#and so when heroes go around in their civilian ID trying to get a read on this meta runaway

[justwannabecat]

The one where having a secret lab in the basement is not as much of a red flag as it should be.

Because somehow, EVERY. SINGLE. ADULT. IN ALL OF AMITY. Have “secret” basements.

Sure, MOST of them have refitted them to act as emergency bunkers in case there’s another large-scale ghost attack, with rations and shields and blankets and all that, BUT. Even BEFORE the portal opened up, they were there.

Some of them were laboratories dedicated to one of many sciences. Some of them were just storage for the more concerning family heirlooms. At least one person kept the taxidermied bodies of each and every pet they had over their lifetime. Really, it was more odd for someone to not have some weird secret in their basement.

So when Danny ran from Amity and learned just how many people didn’t have strange, niche basements for their hobbies, he was a little put off. When he was eventually asked to stay with the Wayne family in Gotham, well, maybe he could have phrased it better.

How was he supposed to know that asking if they had a “super-secret basement either for your job, your personal life, or disaster prevention” would lead to them thinking he knew about their nightlife?

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 10

A/N: I’M SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT, Y’ALL😭💜 Life’s been busy, but it’s all good stuff (okay well, not all of it but like 90% of it cause life is life and it’s not perfect😂) Good news: book 2 is published, formatting for book 3 is well under way, and I love the job I started around the time of my last update😎 Bad news: I have no idea what free time is anymore (hence my overall disappearance from social media aside from scheduled posts and the dramatic decline in my interactions on here and the actual hellsites)😵

Warnings: reference to being stalked, deception, reference to anxiety, reference to potential murder, hidden identity, some swearing…I think that’s it?? If I missed anything, please let me know😊

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Supervillain wiped their hands dry on a kitchen towel without much thought to the action. Their mind was too preoccupied by Civilian.

More specifically, speculations about who their stalker might be wholly consumed their mind until their phone buzzing on the counter broke their concentration. Setting the towel aside, Supervillain’s brows drew together as they read the caller ID.

“And here I thought I’d have to call you,” they said quietly.

“Yeah, well,” Hero said, “it’s considered professional courtesy to keep each other informed, so don’t get used to it because once we find Civilian Surname’s stalker, this ends and I go back to investigating you.”

Supervillain hummed. “Then I suppose we needn’t drag this out any longer, because I’d rather not get too close to one of the Agency’s pawns.”

They didn’t have to see Hero to know the look on their face. They’d seen it plenty enough times when they’d goaded them in the past—truth be told though, that felt like another lifetime now. Supervillain’s smirk only grew sharper at the tension in Hero’s voice when they replied.

“Very funny,” they said, “but I have better things to do with my time than investigate something so—”

Supervillain’s smirk fell. “Hero, we had an agreement, you said—”

“And there it is.” The Hero’s grin was irritatingly audible, causing Supervillain to clench their jaw as they could see the expression as clear as day in their mind. “We do have an agreement, which is why I’m calling you in the first place. I just hope reminding you that this is a partnership for Civilian’s sake isn’t going to be a recurring thing because I do have better things to do with my time that isn’t rubbing elbows with a wanted criminal.”

Supervillain let out the breath they’d been holding in an effort to stop themselves from snapping at Hero. “What did you find?”

“That’s better. So anyway, I formally adopted the case and took a look, but as far as I can tell, the police investigation is as thorough as it can be. Whoever Civlian’s stalker is, they’re either a professional or have a little extra help, maybe both. I’ve gotta ask,” Hero started, taking a breath, “who are they again?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Supervillain mumbled. Pinching the bridge of their nose, Supervillain turned around and leaned against the counter. Just as they went to respond, a shadow of movement caught their attention. Their eyes flicked toward the movement in time to see Civilian quietly slinking into the living room and sitting back down by the fire. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see what I can find and have Right Hand send you what they’ve dug up thus far.”

“Wait, what do you me—”

Supervillain didn’t let them finish, hanging up and shoving their phone in their pocket.

Making certain their footfalls were heavy enough that Civilian could hear them coming but soft enough that they wouldn’t startle them, Supervillain joined them, sitting in their favorite armchair and offering them a smile.

“Feeling better?”

Civilian met their gaze. “Yeah, actually. I think I am.” They paused, glancing about uncertainly. Nibbling on their lip, Civilian’s eyes slowly gravitated back toward them. “Was that your contact, in the city?”

“It was,” Supervillain nodded. “They told me that they’ve started looking into your case and confirmed that the investigation conducted by the local PD was at least thorough.”

Civilian bobbed their head, though their face remained unchanged. Supervillain studied them curiously.

“So what does that mean for me?”

“Well…” Supervillain began hesitantly, “maybe you could help me? Do you mind if I ask you some questions about your life, your routine, the people you know, things of that nature?”

Civilian drew their knees up to their chest and wrapped their arms around them. They still looked exhausted, but behind their eyes was a spark. Supervillain wondered if that meant they were ready to start fighting instead of trying to outrun their stalker.

If so, that was good.

Better than good, it was perfect, actually.

Already, a plan began to bloom in Supervillain’s mind as they asked about anything that could help shed a light to help guide their own investigation.

***

Hero stared at their phone with a frown. Whoever Civilian was, they’d certain changed Supervillain. But now they knew Supervillain didn’t know Civilian Surname. That as much was true.

That’s what I’m trying to figure out, they’d said, sounding just as confused and in the dark as Hero was.

Over and over again, their question and Supervillain’s unguarded response echoed in their head. But it wasn’t as simple as who was Civilian Surname. What really mattered was, how?

How did Civilian catch their stalker’s eye? What made their stalker drawn to them? Where had they first seen Civilian? And when had they chosen to stalk Civilian? How many times had they seen them before that decision was made?

The place they’d first seen or had been in contact with Civilian was perhaps the most important in Hero’s opinion. If they could just narrow it down to that, then maybe they could narrow down a list of suspects specific to that particular facet of Civilian’s life.

Shaking their head, Hero pulled their coat back on and grabbed their keys. They’d just barely have enough time to pick up some coffee before their meeting with Detective…and still be five minutes early like Detective liked. So help the fool that that showed up late. Hero learned that the hard way one time. It didn’t matter that they’d stopped Other Villain from melting Central Museum’s vault and stealing the Precious Artifact worth millions on the black market that could’ve funded their world domination plan, all Detective had cared about was the disrespect they’d shown them by being late.

And so began the vicious cycle of Detective returning the courtesy by making Hero’s job as difficult as possible for the next two weeks until Hero finally decided to show up an hour early and sat and waited for Detective outside their office to get a records release form signed.

Hero hadn’t thought Detective would come around after that, but as it turned out they were both spitefully petty.

Ever since then, they’d had one hell of a working relationship and tight-knit friendship.

“Well, well, well, look who’s early. I wish all my caped partners were as punctual.”

Hero pressed a hand to their chest in mock offense. “Detective, are you working with other heroes behind my back?”

“What can I say,” Detective sighed, taking the coffee Hero offered them, “someone’s got to do your grunt work and we all know that when Other Detective does the paperwork, it’s never admissible in court because they don’t do it right.”

“Vigilante case fell through again?” Hero sat on the edge of Detective’s desk as they resumed their seat.

Detective groaned in response. “Don’t even get me started. It’s like they want the case thrown out.”

“Have you ever wonder—”

“Every. Single. Time.” Detective’s face turned to stone. Their eyes withdrew, focusing on whatever internal thoughts were flitting through their head.

“Well Supervillain owes me a favor,” Hero said quickly, taking an innocuous sip of coffee.

“What?” Detective shot up and slammed their hands on their desk, nearly toppling over their coffee cup and the precarious stacks of paperwork scattered across their desk. “You mean Supervillain, the most ruthless criminal that’s always one step ahead of the law and probably has dossiers on all of us, owes you a favor because you promised to help their precious civilian?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

Detective rolled their eyes. “Wow. So, Supervillian gave away one of the most powerful chips in the caped community—no, the entire professional world regardless of profession—to the likes of you.” Detective plopped back down in their seat with a crooked smile. “This has got to be the worst week of their career!” Detective sobered, “Well, this and when Partner dropped off the face of the earth. That’s another one I can’t seem to find. It’s like they’re a ghost.”

Hero’s brows furrowed. They dropped their gaze to the floor. “They’re probably dead. I’ll bet all I have that Supervillain killed them and that’s why you can’t find a body. There probably isn’t one, if Supervillain’s reputation is anywhere near accurate.”

Detective threw their head back laughing.

“You’re probably right! There’s no way Supervillain would let someone, anyone, walk away. I guess you’ll just have to do a little digging for me while you’re working with them to catch Civilian’s stalker.”

“I’ll do my best, but no promises, Detective.”

“And that’s what I like about working with you,” they said, motioning for them to hand over the copies of Civilian’s files Hero had made up for them. “You don’t have a super-inflated ego or think that I’m somehow lesser than you just because I haven’t got a cape and mask and glowing hands or whatever.”

“Superhero again?”

“YES!” Detective burst, “If the media knew half the shit I do about them, they’d drag Supes through town square like they deserve.”

“Or I could make sure back up shows up a little late and they take a few more punches to the face from Other Supervillain?”

“I would love that,” Detective smiled, scanning the pages before them. “This is it? This is all we have to work with?”

Hero nodded. “Supervillain said they’d have Right Hand send over what they’ve got so far.”

“It’s a start, I guess,” Detective grumbled, “If we manage to find their stalker and bring them to justice, it’ll be nothing short of a miracle.”

Hero didn’t bother to agree. Whatever Supervillain was scheming in order to catch Civilian’s stalker, they only hoped it ended the whole affair sooner rather than later, like before anyone had a chance to connect the dots.

The Lair in the Woods Taglist: @just-a-space-rabbit @classicplesiosaur @pigeonwhumps @heninthegarden @kaiwewi @korejon @rivalriotrenegade @alpacamelons @averyconfusedhuman @amerementdoux @istealpants @sweetpeaflower01 @theimportantbreadtraveler Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed (no reason necessary😊)! You can also fill out this handy dandy form if you’d like to be added too!

[jesncin]

5 days long anon again. Yeah, it took a while because I kept reworking and trying to find the right words. words are hard. Plus anxiety. Constantly worrying if it would be right or sound right. Right now I'm riding the high of "it WAS fine!!" so I'm feeling more confident in sending this.

The whole "oooh superhero lied to someone how bad" when it's about their identity? One thing I clipped from the previous ask was talking about how of course a hero should not disclose their civilian ID because that would put any family or friends in danger. A reporter SHOULD understand that! Or at least a kind one. Of course Clark wouldn't be going around telling people if only because he wants to keep his parents safe. Yet you can't look me in the face and tell me that the Kents wouldn't be leery about telling people their son's origins as an alien regardless of when the story is set because technically? Illegal immigrant baby. Illegal immigrant alien baby, whom any spooky group (military/research/???) might want to get their greasy mitts on. I can see that kind of worry leaving marks on him too, even though he is trying to be kind and good.

Maybe it was "too soon" but Kal-el is talking to someone he's grown to know as both Clark Kent and Superman. Who he feels he can take that risk with. And with something... not small, exactly, but not as harmful to his life as he lives it on Earth? It's not quite a test of trust because that would be too calculated for it but it is something more honest and raw and the little voice in the back of the head going "do you understand? do I understand?".

"I've had to justify fanon to canon" is... odd. Have you had to with the Martians or is it specifically your take on Lois? I admit I haven't been able to read all the comics and random sketches yet but everything I've seen has been built on the trend of compassion and care whether it is for it or in spite of it. ...and sexy abs. (Rudy.)

Run out of steam/focus so hope you have a good night again.

Hiya 5 days anon (Here I am responding now after the strike)! And no worries, I appreciate people taking their time thinking of what to say.

Right! Even without any Superhero-level fantasy stuff- irl journalists write under pseudonyms or protect the privacy of the people they're interviewing all the time (Lois did this in Girl Taking Over!!). This notion that reporters are Kantian "Lying Is Always Bad No Matter What" people is frankly a caricature. Fun for silver age shenanigans, but not if you want your story to have any sort of depth. And yeah! Clark is an illegal immigrant baby. It shouldn't take much imagination to see why he and the Kents would want to keep that a secret (alas some stories think otherwise- I can't help but call the emotional intelligence of the characters into question at that point).

Yeah! I don't imagine Superman telling Lois his Kryptonian name as something pre-meditated, it's very spur of the moment trust. The idea is that he's not ready to disclose his civilian identity yet, but he is trusting Liando with something far more personal.

It's mostly been my Superman stuff. I don't post my Martian art on twidder especially since well. I've always gotten one or two racist comments on my Clois comics but the Private Interview comic just unleashed the floodgate for racist comments. If I get that much heat for a cishet interracial couple, you can imagine how gross people would be to my Martian stuff. There's a portion of cape fandom that just doesn't understand fanon or interpretations and are vehemently against any sort of change. So I get silly comments asking me to justify the change ("Why is Lois Black??") or backhanded compliments hailing me as "the exception to racebends". It's annoying, but in the end the comic really wasn't for them. It's for people like y'all who get it! (like Rudy)

Thank you and good day/night!

[dizzydesi53]

Knock Knock Knock

She's a hero! my mate's a hero! I was so shocked when I smelled summer wind and honeysuckle in the middle of a villain attack. my first instinct was to look for her among the hurt civilians and protect her. I still want her as far away from villains as possible. luckily I stuck a feather with her so I can easily find her.

she's stubborn and I still don't understand why I have no effect on her. She sure seems to have an effect on me though. I flew out away from her to my penthouse, I was sweating and dizzy. I crashlanded on my balcony my legs shaky.  fucking hell, she started my rut early!

~

I completely ignored the offer or rather the demand of me to work with Hawks. he has no way of finding me unless he sees me as Moxie. he doesn't know my last name or where I live so I'm safe. I can't believe the audacity of that pigeon, ordering me around! jerk!

I spent the weekend doing my chores, grocery shopping cleaning my apartment and paying bills. Monday rolls around and I don't hear anything from the chicken fry so I assume he's forgotten me. what a lucky break! he's probably bothering some other unlucky girl, good riddance!

....then why do I feel a slight pang of sadness at the idea of him with someone else? I don't even like him!.... I don't.

By Friday I've mostly forgotten him, I'm home from patrolling around 5 and I'm stuck doing laundry. I'm out of clean underwear, that's how bad things are in regard to laundry!...well except for my 'special' drawer.

Knock

Knock

Knock

I practically jump out of my skin. it's coming from my balcony! I'm on the 20th floor. I pull my curtain back only to be met with golden eyes and that annoying smirk. I'm not letting him in! I guess he could read that on my face because he held up his phone with the number to a well-known reporter lit up on the screen.

"open or else."

bastard says it in a singsong voice. sighing I open the door backing as far away as possible, always keeping furniture between us.

"How did you find me?"

from under my shirt on the twine id put it on his red feather pops up, moving independently. I blushed, I hadn't wanted him to know I kept that. I found it while fixing my costume the other day, it was such a pretty vibrant color! I didn't have the heart to throw it away so I made it into a neckless.

"I can hear everything around my feathers. I always know where they are."

he smirked and his eyes smoldered. he looked me up and down, his face a mask of lust that had me backing closer to the front door.

"so you like my feather?"

"I never said that! why are you here?"

trying to distract him, or get him to leave. I'm not very comfortable having him here in my apartment. he seems to take up all the space in the room, which I find a smidge intimidating.

"ready for your new job? I'm here to take you to your new digs too"

"excuse me! I never agreed to work with you and what do you mean by new digs? I'm not moving anywhere!"

"Sure you are! it's part of the job. and why wouldn't you want to work with the number 2 hero? it could open up so many opportunities for your hero career. are you scared?"

this bastard! I glared at him. he knows that that little remark is basically a challenge. a challenge I can't ignore. how does he know me so well after meeting me twice?

"it's only for a month. give me one month and after that, you can go on your way."

"It's just a job to me so what's it to you? you don't really need me so why are you so set on me working with you?"

this whole time he's inched closer and closer while I'm backing away from him, why can't I just stand my ground with him? This is now the third time I'm running away from him. I finally hit the wall next to my front door only for him to quickly box me in. caging me in my own home, making me feel vulnerable.

"I looked into your background and found out you're not an omega. your one of the rare 2% that doesn't really have instincts. this way I have a month to convince you that you're my mate, and I'm yours. what've you got to lose? it's just a month, can't handle it?"

his face was so close I could see the pattern of his irises. his breath blew across my face making it hard to concentrate my thoughts scattered my brain fuzzy when he got so close I could smell his cologne. it was a woodsy summery smell that reminded me of days at a lake. his eyes glanced down to my lips, so naturally my eyes were drawn to his lips. I suddenly thought about what his lips would feel like, what he would taste like, with perfect clarity.

"smell's good."

his lips ghosted over mine, my thoughts further and further away. heat swirling in my stomach, butterflies too. I could feel my skin prick with goosebumps

"What does?"

he whispered, his lips grazing over mine, moving with each word setting off sparks and fireworks that moved over me settling in my stomach with the heat. I gasped. My brain shortcircuited and I answered the question honestly.

"you."

his eyes lit up, sparkling with something I couldn't name, he groaned and swooped in, kissing my lips aggressively. pushing his tongue in making me taste him while he played with my tongue. I heard myself moan and my arms went around him without my permission, my fingers threading thru his blond hair.

he groaned into the kiss and moved his body closer to mine so that I was now pinned between him and the wall. his hands gripped my hips and slid down my thighs till he had both pried open and wrapped around his waist. I was snapped out of the fog in my brain when he ground himself between my legs. his erection hitting my clit even thru my jeans. I whimpered and then jerked away from the kiss.

"stop!"

his lips trailed down my throat, nipping the skin and then licking the sting away. he groans and then with visible reluctance pulls back. he looks into my eyes, his pupils are blown and his chest is rumbling. my cheeks flush at the realization of what I just let him do. he groans again, laying his head against my shoulder.

"I'm not apologizing, that kiss was amazing, but if you don't want me to continue until you're a writhing panting mess underneath me, then you should go pack some clothes so I can take you to your new apartment."

I couldn't help the gasp that left me at the lewd images his words invoked. I raced to my room closing the door to hide and calm down. am I really going to put myself in this dangerous position just because he challenged me and then gave me arguably the best kiss of my life?

god, I'm dumb!

[memeyqueenybeany6996]

The Teaching Assistant

~Prologue~

"isn't that.." "Shh, she might hear you." "Who cares do you think she can introduce us to her brother?" "Don't even try, her brother doesn't even look her way anymore, not since the incident." "What incident?"

Amelia sighs as she just ignores the blatant stares and whispers as she stops in the coffee shop in hero costume.

*Fuck my life.* She thinks to herself as she pays for her drink and heads out of the cafe not wanting to stay any longer.

*It's always like this, especially now that HE is fighting for rank 2 spot now. All my mistakes in hero work, how I hold myself, how I talk, walk, E V E R Y T H I N G.*

The red haired woman with an oversized Hoodie and utility belt around her waist walks down the busy streets of New York, sipping her coffee as she goes, heading back to Beam Line Agency, which is owned by her brother.

No one really bothers her, it's not too often shes recognized, which is a blessing in her opinion. She isn't too much of a people person, she's too socially awkward. But she works her butt off and mask it well enough on the job.

The incident was a rookie mistake she did 6 years ago when she was 20. She almost got herself killed and a few civilians, all because she wasn't strong and fast enough. She was lucky her brother got there when he did, but it costed him multiple surgeries and physical therapy sessions to even regain the ability to walk and run again. She thought she could handle it, she was so wrong. Now she has to live with a slightly fractured relationship with her brother who has a major over protection streak and became a massive asshole.

But she can't blame him.. she did almost ruin his whole life. Though her cat, Stubby, always writes and tells her it wasn't her fault, after all who would have believed a rookie there was a terrorist attack going on? Her superior told her to investigate if she was "so sure". If anything it was that guys fault.

Oh yeah you heard correctly her cat writes to her. Insane as it sounds he can hold a pen with his tail and write, though the writing is.. bad, not that she would ever tell her best friend that!! Oh yeah, that three legged, one eyed cat is her best friend. Which is kind of sad if you think about it. With how everyone wants to get close to her brother, to his influence, the easiest target would be to befriend or even date her. She has no.. real friends, the ones she has were caught trying to sleep with her brother and it was quickly discovered they didn't care for her at all.

Her brother Miguel, always calls her to trusting for her own good, to naive. It makes her sick to hear those words.. it's hard to read people for her, to tell what someone's real intentions are, probably due to a bit of autism she has. It makes it difficult for her to read people and social cues, especially sarcasm unless it's covered in it.

To be completely honest, her brother.. use to be nice until he became really famous, then he.. he changed. Became a asshole, he even told her she should quit being a hero cause he wouldn't always be there to save her, like she's some damsel in distress! Amelia Tano is a hero, a hero I tell you! She is strong in her own right! She's pro hero Mercy, the medic hero! Saving thousands of people each year with her quirk and her skills she learned hopping onto the two years nursing course she took after graduating hero school.

Amelia enters the tall building, her brothers agency. This building could almost be called a skyscraper with 20 something floors to it plus a giant basement with a 15 car garage underground. She heads to the elevator as she scans her ID and pushes the apartment floor. Which is floor 18 through 23, she's on floor 19.

It's less than a minute ride up to her apartment floor and she exits and heads to her room, again scanning her card and entering in and shutting the door, which she slumps again sighing.

She gets out of her slump quickly kicking off her shoes by the door and placing her now empty coffee cup in the trash can as she enters the kitchen area.

"Stubby I'm home!" She says in her usual soft tone though it's a bit louder than usual as she yells this out above normal volume.

It's not long with the pitter patter of pawed feet is heard and soon enough a three legged, one eyed, white cat hops onto the kitchen counter, purring loudly at her as she gets food out for the both of them, but not placing the note book with a pen on the counter before she prepares breakfast for the both of them.

