#he gets and understands the stress of being a teen hero with so much responsibility

[bluerosefox]

The Drakes

It's been years since the Bats had seen Red Robin much less Tim Drake-Wayne. It started with a rather dumb argument that after years of holding back his tongue and the stress of being a TEENAGE CEO that Tim finally ripped into them.

They were too stunned by the end of his speech, him also admitting that yes he has his own problems and mistakes but at least he's trying to make amends or get over himself unlike others. It was their prolonged silence that was the final straw for him it seemed though, because Tim finally announced he was done, he was done bleeding for those that kept him on the edge of the family and that he wanted to rest, and with that Tim turned and left the Batcave for the final time.

They of course didn't take Tim's retirement announcement seriously, after all Tim was the last person other than Bruce they all believed would ever leave the life of a vigilante and a hero behind, and they all knew Bruce would keep working on the 'mission' even as a frail old man. It took them a few weeks before one of them finally decided to go see Tim and try to... talk about everything he said.

Only when they reached Tim's Nest, they discovered it was empty and he was no where to be found did they realize he was serious. It was a quick call to Wayne Enterprises to see if he was in and Tam no doubt holding back her sharp response to them that she told them that Tim had stepped down from CEO weeks ago and hasn't been heard from since. The one who went to see Tim immediately called the others, which sent many of them onto goose chase of false leads, arguments, and pointing blame.

Despite looking for their long lost Red Robin, he was good at hiding his tracks and any who might have an idea where he could be weren't talking.

So yeah it's been a while since the Bats had heard any news relating to their lost bird.

So imagine their surprise when Ra's latest attempt to upset the balance in their family again (did he want Damian to return as his heir? Take control over Gotham in the shadow? Upset Bruce? None of them honestly knew what his plan was anymore. Same old song and dance) and having captured them all that he brought up Tim to them. Or rather "shame the Detective is going to be late, but I'm sure his little family shall inform of things once he gets here."

None of them were expecting for Ra's to look away from them and with a snap of his fingers, three assassins brought forth into the room two others. One was being dragged by two assassins, black hair, pale skin, and lean swimmers build of a body. He looked roughly around the age Tim would be. He was placed on the floor right by Ra's boots, arms and legs tied up, clearly but alarmingly breathing low and slow from the raise and fall of their chest. He wore a simple T-shirt but had dark jacket that was covered in stars, NASA logos, and other galaxy themed patches all over it, his dark jeans also held some star patches but also held everyday stains from being outside in the grass and other normal day to day thing. All in all this person seems like a normal civilian individual and none of the Bats knew why Ra's had taken him.

The other assassin that had walked into the room was holding a toddler, a girl from the little pigtails on her messy head indicated. Her hair was just as dark as the passed out male by Ra's and her skin was shade healthier than him. She wore grass stained and messy paints caked overalls with a plan shirt under it and two different kinds of kids shoes (one was a green with dinosaurs and the other blue with little stars). She, unlike the young man on the floor, was awake and was looking around the room while sucking her thumb in clear distress, she also used her free hand that wasn't in her mouth to push the assassin holding onto her away from her as far as she could and was squirming her tiny legs enough to kick their sides. Thankfully the assassin didn't look too hostile or upset meaning she wasn't doing to much damage or being too annoying.

"What a lovely family the Timothy has gained for himself don't you think? I will admit Daniel put up a rather interesting fight, it was only due to us having the element of surprise that we managed to take him down and his little Eleanor has his fighting spirit it seems." Ra's said as he slowly reached over to the toddler to lightly fiddle (just to unnerve them as well) with her hair. However the moment he touched her hair, the little girl's eyes flashed from frosty blue to neon bright green and she had spat her thumb out of her mouth in order to hiss like a cat at him, her little feet kicking hard enough to cause a small 'oomph' from the one holding her.

Ra's gave an amused chuckle as he stared at the toddler in fascination before also casting his gaze down at the passed out young man, remembering the way his eyes also had flashed from blue to green and the amount of power he had saw bubble to the surface when they had ambushed the two in their home. As Ra's said before, if they hadn't had the element of surprise on their side when they went after Timothy's little family it wouldn't had worked. No doubt little Eleanor Drake was a hint of power Daniel Drake held.

Ra's turned to look at the Bats, and could clearly see the emotions on their faces which amused Ra's deeply, and couldn't help but say "Although I wasn't expecting him to marry a being with pure Lazarus blood flowing in their veins. Quite a interesting discovery that was. And that his offspring seemed to carry it also from birth. What lovely and priceless boons he has granted the League to have once he joins us."

Ra's could clearly see the questioning, fear (for the family in his clutches), confusion, and disbelief on the Bats faces and knew it would be so entertaining to watch the little.. family reunion he had set into motion.

He was so amused watching Batman the others he never noticed the light twitch on Daniel's face or the shifting breathing pattern. When he would later check to see of the large amount of tranquilizers they had given Daniel was still in-effect he was none the wiser that it had already wore off and that Danny was merely bidding his time for a opening.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #crossover #blue rambles #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #dpxdc #Tim and Danny had meet when they were 13 and 14 #they meet during Tim's training in Paris when becoming Robin and Danny had wanted some time alone to think after beating his future evilsel #Danny had flown far to clear his head and didnt notice he was in Paris until he ran into Tim and Tim tried talking French to him #they did become friends #because this is during then time Bruce wasnt... ok. Tim wasnt willing to tell him he made a ghosty friend #thus kept Danny his little secret #Danny was the person Tim talked to about everything #well almost. He didnt wanna burden his friend during the time Kon and Bart died or when Batman was thought to be dead too #Danny had felt hurt during that tbh and bit did strain their friendship for a bit but they talked about it. #Danny likes talking to Tim because he gets it #he gets and understands the stress of being a teen hero with so much responsibility #understands the worry and stress that his friends or Jazz dont get #Tim was the one that helped Danny understand that despite his parents loving him. that their work should never ever come first #Eleanor is Danielle btw #she had destabilized a few years ago #and only thanks to CW Frostbite and Tim's help they managed to save what they could of her #meaning she had to be deaged with Tim's human DNA to stabilizes her halfa genes #Tim is not going to be a happy when he storms Ra's little base btw #not at all #and neither is Danny tbh #brain dead

[bokettochild]

if i may ask, for febuwump if u don’t mind, day 15 twilight asking “who did this to you” to a whumped legend? and then protective big brother mode activate

Oh boy, I had SO many ideas for this one! Apologies for it being (checks wrist only to realize I'm not wearing a watch) late? By....time? Anyways, here's some brotherly bonding! (And copious amounts of Twilight having friends because I can!)

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 5,792

Summary: Being a big brotehr is stressful, and sometimes, Twilight just needs a break to go and be a person. When one of his brothers needs him most though, he's willing to drop everything. Although, in the end, it's not all bad.

(Warnings: References to alcohol and social drinking)

-

As a rule, Twilight loves his little brothers. 

No matter who it is or what they’ve done, or even how much they might drive him up the wall on any given day, he loves them all the same and will always be there for them. Still, he’s only a man. Sometimes, as much as he loves those who he’s found as family, he also wants to get away for a bit and be not just a big brother, but more. 

At Telma’s, he’s the hero, but he’s also the country boy who doesn’t know the city well yet. He’s the daredevil, because they've never met Wild or Warriors and they don’t know how much worse it really could be. To his friends, he’s the wild one, and for once, he’s not responsible for watching out for any of them. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he’d guess they all feel the need to keep an eye on him. Ashei definitely does, all things considered, and Auru likely does as well. Considering he’s the youngest of the group though, son to one and young enough to be the child or grandchild of two others, it makes sense. 

So, naturally, after a long day on the road with the other heroes, one where Wild has been not quite a pain in his ass but definitely a challenge, no one can blame him from wanting to get away from the champion a bit. 

“It’s not that I don’t love the kid,” he tells the others, “But Ordonia’s Horns, does he try my patience some days.” 

“What did he do?” Ashei’s dark stare flicks over him, lips twitching in what, for her, is a greatly amused smile. “Climb up a freezing mountain without proper gear and nearly get killed?” 

His tankard hits the table harder than is really necessary, and he’s definitely not pouting as he stares back at her. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” 

She just blinks at him, face unchanging. 

Twilight sighs, running his free hand over his face and shaking his head at the same time. “No. He’s a smart kid, amazing at survival an’ he’d never make that kind of mistake. Well, not now.” Brows raise, but he quickly explains. “I’m sure near the start of his adventure he had to learn somehow, but as young as he is, he’s pretty exceptional in all things survival.” 

The familiar clucking of Shad’s tongue announces the arrival of the scholar, who drops without a care into the free seat beside him, smile loose and, to anyone else, haughty. Twilight knows that smile though, knows it means mischief, and he’s not wrong. “And yet we got stuck with you, when we could have had someone so capable!” 

Maybe, in the earlier days, he would have smacked the other for those words. In the early days he certainly would have wanted to, and he would have meant it too. Now, the urge to jostle him like he does with Warriors when the other teases him is still very much there, but he resists it. Shad may be close in height to the captain, but he’s not accustomed to taking blows, and a smack from the ranch hand may or may not actually leave him still sitting in his chair.  

Instead, he settles for knocking his boot against the man’s ankles, staring at him pointedly. “Yeah, I’d love to see him launch yer skinny ass up to the sky islands. Don’t know if you’d survive the trip though.” 

“But he’s a hero, saved a princess didn’t he? You expect me to believe he doesn’t know how to handle other living people?” 

He snorts. His understanding of the younger hero is filtered through uncanny dreams that, apparently, show him things that actually happen between them in the future, in the cub’s era, but even if he doesn’t hold them as memories of his own (not quite yet) he does know how Wild treats his princess. “I once saw him push his princess down a mountain, so...” 

“What?” Auru stares at him, and Twilight is abruptly reminded that their present company is not just people his own age who the shock factor works on, but also elders who might actually experience heart failure at some of the stories he could tell about his cub. “She was standin’ on a shield an’ they were doin’ this thing called shield surfin’. Worst she got was a face fulla snow when she skidded into a bank.” Somehow that doesn’t assure the elder very much. “She was laughin’ when we got her out, and she pushed herself down the next time.” He adds, watching Auru relax at least slightly at the words. 

“Well then, it’s clear they were doing it in good fun,” Shad answers. “He doesn’t sound so bad.” 

“Are you a princess?” He teases back. “Gee, Shad, I must have missed the tiara! Where you been keepin’ it?” 

Unlike himself, Shad takes no issue with smacking him for his jesting. Unfortunately for the scholar though, he can take a hit, and at worst it just feels like a slight stinging from the impact. Shad, on the other hand, cradles his hand like it’s been broken. 

Ashei shakes her head at the man, sipping from her tankard with a sigh. “You really should know better by now.” 

“I forget!” 

“You forget he’s a wall of muscle when you’re looking right at him?” Telma teases, waltzing over with a drink for Shad and offering a warm smile to all of them. 

Twilight takes the opportunity to flip the glasses of his friend’s nose. “You need a better pair of these if you’re that blind.” 

Shad squawks, fumbling for the fallen spectacles. It takes a moment, and his flailing almost ends up with them falling in his drink, but Ashei catches them neatly and offers them back. It's only when they're on the scholar’s face again that he turns to Twilight, huffing. “Why must you do that?” 

“Because I can.” 

And this is just what he means. He’s not the elder sibling here, he’s not in charge, he’s not the reliable one. To these people, he’s the young pup who beat Ganon, the country bumpkin up from Ordon who sees the city as a wonder and a giant. He’s just Link. 

Not that he resents his brothers for needing him. No, he’s glad to have a place and to know what’s expected of him, to be able to do something for them. Still, sometimes he doesn’t want to be the level-headed, well-behaved example for the younger ones to emulate. Sometimes, he wants to be as crazy as his protege. The problem is, he can’t do that with them watching, he can’t when doing so jeopardizes the trust Time has in him to help keep the younger ones in line and out of danger from their own crazy exploits. 

Here, he can be a bit crazy. Here, he can let loose. Here, no one can see him being a wild young man in his twenties. So, he enjoys it. He laughs and he teases and he and Shad go back and forth for the next hour or so with jabs and jests that have the others all rolling their eyes or sighing at them, stares heavy but not nearly as cold as they might appear to a onlooker. 

It’s a good night all told. By the time they’re all getting up to leave, Auru’s already gone home, and Telma’s getting a start on cleaning up the bar for closing. Shad’s had a bit too much, although not enough to leave him a babbling mess, just a tired one, and Twilight and Ashei are left to shoulder the scholar and haul him back to his own home. 

“I could haul him myself.”  

“I don’t doubt it,” Ashei hums from where she has Shad’s other arm around her shoulders, “but we’d never hear the end of it if he found out you princess carried him down the street like a maiden.” 

He sniffs. “If his pride’s that sens’tive, that’s his fault.” 

Her lips twitch into a little half smile. For Ashei, that’s the equivalent of a cackle. “It’s bad enough being seen with a country boy who could crush him, being treated like a woman as well hardly helps his masculinity.” 

“Again,” he chuckles, maybe slightly tipsy himself, “ain’t my fault he’s fragile.” 

Dark eyes slide to stare at him, but his friend says nothing ore on the matter. There's not much more time to say anything either, since Shad lives relatively close to the bar anyways, so getting him home is hardly a lengthily journey. Getting into his place to drop him off is a bit of a mess, as Twilight does have to support the scholar long enough for Ashei to pat him down for his keys, but once she’s got them and unlocked the door, he does take the chance to sweep the smaller man up in his rms and carry him through the door, even as the swordswoman watches while shaking her head.  

Once Shad’s laid in his bed, shoes off and tie loosened only because Ashei is a dear and not because of any kindness on Twilight’s part, they step back out into teh street together, pulling the once more locked door closed after them. 

“He’s going to be pissed.” 

He chuckles. “He can live with it.” 

A gauntleted arm nudges against his, protected against impact unlike the scholar’s hand, and much stronger too. “You say that because you’ll be gone by morning and don’t have to deal with it.” 

“You could be too,” he reminds her, “he’d never dare follow you up into the mountains.” 

This time, the rough nudge actually makes him stumble. Maybe he is tipsy. He’s about to protest at teh rough treatment, or tease, he’s not sure exactly what it is that’s on his lips because it slips away in an instant when a soft noise, a familiar sound that is his utter weakness, sounds on the flagstones of the alley not far from him.  

Ashei must see his ears prick up, face turning towards the sound, and she already knows, because one perfect brow raises with all the grace and authority of the captain. “Cat?” 

His moving feet are his only answer. 

She sighs. “Do you have to pet every one of those things that you see?” 

“Yes.” 

Despite her protests, she trails after him, watching as he peers around the alley, crouching low to find the fluffy creature. “I don’t understand why you like them so much. Aren’t you a wolf? Shouldn’t you prefer a dog’s company?” 

“I can enjoy both!” 

Ashei sniffs. “Dogs are better.”  

He turns to her, affronted and maybe, slightly offended. “They are not!” 

“You turn into a dog,” the words are flat, “shouldn’t you take that as a compliment?” 

“I’m not a dog,” he sniffs, “I turn into a wolf, and I’m still me under the fur, so it’s different anyways. Most dogs don’t act like that.” 

“You chase your tail.” 

“I had to learn to blend in so people wouldn’t suspect anything!” 

He doesn’t deign to meet the look that’s fixed on him, but he knows precisely what it is: brows raised, chin lowered, eyes flat and simply waiting for him to cave and admit she’s right. Uli pulls the same face on Rusl when he says something dumb, and he’s seen Telma do it too. He’d say it’s a woman thing, but he’s pretty sure he’s seen Warriors do it too, and Four as well, so saying that would be a very good way to get his ass kicked. Shad might be unable to do much damage, but Warriors can and has thrown his ass across the camp, and could probably do it again. 

Instead of saying anything, he keeps his eyes open, ears flickering about to catch any further hint of where the critter in the alley is hiding he thinks it’s a cat, but it was a muffled and very brief sound to begin with, so all he knows for sure is that it’s something small with paws. Crouching low and clucking his tongue softly usually draws them out, but this time there are no such results. He’s almost about to give up and accept that the sweet little thing had maybe slipped away already when Ashei’s hand catches his shoulder suddenly, grip firm. 

“What-” 

“Look,” her other hand points down at the flagstones underfoot, “blood.” 

Playfulness and excitement bleed away to a firmness he usually only takes on in battle, and he turns his attention to the spattering on the stone rather than the slight shuffling he’d thought before, although he doesn’t dismiss the noise either. “Fresh too.” 

Dark eyes meet his own, a silent question. 

Usually, he’s against using his crystal in public spaces, but it’s late eough at night, and in a seedy enough part of town that he doubts anyone’s lingering around the area to see, and if they are, they’re no good anyways. He shifts, fur and claws taking over in a now familiar twisting and aching. It doesn;t hurt anymore, no more than like stretching an unused muscle, and it only takes a moment to settle into the wolf’s body that’s as much his by this point as the hylian one he prefers. 

“I’ll follow you.” Ashei tells him, hand drifting to her hip and the sword hanging there.  

She’s ready for trouble, and he is too as he sets his nose to the ground and tries to follow the trail that is invisible to human eyes, but clear as day to him as it winds and twists around the small space they linger in. Whatever left the trail isn’t human, he knows that quickly. The scent trail springs off of walls and rubble in the streets in ways only the most skilled of fighters could achieve, and even then, likely not when injured. It’s fresh still though, like he said, so it’s not as though it fades out quickly, and it’s only a few minutes before he finds it’s end amidst some fallen crates around the corner. 

Something from within the pile of discarded containers shuffles, the same slipping of paws against stone, and rapid little breathes that sound in time with a pitter pattering heart. 

He shifts back. Wolf form is easier to use to track things, especially when his head is slightly fuzzy from alcohol, but for small animals, it’s not always the most welcome sight. A hylian with kind hands and gentle eyes is easier to accept in his experience. 

“Here?” Ashei asks, brows raised. 

He nods. “Not human.” 

She relaxes. He doesn’t. Animal death isn’t anything she worries about; she’s a warrior, a fighter, if the animals die, then they do. People are her priority. He, on the other hand, would prefer to avoid any unnecessary death if he can help it. Maybe it’s because he knows what it’s like to be on both sides of the matter, but unless strictly necessary, he doesn’t care to be a witness to or cause of death.  

Her hand slips from her sword and she stays back as he crouches low again, carefully shifting the crates and clucking softy. “Hey there, little ‘un. You okay?” 

The air seems to go still for a moment, and somehow, he knows his voice has made the creature freeze, but a moment later, as he shifts the boxes, wary lest they suddenly shift and crush the little injured thing, it seems to settle again, and the softest little questioning ‘mrrrp?’ sounds from within. 

“It’s okay,” he soothes, voice lowering, a soft rumble that rolls gently off his tongue and through his throat. Usually, it works on most animals, unless they have bad experiences with men specifically. Here, it seems to have the preferred result, and the softest brush of paws on stone touches his ears as he moves another crate. 

As the wood lifts away, he nearly drops it again at the sight that lies before him. 

“What’s wrong?” Ashei’s hand is moving to her sword again, likely as a result of the tension that’s jumped back into his shoulders, the way his ears have flicked back to press against his skull in horror. 

He doesn't answer her. Instead he’s all but throwing the crate away and reaching into the space between splintered wood. The motions are maybe too sudden, he reminds himself belatedly, for handling an injured creature, and the flinch away from his touch drives the point home. His heart wrenches somewhat at the way long ears press back and little paws stutter against stone, violet eyes squeezing shut in a wince. 

Two thoughts flicker in his head. How is Legend a rabbit, and what is he doing looking bleeding out in an alleyway as a rabbit? 

“Shhhh,” he tries to soothe, “it’s jist me, jist me, okay?” His eyes flicker over bloody pink fur to dark eyes that stare up at him, shining with a fear he’s never seen from the other before as a fluffy little chest rises and falls with breathes that would be dangerously fast for a hylian, but even for a small rodent are concerning. 

There’s a lot of blood, and he means a lot. 

“Who did this to you?” He can’t help the soft sigh in teh words, the almost coo. Small animals are most definitely his weakness, and small injured animals, even if they’re actually grouchy teenage boys, are definitely worse. His brother just looks so breakable and delicate, and the crimson matting fur together and staining the stone is just making his heart clench up even more as he reaches out. 

From behind, Ashei’s feet pad softly over, wary, but knowing her, she’d know he wouldn’t address anything threatening in that sort of voice. Still, she does recoil slightly, shock briefly flashing across her face as he manages to get a hold on his brother’s changed form, carefully lifting Legend up into his arms. “Is that a pink rabbit?” Her voice catches slightly, which is frankly impressive; she’s usually never so expressive. 

He nods, and while last time Legend had protested loudly at being picked up and handled like an actual rabbit, this time the animal form of his brotehr nestles down into his arms with a soft shudder, head resting on the crook of his arm even as wary eyes lift to stare at the swordswoman who’s likewise fixed on him.  

“What in Hylia’s-” 

“He’s hurt bad.” 

“It’s a rabbit in Castletown, are you shocked?” Reason seems to be slipping over to cover shock as she turns her eyes, flat once more, up to stare at him instead of the critter in his arms. “There’s dozens of dogs in this neighborhood, and while most have probably ever seen a rabbit before, they’re still hunters by nature.” 

The words twist in his gut. Not because he hadn’t realized; he’s changes into a wolf, he knows what sorts of urges come with the canine form, and while he might laugh it off, there’s still a part of him that, when in that form, lunges at the chance to chase small things, to get his teeth into them and shake them. He’s more man than beast of course, so he doesn’t really give into it unless he’s starving for food and a hunt is truly needed, but even then, there’s still part of him that recoils at his own actions. He’s been the one hunted before though, chased and tracked and lunged for by those who’d rather use his pelt to warm their families then let him so much as walk past them in the street. 

Still, as a wolf, he’s got teeth and claws to fight back, if he wanted to. The creature in his arms, his brother, doesn’t have that option. Legend's teeth and claws can barely draw blood, and by the time he’d gotten close enough to even try, a dog’s teeth would already be snapping around him before he could do anything. 

His arms tighten around the shivering form in his arms. In the back of his head, he can almost hear Uli, back when he was a kid still new to Ordon, still new to trees and animals and anything that wasn’t sand and swords. He shouldn't scare little things, ever, she’d told him. She’d been holding a rabbit in her arms, one she’d somehow managed to catch while they were out having a picnic in the fields with him. He’d been in wonder of the glossy fur and tiny paws, but moving too fast, too harsh, and it was hiding it’s head in her arms to avoid him. ‘They’re not made to handle scary things,” she’d murmured to himself and an equally awed Colin, who was only three at the time. ‘their little hearts might explode if you scare them too much.’ 

It’s slightly an irrational fear, considering Legend isn’t actually a rabbit, just transformed into one, but the words still ring in his head as he cradles the broken little body in his hold. 

Ashei’s stare is blank as it turns back to his little charge, lips twitching downwards briefly. “You’d be better off putting it out of its misery, Link. It can’t survive here, and you can’t take it with you.” 

The very idea makes his stomach, heart skipping up into his throat as he recoils from his friend, body shifting by instinct alone to shield his little brother from her cold stare and colder words. “No!” 

“Link...” 

“He’s not just a rabbit!” 

“How much were you drinking?” 

The implication hurts a bit. He can hold his alcohol better than that, and he hadn’t had very much at all. He knows better! He knows Sky would have words for him if he came back drunk, especially after the trouble they’ve been having with keeping certain heroes sober. “No, I’m serious! He's....” the words slip outr of his head for a moment as he turns his gaze down to dark eyes that are squeezed closed in pain. “He’s...” 

“I’m not a rabbit.” 

He’s never seen Ashei’s eyes widen that much in his life, nor her move so quickly, sword half drawn and feet scrabbling back in shock at the fact that rabbit in his arms just spoke. 

“He’s like me,” he tries, soothing one hand down blood matted fur, and realizing at the same time that he should probably do something about the damage done to the vet.  

“A shifter?” 

“A hero,” he corrects, attention now on finding the source of the blood. “And yes, he transforms when exposed to dark magic.” 

“Can he turn back on his own?” She moves closer, apparently assured by his words, even though her eyes are still fixed on the pink rabbit that can talk, likely wondering how much more insane her night is going to get. 

Twilight shakes his head. “Not without a source of light magic.” 

“But you-” 

“I have control over the crystal, and practice. He’s...different.” 

There, he’s found it, the source of the blood. His heart twists up more, somehow, when he identifies the familiar marks left by sharp teeth. It could be his own work if it was a size or two bigger, and that particular thought has his stomach lurching yet again. There’s more bites than one too, and one paw seems to have been crushed, hanging oddly and when he jostles it there’s a bitten off cry of pain from his brother’s altered form. 

“He doesn’t look good.” Ashei states grimly, ow crouched at his side and staring intently at the injuries and violet eyes that squeeze closed as rapid little breathes shake the tiny body in his hold. 

She’s right. “Is there some sorta animal doc ‘round here?” 

Raised brows. “We aren’t a country town, Link.” 

“But even city folk have horses and shit, right?” 

Ashei frowns, gaze slipping free of his own. “Horses, yes, but smaller creatures-” 

“What about Agitha?” 

A flat look. “She’s a child, and her interest is insects.” 

“Small beings that she believes are magic,” he corrects, already shifting to his feet, cradling the fluffy form in his arms with all the care he’d use with Uli’s littlest. Legend doesn’t protest the movements either, although that might just be because he’s in too much pain to do so. “A talking pink rabbit is going to make her night.” 

Following his lead, the swordswoman stands, dusting herself off with a little sigh. “It’s worth a shot, I suppose.” 

The path to the self-proclaimed princess’s house is a short one, which is the main cause of his choice to see her, that and, like he said, her love of small magical beings. A rabbit and a butterfly are very, very different, but he’s counting on the quirky nature of the girl to overrule that logic like it does with most things. Sure, putting his hopes on a twelve-year-old with questionable logic isn’t maybe the best choice he’s made in his life, but considering he took the advice of a warrior killed in battle on how to beat Gannon, no one can exactly argue that his logic is sound either. 

If anything, Agitha is awake, and when Ashei knocks at the door, it swings open quickly, revealing swinging pigtails and a bright smile that’s just slightly off-putting. “Ah, brave knight! You’ve returned!” 

The look Ashei levels him with could probably kill a lesser man. 

The bug princess swings the door open wide, smile even wider as she cocks her head on one side. “Welcome! The Princess of Bigs is happy to let you enter her kingdom!” 

“Thank you,” he bows his head slightly. The best course of action here is to play along. He’s not sure why Agitha is like this, but going along with her game doesn't hurt anyone, even if it used to drive Midna crazy. Still, she’s a kid, and he’s used to kids, good with them too. “I come seeking the princess’s help.” 

“A knight needing help from a princess? How queer!” She giggles into her hand, but then stops. It’s like her whole person stalls for a moment, eyes falling on the bundle of pink in his arms. “Oh my, what’s this you’ve brought here?” 

He exchanges a look with Ashei, and in return, she just stares. 

“This is an enchanted warrior,” he tells the girl, “he’s been cursed into this form, and injured badly. We thought, since you are princess of the creatures of the small kingdoms, that maybe you might be able to aid him, even if he isn’t one of your subjects.” 

He can feel the groan building up from his companion, but she doesn’t release it, thankfully. Agitha probably wouldn’t notice if she had though, gliding forwards slowly with features pinched up into an honestly adorable pout. “Oh, the poor, poor little warrior!” She coos. “Yes, I am not princess of the mammal world, but I do not have a heart of stone. Here,” her arms are thrust out, open and waiting, “allow the Princess to help him!” 

He’s more hesitant than he’d like when handing over the vet’s beaten form, but Agitha handles him with surprising care, shushing and cooing as she strokes back long ears, whisking around to head off deeper into the room. Twilight trails after, leaving Ashei at the door, as the woman does not appear to be at all interested in plunging further into the insect castle. He’s cautious with where he puts his feet and keeps his distance, also wary of his surroundings. Meanwhile, Agitha lays the vet’s rabbit form on a tabletop and, with quick kiss to the brow that would be very ill advised considering the blood there, she darts off to grab something from one of the many nooks and crannies about the room. 

It’s honestly impressive, considering her age and the general doubts he has for her sanity, how efficient the insect princess handles the injuries presented to her. She shows little worry for the blood that gets on her dress and many accessories, humming softly to herself as she set bones with ease that’s almost scary and binds up wounds with care that he’d almost mistake for the skill of an actual healer. Once she’s done though, she’s scooping up Legend’s little body and settling him back in Twilight’s arms, a smile on her face as she winks up at him, one finger pressed to her cheek with a coy little smile 

 “Lucky for you, Mister Captain Hero taught me a thing or two on treating wounds! He’s all fixed now! Make sure to let him rest and give him lots too eat, okay? And lots of pets!” She claps her now blood stained hands, smile still shining. “He’s such a darling thing! He deserves all the pets in the world! Oh, I wish you could pet bugs, but there’s so little of them to pet, and butterflies die if you pet them...” 

His smile is stilted, but he manages to bob his head in thanks all the same. “Thank you, princess.” 

“Of course, brave knight,” he’s answered with a charming smile and a little curtsy, one that leaves bloody fingerprints on pink skirts. “If ever you find another such wounded warrior of the magical world, do bring them here. Princess Agitha will take care of them!” 

