#dinah is a long dog with cross eyes

[wisteriaxxviolet]

WIP #1

Shadow’s Fire (Book One)

“ The same thing that’s in me is also within you.”

It’s was one of the last things Kaleah Brooks’ father told her before he died. Though she survived, the trauma has left her haunted by nightmares and strange gifts that emerged from that night. With no one to turn to, she keeps busy caring for the animals at her local clinic.

When she stumbles upon an injured dog, Kaleah instinctively rushes to his aid. As she nurses the dog back to, she begins to notice strange things about him and her suspicions are confirmed when he reveals his true nature-he’s a hellhound that escaped the capture of a dark sorcerer named Mordrid Black.

Now, Kaleah must rely on her growing connection with Atrius and her friends as they embark on a perilous journey to stop him. Along the way, Kaleah’s hidden abilities begin to emerge, challenging her to confront her past and find the strength she never knew she had.

Character Boards (Main Characters)

Age: 24

Hair: Black and curly, keeps it straightened

Eyes: Dark Brown

Skin: Dark Brown

Ethnicity: African-American

Height: 5’4

Occupation: Veterinary Assistant

A young woman who is kind and compassionate. She though she has alejas been a quiet person, she used to be more open and friendly but became closed off and distant after her father’s death. She spends most of her time working to cope. When she discovers that she is a Sybil, she trains to hone her abilities against the coming threat.

She is an empath; an ability that means she can feel others’ feeling. This is especially useful when she’s working with animals and can calm them. She later develops more abilities like light generation, and healing.

She has a silver cross-shaped necklace that given to her by her father on her 13th birthday.

She likes to watch movies and tv shows and she loves taking walks in the park.

She likes RnB and pop music.

She loves to cook and prefers preparing healthy food but has a sweet tooth. She loves anything with chocolate.

She has two cats, Samson and Dinah.

She lives in a shared space with her roommate, Raven McKnight.

She had two best friends, Olivia Gray and Elishay Watkins.

She also volunteers her time at a local clinic.

Her father, Deacon Brooks, was a veterinarian that ran his own practice before he passed away. Her love of animals was nurtured by him.

Her mother, Verbena Brooks, works at a hair salon.

She has a younger sister, Malani Brooks, who is a high school student. She aspires to do hair like their mother. She also likes graphic design.

Age: 300 (give or take)

Eyes: Red

Hair: Black

Skin: Alabaster (human)

Ethnicity: Unknown

Height: 5’11 (human form)

Occupation: Hellhound Enforcer

A hellhound who is found by Kaleah at a local park. He, and his other two brethren Orpheus and Demetria, were captured by Mordrid Black.

He can manipulate fire and shadows in both his human and hound forms. He can cloak himself in darkness and can use it to give him a hearty constitution.

Though he is ruthless and deadly, Atrius is loyal to a fault. He is very protective of those close to him, often putting his life on the line.

He can be overprotective and can be short tempered.

He is assigned to Eryx Nobokov, a reaper from the underworld.

He considers Orpheus and Demetria as his siblings; they were “born” around the same time and were raised together.

Though he’s lived as a hellhound for a while, he is naive to much of the modern world.

He is very eager to please, especially to those he feels he owes a debt to.

Age: 24

Eyes: Dark brown/purple when channeling

Hair: brown/black with long locs

Skin: Brown

Ethnicity: African-American

Height: 5’7

Occupation: Gahiji

Kaleah’s mysterious roommate. She comes across quiet and aloof, often disappearing for long periods of time and appears at odd hours of the day.

She loves cats and is often seen hanging around them often.

She really likes to drink hot tea and milk.

She is a night owl.

She loves to read and train in her free time.

She dislikes being around crowds and loud people.

Her best friend and partner in crime is Virgil Scott. They’ve known each other for a few years now.

She is protective of Kaleah and tries to keep her at a distance in order to protect her but must come clean about her intentions.

It is later revealed that Raven is a Gahiji-a line of hunters who can channel the powers of the gods of Ra. She can channel the powers of Bastet.

She can create force fields and summon weapons through her enchanted items like her necklace.

She has a tattoo of a cat’s paw above her belly button and an small ankh on her right wrist. She has a sun-disk on her left.

While Channeling, she has enhanced speed and reflexes.

She can create protection runes and repel evil spirits using a magical staff that functions as a sistrum.

She is proficient in hand to hand combat. She likes using knives and swords in fights.

She can also communicate with cats as they are her patron animal.

Age: 26

Eyes: Hazel

Hair: Dark Brown

Skin: tan/light brown

Ethnicity: English/African descent

Height: 5’7

Raven’s best friend and owner of Quaint Keepsakes.

He is sarcastic and quick-witted. Loves to show off his skills.

He is charismatic and very intelligent.

He is very well dressed and loves to collect watches.

Likes fine food and a good drink.

He is a Lumen-A light mage that can generate and manipulate light magic.

His family are descended from a long line of mages and obsessed with “pure” blood.

The Scotts use sigils to channel their innate magic but Virgil is the exception. Only needing when performing complicated rituals or enchantments.

Virgil’s mother is a Sybil; a mixed blood and was ostracized in the community.

Virgil and his family lived normal lives until his abilities as emerged as a child.

Virgil learned all he could and attended a school for young mages when he was in middle school to high school, though he faced many challenges he succeed.

Relocated to the States and runs a shop along with a the owner to house magical objects and a concealed veil.

He becomes a mentor to Kaleah help her hone her growing abilities.

Age: Unknown

Hair: White ( Locs)

Eyes: Blue green

Skin: Tan

Occupation: Grim Reaper

A reaper of the damned. His main job is to gather souls of the damned and bring them to the underworld. He often sends hellhounds to chase the stubborn ones or ones that have escaped.

Eryx can take any form in the human world.

Though he doesn’t care much for humans, though he is intrigued by Kaleah and her role in his mission.

He is straightforward and honest; often comes across as blunt and unfeeling.

He also likes music, especially classical and operatic music.

He has a soft spot for children.

He has enhanced senses and physical strength and speed.

He can contain souls using telekinesis and other containment magic though most is channeled through his scythe.

He wields a scythe that can change forms and it can be used to control hellhounds and open portals.

Age: Unknown

Hair: Black and short

Eyes: Blue

Skin: Pale

Ethnicity: Unknown

Occupation: Dark Sorcerer

A shadow summoner who acquires a great power the allows him summon daeva and other creatures.

Not much is known about his past; he’s a prodigy that became obsessed with acquiring more power and elongating his life.

He is unforgiving and has little mercy for those who gets in his way.

Is the main antagonist and threat to Kaleah and her friends.

[gloriabomfim]

Courage and Dinah's staring contest

I remember that day when Courage and Dinah had their epic staring contest. It was a sunny afternoon, and the tension in the air was palpable. Dinah, the sweet light purple spaniel, had challenged Courage to a staring contest, and he couldn't resist.

As we locked eyes, I could feel the intensity building. Dinah's tiny limbs were in perfect proportion to her body, and she had a black diamond-like nose that added to her charm. She was a shy but pretty dog, and it was clear she had a crush on Courage.

We all gathered around, eager to see who would emerge victorious. The contest began, and both Courage and Dinah stared intensely at each other. Courage, the pink beagle with his thin, long black ears, was determined not to be outdone.

But Dinah was clever. As Courage's eyes started to water, she began to egg him on, saying, "Blink," repeatedly in her sweet voice. Courage fought hard to hold his gaze, but Dinah startled him with a sudden move. It was just enough to make Courage blink, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

Dinah had won the game, and a shy smile crossed her face as she celebrated her victory. It was a heartwarming moment, and it was clear that even in their playful contests, Courage and Dinah had a special connection.

As Courage let out his signature scream, I couldn't help but smile. It was just one of those moments that made you appreciate the unique and endearing characters of the "Courage the Cowardly Dog" universe.

[kidgrimm]

dinah says,lucios a lil bitch

REBLOG TO HELP SAVE THE TURTLES

[batman-katflap]

Congrats on your milestone! If you want, BruClark where Batman has been magicked into a wolf or creature of your choice on a mission and only Superman can approach him and give him scritches. Everyone is jealous lol

Thank you for your prompt! I hope you like what I did with it XD

“Okay, can I be the first to ask," Hal said. "What the fuck is going on?” 

When Hal had been called to the Watchtower, he had expected something routine to be the reason. Perhaps a meeting, or maybe there was some maintenance work that needed to be dealt with, Hell, he wouldn't have been surprised to find out that he was only called to try and free Barry after he'd gotten stuck in the air vents-- again. He did not however, expect whatever it was he had just walked in on. His team on the other hand, already present, appeared far more at ease with the current situation, which if anything, only made Hal all the more confused. 

“Uh, so.” Zatanna began, her hands clasped together as though in prayer. “Turns out the spell I was working on had a few issues.”

“And what were those issues exactly?” Hal asked, stopping beside her and looking at the source of his confusion. There was a small dog sitting on Clark’s lap, and whilst a dog's presence in the Watchtower wasn’t exactly novel given Krypto’s occasional appearance, it was what the dog was wearing that really had Hal questioning life. “Seriously, Z, how bad do you gotta mess up a spell for it to give a dog spats?”

“That’s, uh,” Zatanna said, looking all the more put upon. “That’s not a dog. That’s Bruce.” 

“What do you mean it’s--” But Hal didn’t finish his question as all at once his disbelief evaporated, only to be replaced with a grin so large it hurt. “No way."

“Yup.” She said, letting out a shallow breath. "And I sort of need all hands on deck to try and fix this."

"Why would we wanna fix it, though?" Hal asked, crouching down to Bruce's eye line. He was a small thing, covered in long black fur, a Pomeranian if Hal had to guess. Despite being a dog, he still managed to maintain the same air of general annoyance that Bruce was known for. Hal brought his hand out and went to reach for his ears. "I think he's so much better like--"

But Hal didn’t manage to pet him as Bruce snarled and nipped at his hand about as well as a dog of his size could be expected to do. It still hurt, though and Hal pulled his hand back with a yelp. He looked down at it and saw the red marks start to blossom with blood. "Jesus! That fucking hurt!"

No one however offered Hal any sympathy. "Bruce doesn't like to be touched in his human form, what made you think this would be any different?" Diana asked, raising a brow.

"I dunno! The fact that he's small and fluffy maybe?” Hal rubbed his hand, huffing. “Should be expected to be petted..."

"Yeah, no. He snaps at anyone who tries." Ollie said, holding up his own red hand.

"Clark’s holding him, though." Hal said gesturing at the man in question now scratching behind Bruce's ears like Hal had tried to do. Although his response this time was less ‘sharp teeth’ and more ‘swishing tail’. "Seriously. The fuck?"

"Maybe it's ‘cause I know Bruce better then all of you." Clark said, his smile warm as he continued to pet the dog on his lap. "For one, I knew he wanted to be dressed the minute I came up here. Y’all were just letting him run ‘round naked..."

"Not naked." Dinah said with a roll of the eyes. "He’s a dog, Clark. He’s covered in fur. Our focus was on trying to get him back to normal, rather than covering his…" she grimaced. "How did you put it?"

Clark looked at her indignantly. "His little starfish."

"...Right." Dinah continued, letting out a small sigh. "But now that he is suitably covered, we can focus on getting him back to being human. So Zatanna, what are your thoughts?"

But before she could respond, Hal held up his non bitten hand and stopped her. "Wait." Hal said. "You’re telling me he didn't turn into a dog wearing this?” He gestured to the outfit Bruce was currently sporting. “You put him in it yourself?"

"Yes." Clark said with a nod.

"Because…" Hal went on, making a face. "His asshole was out?"

"I told you. I know Bruce. And I know if he were to be turned into a dog his major worry would be 'certain parts' of his body being on show. So when I got up here and found him backed into a corner, snarling at all of y’all, I knew why. So I ran and got some baby clothes from the store and came back up here, dressed him. and now lookit him.” Clark said the last part whilst lifting Bruce up onto his hind legs and showing his outfit off fully. "He's adorable!"

Bruce looked less than impressed by being shown off in such a way, but he was the only one who did as the rest of the team shared Clark’s own verdict that he did indeed look adorable (though none of them said anything, fearing what Bruce would do to them when he turned back human if they did) Hal however, still had questions. "That explains the pants, sure…" He said, raising a brow. "Not the shirt or the spats. Why is he wearing those?"

"Oh, well, I also knew Bruce would feel like an idiot just wearing the pants, so I got him a shirt and shoes too so he'll have a little outfit." Clark shrugged a shoulder.  

"God, Supes you sound like you’re married to him or something.”

Clark looked away at that, his cheeks red and it was then that Dinah looked to Hal, her brows raised in contempt. “Okay, Hal. Now that you know why Bruce looks like a mini maitre d', can we let Zatanna speak?”

“Oh, yeah sure.” He said, crossing his arms and standing to give said magician his full attention. “What do you need from all of us?”

“Well, that’s just it.” Zatanna said. With a wave of the hand and a few backwards words, a book appeared in her hands and she started to pour through it. “I need all of you to kiss Bruce.”

“What?” Clark, as well as a few others, sputtered. Sure enough, the dog in his lap started barking too.

“Look, I know.” Zatanna said, throwing the book into the air where it disappeared with a puff of smoke. “But that’s the thing, from what I can understand about the spell, a kiss from the person closest to the affected party is the only cure.”

“And you think that person is one of us?” Barry asked, his face contorted into a frown.

“Why wouldn’t it be? We’re all close to Bruce in some respect--” She eyed Hal and Ollie before making a face. “Some, more than others. And I just figured we’d try everyone. First League members, then we can move onto others potential options.” At everyones less than enthused expressions, Zatanna let out a strained breath. “Look I know its not ideal, but come on guys, it’s not like Bruce can tell us who--”

But Zatanna didn’t get to finish as Bruce sat up on Clark’s lap and turned around, stepping onto Clark's chest and nuzzling his head against Clark’s chin. With wide eyes, Clark took the hint and tilted his head forward and pressed his lips to the top of his head.

There was a bright flash of light, one that had Hal screwing his eyes shut to try and avoid the worst of. Then, when he cracked them back open, there Bruce was, all sullen faced and blushing as Clark wrapped his cape around him, as-- surprise surprise-- the baby clothes didn’t happen to expand with him.

“Well, now.” Hal said, fighting back a smile. “Got something to tell us, Spooky?”

“Don’t make me bite you again, Jordan.”

In the end, Bruce didn’t bite Hal again, but he did kiss Clark a few more times once they were alone, and then a bunch more times after that.

[miracle-sham]

Stitch Your Ragged Wings and Hope to Soar.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 1, Day 5: Fairytales} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] |

| The folk tales always speak of those destined for greatness. Heroes alongside their faithful dragons, fighting the ever turning tides against evil. But they're just that, folk tales. After all, what are the chances a border-town apprentice seamstress like Marinette, would ever be offered a different vocation by the recruitment guild. |

| Word Count: 3,428. |

| Warnings/Tags: Kingdom/Fantasy/No Miraculous/Dragon Riders Au, Minor Lila & Adrien salt, Canon Typical lies and manipulation from Lila, Explicit Language/Swearing, and Some Fluff. |

———

| A/N: First things first, the word 'Dragoon' will be used multiple times in this piece and it is spelled that way on purpose (see end notes for further explanation). Secondly, yep! It's a dragon riding/academy au. This is the first piece of the series, which I'm really excited for because I've spent ages worldbuilding for! And for anyone worried about salt mention, it is addressed in this piece but the tag is there because of canon-typical Lila manipulation and lies, plus no Miraculous means no reason for Adrien with his sheltered upbringing to realise she's lying. |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

It's been a few days of tense stagecoach travel. And to be fair to Marinette, even she hadn't expected to be declared in the middle of the town square as showing aptitude for a position within the Justice League's armée volante—specifically the dragoon squadrons—thanks to the recruitment guild no less.

Unfortunately, Adrien and Lila had also shown an aptitude. Which, seeing as they all come from the same border-town of Paris, meant they were all trapped inside the same cramped coach space for the excruciating four days journey to reach Gotham Town; the place where they are being sent to attend the dragoon academy, which is technically outside the bounds of the town proper. Seeing as the Gotham Dragoon Academy and Somerset Dragon Range are on the opposite shores of the Gotham river to the town itself.

There's only another half-day until they reach the Mooney bridge and then the Somerset

Dragon Ranges. And luckily, Adrien and Lila have taken to sitting on the same bench, the one facing forwards. Leaving the opposite bench all for Marinette.

Not that having a whole bench to myself for this time will help with whether I can continue to survive as a captive audience for Lila. Marinette thinks to herself, rather disgruntled about this whole situation she's unwillingly ended up in. She was perfectly happily remaining an apprentice seamstress, sewing commissions for Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and the rest of her famous or otherwise clientele, not that fate seemed to care though. Of course, a part of her stipulation she fought the recruiters for, is that along with her studies she can continue her commissions for current and prior clientele alone. Which is to say, better than being completely unable to continue her main hobby and form of stress relief.

The recruiters had also said that baking and cooking would be no problem to practice, as apparently there'll be free reign to "student kitchens" alongside cooking classes so any use of either skill will be "undoubtedly encouraged". Dangerous words, Marinette muses to herself once more, because if I get claimed by a dragon the first thing I'm doing is baking all the dragon dietary-safe treats I can!

“Marinette! What do you think?” Lila asks, voice as cloying as ever.

Marinette startles and half-heartedly smiles awkwardly across at her, “ah, I'm really sorry Lila! I got distracted wondering what kind all of our dragons might end up being and how they might look!” Not, I'm going to love mine regardless of appearance unlike you.

Smiling faux-sweetly, Lila shakes her head. “Don't worry Marinette, I was only saying how we're just like those local fairytales of your town! Three close-knit friends who become powerful and famous dragoon guardians and save the world from the evil destruction of Hawkmoth and his army of shadow dragons! Out of the three of us, I would be our leader, obviously. Since I'm the only one here descended from a dragoon guardian! My grandmother even gave me a token that once belonged to my dragoon guardian ancestor!”

“Wow, you've said it before but I still can't believe how incredible you are Lila! It's going to be amazing training besides you at the academy!” Adrien gushes, gazing at Lila with adoration.

Lila preens at his words. “Thank you, Adrien! But Marinette, since you mentioned what our dragons will be, did you know my ancestor's dragon was said to be the most beautiful of all the dragons in the Justice League squadrons! My ancestor's dragon had orange scales that glimmered red and yellow like flames, and pearlescent white scales along the underbelly. Oh, and the horns were pearlescent white too! Obviously, the dragon I'll get is sure to be a descendant of that dragon and just as beautiful.”

“Wow, no wonder your ancestor's dragon was the most beautiful, they sound absolutely gorgeous! What kind of dragon do you think I'll get, Lila?” Adrien asks, eyes shining with awe and curiosity.

She puts on a show of holding her chin and humming. “Hmm, probably a golden dragon, with shiny scales as bright as the sun!”

“I hope you're right!” Adrien chuckles, “the fairy tales really would be coming true if we both get the dragons you think we will! One with scales of fire, another with scales of gold!”

“It really would.” Marinette echoes weakly, not really believing in her own words.

Lila laughs, “awww don't sound so worried Marinette, your dragon will probably be a plain and drab dragon with some sort of shade of brown, or maybe even grey. But at least it won't be attention-grabbing. So you won't need to worry about people staring and judging or dragons-forbid trying to hurt you for having a prettier dragon than any nobles!”

Marinette smiles, though it turns out far more grimace-like than intended, whoops. “Yeah… that'd be awful. Haha, I'd be really lucky to get a dragon like you described for me, Lila.”

“Oh, I'm so glad you understand, Marinette! Then again, all three of us are besties so of course you'd understand!” Lila titters, crossing her fingers, “we're just like this!”

Screaming internally, Marinette nods and keeps smiling. Dragons-almighty, I'm at the end of my thread here. Hopefully, I'll be able to leave Lila's "friendship" behind at the academy without fear of mine and my parent's reputations being ruined by Lila's mother.

Her attention is briefly taken by the rolling view outside the stagecoach, unable to help herself she mumbles to herself, “the landscape here is so pretty.”

“It is pretty I guess, but not as pretty as my home country!” Lila pipes up, jumping on the new conversation—like a shadow dragon on a sheep.

Marinette shuts her eyes for a second and breathes deeply, chanting internally. The academy will be my fresh start.

———

The academy is not in fact Marinette's fresh start.

It is well past evenfall by the time their stagecoach passes through the gates of the imposing academy. It rounds a large fountain in the centre of the courtyard with a statue of a person encircled by a large dragon. However, due to the darkness and the movements of the stagecoach, any attempts at recognising whom the statue was dedicated after are thoroughly hampered. They roll to a stop before the great stone staircase—where a figure with a smaller giant rat-like creature beside them, is waiting at the top—which clearly leads to the grand front doors of the academy.