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting all night, I honestly didn't expect my brother to request back up from well.. me, last night." She says to her furry friend

The sound of a pen on paper is heard, when she finally has food and turns around to put both plates of chicken she just heated up for the two of them on the counter.

She reads the paper which said, 'was he grateful?'

She snorts a little as she rips a piece of chicken off and pops it in her mouth, "you've known me and my brother for how long? He'd rather shoot his foot or fight a villain than admit I managed to help him, especially after telling him to stop telling me I should just quit heroing all those years ago." She complains a little to her friend.

The white furred cat rolls it's single eye  before writing on the paper, 'dont remind me, I thought maybe he wouldn't be a dick to you for once, considering you dropped your one night off to help him with this mission.'

Amelia's red eyes soften, "yeah.."

It's silent for a few moments longer as the sound of chewing takes over for a few minutes before Amelia takes the plates and starts washing them.

She sighs again and says, "maybe.. I should move out or something. Move to a different state, get out from my brother constant shadow. I'm sure there are plenty of other states needing heros and, ya know me! I don't exactly care for fame or fortune though money is always nice hehe~" she giggles cutely for a moment before her face falls, she looks at the wall across the kitchen and it has some pictures.

Most of them are with her older brother when they were younger, and her first day becoming a hero. There's nothing new or recent on the wall besides the pictures of her and Stubby.

*It's.. all my fault.. if I wasn't so useless.. maybe we could have stayed close.*

Unknown to her, Stubby watches her, and his yellow eye narrows and intrigued at her words. This is his human, and as many as much as he tried to understand human dynamics he can't ever understand the reason why her older brother would be so mean, he's nice one minute then making her feel completely shitty the next. Keeping her under his thumb like that's gonna protect her.

*Amelia.. I'll do my best to get you someplace better than here, you deserve a place to flourish without people who work for your brother or admire him so much stopping you. it's about time I reach out to my old friend.* Stubby thinks as he watches his human take her face mask off and place it on the cabinet and heads to her room to shower.

He rips the paper out he just wrote on out of the note book by his teeth, and begins to write..

AUTHORS NOTE

Here's what the lovely Amelia's hero costume it's one of those sleeveless hoodies!

I'm hoping your liking this so far.

[corruptedconfessions]

hi hi! i’m the anon who asked for the escaping shigaraki, dabi & aizawa. i’m not sure if i added this, but how would they react to their s/o escaping initially? what methods would they use to find them and how would they prevent their s/o from escaping again? (sorry for the bother fksbdksnkdns)

The initial ask I already answered is here! Id recommend reading it first for a better idea of how I headcannon things playing out

TW: Very brief vague rape mention, kidnapping, hints at public sex

Aizawa (canon):

Initially Aizawa doesnt fully register that you have escaped, he's use to you playing a game of cat and mouse with him every time he comes home. Ignoring his calls to you and forcing him to search for you and drag you out of whatever hiding spot you cram yourself into in order to force get some cuddle time with you. Honestly you probably get an extra 30 odd minutes to get even further away before he realizes your gone, maybe more if you cover up how you got out. He'll keep looking for you, dread building in his stomach as playful almost lazy calls turn more desperate, aggressive, frantic. He wont fully realize until he find the broken window latch, the one that was less locked down since he liked to come in through that window after patrol instead of bother with unlocking the 8+ locks on the front door.

From there he'll fully panic, something that is rare for him. Full out screaming your name, tearing the apartment apart searching for you, screaming curses and promises of punishment if you dont come out RIGHT NOW Once he gets out of the apartment to start chasing after you, though, he is almost deadly calm. He's incredibly good at this, half of his job is hunting down criminals and villains so he has it down to routine. He'll have you back in his arms in no time Aizawa (A/B/O):

Unlike Canon Aizawa Alpha Aizawa notices your absence much, much quicker. Only one quick check through the apartment and he can tell your scent is stale, faint enough that he knows you can't be anywhere in the apartment. It takes everything in him not to start shredding everything around him in a fit of instinctive panic. Terror and anxiety are pumping through him at the thought of you being out there alone without him! You could've already gotten hurt, or worse.

He'll burst out of the apartment instantly, running down the street as he frantically tries to find your scent and follow it through the muddled confusing mix of the streets and alleyways surrounding his apartment. He's aggressive, frantic, completely forgetting his hero training. People immediately get out of his way, desperate to avoid the near feral looking alpha hunting the streets, practically dripping pheromones everywhere. It takes him several moments to calm down, masking his scent once he realizes that he is scaring people off and bringing more attention to himself. He cools only slightly as he starts stalking, following his nose through the alleyways you took to escape him

He will get you back. And he'll kill anything or anyone that gets in his way.

Shigaraki (Canon and A/B/O):

Shigaraki's reaction is plain and simple, regardless of if he is an alpha or not. It is pure and utter destruction. The second he realizes that you are gone, that you have escaped, that he can have you right this very second like he wants to. Well, lets just say no one is safe from the rampage that follows him. The damage to the base they were in when he found out was unrepairable. Your escape is inevitably followed by a mountain of corpses, a temper tantrum by the man who calls himself your lover, your alpha. It takes the entirety of the league (and maybe a word in from his beloved master) to force him to wait to get you back, to be careful and cautious as immediately every tool at the disposable of the league is aimed towards finding you. He doesn't immediately go on the biggest murder spree he can in order to get your attention, in order to scare you back into his arms, but the number of civilian casualties jumps until your...safe return.

Alpha Shiggy however...absolutely nothing will stop his temper tantrum until his mate is back in his arms. He'll immediately storm himself to the busiest, most civilian dense place he can find and just starts...disintegrating people. He leaves the media alone, demanding they keep rolling as he kills person after person, refusing to let anyone escape, showing no mercy to any hero, woman, child...not until you come crawling back into his arms begging for mercy.

Dabi (canon):

When he first comes back to an empty apartment, your quivering crying form absent from where you usually were huddled on the dirty mattress on the floor his first reaction is pure amusement, a dark smirk crossing his face as he steps further into the apartment. "That sneaky little bitch"

From there he gets...excited. Things were getting boring having you shaking and crying all the time, barely throwing out week punches at him when he bent you over to take you. But this...this could be fun~

Already his mind swirls with ideas for how to draw it out as long as possible, how hes going to find you and make you regret ever trying to run from him. He wont drag you home, oh no, that would be too easy. He is going to break you

Dabi (A/B/O):

His reaction is quite simple...Pure and terrifying rage. That little apartment he was oh so nice to keep you in because you whined about the league scaring you? Burned to the ground in an instant. He'll scream, curse, frothing at the mouth as he burns everything to the ground, continuing long after there is nothing but burnt ashes surrounding him.

The second he can breathe again, once the red that blinded his vision fades he'll be off, leaving a burning line of destruction behind him as he hunts you down. You wont last long, he has the nose of a blood hound, able to follow your scent even through the smoke. Besides, you cant last very long if you can't breathe, now can you? You poor, poor little thing. He's played the nice guy so far but now he's ready to show you exactly who you belong to in front of everyone. Hell! Maybe he'll even make sure the media gets a nice close in zoom on you as he pins you down in the ash of burnt buildings and bites you right there. Chase out any thoughts of escaping or belonging to anyone else for good, yeah?

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Writing Snippet #10

O Positive

Part 2

Ok so @im-a-wonderling had a FANTASTIC idea for a snippet, but I’m putting the ask below to not cause spoilers lol:)

Special thanks to @im-a-wonderling as well for the beta read, edits, suggestions, and expert medical knowledge to help make this way more realistic than my original draft! You’re amazing!!!

—————————————————

Hero shifted from side to side as she stood in line, fingers clutching a bottle of orange juice.

“Well you’re prepared.” Hero’s head shot up as the attendant waved her forward. “Normally people wait until after to go for the juice.”

She chuckled nervously. “That’s me... prepared.”

“ID?” She scrambled through her wallet, making sure she didn’t grab either of the two aliases she’d already used at different locations that morning.

She would have used the same ID, but last time she’d tried to explain that she healed super fast- a result of her powers- and could donate more, the resulting argument had lasted nearly an hour, with nurses questioning whether her “magic blood” could even be used at all (it was perfectly normal blood thank you very much), and they’d still only let her donate the normal amount.

She handed him the correct ID, and he shoved a clipboard full of paperwork at her. A phlebotomist led her to a reclining chair. Even though she’d filled out the information twice that morning, it still took approximately twelve years to finish the stack of forms. The phlebotomist returned, and began asking her an equally long list of questions. She only half paid attention to the stream of questions.

Have you received any blood transfusions?

No.

Have you traveled in the last 6 months?

No.

Are you free of HIV or any other blood diseases?

Yes.

Have you ever been pregnant?

Yes.

Wait! No!

The phlebotomist chuckled as she snapped on a pair of gloves. “Ok let’s see that arm.” Hero held out her mark-free arm. After the first donation that morning, the needle mark and resulting bruise had been gone in a matter of minutes. After the second, she’d had to wait over thirty minutes before the signs of her deception to fade. The phlebotomist wrapped a tourniquet above her elbow before consulting her paperwork.

“It says here you’d like to do a double donation?”

“Yes.”

“You have to be 150lbs in order to donate that much sweetie.” The older woman eyed Hero dubiously.

Her throat went dry. “I know. I am.”

“I’m just going to take one bag today; you’re looking a little pale, honey.”

“But the other phlebotomist let me—”She cut off and cleared her throat. “I mean, last time I donated. It was fine.”

The phlebotomist shook her head as she felt the inside of Hero’s arm for the vein.

Hero forced a cheery smile. “This is important. I’ll be fine.”

By tomorrow, she added silently. Or the day after that...

Last time she’d only been able to get in one regular and one double donation before she’d gotten called into help with a work emergency. She’d spent the rest of the day in bed, but had woken up fine the next morning. Of course, that was only half the amount of blood...

The woman narrowed her eyes before shaking her head.

“The shortage is the worst it’s been in years, but I’m only going to take one bag today.”

“But—”

“Unless you’d like to go stand on that scale over there?”

Hero blanched, then mutely shook her head.

The woman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I thought not,’ before raising her voice to a normal volume. “And make sure to take it easy and drink that orange juice you’ve got there.” She nodded at the bottle in Hero’s hand as she swabbed her arm with an alcohol wipe and picked up a needle.

“I will.”

————— 30 minutes (or so) later —————

Hero made it ten steps out of the building before she collapsed against the wall, head swimming. She peeled the tape and cotton ball off her arm. Blood immediately began to trickle down her forearm.

She struggled to unscrew the cap of her juice, hands shaking. Finally, she succeeded, the cap slipping through her fingers and bouncing against the sidewalk. She brought the bottle to her lips, but only managed a few sips before her stomach revolted. She clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, willing herself not to throw up.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the curious stares from pedestrians on the crowded downtown street.

She needed to get home.

A quaking boom shook the ground, and Hero cracked open her eyes to see a plume of smoke a few blocks over.

Most likely the bank on main. Or the diamond store next door.

She took a step towards the plume of smoke, but the ground was still rocking, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from the explosion. She closed her eyes as panicked civilians began running to and fro.

Her phone rang out in a pealing tone, sending her a foot into the air, her orange juice falling to the ground with a sticky splash.

The emergency line.

Groaning, she accepted the call.

“Hero! Villain just set off a bomb on Main Street.”

“Diamonds or bank vault?”

“BOTH! You need to get over there now!”

Hero covered her eyes. She wanted to, she really did. If only the ground would stop moving.

“It’s my day off. Send Other Hero.” She cringed at her seemingly callous words, but she didn’t think the Hero Agency would exactly condone what she’d just done.

Even if she was just trying to save lives.

“Other Hero is undercover spying on Supervillain. Your phone shows you are six blocks away. That will take you 12 seconds to get your speedy butt over there.”

A second explosion rocked the ground.

Oh he didn’t. Hero growled, pushing off the wall and taking a hesitant step forward.

The ground was finally still. Much better. She pulled out the spare mask she always kept in her purse and fitted it across her eyes.

12 seconds, she scoffed.

————— 9 (and a half) seconds later————

Hero skidded to a halt in front of the shattered front windows of Pristine Diamonds.

The windows of the bank next door were in a similar condition. She rested a hand against the ash stained wall, gasping as the world spun.

She forced her head up, scanning the scene. A gaping hole had been blown in the wall connecting the two businesses, and smoke was still pouring out of both buildings. She darted into the diamond store, moving without her super speed through the black air. She made it to the back of the store, where the massive safe stood empty, the door hanging drunkenly off one hinge.

She cursed and made her way to the jagged hole. She was halfway across the bank lobby when a figure leapt from the smoke and she was thrown to the side.

She scrambled to her feet as Villain faded back into the smoke. His laughter echoed around her as she spun in desperate circles. The smoke thickened until it was nearly solid around her.

“You’re slow today, Hero.” The voice rang out behind her, and she whirled around, but there was nothing but smoke.

Her vision was truly swimming now. She swiped at her eyes. “And you’re extravagant. You can create smoke from nothing, you didn’t actually need to set off a bomb.”

“I was creating a passage between the businesses. They should thank me.” The voice was to her right, and she spun again. There was no point in super speed if she couldn’t see. Her head was starting to pound.

“And that outfit.” The whisper brushed against her neck, and she whirled around again, only to see the smoke curling in around the place where Villain had just stood.

She glanced down self-consciously at her pink shorts and baggy tie-dye T-shirt.

“You already ruined my day off. There’s no need to mock my clothes as well.” She huffed, taking determined strides in the direction she hoped was the door.

“Who said I was mocking?”

She sensed him behind her the instant before he attacked. She spun. He hit. She flew. Across the room. To the floor. Over chunks of rubble. And into a brick wall.

Her back cracked against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs.

Smoke swirled through the air as Villain emerged, the dark tendrils receding to lap at his heels.

He looked surprised; he’d never actually managed to land a blow that direct before.

Hero forced herself off the ground. It was time to retreat. She summoned her powers, but between her swimming head and the sharp pain in her leg, she made it only a few feet before sinking back to the ground with a quiet whimper of pain.

She forced her blurry gaze up to Villain, who was regarding her with a strange expression on his face.

“I thought you healed as fast as you can run.”

She blinked, and realized he wasn’t looking at her, but at her leg.

She looked down. Blood seeped from a long shallow gash on the outside of her calf, no doubt from a sharp piece of rubble.

Smaller cuts and bruises covered the rest of her body, and none of them were healing.

“That’s strange.” She wiped clumsily at the cut.

Villain’s eyes narrowed. “You seem oddly off your game, Hero. You haven’t lost that much blood.”

She mustered the energy to glare at Villain. “I did tell you this was my day off.”

“I wonder if it’s from the blood earlier.” She mused, floating on a hazy cloud.

The tendrils of smoke scattered as Villain knelt down beside her.

“What blood? You came to fight me when you were already injured?”

His voice sounded as though he was speaking through a tunnel.

“There’s a national blood shortage. Worst it’s been in years.”

“So?”

“So, I donated.”

Villain scoffed as he produced a cloth from somewhere and began wrapping it around her leg. “You have regenerative healing powers, a pint of blood wouldn’t have made you this weak.”

Hero shook her head and weakly held up five fingers.

Villain froze. “FIVE PINTS OF BLOOD!” He roared, smoke dancing angrily around them. “ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY INSANE!? YOU SHOULD BE DEAD RIGHT NOW!”

Her head throbbed with every word, and she flinched away.

“I heal fast.” It was barely a whisper, but his fiery eyes met hers.

“I don’t care how fast you heal. No one can survive losing half their blood.” At least now his rage was contained to a low snarl. He grabbed Hero’s hands and pulled her to her feet.

“Your hands are freezing! What were you thinking!? Why would you face me after donating that much blood?!? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

He continued to seethe as he swept Hero into his arms and strode through the bank. He paused only to swing a bulging duffle bag onto one shoulder before he swept out through a second gaping hole into a back alley. A dark SUV was waiting in the shadows. He tossed the bag into the back and slid Hero into the passenger seat.

She curled against the warm leather.

“I was just trying to help.” She mumbled, her voice muffled as she spoke into the headrest.

“I know.” A hand ran down her hair. “Close your eyes. Sleep.”

She forced her eyes wider, remembering. “I can’t. I have a job to do.”

Villain shut her door and rounded the car to the driver’s side. Slipping into place, he started the engine.

“Not today.” He managed a small smile even as his eyes crinkled in concern.

“It’s your day off, remember?”

Original request from @im-a-wonderling:

“I started thinking about a story where the hero donates blood and then the villain does something that the hero has to go and face them. The villain notices the hero is off their game, but assumes they’re just tired or something. Then, the hero gets injured. The injury is really minor in terms of blood loss, but the hero is pale and sickly and can’t stand up and the villain gets all protective like “WHY would you come and FACE ME if you DONATED BLOOD today?!” And the hero mumbles “They’re having a blood shortage.” And the villain is ready to wring the hero’s neck for not taking care of themselves. So they just scoop the hero up in their arms and brings them back to their lair to feed them and let them sleep.”

Again thanks so much for the request!! I hope I did it justice:)

[whump-a-la-mode]

Nemesis - Choose Your Own Whump 2

With A receiving the most votes on my last post, for this adventure we are going with a drugged Villain whumpee. Sorry about the generic name for this one, I really couldn’t think of anything else ^^

I hope you enjoy, and thanks to everyone for replying to the last post! As always, votes can be sent in through any method you want. Comments, asks, and PMs are all just fine. I’ll see it!

CW//Falling off a building, hostage situations, shapeshifting, medical abuse, extensive talk of sedatives, brief mention of a needle

Please note that the third scene of this piece is from the point of view of a drugged character, and thus the scene has some aspects that could be described as unreality. Please skip this scene if this would make you uncomfortable.

The video was grainy.

It was always grainy. That was the strange thing about it-- everyone carried around miniature computers in their pockets, equipped with tiny cameras that would have rivaled the most powerful devices of years prior. Any civilian could take a 4k quality video on some social media, but the moment anything actually important was happening, technology seemed to regress twenty years.

Hero supposed it didn’t matter. Their memory of the incident was certainly clear as day, better than any camera could ever capture.

And yet...

They clicked a button on the remote, and the clip restarted.

The sides of the screen were blocked out in fuzzy grey-- the video having been taken through the bars of a metal fence. Between them, the camera focused at first on the foot of a brown brick building, before panning upwards, only stopping upon reaching the roof. It took a moment for the visual to adjust, focusing against the glare of the sun overhead.

Two figures, on the building’s roof. Two figures seen so often together, in so many similar videos.

The standoff had taken from dawn till sunset. How Villain had gotten into the building unnoticed had yet to be fully understood, but, regardless of method, they wasted little time in taking hostage a group of professors, eating lunch together. A single one had been released, bringing with them a message:

“Everyone leaves. No one comes in. Everyone stays outside the fence.”

It had seemed like a trap, at first. Of course it had. It wouldn’t be the first time that Villain had played such a trick. After much debating, however, evacuation was deemed to be the best option, and the campus was soon barren.

The hours afterwards had been as long and hot as they had been nerve-wracking. The very thought of following orders from Villain made Hero’s stomach twist, but their orders were incredibly clear: Don’t do anything stupid.

It was an incredibly difficult order to follow.

Establishing a line of communication had been the hardest part. Villain had quickly disconnected any security cameras in the vicinity, alongside confiscating any technology their hostages might have held.

In the end, it was decided that a reporter would be the one to go in. One of the most recognizable faces in the city, and one that was neutral. Not fighting for either side, but representing the citizenry.

The whole plan bet on one fact: That the shapeshifting Hero could pull of the imitation.

It worked. At least, it worked for as long as it needed to. Villain accepted the olive branch, and allowed the supposed reporter to enter unharmed.

Of course, the illusion broke as soon as Hero opened their mouth. No matter how good they were at changing their shape, it did not change their voice. In the brief moment of confusion, the hostages had managed to make their escape.

Leaving only the two nemeses, and the building as their battlefield.

It was hard to remember the fight. They had waged so many battles against one another, they all seemed to blend together, at one point or another. There was broken glass, pushed over tables, exploding equipment, and then-

And then they were on the roof.

Villain was stupid, but they weren’t, well, they weren’t stupid. They may have had the moral compass of a kleptomaniac feline, and the brain cells to match, but they had common sense. A sense of self-preservation.

Forcing them to the edge of the roof... it was supposed to be like pushing them to a corner. Trapping them.

In the video, the two figures danced. Forward, and back, until one took the lead. Until they were up against the edge, with nowhere left to go.

They were supposed to stop. They weren’t supposed to fall.

They stopped their own fall, or at least they tried. They were telekinetic. Of course they did. But they were surprised, or confused, or, or something. They slowed themself down. But they did not stop. The force with which they struck the concrete parking lot below was more than enough to knock them out.

The video ended.

And... that was it. The end. Years and years of battles, some won, some lost, all ended. They should have been happy, and they were! They hated Villain, sincerely and truly hated them.

But no other villain fought like them. No other villain had their tongue, their wit. Their skill. Their fight.

Villain’s defeat should have been epic! The ultimate confrontation of good and evil, of chaos, and order.

Yet, their downfall was a simple trip.

In the corner of Hero’s TV screen, small white text helpfully reported to them just when that video had been recorded.

One year ago.

One year, since that day. Since Villain’s downfall. And now...

Hero’s phone buzzed. A text message. The confirmation of a meeting.

One whole year, and still, Hero’s mind was consumed by their lost nemesis.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━   

The diner was terribly busy, and yet, when Hacker walked through the door, Hero had no doubts as to their identity.

Despite their rather stereotypical appearance, there was nothing about the person’s manner that would have indicated the sheer amount of time they spent behind a computer screen. They greeted the receptionist, pointed to Hero, and exchanged a few words beyond that. With a smile, then, they parted, and made their way to Hero’s table.

Their manner only seemed strange when they sat down, and Hero noted that the way they smiled seemed to pain them.