Ashei hurries them out the door before ‘Princess Agitha’ can say much more than that. Honestly, he’s thankful. She’s not a bd kid, but she’s kind of off-putting if he’s being honest. Legend’s face buried in his arms indicates that he too finds the girl somewhat off-putting, even if he hadn’t spoken at all since they alley. 

“That child is insane.” Ashei pronounces once they’re safely away again. 

It’s strained, but he finds himself laughing slightly, hand dragging over long ears as he walks and resisting, strongly, the urge to rub his face into long fur. “Yeah, prob’bly.” 

A side glance is fixed on him, feet not stopping on the well known path back past the bar. “Will you be going back to your inn now?” 

He nods, glancing down to find Legend is staring up at him as well, gaze hazy from either pain or exhaustion, he’s not sure. “Yeah. It’s pretty late, an’ i still need to get him changed back before the others realize he’s missin’.” And then, as an after thought, he adds, “I know the way back.” 

“You had a bit to drink.” 

“Ashei,” he laughs, strained, “no one’s gonna try anything on swordsman wearing wolf’s pelt, not if they have an ounce of sense! ‘Sides, it’s not far off.” 

Her stare is heavy. 

“I’m fine. If anythin’ as the man here, I ought to be offerin’ to walk you home!” 

Weight is nothing in comparison to the sharpness in those eyes. “Watch it, Ordon.” 

“Yes, miss.” 

She shakes her head, dark hair somehow not so much as swishing with the motion. “Have a good night.” And then she’s heading off, not even bothering to wait around for his echo of her farewell and instead disappearing around a corner up ahead, pace faster than his own as he tries to keep steady and not jostle the brother in his hold. With her gone though, it’s just Legend and himself, violet eyes truned up to stare blearily up at him. 

“We are gonn talk about this later,” he warns, even as he sets off towards the inn again. 

Legend shifts, ears flicking slightly in answer, but he doesn’t talk. If anything, the rabbit in his arms curls in tighter, defensive.  

“I’m not mad,” he’s quick to assure, foddling long ears gently, “but you scared me there, vet.” 

Still no answer. He resigns himself to silence as his feet carry the two of them down the mostly quiet streets of Castletown and back to the inn, one hand still running through silky fur, careful not to catch on where it’s still matted with blood.  

“Here’s hoping Sky doesn’t have our heads for wakin’ him.” He sighs as they come to the door, and he has to stop his petting of pink fur to push it open. “Hopefully the rest are also asleep, cuz I ain’t got an answer for any of this.” 

The rabbit in his arms snorts, but th head that’s been lolling into the crook of his arm raises to butt against him gently. It startles him. 

So many years ago, Uli said that was how rabbits indicate affection, or ask for more pets. Good grief, how out of it is Legend: Mister-Don't-Touch-Me-I-Will-Bite-You? There’s no way to know though, but he doesn't look a gift bunny in the mouth, and he’s only too happy to continue his petting as he takes the stairs up to their room, nodding briefly to the wide eyed inn-keeper as he goes. 

Tomorrow, he will have to ask Legend what happened. Tomorrow, he will have to adopt being a good, responsile big brotehr who gets to the bottom of things, but for tonight, he’s simply content to try and turn his brother back to a hylian, get a potion down his throat, and head to bed, leaving the adult stuff to future Twilight. That’s easy enough too. Sky has questions, but is too tired to slur through them, and while feeding the vet a potion is hard with the other slumping against him so heavily, but they manage. They manage and then he’s slumping himself back into the bed left open for him. He sort of expects Legend to slip away after, but belatedly, he realizes that’s just impossible. Maybe it was the petting, since he’s been there and he gets how much it turns his muscles into jelly, but pink hair hits his chest the moment his back has settled into the mattress, and the hand that catches in the front of his tunic further cements that Legend isn’t going anywhere. 

Ah well, if Legend’s going to take up space in his bed, he reserves the right to keep running his hands through fluffy pink. If Legend doesn’t tell him to stop, he won’t. The vet doesn’t eitehr, just hums softly, curling in on himself and nestling into his side with a soft sigh that would almost, almost fool him into thinking his brother was still in his beast form. 

Tomorrow will be interesting. Explaining the blood on their clothes, where they’d been, and all else won’t be fun. But for tonight they can have a little more peace. The scare is over, and Twilight’s free for just a little bit more. And hey, the brief panic was worth it, especially considering he’s getting cuddles out of the deal! 

#asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump #ketto writes #lu twilight #lu legend #ashei tp #shad tp #telma tp #auru tp #twilight princess resistance

[princeescaluswords]

Random thought but so much of the "Deaton is cryptic" claims is not only rooted in antiblackness/racism towards Deaton, and Marin, themselves but the whole tradition of teaching and storytelling in colonized cultures because MANY of them including African diaspora traditions won't just give the listener the information all of the time because it encourages them to think and analyze for themselves.

Peter can hoard secrets and knowledge and stans deem it a wise, clever move but Deaton or Marin give information without forcing the heroes to do anything in particular and they're seen as untrustworthy 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

I think your diagnosis is entirely correct. Even certain European cultures, from which parts of the Untied States culture are descended, embraced the concept that access to certain information had to be earned as well as kept out of the hands of those not ready to understand it or those who would abuse it, in the form of mysteries or apprenticeships or even licensing.

Yet, Teen Wolf actually spent quite a bit of time grappling with how much their characters should know, when they should know it, and what that meant for them. For example, Chris Argent proposed that "what you know makes you responsible" while the McCall pack operated under the stress of the maxim "it's always better when they know."

It might seem to someone looking to make a black man an antagonist that Deaton's reticence to share information indicates a sinister purpose. I would propose that the show itself placed Deaton's early-season reluctance to tell Scott and his pack everything he knew as coming from the same place that Chris and Victoria's decision to hide the Argent family business from Allison did: protection. Deaton comes out and says to Marin that the reason he didn't tell Scott and Stiles about the alpha pack is because "they had enough on their plate." He didn't tell them about the druidic origins of the sacrifices because the police were handling it. Deaton saw Scott and his pack as children, not soldiers, and if he told them everything, then they wouldn't be able to avoid the horrors and dangers which would come as a consequence. Given his own past watching a woman he loved destroyed in a war, that's only understandable.

The parts of the fandom that accuse him of ulterior and sinister motives beyond the ones we saw on the screen can't actually define what those motives were. Once Stiles convinced him in Unleashed (3x04) that they were going to get involved no matter what and that his desire to protect them and avoid his own past trauma was hurtful, he immediately shared what he knew. And no, saying "I'm not sure about this" is not actually withholding information.

I find that most of the racist fandom, when they charge Deaton with being 'useless' or 'cryptic' are projecting wish fulfillment into their interpretation of the narrative. They believe that Scott might have fallen in line behind the Hales if Deaton told him that it was a beta's duty to serve their alpha no matter how that alpha behaves (which is demonstrably false) or that the Hales had a right to run Beacon Hills (which isn't true at all). They believe that Stiles was denied his rightful place as lead protagonist because Deaton didn't automatically offer to make a boy who told him "could you find something for me a little less stressful" his apprentice. They twist the fact that Deaton told Scott about his potential to become a True Alpha into a scheme, ignoring the fact that Deaton didn't say a single thing about it until he literally watched Scott's eyes turn red.

But if a racist fandom is determined to hate a character because he didn't fall into the Magic Negro trope, it's enough to condemn him, even though they can't point out one single benefit he derived from these actions.

And it is racist, because there is a character who pointedly and repeatedly used what he knew to manipulate others and gain advantage for himself while posing as an erstwhile ally: Peter Hale. Whether he's using what he knows against Derek to weasel his way back into the pack in Battlefield (2x11) or convincing Derek to give up the alpha spark in Alpha Pact (3x11) to prevent him from interfering with his long term plans to kill Scott, or he's manipulating his knowledge of Lydia's powers to get the information Talia hid from him in Letharia Vulpina (3x19) or risking Stiles life by withholding knowledge on how to help him in De-Void (3x22), or concealing what he knows about the Desert Wolf to get Malia to kill Kate for him while teaching Kate how to control the shift to get her to set Scott up for a ritual murder in the entirety of Season 4, he uses what he knows as a weapon to conquer what he thinks is due him. He stands out among the characters who use sharing what they know to their advantage (Gerard, Theo, Jennifer, Valack), for his ability to make information serve his purposes, because we literally watch the entire process take place on the screen.

Yet to parts of the fandom the most sinister manipulator of lore and wisdom in Beacon Hill is, apparently and without a doubt, Alan Deaton. They're sure of it, because they have their reasons.

BUT IT'S NOT RACISM.

#alan deaton #alan deaton defense squad #anti peter hale #teen wolf fandom racism #fandom racism #scott mccall

[worldbuilder-brainrot]

(E)GG AU: Fu’s Story

[Part 1: Fu’s backstory]

One day, Wayzz sensed the Peacock cracking. He couldn’t tell exactly where it was (a precaution to protect against bad Guardians), just that it was in Paris. Fu transformed, intending to handle it himself, but quickly realized he was too old to wield the Miraculous.

(As kids lack maturity and the elderly have lived long enough to reach insanity, the Miraculous are designed so that holders outside of their “prime” can only use a power once per recharge (without the use of spells). Due to the effects of aging, elderly holders typically also experience loss of agility.)

Knowing he’d have to trust another holder again, he traveled to Paris to start seeking out new heroes.

(His experiences during The Great War influenced him to only release the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous, be adamant about not revealing their identities to anyone, and (partly influenced by his upbringing in the GO) seek out teen heroes: old enough to handle the power (though limited if he needed to relinquish it), but also too young to easily pack up and go (unlike the couple of adults who’d tried that). (Furthermore, though he had an understanding of modern revelations about youth, thus also being against teen marriage, it was still through an ancient lens. So, though he was aware of how stressful and demanding heroism and a double life would be, if they proved to be “mature”, he viewed placing the responsibility and high expectations on teens just the same as he would with a young adult.))

By the time the Butterfly was activated with nefarious intentions, he was prepared to give his top picks a final test just to double-check. (He’d admit he was more than a bit biased in picking Adrien, but how could he deny someone who only wished for freedom? Besides, as the boy was beloved by all, it would spare Plagg from having to once again deal with his power being used to tear down all his holder’s enemies. (Even still, the (subconscious) influence of The Great War made him hesitant to reveal his existence to the Cat holder (and the Ladybug holder by extension).))

Marinette and Adrien did even better than he expected, despite the first-time hiccup. He surely thought Marinette would quit after forgetting to purify the akuma, but she got back out there (which is far more than he could expect from himself) and exceeded all his expectations. He felt terrible for just throwing them into the fire, but he couldn’t risk connecting them to him. It wasn’t like he would be a good guide anyway, especially not above ancient beings.

But fate had other plans (yes, eventually meeting Adrien, but that would be later): Marinette brought the Grimoire to him, and gave him hope. Perhaps false, but hope nonetheless. The Grimoire had been left back at the temple, and if it survived, maybe some of the Guardians survived too. Much better suited for passing on the legacy than he was. Even still, Marinette certainly had the kwamis’ favor and the skill for it, maybe it was time to pass his knowledge on before time caught up with him. Passing on the Turtle (however temporary) must’ve been his first hint.

(He refers to his box as the “Tibetan Miracle Box” because it’s the last box from the Tibetan temple. With all the cross-culture influences, box trading, and even some Miraculous swaps between boxes, most of the boxes only represented awkward mash-ups of cultures.)

Getting sick was a stark reminder of his mortality. He wasn’t all that sick, he knew he wasn’t. He would recover just fine, probably in a few days and the medicine would quell his symptoms in the meantime. But… thinking about if he was that sick, the possibility of him later becoming that sick… It left him in the kind of mental anguish that hurt him physically. He was glad the doctor brushed it off as him being dramatic– he was! And neither she nor Marinette deserved to put up with his problems. But… still… He wanted to see Marianne again. He wanted to be with her again. And he completely understood if she didn’t want to after he left her behind for so long, but she deserved closure for why; that she did nothing wrong. And his anxiety pressured him to tell her now, so he asked Marinette to pass on his letter to her.

Marianne knew Fu’s letter was off. She knew reading to the end would clear everything up. It was just… all the talk of being “too late”… it sounded like the words of someone… No. No! It had to be something more bearable! It had to be… He didn’t love her anymore! Yes! Something she could get over. After all, they hadn’t seen each other in years. It would be pretty messed up that he sent Ladybug to deliver his message instead of coming in person to say so, but that’s a much better option than he physically couldn’t. Because he could! He’s fine! He’s alive! He’s not…! He’s not… He just doesn’t love her anymore because they haven’t seen each other in so long…

“Backwarder… You want to go back and make up for lost time.”

Oh, how she did. Maybe… Maybe they would’ve had more time before… before… Just become akumatized and you won’t have to think about it.

…

Why did she act so rashly? Now she and Fu were going to lose even more time together because she couldn’t just read to the end… That’s okay. He’s okay. That’s what’s important to her. She missed Fu, but if Ladybug was with him, that means he’s not alone. And she has Mr. Ramier, so she isn’t either. They’re okay.

It hurt Fu to lose Marianne again, but he should’ve known he was asking too much. He was supposed to be focused on helping Marinette become a Guardian, not his late-life romance. Though it was nice to know Marianne was okay.

[In this version of the Butterfly, Hawkmoth’s empathy is so bad, he constantly misreads feelings/doesn’t bother to look deeper into buried feelings (often just makes stuff up when he can’t tell at all). (There are many akuma I apply this idea to, but that’s a discussion for another post.)]

When he heard of the new exhibit from Tibet, he was curious about what was dug up in his first home, and decided to tune in to the news broadcast. He never knew whether or not that had been a good thing.

He couldn’t leave her to fix his mistakes again. Not this one. He knew Marinette. He knew she would do everything she could to stop it. But she couldn’t. And she would die trying. After Adrien sacrificed himself first. No. He would handle this himself. He’d take their Miraculous to keep them out of danger and lead that beast away from everyone. He’d lead it all the way back to Tibet and drown with it in a volcano if he had to. He would not– could not– let it destroy innocent people all over again. Perhaps Hawkmoth and Mayura would leave Paris to avoid getting their Miraculous eaten, or simply because he took the Ladybug and Cat with him. Maybe he could take them down with that beast. If he couldn’t, maybe the other heroes Marinette and Adrien met could. He just had to get that beast away from Paris. Away from Marinette and Adrien and Marianne. He had to.

…

He really shouldn’t have underestimated Marinette. She was an incredible Ladybug, and once again, she proved she’d earned her spot among the legendary heroes. He hoped he wasn’t too insulting in his doubt. The restoration of the temple, the Guardians, Su-Han, the news brought him to tears. But he knew he had to remain in Paris. Hawkmoth and Mayura were his responsibility. Besides, he was surely exiled now that Su-Han was back to explain what Fu had done. Someone would certainly come for the box, and he would give it up, but he would still stay to deal with the consequences of the attacking akumatized victims and sentimonsters.

(He even got his magic compass, and other assorted treats, back from the staff. His staff which was now at the Louvre. He allowed Ladybug to give it to them, as it was beautiful and well-designed and a piece of his history that should be shared with the world. Though he had mixed feelings about giving it to the same people who literally dug up his trauma.)

He never wanted to make Marinette the Guardian like this. If she didn’t need the magic he was passing onto her, he wouldn’t have put the burden on her at all. She didn’t need the stress. She was going through so much already. But someone would come for the box, and they could help her. He just hoped she’d be okay in the meantime.

…

It was strange not having memory. He didn’t even have enough to miss it. A courtesy of fate, he supposed. He felt bad not recognizing the people who apparently knew him, but they were so kind, he could hardly be upset by the idea of getting to know them again. Especially Marianne. He didn’t know why, but he felt so safe with her, like he could tell her anything. Maybe he used to.

Marianne thought she would’ve been more upset seeing Fu without his memories, but he looked so… relaxed. It was the first time she saw him without the weight of the world in his eyes. It was in an admittedly tragic way, but he was at peace. And she found herself just happy to be with him again. That they could be in peace.

Fu was different, of course. Sort of in the way that she felt like she was making a new friend (which she believed was only fair, as Fu was experiencing the same but to an even higher degree). Yet, he wasn’t as much of a “blank slate” as she had initially worried, and still retained many of his old habits and sense of morals. Just more relaxed, and less nervous. She supposed that made sense; the memories weren’t gone, even if he couldn’t access them. It would take some getting used to, he really wasn’t her old friend anymore, but she had no complaints, she liked her new friend too.

[Continued (kind of) in the AU’s version of “Furious Fu”.]

#miraculous #episode: origins #episode: syren #episode: volpina #episode: anansi #episode: backwarder #episode: feast #movie: New York #episode: miracle queen #my fanfics #(E)GG AU

[redrobin-detective]

I know this is influenced by the Shazam movie (my beloved) but it still makes me sigh when I see posts about “oh Billy/Captain Marvel uses a lot of teen slang/ understands TikTok, memes and other child centric things adults don’t get.” Because while that’s fine, it’s the exact opposite of what I find so interesting about Billy.

We all flail about how Bill is a young child with immense power and responsibility but he doesn’t really act like a child. He was orphaned at an early age and cruelly abandoned by the man supposed to care for him. Bounced from dingy orphanages to abusive foster cares, seeing some of the worst of humanity and made to feel so unloved, he decides to make his own way on the streets. Despite all this loss and grief, Billy inexplicably remains good and kind. This is why he is worthy of being Captain Marvel, because beneath all his hurt and sass, he cares so damn much about the people around him.

So Bill becomes force for good and eventually joins the Justice League and they just, don’t know what to make of him. Because Bill is strange mix of child & adult, human & godlike being but even as himself, Billy is NOT a normal child. He’s worried about housing and food security, he’s thinking about the upcoming Midwest winter and his threadbare coat, he’s stressing about being a good influence as Marvel, about not screwing up on missions, about the latest supervillain threat to world. These are all very adult concerns that Billy, with his child body and underdeveloped brain are forced to deal with. 

So the League quietly tilts it’s head at Captain Marvel because he is a conundrum. He has such intimate insight into human suffering and has a wealth of compassion that leaves them breathless. But he has odd ticks, such strange, out of context smatterings of human culture (because Bill has been on the outside for so long and so out of touch with human people). It’s why they can never get a good read on Cap, because he doesn’t fit into any neat categories simply because Billy exists so far outside the norm. When the secret does come out, the largest clashes will not be over petty generational dispute but Billy’s lack of support, his unaddressed trauma, and the realization that this kid grew up way too fast and isn’t much of a child anymore and, after so long, resents being coddled. 

That is what makes Billy Batson such a fascinating, compelling character to me. Not simply that he’s a child, DC has hundreds of child heroes, but because Billy is an adult in a child’s body long before he ever becomes a child in an adult’s body.

#I try not to be bitter about it bc its a valid and fun interpretation of Billy #but god seeing posts where Billy explains Tiktok or w/e drive me insane #(I guess it strikes different after Shazam 2019 where he actually has a home and is surrounded by kids) #but whole *flails* adult/child dichotomy playing out both physically and mentally #like yes Bill can become a magical adult with magic and stable brain chemistry #but even as himself he's dealing with adult problems and managing himself #he maintains his childlike optimism the desperate faith in concepts like family and care and just general lack of knowledge #(not saying Bill is stupid but he has Wild gaps in knowledge like he knows intricate alien tech but struggles with fractions) #(simply bc he hasnt attended school in years and is missing out on actual instructions but has so much real world/JLA knowledge) #and you know we curse the wizard out for his minstrations #but i firmly believe Billy would have died without outside forces acting (he's too kind and kindness can kill) #but by bringing Cap (and Bill) to the JLAs attention he can now get care and support even if he doesnt want it #eventually Bill and the League will settle into a strange sort of arrangement of letting him be independent but still giving him help #Also once more will die on the hill of Billy existing around the time of Jay Robin #for many reason but one is Caps behavior reminds Bruce of something and it nags at him #only to find out the secret and realize oh OH Cap was showing the same signs of a homeless abused child that Jay had

[spockandawe]

Well, this is interesting! So, in that post yesterday, there was one line that really baffled me, a thing about people brushing off a character as an asshole “because he shows literally zero growth.” I kind of set that aside because it was such a weird non-sequitur, and guessed that it was just someone’s sentences not quite keeping up with their train of thought, which has happened to me many times. Apparently I was wrong! I already spent long enough on that one post, I’m tired of talking about that, but this is new and interesting. 

Okay. I kind of wanted to see if I could talk about this purely in terms of abstracts and not characters, but I don’t think it’ll work. It would be frustrating to write and confusing to read. It’s about Jiang Cheng. Right up front: This isn’t about whether or not he’s an abuser. Frankly, I don’t think it’s relevant. This also isn’t about telling people they should like him. I don't care whether anyone else likes him or not. But I do like him, and I am always fascinated by dissecting the reasons that people disagree with me. And the process of Telling Stories is my oldest hyperfixation I remember, which will become relevant in a minute.

I thought I had a good grasp on this one, you know? Jiang Cheng makes it pretty obvious why people would dislike Jiang Cheng. But then the posts I keep stumbling over were making weird points, culminating in that “literally zero growth” line.

So! What happened is that someone wrote up a post about how Jiang Cheng’s character arc isn’t an arc, it’s stagnation. It’s a pretty interesting read, and I broadly agree with the larger point! The points where I would quibble are like... the idea that it’s absolute stagnation, as opposed to very subtle shifts that still make a material difference. But still, cool! The post was also offered up as a reason why OP was uninterested in writing any more Jiang Cheng meta, which I totally get. I’m not tired of him yet, but I definitely understand why someone who isn’t a fan of his would get tired about writing about a character with a very static arc. Okay!

Now, internet forensics are hard. I desperately wish I had more information about this evolution, because I find this stuff fascinating, but I have no good way to find things said in untagged posts, reblogs, or private/external venues. But as far as I can tell, that “literally zero growth” wasn’t just a slip of the tongue, it’s become fashionable for people to say that Jiang Cheng is an abusive asshole (that it’s fucked up to like) because he doesn’t have a character arc.

Asshole? Yes. Abusive? This post still isn’t about that. This is about it being fucked up to like this character because he did bad things and had a static character arc.

At first, that point of view was still deeply confusing to me. But I think I figured out the idea at the core of it, and now I’m only baffled. I’m not super interested in confirming this directly, because the people making the most noise about this have not inspired confidence in their ability to hold a civil conversation and I’m a socially anxious binch, but I think the idea is: ‘This character did Bad Things, and then did not improve himself.’

Which is alarmingly adjacent to that old favorite standard of ‘This piece of fiction is glorifying Bad Thing.’ I haven’t seen anyone accusing mxtx of something something jiang cheng, only the people who read/watched/heard the story and became invested in the Jiang Cheng character, but things kind of add up, you know?

Like I said, I don’t want to arbitrate anyone’s right to like/dislike Jiang Cheng. That’s such a fucking waste of time. But this is fascinating to me, because it’s like..... so obviously new and sudden, with such a clear originating point. I can’t speak to the Chinese fans, obviously, but exiledrebels started translating in... what, 2017? And only now, in 2021, do people start putting forth Jiang Cheng’s flat character arc as a “reason” that he’s bad? I’m not going to argue if he pings you in the abuse place, I’m not a dick. I’m not going to argue if you just dislike his vibes. I’m just over here on my blog and in the tag enjoying myself, feel free to detour around me. But oh my god, it’s so silly to try to tell other people that they shouldn’t like him because he has a static character arc.

I want to talk about stories. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to say, because it’s impossible to make broad, sweeping statements, because there are stories about change, there are stories about lack of change, there are all kinds of media that can be used to tell stories, and standards for how stories are told and what they emphasize vary across cultures and over time. But I think that what I can say is that telling a story requires... compromise. It requires streamlining. Trying to capture all the detail of life would slow down most stories to an unbearable degree. Consider organically telling someone ‘I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich’ versus the computer science exercise of having students describe, step by step, how to make one (spread peanut butter? but you never said you opened the lid)

Hell, I’ve got an example in mdzs itself. The largely-faceless masses of the common people. If someone asks you to think about it critically like, yes, obviously these are people, living their own lives, with their own desires, sometimes suffering and dying in the wake of the novel plot. But does the story give weight to those deaths? Or does it just gloss by? Yes, it references their suffering occasionally, but it is not the focus, and it would slow the story unbearably to give equal weight to each dead person mentioned. 

Does Wei Wuxian’s massacre get given the same slow, careful consideration as Su She’s, or Jin Guangyao’s? No, because taking the time to weigh our protagonist with ‘well, this one was a mother, and her youngest son had just started walking, but now he’s going to grow up without remembering her face. that one only became an adult a few months ago, he still hasn’t been on many night-hunts yet, but he finds it so rewarding to protect the common people. oh, and this one had just gotten engaged, but don’t worry, his fiancee won’t mourn him, because she died here as well.’ And continuing on that way to some large number under 3000? No! Unless your goal is to make the reader feel bad for cheering for a morally grey hero, that would be a bad authorial decision! The book doesn’t ignore the issue, it comes up, Wei Wuxian gets called out about all the deaths he’s responsible for, but that’s not the same as them being given equal emotional weight to one (1) secondary character, and I don’t love this new thing where people are pretending that’s equivalent.

When Wei Wuxian brutally kills every person at the Wen supervisory office, are you like ‘holy shit... so many grieving families D:’ or are you somewhere between vindicated satisfaction and an ‘ooh, yikes’ wince? Odds are good you’re somewhere in the satisfaction/wince camp, because that’s what the story sets you up to feel, because the story has to emphasize its priorities (priorities vary, but ‘plot’ and ‘protagonist’ are common ones, especially for a casual novel read like this)

Now, characters. If you want to write a story with a sweeping, epic scale, or if you want to tightly constrain the number of people your story is about, I guess it’s possible to give everyone involved a meaningful character arc. Now.... is it always necessary? Is it always possible? Does it always make sense? No, of course not. If you want to do that, you have to devote real estate to it, and depending on the story you want to tell, it could very possibly be a distraction from your main point, like the idea of mxtx tenderly eulogizing every single character who dies even incidentally. Lan Qiren doesn’t get a loving examination of his feelings re: his nephews and wei wuxian and political turnover in the cultivation world because it’s not relevant, and also, because his position is pretty static until right near the end of the story. Lan Xichen is arguably one of the most static characters within the book, he seems like the same nice young between Gusu and the present, right up until... just before the end of the story.

You may see where I’m heading with this.

Like, just imagine trying to demand that every important character needs to go through a major life change before the end of your book or else it didn’t count. This just in, Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg go through multiple novels without experiencing radical shifts in who they are, stop liking them immediately. I do get that the idea is that Jiang Cheng was a ~bad person~ who didn’t change, but asdgfsd I thought we were over the handwringing over people being allowed to like ““bad”” fictional characters. The man isn’t even a canonical serial killer, he’s not my most problematic fave even within this novel.

And here is where it’s a little more relevant that I would quibble with that original post about Jiang Cheng’s arc. He’s consistently a mean girl, but he goes from stressed, sharp-edged teenager, to grief-stricken, almost-destroyed teen, to grim, cold young adult (and then detours into grim, cold, and grief-stricken until grief dulls with time). He does become an attentive uncle tho. He..... doesn’t experience a radical change in his sense of self, which... it’s...... not all that strange for an adult. And bam, then he DOES experience a radical change, but the needs of the plot dictate that it’s right near the end. And he’s not the focus of the story, baby, wangxian is. He has the last few lines of the story, which nicely communicate his changes to me, but also asdfafas we’re out of story. He was never the main character, it’s not surprising we don’t linger! The extras aren’t beholden to the needs of plot, but they’re also about whatever mxtx wanted to write, and I guess she didn’t feel like writing about Jiang Cheng ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But also. Taking a step backward. Stable characters can fill a perfectly logical place in a story. Like, look at Leia Organa. I’m not saying she has no arc, but I am saying that she’s a solid point of reference as Luke is becoming a jedi and Han is adjusting his perspective. I wouldn’t call her stagnant, the vibes are wrong, but she also isn’t miserable in her sadness swamp, the way Jiang Cheng is.

Or, hell, look at tgcf. The stagnant, frozen nature of the big bad is a central feature of the story. The bwx of now is the bwx of 800 years ago is the bwx of 1500+ years ago. This is not the place for a meta on how that was bad for those around him and for him himself, but I have Thoughts about how being defeated at the end is both a thing that hurts him and relieves him. Mei Nianqing is a sympathetic character who’s also pretty darn static. Does Ling Wen have a character arc, or do we just learn more about who she already is and what her priorities always were? I’m going to cut myself off here, but a character’s delta between the beginning of a story and the end of a story is a reasonable way to judge how interesting writing character meta is, and is a very silly metric to judge their worth, and even if I guessed at what the basic logic is, for this character, I am still baffled that it’s being put forth as a real talking point.

(also, has it jumped ship to any other characters yet? have people started applying it in other fandoms as well? please let me know if this is the case, I am wildly curious)

(no, but really, if anyone is arguing that bwx is gross specifically because he had centuries to self-reflect and didn’t fix himself, i am desperate to know)

And finally. The thing I thought was most self-evident. Did I post about this sometime recently? If a non-central character experiences a life-altering paradigm shift right near the end of the story (without it being lingered over, because non-central character), oh my god. As a fic writer? IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE. This is the most fertile possible ground. If I want to write post-canon canon-compliant material, adsgasfasd that’s where I’m going to be looking. Okay, yeah, the main couple is happy, that’s good. Who isn’t happy, and what can I do about that? Happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, etc.

