and Illario's attempt to take over the leadership of the Crows.

All the scenes of Viago being parental just off screen. He's not the best father and his idea of father-daughter bonding tends to involve more poisons than most people are comfortable with, but he tries and Rook wouldn't change him for another.

Navigating what it means for the future Fifth Talon of rising House marrying the First Talon of a dying House (while the Seventh Talon of another rising House is waiting for the current Fifth Talon of a rising House to pull himself together and propose to her already).

And that's all I have. I feel like there should really be more, but basically it's just all the things I love about Viago and Rook being found family being slightly altered so that Viago is Rook's ill-equipped but trying his best teen father. As always, feel free to adopt, just link back if you do anything with it.

More DA Ideas | More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #da:tv #viago de riva #dragon age rook #lucanis x rook #teia x viago #house de riva #house dellamorte #family drama #antivan crows #crow rook #teia cantori #lucanis dellamorte #female rook #rogue rook #human rook

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primeofprimes115 · 11 months ago

Text

Scoring Her Heart of Steel - Supergirl x Male Reader

Contains: Fluff 🥰

Living the life in shadow wasn't easy, especially when having special abilities when you couldn't understand them at first, unable to find the right person to help you discover them and even control them, fire, ice and even smoke. Recently learning to use solar magic to heal wounds and himself too.

That person was Y/N, he was but a child when finding out that his late father contained abilities which carried over to Y/N himself.

He came from a family of an old clan, a clan that pretty much no longer existed but only was told in stories of the Old Histories, his ancestors before him were from this old clan.

But since then? He found someone who could help him, that being Liang who possessed abilities much like Y/N's.

He was part of the Earth Defense Squadron, a group of individuals who deal with criminals, thugs and bigger threats using their set of skills and abilities to protect their planet, and even the Sol System.

Y/N was but 16 when he joined, now? He is at least 20 years old, he's been a member for four years now and hasn't regretted joining since.

Some kill him "Enenra" for his smoke magic, "The Cold Assassin" for ice, "Pyro" or "Mr Impulsive" for his fire (though the last one is much of an insult to him). But he calls himself Mancer, given his ability to use fire, solar, ice and smoke at the same time. He has since mastered them all, Solar magic is his newest addition to his abilities. His friends call him Multitasker anyways.

As of this moment? They're currently on the hunt for a convicted criminal they've been hunting down for a while now, responsible for almost causing a world wide war through manipulation and sorcery, if there was one word Y/N would describe him as? He'd call him the Devil's Sorcerer, given his background, he's lived for a very long time.

He has a vision of making a perfect world, which he'd make after everything is asunder, he sees humanity's flaws and wants to perfect them... But when that couldn't work and failed? He decided to move onto another target. Another Earth to be exact.

An Earth where it also had Heroes and Villains, but not like the ones that the sorcerer knew, he began scheming, manipulating others for his own gain.

But it wasn't long, till he'd be found by a group of Heroes from his Earth, and Mancer was with them to finally bring him to justice, their way.

But knowing the Heroes of this Earth? Mancer's leader knew the Heroes wouldn't allow them.

The little goose chase had gone on long enough, Mancer and the others had finally brought down the Sorcerer's forces and himself included, as the group surrounds him and picks him up. Liang stood in front of him as he scolds him.

"Alatar Omrin, for too long you have avoided justice, committed many atrocities of both our Earth and this one-"

"Save me your lecture Liang, Your voice has already bored me" Omrin snarked, earning a punch from Xalex, the Windbender.

"Got any other comments to share Sorcerer? I'd be glad to keep this up!" Xalex smirked.

"Xalex..." Liang glared right at him, forcing him to stand down.

"Sorry, boss" Xalex chuckled nervously.

"Yes, listen to him, you don't want a battered up, captive don't you? After all, you're the one who always seems to screw up" Omrin tried antagonizing Xalex which almost worked... if it weren't for Mancer.

"Quiet Sorcerer or I'm gonna shut you up myself by gagging you" Y/N threatened to cover Omrin's mouth with his ice, preventing him to speak, Omrin did as asked and closed his mouth.

Not even another word came out.

"Damn, that was cold" a feminine voice spoke behind him, his best friend, Satine who was an Earthbender.

"Enough with the puns Sati" Y/N chuckled.

"Alright, let's get out of here before we're stopped" Liang ordered.

The group began to walk out of the area, Xalex forced Omrin to move, even Satine joined in to help Xalex too.

But... Like traditional villains do... They'd run their mouths until someone would do something about it.

"Now we won't hear his bickering" Y/N sighed with relief, icing his mouth up to cover it, preventing Omrin to speak and antagonize Liang and the group further, Liang also sighed of relief too.

For at least the five minutes that went past, some suspense began to build up between everyone.

"Is it just me or does it feel like we're being watched?" Satine asked with suspicion in her question, whispering it to her allies.

"Well, we're in a world of different Heroes which most of em are aliens and meta-humans, ones that have enhanced hearing, vision, speed and all that. Especially ones that can fly also? I do agree... We might be being watched right now ~" Y/N answered her question - "Which to be truthful, this Earth does feel a little more safer but more dangerous than ours... Not that I'm complaining or anything" he shared his thoughts of the current Earth they're on.

"I do gotta admit... The female Heroes look fine if you ask me" Xalex spoke his mind.

"In which way do you refine that?" Satine asked, narrowing her eyes toward him.

"Well... I'm saying most of em look a little hot. Like. c'mon?" he boasted before he could tell Satine looked at him funny, frowning her face toward him. The two were in a relationship as it is - "Don't even give me that look Satine, I can sense it... At least back me up here Multitasker" Xalex requested for help, a chuckle escaped Y/N.

"I'd prefer to be more respectful to women and you know that... But yes, I do admit that red caped blonde girl has somehow interested me in the short time we've been here, I've heard about the many things she's accomplished on Earth and the fact she's a living and breathing Kryptonian? I'd like to meet her one day, so many questions I want to ask her or the other Kryptonians for that matter" Y/N replied, it sounded as if he fanboyed over this caped young woman as Xalex began smirking in a teasing matter.

"Ohh? Sounds like someone's a fan of one of the female Heroes" he teased.

"Or maybe he's already crushing on this caped woman, Supergirl was her name right?" Satine joined in with the teasing, noticing Y/N began to blush with embarrassment.

"Wh-What? *nervous laugh* I have no idea what you're talking about" he tried to hide his blush, but his face was a bright red.

"C'mon Y/N! It's normal to have a crush on someone, even if it's a superpowered woman" Xalex smiles, before looking at Satine, to which she smiled back at him, knowing he referred to her of what he said.

"Yeah... I guess it can be normal... Right?" Y/N asked loudly, wondering that himself.

It was a shame he didn't exactly have a proper childhood, pulled out of school early due to him being a hazardous threat among others, his mother had to raise him by quitting her job, family members would often help around too to keep Y/N and his mother going until she'd find someone, but instead? He found someone first, that being Liang.

"It is normal to have some sort of feeling toward another person, Mancer ~" Liang joined in after listening to his comrade's conversation, sharing his view on feelings too - "Even if you haven't met them yet which I do hope to keep it that way, who knows what Omrin has told them. To them? We could be the enemy if he hasn't already told them about us, and it might take a lot of convincing to show that we aren't the enemy. However, keep your guard up. We don't know who'll show up to stop us" Liang ordered as everyone agreed, keeping their focus on every direction to look for anything suspicious.

As moments went by, more walking continued to the main extraction zone where the portal to their world would work, more suspicion filled the air around them.

Unbeknownst to the group escorting their captive, someone was indeed watching, the son of the Red Caped Wonder and a Reporter in Metropolis who would be soon joined with two others.

That included his father.

"I don't like this... I'm sure trouble is gonna find us soon" Xalex spoke with worry, his hand eagerly over the hilt of his Katana.

"Keep your eyes peeled, we're almost at the extraction zone" Liang reminded his comrades, his hand itching toward his elemental infused holstered guns.

"It's too quiet, and btw? Who would want Omrin anyway?" Satine asked Liang.

"That won't matter, he will answer for his crimes on our Earth, he won't answer to -"

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen, your captive..." a new voice suddenly interrupted the group. A man's voice from the sky above as they all looked up in front of them as three people began to descend. two male, 1 female. All wearing the same colors, the female wore a long red skirt and red high knee boots while the men wore pants with their respective boots, the older one wore red briefs with his, with a cape and that symbol on their suits...The big red and yellow S.

"...Will answer to us" Superman spoke as if he was not in the mood, he sounded... Angry almost but serious. He was joined up with Superboy who was his son and his cousin... Supergirl.

(Aka... Your little crush)

The three Supers landed on the ground in front of them, at least 7 feet away to confront Liang and his group. Satine and Xalex were startled by their sudden arrival as Liang frowned upon seeing them.

However... Y/N's eyes were laser focused on the red caped blondie, Supergirl. He never seen her up close before... Seeing a very strong and beautiful woman in front of his eyes had him thinking so, he couldn't help it. However, he was able to his eyes away from her for a few moments.

"Shit... I knew we were being watched! I freaking called it!" Satine hissed with annoyance, her hand itching to make a move but felt hesitant to do so, unless they attacked first.

"Let me do the talking and Y/N, if we are to engage in conflict, do not use your solar abilities, it's what empowers them" Liang ordered before stepping forward a little - "I am Liang, Master of Elemental Magic, Protector of Earth. We only ask if you let us continue on our way back home, the extraction zone is not far" he asked politely.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, your captive needs to answer for his crimes, and we're taking him to Stryker Island for questioning. Hand him over and you may proceed back home" Superman denied to allow them to continue, without handing over their captive.

This seemed to make Liang unsatisfied, he'd hope they'd understand, but clearly... They wouldn't.

"And he's told us a lot about you. How you're not to be trusted, we thought you were working for him but clearly not... So you must be bringing him in for execution which we cannot allow" Superboy spoke, he was young still but was learning.

"What?! You can't be the judge of that! And this isn't your situation, it's ours!" Xalex raised his voice with annoyance rising in his attitude.

"Do you have any idea what that man has done? He almost killed half of the Justice League that tried to stop him, including my cousin ~" Supergirl spoke next, walking a little forward - "He needs to be brought in for justice"

"And you believe what this Sorcerer said to you all? That we execute criminals? We're nothing like that!" Satine backed up her group.

"Hand him over to us, we can do this the easy way..." Superboy offered which his father slightly looked at his son for a moment, knowing that's not the way he'd put it lightly.

"Or the hard way ~" Supergirl issued the warning - "Please pick the easy way, we don't need to fight" Supergirl's face cringed, knowing her other choice of words wasn't the greatest to blurt out.

An intense few moments went pass as everyone went quiet, the sound of the gentle wind blew past as each individual stared each other down.

All of a sudden, a wave of strong wind hit Superboy, knocking him back as they all look at Xalex - "Uh... Haha.. Oops" he chuckled.

Superman had enough and instantly went for Xalex, only to be stopped by Liang who stood in front of him and caught his fist before a spark of electricity charged in his fist and he punched him away.

"Squadron! Protect the captive!" Liang called out as he ran for Superman, Xalex stood phased as Satine rushed up to him.

"You heard the man! Y/N! Watch over Omrin, we'll take care of Superman Junior over there"

"Good luck mate" Xalex teased before the two love birds rushed off.

