#i as an adult villain would NOT throw hands with a ten year old

[carlandrea]

The reason Animorphs works as a deconstruction of the kid hero archetype is that it comes at it from a place of respect for the genre, and for the children reading it.

It never denies the kids agency, because it is a book for children, who want to read about children being given agency. Animorphs doesn't treat its child soldiers as victims the way a story aimed at adults would. They are full agents within the story who make moral choices. The fact that they are children is treated as a tragedy, but it's not treated as something that absolves them of any responsibility.

It plays by the rules. These kids are the only people who can save the world. They cannot trust the adults in their lives. It just takes that story—the story it's telling—seriously.

The message of animorphs isn't actually of "isn't it fucked up that this book I read when I was a kid sent a twelve year old on an adventure" it just uses its take on the kid hero genre to get across the actual message, which is War Is Hell

[obsidiancreates]

Out Of The Shadows and Into The Neon (Part 11)

Six fathers stand before five children. 

Leon taps his foot, arms crossed. “So… who wants to explain themselves?”

“She started it!” Mikey shouts, pointing at Tweetie who’s still rubbing sleep out of her eyes. She chirps in shock and rage!

“Your dads started it!”

“Now now!” Hypno puts his hands on his hips. “Tweetalinda Wellington Stone, you know the rules about fighting turtles!”

Tweetie slumps. “Stay away from the small ones.”

“That’s right. These guys are no joke, you know!” Hypno waves his arms at the Mad Dogz. “The small one can throw skyscrapers!”

“But the tiny ones can’t! And adults don’t fight kids!”

“Uh, hate to burst your bubble, kid, but we were children when your adult dads started fighting us,” Leon informs.

Tweetie’s feathers puff with rage. “Well-! Well, uh, no-one really got hurt! They hit each other more than I hit them!”

“Those were accidents!” Donnie defends.

“And they only happened because you swung your hammer at us!” Raph points at her with a sai– which is promptly confiscated by his father.

“Okay, okay.” Raphie sighs. “Listen, kids. We adults may have problems with each other, but we don’t want you inheriting those problems. You guys have no beef! If, you know, you ignore this whole situation.”

“And we don’t want you getting hurt,” Warren says to Tweetie. “Even an illustrious villain such as I–”

“Who is he again?” Angelo whispers to Donald. Donald shrugs.

“–doesn’t think there’s value in harming the children of my enemies. And I especially don’t want those enemies harming my child!”

“Does he think we’d fight a ten-year-old?” Raphie says aloud.

“Are you saying we wouldn’t?” Donald asks. Raphie frowns at him. Raph Jr. grins up at his uncle.

“I’d fight them again,” Tweetie chirps, crossing her arms.

“Well so would we! And Donnie would figure out how to beat you again!” Raph barks back, putting an arm around his younger brother. All four turtles scowl at Tweetie, who scowls right back.

The six fathers all share a look- not the look of enemies, not the look of shared mutant-ship, but the look of disappointed parents.

“Then you leave us no choice,” Hypno says, lowering his head dramatically. “We’re all in agreement.”

“This hurts to say, boys,” Angelo sniffles. “But… you’re…”

The six fathers speak at once.

“Grounded.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Uuuhhhhhggg!” Raph kicks the rug in the living room. “This sucks!”

“I know, dude! It’s like we’re being punished!” Mikey lays on his plastron, sunk deep into a beanbag.

“We are being punished, Mikey.” Leo looks longingly at the Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu movies they aren’t allowed to watch for the next two days. “It’s so unfair!”

“They did tell us not to get into fights.” Donnie sits in the middle of the room, trying to take apart an old junky camera he’d found using a paper clip and a butter knife. 

“Can’t Shelldon sneak us a movie or something?” Mikey whines, scrambling up and over to the screen on the coffee table.

“Sorry little dudes,” Shelldon says. “Grounded protocol is active, all I can do is watch you while the Mad Dogz are out.”

“But you’re our big brother!” Mikey clasps his hands together. “Can’t you, uh, override yourself?”

“Maybe if I had a body lil’ dude, but I’m just an app right now!”

“I still don’t know why Dad won’t let me make you a body,” Donnie grumps, prying the lens casing off the camera.

“Because everything you make blows up,” Raph says, plopping down next to Donnie and picking up the butter knife to twirl in his fingers. “And a robot can walk places before it blows up.”

“Not everything!” Donnie looks down the hall that leads to his father’s lab– which has collected a significant amount of burn marks, broken bricks, and metal patch jobs since Donnie started building his own projects at his dad’s side. “Just… some, things.”

“It’s because you use garbage, little dude,” Shelldon says. 

“I try to use Dad’s stuff!” Donnie grabs the butter knife back from Raph and twists the paperclip around the tip, making a makeshift screwdriver for the screen of the camera. “It’s just… hard! I feel weird messing up so much with all of it! At least if I mess up with garbage, the only thing that blew up is garbage.”

“Hey, you don’t always mess up.” Leo sits next to Donnie. “Like the little TV you made.”

“Or the pizza warmer!” Mikey bounces in place. “You made that out of an old toaster and it never blows up!”

“As long as Leo doesn’t use it,” Raph snarks, elbowing his older brother as he tjoins the circle next to Leo.

“It’s not my fault toasters hate me!” Leo elbows Raph back, then looks at Donnie again. “But, you also made that stuff for fires we could use without our dads knowing.”

“The self-dissipating fire suppression foam? I-I just formulated that off some stuff Papa Draxum and I were experimenting with.”

“And because of it, no-one even knows we set our skateboards on fire trying to add rockets,” Mikey says sagely. “... Hey, maybe we can do that again while we’re grounded! They can’t take away trash!”

Donnie looks at the makeshift screwdriver in his hand. “Hmm…” He looks at Shelldon. “Are you gonna tell on us if we do?”

“Programmed to, brah. Sorry.”

“Then… we won’t make any rockets out of trash.”

“Sounds good!”

Donnie grins, deviously, and looks at his brothers. Raph matches the mischief with his own grin, and Mikey whoops while rolling onto his back. Leo winces.

“I dunno… what if we get grounded even more?”

“What if I model yours after Jupiter Jim’s space-board from the Miami-Terra 4 trilogy?” Donnie offers. He looks at Shelldon. “Uh, in theory.”

“Cool theory, lil’ bro!”

Leo considers it… and then smiles. “With the turtle-shark shaped engine and everything?”

“Yes!” Raph and Mikey high-five over Leo joining in, and Raph pats Leo on the back. “Being grounded won’t be so bad after all!”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe we really grounded them!” Angelo wails, laying on top of a billboard and putting a hand over his eyes. “We’re the lame parents we always swore not to become!”

“HEY!” Splints lashes his tail, throwing a garlic knot between Angelo’s eyes. Angelo yelps as he tumbles off the billboard, catching himself with his mystic powers before he hits the rooftop– to save the building from harm more than himself.

“It’s true,” Raphie sniffles, holding a drawing Raph Jr. did for him a couple years ago of the two of them fighting some robots. “We must’ve done something wrong!”

“You have done nothing wrong, my sons.” Splints climbs up Raphie’s back so he can lay a hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes, children just do things they are told not to, and they need to learn there are reasons they are told not to do some things.”

“But what if we’ve been setting a bad example?” Leon sits on the edge of the rooftop, dangling one leg over the side and using the other to rest his arms and chin on. “I mean, they want to fight so bad because we fight. What if we did jump into this parenting thing too soon, and because we don’t know what we’re doing, they’ll get hurt?”

“Not if I complete my full-body growth-acclimating armor,” Donald says, working on the blueprints as they speak. “I started working on it three hours ago, so I should have it done by… breakfast.”

“But if we coddle them it’ll be even worse!” Angelo chews on the chain of his ‘chucks. “If only we knew someone who knew what raising kids is like!”

Splints eye twitches. “I AM STANDING RIGHT HERE! I LITERALLY CAME ALONG TO GIVE YOU FATHERLY ADVICE!”

“That’s why? I thought you just needed a new robe again.”

“NO! Well, maybe. But the main reason is the advice! Listen, my sons. I, too, did not expect fatherhood to be a part of my life. I made many mistakes.”

Donald opens his mouth.

“Which we know without exact numbers!”

Donald closes his mouth.

Splints sighs, rubbing his forehead. “My point is, it is not easy. And you boys are already doing… a better job, than I did when you were their ages. It is impossible to be a perfect parent. But your sons love you, and respect you. They are good boys– they will understand why you had to do this, and learn from it.”

“But… they’ll be upset with us.” Raphie holds the drawing close to his chest.

“You have been upset with me, yes?”

“Plenty.” “Oh, sure.” “Upset is a strong word…” “You STOLE MY TURTLE TANK!”

“Okay, okay!” Splints huffs. “But you forgave me, didn’t you?”

“Of course we did!” “After a bit.” “We love you, Dad!” “What is your definition of ‘forgave’?” 

“So your sons will forgive you four.” Splints gestures for them to move in, and to the best of his ability hugs all four of his sons. “And as I said. They are good boys! They are likely regretting their actions, already.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Donnie sticks his tongue out as he tightens the bolt using a pair of bent metal chopsticks he welded together out of a makeshift blowtorch. “Pliers?”

Mikey laughs and hands over a pair of “pliers” fashioned out of some old kiddie scissors. Donnie carefully attaches a wire to the tiny engine made out of old cameras, broken computer parts, and the remains of an old gas-powered stove.

Donnie wipes his forehead and sighs, then smiles. “I think they’re done! Behold, the ah… the shellboards!” 

He holds his hands out in proud display as his brothers’ eyes shine. Their little skateboards are now fitted with tiny rocket engines on the backs. Including a casing shaped like a turtle shell with a shark fin on top for Leo’s.

“AWESOME!” Mikey laughs widely as he grabs his and throws it down, flipping on top. “How does it work?!”

“This pedal turns it on, and to turn it off you just step on it aga-”

“TURBO TIME, DUDES!” Mikey steps on the pedal and blasts off.

“HEY, WAIT FOR US!” Raph hops on next and takes off after Mikey, the both of them whooping and cheering!

“GUYS! YOU’LL BREAK SOMETHING! … Well, uh, only one way to catch them.” Leo hops onto his own board and zooms!

“Maybe I’ll get in less trouble since I’m remembering my helmet.” Donnie straps it on, makes sure his knee and elbow pads are secure, and takes off after his brothers!

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t let us bring home apology pizzas,” Angelo says as they walk through the sewers.

“At least wait until they’ve been grounded for more than a few hours!” Splints says with a groan. His ears perk up, and he stops. “Wait. Do you hear…”

Leon leans forward with a hand to his ear-hole. “Happy screaming?”

Donald sniffs the air. “Is that… gasoline?”

Raphie backs up. “And is it getting closer?”

Angelo peers down the tunnel as a light shines from around a corner. “They can’t be–”

“HIT THE DECK!” Splints yanks his sons down to the ground as four tiny figures nearly fly overhead- if not for Raphie’s spikes catching on the wheels of the skateboards, sending them all tumbling off to the ground. The boards, still on, carry on down the tunnel without their riders.

“Ow!” Mikey rolls over. “What was tha… oooh.”

Angelo scoops Mikey up. “Ohmigosh! Are you okay?!”

“I’m okay, Dad!” Mikey covers his shoulder.

“What are you hiding?”

“It’s just a scratch!”

“Raph!” Raphie picks his son up as well, dangling him at arms-length. “What are you guys thinking?! You don’t even have your helmets on!”

“I do!” Donnie looks up at his dad, who stares down silently with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. Donnie looks down. “Um, we didn’t use the TV?”

A robotic arm from Donald’s battleshell reaches down and plucks the helmet off Donnie’s head. “It would have been better if you did.”

Leon crouches down to look his son in the eyes. “I know being grounded sucks, but this was literally the worst way to deal with the boredom! And, as awesome as rocket-powered skateboard are, you should not be messing with fire and high speeds when we aren’t around!”

“They were working really well until we got knocked off!” Leo defends. “Donnie nailed it this time!”

“What do you mean ‘this time’?” 

“... Um…”

“Okay, new rules!” Angelo tucks Mikey under his arm like he’s carrying a football. “From now on, no anything technology while you’re grounded! Y’all can color, eat already-cooked snacks, or talk to your aunts and uncle and grandpas, but nothin’ else!”

“But Daaaad!” Mikey pops into his shell. “That’s so lame!”

“We wouldn’t have to be lame if you guys didn’t almost get yourselves killed today! Twice!” Raphie plunks Raph on his shoulders. “And you know what? No ninja lessons for the rest of the week!”

The chorus of four little “Noooooo!”s is almost enough to break Raphie’s resolve– until Leon puts a hand on his shoulder and nods.

“And you, young man.” Donald’s robotic arm holds out, awaiting something. “Hand over whatever tools you used to make your highly impressive skateboards.”

Donnie sighs, and reaches into his belt. He hands over the butterknife with the paperclip, the chopstick-wrench, and the scissor-pliers. Donald’s disappointed-dad look melts away as he examines the tools. 

“Did you make these yourself?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Ohmigosh! Look at how resourceful my son i-!” Donald’s sparkling pride ceases when he turns and looks into the faces of his judging brothers and father. He clears his throat. “I mean, uh, don’t do it again. While you’re grounded. I’ll put these in a completely not showing-off display case until you earn them back.”

“How did you even do that while Shelldon was watching?” Leon asks as they all trudge back to the lair. “I thought he had some kinda alert system.”

“We went in another room,” Raph grumbles. “Told him it was hide-and-seek but using the lair cameras was cheating.”

“You guys are too smart for your own goods,” Raphie says, pinching between his eyes. “Okay, no more lying to your robot-brother/uncle or your human one or anyone else!”

“We can’t lie, can’t ride, can’t fight.” Mikey pops out of his shell, dangling from under his dad’s arm. “What can we do?!”

“How about you write your own comic?” Angelo looks around. “That’s uh, not against grounding rules, is it?”

“Uh… I don’t think so.” Raphie looks at Leon. Leon shrugs, so Raphie looks at Donald. Donald also shrugs.

“I think that will be fine.” Splints nods once. “It will be a good outlet foooooOOOOOO- BOYS!”

The four children wince as their fathers and grandfather stand in shock at the state of the lair living/entry room. The beanbags are singed from the passing rockets, there’s rubber marks on the floor, and smoke hangs heavy in the room. Shelldon’s tablet lays on the floor, the icon of his face showing X’s for eyes as he groans.

“... Oops,” Leo whispers.

“The comic can start… AFTER YOU CLEAN THIS ROOM!” Splints shoves various supplies into all of their hands. The four children whine, and Splints growls and glares. 

“Yes, grandpa,” they chorus.

[kageyamareijiraydark]

Why Kageyama Reiji (Ray Dark) is one of the best characters & villains 

Just a quick summary of his life, traumas and faults.

While some people might agree with the title of this post, I think there still are many ie fans who consider Kageyama Reiji to be a naturally evil man without scruples and morals who acts evil just for the sake of it. This is a very simplistic view which completely flattens the complexities of this character. It is true that IE is an anime with a young target audience, but there are also many dark details and sensitive issues that are worth focusing and reflecting on even and especially as teenagers or adults.

As regards Kageyama Reiji's childhood, I think we all know that Reiji has only negative memories of it. Reiji was of kindergarten age when he saw his beloved father, the great soccer player Kageyama Tougo, go from being a celebrity acclaimed by everyone to being the disappointment of an entire nation, which lead him to break down and abandon his family. Reiji saw his family shattered within a very short period of time, as his mother died around this time, thus leaving her son completely alone. All of Reiji’s memories are inextricably linked to the moment when he witnessed his father being not only humiliated on the football pitch, but also insulted and basically “verbally abused” by hundreds of “fans”, who were immediately ready to trade their “soccer idol” for another more talented one. (The scene where Reiji is among those “soccer fans” who were throwing stuff at Tougo is kinda heartbreaking)

From this moment on, a rapid decline of Kageyama family’s life into death and loneliness began (or simply continued). As i wrote earlier, Reiji gets abandoned by his parents, and it’s precisely this aspect that I’d like to focus on...  When Reiji gets arrested for the last, final time, Onigawara Gengorou (Gregory Smith), the man who spends the whole series investigating on Kageyama’s past, says that it’s impossible that Reiji was the man behind all the potentially criminal actions that have been taking place in the last 40 years (since the day the Inazuma Eleven’s bus got hijacked). If we take into account other explanations given by Onigawara himself, we understand that his doubts are well-founded, because at the time of the incident I just mentioned, Reiji was around ten or twelve years old. 

We all already know the identity of the man behind all of Reiji’s actions: Garshield (Zoolan). He was the one that approached Reiji when this latter was a merely traumatized, wounded, lonely child, instilling in him the desire for revenge, fuelling it by promising him all sort of stuff.

Of course, nothing and no one can justify the crimes to which Reiji actually contributed (thus getting his own hands dirty since he was a child while his puppet master - Garshield - was watching everything from afar and enjoying the money he got from his shady deeds). 

Now, I don’t know whether Reiji saw Garshield as a sort of “father figure” who would help him heal from all the pain through revenge, maybe he did see him that way at first, but regardless of this he indeed spent the most crucial years of his life with Garshield as his only adult figure of reference. Could he ever have become a functional adult?

When Reiji realizes he can no longer submit to Garshield’s orders, this latter calls him a mere pawns in his hands and, while referring to the incident that will took Reiji’s life away, he states that death is what you have to expect when you bite the had that fed you. I don’t know about other dubs, but in the Italian one Reiji often emphasises to Kidou the importance of knowing how to move the pawns as effectively as possible. Mistakes couldn’t be allowed. Spending an entire life to the dependencies of the only adult figure who raised you - a tyrannical figure with no morals - unfortunately led Reiji to repeat the same dysfunctional patterns, attitudes, behaviours he learnt from Garshield. All of this took effort, so much effort, because after all, as he said to Fidio (Paolo), he used to long for the light, but he ended up hating it because he no longer had the chance to lay his eyes on it, so he had no choice but to rely on the darkness in order to survive.

It is now necessary to talk about Reiji’s “greatest Creature”, for it was the encounter with Kidou that first shakes the walls around his heart; it was Kidou’s rebellion that instilled in him doubts, insecurities, fear… and that awakened the trauma of failure, humiliation, loss, abandonment. Reiji’s relationship with Kidou becomes obviously dysfunctional at some point, Reiji literally freaks out when Kidou decides to move away from him (thus breaking some sort of generational trauma cycle). Being abandoned again by someone he cared about was not part of his plans and it is something that tears him apart so deeply that he is willing to do anything (even to attempt to create a perfect copy of him through Demonio Strada / Giulio Acuto) to make Kidou come back to him. 

Another crucial moment in Kageyama’s “redemption arc” is the match between Orpheus and Inazuma Japan, which makes the above mentioned walls falter once and for all. And here some of the credit goes to Fidio. Why him? Why not Kidou? It actually makes sense that someone with a “similar” past as Reiji but who isn’t emotionally attached to him was able to grasp the reasons of his actions better than someone (Kidou) who, whether you like it or not, will forever be affectively attached to him.

And well, the rest is history. Reiji is forced to face with his darkest trauma while watching Fidio play soccer the way his father, Kageyama Tougo, used to play. He immediately loses his temper, yells at Fidio to stop playing like the man who destroyed his whole existence and made him hate soccer… and then breaks down. “What do you know about it?” he angrily asks Fidio “What do you know about the darkness I had to carry inside of me? You know nothing about it!” And it was true. No one could have ever imagined what he went through… Still, there was one last chance of salvation. The veil was torn, the mask fell, and tears started streaming down his face. He was finally ready to forgive his father, to look at the blue sky again for the first time in a long time, to embrace the light, to be reborn… in death. “The darkness is finally over” and so is his own life.

I’m almost done, I promise, I just wanted to highlight a parallelism which I find quite beautiful: the one between Reiji raising his eyes to the sky and being able to feel emotions again after being freed from the darkness and Rushe being able to see again thanks to Reiji himself, who paid the medical expenses of her eye surgery. “ Rushe, I want you to watch closely with your eyes… and feel with all of your senses the magnificence of soccer, the sport I have spent my whole life hating… but also loving. “ Reiji writes in the letter that Rushe will read only after his death. 

The final scene of episode 106 in which:

the news announces the death of Kageyama

Rushe reads the letter and expresses her wish to see Reiji asap to talk with him about soccer

and Jude, hearing the little girl’s words, bitterly sighs and clutches Reiji’s glasses in his hands  

is heartbreaking, almost gut-wrenching to say the least, especially if we take into consideration the fact that Kageyama had decided to take care of Rushe a long time before… he could no longer stand the idea that someone could get hurt because of the sport he most hated and loved at the same time (this makes us understand that he had long ago decided to turn his back on Garshield: his process of repentance had already begun), that’s why he paid for her eye surgery, visited her several times at the hospital, sent her letters… and eventually learnt to love her as if she was his daughter. All of this made him feel a bit relieved: “After all, by doing so you felt that your heart was little by little escaping from the darkness into which it had sunk, didn’t you?“ Nakata once said to him. But the guilt was still too much. The sins on his conscience were terribly heavy. He knew he did not deserve the gratitude, the light, the smiles of that little girl who so cheerfully talked to him about wanting to learn to play soccer from him and who so lovingly called him… uncle (おじさん).

[bothcreativitybois]

The Mayor’s Sweet Treat Chapter 3

Wordcount: 2955

Ship: Intruality

TWs: Food, horses, dogs, skipping meals, a little bit of past angst, sexual references, swearing 

Taglist: @star-crossed-shipper @crazydemigod666 @idont-freaking-know @someoneiwasnt @seraphiie @the-sympathetic-villain @cute-and-angsty-princess @lonelymuffin 

Remus flung out of the truck and smashed on the bakery door. 

“Wakey wakey!” Remus shouted at the doors. Above him a window opened. Patton smiled down radiantly. The cold night breeze rustled his hair dreamily while Remus’ long locks thrash slightly.

Remus you dumbass! He isn’t used to this!

“You’re an impatient one, Mr Grinch.” Patton joked.

“Actually it’s Mr Manzana.” Remus shouted back. “Are you coming down or not?” Patton giggled and closed the window. A few seconds later he appeared beside the building.

“So where are we going?” Patton asked as Remus walked up to him. Remus laughed.

“The best place in town, which is conveniently also the only place.” Remus joked. Patton followed him down the street to a little restaurant with a yellow sign. Remus opened the door for Patton as they entered the small restaurant. There were a handful of tables set up with only one in use. Remus walked over to greet the small family at the table. Patton followed awkwardly.

“Remus!” A gruff father looking figure shouted and pat Remus on the back. “Good ta see ya.” Also at the table were two small children and an elderly lady.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” The elderly lady chimed in. Remus smiled widely while Patton just sort of shrank behind him.

“Staying out of trouble as much as possible.” Remus chuckled, both the adults laughed.

“Which for you isn’t possible.” The man laughed heartily. Remus smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Clyde, let me introduce you to Patton.” Remus held a hand out as to present Patton. The man looked at him happily.

“Great to meet ya.” Clyde stood up and enveloped Patton’s hand in a strong handshake.

“You too.” Patton said meekly. The large man laughed.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” Clyde joked. “Remus however…” He elbowed Remus who pulled a fake innocent face.

“These darling angels are Taylor and June.” Remus ruffled the hair of the two children who both tried to push his hand away. “And this is Ms Cath. She taught me when I was the kids' sizes.” The elderly lady stood up and hugged Patton. The hug was soothing, it reminded him of his mother. He thought about how long it’s been since he was hugged… a couple months?

“Welcome to our little town, honey.” Ms Cath soothed. “Well let you two get back to it. But if you ever need anything then just stop by the school and see me.” The old lady winked. Remus put a hand on Patton’s back and after a few more words with the family guided Patton to their own table. Patton looked around the restaurant. Not in a nervous way, just the way you do when you enter a new place. The people he’d just met were chatting happily and enjoying their food.  Remus snapped his fingers to get Patton’s attention.

“Hey so the waiter is a friend of mine and he has some unique features. Don’t to stare, it upsets him.” Remus whispered. Patton nodded politely just as the waiter in question showed up.

“So this is the baker I heard about?” The waiter said. Patton looked up to see a little name tag reading ‘Janus’. The man had a large black birthmark and a lazy eye. He figured that’s what Remus meant. 

“I like your hair.” Patton smiled. Janus touched the small bun his dreads were pulled back in. His face was surprised.

“Thanks.” He turned to Remus. “You getting what you always get?” Remus laughed.

“Don’t fix what ain’t broke.” Remus confirmed with a wide smile. “And an extra for my friend here.” Janus nodded and scribbled something down on his notepad.

“Great. I’ll be off work at midnight so if you plan on taking ‘your friend’ home then please be done by then.” Janus said calmly and walked away. Patton blushed but Remus simply laughed. He looked down at Patton, he realised how uncomfortable he looked.

He reached across the table and grabbed Patton’s hand. He noticed a small tattoo on Patton’s wrist he hadn’t seen before, a little frog.

“Sorry, I kinda threw you in the deep end there.” Remus apologised. “Janus was just joking around, he’s really nice albeit a little dry and blunt.” Remus attempted to reassure Patton, it seemed to work as he released the tension in his shoulders a bit and nodded. Remus pulled his hand away.

“Everyone here seems really nice.” Patton said. Remus smiled and looked around. 

“It’s that small town spirit.” Remus replied. “When everyone knows everyone no one is really mean… well except for some of the older families who have weird rivalries but that’s a story for another day.” Remus was so calm, it was weird. Usually he was bouncing off the walls by now but something about Patton was keeping him on the ground.

“Tell me about growing up here?” Patton asked. Remus took a deep breath. There were thousands of stories racing around his head and he needed to find a way to summarise them all.

“It’s chaotic but somehow also predictable.” He eventually answered. “From the outside it’s like a horse rolling around on it’s back. It looks ridiculous but it knows exactly what it’s doing.” Patton was amused by the analogy. He understood that Remus was a country kid but now he was just being cliché. Not to mention Patton knew next to nothing about horses.

“And what does it mean when a horse rolls around?” Patton asked, genuinely curious about the silly behaviour of horses. Remus’ face lit up.

“Most the time it means they got colic and are trying to dislodge whatever got stuck. But if it’s a younger philly they could just be having fun. Colic isn’t serious though, usually it’s solved just by leading it for a walk or a shot of penicillin.” Remus explained. Patton watched how Remus’ eyes sparkled as he talked, he seemed a lot more in his element. “Colic is what keeps the vets round here in business. Pretty much everyone has a horse and the farms all have at least three. I got one still livin’ at my parents place, I’ve been meaning to move her to mine but she’s scared to death of trailers and I don’t have the ti-” Remus was cut off by a groan from Janus who had appeared with two plates.

“Kraken is fine on the farm, they have good use for her.” Janus began. “If we brought her to our place she’d be stuck in a paddock all day and only get ridden every week or so.” Janus placed down the plates with two tall burgers. “Two lamb burgers, one with extra pickle and barbeque sauce.” Janus pulled a face as he announced the last part.

“Thanks.” Patton smiled happily. Janus nodded and walked away. Patton looked over at Remus who was taking pickles off his burger and putting them on a napkin. “Why did you order extra pickles if you aren’t eating them?” Patton was confused. Remus looked up and smiled devilishly. He liked pickles, but always ordered extra for something special.