Even with the darkness obscuring the view, it's obvious that the academy is a repurposed castle. High stone walls with crenellations and littered towers, a main keep with a multitude of buildings surrounding the inner courtyard. And the most eye-catching of all, the shadowy draconic gargoyles that seem to cling and lurk upon every building.

It's impressive to say the least, certainly the most well-fortified building Marinette has ever stepped foot in her life. Impressive enough that it has her practically clawing to pull out a sketching journal and start creating. However, she's not stupid enough to do that within Lila's presence. No, that'd undoubtedly lead to honey-coated lies and being forced to listen to her prattle on about her wondrous skills and connections to the most prestigious fashion guild in the country.

Marinette startles as the stagecoach door is opened by a footman. She doesn't fuss as Lila exits first, followed by Adrien. As she steps outside last, she nods and smiles at the footman. Whispering as audibly as she can without the other two hearing, she adds, “thank you, sir.”

The footman simply glances at her attire and nods back stiffly.

In the time it's taken to all leave the stagecoach, the figure from the stairs has walked over—a woman with long blonde hair dressed in a casual black leather riding coat, and a not-dog following behind loyally. “Good evening, you must be the potential students from the town of Paris?”

Marinette hesitates for a second before nodding along with Adrien and Lila.

Lila takes a step forwards, towards the woman. “Yes, we are! I'm Lila Rossi.”

The woman nods slowly, “and the other two must be Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, correct?”

“That's correct!” Adrien responds with a bright smile.

Marinette nods and makes an affirmative squeak instead.

“Great.” The woman says, clapping her hands. “I'm Dinah Lance and I'll be one of your instructors during your attendance here. And this,” She pauses to point to the weird giant not-rat with its yellow flecked greyish-brown fur, “is Drake, he's my Ichneumon. You'll learn all about Ichneumon and why they're used within the dragoon squadron during your time here, so don't worry if you've never heard or seen of them before.”

Drake makes a high pitched trill and takes a few steps forward, sniffing the air in front of the three of them. Before scampering in a circle around Dinah Lance.

She smiles fondly at Drake before continuing. “Unfortunately it's a little late to give you the tour of the grounds now, so we'll cover that tomorrow. Tonight we'll guide you to the dining hall for a late night's meal since it's been a long journey for you three or so I've heard, and you must be starving. Then we'll discuss the main details of your attendance, and afterwards, we will show you to the temporary rooms you will be staying in, to begin with. Any questions?”

Lila rocks on the heels of her boots before shaking her head, “no, we've got no questions!”

Adrien copies with a shake of his head too.

Marinette opens her mouth to protest, were you waiting out in the cold for us long? Will the tour teach us about the different places within the academy? Will it take long? What do you mean by the main details? Why are we staying in temporary rooms to begin with? When do our lessons start? Do we need to purchase any uniforms or schooling supplies? When will we meet our dragons? Questions bubbling in her mind like a kettle over the fire, but closes her mouth just as quickly, as she catches a glare from Lila out of the corner of her eye. With that, she also briefly and nervously shakes her head. “N–no, no questions here either, Mlle Lance.”

Internally, Marinette hopes that display is enough to tide over Lila's irritation for now.

Mlle Lance glances over the three of them, seeming to stare at Marinette a little longer than the other two. “Well then, since there are no questions, let us head to the dining hall. And don't worry about your belongings, the footman will bring them to your lodgings.”

“Oh, Mlle Lance, I'd–uh… I'd rather not hassle the staff here, I can manage bringing my belongings up on my own.” Marinette admits, wringing her hands slightly.

Mlle Lance shakes her head, “that's very polite of you but I'm afraid, as you'll be having dinner and we'll be discussing details, it'll be a little while before you head to your temporary rooms. So it'll be far easier on both you and the staff here, if you allow them to do their job.”

“Okay…” Marinette relents easily, trying to ignore Lila rolling her eyes at her.

“If there are no more further questions, then follow after me please, the academy can be rather labyrinthine for those unfamiliar with its halls.” Mlle Lance instructs, already turning around and walking back towards the great stone staircase, Drake on her heels.

———

The journey through the hallways and various anterooms of the academy takes far longer than Marinette could have anticipated. On more than one occasion, she ends up falling behind due to getting distracted by the sheer amount of luxury, art, and finery everywhere. Forcing her to frantically scurry after Mlle Lance, Lila, and Adrien—all three who seem completely at home and unperturbed or uninterested by the décor, unlike her.

By the time they reach the large and ornately carved wooden doors leading to the dining hall, Marinette is flushed bright red from the embarrassment of having fallen behind so many times.

The heavy doors creak loudly as they slowly swing open at Mlle Lance's push, revealing a large dining hall—far larger than any Marinette has seen—with seemingly hundreds of wooden tables and benches. Startlingly enough, there's a boy already seated at one of the nearer benches—eating away at a trencher of hunter's stew.

No Ichneumon in sight, Marinette notes, a fellow student perhaps?

“Good evening, Jason, I wasn't expecting anyone else to be in here at the moment.” Mlle Lance greeted, nodding her head to him.

Jason squints at Mlle Lance and hunches his shoulders defensively. “B said I could grab food from here whenever I wanted.”

Mlle Lance smiles, “and that's perfectly fine. These are new arrivals, so I was just hoping to let them have some dinner without the usual chaos before going over the main details they'll need to know about attending here.” She paused for a moment. “You don't have to stay and listen if you don't want to, since you've heard this spiel many times now. But equally, feel free to stay, I'm sure it'd be nice for you and the new arrivals to get to know each other before meeting the rest of the class tomorrow.”

Jason slowly eyes Lila, Adrien, and Marinette. He places an arm in front of his trencher. “Might as well stay then I guess.”

Mlle Lance nods at him again before guiding the three of them over to the back of the dining hall where the kitchen was connected to. A few cooks were tending to various meals and pots of hunter's stew, as well as prepping trenchers or cleaning wooden bowls, and wood or horn spoons.

Marinette is still half processing everything so receiving a trencher full of hunter's stew from the cooks barely registers in her mind. And next thing she knows, she is seated next to Lila on the end of the bench and table next to Jason, with Mlle Lance sitting opposite her, Lila, and Adrien. The other two have already started tucking into the food, so cautiously Marinette takes a few sips of the stew broth with a horn spoon.

Mlle Lance clasps her hands together and rests them on the table. “Let's start with what you three already know regarding the dragoon squadrons and this academy.”

Pausing in his eating, Adrien grins. “This is the longest standing dragoon academy, and we'll be taught everything from dragon history, to the language of the dragons, to what is known of Hawkmoth and his shadow dragon army!”

“And,” Lila pipes up, “we'll pick our dragons that we'll train alongside and eventually become fully-fledged Dragoon Guardians with.”

Jason snorts, “sorry to break it you two but this isn't some fucking fairytale.”

Before Lila or Adrien could respond, Mlle Lance cleared her throat. “Right well firstly, Dragoon Guardians is somewhat of an archaic term I'm afraid. But you're not too far off with what you know.”

Rolling his eyes, Jason pretends to be suddenly interested in his trencher of stew.

Though, Marinette does catch him briefly glancing up at her with a curious but also disbelieving look in his eyes. She can't help but instinctively curl her shoulders in and make herself as small as possible.

“And Marinette, what do you know about the academy?” Mlle Lance adds.

Marinette hesitates, trembling slightly and licks her lips. “Uh, well I know roughly the same as Lila and Adrien, so nothing that hasn't been said already…”

She catches Jason squinting at her, and she curls up even more.

Mlle Lance nods thoughtfully, “to start with, Adrien, you are correct in that this is the longest standing dragoon academy. You're also correct that we teach our students dragon history—including the history of the dragoons—as well as teaching the language of the dragon. We also do teach regarding Hawkmoth and his shadow dragon army. However, that will be taught across multiple different subjects as it isn't quite as simple as it may currently seem to you.”

Adrien beams at having been mostly correct. “My father hoped I would be chosen to attend a dragoon academy so he made sure I was taught a general overview.”

“And that's more than most know to begin with, so well done.” Mlle Lance praises, before continuing. “However, Lila, here students do not pick their dragons. The process of meeting the dragon who will be raised and trained beside you, is not what most people think of when they first hear about dragoon human and dragon pairs meeting.”

Lila's lips twitch downwards in dissatisfaction and narrows her eyes slightly at Mlle Lance.

Before anything else can be said, Mlle Lance furrows her brows, “one moment students, a matter has just arisen that I need to quickly take care of.”

With that, she rises from the bench and strides out of the dining hall, shutting the door behind her as she exits.

As soon as the door shuts, Jason, with a concerned look on his face, gets up as well and walks the few steps over to Marinette's bench. Quietly, he asks, “Hey, you okay?”

Marinette swallows a breath of air thickly, and still visibly trembling, laughs nervously. “W-well I'm a little over-overwhelmed, I suppose… What with every—”

Only to slam her mouth shut as Lila wraps her arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to her side.

“She's fine thank you,” Lila coos, “just not used to all the displays of wealth in the castle, here, isn't that right, Marinette.”

Marinette pales, eyes widening with panic and frantically nods her head. “Y-yep!”

Jason raises an eyebrow at Lila, unable to keep the slight sneer off his face as he turns ever so slightly to stare at her, “and you are?”

Lila perks up at his attention, flipping her hair back over her shoulder with one hand. “Didn't you hear Mlle Lance there, I'm Lila.” She smiles cloyingly at him and flutters her eyelashes. “I'm the daughter of a very important diplomat and one of my ancestors was an incredibly powerful Dragoon Guardian.”

Jason snorts, and rolls his eyes once more. “Right. Whatever.” He turns his attention back to Marinette and gives her a sharp nod. “What shit has the rich brat got hanging over your head?”

It clearly takes all of Lila's self-control to not immediately switch from her faux sweetness to fury. Her smile turns wooden and her gaze sharpens at Jason. “Excuse me?”

“You're excused,” Jason responds smugly.

“W-what do you mean?” Marinette asks, struggling to process the conversation after the slight cannonball that Jason just casually asked her.

He tilts his head at her, not unlike a bird. “She looks, sounds, and acts exactly like the kinda rich bastards that hold shit above kids who aren't rich, and you're clearly fucking petrified of her. So is she blackmailing you or something?”

Marinette mouths yes at him whilst shaking her head.

Jason raises an eyebrow at her for a second before shrugging with one shoulder, “alright.” He turns on his heel and heads back to his table and bench where his trencher of stew is waiting.

Lila gapes at him.

Adrien rises from his seat and stares at Jason, flabbergasted. “Aren't you going to apologise to Lila, now? You were wrong.”

Lifting his chin, Jason gives Adrien an unimpressed look then flips the bird at him. A few seconds pass before he shrugs and makes a non-committal noise of disinterest, then he starts spooning stew into his mouth.

Lila huffs and scowls at Jason. She turns to glare at Marinette, faux concern practically dripping from her words despite the evident fury on her face. “You should avoid him from now on, wouldn't want the teachers to think you're a delinquent and get kicked out before you even get to meet your dragon.”

Marinette nods slowly and keeps her attention very carefully on her food.

Her patience is rewarded as a few dozen seconds later, Lila loses interest in her and starts eating her trencher of stew whilst starting a new conversation with just Adrien.

Taking her chances, Marinette sneaks a glance up at Jason with a small smile on her lips.

To her surprise, he also happens to be looking over at her. He flashes her a cheeky grin, winks, before going back to eating.

Maybe, she muses to herself as her grin turns giddy, I was wrong about the academy not being my fresh start. Because this definitely feels like a fresh start now, it almost feels like I'm in a fairytale.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| The dragon riders are called Dragoons in reference to the mounted cavalry called Dragoons who used guns/firearms known as Dragons hence the name. And so I decided it only makes sense for these dragon riders to also be called Dragoons. Armée volante means flying army and was what the historical dragoons were sometimes known as, because of how mobile they were. |

| Ichneumon, also known as Echinemon in Medieval Zoology are enemies of dragons (and snakes and crocodiles in some accounts) and defeated them by covering themselves in armour made from mud before attacking. They are also one the only creatures (the other being weasels) that are immune to the Cockatrices' petrifying sight. |

| Fun fact: Trenchers are flat round (often stale) bread "plates" used during the medieval era. They are cut in half and sometimes the fluffy bread innards are scooped out (like pumpkins) so that the loaf's crust forms a bowl instead. Usually the bowls are used to hold stews or soups, though they were also used for non-liquid based food (which is why they later evolved into our modern day plates and cheese boards). |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette Vs Santa: The Final Round

Okay, so it’s 11:38 on Christmas. I promised I would post this today. So I am. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone. Enjoy your present.

           The jolly fat man would get his, Marinette swore. She wore a lovely gold, snowflake-embroidered cocktail dress. Her hair was done in a French side braid with voluminous Curls; more than she ever had in her entire life. Honestly, she looked like a princess.

           And it would’ve been a win for her if it wasn’t for the circumstances that made it yet another Tie against Santa.

           Roy has his hand on the small of her back since they step out of the limo. The forced sweet smile on her face was for the paparazzi that had waited outside the restaurant. When they got inside, and as they were shone to their table, Roy's hand slipped south.

Marinette stiffened and leaned close to Roy and whispered in his ear, “If you don’t get your hand off my butt, I’m going to take off one of my five-inch heels and slit your throat with it.”

Roy’s hand was gone in a flash, “Aww babe,” He said, a little loudly, nodding to the table where his parents’ Oliver and Dinah waited; their eyes watching the young couple’s every move. “You know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

           Marinette giggled, as she fought the urge to slam his against a nearby table, “Not in front of your parents. It’s called manners.”

Your lucky homicide is still technically illegal, Marinette thought viciously, and a sure-fire way to get on fat bastard’s naughty list.

           He wouldn’t win. No, Marinette had gone too far; been through too much to lose now.

“Thank you, Marinette,” Dinah stood once the two approached. She pulled Marinette into a hug. “I’ve tried to instill etiquette into Roy for years. His last girlfriends and he nearly in trouble for public indecency. Maybe you’ll do a better job than I did.”

           Marinette laughed, “I will even if I have to cut off his hand.”

           Oliver chuckled, “You’re definitely Bruce’s girl.” The resemblance was uncanny.

           After that the fell into an easy conversation.

“That dress is beautiful,” Dinah said. “Who’s the designer?”

           Marinette beamed, “I am. I love fashion. It’s my dream,” She explained. “I plan on launching my own company. While there’s always room to learn and enhance my designing skills, I feel as if I have that side at least somewhat covered. However, the business angle is something I need to learn. Which is why I plan on getting my MBA at an Ivy League. I was considering Yale or Princeton.”

“Princeton,” Oliver grinned. “Did you hear that Roy?” Roy rolled his eyes, and once again, regretted being born. “Marinette’s considering Princeton. That’s the top school on his list. Queens have gone there for generations.” He pulled his wife into a hug. “It’s where I knew Dinah was the one.”

           Dinah gave Marinette a blank stare, “I couldn’t get rid of him. It was like having bedbugs.” (“Hey!” Oliver cried in protest.) “No matter what I did, he just coming back. The only solution was to burn the entire place down and vanish without a trace. But apparently, that’s illegal or whatever. Stupid.”

“I know, right,” Marinette nodded earnestly. “What’s up with that?”

           They had a wonderful dinner. They watched a paparazzi pretending to be a waiter be escorted out of the restaurant. It was great, amazing even. Oliver and Dinah had been perfectly lovely. Roy had acted like a perfect gentleman. Marinette could’ve almost pretended she was actually meeting her boyfriend’s family. She was about to count the entire night as a win until…

“So how many grandkids should I expect in the future,” Oliver asked, a sincere look on his face, though he was snickering inside.

           Marinette chocked on her chocolate mousse and ended up in a coughing fit that Dinah helped her with. Roy had met his father’s gaze and gave him his most charming smile, “Seven,” He answered.

“Seven!” Marinette barked out and she looked around frantically as if Ashton Kutcher had revived his hit show and was about to pop out.

Oh, gods; please let me be getting punked, Marinette prayed.

            Oliver’s eyebrows went up, “Seven, huh, big family.”

           Roy hummed, “the Wayne-Queens certainly will be.”

“You mean the Queen-Waynes,” Oliver corrected, his hackles rising.

“Well, I figured since we’d be living in Gotham,” Roy didn’t even bother to hide his smirk. “We’d go by the Wayne-Queen family. I actually found this great place not too far from Wayne Manor. Plenty of room for the kids, maybe a dog or two; a rose garden. You know how Waynes are about their roses. You can visit whenever.”

           Marinette might have momentarily blacked out during this. It was how Marinette knew she had officially lost that round to Santa.

           Oliver and Dinah just looked at Roy; their entire bodies stiff.

           Dinah took a long drink from her wine glass, “Gotham has such a high crime rate. Have you considered Star City, Marinette?”

“I’ve never been,” Marinette said sweetly. “But I could live anywhere really. I’m pretty open.”

           Roy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “Yes, but I figured you’d want to spend as much time with your family as possible. Jason’s my best friend. I love Gotham. It just works. Besides Bruce Wayne would make an amazing grandpa.”

           The grip Oliver had on his dessert fork made Marinette fear for Roy’s life. It was time to step in. “I suppose Robb or Thea would love a big backyard to play in.”

           That got the other three’s attention.

“Robb? Thea?” Oliver whispered. His throat was dry. His brain tried to process what was said.

“I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But Roy and I started talking one day and well,” Marinette trailed off. A soft pink blush appeared on Marinette’s face, enhancing her overall innocent aura. She had done background on the Queen family. “Our firstborn; if it’s a boy Robb as in Robert Thomas; for your father and my grandfather. If it’s a girl, Thea Sabine; for your sister and my mother. It was Roy’s idea. He knows how much you loved them.”

           It was then that Marinette got to check off one more wish off her list. It had been made as a joke in passing to Chloe and Kagami months ago. They had been having a girls’ night. When Chloe, ever prepared, asked what they wanted for Christmas. They had been watching a Justice League fight on the news. Marinette had laughed and said she wanted to show them up one day; make a superhero cry.

           However, watching The Green Arrow tear up while the Black Canary comforted himself, made her think that Santa took her to wish out of context.

           Roy was pulled into a big hug by his parents, and he sent her a vicious glare, and mouthed, “What did you do?”

           Oliver pulled back, wiped his eyes, and said, “You know; there’s nothing like a spring wedding in Star City.”

           Marinette threw down her napkin.

Fuck Santa.

-

           The news had a field day. The picture of Marinette in her dress and Roy in his designer suit was what everyone was talking about. The women of the view talked about her outfit. Wendy Williams talked about her outfit. It was as if Marinette was living in another universe.

           Nothing could bring her down.

“What the hell?” Jason asked as he picked her up for school. “Why the fuck is Roy spamming me with hate texts. Why the fuck is Oliver arguing with B over visitation rights to his grandchildren? Who the Fuck are Robb and Thea? And why the fuck is Dad asking Aquaman if Atlantis really sunk on its own, or if it had a little help?”

           Marinette tiled her head, “Is Papa planning on sinking Star City? And that’s forty dollars for the swear jar.” Her parents had implements after one too many curse words were thrown around.

“Worth it!” Jason said. “And yes, I’ve positive that’s what’s going to happen. It’s gonna be amazing. Also, he’s gonna kill Roy!”

“He deserves it,” Marinette crossed her arms.

“Hey!”

“He put his hand on my butt!”

           Jason paused and narrowed his eyes. “Correction. I’m gonna kill Roy.”

           Marinette rolled her eyes, but then she realized something. “Aren’t they’re usually two of you? Where’s the other one?” It was the routine. She was always escorted into school by two members of the Wayne family.

           Jason smirked, “You’ll see.”

           The paparazzi mostly screamed the usual things at her. At that point, she was used to it. It was the few changes at school that she was used to.

           Damocles had been fired for bribes and severe negligence. He was replaced by Mendeleev. Bustier had been fired for her role in Marinette’s expulsion without proper procedure and basically catering to bullies while blaming the victim. She replaced by a sterner teacher name Miss Reed. She was by the book and not afraid to call in the higher-ups if something smelled fishy.

           The first was any and all forms of bullying in class was no longer tolerated. The school had issued a zero-tolerance policy that the kids in Bustier’s class had felt immediately.

           The second was Lila’s supposed medical history. No doctor’s note, no special treatment. It was also required that Lila present a note from her mother regarding any future absences.

           The third was Adrien’s being pulled randomly out of class. CPS got involved real fast regarding child labor laws.

           The days of her classmates getting away with bloody murder were over. Reed saw everything. Everything.