“Is this seriously what you people act like?” They hissed through bared teeth. “Can I stop smiling now? Or will they look at me weird?”

“They’re already looking at you weird.”

“They are?”

“You- You don’t need to do that.”

“Oh thank god.” Immediately, their expression fell into one far more analytic. Far less friendly. “I, uh, don’t get out much.”

“Really?” Hero raised a brow incredulously. 

“I’ve got more important things to do than, uh, than going out. Anyways.” They stuck a hand outwards. It was partially covered by a fingerless glove. “I’m Hacker.”

“I figured.” Hero shook the offered hand. “I’m Hero, though I suppose you already know that.”

“You’d think people here would be, uh, a bit more in awe? It’s not everyday you get to eat in the same building as a superhero.”

“Keep your voice down, please.”

“Oh, sorry. Is it, like, a secret? You don’t have a secret identity, do you?”

“No. But when I’m out of costume, I’m not exactly that recognizable. So let’s keep it that way. Kapish?”

“Kapash. But, still, oh my god. This is so cool! A real life hero...”

“Yeah... Yeah. A real hero alright.”

A hero who could hardly focus during battle. A hero who infuriated their team leader more than they aided them.

“Anyways.” Hacker raised their head, a far more natural smile coming onto their face. “I have the... thing.”

“You mentioned that. It’s about Villain, right?”

“Mhm.”

The person across the booth leaned down, prying a laptop from a carrying case and placing it atop the table. It was a bulky thing, and as soon as it was turned on, the shrill sound of fans struggling not to overheat filled Hero’s head. Hacker clicked around a bit. They gripped the edges of the device, as if about to spin it around, before they stopped, frowning.

“It’s been a year now, hasn’t it?” They commented.

“Since Villain was captured. Yes. 374 days.”

“You remember?”

“Yes.”

“You miss them, don’t you?”

It was so direct. Hero couldn’t help but stutter:

“I don’t- Of course I don’t miss them. I hate them.”

Hacker looked up over the laptop screen to give them an incredulous look. It wasn’t a convincing lie.

“I don’t miss them.” Hero stood their ground. “But I want to make sure they’re contained.”

“I just... I don’t know if this is something you want to see. You’re trying to move on, and-”

“Show me it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. If it’s something to do with their containment, I need to know about it. I can’t let them hurt anyone else.”

“Well, that’s not the problem here. If you’re sure.”

With a sigh, Hacker spun the computer around, so that it’s screen faced Hero.

They weren’t sure what they expected. Some kind of... deep web threat? A message from Villain? A copycat? An escape attempt?

But they didn’t get any of that. Instead, the screen displayed a simple PDF. Medical records. At the top, in bold letters and a rather ostentatious logo, the header read:

Specialized Criminal Rehabilitation Unit of Organization

For the most part, the page was Greek to Hero. A slew of ID numbers and attending physicians with far too many acronyms following their names. What did make sense to them was the spreadsheet that made up most of the page, labelled:

Approved Daily Medication Dosage for Patient: Villain

The spreadsheet took up two pages with solid text. Hero did not recognize the medication names, of course, but they did not need to be a doctor to understand the entries written under the column labelled “Medication Purpose.”

Every single data cell, even as they scrolled to the bottom of the document, contained only one word. The same word.

Sedation

“This is...” Hero muttered, furrowing their brow. Scrolling up and down. This had to be wrong, somehow.

“I don’t understand most of it.” Hacker commented sheepishly. “But, uh, I have a few friends with some more medical knowledge than me. They’ve never seen anything like it. It’s more than enough medication to sedate a fucking elephant- sorry, excuse my language.”

“It’s fine.” The confusion in their voice was rapidly melting to fury.

“Even for major surgical procedures... nothing near this level would ever be used.”

“This has to be a mistake.” Hero shook their head. “A mix-up. Maybe it’s like... all the medications the facility ordered. And they just labelled it wrong.”

“Well, if it’s a mistake, they’ve been making the exact same one for an entire year. I’ve got 374 of these files. Newest one just got uploaded a few hours ago.”

“And they’re always the same?”

“With some minor dosage adjustments, but yes. That’s not, um, that’s not all of it.”

Hacker reached over, dragging the computer back so that it faced them again. There was more clicking this time, along with typing at a speed that made Hero’s fingers hurt, just to watch it.

When the laptop was spun back around, this time, it was a video.

A camera feed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  

Villain felt about to choke on their tongue.

It wasn’t a new feeling. More or less, it was the only thing they felt, anymore. That heavy block of muscle in their mouth, threatening at any moment to block throat choke air no air no-

They were losing their words again. Words... wordsssssss... Voices. Voices spoke words. Sometimes, they did. Sometimes they grumbled and muttered and sputtered and murmured like a car murmured. Cars... or was it cats? No, cats didn’t murmur. They purred. What else did they do? Not bark... no, barking too loud for cats. Cat go mew mew, real quiet like.

Cat’s meow, that is a cat’s voice. There were other voices, too. Quiet like cats. Two of them, two voices. They knew those voices, those were the doctors’ voices. The doctors liked to talk a lot. They talked, but they did not see. Or... no. They were not seen. Villain did not see them. They wanted to, but their eyes were broken. The engines in their eyelids would not run anymore, would not open the garage door, Sally!

One of the doctors’ voices got closer. A million miles away, a hand was laid upon Villain’s wrist, flipping over their hand so that their palm faced downward.

“Let’s move it.”

It was a silly thing to say. Nothing moved in this place. Nothing that Villain could see, as their eyes were broken.

“Is the other vein healed enough?”

“It’s going to have to be.”

Silly words... Villain wanted to laugh, but their muscles were firmly locked away behind a padlock.

“Okay.” The doctor sounded so sad. Why were they so sad? Villain’s mouth was full of soil. The doctor was tired. “I’ll get the rest of the medicines.”

“We’re going 30 milligrams up from yesterday on the Propofol.”

“Oh? Why?”

“They opened their eyes, yesterday.”

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Hero felt sick. In the top right corner of the security footage, the same logo from the medical records was displayed. The Specialized Criminal Rehabilitation Unit of Organization. Below it, a subtitle.

“Keeping the city safe.”

Was this safety? It shouldn’t have been. They had known, of course, what had happened to Villain after their capture and very brief hospital stay. It was what happened to all villains. They were sent to the rehab unit.

A therapy program. Helping villains to control their powers and reform their lives. To return them to the straight and narrow. But, now that Hero thought about it...

Villain was the only one who had never been released.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━���━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━   

Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!

A.) Tell someone about what is happening - Who should Hero tell? (They are on a small team, as well as part of a larger Organization, for reference.)

B.) Attempt a more direct approach. Visit Villain in the rehab program - Should Hero try to rescue Villain immediately?

[maribat-musings]

Random headcanon

Other heroes finding out the Paris heroes ages retroactively.

Like their miraclous hides their identity so that people have a vague age range for how old they look

But like Ladybugs and Chat Noirs have been around for ages and it’s not uncommon for people not to age with the help of magic

Not everyone’s aware that the holders change

Diana know her mother was a Ladybug but that was a while ago. So she just assumes they were given the miraculous sometime after that.

So that leads most heroes into thinking they are older than they actually are

Eventually Hawkmoth is defeated and the JL make contact with the Parisian heroes

(They didn’t before cuz they didn’t know how to get in contact with them and they didn’t want to go to Paris in case they got akumatized)

(for plot reasons the Paris JL headquarters is under construction and they are temporarily headquartered in a different country)

JL meets LB and co when they’re like 16-17 or so still thinking they’re mid-twenties/centuries old

LB & co can act a little childish at times but not enough to raise any eyebrows

Besides they act mature enough most of the time due to ✨trauma✨ of dealing w/ Hawkmoth from such a young age

And after all Ladybug is the guardian of the miraculous and surely that must make her old enough to handle that level of maturity

This goes on for a while with the Paris heroes dodging questions & conversations dealing with adult life and adult problems

But like the adults are trying to rope them into conversation and on occasion one of the Paris heroes will say something that makes them seem older

Alix definitely mentions something that sounds like first hand experience from a major historical event or a conversation they had with a historical figure that lends credibility to the theory they are centuries older then they are.

Eventually the Paris heroes are just old enough for it not to be weird that they’re heroes out on their own maybe like 18/20ish

The Paris heroes are relaxed and comfortable around the JL and one slips up (or someone catches them when they’re transforming)

Maybe one of the young bats knows them as their friend from college and they’re like cool we’re friends as civilians and heroes :)

They then do a bit more digging on the bat computer cuz the JL didn’t baby them when they were younger and they were the same age. And it’s unfair that the Paris hero got to be full member at 16 and not them.

They do digging into their Paris hero’s info page in the JL database and see it’s missing a few details and the age is set for like 29-2000 years

The young bats is like yeah okay makes sense they must have been passing off as a 18 year old for centuries and faking documents

They then look into the civilian ID and quickly realize that no there are no faked documents this person is actually 3 months younger than them.

Young bats bring this to B’s attention and say hey this ain’t fair what the heck???

B’s like huh and brings it to the other JL members and is like so at least one of Paris heroes is [young bats] age and they’ve been a hero for four years now meaning they’ve been a hero since they were 14

JL’s like wow okay LB shouldn’t have asked them to be a hero when they were literally a child and decide to confront her

JL: how could you let a child be a hero on their own without any training???

LB: well I mean I became a hero at 13 and didn’t have a mentor most of the time???

JL: yes well things have changed since you first became LB

LB: what are you talking about we’re literally the same age. We went to school together ? ? ?

JL: [shocked pikachu face] ...

JL: what ??? Does this mean all of the Paris heroes are that young???

LB: i mean yeah??

The league decides to have a conversation (lecture) with the Miraculous team about decision making and why they shouldn’t have become heroes at such a young age

But they’re like yeah no we’ve been heroes for a long time now and we are officially adult and can do what we want. We are too old for this lecture now. Besides it was our favorite hero offering us to also become a hero on our own, how could we say no?/ there was literally no one else to do the job

Over all the vibe is like parents finding out something their child did that was against the rule/ dangerous that they can no longer lecture them about.

Maybe it was Luka who had their ID reveal first just to drive home how young Marinette was when she first started

Wow this ended up being way longer than I had anticipated, I tried to add one of those read more things but I’m on mobile so idk if it worked

[lunarianillusion]

A change in fate

authors note: Sorry this chapter took a while, writers block is a pain and school takes a lot of time. Still I hope you enjoy this chapter and this story is now also on archive of our own under the same name. Now on with the story.

a maribat fanfic

Chapter 07

Marinette had been greatly relieved when Mist had returned so quickly and seemingly having succeeded in their mission. The miracle box safely tucked in their tail, a ball of memories between the leopard’s jaws and Wayzz sitting upon their silvery head. A small smile graced her lips at the sight.

But the small moment of joy had been shattered when a. unknown presence made themselves known. How had she not noticed them, she was the true holder of the miraculous of emotions, she could feel everyone’s emotions within a six-mile radius clearly. Even if she could not on a person’s scent, she should have been able to sense his emotions long before they made themselves known. So, how had she not been able to sense them following her guardian. 

In a quick and flowing motion Royal shifted into her battle stance. Her fan at the ready in one hand miracle box in the other, Mist had her claws out and growled from deep in their throat and Wayzz nuzzled into the female’s neck hiding away from the possible danger. All their eyes focussed on the figure that now slipped out of the shadows.

To a certain degree the wielder of the peafowl was relieved that the intruder was neither Chat Noir nor her replacement. That however did not rule out the possibility that this was another akuma, albeit a better dressed one. The male wore upon a quick glance a near skin-tight suit made out of a reinforced material she could not quite place. His main colors consisted of red and black with a golden yellow coloring for his utility belts, that sat on his waist and crossed over his chest. Overall a decent ensemble, definitely better than what some akumas wore. The only things that really did not sit well with her was the length of the cape and that bloody cowl!

The male raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and moved his head to bear his throat. “I am not here to fight you, Blue Royal,” the stranger stated calmly. “Or should I refer to you by your old identity, Ladybug.”

The blue clad hero went absolutely rigid at this comment as did her companions. How? How did he find out?

Seeming able to read her body language he went on to give her a simple explanation on how he got to this revelation. He told her about how he had been there when the last akuma attacked and had made the connection due to her mannerisms around the so-called heroes and her overall combat experience. For not even someone trained in any form of martial arts, no matter how long they may have trained, would be able to pull of what she did in that little of time without real life experience. And from her reaction he could tell that his theory was correct. Great so she ratted herself out, well done Marinette.

“Who are you?” she more demanded then asked.

“I go by Red Robin and I was formerly known as Robin and protégé of the Batman of Gotham. I have come to Paris to offer you my help in taking Hawkmoth down,” Red Robin told her, while looking straight at the female before him. Though his eyes were covert by the cowl’s white lenses, Mari swore their eyes were locked.

“And how am I to be certain that you are not one of His akumas or accomplices?” The blue clad girl asked skeptically with a cold tone her eyes narrowed into a glare. The tension in the air could almost be touchable as the two continued their stare of.

Red Robin nodded at her reasoning, seeming to understand her suspicions and following cautios manner. “Understandable concerns. Though I doubt I shall be able to put your worries to rest, with just my words. But quite a few people have made my existence public to the world. I hope that when you have seen that you can be assured that I am here to help,” He spoke calmly as he lowered his hands.

“Not very secretive of you to become known to the public, protégé of the Bat,” Royal could not help to comment. It gained a small chuckle from the male before her. “Well the existence of the League is not really a secret either, hence why I were the cowl,” He bantered back. Marinette could not help her lip twitching upward even as she kept her look skeptical. For her nerves were not put to rest.

Since she could not sense his emotions, he must have a strong control over them, she focused her connection to miraculous to look into his soul. It was in correlation with a trick that Duusu had been telling her about during training. How when transformed a true soul can look through the eyes of their kwami and gain the ability to see someone’s soul. It was however a very exhausting technique and she would most likely have a massive headache in the morning, but it was a small price to pay to see if he was a threat.

The only thing giving away her use of this skill was the thin glowing ring of silver surrounding her pupil.

His souls held several shades of blue implying to someone who was loyal and strong of mind. But the colors were dull and several cracks could be seen in the core of his soul and were festering in a malicious black veins. While black could been seen as a color of mystery, which would fit with his secret ID, the way the veins seemed to be invading re-laid to him being hurt greatly. From Blue Marinette could tell though was that the vigilantly infront of her was being sincere to her at the moment. Though it took a second as she got distracted by the sight of his soul.

Still best to play save and do a background check on this ‘protégé of the Batman’ when she got back to her room. “If I were to believe you and you truly are here to help end the reign pf Hawkmoth. How would you be able to help me?” The female asked firmly as she called off the leopard beside her.

“Do not assume me to being rude, but even though you are capable the akuma’s in battle. Far better then your stand in or the mangy cat. I have come to surmise that detective work is not your forte,” Red Robin answered as he took to leaning on the railing. “I was trained in the fields of being a detective, combat and stealth by one of the best that I know of. I believe if we combine both our skills, we will be able to finally to put the plague that Paris is under to rest,” he finished.

He was not wrong she did need help in that department. She could deal with the combat part more easily now than in years past, having learned from experience. Though she had also collected some leads on the possible identity of Hawkbitch, she was unsure on how to follow up on said leads. If he truly was trained by the Bat of Gotham, someone who was considered the number one detective, he would definitely be a useful asset to the mission.

She only had one question left.

“Why now?” The question seemed to startle the vigilante before. The raw emotion in her voice a reflection of her young thirteen-year-old self, sounding so tired and confused. “I sent a message to the league years ago. Why is their only now a response?”

The male’s expression turned soft at her tone of voice and seeming to understand why she would ask this. “I have no excuse to the sheer incompetence of the one who thought your call of distress was nothing more than a prank. The suffering and deaths of the people of Paris is not something to be brushed off as a prank,” he seethed in anger a small flicker of emotion slipping from his control. Telling the blue clad hero of his sincerity.

A beeping sound of the peafowl wielders miraculous rang through the air. Six minutes.

“I get the feeling that our time is limited so I shall get to the point. Will you give us working together a chance?” And that was the question wasn’t it. Could she trust him to help her?

No, she could not, but she needed someone who could dig deep. And if the Bat had trained him his skills in what he mentioned prior would definitely of use to the cause. Still, he was an unknown with strong control of his emotions and even by looking at his soul, she was able to get more information on the male, she did not feel that she had a good read on him. So, this would be a gamble on her part. She needed a second opinion.

Turning her head, she looked at the little turtle god on her shoulder. For while she and Fu had not always had been able to see eye to eye, Wayzz has always been there to come to some sort of compromise. The little kwami always staying level-headed when there was a whirlwind around him and for that she was grateful. So, she knew she could trust him with being her second voice. The kwami and omega duo locked eyes into a silent conversation as Mist kept watch over the anomaly.

The omega’s eyes soon locked back on the vigilante’s masked once, her decision made. Marinette only hoped she would not come to regret this in the future.

“We will meet to compare notes and come to a full partnership arrangement on Wednesday at eleven p.m. at the arc de triomphe. Should there be an akuma attack before that time I want you to focus on evacuating the civilians away from danger. Try not to get spotted by Chat or LB for I belief we both agree they are not to be trusted,” the peafowl wielder informed the male of her decision. She barely made out the smallest amount of tension leaving his shoulders as Red nodded his head in agreement.

“To that we can most certainly agree,” Red Robin voiced. “Then we shall leave further questions to each other for Wednesday.”

The silence that followed his statement gave the vigilante the impression that it was time to leave. However, as he was about to take of the hero Paris called for his attention once more. Turning back to the blue clad female he motioned for her to continue. “Can you make certain no other heroes come to Paris,” her command gained her a curios tilt of the other humans head, question implied but not voiced.

“When I started being a hero, I thought the JL would be able to help, but after some research of the battle tactics they would only bring more problems than actually solve. For most league heroes seem to rely on an emotion power boost,” Red nodded along with her statement gears starting to turn. “And with Hawkmoth feeding on those emotions would make them a liability.”

“Agreed, I for one do not want to fight a mind controlled and upgraded superman,” The cowled male answered giving her some assurance that he would make sure the league would not interfere with Paris.

Being assured things would be stable until they could talk things out in two days, the two bid each other goodnight. 

As Red Robin took off into the night Blue Royal took one more look at his soul, but instead of looking at his core she observed the spectral dragon that was coiling around his soul. It was the mark of a true soul. Which led to the question: Was that Timothy?

The nudge of the leopard beside her snapped Marinette out of her head and back to reality. Swiftly she and her companions took off to her nest. She had a lot to think about, to plan for and to do and the night was not getting any younger.

taglist: @moonlightstar64 @iloontjeboontje @mickylikesstuff@myazael @scribblinggraveyard @incredulous-reader@mewwitch@woe-is-me0 @fan-written @coolspidermanmusicflower@heretopasstimebi @jjmjjktth @ichigorose@cmouse @nyx-in-line@chocolatecatstheron @bookgirl14 @toodaloo-kangaroo@iglowinggemma28 @itsmeevie01

[lovelivingmydreams]

A story by heroes and villains

Roman Castile: Passion and duty

Roman finds that his different passions seem to get in each other's way for now. But one day, he will find a balance.

“Ugh! I am done!” Roman exclaimed relieved, barely hearing the hissed warning from the librarian. Homework had been draining. Sure they’d had fun. Especially when it came to teasing Virgil about his pronunciation when they worked on Spanish.

Still Roman was ready to do literally anything else.

“Give me a sec, I have to finish this thing for English,” Virgil muttered absentmindedly. Roman knew that Virgil had rewritten that particular assignment two times already.

“Want me to read it trough for you?” Roman offered. Maybe hearing someone say that it was good would be enough to stop him from second guessing himself again.

“You don’t…”  Virgil started, somehow looking guilty.

“We’re here to help each other Virgil. If I didn’t want to help you I wouldn’t offer. I thrive on being of help to my friends. It’s no trouble,” he assured him. Virgil offered him a small smile and a nod in response. “Alright. You can read it when I’m done,” he allowed.

Roman took peace with that and opened his notebook to start doodling.

He had a few ideas for some more shirt designs. He’d enjoyed making his ‘coming out’ shirt. Then there was the Halloween party and every other social event this year has to offer where he had to slay. Junior year was a year to be noticed. Nothing wrong with putting down some ideas in advance. He just might come across the perfect outfit.

“Seems I’m not the only one who can draw up some clothes,” Virgil noted and Roman nearly fell of his chair when he jumped at his sudden proximity.

“Will you stop that!?” A thing about Virgil Roman had learned over the last week. He always seemed to pop up out of nowhere. One minute he’s gushing over the latest Disney trailer with André and suddenly Virgil stands next to him giving his two cents. It was terrifying.

“Not a chance,” Virgil chuckled as he picked up Roman’s sketches.

“This looks good though… You ever thought of becoming a fashion designer?”

Roman’s eyes widened. Making amazing outfits for a living? He could make a whole ‘wear your pride’ line and… Oh… Oh…!

“You are a genius!” Roman exclaimed. He’d had no idea what he wanted to do with his future, aside from hero work, but now the idea was brought up he wanted nothing else. Fashion designer, superhero, actor, maybe also Mr. Castile-Anker. That was a future he could look forward to!

Virgil chuckled. “It’s the least I can do. I sent in the designs like you said… I’m kind of excited.”

Roman beamed at him. “I’m sure next time you see DreamPrince on the news he’ll be wearing your design.” He was. He’d been shown some alternative designs by Manifestor and found Virgil’s drawing among them and immediately declared that that was the one.

As he’d told Roman, he’d changed a few things. He’d shown him on Wednesday to get his stamp of approval. Roman had gushed unapologetically, because he knew he’d have to tone it back a bit in front of the team.

Which had been hard.

Tonight he’d be taking it for a test run and he’d make sure to be seen by people and cameras.

“We’ll see,” Virgil smiled as he pushed his laptop with his assignment towards Roman.