It’s not everyone’s favorite playground, but come on, these are not uncommon feelings. And frankly, it’s starting to feel a little disingenuous when people act like fan authors pick out the most blameless angel from the cast and lavish good things upon them. I’m not the only one who goes looking for a good dumpster fire and says I Live Here Now. If I write post-canon tgcf fic, it’s very likely to focus on beef and/or leaf. I have written more than one au focusing on tianlang-jun.

And, hilariously. If the problem with Jiang Cheng. Is that he is a toxic man fictional character who failed to grow on his own, and is either unsafe or unhealthy to be around. If the problem is that he did not experience a character arc. If these people would be totally fine with other people liking him, if he improved himself as a person. And then, if authors want to put in the (free! time-consuming!) work of writing that character development themselves. You would think that they would be lauded for putting the character through healthier sorts of personal growth than he experienced in canon. Instead, I am still here writing this because first, I was bothered by these authors being named as “freaks” who are obsessed with their ‘uwu precious tsundere baby’ with a “love language of violence,” and then I was graciously informed that people hate Jiang Cheng because he experiences no character growth.

#jiang cheng #mdzs #the untamed #disk horse #long post/ #abuse/ #only tangentially #but better safe than sorry i hope

[ectonurites]

hey! how knowledgeable are you on stephanie brown? because i got in a bit of an argument with a dc fan on reddit who claims she's all these awful things, but im still relatively new to steph and i want to see what was true and what wasn't. link to screenie right here: https://ibb.co/vh6CYCJ

these may be matters of opinion, but even then, i'd like to know your take. i haven't read her firsthand often enough and i trust your judgement over this random redditor who seems to have some sort of blonde-woman related trauma left untapped.

I'm not necessarily the most knowledgable on her in the world, but I do know a decent amount because she's one of my absolute faves and I love her

But ohhhh boy that screenshot is a lot.

I will say that several of the things this person brings up are based in canon but are taken in the worst faith and framed in the way that makes her look as bad as possible, if that makes sense? It’s ripping things away from any context, because there's a very clear bias against her here.

I'll go through it point by point under the cut

First of all though before digging into this, I want to make it clear she was a 15 year old for the majority of the things this person is talking about. Like just pause for a second and remember she’s a 15 year old victim of abuse. That is something that I think factors into a lot of her behavior! Anyways, I kinda while doing this got into a ranty 'talking at you' format in response to the person who wrote all that, so don't take any of this as me yelling at you who asked the question/you anyone reading this.

"She always acted entitled" - Saying Steph is entitled is absolutely ridiculous to me. Stephanie grew up with a very unstable childhood due to her dad frequently being in prison and her mom dealing with a drug addiction, living in a lower class part of the city. Tim is entitled. I don’t mean that as like a bad thing about him, but he is based on his living situation, she is not. She has wanted life to be better for herself and her mom, and is determined about that, but she is not and does not act entitled.

(Secret Origins 80 Page Giant)

"and stubborn" - I will give you stubborn though, that one is true. She’s stubborn as hell! I don’t really see that as a bad thing though, pretty much every bat is stubborn?

"demanding that Batman and Robin accept her untrained ass" - Steph may have been untrained in fighting but she's shown to have exceptional gymnastics skills from the start, and at one point Bruce even says that with the right training she could be as good if not better than Tim (in Robin #88)! So like... her realizing she enjoys trying to be a hero after she tried it out to deal with her personal business, so she looks to the local experts… and is determined about it… how is that a bad thing? It’s also not like she walked up to them and said ‘im perfect as i am let me in’ what she wanted was a chance to be a hero. But she also wasn't even really looking for approval, either, not having Batman's blessing was never going to stop her. ("So excuse me if I don't jump when you bark, Batman." in Robin #16) Later when Bruce does bring her in to train (and she also gets to train with the BoP) she's excited! She’s stubborn about wanting to be in the hero business, but it’s not like she’s unwilling to work for it.

"advocating leaving criminals to die because they 'deserve it'" - She’s a 15 year old who grew up knowing firsthand how dangerous Gotham criminals can be because of her dad, of course off the bat when they’re in a dangerous situation where any of them could die (because that’s the context here, this is in Robin #35 where they’re trapped in some super dangerous snow) she thinks they shouldn’t go back for another criminal who just tried to kill them and should instead save themselves. But she also literally WITHIN THAT SAME ISSUE then says she realized she learned something after listening to Tim and trying to save the guy! In the same issue! Characters in a story aren’t supposed to be perfect from the start… they learn things along the way???

(Robin #35)

"trying to steal from the shops they just stopped from being burglarized" - She’s 15 and doesn’t have a ton of money. She was gonna take two sodas, and when Tim said not to do it she paid with very little fuss. They stopped people who were robbing the place at gunpoint for prescription drugs. If you can’t understand the difference in severity between those things like… I do not even know where to start. (this situation is in Robin #56 btw)

"forcing physical affection onto Tim despite his visible discomfort and repeated objections (not even stopping when he told her he had a girlfriend)" - This one I will give you because she did cross boundaries with all that! But I do also want to clarify that she didn't start coming onto him until after Tim kissed her first (in Robin #5) while not telling her he had a girlfriend. That doesn’t excuse her later actions but for the first issue that she’s coming onto him from her perspective he expressed interest and she was just returning it! She even specifically says 'Maybe I should pay you back for saving my life the same way you paid me' (in Robin #16) before kissing him. That first time she kissed him unprompted was under essentially the same circumstances he kissed her unprompted, and she literally did not know about Ariana until after the fact. From that point once she knew about Ari she definitely should have backed off and she didn’t, that’s a very fair thing to criticize about her as a character. But Tim lead her on first, and I feel a lot of people like to casually forget that when talking about this situation. The way this is phrased of ‘not even stopping when he told her-‘ implies she was repeatedly doing the bad behavior before he told her, which is not the case. She still did bad things here but don’t misrepresent the situation.

"And lashing out at Tim, her mother, and her classmates in violent fits of anger" - Every comic book character lashes out at other people for the sake of drama like, I dare you to come up with a well-known superhero character who hasn’t done shit like that to a partner/family/friends in a moment of high tension/stress?

"She treated the girls around her like they were stupid bitches" - frankly this ones a little too vague like, I'm not sure off the top of my head exactly what they're talking about? in that era right around her pregnancy and stuff I really don't recall her being mean with other girls? I could be forgetting something I guess but the closest I can think of is a bit after this period of time when she has the confrontation with Greta in Young Justice but that was Greta attacking her first, not the other way around.

"got insanely jealous if Tim so much as expressed concern about another girl" - Steph getting jealous and thinking Tim was cheating isn’t that crazy when STEPHANIE BASICALLY WAS THE OTHER GIRL DURING TIM’S LAST RELATIONSHIP? Tim has cheated a little bit before! Tim cheated on Ari with both Jubilee from Marvel (during a crossover thing where he even mentions Ari specifically so it’s not like this was out of continuity/a setting she wasn't an issue or something) and also with Steph. While most of the kissing between them was Steph coming onto Tim which I wouldn’t count as cheating on his end, he did still kiss her which I would count. Not to mention that the jealousy thing (I imagine they’re talking about the instance with Star, the girl who taught Tim to skateboard, this arc of stuff starts in Robin #80 and continues for a few issues) is happening during the time she’s dating him while she still doesn’t even know his real name. He literally has a whole other life she doesn’t know about, and is someone who has initiated romantic moments with other girls while in a relationship multiple times before! With that in mind I don’t think a 16 (she's def 16 by this point) year old girl being kinda paranoid about how he interacts with girls he might know in his civilian life is that unreasonable? The later big instance with jealousy is the Darla situation- where Steph sees Darla kiss him and gets mad about it (and doesn’t talk to him about it) and thats what prompts her to become Robin. The important thing to remember about Steph in this time frame is that DC decided she had to die and they wanted to make her Robin first to drum up more attention for that death. They were doing ooc things with her to set those pieces in motion, and that needs to be taken into account. I think her getting upset about seeing something like that isn’t even ooc, but her using it as motivation to become Robin and not even saying anything to him about it is. In the earlier instance where she’s upset/jealous about Star, she does communicate to him what’s going on at least a little bit on the rooftop after they’d saved her. She makes it clear the thing she was upset about is that she feels like she can’t trust him because she doesn’t really know him while he knows everything about her, and that’s why she thinks he’s cheating. Her reaction to the Darla thing is not in line with how earlier in canon Steph would have handled the same situation, because they wanted her to die and needed a way to explain her becoming Robin.

"and expressed that jealousy by accusing him of cheating and throwing things at him" - I just addressed the cheating stuff but the throwing things was fucking slapstick oh my god this is a comic book for kids/teens like. ah yes this is horrible abuse in this little funny montage of how Steph wants him to leave her alone because she’s mad at him and he refuses to give her space

(Robin #82)

I don’t think anyone at DC or even in fandom would/should try to argue she’s perfect, because she’s not! And I don’t want her to be because perfect characters are boring. Steph is flawed, Steph has been compared in canon to Robin-era Jason by Cass & Bruce

(Detective Comics #790)

And I think these highlight some of her very real flaws that are an interesting part of her character. These plus her stubbornness and determination are part of what makes her her.

And for fuck's sake the world was mean to her, and to act like it wasn’t is just blatantly ignoring a lot. A criminal father who made her life really difficult (‘when my dad was mad at me he’d lock me in the closet!’), that time she got kidnapped for two weeks and her mom had left her (a 15 year old) alone at home so long she didn't even find out it happened (in text Steph says Crystal was visiting friends, a lot of people interpret that as her mom possibly being in rehab for her addictions again), that whole thing about how one of her dad’s friends tried to sexually assault her as a child, also just how due to her dad's work sometimes criminals would be living in their house (Literally the fucking Riddler at one point!), the fact that we as an audience watched her get tortured for several days because a plan she tried to enact to prove herself backfired since Batman didn’t trust her with important information (something Selina even calls him out on in her internal narration), like… sorry but in what way is all that not the world being mean to her?

She was Robin, she dated Robin, she likes Eggplant (because purple would've looked stupid), and makes jokes. She’s also impulsive, headstrong and determined, and wants to prove to herself and others that she can be more than just the daughter of a shitty criminal, that she can actually be a force to do good in the world.

She’s a complex character, and nobody is required to like her, but to act like she doesn’t have a single redeeming trait is ridiculous. You could write a paragraph like that with the worst moments of basically any character and make them look like shit if that's what you were setting out to do.

[schrijverr]

Cried Out

When Hizashi accidentally uses his quirk after he gets startled, he retreats back into his shell, afraid to use his voice at all. Luckily Shota is there for him.

On AO3.

Ships: EraserMic

Warnings: self-loathing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present Mic was loud – Hizashi was loud – that was just a fact.

However, he hadn’t always been loud. As much as he yelled and talked now, there had been a time when Hizashi was scared to whisper, not to mention talk. He had gotten over it before he applied for UA, but his friends had known about it and sometimes he wasn’t in the mood to talk and they respected it.

Neither would mention how those days usually were after he’d lost control of his quirk or had been working intensively with it.

But that hadn’t happened in years. Shota grew up alongside Hizashi, they got better, went professional, even stepping side by side into the teaching position at UA. They knew each other and Shota was so proud of how far his friend, his beloved had come.

Sadly, just because something hadn’t happened in years, didn’t mean it could never come and rear its ugly head again.

It happened on a normal Thursday.

Hizashi had been walking towards the teachers lounge after school, completely unaware that there were still students in the building. The dorm system hadn’t been in place long andno one was fully used to the students being there full-time.

So when the door suddenly swung open and nearly hit him, he didn’t just jump from nearly being hit, but also from the human shape in the hallway. He couldn't help it, it startled him. It startled him so badly in fact that it ripped a scream from his throat.

A quirked up scream.

He could only watched, horrified, as the loud vibrations made it through the hallway, hitting the student who had been standing just a few feet away, head on.

Once the scream had left his mouth completely, he rushed forwards to the student frantically. He was about to ask if the kid was alright when he remembered what his voice had done, so he just quietly checked him over.

It was Bakugo.

Fuck.

He was a strong teen, sure, but still a teen. Not to mention a teen who had recently been kidnapped, so it wouldn’t be strange if was still a bit on edge. For him to be accidentally attacked by a teacher, probably wasn’t the best.

“Present Mic?” he asked confused and why wouldn’t he be confused? Hizashi was supposed to protect him, not attack him, he thought a bit hysterical.

Hizashi didn’t react, just held out a hand to haul him up and giving him concerned eyes. Bakugo let himself be pulled to his feet, still sending Hizashi weird looks as he asked: “Oi, are you okay?”

He replied with a curt nod and a tight smile, before leading him to Recovery Girl, wanting to make sure his attack hadn’t caused permanent damage. He was surprised the kid was still standing much less talking to him after it, honestly.

Recovery Girl raised a brow when they came in, only to frown when Hizashi didn’t say anything and Bakugo had to explain: “I think there’s something wrong with Present Mic.”

At that Hizashi shook his head and gestured to Bakugo that the kid was the one who needed to be checked over, not him.

“What happened?” Recovery Girl asked.

Bakugo had realized Hizashi wasn’t about to talk, so he answered: “I accidentally scared him when I left the classroom, he screamed, then got all weird and quiet.”

It dawned on Recovery Girl what must have happened and she asked: “When he screamed, did he use his quirk? Can you hear okay?”

“I can hear fine,” Bakugo frowned.

Hizashi slumped in relief, he was glad Bakugo was fine even if he didn’t understand how. Recovery Girl also seemed surprised but glad to hear it. She still wanted to make sure, so she said: “That’s good to hear. I still want to check, just in case, so take a seat. Yamada, go get Aizawa, it’s his student,” and your comfort, she didn’t add out loud.

Quickly nodding, Hizashi left, practically running to get Shota.

He found him taking a nap on the couch in the teachers lounge and he quickly shook him awake, a fond smile gracing his face when he blinked slowly. That smile fell away, when Shota asked: “Wha? Hizashi?”

Shota saw Hizashi’s expression and sat up, frowning: “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

Hizashi shrugged helplessly. Recovery Girl had said Bakugo was alright, but she still wanted to check and she had send for Shota, so maybe it wasn’t okay and it would be his fault.

“Hizashi?” Shota asked again.

He pointed at the door and tugged at Shota’s hand, feeling even more bad and guilty when worry appeared in those beautiful black eyes. But he couldn't talk, he couldn't risk hurting Shota or anyone else for that matter.

“Lead the way,” Shota told him, leaving his sleeping bag behind. If it rendered his husband speechless then it must be bad, fuck.

The feeling of dread creeped up even more on Shota when Hizashi took him to Recovery Girl’s office and gestured for him to go inside. He frowned and asked him: “You’re not coming with me?”

Hizashi shook his head, he wasn’t about to go into a room with more people that he could hurt or hurt again. He hated that he didn’t have anything to write with on him and that he’d never told Shota about it.

Sure the other knew, but he hadn’t said that he used to carry around a notebook and pen everywhere just in case. He was regretting that now, but it had seemed logical at the time.

As an awkward teen he hadn’t wanted the cool boy in his class to know he had so little control as a child and by the time it would be something he mentioned, it was no longer truly relevant and Hizashi had been glad to toss it into oblivion.

Until now.

Now he cursed himself as he paced up and down the hall while Shota went in to check on Bakugo and hear what Hizashi had done.

After a few nerve wrecking minutes Bakugo came out of the office, looking at his stressed out teacher and greeting him: “Hello, Present Mic.”

Hizashi smiled at him, but didn’t react. Bakugo rolled his eyes and looked away, before he put his hands in his pockets and scowled: “The old lady told me to tell you I’m fine and to stop worrying. Don’t be weird tomorrow.”

Then the teen walked off and Hizashi watched him go. He was glad the kid was fine, but he hated how he couldn't even comfort him or tell him he was fine. He also hated that he was terrified that he had to be in front of the class tomorrow.

How could he stand there and talk, knowing that a misstep could incapacitate the new generation of heroes? How would the school explain that to their parents? Or the press?

He hadn’t realized how focused he was on panicking until a hand on his shoulder startled him. He gasped then quickly slapped his hands before his mouth before any sound could come out.

“Already thought that was the problem,” Shota sighed.

Hizashi tried to swallow away the tears that built up when he heard his husband sound- well, he sounded disappointed or maybe more sad. At least negative and Hizashi had put that tone there in his nice gruff voice.

“Recovery Girl said you lost control,” Shota said and Hizashi wished he would forget, “But Bakugo is fine. With his explosive quirk, he has a natural protection against sounds and you didn’t use your quirk at full volume. He’s fine.”

No, he isn’t fine, he got lucky. Any other student and Hizashi would have been responsible for a lifelong injury.

“Can you talk to me, Hizashi?” Shota asked, voice soft and careful.

Hizashi shook his head.

“You’re too strung up right now, lets go to home and get you some tea,” Shota suggested, taking Hizashi’s hand and intertwining their fingers.

The contact was a balm on his worries and Hizashi held on like it was a lifeline as Shota lead them to the teachers dorms that had been instated along with the dorms for the students.

In their apartment, he sat Hizashi down on the couch and went to make tea while Hizashi stared at the table and tried to fight off the uneasy feeling coming from all sides.

Why did he get his license if he didn’t even have control?

How could he justify being a teacher when he had done that?

What would happen now?

He should stop being a teacher. He was dangerous.

“Hey, no attacking my husband,” Shota broke him out his thoughts as he held out a cup of tea.

Hizashi gladly took it and sipped, trying not to meet the eyes Shota was attempting to interlock. He knew his behavior wasn’t helping, but he was steeping guilt and fine to wallow in the feeling and not interact with anyone until he felt safe to do so.

“Can you look at me, dear?” Shota asked, petname perking Hizashi’s attention.

Cautiously Hizashi did, preparing to see disappointment and anger, despite the gentle voice. Instead he found a soft look and floating hair as Shota erased his quirk: “Talk to me, please.”

Relief flooded through Hizashi’s, he couldn't believehe hadn’t thought of that, and the tears that had been building slipped out of his eyes along with loud sobs. Shota rubbed his shoulder, softly telling him when he blinked so that Hizashi could hold the sob for a second.

When all the tears he had in him were spilled, he collapsed against Shota, who wrapped his arms around him and kissed his forehead.

“Want to tell me why this set you off? I know you had your quiet days, but I haven’t seen you cry about them like this since-” Shota cut himself off, but both knew what, or whom he had been referring to.

“I’m dangerous,” Hizashi whispered.

“You? Dangerous?” Shota sounded genuinely surprised, “Never. You’re the most caring and lovable guy I know. You’re the furthest from dangerous, Hizashi.”

“I attacked a student who hasjust been kidnapped, Shota,” Hizashi was trying to mix quiet and forceful, “I don’t have control. If it was anyone else, they would be permanently deaf. I- I shouldn’t be near people.”

“I would be upset with you if you weren’t near me,” Shota confessed.

“But you can erase my quirk, you can incapacitate me,” Hizashi countered, “The students can’t do that, they’re vul-”

Hizashi cut himself off when he saw Shota’s hair come down and he glared at his husband.

“Sorry, had to blink,” Shota apologized, not sounding that sorry for cutting of the self-loathing rant,“And I’m not scared of you. You aren’t dangerous, Hizashi, you’re tired. We all are. The world is different and we’re all working overtime. It was an accident.”

It was clear he was waiting for Hizashi to respond, but Hizashi wasn’t saying anything with his quirk still there.

Shota sighed when he realized and erased Hizashi’s quirk.

“I don’t care if it was an accident,” Hizashi frowned, “It was dangerous and I could have hurt someone. I’m no hero if my slip ups because I’m tired cause harm. UA is dealing with enough backlash as it is, we can’t afford my slip ups to createmore distrust. I’m resigning. I shouldn’t be allowed to use my quirk in pub-”

Again he cut himself off, because Shota stopped erasing his quirk. He shot him a glare that he hoped conveyed: you did that on purpose.

It did.

“Yeah, fuck that, I’m not sitting here and listening to you spouting bullshit, Hizashi. UA needs you, now more than ever. You’re a great and trustworthy asset and we already don’t have enough of that as it stands. We can’t loose you here, the students can’t loose you here.”

Hizashi rolled his eyes, but he was a bit touched, though not enough to be convinced.

Shota noticed and went on: “And what will you do when you resign? Go back to our apartment in the city? Not see me ever? Or come back to the dorms and be a ‘risk’ anyways? I don’t know if I can do that, Hizashi. I don’t know I would survive without you here.”

That hit home for Hizashi. Shota always tried to be independent and uncaring, but Hizashi knew better, of course he did. He had been there for all Shota’s lows. It was just rather unique for him to admit that he needed help from time to time.

But he had, he had admitted it. For him.Hizashi had been so wrapped up in himself, he hadn’t even thought about Shota.

Guilt bubbled up again and silent tears fell out of his eyes.

Shota wrapped him up in his arms again and shushed him soothingly. Hizashi wanted to tell him it should be the other way around. He should be comforting Shota, but it was hard to do that right now and his husband’s muscular chest felt safe.

“Please don’t go?” Shota asked, voice breaking.

Hizashi shook his head adamantly and held on tighter to Shota to show he wasn’t going anywhere. When Shota informed him he was erasing his quirk, he quickly said: “Never. I’m not going, darling. I’m right here, sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, just stay, it’s going to be okay,” Shota said, “Just take tomorrow off, rest. You need it. I’m sure Nezu would understand.”

He nodded into Shota’s chest and held on. He wasn’t ready to talk yet, wasn’t ready to be loud, but Shota had always understood that. He would be safe here, until he was ready to face the world with a smile and a yell.

#RR writing #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #erasermic #yamada hizashi #present mic #aizawa shouta #eraser head #eraser head x present mic #yamada hizashi x aizwa shouta #aizawa shota #recovery girl #bakugo katsuki #tw: self esteem issues #tw: self deprecation

[akitokihojo]

Monster - Chapter 2

This chapter runs a little long so I'm sorry about that, but it's all essential I promise!

Also, I want to thank (again) those who messaged me like two months ago to give me insight on maternal instincts and emotions. You have no idea how much I appreciate each and every one of you who'd reached out to help. This is the final result of that, and I sincerely hope I brought justice to your advice! <3

chapter index

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“Sota.” God, she seemed so crushed, so unstable. To him, somehow, seeing her this way always made her appear so small and fragile, and it was on one hand that he could count the amount of times he’d actually seen her like this. Her head was hanging and she wasn’t making eye contact. Like, she felt shame on top of her anguish.

“Kagome, climb. I’ll be right behind you.” He promised as reassuringly as possible.

Finally, she moved. Kagome pulled her sleeve over her wounded palm and then grabbed the ladder, her shaking fingers gripping tighter than normal to prevent her from incidentally falling with her current, unsteady state. She went as fast as she could to get to the top, ignoring the adrenaline-dulled sting on her left hand until she reached the sturdy, wooden flooring of the treehouse, and crawled inside. Sota was quick to follow her up as soon as he was clear, always faster than she’d been up the damned thing.

He was cautious as he approached, watching her as she stared at the ground she sat on between her parted thighs. Kagome’s back was against the wall, but her shoulders were slumped forward, defeated.

“I’m fine now.” She softly mentioned. “You don’t have to worry.”

“You don’t have to lie.” Sota returned.

“I’m just a in a bit of shock is all.”

“It’s not your fault.” He said after a brief moment of silence. Kagome hung her head a little lower. “It’s not, Kagome. You can’t control everything, especially what you don’t know. You can’t hold yourself responsible for another conjurer getting killed.”

“Sota, stop. Please.” Kagome was beginning to cry, he could hear the wetness as she spoke, though she continued to hide her face and hold her breath.

“You put too much on your own shoulders, sometimes. It’s not right.”

“I didn’t choose this.” She whispered tremblingly.

“No, you didn’t. So, you’re allowed to not know what’s going on, and you’re allowed to not know how to fix things, and you’re allowed to make mistakes, and you’re allowed to not be the hero. That doesn’t make you a villain, though. And, it doesn’t put you at fault.”

Kagome broke then, sobbing as she folded forward, her arms clutching over her chest to hold herself securely. Slowly, Sota scooted himself closer, gently unfurling his older sister just enough to have her rest against him, her head on his shoulder while he held her and provided warmth. She cried so hard she coughed, shook, and nearly hyperventilated, but Sota did as their parents had done with them when they cried. He stayed still, didn’t budge, rubbed the length of her back with his fingers, and waited patiently for the stress to filter out of her system.

“You know,” Kagome spoke between trembling breaths that rocked her chest, a lingering affect from the hard cry. “I think we’ve got the roles reversed here.”

“What do you mean?” Sota asked.

“I’m the big sibling. I’m the one that’s supposed to be comforting you.” She lightly giggled, shaking her head and sitting upright as she wiped the remaining tears from her eyes.

“You’re also the crybaby of the two of us.” Sota shrugged.

“Says the sissy.”

“You call it being a sissy, I call it not getting my butt kicked in the middle of town.” He teased. “Those are also referred to as, survival skills.”

Kagome chuckled, her throat cursing her for the slight aggravation even that had caused, but she ignored it. It wasn’t all that bad. Not in comparison to the headache she was now sporting. Feeling a little crusty on her face, she took her sleeve and wiped again, noticing a good helping of dirt come off on her shirt.

“Oh, god.” She groaned, continuing the motion to clean off her face of what she knew were the remnants of somewhat-dried mud. “How bad do I look right now?”

Sota frowned slightly, shaking his head. “I don’t feel like you want the answer to that.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Awful.”

“Nice.” She shrugged her brows, giving up on any further attempt at cleaning her face. She could feel the filth on her clothes, in her hair, on her forehead. It was taking extreme effort not to look at her stained sleeves and her soiled hands. At this point, she didn’t even feel the cut on her palm anymore, completely muted by everything else.

“I can’t -“ The serious expression was back on her face, brown eyes drifting to the far, low wall as she receded back into her guilt-riddled mind. “I can’t believe that I ever thought that just by being present, I would be able to prevent another’s death when all I did was stand there.”

“What are you talking about? You were never prepared for something like this.” Sota countered.

“No. I guess I wasn’t, was I? I always thought if someone was falsely accused, I would immediately stop it. But, there was actually another conjurer all along. I had no idea. And, I just - it happened so fast.”

She noticed her little brother flinch minutely, his own eyes falling to the floorboards they sat on. It must have been so hard for him to watch, too. It was terrible, and he had to witness it all from the sidelines, no doubt holding their mom back while watching his sister get yanked away by the hair and thrown against the wall, only making matters worse. Knowing him, he was probably holding his breath the whole time, hoping she wasn’t found out as a conjurer, herself. And yet, here he was comforting her because he knew she was scared. He must have been terrified.

Reaching over with her non-wounded hand, Kagome softly ruffled his dark hair, waiting until his attention wandered up to her.

“Sorry.” She whispered.

“It’s okay.” Sota shrugged. “I’m just glad it wasn’t worse.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking, I - I just had to try something. You understand, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You wouldn’t really be Kagome if you didn’t.”

“What?”

“Well, you’re kind of notorious for never minding your business and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. You’re also a little reckless, extremely impulsive, and have a bad habit of not thinking of the consequences of your actions until after you’ve already done the thing.”

Kagome’s mouth hung agape, taken aback by her apparent reputation. “Hey.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

The thing was, she couldn’t. She knew these details about herself, it was just a hard pill to swallow when it was all bundled into one. So, she huffed in defeat instead, nudging his head away.

“Just, next time, can you fight back? At least a little?” Sota asked, chuckling. “How are you supposed to help bring Naraku down if you can’t even manage to throw a punch?”

“Why are you harping on me so much? Aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me?”

“Just because you’re my sister doesn’t mean you get my support by default.”

“That’s exactly what I’m supposed to get.” Kagome argued.

“It’s kind of embarrassing actually. The name, ‘conjurer,’ alone, is intimidating, but on you it’s like -“

“Finish that sentence and I will flatten you.” She threatened.

“How?” Sota laughed. “That’s that problem, sis! You can’t fight! Your power move is your backtalk, and you can’t even speak without your voice cracking right now, so what the hell are you gonna do?”

Without missing a beat, Kagome shoved the heel of her palm into the center of Sota’s forehead. It wasn’t strong enough to push him back or hurt him by any means, but it was definitely the perfect amount of force to shock her brother and shut him up, the pre-teen now too busy laughing and rubbing the spot of his head she’d just offended.

“Punk ass.” She huffed.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I was just kidding!” Sota smiled, the expression slowly fading to one of interest. “So, mind if I ask you something?”

“Hm?” Kagome couldn’t help but be a little suspicious of the question on his tongue, given he was just teasing. She could tell, though, with the change in tone and the look in his brown eyes, that his curiosity had been curbed for long enough now.

“How’d you do it? The test, I mean. How’d you manage to hide that you were a conjurer?”

“I hide it every time.” She reminded him, kind of dismissively.

“Yeah, but no other time was like this? They narrowed the age group, and I don’t think they’ve ever strategized to this degree. It was like a foolproof plan; they seemed so confident. I mean, they even got…” He stopped there, unable to finish that sentence. “I just don’t really understand what happened.”