"Wait guys! Ugh ~" Y/N groaned, being left alone with Omrin was something he didn't want. He took a look at Omrin who glared daggers at him, knowing he was visibly cussing him out for gagging him up with ice over his mouth. He looked down at his feet and without hesitation, froze his feet to keep him still - "Stay... Good boy" he teased, only hearing a muffled annoyed groan out from Omrin before he felt the presence of Supergirl.

He turned round to face her, his face slightly heating up a little, if it were a different situation, he'd be firing tons of questions at her already... But it wasn't that situation right now... This was a serious situation, resulting in fighting.

"I don't want to fight you" Y/N pleaded, disappointed he'd have to fight his quote on quote crush. But to his surprise, Supergirl looked disappointed too, sighing in return and shaking her head.

"I don't want to fight you too, but your friends chose the hard way, and I have my orders" she got in a fighting stance which seemed familiar to Y/N, his facial expression soon turned from disappointed to impressed, he already knew what stance she was in. She is pretty much Kryptonian military trained in a way.

"I also have my orders too, but be warned ~" he rather smirked afterwards, setting himself into a stance to show he's ready to engage in combat - "When there is smoke, there is fire" a mask appeared over his face which only covered his nose and mouth, a smoky aura appeared around him as ice went down his right arm while fire went down the other arm, showing off his three main abilities.

He finished showing off, before his hand reached out, gesturing a 'come here' toward Supergirl.

She rolls her eyes and instantly turns into a blur, within a second she was at his face.

He noticed how quick she was, and blocked her jab before blocking a few more, she was rather impressed but concerned if he was human or not, how could he manage to block her fast jabs?

Their fight continued after Y/N surprised her by incasing himself in ice, completely covering himself up before she looked on, she couldn't even detect his heartbeat anymore, before she sensed his heartbeat behind her and flipped him over as he tried surprise attacking her with a weapon made out of ice.

"Crap" he cussed at himself, Supergirl's fist came down at him like a speeding bullet but he managed to get out of the way as she punched the ground instead, disappearing like a smoke bomb before reappearing.

"You're quick" she complimented.

"Aw thank you! That's really kind of -" he was shut up by Supergirl firing her heat vision toward him, which seemed to hit him, causing him to groan in a little bit of pain. He felt the burn.

"But not as quick as me" she told herself in her head.

'This person, Y/N was it? He's no ordinary meta-human, even after a scan of him using my X-Ray vision, he definitely isn't new here, nor does any records show that he's of this planet... Or even this Earth. He is human but... He must be from a different Earth' Kara thought to herself.

"Oh yeah, we can play fire with fire alright" he smirked before a fire ball was fired toward her, Supergirl saw it coming and braced herself but the fire ended up hurting her, she hissed in pain as she remembered.

'Damn! Forgot his abilities are magic based, which we Kryptonians aren't fully immune to, unlike bullets and all sorts of things that aren't magic or anything like that' she said to herself - 'But he's thinking this all a game to him, the way he's showing off his abilities. Rao, he's probably going to make Damian Wayne run for his money at this point if he keeps this up'

Before she continued thinking within her head, she felt something wrap around her, a rope dart that had a fiery tip. She looked toward Mancer who had the other side of this rope dart, the rope made out of metal chains.

He yanked her toward him but that only seemed to move her a little before she braced herself, he tried yanking her again as she looked at him before rolling her eyes.

"Really?" she spoke one word with a unamused facial expression, before she began floating up, attempting to give him a ride of a lifetime.

But... She was yanked back down onto the ground with force, yelping. Thumping into the ground violently as the rope dart retracted and was thrown out toward her again, immediately recovering from being yanked into the ground and caught the tip of the dart with her hand, though it was slightly burning her hand.

"GET OVER HERE!" a devilish voice shouted out from her foe, yanking her toward him with inhuman strength, for a human to do this? She'd definitely had to be more careful.

Before she could even react, being flung toward him, he cocked his arm back and violently clotheslined her, which caused herself to do a backflip before landing on her stomach.

'Agh! He's mighty strong, and his powers? I need to be more careful, no more playing nice' she got back up before flying up and eying him down.

"Well that's unfair" she heard him mutter under his breath, throwing up the dart again, only this time she dodged it and fired her heat vision down at him.

He dodged her attack within a millisecond and threw a fireball at her, she dodged that too before rocketing herself toward him with her fists in front of her as if she was going to do a super speed flight punch, turning into a blur at this point.

"Look alive!" she flew into him, punching him square in the face with both her fists in front of her which seemed to send him backwards.

She braced herself and landed a few feet in front of him as she heard him groan out in a little pain, knowing she broke his jaw which surprised her.

'I broke his jaw? Maybe he's not as indestructible as I thought, well... He is still human after all. The again I did break Conner's jaw once' she told herself before hearing the sound of his jaw being put back into place, a piece of metal fell to the floor as he looked down.

"She... She broke the mask?! Ugh great" he sighed loudly, sounding heartbroken a little too.

"It was just a stupid mask anyway, not like you needed it" she rolled her eyes, which made him look at her immediately and he did not look happy at all.

"That... Was my dad's mask! And I didn't expect you to break it that easily" he scolded her, before picking up the piece of it before closing his eyes, knowing he shouldn't have been wearing it in the first place. Supergirl noticed the tone in his voice, which made her rethink her actions.

'Ugh... Well done Kara, you broke something that meant to someone, again. Though it was their fault for bringing it with them to begin with' she scolded at herself before continuing her thoughts 'He said it's his father's? Something tells me that he won't be happy with what happened to it'

She let the thought aside as their combat continued, he decided to outsmart her by teleporting away by causing smoke to surround her as she looked amused at this tactic.

"Uh, do you realize I can see you right? I have X-ray vision and all ~" She chuckled out of pity for him, she could see him getting ready to attack her from beyond the smoke - "And I can do this" she suddenly began breathing in the smoke, taking it all in for puffing it away into the sky.

She thought she'd found him... But only found nothing where he was standing before, this made her worry. Was he with the smoke or?

All of a sudden, she felt herself being kicked backwards by Y/N, appearing out of thin air in front of her before an ice wall appeared behind her and she collided with it.

"FYI, I can multitask my own abilities at the same time. I concealed myself in shadow to surprise you... But I admit, your speed is incredible -" he began to get distracted talking about her, labeling some of his thoughts about her too.

'Okay... Maybe he won't make the little Wayne run for his money and Jon was right... He sure is my number 1 stalker' the thought made her cringe 'But... He seems genuine about what he thinks... Too bad I have a job to do'

He seemed too distracted in gushing about her that she took this opportunity to speed herself toward him and landed a world breaking punch on him which sent him flying back across the ground.

He had been flung back at least pretty far, not far away to keep an eye on Omrin as he watched but it was far.

Y/N began to get up, feeling the effects of that powerful punch she inflicted on him which would be enough to knock someone down immediately, he groaned in pain as his stomach stung from the hit - "Augh! Ow!... *groans in pain* Okay... That actually hurt..." he got on one knee as he still felt the sting from the punch.

She floated toward him, arms crossed as she began to scold him - "Do you often get this distracted during fights? News flash for ya, this isn't a game" she frowned with annoyance, like she was a teacher at a school, telling off a bad student for bad behavior.

He chuckled at her, she was right, it wasn't a game - "I know... I'm just distracted, not because of what you said... But... It's hard trying to fight you since your face up close seems to distract me a lot, it's annoyingly cute" he admitted what distracted him, blushing slightly afterwards as he chuckled nervously.

He thought he would feel something worse coming toward him when saying that but in truth? Supergirl just looked down at him with a surprised look, blushing herself too.

She didn't know what to say, at a lost of words... She only blushed hard after it sunk in, she knew what he meant.

"Wait a second... Uh... Did you just... Call me cute?" she asked, her face still showing the blush on her cheeks

"You know what I mean but I gotta ask? That martial arts style... That was Klurkor right? You learned Klurkor too?" he then asked her, his hand lit up with a yellowish light, healing himself with Solar Healing, she could even feel it radiating off of him as she felt the energy power herself up a little, which even healed her up too pretty quickly.

'Klurkor? How does he know the Kryptonian martial arts? I might have to pay Jon 20 bucks on that stalker theory now... Or does he know Kryptonian history?' she thought to herself. Shocked to even think he knew the Kryptonian martial arts she underwent.

"How do you know that? You know Kryptonian history?!" she asked him almost immediately, floating down to the ground afterwards as she walked up to him cautiously.

"Yeah... I know what that symbol stands for too. Hope, the House of El... I believe there was another motto too? It was called... El Maru? El Mari?" he looked confused, she took this opportunity to fully walk up to him as he tried getting back up.

All her suspicions about him washed off pretty much immediately, she offered her hand to him which he looked at cautiously - "El Mayarah, it means Stronger Together" she smiled, knowing a human knows this much about Kryptonian history, she was eager to test him how much he knows. Even though they're just strangers.

"Yeah... El Mayarah, always loved that word. Wow you are pretty strong too, that punch? I felt that" he rubbed his stomach and she giggled at him.

"Well... I am super strong and I have lifted tons of weight on my shoulders before so and according to my cousin, I'm a little stronger than him" she shrugged with a smile, boasting about her strength - "Sorry for that by the way, got carried away when fighting you... Well, it's been a tough few weeks for me and I'm just a little worked up" her face fell flat when she continued speaking, knowing she has been a little stressed out as of late.

"No no, I get it... It's fine really. Honestly? Surprised you stopped fighting me to just chat instead, y'know? Talk it out and all instead of fighting" he cocked up an eyebrow.

"Yeah... I guess" Supergirl agreed with a shrug, a small smile on her face as awkward silence fell between them, she could see he was pretty nervous, how could she? By just telling by the paste of his heartbeat going fast, his way to avoid eye contact too, but she felt nervous too, so at least he wasn't the only one - "So... Heard you were a fan of me? Superboy, who is my cousin's son, heard you talk about me, I thought you were just a stalker at first but this now just squashed that theory" her smile grew back as she asked the question.

"What? Oh uh... Yeah, y-yeah... In a way, I am a fan of you and what you've accomplished, I've always wanted to meet a Kryptonian face to face. I know I'm pretty nervous about this" he rubbed the back of his neck, blushing a little as he looked away from her.

"It's okay to feel nervous. But I wanna know something... How much do you know about Kryptonian history? I know this hasn't got anything to do with this current situation... I just need to know if I can... Trust you" she asked him, looking at him with a pleading face, he looked back as he thought of an answer.

"On my Earth, there used to be living and breathing Kryptonians, their history was left on Earth after they suddenly disappeared, once they were Earth's protectors who suddenly vanished without any explanation, no one knows why or what happened" he explained.

'That figures, he is from another Earth' she thought to herself.

"But... I learned the history they left behind, even some of their martial arts, Klurkor was one of them. This was after I learned to control my abilities after Liang taught me to harness them within. That is why I recognized your fighting stance, how I caught your attacks quickly, I learnt to adapt to you within seconds" he explained further, which interested Supergirl further.

"Guessing that's how you used learned to use your Solar thing to heal yourself there? ~" she asked him to which he nodded a yes to her, since she seen him use that Solar magic to heal himself - "I do know you have a lot of questions you want to ask me, Superboy told me that too and... I know you have a little crush on me" she said with an amused tone along with a blush rising up on her face, she's dealt with people who have admitted to crushing on her before, but not to this extent, especially finding Y/N as a handsome and what appears to be, a very kind person overall.