Roman read it, dropping the subject without problem.

Virgil was easy to be friends with and he’d quickly learned to read his moods.

During lunch Virgil usually sat himself a little bit away from the group when he felt the need to just focus on his music and sketch a little before heading back to class. He was sarcastic, witty and could dish it out about as well as he could take it.

He was also very guarded emotionally, which Roman could understand, but whenever they were just the two  of them, Virgil opened up some more. He’d learned about Virgil’s soon to be stepdad and the admittedly adorable meet cute he’d been a part of.

He knew that Virgil’s dad had found them a new home and they’d moved in just that week.

He learned that Virgil was mature and his dad’s only wingman which they both agreed was super awkward but also hilarious.

Roman had joked that Virgil might end up being his father’s best man. But apparently there was a family friend ‘uncle Thomas’ who might get that position.

Virgil had gone out with another girl that week. Anna, who’d had English with him last year or something. Virgil had listened patiently, but relatively unaffected to her asking him out and arranged another semi-date at the music store for the next evening. Luckily nothing came from it again. Roman asked him why he kept saying yes to people he barely knew. Virgil explained that he had missed out on enough chances to befriend others. So the way he saw it he’d at the very least get a friend out of it. Roman kind of took comfort in that. It didn’t sound like Virgil was trying to get a girlfriend or a boyfriend right now. Just trying to socialize. Roman had reminded Virgil to watch his boundaries though. He wouldn’t want him to push himself out of fear he’d be missing out.

One more thing he learned about Virgil: he was overly critical of himself.

“Well, I think you can hand this in with confidence Virge,” Roman concluded as he returned Virgil’s laptop to him.

“So… I recall something about pizza? I’m starving!” he grinned.

Virgil chuckled and lead the way. Soon they were sat at a table with their orders and they were talking about everything and nothing. It was great. And Roman was so close to asking Virgil out but…

“So… Um… There’s this… Shoot wait a minute,” Roman got up and picked up his phone.

“Si mama…?” he asked curiously after seeing the caller ID.

“Darling. I know you are out with your friend. But I wanted you to know we’re headed to the university now,” his mother informed him. The university… Wait. “Que?” Roman looked at his watch incredulously. He was going to be late. Unless he left right now that is.

“Perdona! I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and dug through his wallet for some money.

“So sorry Virge! Time got away from us I’m afraid. I swear I intended to give you that ride… Can you call your dad… You know what? Just use the change to take the bus or something alright? My treat! I’ll call you later!” he promised as he tossed down a few bills that should more than cover the tab and the tip before rushing away.

How was it so late already?

He sprinted around a few corners and found a spot to get changed. BS had explained about the sciency stuff behind his costume change, but all Roman really cared about was that he basically had a magical boy transformation. Sure he could sit there and let the tech do its thing, but it was much more fun to make up a cool transformation sequence.

First, hair. He retrieved a lip balm like object and applied the substance to his hairline. He tucked the balm away and with one smooth movement of his hand he styled and recolored his hair. Instead of parted in the middle with regal waves it was flicked to the back, save for a single rebellious strand dangling down his forehead. Instead of a deep ash brown it was warm chestnut in color.

Then he took a tini metallic bead from a ring on his finger and tapped it against his temple, before he swiped his hand in front of his eyes as his mask placed itself securely on his face, changing his eye color in the process. He tapped his wrists together in front of his chest and brought them down with force, feeling his blazer and shirt get replaced by the skintight suit. He tapped his right heal against his left before taking another power position and finishing his costume change.

How cool was his life?!

He created a platform to lift himself to the roof and sprinted towards the university. The GTH was in it’s basement. As he made his way there he started to think over asking Virgil out again.

Maybe, now wasn’t the time. Virgil was clearly still upset about the whole Janus thing. He didn’t say it but Roman could tell. And he didn’t want Virgil to think for even a second that Roman’s crush was anything less than genuine, he had noticed that Virgil still had trouble believing their friendship was real at times. Not to mention that starting a relationship with someone while he was still figuring out how to balance out superhero and civilian life was clearly a bad idea. He couldn’t even ask him out without being interrupted by his other life.

So, he'd wait until he had his life in order and he was sure Virgil was ready. There was definitely some kind of connection between them. And Roman was willing to wait until the time was right…

He knew he was being a coward, but his friendship with Virgil was so fragile.

He entered the basement campus with little hassle and dropped of his bag in his personal locker, making sure to lock it. If anyone with ill intent got in here they could easily find out his identity with it's contents and Roman didn’t want his name out like that. Not yet at least.

He hurried to the training hall, threw open the doors and slid inside.

“Your prince has returned!” he exclaimed, doing a pretty good job at pretending he hadn't just sprinted the whole way there.

“Has he now?” BS asked, apparently in a bad mood today.

“Oh come now big S, the boy is just excited for his present! I would be too if I got a new costume made for me by a secret admirer,” Sweets offered with a calming hand on BS' shoulder. Sweets was an empath. He could share his emotions and those of others, perfect match for someone who wants or needs to keep his calm.

But what sweets said made Roman rather flustered. “I don't think DreamPrince has had enough appearances to already gain such attentions. Whoever did this just couldn't stand to look at this any longer.” Roman gestured to his current costume.

“Speaking of which…” he held out his hand bouncing on his feet in excitement. He was supposed to meet the chief of police today and he wanted to look presentable.

Manifestor chuckled from his spot on the desk. “Give the boy his stuff. He's been looking forward to this day for the past four years.”

BS sighed and handed Roman a small box, which the young hero snatched up before rushing to the dressing room.

He turned his suit off and took off the containment units. He opened the box and switched the old units for the new ones. The bracelets were more comfortable and adjusted to his skin tone, the metal bead was replaced with two skin colored stickers he applied to his temples.

“Let’s do this,” Roman smirked excitedly.

“To adventure!” he called out as he crossed his arms and tapped at his temples while simultaneously clicking his wrists together. At the same time he tapped his right toe behind his left heel and brought his ankles together. He struck a power pose, facing the full length mirror and grinned excitedly. Virgil had added an insignia on his cape and golden trimming in the final design. There'd been a few options for his emblem and Roman had chosen the shield with a castle by the sea with the sun shining down on him. He looked quite dashing.

He left the dressing room and handed the box back to BS with an elegant gesture.

BS wasn't amused. Sweets and Manifestor on the other found it hilarious.

“So? What do you think?” Roman asked as he turned around to show off the end result.

A loud ‘bing' announced a message from his family watching from the observation room.

“Gaaaaaaay!” Roman rolled his eyes good naturedly. Remus was a fan.

“Stay away from Planes!” the next one read. Roman chuckled. He had asked Virgil about the cape, considering he’d expected someone as cautious as him to heed Edna Mode's advice.

Apparently Virgil had intended the Cape to be an addition for official events. So ‘Prince’ would look good on camera. He'd also pointed out that it would look badass for the prince to un-claps his Cape before a fight. He'd had a point and Roman actually loved it.

“You look very handsome darling.”

“Thanks mom!” Roman called out.

Then two beeps came from a device on BS wrist. He looked down and relaxed, tapping away at a holographic screen, turning up the intensity of his shadow. “The chief is here,” he announced.

Roman raised an eyebrow, that was not what BS had been so tense about. Something in his private life maybe? If that was the case he'd never find out.

Roman had no time to worry about that though. The door opened and in walked the police chief. A small but commanding African American woman. It was something in the way she walked that made Roman want to stand at attention. And so he did. He wasn't the only one.

“DreamPrince, at your service ma’am,” Roman introduced himself respectfully.

“So you are what all the fuss is about?” she asked as she looked Roman up and down.

Chief Davies pursed her lips before nodding to herself. “I’ve read your file, you’re quite the prodigy aren’t you?” she asked.

Roman chuckled a little awkwardly. “I’ve just been training from a young age, that’s all.” Most gifted didn’t realize their talent until they were well in their teens.

“Good answer. I have no time to stroke an adolescent ego. We’ve got work to do.”

Chief Davies turned to Manifestor. “You got the files I sent?”

Manifestor nodded hurriedly. “Yes. I had no time to review them though.”

“I’ll walk you through it,” she announced dismissively. The leader of Roman’s training team nodded and tapped at something on his wrist. The screen that had shown the messages from Roman’s family earlier was now filled with mugshots.

The men looked dangerous. Roman shifted nervously. “You… you want my help apprehending these men?” he asked, trying not to show how frightening it seemed.

“God No!” Roman hid his relieve. “These men are all in jail already, with iron clad cases keeping them there for a long time. You think I’m going to send some rookie after hardcore criminals? No offense, but you are still a baby,” Roman blushed at that and focused back on the pictures.

Wait a minute. “I know that guy! Remember at the end of my first week? I spotted some tugs bothering that kid and tossed a rock at them?”

“And by some miracle you weren’t found when said tugs came looking for you,” BS added through gritted teeth. Still upset at Roman's initial recklessness.

“I wasn’t the only one they were looking for,” Roman insisted. He’d been so sure he hadn’t been alone that night. But BS claimed the would have known if anyone else had been there.

He never went after the tugs after they left the alley. BS insisting he was done with back alleys for the night.

And now those guys were apparently behind bars?

“Next slide please!” Davies called out.

A picture of a ziplock bag with pictures, a USB stick and a note of cut out letters that said ‘your turn’.

“For almost a year now we’ve been getting mysterious packages like this. Pictures, audio and video recordings. Every last one had one of these men incriminating themselves. It’s like whoever delivers these stands right next to them, but never gets caught taking pictures or carrying a wire. I have a small task force on the case who have dubbed them ‘The Phantom’. We are keeping this as in house as we can. Once the public hears about the Phantom, we’ll lose the most valuable asset we’ve ever had. Plus until now we weren’t sure if they were a sensible vigilante or a mobster who was taking out competition in a very clever way. Given what you just said I’d be inclined towards the former. They might have some sort of gift that hides them well enough to get away with spying. But right now, they are putting themselves in danger.” Davies turned towards Roman.

“Keep an eye out, see if you can spot him during your patrol this evening. And if you do, get him on board with the program.”

“Prince did not go through all that training to be your recruitment poster boy!” BS snapped to Roman's surprise. That was the most emotional response he's seen from BS ever. Aside from when he scolded Roman on his reckless behavior.

Davies glared at BS, looking quite intimidating, despite barely reaching to his chest.

“Now don't go all noble on me BrainStorm. What? Did your heart grow three sizes while I wasn't looking? Is there suddenly room for more than one other person there?”

Roman knew that this was a threat. Davies knew BS’ true identity, where he worked, who he cared for. She could ruin whatever he had built in an instant.

Roman often wondered what kind of life BS had outside the facility. Did he have a partner? A family? Did they know about his past at all.

A few seconds ticked by with no one daring to do so much as breathe.

Then Davies relaxed and stepped back. “I'm no monster BrainStorm. I wouldn't ask some rookie to deal with this if I hadn’t tried everything else already. I send in my agents and even called in other gifted. All we got out of that was this,” she gestured and Manifestor showed the next image. A note in the same style as the previous one that said ‘no babysit!’

“Our profiler thinks they are young. So maybe your prince won't seem as threatening. They might've had his back once before already. If this Phantom were someone you cared for, would you rather we left them be, or would you drag their noble behind here yourself to give them proper gear and back up?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, BS had nothing to counter with. Roman imagined Phantom being one of his friends, or even Janus and the answer remained the same.

“I will do what I can,” he vowed before lifting his chin and facing the fierce chief head on. “But ma'am, I don't appreciate you threatening my mentor like that.”

BS had stood up for him, it was only right for him to return the favor.

Davies chuckled. “Just when I started to worry you were only brawn and a pretty face. You can be smart too huh? And you’ve got guts. You just might have what it takes kid. Now. I have places to be. Keep me updated, and don't lose this.” Roman accepted the watch he was handed with a confused frown.

“My people will call if we need you. Please use that brain and return the favor?”

With that she left. Well… that was intense.

Roman put on the watch and saw that it had a frequency displayed on it instead of time. He also spotted two buttons. One blue and one red. It didn't take much to realize that one was a panic button and the other was to make it so the cops could hear him. He wondered if it would connect to the nearest patrol car or to Davies directly.

He hoped he’d never have to find out.

“Well… time to show the city their hero is ready for action.”

 It had been a pleasant evening so far. He'd stopped a few shoplifters, broke up a fight or two and dodged a few reporters, though he let them snap a good picture of his new outfit.

Now the sun was down however and he was making his way to the back alleys.

“Looking for a fight is foolish Prince!” BS growled through his earpiece.

But Roman wasn't looking for a fight. He was looking for someone who'd gotten him out of at least one pickle.

He ignored BS as he landed on a roof, overlooking the city using his sight. He didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but it was his only plan.

Suddenly he spotted something strange and unusual. There was an energy, a few blocks ahead. But it was impossible for him to really see it. Like he was looking at it trough glasses with strong prescriptions.

He rushed towards it and found a gang of criminals with violently swirling auras. He knew what this meant. They were going to hurt someone.

“Send back up to my location,” he instructed before turning the receiver off. He needed to focus.

“I say we attack now! They are week! We can take them down easily.” A shorter guy with energy like glass shards insisted.

“Boss says we have a truce until the rat is found,” a giant of a man stated calmly, though his energy betrayed how much he wanted to go with the first guy's plan.

Were they talking about Phantom?

“What rat!? Those idiots just bragged to the wrong crowd.” The first voice shot back. Phantom was becoming a bit of a ghost story it seemed. Some who believed, judging by the shudder that went through the other men's auras at the mere mention of them. But clearly not everyone was convinced.

“Oh and they gave out pictures as well? Did a little livestream? We're not safe until this rat is lynched,” the tall man pointed out tensely. He was a believer. And he wanted Phantom dead. Not good.

Roman studied the tugs and to his relief he spotted they were all armed. Weird thing to be happy about. But it meant he had probable cause to interfere.

He jumped down, slowing his descent just so that he didn't hurt himself on the landing without sacrificing the cool factor.

“Do you gentlemen have permits for those weapons?” he asked as he rose up to his full length facing them fearlessly.

“what the…?”

“It's that Prince clown!” Rude.

The tall guy, the leader probably, silenced the group with a gesture and smiled, his anxious energy almost completely disappearing. He'd found something to vent on. “Sure kid. Got mine right here.”

Roman flung his cape in front of him and manifested a gelatinous shield around himself as the leader pulled out his gun and fired several rounds at him. The tugs wouldn't see it. But it was there, and it caught the bullets slowing them down until they were harmless, making them fall to the ground when they met with the fabric.

“Well now you just pissed me off. This is brand new!” he complained as he dropped both cape and shield.

“I suppose you won't surrender peacefully?” he deduced. The criminals all readied their weapons. Seriously? Did they not get that he was essentially bulletproof?

He sighed as he took off his cape and hung it on a water pipe that ran down the side of the building.

“Fine,” he sighed and then he amped up his speed a bit while shielding himself from the rain of bullets heading his way. He used the gelatin shield because he didn't want to risk the bullets ricocheting and injuring someone. Especially the gifted he was sure was still watching the whole thing.

It wasn't hard to disarm the criminals. He even managed to knock a few to the ground. But there were at least two who'd gone down without him even touching them. And he would’ve sworn he saw a figure move between him and a tug once or twice to block a blow. He couldn't really see the other hero. It was an odd sensation. But he could feel his presence better and better and soon he was adapting his moves to those of the Phantom. Together they took out the whole group. Though to the villains it would seem like he'd done it by himself. He stood victorious over the leader, a pile of disassembled guns behind him and sirens lighting up the alley.

He twisted his foot to show off his white boot with gold accents. “So… how does it feel to get your butt kicked by a guy in heels?” he wondered playfully before looking up towards the presence and winking in acknowledgment.

“Good job Dream Prince. We've got it from here.” Roman turned to the cops and bowed to them

“It's my pleasure to be of assistance to the police of this fine city.” Then, while turning around, he made a gesture that could be taken as a ‘goodbye’, or as a ‘follow me’.

He was glad to notice that the presence seemed to follow him. He found a fire escape and floated himself to the roof it led to.

He turned to face his hopefully soon to be partner in crime fighting.

He could hear the clanging of someone climbing the metal fire escape. And while he still couldn't quite make out the figure that reached the roof he saw his reflection in a pool of water left behind by the rain earlier that day.

An unfortunate weakness, but so long as no one knew, no one would be looking for it. In order to be a hero, no one could know Phantom really existed. Was that why the authorities were kept at a distance? Why Phantom never made introductions despite having crossed paths at least once before?

He stepped forward with a bow. “Greetings Phantom. I must thank you for the assistance. Both just now and three months ago. I am Dream Prince, he/him if you please. A pleasure to officially meet you.”

A distorted chuckle made him look up. He could see Phantom much better now. He was dressed in Male coded clothes, though that was no guarantee. The hero outfit was simple. A black t-shirt, boots and denims, paired with a black coat that reached down to his calves and had the collar popped up. He looked really cool… but Roman couldn't make sense of his head. He was looking right at him he could see it, but his brain couldn't identify a thing.

It was so weird.

“Phantom huh?” His voice was a strange deep echoing sound. The distortion was pretty spooky if he was honest, but he wasn't afraid. Phantom was on his side.

“Sure you can call me that. He/him… mind telling me what that was about? I thought you officials weren't let of your leash unless you could be responsible enough to not get yourself killed?”

Roman cocked his brow. “Says the guy who has half the criminal underworld out for his blood,” he reminded him. Phantom looked away. Clearly he knew Roman had a point.

“Do you have something against the program?” His tone had been oddly bitter.

“No I…”  Phantom took in a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m just pissed at the cops for sending you, I guess.” He sure sounded upset. And Roman could understand that. Here Phantom was, doing his part and all the cops could do in return was bother him At least as far as the young vigilante could tell. But then why…?

“Yet you chose to follow me up here?” Roman pressed. That didn’t make any sense. Phantom had shaken off his ‘babysits’ before. What made Roman special?

“Um… Well… I just…” Phantom stammered. Roman wondered why. Was he bad with confrontation? Social interaction in general? Or had Roman said something that hit a nerve somehow?

“You interrupted my stake out!” Phantom blurted out all of a sudden.

“Do you know how long it takes to work my way up the ranks? First I have to find a low level runner, then I follow him to his boss, that guy to his and so up the ladder I go. I was getting real close to the big guy of this group. And now…” Oh… Well Roman could understand how that would be frustrating.

“I apologize,” he said sincerely with a small bow. “I merely intended to help. They were talking about killing you.” Surely he could understand that he could not stand by after hearing that.

“And now there is a price on your head! The leader of that little club is like two steps away from the big boss. They won’t be happy with you taking him in.”

Well… He had a point. But Roman had back up. It would be rather stupid of the mob to come after a hero with government sanctioning. And these guys would go behind bars for a long time right? “You got dirt on them?” he asked. If the guns weren’t enough then surely whatever Phantom  had gleaned from his stakeouts would be sufficient. Right?

“Yes… But that’s not the point. They have no clue about me. Not really. But you are out in the open. This is not your kind of mission Royal pain.” Oh, he had nicknames huh? It was an insult, but Roman didn’t mind witty banter. Especially if it came from a place of care. And Roman was starting to think it did.

“And now that you are out, you can’t expect me to hold your hand any longer…”

Roman crossed his arms and smirked catching the implications of what Phantom just said.

“You’ve been looking out for me all summer huh?” he guessed.

Phantom scoffed and probably rolled his eyes. While Roman still couldn’t quite see it, he would bet his entire Disney collection on it.

“It’s not like I came looking for you.” Phantom snapped. And Roman believed him.

“Still… Thank you…” he was going to say more but then he heard a beep in his ear followed by a loud voice. “Prince! Answer this instant!”

“Ow!” Roman exclaimed annoyed, reflexively reaching for his ear though it wouldn’t help much. He pressed the button to talk to BS. “One. Loud. Two. Rude! I am in the middle of something! And did you seriously remotely reactivate my com?”

He would demand a new com that couldn’t do that or he’d refuse to wear one period. What if he needed to concentrate right now? What if he was in the middle of tense negotiations or being told delicate information. As a matter of fact. This situation right here was delicate. One wrong move and Phantom might bolt. And he might not come along next time he found him. And even if he couldn’t get him to join the program, he wanted Phantom to know he had an ally in him. Someone to talk to, confide in, count on if he didn’t have anyone else.

“You do not turn off your com while going into a gunfight! It’s moronic to go in alone!”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I am fine, not a scratch on me.” He wasn’t going to mention that he wasn’t alone exactly. Phantom had never consented to BS and the rest of his team knowing.

“I’ll call you when I’m done here.” And this time he took the com out of his ear. BS could yell at him later.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “My mentor is… intense at times.” In a cold and distant way.

“Mentor?” Phantom asked.

“One of the people helping me practice my powers, test my limits. Comes with the program. It’s not just a babysit and a nice suit,” he joked casually.

“Oh…” Phantom’s tone was odd. It made Roman want to come closer and offer comfort. He didn’t though. They weren’t at that point yet. Not by a long shot.

“Listen, I admit I was sent by the chief. But I didn’t come here to recruit you. I wanted to thank you and tell you… If you ever need someone to talk to, to help you figure something out… I’d be more than happy to oblige. No need to tell me your name or anything about yourself,” he vowed as he reached out his hand. Phantom hesitated for a few moments before bridging the distance and offering his own.

Roman grinned and grabbed it for a firm shake. “I’ll see you next time,” he assured his fellow hero before letting go and turning around to finish his patrol.

Progress was made. Not much, but still.

He just might’ve made a new friend.

@cirishere @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

End of this part meet Virgil and read his story.

Masterlist

[1phoenixfeather]

The decision

Hello,

found this in my drive, had almost forgot about it. It’s very fitting to my emotions. Also it was fun writting, plus there is at least two part written. Just have to check them out before I’ll do anything else. Enjoy. Civilian knew they had gone too far again, at this point they didn’t know where they had gone. Losing the track of where they were and had run was caused by their restlessness. Sometimes it seemed like it was the only thing helping.