Kagome sighed, giving in what she felt was too easily but also justified, crossing her legs to sit a little more comfortably as she braced her elbows on her thighs. It’d been a secret for a while, and though she’d hoped it’d stay that way for a while more, she wasn’t about to attempt to lie to Sota when he would not only be able to see right through her, but also deserved the truth. “They were going for our receptors to stress. They typically do that every time, except not to this extreme. By cutting us, with our fight-or-flight response already revving, the pain and undeniable evidence of physical danger is kind of like a kick to our adrenaline levels. Throw in their darkness against our natural instinct for light, and you’ve got yourself a mess. To be honest, I don’t know the exact science behind it; this is just the only explanation that makes sense to me. So, when I saw them go about it with the first girl and figured out exactly what they were trying to do, I knew how to counter.”

“Wait, what? How?” Sota asked, almost more confused than before.

“I’ve - um - I’ve been practicing.”

“Practicing what, exactly? What’s there to practice?”

“A multitude of things.” Kagome stated. “Like, sensing demons, how much power is necessary to kill one, how to purify, how much is too much and how much is too little - because situations vary, how to channel my power into my arrows, and in this case, how not to react at all.”

Sota’s lips slowly parted in slight awe. “You can do all that?”

“Sort of.” She replied, giving a one-shouldered shrug. “I struggle with a few things still, but I’m not helpless.”

“Who were you training with? You know someone who can help?”

“No, not necessarily.” She shook her head. “It’s just been Miroku, Sango, and I.”

“What?” Sota’s brows furrowed considerably, appearing upset as he processed her admittance. “You guys were - since when!? You guys have been training and I was never a part of it!?”

Kagome sighed, head falling back for a split second in exasperation as she received the exact reaction she’d been expecting. “Sota, I’m sorry, okay? We couldn’t get you involved, though.”

“Why the hell not!? You know how badly I want to learn how to use a sword, and I never got to train with papa and uncle like you guys did!”

“Because, we’re doing this for a reason. It’s not just to keep up with what papa was teaching me, it’s to get way better than I was ever expected to become. Papa was teaching me basic skills, and yes, he really helped ground me when it came to channeling my spiritual power into my arrows as I shot them, but that was it. I wanted - no, needed - to get better, and develop my conjurer abilities for the sake of myself, you guys, and everything happening around us. Would you rather me be defenseless?”

“No, of course not, but -“

“Then, okay!” She cut him off. “Now I’m not. You weren’t included because we didn’t want you to know, Sota. We didn’t want anyone to know. Mama doesn’t know, Sango’s dad doesn’t know, no one knows.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Kagome! This isn’t fair!” He argued, cheeks hued with an angry pink.

“You want to talk to me about unfair!?” Kagome shouted, her own face growing hot with frustration. “You don’t know the half of it!”

“Hey, you’ve at least got some powers to work with! Throw in your bow and arrow, and you’re set! I don’t have crap! Papa died before I was old enough to learn a damn thing, and Sango’s dad’s too much of a stickler to train boys younger than fifteen!”

“First of all, watch your language! You’re still a kid!” He huffed at her stern tone, and she could literally see the annoyed rebuttal on his lips, so she continued before giving him the chance. “Second, I like how one minute you pity me for my powers, and now all of a sudden I’m lucky to have them because you somehow think you’ve gotten the short end of the stick!? Pick a side, you selfish brat! You should enjoy the fact that you don’t need to know how to use a weapon, Sota!”

“You had your first lesson when you were eight!”

“Is this about me, or is this about papa?”

“It’s about the fact that I feel useless!”

“You don’t need to know how to fight to be useful!”

“I might have been able to save you today if I did!”

Oh. Oh.

Kagome took a moment to compose herself, exhaling heat from her tightly-clenched throat as she re-evaluated her younger brother’s reasoning for being so mad. She’s known how badly he’s wanted to learn how to fight, and she’s known that he would resent her for multiple reasons when and if he found out the three of them had kept up the training their fathers had started them on. As much as she would have enjoyed including him, it was for his own safety that she hadn’t. They were doing something dangerous, and truthfully, it was only in preparation of something even more dangerous. Sota didn’t need to be involved in that mess. He deserved to be free of that stress and responsibility. She’d even said Miroku and Sango shouldn’t be involved, but that easily went ignored as if she’d never brought up the argument in the first place. Her cousin and she were incredibly close, he was as protective of her as an older brother would be, and Sango was, admittedly, the biggest help of all, being the most skilled in combat, demon knowledge, and with weapons. Without them, their patience, their observations and constructive criticism of how she could better her techniques, and even their willingness to learn alongside her and offer suggestions, she most likely wouldn’t have gotten this far. Not on her own.

She felt like a total ass for calling Sota a selfish brat. She’d assumed his point of view was more superficial, when all he really wanted to do was contribute. All he wanted to do was help her when she’d gone and gotten herself into trouble. She knew better than anyone how entrapping it was to feel so helpless in dire situations.

He wasn’t looking at her anymore. Sota was defiantly staring at the wall behind her, his arms crossed over his chest to silently communicate that he was peeved. Which wasn’t at all necessary. She got the point.

“Alright, I’m with you.” Kagome tried. “I understand where you’re coming from now.”

Sota looked further away.

“I was only trying to keep you safe by excluding you.”

Still no response. Knowing she was clear to make an aggravated expression, Kagome slowly and dramatically rolled her eyes, leaning away so her back and head rested against the wooden wall.

“I don’t think you’re a selfish brat.”

“I don’t really care whether you do or don’t.” He finally spoke, but his attention remained diverted. “You always try to dismiss me by calling me names, and it’s just your way of neglecting to see my side of things.”

Big words for a twelve year-old, Kagome had to admit. And, as much as she wanted to fight him on his statement, to deny his half-true accusation, she bit her tongue.

“You had your first lesson when you were eight.” Sota repeated, this time steadier. “I didn’t get that. I didn’t get that time with papa, the skill training, the confidence, the knowledge, none of it. By the time you were my age, you had something to work with. You weren’t really supposed to use your power, and the training papa gave you was more to manage it than anything, I get that. But, even if you take that away, you could still shoot straight. I don’t even know the right way to hold a sword. I don’t know the first thing about a blade. I don’t have the slightest idea how to pull an arrow through a bow and make sure my shot counts. You know what I know how to do? Stand back, stay quiet, and hold mom’s hand.” He finally looked at his sister, his brown eyes, a degree lighter than hers, deep with animosity. “You don’t know the first thing about what I felt today, and you want to call me selfish? You promised not to do anything stupid, and you ran out blindly, started talking about Kikyo like it was a casual topic, and got manhandled by a demon three times the size as you. As if it wasn’t traumatizing enough to watch a girl get murdered just a few feet away from me, I almost had to watch the same happen to my own sister within the same timeframe. You talk about feeling horrible for just standing there and watching a stranger get killed, well think about having to stand there while your family is the one being threatened. I understand that you didn’t ask for the circumstances that you have no choice but to deal with, but we’re riding the waves alongside you, sis, and just because I’m the youngest doesn’t mean I don’t deserve some consideration.”

“I’m not saying you don’t.” Kagome softly said. “My intentions for keeping you out of it weren’t to belittle or disregard you by any means, Sota. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it as many times as I need to: I only wanted to keep you safe. You’re my little brother. That’s my job. And, what I’m doing is dangerous. And, crazy. But, it’s something I have to do. You don’t. So, that’s why I never wanted you mixed up in it. Yes, you’re involved in the mayhem of these inspections, and I can understand how it’s frustrating to feel so powerless, but I’m going to be honest with you, no matter how much experience you have, that’ll never change. Even the demon slayers can’t stop them; you’ve heard what Sango’s dad has said. Miroku can fight, but you watched him take a beating, too. He got it worse than I did, all because he was trying to stop them from hurting me. What would have happened to you?” Kagome shook her head as the idea of her younger sibling getting kicked in the side and pummeled into the wet dirt filtered through her mind. She blinked her eyes shut as if to block the images from coming again. “No. Sota, I can’t have you getting hurt like that. I’m sorry that you feel it’s unfair that you don’t know how to protect yourself, but that’s just the way things have to be for now.”

Sota had calmed some, she could see it in his face. He was never really the kind to stay mad. Not for long, at least. Sota was the sort who got it out of his system in one swing, and was level-headed enough to see another’s point of view thereafter. He took after their mom. Kagome, on the other hand, constantly had her temper pointed out to her. She was definitely more passionate, more dramatic, more hot-headed, and held the thrown for sass in their family. She was her father’s daughter.

Kagome scooted an inch or two closer to her little brother, nudging his arm. “You aren’t useless. A weapon doesn’t define your worth.”

“Easy for you to say. You can fight. Apparently, better than I thought you could.”

“I mean, just look at what you did for me today. Look at what you did for mama. You’re so patient and kind, and you brought me all the way here as quick as you could so I could cry in private. And, I’m positive you did your best to keep mama as calm as possible. You think the act of holding someone’s hand through something difficult is simple, but it’s not. It’s grounding and supportive. Sota, that’s a lot to offer. Not everyone has the heart that you do.”

“You’re corny.” He murmured, leaning against her shoulder.

“Alright, I’m done being nice to you.” Kagome dully remarked, her attitude quickly shifting, though she was unable to fight her own, small grin. Neither of them moved away, and she allowed him to rest against her, thankful that he didn’t mind the mud she was covered in. It was a little late to think about it, anyway; he’d held her earlier, which got some on his own clothing.

The silence between them was comfortable. The thunder was oddly soothing. Her mind was relaxing finally, her nerves returning to their normal state. What once was cushioned with epinephrine and numbness was now beginning to ache and burn. Still, she made no move to head home just yet. Kagome was in no rush to go back to reality.

“You said this was something you have to do. Training.” Sota mentioned, his voice somewhat hushed. “Why?”

Kagome didn’t answer; not immediately.

“Why, Kagome?”

“You know why. I can’t be expected to help fight against Naraku if I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Wait, but you’re -“

Kagome nodded.

“So, you’re really gonna fight?” Sota breathed.

“Yeah.”

“When?”

She didn’t answer, which was basically all the answer he needed.

“Kagome, are you about to do something insane?”

“I - I am.” She confirmed.

Sota sat upright, brown eyes meeting brown eyes. He took a moment, waiting to see if she would explain herself, but as her plush lips remained closed, and her stare held steadfast, he read what was on her mind. He’d been in the room during her countless retellings of this phantom Kikyo telling her the responsibility was theirs. He knew there was a possibility that Kagome would take that to heart. He knew that she wanted to help defeat Naraku. That all entailed the same result. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Kagome took in a slow, deep inhale, nodding as she exhaled. “Yes.”

“Is there any way I can talk you out of it?”

“No.”

He sighed, hanging his head for a moment in a defeat that came much easier than she would have ever predicted. “So, when do you guys go?”

“It’s actually just me.” Kagome admitted, sitting up to match his body language. The ache in her hand was growing, so she unconsciously switched back and forth between twiddling her fingers and clenching her fist to distract herself from the cut that no longer bled. “I know I said the three of us were training for a reason, but Miroku’s hurt. And, Sango’s not going to want to leave Kohaku on his own. She’ll want to wait until her dad gets back. So, I’m leaving tonight. On my own.”

Just as she finished her sentence, a huge rumble of thunder roared overhead, shaking the little treehouse they resided in. Sota’s attention shot out the door by instinct, drifting back to her as the noise died down. “Of course, you are. At least wait out the storm, will you?”

“Alright, yeah.” Kagome scrunched her nose slightly. “I’ll wait it out as long as I can.”

“You’ll come back?”

“I’ll come back.”

“You promise?” Sota held out his pinky to her.

She couldn’t help the warmth that flooded over her, a small smile curving at her lips as she stared at his finger. Finally, she took it with her own. “I promise. In return, you have to promise not to tell anyone. You’re the only person who knows I’m going. Keep it that way.”

“Gonna be hard to keep it a secret if you’re literally missing, sis.” He mentioned.

“I meant, until morning.” Kagome rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell them until I’m gone.”

“Deal.” Sota begrudgingly obliged, pulling his pinky free. “Come on. We should get back before it starts raining again. Mom’s probably doing that thing where she’s going crazy with worry so she’s smothering Miroku. By the way, he’s gonna kick your ass when he finds out.”

“Language.” Kagome tiredly reminded him, following him over to the edge.

“What are you gonna do? Fight me?” He jokingly mocked, beginning his climb down the rope ladder. Once he was far enough away, knowing she couldn’t do anything to him even if she wanted to, he continued his mindless taunting. “I don’t care what you say, or how much training you swear you’ve done, I still watched you get your shit rocked today.”

“I’m gonna spit on you, you freaking dweeb.” Kagome threatened, inching over the siding of the floorboards as she watched him sway slightly on the rope to hurry down. He knew she was serious, and she liked seeing the panic on his face.

When his feet met the ground, Kagome positioned herself for her own climb down, having to be more careful than before with her hand. She figured, in fact, that climbing up the way she had didn’t help her situation any. She may not have felt it in the moment, but it was easy to tell now that the gash was swollen and highly irritated. Kagome had to move slow, hooking her left forearm through the rope instead of grasping it with her fist.

“Don’t fall, okay? Be careful. I’m right here to catch you.” Sota assured from below. Kagome appreciated the protective offer, but she knew damn well that Sota would be more of a cushion to break the fall since he lacked the muscle - and size - necessary to prevent it.

“You know, your mood swings give me whiplash.” She said through stressed breath. “One minute you’re nice, the next you’re teasing me, the next you’re nice, and the next you’re yelling at me.”

“Yeah, and you’re mood swings give me a migraine. So, I guess we’re even.” Sota countered. It was actually a fair response that Kagome couldn’t even argue against, instead bobbing her head back and forth in agreement.

Her boots reached for the ground, and she felt Sota’s hands instinctually grasp her low back as she gained her footing. As a silent thank you, she ruffled her brother’s hair, notching her head in the direction of their home.

“Will you teach me how to use a sword when you get back?” Sota asked, walking beside his sister. “At least the basics? Please?”

“I don’t know what ‘bow and arrow’ mean to you, Sota, but I’m crap with a sword.” She replied.

“But, you have a knife.”

“Hate to break it to you, but this is definitely a scenario where size does, in fact, matter.���

“What - wow.” He laughed.

“I can teach you how to shoot. Or, maybe I’ll be able to convince Sango to teach you how to use a sword. She’s awesome with one.”

“Miroku may be better off convincing her since his tongue is always down her throat.”

Kagome was the one to laugh that time, cringing slightly. “You’re probably right. Either way, this is only when I get back and if things have calmed down.”

“It’s you. You’re the most stubborn person I know. I know for a fact things will be better when you get back.” He said, approaching the front door of their home and stomping the mud off his boots.

“You do?” Kagome smiled, feeling encouraged.

“Well, yeah. You literally won’t have it any other way. I’m assuming if anyone tries to stop you, you’ll just claw their face off with your unyielding temper.” Sota replied, looking at her with a grin as he made a clawing gesture with his furled fingers.

Kagome deadpanned, entirely unsurprised by the last jab he served her. She raised her fist, quickly jerking it back in an empty threat to hit him, and he threw the door open to run inside.

“Oh, thank goodness. You’re back.” Their mother breathed as soon as they’d appeared, rushing over to them from Miroku’s side on the couch.

“Sorry.” Sota spoke for the both of them, his serious demeanor returning. “We just needed a moment. I know it was a bad time to run off, but -“

“Sota, honey, don’t worry. I understand.” Their mom assured. “Are you two okay.”

“Yeah.” He answered, and their mother’s attention diverted to Kagome.

“Yeah.” Kagome echoed, giving a curt nod.

“Come here.” She walked over, her cold, gentle hands cradling Kagome’s jaw as she turned her face about to check for damage. Kagome knew it was fruitless, though. She was filthy. Still, she looked at her as if her vision could see through thick, dried dirt. Her hands glided down Kagome’s left arm and to her hand, inspecting the cut on her palm. “Let’s get you cleaned up, love.”

“But, Miroku.” Kagome mentioned, peeking over her mom’s shoulder at him. He laid on the couch, his arm planted over his eyes with a light blanket covering most of his body. He was shirtless, looked clean, and seemed almost comfortable, though she could see that a mass of deep red and purple had made home on his ribs.

“I’m on drugs. Leave me alone.” He grunted, not even peeking over at them.

“I gave him some herbs so he would be more comfortable.” Her mother smiled.

“The strong stuff?” Sota asked, taking a seat at their circular, dining table.

“The good shit.” Miroku said.

“Where’s Sango?” Kagome asked.

“Well, she wanted to take Kohaku home and get cleaned up, herself. I invited them to stay, especially for dinner, but you know Sango. She’s as independent as ever.”

“She’s fucking hot.” Miroku murmured.

Kagome cringed and groaned, eyeing her cousin. His perverted grin was unmistakable, even from behind his forearm. “You’re on drugs. Shut up.”

“Come on, dear. I just drew up a fresh bath; you’re timing couldn’t have been more perfect.” Her mom pulled her, guiding her to the bathroom where she shut the door behind them.

Carefully, her mother helped Kagome undress, peeling the muddy clothes off of her, overly cautious not to hurt her since she wasn’t sure what state her body was in. Kagome, knowing this provided a sense of comfort for her mom - caring for her in her vulnerable state - allowed her to do as she pleased, taking things just as slowly. Truthfully, her aching muscles, now more noticeable than ever, were as grateful for it as she was.

The water was hot as she sunk into the tub, plugging her nose and dunking her head entirely. She took the rag that was offered, gently cleaning off her face and body as her mom took to washing her hair.

“Mama, I’m sorry.” Kagome softly spoke through the silence.

“Shh.”

“I didn’t -“

“Shh.” Her mother hushed her again, gently massaging her scalp with her fingers. “All that matters to me is that you’re okay. Nothing else, Kagome.”

Kagome sighed, leaning back into her mom’s touch. “I am.”

She bundled up in a towel after drying off, her long, raven hair, though still dripping, beginning to wave as it fell over the front of her shoulders. Her mother once again gently tilted her head back and forth to inspect the damage, running her thumb over her cheek. When she extended Kagome’s neck, Kagome couldn’t help but wince slightly, the swallow she’d unintentionally done at that exact moment sliding down her swollen throat uncomfortably.

“We’re lucky he didn’t crush your trachea.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Kagome whispered with a wry grimace as her mom released her to look at her hand. Kagome tried to swallow her hiss, but couldn’t stop it from sliding off her tongue, her mouth hanging open as her mother stretched out her palm to observe it closely.

“Sorry.” She breathed sympathetically. “It looks irritated. Definitely inflamed. I’ve got the salve out on the table. Let’s get you dressed so I can clean and bandage it up.”

“Are you gonna have to amputate it, doc?”

“Unfortunately, that is a possibility.”

“What?” Kagome’s expression shifted to fearful shock, studying the red cut on her hand as her mother giggled.

“I’m kidding.”

“You said it with a straight face and everything.” She whined.

Her mother merely kept her smile, her fingers finding the ends of her daughter’s hair and running them through. During the silence, she couldn’t stop herself from traveling higher, twisting the waving locks, fixing her messy bangs, and then combing her now-trembling fingers all the way through the length of her hair again. She’d realized she was fidgeting in a sense, losing her composure, but the fight was no match. Her chin quivered and her bottom lip jutted out slightly as she pulled Kagome into a tight hug and pinched her eyes shut, trying everything she could to keep the terrifying image of her daughter in that little girl’s place at bay.

“Mama? What’s wrong?” Kagome gently asked, holding her in return.

“Nothing.” She lied, though she convincingly held her tone steadier than she felt.

Kagome could feel her fear, her anguish, and the relief that they were together right now. She could understand, much like Sota’s disturbance, how difficult it must have been for her mother to witness everything that had happened today. None of it was easy for anyone, so Kagome tightened her grip, sullenly resting her chin on her mom’s shoulder.

“Sometimes, I wish you weren’t so brave.” She finally caved, openly crying, shaking into her firming hold.

It only took that one sentence to bring Kagome to crumble, herself. Her expression twisted sadly and hot tears washed to her eyes, spilling over as she hid her face in her mom’s shoulder.

“It doesn’t always feel like I need to protect you from the world, Kagome. It sometimes feels like I need to protect you from yourself. How can I do that? You’re always ready to sacrifice yourself for others, always ready to fight battles that aren’t yours when your own is hard enough. I don’t know how to save you from this. Any of this.” Her mom sobbed. “I had no choice but to stand there and watch you get hurt, and I just… I can’t do that again, Kagome. I can’t - I won’t…”

“I’m sorry.” Kagome cried, voice faltering worse than ever.

“If I could take your place, I would in a heartbeat.”

Kagome fervently shook her head against her mother’s shoulder.

“I would.” She nodded, leaning back and taking her daughter’s face in her hands. “I would be able to protect you then. You’re my little girl. You’re good, and you’re pure, and you’re feisty, and you’re strong, and you’re brave, and you’re beautiful, and you’re resilient, and you’re kind, and the world has no business hating you.” She wiped her thumbs back and forth over Kagome’s cheeks, clearing the fresh tears that streamed down her face while her bottom lip quivered.

Kagome’s mother took a deep, unsteady breath, pulling her closer to place a sweet kiss on her forehead before looking into her glossy eyes again. “I know I can’t, though.” She whispered. “And, I will never ask you to be less than what you are. So long as you stay alive. Please.”

Kagome nodded, sniffling, hardly able to see her mother’s face through her tears. She could feel the heat building, and no amount of swallowing helped, a dense lump growing in her swollen throat and air clogging in her lungs as if she’d lost the ability to properly breathe. Her fingers quaked and her muscles felt weak, her legs slowly folding to bring Kagome’s pitiful figure to the ground. Her mom followed, shushing her, pulling her close and petting her hair to provide as much comfort as possible, but nothing helped pull Kagome out of it. She was lost to the darkness in her mind, the burning in her veins, the image of the young girl still on the ground, cold, bleeding engrained behind her eyelids for her to vividly see.

“I just - I just wanted to save her, mama.” She brokenly sobbed.

“I know, baby. I know, you did.”

“She deserved to live.”

Her mother rocked her back and forth as soothingly as possible, lulling her with a gentle shush as her daughter got the pain out of her system. It tore her apart to know her daughter’s innocence could never be spared. She felt nauseous just knowing there was nothing she could do to fix it, or make it better, or heal her broken heart.

“I tried. I - I tried. I tried.” Kagome kept repeating, her brain on loop and unable to filter anymore words free. Like a broken record skipping, scratching, on its last leg before the music is shut off.

Kagome’s mother wasn’t aware of how much time had passed. Quite frankly, it was irrelevant. Her daughter was quiet now, resting her head on her thighs, her towel-draped body curled on the bathroom floor, eyes blinking drowsily as she zoned out. Every now and then, she’d see a tear escape from Kagome’s eye and glide over the bridge of her nose. Her own tears had stopped, her cheeks dry, lips tingling from the hum of the melody she continued to comfort her daughter with. She knew and accepted, as difficult as it may be, that there was no physically protecting Kagome from a thing. Not Naraku, not demons, not the world, not fate, and not herself. Kagome was a fighter, and Kagome was the light that made your day better. Kagome was an angel and a beast all in one. And, if all she could offer was her lap, her solace, her arms, and her song to bring her daughter some form of peace, then nothing in the universe could stop her from providing it.

“I am so proud of you, little bird.” She whispered, raking her fingers through Kagome’s almost-dry hair, thick and wavy and neatly pulled away from her face. “You always try to do the right thing, no matter what. Your bravery may scare me, but that’s only because I’m your mother. Your bravery also amazes me. You’ve grown from this little girl afraid of spiders to a woman still afraid of spiders that will challenge demons without so much as a second thought.”

Kagome gave a weak giggle, snuggling just a little closer to her mom. It wasn’t often that her mother used her father’s nickname for her, but when she did, it was one of the most comforting things that seemingly quieted the world around. The thunder didn’t even stand a chance. With the heavy droplets of rain spilling from the edging of their roof to splash in the puddles on the ground, the pitter-patter hitting above them to create a continuous white noise, Kagome was finally stabilizing and grounding down to actuality.

“Spiders are gross.” Kagome muttered.

“I agree.” Her mom giggled. “Eight legs is just excessive.”

Kagome groaned, muffling her laugh. “And, don’t even get me started on centipedes.”

“The worst of all multi-legged insects.”

Slowly, Kagome lifted herself off of her mom, smiling slightly as her mother continued to comb her dark locks from her face.

“Your bangs are getting a little long.” She mentioned. “Want me to spruce them up tonight?”

“Please?” Kagome asked, nodding.

She grinned, caressing her daughter’s soft cheek. “Let’s get your hand wrapped and some food in your belly first.”

Kagome finally picked herself off the floor, following her mother out of the bathroom and parting in the small hall where she insisted she was well enough to dress herself. As soon as she shut the door to her room, Kagome released a deep and dreadful sigh, resisting the loud groan that could have easily accompanied it as she braced her weight on the wood of her door. Her decision was easy to make in the moment, while she was pinned to a wall, angry, and horrified, but after watching her mother breakdown, she struggled with it now. Leaving everyone behind for an undetermined amount of time would be extremely difficult. Leaving her mama behind to hurt and worry was the worst feeling in the world.

Because, truth be told, despite the promise she’d made her younger brother, there was no telling if she’d actually succeed.

There was no telling what she’d encounter beyond her village’s limits.

There was no telling anything.

Kagome wasn’t naive. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew she had no idea what she was getting herself into, that there was no direct path to her objective, that there was no given timeframe to count on. Hell, she didn’t even know what Naraku looked like.

Overall, she knew that she knew nothing. Other than she had to try.

As heavy as the guilt weighed to upset her mother, her family, in this way, Kagome wouldn’t be able to forgive herself for not trying. It was like rolling over, belly up, surrendering to more deaths, more chaos, more abuse and oppression. It made her stomach churn and her heart race. It made her blood boil from the fire building up in her abdomen.

She wouldn’t say she didn’t care about what happened to herself, because that wasn’t true. There were plenty of reasons to tend to her well-being, and no matter how reckless she naturally was, she vowed then and there to be as careful as she could. Leaving didn’t mean she was going to parade her powers about, nor openly proclaim that she was a conjurer. She was bold, not stupid. She would be cautious, watch her step, mind her P’s and Q’s, but take no shit when it came down to it.

Fine line, thin line, grey area and all, this was the best Kagome could offer right now.

How was it possible to be so dead set and confident on a decision while second-guessing yourself? Kagome could feel these negative thoughts slithering through her mind, reminding her that she wasn’t as physically strong as Sango, and she wasn’t as clever as Miroku. Running aimlessly through a region of unknown was idiotic, and she would be lucky if she wasn’t killed within two days. The loudest voice of all told her that she would never be able to take down Naraku on her own. And, she was a fool to think otherwise.

Kagome took a deep, steady breath, sighing out even slower as she tried to ease those thoughts away. She busied herself, lighting the candle on her nightstand for some extra light and dressing in some comfortable pajamas.

“Is this what you want?” She quietly asked herself, staring at an empty bag she’d splayed on her bed. When she pictured herself putting the bag away, saying no, and walking out of the room, she felt wrong. It felt wrong. When she pictured herself packing it with some clothes and necessities that could only be saved for last minute, she felt terrified. But, it felt right. “Yes.”

So, she discreetly went about her room, collecting a few items of clothing to alternate through, especially undergarments, little things she may want along the way, like something to tie her hair back with, a brush, and the fresh box of matches in her drawer. Her bag had plenty of room leftover, which was planned, and she tucked it under her bed - next to which she placed a pair of dark pants, a green blouse, and her most comfortable, short bodice. As far as materials were concerned, Kagome was ready to go.

She stopped as her fingers gripped the handle of the door. Her decision, though right, was nerve wracking. She felt sick, scared, discouraged, and she wasn’t even on her way yet. The thoughts, the plaguing negativity, like a flashing, red light going off and distracting her from her objective, were what was deterring her strength. She needed to silence them, needed to sway them for good.

You aren’t as strong as Sango.

No. She wasn’t. That was a straight fact and there was no competition. Sango was a badass, came from a line of badasses, and lived by the motto, “kicking ass and taking names.” She was fast, though. Kagome was nimble and reacted almost as well as Sango would. She deserved credit in that area.

You aren’t as clever as Miroku.

That was only somewhat true. Miroku was sixty percent brains and forty percent brawn. Sure, he was smart. Kagome, on the other hand, was resourceful. Miroku was cunning, and Kagome was witty. Miroku could talk others into doing something, while Kagome could talk herself and others out of trouble. Together, they were a pretty good team, but they could still survive apart.

You’re going to get yourself killed. You don’t even know where you’re going.

If she was meant to do this, then she’d pull through. But, she’d rather die trying than accept life as it is. Kagome could figure this out. By no means did she believe any part of this would be easy, but she refused to believe it wasn’t possible.

You will never be able to take down Naraku on your own.

Kagome let that one sit for a moment. It wasn’t to let it eat at her, it was more to feel it out. Would she? Honestly, when she pictured it happening, the scene was a blur. Naraku was there, he just didn’t have a face or a body. Kagome could feel it though, the sensation overwhelming in her gut. She would, no doubt, meet Naraku at some point or another. The only thing was, peculiar as it may be, she wasn’t alone. Her intuition was showing her not just one, but a number of people at her side. All of them ready to end things with this horrible, wretched demon. It may be the conjurers, but something told Kagome to wait and see. So, she gripped the knob of her door a little tighter, a little more confident. The thought gradually became impertinent. She wasn’t worried about facing Naraku alone, because she wouldn’t be alone. From what she’d like to guess, to hope, far from it.