“You’ll see.” Remus winked as he wrapped up the pickles and put them in his pocket. 

The two men didn’t talk much as they ate. Remus was used to being the kind to devour food quickly while everyone else told him to slow down, so he was surprised when he saw Patton finished his burger first. Patton was just happy to be eating real food again.

“You finished that fast.” Remus said as he took the last bite of his burger. Patton looked up and blushed. Truthfully it was the first thing he’d eaten today, he had skipped breakfast and was too stressed to eat while working. Patton laughed awkwardly. Remus reeled, he meant it as a compliment but was worried Patton didn’t take it that way. “I mean that in a good way, pancake. It’s hard to find people who can keep up with me.” Remus quickly added. Patton giggled. Remus stood to leave but Patton stopped him.

“Wait! We need to pay.” Patton fretted. Remus looked over Patton and winked at Janus, he sighed and waved them away. Patton watched the weird exchange and didn’t notice Remus grab his hand to pull him out of the restaurant. He was tugged out so fast he nearly fell down but he couldn’t help but laugh. Remus pulled him down the dark street as they both cackled.

“Where are we going?” Patton asked through the laughs. Remus looked back and flashed a brilliantly evil smile.

“You wanted a tour, didn’t you?” Remus said as he halted to a stop. Patton nearly ran right into him if it wasn’t for Remus’ outstretched arm. “Here is where we start!” Remus pointed to the building in front of them. A brick building with a clock above the door.

“Mindville Council Hall?” Patton read from the sign next to him. Remus shook his head and shook his pointed hand. Patton followed the line of sight to, “The… clock?” Remus nodded excitedly so fast he looked like he might burst. He reached into his pocket and took out the napkin from the restaurant.

“The clock hasn’t worked in years.” Remus said as he took a pickle from the napkin, he handed the rest to Patton. “This is a way better use for it anyway.” With that Remus hucked the pickle slice into the air towards the clock, it hit the glass cover with a barely audible splat. Remus would come here as a kid and throw all sorts of things, but he found out quickly that pickles were not only the most accessible but also stuck the best. Remus celebrated with a loud cheer and took the pickles from Patton. “Give it a try.” Patton gently took a pickle and looked up at the clock. It was at least ten meters up.

“I’m not sure I can get it…” Patton conceded. Remus took a pickle slice and laughed.

“Who cares?” Remus shouted as he threw another pickle, this one hitting above the first. Patton took a deep breath and pulled back his hand. He closed his hand and threw the pickle as hard as he could. He looked up in time to see it land just short of the clock. He blushed in embarrassment but to his surprise Remus hollered.

“Whooo!” Remus cheered. His whoops were brash and loud, like when the electric mixer hit the edge of the metal bowl. “That’s a great shot!” Patton smiled at the enthusiasm and grabbed another slice. Remus did too and they both threw them together. Remus hit the 4 while Patton’s was just shy of the clock again. Suddenly the lights of the building turned on around them. “On to the next place!” Remus threw the napkin with the rest of the slices and began bolting down the road, Patton stood shocked for a second then followed.

“Aren’t you the mayor?” Patton huffed as they ran. Remus was surprisingly fast and he had trouble keeping up.

“Yes, and?” Remus said, barely breaking a sweat. When they were far enough away Remus slowed down and started pointing out the shops they walked past. “That is the butcher, if you ask nicely they’ll give you bones that aren’t big enough to sell as dog bones. That’s Salamanders Silk, one of the 7 places I’ve gotten a cut that needs stitching which is ironic given it’s a clothes store.” Something told Patton this tour wouldn’t be overly informative of the actual places. “And this is the bakery that makes amazing muffins.” Remus stopped. Patton realised they were in front of his shop. He looked up at the bare walls of the building, it looked abandoned. Every shop in town had nice signs and lovely paint but his just looked sad. 

“How about I give you a tour?” Patton chimed in happily. Remus looked down and nodded excitedly. Patton walked up and unlocked the door. “Welcome to Froggy and Doggy Bakery.” Patton sang happily.

“Finally, I get a name.” Remus joked. Patton sighed and looked up at the empty space where a sign should hang.

“Yeah I need to get on to the sign company again.” He said sadly. Remus took a mental note of Patton’s qualms.

“How’d you get the name? Is doggy your favourite position or something?” Remus asked as he walked in. Patton locked the door behind them and flipped on the lights.

“Actually it’s based on a story my mother told me as a kid.” Patton started. Remus regretted his previous statement. “There was a princess who had two suitors, a prince and a farmer. She asked each to bring her an animal as a gift. The prince brought her a well bred dog with beautiful hair. The farmer brought her a small green frog. She took each pet and announced she would be marrying the farmer. The prince got mad and demanded her to answer why. She said that anyone can go out and buy a dog, but the farmer had spent time catching the frog and cleaning it to present to her. Even though his gift wasn’t the most pretty or conventional, it had the most effort and thought put in it.” Patton smiled as he told the story, Remus was entrapped by his words. He clearly had fond memories of that story and it was reflected in how happily he told it.

“I think that’s my new favourite fairy tale.” Remus said when Patton finished talking. “Is that why you have that tattoo as well?” Remus gestured to Patton’s wrist. He nodded.

“My ex was a tattoo artist and he did it as a birthday gift.” Patton said as he rubbed a thumb over the small frog drawn on his wrist. It took him a moment to realise he had just come out to a man he’d met only earlier today. He looked up expecting some sort of reaction from Remus, but he didn’t care. Remus was just looking around the bakery, closely inspecting a sign on one of the walls. Patton found it refreshing to have someone not have a big reaction.

“Art gallery? What’s this for?” Remus asked. The wall had no art on it, just a few small shelves. Patton walked over to join him.

“Oh my mother had the idea that artists could put up any art they had to sell here for a small fee. That way we could generate more business while helping people.” Patton informed. “That reminds me, is there a homeless shelter I could donate any unsold items to?” Remus was surprised. Patton had never been here and already wanted to help the people. It was admirable.

“Well there aren’t any homeless shelters here because there isn’t a need for them, but there is one in the city as you probably know. It’s an hour drive but they’d probably be very happy with a donation even once a week.” Remus explained. Patton looked back blankly.

“Why would I know that?” Patton asked.

“You lived there before you moved here, didn’t you?” Remus thought it was obvious. The only people who knew about this town were the people living in it and some of the people in surrounding areas.

“No. I lived on the coast.” Patton said. 

That’s in the very least 3 hours away. Remus thought.

“Why’d you move here then?” Remus asked plainly, not knowing that for Patton it was a loaded question. Patton crossed his arms and looked down. Remus noticed. “Oh- uh- you don’t have to answer.” He stammered quickly trying to comfort Patton. He was curious but didn’t want to make Patton uncomfortable.

“Thanks.” Patton whispered. It hurt to think back to the time before he moved. It hurt to remember how he pretended to be happy so much that he even fooled himself. He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts and smiled at Remus. “How about some dessert?” Patton chirped. He really bounced back quickly. Remus wasn’t sure if Patton was serious or flirting so he just nodded his head. Patton clapped and made a happy noise. He led Remus up the stairs to his apartment and unlocked the door, the whole time Remus becoming more and more confused what this invitation entailed.Patton opened the door and allowed Remus to enter. He entered the small studio apartment with an impressive kitchen. Remus didn’t know how to play this. Did Patton think this was a date? Even so he was so sweet and kind that Remus didn’t pin him as the kind to give it up on the first date. Remus tentatively walked over and sat on the large bed. Patton looked across the room where Remus had taken a seat on his bed. It suddenly hit him how his offer may have sounded. Thoughts crashed against Patton’s mind. He quickly walked over and opened the fridge. Patton pulled out a few small caramel tartlets and brought them over to Remus. “Ta da!” Patton announced.

Oh of course. Remus thought. Of course Patton meant actual dessert. He’s a fucking baker.

Patton once again was alone but this time he was a lot happier. 

“They look great.” Remus said as he admired the lovely caramel tarts with chocolate shavings.

“Take them. As a thank you for tonight.” Patton pressed the plate into Remus’ arms. Remus took the plate and tried one of the tarts. The rich caramel melted in his mouth and blended perfectly with the buttery shortbread crust. “And tell Janus I said thanks too.”

“He’ll love these.” Remus mumbled, shoving another in his mouth. Patton giggled. Remus said his goodbyes and left. 

[bluegarners]

“someone slips on ice and gets hurt... hurt/comfort pls!” ~anon

For 12 Days of Batfam prompts! 

Gotham is cold.

He doesn’t mean that metaphorically, like Batman would normally brood over. Sure, Gotham was pretty heartless when it came to certain things, and yeah, Bludhaven wasn’t any better, and sure, Gotham sometimes felt like one endless cycle of insanity day after day, but he’s getting away from the point.

He’s talking about the frigid kind of cold. Not the kind of cold where snow falls lightly from the sky and dusts the world in white. Not the kind of cold where it’s just chilly enough to put on a jacket and some gloves and start a fire (a contained and safe fire, mind you- arson is not part of that description) and maybe sip some hot chocolate and roast a couple marshmallows for the heck of it. 

That’s the kind of crisp weather Dick would like, but as he said: Gotham is cold.

Which brings him to where he is now, jogging in place and trying his best to stay warm on what may be the most boring stake-out he’s done in months. His suit isn’t built to be warm. It’s not bulky and though it has kevlar in it, the material is meant to help stop bullets and deter knives from gracing themselves into his, unfortunately, vulnerable organs. Point being, the skin tight and relatively thin suit he’s wearing isn’t built for Gotham’s icy chill. 

His fingers had gone numb a while ago, and Dick’s absolutely sure he’s sporting a new shade of blue lipstick from Fenty Beauty, and were someone to see him, Dick’s also certain they might mistake him for Rudolph. He wouldn’t mind being recognized as such an icon, but it wasn’t exactly the sort of thing to intimidate criminals with.

Efforts at staying warm prove futile, and the exercise he tries to do without being obvious also does little to put back some feeling into his toes. He’s thinking about calling it a night, the drug deal he’d been hoping to catch the last few weeks a bust, when a classically suspicious white van pulls up. It’s laughable, in a way, how stereotypical some of Gotham’s “lesser” villains could be, but Dick’s not one to complain.

Makes his job easier after all.

Two men exit the van, shuffling through some contents in the back. They’re both wearing ski masks, somewhat appropriate for the weather actually, and seem to be in a hurry. Hushed whispers go between the two as they wait stoically by the front doors of the van, what looks to be a small ziploc back clutched in one of the goons hands. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it’s a drug deal, or at least something related to it, and Dick feels a smile creep onto his frozen face as another person slowly walks up to them, shifty and anxious.

A newbie then, Dick thinks, crouching down and carefully making his way closer to them from his vantage point. Must be a kid then.

Based on the height and general demeanor of the newcomer, it’s safe to assume that the buyer is indeed a teenager, at most a young adult. Perhaps not even old enough to buy alcohol. How they heard about the new drug, and where to get it, was a bit surprising, but seeing as the deal was happening in the poorer districts, Dick was sadly not perturbed. 

There are few quick words exchanged, an envelope of cash being handed over for the ziploc baggie, and Dick knows it’s time to finally take action. A good thing too, seeing as it feels like the soles of his boots had become suspended to the frozen concrete.

His entrance startles both parties, the men in ski masks immediately reaching for weapons and the teenager backing away, stumbling over himself in an effort to run. Perhaps if they were more experienced, or at the very least a second more prepared, they would have been able to put up some sort of defense. As it were, though, Dick had been stalking this particular drug for weeks. He knew where most of the suppliers were, knew what areas they liked to sell in, knew their demographics and the supply chain, and also knew who and what the dealers consisted of. 

This “new” drug was really just a potent mixture of PCP and bath salts. A dangerous combination, but not valuable enough to have competent dealers and proper weapons for protection. 

Which is why the take down of both men lasts all of about seven seconds, Dick easily knocking them out before they could reach for any weapons they happened to have in that van of theirs. He’ll give them props for trying though- it’s not everyday Nightwing, of all people, decides to ruin your one job.

With the dealers out of the way, Dick turns back around to see the teen, baggie in tow and still clutched tightly in his fist, booking it across the street. It’s dark enough to the point where the boy just looks like a flighty shadow in the night, but the flickering lamp-posts give just enough light to show exactly where he was heading. The confidence in his gait suggested that he knew where he wanted to go, and if Dick had to make a hypothesis, he’d say the kid was heading home. 

The only place in the world that could feel safe after something like this.

Dick feels a frown pull on his face, the skin tight from being exposed to the bitter air, and not for the first time, feels a smidgen of sympathy for the situation. He brushes it off though, shelving that particular thought of his to the back of his mind, and grapples onto the building over, pulling himself over the ledge. 

He follows the kid from the rooftops, leaping over gaps and darting across fire-escapes to keep up with the twists and turns the teen took. If he knew he was being tailed, then the kid was doing a pretty good job at evading, but he was no match for someone who had trained for years doing this exact thing. Dick may live in Bludhaven now, but Gotham would always be his first home. He knew this city almost as well as Bruce, and the only reason he didn’t know just as much was because he hadn’t given his soul away to it just yet. Bruce had shaken hands with the city and signed away his being when he donned the cowl. 

Dick was attempting to do the same with Bludhaven.

The kid bolts into an alleyway, coat flying behind him in his mad dash, and Dick thinks now is the time to stop the chase. He descends from the rooftop, landing in front of the breathless teen, and holds out a hand firmly. It’s a little funny, the scene he makes. Not only does he look like Rudolph, but with the pose he’s made for himself, he might as well be a crosswalk guard with his hand up to halt speeding cars.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he says, not unkindly. “Let’s do this the easy way, kid.”

The teen takes a step back, the drugs held tightly against his chest. “You’re… you’re Nightwing.”

“The one and only,” Dick smiles, taking a step forward. 

“But-but this is Batman’s city. Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Honestly, kid, that’s not your biggest concern right now. If I were you, I would be worrying about how to explain those drugs you’ve got there.”

As if realizing the contents of the baggie for the first time, the teens eyes dart to it, panic setting in as the situation’s gravity, and what it could mean for him, overwhelms him.

“Th-These aren’t mine,” the kid tries. “I-I swear I wasn’t gonna use them.”

“Uh huh,” Dick says, taking another step closer. “Why don’t you try again, uh, what’s your name?”

“I’m not telling you that.”

“Okay,” Dick shrugs, easing his way nearer. “That’s fine, I’ll just call you Buddy. Now, Buddy, there are two ways this can go. One, you give me that bag and you’ll only be reported for minor drug possession. Gotham has a fine ranging from 30 to 50 dollars for that sort of crime, so it won’t be too bad. The second option is, well, I don’t think you want the second option. So, what’s it going-”

Now, Dick could blame about ten different things for what happened next. He could blame his mouth, as he gets too chatty with the younger ones sometimes. He could blame the poor lighting, seeing even more difficult at this time of night. He could even blame the wind for being too loud, lest he would’ve heard the quick intake of breath and shuffling feet. 

Dick could blame many different things, but as it were, Nightwing was being pushed, hard, and he hadn’t seen it coming. 

The unexpected shove throws him off balance, arms waving in the air for some sort of hold, and Nightwing probably would’ve been able to stop the fall on any other night, but, as he keeps being sorely reminded, Gotham is cold tonight.

Gotham’s cold was unforgiving and instead of snow, it produced ice. And, lucky him, a patch of black ice presented itself right where his unfortunate footing was trying to find some stabilization. His feet fly right out from under him, all four appendages now in the air and flailing comically.

Dick has the awareness to at least look where he’s falling, craning his neck just so, and he internally groans as the sight of an open garbage can meets him. For whatever reason, Gotham liked using metal cans, of all things, and this one did not have a lid on it. 

Fantastic.

He can’t catch himself, his arms out of his control (Dick also blames the cold for the numbness in his hands and, hence, lack of grip), and it’s all he can do but brace for impact. Oh, he’s so going to-

The side of his head slams into the rim of the metal bin, and the world goes white. He crumples against the frozen ground, boneless and suddenly without vision. Something warm, or decidedly extremely cold, slides down his neck and Dick can barely keep his eyes open. There’s no pain, at least not yet his muddled head reminds him, but he can’t seem to move or do anything for that matter. Sensations fail him and the lack of any visuals besides the blaring white and static in his eyes scares him. His tongue feels fuzzy, and there’s something smooth and metallic dribbling past his lips, but his biggest concern right now is getting up.

Laying here, injured, was a big no no. Vulnerability was a dangerous thing. If he could just… If he could just move his arm, he might be able to do something. Call for backup maybe. There’s a drug bust that’s going to go down soon and he’s been tracking these guys for weeks now and it would be a shame if they were to get away. Those drugs were dangerous after all, and in the wrong hands could get someone killed. It could get kids killed. It could get his… his buddy killed. Did he have a buddy? Buddy?

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”

Dick hears the distorted voice from above, the sound crackly and pitchy. 

“Oh, god, I-I swear- oh my god. I didn’t mean to do that, I swear, I swear. Oh my god, what do I do. What do I- oh my god, I killed him. I killed him.”

If he could, Dick would roll over and try to console the obviously panicking person. He can’t exactly make out everything they were saying, but it sounded bad. What happened? Were they hurt?

A hand is jostling his shoulder now. 

“Sir, Nightwing, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please wake up, I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Wake up, wake up please. I’m sorry, oh my god, I didn’t-”

Another sound pings in his ear, like the toll of a tiny bell, but Dick doesn’t have the presence of mind to really register it. It’s the last thing he hears before the static overpowers him and the white disappears.

.

.

.

Tim hates being sick. He hates being benched even more, but he’s only benched because he’s sick. So maybe he actually hates being sick more than being benched. He’s not sure.

The head cold he’s been nursing, begrudgingly, the past few days has been steadily getting better. He woke up this morning without feeling like his head was being squeezed into a compressor, so it was progress. Alfred still won’t let him drink anything but water, something about hydration being key, but as he sips some hot chocolate from his favorite mug, Tim thinks that what Alfred doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

He’s on monitor duty currently, a task assigned to anyone who wasn’t out on patrol. Barbara was on a break tonight, taking the time off to sleep and try to catch up on other things, so it was left to Tim to handle the comms. It’s boring, horribly so, but it’s the only thing he’s allowed to do without being wrestled to his bed to rest.

He begins pinging everyone for their hourly check-in, a new protocol Bruce decided to implement after “the incident” (Tim still believes that the check-ins are unnecessary- it only happened one time! One time!), and waits for their response. He gets a few pings back, Spoiler being the only one to actually say hi, and waits for Nightwing to answer. 

A minute go by and Tim pings Nightwing again. Most likely, Dick was distracted. He’d said he was on a stake-out tonight, hopeful to catch some dealers in the act. Maybe he finally did. Maybe he didn’t. Tim doesn’t really care; the warm drink in his hands was making him sleepy.

Another minute passes, and Tim lethargically pings again. Concern is slowly seeping into his stuffy brain, but he’s deciding to give Dick a little more time to answer. Dick was a chatter-box sometimes, and though he doesn’t have a headache right now, Tim’s not eager to gain one.

“This is Red Robin, requesting a check in,” he says into the comms, frowning a bit when there’s still no answer. “Nightwing, report.”

He’s technically not supposed to do this, privacy being a very important part of all their lives, but the silence was making him nervous. With just the slightest bit of hesitance, Tim opens the communication line so he can listen to what, exactly, Dick is doing. The comms are two way, and with Tim having access to the main port, he can time into anyone's’ comm and hear the situation. Typically it’s yelling or curses on the other end, the normal reason for not answering the ping being a fight or some unavoidable situation.

What Tim isn’t prepared for, however, is the labored breathing that sounds horribly wet and pained. Like someone was breathing through a straw and drowning at the same time. Okay, not a great analogy, but he’s caught off guard and suddenly very aware of the fact that Nightwing is injured and, probably, incapacitated. 

There’s someone in the background as well, their voice not quite decipherable but panicked all the same. It’s definitely not a voice Tim recognizes and that amps up his anxiety a bit more. 

Quickly tuning to the shared channel, Tim urgently says, “Nightwing’s down. I’m sending out his location. Whoever is closest needs to get there ASAP. Someone’s with him as well, but I don’t know who it is. They might’ve been the one to attack him.”

“Robin and I are close. ETA two minutes,” Batman grunts, the slight pitch change an indication of his worry. “Is Nightwing’s comm broken?”

“No,” Tim sighs, unable to do anything more but listen to it all unfold. “He didn’t report in for the hourly. For whatever reason, he can’t respond. He’s injured, but I don’t know to what extent. He might be unconscious.”

“How long has he been down?” Robin demands.

“I don’t know,” Tim responds, growing frustrated. “He didn’t say anything earlier or call for backup.”

“Have Agent A prepare things,” Batman orders. “Treatment for hypothermia may be needed. Batman out.”

“Robin out.”

The moment of silence after is haunting, but the feeble breaths that come through a second later make Tim’s stomach churn. It fills the Cave, echoing and reverberating sounds of sickness and hurt.

He can’t turn it off though. He has to make sure Dick is okay. That he’s still breathing because although it’s grating and gut-wrenching to listen to, it’s a sign of life.

Tim hates being benched.

.

.

.

The one hundred and twenty three seconds it takes to get to Richard’s location is tense. It’s a blinking blue dot on the radar, flickering in and out as they draw nearer and nearer to the dank alleyway Nightwing was laying in. 

Batman and Robin had opted to patrol with the Batmobile that night, the bite of Gotham’s frost a needless pain to endure. Damian hadn’t made a comment about Richard’s foolish idea to do a stake-out in below freezing temperatures, it wasn’t his place to ridicule the man he looked up to on something so trivial, but Damian thinks he’s regretting that decision a bit. 

Richard listened to him. Not all the time, and frequently the older man possessed more knowledge on what was to happen, but he did consider Damian’s advice and for that, he was grateful. Now, Damian wished he had just slapped the man to get him to see straight. Clearly, the plan had been inane from the beginning, and now Nightwing needed to be rescued and assisted. 

An imbecilic situation.

They reach the entrance, or perhaps exit, of the alleyway, the path too dark to see clearly through. As soon as he opens the door, Damian hears the sounds of flighty footsteps and immediately plunges into the dim. He can see the figure now, a gangly and awkward excuse of a man running to the other end of the alley. Damian can sense Batman behind him in his pursuit, the comfort of backup strange. 

If this man, who they were chasing, was strong enough to incapacitate Nightwing, one of the best fighters in the world, then they may have a problem on their hands. 

Damian stops short though, almost falling onto his face as the gleam of ice appears in his peripherals. It catches the light of a dull and yellowing streetlamp, but it’s just enough to reflect onto the ice and reveal yet another figure, slumped over and unmoving.

Careful of the ice, Damian approaches cautiously, peering closely at the lump of mass laid against the brick wall. Batman keeps in pursuit, and soon, his cape disappears from the alley, determined to catch the fleeing perpetrator. Robin is alone now.

Taking out a flashlight from his belt, Damian directs its beam to the form and nearly gasps.

It’s Nightwing. Richard.

Immediately rushing closer, Damian is startled to see the sheer volume of blood weeping down the older man’s face, a stream of red that flows down his jaw and soaks the hemline of his suit. Taking in the situation, Damian sees the knocked over trash bin, a corner of the top suspiciously rust colored. Additionally, the ice patch that’s near the base of Richard’s feet, and the position he currently lays in, would suggest that Richard had fallen or been pushed over, slipping due to the ice. 

The amount of blood still flowing out of Nightwing is concerning, but if it was from a head wound, then it wouldn’t be surprising. As Richard liked to say, head trauma was the most dramatic trauma. 

The older man is unconscious, lips blue and face much paler than would be healthy. He doesn’t respond to Damian’s attempts at waking him up, including shining the flashlight directly into his eyes after peeling away his mask. However, in doing so, Damian also learns that Richard may be suffering from a concussion or worse, as his pupils barely contract when he passes the light back and forth.

“I have the suspect,” Batman says into the comms. “A teenager named Ben Purole. He claims he pushed Nightwing, resulting in him hitting his head on a garbage bin.”

Damian nods to himself, satisfied with the confirmation. “That is likely,” he responds, applying pressure to the now located head wound. “Nightwing is suffering from head trauma, perhaps a concussion, but appears to have no other wounds. He is bleeding and unconscious though. It would be wise to get him treated quickly.”

There’s a grunt on the other end to signal affirmation and less than twenty seconds later, Batman appears, carefully taking Nightwing into his arms and walking towards the Batmobile still parked at the entrance of the alley. Without prompting, Damian opens the side door, crawling in after Richard had been set to lay down.

The movement and sudden change in temperature seems to rouse him, a groan escaping his lips. Before Damian has properly fastened his seatbelt, the Batmobile is off, gliding easily across the icy roads. Father doesn’t like to drive fast during this kind of weather, though he knows the tires of the vehicle are built to grip onto slick surfaces, but there is a sense of urgency in the way he weaves between cars and runs lights.

“Wh’ happn?” Richard slurs from where his head rests in Damian’s lap.

“You were being brainless,” Damian responds, sniffing slightly, “and slipped gracelessly into a trash bin.”

“Skate?”

“No, you did not skate. What you did could hardly even be called falling. It was tasteless.”

“M’ head hurts.”

“Like I said,” Damian whispers, annoyance fading, “You fell. I believe your head collided with the edge of a metal bin.”

“Bleedin’?”

“Yes.”

“Con..concuss...con…”

“Yes, it is likely you have a concussion. You will be scanned when we arrive at the Cave to be sure.”

A moment of silence passes, nothing but the growl of the Batmobile’s engine to shake it.

“Richard?”

“Mmfph?”

“Are you… Are you alright?”

Two seconds.

“M’ cold.”

“Oh,” Damian says, slightly embarrassed. That was obvious, really. Why had he not provided a blanket yet? Or any sort of jacket or heat pad? Perhaps it was not just Richard being brainless tonight.

Gingerly, Damian shifts about, searching for anything that might provide warmth for the duration of the drive. He finds nothing though, the majority of their winter equipment most likely in the trunk. Richard’s lips are still blue and his shoulders shake in what might be shivers. His skin is cold to the touch, eyes squeezed shut and pained, and Damian cringes at the drying blood beginning to crack around his cheeks.

Now, Damian could provide multiple excuses for his next course of action. Not excuses, no, not that. He’d come to the reasonable conclusion that Richard was cold and may have hypothermia. There was also the conclusion that Richard most likely needed comfort, as he was still greatly disoriented and concussed. Damian’s actions were for the sole purpose of providing means of ensuring Richard’s safety as well, as even though Father was a good driver, one could never be too cautious, especially on such icy roads.

So, yes. Damian draping himself over Richard’s body in an awkward hug was purely for safety reasons. He intended to provide warmth with his own body heat and it was purely for Richard’s comfort. Nothing else. It was to help Richard. Damian did not need anything nor did he seek comfort. 

The hug was for survival reasons. Yes, survival. Exactly that.

Damian will never admit to the small smile that crept up his face when Richard hummed, a small and frozen grin of his own spreading.