"Uh *nervous laugh* Yes I, I-I-I m-mean! ~ I have no idea wh-what you're on about" he blushed heavily, being confronted by his crush really seemed to make him stutter.

The Maiden of Might only giggled at his stammering words, she was interested so far - "Y/N is it?" she offered her hand to him to shake.

He looked down at her hand and smiled as the violent red blush began to fade away, knowing he's going to shake her hand - "Yeah... You can call me Mancer too, my friends call me Multitasker and a whole a bunch of other names that correspond with my powers" he shook her hand, making eye contact with her.

"Kara, Kara Zor-El, or Kara Danvers. You already know the rest" she winked, their hand shake ending a second later. He looked back to where Kara broke his mask after that fly by punch she gave him earlier.

Kara saw the look on his face, he looked disheartened - "I'm sorry about breaking your father's mask, I know it won't fix it but..." she apologized, placing her hand on her right upper arm knowing she was guilty.

"It's alright, I shouldn't have been wearing it in the first place... It belonged to dad, but... He's long since been gone" he replied, Kara's head perked up at that moment upon hearing what he said about his father, which made her stomach drop.

She broke his late dad's mask.

"Oh... I didn't know, I'm s-sorry to hear that" she felt really guilty at that moment, she'd do anything to fix it. That mask seemed to mean a lot to him now knowing the fact is was his late dad's mask...

Which gave her an idea.

"It's okay Supergirl, you don't need to feel bad for me or anything, we should get the others to stop-"

"No no, I-I can fix it for you! There's tech back at the Fortress of Solitude that can repair it, making the mask look like it is brand new!" she interrupted him by appearing in front of him, their height pretty much almost matching too as he was in a state of shock when her face was a little close to his. However, that feeling was soon left out of the way upon thinking back to what she said just now.

"Uh... You... Y-You can fix my dad's mask?" he asked her with curiosity the next, she nodded her head immediately.

"Yep! No need to-" she got interrupted by getting pulled onto him, she felt his arms wrap around her as her most of her face was over his shoulder, all she needed to do was be on her tippy toes to rest her chin on his shoulder.

"Ugh, you're the best! That really means a lot, thank you so much" he hugged her with gratitude without thinking, her expression showed she was flabbergasted by the random hug, even blushing a little too as a few seconds go by.

That was when he realized the position he was in, his eyes opened wide as he began blushing, pulling back slightly as the two looked at each other, blinking.

"Uh..." he looked awkward, sounded nervous and what didn't help was that he was blushing a little also.

"Don't be" she smiled, already knowing what he was going to say afterwards, causing him to smile also.

"I have so many questions I want to ask you" he told the girl, making her giggle at his words.

"I know! And I'm very eager to hear them all" her smile brightened, that smile that could make a person's heart flutter.

"I'll tell you them all later, but for now? We need to take Omrin back to our world"

"You mean, you need to take Omrin back to your world? Which I'm not supposed to let you do?" Kara asked him with a cocked up eyebrow, noticing his little mistake there.

"Oh, yeah... About that... Think you'll let us? Omrin is a danger to your world, leave him in Stryker Island? He'll just find a way to break out. Trust me, it's happened before on my Earth, he broke out of the world's securest Supermax Prisons and manipulated his way to get out ~" Y/N spoke with his side on the situation, knowing Omrin is a danger to this world, especially now that he pretty much dismantled the world's greatest heroes on this Earth - "Please... Let us take him back to my world, he won't harm any one of your Earth's people again... I promise. We won't kill him, we don't stand for that, we let the judge decide the punishment once he's brought in for trial" he asked her politely, knowing the answer was going to be no anyway. She had her orders after all.

But... To his surprise... She didn't answer straight away, a sigh left her mouth instead as he wondered what her worded answer was going to be.

She looked puzzled, she had no clue how to even answer it, all she knew was that Omrin needed to be taken in to Stryker Island for his crimes and manipulation to get his way.

"I... I don't know if I can answer that... I mean, we're supposed to take him to Stryker Island, and you want to take him back to your world to bring him into justice your way by executing him ~" she spoke of the two sides fighting over a captive with a sigh, as if she needed more stress as it is - "But... I know for a fact my cousin and the League won't trust you and your allies at all, he's already signaled the rest of the active League members to come here to assist them, and they'll be here very shortly" she continued, bringing up another problem in the current situation. Causing her to look the other direction, away from his eyes.

"Well... I trust you... Maybe you can convince him?" he asked the troubled Supergirl, a smile escaped from her at his other words.

"I can try ~" she looked back at him with the same smile on her face still - "You already trust me?"

"Why shouldn't I? You're the Girl of Steel, the Woman of Tomorrow right? And I am a fan of you" he shrugged.

"Haha, fair point" she giggled, the two made eye contact again, smiles exchanged towards each other.

However... The moment was ruined by a sudden shout and wrestling from afar, Y/N fully broke apart from Supergirl as the two looked at the direction of the wrestling.

"You ain't going anywhere Sorcerer!" Satine wrestled on the ground with him, leaving Y/N to wonder how Omrin managed to break free of his bonds, thinking his powers would be useless against his ice.

"Well, I guess I was wrong, he could still break out if he wanted to" Y/N groaned before noticing Supergirl began levitating toward Satine and Omrin wrestling each other.

"Unhand me you worm!" Omrin cussed, trying to use his magic to break free of Satine's hold on him.

The two continued struggling to fight each other on the ground as Supergirl drew closer to the both, wanting to help Y/N's ally out of kindness, now knowing they could be trusted.

"May I?" Supergirl landed on the ground before delivering a punch onto Omrin which was heard from a distance, knocking Omrin out cold as he stopped squirming. Dusting her hands off with an accomplished smirk on her face.

Satine noticed he was out cold and looked up at the Girl of Steel who she didn't expect to get help from as she got up off the ground.

"Good riddance... Thank you by the way, didn't expect you to help the last minute there" Satine cracked her neck, sharing her gratitude for the save. The Kryptonian smiled in response to her thanks.

Y/N had ran up to the two woman finally as he looked down at the unconscious Omrin - "Well he definitely deserved that ~" he spat out before looking at Satine and Supergirl - "Where's Liang and Xalex? Still fighting I take it?" he asked Satine.

"Pretty sure they are, I got knocked back far by Superman Junior, Xalex is the one fighting him right now. Liang? Probably the same" Satine answered as Supergirl narrowed her eyes past Satine, seeing the said people still fighting her own two family members.

"Yep... And your boss is... Actually managing to kick my cousin's ass" she sounded surprised, 'maybe they were pretty skilled at fighting superpowered beings after all', was the thought she had in her own head. Never thinking she'd see the day too.

"Supergirl is going to talk down Superman and his... Son that we're not the enemies in this. She's well aware of Omrin and she's eager to help us" Y/N told Satine about Kara's rather helping hand from earlier which she was convinced either way.

"So, she can be trusted?" Satine tested him, to see if he was right before looking at the blonde haired girl.

"Yes, I trust that she'll help us, her cousin's allies are also going to be here soon... So... We'll definitely need her to talk them down from attacking us" he looked at her and a smile was exchanged from her after she looked at him.

"Well, let's get on with it before it happens then, I'll stay here, keep an eye on the snake here" she self acclaimed to remain behind, spitting out Omrin's nickname before looking down at his unconscious body with a disgusted look.

"Good... So..." he looked at her before she read him like a book and wrapped an arm around him and began levitating off the ground, lifting him up with her. Surprised at this action, he looked at Supergirl before she chuckled

"I already knew what you were gonna say... Was just a step ahead of you" she winked.

* *

(Some time later...)

It was rather a surprise that it took some little convincing that the alternative heroes were here on good intentions and not to take a captive back for execution, Supergirl was relieved that her cousin and her nephew stopped their fight with Xalex and Liang respectively.

Though the Man of Steel was still a little suspicious about the group of alternative heroes, he was fine with a temporary alliance until the EDC were to go back to their respective Earth, regarding their common enemies.

However, it seemed not only was Omrin the only villain of the EDC's Earth that arrived to this Earth, he made an alliance with a mafia mob boss who travels to different worlds, going by the name Becknar, a man who specializes in his own way of criminal activity, especially when he has a mob of his own to conduct in criminal business.

Omrin was interrogated by the EDC Heroes at the Hall of Justice, given the temporary alliance. He had no choice but to spill the beans and give out a location, which the location was in fact... New York City, at the abandoned LIC Fresh Direct Site where business had been conducted there with a mafia boss named Roman Sionis aka...

Black Mask... Leader of the Sionis Crime Family.

The question was... "What is Black Mask doing in New York City?"

Gotham bored him dry, every time he conducted business, Batman or any of the Bat-Family would barge in and interrupt his business and he got sick of it, deciding to work elsewhere and move on from trying to overthrow the Billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne.

And tonight? There was to be a meeting with Black Mask and Becknar, discussing arms deals and arrangements.

With this information... Liang struck a plan to have someone recon the place and infiltrate the compound, stop their plans altogether and capture Becknar for questioning and to bring him behind bars.

And he knew the suitable person for the job... Despite the lower numbers.

"Me? You sure? I'm not the type of person who's better at doing these things alone, since I'm the only ninja we have right now" Y/N looked puzzled and worried.

"You are the suitable person for the job Mancer, you're a ninja and a warrior, and you're not always going to work alongside others in stealth covert missions" he spoke with a serious manner. "I'm trusting that you'll get the job done without any problems, you're remarkable at stealth and none of us are built for that... Not even me" he admitted to not being the greatest at stealth, but he spoke to him as a father figure with the truth.

"Yeah but... I'm not sure if I'm ready to go alone, I'm still learning as it is, I've not mastered the full art of stealth" he told him, sounding like he was unworthy of being a ninja warrior.

Liang put a hand on Y/N's shoulder to console him. "Then let this mission be a test, your first covert mission alone, with no backup from any other ninja. I am trusting you with this, don't let your other ninja brothers and sisters down".

However, during this... Their conversation was being eavesdropped upon by Superboy, the Man of Steel's son who informed him about Liang's orders to Mancer aka Y/N. With this info, Superman made a call to a certain someone who patrols New York City to protect it from criminal activity.

* *

Y/N ran across the rooftops of New York City, using his grapple hook to traverse the busy city below him as he grappled from roof to roof, using his own abilities to make impossible jumps, not suited for a normal human being to make.

His destination was the LIC Fresh Direct Site that was no longer in commission, just the average villain hideout.

As he kept moving toward his destination, he had a feeling he wasn't alone... The feeling of someone with a red cape with a fully colored yellow S shield on the cape and golden blonde long wavy hair, watching him parkour across the city buildings with ease.

He could practically see his own destination now as he drew near.

"Alright, you can do this. Just scope the place out, sneak around, take down some bad guys quietly, get in, take down more bad guys quietly and catch Becknar by surprise, maybe Black Mask too?" he spoke to himself loudly in between breaths as he kept moving. "This time? Doing it alone... You can do this Y/N, you can do this" he said with nervousness.

He now stopped to land on a nearby perch to scope out the compound with binoculars and as he does this? He heard some girly giggling behind him as he stopped looking into his binoculars. Startled by the sudden giggling.

"Do you usually talk to yourself this much when you're alone? It's pretty cute honestly" he heard the girl giggle, floating just behind him above. Turning himself round to look at the nosey girl... Who is Supergirl.