“Don’t touch it, Sota.” Kagome heard her mom say as she wandered out toward the living room.

“But, he said he couldn’t feel it.” Sota responded.

“For real, Auntie! I can’t feel a thing.” Miroku declared. “It’s like magic.”

“No, it’s like medicine. Eat your soup.”

“How much did you give him?” Kagome asked skeptically as she joined her family, side-eyeing her cousin as he smiled goofily from his spot on the couch. She was surprised to see him sitting up, and even more surprised from his apparent bleary state that he hadn’t dropped his bowl yet.

“Well, I might have given him a dash more than what’s recommended.” Her mother sheepishly replied, hiding her face as she scooped stew into a bowl with her ladle.

“A dash?”

“A pinch.”

“How much is a serving?”

“A - um - tablespoon?”

“Mama, why was that a question?”

“Mom, how much did you give him!?” Sota guffawed, leaning forward over one of the chairs at the table.

“Look, he doesn’t feel any pain, so as far as I’m concerned, I gave him enough.” She defended, cheeks a deep shade of pink.

Both Sota and Kagome failed at biting back their humor, doubling over from laughing so hard. She glanced at her cousin, her complacent, happy, clueless-looking cousin and sauntered his way.

“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?” She sweetly asked, giggling.

“Pretty good.” He nodded, grinning wider. “Definitely can’t complain. This stew is delightful.”

Kagome bit her lip, bating her breath as she turned on her heel to look at her mom. “Mama, he said ‘delightful.’”

“Yes, I heard him.”

“To die for.” Miroku dramatically added.

Kagome resisted her knee-jerk reaction to take the loosely-gripped bowl from his one-handed grip, seeing he was clutching it just tight enough to keep it from spilling. She bit down on her bottom lip harder, trying as hard as she could not to laugh as Miroku took a long and loud slurp of food off of his spoon. Behind her, she heard her little brother snort into his arm, trying to stifle himself, too.

“How you feeling? A little high?” Kagome queried.

“High? No, I’m sitting.”

She lost it then, laughing so hard she wheezed, clutching her sides and folding over again.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” Kagome’s mother sighed as she set two bowls of soup on the table. “Yes, your cousin is heavily medicated but at least he’s comfortable. Now, come eat, please.”

“Hey, mom, can I have a pinch over a serving of whatever was on his menu?” Sota asked, taking his seat and gesturing to Miroku by pointing his thumb over his shoulder behind him.

“You may not.” She said, unamused.

“It’s for science.”

“Yeah? Tell me one scientific thing you know.” She tested, her level expression holding strong.

Sota froze, mouth hanging agape as he pondered, his brown eyes drifting away from his mother as he grew nervous. “Uh, rain - rain comes from clouds.”

“Mhm, good job. Eat your food.” She dismissed. She pulled out the chair next to Kagome as she sat at the table, bringing the disinfectant, salve, cotton balls, and bandage wrappings closer. Once Kagome got situated, swallowing what remained of her laughter and pulling her bowl of stew closer, she ushered for her left hand.

“It can wait, mama.” Kagome said. “You should eat, too.”

“I would feel much better knowing this was taken care of first.”

“Then, I’ll do it myself. You don’t have to worry.” She stated sincerely, but with the slightly sad slant of her mother’s eyes, she regretted the innocent suggestion immediately.

Who was Kagome to deny her mother a simple, tender, and loving act that would most likely, in turn, provide her with a sense of comfort? As much as Kagome didn’t want to think of the circumstances of their evening, or the happenings of their day, it played a significant role in the lack of glimmer in her mom’s eyes. She couldn’t prevent the harm that Kagome endured today, but she wanted to clean up the mess.

Steadily, Kagome turned her wrist palm-up and slid it over the wood of the table toward her mother. She let her do as she pleased, once more studying the inflamed wound while Kagome minded her own and blew on the spoonful of stew in front of her mouth. She was lucky that she hadn’t choked as she gasped at the same time she’d taken a bite, hearing the sizzle from the disinfectant while her mom continued to use a generous amount on her cut.

“I hope they don’t make this sort of inspection a habit.” Her mother grumbled.

Kagome kept her mouth shut, feeling like her mom was passed the sad and disturbed stages of the incident, and had transitioned to the angry phase. Her mom wasn’t the type to outright express her frustration. It was more visible in her body language and the deeper set tone she’d carry. She often busied herself with something, like cleaning or cooking, in an attempt to either distract herself or keep from coming off harsh in any manner. It was a classic way to dissipate her anxiety so she could come out of it calm and collected. Kagome figured tending to her hand was a two-birds-one-stone sort of deal.

She swallowed the stew on her tongue, allowing the heat from the meal to glide down her throat. It was slightly painful, but simultaneously soothing. She knew it wouldn’t be a comfort like hot liquid to a sore throat would be when you’re down with a cold, but it was still mildly satisfying to feel it go down. She avoided the large chunks of meat for the time being. She knew her mom would be happier if she ate everything in her bowl, but swallowing anything more than liquid right now just wasn’t appetizing.

Kagome peeked over at her little brother, not at all surprised to find him looking back. He held a wary look in his eyes, a brow slightly cocked, and she knew it was due to the way their mother had leaned her face just inches away from Kagome’s wound, little huffs of agitation coming from her nostrils as she paid close attention to clean every little centimeter of the surface. It wasn’t big by any means. Sure, it was larger than Sango’s, but her hand, itself, was relatively small as it was, and the gash went from the center toward the side. Maybe two inches at most, and angled crookedly. There was no way into their mother’s head, but Kagome was willing to bet she was being diligent for her own peace of mind as well as the fact that Kagome had not only gotten a good helping of mud in the cut, but also another’s blood. It was important to be thorough, and Kagome wasn’t about to complain. Not with the life of her palm in her mother’s hands.

Sota made a very subtle gesture at Kagome, one that wouldn’t catch their mom’s peripheral vision. He pointed in her direction then made the “OK” sign with his fingers, asking if she was alright. Kagome responded with a tiny nod, fighting back a wince when her mom tightly wrapped up her hand from the base of her fingers to her wrist after slathering it in ointment.

“Not too tight?” Her mom inquired, giving Kagome her hand back.

“Nope. It’s perfect. Thanks, mama.”

“Does it hurt?”

“A little, but it’s bearable.”

“Okay, love.” She stood, kissing the top of Kagome’s head. “Eat as much as you can. At least some of the vegetables, please. I’ll make some tea. I want you all in bed soon.”

No one had an argument for her. Not even Sota. It was typical of him to want to stay up, but tonight, no matter what the time actually was, it felt exceptionally later. Again, Kagome found herself looking over at him, unsurprised to find him returning the stare. The end of their night also meant their goodbye. And, she could see the uneasiness in his eyes. How could she convince him that everything would be alright? How could she make him drop the obvious concern so the rest of their family wouldn’t notice and ask what was wrong? The only thing she could think to do to rest his anxiety was to smile. So, she did. Kagome gave her brother a small, reassuring grin, but all it worked to do was make his eyes fall away. Much like their mother, he busied himself to hide his emotions, bringing his bowl up to his face to drink the remainder of his broth.

The tea was like heaven, the hints of chamomile and honey the most comforting to her throat. The house had grown quiet, the tension from outside beginning to trickle in. Miroku rested his back against the arm of the couch, still seemingly pain-free. He’d only taken a couple of sips of his tea before closing his eyes and releasing an unsteady sigh, and Kagome wondered if there was a bit of discomfort he wasn’t showing, if the medicine was making him drowsy, if he couldn’t stomach anything more, or all of the above. Sota, Kagome, and their mother all continued to sit at the small table, embracing the silence. Much like she’d expected the moment the demons left their village, there wasn’t always going to be something that could be said. There wasn’t always going to be something that could make them forget, because there was no possible way to do that. What had happened - the terror, agony, heartbreak, and failure - it all was going to demand to be recognized.

The thunder had calmed momentarily, the rain still falling, though not quite as hard. And, as if the universe was working to solidly confirm that Kagome’s initial assumption was correct, a dreadful, broken, gut wrenching cry was heard from several homes over.

Kagome’s attention shot toward their door, her heart dropping into her pelvis. It was the mother of the conjurer grieving, releasing her sorrow, and Kagome could only imagine the horrible feeling of having to inhabit a house where her daughter could no longer dance around, and play, and laugh, and bring the joy a nine year-old girl naturally does.

She missed the thunder immediately. She missed her cousin’s natural instincts to lighten the mood with terribly-timed and inappropriate jokes. She missed yesterday when this misery had yet to exist.

“Oh, your bangs.” Kagome’s mom said, louder than her typically soft tone, as if to both busy herself and distract them all from listening to the crying. She decidedly spoke every word that came to mind, announcing her thoughts and letting them fumble off her tongue to keep her children’s attention as she stood from her seat and wandered about the room. “Now, where did I put those scissors? You know, when Miroku still trusted me to cut his hair, I thought it’d be a good idea to use a bowl to shape it. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking. I pictured it coming out as this neatly-tousled look since his hair naturally holds some waves, but that was certainly not the case. Miroku, you remember this, right?” She paused for his answer, turning around from the little drawer she rummaged through to find her nephew giving her this distasteful grimace.

“Do you realize we almost went fifteen years without mentioning that?” He muttered.

“Oh, hush. It wasn’t that bad.” She dismissed with a meager wave of her hand, going back to shifting about as she sought out the scissors.

“You gave him a bowl cut!?” Sota chuckled. “No wonder he doesn’t trust you to cut his hair anymore.”

“No, no, that wasn’t the kicker. Tell them, Auntie. Tell them what you did to me.” Miroku grumbled. He was groggy, his body feeling stiff and heavy as he melted further into the couch, the medicine leaving his head and flowing through the muscles of his arms, torso, hips, and legs. But, he knew what his aunt was trying to do, and this was all he could offer to contribute to the conversation and keep words flowing to help drown out the crying that haunted their town.

“I - uh - oh! Here they are!” She said brightly, presenting the scissors. “I accidentally missed.”

“Missed?” Kagome asked.

“I missed.” Her mom nodded.

“She missed.” Miroku confirmed.

“What did you miss?” Sota asked skeptically.

“The hair - his hair. I missed - I missed his hair. Um, you know how I take the strands in between my fingers and trim the ends beneath? Well, instead of that, I went above. Above my fingers. By a lot.”

“Wh- how!?” Kagome pressed.

“I was a little distracted. And, apparently, your cousin knows how to hold a grudge.”

“Well, Auntie, how about I give your hair a trim and we call it even? No pun intended.”

“Hah! How about not.”

“What were you so distracted by?” Sota asked.

“Your father. He was - uh - talking to me.”

“He was shirtless, you heathen!” Miroku shouted, his voice cracking from the emphatics.

Kagome stifled her snort, her attention landing on her mother’s reddened face, who could only give an awkward grin. She started laughing at both the embarrassment on her mom's cheeks and the fact that something like that had ruined Miroku’s hair and trust.

“Oh my god, is that why you wore that hat for, like, two months straight!?” Kagome asked, her mouth hanging agape.

“She had to even it out the best she could while both of our dad’s laughed, and let me tell you, the style did not suit me.” Miroku replied.

“I thought it was cute.” His aunt shrugged.

“Well, you would. It was your handiwork.”

“It was more that your cheeks were so round, and your head was so big, so super short hair really helped make it pop.”

“Hey! I did not have a big head!”

“Yeah, you did.” Both Kagome and her mother chimed synchronously.

“Awe, man. No fair. I don’t remember any of that stuff.” Sota groaned.

“Sorry, Sota. I think that happened when Miroku was, what? Seven?” His mom said, unsure.

“Eight.” Miroku corrected.

“Right. So, Kagome would have been five or six, and you would have just been born.”

“Actually, I think you were still pregnant with the munchkin. Explains why you were so thirsty for -“

“Ah! Okay, no! I was not thirsty, first of all! Second, how are you still so inappropriate right now? Go to sleep! Kagome, let me see your bangs.” Her mother directed, clearly flustered and ending the subject there.

Kagome couldn’t help but back her seat away as her mama approached to sit beside her, the wooden chair legs scraping against the wooden floor. “I’m gonna have to ask you to calm down first, thank you very much. Considering how easily distracted you’ve been proven to be, I’m not sure this is such a good idea with your current state.”

“Fine. Sota, would you do the honors?” Her mother sarcastically asked, sliding the scissors across the table.

“Gladly.” He grinned.

“Wait! No! Why would he do it!? Why would your first suggestion be to hand the scissors to him!?”

“Would you like me to trim your bangs?” Her mother cocked a brow, a slightly proud smile curving her lips.

“Yes, please.” Kagome grumbled in defeat, scooting her chair back to where it was and presenting the hair at the front of her brow.

“That’s what I thought.” Her mom giggled, taking the scissors back from her son and kissing Kagome’s forehead. “Sota, go hop in the bath, please. I want you clean and warm before bed.”

He nodded, rising from his seat, and as he went to walk by, she stopped him, pulled him down by his arms, and planted a sweet kiss to his head, as well.

Steadily, she spruced up Kagome’s bangs, even going so far as to shorten up the little layers she’d given her a while ago at the sides of her face to frame her jaw. Her daughter was serene beneath her touch, fully trusting, and she thanked the tea and the loudening rain for soothing Kagome’s nerves from what they were in the bathroom.

The crying from the mourning mother was, once again, drowned out for the most part. Now and again she could be heard, and quite frankly, she felt the mother should be heard. She should be heard all over the country, the world, and her cries should echo in the ears of the demons who had the gall to take her baby from her. Her wailing should be the only thing they’re sentenced to listen to for the rest of their days, and if they have ever done this to another, all those mothers should play over each other. Like an infinite ringing of misery for only the assailants to hear. She could imagine their prideful smiles at first, but like anybody else, they would eventually fall to their knees and beg for the agony to end.

They had the audacity to call humans selfish. Humans, at least, had hearts.

“There. All done.” She grinned, placing the scissors on the table and dusting the trimmings of dark hair from Kagome’s shirt. Gently, she cupped her daughter’s cheeks, staring into her big, brown eyes for a moment before leaning forward and kissing her forehead again. “Let’s get Miroku into bed.”

“Don’t worry about it, mama. I’ll get him. I can handle it.” Kagome said, turning around to glimpse at her resting cousin.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Alright. I’ll make him a little mixture that’ll help him sleep through the night. I’ll be in the room in a moment.”

Kagome stood from her seat, sauntering over to the couch were she softly rubbed her fingers over Miroku’s sternum. He didn’t move, so she tried again, whispering his name. When he didn’t rouse that time, she tapped his collarbone, knowing, for whatever reason, that he hated being touched there. Miroku cringed, like a shiver was running down his spine, and squished his shoulder up closer to his ear to stop the weird sensation.

“Hm?” He grumbled.

“Come on, time for bed.” Kagome continued to whisper.

“Why can’t you ever wake me up a normal way?” He asked as he very slowly began to sit up, his voice raspy.

“Because, I don’t want to.” She replied simply, noticing his slight flinch. “Are you in pain?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Too late.”

“It’s not that bad. It comes and goes because of the medicine.”

“All depending on your positioning, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Alright, let me help.” Kagome extended her hand to him, and when he took it, she gripped it tight, pulling it closer to her chest for stability, and firmly grasped his elbow with her other. “Ready?”

He nodded, taking a deep breath and holding it in as he pushed his legs to stand and she yanked him up the rest of the way. It was all he could do to swallow the gasp of pain his throat went to release by reaction, only allowing an airy hiss to glide from his lips. He wrapped his arm over Kagome’s shoulders once his feet got situated beneath him, knowing she could handle the weight he braced on her. His muscles just weren’t working with him - whether it be due to discomfort or just a lack of mobility. He blamed the medicine for the latter. He felt lightheaded as soon as he was vertical and had to really take a moment to shut his eyes and gain his bearings. His cousin was patient though, standing still, holding him up with only minor swaying, and waiting for him to initiate the walk forward.

With only a few stumbles here and there, Kagome managed to get Miroku into his and Sota’s shared room in one piece, slowly and carefully lowering him onto his bed at the far end. She helped him get situated beneath the covers, making sure he was comfortable as he allowed his body to sink into his mattress.

“Mama’s gonna come in with more medicine for you.” She said softly. “Bet you miss your high now, huh?”

“It was short-lived, I’ll admit.” He chuckled.

She giggled in return, taking a moment to find the matches and light a candle in the corner of the room for just a little extra light.

“Hey,” Miroku spoke. “Come here.”

“I wasn’t leaving yet.” She mentioned, shaking the fire of her match out, setting it in the trash, and walking back over to him. Cautiously, Kagome sat on the edge of the bed beside him, giving a meager smile.

“How are you?” He asked with sincerity, and it was clear he was referring to what had happened earlier that day.

“Don’t ask.” She said.

“Too late.” He bounced her own reply off of her.

Kagome couldn’t find it in her to give an answer to that question. She felt an immense amount of guilt for everything going through her head, for her decision to head out on her own, and especially for the beating he’d taken earlier. He was down for the count, while she was the one who’d gotten him into that trouble. Yet, she was perfectly fine, walking around, with only a soreness in and on her neck and a throbbing headache that would, no doubt, go away quicker than the ache in his ribs.

“Are they broken?” She asked, avoiding his own question.

“Don’t know. I don’t think so, but we gotta wait for the doc to determine whether they are or not.”

Kagome nodded in acknowledgment, bowing her head and eyes for a small moment before looking back into his dark blue irises. “I’m sorry.”

“I knew that was coming.” Miroku chuckled. “Shut up. You know I don’t blame you.”

“It’s my fault.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah.” She shakily replied.

“So, you were the one who kicked me repeatedly?”

Kagome winced at the visual.

“You were the one who ordered the demons to attack me?”

“Miroku -“

“You were the one -“

“I get it. No.” She interjected, stopping him from taking her mind back to the scene.

“But, it was because you ran out in the first place that the whole thing happened, right? That what you were gonna say? And, also because you mentioned Kikyo, which was how the whole thing escalated so drastically?”

“Is it wrong?”

“Yes and no.” He stated with a shrug of his brow. “I mean, would I have gotten my ass kicked if you’d stayed in line? Maybe not. But, that’s much worse, in my opinion. That means we all would have just stood by and watched. It’s almost as bad as the culprits if you think about it. And, you mentioning Kikyo isn’t that out of pocket. I probably would have done the same thing if I were in your shoes. Saying something like that, as impulsive as it may have been, and as dangerous as it had proven to be, doesn’t put you in the wrong. You had solid and good intentions. You didn’t expect anything that had happened today, so get your head out of the toxic mindset that I know it’s sitting in. Focus on what I’m saying, okay? I ran in to try to get him off of you because you’re my family. I’m going to protect you the best that I can. Not once did I think, ‘Oh man, there goes Kagome, getting herself into trouble again.’ My thought process was, and still stands, that they had no fucking right to touch you. The only thing going through my head was to make sure he didn’t kill you. And, I took an ass whooping because I wasn’t strong enough to handle them. Apparently, brute strength isn’t my forte.”

Kagome couldn’t stop her little laugh from escaping. She shook her head, her little grin remaining as she bowed down to rest on her cousin’s chest, not quite placing much of her weight on him.

“You know damn well that if I felt something was your fault, I’d tell you. Bluntly.” Miroku mentioned, rubbing her arm.

“I know.” She giggled again. “But, I still feel bad.”

“Well, stop.”

“On it.” She grunted sarcastically. As if it were that easy.

“One more thing, and this is the most important part, okay?”

“What?” Kagome asked into his chest, feeling it was safe enough to place a little more weight on him when he hugged her, pulling her closer so he could whisper in her ear.

“Not a single one of us knew there was another conjurer nearby. Don’t you dare begin to think that there was anything you could have done to prevent her death.”

Slowly, very slowly, Kagome pushed herself to sit up. It probably wasn’t the hardest thing to do to guess one of the most plaguing thoughts on her mind - she really wasn’t a difficult person to read - but it was still a thing Miroku could easily point out, even in the most difficult of moments.

“You and your frankness.” She sighed.

“You’re gonna be fine, Kagome.” He reassured her, noticing the way her brown eyes couldn’t meet his. “We all are. This won’t last forever.”

Kagome nodded, not able to respond before her mother came in with his next serving of medicine. She used the moment to lighten the mood a little, giving her cousin a side glance.

“Have fun in your coma.”

“Ha - haha - ha. So funny.” He remarked, cringing at the ill-tasting mixture of ground herbs coming his way.

She wished him goodnight then slipped out of the room, sauntering to her own and getting comfortable on her bed. It wasn’t too long before her mom came in to turn things down and make sure she was comfortable. Kagome had to put valiant effort into not making her emotions obvious when she was hugged close. She had to remind herself not to hold on for longer than normal, or cling tighter, or become the least bit shaky, knowing this was the last time she’d see her for a while.

If not the last time ever.

Kagome took a steadying breath, forcing that negative thought from her mind, and when her mama looked at her, she was as composed as ever. Those bad thoughts had no place seeping through. If she was going to do this, which she was, she was going to have to be as strong as possible.

“Goodnight, Kagome. I love you.”

“Love you too, mama.” She smiled, enjoying her warm touch before she left the room, leaving the door cracked.

It was only moments later that a small knock on her door greeted her, bringing her attention back over as her younger brother snuck through, quietly closing it all the way.

“Hey.” Sota whispered, seeming uncertain where he lingered. Kagome knew what he’d shown up for though, so she crawled out of bed. It’s almost like her welcome served as his initiative, and he moved forward, somewhat hurriedly, meeting her halfway and colliding straight into a hug.

His arms wrapped firmly around her sides, fingers gripping into the back of her shirt as his cheek pushed uncomfortably into the bone of her shoulder. He didn’t care. Sota only pulled his sister closer, unable to take a full breath from the frazzled nerves that kept him from letting her go just yet.

“Come back.”

“I will.” Kagome responded softly.

“Be safe.”

“You, too.”

Sota somehow managed to pull her even closer, holding her as tight as his arms would allow. “I mean it, Kagome. I know you can do it. So, prove it.”

Kagome appreciated the challenge. He knew it was something that got her heart sparking and the gears in her mind turning to find solutions.

He felt the nod she gave, her own arms matching his fervor as they wrapped snuggly around his shoulders. “And, you’re sure there’s no way I can talk you out of this?”

Kagome giggled lightly, shaking her head. “Come on, you’re really gonna say that after giving me encouragement?”

Sota chuckled, himself. “Worth a shot.” He said, finally releasing his sister and taking a step back. “Do you have everything you’ll need?”

“I think so. I should be good.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Isn’t that the question of the century.” She stated more than asked, the sarcasm clear on her tongue. Broadening her shoulders, Kagome leveled her expression, her brown eyes locking with Sota’s. “Look, I need you to do some things while I’m gone. You’re going to have to be strong. Don’t worry about having to be strong enough for the both of us in my absence; I don’t want that pressure on your shoulders. But, you’ll still need to amp it up a bit, buddy. Keep mama safe, and help Miroku with the heavy duty stuff - he won’t be able to lift things for a while. Things are going to be tense when they find out I’m gone, so expect a spike in stress levels, okay?”

“Okay.” He gave a curt nod.

“Help mama. I know this is going to be hard on her. Tell her I love her. Please.”

“I will.”

“When and if Naraku’s men come back, whatever you do, do not bring attention to the fact that I’m missing. Hopefully, they won’t even notice, but I made the mistake of standing out today so there is a possibility. If they do happen to notice, make something up. Tell them I’m out at the market or something. You know the drill. And, lastly, I need you to take care of yourself. You can’t help if you’re sick or hurt. Mama would be devastated if anything happened to you, and I’m not going to be around to protect you. So, here’s your first lesson in fighting: prioritize your safety and wellbeing. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” Sota appeared to have stood up taller as he said that, nodding again as his brows twitched with determination. “What about Miroku?”

“He can’t do much in his current condition. Hopefully, he’ll be back on his feet soon, but as of right now, he’s out. We’re covered with wood and food for a while, and Sango and Kohaku will be more than happy to help out - and most likely will without even being asked - but that still means you’ll have to compensate here and there. When it comes to Naraku’s men, he can take care of himself, but he can’t step in for anyone at the moment. Just - I don’t know - do whatever you feel is the smartest thing depending on the situation. You’re pretty clever, so I have faith in you. I’m assuming once Miroku’s back to normal, or close enough, he’ll be on my tail.”

“I figured that, too. Good luck whenever that happens.”

Kagome let out an overwhelmed snicker. “Thanks. I’ll need it.”

“Anything else?” He asked, seemingly taking mental notes on everything she tasked him with.

Kagome took a moment to rack her brain, unable to come up with something off the top of her head. She kept opening her mouth to say something, her tongue clicking, but she’d stop herself every time because she’d realized she’d only be repeating herself. Resolutely, she shook her head.

“Right. Well, I’ve got things covered here, sis. You don’t have to worry about it. Just focus on your goal.”

“Big words.” Kagome grinned, admiring her younger sibling. “I’m not worried about a thing. I trust you.” She saw his shoulders widen at the confidence she presented him with, observing how his smile was one of pride. “Remember what I said, okay? This is officially your first bit of training.”

“Right.”

“Good. Now, go back to bed. Mama’s still awake, and she might notice you’re up soon.” Kagome said, ruffling her brother’s hair.

“Okay. I guess this is goodbye.” There was a slight waver in his lips, in his tone.

“No.” Kagome gave a scrunch of her nose. “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya.” He mouthed, the whisper of his tongue hardly notable. Sota gave her one last glance before slipping from her bedroom, shutting the door on his way out.

Kagome listened to the rain with as much contentment as was possible in the anticipating moment, the thunder never returning from it’s earlier pause. She felt they were on the latter half of the storm that would soon calm and clear away, and figured it would only be another couple of hours before she could slip out and begin her unnerving adventure. Laying her head against her pillow, she got comfortable, eyes on the dancing flame of her candle as she busied her efforts to keep the nervous thoughts at bay. She wondered where she was meant to go and what, exactly, she was meant to do out there. What did Kikyo mean by this being their responsibility? Were other conjurers actually in the mix? Would she meet them soon after leaving here? Or, was she bound to be alone until joining the group immediately before their fight with Naraku? Additionally, how soon was that fight going to be? Tomorrow? Next week? Months from now? Sometimes, Kagome felt that not knowing the answers was the worst form of lack of control to exist.

But, then the earlier thought returned to her mind. What if there were no other conjurers? It didn’t mean that there were no other surviving conjurers out there, it was more like she was the only conjurer Kikyo was in communication with. Was that the case? For some horrible reason, Kagome had the gut wrenching feeling that it was true. When Kikyo said “ours,” she meant Kagome and herself. It didn’t make sense, though. Why? What about Kagome attracted Kikyo’s undivided attention?

It was an idea that Kagome told herself over and over to put to rest. There was no use in figuring out someone else’s thought process. There was no use fighting for control over something she didn’t even know how to gain control over. There was only flowing with the process, trusting it, and figuring things out along the way. What was stronger than the gut feeling that she may potentially be the only conjurer Kikyo was referring to, was that things would eventually sort themselves out. Things would be okay. She just had to take it all one step at a time.

As soon as she’d closed her eyes, Kagome found herself at the base of the tree line at the back of their house. It was dark, barely drizzling, the mud beneath her feet more of a liquid than a clumpy mess of wet dirt. She was dressed in what she wore earlier that day, her hand bleeding, dripping of her own and the child’s blood. Her cheek still stung from the slap she’d received from that monster, her throat aching with the reminder of each finger he’d wrapped around her neck, and her head a confused and clustered mess of unsorted thoughts. She was soaked through, shivering from the anxiety and the cold, and when she looked through the break in the trees, as dark as it was, she saw a woman’s figure looking back at her. She stood beside the rope ladder that led to the treehouse Kagome and Sota’s father had built for them, her fingers hooking around the rope to make it swing.

Kagome blinked profusely, trying to make her eyes adjust faster to the lack of light, trying to make her eyes focus on each detail of the woman several feet away from her. She had skin as light as pearl, the curves of someone a little more mature than she, eyes that were too dark to catch a shred of a glimmer but still, somehow, held the evidence of someone who’d seen too much for her age. Her hair, long, ebony, straight, hanging loosely over her shoulders and down to her hips was the dead giveaway. Kikyo. It was Kikyo.

“You.” Kagome breathed.

“Wake up.” Kikyo said, walking closer. She was dressed in perfectly-fitted pants, a tucked and loose blouse - so loose, it looked like she may have taken a man’s shirt and made it her own - and leather boots that met her knees. Over her shoulder sat a leather quiver filled with arrows, a bow strapped right next to it.

“What?”

“It’s time to go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“Kagome, stop asking questions.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course, I do. I know plenty about you and what you offer; you should know that by now. Now, I need you to listen to me very carefully.”

Kagome held her breath, waiting for the words this powerful conjurer was about to say. Her stomach twisted and knotted, her lip trembled with nerves she couldn’t fight, and all aching in the rest of her body went silent. This was surreal. It was the clearest she’d ever seen Kikyo. It was the loudest she’d ever heard her. This wasn’t a pre-recorded memo delivered to her unconscious state; Kagome actually felt like she was living out this moment.