The rest of the drive was spent in easy silence and when they arrived at the Cave, Tim and Alfred were waiting for them. By then, Dick had become slightly more coherent. Not exactly lucid, he still slurred his words just the slightest bit, but it was safe to conclude he was in no real danger.

Of course, as soon as he was cleared, Bruce took one last glance at Dick before heading back out again. Damian stayed in the Manor, watching his brother sleep on the cot they kept out for occasions like this. Dick had been given three blankets and a hot pack to hold onto. Hypothermia hadn’t set in, but the bright pink of his fingers and toes were a sign of future trouble if they didn’t immediately correct it.

Hours later, some time in the early morning when the sun had just barely begun to rise, did Bruce return. Alfred had sent both Tim and Damian back up to the Manor, a reprimand of something along the lines of, “Heaven forbid you two be the ones to catch a cold rather than Master Richard tonight,” shaming them enough to carry themselves to their respective rooms and settle in.

Taking off his cowl, Bruce’s eyes instantly travel to his eldest, still swamped with absurdly fluffy blankets and a ridiculous amount of pillows. He’s by his side in seconds, gazing at the color that had returned to Dick’s cheeks. Running a hand carefully through his son’s hair, Bruce frowns as he feels the familiar bumps of fresh stitches, his mouth pulling down further when he sees Dick’s brow twitch in irritation.

He keeps his hand there for a moment longer though, closing his eyes in what might be thankfulness. He’d left to check the garbage bin Dick had slammed into, scanning it for signs of rust or other ill-effects of time. Bruce had felt a surge of relief when he found no signs of oxidation in the metal, calling Alfred to tell him that tetanus was unlikely. Seeing Dick lay there, unresponsive and slurring, had scared Bruce more than he wanted to accept.

He’s a man always prepared for the worst, but never knowing what to do in the aftermath. That part of him that whispers his greatest fears screamed at him tonight, only subsiding once he’d returned. He was a coward, he knew this, but there was hardly anything else he could think to be.

“Bruce?”

He opens his eyes to look down, taking in the sight of his eldest son, rosy cheeked and smiling, no longer covered in red stains and frost. It was a good sight. A great sight. Bruce isn’t religious, but he might even call it a blessing.

“Hey, chum. How are you feeling?”

Dick responds by leaning into Bruce’s touch, content and warm. There’s a suspicious wetness building in the graying man’s eyes, but neither make a comment. It was rare, these moments between them. Far and few between, but appreciated nonetheless.

“I hate the cold,” Dick grumbles, sinking further into the mass of blankets. “Winter in Gotham sucks.”

As if on cue, a hearty sneeze erupts from out of Dick’s nose, startling the both of them. Dick sneezed like he was a married man with three children; purposely loud, dramatic, and with enough force to throw his back out. Bruce blinks, processing the sneeze and trying to decide if something like that was even meant to come out of a person, much less a concussed person. 

He needn’t think too hard about it though as a giggle, yes a giggle, makes itself known, filling the Cave with a lightness it doesn’t often experience. 

Dick is laughing and it’s one of the most beautiful things Bruce has ever heard, and he can’t help but chuckle too.

Gotham is cold, but the small med-bay felt like the warmest place in the world.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Ghosts’ Journey (End): The Biggest Assholes of Black Swan Bay

Because my Fanfic uses a blended version of the game and the original Black Swan Bay Lore, I had to reconfigure the relationships between the 3 Black Swan Bay surviving orphans as jolly rivals, friends and siblings. While their relationship is devoted and loving, growing up in an environment like that doesn’t create Polly-anna characters. I hope you agree and enjoy what I have created here.

The hardest thing about restraining emotions was controlling your breath.

Adrenaline shot liters of blood through your body at high rates and required you to breathe at high rates. If you didn’t, you could go dizzy or pass out.  Your heart quivered with her name and your vision went blurry. Renata… Renata!  The secret you learned was to yawn. A deep inhale, a big stretch and a slow exhale could effectively throw a wrench in the stress loop without blowing your cover. You blink rapidly to clear your eyes, finally let out a big, rude yawn and look completely bored, rubbing at them as though sleepy.

Renata was now Zero. She was likely in disguise to hide from Herzog.  It made sense for her to be after him too. She couldn't contact you but she was here now because your paths were always on the same trajectory.  It's just now that they happened to cross.

You were best friends in the past, but also rivals in combat. To those unaware of her abilities, you and Renata would be pretty evenly matched. But Renata had the skill of deep analysis. The longer you fought, the more she could analyze you and the more she analyzed you the less likely your chances of victory became. You would seem evenly matched and then she would just take you apart like you were an amateur.

She’d somehow survived the gunshot wound and the bombing. She’d somehow infiltrated Cassell and Hydra. Her Black Swan Bay training and behavior would have quickly made her disappear among the rank and file of Hydra. You felt it would have made it easy for you to get inside and fit with Hydra’s militaristic structure after all. That’s why when she talked about how deep she had made it into Hydra’s organization, you knew it had to be Renata.

 "In the opinion of Hydra, they are close to total victory. The remaining job is to get rid of the remnants of the Devil Clan, and the King General is, of course, the highest priority target for removal, with you being a close second.” Renata continues to speak to Chime with the cold robotic reality. “You once tried to kill the King General, but in the opinion of the Hydra family, it was just an internal fight. You are an evil spirit, you have long since violated the Clan rules, and the Hydra clan cannot tolerate someone like you." Zero stared into Chime’s eyes, "Your brother also believes that you have no need to exist in this world. He has seen the evil side of you with his own eyes."

"When you spell it all out like that, things do seem hopeless, don't they?" You turn to Renata as if she'd just lectured you like a schoolteacher. The sibling rivalry between two old friends warms up your heart and calms the panicked and fevered response of your sudden reunion. 

She thought she knew everything and she did know a lot. You were impressed yet again. Renata had spent all this time on the pulse of Hydra, but she didn’t understand Chisei the way Chime did. She shadowed Bondarev's puppet while you followed Herzog's puppet. And it was Herzog's puppet that was the key. You were third behind her, but that is an elite ranking that could shift and be challenged. 

You could not wait to hug her fiercely. But like most precious things in Black Swan, you would have to do so in secret. Her cold disheartening words to Chime reminded you of your rivalry and you wouldn’t be bested by throwing open your arms and sobbing like a naïve child.

“Although there is no proof, I will still do my best to convince my brother." Chime said slowly, "This is the only chance."

"You think we need his power?" Caesar asked.

"No, this is the only chance I have to reconcile with my brother." Chime said softly, "He was determined to be a friend of justice, so he couldn't accept his brother who was an evil spirit. For so many years, I never met with him again. Sometimes I hate him, but we are the only ones in the world who are truly family. Just because of my bloodline, he killed and abandoned me in a well? What in the world is more important than the fact that he is my brother and I am his brother? Justice? What is justice? I don't think there is any justice in this world. Those are just words that adults make up to fool children. But he believes that he can give up everything for the sake of justice. Is his kind of person just or ruthless?"

Everyone was silent, heavy with the sadness of his words. You couldn’t kill Chance even after he lost control. You only held out hope that he would snap back to normal. But Chisei killed him. Yes, you felt it was ruthless.  Not just. 

"But more than that, I was afraid to face him. I was afraid of the way he looked at me. That I made him feel dirty. I thought that I would never be my brother's friend, that I would only be his enemy. I have done more bad things than just the murder case in the village. I am the Dragon King of the Devil Clan, and I have the blood of many people on my hands. How can I go back to face him?

"But just today I suddenly figured out something. Why did I want to kill the King General so badly? It is not only because I hate him, but also because it's the only thing I can use to ask my brother for mercy. I wanted to cleanse my own mistakes with the blood of the King. Then maybe there could be a slight chance that I can become his fellow traveler again. But I failed. I can't do anything anymore nowadays. Ruri Kazama is still a useful person for my brother, Chime Gen is not. But even so, I still want to reconcile with my brother. I will tell him everything I know, and, as for my future, it is up to him to decide. If he decides to kill me, it will be the right end for me. I have killed so I will be killed, is there anything more fair in the world than that?"

You look up at him with uncertainty. He wasn’t thinking of throwing his life away was he? No. Chisei won’t kill him. Because… 

You suddenly understand where his train of thought was going. Chime was weaker but he was still very smart, able to weave his words to great effect, just like you.

 Chime bowed deeply: "Thank you for all your care these days. You did not treat me as a stranger. Except for you, only those girls who met me by chance would treat me as normal."

"Have you thought it over? If your brother really decides to execute you, Cassel Academy can't shelter you, Japan is your brother's territory." Caesar said to Chime with some concern.

"I have thought it over. It is true that the danger is great, but there are always people in this world with whom one has to reconcile no matter how much one hates them. Because without them, you will not even be able to talk about life."  Chime was silent, looking at Caesar, Chu Zihang, ‘Zero’, Lu Mingfei and Fingel. But there were no more questions. “And to that end, as a precaution, I would like to inform you that MC and I will wed tomorrow.”

Caesar’s eyebrows raise to his hairline. 

Lu Mingfei jumped up with his eyes wide at you. “What? You're marrying him? You hardly know each other!”

“That’s not the point.” ‘Zero’ grumbled, crossed her arms and looked away. She knew exactly what you were doing. Internally, you stick your tongue out at her.

Fingel was stunned and then he grinned. His arms shot up into the air. “YES!”

Caesar slowly mouthed the word ‘Wow’. “You were just waiting to throw that out there weren’t you, Chime? No wonder you're so confident.”

Chu Zihang nodded, though he seemed to be hesitant to completely endorse the plan. "At a celebration like that, it will be harder for him to reject you."

“Hey, don’t get us wrong. I love Chime. I don’t want to wait and I want things to go well. I’m sure you understand, Caesar.” You say, keeping your earnest character and trying not to cackle like a villain.

Lu Mingfei continued to sputter. “But… MC! Where are you getting married? You’re not planning on having a wedding in a … place like this?”

“Where else would I have it?” You blink at him.

“This place is.. Uh… well… it’s not very uh…”

“Pure?” You grin. “Well, Chime and I practically have the same father figure. So isn’t it kinda like marrying your step brother? Why would getting married in a women’s club be what you immediately point to as impure? If anything, it’s the cleanest part about this... in fact-”

Lu Mingfei clapped his hands over his ears. "I don’t want to hear any more!”

"MC,  be nice…" Caesar drawled. "So it's settled then?" Caesar tossed the car keys on the bar, "Tomorrow night right here, we negotiate with Gen Chisei at MC’s and Chime’s Wedding, which amounts to a negotiation between the Academy and Hydra."

"We can negotiate with the leader of the Hydra on behalf of the academy?" Chu Zihang frowned, "If we make any wrong decision, it will be counted against the academy."

"No, if we make any wrong decision, we can only bear the result ourselves." Caesar lit a cigar, took a deep puff and exhaled green smoke, "Everyone has to pay the price for what they do. If we believe in the wrong Gen brother, or if Chime’s judgement is wrong, the result has to be counted on us."

 "Zero said that the Hydra opened the Well of Bones, but until we find the sacred skeleton, it’s too early to confirm that the White King is really dead. That thing is different from any opponent we have encountered before. It lives by devouring souls. As long as humans still have greed for evolution, it can always find a way to resurrect." Chu Zihang said, "If the White King completely awakens, it is unknown whether Tokyo will survive. There are tens of millions of people in this city. Can we decide the course of history?"

Everyone was silent.

“A wedding that will decide the fate of the world? How dramatic!” You just smile at the thought of Herzog salivating over his grand entrance to such a momentous event and pull your hair back behind your ear. What a perfect trap for Herzog. 

"Let's think about it, if it was not us in this position, but the principal, what would he do?" Caesar suddenly said.

“'Hesitation will only leave more time for the opponent to prepare.'" Lu Mingfei said. "'Mistakes happen, but a hero who makes a mistake is still better than a fool who didn’t try.' I've heard him say this." 

Caesar took out a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet, poured it into glasses, and distributed a glass to each of you: "If Chime and MC can have the courage to meet Chisei Gen on the day of their wedding, then we should also have the courage to negotiate with the Hydra. I think we all are unanimous, right?"

"Since I'm the leader of this group, if we do something wrong, I'm the one most responsible." He drank the liquor in his cup in one go. 

Damn straight. If it weren’t for Caesar’s meddling and stopping you from running away, none of this would have happened! You take the whiskey and down it.

You would be counting on him to spring the trap for Herzog, but due to issues of ‘leaks’ you wouldn’t ask him what his plan was. He would take responsibility for that.

 Zero put down her glass: "You guys are sure you won't leave the nightclub now, right?"

“Yes, is there any question?" Caesar asked.

"Then call me an orthopedic surgeon, and I'll need a separate bedroom." Zero suddenly fell forward. The hand that had been gripping the edge of the bar was loosened. She had been relying on this hand to keep her balance, otherwise she wouldn't even be able to sit down.

Lu Mingfei swooped down to catch Zero. She was completely unconscious. The bandage covering her knee was soaked with blood.

"She's hurt badly! Damn it! We need to call the doctor!" Caesar untied the bandage and looked at it, frozen.

"There are metal fragments embedded in the bone!" Chu Zihang flicked on the light and did a brief examination.

It took everything in you not to run to her side. But Renata had made her statement clear. Reunions could happen later. She outranked you and you would obey out of both respect and the fact that she had carefully crafted this identity for who knows how long. You wouldn’t be a good friend of you ruined it.

 "She should have told us long ago that she has no sense of pain?" Caesar said.

No, Caesar, she was hurt this whole time, but once again, as a Black Swan Alum, she knew how to hide it. The nurses were cruel and merciless. If they were in the right mood, they would look for a child to beat to take it out on them and hear them cry. But because Renata and you learned to never cry, they would quickly grow bored of you. Eventually, they learned that it was useless to beat you and wouldn’t bother.

Renata adapted by just suffering without expression. You adapted by joking around with your tormentors until they laughed. Once they were laughing, their beatings would lose their ferocity and even stop completely. So Caesar could be forgiven for not sensing that Renata was close to passing out.

“Is she a friend of yours?” Chime was close to you. 

Your eyes were fixed on the scene before you and there was some tension in your hand as it held the glass. You loosened your grip and looked away. “No. I don’t know her.”

“She must be sent to the hospital!" Caesar said, "A wound like that has to be treated immediately, I'll drive."

"No, it's best not to move her and we shouldn’t leave the safehouse. Call an orthopedic surgeon like she asked.” You say loudly, commandingly. 

Everyone turned to you. Your voice and your demeanor suddenly resembled Zero’s! And even though you only met her for a few seconds, you were immediately deferring to her orders over Caesar’s!

Chu Zihang agreed, "In this case she has to lie flat immediately, the metal fragments are grinding her bones."

 "Why didn't you tell me earlier when the injury was so serious?" Lu Mingfei propped Zero up so she could lie flat on the sofa. 

You stare in shock.

Renata hated being touched by people she didn’t know! You were fine and Z was fine. Did Renata know Z’s brother? She had to. Even in her weakened state, if any of the others held her close like that, she’d knock them out!

"I had to make sure you wouldn't evacuate immediately. If you were going to leave, I'd still have to walk, and that wouldn't leave me time to see a doctor." Zero opened her eyes slightly. "I can't be useless. Useless people will be left behind."

You smile and duck your head as she recites Z’s little mantra. You had a lot to say to that girl. But now was not the time.

You get back to your room and it’s nearly 4 am. You can’t believe how much of a nightowl you were becoming. You wanted badly to talk to Z and give him a piece of your mind, but you hadn’t had time to look for the last bug in your room. Fingel was still recording everything you did in this space. So Z would not appear here. You put on Swan Lake again, sit down with a glass of vodka, and prop a cigar on the ashtray. You light it to smell the sweet tobacco smoke.

When Hydra researched you, they only found you were a ‘Siberian girl’ and did their best to make your room that of a Siberian girl. But Mingfei said that your world was composed of the people you know. And one of those people was Dr. Herzog. That’s why the smell of tobacco was relaxing. It was what relaxed you around Caesar… and the smell of it attracted you to Ruri Kazama and Chime.  You lift the glass if fine spirit. “Hm… A toast?”

Renata was here, you were here, Z was here. You’d imagined that they were all ghosts and you were just being emotional when you felt their presence. But they had all been here this whole time! Z had carefully hidden Renata from you and refused to give you much information. After all, you were still a low ranker. It was likely that Renata knew you were here too! Those jerks. You can almost see their smug, haughty, loving faces. You let out a soft little hiss and stand up again and pull two more chairs from the dining room table into the sitting room. Their ghosts sat down in the chairs.

“That’s better.”

With the ghostly figures of Z and Renata in your mind, in this secret place, everyone knew each other and deep down you feel the warmth of home for the first time. “As I was saying,” you raise your glass again. “Raise a toast!” You look at them all and shake your head. “To the glorious and bloody wedding! And… to the biggest assholes of Black Swan Bay!” You laugh and down shot after shot, not caring that Fingel was listening.

[vanillann]

flashback v (spencer reid x f.reader)

warning: swearing, mentions of crime, metaions of verbal and light abuse(nothing major i promise) and slow burn

word count: 1.8k

flashback masterlist

Penelope and I stood outside the steel doors of Star Chambers, both of us looking back at the black van parked a decent distance away.

“Okay, hit the blue button now,” Penelope spoke to the two men inside our ears, literally.

“Okay baby girl, you both stay safe in there.”

I went to open the door, Pen placed her hand over mine. I looked over at her counting out loud. After seeing said 10, she nodded to me to open the large door.

As soon as the doors opened, the light from outside flooded the dark room. Computers sat around the entire room, a small laughing sugar skull on each one.

Pen and I marched in, confidence in our walk. I felt like I was lying because there wasn’t a bit of confidence in me. Shane stood at the end of the room, his face morphing into a proud smirk.

The sound of Beyoncé played in the background, Pen and I stopped in front of Shane.

Suddenly Pen snapped her fingers and the doors behind us close. I forget how good at this shit we used to be.

Everyone in the room sat quickly, watching us from their seats. Suddenly Shane started clapping, his smirk growing as he walked closer to us.

“Wow, you lost weight.”

The first thing that Shane said to us and I was already going to knock his brains out.

“Nice one.”

Shane turned to look at me, his smirk growing larger which I didn’t think was possible.

“Little step-sissy hasn’t changed one bit, typical.”

“You wish I was typical.”

He turned back to Pen, walking closer so he was right in her face.

“Miss me?”

Pen paused, waiting a few seconds before she spoke.

“No.”

I felt my hand fly up to the end of the sweater, trying to remember the feeling of safety.

“Then prove it.”

Shane went to grab Pen chin, she started moving her face closer until she turned her head at the last second.

I didn’t move, but I was definitely doing a happy dance in my head.

She walked closer to a nearby hacker. As soon as she stood in front of him he stood up.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Pen spoke as she put her hands on either side of his face. He only smiled and nodded quickly.

She then gently placed her red lips on his, the sound of a light moan fell from his lips.

I suddenly felt bad for Morgan and Spencer, since they were closer to the action than I was and they weren’t even in the room.

She then forcefully removed her lips from the shorter boy, his face held nothing but bliss.

Shane tapped his foot, looking at the two un jealousy. I looked back at the two to see the hacker boy watching me closely.

“Not look at me, I’m not getting mono.”

I heard a loud cough in my ear but I ignored it, turned back to look at Shane.

Pen stood up straight, getting back into Shane’s face.

“Us three have a lot to talk about.”

Shane looked down at her lips before looking back into her eyes.

“Yes we do.”

I walked up to the two, throwing my arms over their shoulders.

“Then let's get to talking kiddos.”

Shane nodded his head, every hacker in the room left. I sat down in the chair the hacker boy Pen made out with just had. Once every one left Shane pulled up a seat while Open sat in one not far from me.

“Why’d you take the Sam Russell file?”

I didn’t waste any time, wanting nothing more than to be in the back of the van listening to Pen crazy metaphors and Spencer new facts. I wanted to hear Derek making fun of me in a sweater and plaid skirt.

“That stupid profile thing that you do was wrong.”

I felt myself roll my eyes, him looking at me like we used to when we were kids.

Those memories came flooding back quickly. The way we used to throw lamps at each other, brushing off as a basic sibling fight.

The way he used to look at me in my room until I “figured out how to stop being a brat”.

The way he used to playPen for everything that happened, then as soon as she started crying he took out his camera and recorded.

I felt myself pull harder on the yarn at the end of my jacket, my foot tapping on the stone floor.

“Just give us back the file,” I heard Pen yell, but she sounded so far away.

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, watching Shane quickly stand from the chair. I felt myself pull closer into myself, scared what might happen next.

“I refuse to work with the FBI,” Shane said, walking behind his desk.

“This isn’t about Sam Russell, this is about doing the right thing,” I spoke softly, the old me was taking over again.

“Shut up, the adults are talking,” Shane yelled, gripping onto one of the metal tables.

I wanted to hide, I wanted to run out of this room and into that black van outside.

“This is sure to give me a lot of flashbacks.”

I didn’t even think before the word fell out of my mouth, needing some familiarity to overthrow everything.

I heard shuffling my ear, and suddenly the sound of Spencer clearing his throat brought me back to reality.

“Did you know the only letter that doesn’t appear on the periodic table is J.”

I watched a Pen didn’t make any more or a reaction to Spencer speaking in my ear. I knew he must have shut it off so only I could hear, which made everything feel so much more intimate.

I smiled to myself, Spencer waiting for a sign to stop.

I whisper so quietly I didn’t think Spencer could hear, but once I heard a “anytime” I knew he understood.

“I took the file because your little friends missed almost everything, maybe like the silent partner.”

Shane spoke quickly, pointing his finger in between the both of us.

“We’ve already gone over that theory.”

I knew I was lying, I knew everyone threw that away as fast as it came through the door, but I also knew Shane was a narcissist and if I gave in, I could get somewhere.

“Bullshit sissy,” he gritted his teeth as he walked closer to me. I stood up from my chair, brought to him.

“You didn’t know shit about the inside killer, I know you couldn’t figure that out.”

Shane was swinging his hands all over the place, drawing pictures in the sky.

“You wouldn’t know, you’re stuck in an underground lair like you’re a Disney villain or something.”

Suddenly a hand grabbed my shoulder, pushing Shane and I away from each other.

“Can we all talk like normal people for a minute.”

Shane only nodded, walking to the other side of the room as me.

“How’s your birth dad doing?”

Pen looked him up and down, sympathy in her voice.

“He died seven years ago.”

I hated Shane, but I felt my heartbreak for him a little. I knew he loved his father, he meant a lot to him.

“I posted about it, neither of you said a word.”

I looked down at my flats, the guilt seating in quickly.

“When we both joined the FBI they told us we couldn’t have contact with you anymore,” Pen answered, placing a light touch to his arm.

“Then why didn’t you do it.”

Shane stepped back into her face, I felt myself walk closer to him.

“I got us caught,” I spoke, his eyes turning from her to me.

“You got caught? Come on I know we don’t get along but I know you are smarter than to get caught.”

I felt myself roll my eyes, the whole situation was getting to me again.

“I didn’t know the FBI would show up, they tracked Pen through my phone.”

“Actually, I went to the station,” Pen turned to me with soft eyes.

“Huh?”

Shane smirked while he looked me in the eye.

“She was too scared to stay with me so he ran after you, knowing she’d get caught.”

“I wanted a different life, I wanted my best friend and I to be able to do something that was illegal all the time.”

I felt myself laugh, the memories of everything we needed in those years were illegal, but we alway made it work.

“Well aren’t you both doing better, baby girl.”

I felt myself step back as she walked back to his desk.

“Oh and let’s not forget Mr. “Did you know”, I hope your kids don’t come out wearing sweater vests.”

I felt the anger boil inside me, the idea of him talking about Spencer made me want to go back to throwing laps.

“Shit.”

I heard Morgan's voice in my ear, the realization of everything was kicking in.

“It’s not like that, you don’t understand the phrase,” Pen was quick to jump at Shane, trying to make him understand.

“It’s a friendship, all of it was.”

I felt my heart break, even saying those words in a dangerous situation felt wrong.

“Oh I saw text, it seems the guy you both are sleeping with are miracle workers.”

Shane slammed his hands on the table in front, looking over both of us.

“Because he somehow broke the strongest and smartest woman I ever met in my life and ruined her.,” he said pointing his finger at Pen.

“And Mr. Smarty Pants managed to turn my sweet step-sister into a cold blooded bitch.”

“Oh you want to see a bitch,” I started marching to him before Pen grabbed my upper arm and held me in place.

“We aren’t sleeping with them.”

“Well then I guess you vandalized yourself, which is ten times worse.”

I felt Pen's grip tighten one my, her eyes from liking with tears.

“You aren’t the two I saw as my family.”

“You don’t treat people you see as family like shit, get it right.”

I turned around and stormed out the large building, the sun shining down on the thick sweater. I didn’t wait for Pen and I threw the back of the van open and sat on the bench.

I didn’t do anything as Morgan or Reid spoke to me, the anger building up inside me was too much. I saw Pen join us in the back of the van, her eyes overflowing with tears.

She closed the door behind her and fell into Morgan’s arms, he sobbing took the back of the van.

“You aren’t a bitch,” Spencer said gently from beside me.

“No I am, but that’s the exact trait that's going to let me catch this asshat.”

part iv part vi

cm tag list:

@itsarayofsunshine

flashback tag list:

@summer-writes @snitchthewitch @mortallythoughtfulgurl @l0ve-0f-my-life @101donuts @siwiecola @eldahae @hot-mess-express99 @itlittlefangirl @afuckingshituniverse @mollygetssherlockcoffee @tinylumpiaa @kermitsaysgayrights @matthewreid

[stovetuna]

Stony for 30 or 40? I LOVE U SO MUCH UR FICS GIVE ME LIFE 💛💛👏

AHHHH YAY LIFE!!! you and an anon both requested #30, so here’s some classic tony!angst and protective!steve :3 — I PROMISE THERE IS A VERY MUSHY, VERY HAPPY ENDING

#30: “You’re not worth it.” (TW: child abuse, references to alcoholism, Howard being a shitty human being [but what else is new]) 

***

It’s Wednesday, and Wednesday means movie night at the mansion. A time-honored tradition that goes all the way back to the Avengers’ inception, back when Steve was still finding his way out of the ice—literally and figuratively—and Iron Man and Tony Stark were two different people. 

It’s been a long time since those early days, Tony thinks, watching the new team assemble on the couches, loveseats, beanbag chairs, and blankets strewn around the in-home movie theater. The screen isn’t excessively massive, per Steve’s wishes, but the sound is as good as it gets, per Clint’s; Tony updates the hardware year over year to keep up with the times, especially as film goes the way of digital (much to Steve’s chagrin). 

But tonight is Steve’s pick for movie, and Tony wonders if it was planned that way the moment Luke Cage asks what they’re going to watch and Steve gets that glint in his eye. The one that Tony can recognize from a mile away now without even trying, the one that screams “Steve Rogers is a little shit” and that very few people seem to be able to hear. 

Tony groans the moment Steve grins and says, “Home movies!” while revealing two armfuls of reels from behind his back, some of which are so dusty and small, Tony wonders if they’re Steve’s. 

The team settles in with enough snacks to put a rhino in a coma while Tony and Steve head to the back of the room where the vintage projector Tony pulled out of storage for the occasion awaits. 