           Alya, who had returned to class always avoided Marinette at all times. Her parents had given her the biggest talking to about respecting others’ right to privacy. Marinette had agreed to drop any legal charges against her former friend provided she adhere to the cease and desist order. The girl knew too much about Marinette. And Marinette needed to make it clear that she would bury the girl in lawsuits before she’d allowed even one-fourth of it to be made public.

           Jason had walked her to class. But he didn’t leave. Instead, he went directly to the back of the class and took a seat next to Chloe. He pulled out his phone and proceeded to ignore the curious looks from the students.

The blond eyed the ripped jeans, the overly sized red flannel shirt, and the beat-up leather jacket, “Grunge died in the 90s. Like it deserved.”

           Jason, not bothering to look up from his phone, “Paris Hilton said it’s cool that you plagiarized her look.”

           Chloe gasped.

           Marinette just looked up at the ceiling, knowing exactly how this was going to go. Chloe would not forgive this. Jason was an asshole. It would be war.

           Miss Reed walked in and didn’t look twice at Jason.

           Marinette narrowed her eyes; something was up.

           The class went on without a hitch though until just about the end of the first period…

           When Tim and a pretty, brown-haired, tanned skin, an older woman walked in the door. They looked to be having a pleasant conversation.

“Mama,” Lila gasped, her eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” She looked around frantically.

“Ooohhhh,” Marinette nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.” That was what was happening. Operation: Get That Bitch.

“Oh!” Tim feigned surprised. “I didn’t know your daughter was in my sister’s class, Naomi.”

           Naomi had been pleasantly surprised when Tim Drake, the CEO of Wayne Industries reached out to speak to her about potential business ventures in Italy. He was in Paris visiting his sister and wanted an insider perspective on Italy’s economy and tourist information. Her bosses were thrilled. Wayne opening up a site in Italy would do wonders for the overall economic and industrial growth. Then they got to talking about a potential student exchange program that Wayne Industries were willing to fund.

           What Tim hadn’t told the Ambassador was that Wayne Industries had been scouting locations in Italy for their new plant for the last ten months. All the research was done. Everything was primed to go. Still, Tim was kind enough to ensure that Naomi Rossi received the credit for getting Wayne Industries on board.

Mrs. Rossi blinked in surprise, “I had no idea either. Lila, we’re here to discuss a potential international exchange program for kids all over the world. Tim wanted to say hello to his sister. Why didn’t you tell me you were friends with Marinette Wayne?”

           Marinette leaned forward in her seat. A slow smile spread across her face.

“I, well, I,” Lila struggled to say.

“We’re not the closest, Mrs. Rossi,” Marinette offered. “She’s always so busy, we haven’t had the time.”

“Ahh,” Tim snapped his fingers. “That Lila Rossi. Marinette told me all about her.” He crossed his arms. “Naomi, how was Achu? I haven’t gone yet. But from what Marinette’s told of Lila’s stories, you two go all the time. You become close to the royal family, yes?”

           Coldness went down to Naomi Rossi’s spine. She stiffened. Her eyes went to her daughter who had a look of dread on her face. Not this again, she nearly groaned. “There’s been some… confusion,” Mrs. Rossi said, gearing up every ounce of diplomacy she learned in her twenty-year career. Lila was so grounded after this. “A miscommunication, I suppose. My ambassadorship has taken my family to England, Spain, and Japan for a little while, and here in France, of course. However, nowhere else. We have never been to Achu. That is a bit above my paygrade, I’m afraid,” She laughed nervously.

           The class was as silent as a library. If Bustier was still there, a few students would’ve started yelling their complaints and cries for explanations. One or two would’ve started screaming at Lila for lying. But Bustier was gone. And the look Reed was giving her class, dared them to try.

           Tim chuckled, “Kids. When I was seven I swore I spent the summer in Greece with my parents. I didn’t find out until I was eleven that I was actually in Rome. What can you do?” He gave her his most charming smile. “England, was that where Lila met Jagged Stone? I think he’s from there.”

“Jagged who now?” Naomi asked. “The Rock Star? No, Lila’s never met him. She’s a huge fan though.”

“But he wrote a song about her!” Alya cried out. “She saved his cat from getting hit by a plane!”

           Miss Reed, “Alya, please raise your hand and keep to a reasonable level while inside. It will be detention if I have to tell you again.”

Miss Reed and Mendeleiev had agreed to The Wayne's suggestion of revealing Lila’s lies to the class. It was the only way they would believe it and that she could lie her way out of. It was unnatural the way the students trailed after the girl, simpering over grand stories and promises of famous connections. They needed to learn to rely on hard work and their own talent, not on how many famous people they might get to the chance to meet.

“A plane?” Mrs. Rossi asked, an affronted look on her face. “You think I would ever allow my child to be in such danger?” She looked at her daughter. “Your grandmother always said you would be a grand writer with all the stories you tell. You could’ve at least come with a sensible lie.”

“I can explain,” Lila said but whether she was talking to her mother or class was anyone’s guess.

           Rose raised her hand, “Lie? Lila can’t be lying. What about all the trips she takes with you? The charity organizations she runs? The famous people she knows like Clara Nightingale who always ask her for help. She’s close friends with Prince Ali. That’s why she’s always away from school. One time she was gone for weeks.”

           Naomi Rossi looked at her daughter, who did everything she could to avoid eye contact with her mother. “You told me that the school was closed due to the Akumas. It was a lie.” She looked at the teacher. “If the school wasn’t closed, Lila should have only missed three days of school this semester due to her being ill with the flu. She should have only missed seven to ten days in total last year. I do apologize, my daughter…” She gave Lila a dark look. “Seems to have a talent for tall tales.”

           Miss Reed stood up, “It’s a matter for the Principle. Her last teacher overlooked many things and wrote off what she couldn’t. Her schoolwork was done the year before; her grades were good enough to pass. She has not missed too many days so far; a few more than the average student but it happens. Any homework missed can still be made up. She is welcome in my class. However, when you get the chance, I would like make an appointment to discuss with you any medical accommodations she has that need to be addressed.”

           Mrs. Rossi crossed her arms, “She never wears her glasses. She has sensitive eyes that prevent her from wearing contacts. Without them, she can’t see more than a few feet ahead of her.” She looked straight at her daughter. “And she knows this.”

           Marinette wanted to bang her head against the desk. Why couldn’t Lila just say that? She’d have understood.

           Mrs. Rossi looked at the class, “I am so sorry for any trouble my daughter may have caused.” She looked at Tim. “I hope this doesn’t cast a negative light on any prospective business relations.”

           Tim shook his head, “Kids will be kids. Let’s continue to speak over lunch.”

“I’ll see you at home, Lila,” Mrs. Rossi said.

           Tim grinned, “Marinette, I’ll see you after school. Jason.”

           Jason got to leave only to stumble nearly down the stairs. He cast a quick glare at Chloe.

           The blond gave him a vicious smirk, “Walk much?”

“Oh it’s on,” Jason hissed.

           Marinette rolled her eyes. Last year, she had wished with all her might that her friends would see Lila for who she really was. Now the truth was out. Lila had been exposed.

           Regrettably, Marinette had already lost all her friends. And those who were still her friends, already knew the truth. So it wouldn’t change much. She’d had already forgiven her ex-friends a long time ago. Marinette just had to intention of being friends with them again. Still, it was a victory.

           Fuck Santa; this round went Marinette.

-

-

           The Justice League had been stunned when they learned that the masked hero Ladybug who was protecting Paris in an adorable bright red suit, who seemed to be made of sunshine, rainbows, and happiness was Batman’s daughter. Like so stunned that as soon as they saw her secret Identity of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and her takedown of monsters twelve times her size; one or two (or twelve) asked Superman to take a DNA test too. Because Bruce Wayne wasn’t the only black-haired Superhero around, and you know things happen.

           …Batman hadn’t been happy when Oracle alerted him that someone in the Watch Tower was running his daughter’s DNA against Superman’s.

“How sure are we?” Hal Jordan asked. “The DNA results never came back. How do we know she’s not Big S’s?”

           The main members of the Justice League were waiting for Batman and his family to arrive. Then they were would officially be introduced to the hero Ladybug.

           Superman glared, “Stop it. Batman already brought out the kryptonite the last time you mentioned it.”

           Wonder man nodded, “Her civilian self is the spitting image of Bruce.”

“All of his kids have dark hair and light eyes,” The Flash reminded them. “One of like seven or twelve, or however many he has now, we know for sure is his.”

“They are all his,” Black Canary stated with a growl. She and Oliver had adopted Roy when he was young but that didn’t make the boy any less hers.

           Just then the light of the zeta beam sounded and Batman and Ladybug appeared in the room. The clear contrast between the two was startling.

           The Dark, brooding, Knight of Gotham dressed in all black with a look on his face that could’ve made Superman wince in fear. Ladybug, dressed in bright red, with a big, cheerful, smile on her face and large blue eyes that looked positively mesmerized by the heroes.

“I brought cookies,” The small girl chirped as she motioned to the goodies in her hands. “And apple pie! It’s a family recipe. I made them myself. I really hope you like them.”

           Batman glared worsen to the point where a few Justice League members feared for their lives. The message was clear; they’d like them. Or else.

“I’m sure they’re wonderful,” Diana smiled. “Come on, let me show you where we’ll be meeting.

           Marinette tried not to stare in awe at her favorite superhero. “I also brought Vegan. And gluten-free cookies. I wanted to make sure everyone could get some.” She said as she was led away.

           The world-renowned heroes visibly cooed at the young hero. She was the most adorable thing they’d ever laid eyes on.

           The Flash laughed, “What did you bring, Bats?”

“Death,” Batman growled as stalked after his daughter.

           Cyborg swallowed hard. “I’m not saying you’re right,” He told Hal and Barry. “I’m saying for this type of situation; Maury is classier than Jerry Springer.”

           Superman groaned. They were going to get him killed.

“Apple pie!” The flash said. “She brought Apple, Clark; it’s a sign from the gods.”

           Ladybug briefing them on her hero journey had been riveting. The Justice League had always been aware of Ladybug's existence. Once aware of her, Diana had told them all the history of the Miraculous and how her own mother used to be one of the users. Ladybug, with Chat Noir for a time, handled herself and protected the city well. They saw no reason to interfere. The Justice League had strict rules of interfering with another’s heroes’ turf. They figured if Ladybug needs help, the hero would call on them. They never knew she was a child.

           Her age bothered them.

“She can’t protect the city,” Aquaman said. “We’ll need to step in.”

“Excuse me,” Marinette said.

           The Flash nodded, “We’ll need to run Intel. I’ll have Vibe take a look at things.”

“Wait! I don’t think you-” Marinette started but was cut off.

“The magic is ancient and powerful,” Hawkman interrupted. “We should call Constantine. Or Doctor Fate perhaps.”

           Ladybug shook her head, “That wouldn’t be a good idea!”

           Green Lantern waved her off, “It’s fine, kid. We’ll handle it. While we’re at it; consider joining Young Justice or Teen Titans. Get you some training before you call yourself a real hero. Until then stick with the little league team.”

           Marinette froze. What did he just say? White-hot anger coursed through her veins.

           And to think she always dreamed of meeting the Justice League; of standing face to face with the heroes after having proven herself; proven that she was just as much of a superhero as they. However, Marinette knew she was already a hero. And no one would tell her otherwise.

           The round went to Santa. But Marinette would have her due.

           Fuck Santa!

Superman said, “We’ll start having unplaced league members scouting the area. They’ll notify us at the first sign of Hawkmoth.”

“ENOUGH!” Marinette yelled. She growled at the heroes. “Who the hell do you think you are?” The silence that followed that question was deafening. “You know nothing of Hawkmoth; saw nothing of what I’ve been through. There is a reason I never called in the league. Superpowered individuals still have emotions; still anger. He can turn any of you into akumas. Get inside your heads; learn who you really are. You’ll be a toy for him. Batman brought me here to meet you; not for you to pretend you know how to do my job.”

           She glared at the room and then zeroed in on the Green Lantern. Within seconds, Ladybug had yanked him out of his seat, pulled the ring off his finger, and held by his collar as the man detransformed. “Real Hero? You think I’m not a real hero? I’ve fought monsters nightmares couldn’t even begin to fathom. You want to see what I’m capable of, Glow Stick? How about I take you to the nearest training room and see if you bleed green?”

           Batman stood up, “My team will be running point on the Paris situation; following Ladybug lead. You’ll refrain from entering the city of Paris until further notice. That is all.” He looked at his daughter and had to fight to keep the smile off his face. “Ladybug let Green Lantern go, and give him back his ring.”

           Ladybug huffed, “I’ll give him back his ring. And then I want ten minutes alone with him.”

           Hal gulped.

“No,” Batman said. “We must leave. You have to get ready for Winter break. Next time.”

           Ladybug glared and then dropped the hero on the ground. “Next time,” She promised.

           Then swiftly the father and daughter duo departed.

           Once the two were gone, Wonder Woman chuckled, “Anyone else want to question Ladybug’s Paternity. Anyone?”

           Barry had to fight the shivers that went through him. Ladybug had Batman’s glare and knew how to use it. “Nope. Never again.”

-

-

           Marinette’s first night in Gotham was memorable. The entire bat family had been waiting for Marinette when she arrived; Bruce, Alfred, Kate, Dick, Barbara, Jason, Cassandra, Tim, Stephanie, Luke, and Damian. Alfred, the man her brothers had deemed their grandfather, had welcomed her with open arms and a dinner that was more like a feast than a simple meal.

           On the outside, Wayne manor looked like any home in the neighborhood; quiet, idealistic, and seemingly perfect.

           On the inside, as soon as Bruce and Alfred stepped away for a moment, her siblings took her to the Batcave. It was as grand as she always imagined. Then someone (Tim) brought out lightsabers.

           Marinette thought it was a fancy version of the toy she used to love so much as a kid; her only complaint was that the plastic swords only came in green, red and the occasional blue. She really wanted a pink one and had put it on her Christmas list for two years straight.

           She pressed the button, only for the sword handle to heat up, and a pink laser rises out of it. “Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“…This is a real lightsaber,” The heat from the sword threated to burn or hand a little. Or worse. She’d seen all the movies. She knew how this usually ended up.

“Yep.”

           Marinette nodded slowly. Because what the heck.

“Just go with it,” Luke shrugged. “Just-just go with it.” He sounded like a defeated man. A tired one at that.

“Don’t be like that!” Dick smiled, “Family bond time is the best time.”

“Jedi versus Sith?” Marinette just asked.

           Tim pointed a bright gold lightsaber at her, “Jedi versus Sith.”

           Marinette looked around at the different colored and very, very dangerous lightsabers. There was no way this could possibly go well. And with the way her Kate, aka Batwoman, was smirking there was no way Alfred would consider her proper adult supervision. Someone was going to lose a hand. Or die. Most likely both.

           But she wouldn’t back down. This was more or less her eight-year-old self’s dream. It was also likely to get her killed.

           …Marinette would take those odds.

“What team am I on?” She asked.

           Cassandra shook her head, “Up to you. Good versus is a chose; just a game though,” She cast Stern looks at Jason, Tim, and Damian, who now sported black robes, clearly, by the Darth Maul make up that had somehow appeared on Damian’s face, were clearly Sith Lords.

           Santa thought this would scare her. That she would be cowed into submission. Finally admit defeat. Well, Marinette only had one thing to say to that. Two things actually.

“Give in to the dark side, sister,” Damian ordered her. His lightsaber was red and had two sides to it much like the character he matched.

           Marinette got into a fighting stance, “Not today.”

           And Fuck Santa.

           …

           Alfred and Bruce were not happy when they finally located the children.

           Or the fact that someone had to get their hand reattached.

--

--

           It was two to two. Christmas day had arrived. Marinette had expected the worst; had geared up for the worst.

           Nothing happened.

           Marinette spent the day with her family.

           Her parents had even arrived from Paris on the day before Christmas eve.

           They shared presents. They sang songs. The entire family was together. It snowed outside. She and all of her siblings had a snowball fight while her parents and Alfred watched from the porch.

           It was a perfect Christmas day.

           Except for one thing…

           Marinette knew the truth.

           The perfect day was the result of one thing…

           Santa was preparing too. He didn’t back down. The fight wasn’t over yet. He was too busy to mess with her on Christmas Eve or Christmas. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean anything.

           Everyone knew the Holiday season didn’t officially end until January 1st.

           After New Year’s eve.

           That was the final round.

           The match to end all matches.

           On New Years’ Eve, it would be war.

-

-

           Roy wore a tailored tux as he walked her down the carpet, passed the flashing lights of the paparazzi.

Marinette never thought she’d fight the most battle of her life in a ballgown. It was a jaw-dropping, off the shoulder, floor length silver dress with lacy unique floral accents. Her hair was in a side-braid with small forget-me-nots on top of her hair like a crown.

            It was her battle armor, and she was ready for anything.

           It was a promise, she made to herself.

           …

           Okay so it turns out, Marinette lied to herself.

           She wasn’t ready for anything. She did not stand a chance against Santa. He was a jerk. And she was six-second from throwing in the towel and running off crying.

           Marinette had known exactly who was attending the ball. She had memorized every guest on the list. Trying to figure out exactly what the fat guy who throws out her. As soon as she saw exactly which celebrities were coming. She knew.

           The first punch had been the man ten-year-old Marinette swore she was going marry. Harry freaking Styles.

           But Marinette had prepared herself.  It would be a quick conversation and then she wouldn’t speak to him for the rest of the night.

           When she met the superstar, Marinette had smiled and laughed; had a good conversation, wasn’t even awkward at all. She wasn’t the overly One Direction obsessed 10-year-old anymore.

           It was a hard hit, and the best conversation of her life, but Marinette didn’t go down.

           Santa’s next move was a cheap shot, and she stumbled.

           Marinette had been trying to find a quiet place to think for herself so could get strengthen up a bit but, to avoid one of her brothers (Dick), she collided straight into Nick Jonas and fell on her butt.

           She hadn’t even realized it at first as he helped her up.

“Thank you,” Marinette said kindly, as she brushed off her dress. When she looked up and saw exactly who had collided with, her face turned a bright red. “You’re Nick Jonas,” She squeaked; literally squeaked. She wanted to die.

           Nick Jonas. She loved Nick Jonas. She listen to all his songs; even his old Jonas Brothers ones. She had always wanted to meet the singer; she had dreamed about it.

“Yeah,” Nick smiled. “You alright.”

           No. Marinette was not alright.

           Still, she chirped a quick, “I’m fine.” And introduced herself.

           Then he said, “Love your dress.”

“I made it! I can make you one!” Slipped out before she could stop it.        

           He just laughed though, “How about a suit instead?”

           Yeah, so that happened.

           And the night just got worse from there.

           …

           Santa gave her a combo hit; worthy of a champion.

           Not many knew but Marinette was a huge Harry Potter fangirl. Hermione Granger was her all-time favorite. She was a hardcore Harmony shipper; Harry/Hermione forever.

           Tim knew it though. He was a big-time fan as well. And he thought it would be a great idea to introduce Marinette to the actress who played her favorite character; Emma Watson.

           It was not a good idea. At all.

The first words out of Marinette’s mouth upon seeing Emma Watson were literally, “It's leviOsa, not levioSA!”

And it was at the point that Marinette just wanted to call it a night.

Emma had laughed it off, promising she got it all the time.

…

Marinette met Chris Hemsworth and just wouldn’t stop giggling.

Stephanie had to pull her away.

It was then that she knew Santa had her on the ropes.

…

She met Big Time Rush.

The boy band had become internally famous over the last few years. Not as big as One Direction but they still had their dedicated fans. Marinette was one of them

Kendall Knight, James Diamond, Carlos Garcia, and Logan Mitchell. They were all eighteen

It should’ve have been easy. She liked their band but not nearly as much as she liked Harry Styles, or Emma Watson, Or Chris Hemsworth.

Still, she hadn’t seen James asking her to dance coming.

However, Marinette had remained calm and cool.

It’s a pity, she was still such a klutz.

Suffice to say, Marinette wouldn’t be listening to Big Time Rush for a while. And James Diamond wouldn’t be asking strange girls to dance any time soon.

Santa gave her a punch right in the face.

…

She ran into Tom Holland the exact moment she got the hiccups. He did his best to help her get rid of them

…

Marinette had just stuffed an entire cupcake in her mouth when she realized Jennifer Lawrence was standing next to her. It wasn’t too bad. As the blond did the same thing a second later.

…

She pointed at Johnny Depp and said, “Jack Sparrow. You’re Jack Sparrow. Oh my god!!!”

           To which he replied, “Captain Jack Sparrow.”

           …

           Suffice to say, Santa didn’t have Marinette on the robes anymore.