“It’s time to go.”

Kikyo stood at the edge of the tree line. At the edge of the forest. Her dark eyes locked with Kagome’s, not a single thing about her unsteady, unsure, or fragmented.

Her lips parted once more, her tone more demanding and direct. “Wake up. It’s time to go.”

Kagome gasped, eyes shooting open as she stared at the weakened fire of the candle she’d never blown out. Had she fallen asleep? For how long?

She listened carefully, taking in her surroundings. There was barely any sound of rain, the house was painfully quiet, and the world outside seemed at peace. Still, her mind was loud, energetic, alive with Kikyo’s statement. It was time to go.

Kagome got out of bed, lowering to her knees to reach beneath and pull her things forward. Hastily, she dressed in her chosen outfit, tying her bodice securely and then shoving her feet into the boots beside her closet to pull up and sit snugly mid-calf. In her little mirror, she fixed up her face and ran her fingers through her hair, feeling as satisfied as one could feel in a spontaneous moment to leave.

And, it needed to remain spontaneous. Kagome couldn’t allow herself a moment to look back at the room, the house, and bask in the nostalgia and happy memories. If she did, the doubt would only have a crack to seep back through. Kagome couldn’t allow herself a moment to wish her family well and say goodbye. Spontaneous meant now, and now it was. It was time to go.

Silently, Kagome pushed her window open after strapping her bag over her shoulder. The air was nippy and she wished she’d thought to grab her cloak, but it hung in the entryway of their home. There was no easy or worthwhile way to grab it. She’d be fine. It wasn’t winter, so no matter what, she wouldn’t freeze to death. Kagome climbed over and out, hanging onto the windowsill until she knew her feet would meet the ground without slipping from beneath her.

It was like the action of leaving simultaneously stole the breath from her lungs and gave her vigor. It was terrifying and happening, but nothing was stopping her right now. She kept her sloshing footsteps as quiet as she could, making her way around the siding of their home and toward the back where she’d seen Kikyo.

She wasn’t there. Kagome wasn’t all that surprised, but the dream had seemed so vivid. It was like the conjurer had literally stood just feet away a mere moment ago, and yet the gap in the trees remained as empty as ever. Still, Kagome pushed herself to follow through, resisting the fluttering sensation in her chest to turn around one last time. To give a mental goodbye. She couldn’t.

Somehow, walking through the forest line felt like she was walking through a barrier of sorts. She’d traveled through numerous times, but this time was different. It was like passing through a wall, the boundary holding everything back but her, signifying the beginning of whatever Kagome was bound to face.

She walked up the little path, her eyes still wandering about, looking for Kikyo. When she’d caught something moving to the left in front of her, her attention snapped that way immediately, surprised with the sight of the rope ladder gently swaying. There was no wind to be had, the drizzle of the ending storm barely making it through the treetops to freckle Kagome’s cheeks.

“Kikyo?” She asked, her voice still raspy from the damage she’d taken - and, she figured it would remain that way for a few days at the very least.

No answer.

“Kikyo, are you there?” Kagome tried again, approaching the ladder and grabbing it to stop the rhythm.

Silence.

“Where do I go?” But, as soon as the question had left her tongue, she felt in her core that she knew the answer. She had a plan to head to the cave they’d always trained at on the far outskirts of the village. That’s where they’d hidden their supplies for the day they’d eventually leave. That’s where her bow and arrows were.

Kagome headed that way, her pace quick. There was no way in hell she was about to be alone in the dark, traveling the woodlands without a weapon to keep her safe. The entire way there, and especially as she got closer, she kept her senses alert. If there were demons around, she needed to be careful. Thankfully, she felt absolutely nothing in the air. She was safe. So, she ran through the entrance of the cave, traveling toward a nook, and pulling out the bag.

She found herself mentally apologizing to Miroku and Sango for, what felt like, thievery. Hopefully, if they ever decided to come after her - which was a terrifying thought, because she couldn’t imagine her cousin going easy on her when they caught up - they’d think ahead to restock. She could imagine them being impulsive, grabbing the items, and heading off without realizing she’d taken some important things, but knowing Miroku, as smart as he was capable of being, he’d realize Kagome wouldn’t walk out empty-handed.

The medical supplies were on the top of her list, so she fished them out and transferred the kit into the bag she planned to carry. Then some dried food they’d recently collected, because she really wasn’t the best hunter. She could catch fish pretty well, but when it came to land animals, for some reason, it was a completely different story. The half-full water canteen was next, and she went ahead and took a sip of it before sliding the bottle to sit at the side of her bag. Kagome shoved her hand to the very bottom of the sack, wriggling her fingers to find the handle to something that must have gotten buried beneath everything else by accident. When she felt the cold end of the metal butt, she grasped for it, pulling free the small hunting knife that used to belong to her father.

It was something he’d always carried on him, something he’d purchased before she was even born, and when his ashes were buried, she’d not-so-subtly stolen the knife away so it wasn’t taken with him. She slipped the sheathed blade into the side of her boot, moving her leg around so it fit comfortably in between.

There was a pocket on the inside of the bag, and she reached in, pulling out a pouch of money they’d raised together doing little side jobs around the area and even outside of town. That one she felt the worst for taking, but there was no way she could do this without something to fall back on. It was for emergencies, and she would be frugal. Once Kagome had grabbed all that she’d come for, she walked to the opposite side of the cave. Behind a large rock, safe and tucked away from plain view, sat Sango’s sword, Miroku’s staff, and Kagome’s own bow and quiver of arrows. She carefully made sure the other weapons didn’t fall as she pulled hers free, adjusting the quiver and bow to sit securely over her shoulder.

Feeling confident that she had all that she needed, Kagome headed out. Without stopping to figure out a direction, she let her feet and gut lead the way, careful of her footing over rocks until she met the muddy path that guided her deep into the forest. It was still pitch black out, the moon hidden behind thick clouds that once roared over their village. Kagome couldn’t move as fast as she wanted at the moment, her eyes refusing to completely adjust, and therefore having to mind what she walked over carefully.

She walked until light began to show over the distant mountains, a very patchy, blue and grey glow greeting the new day. It had been hours and Kagome was fatigued, willing to bet she’d only dozed off for a short amount of time before she left her home. The morning smelled of dew, the clouds above her were thinning, little sections beginning to break away for the first time in several days.

The ground wasn’t as wet here, having apparently managed to travel far enough away from the center of the storm. Her heels didn’t sink into the earth, and the air didn’t smell of rain. Hadn’t in miles. She felt no demonic or dangerous forces around, didn’t hear the wake up call of the animals, and knew she was safe and alone.

The mere thought of wandering further at the moment was exhausting. She’d gotten far enough away from her town, and didn’t recognize a single thing around her. So, she located a small clearing a little ways off of her path, one that seemed dry and cozy enough - relatively speaking, of course. She gathered wood and kindling that wasn’t wet, which was a feat on it’s own; she was ready to give up before she found enough to start a little fire for warmth. And, as Kagome got it going, bathing in the heat it provided as it grew to a moderate size, she leaned back against a tree, snuggling up to herself. Honestly, she’d meant to stay awake. Her intentions were merely to rest until she could gather enough energy to continue on and find an inn of some sort far off. Evidently, her eyes had a plan of their own; a more domineering plan. They grew heavy, they stung with weariness, and they closed of their own accord, dragging Kagome to sleep.

—

Boots clapped against the ground, amber eyes, illuminated and daring, locked on their target. He smiled crookedly, tongue gliding over his fang while he shrugged his brows. His silver hair, held back in a high ponytail, swayed to the side as the hanyou cocked his head slightly, his sword braced over his shoulder.

“Why’d you run?” Inuyasha asked.

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#monster #inuyasha #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #inukag fanfiction #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #miroku #sango #mirsan #my writing #akitokihojo

[thattimdrakeguy]

I just read Tim’s Robin miniseries (the one with King Snake) and I really think it’s one of my favourite comic stories. You really get the sense that Tim’s still a kid, pretty sheltered, who just wants to help wherever he can. He’s pretty heroic and even though he does have a bit of a temper/vengeful side (eg that part with Lynx at the end), ultimately tries to do his best to stick to his morals. He’s a boy who wants to do what‘s right. I liked his skill with the sling, wish it was used more. 1/

Also the flute-staff was pretty cool. I liked Clyde and I wish he wasn’t killed cause he could have been developed as a stronger foil to Bruce. The seeds are there, with his emphasis on vengeance for his deceased loved ones and his and Tim’s first meeting beginning with Tim trying to protect him. The parts where Tim tries to act as Clyde’s doctor was pretty cute. While hacking into Clyde’s files was an invasion of privacy, I get the feeling Bruce would have done the same, with less regrets. 2/

I liked the dynamic between Clyde, Tim and Shiva, with Clyde as the reluctant but protective dad, Tim as the tiny eager hacker child and Shiva as... the no-nonsense, scary aunt? (Idk really) Anyways I wish we could’ve had more. I think this is one of Tim’s stronger stories because it defines him as a character: clever, brave, persevering and taking the initiative to save others. He’s young, but he holds himself to a very high standard of responsibility and that’s what I love about him. 3/

Thanks for listening to me rant about Tim! I hope you feel better soon and things improve. You’re one of the few blogs I follow and trust. I understand if you need to take some time off tumblr. Please treat yourself well and remember that you are important and people care about you <3 Stay safe! 4/4

I honestly think it’s a near perfect miniseries. Because Tim just feels like the perfect protagonist when you can understand him. He has understandable motives, strengths and flaws that you can admire, relate too, or at the least understand. They make him someone you wanna follow on the journey because they made him such an interesting perspective for the story.

Like it’s the story that helped made Tim a solo star because it was able to make him such a good character on his own that he didn’t always need Batman always right beside him to be interesting.

Something about Tim just elevates the story so much compared if they just had Dick interact with the same characters or Batman himself. Like it’s a Tim story, that had to have Tim in it for it to be a good story. It’s his character, as himself, that makes it great.

The part were Tim looks like he’s about to smack Lynx to me I think kind of solifides Tim, because he ends up just having this moment of a click, where he just realizes being like that is no good. Like his first adventure stressed him out so much during the whole thing, doing his best to be Mister Mature, when he’s just this small, insecure, kid, but in the end he still chooses to do the right thing.

Cause Tim always had good morals, but I don’t know, it’s that moment specifically that cements Tim in his lessons he learned about the story. Vengeance won’t solve anything. Which goes alongside the Clyde story being the same thing. Which is a nice, surprisingly mature moral for a story about a small kid.

Everything just comes together in the end for that moral, and it’s unexpected for what it starts as, but it works really well, and I think it’s the perfect one for Tim’s first story.

Clyde, as much as he wants to protect the kid, is still wanting vengeance.

Tim’s still so young and naïve, has no street smarts like he openly admits, he’s very sheltered, he still thinks in this black and white good and bad way.

Lady Shiva wants Tim to go dark and join her in her ways, but Tim says no, and even when he gets close he still backs away because it all sets in what he learned.

It’s a story that feels like he has so much more weight then most stories, because they all put together in a natural way. It isn’t forced together. It’s the natural result of the characters coming together with the plot at hand. Which is how great stories happen. And it just came together.

Tim’s a full character in the story. Like it builds the base for a lot of great stuff to come. I think his current writers need to remember how Tim is wired, or else he’s never going to have a great story again. People act like their ship coming true will change everything, but it will fucking not. It’s Tim as a character, and writers not understanding him causing the problems.

The best stories come from an actually good understanding of the character.

The reason why Tynion’s stories failed so much to me, is because it seemed like he did know a lot about the character, could tell you a lot about his past, but he just couldn’t actually replicate for himself what worked for Tim. He just put stickers on him that resembled the past, but wasn’t actually Tim himself.

And it causes all the difference in the world with his stories.

Tim’s first solo story, is light hearted for the most part, but also so mature despite it’s young, immature, sheltered main character. The side characters also just make it so much more. Every part of the machine makes the story better and better. Nothing feels lacking besides King Snake being pretty cheesy and not very complex. But besides that. it just stands very tall to me.

I can reread it all the time and still really love it.

The final issue was heart wrenchingly grim. There’s no sweet ending for Tim. There’s no happy happy. It doesn’t even end on a happy final page. They could’ve made Tim a total joke like so many other child or teen super heroes. So many lack any real complexities and have to stand on tropes done so many times before. But they made Tim’s first story so mature. Which I think really helped him. He could go from taking down Barney the Dinosaur knock-off robbers, or going to Ninja Camp, to carrying the dead bodies of his latest friends on his back despite his own busted rib, or dealing with the sorrow of having a kid die on him before he could get him treated.

He’s complex enough to make both work without a blink. And it’s another thing that makes him wonderful. It doesn’t break his character to do both. Both work without having to suddenly change him.

It makes Tim great. And I think this story is a lot to thank for it. It solidified that for him.

It made him a success, before they stopped knowing what made him work.

The sling was really cool to me too.

#Tim Drake #Robin #Bat-Family #Batfamily #Batman #DC Comics

[greywindys]

...who do you think has more chemistry in romantic sense with Bakugo? Midoriya or Kirishima?

Ooooo dangerous territory, anon. I say this because you're referencing, at least to my current knowledge, the two most popular Bakugou ships, and afaik, the communities are not on good terms lmao. I don't think anyone on this blog is that intense or even really cares, but in case someone does, I want to say that I come in peace. I just like talking about the potential dynamics between characters I like while I wait intently for chapter spoilers. These impressions are also subject to change because I'm still learning.

Okay, so the tl;dr is: It's a tie. The reader's preference is the tiebreaker.

Kirishima and Bakugou: Their dynamic, to me, is almost the perfect recreation of "the main character and their best friend who was there all along" that you see in a lot of early 2000s teen comedy movies. Idk if this is a hot take, but Kiri was Bakugou's first real friend. Like, I'm open to debate, but I feel like that's an objective fact. He's similar to Midoriya in that he holds a lot of admiration for Bakugou, but unlike Midoriya, he doesn't idolize him to the point of putting him up on a pedestal. He actually, iirc, doesn't like Bakugou very much at first, but we see him get to know and care about Bakugou as a person - not as a rival or a personal symbol of victory or subject to analyze/copy - over the course of the series.

And in response, Bakugou embraces him as a friend (wow, imagine that, you take the time to get to know someone, and not their reputation or your imagined version of them, and they like you!). Kiri's the only person he trusts enough to accept help from and spend time with outside of class (hiking, studying etc). And, ik I've said this before, but that's pretty significant for a character like Bakugou. My impression of Kiri is that he's honest, fearless and has a sensitive soul. And I think Bakugou respects that. This leans a little fanon, but I imagine he's had a lot of experience with people who give him disingenuous compliments with ulterior motives over the course of his life, so meeting Kiri, someone who's so open and patient with him, must have been a breath of fresh air. They are good for each other!

Unfortunately, from the Hori interviews I've read and seen referenced, their friendship was meant to be a stepping stone to get Bakugou closer to the class, specifically Midoriya. That bums me out a little because I think their dynamic comes so naturally, and it's so wholesome. Bakugou is a lot less stressed with Kiri, though their relationship isn't perfect, but it's mostly typical relationship troubles (communication, insecurity on Kiri's end, insensitivity on Bakugou's end). I have my fingers crossed that they'll interact more in upcoming chapter since they're at Kamino currently, but I'm not getting my hopes up since well...see the first sentence of this paragraph.

Midoriya and Bakugou: Ahh yes. The turbulent one...which is weird to say considering how wholesome Midoriya seems to be on his own lol. But that's what's so compelling about their dynamic - you start reading and get a superficial impression of what they are, but the further into the series you get and the more you think about it, the more you realize how complicate it really is. And actually, Midoriya isn't much of a cinnamon roll at all.

Like 2Doc, there are varying levels obsession and codependency here. Midoriya's low self-esteem compounded with his idolization of heroes and hero society contributes significantly to how he views and interacts with Bakugou. I feel like he's already thinking of Bakugou as a pro-hero as far back as in middle school, and treats him as such - someone he wishes he could be like but also wants to beat, but also someone he wants respect and friendship from. In turn, Bakugou responds harshly, not only because he can't quite figure out what the hell Midoriya truly wants, but also because he recognizes his selflessness and determination to save others very early on in their lives. He recognizes that Midoriya has qualities that make a good hero, qualities that he also lacks (initially). Midoriya's selflessness scares him, and I think he admits that out loud somewhere before the war arc (and oddly enough, we're seeing that perhaps he had a good reason to be scared in the current chapters...but that's a different discussion). As as result they start off in this volatile relationship where they don't understand each other, but can't get away from one another.

That being said, this story is about them and they are both very important to one another. That's indisputable, imo. You'll see different takes as to whether or not the build up to their impending reconciliation was well-executed. I'm of the opinion that overall, it was. Despite the odd ways he's expressed it, it's clear Midoriya has always cared about Bakugou and that he would do pretty much anything for him, and Bakugou over time, has realized how he misinterpreted Midoriya's attempts at friendship when they were younger and is trying to give him a chance to be a friend. There's no room to go over it all here, but they've been learning from each other over the entirety of the story, and will continue to learn from one another until the bitter end lol. Currently, their roles are essentially reversed, and we see Bakugou repeating lessons Midoriya used to try to teach him, back at him. That's some nice character development an angst right there. Bakugou is exponentially more stressed with Midoriya, but the feelings are also more intense, there's more drama...I'm still low-key hoping they fight again. Heh.

#asks. #Anonymous #long post / #thank you for enabling me lmao

[callmegremlin]