Normally in this situation, they used to call one of their family member or a buddy of theirs, who in the end had to come and get them. But sometimes, they found a cool place… Which made them explore the abandoned building or the ruins of something very old.

Civilian took a look around, seeing an old boarded-up building, it was a fence around. It was a lot of containers just standing around, even a sign saying ‘danger’. Everything seemed to be abandoned, except for the sign which looked pretty new.

Climbing over the fence and walking around, knocking one or two containers. The echo suggested it was empty, which Civilian didn’t see a problem with. It could even be logical if a company had closed or just abandoned the place. They picked up their phone from their pocket, turning around to look at the boarded-up windows and even a camera. 

“Why is there a new camera at an abandoned building?” Civilian clicked their way to their list of contacts in their phone, as they hurried back to the fence looking for their friend’s number.

In a matter of seconds, they were on the ground on their stomach, with a boot on their back. 

Something was pushed to their back, “put your hands where I can see them and get up.” Someone harshly grumbled to them, they weren’t in any situation to refuse or fight. Not when there could be a gun aimed at them. “Don’t try anything, I won’t reward any kind of heroism.” 

Civilian slowly made it up to their feet, put their hands behind their head. Swallowed hard, knew that they could fight fairly good, but against a gun… No way.

“Who are you and what business do you have to sneak around here?” This person kicked them to their knees, holding the gun to their head. 

“I… I’m just curious, that’s all.” Civilian said as calm as they could answer.

The gun pushed even harder to the back of their head, “I asked for your god damn name!” 

Civilians eyes widened, knew it wasn’t wise of them to give out their identity. “Fake name…” Civilian took a deep breath, just as they had trained to before applying for a job at home. “My name is fake name.”

This person sighed, “if you tell me you’re a god damn Hero. I hate heroes.”

Civilain opened their mouth to reassure them they weren’t, but the thought of being a hero did sound appealing. “Actually…” They had stumbled in here by curiosity, something they knew could be a risk to their safety. Training for years and years should pay off. And finally, stop spying for jobs they weren’t gonna get anyway. 

Civilian decided to smirk, slowly turn, and then swiftly get out of the way before the shot even could hurt them. They jumped at the person wrestling them down to the floor, but their iron grip hurt them. This person was strong, and not only comfortable with weapons. “Is this how you want it huh…?” 

“You shouldn’t have given me the opportunity or the idea.” Civilian whispered with a thrill that rarely filled them.

This person smirked, “as you wish.” Civilian could feel them relax in and it threw them off. A kick to their gut hit and they groaned, allowing their kidnapper to get up pushing Civilian to their stomach again. “Better?”

Civilian gasped and just glared at them. They laughed and picked up each of their arms, holding them in an iron grip way too high. The pressure was too much, and got even tenser, as the pressure got even worse. Soon enough they arm were cuffed behind their arms and legs secured. 

“Walk.” They demanded, pulling them up and pushing them forward. The hallway was long and at the end of it was a big room for storage, but first, they turned left. 

“What is this place?”

Civilian got a slap to their head as an answer and their kidnapper snarled, “none of your damn business.” In a swift movement, the kidnapper had a grip of their arms. Shuffled a thick cloth bag over their head. Keeping them from seeing anything further and even walk properly. Civilian felt like the duffel bag they had to the gym.

The small steps Civilian was forced to take and the pain that spread fast mainly from their arms. It all was humiliating and unexpected.

“What’s this about, Sidekick?” Someone asked, equally harsh as Sidekick. 

Civilian fell to their knees, grunting loud on the cold floor. “It’s a god damned rocky!” The bag was pulled off and there were people around them, making them feel so very small. “Let’s see who you tried to call, shall we?”

Civilian tensed and it was like time and space stopped in the room. “I didn’t try to call anyone, I swear.” The one, they knew as Villain came closer to them. Civilian were happy they didn’t have an id or anywhere where their name was clear. “I only wanted to find my way home…”

Villain cupped their face and analyzed their clothes. Their eyes and their visible muscles from their slim clothes. “A rocky, huh?” Villain doubted that, strongly. “I would rather say a curious bastard, who can’t read a sign.” 

Sidekick walked around Civilian like a guard dog, always on guard. “They certainly can fight like a hero… The spirit is there as well.”

Villain’s eyes traveled from someone who had to be a guard, to sidekick, and then to Civilian. Who desperately tried to hide how nervous they were. “I don’t believe for a second that you’re a hero, but I give you a second chance. Are you a hero or not?”

Civilian knew they should deny it, they weren’t a hero. How did you become a hero anyway? “As soon as I am free I will drag you to where you belong myself!” Civilain dared challenge Villain, who smirked. 

“Oh… You’re truly are a rocky, by the look on your face you know who I am.” Villain purred and took an agonizing grip around Civilian’s throat, “just because you just made your choice, I’ll give you the welcome every hero gets here. And you’ll soon see what I am capable of.”

Civilian didn’t get any room to breathe and their limps twitch to lack of air.

“Guards see to it that they get it nice and comfortable stay, sidekick why don’t you make sure they don’t make any more mistakes, hmm?” Villain ordered and let Civilian fall to the ground and hiss in pain. Taking gulps of precious air.

“Sure…” Sidekick gestured to a few guards that it was time to go, Civilian was dragged out of the room. Only to see a smug smile on Villain’s face before the door shut.

If you like my work, please click this link -> https://ko-fi.com/phoenix_feather711

[aboyandhisstarship]

Humans are weird Purity/ the emergency broad cast system

The TV tones pulsed three times before a forth long one the TV flashed “this is not a test.” As a voice said “this is the Emergency broadcast system, colonial authorities advise the public to proceed to safe area’s and to follow the lead of lead of armed Military Personal, be alert and carry with you one personal bag, this is not a drill…this is the emergency broadcast system…”

A jet engine blasted over head as the TV flickered off.

24 hours earlier:

T’Las sat in her quarters as she started to write “being on a human warship puts me in a strange circumstance…many people have contacted me hoping to learn if the humans have as powerful weapons as some rumors claim…well after much cajoling and the agreement to let a Human military officer read and if necessary reedit this report (say hello LT!) Hey guys…this is weird…does this microphone actually work…anyway don’t worry not much ended up being cut.

 Now first off is the main offensive weapon of Human war ships, the Magnetic  Accelerator Cannon (M.A.C.) a M.A.C. gun speeds up a shell to a percentage of the speed of the speed of light (for ships usually between 12 and 15 percent) firing the shell into the enemy ship…this is incredibly effective it is predicted a low powered human M.A.C. round could punch through 4 ships before slowing down and being combat ineffective.  It is also the main planetary defense platform of earth and her colonies, these M.A.C.S are two kilometre long behemoths.  This one works the same way but fire there slugs 25 % of the speed of light…and spirits help you if it hits your ship.

 Rail-guns: the secondary weapons on a human ships fire rounds rapidly and are designed mostly to take out missiles and rockets (more on those later) but are also use for anti-fighter and anti-ship activates.

Missiles: now humans are quite keen on these and every ship is equipped with several tubes to fire these things.  Human have 2 major kinds

 Nuclear: a nuclear missile or Nuke as the humans call it are the most powerful in ship to ship combat, it is a reactor rigged to blow and destroy an area usually about 50 km wide.

Electromagnetic plus: the humans want you alive so they fire a different kind of nuke at you, knocks out your power and allow you to be boarded.

T’Las was about to say more when all of a sudden lights went red and The captain went over the inter com saying “we are now in a War state, all hands battle stations.”

*the following report was granted by the SICON Office of Naval intelligence under the freedom of information act*

Cahlti star empire is the official name for hat we have called “fanatical Purifier’s.”  a heavily militarized state that believes all other alien life is an front to the their spiritual existence as such relations with these groups are no existent in a peaceful sense, they have often attacked other neighboring species claiming that it is bandits well aware that any race that wishes to fight a war against them would have bad time…there is a phrase on earth “don’t fight a land war in Asia.” Trying to invade the Cahlti would be like fighting a land war in Asia,7 years of hard fighting and would result in millions of dead.

  Valley Forge:

The camera flew through the bridge as the ships lights were blaring red a Human Crew member said “ma’am we have 45 boogies on our scanners, all armed…it is unknown how much of the force is left, but they engaged the M.A.C platforms, and have won the engagement.”

Hernandez said “Alight, Chief, where is Battle Group Fortress?”

A coms officer turned her chair around “picking up black box’s ma’am, it seems Fortress was forced to retreat….Manticore is 45 seconds behind us…they will engage the fleet…I am picking up confirmed reports of ground combat.”

Hailey took a deep breath “hard launch we are coming in, get Dagger prepped, there mission is locate the governor, arm rail guns load nukes and Get the M.A.C online…open up as soon as we drop out of Chekov, dump dagger same time.”

Hernandez said “T’Las get geared up…you are dropping.”

The camera cut out and changed to a rocking motion as T’Las screamed in a metal pod as Ericson’s said “Dagger 0-1 to Overlord come in.”

A voice with a drawl answered “we are picking you up Dagger 0-1…”

Ericson said “everyone hold on, we are almost to touch down …Over Lord do you have contact with the Governor!”

Overlord said “that’s a negative Dagger 0-1 we have not been able to locate her before the winter contingency was activated…we will pass on the address to her  house, however we have confirmed enemy presence in the region, happy hunting.”

Ericson called “Roger…detach in 4, 3, 2,1!”

T’Las screamed again as her metal shell blew and she was in the air above some neighborhood a pair of human jets blasted through the air above them and her body jerked as her jets kicked in and she crashed through the roof of a house, a human family lay on the floor in a pool of blood, the TV blasting a series of tones...as a robotic voice said “this is the emergency broadcast system…”

 Ericson said “Futuba turn that TV off.”

Futuba responded “on it boss!”

Porthos sniffed around as Abebi said “boss, the coordinate’s Overlord gave us are…4 blocks east of us.”

Ericson nodded coldly “Safety’s off, but pick your targets…combat wedge, T’Las you’re in middle stay close.”

T’Las nodded as a jet blasted overhead again the camera cut again.

 The camera turned back on as Ericson entered saying “woof….Depoint?”

The woman advanced taking one look at the body saying “can confirm she is dead…tortured to death sir…”

Ericson groaned “confirm it’s her…Overlord this is Dagger o-1 we have a possible ID on the governor…”

Over lord responded “uhh Roger that, Dagger 0-1 what is her status?”

Depoint called “can DNA confirms it LT.”

The camera panned to show T’Las bent over with Abebi patting her back as Porthos whinnied Abebi said “easy let it out.”

Ericson said “Depoint check on T’Las, Overlord…Governor is confirmed KIA…who is next in the chain of command…”

Overlord was clearly nervous cursing “fuck…uh let me get back to you Dagger 0-1.”

T’Las vomited again, a Green sludge coming of her mouth as Depoint said “easy…do you feel dizzy?”

T’Las nodded “a bit.”

Ericson walked over saying “how is she?”

Depoint said “I’m no expert sir, but she is in shock….she may need some care Sir.”

T’Las was visibly shaking saying “they gutted her like fish…I have seen videos of it on earth…but to a living thing.”  She bent over again vomiting.

Ericson smiled “what you are feeling is perfectly normal ok, just breath through it…if you ever feel like you are in distress let us know ok.”

Ericson radio cracked to life “Uhh Dagger 0-1 this is overlord…what is your rank?”

The squad look at each other as Ericson said “lieutenant first class, ODT…”

The voice dropped the southern drawl speaking in a British accent “Lieutenant Junior Grade Marco Paul-son sir…uhhh I’m in the logistics core sir…I was in the command center by sheer chance, in the opening attack the hostile’s hit a building…where the rest of Civilian and military leadership, calls came in for the command center…so I pretended to General Barrows….I know I wasn’t supposed to, but no one would have listened…they needed orders…a calm voice in there ear…but I’m over my head…I found it who is highest ranking officer on the planet…it’s me.”

The squad went quiet as Ericson stood straight “listen good son because I am only going to say this once, you have been doing a great job, so stop doubting and start commanding.”

Ericson flicked off the private channel saying “Over lord Dagger 0-1 mission ended in failure  where do you need us.”

Overlord had tears in their eyes but shook it off saying “uhhh Right, Dagger 0-1…we have reports of a squad of marines trying to lead a group of civs to safety, these guys are under equipped and terrified, show the flag and help them, it will do wonders for them to see a ODT team.”

Ericson nodded “roger Sir…we have their location.”

  3 hour later:

T’Las leaned on a wall as Bullets flew past mowing down the aliens before she look up seeing hundreds of metal pods, Overlord said “all friendlies be aware ODT teams are dropping in quadrant 4 and 6, link up with them if at all possible, all air units cover there landing.”  With that the camera cut.

 5 hours later:

 T’Las was on a stretcher Depoint said “you will be ok.”

Ericson plucked down next to a young man hitting him on the shoulder “how you are holding up?”

The kid formally known as overlord said “I’m a hero apparently…don’t feel like it.”

Ericson grinned “you saved a planet…that sounds like hero work to me.”

The kid laughed “thank you sir.”

The camera cut out.

[consumeconstantly]

SBGS ch 6

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ao3 

2:00AM | CoffeeVamp: marinette dupain cheng could step on me and i would thank her

CoffeeVamp: did you all see how bad ass that girl was

CoffeeVamp: she was just like demon spawn is robin? Well fuck you for being in paris

CoffeeVamp: and her file oml this girl does so much for paris and he classmates treat her like CRAP

Daddy: How do you know her Damian? Clearly you guys have met before. Can you really trust her with your identity?

Jesus: this girl has been keeping her own secret identitieS under wraps for years I doubt she’ll rat 

CoffeeVamp: DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON MDC 

CoffeeVamp: all i ever wanted was for MDC to design smth for me but u ruined ALL my chances demon spawn !!!!

2:15 AM | TheOG: I think we can trust her

TheOG: Don’t think she trusts us tho

CoffeeVamp: yea what was with the zip ties 

CoffeeVamp: do you have smth to tell us ;))) 

CoffeeVamp: have u been getting spicy in paris ;))) 

CoffeeVamp: remember to use protection we don’t need any mini yous around

LadyLady: she’s good. I can see why Ladybug trusts her

DemonSpawn: She’s a friend I met in Paris. She can keep a secret.

2:20 AM | DemonSpawn: I regret not trusting her. 

CoffeeVamp: i cant believe that u thought someone who was nice enough to spend time wu willingly could be a supervillain

Jesus: that’s pretty fucked up man

Jesus: Surprised she didn’t rail on you more for that. I would’ve given you a beat down

LadyLady: u need a game plan to get her on your side. She doesn’t have a good reason to trust u anymore and id like it if we were on good terms with the one person that can contact lb

The OG: ^^ babs is always right

TheOG: you only have two weeks

DemonSpawn: How do I get on her good side?

Jesus: you better hope and pray because girls like that do not forgive easy

TheOG: try being her friend again

Jesus: like she wants to be his friend anymore

LadyLady: Apologize to her.

#

Jason is right.

It’s clear that Marinette does not want to be involved with him any longer. Marinette comes in right as the bell rings, then faces firmly ahead and doesn’t spare him a single glance. Notes that he slips to her are ignored. She doesn’t check her phone for his texts except for once, when she texts him: anything related to last night will be discussed out of school.

Instead of going home for lunch, she willingly sits with Lila, just so she can avoid him cornering her in the bakery. Damian watches them from a distance, but he’s close enough to hear most of the conversations. Most of their other classmates are taken in by some video on Alya’s. There’s a quick exclamation from the Ladyblogger, saying something about being able to meet some American celebrity, and she and the rest of the class run off to somewhere else, though not before inviting Lila and Adrien. They’re turned down, and Marinette continues to sit with the two of them.

“We’ve got a photo shoot together later today.” Adrien sounds tired. Like he’s giving up, almost. 

“Would you like to come, Marinette?” 

Damian can’t make out Marinette’s reply, but she must say yes, because Lila’s calculated facade slips away to reveal shock and interest. Lila entwines her fingers with Adrien’s, an act Adrien clearly isn’t expecting, as he flinches. 

Marinette levels a glance at Lila, who looks surprised at Adrien’s reaction, not that Damian can blame her; she practically hangs off Adrien every day, playing up their couple relationship for the media, and Adrien never reacts like this. He inches closer. Lila reaches out to touch Adrien on the shoulder, in a gesture of soothing, but Adrien flinches again, this time gaining a distant look in his eyes and starting to breath hard. Lila goes to kneel--it’s clear that Adrien is on the verge of a full blown panic attack-- but Marinette holds Lila by her arm and shakes her head, gesturing for her to wait off to the side. 

Adrien’s reactions are trademarks of an abuse victim. His reactions are rather dramatic in comparison to the clenched jaw and distant eyes that he normally sees in kids in Gotham, which leads Damian to the conclusion that this is either a more recent thing, or when he is abused, he emphasizes his weakness in attempt to get the attacker to stop. The question of who seems rather redundant; everyone knows that Adrien Agreste is the sheltered, sunshine boy who never stepped a foot out of his mansion before turning twelve. Though he models, his actions are still highly restricted. There’s not really much of a chance for Adrien’s abuser to be anyone other than the people within his immediate vicinity, so the suspects were his father, the personal assistant, his drive, or someone he works with.

He’ll have to keep this information in mind moving forward. Though Damian ordered extensive background checks on each and every student at Francois Dupont, he only read the profiles of the people in his class, and only keeps tabs on the people that are of interest.nIn Mlle. Bustier’s class, the only people who Damian is interested in are Marinette, for obvious reasons, Lila Rossi, for the sheer number of times she was akumatized during year two of Hawkmoth’s presence, Chloe Bourgeois, who may not be Francois Dupont student, let alone in France at the moment, but has a parent who currently sits at the top of his family’s Hawkmoth suspect list and has gotten countless people akumatized, and Adrien Agreste, the only person other than Marinette who hasn’t been akumatized in the akuma class. If Adrien really is being abused-- and he doesn’t really see any reason for Adrien to fake the symptoms, given that there’s really nothing for him to gain out of this situation-- that knocks him up a space on the list of Hawkmoth suspects. Victims of abuse, especially in a high profile situation, are often likely to either lash out or coop themselves up. Since he isn’t purposely excluding himself from activities, given that he converses with Marinette, Lila, and two other classmates named Nino and Alya, it’s possible that he has adopted Hawkmoth as an alter ego to pursue revenge. 

All this, of course, is mere speculation. Before making any abrupt jumps in his logic, like he did with Marinette-- though he defends himself with the fact that his thoughts on her being Hawkmoth were mere speculation, and that it was merely coincidence or a case of extremely bad luck that Marinette… what, thought he was Hawkmoth as well and then passed the information onto Ladybug? Now that he thinks about it, the whole situation seems ridiculous, and he finds that Ladybug’s lack of tact when coming face to face with her supposed arch-nemesis doesn’t befit a hero of her caliber. She seemed oddly emotional about the whole thing, like his existence as Hawkmoth was a personal betrayal. But Ladybug and Damian never met before that. Why did Ladybug take Marinette’s personal vendetta upon herself? His head hurts.

Damian finds himself walking over to their table, where Marinette is speaking in soothing tones, careful not to touch Adrien at all. He calms down enough to start breathing regularly. Even though his eyes are still watery, he looks up at Marinette with a tentative smile. Marinette looks back at him with such pure, unadulterated love, that Damian blinks slowly to make sure he’s not seeing things. There aren’t many people who show emotions that don’t have some hidden barb underneath, or an undercurrent of a different emotion alongside it. 

Then, Marinette sends a calculating look at Damian, and a briefer one at Lila and Adrien. 

“Lila, can I talk to you in private for a moment?” Although Marinette’s tone keeps to a pleasant range, Damian finds it rather familiar. Like when Alfred pulls him or one of his brothers to the side to politely tell them what they’re doing wrong and how to remedy it. But there’s a bit of genuine ferocity in Marinette’s tone, and the Italian girl steps back. 

“Adrien, I’m going to leave you here with Damian just for a second, okay? I’ll be right back, and if you need me for anything, just call.” She gives Damian a look that says if you hurt this boy, I will end you and heads off with Lila. 

“Damian,” Adrien says. He’s trying to come off as calm and cheery. He misses the mark terribly. Somehow, Damian gets the feeling that the boy isn’t very good at bottling up his emotions, odd, considering that he’s grown up partially in the limelight. “I see you’re well acquainted with our everyday Ladybug. She really is amazing.”

There’s a touch of awe, and it makes Damian uncomfortable for no good reason. 

He’s not sure how to deal with people who look like they’re about to cry. Damian doesn’t have to deal with that. Dick’s in charge of any emotional clean up that’s necessary in the public; Alfred helps his family manage their emotions in the manor. He decides that going with the flow is the best option in this situation. An everyday Ladybug. What an interesting piece of terminology.

“She is.” Damian admits,  “We’re not currently on the best of terms.” 

Damian will be surprised if Marinette even manages to civilly work with him for the rest of the week. He wasn’t expecting their subsequent interactions after last night to be the same as they were prior to her finding out that he was Robin and thinking that she was Hawkmoth, but he thought she would just interact coolly with him. Not this silent treatment. She refuses to talk to him and only looks at him with some combination of disdain and ill intent. 

He can’t manage to give her the same treatment, both because he is on a mission and because he can’t fault her for thinking that he was Hawkmoth. The situation is really, rather comical, but he spent enough time ruminating on his actions the previous night to pick up on all of the red flags that made her come to that conclusion, and even is she was a hero for a short period of time, he can’t expect someone who is, by and large, a civilian to have the same investigative capabilities his family does. If anything, he is ashamed of himself for jumping to the conclusion that she was Hawkmoth, when instead, it turned out she is working for Ladybug. 