“Next week, you can pick the movie,” Steve whispers conspiratorially, bumping Tony with a friendly elbow. Tony has to hold himself back from leaning into Steve in response, the way his body feels primed to do and has done for literal years, ever since—god, since always. But Tony knows his interest and affections are very much one-sided, and Tony doesn’t need to flagellate himself over it any more than he already does with everything else in his life. Plus, watching Steve with each of his girlfriends is more than taxing enough.

He’s had years of practice keeping his feelings for Steve from the man. He can handle an elbow and a wink. That shit’s practically child’s play. 

“If footage from my sweet sixteen made it into this lineup, we’re watching all three Die Hards,” Tony replies with a saccharine smile that makes Steve blanch. 

“Tony, no.” 

“Tony, yes.”

“The last time we watched Die Hard, Clint wouldn’t stop talking with a fake German accent for a week.” 

“I know! It was hilarious, and I want to get it on camera this time so I can send it to Alan Rickman. He’ll hate it.” 

Tony giggles at Steve’s huff, which is really a laugh disguised as exasperation, another one of Steve’s tics Tony knows by heart. The pain and joy of knowing that secretly splits Tony right down the middle—the joy of knowing Steve is a much bigger troll than anyone realizes, the pain of wanting to grab him and kiss him for it—but he hides it all with an elbow to Steve’s ribs and a muttered “jerk” under his breath. 

He’s spent the past ten years and change like this—halved by a love that makes him feel whole, which is an equation that shouldn’t work, but does, because Tony’s math is always right—so what’s one more night? In the grand scheme of things, not much, and every second of it is more than Tony could have ever hoped for. 

Together in the darkest part of the room he and Steve work in tandem to load the first reel onto the projector and let it run: it’s early footage of the first Avengers team, recorded off of a news broadcast. Down in front, the rest of the team throws popcorn and jeers, laughing themselves hoarse at the costumes, the villains, the dialogue—“‘He’s a real ball of fire!’” Clint wheezes from his beanbag before Natasha pelts him with Milk Duds—while Steve and Tony sit back behind the projector, shoulder to shoulder, running their own private commentary all the while:  

“I miss that armor.”

“Shut up, no you don’t.” 

“It’s true! Anyways, isn’t vintage all the rage these days? You should bring it back.” 

“I’m not bringing back Pointy-Faced Iron Man and his Roller Skates of Doom, Cap.” 

“Not even for me?” 

Tony slides Steve a look out of the corner of his eye, face still directed toward the screen, a classic are you fucking kidding me? if there ever was one. Steve bats his eyelashes in response, because of course he does. Unfortunately for Steve, Tony is mostly immune to that tactic by now. 

Mostly. 

“Let us watch Die Hard next week and I’ll consider it.” 

“Ugh, Tony…”

“Hey, heart-eyes! Next reel!” someone (see: Bucky) shouts. Not for the first time, Tony’s glad to be concealed in relative darkness back here—even Steve’s enhanced vision won’t be able to make out the blush Tony’s knows is all over his face right now. He also gets a reprieve from sitting so close to Steve, hyperfocused on his warmth and all of the sensory trappings of home that come with it, while he swaps out the old reel for a new one. New-er, rather. He doesn’t look at the case or look at any frames before feeding it through the projector. 

“Alright, you rabble-rousers, pipe down,” he shouts as the image on screen flickers to life. 

“‘Rabble-rousers’?” Steve quirks an eyebrow at him as he sits back down. Tony folds his arms over his chest and shushes him. 

“Don’t start.”

“Ooh, is that you, Tony?” Wanda coos from her place on the loveseat next to Vision. 

“Look at all of that hair! Danny Zuko’s got nothing on you, Stark,” Clint laughs. Tony nails him with a popcorn kernel right in the ear.

The footage unspools, harmless—albeit embarrassing—at first: it’s a home movie from when Tony was young, no more than eight or nine. He’s wearing what looks like the remains of what was once a nice suit, something his parents forced him into, probably, but devolved into undershirt and slacks and suspenders hanging down past his knees. He really was a gangly kid, wasn’t he? 

Tony laughs along with everyone else, warmed by Jarvis’ voice offscreen telling “Young Master Anthony” to show off his latest invention for the camera. He feels Steve’s eyes flicker over to land on him whenever young Tony smiles at the camera or laughs at something Jarvis says, but Tony ignores it. Mostly.

“He reminds me of Steve,” Bucky tells the room when young Tony is shown with a replica of Cap’s shield, posing triumphantly to the sound of Jarvis’ delighted laughter. Jess aww’s. 

“He does, kinda, doesn’t he?” 

“How have I never seen these before?” Steve whispers, leaning closer as he does. Tony swallows hard against the shiver that ricochets down his spine hearing that low voice in his ear. 

“A lot of things of mine you haven’t seen, Cap,” he replies, too late to stop the innuendo from slipping out. He looks at Steve after he says it and almost, almost lets out a gasp: when did Steve get so close? And why is he looking at Tony like that? All intense and considering? 

“Oh, here’s someone else I remember,” Bucky laughs. Tony turns away from Steve, grateful for the excuse, and starts to release the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

It gets caught in his chest the moment he sees himself filling up the screen, young Tony standing alone in Howard’s office, having perched the camcorder on the big oak desk to record himself with Cap’s shield—the real one this time, not a toy. On screen, Tony has his back to the camera, the vibranium shield clutched in his too-small hands. He has to perch it on the floor, its weight just enough to counterbalance Tony’s, but holding it…even now, he remembers the thrill of that first time. The cool touch of vibranium humming under his fingers, the knowledge that he was holding his hero’s greatest treasure…his adult fingers clench against his thighs at the memory. 

But then, the image shifts into a sharper memory still, and Tony feels something old and awful claw its way from somewhere deep in his chest, remembering all too well what comes next. It tastes like bourbon and cigar smoke and the metallic taste blood leaves on the tongue after you’ve been smacked in the mouth. Tony’s hands fly out to clutch the sides of his chair and stick there; he can’t move them to stop the projector in time. It just keeps playing out, each frame worse than the one before. 

Of course he remembers this moment. He remembers it perfectly, because it was the first time Howard really hurt him. Not with his hands, although the bruises did linger longer than usual, after. 

This was the moment when Tony, so tender and impressionable even at that “advanced” age, learned what his father really thought of him. 

That old, awful feeling feels a lot like drowning when he thinks of Steve seeing what’s about to happen, let alone the rest of the team.

“I’m Captain America and I’m here to save you!”

“You’re not saving shit, boy.” Howard stumbles into frame like a bad Vaudeville performer, slurring Tony’s name like an expletive. “Put that down, you fucking brat. You’re not worth it.” 

The blood rushing in Tony’s ears drowns out the sound of voices past and present. All he can see is Howard filling the frame in that horrible tan suit, gripping a bottle of bourbon by the neck. The image catches on young Tony’s terrified expression, the way he hides behind the shield that’s almost as big as he is. He watches his own mouth move—Cap will save me, he’d cried, so confident, so certain that his hero would come and put Howard through the wall and carry Tony away to safety—and then down the bottle comes…

“Turn it off! I said turn it off!” 

Something hits the projector hard enough to not only knock it off the table it was sitting on, but send both hurtling across the room. They smash to pieces against the far wall with a noisy clatter that almost stops Tony’s heart in his chest. 

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the thwap-thwap-thwap of film smacking the floor as the reel spins on and on until coming to a feeble stop. He can hear breathing, heavy and labored and sliding quickly toward panic, and he realizes with a shuddering gasp that it’s him making that sound.

Tony looks up and sees Steve standing where the projector once was, cradling his bleeding hand. The man looks stricken, pale and horrified, worse than if he’d seen a ghost; behind him, the team has inched closer, all of them wearing varying expressions of distress and pity and guilt and sadness, and suddenly Tony can’t bolt out of his chair fast enough. He can’t get away fast enough. He follows his feet out of the room into the corridor and down, down, down to the workshop where it’s safe, where he can’t get in, no one can, not unless Tony lets them. 

Someone is calling his name, but Tony disappears down the stairs before he can figure out who. He bursts through doors he can’t see and staggers over to the closest workbench, sucking in deep, ragged breaths like he can’t catch up to them. Is that a screw loose in his chest cavity, he wonders, gasping, because that rattling sound seems to indicate something has come undone that shouldn’t have. Howard’s dead, Tony reminds himself, over and over again. It’s a fact as true as any algorithm, so why won’t it take? 

JARVIS’s voice moves gently through the noise in Tony’s brain: “Sir, Captain Rogers is asking permission to enter.” 

Steve. 

Tony can’t decide if the thought of Steve seeing him like this helps or worsens the rattling in his chest. Either way he feels like shit, but only one of those ways ends up with Captain America pitying him, or worse. 

He’s so caught up in thinking about all the ways this could backfire he doesn’t realize JARVIS has let Steve into the workshop, regardless of Tony’s feelings on the matter. The realization sets in when Steve’s voice appears close to his ear, soft and low with a frisson of urgency, like he too is slightly out of breath. 

“Tony, it’s just me. It’s okay. I’m going to put my hand on your back.” 

Warmth spreads from Steve’s fingers through Tony’s shirt and into the skin high up on his back between his shoulders. Steve can probably feel how fast Tony’s heart is racing, but spares him his overt concern and instead keeps telling Tony what he’s going to do before he does it: a hand on Tony’s forehead, an arm around his back, asking JARVIS to turn the lights down to thirty-five percent. 

“I’ve got you, it’s okay.” 

Tony sags into Steve’s touch, his large, warm hand cradling Tony’s head like something precious; the deeper dark quiets the room around them, makes it less overwhelming, less full of ghosts waiting to cast their own opaque shadows on the empty walls. Tony and Steve are left standing in a dim light Tony knows makes him look sallow; he wavers on his feet, left to borrow from Steve’s strength because he can’t find his own. Lucky for Tony, Steve is right there, braced and ready for anything. Like always.

The rattling has settled somewhat, but Tony still has to rely on Steve to tell him when to breathe and how deeply. He forgets, sometimes, that Steve has experience dealing with panic attacks, which so often came before an asthma attack. Steve once told him that even years removed from his sickly days, he still remembers what it’s like to lose that grip on reality, feeling the heart too acutely as it beats against too-brittle ribs.

While Steve draws on those memories often enough with others on the team, it’s a rare occasion for Tony to be on the receiving end of Steve’s nursing hand like this. Jokes or angry silence over cuts, breaks, and bruises, sure, but this? Tender hands and a voice pitched low and soothing, lullaby-soft, speaking words of gentle encouragement? Tony’s head feels light with it. 

“Do you want to sit down?” Steve asks. Tony shakes his head against his palm. “Okay,” Steve whispers, his voice the only one in the room, which makes for a funny kind of one-sided conversation. Then, before he can think better of it, Tony turns toward Steve, wraps his arms around the man’s impossible waist, and hugs himself close to Steve’s radiating heat. He’s too gone for shame, and too weak; a soft, gentle Steve is hard to resist, even on good days. And this just became a no good, very bad day.

Fucking Howard.

Steve, for his part, takes the hug in stride like they do it every day. Tony likes to imagine it, touching Steve like this whenever he wants to, but that’s all it is—a fantasy. Just like being with Steve is a fantasy, one Tony has entertained for far too many years to count. He satisfies himself with Steve’s friendship, tells himself it’s enough, and if he happens to sleep with the occasional look-alike, that’s nobody’s business but Tony’s (and JARVIS’s, and in one deeply unfortunate instance, Pepper’s). 

Strangers want Tony Stark, the celebrity; Steve wants Tony as a friend and teammate. That’s all. So Tony steals his nice, platonic hug as he trembles and breathes his way out of a panic attack, being careful to avoid nuzzling the soft notch at the base of Steve’s throat the way he wants to. Badly.

He’s so preoccupied with holding all the disparate parts of himself together and hiding them so Steve can’t see, he doesn’t notice Steve’s hands start to rub his back in long, soothing strokes until Tony is half-melted in his steady arms, weak-kneed at how comforted he feels. Steve doesn’t say anything—just keeps moving his hands, up and down Tony’s back, across his shoulders, along his arms, and over again. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this, without motive, ulterior or otherwise; his skin feels warm down to his toes.

“Better?” Steve murmurs. Tony nods against his chest. He doesn’t let go. Neither does Steve, who seems to fold himself over Tony until they’re more like one person than two, standing there breathing together in Tony’s darkened workshop. 

Slowly, thoughts of Howard, of hurt, start to melt back into the shadows. In their place is Steve, filling up all of Tony’s empty spaces with light, even some of the ones he didn’t know he had. For such a strong man, Steve is unbearably gentle, handling Tony the way he might handle spun sugar or thin glass. Tony has never felt so genuinely cared for, and the fact that he can’t pull back and thank Steve with a kiss smarts a little in the face of it. 

That is, it does, up until the moment he feels Steve brush a kiss against where Tony’s hairline meets his forehead, soft and uncomplicated, but lingering, like Steve wants to stay there. To do more. Tony knows that move because he’s imagined doing the exact same thing to Steve, god, thousands of times.

Tony wants so much. Too much. Asking Steve for this would tip things precariously toward the latter. But the question is taken out of Tony’s hands the moment one of Steve’s perches itself under his jaw and tilts his face up.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. 

“It’s ancient history,” Tony replies, maintaining eye contact through sheer willpower when all he wants to do is look at Steve’s mouth, now so close to his. 

“Not to you, it isn’t,” Steve counters, and there’s not much Tony can say to that. “I’ll talk to the team. They might have questions, and you shouldn’t have to answer them. Not tonight, anyways.” 

“I know you’ve got big shoulders, Steve, but you don’t have to take on my baggage on top of everything else.”

As they talk, their bodies never move an inch apart; chests pressed flush against each other, Steve’s fingers splayed along the side of Tony’s neck. All of it—the proximity, the tenderness, the intimacy—feels as natural as the breathing they just did together. Ten-plus years of friendship will do that. But then, the way Steve is looking at him doesn’t really scream friendship. 

It kind of screams I love you. 

Steve gives him that little smirk and says, “Maybe I want to.” Tony scoffs, flicking one of the shoulders in question for good measure. 

“God, how are you still such a horrible liar, Cap? Is there something in the serum that makes it impossible for you to keep a good poker face?”

“This is my good poker face,” Steve replies, and there it is again, the same look Steve gave him earlier before the night spun out like a race car with its wheels blown off: intense, considering, and so, so close. 

Tony swallows nothing but air. Steve, never breaking eye contact, cards his fingers through the hair on the back of Tony’s head and holds them there. 

“If I kiss you right now, will you have another panic attack?” he asks quietly. Not even a blink. The part of Tony’s brain—a scant centimeter, at best—that isn’t currently blasting a hundred sirens at full volume is actually kind of impressed.

“I doubt it,” Tony replies evenly. “I’ll probably just pass out.” 

The smirk becomes a full-blown grin. Steve squeezes his other arm around Tony’s lower back and hums, deep and resonant, in his chest as he leans down to brush his lips feather-softly against Tony’s. 

“You fall, I’ll catch you,” he whispers before dipping in for a proper kiss that floods Tony’s head with incandescent light. It’s chaste and measured and burning with mutual restraint, tastes faintly of the buttered popcorn Steve ate earlier, and the only way it could be better is if it never ended. 

Tony tightens his arms around Steve’s waist, and when Steve pulls away to speak, he doesn’t go far, seemingly content to stand there in Tony’s embrace in the middle of the dimly lit workshop. 

“Still breathing?” he asks. Tony smiles; Steve smiles back. 

“Takes a lot more than that to knock the wind out of me, Cap.”

The way Steve’s eyes darken at that little remark is definitely something Tony intends to investigate further, later. For now, he leans into the hand now resting on his cheek and sighs. 

“We’ll test that theory another time,” Steve husks before leaning forward to press a kiss to each eyelid. Tony hums happily, sinking further into Steve’s arms. “Can I carry you to bed?” 

Tony gives him a look. “I’m heavy,” he says. 

Steve just smiles, kisses Tony like he’s been doing it forever, and replies: “You’re worth it.”

- - - 

see? happy endings. fuck howard. 

[plztumb1rhelpmegetoveranxiety]

THE IT TOOK FOREVER, BUT THE PROMISED LONG ASS (vigilante) BAKUSQUAD POST.

This has over 1,000 words and it's basically just me ranting about a new idea I had. Warning: Grammar doesn't exist in my rants.

If you didn't think I was obsessed with vigilantes before... vigilante Bakusquad. They all started in the hero course and it splits off cannon sometime after the sports festival. (Non-cannon additions to their quirks and crappy descriptions of gore ahead. And bumping up the character development speed for the sake of this au + by the time they get to the sports festival they're all almost as close as they are now. + x2 this is just about how they got out of U.A. If I ever write this properly a lot more details will be on other parts mildly mentioned here. + x3 Trans Denki with an LGBTphobic family.)

Bakugou is the first to get expelled less than a week after the festival. Midnight was actually the one to suggest it, after the people saw how Bakugou acted favor for the school went down. Nezu thinking for the sake of his school decided it would be best to expel him, but they would need to come up for a reason to because he was so popular in the media by now.

So shortly after that, instead of going to any of the teachers, Nezu goes live on one of the school's media pages announcing his expulsion due to "behaviours simmilar to the wanted villain Tomura Shigaraki." That same day Bakugou was pulled aside by Aizawa because he was showing signs of being a victim of domestic abuse.

"That old hag hits me and yells and I yell back! That's not abuse, it's always been like that!"

Aizawa eventually gets him to break down and confess everything and he offers to take it up with the police. Bakugou only agrees after Aizawa says he would not mention their conversation to the authorities. He ends up walking Bakugou the exit to talk more about it only to discover Nezu and the press there telling Bakugou never to come back. He's basically run out while Aizawa's trying to stop it only to be held back by Midnight.

---

Aizawa put in his resignation form that night. Effective at the end of the school year.

---

Next to go was Mina, and she knew damn well what was actually going on. See, Mina actually looked up to Midnight and had her as a favorite teacher. Gossip is also both Mina's biggest talent and weakness.

She made a hero gossip blog when she was around 12. Mina wanted a page she could hear all the latest drama on, but with actual sources and a neutral argument. So she made it herself. It's relatively big now and she's made online friends who proof read most of the articles she prepares to post.

With how much Mina looked up to Midnight she wanted to have her double check an article Mina was planning to post about her. She'd printed out a copy to go show her and when she heard Midnight was in the principal's office things went down hill from there.

Sitting outside of Nezu's office door she heard everything. And recorded everything. Her biggest regret is not having been able to tell Bakugou.

After she heard everything she found herself running to the bathroom and throwing up anything in her system. To her misfortune that was also Recovery Girl's break. She was sent home for the rest of the week with how violently she was vomiting.

Needless to say the article was done before dawn the next day and forwarded to all her online friends.

Come Monday and Mina had over 30 printed copies in her backpack. Her post also had tens of thousands of shares. The day was a mess she just barely managed to give Kirishima a copy when there wasn't any pro "heros" around.

Midnight's class was the worst. Mina flinched nearly every time she spoke, worried that she was already found out. Spoiler alert: she was.

When training finally rolled around she was lucky to be grouped with the rest of the squad along with a few others. It revolved around a hostage situation. Three people were supposed to sneak in (Mina, Kirishima, Sero) while the rest (Kaminari, Shoji, Uraraka, and Koda) were supposed to distract the teacher playing as a captor.

Mina had just disintegrated a door when a shout from their captor (Present Mic) had her spinning around to look out a window. Her legs started to move, but her feet didn't and she started to fall. Just as she was falling she saw it was Mic yelling at Midnight. It's all fine, Mina caught herself with her elbow, her hand flashed up into her face, too. Mic was only yelling. She was screaming. Her right eye felt like it was burning up, it hurt. Only her skin had any sort of immunity. By the time Sero was pulling her up with his tape Mina was already passed out.

She didn't even remember the hospital. Her parents pulled her out of school with advice from the school. Her quirk was put on registry as dangerous and unstable.

The doctors couldn't do anything to save her right eye. Her family couldn't afford to keep Mina in school and pay for the medical help on her eye.

---

Within three weeks she ran away from home.

---

In the time it took Mina to run away Kaminari was put on a warning list and the third to be expelled without talking to Aizawa.

It wasn't public like Bakugou's and it wasn't like Mina's because it was multiple incidents. Sneezing in the pool and losing control of his quirk leaving it unusable for days (only m*neta was harmed), accidentally taking power away from parts ofbthe school multiple times, still overusing his quirk almost daily.

When the school decided detention wasn't enough they pulled him aside to tell him the truth. He was told on a Tuesday that he wasn't to return after the weekend.

At this time Kiri, Kami, and Sero had been trying and failing to get in touch with Bakugou and Mina. They had been doing the same thing for Bakugou when Mina was there, too.

Kaminari tried to go to Sero and Kirishima (Kiri had forgotten about the papers Mina gave him) about his expulsion. He was worried what his family would do.

---

Saturday morning the Kaminari household's adults were found unconscious with blunt force wounds. The blood of every family member was found at the scene. The son was missing and assumed kidnapped.

---

Sero was the only one who seemed to leave willingly. After Sero's defeat at the sport's festival that turned to all he was referenced as (outside of other students).

But during an internship the hero he was working under suggested Sero might be better as an underground hero. When Sero said he might consider it, the pro hero suggested a school specifically for future underground heros. It was one they went to briefly before changing and said they would put a good word in for Sero if he ever chose to change.

After the internship he sent an email to the hero asking if he could hold up his promise.

He was transferred shortly to the school, leaving only Kirishima left. As the underground hero school rules no students are even registered on any sourse outside of the school. It was impossible to tell if Sero was still there.

---

Sero also stopped contacting Kirishima shortly after transferring. Over the phone when talking there seemed to be small break between when Kirishima asked a question to when Sero answered it. Sero blamed it on lag. It got worse the closer before Sero cut contact.

---

Kirishima actually first got suspended for disruption (Read: he got suspended for demanding where all his friends were going). He was in his room at his house when he remembered something. He shoved a bunch of random things from his locker into his bag before he left U.A. One of these included the newly remembered papers Mina gave him. He read through all of it.

Kirishima found her listed account and listened to all the audios. That may have only explained Bakugou's disappearance, but to him it explained them all.

Kiri felt so weak for not having saw it all earlier. He sent the account a message explaining that it was Kirishima, and if the mod was Mina they needed to talk.

His message was read within the hour with no reply.

When morning came he was back at school. Breaking his 5 day suspension. He left his hair ungelled to fit in more and left without his moms even noticing.

He did get to Midnight. He also managed to make he activate her quirk to everyone. He did remember waking up in a confined cell. He remembers getting dragged away in handcuffs by the police. He didn't manage to get away from the police.

They never got him to the station, though. Car doors don't last if you're hitting it with an indestructible quirk activated.

Everything's a blur from there.

(This is only part of what I have for this au. Sorry this is such a rant. Tumblr also is being a dick with posting, so sorry. I spent 8-10 hours on this.)

[vera-simik]

Wanted: The Witcher. Status: Urgent

Ok. I did it. I finally translated it all. So there it is - my super weird multi-crossover crack-fic, because honestly? Almost everything I ever wrote is more or less crack-fic 😅

Proceed on your own risk  😅

(early morning)

(OK, fine, let’s be honest – NOT so early)

(Vědmi and Erik are sitting in the kitchen, both have a mug of a hot beverage in front of them; Vědmi is also messing around with a small pile of papers)

(Andy comes in)

Andy: “I bid you good morning.”

Erik: (waves sort of disinterestedly) “Mornin’.”

Vědmi: (mumbles something, doesn’t glance up from her work)

Andy: “Judging by her expression, Geralt hasn’t shown up yet.”

Erik: “What a pity you didn’t place a bet. You’d win.”

Andy: “Ah… So, she’s creating WHAT exactly?”

Erik: “Do you remember when she said that if the witcher wouldn’t show up in two days, she’d have to act?”

Andy: “… yes?”

Erik: “She started to create wanted posters.”

Vědmi: “Alright, you two. (puts papers aside) You can stop talking about me as if I weren’t here, and tell me instead – how does this sound? (clears her throat) Have you seen this witcher? Responds to the name Geralt of Rivia. If you find him, be so kind and punch him in the face. (looks at her companions) So? What do you think?”

(both men remain silent)

Erik: “Well…”

Andy: “Perhaps I would word it in less emotive w-“

(suddenly, a portal opens in the kitchen, and Geralt stumbles out of it, slightly green in the face)

Vědmi: (with a mischievous grin on her face) “Aaa, look who FINALLY decided to join us! And as I see, unspeakably wasted!”

Geralt: (mutters) “Be so kind and stop screeching. You’re worse than an echidna, and I, moreover, have a feeling like I could even hear the colours.”

Vědmi: “And why are you acting so surprised, with such a hangover? Shame on you! What am I supposed to tell your wife when she comes here and sees you like this?”

Geralt: (takes a seat at the table) (in puzzlement) “Why would Yen come here? Are you two planning on doing something here or what?”

Vědmi: (facepalm) “And he’s asking! You said yourself that your anniversary is approaching, and then you asked me if I could do you a favor and write it down to the calendar in case you’d forget! You wanted to take her out tonight, and you were pretty damn secretive about it. That’s why we wanted to launch a hunt for you! (points at the pile of wanted posters)”

Geralt: (looks a bit uncertain) “Tonight? Are you sure? How long was I gone?”

Erik: “Longer than you think, mon ami. Did Regis make a new brew of his mandrake moonshine again?”

Andy: „Whatever it was, I suppose it was quite impressive. A witcher with a mild alcohol poisoning… I don’t think it’s something you can see every day.“

Geralt: (waves hand in a dismissive manner) „Eh… it’s not… I don’t wanna talk about it, it’s not very int-“

Vědmi: „Oh no, no, no, keep talking, we’re all ears.“

Geralt: „Ugh, as you wish. Dandelion had the – you know – bachelor party, and – I admit – maybe, just MAYBE it took a bit longer than we planned, and…“

(everyone’s silent for a moment)

Erik: „P-perhaps I did not understand correctly? WHAT happened to Dandelion?“

Vědmi: (shrieks out) „The oaf’s gonna get married?!“

Geralt: (slightly tormented expression) „I begged you to stop screeching…“

Vědmi: (ignoring witcher’s headache) „So he really wants to get hitched… That’s impossible…“

Andy: „And who’s the poor unfortunate soul he talked into it?“

Vědmi: „Crystal clear it’s Priscilla. Am I right? (pokes Geralt) Don’t sleep, and tell him I’m right!“

Geralt: „Does it look to you like anyone could fall asleep here when SOMEONE’s still shouting? (to Andy) And of course, it’s Priscilla. Or did you think he managed to smooth Annarietta’s ruffled feathers?“

Erik: (laughs in his sleeve) „Or worse – Vespula’s?“

Vědmi: “My, my! Someone’s very well versed in latest gossips, am I right, monsieur le phantôm?”

Erik: “Oh please. I know the details just because this shrew and my María know each other. As for me, I could live even without this knowledge.”

Andy: “María indeed knows almost everyone. No offense, of course.”