"Oh... H-Hey" he spoke with shy intent, a blush rushing up his cheeks after her words processed in his head. "You think that's... Cute? Wait... What are you doing here? I'm on a covert mission that I have to do alone" he asked the real question.

"Ah well... Kal wants me to uh... Overlook your covert mission" she responded with some air quote signatures near the end of her words. "And since it's in New York, I also patrol here! So... Yeah, plus if I didn't know about it, I'd end up being nosey anyway" she spoke cheerfully, giggling afterwards at him talking to himself earlier.

"So... He doesn't trust us is what you're implying?" he asked as he stood up from the perch he took and crossed his arms.

"Well... Yeah" the Girl of Steel sighed. "Look, there's been a lot that has happened and... Well... You can imagine that trust is a very strong word so it'll take some time to earn his trust, especially with one of the League's closest allies betraying them recently which has broken that level of trust as of late" she explained as she floated closer to him, now levitating steadily beside him.

"Oh, I get it" he shrugged, knowing how it feels.

"Yeah, don't worry though. I trust you" she winked. "I did speak with Satine and she has told me some things about you".

"I imagine good things" he sounded worried.

"Don't worry! It was all good things... Including the uh... Crush on this gal right here type of thing" he pointed to herself as a blush ran up his face again.

'Ugh, Satine was right, he's cute, very cute... Rao he's more than cute, he's adorably cute' Kara thought to herself as she blushes a little by gushing over his looks, the way he'd look away every time someone mentioned his little crush on the Kryptonian girl made her realize she maybe beginning to fall for him.

Or when Kara would look at Y/N back at the Hall of Justice and catch him steal some looks at her before looking away with a little blush on his face. Seriously, she had to admit that he's cute.

She knows of his backstory, which all reminded her of what happened on Krypton, she lost a planet, her own people.

He lost a village he called home. He lost his own people too, but the only thing he had left was his own mother.

It was no wonder why she felt so interested about knowing him more from other people, she didn't just want to know the boy who has a crush on her, she wants to know the real him.

"So..." she spoke with her hands behind her back. "Is it alright if I join you on this? Ya never know if you need some girl power in this" she asked politely, smiling as she spoke.

Y/N considered it for a moment, then again he had to prove he could do missions alone now, without the need of other ninjas like him... But he had to admit, having someone with him could work, especially if it's a superpowered, practically indestructible alien superhero.

"Eh, sure why not... But I know stealth isn't your strong suit" he teased with a smirk.

"What?! Pfft, that's a lot of bull! I'm great at stealth!" she denied.

"You sure? I read your file and I quote" he took a breath before explaining what he read up earlier. "Supergirl isn't known for her skill of stealth, no thanks to the bright colors on her suit, but rather a force to be reckoned with as she is someone to rely on. When it comes facing off larger and stronger threats, speeding targets, she's one of the many powerhouses that can deal with those threats thanks to her many abilities like Superman's, but like Superman, Supergirl can be good for other purposes of distraction to hold the enemy at bay while others can move into their proceeded objectives without issue" he said with some smarts, causing her to gasp.

"Oh, you really shouldn't have!" she played like she was offended, holding a hand to her heart. "the knowledge, It's killing me!" she exaggerated before erupting in a fit of giggles, causing him to giggle with her.

Their giggles soon ended as the humor between them died down, Y/N re-focused on his task as Supergirl still floated beside him.

"So... Heard Black Mask was conducting business here tonight" Supergirl went on. "Question is... What is he doing in my turf?" the Kryptonian wondered by scratching her chin. "I guess Gotham was boring him so he decided to move here... Humph! Big mistake now that I'm around" she gloated next.

"Don't underestimate your enemies, Kara. You never knew what-"

"What they're capable of... I've heard that many times before" she rolled her eyes playfully, causing Mancer to lightly chuckle.

"Well... Since you're the one with X-ray vision... Can you do the honors?" he asked her like a gentleman.

"Already on it" she winked before her eyes glowed a light blue, her eyes narrowed as her vision zoomed in, her super hearing picked up.

"And you're sure this... Device, can do the job?" Black Mask aka Roman Sionis spoke as he looked down at some weapon case.

"The device can get the job done, it can shut off any electronics within 50 meters or less, I can imagine what you'll do with it but even better? My scientist is currently working on a device, capable of shutting off radiation sources... Which includes Kryptonian based powers thanks to the radiation of the yellow sun" Kara heard the voice belonging to Becknar.

Kara's vision went back to normal as she blinked a few times before turning her head to face Y/N.

"What'd you see? Is Becknar in there?" Y/N asked.

"I think that's him and Black Mask is in there too, they're selling some sort of device that can shut off electronics within 50 meters or less, and he has someone working on a something that can shut out a Kryptonian's powers" she sounded worried the more she explained. Confirming Y/N's theory and the Intel provided earlier.

"That's definitely Becknar alright, let's head inside, there's a bunch of guards outside" he spoke to her as he leapt off before firing his grapple book. "I'll need to take them out quietly, maybe you can help since... You're the one with flight and super speed" he suggested.

"Or" the Maiden of Might stopped him before he advanced further. "We can do something different"

"Like what?" he asked with a confused look as she smirked.

"Well... Supergirl isn't known for her skill for stealth" she repeated what he said earlier. "Supergirl can be good for other purposes of distraction to hold the enemy at bay while others can move into their proceeded objectives without issue. I'll distract the guards, you get in and do your job" her smirk turned into a smart grin as he smiled at the girl.

"Wow... You're a smart girl" he complimented.

"Aww thank you! I know I am but it's nice hearing it from you" she winked. "So... Shall I do the honors?" she asked nicely.

"Well... On you go Supergirl, dance floor's yours" he exaggerated, the female superhero winked before flying off to be the distraction.

He advanced forward as he watched the Kryptonian do a Superhero Landing in the middle of the compound as the guards were startled.

"Hey boys!" she shouted as the guards all gained her attention. "Allow me to welcome you to New York City and you didn't invite me also? I'm hurt" she taunted them.

"Shit, it's her!" one of the guards panicked and went for the alarm button, only for them to be caught up by the Girl of Steel in an instant.

"Ah-Ah-Ah, I don't think so" she punched him across the compound to where he'd land on a bunch of stacked boxes.

Y/N whistled lightly at this as he watched her taunt them more, smiling as she continued.

"Atta girl, now to head inside" he advanced furthermore. "But to find a stealthier way in".

* *

Y/N silently walked throughout the warehouse before silently teleporting onto a railing using his smoke magic to do so, quickly noticing a lookout guard, he sprang onto him and attacked him, using his ice staff which had the guard knocked out cold (no pun intended) upon the impact to his head.

He leapt over to the other walkway where he was fully concealed, listening in to what the conversation followed as.

"To be honest? I was expecting to have something in return... Since I am offering such a powerful device for your mafia to use" Becknar hinted which Black Mask narrowed his eyes toward him, scowling him even behind his mask.

"You were expecting something? I thought this was an alliance, you help me, I help you. What you're offering is for both of us" he slightly gets annoyed with this hint, causing Becknar to frown.

"An alliance? Did I say that?" he frowned expression, turned to wonder. He was rather puzzled at this as he didn't see this as an alliance, but more of... Two people having common enemies.

"You damn right you did! That sorcerer said it himself!" he scowled, already losing his temper with Becknar's wording of things.

"And yet we have talked business, I've given what you needed, and I'm willing to give you another device in return of our... Shared agreement. Now... The money..." he simply snapped his fingers as his men took aim at Black Mask and his own mafia goons. "Or else... There will be consequences and I'll take the device back, it'd be a shame to ruin that fancy suit of yours with bullet holes... And blood" he smirked upon throwing out his cigar.

Simon growled with anger, being outplayed like this wasn't in his list of things, especially by someone who is another mob boss.

"Fine! I'll give you money, if that's what you insist" he hissed at the well travelled mob boss in return he smirked at the masked mob boss.

"Then... The device is yours-" Becknar was interrupted as a guard from outside was suddenly came crashing through the window, startling every one... Even Y/N himself.

'Girl must be enjoying herself out there' Y/N smirked.

"What the fuck! What's going on out there!" Black Mask shouted, demanding to know why one of his goons was thrown through the window from outside, let alone with gunfire ringing out before stopping each second.

Before any question were asked and answered, Y/N suddenly jumped down, revealing himself to every one who gained his attention.

"Mancer" Becknar hissed.

"Hello Beck, been a while" his hand lit with ice before an ice ball was fired out, hitting Becknar in the chest. "Ice to meet you too" he joked as guns were pointed toward him.

The Black Mask stood up from his seat as his men along with Becknar's men all pointed their weapons toward the ninja.

"Black Mask... Roman Sionis, I've come to shut down this whole op you've got going on here and I'm taking Becknar with me... All I ask... Is that you and your goons leave New York City... Or something worse is gonna come your way" he tried intimidating the masked mob boss, before an eruption of laughter came out from Roman himself before he growled.

"As much as he was a pain in my ass... He told me about you... What's got you vigilante's always interrupting my damn business?!" he began to scowl. "And here you are... Surrounded by guns of all sorts, no way to run... Or hide. And you have the decency to threaten me? ME?! Who do you think you are? The Red Hood? If that's who is out there, kindly tell him to fuck off for me will you?" he walked back to his seat and picked up his suit jacket.

"Oh? The Red Hood? I never brought him nor have I met the guy personally... Do you realize who patrols New York City... Right?" he asked Mask the question.

"What? You questioning me now? Boy?" he looked at the ninja with a frowned look under his mask.

"Yeah... Now answer the question" he demanded.

Black Mask looks puzzled, wondering what the ninja was meaning, no one ever patrols New York from what he heard, especially from the pair of goons who scoped the place before hand. "No... I don't... Because I had people scope out the city for vigilantes, like you"

"Haha, that's where you're mistaken... See" he attempted to move but a warning shot narrowly missed his foot, he remained unmoved by this. "Who patrols the city... Isn't a vigilante, she's... more than a vigilante" he spoke in riddles, causing Mask to be curious.

"And who is she?" he asked, getting closer to the ninja.

"Well... She wears this symbol" he hinted, as the warehouse main door was suddenly hit by a crashing thug outside, startling most of the guards who now aimed their weapons toward the main door. "This symbol... Represents... Hope, but it's got an S instead" he smirked as Mask began to suddenly realize who the ninja was referring to.

He could tell by the look in Mask's eyes that fear was running down his body as he backed up.

"Shit... Shit... Shit!! You're working with her?!" Roman understandably panicked, before the main door was breached, sending it to the floor with a thud.

A blur of blue and red with some yellowish blonde streaks suddenly sped into the warehouse, taking out the guards surrounding Y/N with weapons, swiftly taking them all out with one punch, the blur appeared beside Y/N in the form of Supergirl, now appearing beside the ninja.

"Hey, Black Mask! Next time you do criminal business, make sure there isn't a boy or girl scout patrolling the city next time!" she spoke with her hands on her hips, feeling the adrenaline in her veins as she said it. Giving him a tip.

"Argh! Damn you Kryptonians!" he cursed out before making a run for it, refusing to even fight back at the slightest knowing it wasn't going to work.

Mancer and Supergirl look at each other and smirk and shake their heads. "They never learn, do they?" he asked the Kryptonian.