However, the Marinette he’s seen so far doesn’t seem the type to hold grudges, especially not when it comes to any pressing issue, and he finds that all of the decisions she makes are heavily logic-based and influenced by Sabine’s values, who is definitely an upright woman if he’s ever seen one. Marinette has too strong of a work ethic to actually ignore Damian when it comes down to it, but he has to wonder why she acted so blatantly hostile to him. Her character combined with her actions just don’t match up, which means there's another reason why she’s acting this way. 

While Damian excels at extracting raw data and testimonies from people due to brute force, and is decent enough at getting people to do what he desires, determining the source of a person’s frustration, what drives a person-- he needs more work with that. He’s much better at getting people mad. And Damian doesn’t think he’s seen Marinette mad at anyone except for Celia DeVries. She has nerves made of steel and patience carved from diamond.

“I hope you figure it out.” Adrien says with such sincerity that it’s frightening. He’s surprisingly pure-hearted for a model entrenched in a mega corporation like Gabriel. The entertainment industry, particularly the fashion side of business, is a very cut throat world. Adrien doesn’t seem like a person who’s been in the public eyes for years. “Please be a better friend to her than I am. I really wanted to do more for her, but my hands are... tied.”

Lila is subdued when she and Marinette return. Her eyes dart to Adrien, and she frowns and bites her bottom lip. Then she looks away and crosses her arms. 

“Let’s get back to class. I’m excited to go to the photoshoot after school! I haven’t spent any time with you in so long, Adrien.” Marinette doesn’t sound like she’s faking it. She sounds so genuinely happy, and Damian wonders if he can make her sound like that again. If he ever made her sound like that. 

Adrien looks at Marinette, then asks Damian, “Would you like to come too?”

The look that Adrien gives him tells him to say yes, even though he can feel the cold that radiates off Marinette. Damian agrees; it’s time to try Barbara’s suggestion and apologize, and since he doubts that he’ll get a word in edgewise when they’re working together at night, he has to try apologizing sooner.

The rest of the school day slips by in a blur. 

Then, the four of them are out on the streets, and Damian finds their combination unnerving, to say the least. He’s still on bad terms with Marinette, and Marinette has never been on the best terms with Lila. She’s going to this shoot solely for the opportunity to be with Adrien, and something about that unsettles Damian. Still, regardless of how Damian feels, the photographer on the set of Adrien and Lila’s shoot loves all four of them.

“Fantastico! Adrien’s friends are rare finds. It’s true about what they say; beautiful people, they associate with beautiful people.” The photographer flits around Damian and Marinette, getting uncomfortably close. Damian shoots him a glare, but the photographer simply takes it in stride.

“Yes, yes, the most beautiful eyes, so passionate. The perfect measurements, too! Lara,” he calls to one of his assistants, “Get them all to makeup. These four are who I’ve been waiting for to fulfil my vision of envy. Gabriel will have to wait on his magazine spread. I’ve been inspired!” The photographer circles the four of them, like a hunter and his prey. 

Out of nowhere, the photographer grasps Marinette’s chin, and despite the initial flinch she gives-- he’s not sure whether she was going to kick or punch him, but the sudden spitfire in her eyes said she was going to do something-- she settles into a locked jaw and curled fingers. Damian sees a slight jump from Adrien as well, which seems unusual; on the way over, he talked about how he worked with this photographer before and was very comfortable with him. He regaled them with funny stories of how he tended to reference spaghetti in shoots that were less pleasant to make the models laugh. 

“Ah, Adrien, you have truly delivered the favor of Fortuna upon me. I cannot believe I never saw this earlier. You have brought this girl to shoots before, have you not? I never forget a beautiful face, even when I am focused on other things.” 

Marinette calmly displaces Vincent’s hand from her face. “Thank you for the kind words, Monsieur, but I think it best that we just watch the originally planned shoot. I am no model and have no interest in being one.”

Vincent gives Marinette a once over, like he’s not used to people disagreeing with whatever vision he has for the day. “From one artist to the next-- this project is important to me. I’ve had the idea for years, but have yet to come across the perfect models to portray it. What will it take to convince you? ”

At this, nearly all the tension that Marinette has coiled up in her shoulders dissipates. Vincent has said the right thing. “I see. Really, Vincent, I think it’s best that you continue with the Gabriel shoot. M. Agreste wouldn’t be happy if he found out that his spread was delayed.”

“But the Muse, Mademoiselle! She runs away so quickly. And the four of you are perfect.” Vincent turns to the other three. 

“Surely, you understand. Mlle. Rossi, M. Agreste, you must have felt an urge to do something so strongly that it pulls you in. And you,” he looks more closely at Damian. “You are an artist as well, aren’t you Monsieur? I can tell. It’s in the hands and eyes. Art, she comes, but she is fickle. If I don’t do this now, it will be gone forever. And the pursuit of true art means more than any Gabriel spread.”

Surprisingly, it is Adrien who responds first. “I might not understand art, Vincent, but I know what you’re talking about. The feeling of wanting to do something badly, to set yourself free…”

He twists his ring. Marinette looks at him sadly again, hands twitching like she wants to hold him to provide comfort. 

“Besides, I don’t really want to do a Gabriel spread today. I haven’t spent time with friends in a long time, and I don’t think anything could make me happier than doing a photoshoot with you three right now.”

This makes Lila look at Adrien in a curious sort of way. Not the sad look that Marinette is giving him, but one of a slowly dawning realization. When Adrien references her as a friend, she looks happy. Proud, almost. Then, she looks like she’s connecting dots in her head, and she doesn’t look happy with the conclusion that she’s drawn. As soon as the frown  touches her lips, Lila shifts back to an impeccably crafted mask. 

Damian doesn’t agree with the sentiment that they are friends. He has barely had a full conversation with the blond, though he will admit that Adrien does have more of a brain than the rest of his classmates. He looks at the ill-concealed shadows beneath Adrien’s eyes and sees Tim.

Lila agrees almost immediately after Adrien finishes speaking. “Inspiration is fleeting. Art waits for no one.”

Marinette purses her lips. She asks Vincent, “You won’t get in any trouble for this?”

“I can handle any backlash Gabriel throws at me. Heaven knows that man has pissed off one too many photographers before.”

“You can, but what about everybody else involved?” She looks at Adrien, specifically. He fidgets with his ring again, and sends Marinette a look so pleading that she sighs. “Fine. I don’t mind doing the shoot.”

“Fantastico!” He turns his gaze to Damian.

“I’ll do it.” He’s never been particularly fond of photographers, given that the invasiveness of the media has led his family to various unpleasant situations, but Cass went through a photography phase, and out of all of his ‘sibling’ relationships, he is the most willing to indulge her. 

“Will you tell us what the subject of the shoot is?” Marinette has inched closer to Adrien. Adrien pauses, stops fidgeting with his ring, and looks at Marinette. A world weary smile creeps onto his face, and his hand reaches out for Marinette’s like he wasn’t expecting himself to do that. He looks surprised when he finds his hand in hers, tenses for a moment. But Marinette doesn’t say anything, and rubs soothing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. This seems to relax him more than fidgeting with his ring. He sags, and Damian can’t bring himself to feel anything but pity for Adrien. Lila looks curious, but not jealous. 

Vincent surveys the four of them again, a growing smile on his face. “No, I think the four of you are already perfetto. A little direction here and there, but yes, yes, this is very good.”

“Lara, bring them to makeup. You know what to do. I must set up! Don’t call Gabriel; we will most likely be taking this to a second location at sunset.” Then, Vincent is off, muttering something in Italian under his breath. 

“Thank you so much for agreeing to do this shoot,” Adrien rambles as soon as they get into makeup. “Vincent is such a great photographer and he’s taken really good care of me over the years. He’ll take good care of all of you as well.”

He continues, a little softer. “I really wanted to spend time with the three of you, together. I--I think it would be really nice if we could all be friends.”

Damian has his eyes closed because eyeshadow is being applied, but he can practically feel the surprise rolling off Marinette.

“Adrien, we are friends already.” 

“We are, but we’re not really close. The only person I talked to often was Nino, and recently, father has-- ” he breaks off, looking exceedingly uncomfortable, before speaking quickly in an attempt to speak up before losing his nerve. “But I don’t just mean friends with me, I mean the four of us. I want the four of us to be friends.”

The makeup artist who is working on Adrien shushes him, but Damian gets to open his eyes. Adrien is clearly nervous. He’s not shaking-- he is bred far too well for that-- but he has reverted back to fidgeting with his ring. He tries to bite his lip, but the makeup artist shakes her head and tuts.

The girls are both silent, and Adrien looks so nervous that he has to do something. He doesn’t think he’s interacted like this with anyone as nervous as Adrien before; his brothers were all big personalities, as were the Teen Titans. He may have come across nervous or anxious civilians as Robin, but those situations were more straight and cut, involving little to no talking. Damian decides to that a cross between how he interacts with Dick and how he interacts with the people he saves is the best bet for this situation, though his tone comes out more condescending than he planned.

“Why the four of us?” Damian can’t really see why Adrien has singled out the four of them. As far as he can tell, there’s no good blood between them. Adrien, Marinette, and Damian all harbor varying levels of dislike or discomfort towards Lila; Adrien, Lila, and Damian have all fucked over Marinette in various ways (or so he Damian assumes on Adrien’s part-- he is sure they would have been closer, otherwise); Lila, Marinette and Damian haven't talked to Adrien in any capacity that implies that they're more than mere acquaintances; Damian has done nothing that would put himself in the favor of the three. 

Adrien fidgets even more, and the makeup artist smacks him and says that she doesn’t want to have to redo his eyeliner. “I think we all have a lot in common. And, I might not be good at showing it, but I like the three of you.”

Marinette makes some noise in disbelief and Lila narrows her eyes. 

“Hear me out on this, guys. All of us try to help people when we can,”

“That’s basic human decency, Adrien,” Marinette says.

“Me, helping people?” Lila scoffs.

“We help people out more than most people do-- and Lila, you really do help people. Sure, you might not have been telling the truth about all of the celebrities or all of the charities you worked with, but you’ve helped a lot of charities throughout the years.”

Damian quirks an eyebrow. “And me?”

“I’ve heard about Silverstein and Company.” Adrien says, then continues on with his list of Reasons Why They Should Be Friends. 

“None of us like telling people about our problems.”

This is met with no resistance.

“And we’re also all lonely.”

Silence. 

Marinette’s makeup artist breaks up the oppressive silence, “And all good looking to boot!”

“It’s true what they say about the most beautiful,” Lila’s makeup artist says, “They’re always so troubled.”

Marinette laughs, but it’s strained. “Don’t worry Mademoiselle. We’re just being teens.”

“Loneliness isn’t a good reason to form relationships.” Lila says. Her voice is quiet. She looks off to some fixed point in the distance.

“It’s not the worst reason there ever was,” Adrien shrugs, satisfied now that he’s said his piece. His shoulders are back a little more now. Whatever happens next is up to them, not him. “And I like all of you. I think we all have very unique personalities that could work well together.”

Marinette shrugs her shoulders. “If there’s one thing that I’ve learned about relationships, it’s that initial compatibility means very little in the grand scheme of things. Relationships can work as long as you work for them. They might not be the fairy tale storyline that people chase after, but relationships that are worked on last longer. Adrien could be right. We might be able to all be good friends.”

Lila fixes Marinette with a stare. “You’re willing to be my friend? After what I did to you?”

Marinette shouldn’t be willing to be friends with Lila after what she did. In fact, after reading multiple books on healthy relationships when trying to cope with Chloe way back when, she shouldn’t be willing to be friends with any of them. It feels fucked up, but Marinette realizes that Damian, who believed she was a super villain, has the least strikes against a healthy relationship currently. 

Even though Marinette knows that circumstance doesn’t excuse any of them-- Marinette doesn’t excuse her stalkerish tendencies back when she first met Adrien, either-- she knows that the three of them are just teens who have too many responsibilities and problems on their shoulders. They’re capable of change, and as both Ladybug and Marinette, she wants to believe that someone’s past actions doesn’t mean they can’t move forward. Perhaps their current actions should be taken with a healthy dose of cynicism, and perhaps their past colors how much Marinette will be able to trust them in certain areas, but throughout her years of existence she’s seen that there is no person who has only done good in their life.

“You’ve been better lately. I respect someone who changes themselves for the better.” What Marinette doesn’t say; she’s mostly willing to try this tentative friendship out for Adrien’s sake, because Lila seems to be the only one who can get Gabriel Agreste on her side and Marinette needs her help if she and Adrien’s trust if she can ever dream of emancipating Adrien. 

Marinette is also confident that Lila is currently coming into her own, and knows that Lila didn’t have any good example to model herself after during her formative years. The fact that she’s changing now? It’s honestly pretty impressive, and even more so considering the people that are in Mme. Bustier’s class aren’t exactly cut from the most inspirational cloth. Why Lila is trying to change is something Marinette is curious about, but they’re definitely not close enough for Marinette to ask Lila that. There is also the very important fact that Lila has not been akumatized this entire year, nor has she gone out of her way to encourage someone else’s akumatization.

A small smile settles on Lila’s face. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, I am … sorry for what I did to you back then.”

Marinette hums with her eyes closed as a light layer of shadows placed on her crease. “I accept your apology. While we’re on this topic, I’d like to apologize to Adrien. I’m sorry that I haven’t been a very good friend to you. You’re an amazing person, and I want you to know that. Your self-worth should never be degraded by other people, and I really hope that you can come to rely on me.”

A watery, affectionate smile from Adrien. “Marinette, you’ve always been one of my best friends.”

“I regret what I said to you yesterday,” Damian cannot muster an apology-- he does not apologize, certainly not for doing his job, but Marinette is… useful. He needs her to accomplish her mission, and she’s kind. 

There is no verbal response from Marinette, but she’s looking at him, at least. She hasn’t looked at him all day besides the one glare she gave him that told him to take care of Adrien. 

Lila looks between the two of them. “What are you sorry for? I was under the impression that the two of you were great friends.”

He is sorry, if only slightly, but it takes a lot for him to get an apology. If anything, Marinette should be apologizing to him, for mistaking him as Hawkmoth, right? “Last night was--”

Marinette cuts him off with a sharp laugh. “Damian here thought I was Hawkmoth.”

Adrien bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, you thought Marinette was Hawkmoth? Out of all the Parisians you could choose! You know she goes around the city saving random people, right? She’s our everyday Ladybug. Doesn’t sound very supervillainy to me.”

Lila laughs too, and the tension in the preparation room finally breaks. “Please, if Marinette were Hawkmoth, she would have gotten Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous already. Have you seen what a planner she is?”

This gets Adrien to fake shudder. “It’s true. If Marinette really were Hawkmoth, she’d be so powerful. She knows everybody’s deepest fears, can kick ass and take names, and can come up with the weirdest plans that solve everybody’s problems in an instant. Imagine if she went to the dark side.”

“She would make an awful akuma.” Lila agrees. “How powerful you are as an akuma is linked to how strong you are mentally and how strong your emotions are when the butterfly lands on you. Whatever makes Marinette upset enough to have an akuma after her would probably be the result of some very strong emotions.”

“She’d be strong enough to level the entire city.”

Marinette is bright red, and if it were not for the fact that mascara is being applied to her lashes, she’d probably have her face buried in her hands. “Okay, okay, I would be an awful akuma. But I won’t ever be akumatized, so it’s fine.”

Adrien thinks of Marinette being an akuma more, and his face goes pale. “She really would be able to steal Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculouses successfully.”

“No, she’s too morally righteous to do that. She’d probably go after Hawkmoth and win while she was akumatized.” Lila looks pensive. “All akumas retain most of their original personality traits, just exaggerated. Some even have some semblance of control over their actions.”

“If that wouldn’t be one of Anime’s top 10 betrayals, I don’t know what is. Hawkmoth akumatizes Marinette and then she rightfully kicks his ass.”

“Guys,” Marinette hisses. “I won’t ever become an akuma. Never.”

“You say that like you can refuse Hawkmoth,” Lila laughs. “You can certainly go after akumas, but refuse them? No way.”

Adrien zeroes in on Marinette’s hesitance. “Have you?”

Marinette shifts in her seat, her mouth set into a grim line.

“You have,” Adrien says with a touch of awe. Damian is impressed too; no reports of people being able to refuse an akuma have passed through the many hours of research he’s spent scouring the internet. He understands why Ladybug put so much trust in Marinette. “When?”

This sets Marinette on edge. Her back straightens into a board. 

Lila picks at her fingernails in shame. “Did I?”

Marinette doesn’t respond, but the tremble of her mouth and her silence answers the question well enough. 

Damian doubts he’ll ever get the full story of what happened that first year when Lila arrived. Marinette isn’t one to snitch, and Lila is both unwilling and tentatively ashamed of the past. Adrien won’t answer out of courtesy. Damian will never go to any of the other classmates to hear a bastardized version of what went down. He supposes he’ll never find out the whole truth.

Marinette’s stylist claps her hand. “Okay, enough teenage angst for today. All of your makeup is done, so it’s time to get into your outfits. Let’s go, kids.”

They’re silent as they dress.

#

The shoot is a flurry of excitement. There are many whispered conversations, but Marinette can’t keep track of half of them. Whenever she isn’t in a shot-- which is fairly rare as she seems to be the main subject of whatever Vincent is shooting for-- Marinette focuses on what needs to happen next. Though she’s still not currently the biggest fan of Damian or the Justice League, she will give them a fair chance, because as much as she hates to admit it, she needs the help. Batman is right. Even though she wasn’t actively working on the case for the first year, she still had plenty of time to gather evidence to back up her main suspects. Her lack of expertise in technology hinders progress greatly.

Not to mention that because Marinette was so wary about hurting Adrien and so swamped trying to keep a balanced schedule, she wasn’t able to find enough evidence to feel safe in her convictions. Master Fu warned her of incorrectly accusing Gabriel in the eye of the public, and he hasn’t come out to fight since the Scarlet Moth incident. She’s tried to investigate Gabriel in his own house, but any evidence slips through her fingers. He’s a very careful man.

 Now that the promise of college is coming up, Marinette needs to take Hawkmoth down. Marinette doesn’t want to continue her schooling in France. Not anymore. She wants to go to a foreign college, where dreams of akumas won’t plague her at every step. Half the reason she finds herself on the streets as a civilian constantly is to erase the gory imagery of death and blood that linger in her mind eye from akuma battles. Seeing happy and alive citizens in all of the areas where Hawkmoth attacked make her feel better, but aren’t enough to chase away her nightmares entirely.

Marinette moves through the rest of the photoshoot in a haze. When she is in shot, she focuses on whoever she’s shooting with. Lila, with sharp green eyes, barely begins to lower her guard when Marinette directs the conversation towards past modelling shoots she’s been involved with. They interact unnaturally at first, but after starting to talk about Dior’s Spring/Summer ready to wear line, they find that they have similar tastes in silhouettes, though not in color. 

She forces herself to ignore the fiasco that was last night, and talks to Damian about small nothings that don’t touch on anything important. When she runs out of topics, she begins to talk about Renee, and his gaze shifts to something resembling regret and some other emotion she can’t read. Dealing with whatever issues Damian has is not ideal. He’ll have to sort out his feelings on his own.

Adrien’s expressions are the easiest to read. Whenever he’s in a shot with Marinette, he is happy, plain and simple. There is less weight on his shoulders, and as Marinette attempts to cheer him up with poorly thought out puns, he looks like a kid again. He even starts punning back, and Marinette can’t believe how much she missed that. Chat Noir stopped punning a while ago, and it hurt in unexpected ways. 

Really, Marinette just wants Adrien to be happy. Adrien is Chat Noir. Her best friend. Her partner. Marinette thinks Adrien deserves the world. She wants to pave a path for him so that his entrance into the adult world is easier, because the facade Gabriel has built of a picture perfect family attempting to cope with the loss of a mother and wife isn’t what Adrien needs.

Maybe Marinette wants him to have the childhood he wasn’t afforded. Marinette clings to warm memories of her own childhood, where Maman trained her in self defense and Papa taught her how to bake when things get particularly hard nowadays. Her heart warms when she sees Adrien give shy smiles to Damian and Lila. She’s proud when he strikes up conversations with them.

In all honesty, the only part of the shoot Marinette remembers is the last section of group photos they take when they move to a second location. It’s a cold day in Spring, which means Parisian tourists are more likely to be found inside an art museum, rather than on the beach. Adrien convinces them all that they should run around the beach, and somehow, they end up playing some extremely difficult version of capture the flag, but without the flags. 

Somehow, Marinette ends up on a team of her own, for the sole reason that she’s the only one wearing white, and the person who holds the opposing team’s flag is Damian. She tackles him onto the sand, but not before both Lila and Adrien are hot on her tail. They end up in a pile, and Adrien’s laughter rings so sweet and true, that Marinette’s heart fills with love. She shifts, so her body is facing skywards instead of into Damian’s arm, and she reaches one arm across Damian’s body to grab Lila’s hand, who flinches at first touch, but relaxes. Marinette’s other hand finds itself tangled in Adrien’s hair, and despite the cold weather, Marinette is content. 

She looks towards the horizon, where the sun is setting in a million different colors, and finds herself longing for a time where every day can be just like this moment.Where there is nothing filling her head except thoughts of the people who make her happy. Her eyes shift straight up.

Where morning fades into night, the sky is so very, very, blue.

#

Marinette’s room turns into an organized warzone at night.

The area of her room that was previously used to hold up various sketches and mood boards for designs in progress turns out not to be an upholstered wall, but a curtain that hides two whiteboards and a small library of books on the psychology of emotional manipulation, manuals of martial arts, and various books on strategy. The shelf above her desk space holds a projector that Marinette uses to project images from her computer onto the left white board. 

“I’ll catch you up on my previous attempts and what you have to know in order for this partnership to work.” She takes her tablet out, flips through several screens, then uses her fingerprint to unlock a folder of notes. “This is a chronological list of things that Ladybug and I have attempted in order to find Hawkmoth’s location. There is a separate folder with suspects for identity that’s alphabetized. If you’re interested in more in depth analyses of past akumas, I can send that to you and your team’s emails now, as most of the information is readily available online. I’m assuming that you have a team, correct?”