Soulmate AU

I was inspired by the Soulmate Nickname mark AU originally by @chatalyst and couldnt help but write something for the love square.

~~~

Marinette had spent her whole life with the cursive script behind her right ear ‘Bugaboo.’ It was cute, she supposed. For most of her life she didn’t understand why anybody would give her that nickname; but she’d seen people with worse nicknames in more obvious places. Hers was at least discrete, most people didn’t even know it was there unless they saw her from a certain angle. She appreciated the subtly of her soul mark’s placement the most, specifically now that she’d gotten the ladybug miraculous. Once she’d began saving Paris and became the hero known as Ladybug, she had understood as to where her nickname came from. But the idea that her nickname would have to do with her secret identity made her stomach twist in knots, whoever her soulmate was would know she was Ladybug. She hoped maybe they’d only know her as Ladybug, at least until Hawkmoth was dealt with. But a part of her did worry they’d also know her real identity.

Adrien, just as Marinette and everyone else, had a soul mark as well. His was small cursive script around his right ring finger saying ‘kitty.’ It wasn’t an absurd nickname, he’d grown fond of the idea of being called kitty by his soul mate. And once he’d gotten his miraculous, the nickname made much more sense to him. Though part of him did worry on the ties his soul mate had to his secret identity, he was more excited at the premise of the freedom being Chat Noir gave him. He was also grateful for the fact the ring made it easier to hide his soul mark, covering it nearly perfectly. He at least didn’t have to worry about someone seeing it and trying to make a connection between the mark and his super hero self.

For the most part neither of the teens worried about their soul mate though. Both being too busy catching akumas’, doing well in school, and trying not to look a fool in front of their crushes. Neither particularly cared to find their soul mate either, but thanks to luck and fate the nicknames practically smacked them both in the face one day during patrol.

“This night is purrfect, don’t you think, Bugaboo?” Chat Noir purred, a satisfied smirk on his face; green eyes practically glowing in the moonlight as he bowed in front of her, taking her hand and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it as he looked up towards Ladybug. Marinette stiffened at the nickname, her stomach twisting into knots as her face became a light pink,

“D-Don’t call me that.” She said nervously, pulling her hand back and rolling her shoulders in an attempt to shake off the feeling that had settled in her. Chat Noir? Chat Noir was her soul mate? He couldn’t be. That’d be some horrible irony. She thought to herself. Chat of course was not oblivious to the soft pink that dusted his lady’s face at the nickname. He’d thought the name was cute but hadn’t expected such a response from her.

“My lady? Blushing and stuttering?” he teased, grinning as he stood up straight, “Don’t you think it’s cute… Bugaboo?” he continued to tease, only making the blush on Ladybug’s face grow more. Her right hand instinctively going to cover her right ear, looking away shyly,

           “Oh, hush kitty.” She muttered, stepping back awkwardly. Now it was Chat Noir’s turn to blush. His heart raced at the nickname, his smirk growing into a smile. His mind racing with the beat of his heart. Ladybug. My soulmate. The thought had him purring. Before he could say more though, Ladybug looked over the skyline wanting to get out of here before he called her Bugaboo again. “It looks like there’s nothing happening tonight. I should get home. Goodnight.” She said softly, tossing her yo-yo and swinging away. Leaving Adrien a mess as he watched her red figure disappear in the night. He went home feeling like he was floating on clouds, while Marinette was confused. Both in shock at what had occurred in the night. Adrien’s hand spinning the ring on his finger and Marinette’s caressing behind her ear as they were lost in thought.

           Both Adrien and Marinette got used to being called by their nicknames over time. Still feeling a flutter of butterflies in their stomachs when they heard their nick name but not showing how it affected them.

~ ~ ~

Marinette raised a brow at the familiar thud on her balcony, telling her Chat was visiting tonight. She’d grown to appreciate her visits with Chat Noir. As Marinette, he didn’t call her Bugaboo, so it helped her relax around him. It also let her appreciate his goofy humor more, not being stressed to solve an akuma problem like she usually had to do. She had just gotten out of the shower, her hair still wrapped up in a towel and recently changed into her pajama’s. She peaked her head out from the trap door that led to her balcony and smiled sweetly,

“I wasn’t expecting you tonight?” she said, raising a brow as he leaned against his staff with a shrug.

“This cat felt a little stuffy staying home. Thought I’d visit my favorite princess.” He said with a smile. Marinette rolled her eyes and giggled softly, beaconing him inside as she ducked back into her room. Chat followed her into the room and looked at the latest sewing project Marinette had laid out on her desk, “I like the new do, Princess. Really stunning. Reminds me of your movie date with Adrien Agreste.” He teased, unable to not be reminded of the day running around with Marinette in those silly sunglasses and a towel on her head. He sat down on her chaise as he smiled up at her.

Marinette roller her eyes, a faint blush going over her face at the mention of her moment in the tabloids with Adrien. Slowly undoing the towel on her head and tossing it to her laundry basket before using her fingers to comb through her hair,

“It wasn’t a date, silly cat.” She said with a scoff, grabbing her comb and hair ties from her desk. “I was just helping him get away from some fans.” She explained as she used her brush to comb out her hair. Her explanation wasn’t fully listened to though. The sight of Marinette combing her hair made him think back to his childhood. Memories of laughing with his mother as she taught him to comb and braid her hair. Fond memories. He smiled softly. The sweet memory made his chest bloom in warmth at the thought if his mother, his hands twitching as he tilted his head shyly.

“Hey. Could I put your hair up?” he asked curiously. Marinette raised a brow at him and he shrugged awkwardly, “My mom used to let me play with her hair and she taught me to braid it and stuff….It’s been a long time since I got to do anything with long hair.” He explained, flicking at his own short locks with a shrug, “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” He added, the kind smile on his face making Marinette’s heart warm. He’d mentioned his mother on few occasions, and Marinette had figured that she wasn’t in his life anymore. This was something she felt good that she could at least do for him to remind him of her,

“I know you wouldn’t, Kitty.” she cooed, sitting down on the floor in front of him and holding up the brush and hair ties to him. The sound of his nick name had sent a shiver down Adrien’s spine and thrown him off. He’d only been called that by Ladybug before. Now Marinette? He shook his head, trying his best to ignore the pounding of his heart. He reached out and gently took the hair supplies held up to him. Sighing shakily as he began to brush out her hair smoothly, separating her hair at her part. Marinette wasn’t shocked at his gentle hands as he brushed out her hair and put her left pig tail in.

As Chat began combing out the right side of her hair, he was quick to notice the black script behind her ear. He continued to comb her hair out, his hands nimbly twisting the hair tie around her hair as his eyes couldn’t help but read over the soul mark. He had never noticed it before when hanging out with her. As he read the script, ‘Bugaboo’ he felt his breath catch. Marinette noticed how Chat Noir’s movements had faltered on the second pigtail, and right as she was about to say something, she felt his thumb graze gently over her soul mark. Her back stiffened as she realized he’d seen it, he’d read it.

“Bugaboo?” he asked softly, making Marinette’s face go bright red. His hand continued to wander along her ear to notice the black earrings she wore. The earrings she always wore. Instinctively Marinette’s hand shot up to her right ear, pushing Chat’s hand away and covering the soul mark. The movement was familiar to him. The same movement he’d seen Ladybug do when he first called her Bugaboo, and one she did occasionally at being called the nickname the past few months.

“Chat.. I-“ she tried to think of what she could say,

“Ladybug?” he asked, his heart was pounding in his chest. A grin grew on his face as he began to connect the dots, the hair, the eyes, the kindness, why Marinette was always late or running off alone during akuma attacks.

“N-No. No I’m not.” she said in panic, not wanting to look up at him. She was trying to lie, but the red blush on her face was giving her away. Chat chuckled,

“You’re definitely my lady.” He purred, his hand pushing hers out of the way gently to caress the soul mark again, “Claws in.” he said softly. His mask falling and Plagg flying out to land on the chaise beside him. The kwami was about to complain about needing cheese, but the scene in front of him had even him quiet.

           Adrien moved his hands in front of Marinette, the back of her head pressing into his chest. He used his left hand to shift his ring down his finger, revealing his own soul mark. Marinette blushed more as she read the cursive word, the nickname she’d given Chat and had been calling him for months now.

           “Y-You shouldn’t have detransformed Chat.” She said shakily, her heart was pounding, her palms were sweaty, and her stomach was turning. Chat Noir, or really whoever he was under the mask was her soul mate. He had to be. Adrien only chuckled,

           “You’ve always been such a stickler for the rules Marinette.” He said with a grin, slipping his ring back onto his hand properly and using his hand to tilt Marinette’s chin to turn and look at him. She closed her eyes tight, knowing she shouldn’t see his civilian form, but wanting so desperately to. It didn’t even take Adrien any coaxing for her to open one eye for a peak, too curious for her own good.

           The sight of Adrien smiling down at her made Marinette’s face go redder than before.

           “A-Adrien?” she stuttered in shock, her brain could barely process the idea that Chat Noir was actually her soul mate. Adrien being Chat Noir, and therefore being her soul mate was enough to fry her brain. Adrien only shrugged awkwardly, gently pulling Marinette up to join him on the chaise, sitting between his legs.

           “In the flesh, Bugaboo.” He said with a shy smile, setting one hand gently on her thigh. Marinette stared, wide eyed and blushing up at Adrien; the sight of which made a blush form on Adrien’s face as well. With his other hand he cupped Marinette’s face, running his thumb across her cheek as he leaned his face down to hers slowly. Giving her a chance to stop him as he leaned into her, his stomach filling butterflies as their eyes closed and their breath mingled.

Marinette was certain that Adrien could feel her heart thumping in her chest; and Adrien lost himself in the scent of buttery croissants, macaroons, and other baked goods that clung to Marinette. Slowly, their lips met in a shy kiss. Marinette’s hands slid to wrap around Adrien’s torso, fingers curling into his shirt as she leaned into him, hungry for more she kissed him harder. She’d been a mess internally for months, in love with Adrien but torn at the idea that Chat Noir could be her soulmate. Now all the puzzle pieces that didn’t seem to fit had found their place. It made sense.

They parted, shaky breaths still clinging to one another as their faces still lingered close. A soft wave of pink dusting both their faces as Adrien smiled gently, placing a small kiss to the tip of Marinette’s nose.

“Whoever that mystery guy you liked can’t beat a soul mate can it?” he purred, pride filling his chest. No matter who the guy Marinette had liked was, they were soul mates. They were meant to be. Marinette couldn’t help but giggle softly, she was at a loss for words at everything - not knowing what to say at Adrien’s obliviousness. Marinette’s silence had Arien raise a brow, “Cat’s got your tongue?” he teased. Marinette roller her eyes and pushed his face away from hers as she laughed at his silly pun,

“I’m just shocked at how dumb my kitty is.” She said giggling, enjoying the confusion on Adrien’s face as he scratched at the back of his head in thought. She leaned in close to him, hooking her finger in the collar of his shirt, “I was denying Chat Noir for Adrien.” As she explained herself a light went off in Adrien’s eyes, finally connecting the dots he chuckled. Resting his head on Marinette’s shoulder,

“This is why you’re the brains of our duo.” He mumbled. Both sighed gently as they enjoyed the embrace, their faces still pink, stomachs fluttering with butterflies, and hearts pounding.

#i couldnt stop myself #it was just such a cute idea i had to make a thing #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #ladybug #chat noit #ladynoir #marichat #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #soulmate au #oneshot #my writing

[redrobin-detective]

Ben 10 lore that exists in my heart regardless of canon

- Ben’s personality in his mid-late teens is a mix of his Alien Force and Omniverse self. On the surface, he’s very cheerful and kind even if he is a bit of arrogant showoff. He makes jokes and plays around and acts as if he isn’t bothered by the things in his life. Those who know him best understand a good portion of his outward confidence and cockiness is just a facade to cover up his insecurities and to project the ideal, effortless hero. While sometimes seen as immature, most beings know Ben 10 means business as he takes his unofficial job and people’s safety very seriously. He’s clever, adaptable, charismatic and empathetic which makes him a formidable opponent and a loyal friend. Doesn’t open up easily but if you get to him, he become so dearly attached. 

- Drinks smoothies so much for several reasons. Comfort food go brrr, reminds him of the good easy times with him Gwen and Kev. It’s also a light but generally nutritous food to give him energy for heroing. Anything too heavy and he’ll be puking (both from physical and emotional stress). Though he jokes about his mom’s health foods, his are a crazy concoction of add in proteins and vitamins/minerals bc he knows he’ll out and out collapse without it. (Still has on occasion bc boy still doesn’t eat right/enough)

- While Fame is exciting for him at first he soon begins to detest it. Not the fans, no, he can’t bring himself to hate the people who look up to him. But he hates the constant attention, that he can’t walk outside without being mobbed. the only place he feels safe is his hometown where most people are so used to him and his weirdness that they don’t react much anymore. Takes to wearing a cape and face shield when going out anywhere so he can actually get things done without being recognized and mobbed.

- Part of the reason Bellwood isn’t concerned with Ben is partially because ben’s been weird and alien for as long as they can remember but also many don’t realize how famous/powerful he is. Yeah that’s just Ben Tennyson over there, sometimes he turns into funny creatures- wait what do you MEAN he’s the savior of the universe?? He cried over a spilled smoothie the other day.

- Does mostly online schooling by the time he’s 15. At first he tries to do half day things to maintain something of a normal life but it quickly becomes overwhelming and dangerous him/the school. Finishes his GED early but the Plumbers and Azmuth make him take additional college level and alien courses to prepare him for his future role. Ben gripes but really does love learning all these things, especially on his terms (ADHD and stress + the public school system do not always go hand in hand). He’s a quick learner when he deems the information important and is made accessible to his learning needs.

- Ben definitely has ADHD speaking of which, it was nearly uncontrollable as a child bc his free-spirited parents didn’t believe in medicating. Ben convinced them he needed it and after some trial and error, found meds that worked. As he became more involved in heroics/growing up he had to change his medicine regimen (resulting in him being a bit more off the rails in OV) and needed antidepressants and therapy to manage it better. As an adult he has a whole litany of coping mechanisms (good and bad yes) and regularly checks in with his therapist and doctors to keep things under control. 

- Has a complicated relationship with his necrofriggian children. Considers himself their mother and worries after them. They too feel a connection to their parent despite this being unusual for their species. A few visit (some more than others) while they grow while others maintain distance. Ben never breathes a word of them to the media for fear of them being targeted. Still he keeps an eye on them and ensures all 14 mature to adulthood (another rarity for the species). Checks in every now and again with the ones who don’t want to see him and those that do. Two join the Plumbers and Ben is both proud and worried. His youngest becomes partners with Rook Ben.

- Just in general loves kids, they’re his favorite fans and while he’ll grumble at pushy adult fans he always smiles and kneels down for the little ones. Not so secretly wanted to have children of his own but knew it was a risk overall and used a lot of that energy with mentoring and teaching. Eventually had Kenny later in life (late 30s-40s) and was over the moon, becoming such a loving and doing parent or as much as he could be with his hectic schedule. 

- Omnitrix can’t come off, never has at any point since it first latched onto Ben’s arm. Azmuth tried and failed to get the device off, doesn’t let Ben know for many years as he feared the consequences. The watch loves and protects Ben even beyond it’s programming making him much more durable to damage and releasing energy charges when he’s threatened. Not even removing Ben’s arm would separate them. They’re stuck for life.

- Ben does have Anodite heritage but the Omnitrix actively suppresses it and uses the built up energy to power the transformations which is why ben is mostly unaffected by what should cause a massive energy drain on him. Theoretically if Ben learned to harness and safely use his Mana at an early age like Gwen he would have been fine but letting it build up without safe outlet meant activation would have killed him. Omnitrix Ben, however, went his whole life not knowing of his latent abilities and how the watch saved his life.

- Ben’s eyes get more green and glowy as time passes from the Omnitrix. At first they think its a trick of the light but by the time he’s an adult his eyes are pretty much glow in the dark. His veins light up too after long stretches of using the Omnitrix. Its vaguely unsettling to people who aren’t used to Ben.

- Max and the Earth Plumbers work so, so hard to keep teen Ben on Earth when half the universe is blowing up their comm lines asking for The Ben 10 to help with whatever problem of the day. Ben himself doesn’t quite understand when he’s younger the prestige and expectations on his shoulders. Max throws up a million and one roadblocks so Ben can live as normal a life as possible while he still can. Still, while doing that he Still overloads Ben with expectations and responsibilities on earth and beyond. He becomes a soldier again with Ben as their greatest weapon. He never forgave himself of losing sight of his grandson underneath the hero esp after Ben’s breakdown. 

- Rook partnership with Ben ends not long after Omniverse with his promotion to Magister. Ben tries to play it cool but the thought of another loved one/teammate leaving his tears him apart. Max revealing that Ben most likely wouldn’t get a new Plumber assigned partner since he’s almost an adult and won’t need it and Rook accidentally missing their last smoothie run due to a scheduling mishap causes Ben to snap and have the nervous breakdown that had been building for almost a decade. He completely loses it for a little while and needs to take an extended leave of absence from school and heroics that lasts about a year. Spends time recovering both on Earth and Galvan Prime, does some diplomatic training, learns about aliens, actually confronts the stress and loneliness of his life. He comes out the other side stronger but still fragile and exhausted.

- Ben’s above mentioned breakdown brings him closer to all his friends who didn’t quite realize the extent of Ben’s burden. Rook had been under the impression Ben didn’t like him all that much so the knowledge that his departure was the final straw for friend/hero’s collapse was shocking. Ben and Azmuth also become closer, the Galvan becoming fiercely protective of the boy seeing as his Earth family didn’t do well to keep him safe. It takes years for him to get over his anger at Max for putting so much on his grandchild. Ben makes more friends, in and out of the hero business, finally gets a therapist and gets some of his burdens eased a bit. It’s not a sure fire fix and Ben has several smaller breakdowns the rest of his life but its something.

- Azmuth was straight up suicidal before he met Ben for the first time. Ben gave him back hope for the universe and his ability to create items for peace not weapons. The boy infuriates him, frightens him, frustrates him but Azmuth cannot deny in his heart of hearts that he loves Ben dearly. He’s very upset at Ben’s breakdown and doesn’t know how to handle the worst of the initail outbursts. Azmuth talks Ben down from a suicide attempt. He reaches out to Ben that he Too felt overwhelmed by pressure, thought himself only good for war. Ben’s arrival in his life saved him and now he will do the same for Ben. It’s the first positive step forward in Ben’s recovery.

- For no other reason than I like it, Azmuth primarily refers to Ben as Benjamin (mostly to annoy the kid but he likes the way it sounds too) and Ben in softer, more serious moments. 

- Professor Paradox continues to flit in and out of Ben’s life. He says its because Ben is the most equipped to handle universal peril (true) but he’s also just very fond of the boy. Ben, existing in so many forms and having such importance also exists a beat outside of normal reality which Paradox identifies with. Ben is naturally attuned to time related problems because of this (instantly IDing Spanner as from the future before being told later deducing him to be his unborn son). Plus Ben named him, way back when. He’s just drawn to Ben.

- Adult Ben, while being seen as an impressively skilled fighter and champion, really has his strength as a universal diplomat of sorts. Based out of Earth, he helps mediate and defuse conflicts, advocate against tyranny and overall preserve peace and balance. He’s not perfect, he makes mistakes and sometimes is forced to become violent (and yes kill) but overall is regarded as a peacekeeper, something younger ben simply couldn’t understand. 

- Gwen gets her degree and primarily does work with advocacy and teaching about magic/alien culture. While she and Ben are still close, there’s a bit of a frustrated divide in that she isn’t helping him share the burden of the universe. Gwen never wanted to be a hero and has enough worth to not shackle herself to a job that’ll burn her out. Ben loves heroing but gives too much of himself away trying to fix everything. They get into screaming arguments that it wouldn’t be so bad out there if she just helped him but she refuses to budge and says he shouldn’t make himself do so much. They always make up and thy still are each other’s closest relationships.

- Ben marries Kai in a political move, Kai is Asexual and Ben Aromantic. They didn’t love each other but they got on well enough and Ben was really feeling the stress of carrying the hero burden so Kai also being involved made him feel like he wasn’t alone. Both were also so tired of the universe constantly asking about their love life and said ‘fuck it we’re married leave us alone’. Gwen was always mad about it feeling Ben deserved better but the two of them were happy with it. They had separate rooms, mostly separate lives but they became strong friends and supports with their strictly platonic marriage. They had Ken via Invitro in an incubator and were loving if extremely busy parents. 

- Also from the moment he appeared, Ben knew that Spanner was his future son, Kenny. He played ignorant and then was kind of deliberately teasing him in future encounters. He knew the rules of time and didn’t want to disrupt things further even if he was angry and worried as heck about why Ken felt the need to time travel. When future Ben catches up in the timeline, Kenny gets SUCH a lecture. 

- Ben isn’t quite immortal but he’s also not entirely human anymore either. The Omnitrix not only keeps him safe from most harm but it lightens the effect of aging. Ben 10 is active many, many years when most humans would have been forced to retire. He’s not sure how long the watch will keep him alive and it terrifies him. Gwen too is functionally immortal however she ages like a normal human, then when her natural death came, shed her skin and became a fulltime Anodite. So in the end, it was her and Ben together wondering which of them will die first. Gwen has trouble retaining her humanity as pure energy and swears she’ll let herself fizzle out when Ben goes. When that’ll be however...

#Ben 10 #this took sooo long whoops #i wanna write about ben's breakdown so mad you have no idea

[comingtothetree23]

A Film By Peter Parker (Peter Parker X Reader)

So, This is my very first X Reader fic on Tumblr! I hope it isn’t too bad, Enjoy! 

(H/n) - (Hero Name) 

"What are we waiting for?" Peter asked while looking out the car window. All he knew was that Tony Stark needed him, and man was he excited!

"Someone important." Was all Happy said, looking bored and annoyed out of his mind.

"Who?"

"You know (H/n)?" Happy asked finally looking Peter's way 

"Y-yea?" He looked confused before his eyes widen as he realized what he meant, "(H/n) Is coming with us!?" He sat up in his seat still filming.

"Yes, She's coming. right now actually." 

Peter's head darted right out the window, The camera shows a girl with (H/C) (H/L) hair coming their way with a suitcase or two. The girl and Peter made eye contact and all he saw was her (E/C) eyes. After the girl put her stuff in the back she opened the door on right Peter's side saying, "Sorry, Sorry I'm late!" She put her seat belt on as she exclaims, "Something came up and- Oh you know how it is." She finished with a wave of her hand

"Yea, yeah I know, kid." Happy sighed before backing out of the driveway. Not excited for the trip

The screen cut a little before showing the scenery of New York passing by at a high velocity. they seem to be on a highway. Peter in a gravelly voice narrates, "New York. Queens. It’s a rough borough, but hey, it’s home." 

"Who are you talking to?"

The camera moves to face Happy, who was still driving, "No one. Just making a little video of the trip." he explains in his own normal voice

"You know you can’t show it to anyone." 

"Yea, I know." The camera quickly moved to Peter's other side showing (Y/n) sitting there with an amused smile on her face

"Then why are you narrating in that voice?" Happy asks looking at the two teenagers through the mirror

" Uh... Because it’s fun." Peter shrugged as he explains causing (Y/n) to giggle a little. Peter looks over at her with a smile.

"fun." Happy scoffed, Apparently, Happy thinks this whole situation is the opposite of fun. He puts on his sunglasses and solemnly looks out the windshield.

"Oh lighten up, Happy!" (Y/n) smiled as she through a piece of food at him

"No eating in the car! (Y/n) You know this by now!" happy scolded, (Y/n) was unfazed by this apparently. All she did was give the camera a deadpan look. 

" So, uh, why do they call you Happy?" Happy raises the limo’s partition. We see a reflection of Peter Parker holding up his phone and filming.

"Soooo..." (Y/n) starts causing Peter to start filming her, "Know any cool games?" She asks with a small smile scooting a little closer to the boy with a small smile.

The three gets out of the car to find a small private plane waiting for them. (Y/n) and Peter were laughing at something on (Y/n)’s phone. Happy took Peter's stuff out from the back saying, "Come on. I’m not carrying your bags. Let’s go."

"Always in a hurry." (Y/n) scoffed with a roll of her eyes while she took her own stuff.

"Hey, should I go to the bathroom before?" Peter asks still filming the two. 

"There’s a bathroom on it."

"Amen for that." (Y/n) muttered before she gets on the plane almost dropping her stuff

Inside the plane, we see a view of the cockpit. Two seats for the pilot and the copilot are there no one is sitting in them, "Whoa. No pilot? That’s awesome."

Peter sits down across from Happy, directly facing him, "Is that where you’re gonna sit?" he asks the boy, watching as (Y/n) sat right next to him. She gave him a smirk that made him uneasy. 

"Yeah."

"Of course we are, Happy!" (Y/n) starts with a small smile, wrapping an arm around Peter's shoulders, "This guy is actually Super interesting and fun to talk to." You move your arm finishing, "You should try it." 

"This is your first time on a private plane?" Happy asked Peter completely ignoring (Y/n)'s comment. He’s used to it at this point he knew her for years now.

"My first time on any plane." Peter explained before Happy moves away to sit in another seat.

"Really!?" (Y/n) asks looking over at the boy, Peter nodded as her smile hot bigger, "Oh this is going to be SO much fun! Don't worry. we’ll be okay...probably." She looked over to where she saw Peter eyes widen before she nudged him, “I’m kidding! I’m Kidding! We’ll be fine.” 

"Should it...? Should it be...? Should it be making that noise?" Peter asks when the plane starts to make a weird noise.

Later, Peter puts a finger to his lips and makes a shushing sound. The camera reveals Happy snoring. At the sound of Peter’s chuckle, Happy jerks awake, causing the whole frame to shake. There's laughter heard and it showed (Y/n) laughing in her seat, having seen what happened.

inside Berlin Brandenburg Airport, we see German signs, Happy dragging his luggage behind him, and Peter’s face in quick succession and (Y/n) making faces behind him. 

"No one has actually told me why I’m in Berlin or what I’m doing. Something about Captain America going crazy." Peter is sightseeing Berlin. We see Berlin streets, the Brandenburg Gate, a street performer, foreign girls, and a pretzel vendor.

"he went insane!" (Y/n) appears into the frame next to Peter, “At least that’s what I was told.” (Y/n), Happy and Peter enter a hotel. 

"(Y/n) that room is yours." Happy explains while pointing to a door, "This is you." Happy points to the door across from (Y/n)'s and next to Happy's

"Oh, we’re neighbors?"

"We're not roommates. Suit up."

The shot changes in a dark room, suddenly the lights turn on showing Peter his hotel room.

"WHAT!? No way!" Peter starts to film his room, "Look at this place!" Peter flips the camera to show his face as he smiles, "Oh my god this is insane!" Peter suddenly makes a face as he shows the camera an orange chair, "Not loving the orange chair."

"Not the best color." a voice came in, the camera flips to show (Y/n) standing in the doorway with her arms crossed an amused smile on her lips, "Oh but you haven't seen the best part!" she smiled and drags peter to the window to see the view

"What!?" Peter exclaims as he films the view. Suddenly a bunch of candy is on the screen, "Look at the candy." 

"I know right?" (Y/n) smiled as she picks some up, "I always make sure Mr. Stark bring some. He....kinda overdoes it." She smiled down at the snacks, "But hey it's nice." she shrugs before the camera changed

"I have a TV in my bathroom!? Yea!" Peter smiled as he films his bathroom, seeing himself in the reflection. The camera changed to Peter just sitting down

"I brought my homework just in case, ya know Don't know how long I'll be here." He explains before placing the book down. 

“You go to school?” (Y/n) asks as she lays on her stomach, watching Peter look through his bag not really caring that she’s being recorded anymore

“yea, do you not?” putting down his books Peter looks over at (Y/n) waiting for her response

“Nah, I tried once but...” She averted her eyes as she explains, “I kinda... burnt my classroom.”

“What!?”

“I didn’t mean to!” She quickly sat up holding her hands out, “I was stressed! My powers show when I’m stressed!” 

"Come on!" Happy's annoyed voice came through the room. He quickly realized the teens weren’t getting ready for the battle

"Give us a minute, goddammit!" (Y/n)'s voice yelled back. She’s seen running out of Peter’s room to get her suit. Peter watched as she leaves unable to think for a moment

"Guess it's time to fight...the bad guys." Peter made a face at the screen as he heard something fall and most likely break.

"Sorry!" (Y/n)’s voice came through, “I’m just... really stressed right now!”

"Okay, Peter, you got this. You got this." Peter mumbled to himself Standing in front of a mirror, Peter is now wearing his homemade Spider-Man suit, consisting of a thin, baggy sweatshirt, goggles with shutters, and web-shooters

"What the hell are you wearing?" Happy is staring at Peter with a horrified look. 

“it’s my suit.” Peter tilts down the camera to reveal his feet

"what's is holding us up-Oh." (Y/n)'s suddenly entered the room, now in her superhero outfit. She looks over at Peter and nodded her head at him asking, "Homemade suit." there a second of silence before (Y/n) nodded mumbling, "It's a homemade suit."

"Where’s the case?" Happy asks, confusing Peter

"What case? That’s not my..." He trails off as Happy opens a door, showing Peter another area of his suite, "What? I thought that was a closet. This is still my room?"

"Go. please."

"My room is way bigger than..."

"There." A case is sitting on a coffee table

"Trust me, You'll love it!" (Y/n) smiled at him before leaving his room.

" I found the case. I found the case. I found the case." He plucks up a card that says “A minor upgrade -TS” from the case, "'A minor upgrade'?" When Peter unbuckles a lock the case unfolds itself, revealing a high tech Spider-Man suit complete with awesome holograms, "Whoa. Oh my God."

"Put it on." Happy rolled his eyes at the kid

"What the...? This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen-" 

"Let's go." Happy cut him off with an annoyed look.

"But, yeah. Well, I don’t understand. Is it for me?" Camera spins to find Happy leaving the room, "Happy, Happy, wait." Peter takes off the mask of his homemade Spider-Man suit with a huge, excited grin on his face, "This is insane. Insane. Look at this thing. Look. Look at the eyes. This is the greatest day of my life."

"Let's go." Happy rolled his eyes. He has come to drag a hyped-up Peter out of the room

"Okay."

"Come on."

"Oh my god, Happy." (Y/n) growled as she pocked her head in, "Give him a minute!"

Outside Flughafen Leipzig-Halle, We see Iron Man, War Machine, (H/n), Captain America, Black Widow, and Black Panther confronting each other. (H/n) has a ball of fire in her right hand while her left hand had a handful of water floating right above it. 

"Okay, there’s Captain America, Iron Man, Black Widow. (H/n) as you've seen earlier, Whoa. Who’s that new guy?" Peter whisper as he films the fight.

"Underoos!" Peter, now dressed in the Spider-Man suit that Tony gave him explains to the camera

"Oh, that’s me. I gotta go. I gotta go." Peter puts down the phone and proceeds to snatch Captain America’s shield with his web, "Hey everyone."

"Whoop! Whoop!" (H/n) cheered as she points to him, “There’s my Man! Spider-Man!”

"Not now (H/n)!" Tony and Steve both yell at the same time, making (H/n) drop her hand

A little bit later,

"Okay, so the craziest thing just happened, right? I just had a fight with Captain America and I stole his shield and I threw it at him-" Peter is holding his camera and flying through the air to find a safe spot. We see and hear explosions everywhere. 

“Oh, not cool, Clint!” (H/n)’s voice rang through the battlefield

Suddenly, there’s a metallic noise. Ant-Man grows into a giant in the background and grabs War Machine by his ankle. Peter turns to see this, "What the hell? He’s big now. I gotta go. Hang on."

The phone is put down and for a moment, all we see are the sky and the clouds. Then we hear the battle commencing and see Peter being flung through the air.

"Stand down, Man!" Suddenly it shows (H/n), shes blasting Ant-Man with balls made out of fire. She quickly uses air to blow out a flame by one of the planes. She takes a glance at the phone before doing a double-take. She rolls her eyes before turning to where Peter was flung, "Are you seriously recording this!?" While she's distracted she's hit out of fame with a yelp.

“Not cool, man!” 

The screen cuts for a moment before showing (H/n) grabbing the phone and running somewhere with it, not realizing it’s still recording. 

“Hey, you alright?” She reaches Peter where he’s just laying down holding his side.

“Y-yea, I’m alright.” Peter replies, coughing a little. He looked fine but it was clear he was injured.

“I-uh have your phone. Here.” She hands Peter back his phone. Peter gives a smile under his mask as he realized it’s recording

“Thanks.” 

“We should clean this up.” (H/n) kneels down and gently touches Peters side causing him to flinch and (Y/n) to frown, “I got this.” she raises her arm and uses her power to make the water move closer to Peter.

Peter tilts his head in confusion, which (H/n) notices and chuckles, “It’ll make it better.” she smiles before she closes her eyes to focus on healing Peter. As shes doing this Peter pain starts to slowly go away. When the pain is fully gone (H/n) open her eyes and moves away a little, “There should be good.”

“H-how?” Peter touches his side where he was injured before looking over at the girl. 

“It’s just part of my power. The elements are amazing!” She gives a small smile and shrug. She opens her eyes and looks around before taking of her mask, “We should get out of here. Don’t you think?” she looks over at Peter who nods at her. The screen cuts out for a moment.

Back in Peter's hotel room. Peter is facing the camera, now dressed in a grey NASA T-shirt. It is obvious that he is still high on adrenaline, (Y/n)'s sitting on his bed next to him using her power to move water on her injured arm. (Y/n) looks over at Peter with a smile, enjoying watching him rant to the camera 

"It was the most amazing thing that’s ever happened! So Mr. Stark was like, ‘Hey, Underoos!’ and I just sort of flipped in and I stole Cap’s shield. I was like, ‘Hey, what’s up, everybody?’ And then..." There's a knock on the door, "Hey, just a second! Coming!" He back flip to the door, shocking (Y/n), but before he can open it, Happy enters in a bathrobe, "hey."

"We have thin walls here." annoyed he starts looking around the room and makes eye contact with (Y/n), she just shrugs as Happy sighs, "Just... clean this up before housekeeping see’s." He leaves without another word, making (Y/n) and Peter look at each other. (Y/n) snickers as she moves the water into a cup

“he’s always like that don’t worry.” 

When you both hear his footsteps walk away Peter jumps onto the bed right in front of the camera, "I should probably go to bed, but I really don't want to." He gives a smile to the camera

"Ain't that the truth." (Y/n) mutters and Peter looks at her with a smile. 

"I have an idea." Peter and (Y/n) looks at each other before smirking. The shot changed to Peter in his bathroom recording himself in his new suit. He puts a finger to his lips and shushes the camera

"Hey, you ready to go?" (Y/n) whispers as she walks in, now in her (H/n) suit. Peter looks at her with a nod. Peter records himself opening the window, "This is gonna be fuuun~" (Y/n) whispers as she holds onto to Peter. (Y/n) now records the scenery as Peter swings them onto a random roof. 

“hey, Wait up! I can’t run that fast!” (H/n) yells when the two starts to parkour the city. He laughs a little at her but stops and waits for her regardless 

"Hey, Do you hear that?" (Y/n) asks as they both suddenly hear music. They both look at each other before slowly turning their heads to the direction of the music. Peter films where they are looking, at a party, "Why don't we celebrate your first fight?" (Y/n) asks with a smirk on her face.

The camera suddenly shows a bunch of moments from the party, Girls dancing with (Y/n), Peter and (Y/n) taking selfies with the people there. There is this one part where it was just (H/n) challenges people to take shots with her and they did. There were some videos of Peter swinging some girls around vlog style. All of them were screaming though 