"Nope, this won't take long" she winked before speeding off.

Black Mask ran hopelessly to find a safe exit away from the Kryptonian who just watched him run helplessly, all the guards were knocked out, including Becknar's guards.

As he saw an exit, hope ran up his spine before a gust of wind and a blur went past him, Supergirl leaned on the wall beside the door.

"Going somewhere?" she asked as Roman turned back around in a hurry, running the opposite way before he was stopped yet again by the Girl of Steel. "Besides jail?" she smirked, posing confidentially as he began to back up.

"Hey hey, let's just agree to let me go okay? I'll-I'll... I'll leave by tomorrow, I promise! Me, my men, all of them! Gone by tomorrow" he begged for the Maid of Might to let him go.

"Hmm... Not so sure about that... Since you've been up to business while I've been busy outside New York, especially conducting business with someone of interest to a friend of mine" she crossed her arms before she saw Y/N teleport behind him. "Plus... I'm sure he'll also agree too" she smirked and looked toward Y/N.

Roman turned round and was met with a fist toward his masked face, surprisingly knocking out the masked mob boss out cold. "Ow... His mask really is made out of metal"

* *

Mancer and Supergirl both gathered up the unconsciously beaten goons of Roman's men and Becknar's men for soon the NYPD would soon arrive to make arrests as a fellow hero would arrive, most notably a Green Lantern named Kyle Rayner who bubbled up Becknar's goons along with the boss Becknar himself now unfrozen and cuffed with him back to Liang and the others.

"When I get out, I'm going to-" Black Mask was cut off by the door shutting on him by a police van that held some of his goons inside.

As the last remaining goons were being escorted out from the warehouse by heavily armed cops, Supergirl suddenly approached Y/N who was just about to leave the scene, which surprised him.

"Hey" she waved as she floated down to the ground lightly. "We uh, we made a pretty good team back there... Though I did most of the work" she chuckled awkwardly at the end, looking down as she did so with a cute smile on her face.

"Yeah... I guess we made a good team back there" he agreed with her on that one, he was pretty shocked about it.

"Also I uh... Want to apologize about... Not letting you do this covert mission on your own, if that's what you wanted" she looked guilty, throwing herself under the bus which Y/N frowned at.

"No no, it's alright!" he reassured her which made her look back at him. "I'm glad we worked together on this, despite Liang saying this mission was mine to do alone, I'm just not ready to work alone so... It was nice to have someone different to work with me for a change"

"Really?" she asked him curiously with a slight smile.

"Mhm, I mean it" he smiled, causing her to fully smile. "Since you're here still... Mind if I ask you something?" he asked with the growing feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

"Y-Yeah sure! Anything" she happily answered with her hands on her hips.

"Would it be alright if... Maybe... If you could... Give me a lift... Back? As much as I do enjoy running and teleporting my way back, I was wondering if you'd take me back since... Well, you can fly and-"

"Sure! I'd be more than happy to!" she suddenly swooped up the boy in her arms swiftly, interrupting him from speaking more.

The action made his face flush red, a move he didn't expect to happen so sudden. Supergirl carrying him like a groom would carry their bride but if the roles were reversed, the bride carrying the groom instead.

He felt the wind catch up as the Girl of Steel began floating up with a smile on her face. "You're gonna enjoy this, this is my favorite part" she gleefully spoke, the sparkle in her eyes as she flew up, up and away into the sky.

The city below them began getting smaller as seconds go by, Supergirl begins to fly forward as the wind picks up, her cape and hair billow behind her as she flew forward, a smile began to grow on Y/N's face as he's never experienced this before.

"This is... Amazing!" his smile grew into a grin, feeling the air hit his face lightly as the Maiden of Might giggles.

"I know! It's my favorite part, whenever I'm bored I just fly around, close my eyes and just daydream of things or listen to the sounds I can hear that are peaceful, like birds chirping" spoke the cheerful Kara Zor-El. "Have you never experienced this before? Because it doesn't seem like you have" she asked him all of a sudden.

"Yeah" he looked at her. "We don't have anyone who can bend the laws of gravity anymore, not since the Kryptonians left Earth years ago before my time or my parent's time" he explained more about his Earth and his experience.

Kara's face softened at this. "That must've been years and years ago"

"It was, but this Earth is unlike my Earth, it's so... Modernized than futuristic, and for some reason? I... Actually like it more better" he admitted sadly.

"Really?" she asked with a frown.

"Yeah... As much as how sad that sounds? It's the truth, I've always wanted to know what modernized Earth was like, and this is the perfect example. All the data about modernized Earth was lost, destroyed. Everyone from modernized Earth are now gone forever. Which is why I'm thinking of asking permission to stay behind, to remain here instead of going back so I can start research on modernized Earth for our data collectors" he explained further, which made Kara smile again.

"You'd actually want to stay here?" she asked curiously.

"Honestly? Yeah... I'd love to stay here" he admitted with a smile on his face, his smile caused her to smile brightly, the two looked into each other's eyes for a brief moment before looking away, a blush spreading up the ninja's cheeks as she kept her smile upon looking forward.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the designated destination, the current HQ of Y/N's allies shortly put up by the help of some fellow Leaguers to assist in their ongoing investigation of the situation.

Kara gracefully landed on the ground gently before putting down Y/N onto his feet as the two exchanged a glance and a smile.

"Well... This is bye for now I suppose, I gotta get back to my New York apartment, Streaky is probably going nuts right now" Kara spoke with a worried tone.

"Who's Streaky?" Y/N innocently asked.

"My cat" she answered quickly.

"Oh... You have a cat? That's cool" he smiled.

Kara smiled back before turning her back to him, getting ready to fly back off.

However... She wasn't expecting for her name to be called out by Y/N, causing her to frown with curiosity and turn round to face him once more.

"Uh... Before you go, can I quickly ask you something" he asked.

Her frown softened as she smiled. "Sure, what's on your mind?" Kara placed her hands on her hips again, wondering what the boy was going to ask her.

"Oh... I didn't think this through" he spoke to himself before snapping out of it. "Uh... So... Are you... Busy? Tomorrow maybe?" he asked with a squinted look on his face.

"Uh... No? Well, judging from the fact that I have patrolling to do usually... Probably if there is any crime" she corrected herself by rolling her eyes at the same time before her eyes narrowed back onto him. "Why?"

"Well... Uh... I uh, wanted to ask you if you... Maybe... Want to go out with me? Y'know like? Get a bite or something? A drink? Dinner maybe?" he asked her which took her by surprise, a question she was definitely not expecting. "You're single... Right?"

'Rao, did he just... Ask me out on a date?!' she asked herself, flustered at the sudden question flung onto her, she wasn't sure how to respond nor act at this moment, her eyes widened at him, mouth a-gape a little. 'Maybe that's why he wanted to stay on this Earth'

He looked at her after asking and he judged by the look on her face that she probably wasn't too happy, his expression saddened before changing his mind.

"Actually... Forget I asked, I didn't mean to offend or anything" he spoke with a saddened tone, rubbing the back of his neck in awkwardness as he looked away, breaking eye contact away from the golden haired heroine.

Kara began smiling softly at him before she decided to walk toward him, she never thought she'd be interested but she sure felt interested in him, knowing he's got a crush on her and the fact he's a fan despite being from another Earth.

She may hardly know him but... That would pass by soon enough.

It wasn't long till Y/N noticed Supergirl walking up to him with a soft expression, her smile grew big as she drew closer to him, before he could even ask what she was doing, he was stopped...

By a pair of lips...

On his left cheek...

Her eyes opened as she pulled back with a huge smile on her face as his cheeks flushed red. "Does that answer your question?" she asked, proud of what she just did. She noticed they were being watched by Satine and Xalex who seemed to be shocked by the whole ordeal.

"A-Are you... Free to go out tomorrow?" he asked her again to which she smirked.

"Yeah, I guess I can call of my plans to patrol tomorrow night, in exchange for our... Date" she spoke softly in a rather warm tone of voice before kissing his other cheek for confirmation which seemed make him blush harder.

It was then she noticed something on the floor, a little piece of paper that was being dragged by the soft wind as her cape blew in the direction of the wind along with her hair.

She knelt down and picked it up with inhuman speed as she looked back at her date for tomorrow. "Got a pen?" she asked.

"Oh uh" he began checking his pockets, before he felt something, not a pen. He checked his back pocket and felt something again. "Ah yes... A pen! For some reason I have one?" he asked himself confused, before handing it over.

She began jotting down something quickly before handing it over to him. "Here's my number, call me" she smiled before floating up.

"Yeah... I will" he smiled as he looked up at her.

"I'll be waiting! Mwah!" she blew him a kiss before flying off as he watched her go. A smile grew big on his face before looking down.

He turned round and as he realized... This was not a dream.

"Wow... I'm going on a date tomorrow... With Supergirl"...

* *

(Friday, The 'Super' Date Night)

Today was the day... Or tonight at least...

News that Mancer asked out the Girl of Steel was brought to mostly everyone's ears, a surprise at most... But there was skepticism about it.

The EDC weren't fully trusted yet, it's only been three days now and with Becknar had been brought in for questioning... Nothing yet has been revealed.

But as of right now? Kara is currently in his cousin's apartment with his wife and son. Jon was out along with Lois Lane Kent.

"I mean... He's just so different from any other boy I've met, there's something about him that interests me" she had her chin on the palm of her hand, waiting for her cup of coffee that was being made by Clark.

"And this happened... Last night?" Clark asked curiously, wondering why his cousin was asked out by someone from a different Earth.

Fair to say? He was happy for her, his skepticism went down the drain upon his talk with Liang... Who is like a father figure to Mancer aka Y/N.

Both Kara and Y/N maybe in their early 20s, but they've both learned a lot, the only difference is?

Kara has been on a date before and it didn't go exactly right and planned.

Y/N hasn't fell in love, nor been on a date. Yet she doesn't know this yet.

"Yeah... After I flew him back to his boss's base of operations, well for now at least, doubt it'll remain once they're back on their Earth" Kara explained. "He's just... So kind and he radiates this aura that got my attention... He has a crush on Supergirl... But what about Kara Danvers? Adopted daughter of Eliza and Jeremiah Danvers? Two former D.E.O agents?" she asked the question.

"I'm sure he also sees you as Kara Danvers too, you told him your name after all" Clark reminded her as he handed her cup of coffee to her. She politely takes it. "Besides? It's a good thing you said yes, maybe it's time to try again and see the world in the eyes of Kara Danvers once more"

"I know but... I feel... Like my heart is drawn to him, but if I get too attached? And when he leaves for his Earth? I... I-I don't know what I'd do, go with him when I'm needed here? I don't exactly want him to leave his family behind just for me" said the now frustrated Kara Zor-El, she knew it was a stupid idea to get somewhat attached to the boy her age. "I probably shouldn't have kissed his cheek and said yes... What did I do?" she whimpered next.

"I'm for sure, something can be worked out" Clark hinted as he went to comfort his upset cousin. "But overall? Enjoy tonight, I'll have someone patrol New York, incase any crime breaks out that could ruin your date with Y/N" Clark smiled.

"Really? You sure something can be worked out? He did say he actually was thinking of wanting to stay here, but that'd split him away from his family" she referred to the group he came with to this Earth.