“Yes, I can send their email addresses to your number.”

“No, for any information regarding Hawkmoth or superheroes in Paris, you can contact me through this number and email address. Ladybug and I both check it regularly; it’s a safer, more encrypted way of communication.” Marinettte taps her Miraculous communicator and connects it to her computer, so she can work on a bigger screen. “Which person is your main point of contact?”

“Oracle.” 

Marinette contacts Oracle through video call. She doesn’t want to have to explain everything twice even if their partnership turns out to be nonviable. It takes a few moments to get through, but a woman’s face pops up on the screen. She’s a redhead and doesn’t wear a mask. Her coloring is obviously different from the rest of Batman’s affiliates, and despite her initial grievances with the white films over the vigilante’s eyes, she understand why it’s necessary; their suits aren’t magic, and there’s nothing stopping people from running facial recognition software and matching them up to people who reside in Gotham. 

“How did you get this number?” Oracle asks warily. 

Marinette moves her chair slightly so that Oracle can see Damian, who's currently looking at her tablet on her chaise. “I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, your point of contact in Paris and the one who will be working with you for the next week. As you can see, Damian’s already viewing some information that Ladybug and I have compiled over the years. Please get the rest of your team on this call. I’d like to get all of the basic information out of the way now.”

“Damian?” The girl on her screen is a dead ringer for the girl they compiled multiple files on yesterday, but she can’t get a trace on where they’re calling from, which makes her suspicious.

Damian shoots her a text, confirming that it is actually him in the room, then goes back to scrolling through the tablet.

Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, and Batman all appear on the screen shortly. 

“Great, the gang's all here,” Marinette says unenthusiastically. “I’ll say it one more time. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I will be your primary point of contact during your two weeks trial period here in Paris. I’m assuming that your team has been brought up on the events that occurred last night. In order for this attempted partnership to go more smoothly, I will provide you lists of suspects, past attempts at revealing Hawkmoth’s location, and more detailed information about all of the past akumas that have appeared. These files will only be available to you for the week unless the collaboration goes successfully. Damian has already given me your contact information.”

As an afterthought, Marinette adds, “Don’t bother trying to copy any of the files. You won’t be able to. You also won’t be able to pick up on my location through this video call; I’m using a Miraculous Communicator. The magic makes it so that any technology other than another Miraculous will be unable to find any identifying location.”

Marinette knows about this thanks to Max’s brief stint as Pegasus. Though Marinette had not yet learned spells that would allow her to materialize her communicator outside of the time that she was suited up, she had Max try to find Ladybug’s location after sending him a text. He and Markov were both unable to. 

“Since the Justice League insists on sticking their nose where it does not belong,” Marinette can’t help but be bitter about this whole situation, despite the fact that her frustration with Damian has decreased. “Ladybug and I have created a plan to make full use of your resources while you’re still butting in. I’ve sent a list of which organizations need monetary support. Most are affiliated with mental health.”

“Let’s move onto how you guys as a team can help us. As far as I understand, Batman’s team is proficient in technology and investigation. For the past two years that we’ve actively been on the case, nobody has had those skill sets and been in the long term possession of a Miraculous. The police attempted investigation for the first year, but their evidence and information was largely unhelpful. I will give Damian the Miraculous Communicator that I am in possession of to use his skills with so long as he tells me what he’s doing with it and he uses it while I’m in his immediate vicinity. He can try to find out Hawkmoth’s location on it, perhaps with a greater degree of success that we have been able to.”

She goes through the checklist she made one more time, just to make sure that she didn’t miss anything. She doesn’t really expect anything much to come out of this collaboration, except for the reassurance that the Justice League won’t interfere at the end of the week. Speaking of: “One more thing. I want a notarized agreement that the Justice League will not interfere in Paris, nor will any of their agents of affiliates be sent here if this collaboration doesn’t yield information that is already known.”

“Got a lotta spark in you, don’t you, little mouse?” The vigilante called Red Hood-- the one with a helmet instead of a stupid domino mask-- laughs. 

Marinette scowls. So far, the Justice League-- particularly the vigilantes of Gotham-- have not left her with a stunning first impression. Maybe she’s a little biased,  but they certainly don’t seem to have any respect for her. Still, she only has to work with them for two weeks. “My name is Marinette, but clearly your helmet hasn’t shielded you from the memory loss that frequent concussions have clearly given you.”

“She got you there, dumb ass,” says Red Robin, a grin a mile wide on his face.

“Hood,” sighs Oracle, sounding highly stressed. Marinette decides that she is the most likeable. “Like I said earlier, we want to be on good terms with Marinette.”

“I’ll get you the documents and funds by tomorrow.” Batman’s voice is just as gravelly as the first time she contacted him. She finds that the more she hears him speak, the more pleasant she finds his voice. An acquired taste. “Even if this week is unsuccessful, the Justice League will be more than happy to continue to fund these organizations. Is there anything that Ladybug, Chat Noir, or you need personally?”

“None of us are going to use the Justice League’s funds for personal gain, Batman.” The accusations grates on her. 

“Batman means,” Nightwing shoots a look to the side of his screen. Interesting, Marinette thinks. All of Gotham’s vigilantes are in one location, judging by their backgrounds and the location tags that her communicator provides her. Perhaps they have a headquarters of some sort. Back when there were extra heroes on the Miraculous team, Marinette sometimes wished that they had a location that they could all reliably gather at without revealing someone’s identity. It certainly would have made strategy easier. “That being a hero without any support is difficult. It must have taken a toll on your personal lives. If we can aid in any way, we will. We can excuse absences or hire tutors as necessary.”

“I’m no hero.” But Nightwing’s proposal may actually be helpful. Even though Marinette is making the grades necessary to go to the colleges that she wants, her continual absence and tardies aren’t very flattering. 

Then her mind flashes to Adrien. Can she use this offer to get him out from underneath Gabriel’s thumb? Marinette doesn’t know if she can do that. He’s already in a delicate position-- and already at risk, thanks to the photoshoot earlier today-- and she’s not sure that Gabriel won’t move towards drastic measures if anything changes on Adrien’s end. If she wants to get him away from Gabriel, she may have to reveal his secret identity.

“Ladybug will make the decision for herself; she has access to everything that is said during our meetings. Chat Noir isn’t in the loop about our communications or any of the investigations that Ladybug and I have done. Ladybug says that he’s stressed in his civilian life, which is why his appearances have been decreasing,” Marinette admits. “I’ll leave it up to Ladybug to give your offer to Chat Noir. If I can get a reliable excuse to get out of class or get to class late, that would be greatly appreciated.”

“Chat Noir doesn’t know?” Red Robin sounds horrified. 

“He’s currently a high risk for being akumatized. Ladybug didn’t want to risk it.” 

Red Hood crosses his arms. “So you have more of a job than Chat Noir does in all of these Paris heroics, huh?”

Even if Chat Noir did know, Marinette would have her hand in the pie at least twice as much as him. 

“I wouldn’t say that. I’m just more available than he is.”

“And more trusted than he is,” Red Hood insists. 

It’s not that Ladybug trusts Marinette more than she trusts Chat Noir, it’s that Ladybug is Marinette. But she’s not going to admit that. Not to them, and certainly not until Hawkmoth is taken down. Maybe not even then. She can only imagine the looks of devastation that she’ll get if she does admit that she’s been Ladybug all these years. Her parents will freak out, Adrien will probably feel heart broken and betrayed, and Alya and the rest of her classmates will inevitably rail on either her or Lila or both of them. It just doesn’t sound appealing to her anymore, though she can certainly remember a time not so long ago where she so desperately wanted to expose her identity. 

“You’d have to ask Ladybug that,”  Marinette settles on. She copies and pastes one of the many messages that she has pre drafted and schedules it to send a few minutes later, so Batman’s team receives a communication from Ladybug while Marinette is at the white board. She spent all of last night preparing for this meeting, imagining so many scenarios that she barely slept. The email she’s sending will suggest what Damian should attempt to do with the Miraculous communicator that Marinette has. She adds in an extra comment that she trusts Chat Noir with her life, and that she’ll talk to him about offering him help in his civilian life, but won’t mention anything about the Justice League. 

“Why doesn’t Ladybug just use her own communicator to join in on these calls?” Red Robin asks after receiving her email.

Marinette turns from the white board, where she is listing the past three akuma attacks and where her top three suspects were at each of the times. “There may be magic surrounding her identity, but that doesn’t mean Ladybug wants more time for all of you to try to figure out her identity.”

“Sounds irresponsible of her,” says Red Hood. “Leaving a civilian to do all of the dirty work. Who are those people you have listed on the board?”

Marinette decides to let the comment about Ladybug slide. Red Hood is currently her least favorite out of all of Gotham’s vigilantes, but she has to remind herself that respect is mutual, and Ladybug hasn’t really given them much to go on.

“The top three suspects for Hawkmoth. Gabriel Agreste, the CEO and head designer of Gabriel. Nathalie Sancouer, Gabriel Agreste’s personal assistant of over twenty years. Mikael Bordeaux, CFO of Silverstein and Company's French holdings.”

Oracle takes off her glasses and wipes them. “Sounds like your top candidates are all people in pretty high positions.”

“Agreste,” repeats Nightwing. “Agreste, as in Adrien Agreste? The boy that’s in Damian’s class?”

“The same,” Marinette says, not sure she likes where he’s taking this conversation.

“Hold up,” Red Robin says after a few moments. “Why is it that Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancouer are on your list? Both Gabriel and Nathalie have been akumatized before. That should automatically take them out of the running.”

Marinette shakes her head. “That’s what I thought in the beginning, while the police were still in charge of the case. But based on my understanding of akumas, it’s very possible that Hawkmoth can transform, send out an akuma, then detransform and let themself be akumatized.”

The whole Collector incident was a deliberate ploy to throw her off. She spent at least half a year convinced that Gabriel and Hawkmoth couldn’t possibly be one in the same, despite the fact that he had the Miraculous Tome.

“What about Adrien, then? He’s the only one in your class that hasn’t been akumatized, sans yourselves, he hangs out with the people most likely to cause and become akumas, and has caused a fair number of akumas himself. Besides, he must know it if his dad’s Hawkmoth, which means he could be Mayura or even Hawkmoth himself.” Even if Red Robin presented her this theory before Marinette knew Adrien was Chat Noir, she wouldn’t have believed it. 

“Adrien is not Hawkmoth.” Marinette isn’t sure how to explain how she knows without revealing his alter ego. She can’t tell them that he wielded the snake Miraculous either, because that contradicts her earlier statement that she didn’t know any of the other holders.

“Demon Spawn,” Red Hood says. “What do you think about Adrien? You’ve been in a class with him for the past month.”

Damian finally looks up from Marinette’s tablet, blinking to bring himself back into the situation at hand. “What?”

Marinette scoffs, remembering that he thought that she was Hawkmoth. She’s not upset about it, but she doesn’t trust his ability to discern alter egos-- at least not magical alter egos. “I wouldn’t trust Damian’s ability to read people as reliable evidence to tell whether someone is Hawkmoth or not.

This causes a myriad of reactions from Batman’s team and most of them are surprisingly loud. Red Hood whoops, “Roasted,” while Red Robin laughs and pounds the desk in front of them. Oracle smiles wide, her eyes crinkling. Even Batman manages to draw a smile to his face. 

This makes Damian put down her tablet on the chaise and flush slightly. “I said I was sorry for that.”

Marinette thinks about brushing him off in annoyance but decides against it. Just based on the evidence that he gathered, it wasn't an awful assumption, and the Miraculous magic probably prevented him from even thinking about the possibility that she could be Ladybug, leading him to the next most possible conclusion. “It’s fine.”

In fact, even if Marinette can’t trust Batman and his affiliates with Chat Noir’s civilian identity, she should still try to maneuver Adrien away from his current situation. She can call it in as a personal favor to Marinette, and as long as they have human decency, they should agree to her request. She’s been gathering receipts that detail Gabriel’s systemic abuse of Adrien for years. This is a good opportunity to begin Adrien’s emancipation process. She’s currently on her way to a better friendship with Adrien, and since Batman insists the Justice League has all the resources that she wants, there’s no reason not to take advantage of them. She turns back to the camera. 

“Adrien is not Hawkmoth and wouldn’t know whether his father or personal assistant are. In fact, it would be preferable to remove Adrien from Gabriel’s care; Adrien is in danger of being akumatized because of how awfully Gabriel treats him, and I have the evidence necessary to take him to court. I just need a legal team that’s good enough to go against a billion dollar company.” And time to convince Adrien that he needs to leave. That may be a more difficult task, considering the unending love and forgiveness he’s displayed for matters concerning his father so far. Honestly, sometimes Marinette thinks that he never learned how to hold a grudge. 

“Noted. Let’s come back to that later, though. I want to talk about some other suspects you have on this list you gave us.” Oracle readjusts her headpiece and shoots a glare over her shoulder, presumably to tell the rest of her team to quiet down and get back on task. They certainly have an interesting team dynamic. They’re much warmer to each other than Marinette first expected them to be. They’re certainly closer than she and the Miraculous Team had been, when there still was a team, at least.

Oracle shares her screen. On it is a picture of Andre Bourgeois. “If Hawkmoth is able to be akumatized, then Mayor Bourgeois is one of our top suspects. The Justice League has compiled multiple lists of suspects before we sent Damian to Paris. He stopped a lot of international press for akuma attacks and has caused multiple akumas.”

Marinette frowns. Mayor Bourgeois being Hawkmoth crossed her mind a few times, but she always decided that he was largely incapable and had little motivation. “What are your criteria for deciding who might be Hawkmoth? I highly doubt Mayor Bourgeois is Hawkmoth, despite him stopping the press.”

“We determine how many akumas a person has caused, how much damage the akuma caused to the person’s primary residence and workplace, and how well they’re connected to the people being akumatized. Andre Bourgeois has been involved in the akumatization of slightly more than half of all the akumas that have occurred, so long as we include his relation to his daughter and wife and there has been extraordinary little damage done to the arrondissements that he frequents.”

“Interesting. Share the list with the contact information I sent you earlier. You share some of the same criteria as we have come up with, but you’re drawing the wrong information from what you have. Akumas caused is also one of our criteria, as well as the damage that has been done to the person’s residence. I don’t think that a person’s personal relations play much into who ends up being akumatized, however, there’s good reason to believe that Hawkmoth is in a position of power, or at least well connected. They seem to know what’s happening in the city before it ever hits the news.” Marinette opens a program on her computer, then turns on the projector to display a map with pins. 

“We’ve been interested in the location of primary suspects at the time of akumatization; Ladybug believes that Hawkmoth’s Miraculous power is restricted to Paris. Which means that Hawkmoth needs to be in or close to Paris at the times of all akumas, which crossed Mayor Bourgeois of my list a while ago. He’s been absent for multiple akumas when he needed to go to conferences outside of Paris. The purple dots are Gabriel, the red ones are Nathalie, and the blue ones are Michael. You can see that they’ve all been in Paris every time an akuma occurred and within a ten mile radius of where the akuma was first spotted. That’s quite unusual, considering they’re all in high positions of companies that should typically have them travelling.”

 There is also the little detail that Marinette found the Miraculous Tome in the hands of Gabriel Agreste, but Marinette doesn’t feel safe indulging them with that information yet. If she tells them, they will want to see pictures of the book. 

“How haven’t you cracked this case wide open yet?” Red Robin looks at the screen appreciatively. It’s clear that Marinette spent a lot of time on this.

Marinette bristles. She may have a good amount of information, but her proficiency with technology leaves much to be desired. It took her an unnecessarily long time in order to get the map up and running. “Well, Red Robin, that might have something to do with the fact that neither Ladybug nor I knew anything about how to use technology in the way that was necessary to track him once the police handed over the case in the second year. Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that falsely accusing someone as Hawkmoth could ruin their entire life.”

Master Fu warned her against direct actions against anyone on her suspect list. In fact, he outright forbade her from doing anything, and although she no longer takes his words at face value after the many bumps in their relationship, she’s not going to try to ruin any of these people without evidence. Especially not Gabriel, not when he’s Adrien’s father. 

Red Robin frowns. 

Marinette takes a deep breath. She’s too tense. She’s been taking every word that these vigilantes say as something they don’t actually mean. Marinette needs to relax. Jumping to conclusions helps no one. 

Damian’s eyes are on her, and she’s sure he’s passing judgment. She needs to get out of this situation, get out of this headspace. It’s not productive or healthy. 

“I think we should end this meeting now,” Damian says, and Marinette begrudgingly agrees with him. She knows this is his olive branch.

“You were the one who was upset at the lack of time,” Oracle points out. “We don’t have much time. We need every minute we can get.” 

“Marinette has given us plenty of information to digest for one night. We’ll regroup tomorrow and start on coding the programs to determine Hawkmoth’s location.” Damian reaches over Marinette to end the call. 

Obstinately, Marinette refuses to look him in the eyes. She’s been flip-flopping this entire day, and it’s not doing any great wonders for her mental health. Everything’s been coming to a head in these past few days, and it isn’t a good feeling. She can feel the pressure on her shoulders, the expectant gazes of all of Paris to do her duty and expose Hawkmoth, but she feels the weight of the inevitable backlash Adrien will face if her theories are true. 

The past few days feel like three years compressed. People she’s never interacted with have inserted themselves into the fray, and the big leagues have pulled out all the stops. She just talked to Batman and his team. He’s been in the hero game for decades, and she’s in the room with his son, Robin. 

Everything is just too much.

Marinette feels like she’s been a bad Ladybug. Like she hasn’t done enough to find concrete evidence of her primary suspects because she is afraid of what will happen after. She’s half surprised she hasn’t gone into hysterics yet, but then again, she’s gotten very good at holding herself together when everything around her falls apart. The added touch of an outsider makes the fragile balance she’s achieved teeter.

Damian takes her distressed appearance personally and heaves a sigh. “Look, I --I didn’t think that you were Hawkmoth all along, only for a day before everything went down. I don’t know what I wanted out of you, but your friendship was nice. I did genuinely want to be friends with you, and I still do.”

This makes Marinette feel even worse. She’s trying so hard to find fault with Damian-- which is surprisingly easy-- in order to distance herself. She can’t afford to get attached to someone who can hurt her and is likely to hurt her, because an akumatized Ladybug is the last thing Paris needs. But hearing him apologize so genuinely means that Marinette can’t summon up a negative response. She may not be able to say that she truly knows Damian, but she knows that he is a very prideful person. It can’t have been easy for him to apologize to her so openly. An acidic response rests on her tongue for a moment before she pushes it back.

“You were just trying to follow up on a lead. I shouldn't blame you.” 

“But you do.”

He hit the nail on the head. Marinette grimaces, letting her eyes flick over Damian’s hunched shoulders and set jaw. She doesn’t blame him for thinking that she’s Hawkmoth, but she does blame him for getting the Justice League more involved, which makes exactly zero sense if she evaluates the situation logically. Her heart feels like Damian is the element of change; if he never arrived in Paris, Marinette would still have everything under a better semblance of control. It doesn’t matter that Batman said the JLA had been looking into Paris for half a year, and that even if Damian weren’t sent, there would have been someone else.

It’s fitting that in order to move forward, they must break down whatever security that Marinette has built into her life, because life is just cruel enough to mess her up like that. Right now, she’s a wreck mentally, emotionally, and even physically. Marinette can feel her throat closing up. 

“It’s not your fault,” she offers. “And maybe if we get out of our current situation, we can try being friends again. But right now? I-- there’s just too much stress on me, right now.”

Damian understands this, but as he descends the steps of her ladder, Damian can’t help but wish that she felt otherwise.

Omake

“How is it that Mayor Bourgeois is not in your top three suspects for Hawkmoth? He’s stopped a lot of international press about the akuma for the first year!”

Marintte deadpans. “Honestly? The man is way too stupid to ever be Hawkmoth.”

“Haven’t we come to the conclusion that Hawkmoth is stupid though? He couldn’t steal jewelry from two untrained teenagers for years!”

Marinette decides not to take offense at that, and concedes. “Fine, maybe he should be on the list. I’d certainly akumatize Chloe and Audrey Bourgeois if I had to interact with them on a daily basis.”

_______________________________________________________

will these be regularly scheduled? absolutely not, even though i have the whole thing finished because i get the feeling that i am going to Change Things sooner or later (somebody please smack some sense into me everything in this story goes awfully very soon and the plot goes wonky and AHHHH)

[gothfoxx]

I read this fic recently where after giving izuku his quirk, all might works him way to hard, forces him to hide his pain from others, and hurts him when he can't hide it. All the while, izuku thinks its normal, and that all might is just trying to help him. could you do a one shot where dadzawa finds out and goes all "you will never touch this child again" mode? please i need comfort after all the angst.

Anon if it’s the fic I’m thinking of...I understand, here’s some comfort and if I can fit it in some Dadzawa fluff🖤

Also I’m using this song as inspiration cause it fits the way Aizawa would be feeling during the whole thing

Also sorry for my sins, I wanted to make it DAD Dadzawa 🙏

All of the students were back with their families for golden week so Aizawa was taking his time to get back home from the meeting with Ally Cat and the other vigilantes. He was going across an alcove that held a hidden beach when he heard the sound of retching. Normally that wouldn’t be enough to draw him in, drunks weren’t worth the trouble if they weren’t causing problems, what did have him looking down into the alcove was the sob that followed. It was the sob of a child, a child he had thought was safely at home with their mother.

Midoriya Izuku was huddling into the back of the alcove, right up against the rock of the short cliff, shivering and dry heaving. He was covered in dark marks and smudges, his shirt was way too thin for the weather and his wasn’t wearing any shoes. In the dark his hair and the smudges looked black while his pale skin looked sickly in the moonlight. Aizawa’s instincts had him jumping down the cliff in an instant, that probably wasn’t the best idea because the small boy flinched and curled into himself like he expected a blow. From here Aizawa could smell iron along with the bile. Midoriya was bleeding.