Geralt: “Could we PLEASE get back to much more serious matter than why and from where do whose partners know each other? Mine will skin me alive when she sees me in this state! (more or less to himself) Damn, Vesemir was right once again, when he said we shouldn’t drink so much because we would regret it later. But is it my fault Zoltan fetched that archival Mahakam spirit immediately after that?”

Vědmi: “Can’t you just, I don’t know, brew yourself the Wives’ Tears of something like that?”

Geralt: “Look… the fact I’m sitting here, talking to you in a way that somehow makes sense, doesn’t mean a thing. I haven’t felt this sick as long as I can remember. And I’m not entirely sure what will happen the moment I’ll try to get up. I’d throw up into the pot before I could even try to brew something in it, most likely.”

Erik: (to Vědmi) “I’d LOVE to know how the rest of the participants ended up.”

Andy: (gets up) “I can’t stand by any longer, Geralt. Come on, I think I have something that would help you down in the laboratory.” (leaves the room)

(Geralt slowly and carefully follows him, Vědmi and Erik remain in the kitchen)

(they’re sitting in silence for a while)

Erik: “Don’t look at me like that. We should have figured out sooner that Dandelion and Zoltan were involved in this.”

Vědmi: “Meh, I don’t give a hoot about who wrecked him like this. He could be drinking with every single one of those dum-dums of the Wild Hunt for all I care, he’s an adult, and as such, he should know that excessive drinking equals headache. I agree with Vesemir almost every time, and I don’t intend to make any exceptions this time. Don’t drink, don’t regret it afterward. But that’s not what’s on my mind.”

Erik: “Then what… Wait, let me guess. Is it because you had an itch for Dandelion?”

Vědmi: (deadly serious) “Tell me this was just a weak attempt to make a remarkably stupid joke because otherwise, I’m giving you a ten-second head start. Drogo helped me retrieve all of the knives which fell behind the stove about a week ago.”

Erik: (raises hands in a defensive gesture) “Keep calm. As you say, it’s just a stupid joke. But it HAS something to do with the bard, non?”

Vědmi: “I’m mostly nice to that fool, in bounds of possibility, and I haven’t told him he’s a nitwit and a skirt chaser to his face for more than a year! For fun nor seriously! And he doesn’t even send me an invitation!”

Erik: “So, is this the only thing that’s troubling you?”

Vědmi: “Tsk. ‘The only thing,’ he says. Hm…  Do you think it could be due to that one time three years ago when we stole his lute, and then we sent it back to him one string at a time?”

Erik: “To our – and your especially – defence, I need to add that he was flirting with you in a very indiscreet way. And this was quite adequate retribution. I think he didn’t invite you more likely because he remembers very well when we tied him up with those strings for a similar offence, and that Nuada and NoName sang an intentionally off-key version of Dornishman’s Wife to torture him a bit more. I can’t help it, but I think you didn’t even try to stop them.”

Vědmi: (considers it) “Maybe you’re right… Oh! Or is it because of that other time when I dashed the leftovers of the disgusting old soup at him because he was serenading me underneath the window?”

Erik: “When I’m thinking of it now… We’re giving him fairly hard time, aren’t we?”

Vědmi: (theatrically) “Living amongst the group of fictional villains is corrupting me!”

Erik: “I see myself more like an antihero, and I could argue over this too. And don’t make yourself look like a victim, because you’re not innocent either. Should I remind to you some of these ideas came from your head?”

Vědmi: “Ha! Such an insult! If Andy were here, he’d stand up for me for sure!”

Erik: “But Anderien is out of question. To tell the truth, I’m not entirely sure he could…”

Vědmi: (with a bit of “Creator’s Sense of Guilt” in her voice) “Mind what you’re saying, you could be in for a nasty surprise. He had certain moments in life where you wouldn’t want to get into his ha-“

(once again, another portal opens in the kitchen)

Vědmi: (bangs the table with her fist) “Oh come on now! What kind of manners is this, turning my kitchen into interchange…”

(out of the portal comes Yennefer; it doesn’t look like she’s in a good mood)

Vědmi: “… station. Mornin’?”

Erik: “Eeh… bonjour, madame Yennefer?”

Yennefer: “Where is he?!”

Vědmi: (immediately turns the posters blank side up and quickly tries to gloss over Geralt’s absence) “Honestly? We weren’t expecting you to come here so soon! I thought you were meant to arrive in the evening! And I’d take a guess Gery didn’t expect you so soon either… He went to… went to…”

Yennefer: “Well?!”

Erik: “To take a shower.”

Vědmi: “To get the flowers. (looks at Erik) (kind of desperately) Wait for a second, he said he’s going to take a shower right after the afternoon coffee!”

Erik: “You wait! He wanted to get the flowers when he’s done showering!”

Vědmi: “Uh-oh…”

Yennefer: “If only you weren’t driveling… I know very well what he’s been doing. When it comes to that half-witted bard, what else could they be up to? Invoking the djinn?!”

Vědmi: (snickers) “Yeah, gin was probably involved too.” (discreetly puts the pile of posters out of sorceress’ sight)

Yennefer: “What do you have here?”

Vědmi: “Eee… nothing. I was drawing… a bit…”

Yennefer: (takes a seat) “He was supposed to let me know after he’d left that party. Don’t look at me like this. After the pogrom in Rivia, I tend to worry about Geralt a lot more.”

Erik: “Our dear witcher didn’t think this through, I agree completely. But why didn’t you go to look for him – let’s say – at Kaer Morhen?”

Yennefer: “Do you suppose I didn’t already go there? At the first go! Wait, no. At the second go, actually. At first, I went to look for him at that Dandelion’s tavern in Novigrad. I almost caused Zoltan a heart attack. Nevertheless, they told me Geralt already left and sent me right to Kaer Morhen.”

Vědmi: “Now this is picking up speed. Do you want some coffee? Why am I asking, you do for sure. Black with milk, am I right?”

Yennefer: (curtly nods and continues) “When I saw how Eskel and Lambert came out of this event, I knew it wouldn’t be realistic to expect Geralt would be better off no matter how. There are only three places he tends to spend a lot of time at, and since your house is the last one I didn’t already check out, it would be a huge coincidence if he didn't come back here, either. (sighs) I’m going to lose my mind because of him one day.”

Erik: “I think you're a bit too severe on him.”

Vědmi: “Yeah, that poor fellow doesn’t really deserve this… today. I don’t want to defend him, he sure has a lot of imperfections, but I’m ready to vouch for him right now.”

Erik: “He probably just forgot to let you know, it happens even to the best of us… ehm…”

Vědmi: (pokes the phantom to the ribs) (under her voice) “Don’t overdo it, I bet there’s a lot of things you don’t want María to find out…”

Erik: (ignores Vědmi) “She’s babbling again, it happens a lot, don’t listen to her, it’s not worth it. But what did I want to say before she interrupted me? Ah, oui. Geralt forgot to let you know. And as I mentioned, it happens. See, a lot going on – I mean, there’s this anniversary of yours, his best friend is going to get married… And I admit, he did drink, indeed.  But only a bit, and then he got back here quite early.”

Vědmi: (latches on Erik’s improvisation) “Masked weirdo over here’s right. You have not only one, but three witnesses of Geralt’s arrival!”

Yennefer: (slightly ironically) “It's not like I didn't believe what you two are saying, but where do you have the third one?”

Erik: “It’s Anderien Ettreasil, you must have heard of him.”

Yennefer: “That half-elven alchemist? Well, I sometimes do trade with him. Sure, he’s quite trustworthy, but..”

Vědmi: “Exactly! Right now, he and Gery are doing something down in the lab. (ostentatiously pretends to be offended) And they didn’t even let ME to join them! It’s gotta be some sort of surprise, believe me!"

(sound of the opened door can be heard; in a moment, Andy and Geralt are coming in the kitchen) (Geralt’s in a significantly better and more sober state than he was in after he got out of the portal)

Vědmi: “Great! And now there are all of us this situation applies to!”

Geralt: (expectably surprised) “Yen! What are you doing here? We weren’t expecting you to come here so soon…”

Erik: (gives Vědmi a wink) “Where did I hear this today?”

Yennefer: (stands up from the table, folds her arms) (surprisingly calmly) “Geralt of Rivia.”

Vědmi: (to Erik and Andy) (half seriously) “Uh-oh, she called him by his full name! All hell’s going to break loose!”

Yennefer: “I always thought you’re a self-dependent grown man. And that you know what does it mean when we agree on something.”

Geralt: (you can tell from his look that he wishes to be somewhere else)

Andy: “Well… I’d better be going, I’m not sure if I put the burner out…” (prepares to beat a retreat in a very diplomatic way)

Erik: “No, no, stay here. This is going to get interesting.”

Yennefer: (ignores all of the distractions and continues) “After all, I even believed you could even be responsible. And meanwhile, you're even worse than our daughter. She at least lets me know whenever she gets held up somewhere and knows when she's getting back home.”

Geralt: “But Yen…”

Yennefer: “Do I look like I finished speaking?! This one’s for disappearing and not letting me know about your whereabouts, leaving me worried sick!” (slaps Geralt)

(Geralt, because he knows he “earned” it, handles the slap with at least some dignity)

(two thirds of the onlookers, on the other hand, react greatly exaggerated)

Vědmi: (overacts covering her eyes) “Holy shiP!”

Erik: (with extremely false concern in his voice) “Oww, this might HURT!”

Yennefer: “And this one…”

(everyone’s getting for the worst – Vědmi even above her usual “fondness” towards other people’s misfortune)

Yennefer: (no one’s expecting her kissing Geralt on the same cheek where she slapped him before) “… is for your effort after all these years we’re together. I’m glad you didn’t forget our anniversary, and I greatly appreciate it. However (critically examines her dearest from tip to toe) that vomit stain on your shirt kind of ruins this moment.”

Andy: (to Geralt) “I was preparing to let you know.”

Yennefer: “It doesn’t matter right now. But I’m hoping you’ll smarten up until the evening. If not, Triss still owes me a bottle of wine, so I have an alternative program. (opens a new portal) See you later, Geralt. (steps into the portal and disappears)

(nothing much happens for a while)

Geralt: “Alright, I admit it, I tend to make mistakes. You can stop laughing, Vědmi.”

Vědmi: (wipes off tears from the previous fit of laughing) “Sorry. I… pfffhehe… I’m okay, yeah…”

Geralt: “So… first I’ll go to throw this (takes off the filthy shirt) into the laundry basket, and then…”

Erik: “Watch that fanservice, you’re going to kill our landlady.”

Vědmi: (blushes) “Tssk!”

Geralt: (chuckles and leaves the room with the shirt thrown over his shoulder)

(the not-so-early morning quickly regains its previous calmness; lonely trio goes back to their not-so-hot-anymore beverages)

(ANOTHER portal opens, and random young Nilfgaardian soldier falls out of it)

Vědmi: (swiftly stands up) “Oh, come on! Are you fookin’ kiddin’?!”

Random Nilfgaardian soldier: (glances around) “T-this isn’t Wyzima…?”

Erik: (sarcastically) “No way! How did you notice?”

RNS: (at the beginning of a panic attack) “By the Great Sun, this can’t be happening! What am I going to do now?! I don’t even know how and why that portal opened up right in front of me! General Voorhis is going to kill me once I got back! I…”

Andy: “Calm down, boy. I suppose we know general Voorhis. He’s about this tall, kinda ginger, likes horses…?”

Erik: “Oh wait, isn’t it the same ginger Nilfgaardian who tried to hit on our Vědmi?”

Andy: “But of course he is! (to RNS) Don’t worry, young friend, Vědmi will help you with your trouble. She and general Voorhis know each other VERY WELL! (unsuccessfully tries to hide a grin; Erik already gave up trying)”

Vědmi: (annoyed) “Cut it out, you two! I agreed to go out with him once for a glass of wine in Novigrad. ONCE! And you’re immediately making a mountain out of a molehill! And I wish I didn’t go there. He looked like he’s hoping we could repeat it some other time…”

Erik: (mockingly) “Exactly.”

RNS: (observes the conversation considerably confused)

Vědmi: (dramatically) “OK! Fine! I’ll do it! I’ll put myself out for greater good and explain it wasn’t a desertion nor treason! But the moment he starts to hit on me again, I’ll bite your heads off! (to RNS) And you – sit down for a moment, I still need to make myself look like at least half decent human being, and it’s going to take a while. Do you want some coffee?”

  THE END

[lonely-bored-writer]

Not So Alone

Fandom: Danny Phantom & Ben 10 (2005)

Summary: The life of a hero is often a lonely one, filled with anguish and danger, as much as it is filled pride and gratification. The weight of that life is crushing for any soul, let alone one much too young for such powers. One can only be lucky to find someone that can relate on a tiniest of gains, but luck seemed to be on these two boys. One finds a friend, the other finds a family.

Warnings: Although these are kids shows about kids, it does touch on the harsher reality of things than the shows do. It's gonna be overall angsty and heavy. This is the only overall warning I'm giving, and also some characters are de-aged to fit the story/theme. Enjoy!

The life of a hero was often a lonely and tiring path, one with high expectations. If a hero made one mistake, it could be a grave one. Lives are on the line, a hero doesn't have time to make mistakes. However, one cannot live a perfect life. Guilt was a heavy weight, especially on the minds of the young.

Benjamin Tennyson is only ten years old when this weight was pressed into his life. The Omnitrix was a complex device, one that allowed the young hero to take forms of various alien life-forms. As exciting as the idea of possessing such power was, Ben found that with powers comes villains. The detection of such powerful alien-technology brought forth a sea of those wanting it for themselves, and aliens appearing all across Earth. Seemingly always wherever the young Tennyson wanted to relax and be a child.

That was where the young hero found himself, stumbling upon yet another disaster needing his help.

Ben found himself smiling as the sound of the helicopter whirled in the air. Today was going to be good, just him with Grandpa Max and Gwen visiting a Rich guy's new hotel. The man was a millionaire, he had to have his own security detail, which means the Omnitrix shouldn't be needed and his time will finally be free. To have fun, to be a kid, and maybe to cause a little trouble of course. But what could you expect from a ten-year old.

He chose to tune out Grandpa's reunion with Donovan, instead choosing to take in the sights of the helipad on the roof. It was amazing, no fights against aliens could stand up against experiencing things like this. It was stuff Ben could only dream of having, let alone seeing. He turned his gaze to the boy standing next to the other man, pulling a smile that dropped quickly when the other boy frowned and turned his head. Ben was used to not being liked, but that's usually after his already spoke. School didn't count.

"Hi." Ben smiled when Mr. Grand Smith introduced them to Edwin.

"Yea, whatever." The child responded, crossing his arms in a way of disinterest. Ben frowned, turning to meet his cousin's own surprised look. People normally liked Gwen, he couldn't imagine how weird it was for someone to dislike her before she started on her smart talk. Ben held in a sigh, turning back to the adults. Neither of them commented on Edwin's rude behavior. But Ben knew if that was him, Grandpa would have most definitely said something.

"Ready to take the plunge?" Donovan smiled, motioning towards a set of doors that opened. He followed the others in, glancing to see Edwin giving both Tennyson kids a side-glare.

The group silently made it onto the raft, Ben glanced over and watched Edwin stare off into the distance. Neither Gwen or Grandpa Max caught his gaze. He was excite sure, this was going to be fun. But it's hard to have fun when you're so used to it all taking a deep dive at sooner or later. No pun intended. Nonetheless his smile was clear as day as the raft made its way down the tube. Gwen turned, grinning at him before turning to their Grandpa. It was nice, he was too used to their bickering, he forgot sometimes they can get along.

Ben watched in awe as the water glistened around the mostly clear tube, sea-life swimming past them. Ben wasn't sure if his new fondness of the sea was because of Ripjaws, but the sea always seemed peaceful to him. Even when sometimes a sea creature comes out and tries to eat you.

"You sure this is the safest place to build a resort like this?" Grandpa Max asked, grabbing Ben's attention. If Grandpa was feeling uneasy, that usually means something's going to happen. For once, Ben wished it wouldn't. More so than any other time. Ben didn't catch Mr. Grand Smith's response, but he did grab the next thing that came out the oldest Tennyson's lips. "I mean you're smack dab in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle." That caught Gwen's attention as well.

"Growing up you were always the worry wart, Max." Donovan laughed, looking out at the vast sea. "Never the risk taker. I give you the world's first, and only, underwater resort." The man flourished with a gesture of his arm. Ben sat up straight, looking forward in awe. It was beautiful.

Ben didn't quite catch what the man said as they got closer to the docking. Mr. Grand Smith was talking about some things about the hotel with Grandpa, but Ben was much to excited to explore. He grinned up at Gwen who matched his grin. The moment the raft settled, he and Gwen were already headed off.

The two stopped in front of one of the many glass windows, staring in awe at all the beautiful and colorful fishes that swam by. Ben heard the others approaching behind them.

"I read about your resort in-" Ben tuned out the rest of Gwen's talking. Focusing on all the fishes, before his eyes landed on the scuba diver. He knew that was the gear from older models at least, but it really did make the experience come just a bit more alive. "Isn't the glass reinforced-" Ben caught when his cousin cut herself off. He felt a spark of anger in him when he heard Edwin cough into his hand.

"Butt-kisser."

Donovan continued the conversation as if nothing happened. However, Ben hated it. This was one of the few places he didn't want to be kicked out of, or grounded in. His mind glossed over the science talk that happened. He did catch that the place had nine whole pools, and that it costed two billion dollars. Even Ben had to be impressed.

"But you know, money isn't everything." Donovan smiled, only to quickly drop to a frown when his grandson chimed in.

"Changed the family motto, Grandpa?" Edwin scoffed, hands still crossed. Ben glanced at the other kid, eyes furrowing. It wasn't had to tell the kid didn't want to be there, and it's not like Ben knew what it was like being rich, but he sure did think this place was cool enough to want to be in. Ben's eyes zeroed in on a little yellow pin resting against the burgundy sweater.

"Hey, I'm into Sumo Slammers too." Ben tried, moving a little closer. "Where'd you score that pin?" He asked, gesturing towards the pin. He tried not to let it get to him when the other boy still looked away from him.

"Sumo slammers slam-down V in Helsinki." Edwin responded, still not meeting Ben's eyes. "We flew on my Grandpa's private jet just to get it." That must have been fun, Ben remembered when he first heard about it and how much he wanted to go, but knew he couldn't.

"And Edwin says the pin's already tripled in value." Donovan chimed in, resting a hand on his grandson's shoulder. The older gentleman then turned to Grandpa Max. "Kid's got a head for business, grooming him to take over the empire one day. Gotta keep it in the family." Ben grinned, turning to look at his Grandpa.

"I've sort of been following in my grandpa's footsteps this summer, too." Ben smiled, he's learned not to give too much out too soon after the incident with Grandpa's old partner. But this was something he was proud of, being good at something for once. It was at that moment the lights began to flicker, and an alarm sound rang through the air. Ben tensed, glancing around and tried to find any immediate dangers.

Everyone turned in time to see the Scuba diver, that caught Ben's eyes, lose his balance as the water around him surged towards the fans below. His eyes watched as the man fell, only stopping when his tether got caught up in railings. His eyes caught sight of the water pooling into the mask, as the man struggled to get back up. He barely caught the words Donovan spoke in response to what happened. A power surge.

"Will he be okay?" Ben asked, turning to look at the eldest in the room.

"Hmph, if the sharks don't get him first." Ben glanced over, feeling an uneasiness at how emotionless Edwin said that.

"I can't have an employee turned into fish food right before the opening. The press will ruin me." Mr. Grand Smith spoke, turning and rushing to go do something. Ben grounded his teeth, they spoke like a man's life wasn't in danger. He could easily save him if he turned into Ripjaws, but that wasn't the point of the trip. The Grand Smiths had to have it covered.

A glance from Gwen, however, told him otherwise. He rushed off to an area he was sure he could transform in without being seen. Ripjaws it was. Ben pressed against a pipe, turning the Omnitrix until Ripjaws silhouette popped up. With a sigh, he pressed it. Feeling the familiar tug and slight ache as his biology transformed, but this didn't feel like Ripjaws.

"Seriously, for once I was better off as me." Ben groaned staring down at the grey skinned hands of Grey Matter. He blinked, feeling the familiar reptilian lids slid over his eyes. Nonetheless Ben quickly leaped into the water. A man's life was on the line, even if he wasn't well suited to help, he couldn't wait.

He pushed through the water as fast as he could, watch the sharks circle around the dangling man. Two. The man was struggling, which never helped in a situation like this, but Ben understood the fear. He was feeling the same fear as he tried to run through a plan to help save the man. Instinctively he grabbed on to one of the shark's fin, hitching a ride as it took another round.

Ben reeled back his arm and took a straight punch to the shark's eye, throwing it off course. He continued to punch, even as the shark made a beeline for the man, mouth open and ready to bite. His heart hammered away at his chest, before his eyes landed on the second shark. To his luck, or maybe Grey Matter's calculations, the shark he rode on bit into the second one.

His grip slipped on where he gripped the gills, and he was projected away from the fighting sharks. Only to land smack dab in the middle of the helmet's window. Ignoring the ache in his lungs from how long his been holding his breath in such a small form, he smiled at the man staring eye-wide at the alien. To his luck, he heard the fan start to slow down before reversing.

The water propelled the two upwards, knocking the man's helmet off his head. The bubbles that came out the moment the helmet came of scared Ben for a second, before he found himself being launched into air, rather than water.

Ben winced as his hand hit full-force on the edge of a replica boat hanging off the ceiling. The copper dung harshly into his palm, but he made sure to tighten his grip when the ever familiar beeping sounded. Quickly followed by a flash of light, and Ben having to readjust to being normal again. Almost losing his grip, but securing it in time to hear Edwin speak.

"Hey, where's your cousin?"

"Just hanging!" Ben called from his place, waving his other hand. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he laughed. "Does anyone have a ladder?"

It didn't take long for Ben to find himself back on solid ground. He watched as the Scuba diver stumbled away from them. He felt bad for the man. Especially when Donovan spoke about doubling his salary, but at least the press wouldn't know. The man's life had to be more important than money or reputation, right?

"But who would believe him, he said some six-inch rat with two legs saved him." Donovan laughed, shaking his head.

"Just buy him off." Edwin spoke, arms still crossed, and looking at no one in particularly. To Ben it seemed like a kid whose pouting about not getting his way, but what kid can pout through all this. "Now, that's the Grand Smith way."

"Ahem. Edwin, why don't you take Ben and Gwen on a tour so their grandpa and I can catch up on old times?" Donovan cleared his throat before smiling. Ben still can't believe everyone was just letting the kid act like this. Then again, money changes everything. That's what every ones' told him and that's what he's come to learn.

"Oh man." Ben quietly groaned, the same time Gwen did too. "Ugh."

Ben watched as the two walked away, not really listening to the words but processing it for later. Ben quietly followed Edwin in the opposite direction, not bothering to attempt small talk, and neither was Gwen.

It didn't take long before the trio found themselves walking up to a mock-beach with a large water-slide that Ben most definitely had to try at least twice. If going Grey Matter was the only incident for the rest of the stay, this could be one fun time. "Nice." Ben broke the silence, looking in awe at the twisty slides.

"Not bad." Edwin spoke as well, his 'better than you tone' ever so present. "In the morning, I have my own swim coach and person trainer to work out with." Which if Ben was being honest he wouldn't have expected, but then again, no one would suspect him of spending a good part of his summer fighting aliens and criminals.

"You're a swimmer?" Gwen asked, not bothering to hide her surprise.

"Long-distance." Edwin responded, creating the movements as if he were swimming. "My grandpa say it builds character."

Ben couldn't help but mock him the moment he walked away. Gwen laughed at him, before following the rich kid. Ben shook his head before following along, he made a mental note to make sure to come back and visit this mock-beach.

The next stop also had Ben stricken with awe. A submarine hung from the ceiling, an open pool underneath. One would assume it was functional, and Edwin filled in any thoughts with some facts.

"It's called the Undersea Manta Ray." Edwin spoke, moving closer to it as the other two followed. "It's my grandfather's."

"Well, it looks cool." Gwen spoke, just as in awe as Ben.

"You want to take it for a ride?" Edwin asked, having not turned around.

"Definitely." Ben spoke first, not taking his eyes off the submarine.

"You sure it's okay?" Gwen asked, turning a suspicious look to Edwin. Ben bit back a sigh, they were kids, they were meant to cause trouble sometimes. Edwin never really responded though, instead smirking at the two Tennysons.

Edwin instead instructed them to follow and he lowered the submarine. Ben grinned at Gwen who only looked worried. "We shouldn't do this." Gwen whispered as Edwin worked the submarine open.

"Come on Gwen, when would we get this opportunity again?" Ben grinned, following Edwin in. He didn't have to worry if Gwen was going to follow or not, she always did.

The kid knew what he was doing in terms of driving the submarine, that was for sure. But Ben couldn't tear his eyes away from the different forms of sea-life swimming by. The color fishes, the glowing pink jellyfish.

"Wow, some of these fish look totally prehistoric." Gwen's worry seemed to vanish as the nerd side of her came out. Ben had to agree though, some of these looked like those fishes Ben caught sight of when Gwen was watching her documentaries. Ben smiled, when Gwen looked back at him with her own grin. This was nice, like really nice. Everything was so pretty and peaceful down here.

The submarine descended a few more levels before gliding forward through the dark depths with ease. The lights illuminating the once pitch-black waters. Ben wasn't paying much attention to anything but the sea-life until Gwen spoke up.

"Okay, now that's weird." Just then a glowing blue, squid-like robot jolted in front of the window. Quickly the robot latched itself to the window, and rammed an almost beak-like part into it. Ben tensed, turning to see Edwin looking shocked and scared.

"And that's weirder." He said. One more popped up at Edwin's window, following the same actions as the first one. Ben tensed, glancing around as more swarmed the submarine. The bots made screeching noises as the rammed up against the windows. Fear flooded into Ben's system, along with adrenaline. He wanted to relax, not deal with another adrenaline high.

The familiar sound of glass cracking sounded through the noise, before the sound of rushing water filled through and an alarm blared. Ben could tell he needed to step in, but how could he when there was nowhere to run or hide.

"What do you think those creatures what?!" Edwin asked, glancing back at Gwen.

"I don't think it's to play Marco polo." Came her usual nervous response. Ben's face settled in determination.

"We've gotta go back to the hotel." Edwin's face seemed to settle at his words, the kid pulling a lever and moving the submarine faster and upwards. Ben sighed a quiet sigh of relief as he saw some of the creatures lose their grip and float away. He knew they were chasing them, others still clinging to the ship.

He had to put as much faith as he could into Edwin, if he tried to help, he'd out himself. He flinched when the first explosion sounded, one of those creatures' made contact with an apparently live bomb. The train reaction followed quickly, the other ones near by going off as well.

The submarine jolted around, and Ben's hope slowly started to fizzle out. No other creatures seemed to take a dive with those explosions. Ben's eyes flipped around at the creatures and debris flying through the sea.

"Grandpa, do you copy?" Edwin spoke into a radio, which Ben silently wish he'd done earlier. No response. Ben turned, catching his cousin's eyes. He didn't want to but he knew that look. Nodding, he unbuckled his belt and made his way to the exit. Being sure to close the door behind him. The ship didn't need to take on any more water.