           No, Marinette was on the floor; waiting for the referee to call it.

           …

           It was an hour until the official New Year. Fifteen minutes until Marinette was supposed to perform. She was backstage. Everyone was waiting for her. She promised Tim.

And she found that she just couldn’t do it.

           The entire night was too much.

           It was all too much.

           It was over.

           She had lost.

“Rough night?” Roy, her date and pretend boyfriend asked.

           Marinette was sitting on a chair, her face in her hands, “You have no idea.”

           Roy sat next to her, “Pretty exciting though right?” He didn’t get an answer. “Tim said you met Emma Watson, that had to be awesome.”

“It was embarrassing.”

           Roy frowned, “Sabine told me you used to dress up as Hermione Granger all time. You’re saying meeting the Queen herself wasn’t even a little cool?”

           Yeah, it had been amazing to meet her in person. “A little cool.”

           Roy chuckled, “You met Harry Styles,” He reminded. “And from your blond bestie told me; my only real competition.”

           Marinette giggled. “That had been… awesome.” And everything.

“You met Chris Hemsworth,” He added. “Tom Holland, Big Time Rush, and a bunch of other celebs that I’ve been told you were huge fans of. Yeah, you were a little embarrassed.” He shook his head. “But I don’t get it; I’d be so psyched right now if I were you. So why aren’t you.”

           Marinette paused.

           Why wasn’t she?

           Marinette had met people she never even dared to really hope she’d ever meet one day. She wore the most beautiful dress in her entire life; danced with Roy Queen and James Diamond. Joked with Harry Styles. Talked Emma Watson the actress who played the character she loved most out of all the books, tv shows, and movies she’d ever loved.

           It was all a matter of perspective really. Marinette was so focused on the bad, she never even realized just how great it was. Santa had thrown the worst at her but was still there. She hadn’t run back to Wayne Manor no matter how much she had wanted to. She stayed strong.

           At one point, she knew for certain that she wouldn’t just surrender; after the Chris Hemsworth incident. If Santa wanted to win, he was going to have to knock her out.

“Thanks, Roy,” She said. “I couldn’t wish for a better date.”

           It was the most amazing night of her life.

           And no one was going to make her feel otherwise.

           Marinette stood up, determination on her face.

           She had a song to sing.

           …

           Marinette stood on stage. The crowd looked up at her. Her hands were shaking. Her mouth felt dry. The lights were near blinding.  She had changed the song at the last minute. The music was coming from her phone anyway.

           Marinette knew the lyrics to the song by heart; had sung it a thousand times in her room to herself.

           She could do this.

I will do this, Marinette swore.

           The music started. It was her favorite song. And Marinette was going to sing it so loudly, so proudly; they could hear her in the North Pole.

“What if I told you

It was all meant to be

Would you believe me

Would you agree

It's almost that feelin'

That we've met before

So tell me that you don't think I'm crazy

When I tell you love has come and now.”

           She was doing it. Marinette was really doing it. She always had a good voice. She had taken singing lessons for a long time. And her teachers always praised her talent. But after one terrible incident, she never thought she’d ever get on stage and sing in front of anyone again.

           But there she was.

“A moment like this

Some people wait a lifetime

For a moment like this

Some people search forever…

           Honestly, Marinette could fall right on her face and it would stop the euphoric feeling coursing through. This was her victory song.

           Jolly Saint Nick had thrown at her more than she ever thought she could take. But she was still standing.

           And as long as she was, the big red guy would never win.

For that one special kiss

Oh, I can't believe it's happening to me

Some people wait a lifetime

For a moment like this…”

The music faded. The applause from the audience roared.

…

Marinette and Roy slow danced to something my Celine Dion neither could recognize. The New Year was less than two minutes away.

“You’re looking a lot better,” Roy smirked. He knew he was good at Pep talks to matter what Artemis said.

“I feel better,” Marinette admitted. “It’s been an awesome few weeks.”

“Yeah?” Roy asked as he twirled her around.

           Marinette nodded, “Nearly Every. One. Of. My. Christmas wishes came true.” She tried not to growl. Positive outlook after.

“Santa must be out to get you.”

           Marinette looked up at Roy with appreciation, “You have no idea.”

“Anything he didn’t get to?” The redhead asked. “Something you can do for yourself first?”

“Countdown to New Years in 10!”

           Marinette thought about it for a second but she realized there was. There was one more thing on her list, that she added at the very beginning of Christmas.

“Yeah, there is.” She said. “Do you want to kiss me.”

           Roy nodded earnestly.

           The crowd counted down. “7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1” And then Marinette kissed Roy.

           Balloons came from above. Everyone cheered. But Marinette kept kissing Roy.

           She always wanted a New Year’s kiss.

           Take that and stick it up your chimney, Santa.

           Marinette was officially the winner.

           Nevertheless, there was always next year.

           But for now, fuck Santa!

[doof-doofblog]

"If You Don't Get A Move On You're Going To Miss It!"

Monday 10th May 2021

Hello again folks! I'm back again with another post. I just want to recap on Thursday's and Friday's episode and applaud the phenomenal performance from Lorraine Stanley! Her portrayal of Karen Taylor has been absolutely stunning and powerful over the last few weeks during Bailey's disappearance and during the aftermath of her losing her job at the laundrette. I do also want to mention how the community and neighbours rallied round her to support their friend and neighbour in their time of need. I found completely touching and was overwhelmingly powerful.

But regarding this week, it's the week the majority of us have all been waiting for since Ben and Callum got engaged! This is the week of the highly anticipated Ballum wedding! Now the big question is, will Ben meet Callum at the alter after he's learnt the truth about him being a grass! (From what the new trailer is to go by, Ben does actually decide to marry Callum) - but oh my goodness, it looks like we're in for some super dramatic scenes this week! For those of you who haven't seen the trailer yet, where have you been? Gray is once manipulating Whitney in to believing that the Mitchell's (particularly Ben) are to blame for Kush's death.

But as Whitney’s grief gets the better of her, she takes it into her own hands to deal with the Mitchell's once and for all, taking a pair of keys, getting into a car and heading straight for them. As this is happening, Phil happens to have learnt the truth about Callum grassing up his family and is eager to have a confrontation with Callum himself, but as Kat tries her best to stop Phil from making a huge mistake - Phil, Callum, Ben and Kat all get caught in the headlights of Whitney's car - who will she hit? And will they be okay?! - I know a few are speculating that it could be Callum or Ben who gets hit, or even Whitney herself getting hurt, but honestly - my biggest fear is Phil getting hurt. Don't get me wrong I love all these characters to appear to be in the frame, but I would be immensely heartbroken if it was Phil to get hurt and possibly be killed off? Hopefully none of them will get killed off - but what are your predictions? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one!

--

So looking at Monday's episode and of course it's all about Ballum!!! But before we focus on the main event I'm going to mention Bailey. Sadly she is still sleeping rough after running away from home. The only company she has is her dog Banjo (who can I just say is the most adorable dog that EastEnders has had for a very long time!) It appears that the only bit of food she has available is a packet of biscuits and of course being a hungry puppo, Banjo longingly stares at Bailey for the biscuit she's about to eat. Bailey willingly gives Banjo the biscuit, but as she begins to gather her things together and move along, a bunch of youths rob her only bag of belongings. Being the hero, Banjo quickly chases after them as Bailey following along behind.

However, meanwhile on the Square as Keegan and Bernie continue to search for Bailey and begin to discuss their concerns about where they're going to find her. Bernie tries to keep positive, informing her brother that Bailey will be found and eventually their luck will change. Of course Keegan is doubtful, but of course we know that Bernadette has offered to be Stuart & Rainie's surrogate, so eventually she will come into some money for the family, but it'll be interesting once her family find out. I'm intrigued on how Keegan is going to react - considering that it was his wife who originally agreed to be their surrogate, now it's his sister!

As Bernie takes her leave, the next thing we see is little Banjo running towards the Square, however the poor little doggo is covered in blood. Keegan understandably relieved to see Banjo, but as soon as he sees the blood coming from the family pet, he begins to question where Bailey is. As Bailey continues her search for her beloved dog, she stumbles across an elderly man named Reg claiming to be a friend of her parents, Mitch and Dinah. Could Bailey perhaps be in danger or is this gentleman genuinely who he says he is?!

--

Elsewhere on the Square, Linda appears to be concerned for Nancy's whereabouts. She reveals that Nancy didn't come the previous evening, even though Mick seems more calmer about the situation, he tries to reassure Linda that Nancy had probably just stayed at a friend's house and would most likely be home by lunchtime, however unbeknown to them, poor Nancy had actually kipped in the gym overnight. It seems that things have gotten that bad between Nancy and her Mum, she could no longer bare to stay in the Vic overnight. As Sharon finds her as she opens up the gym, Nancy promises it's not going to be a long-term thing.

I guess Sharon kind of sympathises with Nancy as she too has felt the raff of Linda, but of course Sharon could be possibly using Nancy to get back into Linda's good books? She offers Nancy to use her shower back at her place and willingly gives her the keys to her apartment. Unfortunately, this is where Nancy once again passes ways with Zack and his awful flirtation. Sorry, but it is a bit cringe-worthy! Zack smooth talks his way with Nancy, claiming that once she's done in the shower he'll treat her to some breakfast!

I have to say I love Nancy's lack of enthusiasm, well I guess you could call it sarcasm also! Honestly though, how would you feel if Zack and Nancy were to become a new couple? I'm not sure how I'd feel about it, as much as I love Nancy, I haven't really made my mind up yet on Zack, I think we need to see a bit of him before I can make a decision. Anyway, they both end up in Ruby's club and Zack is once again flirtatious and eager to get a second date with Nancy, even though she even states that this is anything but a date! As she mentions how she's currently stuck in a ruckus with her Mum, she frets about not even being able to brush her teeth properly as she hasn't got a tooth brush, plus she wants to avoid going home to fetch her one and be confronted by her Mum yet again.

I think in an attempt to win Nancy round he promises that somehow, someway he will make all her problems disappear, but she scoffs at his claim and heads towards to the bar to grab some snacks. But while she's not looking Zack sneaks off and eventually finds himself in the Vic, nosing through all the Carter's belongings, is he simply just trying to find Nancy's toothbrush for her, or perhaps something else? Unfortunately his search doesn't last very long as he's walloped over the head with a frying pan by Linda! Almost like a scene from the Disney movie Tangled!

--

Right focusing on the main story at hand, as Callum and Stuart prepare themselves for the wedding, Callum voices his concern as to whether Ben will truly show up to their wedding. Stuart also voices his concern as to whether his brother should actually go, he can't bare to picture his young brother being left stood up at the alter. But the interesting thing is on the other side of the Square, as Kathy and Phil are discussing the wedding and the fact that Ben would be making a huge mistake if he didn't turn up, Ben is sat on the stairs in the hallway listening to their every word.

Kathy is all dressed up in her wonderful wedding outfit and of course little Lexi looks beautiful in her bridesmaid dress, rehearsing her steps for the wedding ceremony. Phil informs Kathy that Ben is adamant that the wedding is off, but Kathy urges the Father of their son to talk Ben round and make him see sense! Eventually as everyone gathers in the Vic waiting for Ben to show his face, Phil appears all dressed up his suit and breaks the news that Ben has gone missing, he's simply left his suit on his bed and disappeared, much to the family's shock.

While all this chaos appears to be happening in the middle of the Square, poor Callum and Stuart have made it to the register's office and are waiting anxiously for Ben's arrival! As they hear someone bursting through the doors, they look with hope and desperation, but it appears to be Jay. But as much as Callum is happy to see him, Jay gives him the devastating news that Ben has gone AWOL and no one can find him anywhere. Eager to make sure that his brother marries the man he loves, Stuart takes it upon himself to go back to the Square and find Ben and bring him to Callum.

Although it appears that Phil has managed to find Ben before he can. Phil eventually finds his son in the Arches working away on a car, almost as if he's trying to avoid the day itself and carry on as normal. Phil tries once again to reassure his son that marrying Callum would be the best thing he's ever done, even admitting that it took him a long time to come round - this moment really touched me - but also claiming that if Ben was to marry Callum today, it would Phil the proudest he has ever been of his son. I have to say those words really moved me, and to be honest I think it moved Ben - almost to the point where it nearly broke him and he almost revealed what Callum had done.

Ben gets so overcome with emotion, tears are slowly falling from his eyes. He almost breaks as he informs his Dad that Callum had betrayed him, all of them! Phil looks to his son with confusion in his eyes. What does he mean, all of them? But Ben stops in his tracks and makes up the excuse that Callum actually cheated on him. Although it seems as though Phil doesn't believe this explanation, he takes it on the chin and leaves Ben to it. However, once he's back on the Square he comes face-to-face with Stuart ... now this is where everything goes completely wrong! Of course Stuart has no idea what's been happening on the Square, he's just concerned about his little brother waiting at the alter for the man he loves.

As they cross paths, Stuart pleads Phil to inform her where Ben has got to, but Phil seems eager to defend his son after the explanation he's been given, as soon as Phil mentions that he welcomed Callum into the family, Stuart completely gets the wrong end of the stick and reveals everything. Claiming that Callum never wanted to go undercover, claiming that all he did it for was for Ben, putting his career on the line for Ben, even if it meant going behind Phil's back and reporting everything to the police. But you can see from the look in Phil's face that this is all news to him and this is the first he's hearing about Callum's betrayal. Once Stuart realises his mistake he warns that if Phil ever lays a finger on Callum he will come back and kill him!

Returning to the Arches, Ben is once again alone with his thoughts, is he questioning himself whether he should marry Callum? But it seems like another visit from a little lady changes his mind. Lexi finds him in the Arches and comments that it's the same place she finds him every time when Ben decides to take some time on his own. Now this moment I absolutely loved, Lexi questions her Father about love, What does it mean? What's it all about? She claims that she doesn't believe in love, considering that her Mum has had 3 different boyfriends since she's been home and her Grandparents have been married "300 times!". Her exaggerations make Ben giggle, but he tries to reassure his daughter that she should believe in love, because it's the one thing in life that you can't describe the feeling of. It can hurt but it's also wonderful too to be in love. He claims that being with that one person who trusts you and believes in you is the best feeling in the world and with them by your side, you face the world together, forever. As he explains all this to his daughter, she then asks the very important question, "Then why aren't you marrying Callum?"

Listening to his own words and realising that it's been his daughter who's made him see sense, Ben rushes to the wedding reception. As the guests almost sit themselves up and get ready to leave as they believe Ben isn't showing up, Stuart arrives back at the wedding reception eager to inform his brother about what's happened on the Square between him and Phil. But before Stuart can begin to explain himself, both Lexi and Ben burst through the door just in time for the ceremony, to Callum's absolute happiness and relief.  

Only unbeknown to them, back at home, Phil is seen listening to a voice message from Kathy, informing him that the wedding appears to be back on. Ben has arrived at the wedding reception and she urges him to get there before he misses his son getting married. As the voice message ends, Phil notices a picture of Callum on the shelf, all dressed up smartly in his police uniform. Reeling from the news he's learnt from Stuart, he smashes Callum's picture to pieces. What is Phil going to do now?

--

I know there's been a major event happen in this evening's episode of EastEnders, but unfortunately I am one episode behind, so I will review tonight's episode tomorrow instead. I know what's happened but I'm not to comment until tomorrow. Either way, I'm looking forward to witnessing what happens next. Thank you again for reading, I hope you've all enjoyed my post! I'll be back again tomorrow with everything regarding the Ballum wedding and much more! Enjoy the rest of your evening folks! Love you all xXx

[post-itpenny]

❝ You can never trust a monster. ❞

It’s been waaaaay too long since I’ve written anything. So how about a DBD fic?

Can’t Go Back

He had gotten used to sneaking around. Thomas supposed it wasn’t any different to all the old buildings he and his friends used to explore back in his old life. Ducking under collapsing fences and “keep out” signs. Hiding from security guards assigned to keep nosy people out of abandoned places.

Thomas honestly found it refreshing to pick up old habits. He had explored a couple places quite a bit, normally avoiding the inhabitants however, he had experienced a few close calls. One trip to Midwich nearly ended with Thomas spending the night in the clocktower to hide from Pyramid Head. Several visits to the Wrecker Yard had earned a surprise run-in with The Wraith who thankfully was just as spooked to find Thomas there and merely escorted the survivor to the gate. Thomas went on to visit a few more times and ended up learning The Wraith’s name was Philip, and was a surprisingly chill guy.

He had also tried saying hello to The Witch the few times he saw her stalking through the trees in passing. She would always slow down and stare at him, reminding Thomas very much of a cat looking down at you from above, confused by your behavior.

As he walked through the foggy woods towards today’s destination he began to wonder if perhaps he should invite one of the others to join him. Mary seemed ok, so had Steve and Nea, maybe they would be up for this kind of stuff.

But today was a solo visit for a reason.

It was always strange crossing from the woods to one of the killer’s realms. But the jarring transition into the theater never ceased to throw him for a moment. Thomas had no choice but to go through one of the only two entrances. Either the front doors, or a backdoor behind the stage. Ironically enough Thomas knew it was better to take the front, knowing the realms owner would be most likely stalking around the stage.

The theater smelt of ash despite not looking like the burnt wreck he knew it to actually be. Dusty and old yes, but not the barren and burnt wreck covered in years of grime and graffiti that he had first seen in what felt like a lifetime ago. He wondered if perhaps this was Irene’s doing. He had noticed it with her too when in trials. Underneath the expensive perfume she always wore- the slightest smell of burnt skin.

There was a sound, the soft sigh of keys on a piano dancing up scales. Thomas froze, taking in what should have been stange and out of place but in truth the sound felt natural. Erie, but as if it was always here and a part of the realm’s atmosphere.

Thomas crept along the halls and along the rows of seats. Irene sat at an old piano on the stage. Head bowed, eyes closed, a soft melody slowly taking shape as her fingers ran up and down keys. Thomas’ heart pounded, this was dangerously close to trouble but too thrown off by how calm and at peace the killer looked. For once she was not scowling, but as if her mind was somewhere else and at some degree of peace. “The Muse” was a name that grated on his nerves and certainly not one he picked. But in this moment Thomas could see that it was indeed a good fit.

A part of him actually felt tempted to stay and listen, but Thomas had come for a reason and could not waste the opportunity of Irene being distracted.

Thomas took a steading breath, dropping to his hands and knees to crawl between the seats towards the far side of the auditorium.

“Good evening.”

His heart dropped, skin growing cold. Thomas curled in on himself at the sound of Irene standing up from the piano.

“While I am normally quite happy to entertain an audience, this was not a scheduled performance. Don’t think you can hide.”

Thomas was shaking, how did she catch him? But it was too late to hide, better to show himself and prepare to run. He took a deep breath and stood up.

Irene was gone.

Thomas blinked, then blinked again, before bolting to the far side of the auditorium.

Part of him cursed himself for not just running for the exit, but his mind had still been on his mission. Entering a hallway and down a set of stairs. A boarded up window at the far end.

“It won’t work.”

Thomas skidded to a stop, slowly turning to find Irene calmly standing behind him. A hammer in hand.

She had gone to grab a weapon apparently.

Irene smiled, “well hello Thomas.”

Thomas scowled, trying not to flinch as she tightened her grip on the weapon.

“It won’t work you know. Trying to go back the way you arrived. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news my dear but you can’t leave, none of us can.”

“Where's the sword?”

“It needs sharpening,” Irene responded with a casual shrug as she stepped forward. “Are you so desperate to come here? What's the matter Thomas have you not made any friends? I assumed you and the others were quite good chums. The chorus often forms a rather endearing bond with each other.”

“Oh and I’m sure you’re so popular.”

Irene scowled but before she could retort there came a strange shift in the air along with frighteningly familiar groans and whispers of The Entity.

Thomas shouted in surprise as Irene lunged for him, only instead of attacking she grabbed his arm.

“What the fuck are you-”

“Quiet! We only have a minute to get out of the way.”

She dragged him upstairs and into one of the box seats. The door slamming shut behind them and the lights dimming until they were left in the dark.

Irene sat down and smoothed her clothes, gesturing to a chair next to her, “it looks like you will be joining me for the show today. Sit”

The order irritated him, but the thought of sitting next to Irene was honestly frightening. The killer sighed in frustration and yanked him into the chair. They watched as the theater rearranged itself. Familiar loops, vaults, and pallets materializing as generators arose out of a low fog.

A trial was starting.

Directly below their seats Philip appeared from nothing. The killer briefly looked up at the two of them before turning to the sound of what could only be a survivor desperately trying to sneak away. Someone must have spawned in right next to The Wraith, how unlucky.

Thomas stood up wanting desperately to beg Philip to not go for whoever it was before a hand clamped over his mouth. The smell of roses and burnt skin filling his nose.