“Midoriya?” No response, “Midoriya?” Still nothing. Aizawa sat down in front of the boy, minding the sick, and tried again, “Izuku?” The kid’s head snapped up at the use of his first name. “S-Sensei? Why are y-you he-here?” Midoriya asked with chattering teeth. Thanking kami that he was in civilian clothes Aizawa took off his coat and draped it over his student’s trembling shoulders. “Well kid I could ask you that same question, I’m a off duty underground hero. What’s your reason?” He gently reached out and tilted Midoriya’s head so the light hit him better, the kid had a black eye that was swollen shut and a busted lip. “Who did this to you?” His voice remained calm but the instincts that made him jump down here were yelling at him to take this kid and book it. There was a crunch in the sand behind him just as Midoriya’s eyes grew wide and he gasped out “All Might”.

The crunch turned out to be a stray dog that came up to sniff them, whimpering into Midoriya’s side while the boy took to slowly petting its head. It didn’t take an idiot to put together the clues, the kid had a quirk he couldn’t control, he seemed unused to praise, he and Yagi knew each other before class, the low self worth, the clear aftermath of a harsh beating, and the fear at being found by Yagi. Obviously Midoriya was being abused by his father, a man who claimed that the boy was not in fact his. Aizawa had looked into the kid, he knew the boy got his quirk late and he wasn’t a stranger to a father leaving because of a quirk. It was plausible that a dead-beat might come back once he thought his kid was worth something now. “Midoriya does your mother know where you are?” He hopes that she doesn’t, that she wasn’t letting this happen. The boy stiffens and the dog whimpers again trying to snuggle the kid. “N-no, she d-doesn’t n-n-know. She i-is out of town.” Midoriya’s answer rings with a hollow note. “Mid- Izuku, where are you stay while she’s out of town?” The gut feeling is eating at him now chanting a montra of ‘grab him and run, hide’ and he was so close to giving in.

Midoriya didn’t get a chance to answer because another crunch in the sand, this one much heavier announced the arrival of someone else. The dog stood in the kid’s lap and growled. The figure standing behind Aizawa was the skeletal form of Toshinori Yagi. It wasn’t the Yagi or All Might Aizawa was used to and annoyed by, this Yagi had looked less like death was at his door and more like he was the reaper coming to collect his bounty. “Midoriya you shouldn’t run off like that, look you’ve worried this poor man and his dog. Come along we need to go back to the agency.” And if Aizawa hadn’t grown up hearing the same tone of fake concern from his mother or afterwards when dealing with domestic abuse cases he might have fallen for it. Standing up to his full height and letting all the protective rage and childhood fear fuel the fire behind his glare Aizawa growled out, “he isn’t going back with you. He’s never going with you anywhere again! I don’t care if he is your kid or not Yagi, you are never laying a hand on him or going near him again! I’ll make sure of it!” All Might blinks in shock then recognition, “Hello Aizawa, didn’t take you as a dog person. Now why can’t I take my charge back with me? He’s my responsibility.” The titan asked, the threat in Aizawa’s words either not taken seriously or not understood. “Because Yagi, he was scared to death that it was you when I found him. He’s terrified and covered in injuries and blood. You are not getting him back ever.” The anger and panic in his gut turned from a hot feverish wild fire to a freezing acidic poison that laced his every word. He would fight the world’s number one, the devil himself, to protect Izuku.

After a great time of staring each other down All Might yields and takes a step back. “Fine, keep him, but I’ll always be there. He can’t escape his destiny and we’ll always be connected.” He states the last bit towards the boy still cowering behind the dog. The dog growls again and lowers into a fighting stance. “His destiny is his to decide. Being his father doesn’t automatically his dad, it doesn’t make you connected. Don’t ever think it does.” Aizawa declares with the wisdom of someone who had to find that knowledge firsthand. All Might scofts and walks away a dismissive wave of his hand.

Aizawa stands there for a long while making sure the skeletal was really gone before he turns back to the two behind him. Izuku is staring with his one good eye like the world had just flipped upside down. As gently as he can muster Aizawa starts talking to Izuku “Hey kid, it’s going to be okay. I know it might not make sense now but you’re safe now, what was happening with you and him was not how anyone should treat you. I won’t let him make you think it’s okay just because you share dna. I won’t let him hurt you again, you’re safe.” The kid still looks so lost but he nods, it looks like it causes him pain though.

“Okay first thing first, medical care.” The boy opens his mouth to argue, “Kid you look worse than I did at USJ please don’t try to fight me on this.” Aizawa pleads as he pulls out his phone and calls Ally Cat, they should still be awake and they have a car. The conversation is short and to the point, Cat will be picking them up with a change of clothes and some flip-flops for the kid and a leash for the stray. “Thanks for doing this Cat, I know it’s short notice.” “All emergencies are short notice Eraser, I got your back.” “See you soon” “you know it” And with that everything is set into motion, slowly but in motion non the less. He looks back at Izuku after he hangs up, the kid is dozing off with his hands in the dog’s fur. If it wasn’t for the injuries and time of night Aizawa could pretend that they were just at the beach for the peaceful silence. He figured he could take them to a different beach, make better memories, once the kid wasn’t beat to hell and back. “Huh, guess I have a kid and dog now. Mic and everyone aren’t going to let me live this down.” He muses just as a black mini-van pulls to the side of the road above them. “Cat must have been worried” he huffs as he carefully scoops up Izuku and heads around the side of the aclove and up to the road, dog loyaly following.

Izuku had three cracked ribs, neck and shoulder injuries like that of a retired boxer, and a fractured cheek bone. The doctor was suspicious of the duo when they came into the hospital but after Aizawa showed him his hero ID and explained it as an abuse case the worried anger faded. Aizawa didn’t blame the man for thinking the worst. As they waited for more tests to come back and the boy to wake up from the use of a healing quirk Aizawa called Nezu to inform him about what had happened and they made plans to have Yagi removed from the school quickly & quietly. After that the kid was still sleeping and the doctors saw he wouldn’t be waking for a least another hour or two so Aizawa texted Cat about the dog.

E: is it chipped

A: nope

E: can your friends have it checked over and chipped today?

A: sure but it’s not an it she’s a lovely shiba mix

E: ok thanks

A: anytime, you adopting just the dog or?

E: he has a mom

A: :/ you know what I mean

E: yeah I do and yeah

A: cool! I get to be the cool auncle! Dibs!

E: why are all my friends like this?

A: cause you like the affection:p

E: no you

He ignores the next text because Izuku wakes up. The kid looks lost again, just rotating his arm with the iv in it and mumbling to himself. “Hey champ, you fell asleep before we got you here.” Aizawa explains slowly because the pain meds might be messing with the kid’s head. The kid just looks up at him with pinched eyebrows and confusion,”we?” His voice is so small and dry, Aizawa grabs a cup and fills it up from the sink in the room they are in. “Yeah my friend drove us here. They took the dog to a vet to get checked over too.” He elaborates as Izuku drinks the water. “If you want to we can keep her, the dog I mean, she isn’t chipped and my friend thought you might want to keep her.” He asks a bit unsure of how to address what happened without causing the kid more stress. “But the dorms don’t allow pets if it’s not for a quirk or medical reasons.” The kid says sadly. And that wasn’t going to stand on Aizawa’s watch, he claimed this kid and he was going to be the best guardian he could be. “She doesn’t have to stay at the dorms, she can live at home.” He assures the kid.

But now the kid is tearing up and the man did not know what he did wrong or how to set things right. “I don’t have anywhere else to take her, mom got caught in a villain attack at work. The whole building came down. Yagi-Sensei had been letting me stay at this agency.” And just fuck, Aizawa hadn’t been told Ms Midoriya had passed and he had a feeling non of the other staff did either. “Izuku, you don’t have to ever go back with him but you can’t not have a home. After tonight I think Yagi will sign his parental rights over to me but only if you are okay with it. If not then we can figure out something else or make you a ward like Er-“ He stops mid sentence as Izuku hugs him, burying his bandaged cheeks into Aizawa’s neck. All The man can do as the kid clings to him is cling back, he had no idea when the last time an adult showed this kid love so he held the boy close. “He- he’s not my d-dad Aizawa-Sensei, my dad g-g-gave me up years ago. Yagi-Sensei du-doesn’t have p-parental rights.” The kid admits as he sobs, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to be alone.” Izuku confesses, breaking the heart of the man holding him.

When doctors give them the okay and Izuku has gotten himself back together enough to put on the clothes Cat had brought Aizawa has Cat take them to His apartment near U.A. the shiba is waiting in the back of the van with a shiny red leather collar. Izuku and the dog fall asleep quickly. “So Sho, this mean you’re gonna petition for custody?” Cat asks as they drive, careful to not to wake the kid with the sudden sound. “Don’t have to, circumstances have changed. I’ll just have to file for adoption.” He sighs, he knows they won’t pry into it while everything is still happening so he feels safe enough to let them know. “Cool, just remember I called dibs on being the cool auncle. I’m spoiling him and that sweet pup.” They remind the tired man as he spots the apartment building up ahead. “You’ll have to fight Mic but I think being spoiled by both of you idiots will be good for him.” He laughs softly as he pictures the gift war that’s bound to happen now. “Don’t worry Mr Dad, I think you’ll spoil him enough before we can. You gave him a dog and he’s not even your kitten yet.” They tease.

It’s been three weeks and Izuku settles into his new bedroom with his new dog, Kēki, the room is kind of baren but he didn’t have a lot to decorate with yet. He’d thrown out or given away most of his hero merchandise, only keeping a few things his mom gave him. He was looking forward to the next week, Shota had told him that the papers were in and that by that time they would approve the adoption. Soon Izuku would be Midoriya-Aizawa Izuku, he wouldn’t have thought he’d like living with his teacher but the man gave off the same soft caring aura Izuku’s mom had...just in a quiet way. While the man wasn’t very physically affectionate he did listen when Izuku needed him, he asked questions about Izuku’s interests and goals and just overall made the kid feel like he mattered.

Izuku loves his dad, he hadn’t really known his birth dad so it was easy to give that title to the man that had taken him in so readily. Life was looking up, All might had been let go from U.A. and wasn’t allowed to teach ever again. Grand Torino had reached out in condolences when he heard that his non-grandson had lost his mother, the old man offered to watch him if the situation ever occurred. So now Izuku had a dad, most of the staff of his school as aunts and uncles, some odd vigilante that called themself his ‘auncle’, Kēki, and a grandpa! He still missed his mom but his dad had sent him to therapy to work through what All Might had put him through and Izuku had discovered he had some deeper issues of self worth and expecting abuse from those around him. So things were steadily getting better, not noticeably but he was just starting.

“Izuku! Kēki! I brought home dinner!” Shota called as he locked the door back. An exicited kid and dog bound into the front room looking so happy that Shota had to blink away from their brightness. “Come one lets eat while it’s still hot.” He laughs as he carries the bags of take out to the coffee table by the couch. As they dig in a feeling of rightness surrounds them. “Thanks dad.” “No problem Champ”

Kēki is a shiba mix with an all brown coat with a white tail that makes her look like chocolate cake with a dollop of white frosting this the name cake. Ally Cat wasn’t meant for more than just a throw away line but then they needed a car so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hope you liked it anon

[skidblast]

The Villains of Transformers.

This seems like a basic non-question. We got Unicron as the world-ending threat, and various incarnations of Megatron doing the rest of the job to keep the threat going. However, there is another angle to it.

Often we hear the phrase “write what you know”. Which seems simple enough, that you got experience with something that you can write it pretty true. But what does one know about mechanical aliens that have been fighting a war for 4 million years?

But the various writers of the Transformers franchise throughout the years have written what they know. There is an overarching threat in each one of the transformers incarnations that is different from the Megatron the Tyrant or the Planet-eating Unicron. It’s more like background noise, providing the constant that is happening, a crutch when writing.

Unfortunately I won’t be touching on Japanese produced media, I haven’t studied the history of Japan to know the nuanced details of culture background noise or incidental historic events to comment on Headmaster, Victory, RID2001, Unicron Trilogy and any other that I have missed.

I will also skip the Marvel, Dreamwave and FunPub comics/media as I’ve not read them. Cyberverse and the second IDW release are skipped as they are pretty recent additions. Rescue Bots and Rescue Bots Academy is skipped as well due to simplicity.

The main theme of the G1 cartoon is energy shortage. Cybertron is out of Energon, they flee Cybertron to find more energy. The Decepticons set up base on Earth because the humans have begun to harness the energy of their planet, allowing easy access to said energy and to ship it home.

This doesn’t come out of nowhere. In fact, most people have heard of the precursor in passing. The time when cars were lined up at the gas stations.

1979 was a bad shock for the oil market. Iran revolted, causing oil production to shrink a bit and caused panic, which in turned caused the prices of oil to rise dramatically. This was also the year where the Three Mile Island Accident happened, so people got vary of nuclear power. Gas rationing was discussed, and in some states actually implemented. Then recession hit in the wake of this.

The effects of the oil crisis and the following recession were still felt, so a cartoon about an energy crisis was very easy to write.

Beast Wars is an odd one to analyse. It came as the Transformers franchise was dying, and Hasbro was desperate to reinvent Transformers for the new kids. The appeal of cars turning into robots was no longer around, but making them animals was the push Hasbro needed to refresh the Transformers.

So we end up with the beginning basically rehashing the Transformers cartoon, but when the overarching plot hits, when the threads get revealed after a whole season of basically filler, we find the inspiration that the writers had. This time, it is not energy crisis, in 1996 we had put that behind us.

We have Megatron leading a team trying to restore the Decepticons as rightful rulers via time travel. We then discover he had actually gone against the so-called Tripredacus Council, the fractured Predacon Alliance who were biding their time and see the usefulness of what Megatron is trying to accomplish. In order to gain more power without breaking the peace made with the Pax Cybertronia, they use secret agents and secret police.

This is very familiar to a lot of people who haven’t seen Beast Wars or heard of it. This is Russia.

In 1991, the Soviet Union collapsed, and with that the Cold War ended. Peace was had. But as Russia threw off the communism ties from them, the ruling body still needed to exert control over the nation, and to broaden their influence beyond their borders. Russia went from Communism to Mafia-like control, using secret police, subtle threats and various other shady things. People saw what was going on, and with the new fear they were facing, they made it known in the media.

Beast Machines is a bit easier to figure out compared to its predecessor. It’s mostly because the message of Beast Machines resonates strongly today. 

Beast Machines came shortly after Beast Wars, as the toyline was trying to go away from the purely animal transformers and going for more mechanical look. But how do you really bridge those together?

At the tail end of the 80ies, environmentalism was on the rise. There was an undercurrent of that happening in Beast Wars, but in Beast Machines it had much more weight to it. With Megatron wanting to stamp out any biological influences from Cybertron, ready to eradicate any traces of it and mass-producing purely mechanical beings to repopulate Cybertron. While Optimus Primal was embracing the biological side of it, becoming sort of a guru through the Oracle.

The rise of industrialism is frightening prospect, seeing the nature retreat into near nothingness, and seeing the callousness of the industry just ignore it completely in favour for profits. But there was no denying that industrialism was there to stay, so while it is the main fear of the series, the message of the series was not to abolish it but to tame it, not let it out of control and make sure that the environment was put on equal grounds to it.

Animated is a strong reboot like Beast Wars was, coming at the same time as the Michael Bay films. Japanese production had taken over after Beast Machines finished, but Hasbro sought to retake the American market with media that they controlled. Importing Anime and dubbing it was all and good, but if they had complete control, they would have better chance to make it appeal to the market they wanted, the Western one.

It’s 2007. Following 9/11 the USA goes to war. And it is still going, with a certain hopelessness attached to it as people are getting more and more jaded by it. But most people never really felt the impact, only heard about it. There was no draft, there was no conscription. People joined the military, and those who came back came back either just a little bit off, or really suffering, and couldn’t get proper help.

Transformers Animated touches on civilians being basically forced into the war, against foes that were thought to be defeated long ago. It touches on the hardship of those civilians as they are part of it, feeling both the elation of being thought as heroes, and feeling the terror of the situation that they are in. A highlight of this is the episode Thrill of the Hunt, which came rather early, and touched on themes that are not common to see in media aimed at children, looking at Ratchet going too far, and suffering from some form of PTSD as well.

While the actual war had never visited the US or the spacebridge repair crew, the impact of it was felt on them, with all the horrors that entails.

Transformers Animated and first Michael Bay Transformers film came out on the same year. Yet the themes of the film series is far from what Animated did. One part of it is that Hollywood movies are more constricted as they have to appeal to a whole lot of audience in order to gain any return from the production cost. So everything is analysed in detail, making sure that nothing would alienate the vast majority of the Western World. We are in fact seeing it more obviously as China is growing stronger as a consumer market for Hollywood movies, and we see how the movies are made to appeal to that market as well.

So doing a commentary on the Afghanistan war like Transformers Animated did was out of the question. But it doesn’t mean that there isn’t a fear in the movie like in anything else.

Technology is on rapid rise. The rule of CPU power doubling every 18 months was still holding. New technology comes before anyone can really adapt to what had been introduced not so long ago.

The fear in the Michael Bay films is the rampancy of technology. We have severely advanced alien race make contact, and in fact made most of the technology based on one of them, found at the turn of the previous century. Technology that wasn’t even fully understood, that people thought they could easily control. But it goes out of control.

This concept is called Technological Singularity, where technology eventually becomes uncontrollable and we get swept up in the wake of it, having to deal with the new reality that we are no longer the masters of the world we are in. Grey Goo is one of the better known representation of this idea. Another is the idea of an overlord AI that either seeks to exterminate humanity, rule it with iron fist, or simply think of humans as we think of ants, insignificant.

IDW Publishing was on the scene two years earlier, in 2005. However given how long the first G1 iteration of it ran it gets mentioned after TFA and the movies due to that, allowing for Aligned continuity to come after it.

While TFA showed how the Afghanistan War impacted US citizens, who had not really experienced being at war while being so interconnected with the world and able to receive so much information, the IDW comics went for the other angle, the other fear that ruled in the USA at that time.

9/11. The fear of terrorism happening, the fear of foreign infiltration. The Decepticons had a plan on how the infiltration happened, every step of it planned, making sure that they could make the residents of the planet do most of the work of disrupting the peace, making it easy for them to swoop in and destroy the rest.

While things didn’t go as planned as the Autobots intervened pretty early, the Decepticons went public on full force, taking over New York City and almost dropped an atomic bomb on it. The connection to 9/11 is pretty hard to miss.

And then Phase 2 hits. James Roberts becomes one of the more interesting writers in the series. And this is where things go slightly off. James Roberts is more of a writer that knows what he’s writing about, instead of being influenced by current events.

And James Roberts has made known he has major interest in politics as he worked with politicians before picking up the pen for IDW Publishing. Write what you know, and James Roberts know politics, and political history.

In Phase 2 there is increased focus on the actual motivations behind the war. While Megatron Origins did go into how Megatron became the leader of the Deceptioncs, it was James Roberts that made it into the communism reflection that it became in the comics. It isn’t really some overarching fear in the background of the comics, it’s known quantity woven into the narrative of the comic.

Transformers Prime came in 2010, after Transformers Animated, seeking to remove the stylised aesthetics of the former toyline and try to be more like the movies.

And it wasn’t the only thing it changed. What was changed as well was the work that was actually put behind the actual lore of the series, making a true production bible that was used not for just the TV series but the accompanying video games as well, War For Cybertron and Fall Of Cybertron. And there was also a clear message along with that, this was a new continuity, new setting. Aligned, seeking to mesh together all the good from the various franchises into one good package.

But with all that background done on it, it’s easy to point out how Megatron went from a revolutionary to a tyrant and that would be about that. But it is not that simple.

What colors Transformers Prime is subtle and easily overlooked. In 2007 we experienced a dire financial crisis. Unemployment shot up, investments plummeted, there was no good safety net for people and a lot of them fell through the cracks. But these things are hard to really put into a show like this without it being explicitly about it. But there is another side effect of the recession that wasn’t that apparent in 2010, is more obvious now, but with the Transformers lore from the 1984 cartoon being similar, it blends into the usual Transformers noise.

Refugees.

Optimus Prime and his small team are simply refugees. Cybertron did run out of fuel, but the plots of harvesting energon and fighting over resources is more rehashing of the old cartoon plots. The focus is more on the Autobot team as they deal with being literal aliens in the US, escaping the tyranny that they fled. How they are treated by the locals, how they deal with the isolation of being in a culture different from theirs. They simply try to survive. Like how most people hit by the recession felt.

Robots in Disguise was released after Transformers Prime, going away from the expensive production and to more cheaper look. But with the so-called Aligned continuty having been a strong reboot of the “TV cartoons” series, Hasbro was in no hurry to abandon it, making Robots in Disguise a sequel to Transformers Prime.

Though with the war over, a new kind of threat had to be made. And Steeljaw steps into the role, not only as the main antagonist of the series, but as the representation of the fear theme of the series.

What isn’t really that obvious in Robots in Disguise is just how powerful Steeljaw is. Steeljaw isn’t just some generic Decepticon villain who escapes just so they can reuse his model instead of having to create even more Decepticons. He has fighting prowess, he is able to outwit the Bumblebee team. And the most dangerous weapons he has are his personality and voice.

Steeljaw is able to talk himself out of trouble. He has major ambitions, he knows what to do in order to recruit others. He wants power and respect, and if left unchecked, he will have it. And he knows that if there is some that he can’t convince, he can fight, and he will fight dirty.

Steeljaw represents a fear that people have experienced for a long time, but it wasn’t until recently that it really put into the spotlight. He is the abuser, the person in power that will make your life miserable. He antagonises Bumblebee and his team by causing them trouble, drive them off their safe haven of Earth and later drives them from their safe space, forcing them to go on the run. He finds power by leading a pack of Decepticons, then later by allying himself to the new council until he realises that he will not achieve his goals with him.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this massive post of mine.