"I'm sure there is something, a way to keep in contact with that Earth's own heroes incase a threat were to emerge that require their expertise, we need all the heroes we can get, as threats are getting more dangerous now. Threats like Omrin" Clark said with a serious face, he for sure knew it was for the best, if something can be worked out with Liang and the EDC.

"How long could that take?" she asked.

"On that? We're not sure, Liang suggested it to me first, before to the rest of the League higher ups, well... Between me and Batman of course before them and it was approved, an ally to call on you could say" he answered her question, adding more light to the hint he said earlier.

His answer that shed light on the hint made her relieved, she for one had a liking for her date tonight, and she didn't want to feel attached to him only to never see him again, though she was a little nervous about it, since her last date?

Well as said... It was disastrous...

But that was the only thing that worried her mostly now...

"Thanks Cuz" she smiled before hugging him. "Though I am a little worried about my date tonight, considering my last one?" her facial expression now mortified, it worried her for the least second.

"From what Liang has told me... Y/N is one of the kindest fellows he's ever took under his wing, he's brave, bold, patient, compassionate and loyal. He would never hurt a spider from how he explained about him" he told his cousin.

Kara already knew some of this from her observation of him, he was kind, honest and respectable, along with being shy and having a good sense of humor. Something she probably needs in a relationship as of right now.

"I'm sure your date won't go horrible, I'll have someone take over patrolling in New York for tonight, like I said. Enjoy your date with him tonight, be confident nothing will go wrong" he cheered her up again, as she takes a sip from her coffee before breaking into a smile.

"Once again, thanks Cuz" she felt a little more better with hearing his words, no wonder why Lois fell in love with him, he was good at inspiring others.

And Kara hoped one day she could pretty much do the same, though she has done it before, but not as often as Clark has done it.

"Haven't you figured out what you'll be wearing to the date tonight?" Clark asked the question as he picked up his coffee now.

"Oh yeah! I'll get right onto that!!" Kara's eyes widened as she almost shot up from her chair. Once I... Finish this coffee" she remarked before settling down once more.

* *

Y/N stood nervous in his outfit for the date, a leather jacket with jeans and boots, a plain white t-shirt underneath. He was waiting to get picked up for the date, since Kara suggested she'd pick him up.

he agreed but it had been 10 minutes since she said she was flying over to pick him up and fly him back to New York for the date.

And yet... She hasn't arrived.

"Still not here I presume?" He heard a voice behind him, coming from Satine who joined him at least four minutes later

"Yeah... fourteen minutes late pretty much and still going" he sighed, as he looked up at the starry dim sky, beginning to grow worried.

"Hey, don't be too worried. She's probably ran or... Flew into danger" Satine remarked.

"That's why I'm worried!" Y/N replied. "I'm worried that might be the case, I'm tempted to call her but I don't know if she'll pick up" he sounded more worried by the seconds that passed by. Looking back down at the now revealed device on his wrist, bringing up Kara's name on the screen.

"Well you shouldn't worry too much" Satine looked up at the sky.

"Yeah, I know I-"

"No like... You shouldn't, because I can see her" Satine chuckled, getting Y/N to look up at the sky to see Supergirl flying toward them.

And she looked worried as anything.

'Oh Rao, oh Rao, oh Rao' thought a panicked Supergirl, flying on down toward her date, with a very worried look on her face, thinking she's already screwed up.

"I-I-I am so, so, so sorry that I arrived later than I should have" Kara floated down in her Supergirl attire, her cape resting behind her after landing. "I uh... Ran into some complications along the way *nervously chuckles*. You're not... Mad are you?" she asked with a little cute expression on her face, seemingly making Y/N softly smile.

"No, no... You're fifteen minutes late practically but... It's alright!" he approached and hugged her, a smile soon approaching on her face as she hugs back. "Whatever postponed your arrival, it's not screwed this up" he pulled back with a smile still.

"Well... Since that's the case, you ready?" she asked, a tone of excitement in her voice.

"Yep, we can go" he acknowledged, before Kara swooped him off his feet instantly and levitated off the ground.

"Gonna take us back to my apartment so I can change into an outfit for our date" the Kryptonian told him before he even asked.

"Well, I was gonna ask you that but, you read me like a book" he chuckled. "besides, I didn't just ask Supergirl to a date, I asked Kara Zor-El Danvers, who I see as both with or without the cape" he poked her nose, causing her to blush and giggle.

'Yeah, he is cute. Maybe our date could go well' she thought in her head, smiling at his friendly nature already.

"Well... Enjoy the date, love birds!" Satine shouted out and teased, watching Y/N be carried and flown away by his date.

The boy blushed a little upon hearing what Satine said. "Did she just call us... Love birds?" he blushed heavily now thinking about it, causing the Girl of Steel to giggle.

"Yeah, she defo called us that... I honestly see why" she flirted with a wink.

"We flirting already?" he smirked.

"If you want to" she smirked back.

"Well... I'd rather save the flirting for when we're at the restaurant for our date, maybe... A few during our uh... Walk through the park or whatever?" he told her, earning a bigger smirk from her.

"This your first date?" she asked curiously, she had a feeling it could be as he looked puzzled to say something for a brief moment.

"Y-Yeah... This is... My first ever date, never experienced this before... Sorry to disappoint" he felt awkward. "I just hope it doesn't go sideways"

"Don't worry! It's alright!" she sounded cheerful, eager to lighten up the situation he now found himself in. "You're in luck! I haven't exactly dated anyone in a while so it's kinda my first time in a way too! And no, it won't go sideways. Not even crime is gonna stop our date" she told him with a proud and classy smile.

They were now closing on in to New York, which was becoming visible from under the clouds, the lights showing off the city like a beacon in the dark.

"Well, you saying that does bring my hopes up. Sunshine" replied the boy her age, causing the girl to look surprised. Like she's never heard that before.

"Sunshine? Did you just call me Sunshine?" she began to blush with a cute smile on her face, the type of smile that could make someone not think straight once they see it toward them.

"Y-Yeah I did, your like a radiating sunshine, Kara. Not sure if anyone's said that before, but... From what I know, you bring caring and warmth everywhere you go. Just a cheerful sunshine on a summer day" he explained his reason, causing the Maid of Might to melt in his words.

"Aww, that's probably the most sweetest thing I've heard in a while now... That... That means a lot, you're so sweet" her face brightened with joy, the pair now flying above New York as she lowers herself into the city, just flying past the buildings now.

She flew around a building that looked to be a high-end apartment building, which seemed to look expensive. Y/N recognized the building itself since on his Earth? The building looked a lot more... Futuristic than modernized. Ritz-Carlton New York Hotel, now revealed that Kara indeed lives in there.

The Girl of Steel levitated herself lower until she saw her own opened window, flying through the opened window before gently landing and putting her date on his two feet once more.

"There we are! Welcome to my apartment room!" she performed a spin with a smile plastered on her face. She noticed the shock on his face, how could she have this much money? Having an apartment room like this? The view looked incredible. "Judging by the look on your face, you're pretty astonished" she giggled.

"I mean... Wow... When I thought apartment... I wasn't expecting this. You live at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel?! Especially this room? It's incredible!" he expressed his thoughts as his astonishment explored the room he was in. "On my Earth? This is like the oldest but cheapest Hotels to date, overshadowed by many other Hotels but... Wow, this is like... A dream, it's like going back to relive what it felt like being in this room" he explained.

"Well... I'm not exactly living in here forever though, I do plan to have a house built somewhere near New York, I do have a job as Kara Danvers here too so I can't exactly abandon that" she put her hands behind her back within her cape.

"What is this job of yours besides Supergirl?" he asked curiously.

"I work as a reporter at the Daily News, I'm a journalist. I used to work in National City at CatCo at the time but I quit that two years ago. I'm more happier working at the Daily News" she explained, she felt happy explaining more about herself, not as Supergirl, just as her alter ego.

"Interesting... Better save the stories for when we go out for dinner" he suggested, causing Kara to suddenly widen her eyes.

"Oh yeah! The dress! Hold on, be back in a Flash!" she giggled at herself afterwards before speeding off.

Y/N took the privilege to sit down on the sofa as he began to wait, his mind filled with many questions he wants to ask her. Though he knew he can't exactly ask her some questions in public regarding Krypton and other superhero related stuff. However, questions were on the board about Kara's human lifestyle.

Many thoughts began to overwhelm him, he felt nervous about it all, he's never done this before and he for sure, isn't great with relationships with girls. Hence why he's always avoided a romantic relationship.

At the same time? He likes Kara, he likes Kara for all she is, whether as Kara Danvers, the human who works as a journalist, or Supergirl aka Kara Zor-El, a superhero who is an alien refugee from the planet Krypton just like Superman.

In the other room, Kara is putting on her dress for the date, checking herself out on the mirror she had on display, smiling at herself before her thoughts overwhelmed her.

She was nervous also, never did she think she would begin to fall for someone who isn't even from this Earth, a human with powers beyond her imagination. ice, fire, solar, even smoke? Which smoke isn't even magic but still... He's able to use smoke as magic which confused her at first before accepting it was inevitable that it can be done.

She picked up her glasses, glasses that disguised her thoroughly, though it wasn't the same hair changing glasses she used to have. They broke under a certain altercation.

She puts them on as checks herself out again before exhaling a short breath, the feeling of butterflies in her stomach as she thinks about him... The same feeling from last night, where she screamed into her pillow with excitement, jumping up with joy. The same butterflies that'd make her feel happy around someone she likes a lot that it would make her float like one of those Disney princesses.

Y/N pondered how he was going to tell her that he likes her whenever it would come to that later, as he heard her coming back through. "You ready to see me?" she asked around the corner.

"Yeah, come on out" he answered, not expecting the sight he would see afterwards.

She was already beautiful as it is... But he's never seen someone this gorgeous in a dress... A blue dress with high heel sandals.

She parted her hair to the left side of her face as she stopped in front of him, showing off the dress from front... To back, showing off the elegant dress she decided to choose to wear.

"So..." she broke the silence. "You like it?" she asked with her hands behind her back, looking sheepish as she asks.

"I... Wow... You look like an angel" he softly spoke as the girl was flustered at his compliment.

"An angel?" she asked.

"Yeah... Like an angel who fell from the sky... Speaking of that since you came from another planet, so..." he referenced, making Kara blush heavily. "You're definitely an angel pretty much" he complimented again, causing the girl to give out a half-suppressed laugh.

"That's... That's so charming of you, I never thought myself as an angel" a cute smile was left on her face as she approached the now standing up boy. "You ready to go out for our date?" she asked politely.

"Yeah" he replied, taking her hand without thinking which caused the two to lightly blush and chuckle. "I think I'm ready to go out on our date"

* *

The couple were now at the restaurant, an Italian-American restaurant named Carne Mare, a place for good food surrounding Italian dishes and special dishes at best.

The couple found a seat and waited for someone to come over and take their order as they looked at the menu.

"Oh, they do Atlantic Halibut Steak? Pair that with potatoes? Especially roasted? Oh! it's good" he told his date who chuckled at his insight.

"Had it before I assume?" she asked as she lowered the menu she held in her hands.

"Yeah, Ma used to cook it, her own version at least, Ma told me it was my dad's favorite before he unexpectedly passed" he went on like it was nothing, Kara's eyes instantly widened at this new information she didn't hear before. She knew from the tone of voice he was still hurt over it.