“If you interfere we will both be forced to leave.” Irene hissed in his ear before pulling him back down into his seat.

It was Mary who had The Wraith’s attention, she dogged around his attacks with ease and escaped into the darkness of the theater. Thomas was forced to watch as David would not be so lucky. Claudette after that.

“You can never trust a monster Thomas dear.” Irene mused, casually watching  the scene below as Claudette’s screams faded away. “But are they all not monsters? I’ve seen how quickly your combined altruism fades, how numb you become to each other's pain when one cannot keep up with their part. Hurt too often and too much a burden to heal, miss one too many cues, the ones left behind at the end. Are you all not monsters too?”

“I don’t kill people.”

“I’m not talking about that.”

“We forgive each other afterwards.” Thomas snapped in a harsh whisper. “We care about each other.”

“You don’t trust any of them and we both know it. Why defend them when you are better off without?”

“Why act like you care?”

“I don’t, but you and I are a set. Not co-leads but still counterparts. Allowed to be here because we are here together.”

“So you picked me over Dinah on purpose?”

“Your sister?” Irene paused, as if unsure how to answer. In the distance a generator sounded off.

“I wanted you both.” Irene finally answered. “I was told I could only have one however. But if she held on I would have been allowed you both. Our director mentioned something about timing you see but… If she held on I would have had you both.”

For the rest of the match, they sat in silence. There was nothing else to be said.

[raywritesthings]

Bird in a Storm 9/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn, Quentin Lance, Dinah Lance, Ted Grant, Thea Queen, John Diggle, Female OCs, Male OCs Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

Dinah left the Starling City airport with her suitcase rolling behind her, a small bout of nerves starting to grow. It had been so long since she’d been here, she almost didn’t recognize the place. And she worried perhaps the people wouldn’t recognize her.

But she had news, urgent news. And she needed help. Maybe once Sara was back home safe and sound, everything would be alright.

She had Laurel’s address written on a little post-it note. The sticky part on the back had long worn out, but she’d managed to hang onto it all these years. Every so often on a birthday or Christmas, she took it out and considered… but it would have been too late, she had always reasoned. Her daughter would have wondered why she had decided to reach out at that moment. Well, now she did have a reason.

She took the elevator up to the third floor and rolled her suitcase all the way down the hall, knocking on the door at the end. Dinah drew in a deep breath as she waited, hearing footsteps approach.

A young man in a shirt and tie answered the door. “Hello?”

Dinah’s greeting caught in her throat, unsure of what to do. Was this a friend of Laurel’s? More than a friend?

“Tim, who is it?” A young woman’s voice called out. A young woman who was decidedly not her daughter.

“I’m sorry. I must have gotten the wrong address,” she stated before Tim could answer. “I’m visiting family.”

“Oh. Well, if you need a directory or something—”

“No, that’s alright.” Dinah gripped the handle of her suitcase and took a step back. “I’ll be fine.”

She turned and left the building. With great reluctance, she directed her feet towards the precinct. She’d been hoping to speak to Laurel before Quentin, but if needs must then they must.

Dinah wasn’t surprised to find him working. He always was. She found him with his head buried in a file, only a little worse for wear than when she’d last seen him.

“Just a minute,” he said with a vague wave in her direction.

“That’s alright,” Dinah replied and watched as he froze before looking up at her.

“Dinah. What- what are you doing here?” He was staring at her like she was a ghost, and he stood slowly, one hand braced on the desk.

“Well, it’s about Sara. And about Laurel, I suppose,” she added with a shrug. “Do you know where I can find her? I tried her old apartment, but she seems to have moved out.”

“Yeah, she did that about a month ago,” Quentin told her. “Look, I’ll give you the address, but I better go over there with you. It’s in the Glades.”

“The Glades?” Even when she’d been living in Starling, the Glades hadn’t been the nicest place to find yourself. From the few news stories she’d read at times while feeling nostalgic, that had only gotten worse. “What is she doing there?”

Quentin sighed and grabbed his keys. “I’ll explain on the way.”

He started with the appearance of the vigilante known as the Hood, how he’d reached out to Laurel and how their daughter had supported him. The botched attempt at bringing him in that had resulted in Laurel’s name becoming attached to the Hood and how she’d been forced to choose between him and her job. Laurel’s subsequent fall from grace.

Even listening to the explanation, it was hard for her to grasp. “Quentin, how could this happen?”

“Well, it did. And don’t look at me like that. At least I was here.”

Dinah stared down at her lap. His words were only so biting because they were true. But he didn’t understand why she hadn’t been able to stay. None of them could.

He slowed down as they turned onto a narrow street with cars parked up both sides. “Well, which one is it?”

“I’m looking.” He stopped peering out the window to glance back at her sheepishly. “We, uh, got into it a bit, and I haven’t been over yet. But we’re patching things up.”

Dinah said nothing. She couldn’t exactly criticize him. And if both her ex-husband and daughter were in forgiving moods already, perhaps that was for the better.

He finally picked a spot to parallel park in and they both got out. A dog was barking somewhere off in the distance, and loud music echoed out of a window down the street.

Quentin knocked on the door. When it opened, Dinah couldn’t hold in a gasp.

Five years was five years, yet still they had not prepared her for the differences in her daughter. Laurel’s eyes jumped from Quentin to Dinah, widening for a moment and then narrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Quentin raised his hands up. “Look, this wasn’t me. She came to the station and asked to see you.”

Dinah stepped forward, one hand reaching out. “You’ve changed your hair.”

Laurel drew back before she could quite touch the strands. “So have you.”

Dinah let her arm fall. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Would it be alright if your father and I came in?”

Laurel shrugged and stepped back. They followed her into a tiny living room that was separated from the kitchen only by a pillar with a counter branching out of one side of it. There was a couch and little else in the way of furniture. A hallway that barely fit one person held two doors; presumably bedroom and bathroom.

“Well, it’s… it’s efficient,” she remarked with a smile she hoped didn’t look too forced.

“It’s affordable,” Laurel said bluntly. “But I don’t think you’re here to inspect my living conditions, mom. You didn’t care to for the last five years.”

Dinah looked down. “Yes, I know. But I have something to tell you both, and it’s important.”

Both father and daughter had their arms crossed, staring her down. They’d always been so alike. Dinah squared her shoulders and gathered her breath. “I think Sara’s still alive.”

Quentin’s mouth dropped open. “You- how? You’ve heard from her?”

“No, but I believe she survived.”

Laurel didn’t look the least bit convinced. “If Sara survived the shipwreck, Oliver would have said so.”

“He might not know. I’ve done research. There are countless small islands in the North China Sea that she could’ve washed up on and found food, shelter.”

“What makes you so sure she did?” Quentin asked.

Dinah pulled out her trump card. “There’s a photo of an unidentified girl in the same region. Quentin, look at the hat.” She held the photo out to him and watched his expression turn first incredulous and then hopeful. “It’s just like the one you bought Sara.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” he agreed softly.

“Yes, because it’s the official Rockets baseball cap sold in countless stores in the city and the stadium,” Laurel pointed out. They both looked up at her frowning face. “Let’s say Sara did make it off the Gambit alive. How did she hang onto a hat for five years and keep it in that good of condition?”

“There’s no proof that she couldn’t have,” Dinah pointed out, her voice far more feeble than she wanted it.

“Then take it to the authorities or the embassies. I don’t know why you’d bring it to me.” Her daughter turned and made as if to settle on the couch.

“Because this is about our family, Laurel,” Dinah snapped. “I know what Sara did hurt you, but don’t you care?”

Laurel stopped on a dime and spun around. “You’re asking if I care about this family? Our family died the same night Sara did. And not just because of that, but because of everything you didn’t do after.” Dinah flinched, yet Laurel continued right on. “Did you ever ask me how I felt? If I was okay? You just left, mom!”

“Honey, come on,” Quentin tried to intercede, but Laurel gave a sharp shake of the head.

“You’ve been chasing a ghost the last five years while dad and I are right here! I’ve been here this whole time, and you didn’t care. And I’m not saying I’m good enough to make up for losing Sara — but I’m… I’m something, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I have been something to you? Something to stay for?” The anger banked by the time she finished, leaving her daughter’s pleading eyes staring at her.

Dinah was at a loss for words for a long moment. “Please, Laurel, I didn’t mean — you and your father have always been so alike. You had each other. I thought you’d be alright. If I’d known that- that something like this—”

She gestured around the cramped space, and her daughter scoffed.

“Believe me, dad has given plenty of lectures.”

“But he has a point. He says you lost your job because you were protecting this- this Hood. You care about him.”

Laurel’s chin raised in defiance. “I care about the good he’s doing for the city.”

Dinah shook her head. “Sweetheart, please. I know what it’s like to feel you need to do something no matter the consequences. No matter who gets hurt. Even if it’s you. Sara was doing the same thing.”

Laurel stilled, and Quentin looked up from his close examination of the floor. “What do you mean?”

“I—” Dinah stopped herself. Could she really say this? If it helped Laurel in any way, it stood to reason that she owed it to her after all this time. “I saw her the day she left.”

“What?” The question was Quentin’s, hoarse and disbelieving.

Dinah bowed her head again. “I came home early and she was packing. She told me everything, said she was in love when I asked her not to go. I said she shouldn’t do it to you, Laurel,” she added, taking a step towards her daughter, who backed up in equal measure. “But Sara always followed her heart, just like me. You’re not that way, Laurel. You can stop this.”

Quentin sat on the arm of the couch, his head in his hands. He probably couldn’t bare to look at her.

Laurel couldn’t seem to look away, even as her lip trembled and her eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I follow my heart?”

Dinah drew back at the iciness in her tone. Laurel took a step back towards her so there were now inches between them.

“What do you think I was following when I agreed to a date with Oliver even knowing his reputation? When I ignored all the texts he must have been sending to other women? When I took out the lease on my old apartment thinking I’d be sharing it with another person? Did you and Sara forget that I loved him, too, or did it just not matter?”

Dinah backed up until she bumped into some shelving set in the wall, but Laurel wasn’t done. It seemed she’d unwittingly broken a dam holding five years of questions and accusations at bay.

“I follow my heart plenty of other places, too, you know? Like to the bars, to drag my father home since he can’t make it back by himself even while he’s wishing I was the one in the ocean instead of Sara. Or when I did work at CNRI, because God knows I wasn’t following a paycheck!” Laurel breathed in and out once harshly, her hands going up to her temples. To Dinah, it looked like she wanted to scream.

“Laurel, I- I’m sorry. If I’d known…”

Laurel let out a bitter laugh. “Well, how could you, mom? You weren’t here.” She walked away into the kitchen, but stopped and leaned against the counter to look at them both again. “Look, I have a friend working at the Chinese Embassy. I’ll send dad her information, and you can ask for her help with your photo as a favor to me. But the next time you come over, try calling first. Send a postcard, maybe.”

She pushed off the counter and walked to the back door, slamming it behind her and leaving a complete silence and stillness in the room.

Quentin was staring at the floor, whether out of disgust with her or shame over the things Laurel had said about him, Dinah wasn’t sure. Eventually, he cleared his throat.

“Let’s, uh… let’s give her some space. You- you got somewhere to stay?”

Dinah shook her head. Laurel’s old apartment had had a spare room and been in a much safer neighborhood. She wasn’t comfortable staying here even if her eldest had offered, but it seemed the polite young lady they had raised was gone, an angry woman who refused to mince her words in her place.

Her ex guided her out the front door with one hand lightly resting on her elbow, as if afraid to touch her fully.

“Well, we’ll find you something,” Quentin said.

Something turned out to be Quentin’s apartment, where she stayed in the guest room at her own insistence. She could see him swallow back the pain and injured pride.

Dinah couldn’t help fearing that Laurel had been right; their family was broken and finding Sara might not be the easy fix she’d hoped it to be.

---

Laurel paced the small lot behind her home in agitation, heart pounding still. It had been so much of what she’d wanted to say for so long — but what was going to happen now?

She’d only just agreed to try mending fences with her father again. Would he be angry with her for what she’d said? Even if it had been the truth.

And her mother. She’d probably just thrown any chances of reconciliation out the window, but why should it be up to her to make amends with a woman who hadn’t bothered to be in her life for five years? She was only here now because of Sara anyway, and she’d likely be gone the minute she found out one way or the other if Sara was alive. If her sister was really alive, maybe her dad would leave, too. The three of them could get along happily being a family together without her.

Laurel had told Oliver once that she was nobody in Starling City now that she’d lost her job as a lawyer to make trouble. He’d disagreed, but the proof was in her sitting room that she had always been a nobody. To the people that should’ve mattered, anyway.

Laurel had always hoped Sara just hadn’t been thinking about her when she got on the boat. That she’d simply been caught up in the euphoria. But to know that their mother had directly appealed to her however briefly on Laurel’s behalf, and that Sara had just ignored that?

God, she’d defended her sister from bullies in school who’d accused her of trying to steal their boyfriends, only for her sister to turn around and do it to her. And it took two, she knew that. But had Sara even felt a sliver of guilt over it all?

She had so many questions for a sister she would never get the answers from. In some ways, like her mother, she was haunted by ghosts.

“Laurel?”

She looked up and to her left. Anita was standing out on the tiny back patio she and Jerome had, an afghan wrapped around her shoulders.

“Hey. Um, what’s up?”

“Heard some shouting. Was kind of impressed you were managing to have a domestic with only one person.”

Laurel grimaced. “I wasn’t alone. My parents decided to drop by unannounced.”

“Ah, family.” Her neighbor nodded, then gestured her over with an arm. “Feel free to hide out here. We can work on your sewing some more.”

Laurel glanced at her back door once before walking across. “You sure I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Nah, Jerome’s out with some friends. I was meeting some of the Salon girls for drinks later, but Izzy’s son came down with something, and it just sort of fell through. You know, canceling plans feels almost better than making them.”

Laurel nodded. “I was always more of a ‘don’t make any plans in the first place’ kind of girl.”

Anita hummed as she got down two glasses from her kitchen cabinet, then grabbed a bottle of red out of the fridge.

“I found some fabric I thought we could add to the inside of one of your jackets. Make it more fun.” She passed Laurel one glass and set hers and the bottle down before rummaging in her supplies. “See, it’s got flowers!”

Laurel felt herself smile. “Yeah. They look like some kind of hibiscus.” It was hard to tell what kind since they were white lines against a hot pink background, but she was getting better at picking out the shapes at least.

They settled on the floor of the sitting room with their wine and their respective work. Laurel could see why Anita did so much sewing. It sort of demanded a concentration that allowed someone to tune out whatever they didn’t want to think about.

Though, halfway through their cups, Anita did ask, “So, is everything gonna be okay after your fight?”

Laurel sighed. “I guess. It’ll probably just go back to the way it was, unless they miraculously do find Sara — my sister.”

Anita nodded. “The girl on the boat? I remember they talked about her on the news when billionaire boy came back.”

“Yeah. Well, because he came back, my mom’s convinced Sara’s still out there, too, and came to us after five years of no contact asking for our help. I… kind of let her have it.”

“I’d hope so. What, she never even called? Checked in?”

Laurel shook her head before finishing off her drink. She held her glass out and Anita refilled it. “But she had plenty to say about my current situation.”

“They always do.”

“And who is she to come in after all these years and judge? Apparently she just assumed I’d be fine. Well, she didn’t do anything to make sure I would be.”

“Something tells me you haven’t been fine for a long time,” Anita observed, and Laurel paused in her next stitch.

“You know, of all the people in my life, I think you’re the first person who’s ever guessed that.”

“You should’ve got yourself therapy while you still had the insurance coverage, hon.”

Laurel met Anita’s eyes and snorted. Her friend soon started laughing with her. They kept laughing until Laurel’s sides hurt and she started listing to the side a little.

She calmed down with a few deep breaths and said. “Well, it’s too late for that, but this helps.”

“Good.”

They each pulled their work back towards them and began anew.

She stayed later than she’d meant to at Anita’s and between the two of them they finished a bottle of wine. As a result, Laurel woke up later than she intended, groggy and hungry. Opening her fridge made her aware that she’d run out of milk which meant no scrambled eggs, one of the few dishes she was starting to perfect.

It’d be easier to run down and grab a breakfast sandwich from Sammy’s, but it’d be cheaper in the long run to get the milk and be able to make herself breakfast for the next week. With a sigh, Laurel shoved her feet in her shoes and left her apartment.

As Laurel approached the corner store she heard the staccato of a hammer hitting a nail. To her growing confusion, as she walked around, she spotted the shopkeeper nailing boards to the windows on the side.

“Mr. Khan?”

“Ah, Laurel!” The man straightened up and wiped his hands on his apron. He hurried inside and she followed him to the counter as he asked, “What can I get for you?”

“I’m just grabbing some milk. Is everything okay?”

“I hope it will be. That’s all I can do, hope,” he replied with a sigh. “The gangs have been getting worse since all the business with Bertinelli and the Triad. Yesterday, a couple of young men came in here asking for a protection fee.”

“They’re trying to start a racket?” Laurel asked with a frown.

“Seems that way. They tell me I have twenty-four hours to come up with the fee.” He wrung his hands in his apron and smiled ruefully. “I’m barely covering my overhead, and they expect me to have more money.”

“Did you try the police?”

“There’s no evidence of a crime, they said. So they want me to wait for these boys to come and destroy my store.”

Laurel shook her head, disgusted. It was so typical of everything going on. And everything she had resolved to help stop the other night.

She turned away from the counter, thinking it over as she retrieved the milk from the cooler. “Mr. Khan, did they say what time they’d be here?”

“Night. But I’ll be closing early. I do not want anyone hurt. I’m glad you came by today in the daytime.”

“Me too.” She wouldn’t have known anything about it otherwise. Laurel took her change and receipt as he handed them to her, then grabbed the jug as well. “Stay safe, okay?”

“Thank you.”

Laurel quick-marched home. As it stood to her mind, she had three options: try reaching out to her father to see if he could persuade a couple officers to change their beat for the night, call Oliver and hope he was willing to suit up so soon after what happened to Mr. Merlyn, or take care of things herself. Which was what she had decided she was going to do, wasn’t it?

Laurel put the milk away and went back into her room, searching through her closet. What could she use to cover up? Some hats, a couple hoodies, a ski mask from back when she used to accompany Oliver and Tommy to Aspen.

Oliver had made do with a ski mask before. Why couldn’t she do the same?

It wouldn’t be enough to just threaten them into going away. Laurel needed weapons. She had a baseball bat and her fists. Maybe not the best odds, but it was better than nothing. And bringing her own gun would be tantamount to just leaving her ID there for the police to find. If the police even bothered to show up.

The sun sank lower in the sky as Laurel paced her apartment like some kind of caged animal. Could she do it? If she did, was it just proof she’d really lost it?

If she did nothing, Mr. Khan could lose everything. It was that thought that finally pushed her out of her door.

She came around from the side of the store, trying to stay out of the lamplight as she pulled the ski mask down over her face. There was no one out front.

Just as she started to lose her nerve again, she picked up the sounds of laughter and loud talking. Four young men with rocks and bricks came down the street, making no secret of their approach.

If she hesitated, they’d start throwing their projectiles. Laurel drew in a breath, pushed away from the wall, and stepped around the corner. The men gradually slowed to a stop as they caught sight of her.

“Hey.”

They stared at her for a minute or so, a couple sniggers breaking out.

“What’s your deal, lady?” One called out.

“My deal is that you’re attacking an innocent man’s livelihood to extort him for your own gain. That’s a crime at the state level.”

None of them seemed to know what to do with that.

“So what?”

She raised the bat meaningfully. That got loud guffaws of laughter for her trouble.

“Khan too cheap to call the Hood for help?”

“I’m not here for anyone but myself.” Her voice and limbs remained steady, but underneath that her heart was hammering so loudly she didn’t know how they all couldn’t hear it. Was she really going to do this? Assault someone in an act that decidedly couldn’t be called self defense?

A rock was thrown, and Laurel ducked on instinct. It smashed against the wall of the shop, narrowly missing a window. She swore under her breath. This wasn’t about keeping herself safe.

A man walked up to her in a swaggering manner, clearly not taking her seriously. Laurel screwed up her nerves and struck him in the chest with the bat.

He staggered back with a yell. She adjusted her hold on the bat, feeling the pulse of her heart in her ears as she readied herself the meet the others now running towards her.

It was a flurry of swings and kicks, everything she remembered from self defense and everything she’d learned from Ted the past few weeks. Like Sara’s old bullies, these boys didn’t have a refined fighting form; they had strength and size on their side. Laurel couldn’t do much about her height, but she’d gotten plenty stronger since her school days.

She was struck in the back and nearly dropped her bat but managed to keep her grip. Laurel growled in the back of her throat, whirling around and swinging it into her attacker’s gut. He grunted and fell back. 