"Turn me into Wild Mutt, you're dead meat." Ben grumbled, hoping that he got Ripjaws. They couldn't afford another mishap like earlier. Not this time. He felt the familiar tug and aches, before the light died down. "Okay, now we're talking." He breathed, eyes trailing over the familiar greenish scales.

Taking down the bots was much easier as Ripjaws, the sharp claws and strong teeth ripped through them without a problem. Swimming through the water was much easier as well, his legs slinging together into a tail. The worry came with trying to get all the creatures away from the submarine before they destroyed it and put Gwen and Edwin's lives more endanger.

Once he finally caught up with the submarine, he chomped the closest one in half. That seemed to do it. Most of the creatures paused, before turning their attention to him. The tentacles were annoying, that's for sure. Even through the adrenaline, Ben could feel the faint aches of where the bruises would form. Ripjaws was the best one for the job, even if his skin wasn't as tough as some of the others.

Ben barely manage to take out six that swarmed him at once, before high-tailing it towards the submarine. He glanced inside to see Gwen's relieved face, and Edwin's worried one. Not stopping to eavesdrop, he quickly moved on from creature to creature. He took out the last one when the familiar beeping chimed near his gills, followed by the soft flash of red.

His fear spiked when he reached the hatch, pulling desperately on it, but there was no give. In his haste to destroy the creatures, he didn't notice the damage the submarine took. He does now remember the harsh blow on his back from the impact. He barely pulled open the latch, and swung himself inside when the flash came over him. He pushed open the door, water falling to the ground, and dripping from him but he didn't pay attention.

Inhaling deeply, he feel to his knees, resting against the metal flooring. His lung ached in the time it took him to fully adjust and get in, and exhaustion settled in his bones as the adrenaline slowly seeped out of them. They weren't in the clear yet, but his body could only panic for so long.

Ben felt his heart drop in relief once they passed through those doors. Silently the trio made their way out of the submarine and onto the deck. Alarms blared loudly around them, signifying that the base was also under attack.

"We're flooding." Donovan spoke, glancing among them all. "They broke the glass."

"I knew you shouldn't have taken it. I knew it." Edwin cut in urgently.

"Edwin quiet. I'm sure it has nothing to do with this." Donovan hushed him, but Ben couldn't help but focus his gaze on Edwin.

"Taken what Donovan." Grandpa Max cut in, Ben could hear the anger already settling his grandpa's voice.

"Edwin doesn't know what he's talking about." Donovan excused. Ben tensed with ever second that passed. This back and forth, along with the alarms and the threat right outside the door. He couldn't calm down.

"How would you know? All you ever hear from me is what you want to hear." Edwin all but yelled as his grandfather. The sound of zapping electricity brought the others attention back to the matter at hand. A few of those creatures appeared above the submarine.

"Let's go." Max commanded, everyone immediately following his order. They rushed quickly into the elevator, barely making it through before the creatures would have been on top of them.

"Donovan, what is going on?" Grandpa Max asked, once they settled in the elevator.

"Okay, the underwater volcano thing didn't work. The resort was doomed." Ben had no clue what he was on about, but he had a feeling alien technology was involved. "I was about to become a punch line to a bad joke. Then I found this other energy source on this weird craft way down below. It was like nothing I've ever seen before. "

"And now, I bet those aliens want it back." Gwen chimed in. Ben's face hardened, this man put every ones' lives at risk over a stupid resort.

"Yea, the same ones with the underwater parking lot full of boats and planes." Ben said. Everyone glanced among each other.

The moment those elevator doors opened, the group made their way out only to be met with a rush of water and creatures headed their way. They made it through another doorway, Ben barely picked up a comment Grandpa Max made about his job and the Bermuda triangle. He glanced his watch and clenched his teeth. Still red.

They did manage to make it onto a raft, water spilling from holes everywhere. Everyone sat in silence for a moment, waiting for their turn up the tube to leave. Ben glanced and caught sight of Donovan's angry and defeated face.

"look on the bright side grandpa, you still have fifteen resorts worldwide." Edwin tried to comfort Donovan. Ben watched as the older man didn't say anything, simply moving the raft to exit. Ben heard it first, a soft noise before the tentacles arrived, wrapping over the edge of the raft. Nothing could ever go that simply.

The raft was torn apart effortlessly, Ben cried out as he watched Grandpa Max and Mr. Grand Smith be pulled in the opposite direction as the kids. Ben screamed along with the other kids as their half started free-falling back into the resort. His mind racing with the reality that the resort down there was falling apart and should collapse and be fully submerged soon.

Ben caught sight of Gwen coaching Edwin, having him cover his eyes. He caught her eyes next before nodding. Lucky for him, the watch had enough time to reboot. He didn't need to swim, he needed to get them out of there as soon as possible. Stinkfly it was. Ben focused on holding tightly to Edwin and Gwen as Gwen gave a lame excuse to the other boy.

"Hold on." Ben spoke, glancing at Edwin before focusing his attention on the road before them. His heart rate picked up with every lucky dodge of a tentacle he made. He could see the sharpness and ridge of them. He knew if he let even one of them touch any of them, it could be some serious damage. In his attention to the spikes, he didn't notice the stream of water before it was too late.

They hit the water hard, Ben berating himself mentally as him came up. "My wings are too wet, I can't fly. And, oh, yea I can't swim either." He spoke, finding himself falling back under the current. To his luck, Gwen and Edwin caught him quickly and supported him up on the surface.

"Don't worry, we got you. Ben." Edwin spoke, giving the bug a knowing look.

"That's not Ben." Gwen tried to defend, but Ben already know. Edwin knew it was him, but he didn't seem like he was planning to tell anyone.

"Yea right, good aliens just showing up to help us." Edwin responded. "While your cousin always happens to be gone? How dumb do I look? So how do you do it?" He turned to Ben.

"Edwin Listen to me." Gwen pulled the boy's attention to her. "That energy orb-if the aliens are here for it, we have to get to it first."

"Alright, let's get it." Edwin spoke after a short pause, and Ben was just relieved to have the attention off him. "But it's all the way on the other side of the resort."

"But we can't make it in the water." Ben pointed out.

"Who said anything about swimming." Gwen smirked, Ben followed her gaze to the air ducts.

They were making good progress in the vents, Gwen being the only one really speaking. Ben was too worried about if his grandpa made it up alright, and if he could get the others out safely. The Gwen made some comment about getting there quicker, and the pipes decided to give right there and then. As they free fell through the pipes, Ben cursed how unlucky they were until they landed.

By speed boats.

"Alright, now we're talking." Ben laughed, watching Gwen take a seat before going to follow suit. Just as he was about to pull himself up he felt a iron-tight grip surround his leg and a yank down-ward.

He fought harshly against the tentacle, holding in his breath. To his luck, the watch beeped before turning him back. Making him smaller, giving him the chance to slide out of the grasp and swim upwards. He felt the strong ache in his lungs. He gasped for air the moment he broke the surface, turning a gaze at the creature popping up. Pulling himself up onto the boat, Gwen immediately put it to drive. Edwin followed behind, oar in hand and took out the creature.

"Thanks." Ben offered with a thumbs up.

"Thank you. That was awesome." Edwin responded, and Ben couldn't help but note that the kid was smiling for the first time since they got there. "Hey lookout!" Gwen narrowly missed a collision with one of those creatures.

The rest of the ride consisted on trying to doge every one of those things, and keeping close enough to each other so they didn't lose anyone. Before long they made it to the orb, without anymore incidents.

"If the orb can power this whole resort, just imagine what the aliens did with it." Gwen awed, staring at the small pink orb.

"Stealing all those ships and planes would be a good guess." Ben retorted, remembering that those were the creatures responsible for the Bermuda Triangle.

"Maybe if we reverse the connections, it would turn its outward power inward." Edwin offered, Gwen peaking up at the science driven solution.

"And make the whole resort implode." Ben tensed, glancing down at his watch. Red. It was a smart plan though.

"With those aliens in it." He finished.

"Good thinking Edwin." Gwen praised, and Ben offered him a smile.

"Thanks, but we still need to get out of here." Edwin pointed out. Ben paused, before smirking.

"I have an idea." As long as the watch rebooted in time.

Edwin quickly reverted the power surge, the creatures started to flock to it the moment they were heading out. Ben smiled softly as the key component to his plan came into view.

"That's your escape plan?" Edwin asked surprised. Ben nodded, looking at the replica submarine. "It's only for show!" Edwin pointed out.

"And when I'm done with it, it'll be for go." Ben responded, eyes landing on his watch. Green. Hoping it gave him what he needed this time. "Upgrade." He whispered as the glow and feeling washed over him. He made quick work of wrapping himself all along the submarine and merging into it.

He propelled them forward, pushing with all his might as he felt the water around them tremble. The explosion was going to catch up to them, but he needed to get them to an opening. Lucky for them, all the creatures were distracted down below, they made it out without much more of a hitch. The explosion helping Ben propel them forward, towards the surface.

Once they were close enough to the surface that momentum alone would get them to the top, Ben merged himself back into the main space. The beeping sounding and turning him back just as he got inside. Ben couldn't focus too much once they got on dry land. The exhaustion of the day hitting him, but nonetheless he smiled.

Ben smiled and laughed along with everyone before they were biding their good-bye's and making their way back to the RV. Ben yawned, quietly listening to Gwen recount the story to Grandpa all the way to the rust-bucket.

"You kids did good." Grandpa Max smiled, before turning his attention to Ben. "Are you okay Ben?" He asked, concern folding into his features. Ben smiled with a nod and a laugh.

"I'm just beat." He grinned, ignoring the dull aches and throbs that ran through his muscles. All he wanted now, was a nap.

[fantasyfandommaiden]

Proof That Nathalie Cares.

Nathalie sits down in her brand new home, boxes all aroud her, thinking back to how she got here in the first place…

~~~~~~~

[[MORE]]

It all honestly started about eight years ago. When Emilie Agreste first hired her to be HER personal assistant. Nathalie had just graduated with honours from university, and it was a very high paying job. She was professional, and courteous, and would always remind Emilie of any appointments she had.

She, of course, also worked closely with Gabriel Agreste, however that was less often, and got to ‘know’ Adrien fairly well, even if the eight year old boy was incredibly shy towards her. Which is why, when one day Adrien came towards Nathalie’s desk, looking at her with a slight pleading expression, she was somewhat confused.

“... Yes Adrien?” she addressed him, looking away from her laptop.

“... It’s Mama’s birthday soon, right?” he asked, pointing at the calendar on Nathalie’s desk. He was pointing at the red circle that was roughly six days from now, a small sticker of a birthday cake on it.

Nathalie looked at the boy with a raised brow “... it is. Why do you ask?”

“I wanna get her a gift, but Papa won’t take me shopping and I can’t leave the house without a grown up.” he said, looking at Nathalie with those pleading eyes. Nathalie almost feels her resolve break… Almost.

“Unfortunately Adrien, I can’t take you out without your mother or fathers permission.” she said evenly, seeing the boy frown, Nathalie sighed before opening up a new tab on her laptop “But we can order something for your mother online so it will arrive here.”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he grinned widely, stepping as close to Nathalie’s chair so he can see the screen, but when Nathalie saw him standing on his tippy-toes, she scooted her chair back, giving Adrien an encouraging look. Adrien smiled widely as he all but jumped onto Nathalie’s lap as Nathalie pushed herself and Adrien closer to the desk “Now, what sort of things do you think your mother would like Adrien?” “She likes flowers!!!” “Alright, thats a good start…”

Unknown to the pair, Emilie watched the two, a small smile on her face before she quietly left the two to do their ‘shopping’. On Emilie’s birthday, she received a beautiful wired broach that looked like a flower, which she wore every single day.

~~~~~~

When Emilie was declared missing (and to Nathalie’s knowledge, her boss was in fact missing), her first thought hadn’t been ‘Oh my god, am I going to lose my job’, it had been ‘Oh my god, what about Adrien?’

Although Gabriel had never been a BAD parent, he wasn’t exactly the nurturing type. So when Emilie Agreste had been declared missing, she contacted her friend Carmine, who gave her every single bit of information she had about grief, as well as the contact information for a grief counsellor.

Gabriel, however, stated his son didn’t need it, and to throw it all away. Nathalie of course couldn’t go against her employers wishes, however instead decided to be… sneaky about it.

So, when her shift ended at exactly 5:30 that day, she went to Adrien’s room, looking at the boy straight in the eyes and told him “You have my phone number, if for whatever reason you need to talk, just call my number and I WILL awnser. If its during the day when I am working, just send me a text message and I will take my break so we can talk.”

Adrien looked at Nathalie, before giving her his model smile (oh how Nathalie HATED that smile) “Nathalie, I’m fine, honest-”

“Adrien.” she interuppted him “I WILL answer.” she stated again simply.

Adrien looked at her, before nodding “... Okay, but I wont need to. Honest.”

About three days later, at about two oclock in the morning, Nathalie’s phone rings and like she promised, she does answer it.

~~~~~~

When Adrien expressed an interest in going to school, Nathalie knew that she was in for the toughest battle of her entire career. Gabriel Agreste was possibly the most over-protective, paranoid person she had ever met, and he was down right controlling.

So, she gather all the information she could about the benefits of public schooling, sighting how the school that Chloe went to was one of the best around and only about a ten minute walk from the mansion. They had good teachers there, and were known for being willing to be flexable with scedules as many of the students there also worked in entertainment or had jobs.

However, whenever she tried to bring up the subject, Gabriel was quick to change the subject. It came to the point where on the first day of school, Adrien had decided to take matters into his own hands, snuck out of the house to attend school.

As much as it killed Nathalie to do so, she had to bring him back the house, as per Gabriel’s orders. She could tell that the driver wasn’t happy about the decision either.

During their shared lunch they ate in the kitchen, Nathalie had her face pressed against the marbled counter top. “All he wants to do is attend school! Why can’t Mr. Agreste see that?!” She muttered into the cold stone.

Gorilla let out a soft grunt in response, eating his lunch as the woman continued to debate HOW she could get her kid- Adrien… how she could get ADRIEN to attend school. Her brows furrowed as she stood up suddenly, a look of determination on her face “I’m going to talk to him again. I will MAKE him listen to me.” She said, stomping out of the room.

~~~~~~~…

Nathalie knew she should have contacted the police the moment she found out about Gabriel being Hawkmoth about four months into his super villain activities… but than he showed her Emilie and explained what happened…. and they came to a sort of… accord.

She still wasn’t happy about it. But she began to form contingency plans, just in case.

~~~~~~

Nathalie had NOT in fact forgotten Adrien’s birthday. She had gotten him a simple, impersonal gift of his favourite candies, as well as some cash in a birthday card. The fact that GABRIEL seemed to have forgotten his own sons birthdya however angered her to no end… it made it even worse when she had to use Marinette’s gift as a substitute for Adrien’s negligent father…

When Marinette had submitted designs for a contest that Gabriel was hosting, if her name was suddenly at the very top of the ‘highly recommended’ list, Nathalie wouldn’t say. (The girl was extrmly talented after all.)

~~~~~~~~~~

By Christmas of that year, Nathalie just wanted her day to end so she could go and spend Christmas with her friends. She had been helping Adrien decorate the tree, he looked so sad when he realized his father probably wouldn’t join him.

“Will you be spending Christmas with your parents Nathalie?” Adrien asked off handedly. She hadn’t meant to tense up, and defiantly hadn’t meant for Adrien to see. “Oh… unless they aren’t around anymore…”

“... no, they live in Paris.” Nathalie stated simply, hanging up another decoration. “... I just haven’t spoken to them in many years.”

“... did you have a fight?” He asked hesitantly. Nathalie hated that fact that Adrien always felt like he had to walk on eggshells around adults. She shook her head.

“No… I came out to my parents as gay, and they said that when I got over ‘my phase’ I would be welcome back to the family.” She said simply. She gave Adrien a small smile. “... I’ll be spending Christmas with Carmine and our friends.”

“Oh… that sounds nice.” He said softly.

Nathalie looked at him, that back towards the office where his father had disappeared to, glancing at Gorilla who looked at her with a raised brow.

She brought out her cellphone, typing a quick text message before pressing send. About five minutes later she got a response and she looked at Adrien.

“Adrien, if your father is still locked up in his office come Christmas dinner, you are more than welcome to stop by my apartment for dinner.”

Adrien looked at her shocked “But… what about your friends?”

“They said they would be fine with it. I’m not going to pressure you. Just know that the option is open.”