"Your father passed away? I... I didn't know that" she didn't know what to say to this much, it was all of a sudden that he dropped the ball about his own personal life immediately. "I-I'm so sorry, I was going to ask you about your parents but..." she felt bad that she didn't know, feeling some guilt for him too.

"Hey, it's alright" he smiled as he lowered the menu he held. "It happened a while ago, and ma's doing okay, she's worried but... She knows I can handle myself out here" he made her smile with his words.

"Caring mothers are the best" she replied with a more happier tone.

"On that, I agree" he smiled brightly as she chuckled. "Got any family members you wanna talk about? Mine are uh... Well... It's complicated" he asked with an unsure face, knowing his family history is a long, long explanation.

"I should tell you about Eliza Danvers, my adopted mother, she's amazing. Along with Jeremiah, my adopted father" she spoke next.

"Oh? Wonder when I can get to meet these people" he wondered loudly, causing the girl to giggle.

"I'm sure you will at some point, I think they'll like you" she winked, as the waitress now arrived at their table.

"Good evening, I'm David, I'll be your server for tonight along with the rest of our guests" a man in a suit and bow-tie showed up with a small notepad to write on.

"Hello David!" Kara called out, waving toward the man as Y/N did the same.

"You two on a date may I ask?" the server politely asked.

"Yeah! Guessing it was pretty obvious?" Kara chuckled a reply, her date smiling along with her.

"It's not rare seeing a couple on a dinner date come here" the man replied. "So, drinks first. We've got Beer, Cocktails and Wine, we've also got Sparkling and Regular water if that's what you want?" he asked the couple.

"Oh, hmm... What do you think? Wine or Sparkling maybe?" Kara asked her date.

"I say we go sparkling water, not the biggest fan of Wine" Y/N replied as the server wrote it down.

"Alright, starters?" he asked next, Kara and Y/N looked at one another for a moment before agreeing on no starters. "Okay, main and side dish?" he then asked.

"Hmm... I'll go for a Mezzi Rigatoni, he'll go for... An Atlantic Halibut Steak" Kara informed the server as he began jotting down the order. "No side dish for me, not sure about this handsome guy here" she flirted with Y/N, making him chuckle with a blush rising up on his face.

"I'll take a side dish of uh... Potatoes Rustica?" he asked.

"Done, there is Dolci's which are desserts in other words, if you both want to order one after the main and side dishes, I'll come back to order for it afterwards along with your food and drinks soon!" David finished jotting down the couple's order before smiling.

"Thank you David!" Kara says as his smile shows his gratitude before walking off to take another order.

"Wow, this place is a lot more fancier than I thought" Kara told herself loudly.

"It is an Italian-American restaurant, it's gonna look fancy regardless" Y/N shrugged.

"It's quite nice, not that I'm complaining or anything. It's just... Not the first time I've been to a restaurant like this" she chuckled while thinking back to the last time she went on a date.

"Y'know? Now that you've mentioned it? Who did you last date before me? It sounds like it happened a few years ago" he asked her with a curious look on his face, wanting to know exactly who she dated before, that's when she laughed upon looking back at it.

"Yeah, it was a few years ago. I was 18 at the time, my date was actually the Boy Wonder Robin, Y'know? Batman's sidekick? Or former sidekick now at least" she answered his question, his eyes widened a little at the realization of who she dated before.

"Wait, he goes by the alias Nightwing now right?" he asked.

"Yep... I still remember the date as if it was yesterday" she chuckled. Fueling Y/N's curiosity further. At the same time, the server came round with two glasses of sparkling water, setting it down on the couple's table as they both thanked server David before he walked off once again.

"Care to elaborate on what really happened that day?" he asked politely, even leaning in as he showed to her how interested he wanted to hear this story.

"Haha, well..." she rolled her eyes playfully with a smile...

"Gotta say... I thought he'd be interesting to have a chat with" Y/N spoke as he began cutting his Atlantic steak, put together with the potatoes he ordered.

"Don't get me wrong, we're on better terms now than before, even after that uh... Date" she spoke with gestured air quotations at the end of her sentence.

"Well... I know how it feels to be stared at, looked at with glances and so fourth while in a public place doing normal things while in costume? Yeah... I know how it feels" he spoke like he's had experience, before putting the fork in his mouth that had stabbed the steak and a potato earlier.

"Wait, you go out in public, doing normal human things while in costume? Don't you have a alter ego?" Kara asked curiously as she stabbed a bit of the pasta on her plate.

"Eh, yeah. About that, everyone knows who the EDC are, we don't use secret identities. And btw, you should see the aliens we have on our Earth. They're pretty much... Robots in Disguise" he gloated, making Kara almost spit out the pasta she had been eating in her mouth.

"What?! Are you saying that... Transformers exist on your Earth?!!" Kara almost shouted in shock.

"Shh!" Y/N shushed the Kryptonian Journalist. "Don't wanna blow our identities by shouting that!"

"Oh, sorry" Kara giggled. "I'm just... Surprised that they exist on your Earth, must be weird knowing they're fiction here" she then whispered.

"Yeah... It's pretty weird how they're just fiction here but not on my Earth" Y/N spoke from his perspective.

"Just asking... Does Optimus Prime exist? Or is he alive?" she asked, a glint of interest in her eye as she began eating again.

"Yep... He's real and alive. Megatron is too, well they're not enemies anymore. It's pretty much a joint op" he whispered back, making sure no one thought he was crazy or anything if they heard him. Meanwhile Kara was just too into it, wanting to know more now that more information was shared about his Earth.

'Megatron's a good guy now?' Kara thought along with being surprised, she's always seen him as the villain of the screens of TV shows, movies and so fourth.

"I'll explain more about it later. Right now? I want to hear more about your story" he was still interested in Kara's story, a glint now glistening in his eye as he continues eating.

"Oh, right... Now where was I?" Kara wondered loudly.

"You were at the part where you asked the waiter about your food" he told her.

"Oh right!" Kara remembered. "So..."

"Wait, wait pause"

*Record scratch*

"You're telling me... Some guy's pet monkey caused a truck, carrying bowling balls to crash into a concrete wall, bowling balls began spilling out, causing a bus to crash into a fountain filled with water along with causing an entire crash scene? And a monkey caused all that? The fuck?" he was all but baffled at this. It was too good of a story to be made up.

"I'm telling you! This is NOT made up! I'm 100% serious as I swear to Rao on this. This did happen" Kara really did want to believe this wasn't made up but... It wasn't. "Can I continue, please?"

"Sure, I'm already loving this story of yours already!"

"Ohh, talk about a bad date... That was a disaster for sure" he complimented.

"I know... Getting morally embarrassed by falling into a broken water fountain, having your suit soaked up and hair messy, only to come back and see that the food was cold... Yeah... Pretty disastrous if you ask me" Kara replied, finishing her meal as Y/N finished his.

"And I gotta say? That was a good story, along with that steak cause wow... Haven't had that in a long time" he licked his lips and sighed happily afterwards.

"Yeah, should've tried that pasta, it was pretty good" she giggled before mirroring what he did by licking her lips afterwards and sighing just like he did.

The two looked at each other before bursting out in soft laughter.

"Y'know? I saw the desserts here and... I really, REALLY want to try that 17 layer choco cake they have" he thought about it loudly.

"Oh desserts? Sure we can have a dessert, one caught my eye" she smirked before licking her lips.

She didn't realize she was staring at him when she said that which caused him to look surprised.

"Woah! Wow Angel, didn't think you'd mean it like that if that's what you meant" he then smirked, teasing her.

"W-What? Oh no no no, I wasn't m-meaning it l-l-like that" her face flushed red, realizing what she did as she giggled nervously.

"I know what you meant, just teasing ya" he winked, her blood flushed cheeks began dimming down as the server David came round.

"Hello you two, ready to pay the bill for the meals or are you both having a dessert?" David asked politely.

"Oh yeah! Uhh... I'll have a Sweet Cream Panna Cotta" Kara answered with a smile.

"What about you sir?" David asked Kara's date.

"17 Layer Chocolate Cake will do for me" Y/N politely answered back.

"Okay, it'll be out shortly once I've given the order to them. Hope you enjoy your desserts, someone will come round to hand the bill to you to pay" David informed the couple.

"Thank you David" It was Y/N turn to share his gratitude as the server smiled before walking off.

"Y'know, now that I think back to my story... I think that monkey's name was Bingo" Kara shared some new info about the story she recently told her date.

"Bingo? Huh? Cute name for a monkey" he complimented. "Like yours"

"Aww Sparks, I'm flustered" Kara's face glistened.

"Sparks? That my nickname?" he asked with a smile on his face.

"Might as well be!" she giggled.

Before long, their desserts would soon arrive at their table, with each individual cutlery.

Kara seemed to be enjoying her Panna Cotta as Y/N was enjoying his cake.

"Mmm, this cake is really good. Wow" Y/N gloated at the cake's taste, since it tasted like heaven.

"I'd say the same to this!" Kara put the spoon in her mouth as she tasted the sweet taste on the Cotta, hummed to say it was good... Too good.

"I got an idea" he said. Gaining the Kryptonians attention.

"Hmm?" She hummed, still eating what was in her mouth.

"How about we get a taste of each other's desserts? You taste mine, I taste yours? I know it's like a classic romantic dating thing, wanna try it?" he suggested as Kara thought about it.

"Hmm... Sure!" she went along, getting some Panna Cotta on her spoon with the cream and berries as her date does the same with his cake, only difference was that he had a fork.

Their mouths opened upon them feeding each other their own dessert on their respective cutlery before pulling it back as they began eating.

"Mmm... Oh waow" he spoke with a mouthful, the sweet cream, the berries, it was a perfect taste to his own taste buds. "Wow, that is definitely the taste of heaven" he complimented, enjoying the sweet taste... He always had a sweet tooth.

"Gotta say? The cake is amazing! Kinda wish I could steal the recipe... But that'd be criminal" she chuckled, enjoying the chocolate sensation from the cake, unlike any other cake she's had before, specially chocolate. "If they had ice cream? That would be great with that cake"

"Oh yeah! Definitely" he agreed. The couple giggling afterwards as they continued eating... But kept their eyes locked onto each other, smiles offered as they enjoyed their dessert together,

* *

"And then, he turned to me and said, we should prank her, she's always gotten me with her pranks" Y/N was telling Kara a story of his.

They had been walking through Central Park after their dinner date for at least 10 to 20 minutes now telling each other their stories and such, spending the rest of their date taking a walk through Central Park... Where couples usually did go to on their first date or two.

Earlier Kara informed him about the mask she accidentally destroyed upon their first encounter, she had successfully fixed it with Kryptonian metal and fabrics, using the Fortress's technology to repair it, which made Y/N ecstatic.

"Well, did you and Xalex prank her?" Kara was intrigued to know the rest, the both had been holding hands like before. Smiling like idiots.

"Yeah... Well... Before Xalex could do his master plan of pranking on Satine with using the old paint buckets that still had some pain left on em... He uh" he continued before trying his best not to laugh. "He dropped them on Liang instead, thinking it was Satine who was walking by" he burst out laughing, it was his first day at the EDC after Liang brought him in.

"Oh Rao" Kara laughed with her date. "I'm guessing he wasn't very happy about having paint splattered on him" she continued laughing with him.

"Oh yeah, he wasn't very happy at all, got caught and all, he didn't scold me but he scolded Xalex, the commotion gained the attention of everyone present, including some of the Autobots and Decepticons who were there. Bee asks me what happened, so I told him everything. It all reminds him of the Terrens who he taught a few years back" Y/N continued explaining the rest of the story.