One of them tried to grab for her ski mask, and she elbowed him in the face. The other two backed up as he fell and she raised the bat again.

“Still think this is worth it?” Laurel asked.

“She’s crazy!”

“Bitch!”

Laurel took great, heaving breaths as she watched them all stagger and run away into the night. The inside of the ski mask was damp with condensation, and her back was starting to throb with a dull pain — but she felt exhilarated.

She’d done it. She’d really done it. Protected this shop all on her own. No one had even had to die.

She held in the impulse to squeal and placed a hand to her back when it gave a particularly painful twinge. She was going to need to stop by Mr. Khan’s tomorrow for some over-the-counter pain meds.

But as far as she was concerned, worth it? Oh, yeah.

---

She didn’t show up the next two days and when she did, it was with a limp she was trying her best to disguise.

“Rough night?” Ted asked as he passed by her at the punching bag. 

Laurel nodded. “Tripped over a curb coming home. Didn’t see it in the dark.”

“Uh-huh.” He kept walking but didn’t really move on.

Ted watched his student with a careful eye. There was something different, alright. A part of him was afraid to look into what it was; a part of him thought he already knew the answer.

And if he did, what could he do about it? He wasn’t the type to call the cops on his students, and anyway if he did what was to stop them thinking he had something to do with it? He’d been let off before, but Ted knew his past wasn’t as distant as he might like.

People got into fights all the time. It didn’t have to mean anything. Even if he could see the gleam in her eye, the spring to her step in spite of the injury. Even if he knew in his heart this wasn’t going to be a one-time occurrence.

But there’d been nothing in the news yet. No reason for him to think anything of it. He’d just have to keep watching and be ready to intervene sooner this time, if she went the same way Isaac did.

God, he hoped not. Because despite his current misgivings, he liked this girl.

---

Oliver kept on with his mission. He had to. Not only was it his father’s dying wish, but if he stopped now people might suspect it had something to do with Mr. Merlyn’s condition. That somehow, he meant something more to the Hood than just a person he hadn’t managed to save from the corruption of this city.

He went back to the list, going tougher on the billionaires and their lackeys that held his city in a chokehold than ever before. 

That meant less time at home. As always, Digg had some objections.

“Don’t you think you should take an early day sometime, Oliver? Check in with your family?”

“Thea and my mother are as fine as they will be,” he replied in the middle of a workout. It was his mother he was trying to avoid more than his sister, truth be told.

“And what about you?”

“I’m fine. I see people. I just had lunch with Laurel the other day.”

“So the one person you’re supposed to be keeping your distance from for appearances sake, you’ve been hanging out with.”

Oliver shrugged helplessly.

“You taking McKenna out anytime soon?”

He shook his head. “We talked over the phone yesterday. Decided to call it quits. She’s busy, I’m…”

“The reason she’s busy,” Diggle finished.

“Yeah, and that was probably a sign it wasn’t going to last.” He gave up on the workout and turned to face his friend. “Look, I know you worry about me, John, but this is how things have to be for now.”

They both looked up at the ceiling at the sound of yelling. It wasn’t totally abnormal for Tommy to raise his voice with the contractors, but he thought he recognized the second voice as well. Oliver sighed.

“It never rains but it pours,” Digg remarked.

“I’ll be right back.” Oliver took the stairs two at a time and slipped into the back of the club. Sure enough, it was his sister he’d been hearing.

“So? I’ve been arrested, Tommy. Does that mean I couldn’t get hired here?”

“No, of course not.”

“So what separates my crimes from his?” Thea demanded. “Is it cause I’m rich enough and connected enough that I got off with community service instead of juvie?”

“No!”

Oliver stepped forward to make his presence known. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Thea whirled around as Tommy gave a put upon sigh. “Speedy here wants me to give one of the troublemakers she calls friends a job at the club.”

“Roy’s not one of my old friends,” Thea said when Oliver raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t do drugs. He just has a bit of a reputation.”

“Yeah, with the police,” Tommy added.

“You try living by yourself in the Glades from childhood and not having a record with the police,” Thea shot back.

“There are programs!” Tommy stated, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “Charities, donation drives, ways for people without means to get what they need. You literally volunteer at a legal aid office for people without money, Thea.”

“And you should see all the people we still don’t help,” Thea remarked while crossing her arms.

“I can see you’re still talking to Laurel,” Tommy returned with a grin that wasn’t the least bit kind.

“So what if I am?”

Oliver cleared his throat. “You know, on the island, I didn’t have any money.” He didn’t miss the way both Thea and Tommy’s eyes widened at the mention of Lian Yu. “And there wasn’t anywhere to pay for anything. You had to just take what you needed.”

“Yeah, well that’s- that’s different, Ollie,” Tommy excused him. “You had to do what you needed to survive.”

“Exactly. No matter where they are, people are going to do what they have to to survive.”

He noticed Thea’s lips curve up in a smile.

“The least we can do is give them a chance to try a better way, Tommy. I’m not saying put him in charge of the register. But if this Roy is serious about wanting honest work, then he can start as a busser.”

“You really mean that, Ollie?” Thea asked.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

She hurried to him and gave him a tight hug, then headed for the door. “Great! Thank you so much. I’m gonna go tell Roy right now!”

Oliver smiled after his sister, then turned to look back at Tommy who seemed far more subdued. “Sorry. I know hiring is your area.”

“Yeah, well, it’s your club,” his friend remarked. He looked up and said. “Which is why I have to resign.”

Oliver reeled back a little in shock. “What?”

“It’s not anything to do with you,” Tommy assured him with a wave of his hand. “Just… Merlyn Global.”

“You’re going to start at the company?” He tried to keep the shock out of his voice. Tommy had never expressed any interest in joining the corporate giant.

But his friend nodded. “With my father in the hospital, I need to start learning more about the company. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me in giving me this job, Ollie. It’s taught me a lot.”

“Well, hopefully it’s taught you enough to get a good start there.”

“You’re not upset?”

“No. I should have realized this was something you needed to do.” He took a couple steps to close the distance between them and reached out to Tommy’s shoulder. “Your dad would be really proud to know you’re continuing his legacy.”

A brief smile flitted across Tommy’s lips. “Let’s hope I actually can.”

They both moved in for a hug. Tommy held on just as tightly as him. Then with a pat on the back apiece, they let go.

“I’ll still see you around,” Tommy promised.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

With that, Oliver was left alone in the club. He walked over to the bar top, where Tommy had clearly been organizing some papers in preparation for him. He’d have to find the time to look through them, and soon.

In some ways, he would sorely miss Tommy’s presence and help around the club. On the other hand, it was hard to be around him right now without the guilt eating away at him. He took the papers into Tommy’s little office at the back and noticed a wilting pot of alstroemerias sitting in the corner.

One thing was for sure. Diggle probably wouldn’t like the fact that yet another person would be in his life less.

[secondgenerationnerd]

Quiet time

Enjoy this Daddy!Damian time

**

A late summer breeze drifts through open windows. Pieces of weapons and clothes pile around the living room. Damian Wayne stretches out on the couch, as he’s known to do on these quiet days, with good book as his only companion.

“’Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day/ Thou art more lovely and more temperate./ Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.--”

A soft grunt interrupts him. He smiles down at the sleeping baby on his chest. She yawns, whimpering as she starts to wake up. 

“It’s ok, baby flower.” He coos, “Your baba has you. Baba’s right here.”

His daughter sneezes, blinking up at him. A soft kiss to her soft, dark curls and he continues to read. “‘And Summer’s lease hath all to short a date/Too hot the eye of heaven shines—“

“Are you really reading Shakespeare to your newborn?” Damian rolls his eyes at Jason’s voice. Of course, his brothers have to ruin his quiet afternoon. He doesn’t even attempt to sit up, too comfortable with the baby where she is.

“And if I am?”

“She can’t understand you yet.” Tim reminds his little brother, all three of the older men coming around the couch. The sight of the youngest Robin, who used to train whenever he had a free moment, relaxing is weird enough. Dick offers a finger to Asha, smiling when the little girl grips it.

“Perhaps, Drake, I read to my daughter,” He smiles a bit, “Because I enjoy reading aloud.”

“Just saying, little engine that could is just as good as sonnets.

“-tt-” Damian clicks his tongue. The door opens as Irey comes into the living room. Water spots litter the collar of her Flash tank top.

“Oh, no.” Irey laughs, drying her long hair with a towel. “You three interrupted cuddle bug time.”

“Cuddle bug time?” Jason raises his eyebrow at her. 

“Yep.” Irey leans over the couch, giving Damian an upside-down kiss. “Baba loves cuddling his Lightning Bug, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

Asha tries to lift her head up at the sound of her mother’s voice, grunting softly. Irey lifts her daughter up, murmuring in Korean. The look Damian gives his girls —that look of total love and adoration and bliss— is something his brothers never thought they’d see.

“You sure you had a kid two weeks ago, Irey?” Jason asks. It’s true. The 19-year-old had already lost what little baby fat she’d gained. Irey laughs as she bounces the baby..

“Speedster genetics. Gotta love them.” Asha sneezes. Irey smiles down at her baby, “Such a sneezy baby, Lightning bug.”

“Is there a reason you three decided to visit?” Damain asks, sitting up.

“What? Can’t we visit our baby brother for no reason?” Jason actually sounds offended at Damian’s question. But there’s that twinkle in his eye.

“-tt- not in this family.”

Dick laughs at that. “Fair enough. We did bring you something. Tim?”

Tim goes out of the room. Damian and Irey exchange a look, neither sure what to expect, especially from his brothers. Then, the soft sound of nails clicking clicking clicking against the wood floors. The door opens and Damian lights up.

“Hey, boy!” Titus runs to his master, Damian crouching down to pet and scratch the Great Dane. Irey smiles. Titus had been so confused when Damian died. Tim had taken him in, just because Titus hated the manor without his young master. “Hey, hey, hey! Look at you. I missed you too.”

The dog licks Damian’s hands and face, sniffing at his clothes. If dogs could frown, Titus did at a new unfamiliar scent in Damian’s clothes. Irey giggles, “I think Titus realized he has competition. Isn’t that right, Lightning Bug?”

“Well, let’s address that.” Damian chuckles. He takes a moment to sit cross-legged on the ground. He reaches up to Irey, who passes Asha to him. Asha stretches in her little body out, still adjusting to this great new world. Titus, understandably, sniffs at the infant. “Titus, this is Asha. Asha, this is Titus.”

Irey melts at the sight of her boyfriend introducing their child to his favorite pet. She looks at the older men, “Thank you, guys.”

“Don’t mention it.” Dick hugs the young hero. “How have you been?”

“Well, I pushed a tiny human out of my vagina two weeks ago. So still a bit sore.”

Jason snorts, “Not sure most would be able to handle having Damian’s kid.”

“How have things with you two?” Dick nods at Damian, still letting the dog sniff the baby.

“They’re good. Talking helps...”

“Are you still talking to Dinah?” Tim asks.

“Yeah. Lots of shit happened in not a lot of time. It’s helping a lot.” Irey crosses her arms over her belly. 

“Irey.” Dick hesitates. “About what happened with Bruce--”

“It’s in the past. What happened happened.” Irey looks at her boyfriend, in a world of his own. Asha gives a little squeak as Titus licks her toes. “Alrighty, Baba, it’s feeding time for Lightning Bug.”

“I can feed her a bottle.” Damian offers.

Irey laughs, “Stop hogging her, Dames. She had one of the bottles earlier. It’s Mama time.”

Damian pouts but gives her Asha. Asha coos softly as Irey hums, settling on the couch. His brothers politely look away as Irey adjusts her top to breastfeed Asha. The young mom laughs softly at the men.

“Oh, bug, your uncles are being silly again. They’re not used to Mama being Mama.” Irey adjusts the baby so she can eat more comfortably. Damian gives Titus another scratch behind the ear before joining Irey on the couch. 

“So, what’s the plan for you two now?” Tim asks, leaning back in his seat.

“Survival. We’ll probably find a new place. Somewhere with two rooms probably.” Irey shrugs. “Right now I’m just happy being here.”

“Selina wants to know when she’s going to meet her grandbaby.” Dick notes. “Something about making up for lost time?”

“Can’t blame her. It’s been hard to travel. And I didn’t want anyone to be with me in the hospital that wasn’t family...” As Irey speaks, Damian frowns. His death has left a painful blackness in his memories. Irey never spoke about delivering Asha. She told him about holding Asha and watching the fireworks with her. But nothing about the birth. A gentle touch to his cheek pulls him from his thoughts. “Babe?”

“I’m ok. Just thinking.” He kisses her fingertips.

“Ok.” Irey smiles at him. 

“Any chance you have a pic of Asha we can take to the girls? They’ve been tied up with a shit ton of cases and will kill us if we don’t get one.” Jason nods at Irey.

“I had a nurse record the birth so I should have one or two for you.”

“You recorded it?” Tim asks.

“It was the only time I’d have a baby. I wanted to have something to remember it.” 

**

Damian stands under the hot water of the shower. It’s one of the few things that drives the chill from his bones lately. The thick scar in the middle of his chest, pale against his dark skin, is the only reminder of his death. Getting out of the shower, he dries off and pulls on his sleep pants. Irey lounges in bed, Titus resting his head on her lap.

“Hey, babe.” Irey smiles as he climbs into the bed with her. He pulls an arm around her waist, kissing her shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“What did you mean earlier? When you said this was the only baby you’d have?”

Irey turns in the bed to look at him. “I mean...Damian...You were dead. I didn’t know you were going to be brought back. All I knew was that the man I love was gone and I was having his baby.”

“You wouldn’t have dated?” 

“I dunno.” She traces the stubble on his jaw. “I don’t think that I could ever open my heart to anyone again. Not the way I did with you. I just...I had Asha. I’d like to believe that she’d be enough for me...”

“Nuri...” Damian isn’t sure what to say. He touches the stretch marks on her belly, her reminder of the past four months. Proof of their child, the daughter she carried and brought into this world. Damian’s throat tightens. He never got to see her carry Asha. Never got to touch her belly, feel the baby they made move and kick. She’d been alone giving birth. He should have been there. Should have been there to hold her hand during the contractions, wipe the sweat from her face, telling her how strong she is. He didn’t get to see his daughter come into the world. 

“Hey...hey...” Irey’s soft voice pulls him back. “It’s ok, babe...There’s nothing you could have done.”

“I should have been there with you.”

“You’re here now. That’s all I care about.”

Before he can ask her anything, they hear Asha crying over the baby monitor. Damian kisses Irey gently, “I’ve got her, beloved.”

“Ok.” Damian gets out of bed and crossing the room. Jai, Colin, and Jon had spent the time Irey was in the hospital turning her closet into a tiny nursery for Asha. The soft white walls glow from the nightlight. Asha cries in the crib, struggling against her swaddle. Damian gently untangles the baby. He lifts her up, cradling her like she’s made of glass.

“It’s alright, baby flower. I’ve got you. Your baba has you.” He coos to her. After changing her diaper and feeding her one of the bottles of ready to eat formula, he sits with her in her rocking chair. Asha gives a small yawn and nuzzles her face into her father’s chest. Damian blinks a few tears from his eyes.

He doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t deserve Irey. So many sins weight his soul down, yet this tiny child, innocent and pure, she’s his. He will get to raise her with a woman who loves him so deeply that he’ll never understand. What did he do to deserve this?

“Asha? Baba loves you. I love you so, so much.” He slips a finger into her tiny hand. Asha reflexively grips it, but he pretends she’s holding it because she wants to. “I hope you grow up knowing how much Mama and I adore you. I hope you grow up happy.”

Irey smiles to herself, listening to Damian over the baby monitor. He’s such a good father. Irey glances at a text from her father, waiting for Damian to join her.

That’s when she hears Damian’s shout of surprise and a crash. Irey’s out of bed in an instant racing to her daughter’s room. She catches sight of Asha in her crib, Damian laying face up with something dark on his chest.

Then everything goes dark.

[benbarnesescape]

Part 5: Co-Ed Problems

AU!Frat Billy Russo x Reader 

Warning:Language 

_____

“You work fast.”

Curtis’ voice cuts through Columbia's quad area, loud enough to garner Billy's attention as he pulls his head phones free, watching the tall African American man take a seat across from him. Curtis has a shit eating grin on his face, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Three days and somehow it had spread like wildfire.

Billy groans as he asks,

“Who told you?”

“Karen.”

“Karen?” Billy frowns and Curtis chuckles,

“She’s a mutual friend of ours. Knows Y/N pretty well and we have a business class together. She couldn’t wait to gush how smitten Y/N was a few days back.”

That knowledge makes Billy’s stomach flop. The fact of the matter was, so was he. He had been disappointed when he had woken up alone. He had thought that despite your jesting between sessions that you were into him.

He had hoped for one more round before treating you to breakfast and seeing where the morning took you. .

“Yeah. She also is betting that you don’t realize that Y/N left her number on your desk for a whole other week.” Curtis takes a sip of his coffee and Billy looks at him dumbfoundedly.

You left your number?

Curtis spits out his coffee, laughs.

“Of course you didn’t realize she left her number on your desk. Lucky for you to have a friend like me. You could’ve seriously fucked up your chances.”

Billy falls back in his seat, throws both his hands behind his head,

“You didn’t tell me that she grew up.”

Curtis rolls his eyes,

“Because I’m responsible for telling you about the process of puberty?”

Billy snorts, grabs for his water bottle and takes a swig,

“You know what I mean. She’s….you didn’t tell me she was fucking sexy. And like confident and smart and…..”

“Oh god...listen I told you Y/N was awesome.” Curtis cuts him off. “She’s always been awesome. You were the one all hung up in your feelings not to realize.” Curtis laughs and Billy shrugs.

“Okay whatever.” He waits a beat, “Who else knows?”

Curtis raises a brow and Billy shakes her head.

“Listen we aren’t in the most chivalrous of fraternities and I don’t want her name getting pulled through the mud. She’s different.”

Curtis snorts,

“You’re group of boys up in Maryland may have been absolute dogs but that's not how we roll in New York.”

Billy rolls his eyes,

“People still talk.”

Curtis shrugs,

“Fair. if Karen knows than for sure Frank, Dinah….David though I doubt he would care. Sarah probs because Dinah, Y/N, Karen and her are pretty tight. Oh and she’s fucking David.”

“A small group of people.” Billy laughs and Curtis smiles, shaking his head,

“It's all good. The people that matter know. Just call her. She’s typically pretty busy but I could see her making time for you. She’s always had a thing for you…”

Billy smiles, nodding as he returns his eyes back to his book.

He knew that much to be true.

Dinah Madani was pissed at you.

Not pissed like she was when she found out you got into more Ivy League schools than her. Not pissed like when she thought you were going to move in with Karen and Sarah instead of her.

Pissed on a whole other level.

She doesn’t come home the first night. Texts you to let you know she’s staying with her parents for a few days. You try to let it slide, throw yourself into the play that your co-starring, the few papers you need to wrap up for classes.

Still makes you uneasy the third day when you’re welcomed by a dark, untouched apartment as you shuffle into your tight home.

The problem was of course both your pride. You had apologized - the once - and she had accused you of being selfish. Of not realizing the stress you had put her through.

You weren’t sure if it was the fact you went AWOL for a night or the fact that you had fucked Billy before she did. Karen had showed her a picture of him and though Dinah had acted like she wasn’t impressed, you knew she was.

Great.

Day four you’re neck deep in long physics equations for your astronomy course, trying to distract the anxious feeling in your gut. Not only was Dinah effectively ignoring you, but Billy hasn't texted you since you left. You didn’t want to feel insecure about it, disappointed, sad but you were.

You had scheduled time in later that evening to cry it out, all the tension that was building up in you.

For now, you allowed yourself to sit in the dusty stacks of the old library, cursing whoever had created over complicated equations to explain black holes.

“Can I join you?”

Its her sharp, knowing voice that cuts through your brains thoughts, causing you to peer up into chocolate eyes that mirror your own. She has that knowing, cocky smirk on her lips and you wave a hand across from you, clearing out books so she could camp down.

“Bought dinner. Pizza from Zollis.”

You give her a grateful smile as she sighs, falls into her seat. She looks over at you, before shaking her head.

“Listen. I’m sorry. My big fucking ego got in the way and…..I’m not happy to admit it but alas here we are.”

“No,” you sigh as you throw your pen down on the table. “My big fucking ego got in the way. No, actually it was Billys big fucking cock and my ego became a slave to it.

I got dicked down dumb.”

Dinah snorts before she erupts into laughter and shakes her head,

“Well I accept your apology.”

“Good. because I accept yours.”