Adrien looked at her for several long seconds, a warm smile spreading across his face. “... thanks Nathalie…”

~~~~~

Nathalie always cared…. and she always will.

[jxndds]

isekai/reincarnation manhwas

Beatrice

Having previously been a slave in her youth, Chloe was revealed to be an illegitimate child of the King of Elpasa, and is raised to the level of a Princess and renamed Beatrice, all in order to secure a political marriage to a toady man, as the king was unwilling to marry his legitimate daughters to him. After two years of hellish marriage, the Kingdom of Elpasa falls before the blade of the Empire's Archduke, its greatest hero. In order to survive her new enslavement Princess Beatrice re-assumes the guise of 'Chloe' as a slave of the Empire. But then, she catches the eye of that very same hero...

The Archduke wonders who is this squirrelly short-haired young woman, who is so surprisingly educated for a slave, and who is terrified of him, not knowing that he butchered the Elpasa Royal Family in front of her and enslaved her himself. What will become of them, since she proves to be one of his only sources of levity?

 Beware of the Villainess

I became the villainess of a novel! Do I hate it? No! I find it rather nice. A duke’s daughter = a jobless rich person. How I can miss out on a chance like this?! This is the best chance to just enjoy life. I should throw out the main plot and just live life how I want to! Not long after waking up as the villainess, I witnessed my fiancé, the novel’s male lead, the crowned prince, cheating. I saw him embrace a lady other than I and he was smiling so bright. I was brought to tears… Just kidding, I didn’t cry! My tears are worth too much to be wasted on that garbage. Instead of tears, I yelled out, “Your highness, are you trash?” The main character with a personality of a refreshing soda! The girl-crush protagonist that will completely throw out the main story! Why? Because it’s a waste for a girl to be surrounded by cheap cars. (cars = men)

 Death is the Only Ending for the Villainess

Penelope Eckart reincarnated as the adopted daughter of Duke Eckart and the villainess of a reverse harem dating sim. The problem is, she entered the game at its hardest difficulty, and no matter what she does, death awaits her at every ending! Before the "real daughter" of Duke Eckart appears, she must choose one of the male leads and reach a happy ending in order to survive. But the two brothers always pick a fight with her over every little thing, as well as a crazy crown prince, whose routes all lead to death. There's even a magician who's enamoured with the female lead, and a loyal slave knight! But somehow, the favourability meters of the male leads increase the more she crosses the line with them!

 Doctor Elise

Song Ji Hyeon is a surgeon, as well as a genius doctor appointed as the youngest lecturer at Seoul University. She carries memories of a previous life as Elise De Clorence who lived as a wicked woman. Suddenly an unexpected accident occurs and when she wakes up, she's back in her previous life?! Will Elise be able to correct her past mistakes?

 Empress of Another World

Crossing over into another world and time after a freak accident, Korean highschool girl Sabina is taken in by a duke of the Crentia kingdom— only to soon be offered up to the ugly old emperor as a concubine. When the king is killed by a mysterious assassin, Sabina must face the poisonous circle of other candidates in a battle for the royal seat. Can she attract the loyalty and affection of the men and women she needs on her side to survive?

 I Am a Child Of This House

"Pink Eyes", a young girl, has lived a life filled with battery and abuse by her mother, but she has two unexpected factors that may play a role in her life: first, she has gained memories of her previous life as Seo Young, a 23 year-old Korean woman, and second, she is a nobleman's illegitimate daughter.

One day, her prostitute mother takes her to the empire's sole Duke and claims that the girl is his child to gain alimony from him. Although he seems to not believe her, he nevertheless buys "Pink Eyes" for 20,000 gold. With that, her new life as "Estelle" starts.

But what truly awaits her? And is she really a child of this house?

 I Became The Emperor's Daughter One Day

A car accident allowed her to cross the magical world, she was reincarnated to a baby! She participated in a competition and won. Then, she was adopted by the emperor and became a princess. However, the other adopted princesses are all given with luxury treatment. But why is it that only she lives in small firewood house? She is also beaten and bullied by the other princesses? She will do whatever it takes to fight back. When she shows a brave fighting spirit, the cold-blooded emperor finally came and said to her: "This little brat, is a little interesting."

 I Became the Villain's Mother

I became the mother of 'Ainspanner', who was presumed to be the final mastermind of this novel. I was supposed to be a bad stepmother who abused him when he was a child and eventually became the first to be killed by him when he became an adult.

I was thinking of a plan to escape my tragic fate when I saw the young future villain and the naive, innocent look on his face. However...

"What an adorable child! He’s so cute I want to bite him! How could anyone abuse him?"

He was so cute that I couldn’t believe he would become a villain when he grew up. So, I decided. I will protect him. This way, he’ll save me too when he’s all grown up.

 I Choose the Emperor Ending

Obsessed with medieval fantasies, Marina develops a revolutionary VR device that can bring fictional worlds to life. Her dreams come true when she transports herself to Lasnorok, the setting of her own novel. The problem is, she can't get back out! Disguised as a runaway slave boy named Rino, she comes face-to-face with the main character she created, the ambitious Edward Allen Dihas. Can Marina help him overthrow the emperor and survive to make it out alive?

 I don't want to be Empress [Empress? Empress!]

I don’t want to be the empress! Serena, the daughter of a noble is full of intelligence, status and appearance. But the truth is that she said that in her past life she was aware of the tragedies that could occur in the future. It will be that Serena can escape from this tragedy!

 Inso's Law

“I just want to live a normal life, why is this happening to me!”

Your average student Ham Dan, whose hobby was reading “Law of Inso” wakes up to a beautiful novel like heroine. But even in the world of fantasy novels, her role is no different. Stuck as the childhood friend of the heroine, her normal everyday life comes to an end, becoming more twisted by her strong character.

 Seduce the Villain's Father

Upon opening my eyes after a bus accident, I found myself in the fantasy world of a webnovel I enjoyed reading... the only catch is, I reincarnated 20 years before the novel begins! Reborn as Princess Yerenica of the small Lebovny kingdom, I'm determined to change the future in order to prevent the series of unfortunate events that will soon occur.

In the original story, my older sister, Tejavia, is pregnant with the future female lead, when she's suddenly kidnapped by the Belgoat Empire's emperor. But in my desperate attempts to protect her, I got kidnapped instead! And as if that wasn't bad enough, my body is ridiculously weak to magic. But... strangely enough, whenever I'm by the emperor, I feel fine!

The only way to save the emperor, who's destined to die at the hands of his own son after marrying the villainess, and save myself from being afflicted by magic... is for us to marry!

 Sincerely: I Became a Duke's Maid

I woke up one day inside the story of a novel as the maid of the disgraced Duke and side character, Alejandro Quillo Vel Laviti. Will Alejandro’s fate change with the my appearance as a new ‘extra’ character? What is the truth behind his cursed mark?

 Suddenly Became A Princess One Day [Who Made Me A Princess]

When I opened my eyes, I was a princess!

But why does it have to be a princess in this romance novel who has the fate of death from her own blood-related father!

If I want to live, I will have to stay away completely of his sight. However...

"Since when did this kind of scumbag started living in my castle?"

Not a single drop of blood nor tear to drop, that cruel and cold emperor, Claude!

Will Athanasia who has entered his eyes survive?

"I... What should I do..."

 Survive as the Hero's Wife

The protagonist has been reincarnated as Canaria, the villain of a popular cliché novel. According to the novel, she is destined to be executed by her husband! Determined to survive, her objective is simple: get a divorce! Will her plans be enough to save her life, or will unexpected circumstances arise to complicate matters even further?

 The Emperor's Companion

After making a deal with God, she is reincarnated into a new world fully ready to dedicate her life to her younger sibling. However, things aren't so simple when she attracts the attention of the Emperor. Can't a girl just look after her sibling with no man?

 The Emperor's Daughter [Daughter of the Emperor]

Ariadna Lereg Ilestri Pre Agrigent. And so my life begins with this ridiculously long name, born to royalty and the centre of attention — all because of one dangerous man; the veritably insane tyrant king, ruthless conqueror of ten empires, nightmare of all continents… and my father?! Will I be able to survive this maniac?

 The Evil Lady's Hero

Yunifer Magnolia was the best friend of the novel's heroine, Rael Cania, until her love for the male lead turned her into a villainess. Her harassment of Rael, Ishid's lover, condemned her to death at the hands of Cassian, the Crown Prince.

"So I reincarnated as... Yunifer?!"

This Yunifer wants to live, though! To stay safe, she decides to avoid all the main characters of the novel. But one drunken encounter with Ishid ruins all her plans...

"I don't do one-night stands."

"Then let's say we just started dating!"

Will Yunifer be able to correct her own twisted fate? Or will she face death once more, as foretold by the novel?

 The Golden-Haired Elementalist

I thought I was dead, but when I woke up, I was reincarnated as a nobleman's daughter?! The only thing I did in the seventeen years of my first life was studying. Now that I'm alive again, I won't live just to study! The second life of an ordinary middle school girl with a slightly strange personality, Jeanie Crowell, begins an unstoppable journey on this continent!

 The Justice of Villainous Woman

With a broken heart, Hwayoung falls headfirst into the river by accident but wakes up as infamous villainess Satiana Altisee Kaylon. Coming to terms with her new life as sole daughter of House Kaylon, Satiana is soon chosen as a candidate for the next empress! In the palace full of schemers and liars, she must become a cold-blooded villainess to win her royal seat by the crown prince - or her new family will face grave danger! Will being perfectly evil really be enough? ‘Cause even villains need love!

 The Pet of the Villainess [The Antagonist's Pet]

"My dear villainess, do whatever you want to do. Just don't see that son of a bitch."

A girl dies and is reincarnated as Sasha, the daughter of a poor noble family in a romance novel she used to read. To survive in her new life, she approaches noble ladies with her innocent appearance and cold wit. Hence, she got the nickname 'The Nobles' Pet.'

Rebecca, the villainess of the original work and the Prince's fiancee, appears in front of Sasha, who's using her talent to live the sweet life. Knowing the end of the original, Sasha tried to stay away from Rebecca, but she cannot take her eyes off her cool and collectedness! So Sasha uses her cuteness as a deadly weapon to stand between Rebecca and the womanizer Crown Prince... and... can Sasha survive and win Rebecca's favor?

 The Reason Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke's Mansion

Poisoned to death by her own betrothed?! Eunha didn’t wake up in a novel’s story just to get killed off again as an unfortunate extra! To change her story she needs a cover… 6 months pretending to be the fake fiancée of the novel's male protagonist, Duke Noah Wynknight. But will this cold-hearted, angel-faced demon of a man really help her avoid another ill-fated ending?!

 The Youngest Princess

The archmage who ruled over a magic kingdom.

One day, she was reborn as the youngest daughter of the empire!

“I’ll just play along and pretend to be a baby.

...But don’t you think you guys like me a little too much?”

They won’t leave her alone.

 This Is an Obvious Fraudulent Marriage

The Sophen country had been destroyed by the empire. The sole daughter of a count family, Leylin Efran, had to find a husband to be able to inherit her family. So she wouldn't have to suffer through loveless marriage, Leylin decided to find a husband to have a one-year contract marriage with. In the middle of her quest, a young and dashing man appeared before her. Leylin was convinced this is the right man for her, but is he truly the answer to Leylin's perilous situation?

 Villainous Princess

One day I woke up in the body of Violet, the villainess character of the novel "For Shannon." Violet had a beautiful face, wealth, and was even a princess! She was a woman who had almost everything but her life was ruined when she chased after the one thing she didn't have - love. Now that I'm her, I can change her fate because I don't need love!

[that-cunning-mind]

The Untitled Chuckie Sputterspark Origin Fanfic Pt.1

(Guess who wrote a fanfic for the first time in years lmao...

Read below if you want to see my take on how @based-ducks​ and me thought up of Quackervolt fankid Chuckie Sputterspark’s origin...somewhat)

As the crisp, evening air descended upon the moonlit shadows of St. Canard, a particular purplish protector of the poor found himself investigating a case of deductive interest. A case of shadowy intrigue and mystery. A case that would decide the future of St. Canard in its epic battle between good and evil.

A case of price gouging tickets at a pizza arcade.  

“Twenty dollars for an adult ticket and twelve for kids over ten years old? Why these crooked capitalist crooks, thinking they can force parents to come in here and charge them extra! I should just quit SHUSH and open up one of these places myself! I’ll be richer than Glomgold!” Part-time superhero and full-time parent Drake Mallard grumbled under his breath as he handed over his card to the tired teenager manning the cashier. His daughter, Gosalyn, was busy putting on the paper bracelets on herself and her other father, Launchpad McQuack. 

“It can’t be that profitable,” Gosalyn said, “I mean, they’re taking out all of their animatronics! Can you imagine Pepper Panda’s Pizza Pagoda without Pepper Panda and the Pie Gang? I tell ya, there’s gonna be rioting in the streets after tonight! RIOTS!!!” Launchpad, not expecting the outburst, startled and ripped his flimsy paper bracelet. 

“Eheheh,” he laughed nervously, “you guys got any tape or...”

“Ten dollars to replace any missing or broken bracelets,” said the cashier. 

Launchpad turned to his husband with big puppy-dog eyes, a method that tended to work about 99% of the time. Drake grumbled some more as he took a solitary bill out of his wallet. 

“If it wasn’t for our case,” Drake whispered harshly as they walked inside the pizza eatery, “I’d leave you outside in the car.” 

“Aww,” Launchpad pouted, “but you know how much I love coming here! Plus, I know how much the animatronics scare you, DW.”

Drake scoffed. “Scared? The daring duck detective isn’t scared of any cheaply-made robot! Drakey Mallard, on the other hand, never recovered from that time he thought Cheddar Charles was going to bite him at Elmo Sputterspark’s tenth birthday party.” As he spoke, a run down animatronic of a child-sized rat in blue overalls and a yellow shirt sprang to life, scaring Drake into Launchpad’s arms. Gosalyn just rolled her eyes and sighed. 

A crackly speaker from the animatronic known as Cheddar Charles started. “Hey kids! Pepper Panda and Pie Gang’s Nighttime Spectacular is about to start in ten minutes! Grab a seat now!”

“I’ll go grab us a table,” yelled Gosalyn as she ran to a booth. 

Launchpad let Drake climb off of him, then sniffed and wiped away a tear. “I can’t believe it, after forty years the Pie Gang is going away for good!”

“Launchpad, the case? Remember the case?” asked Drake. 

“Buh-“

“We’re here to stakeout the joint and lie in wait for that nefarious thief, Dr. Anna Matronic! Dishonorably discharged from the Imagineers, that raving robotics rascal will be using the Pie Gang’s farewell show to unveil her deadly creations. Little does she know that I, Darkwing Duck, will be waiting for her! Now, any questions?”

“Uhh, can we order the extra-large with cheese?” 

Drake simply sighed as he moved to sit down on the sticky seat. 

“Gee DW, what makes you think she’ll show up with all these people around?” asked Launchpad. 

“Because, as a former Imagineer, she’ll no doubt want to watch such a historic show one last time. Although, I can’t imagine what kind of psyche an adult must have to want to watch Pepper Panda and the Pie Gang willingly.” 

———

“Come on Megsy! I’m not gonna miss Pepper Panda and the Pie Gang’s final performance because of you!” 

Little did Darkwing Duck know that behind the scenes, his two mortal enemies Quackerjack and Megavolt would be attempting to watch the show as well. However, they were taking a break from their usual crimes and attempting to have their monthly date night, per Quackerjack’s insistence on coming to see the last hurrah of the animatronics he grew up watching. Megavolt, meanwhile, was trying to carry leftover pizza boxes up the scaffolding over the stage as he and Quackerjack prepared to take their seats. 

“You know, I think I kinda remember coming here as a kid,” said Megavolt. Quackerjack was surprised to hear this, as it was rare for Megavolt to remember anything before his fateful transformation into Megavolt. He pressed on with a simple, “Oh?”, demonstrating a rare moment of selfless interest. 

“Yeah,” Megavolt continued, “I think I had a birthday party here once. Mom forced me to invite everyone in my class, so I spent most of the day playing with the animatronics. I even got Cheddar Charles to almost bite this one duck, Jake. Or was it Lake...” Megavolt trailed off as his train of thought was derailed yet again.

“You must have been quite the kid growing up, a public nuisance in the making,” laughed Quackerjack. He looked off to the side in an almost wistful manner. “Though if I was a parent, I wouldn’t force you to hang out with any snot-nosed brats that stuck their faces into an arcade game!” Megavolt twitched, deciding not to tell Quackerjack that he definitely remembered sticking his face into arcade games as a kid, one of the happiest moments in an otherwise bullied childhood. 

But more importantly, Megavolt picked up on Quackerjack’s wistful tone and cursed himself internally for bringing up his childhood. “Come on Quacky,” he whined, “we’ve been through this already. We can’t just-“ 

“Well, so what?” interrupted Quackerjack, “It’s just not fair! Lots of kids have parents that go to jail!” 

“Yeah, but their parents aren’t criminal masterminds guilty of trespassing, theft, vandalism, and littering!” 

Quackerjack pouted, “You throw a banana peel on the ground one time...”

“I’m serious Quacky,” Megavolt frowned, “we can’t just bring a kid into the super-villain business! Do you want to be like Dorkwing and have a pipsqueak get in our way?” 

“Need I remind you,” hissed Quackerjack, “that his pipsqueak is fully capable of handling herself?”

“Ugh,” shuddered Megavolt, “don’t. Remind. Me. I still have the bruise marks from the last hostage attempt...”

“See?! The two of us could totally take care of a kid! All a kid really needs is food, a loving home, a pocket grenade...,” Quackerjack droned on, almost forgetting the point of his argument. Megavolt had to snap him back to reality if he was ever going to finish this conversation. 

“Hey don’t get me wrong, it’d be nice to have some kids that aren’t just the poor, enslaved bulbs of St. Canard,” said Megavolt. “But, don’t tell me you aren’t the tiniest bit worried of screwing the kid up?” At this, Quackerjack pursed his lips and went uncharacteristically still, not daring to look at Megavolt in the eye.  

“Besides,” Megavolt continued, “what if we go to jail without it? How would a normal kid protect itself? What if F.O.W.L or Negaduck found out about them and-“

“Oh alright fine! You’ve made your point, gloomy pants!” Megavolt shut his mouth quickly, turning to get a slice of week-old pizza and hopefully move on from this talk. Quackerjack pulled out his beloved Mr. Banana Brain, in an effort to calm himself before his temper took over. “Some date night this is! I’ve seen better chemistry in a high school science lab!” 

“Butt out, banana boy!” Megavolt grumbled. “Great, could this date get any worse?” 

The explosion that rocked the building answered that question. 

———

The duck family ducked under their table as dust filled the room, sending screaming families in a panic. A giant hole had opened up in front of the stage, and from it rose a goose in a purple trench-coat honking maliciously. This was-

“Dr. Matronic!” Drake shielded Gosalyn behind himself as Dr. Matronic climbed onto the stage. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she cried out, “children of all ages! To all who come to this happy place, Pepper Panda’s Pizza Pagoda is now MY Pizza Pagoda! Which means the animatronics are now mine to keep! Mwahonkhonkhonk!”

Gosalyn stuck out her tongue in disgust. “Ugh, you call that an evil laugh? A baby would sound more menacing than that!” 

“Never mind that now,” said Drake, “we’ve got to get these people out of here! Launchpad, Gosalyn, evacuate the building while I keep her busy.” With a plan of action in place, the daring duck of mystery went off to find a broom closet to change in. Unfortunately, it was a very tight squeeze, as Drake tried to change and avoid the brooms at the same time. 

“This night couldn’t possibly get worse...,” muttered Drake. 

——

“Megavolt! That stupid doctor just ruined our date night!” Quackerjack’s temper had come out in full force, and now he was ready to let it all out. 

“The nerve of some people! I mean, who breaks into a pizza parlor and steals the animatronics??” Megavolt yelled. Sparks started to fly as he locked onto the target of his ire, who was beginning to disassemble the helpless robots. “D’ohhh! Well at least it can’t get any worse.”

The blue smoke cloud that burst out answered that. 

“Gah! Will you stop saying that!” shouted Quackerjack. 

“I am the terror that flaps in the night!”

“I am the cheese pizza that burns on the taste buds of crime! I am Darkwing Duck!” Like clockwork, the purple caped crusader appeared out of the smoke. 

“Oh no. It’s Darkwing Duck. Whatever shall I do,” said Dr. Matronic, not intimidated in the slightest. Failing to frighten his foe, Darkwing pulled out his gas gun as his mood worsened. 

“Listen here doc! I may not like these rusty robots, but there’s no way I’ll let you take them away! Now suck gas, evildoer! Schpadoink!” As he shot off a canister of knockout gas, a Dalmatian puppy came out from behind Dr. Matronic and caught the canister, throwing it away from the doctor. 

“What the-!” 

“So,” Dr. Matronic grinned maliciously, “you don’t like rusty robots, eh? Well, I’m sure you’ll find that they have their uses!” Dr. Matronic pulled a walkie-talkie from her coat, and yelled, “Code 101: ATTACK!!” 

From the crevice, a noise of barking and howling approached, growing louder and louder until from out of the hole, one hundred robotic Dalmatians came bursting out. 

Darkwing gulped, hoping to hide his nervousness. “Alright, you digital dog deviants, prepare to face the might of Dark-AAAACK!!” The dogs never let him finish, immediately pouncing on Darkwing and biting everything that belonged to the flapping terror. 

“WHAT IS IT WITH YOU AND DALMATIANS!!!” 

“Well, since you’re tied up at the moment, I might as well explain my origin story,” said Dr. Matronic as she got to work detaching the Pie Gang from the stage. “You see, those Imagineer fools said it was impossible to make one hundred and one animatronics! They said it was too expensive! That I was a lunatic! Well who’s laughing now, huh?! Mwahonkhon-AHH!” 

Before the doctor could finish her evil laugh, a bolt of electricity from behind the stage curtain zapped her and sent her flying off the stage. In her hands she grasped the Cheddar Charles figurine, the remote controlling the chaotic canines flying off somewhere else. 

Megavolt stepped out onto the stage, a wide manic grin on his face as his hands lit up. “Well, looks like we’re the ones laughing now, and much better at it too! Aheeheeheeheee!” With a flick of a wrist, Megavolt shot another electric bolt at the pack of piranha-like puppies, putting a stop to their attack on the poor, punctured defender in purple as they scattered off.  

“Th-thanks for that...Megavolt,” Darkwing said shakily, as he attempted to stand up and not jostle his wounds at the same time. “Wait a minute, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?! I swear, if that lunatic toy-maker Quackerjack is here too I’ll-“

What Darkwing would do, Megavolt would never know, for at that moment Quackerjack decided to introduce himself with one of his patented exploding toys. Laughing maniacally, he took out his signature mallet as he attempted to stomp out any robot trying to attack him. Dr. Matronic began turning her attention towards the most annoying threat in the room, directing robot after robot at Quackerjack. 

“What, did all the freaks decide to come out tonight?!” yelled Dr. Matronic, as she whipped out a small flamethrower aimed at Quackerjack. The jester merely giggled and blew raspberries as he dodged all of her flame attacks. Darkwing and Megavolt, however, were not as lucky, and had to hide behind an overturned table to avoid the flames. 

“Oh great,” sighed Darkwing, “the cherry on top of my already lousy sundae. Could this possibly get any worse?” Megavolt let out a yipe and braced himself. 

“Uhh, you alright there Mega-,” asked Darkwing, before Megavolt clasped a hand around his bill. 

“Don’t say that again! The universe has been more vindictive than usual today whenever somebody says that!”

“Alright alright, I’ll stop! Now, either help get me rid of this riddle-some ridicule of our rights, or GET OUT!” Megavolt’s train of thought got back on track, his temper overtaking him as he remembered his terrible night. 

“Uhh, Sparky-“ said Darkwing, before a stray bolt from Megavolt zapped him away as the electric rodent turned back to Dr. Matronic. 

“YOU RUINED DATE NIGHT!!!” roared Megavolt. Darkwing was dumbfounded, for once Megavolt hadn’t responded to his hated nickname of Sparky. Dr. Matronic began to worry, as she was inexperienced against the full force of the Quackervolt duo. Darkwing stepped back, hoping to get the upper hand as the villains fought each other when who should appear but Gosalyn.

“Don’t worry Darkwing, I’ll help ya!” cried Gosalyn. 

“Gosalyn, NO!” Darkwing dived towards his daughter, shielding her from the wayward flames with his cape as he caught the full brunt of the attack. Dr. Matronic took the time to gloat evilly at her fallen foe. 

“Well well well, guess the Pizza Pagoda is serving roast duck tonight! MWAHAHAHAH! How’s that for an evil laugh, by the way?” In her distraction, she failed to notice Megavolt and Quackerjack charging up the remaining animatronics, bringing them back to life. 

“Hey lady, ever heard of the Bite of ‘87!?” they both yelled. 

“The Bite of ‘87? That’s just a-“ Dr. Matronic looked back and saw the looming, terrifying animatronics trudging towards her. She gulped.

“...Just a myth,” she finished quietly. 

As the robots began their attack, Launchpad came in and helped Darkwing to his feet. “Gee DW, how’re we gonna stop those three?” 

“Oww, can’t we jus’...let ‘em kill each other?” Darkwing meekly asked. 

Gosalyn, guilty over her father’s second degree burns, tried to remember about any useful information pertaining to the animatronics. 

“Well, I read online that old robots used to explode from time to time...” she suggested. Inspiration struck Darkwing, reaching into his pockets for a special gas canister. 

“Launchpad, hand me my gas gun!”  With his weapon in hand, Darkwing loaded up the canister and aimed between the animatronics. “Get behind that column,” he motioned. 