The couple walked past a part of grass that had no trees blocking the view, which gave Kara an idea.

"Wanna stargaze? I can tell you more about Krypton and myself of course" she asked with a wink at the end.

"Yeah! Sure why not?" he reluctantly agreed, as they walked toward the same part of grass Kara spotted. "Wait... We don't have something to lie down on top of the grass" Y/N then spoke.

"Don't worry" Kara winked before speeding off and coming back in full costume and taking off her cape that billows behind her. "I have a solution to that" she giggled afterwards before setting down the cape.

"You sure you want to do this in costume? What if people walk by and see Supergirl sitting down with some random guy staring at the sky?" Y/N asked the question.

"Don't worry Sparks!" she took his hand. "No one really comes along this part of Central Park at night, they always say it's dangerous but really? It's not" she winked.

They sat down before lying down, their hands intertwined again as a smile was on their faces.

"Sky's beautiful tonight" Y/N said with a glistening in his eyes, the many stars that shined in the night sky, let alone the Moon that was visible through the clouds.

"Yeah, they're always beautiful at night here, from what I've seen" Kara agreed, a smile growing bigger on her face.

"So... I gotta ask... What was living on Krypton like? Before coming here and having those powers?" Y/N asked the question, she already knew he was going to ask it after all.

"Well... Krypton was... It was beautiful, the cities were filled with laughter and joy, there were many houses, I know you call them clans here on Earth so to speak" she answered.

"Speaking about clans, my ancestors are from an old clan that existed years and years ago" her answer reminded him of his heritage and where he came from, let alone, making him talk about it.

"Wait, really? Which one?" Kara asked.

"The Nobushi Clan, one that had the greatest warriors who were the first line of defence centuries ago" he answered her question. "Enough about me for now, I wanna know about your culture and stuff, I'm interested in it after all" he suggested to change the topic about her.

"Oh yeah, of course!" she immediately snuffed out the distractions. "The Houses we had were a family sigil, each had it's own emblem and what they stood for. Mine is the House of El as you already know, most of the House of El were apart of the Science Guild, where my biological father Zor-El and his brother Jor-El worked in" Kara spoke as her eyes laid upon a star that shined brighter than the others.

"Were you part of the Science Guild too?" Y/N asked curiously.

"Originally was planning to, yeah. My mother however was part of the Military Guild. Her house of the House of Ze, her name was Alura In-Ze. She was married to my father Zor-El... And then, they had me" Kara felt happy talking to someone about her culture's history, never did she think someone, a Human even, was interested in knowing about Krypton's history.

"What about the other houses?" Y/N asked.

"Well there's the House of Zod, home to ruthless warriors and defenders of Krypton, well... They were once... Before General Dru-Zod came along and led a coup against the council of Krypton. They want to make Earth the New Krypton but have failed many attempts since we got involved" Kara explained further.

"And where are they now?"

"Phantom Zone" Kara replied with a smug look on her face. "Hope they rot in there for all I care" a distaste in her mouth when she spoke about them.

"You really hate them, don't you?" Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, hate em with a passion, they Zod tried to manipulate my mother, she saw through his manipulation and in return tried to kill her. It failed" she answered, remembering that moment when she was eleven years old.

"Any other houses?" he asked, still wondering if there was many more since the only house he'd known was the House of El mostly.

"There's like many more, House of Ak, An, Am, Da, Dar... Do you want me to go through em all?" she asked politely, chuckling at the thought of going through all of them.

"Actually... Why not tell me them all later?" he suggested.

"That's fine with me" she smiled, as a star shoots through the sky.

"Look at that, a shooting star" he pointed out.

"Yeah! It's amazing!" her eyes glistened upon it, she's flown close to a shooting star before, and it's beautiful up close from her words.

"You had a God right? Rao it was called?" Y/N asked Kara next, gaining her interest.

"Yeah, we all... I wouldn't say worship but we all were religious. Rao was the sun God of Krypton, he had two children, Nightwing and Flamebird" she explained the history behind her God.

"Nightwing? Wait... Did Dick Grayson copy that?" he wondered loudly.

"Hahaha, that's what I thought at first, like I thought he took the name as inspiration, but he actually had no idea about it" Kara laughed.

Y/N laughed along with her, smiling as he tilted his head to look at her.

Kara noticed he was looking at her, and so... She looked at him, the two felt some connection once their eyes met. The calm wind blowing in the air as their eyes glistened at each other.

"When you... Wear that symbol" his free hand slightly touched the symbol on Kara's suit, she felt his hand touch her and let his touch feel the suit she wore. His eyes looking upon it before meeting her eyes once more. "Do you... Ever feel... Like the weight of the world is on your shoulders?" Y/N asked a very good question which surprised her at the slightest.

She always felt so alone in the universe after Krypton's destruction, finally arriving to Earth, only to find that her baby cousin was a grown up adult now.

She used to feel so angry at the world, at herself... At everything, she was hot-headed, a girl with anger issues, someone who couldn't accept Earth as their new home. She became a Red Lantern at the time because of her rage.

She told him all of this earlier, even so she'd get emotional about it all, but she's learned to talk about it without breaking down in tears or getting all emotional... Kandor did survive, but the same could not be said for Argo City, not her parents.

"Sometimes... It can be too much for me to handle, and to be honest? I... I don't know if I'm ready to be Earth's Champion if my cousin were to be gone somewhere... Or worse... Dead" Kara spoke with a saddened tone. "But I need to be strong for Earth, for my new family, without them? I don't even know where I'd be right now. Probably still angry at the world? I don't know? I've learned so much about Earth and... I once said that Humans were just... Beyond saving, that they waste their lives on nothing and such. And I still regret saying that" she out heartedly admitted.

She hated who she was after Krypton's destruction, just a girl who was angry at the world, wouldn't hesitate to fight or worse, kill anyone in her way, even her own cousin.

"But... Kal thinks I bring joy and happiness to those around me, that I've grown to be my own person, who carries hope like he does as Superman. And to be honest? He's not wrong" she smiled brightly, looking at her date while butterflies dance in her stomach.

"I agree... He's not wrong. Your smile is like a sunshine, and... You're an angel from the sky. You're beautiful Kara... One of the most beautiful girls I've met. I'm not great with girls, never tried getting into a relationship. But this? I... I really want you to be my first and only" he spoke before admitting his feelings. He felt like a weight was took off of him, his heart pounding in his chest as she picked up on it.

Her smile brightened further along with her face, she never felt this loving feeling in a while. "I want to try again, try a relationship again. Maybe... You're the one I really needed to find" she grinned.

The two began giggling and chuckling, a blush rising up their cheeks as the moment passes, smiles were offered, as they felt the romantic tension rising.

"I guess the House of El doesn't just mean... Hope, and all that. I guess it could mean... Love and Compassion too" Kara thought loudly, finding a new understanding go the symbol she's always worn since birth.

"I like the sound of that. Hope, Love and Compassion for all" he gloated, causing the girl to snicker.

"Sounds corny... I love it" she smiled.

"Me too" he smiled back.

The two then sat up before they began slowly closing the gap, their lips almost touched before Kara made the move, her hand touched his face as his reached the back of her head, gently caressing her golden hair.

The pair realized what was happening, they were having their first ever kiss, well... Kara's had a few kisses on the lips before, but for Y/N? It's his first time.

The pair melted into the kiss, Kara's other hand caressed face as she felt his other hand on her thigh.

She moaned softly as their kiss continued, their lips slowly dancing before Y/N pulled back for air slowly, setting up the mood of the situation.

"Wow... That... That's my first ever kiss, I've never kissed anyone on the lips before" Y/N admitted to a now giggling Kara Zor-El.

"For your first kiss? That was good" she complimented, making the boy blush a thank you. "Care to go again?" she asked.

"Gladly" he smiled, their lips touching again for a brief moment, her kiss was like the ocean breeze, he smiled into the kiss as it continued for a few moments before the two pulled back. "Kara... I uh... I spoke with Liang... About staying here" he then spoke afterwards, which Kara frowned at.

"Really? What did he say?" Kara was intrigued.

"So... I asked him and he... He had a feeling I would feel attached to this world, he knows what's happening right now and he understands why I want to stay on this Earth. He knows I have... Feelings toward you, though we just met a few days ago. Fair to say? I don't regret it" he smiled.

"You're staying here? Are you really sure you want to?" Kara asked with concern, knowing he might miss his home, despite there being talks about an agreement of an ally to call upon such if a situation requires the EDC's help. "Won't you miss your home?"

"Yes..." YN answered briefly before his eyes drifted back to Kara's baby blues yet again, "But I want to spend my life here, and meeting you has made me think that way... In other words... I want most of my days here, even with you. So... Liang thought it'd be a good idea for me to stay here, of course he still has to talk to the others about it first but... Honestly? I'm more than happy to stay here on this Earth, even if it's with you" a smile was still on his face before inevitably, Supergirl would start to smile. Never thinking he'd be allowed to stay.

"Oh Y/N, you-you didn't have to. But... That makes me happy, knowing you want to stay" Kara's smile brightened

The Multitasker smiled as he pulled himself in... Before they were interrupted by music happening in the distance, with people singing along the song.

A song named... Better Place by Rachel Platten, being performed by a woman with a beautiful voice, similar to the original singer... Maybe it is her? Happening at some musical stadium within Central Park.

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"There's some music going on. You hear that?" Kara asked.

"Yeah, I recognize the song" he smiled with an answer.

The song continued as they listened in, before Kara began swaying left to right slowly, the lyrics of the song catching up to her as she quietly sang along.

"Well" Kara began getting up before looking down at Y/N and offering a hand. "Care to dance?"

"Me? Dancing? I'm bad at it as it is" he chuckled.

"Just a slow dance, just keep your eyes on me and mirror my movements" she offered, a smile on her face as he took her hand, pulling himself up.

"Sure... Something for us to remember" he smiled as he stepped off Kara's cape before she picked it up and attaching it back on her suit behind herself, the cape draped perfectly over her shoulders.

The couple smiled as their bodies touched, holding hands together as they began to slowly dance to the song going on in the distance.

Their eyes locked onto each other as the pair slowly danced.

During this... The couple hadn't noticed someone watching them in the distance with a pair of binoculars, sitting on top of a building as he watched Kara dance with her date.

The man smiled as he watched and chuckled. "Atta girl, knew you'd find someone eventually" Nightwing spoke as he put away the binoculars before continuing his patrol, taking over for Supergirl tonight.

"There you go! You're getting the hang of it!" Kara spoke excitedly as he made her do a spin before catching her.

"Seems like I am" he chuckled before Kara turned round, looking at Y/N in the eyes.

"Wanna stay at mine tonight? I have room for one more on my bed" she smiled, her eyes glittering like the calm ocean.

"Wouldn't mind that, waking up beside you would be a dream" he teased, causing her and himself to giggle before continuing their dance.

Their dance would soon stop before their faces drew closer and softly touched at the song coming to a close, their eyes closing as Kara begins to float up in the air with her arms wrapped around Y/N. Her cape and hair blew softly in the wind as he felt her flying up into the sky.

Where their kiss would continue up in the skies of New York City.

Knowing he had truly Scored Supergirl's Heart of Steel...

* * *

Fin

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