She smiles as she tugs on the pizza box, dragging it in front of the both of you. She hesitates, looks at you,

“Okay you know I hate….being wrong and admitting stuff that makes me vulnerable.”

You nod as you pop open the box, salivating at the pizza. You’d been chowing down on tuna and butter noodles for two days now - this was welcomed relief.

“I just….Billy got hot. And like you’re hot and like I’m hot but I just...I don’t know. I got weirded out because I was jealous you fucked him. You know. He’s hot. I’ve been staring at pictures on his Facebook and Instagram for days. I hate myself.”

She pouts and you look up at her, a mouth full of pizza before you start laughing,

“I knew it!”

“What!”

“Not that you ever liked Billy. That you were mad I fucked a hot guy before you. You’re the one who gets the hot guys. I get….guys like Gunner. God why does Gunner have a hard on for me?”

“Because all weird hipster theater dudes do. But also that's not true. You date hot guys you just don’t get all wrapped in them. I could tell the minute I saw you that you were all tied in the thought of you and Billy.”

You sigh as you cross your legs, bite into more of your pizza.

“Yeah but for what that's worth I don’t think anything will come from it.”

“What’d you mean?”

“He hasn’t texted me.”

“....so?”

“So I thought he would reach out”

Dinah frowns.

“DM? FB Message? Snapchat?”

You sigh,

“You know I don’t go by my real name on there. Not after I starred in Little Shop of Horrors and that guy stalked me and I had to make all my accounts private. I’m not the easiest to find.”

Dinah nods her head, shrugs.

“I don’t bite he’s not into you. Billy was all about you growing up. And like you were cute back then….a little awkward but cute,” you scoff as she continues, “but you’re hot now. And funny. And great…..”

She huffs out a breath, before her lips break into a smile,

“Unless…..”

“Unless?” you ask and she gives a nonchalant shrug, biting into another piece of her pizza.

“No.”

“C’mon. It’s the end of the school year - lets celebrate.”

“No!”

“Frank invited us when I ran into him two days ago. Said that him, and Curtis, AND BILLY, would love to have us.”

“This feels like a set up.”

“Because it is. But like come on. Give it a chance. Just one chance.”

You were far too forgiving.

It was what had you holed up in a corner of the old factory building, co-eds of all shades, sizes and years dancing in drinking in rhythm. Summer was a taste away, so close to so many young people and you were just part of a group who were watching on with curiosity.

“Lighten up.” Dinah says, walking back with two red solo cups and you sigh. You can’t. You really want to but you’re anxious. You should be out monitoring the night sky, or inside studying or sleeping.

Not standing in a corner hoping Billy would notice you.

“There they are!”

David’s voice is loud over the music as he scurries through the crowd, his dirty blonde locks slicked back as he tugs on Sarah who’s on his heels. He’s proudly wearing his fraternity letters, a large smile on his lips as he bends down and hugs you deeply, Dinah.

He also smelled like he smoked enough pot to shoot them back in time.

“Didn’t think you’d show but ohhh am I glad you did.” Sarah kids as she hugs you and Dinah and you sigh, shake your head.

“What are you talking about?”

“Billy’s been in a mood all week. I mean, I thought it was funny at first you ghosting him but now his mood is getting old..”

You roll your eyes as Dinah smirks, takes a sip of her drink.

“He hasn’t texted me.” You say evenly.

“That’s what he’s telling everyone. That you're standing him up.” Sarah wiggles her brows and David comes behind her, kissing her neck before resting his head on her shoulder,

“Doesn't matter. Lets drink. Party. Smoke. We’re all going to be fucking seniors next year...free!”

You laugh as Sarah sighs, presses her lips against his own. You never understood their dynamic - Sarah was fun, light and free, David more awkward and intellectual but together they worked.

You look over at Dinah, who is making flirty eyes with someone across the room and mutter,

“I’m going to get another drink. This piss beer isn’t cutting it.”

“Cool. Don’t wander too far.”

You nod as you move your way through the crowd, ignoring the way groups of men stare you down. You were going to give this party five more minutes before you dipped, your heart not in it.

Sarah bringing up Billy wasn’t helping.

You find the makeshift bar, take a look at your poisons. Vodka, gin, tequila, whiskey. You sigh, opting for the gin, pouring a hearty amount along with the tonic soda that's left over. A splash but a splash enough to get you further into the night.

You take a long sip, breathing relief.

Okay, maybe ten more minutes….

_____

Tag List:

@ rockintensse @missphanosaur18 s @ninjathrowingstork@charlieimaginesstuff @ benbarnesfanforever @ladyblablabla @deerprongs@ugh-my-back @padfootagain @aylinnmaslow  @ marauderskeeper@caitlyn-blackwell  @princessderavenclaw @starlesskyox @thesandbeneathmytoes @ marauderskeeper @ youveseen–thebutcher@xgminigypsy@iheartbinbons @just-nikkii @katbernoulli @suchatinyinfinity @aikeia

[themusicplayedherlife]

I Know What You Did

pairings: Bruce Wayne x Reader

characters: Reader, Bruce Wayne, Dinah Laurel Lance, Diana Prince

word count: 1428

warnings: simple injury, implied sexual content (like a line or two), but just fluff, like dumb amount of fluff

a/n: @forevans and i did another fic trade/challenge and this time i got bruce wayne and the prompts: [text] I know what you did last summer… + “On a scale from, ’I can sometimes make important phone calls without crying’ to ’I have a stable job with a steady income, a spouse who loves me, a dog, and two kids who are screwed up minimally at worst’, how much of an adult are you?”

forevans prompt w/ chris evans: counting our time in dog years

Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised that after keeping what you did a secret from him, that it would come up sooner or later, especially when he enjoys the extracurricular on his off time. To your defense, he had waited a whole fucking year to bring it up and you had allowed yourself to fall into false security.

A rookie mistake.

Batty Bat 🦇: I know what you did last summer.

Batty Bat 🦇: I wasn’t going to mention it because I thought there was no reason to, but you’re doing it again, aren’t you?

Y/N ❤: Doing what? Having fun? Cause I am having fun!

Batty Bat 🦇: I can teach you better than those instructors, you know?

You look over at your companions and send them a glare that they disregard with a smile—traitors must have let it slip somehow.

Batty Bat 🦇: I’d be helping you every step of the way. My hands guiding you, pushing you.

Batty Bat 🦇: Don’t you want that?

You feel the ghost of Bruce’s hands on your hips, caressing and teasing as they draw closer and closer to your aching—no! No. No. No! He’s playing you! Trying to psych you out and you won’t let him!

Swatting away the thought, you send him one last text and hand your phone over to Diana to start strapping yourself into the harness.

Y/N ❤ : What are you talking about, babe ?????

“Why don’t you come clean?” Laurel asks, crossing her toned arms over her chest.

“Because,” you start, grunting when you tighten the harness properly like you were taught last year, “he’ll know how much it bothers me that I can’t beat him.”

“I think he knows that already,” Laurel teases.

“I think it’s admirable that you want to better yourself,” Diana says with a smile as you make your way over to the wall with colorful handles. “But I wish you’d be doing it for yourself.”

You think back on the day Bruce first took you climbing and how horrible you were at it, and how he had found it cute that you couldn’t pull yourself up. That ass! He’s the superhero or vigilante or whatever! You’re just a regular old office worker that happens to occasionally help him and his team with their activities when you have time, and only if a computer is involved.

“I am!” You answer back, carefully placing one foot on the handle and then gripping another, pulling yourself up. “If I get better, then I beat Bruce at something for once and that—that would make me happy.”

Laurel laughs. “I just don’t understand why you only practice during the summer. If you had kept up training all of last year, this year you could’ve most likely been able to keep up with Bruce, maybe even go rope free.”

You keep yourself concentrated on the handles, only making sure to grab onto the ones that you know are sturdy enough to hold your weight, but it doesn’t stop you from answering her. “If it’s not Wayne Enterprises taking up my time, it’s the Wayne Foundation. At least during the summer I can take a couple of days off and force Bruce and Lucius to cover for me—” you squeak, losing your footing for a moment. Regaining your balance with the cheers of your friends, you let out a relieved sigh.

But your relief is short lived, another misplace and slippery hand has you pushing away from the wall and, while for a moment you might think you’re safe because of your harness, you’re coming loose from the only hold you had. Before Diana can catch you or any of the instructors can rush over and help you, you’ve already landed on the padded floor, and on your wrist.

“Are you all right?” Diana asks as soon as you sit up with a wince, checking you for injuries.

You try waving her away, but a burning pain prevents you from making any sudden movements. “I think I sprained my wrist.”

Laurel and Diana both share a look, staring at eachother for what seems like forever until Laurel backs away with a sigh. “I’ll call Bruce.”

“Did you not fasten the harness?” Diana scolds you, helping you up. She tells an attendant to call for a car, and they rush to the front to do so.

You cradle your injured hand to your chest. ”I thought I did. Guess not.” Giving Diana a cheeky smile, you say, “At least, I didn’t fall on my head, right?”

She rolls her eyes.

You’re putting on your jacket when you hear footsteps rushing into your room. Thinking it’s Diana or Laurel, you turn ready to chastise them for running, only to come short when you see it’s not either of them, but Bruce looking disheveled in a plain button up and jeans.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him, completely surprised to see him here of all places. Isn’t he supposed to be at the fundraiser you had scheduled months ago?

He takes long strides to reach your bed in record time. His dark, blue eyes aren’t on you, but on your arm that’s been wrapped up and bandaged. “You didn’t get hurt anywhere else?”

“No, I—“

“Are you sure? Did they look you over properly—“

“Bruce—“

“I can have them transfer you to a better—“

“Bruce!” He snaps his gaze away from your arm and to your face, you reach for him with your good hand and he leans down close enough for you to caress his jaw. “I’m okay, babe. I promise. In fact, I can go as soon as the nurses come back with the discharge papers.”

He sighs and leans into your touch, trapping your hand between his jaw and his larger hand, but a smile breaks through his worried expression—his radiant smile full of love and adoration that is only reserved for you in your moments of privacy. “On a scale from, ’I can sometimes make important phone calls without crying’ to ’I have a stable job with a steady income, a spouse who loves me, a dog, and two kids who are screwed up minimally at worst’, how much of an adult are you? Really?”

You know he’s only teasing, and so you let out a scandalizes gasp and twist your hand free from his hold. “Excuse you?”

He lets your hand go, but not without an affectionate squeeze. “Trying to one up me? Really?”

“Hey! It’s just not fair that you’re good at everything, Bruce. I mean look at you, Jesus,” you say, rubbing your free hand all over his well toned stomach and trail a finger up to his chest where he once again traps your hand over his heart. “Good looking, athletic, rich, and smart? Not to mention kind, generous, charismatic and brooding all in one? How is that even possible ?”

He chuckles and presses his lips to your forehead. “Only you get to see all those sides of me.”

You quirk an eyebrow and wiggle your ring finger in his hold. “I would hope so, I didn’t say yes just for you to shut me out.”

“Never,” he says, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “Now, as soon as you heal, no more sneaking off to rock climb in secret. We’re doing it together next time. Deal?”

You pretend to think about it before sending him a small smile. “Deal.”

After being discharged and saying goodbye to Diana and Laurel, who have decided to stay to enjoy the perks of a fully funded trip, you and Bruce get in a car that’ll take you home.

“How did you get here anyway?” His expression morphs into that of him wearing his dark knight mask—stoic and you know he’s hiding something. Except, what would he be—your eyes widen. “Oh my god. You followed me didn’t you? That's how you knew what I was doing last summer, isn’t it? You followed me last year too!” And here you thought he was taking care of the company! Who’s the responsible adult now?

“I didn’t mean to. The boys wanted to go on a trip and I thought coming here would be fun. You never even told me where you were going, so I was just as surprised as you when I saw you at the gym, and in the climbing area no less. Figured you were trying to keep it a secret.

You groan, throwing your head back. “I’m calling off our wedding.”

He chuckles and kisses you softly, gently. “I love you too.”

[batfamily-trash]

Missing You

Summary; you are/were Damian’s girlfriend and you have powers. You can fly and you also have the canary cry. You are not affiliated with Superman, Wonder Woman, or Black Canary.

Warning: Death, angst???,  language

y/n l/n. The A+ student of Gotham Academy. s/h/n. The girl that could fly. Juggling your superhero life and your normal life was a tad bit complicated. Why? Well, you were Damian Wayne’s girlfriend and the press LOVED to be all up in your face. Asking questions about your private life and what not. Damian hated it, but you were okay with it as long as they didn’t ask anything that would set him off. Which was almost impossible. But you know, you can fly away from your problems.

But, today it was Damian who set you off. He had invited you to a gala his father was hosting and it was marvelous. Chandeliers were glistening, the room was adorned with flowers from the garden, everything was just amazing. You and Damian were dancing to the music and enjoying the moment. When the song ended, Damian was pulled away by his brothers, and you were pulled away for a moment by Diana Prince and Dinah Lance. They knew about your powers and they wanted to help you train more. Basically, they wanted you to be their sidekick. But you were content being in Gotham with the Bat and his Batlings.

You declined their offer and began to look for your beloved boyfriend. Five minutes later you found him all right. You found him with your ‘friends’ all up in his face with their hands wandering around his body, and he didn’t do anything about it. He seemed to… enjoy it. Then out of nowhere your so called best friend kissed him. You took a step towards them but decided against it. You ran out of the building as tears began to build up in your eyes. Things that you have never thought before began to cross your mind now. Has he been cheating on you all this time? Was he with you just because you were useful in the battlefield? Was he just using you?

You heard Damian shouting your name as you ran further away from the gala. A moment later he caught up with you. He grabbed your elbow and pulled you towards him. “y/n, stop.”

“Why Damian? Why should I stop?” you asked while struggling to get out of his grasp.

“Beloved…”

“Don’t you beloved me!” you shouted. “Why would you cheat on me?!?”

“Y/n I… I wasn’t cheating…”

“Oh so if I go kiss Jon while dating you it wouldn’t be considered cheating?!?! You kissed my best friend!”

“Fine, you want to know why. It wasn’t working out with us,” he said abruptly letting you go. “The only reason why I was dating you was because you were of good use to me, nothing more!”

You took a step back, and let his words sink in. You wiped away the tears raining down from your face and fixed your dress. “Fine, we are over. Tell Bruce I’m out.” With that, you flew away from him and the gala.

10 years passed since you last talked to Damian with feeling. Now, every time you would talk to him, your voice would be empty of emotion. If you could you would avoid the living the hell out of him, but you were an important business woman in Gotham. Your company would help Wayne Tech come up with new ideas for technology.

It still hurt seeing Damian, but what hurt, even more, was that he had tried to apologize more than once, but you just couldn’t accept it. The feelings you still had for Damian were still alive and killing you, slowly. You missed him, and you were going to set things right.

You had a… friend who loved messing around with the timeline just to piss off people and when you told them that you wanted to go back and warn your younger self about your relationship with Damian, they agreed. They only agreed because you were annoying them. And because they hated seeing you suffer, but mostly because you were annoying to them.

They took you took you back two weeks before the gala. So exactly 10 years and two weeks. Your dear time traveling friend forgot to tell you WHERE in between those two weeks they were ditching you. They dropped you off in your old bedroom, at midnight, exactly the time you would either be arriving from patrol or leaving for patrol. So when you realized you were in your old room, you were fighting your younger self.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?!?” Mini you shouted at you.

“Maybe if you stop throwing cheap batarangs and books at me I’ll tell you!”

Mini you stopped throwing things but stayed in a fighting stance, waiting for the reason why you were in ‘her’ room. You fixed your clothes and picked up a picture that had ‘fallen’ and studied it before tossing it to mini you. “I… Batman sent me.”

“Batman sent you?”

“Uh yeah, Robin had something to do and he wouldn’t be able to join you during patrol.”

Mini you glared at you and turned on her heel and stomped towards the window. “I don’t trust you, but since I do need help I won’t complain.

”Oh thank god,” you mumbled to yourself.“

What was that?”

“Nothing lets go.” You followed yourself out of the room and flew behind her to a warehouse. You remembered that mission. Bruce had sent you to investigate an arms deal that was happening. You almost died there.

You and uh, you, landed by a window and peered into the warehouse. There were about twenty armed men and about 40 billion dollars worth of guns and ammo all over the place.

“I was thinking we sneak in, Mariah Carey they’re asses and call the cops,” younger you said with confidence.

“What do mean by Mariah Carey?”

“Canary Cry.”

“Okay… but wouldn’t it be more like Brendon Urie?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Mini you said rolling her eyes. The both of you took a step back and prepared to bust in. Since you didn’t tell mini you that you were her from the future you covered your ears to not blow your cover. A minute later glass exploded everywhere and the both of you flew into the warehouse dodging bullets.

The both of you managed to take down the majority of the henchmen. You turned around looking for mini you when you noticed that Rusty, the arms dealer for the Penguin, was aiming at her. Just as he pulled the trigger you flew towards her and pushed her out of the way.

Back home, your ‘friend’ had told Damian of your little adventure. He didn’t take it well. Oh no, he actually threatened and paid your friend to take him to the same time period you were in right now. But by the time he arrived, it was too late.

You felt the bullet pierce your stomach just as you got y/n to move. You let out a last canary cry at Rusty making him drop his weapon and crouch in pain as he flew towards the wall. y/n shouted at you as you fell to the ground. She moved you onto your back and covered the bullet wound as she yelled at your stupidness.

“Why?!?!”

“Because… I had to… If you died… there wouldn’t be a future… for me… just go… live your life… I… i’ll be fine…”

y/n stood up and looked down at you with tears in her eyes. You gave her a small smile as you covered the bullet wound with your own hand. You saw as she left to finish the mission, you also saw a bright flash coming from in front of you.

“Dami…” You whispered as your eyes closed and you fell into a deep sleep.

–

Damian stepped out of the portal into the warehouse. He looked around for you, hoping to stop you from whatever you were going to do. The minute he found you, he broke down crying. “No, no no no no, beloved I’m sorry, I’m sorry I let them all over me. I’m sorry for not really telling you how I felt…. I’m sorry….”

Two weeks later…

A tall dark figure stands in the corner of a room admiring a picture. A young Damian Wayne enters the room with Titus and Ace in tow. Damian glances up from his phone and immediately gets in a fighting pose. “Who are you?” he hissed.

The figure puts the picture down and stands in front of the boy. “You tell me.”

Damian let his fighting stance down as his loyal dogs walked up to the stranger and playfully pawed at him.

“Why are you here?”

“To advise you to not let y/n’s so-called friends near you.”

“Why?”

“Because it just might be the biggest regret you’ll ever make.” And with that, a portal opened as the figure walked into the shadows. Damian stood in his room dumbfounded by this encounter as the portal closed.

Back to the future….

Damian woke up in his room in Wayne Manor with a slight headache. He got off the bed and began to look for you. When he couldn’t find you, disappointment began to fill his head. Did he fail? Did he still let you go?

His thought were interrupted when he heard the front door open. He ran down the stairs as he heard your sweet voice. “I’m so sorry Dami, I was getting groceries right after I dropped off the kids from school and my phone died—“

You were cut off by a very passionate kiss, and a crying Damian. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

I was gone only for an hour… You brushed it off and dropped the bags and hugged him back. “It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere…”

[ninzied]

another kind of goodbye

for @carry-the-sky. happy birthday, my friend! have a little post-cancellation kastle fic.

It’s three months, give or take, when Frank lets himself think about her again. Really think about her. Not in the passing kind of way, where he’s walking down some street and sees a bouquet of gardenias, like the kind he’d almost gotten her instead of the roses that day. Or when he’s sipping on coffee, and Karen’s face flashes like a mirage at him across the cheap Formica table – blonde hair almost white under the shit diner lighting, but those eyes still so blue as she told him he would never lie to her.

So – okay, so he thinks about her. He thinks about her.

(He wonders if she—)

Frank eventually makes his way back to the city again, after. Another day, another job. Madani thinks he’s meant for something greater than this – than picking off these scum-of-the-earth kinds of assholes that litter the streets of a place like New York.

He can’t believe that he was meant for greater, but. Sometimes, he does wonder. If a part of him – whatever part of him that’s not still buried deep down in the ground with his family – was meant to come back here. To walk these streets and feel the pull of her, always, even when that’s all he can afford to feel.

He tells himself that has to be enough.

He’s been laying low, since his return. Coughed up some cash for a three-hundred-square-footer in Brooklyn, but he crosses the bridge to the city most days, maybe even finds his way to Hell’s Kitchen from time to time too. It’s risky, he knows. If Murdock catches wind of him, they’d be lucky to walk away from each other in one piece. And Karen…

There’d be a different kind of hell to pay, if Karen ever found out.