Megavolt, taking a break from the action that was almost too exciting to put in words, took a side glance to see Darkwing’s fan club hiding behind a concrete column. As he wondered what was going on, the duck pulled out his gas gun and yelled, “hey Dr. Matronic, see if your pooches can stop this knockout gas!” 

Darkwing shot out the canister towards the animatronics and quickly took cover. As planned, Dr. Matronic took aim with her flamethrower, unable to tell the difference between knockout gas and explosive gas. 

FWOOSH! 

KABAM!! 

“SHPOOSH-“

“Dad! Do ya have t’ make sound effects right now?” 

“Oh, right, sorry,” Darkwing sheepishly said. “Well, better make sure no one died or anything.” As the smoke dissipated, he could see Dr. Matronic knocked out on the ground, singed and certainly not triumphant. Quackerjack, who had tried to run from the explosion, was somehow still standing, albeit close to passing out at any second. Behind them, all of the animatronics were nothing more than scrap, their somewhat cute faces now melted and resembling characters in a subpar horror video game franchise. 

Megavolt was nowhere to be seen. 

“Uh-oh, Megavolt?” The prospect of being arrested for manslaughter began to unnerve Darkwing.  “Hey Quackster, you seen your boyfriend anywhere?” 

The only thing Quackerjack heard through his concussion was ‘Megavolt’, and tried to snap out of his daze as best as he could. 

“Megsy! Sparky-poo, where are you!? Ooooh, I’m gonna get you for this Darkwing Duck!” But before Quackerjack could get him, the sound of police sirens could be heard in the distance. 

“Mmm, but maybe not today,” said Quackerjack, and then took out Mr. Banana Brain. “Time to hit the road, Toad,” he said in a falsetto voice. 

“MEGAVOLT! See you at the hideout!” And Quackerjack ran backstage, toppling over Launchpad who had attempted to catch him. 

“Ah geez, sorry DW, he got away. Should we go after him?”

“Nah,” said Darkwing, “I’ve got enough on my plate with Miss Robot over here. Also I gotta make sure Megavolt didn’t explode or something,...”

“Ughhh,” groaned Dr. Matronic, “that’s DOCTOR- wait. The animatronics! What have you done to them you fiend?!” Before she could freak out entirely, the police came in, slapping handcuffs on her and leading her away. 

“Why I say I say, ah-thank you Mr. Duck sir.” 

The team looked back and saw a rotund rooster in a tacky pizza print suit come up to them, taking Darkwing’s hand and shaking it profusely. “I am the owner of this here establishment, Rolan N. Dough the Third, thought you may call me Mr. Dough. I must congratulate you sir on a job well done!” 

“Ah-yep, yep, yep, all in a day’s work for Darkwing Duck, Mr. Dough!”

“So you’re not mad that he blew up your animatronics?” piped up Gosalyn. Darkwing hurriedly placed his hand over her bill, “Gosalyn! Ix-nay on the obot-ray! Ahaha, kids...” 

“On the contrary, Mr. Duck, I’m overjoyed! Thanks to you, I’m gonna save a fortune on properly preserving those robotic freaks! And receive a rather sizable insurance check! A nice little profit for today’s events!” 

Darkwing soured, remembering his distaste for the Pizza Pagoda once more. “You’re welcome, sir.”  

“I simply must reward you! How does a coupon for a free pizza sound?” 

Launchpad’s stomach rumbled at the sound of that. “Gee DW, can we cash it in now?” 

Darkwing sighed, “Fine, fine, we’re not coming back here anytime soon.”

As Launchpad and Mr. Dough made their way to the pizza station, Darkwing crouched down to check on Gosalyn for any injuries. 

“You ok?” he asked. “I mean, aside from seeing your favorite pizzeria in ruins that is?” 

“Yeah,” she sighed, “I’m just sad the Pie Gang met their end like that.”

“Well it’s an Italian eatery owned by a Southerner themed around China, it was bound to end horribly. You gotta admit though, it was a pretty cool explosion.”

“Okay yeah, it was pretty cool. I mean the way that flamethrower just went GWOOSH and the canister was like SCHPAAAAM! Not too bad from Darkwing and his helpful sidekicks, huh?”

“Oh, that reminds me, you’re still in trouble for running in like that.”

“WHAT? Daaa-uh, I mean, Darkwiiiing!” The two walked away, preparing to stop Launchpad from spending more than $50 on pizza. 

“Hmm, I feel like I’m forgetting something though,” said Darkwing.

“Ah well, I’m sure it was nothing important,” reassured Gosalyn. 

———

In the subterranean hole where Dr. Matronic had come from, Megavolt had begun to regain consciousness, slowly sitting up as he willed the surroundings to stop spinning. 

“Owwww, that’s it, next date night will be at the mini golf...” 

From below, he could hear the faint voice of Quackerjack at hysterics, then fading away. Then he heard the shrill voice of Dr. Matronic screaming over the ruined animatronics. Megavolt perked up, remembering the explosion with clarity now. 

“NO NO NO! The animatronics! Darkwing Duck and that stupid doctor lady ruined my childhood! This is worse than that reboot of my favorite movie with an all-female cast! Why I oughta-OW!!”

In his rage, Megavolt failed to notice an object in his path, and stubbed his already fragile toe against it. He was prepared to blast it to smithereens, when he noticed something familiar about the object. 

Something metallic. 

“Wait...it can’t be,” he muttered. He crouched down, digging through the rubble until the object was set free. It was Cheddar Charles, banged up a little but perfectly intact. 

“Oh you poor thing,” Megavolt cooed, “you must’ve fallen down here after that mean old Darkwing blew us up!” He cradled the orphaned robotic mouse in his arms, feeling his paternal instinct flare up as he gently dusting the dirt off of it. A ghost of a childhood memory panged within him, recalling a time in his life when he felt safe and loved, unaware of the harsh realities of life that would face him later on.

Was it too insane to believe that he could pass that love on to something else?

He loved Quackerjack. He loved his life of lightbulb liberation. But if Megavolt was honest with himself, maybe there was something nice to the whole family concept. Maybe the idea of taking care of something and watching it grow with someone he loved seemed exciting to him. Maybe Darkwing had the right idea about having a kid sidekick-

Nope. It’d be a cold, day in Hell before Megavolt would admit to being jealous of Darkwing Duck. 

He took out one of his trusty light bulbs to illuminate the scene, when an idea came to him. 

“Wait a minute,” he said, “Quacky and I want a kid. This little guy doesn’t have a family anymore. That means...that means! Wait, where was I going with this?”

The Cheddar Charles let out a shock, charging up Megavolt once more. 

“Oh right! Welcome to the family, new son! This is gonna turn out way better than that time I split Darkwing into two.” He took his son into his arms, already bonding with the temporarily lifeless robot. 

“But ya know, Cheddar Charles is kinda long for a name. How about I call you...Chuckie!” 

------

Meanwhile, on the other side of town…

“OH MY GOD,” cried out Drake Mallard, “I BLEW UP MEGAVOLT!”

[all-might-blog]

Back in kindergarten

Summary:

Things don't go as planned and soon the students of Class 1A are back in kindergarden... and guess who are the people who have to take care of them...?!

Notes:

This is gonna be fun to write! Technically, this fanfic was inspired by a funny fanart I came across today. Technically, all the students are (drumroll please!) kindergardeners! The teachers (in the fanart, it's only All Might and Eraserhead, but here I am also gonna add in Present Mic) are wearing pink aprons. Oh, and it's made in the form of a comic strip. In the first panel, Eraserhead is holding an apple and saying: "You have five apples and your friend asks for three apples. How many do you have left?" In the second panel, it shows All Might, Todoroki and Izuku in the background (All Might is holding a tray of baked goods and the other two are looking up at them) and Bakugou is sitting at a table. He says "Five.". Guess why? XD In the next panel, we see Eraserhead looking very annoyed. He sighs and says "... You have five apples and your friend asks BY FORCE for three apples. How many do you have left now?" The next panel is by far the funniest. Why? "Fives apple and a corpse." Bakugou says. In the background, the other three are looking very surprised and shocked to hear this. So... I am gonna write something including this scene, but I am also gonna add in other bits with the rest of the students :D Enjoyyyyy!

This is the picture: 

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

“This is bad.” Eraserhead said, looking at his class. Or what had been his class. The group of laughing, screaming kindergarteners he had had to tie up with his scarf were not his students. Or at least, they had been…? It was all confusing.

“The effects should wear off in an hour or so, according to the villain…” All Might said next to him, looking down at the kids with a thoughtful expression.

“According to the villain.” Eraserhead repeated. “We don’t actually know if what he told us was true. At least none of us were affected.”

“What should we do?” Mic asked.

“Well… until the effects wear off…” All Might said.

“Wait… are we gonna be nannies for them or something?”

“I am afraid that that’s what’s going to happen.” Eraserhead said, already dreading what was to come.

“Aw, come on, you guys! I am sure it won’t be that hard.” All Might said, looking down at the kids. Mic and Eraserhead exchanged doubtful glances.

“Whatever you say. What should we do? We have to find a way to entertain the lot of them.” Mic said.

10:09 pm

"You have five apples and your friend asks for three apples. How many do you have left?" Eraserhead held up the red apple for Bakugou to see. He was dressed in his usual clothes- with a pink apron over it, since they had just been doing a short baking session. He, Bakugou, Iida, Kouda, Jirou and Ashido were seated at a small table that the teachers had set up. All Might was holding a pan lined with freshly baked muffins and a smile on his face, with Kaminari, Izuku, Todoroki, Satou, Kirishima, Hagakure, Asui and Ojiro crowded at his feet, asking for muffins in their squeaky voices. Mic was entertaining the rest of the class in the other room by tuning his voice and singing.

“Five.” Bakugou said. Eraserhead sighed.

“You have five apples and your friend asks by force for three apples. How many apples do you have left now?”

“Five apples and a corpse.” Bakugou said with a grin on his face. There was a long silence in which the kids at the table stared at their classmate with horrified faces. The others had also fallen quiet, staring at Bakugou with similar expressions.

“What?” Bakugou said, crossing his arms. “Everyone knows that no one should take stuff from me.”

10:18 pm

“Carry me too!” Sero said, jumping up and down excitedly. All Might stood in his flesh form, more than half of the kids sitting on his shoulders, head and arms.

“Sero, my boy, I don’t think I will be able to,” All Might said. Not because they were too heavy, but because it was hard not to accidentally drop them with how much they were squirming.

“Pleaseeeeeee?” Uraraka begged, pulling at his pant’s legs.

“I can’t-”

“ PLEASEEEEEEEEEE?! ” the two children begged as one. All Might sighed.

“All Right. Denki, Kirishima, would you be kind and let your class-”

“NO!” the two boys shouted in his ears. All Might let out a long suffering sigh.

“I shouldn’t have fed you guys muffins…”

10:26 pm

“Aizawa?!” Mic shouted.

“I am teaching the kids the difference between villains and superheroes right now, Mic. I’m busy.”

“Yeah, but Mineta might get torn apart by the girls.”

“WHAT?!”

“He tried to look under Momo’s skirt. I told him not to- NO! MOMO, I TOLD YOU NOT TO THROW KNIVES! PUT. THEM. DOWN !!!”

10:37 pm

“I take back what I said about this being easy,” All Might said, collapsing down on a chair.

“See?”

“Since when could little children get so… hyper after feeding them a tiny muffin?”

“That is a mystery unknown to us adults.” Mic patted his shoulders before going back to tying Momo, Denki and Mina with a piece of Eraserhead’s scarf.

“What…?”

“Mineta did it again. I had to do something , right?”

10:38 pm

“No, Bakugou, just because they have cool quirks, it does not mean they are heroes.” Eraserhead said.

“So are you a villain?” Shouji asked.

“Wha- what makes you think that?”

“See, you are dressed in black.” Shouji said.

“And you are grumpy.”

“And boring. Boring too!”

“And not a little bit of shine!” Aoyama added, flicking a strand of hair from his head.

Eraserhead exhaled a shaky breath, trying very hard not to slap them into tomorrow.

Patience, he thought, they are just kids.

“And this class is boring. Can we play or do something else?” Fumikage said.

“All right then.” Eraserhead towered over them.

“Yep, he definitely reminds me of a villain,” Hagakure said as they all shrunk back.

“Mr. Eraserhead?” Midoriya squeaked.

“Let’s play a game. Let’s see who can stay quiet for the longest time. Winner gets a muffin. Got it?”

“YES!” they all shouted.

10:46 pm

“How the hell did you manage to keep them all quiet?” All Might whispered with awe, looking around at the peaceful kids that had been absolutely hyper not long ago.

“I bribed them. And we have ten minutes to go before the hour finishes.” Eraserhead replied.

“Did any of you get any pictures of them?” Mic asked.

“I might have snapped just a few…” All Might admitted.

“Same.” Mic held up his phone and showed them a pretty cute picture of Todoroki, Tsuyu, Mezou, Momo, Midoriya and Bakugou all sitting on All Might’s lap when the ex-hero had been in his flesh form. He then showed them a picture of Jirou plucking at the strings of a guitar she had found.

“Yeah, you have to admit they are kinda cute when they are not… is it right to call them little monsters?” All Might asked with a nervous smile (this got him furious glares from Kirishima and Bakugou, the latter giving him a kick in the shins).

The door opened and Eri came in, followed by Mirio.

“Well, what happened here?” Mirio asked, looking around at the quiet kids. They all looked up at him with curiosity, but not one of them opened their mouths to say a thing.

“It’s… a long story.” Mic said.

“Yeah… I can see that.” Mirio said.

“Wait, is that Mister Deku?” Eri pointed at Midoriya, who was drawing a scribbly All Might on a paper with a few crayons, lying on his stomach and tongue sticking out with concentration.

“Like Mic said, long story.” All Might said, looking at the picture and considering asking Midoriya if he could keep it or to just take it with the account that his successor wouldn’t get mad.

“Then… I won’t ask.” Eri said.

10:53 pm

“Wow, none of them have said a word.” Mic mused. “Looks like we will have to bake a new batch of muffins.” All Might said.

“That depends on if any of them will actually make a sound.” Eraserhead said, crossing his arms.

“But… what if one of them does and he or she is the one getting left out?” Mic asked.

“Logical rouse.” was Eraserhead’s only reply.

“Ah…”

10:57 pm

“Okay, the lot of you were really quiet.” Eraserhead said, standing up. They all looked at him, the question in their big eyes. “Yeah, you can speak now.”

A billion questions related to the promised muffins were suddenly shot at him. He silenced them with a single look.

“You will all get your promised prizes, but first we are gonna have to bake them.” he said.

“Wha-?” Ojiro suddenly clamped his hands over his mouth, tail curling around his legs. He was growing green.

“He’s gonna pu-”

Ojiro suddenly let out all his lunch on the carpeted ground.

“-ke.” Mic finished. Ojiro coughed.

“I don’t feel so good.” he mumbled. Then he suddenly began to change, growing larger and different until he was back to being his old self.

“Wait- they are all gonna go through the same!” All Might cried, jumping to his feet. “Kids, follow me! And be quick about it!” he ran to the toilets, the rest of the class trotting after him. Many of them already looked sick as they clamped their small hands over their mouths. One by one, their students returned from the toilets, looking tired, sick and worn out.

“I feel like I could sleep for days on end,” Ashido said, collapsing on the couch with a groan. “What the hell…?”

“I feel you, sempai.” Sero said, collapsing next to her with a sigh. Soon their class was back to normal. All Might returned with a mop and a bucket and Midoriya and Ojiro (who felt guilty about it) helped him scrub Ojiro’s lunch from the floor, noses scrunched at the smell.

“That was a nightmare. I was stuck as a five year old…” Kirishima said.

“The nightmare was for us ,” Mic said, arms crossed, “you kids must have worn your parents out as children.”

“Do we still get the muffins you promised?” Satou asked.

Eraserhead sighed. “A promise is a promise, isn’t it?"

[dylawa]

Having Lived and Loved: The Playlist (Part 4)

Here is Part 4 (and, for now, the final part I believe!) to my HLAL Playlist description series! The purpose of this post is to put all the important songs in one place, as well as add descriptions for where they fit in, and my reasoning as such. I’ll put it all under a Read More of course.

The series is split up since I can only share five videos per post, so know you’re entering in media-res if you haven’t read the first post! I will also mention, there will be more songs in the playlist than there are directly mentioned in this series of posts. That is because the playlist will include all songs related to the chapters’ titles, not just the ones that have significance character/story-line wise. Links to all parts and the full playlist are at the bottom of the post!

For this part, we’ll be focusing on character-specific pieces outside of Comet’s immediate circle in the agency. There may a character or two that you didn’t expect, but I promise I’m not including them just to fill the post.

Let’s start!

Chikashi: “Radio Ga Ga” -- Queen

Ah, Chikashi, the Present Mic before Present Mic. Hizashi actually makes a cameo in Chapter 3 of “if i could be half of what you think of me”. Seriously, if you didn’t catch it, go back and see if you can find him! He’s also half-mentioned in Chapter 5, but that one’s less obvious.

Chikashi loves his job, but he’s no hero, and that I don’t mean that in a foreboding way-- he’s literally just isn’t a hero. Being a radio host is his only job; he’s not up to his eyeballs in work like Hizashi, but that’s probably for the better; his soothing Quirk relies on a calm and happy state of mind to properly function. Otherwise, he would just be like any other old radio host, and he relies on his power to give him the upper edge over his competition. The persona he puts on for the radio waves is hardly any different from his normal disposition, and he genuinely wants to be seen as a friend you come home to after a long day, regardless of your line of work, your walk of life, or any other factor.

He understands radio is nowhere near the powerhouse of media it used to be, and he’s been offered a spot on TV multiple times to make up for it, but over the years, Chikashi has stayed true to the medium he knows and loves. Perhaps a podcast isn’t entirely out of the question, however...

Radar (and Chameleon): “Remember the Name” -- Fort Minor

So, while we’re mostly talking about the human-oriented sonar hero, Radar, his shape shifting, invisibility cloaking husband Chameleon also falls into significance for this song. Both heroes have less than memorable Quirks to the population at large, so they’ve had to work twice as hard in order to make names for themselves, Radar moreso than his spouse. They never would have made it as far as they have without each other to lift the other up, but with all of that in mind, neither Radar nor Chameleon actually care about the status and fame that comes with being heroes. The only reason they want to be remembered is so people know who to call when they’re in danger or need a specific set of skills. Plus, it helps to bring in enough money to live comfortably.

Besides for his ability to find humans with pinpoint accuracy, Radar doesn’t have any physical benefits related to his Quirk. Like Aizawa, he had to work hard to train his body to handle the stresses of being a hero in a world where most villains could easily toss him through a brick wall, and he relies on an assortment of gadgetry to further bolster his skills. However, he’s also surrounded by heroes of similar godly might to the villains he faces, and as a result is far harder on himself than he should be, in terms of comparing himself to others. The events of WWICB have left him severely shaken, and the path to recovery will be long and difficult, but Chameleon makes sure to remind him that what they do is “ten percent luck, twenty percent skill, Fifteen percent concentrated power of will.”

As long as he has his will, he’s just as worthy as all the other heroes around him.

Tengu: “City of Lights” -- Tape Five

This will be more apparent in the next main installment to the series, but Tengu, while he does have his hero license and is able to operate as such, is in fact, more detective aligned! His character was heavily inspired by Nick Valentine from Fallout 4, and though he’s not as, ahem, “aged,” he’s still even slightly older than All Might at this point in the story (mid thirties, about; I know the age difference may be off-putting for some people now that the knowledge it out there, but Comet’s an adult, and Tengu’s an adult, and there’s already a six year difference in age between Comet and AM, anyways).

He heavily follows the detective noir aesthetic, and, though he is far more compassionate and optimistic than counterparts in film depictions, operates in a similar manner; follow the law and stop evil-doers (though perhaps occasionally breaking the law to do so may be for the greater good), never leave a damsel in distress, and roll with the blows swung your way so you can get back up as quick as you can. And, while Tengu is more optimistic about the state of the world and the people in it, he is less so in regards to himself.

The man is, secretly, a wreck: he maintains a suave and confident composure to the rest of the world, but his assistant, Isa, knows better. She’s been there to watch him drink himself under his desk, lamenting how his life is passing him by, and for all the good he has done and will do, it will never be enough, for the world, or for himself. The self loathing is strong with this one, but he will never let that side be shown to the rest of the world. They need him to smile, tell them everything’s going to be alright. Maybe if he keeps at it for long enough, he’ll believe it for himself.

Like a dream Everything is good here Everything is right But with the coming of the dawn I can clearly see See the lights they walked in Scene is no place for me

The next character is one we have not yet met, but I think you guys will like her!

Pitchout: “I am” -- AWOLNNATION

Pitchout, also known as the Curveball Heroine, will make her first appearance in the upcoming fic, “now i’m sure that it’s true.” It will come to be known that she is very honest both to herself and to the media, even at the potential cost of her public image, and works primarily alone, stating essentially that it’s not a good idea to make friends when they may eventually “go up to bat for the other team.” When asked a question, she’ll always do her best to answer honestly, if not brutally, and this brutality follows her into her line of work, where she wields a bat with little mercy. Her Quirk allows her to throw an item and control its motion in the air, and, should she strike something with her bat, the same control is transferred that way.

However, despite these shortcomings, Pitchout genuinely wants to be seen as a good hero, just perhaps not a “traditional” hero. She won’t make changes to herself to fit the societal standard of a hero worth looking up to, and wants to be accepted for who she is. However, she has made it clear she will “follow the rulebook” to the letter, easing any concerns about her unorthodox approach to the personality a hero generally portrays.

These friends of mine will come and go I'm the first to leave, the last to know I'll be swimming in a face of flames For these friends of mine I've overpaid And I guess I wanted, I guess I wanted I just want you to know (To know, to know, to know) All of these things make me who I am Maybe, all of these things make me who I am Maybe, all of these things make me who I am And I am only looking on it with my hands down

I feel like talking more about Pitchout would spoil her storyline, so with that, I’m going to wrap up this first chapter of discussing the HLAL playlist! Links to the other parts and playlists are of course, down below, but in the meanti̶m̵e̷,̷ ý̵̧̱̬̲̺̳̉͗͐̏͠ȍ̵̫̉̃̒̚͘u̵̳͇̪̖̐͌͊̍̈́͝ ̴̳̻̟̼͇̔͗s̸̠̲̲̜̽h̸̰̲̺̙̰͖̾͝͝o̴̞͉̥̮̖͐͝ͅu̶̖̒͑l̶̝̱͉̖̬̞͑͘ḓ̶̐͐̓͋̓͝ b̵̢̧̧͇͇̙̱̰̻̞̜͔̦͊͐͝ė̷̡̧͍͙̟͖̫̟̅͐̈̽̏͂̂̅̂̄̑̓́̎̊͘͜͠ ̸̹͚̾̉̾̈́̓̏͑̀̔ͅw̴̡̨͇̝͚͚̣͍̯̆̽̔̿̋ą̷̢̧̛̛̭͙̩̙̼̥̱̤̲̖̫͎̞̬̎̋̑́̓̄̽̏̕͜r̵͕̪̜̳̥̺̍̽́̾͌̊̈́̒̍̈́͒́͑͜y̷̧̨͚̺̣̟̻͙͇͙̯̯͔̳̕ͅ, ̷̨̠̦̜̲̫̓̉̍͒̀͊̀̆̀̒̐̎͊͊̾̓̐̂̏̅̇͘̕͠ ̷̨̠̦̜̲̫̓̉̍͒̀͊̀̆̀̒̐̎͊͊̾̓̐̂̏̅̇͘̕͠f̵̧̡̛̛̛̛̞̲̥̦̲͎̳̜̦̦̹͓͙͖̲͕̮̭̩̲̦̰̦̳̩̮͌̈́̀̊̆̃͑͒̉͑̋͋̓̃̏̿̅̋̅̒͘̚͘̚̕͜͠ͅo̸̧̤͕̗̩̝̬͆̓̎͂̊̌̂̓̿͊̊͌̋͋̒̐͑̈́͋̎͋̊̅́͊̕̚͝r̷̡̢̨̳̲͓͓̯̭̭̟̥̬̥̣͙͈̙̼̮̰̠͈̝͕͕̹͚͚̯̗̂̔́̈́͒̆̃̇̽̉͌́̈̑̀̀͛͋́̎̌͘̚͜͝ͅ ̴̧̡̡̧̛̬̯̘̬̳̼̟͇͕̲̭̠̥͖̼͖͚̣̙̩̥̤̹͈̝̱̠̠̗͖̭̤͔̭̫̖̳̦̦̱͆̊̍̓̑͒̇͑̾͌́́̔̉͒͒̃̎̓̐̓͌͒̏́̓̚͘̚͝͠͝ͅş̷̹̱͓̱͙͖͍̯̠̩͖̙̤̦̬͓̊̋̈̃̃̐̏̎͋̑͐̈̎͂̏͐̌̈͋̋̎̀͆͐̂̚̕̕͘o̵̡̡͙̯̻̫̞̖̼͙̙̪̺̣̜͉̜̩̰̾͜m̷̘̄͌̑̑̌͛͒̍̓̈̑͛̓̑͠e̴͔̙̿̽̓̊̃͊͝t̸̢̨̢̧̨̛̛̩͚̙͖̩̹͉͔͉̟̹̪̫̞͓̤̬͇̱̖̖̭̬͇̺̠̣̟̣̻͔̞̣̥͇͂̆̓̀̀̂̈́̌̈̾̐͊̓̓͗͌́͗̍̏̆̚͜͜͝͠ͅh̸̨̨̛̛̥̣̖͉̱͚̝͕̞̤̠̱̪̠̺͓̩̗̻̬̥̘̠͚͙̝̩́̀̊̇͗̉̔̒́̆̍͗͆̌̅͊̾͑̒̍̉̆͒́̈́̃̽̄̕͜͜͜͝͝͝ḯ̶̧̢̧̛͉̮̞̭̲̘̻͔̫̤̲̖̮̦̭̪͙̦̝̥̺͓̉̐̑͛͒̎͐͂̄̊̔̓͋͑̑̓͒̓͑̽̋̀̈́̓͗̓̿̌̈́͐̃͆̑͗̚͝͝͝͝͠ņ̷̛̭̬̜͕̺̘̗̳̳̹̠̳͈͚̦͑͂̾͛̋͂̑͛̂̍̆̍͆͊̈́̽͛͌̿͂̐̊̀̄͗̒̔͂͌̈́̎̈́̅͑̕͘͘͜͠g̷̡̡̬̗͇̪̖̝̙͍̗̤͔̥̹͍͕͓̯̹̲͍͕͍͇͚̜͍̝̰̬̙̈́̿͌̄̕ͅͅͅ ̴̧͕̺̯͆͐̓̂̑̏̋͒̓͗̀̔̆̈́͒̀̍̾͊͒̀́̂͘͠i̶̢̧̧̡̨̨̡̫͚͇̲̟̠̼͈̥̩̹͇̜̪̟̥̹̠̖̖͎̳̥̜͓̼̟͓̞̮̙͆̿̃̂͛͂̄́͋̀̈́͐̚͜͜͜ͅs̸̨̡̨̛̹̝̫͎̜̩̬̗͉̱̘̫͚̃̅̏̊̀̈́͋͛͑̍̏̓̉́̔́̃̐͑͌̓̀̐̃̅͆͌̓̈́͗̀̈̕͜͝͠͠͠ͅͅ ̸̡̨͖̳̻̪͒̃̇͆̔́͌̽́̏̒̀̚̚͠c̴̡̼͓͎͔͔̻̮̼͎̰̙̼̈́́͛h̸̨̡̻̦̤̟̮͖̤̼̱͓̠̳͖̘̯̫͚͎̺̬̳͎̟͖͕͍̙̻̰͉͈̦̖̮͈̪̥̖̻̙̭̆̌ͅạ̶̮̥̊̋n̸̨̙̤̮̥̩̠̦̺̦̱̪̬̟̝͉̳̯̪̹̩͕̳̤̙̙̻̮̟̖͎͙̪̬̓̈́͗̀̃̓͂͛̊́̂̎̑͘̕͜ͅͅg̶̢̖̫̦̗̦̈́̑͒͒̄̾̍͛̃̇̄́͒̄̂͌́͌̐͆́̊͂͆̾̔̔͛̚̕͝

4̷̢͚̞̹̜͖̤͕͚͓̣͋̌̔́̊̊̈́̃͝͝4̵̫͍̈́̔̒͛̈́̀̂̚̚ ̷̡̼̱̘̰̙̠̩̞̮̈́̉̇̓̍̐̓͠6̵͇̦̦̳͇̞̼̱̞͚̖̭̰̩͛̇͑͋̐̄͒̄̑̈́͂͒̚͝͠f̴̢̧̡̲͕͉̯͔̭̰̲̦̻̮̱̾̄͘ ̶̢̛̛͙͇̞̱̙͓̩̟̯̣̼͔̄̈́̅̉͋́͑͂̚͠6̵̘̲͖̙͖̯̈́́e̶̩͎͈̻̙̪̘̠̪̼͈̮̿͠ ̴̧̧͈͛̏̓̏̂͝͝͝2̷̛͚͉̥̃̌̾̈́̏͛̆͛̍̀̃̃̉̓7̴̫̝́̐̍̐͒̊́̀̈͌̚̚̚ ̸̝̪̬̼͓͉͛̚7̸̢̘̘̩͓͉̳̱͚̮̯͉͖̓̊̄̾̀͊͐̊̑̾̃̈́4̵̧̧̛͙̞͈̹̟̭̳̻͈͔̄̓̑̀̇͆̉̂́͘͠ͅ ̴̪̪̻͍̘̬̱̩̋̎̅̍͋̄̃́̄̔͊̄̾̕͝2̸͍̳̥̼̘̜̲̠̈́́͐̆͆̈́͑̌̄̓̚͘0̶̨̺͍͍̺̤̥̤̙͓̖͋̒ ̸̺̹̳̙͈̩̗͂͒̂͜7̵̨̹͔͎̖̗͓͍̬̞̻̻̖̜̋̋͗͊ͅ7̴̨̧͎̪̻̬̘̳̭́̓̓ ̶̨̢͕̝͕̻̦̖̱̠̤̟̩͎̅͗͆͘͝͝ͅ6̶̮̖̬̜͎̭̘͙̤̫̼̝̬̌̀̒̆̓̀̄̃͗̕͝ͅf̶͈̄͌̄̈́̒̇͝ ̶͈̟̖̗̮̝̟̟̺͐͐̋̅͐̅̂̓̔͑͐̽͛̈́7̶̨̢̛̫̣̩̹̹͌̀̇̀̿́̌̚2̴̡̪̣̝͇͍̯̘̲̘̽̑̊͌̀͘͝ͅͅͅ ̶̨̛̛̲̳̭͖̯̭͇̤̖̦̝̠̗̏͂͂̀̿̂̌̓͌̓̕͠7̷̥̞̼̻̫̮͔̯̮̐͊2̶̧͖̘͕̥̰̞͔͓̗͔̪̲͔̒ͅ ̵̛̲̆͑͑̂́̉̐͆̋͒̏͘7̴̦͎͕̦͙̜̹̘̻͖͇̱͗̔̋͐̿̑ͅ9̴̧̢̥̰̹̩̙̳͕̣̜̣͌̒̊́̾͋̅̇̆ͅ ̸̨͚͍͈̻̱͕͉̼̙͈̯̬͑̂̌̑͐̀̽ͅ3̵̙͉̺͎͎̩̙̺̥̗̳̘̌̍̓̆̀͜͠b̵̩̭͚̈́̓̔̓̒̍͌͗̆̄͠ ̴̢͙̲͕̲̜̖̭͖͔̩͖̻̊̑́͌͂̿2̵̧̧̡̧̛̯̘͖̫̱̰͇̻̟͙̉̈́̓̀͊̑̃̓̈́͗̿̐̚0̶̨͖̞͋͊ ̸̧̛͇͎̘͎̍͆̊̋͆͠4̴̨͍̫̳̘̋̾͑́̓̇̃̒̽̃̅̕͠͝9̸̢͇̱̫̠͓̱̘͖͖͂̉̎̋͆͜͠ ̶͈̓̓̇̌̈́̓̾2̸̨̢̛̛̹̟̦̼̻̮͚̖̟͉̳͍̯̎̍̎̀́̽̾̑̊̌̍̕7̶̛̛̦͓͔̭͉̬͙̭͎̥͆̌̂̀̔̀̈͋́͊̈́͠ ̸̨͓̙͎͎͖̯̪̥͒̌́̉̒̾͂͛̄̈́̄̀͠͝6̵̘̱̥̩̜͉̲͈̩̟͆̒̀̂͗̿̋͆̚͝ͅc̶̡̛͖͕̟̎̆̌̓̉͆͌̎͆́͒͛͝ͅ ̸̧̛̟̳̥͍͈̣͈̦̫̹̩̪͕̺̄́́̀̑̒̿̈́͒͂͘̚͠6̷̢̛̛̥̗̰͓̳̗̀̓̔̆̉͋́̏̈́̽̈́̊͛c̶̨̙̫̜̳̩͇̤̰̑̃̄̈̉͐ ̷̗̗͇͓͇̭̥͔̲̎̀̐̂̅́͊̌̊̂̑̆̕͝2̴̪̜̬̲̦͓͙̩̹͙̭̜͆͛̐͊́̎̈͛̄̆͜͝0̴̨̫̖͖̲̄̚ ̴͙̝̉̇̽̾6̶̛̳͔̤̟̏̇̓̉́͋̐͝͝͝6̴̛͙̪͒̀̉͌̎̎͝͝ ̴̠̘̀̈́̃̍̑̽̐̈̚6̴̨̢̧̝̜͉̮̙̠͍̝͐̀9̶̲͙͓̇̇̃̑̊͂̂̋̎̿͜͠ ̵̪͕͇̝̞̲̖̪͎͈͍̇̂̕͜͜7̸̣̙̣͎̆̑8̶̧͈̯͇̭͎̟͕͈̮̜͉͓̦͒͂ͅ ̴̫̱̫̫̺͕͖̰͈̮̈́͌̇͘͝͠2̵̞̯͈̰̟͕̈̅́́͒̔͘͝0̷̢̧̧̗͔̘̱͕͚̘̦̼͉͈̖̀̈́̿͘ ̷̢̛̳̺̬̙̣̘͔̊̀͌̂̋͂̏͗͘͠6̴̯͖̋͌̐9̴̤͕̯͖̗͉̐̏ ̵̮̰͉̤͒̂̑͌7̴̨̼̣̟͔͚͈̘͉̲̯͊̍͋̔̆̀̉̒4̷̛͍̼̽̇̇̋̑̑̐̿̈́͠ ̸̮̜̝̮͔̹̤̺̖̯̻͗͒̇̎̓̊̀̀̾̈́̾̓̏͋͝ͅ2̸̧̺̹̫̣̠̝͖̱͖͉́͑̽̈́̾̌̌́̀͜ͅͅe̷̡̮̘̹̣̰̲̘͑́̑͐̕ͅ ̷̧̨̜̳̻̼͕͓̭̅͒́̆͑2̸̪͙͙̭̘̥̉̾0̷̧̘̞̮͈̪͔̓́̊̅̊̇ ̴͈̰͍̊̑̒͐̄̽̒͌̒̓͂̐̓4̴̢̢̨̹̥̮̘̟̠̮́̔̑͛͌̈̔̄̈ͅ9̶̫̺̮͆̅̈͑̊̈̀̚̚͝ ̴̢̹͕͎̣̬̤̪̟͇͐̈́͂͜7̸̢̳̍͒̅̆̾4̴̙͐̉̏̏͑̋̈̃̇̇̈̋͘ ̵̣̟̔̈́̓̂̿̀̎́̓͑̕͘͠͝2̵̛̝̍͘͝ͅ0̶̧͉̟̗̝̭̫̩̮̻͖̯͍̈́͊̍͂̄̈́͆̈̔̽̈́̔͌͝͝ͅ ̵̨̧̛͔̖͖͍̦̎̒̈́̓̓7̴̺̦̤͔̰͈̬͌7̷̡͉̩̣̖͑̉́́̿̄̀̕̕͠ ̵̢͖̟͈͙̭̬̝̪̦̈́̿̆̊̈́ͅ6̵̡̨̪͖̪̹̠̗͔͔̘͙͈̭̒f̴̧̞̻͔͍̹̪͖̠̱̘͖̙̠̀͐̇͌̈́́͗̊͌͂͂ ̸̨͍̦̯̣̹͇̬̪͌̆̇̃̊͊̊̆̈͑̋̑̐̈́͘6̷͍̱̰̱̮̫͕̼̀e̷̢̖̰̾̔ ̸̧̞̺̬͈͖̬͐̐2̴̧͓̯̦͔̂̂̏̐̽̏̋̽̀̀̚7̷̨͕̘͇͙̪̻̺̓̾͘͝ ̴̢̢̡̛̛͉̻̜̾̏̀̂̚̚7̶̡̛̛̤̤̦͓̩̙̙̦̠̩̙̣͓̊̍̔̓̀̈́͜͝4̷̧̝͔͙͉̗͙͊́̾́͝͝ ̴̨̨͙̦̘̱̣͉̥̿̈́̎͋͘͜2̷̢̢̭͙̺̗̥̱̻͎̔̽̅̓̀̋̀͐̍̿̊͌͌0̷̧̢̝̲̤̺͎̼̥̲̪̻͑͌̈́ ̶̭̖̱͇͉̮̫̣͊̒̇̾̐͆̑̈́͋͋͛͠͝6̴̢̢̛̩̹̖̱̫̻͖̬̱͓̲͂̍́̿̉̓̃̄̉̏̆̃8̶̢̝͈̱͚͉͖̤̋̀̍̔̈́̒̈̎̈́̅̚̕͝͝ ̴̡̼͇̫̜̘͍̳̲̺̟̖̾̋̈̏͜͠6̴̨̛̰̭̗̱͕̤̜̫̟͈̹̒̓̈͊̑̌̈́̾̓̌̈̒̕ͅ1̸̰̻̰̀ ̷̡̻̞͈͕͔̬͕̻̱̪̾̓̍̃̐̉̌͒̀̿7̷̛͚̹͉̲̫̣̻̦̽͑̈́0̸̙͂̌͆̾̕͝ ̵̯̥͈̗̹̉̏̓̐7̸̨̞̠̜͓͈͎͍̦͎̦̯̓̆́̑̋͛̒̆͗̉̐̕ͅ0̷̛̛̜̖̲̘͙̭̝͈̫̠̹͑̉̃̓͗̈̍̕͘͠͠ ̸̧̺̹̯̦̠͓͍̠͇̖̲͗̅̆̾͊͑̐͛̈́̓̾ͅ6̸̼́̂5̵̨̡̜̭̬̺̺̮͍̫̮̟̫̝̃̐͑̉͊̔̽̾̆͑̈́̐̀̔͒͜ ̸̡̧̠̗͓̤̓͗̌̈̕6̵̭͎̖̥̩̘͍͝ͅę̸̻̬̼͇̭̈́̃̌̃͐͊͊̈́̃̽́̕ ̴̨̧̤͍̞̹̬̖̬̜̦͍͑̉͆̌̇̈̽̀̂͜2̴̡̡̧̺̠̟͕̜̻͙̹̐̑̾̍͐̎̋́̈̈́̂̚͘͝ȩ̷̨̛̛̬̜͓̲̲̰͈̳͉̏̉̏́̈͑̀́

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