His phone gives a single buzz in his pocket as he’s hunkering his way down 47th, and he stops in his tracks, nearly colliding with an elderly woman in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Excuse me!” she says in a shrill voice, bag clutched tight to her chest.

“Apologies, ma’am,” he nods as she makes a show of putting as much distance between them as possible, and then he fishes his phone out, hesitating for one absurd moment before glancing down at the screen.

Back in town yet, Castle?

He barks out a laugh. Chrissakes, Madani.

His phone buzzes again.

I have a job for you, if you’re still interested.

“Still,” mutters Frank, with a scoffing shake of his head. He thinks he admires her perseverance, but Madani’s gotta know she’s only wasting her breath.

He cuts south down 10th, toward Lincoln Tunnel. It’s a brisk day, and the wind on his face feels sharper than usual, considering he hasn’t bled much there in a while. He jams his hands deeper into his pockets, ignoring the insistent drone of Madani’s follow-up call.

He’s got a date with a park bench on the wrong side of town, and if he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s the same bridge overlooking the water, and when he opens them again Karen’ll be there, waiting for him.

…

His closest call comes with, of all people, the lawyer. Not Red – the other one. Franklin Nelson.

Frank’s emerging with coffee two storefronts down just as another door opens, and he’s cursing himself for not seeing the signs when out tumbles Nelson with his back turned, adjusting his tie against the wind.

“Foggy bear, wait!” someone else is laughing, and a blonde lady steps out to chase after him, slinging a purse over her shoulder and reaching with her other hand to link around his elbow.

“I told him this was gonna make me late for work,” grumbles Nelson, but without any heat to the words. “Dad’s surprise party isn’t until tomorrow, don’t know why this couldn’t have waited – oh, crap, I forgot I told Karen I’d pick up some coffee—”

Nelson’s about-facing sharply, girlfriend following closely behind. He doesn’t appear to notice Frank crouched down in a corner by the 7-Eleven, hood obscuring half his face as he trains his eyes on the ground by their feet. The girl unearths some coins from her bag as they pass, clinking them onto the lid of Frank’s coffee cup without seeming to hear his low mutter of thanks.

He’s leapt up the moment he hears the door latch shut, brushing the coins into his palm as he goes.

He leaves them with a guy camped out by the train stop, a dog lifting her head from their blankets to blink sleepy eyes up at Frank, and he walks away harder, takes the steps two at a time and wishes – God he wishes—

…

Another text from Madani.

He shuts his phone off. Goes back to retrieve it ten seconds later from the trash can that he’d dumped it in, wiping it down and scowling as her message pops up on the screen.

Castle – offer still stands, FYI.

“You should call her back,” advises a man huddled down by the newsstands next to him. His face is like leather, worn down and weathered with age, with living. “Apologize for whatever it is that you did, so you don’t end up out here like me.”

“Already there,” Frank tells him, turning the phone over and over in his hand. Madani’s message lights up again each time, flashing and flashing until he sees it like a burn through his retinas even when the phone’s no longer facing him.

“Damn. That’s a damn shame.” The guy shifts, scratching at a spot on his back. “Maybe shouldn’t’ve stayed away from her for so long.”

Frank shakes his head, uttering a short, incredulous laugh. “Well, maybe I got my reasons, yeah? You think about that?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” shrugs the guy. “Does she think they’re any good? These reasons of yours?”

Frank turns away, jaw working furiously.

“Yeah.” The guy shouldn’t have any right to sound as smug as he does, and yet. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

…

He’s got no place in coming here. He knows it. He knows it, but he thinks it was always meant to be this way, him circling back around to her, even after everything that he’s done to push her away. Maybe a part of him had never left. And the rest is just – there, hovering right at the edge of some sharp realization, that he could try to be whole again if he simply took that first step. And a part of Karen must at least sense that. It’s why she’d never really given up on him, before.

It doesn’t change how I feel about you.

Frank wonders if she’d forgive him this time. If he’d even want her to.

It wouldn’t be anything close to what he deserves, that’s for goddamn sure.

He gazes up at her fire escape, counts the number of steps it would take just to be able to reach that bottom rung from his vantage point across the street. Her shades are drawn, the lines of them blurred out in the dim orange light. On one corner of the windowsill, wedged up against the glass, there’s a small stack of books. On the other, a vase. From this angle, the shadows folded into the fabric of her curtains look almost like flower stems.

Frank squints, and the stems disappear.

…

There’s about a week in between, where he feels himself inching closer to something, each time he drops by her block. He never goes farther than the patch of sidewalk across from her building, but it’s getting harder not to just careen over the ledge.

More than anything, he wishes he knew, in those moments obscured in half-darkness, whether he’s come to look for that after she’d spoke of, or if he’s come to say goodbye.

Then, one day he spots flowers in her window, for the first time since—

(They’re pale white against the cream of her curtains, their stems dark slivers of green, and he imagines them pricking the pad of his thumb, drawing up a spot of blood.)

Frank takes a deep breath.

…

She doesn’t look surprised to see him when she opens the door, swinging it back two-thirds of the way before stopping. Her lips are pressed tightly together, like there’s too much to say, or maybe there’s things that she can’t, either way he can’t read her and he thinks she’s never terrified him more.

Frank drops his gaze, mouth moving soundlessly until the words grind their way out. “How’d you know I was here, Karen?”

He’s not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting. That Nelson had grown a real pair of eyes, or that Red had managed to ferret him out of his lurking somehow. Or maybe Karen really just hadn’t known at all, and those flowers were never for him.

What Karen says instead is, “Dinah and I grab a beer together, sometimes.”

“That right?” he asks, trying to lay out an image of this in his mind. It sits strangely there, stumping him for a moment, and some of his bewilderment must show on his face because Karen’s mouth almost turns up in a smile before flattening again.

She leans away from the doorjamb, waving her hand in a worn-looking gesture before letting it drop to her side. “Besides, you…haven’t exactly been subtle, in your haunting of Hell’s Kitchen.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, other than a gruff, “’S’what dead men do, Karen,” as she folds her arms and sighs at him.

“You sure you’re not just losing your touch, Frank?” She steps into the doorway, whether to move closer to him or to block him out of her apartment, he can’t tell. “Or was it because you wanted me to know but couldn’t tell me to my face?”

His eyes snap up to hers, twitching slightly under the sharp weight of her gaze. He shakes his head, wishing he could just ask her, What do you want from me, Karen? but they’re long past that now, and if he can’t find his own way to answer her, then.

God, he really doesn’t deserve this woman.

“I think I—” He shifts his body and tries again. “I think I needed to figure some things out. Karen. I was waiting 'til I felt like I was ready, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that.” But I’m here, he wants to say, but I’m here.

“Yeah.” Karen’s nodding, hair falling into her face, and she brushes it back, resting her chin in her palm for a moment. “I know that, Frank.” All of the fight in her seems to have ebbed slowly back, and he resists the urge to reach out and shake the storm back into motion, to make her understand she doesn’t get to let him off the hook so easy.

The look she gives him now is softer, but he knows. Fight’s not done. May never be done. And he knows this because he knows he’ll never stop fighting for her.

She’s stepped back into the door, letting it swing open further. She doesn’t invite him in, but she’s quirked an eyebrow up at him, biting her lip with another deep sigh and a shake of her head.

“You, uh.” Frank glances back and forth at their surroundings, doesn’t quite meet her eye. Tries to lighten his tone through the gruffness as he asks her, “So, you wanted to see me?”

Her voice is soft, forbearing, with a hint of gentle knowing behind it. “You didn’t?”

She’s holding back the clear start of a smile from him this time, and Frank. Christ. It’s taking everything in him not to step toward her, to—

Karen tilts her chin at him, the motion loosening another wave of blonde hair, and he can’t remember anymore why he was trying so hard to stand back from all this. He’s moving, swaying forward until she’s just an arm’s length away, and there’s something almost teasing about the way she relaxes her shoulder into the door as she watches him.

“You back to kill some people, Frank?”

He feels a corner of his mouth turn up. This girl. He licks his lips, lets out a quiet sort of laugh. “That was the plan, yeah.”

Karen gazes up at him, unblinking. “Have you?”

“I was—” Frank has to look away for a moment, finally turning back when he can. His eyes are steady, boring into hers, voice low and full with meaning. “I was. Working on it.”

Karen nods. Doesn’t speak for long seconds, and he measures them out in heartbeats, chest tightening hard enough it feels like it might break when she asks him, very carefully, “Still?”

Frank steps closer, close enough to feel the way her breath shakes with a small sigh, how her body moves away from the door to meet him.

His hand is inches from hers, but he doesn’t reach for her. Not yet.

She waits, gaze searching. He gives the barest shake of his head, and a single word, gravel-filled, a promise. “No.”

Something cracks open in her expression, and it means everything to him, her head ducking away as though she can’t have him looking too closely at the way she's biting back that smile of hers, and he thinks – he thinks he wants to make her do it again, and again, for as long as she will have him.

“Would you like to come in, Frank?”

He takes her hand in his this time, feeling the pull of her as he steps across the threshold, door shutting firmly behind them, and it feels like coming home.

[lewiscarrollsocietynorthamerica]

CHAPTER II. The Pool of Tears

‘Curiouser and curiouser!’ cried Alice (she was so much surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English); ‘now I’m opening out like the largest telescope that ever was! Good-bye, feet!’ (for when she looked down at her feet, they seemed to be almost out of sight, they were getting so far off). ‘Oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? I’m sure I shan’t be able! I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself about you: you must manage the best way you can;—but I must be kind to them,’ thought Alice, ‘or perhaps they won’t walk the way I want to go! Let me see: I’ll give them a new pair of boots every Christmas.’

And she went on planning to herself how she would manage it. ‘They must go by the carrier,’ she thought; ‘and how funny it’ll seem, sending presents to one’s own feet! And how odd the directions will look!

    Alice’s Right Foot, Esq.       Hearthrug,         near The Fender,           (with Alice’s love).

Oh dear, what nonsense I’m talking!’

Just then her head struck against the roof of the hall: in fact she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door.

Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through into the garden with one eye; but to get through was more hopeless than ever: she sat down and began to cry again.

‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself,’ said Alice, ‘a great girl like you,’ (she might well say this), ‘to go on crying in this way! Stop this moment, I tell you!’ But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all round her, about four inches deep and reaching half down the hall.

After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the White Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other: he came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself as he came, ‘Oh! the Duchess, the Duchess! Oh! won’t she be savage if I’ve kept her waiting!’ Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of any one; so, when the Rabbit came near her, she began, in a low, timid voice, ‘If you please, sir—’ The Rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and skurried away into the darkness as hard as he could go.

Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking: ‘Dear, dear! How queer everything is to-day! And yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night? Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I’m not the same, the next question is, Who in the world am I? Ah, that’s the great puzzle!’ And she began thinking over all the children she knew that were of the same age as herself, to see if she could have been changed for any of them.

‘I’m sure I’m not Ada,’ she said, ‘for her hair goes in such long ringlets, and mine doesn’t go in ringlets at all; and I’m sure I can’t be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things, and she, oh! she knows such a very little! Besides, she’s she, and I’m I, and—oh dear, how puzzling it all is! I’ll try if I know all the things I used to know. Let me see: four times five is twelve, and four times six is thirteen, and four times seven is—oh dear! I shall never get to twenty at that rate! However, the Multiplication Table doesn’t signify: let’s try Geography. London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of Rome, and Rome—no, that’s all wrong, I’m certain! I must have been changed for Mabel! I’ll try and say “How doth the little—“’ and she crossed her hands on her lap as if she were saying lessons, and began to repeat it, but her voice sounded hoarse and strange, and the words did not come the same as they used to do:—

    ‘How doth the little crocodile      Improve his shining tail,     And pour the waters of the Nile      On every golden scale!     ‘How cheerfully he seems to grin,      How neatly spread his claws,     And welcome little fishes in      With gently smiling jaws!’

‘I’m sure those are not the right words,’ said poor Alice, and her eyes filled with tears again as she went on, ‘I must be Mabel after all, and I shall have to go and live in that poky little house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh! ever so many lessons to learn! No, I’ve made up my mind about it; if I’m Mabel, I’ll stay down here! It’ll be no use their putting their heads down and saying “Come up again, dear!” I shall only look up and say “Who am I then? Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I’ll come up: if not, I’ll stay down here till I’m somebody else”—but, oh dear!’ cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, ‘I do wish they would put their heads down! I am so very tired of being all alone here!’

As she said this she looked down at her hands, and was surprised to see that she had put on one of the Rabbit’s little white kid gloves while she was talking. ‘How can I have done that?’ she thought. ‘I must be growing small again.’ She got up and went to the table to measure herself by it, and found that, as nearly as she could guess, she was now about two feet high, and was going on shrinking rapidly: she soon found out that the cause of this was the fan she was holding, and she dropped it hastily, just in time to avoid shrinking away altogether.

‘That was a narrow escape!’ said Alice, a good deal frightened at the sudden change, but very glad to find herself still in existence; ‘and now for the garden!’ and she ran with all speed back to the little door: but, alas! the little door was shut again, and the little golden key was lying on the glass table as before, ‘and things are worse than ever,’ thought the poor child, ‘for I never was so small as this before, never! And I declare it’s too bad, that it is!’

As she said these words her foot slipped, and in another moment, splash! she was up to her chin in salt water. Her first idea was that she had somehow fallen into the sea, ‘and in that case I can go back by railway,’ she said to herself. (Alice had been to the seaside once in her life, and had come to the general conclusion, that wherever you go to on the English coast you find a number of bathing machines in the sea, some children digging in the sand with wooden spades, then a row of lodging houses, and behind them a railway station.) However, she soon made out that she was in the pool of tears which she had wept when she was nine feet high.

‘I wish I hadn’t cried so much!’ said Alice, as she swam about, trying to find her way out. ‘I shall be punished for it now, I suppose, by being drowned in my own tears! That will be a queer thing, to be sure! However, everything is queer to-day.’

Just then she heard something splashing about in the pool a little way off, and she swam nearer to make out what it was: at first she thought it must be a walrus or hippopotamus, but then she remembered how small she was now, and she soon made out that it was only a mouse that had slipped in like herself.

‘Would it be of any use, now,’ thought Alice, ‘to speak to this mouse? Everything is so out-of-the-way down here, that I should think very likely it can talk: at any rate, there’s no harm in trying.’ So she began: ‘O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool? I am very tired of swimming about here, O Mouse!’ (Alice thought this must be the right way of speaking to a mouse: she had never done such a thing before, but she remembered having seen in her brother’s Latin Grammar, ‘A mouse—of a mouse—to a mouse—a mouse—O mouse!’) The Mouse looked at her rather inquisitively, and seemed to her to wink with one of its little eyes, but it said nothing.

‘Perhaps it doesn’t understand English,’ thought Alice; ‘I daresay it’s a French mouse, come over with William the Conqueror.’ (For, with all her knowledge of history, Alice had no very clear notion how long ago anything had happened.) So she began again: ‘Ou est ma chatte?’ which was the first sentence in her French lesson-book. The Mouse gave a sudden leap out of the water, and seemed to quiver all over with fright. ‘Oh, I beg your pardon!’ cried Alice hastily, afraid that she had hurt the poor animal’s feelings. ‘I quite forgot you didn’t like cats.’

‘Not like cats!’ cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate voice. ‘Would you like cats if you were me?’

‘Well, perhaps not,’ said Alice in a soothing tone: ‘don’t be angry about it. And yet I wish I could show you our cat Dinah: I think you’d take a fancy to cats if you could only see her. She is such a dear quiet thing,’ Alice went on, half to herself, as she swam lazily about in the pool, ‘and she sits purring so nicely by the fire, licking her paws and washing her face—and she is such a nice soft thing to nurse—and she’s such a capital one for catching mice—oh, I beg your pardon!’ cried Alice again, for this time the Mouse was bristling all over, and she felt certain it must be really offended. ‘We won’t talk about her any more if you’d rather not.’

‘We indeed!’ cried the Mouse, who was trembling down to the end of his tail. ‘As if I would talk on such a subject! Our family always hated cats: nasty, low, vulgar things! Don’t let me hear the name again!’

‘I won’t indeed!’ said Alice, in a great hurry to change the subject of conversation. ‘Are you—are you fond—of—of dogs?’ The Mouse did not answer, so Alice went on eagerly: ‘There is such a nice little dog near our house I should like to show you! A little bright-eyed terrier, you know, with oh, such long curly brown hair! And it’ll fetch things when you throw them, and it’ll sit up and beg for its dinner, and all sorts of things—I can’t remember half of them—and it belongs to a farmer, you know, and he says it’s so useful, it’s worth a hundred pounds! He says it kills all the rats and—oh dear!’ cried Alice in a sorrowful tone, ‘I’m afraid I’ve offended it again!’ For the Mouse was swimming away from her as hard as it could go, and making quite a commotion in the pool as it went.

So she called softly after it, ‘Mouse dear! Do come back again, and we won’t talk about cats or dogs either, if you don’t like them!’ When the Mouse heard this, it turned round and swam slowly back to her: its face was quite pale (with passion, Alice thought), and it said in a low trembling voice, ‘Let us get to the shore, and then I’ll tell you my history, and you’ll understand why it is I hate cats and dogs.’

It was high time to go, for the pool was getting quite crowded with the birds and animals that had fallen into it: there were a Duck and a Dodo, a Lory and an Eaglet, and several other curious creatures. Alice led the way, and the whole party swam to the shore.

[thanagrian-a]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

repost,  don’t reblog !

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME.    Shayera Hol / Chay’ara Hol NICKNAME.    Shay, Wings GENDER.    cis female HEIGHT. 5′8″ AGE. 107 ZODIAC.    Aries SPOKEN LANGUAGES.    Thanagarian, Rannian, English, bits of Kryptonian

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR.    red EYE COLOR.    green SKIN TONE.    fair with prominent freckles on her face, chest, upper arms, and back BODY TYPE.  athletic, muscular ACCENT.  Thanagarian VOICE.   loud, direct, and informal, prone to outbursts when emotional, makes frequent use of slang/expressions when speaking english as a fallback to make up for her lack of vocabulary DOMINANT HAND.    right POSTURE.   at attention, chin lifted with chest puffed and shoulders back, wings folded, arms either crossed or with one hand resting on her hip SCARS.  one prominent scar over her right eye/eyebrow, noticeable claw marks on both biceps, one scar on her right wing near where it attaches to her back, and a long scar on her left side that wraps around her rib cage, numerous smaller, less significant scars TATTOOS.    none BIRTHMARKS.    none. MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S).  wings, loud voice, wild red hair, freckles, eye color, scars

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH.     the slums of Thanaldar HOMETOWN.    Thanaldar BIRTH WEIGHT.    5.5lbs BIRTH HEIGHT.    18in MANNER OF BIRTH.    natural FIRST WORDS.    no SIBLINGS.   none PARENTS.    Thal and Rhea Hol, both deceased PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT.    Mother was physically/emotionally abusive, father was distant and neglectful. She was disowned at age 5 and had little contact or interest in her parents as a child. Her few attempts to reconnect with them as an adult were met with rejection and there was no love lost when they died.

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION.   Superhero (previously a soldier, a spy, a detective, and a chief of government) CURRENT RESIDENCE.     Phoenix, Arizona (NYC, New York - verse dependent) CLOSE FRIENDS.    Clark Kent, Barry Allen, Hal Jordan, Diana Prince, Lois Lane, Bruce Wayne, Arthur Curry, Dinah Lance, Eobard Thawne RELATIONSHIP STATUS.    single (previously engaged) FINANCIAL STATUS.    on a stipend DRIVER’S LICENSE.    she can’t drive CRIMINAL RECORD.    traitor VICES.   she’s too proud, too stubborn, and too argumentative

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION.   bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION.   biromantic PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE.    submissive |  dominant  | switch. PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE.    submissive  | dominant  |  switch LIBIDO.    high TURN ON’S.  being rough TURN OFF’S.    being pinned down/tied up LOVE LANGUAGE.   physical contact, playing with hair RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.  not afraid of commitment but after her experience with her ex-fiance she’s a little reluctant to pursue anything long term unless absolutely confident in her partner, currently prefers short term or friends-with-benefits relationships

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG.   the chain by fleetwood mac HOBBIES TO PASS TIME.   reading, sparring, flying, watching television, cooking MENTAL ‘DISORDERS’.  none MENTAL ILLNESSES.    PTSD PHYSICAL ILLNESSES.    none. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED.    left brained PHOBIAS.    small spaces, being underground, dogs SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL.  high VULNERABILITIES.   vulnerable to people more powerful than her, emotional manipulation, certain kinds of weapons (i.e. alien weapons, atlantian steel, amazonian steel)

TAGGED BY:    @underoosed

TAGGING: whoever