"Hey, Hey, Hey! Look at them go!" (Y/n)'s voice ranges through showing she is the one recording now. Her words are a little slurred showing that she might be a little drunk. The camera shows Peter swinging girls around the city as they are hopefully enjoying themselves. The video continued of the two just enjoying themselves until it changed into the morning. 

The camera now shows a bunch of food and the names of them. One of the waitresses puts down and cup and gives (Y/n) and Peter a smile. Peter flips the camera to record him and (Y/n) giving each other a look. Their now both in their normal clothes except (Y/n)'s hair is a big mess and she is wearing sunglasses, she is most definitely hungover.

"Out late Superheroing?" Happy asks from behind them, making them both shoot around to look at him with panic on their faces.

"Nooooo?" (Y/n) more asked, holding her arms behind her back trying to calm herself down.

"Oh yea, ya know just around the block," Peter explains making (Y/n) shoots him a glare from behind her sunglasses

"Peter!" 

"Sticky boi saves chancellor? Element girl saves mayor?" Happy shows them a newspaper that is in another language. 

"That was the chancellor?" Peter asks 

"That was the mayor?" (Y/n) asks at the same time as Peter

"I mean." Peter started, trying to play it off, "it's not like they got photos." Happy flips the newspaper to show them that people indeed had photos of Spider-man and (H/n), "That's awesome! Can I keep this?"

"I mean, people already know about (H/n)." (Y/n) says nervously fiddling with her fingers. Happy gives them both a look and grabs the camera

Camera starts rolling up again, now inside Tony's car. A hand reaches for it and it tilts up to find Tony Stark in a suit and sunglasses ensemble. (Y/n) is sitting next to him crossing her arms and pouting. Her hair is now brushed and her sunglasses are on her head.

"What are you doing, a little video diary?" Tony asks as he gives the camera a look

"yeah," Peter mumbles suddenly feeling embarrassed about recording everything, including the party he went to with (Y/n). (Y/N) was already in trouble for that.

" It’s all right. I’d probably do the same." Tony shrugs it off making both (Y/n) and Peter look at him in shock.

" I told him not to do it. He was filming everything." Happy explains to Tony from the front seat, still annoyed with the two teens.

" It’s okay."

" I’m gonna wipe the chip." 

"What!?" (Y/n) sits up to look at Happy, "You're going to wipe it!? Why!?" She points to the screen as she says, "there's some good content in there!"

"Of you drinking?" Happy raised a brow at her, she mumbled under her breathe and sits back down and pouts harder. Tony laughs a little and gives her a pat on the back.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. You know what? We should actually... We should make an alibi video for your aunt anyway. You ready?" Tony takes off his sunglasses, revealing a badly bruised face making (Y/n) wince and gently touch her own eye at the thought.

"Yeah, hold on."

"We rolling?" tony asks looking straight into the camera

 "An alibi? Sure." Peter shrug

 "Get in the frame."

"Okay." Peter awkwardly goes into the frame giving the camera an equally awkward and dorky smile making (Y/n) smile at Peter.

"Hey, May. How you doing? What are you wearing? Something skimpy, I hope." Peter turns to Tony with a frown on his face. Tony chuckles and pats Peter’s shoulder, whose face now wears an uncomfortable smile. (Y/n) gives Tony a look with a slow shake of her head, "Peter, that’s inappropriate. All right, let’s start over. You can edit it." Peter nods at him

"Three, two, one. Hey, May. My gosh, uh, I wanted to tell you what an incredible job your nephew did this weekend at the Stark internship retreat. Everyone was impressed." Tony is putting on a solemn face. Peter offers the camera a wide-eyed, tight-lipped smile, trying to look innocent. (Y/n) leans into the fame and gives a peace sign. Suddenly, we hear a loud honk making the girl jump. 

"Come on! It’s a freaking merge." Happy then says to Tony, "I’m sorry."

" This is because you’re not on Queens Boulevard.” He looks toward the camera, “See, Happy is... is hoping to get bumped up to asset management. He was forehead of security, and before that, he was just a driver."  Still driving, Happy gives Tony a sidelong glance.

"That was a private conversation. I don’t like joking about this. It was hard for me to talk to you about that." 

" No, seriously, was he snoring a bunch?" Tony asks look at both Peter and (Y/n). (Y/n) looks over at Happy with an unreadable look on her face. Happy slams on the brakes, making the car screech to a stop, making (Y/n) fall out of her seat.

"That's why we wear seat belt, kids." her muffled voice came through the car. Peter wince as he looks at the girl who’s face down on the car floor, not even trying to get up.

" All right. Here we are. End of the line. Whoops." Tony laughs and films Peter, who looks a bit pale. 

"Happy, can you give us a moment?" Tony asks as he looks at happy

" You want me to leave the car?" 

"Why don’t you grab Peter’s case out of the trunk," Tony suggests making Peter so shocked that he stops filming. 

There’s one more part of the film, one that Peter himself didn’t even realized was recorded.  Peter smiles as he was able to go inside, it was until he heard

“Peter! Wait!” 

Peter immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around to face a now panting (Y/n).

“what up, (Y/n)?” Peter asks the dying girl with a small smile. He liked her, she was fun and chill to hang around with, “Need anything?”

“I-uh just wanted to say” (Y/n) started fiddling with her fingers before making eye contact with Peter, “You did a good job on the mission and I hope I’ll see you again.” She gives Peter a sweet smile as she finally stopped with the fiddling.

“he, Thanks (Y/n). Hope to see you again too.” He looks at her awkwardly not really knowing what to say. It was until she smirked at him

“One more thing.” she gently put her hand on Peter’s shoulder before giving him a small kiss on the lips, leaving Peter beyond shocked, “See ya around, Spidey!” She wave him a wave before walking back to the car

Peter stood there for a moment before he looks up to watch her leave. He smiled as the car drives off. He reaches up and gently touches his lips he gives a big smile before entering the apartment with a skip in his step. 

#peter parker x reader #spider-man x reader #spider-man homecoming #captain america civil war #Didn't know how to end this #oh well

[ghostiewriter]

chapter one | tale of a slightly unstable teen hero

Summary: JJ is starting to gain recognition around New York as the new hero in town. However, some complications arise with his new chemistry partner. Oh, and turns out he isn’t the only bloke around here with powers.

Warnings: John B is a simp, I feel like that needs a warning tbh. Umm there’s a lot of swearing (I’m Scottish, don’t judge), again some violence and fighting, also some cute ass moments between JJ and his mum so enjoy that

Word Count: 8.1K

A/N: Sooo there’s finally some Jiara in this chapter!! Hope you enjoy👀and I’m not responsible for any feels caused by JJ and Georgia Maybank!!

masterlist // taglist // ao3

“Spider-Man does it again! Report of our favourite web-slinging hero saving the day once again after a fatal accident left an apartment complex on the corner of 5th and 36th street in flames. The teen hero arrived at the scene not long after the distress call was made to the local fire department and managed to rescue over twelve people that were trapped on the top floor. New York thanks Spider-Man once again.”

JJ grinned as he leaned back in his seat, sparing a smug look towards John B in the driver’s seat. JJ didn’t usually carpool with John B but it was getting colder and his extra-curricular activities were wearing him exhausted by morning. Plus, the last time JJ skated to school when he was half asleep, Pope had to pull him out of a trash can. Turns out raccoons can be very territorial and did not appreciate the blond taking a small visit into their home. He was pretty sure he still had scars on his back from some of those little bastards.

“Three weeks on the job and you already have a little fanbase,” John B commented, reaching over to turn the radio down a little since the reporter moved onto some irrelevant news neither of the boys cared about. “Soon you’ll have a swarm of fangirls chasing after you while you fight crime.”

“Don’t be jealous, JB,” JJ grinned, both arms behind his head as he looked at the passing view. “I’m sure one of my groupies will slum it down for you.” He teased, only laughing when he felt the flick on his forehead.

As much as he hated to admit it, JJ had seriously enjoyed the past three weeks. They were intense, impulsive and unpredictable. Just how JJ liked his life to be. It wasn’t easy at first though, it took a good few attempts before the people of New York actually labelled him as a hero. Maybe it was because he was some young bloke who popped out of nowhere with abilities that no could really understand. Or maybe it was because he was going around in a red ski mask, blue shirt, a red vest with an awfully drawn spider on it and some blue joggers. He looked like a right on idiot, especially with the chunky goggles Pope added to his costume. But if it kept his identity secret, then so be it. The last thing JJ wanted was a bunch of journalists swarming his apartment, especially since he wanted to keep this whole alter ego away from his parents. In fact, he wanted to keep it away from anyone who wasn’t John B or Pope.

It was safer that way.

“At least that’s one more that Pope.” John B said nonchalantly.

“As if, dude!” JJ scoffed, grinning at the distressed—and fairly high pitched—‘WHAT’ that came from the brunette. “Oh, c’mon, Pope created a whole ass bat signal for me! You just sit there and look pretty! Pope gets at least two groupies.” He said with a shrug.

It was true. JJ knew Pope was smart, but this was next level. After realising that JJ wasn’t getting the recognition he needed to be labelled a ‘superhero’, Pope had come up with the ingenuous idea to infiltrate the police radio stations. Not only did they have full access to updates on crimes around the city, but Pope even felt a little fancy and made it so JJ would get a notification sent to his phone the second there was a job for Spider-Man. That boy was way too smart for his own good, but JJ was grateful for it.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” John B asked with a teasing grin.

“Yeah,” JJ smiled, reaching to place his hand on John B’s shoulder with a squeeze. “Pretty fucking ugly.”

John B’s smile instantly dropped as he scowled at JJ, who was happily snickering at the sudden change in mood. “Whatever, Spider-boy.”

“Yikes, low blow.”

The rest of the journey was spent in a similar vibe, except with JJ checking his phone every five minutes. He couldn’t help it, but the past three weeks had been some of the most exciting in his life. JJ had been labelled the troublemaker his whole life, the one that was throwing pencils into Mrs Ramirez’s curls because they looked like little hoops. Or even just doing his damn best to avoid the work he was given. It was a force of habit. JJ’s brain was running at a million miles a second. Nothing could hold him down, keep him entertained for longer than thirty minutes at most. And his teachers had constantly reminded him that his impulsive nature and high energy would lead him nowhere good in life.

All JJ had to say to them now was a massive ‘FUCK YOU!’ because how wrong they were. It was those qualities that made JJ the perfect hero. He could react quick to a sudden change, he was always on his feet, he had found something that not only could he channel all his energy into—but he was damn good at it as well. John B and Pope had warned him that it was best to keep himself humble, to not get too arrogant. But who was he kidding? JJ made a pretty fucking bomb superhero and everyone loved him. It seemed like he deserved to feel arrogant, to soak in his time in the spotlight. He enjoyed every single second.

So, can you really blame JJ for checking his phone, wanting an excuse to put that mask on and do the one thing he is good at? Except for skateboarding. Everyone knew JJ was the best skater in Queens.

Unfortunately, there was no sudden crimes that JJ could use as excuse to ditch school. A true tragedy, if you asked him. It seems like he will just have to suffer through another day of learning things that either happened way too long ago, didn’t make sense to him or he just truly didn’t care about. Which just happened to be basically every subject—excluding wood-shop. Except he was taken out of the class because apparently making mini bongs for birds is not okay. Who would’ve thought.

“I don’t see what the issue is—it’s a fool-proof plan!” John B argued as the two boys made their way through the corridors of Midtown High. Only stopping once they reached John B’s locker where he exchanged his books and JJ checked out the hallway for anything that caught his eye.

“Bro, you have a ten-year plan to end up with Sarah Cameron,” JJ stated bluntly. “And even then, you end up as her second husband—“

“No one can prove what happened to the first.”

“It’s fucking sad, JB.”

“It’s a solid plan.” John B stated simply and shrugged his shoulders, deciding to ignore JJ as he rolled his eyes, muttering something about John B being a ‘hopeless fool’. John B only grinned wider and glanced at his watch before whispering a small ‘shit’ to himself. “I gotta go, see you at lunch.” And with that, John B was zooming his way down the corridor.

“You know it’s really creepy that you plan when you bump into her!” JJ called down the corridor, but he doubted John B heard him. “Like really fucking creepy…like restraining order level creepy!

Once he noticed John B’s head turn the corner, undoubtedly on his way to ‘coincidentally’ bump into Sarah Cameron, JJ calmly made his way to his first period class, not in a big rush to get there.

**********

You see, after the incident in wood shop and many others after that, the school had taken the decision to move JJ into a class they deemed more valuable of his time. Chemistry. Stick the ADHD kid in a room full of chemicals…seemed about right. However, JJ was being transferred half way through the term with absolutely no knowledge in chemistry other than how to make a Molotov cocktail. Therefore, he didn’t really see an issue in showing up to a class he was already hopeless in. His teacher disagreed.

“Mr Maybank, it’s nice of you to finally join us.” Mr Marino—a middle-aged bald man who had looked as though he had been through one too many divorces and contained most of his knowledge in the form of his beer belly—commented as JJ entered the class.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe what happened to me!” JJ sighed dramatically.

“Let me guess: your alarm didn’t go off.”

“It was my pet monkey, sir. Has a mind of its own.”

“Your pet monkey?”

“Yup, his name is JB. Nasty wee guy but I keep him around, he’s a good laugh. Could do with a shower though.”

“Take a seat, Maybank.”

“I can feel the love.” JJ grinned before he turned to look at the class. It was set up with eight workbenches, two seats at each. His eyes scanned over each one before he caught an empty seat at the back-left workbench, the only empty seat—and just his luck it was next to the curly haired beauty for the trip.

JJ was starting to think he might actually enjoy this class.

“We just keep meeting, sweetheart. I think it’s a sign.” JJ whispered to her as he took his seat next to her, definitely sitting a little closer than he had to. He tried not to smirk when he noticed her subtly moving away from him. JJ always loved a challenge.

“Or a punishment.” She replied bluntly, not even sparing JJ a glance.

“Aw, is this how it’s going to be for the rest of the year, princess?” JJ muttered with a pout. He tried not to smile when she finally turned to look at him.

“Rafe got a concussion.” She hissed.

“So?” JJ frowned.

“So? You caused it!”

“And I should care because?”

“He is banned from the football team for six weeks!”

JJ stared at her blankly. “And…?”

“He is the captain!”

“Boohoo, they’ll survive without him.” JJ shrugged, leaning back in his stool as he flashed her one of his usual girl-charming smiles. “But hey, if you’re really stressed out about it, I’m sure I can help you find a way to relax.”

“You’re a pig.” She stated with a small huff, stubbornly turning to face the front, planning to not even give him the chance to redeem himself. Trust me when I say Kiara is an open person, always there to give people a second chance. But JJ Maybank was not one of those people. In the three times she had met him, he had been nothing but a shameless flirt who had no care for the world beyond his sex life. She could be judging him too quickly, but in her defence, he hadn’t given her anything else to work with.

However, Kiara assumed her behaviour was clear enough that she didn’t want to talk to him, that she could gladly go the rest of the year without willingly speaking to him. But this is JJ. Hyperactive, unable to sit still JJ. He didn’t get the hint.

“So, do anything interesting this weekend?” JJ asked her, that classic smirk of his on his lips. But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she kept her gaze on Mr Marino and his oh-so interesting talk on bond orbitals within an atom.

JJ raised his eyebrows when he received no reply from her. “Giving me the silent treatment now? That’s a bit rude.” He commented.

“So is giving someone a concussion.” She stated.

“Do you want to know what I did?” JJ asked.

“No.”

“Geez, princess, no one ever taught you manners?” He teased, taking the pen he was spinning between his fingers to gently poke her arm. She only huffed and moved her seat further away.

“Okay, alright, fine! I get it…” JJ trailed off, and Kiara couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. But she spoke to soon. She heard the scrape of a chair and suddenly she could feel the warmth of JJ right beside her, their elbows just touching.

“Is there an issue, Mr Maybank?” She heard Mr Marino call out but the boy next to her just shook his head, that mischievous glint shining in his eyes.

“No, please carry on, Alan.” The blond replied, his fingers tapping against the worktop counter.

Kiara sighed. She knew very well that she could put her hand up and complain, or even ask Mr Marino to change seats after class ended. But she was stubborn, and she would be damned if she gave JJ that satisfaction of knowing that he got under her skin.

This was going to be a long year.

**********

“She called me JB! That basically takes three years off my plan!”

“Dude, I don’t know if this is really sad or creepy now…” JJ grimaced. He had spent the last fifteen minutes listening to John B and his ‘coincidental’ encounter with Sarah Cameron. And if he was being honest, he was concerned for his friend. And his stomach…this boy needed to let JJ eat his lunch before he had to hear one more comment about how ‘yellow is totally her colour’.

“I mean, it just compliments her complexion so well! C’mon, how many people do you know that can pull of yellow and not looked totally washed out!” John B argued. But JJ just met him with a blank stare.

“When the fuck did you become a fashion expert?” JJ spoke up, his nose scrunched in confusion.

“I took a class once.”

JJ looked at him with his mouth agape. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Piss off, I wanted to learn how to dress better.”

“Says the guy that wears horrible thrifted Hawaiian shirts.” JJ deadpanned. John B only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back onto Sarah.

JJ followed his line of sight towards Sarah Cameron and her group, and he was shocked at the sight. He noticed the usual people in their uptown outfits and obnoxious laughs he could unfortunately hear from his seat. But it was the sight of his chemistry partner looking quite cosy under Rafe’s arm that caught him off-guard. His eyebrows furrowed a little, but hey, JJ should have seen this coming. The uptown kids like to stick with each other. Yet, JJ couldn’t help but find the sight quite uncomfortable to look at—Rafe had that effect on people. It was a surprise he managed to score…JJ paused. He had spent a whole hour with her and yet, he didn’t even know her name.

He nudged John B, yet neither one of them looked away from the group. “Hey JB, who’s Sarah’s new chick?”

“Who?”

“The pretty curly haired one standing next to her, dumbass.”

“Oh…I don’t actually know—“

“—Kiara Carrera. Relocated here from Kernersville, North Carolina. Her father owns a large chain of restaurants around the country. She is also the only junior other than yours truly doing three AP classes, including environmental science, biology and English.” Pope finished, panting a little considering he had literally just ran into the cafeteria and heard the last few words of their conversation.

JJ looked up at Pope with a mix of awe and fear. “What, you forgot her national insurance number as well? How the fuck do you know all that?”

“The school files.” Pope answered easily as he turned his laptop around and with the screen facing them, JJ decided he was definitely a little scared of Pope.

“Those are meant to be locked away in some super, secret network thing!” JJ hissed, only to be met with a smirking Pope.

“As if, it’s easy as fuck to hack something as amateur as the school’s firewall. Could do it with my eyes closed.” He grinned at the two of them. “Why, JJ? Hiding something from us like…I don’t know…your middle name being Belinda.” He snickered.

“YOUR NAME IS BELINDA?!” John B gasped, looking at JJ with wide eyes.

“Shut up, would you!” JJ hissed at the both of them, leaning over the table to flick John B on the forehead. “I was named after my grandmother.”

“Aww, Grammie Belinda.” John B cooed. JJ only glared at him.

“Hey, Grammie Belinda was a saint, don’t disrespect her like that.” JJ huffed, pointing a finger towards John B. He then turned to Pope who had made himself comfortable in the seat next to him.

“Why were you asking about Kiara?” Pope asked JJ, snatching a few chips from his plate. JJ swatted his hand away but didn’t stop Pope from doing it again. “Does JJ have a little crush?” He teased, pouting a little.

“Piss off,” JJ laughed as he nudged Pope with his shoulder. “She’s just my chemistry partner.”

“Ooh, so you guys have chemistry together?” John B grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fuck off, JB. Go back to stalking your little uptown princess.” JJ commented, returning the grin as both friends shook their head. They both knew the other meant no harm.

“Well, if you two little lovebirds are done having your moment,” Pope piped up, both boys looking over at him. “I need you to meet me on your rooftop at nine sharp tonight.”

“Damn, Pope, finally taking me out?”

“You wish, Spider-Boy,” He grinned, but the look he was giving made JJ a little nervous for what Pope had hidden up his sleeve. It could honestly range from a pet raccoon he befriended to creating some weird Frankenstein bug. “Just be there.”

John B pouted. “What about me?! Is this where I become the third-wheel?”

**********

“Mama?”

“In here!”

JJ dropped his bag by the couch as he made his way to the kitchen, the soft sound of the click telling him the door shut behind him. He sniffed the air as he walked in, seeing his mum at the stove and grinned a little, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“What’s for dinner?” He asked, peeking over her shoulder.

“Spaghetti,” She hummed, a soft smile on her lips as she peeked a glance at her son. “How was school?”

“The usual,” He answered with a shrug as he made his way to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water before heading towards his usual spot on the counter. “Teachers still don’t appreciate my comments, Pope said smart things I didn’t understand and JB was a love-sick puppy.”

She grinned, shaking her head a little. “I find John B’s attempts to woo that girl quite admirable actually,” She commented. “It wouldn’t kill you to be a hopeless romantic every once in a while.” Yet, she only laughed when she saw JJ’s face scrunch up in disgust.

Despite JJ’s reputation for being an adrenaline junkie who loves to live life on the edge, these were actually his favourite moments. The little moments he shared with his mum, just the two of them. It is one of the few moments in his life where he feels relaxed, no expectations or pressures. And as sappy as it sounded—and no offence to John B and Pope—but JJ wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was one of his best friends, one of the few people in his life he truly cared about. People like her are the reason he enjoys being Spider-Man, because despite the shit people in the world, there were some genuinely good people out there, like Georgia Maybank.

It was hard to believe JJ and Georgia Maybank were related. She was a sweetheart, the type of woman who would take time out of her own life to volunteer at local food shelters despite having just done a twelve-hour shift at the hospital. She is the type of woman to buy flowers and hand them to strangers on the street just to brighten someone’s day. She is the type of woman who would work her ass off to give her son all that she could, despite the struggles she faced with the bills and rent because her son was her life. She was the opposite of JJ’s hyperactive self.

But boy, did they look very similar. From the sandy blonde hair the two of them shared, to the bright blue eyes, to even the exact same smile. JJ really was a carbon copy of his mother. And there was a small part of her, one she would never outwardly admit, that adored the fact JJ looked so much like her. Like a primal mother instinct, she loved her son and she loved that everyone knew he was her son. She would be damned if someone ever asked her to hide that.

Georgia was the type of mother that had that warm aura around her, the one that made you just trust her with your life. The hugs she gives just makes you want to stay in her arms forever, because everything is just better with Georgia Maybank. JJ knew that and he always reminded himself of that. No matter what shit he gets into, no matter how much he may envy the uptown kids—none of them will ever have Georgia Maybank and he would gladly flaunt that.

He may not have designer clothes or a fancy car to drive to school. But they don’t have Georgia Maybank, dancing around barefoot in the kitchen while she badly sings along to some old 80s song that is playing on the radio, just to make him crack a smile.

JJ grinned as his mother grabbed his hand, pulling off the counter before they jokingly began to waltz around the small kitchen, some classical song playing from the small radio that sat on the counter by the stove. JJ only laughed as he apologized for stepping on her toes again, but she didn’t mind. She just smiled and continued to dance.

“Why do I have to do this? I’m starving, woman!” He whined playfully as he twirled his mum around a few times.

“Because, JJ, one day you’re going to have a beautiful girl—or boy, I won’t assume—that will somehow fall for that charm of yours,” She spoke softly, placing a hand on her son’s cheek, a proud glint in her eyes when he rolled his eyes at her statement but still had a small smile on his face. “And I will be damned if I don’t teach my son how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

“Nothing says romantic like stepping on a girl’s toes.” He stated bluntly.

Georgia only laughed and ruffled his hair before she turned back to the stove. She grabbed two plates, putting in a larger portion for JJ—which with his new transformation wouldn’t actually be enough but he will sneak out during the night to eat the leftovers when she’s asleep—before placing them on the small dining table in the corner, gesturing for him to join her.

The rest of the dinner was fairly uneventful, simply just JJ telling her about John B’s updated seven-year plan with Sarah Cameron and Georgia sharing any particularly interesting stories about patients she had to deal with during her shift. JJ really let this dinner sink in. As much as he loved his mother, her inability to say ‘no’ and be so giving kind of bothered him. Because she had taken up extra shifts for a few of her colleagues due to something about the ‘stress of wedding planning’. JJ had been seeing her less and less—and though it was good for his recent Spider-Man shenanigans—this dinner made him realise just how much he missed her. Just a nice, wee dinner with his mum, nothing else. And everything seemed to be going well, until he heard the radio presenter’s voice flowing through the kitchen.

“Locals say that Spider-Man is the next best thing to happen to New York since deep-fried pizza! But I don’t know, Janet. I mean, who is this kid? Where did he come from? There just seems to be a lot of unanswered questions with this so-called hero. Can we really trust some prepubescent boy who probably spends his day with his head in a textbook? It just doesn’t seem—“

The radio presenter was cut off by Georgia turning the volume down. “People can’t appreciate a good gesture anymore.” She huffed. JJ watched her closely as she finished off washing the last of the dishes before turning to face him, a small frown on her lips.

“I think he’s doing the city a favour.” JJ said half-heartedly with a shrug.

Georgia nodded, her fingers gently fiddling with chain around her neck, well more specifically the gold ring attached to it. “I know but,” She sighed. “What a shame, putting all this pressure on a poor teenage boy. Oh, I feel bad for his parents!”

JJ coughed a little. “It could be his decision, you know.”

Georgia continued as though she hadn’t heard him. “I could only imagine how stressful it would be have your son out there, throwing himself at danger.” She shook her head as she made her way to where JJ still sat at the dining table. “Promise me you wouldn’t do something so careless?” She asked sweetly, gently cupping his face in her hands as she looked down at him.

Now, JJ knew there was a teasing tone to her words. She wasn’t being serious because, how could she? Her son being a superhero with crazy powers? Not possible. She and JJ shared everything and it was because of that he couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt wash over him. He hated lying to his mum, he hated keeping secrets from her. They were always close, JJ never felt the need to hide things from her. There was always such a comfortable vibe between them. But he knew how she would react if he told her the truth. He knew she would freak out and make him stop. And JJ didn’t want to stop. As much as he hated the guilt that bubbled inside him, he pushed it away and gave her a grin.

“Of course not, I would come up with a better name than Spider-Man.” He joked lightly and closed his eyes when he felt his mum press a kiss to his forehead. He nuzzled his head slightly as he wrapped his arms around her, resting his head against her stomach. He smiled softly when he felt her hands running through his hair, just like the way she used to do when he was younger and struggling to fall asleep. He tried to hold back a yawn.

“That’s my baby boy.” She said with a gentle laugh.

“Mama, I’m a not a baby! I’m a man now.” He whined but he didn’t pull away from her grip just yet. He missed his mum’s hugs, sue him.

“You’ll always be my baby boy.” She commented with a small shrug.

“Yeah, yeah,” He murmured. After a few moments of silence, he looked up at her, giving the best puppy-dog eyes he could. She was always a sucker for those. “Can I go hang out with JB and Pope tonight?” He asked with a sweet smile.

She rolled her eyes but nodded. “Just be back before your father gets home.”

**********

JJ rubbed his hands together as he stared at the view from the roof. New York looked absolutely stunning this time of year, especially at night. The sky was pitch black, and it should’ve seemed daunting. But the bright lights of the city illuminated everything. It was mesmerising, a sight that JJ would never get tired of seeing. And with his newly discovered powers, he found something therapeutic about swinging around the city and being surrounded those bright lights. It felt like he was swinging through the stars—he obviously didn’t share that with the boys, they would take the piss out of him. Speaking of which…

“Where the fuck is he?” JJ hissed, turning to look at John B who only shrugged in response. As much as JJ liked New York at night, it was cold. The lower body temperature caused by the spider bite really didn’t help the situation. He had a hoodie and a jacket on and still the light breeze was making his teeth chatter.

“I don’t know.” John B shrugged. JJ rolled his eyes in annoyance. It was 9:15pm and JJ was about five minutes away from freezing to death.

Just then, the rooftop door opened and a wild Pope was sprinting towards then, panting heavily as he ripped his backpack off and quickly unzipped it. Words were leaving his lips but between the panting, neither of them could work out what he was saying.

“Dude, calm down, breathe!” John B exclaimed. Pope nodded and took a minute to catch himself.

“Your lives are gonna change forever!” He grinned before looking at JJ. “Strip.”

JJ raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Strip.”

“Dude, it’s like fifty fucking degrees, I am not gonna fucking strip!”

“Stop whining and do it!”

JJ huffed and started to take his clothes off, muttering some very…colourful phrases towards Pope. However, he didn’t get much time to question his friend’s demands because the second he was stripped down to his boxers, he had a bunch of fabric thrown at him.

“Wait…is this…?” He trailed off, looking at Pope with a new look of excitement shining in his eyes.

“You bet,” Pope grinned. “Say hello to your brand-new suit, Spider-Man.”

JJ excitedly began to pull the suit on, suddenly forgetting all about his theatrics with the cold. But Pope wasn’t done with his surprise.

“The suit is a total upgrade!” He began, his hands moving wildly as he spoke. “The fabric is strong but flexible. I have added small web-shooters to go over your spinneret glands so you can have a more direct shots. There are a few extra things I’ve added like a small heater to keep you warm and a few sensors, so we can keep track of your vitals. Oh, and for us—” He paused before handing John B a silver bracelet.

John B looked at the bracelet in confusion. “Uh, thanks?”

Pope only grinned and showed John B that he was wearing a similar bracelet. He slipped it off before unclipping a small oval shaped device from the middle of the bracelet. “This is the coolest part,” He nodded for John B to copy his movements. “To be honest, these took the longest. I had JJ’s suit done like two weeks ago but—”

“And you made me wait this long? Dude, I looked like a weirdo running around in joggers!” JJ groaned, but there was no real hostility in his voice.

“Just put on your mask, dude!”

JJ rolled his eyes but didn’t answer as he slipped the mask over his face. He was a bit surprised at how easily he could see through it, way better than the goggles he had before. The suit was a perfect fit—props to Pope after it took an hour to get all of JJ’s measurements. The material was tight and breathable, practically clinging onto JJ like a second skin. Oddly enough, he felt far more comfortable in it than his last costume. Pope clearly liked the colour scheme, having kept the red and blue palette but with a massive spider on his chest, with lines wrapping around him to look like a web. He looked totally badass, he felt badass. He felt like a proper hero from one of those comic books and posters Pope has around his room.

“So, how do I look?” JJ asked, flexing as he gave the boys a little spin. Pope only grinned, proud of his creation. John B gasped, clearly just as hyped as JJ was.

“Dude, your ass looks great.” John B commented, causing JJ to snort.

“When does it not look great?”

“Guys! The last surprise!” Pope piped up, causing both boys to stop staring at JJ’s ass and instead turn to him.

“These little guys,” He said, nodding between the small oval devices in his and John B’s hands. “Are gonna help us keep in contact with you while you’re swinging around. Little ear pieces so we can help you out and keep tabs on you if you need any help.”

“Where’s my bracelet?” JJ frowned beneath the mask.

“You don’t need one, dumbass. Your ear piece is connected into your mask!” Pope grinned proudly. JJ let out a scoff, shaking his head.

“Pope, you fucking genius!” He yelled, and he pulled his friend into a tight hug. John B, feeling a little left out, quickly joined the hug.

“This is so cool, dude, now we are like an actual team!” John B grinned.

Pope was the first to pull back, looking at JJ with a wild look in his eyes. “I think it’s time for Spider-Man to show the city his new look.”

JJ grinned under the mask, already beginning to take a few steps back. “I think you’re right.” And without a second thought, he left himself fall off the edge of the building.

On that October night, New York watched their own hero swing through the streets, letting the cheers and whoops of the strangers sink in. They watched their hero in a new light, a more professional one. The next day, he was no longer that kid running around like some wannabe. He was Spider-Man, the new saviour of New York and a beloved hero.

It was wild what a good new suit could do for your reputation.

**********

“Did you see the pictures The Daily Bugle released?”

“He looked so hot!”

“I’d let him save me any day!”

“You don’t even know what he looks like…”

“So? Have you seen those arms? Nothing else matters!”

JJ couldn’t help but let the smirk on his face grow as he walked through the corridors of the school. It was the day after his new suit reveal and he wasn’t going to lie, he was soaking in all the attention. He was particularly enjoying the twitter thread that was made about his ass. John B didn’t lie, his ass did look good in this new suit.

He continued his way through the sea of students before he made it to his chemistry class, not surprised that people were still talking about Spider-Man. His eyes instantly glanced over at Kiara, who was sitting at their workbench scrolling through her phone.

He grinned as he quickly past the other students and sat quite comfortably in his seat. His eyebrows raised slightly when she didn’t react at first to his appearance. His curiosity got the best of him as he leaned towards her, peeking over her shoulder to see what she was looking at. Now, JJ won’t lie to you, but when he saw her staring at pictures of Spider-Man, his ego definitely inflated a little. Okay, maybe more than a little but you get the point.

“You a fan?” He couldn’t help but ask, trying to keep his smirk to himself.

Kiara quickly snapped her head to look at him, slamming her phone down screen first onto the desk. “Can you mind your business?” She huffed, trying to calm her heartbeat a little. She didn’t even hear him come in, which is odd since usually you could hear JJ from a mile away.

“Aw, c’mon, Kiara! I thought we were besties now.” He grinned to her, wiggling his eyebrows a little. He leaned forward on the desk, bringing him a little closer to her. His forearms were pressed against the desk, his body leaning on them. She noticed how close their hands were. But after yesterday, she refused to left JJ get under her skin again. Or at least let him see how much he is bothering her. So, she stayed where she was, not moving back like he expected.

“You know my name.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement.

“Surprised?” He whispered, smirking a little when he noticed he wasn’t moving away. JJ risked it a little more and moved a bit closer.

“Took you long enough.” She replied with a shrug. JJ’s grin only widened.

“Oh yeah, counting down the days, princess?” He raised an eyebrow. He noticed her lips quirk a little, like she was fighting back a smile.

“You wish, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Shut up.”

“I think someone has a little crush, Kiara.” He grinned at her, only to witness her roll her eyes and push him away.

“In your dreams, Maybank.”

“Oh, you’re definitely in my dreams, Kiara.”

She rolled her eyes again but didn’t bother replying this time. She instead focused her gaze on the front of the class as Mr Marino entered the room, beginning the lesson. But if she had glanced over to the blond sitting on his right, she would’ve seen he was smiling throughout the whole lesson.

**********

“Thank you, dear!”

JJ nodded his head a little in acknowledgement and gave the older woman a small salute. “Always here to help, ma’am.” He said, handing her the small handbag that he had just rescued from the hands of some man who had tried to steal it from her.

“Aw, you’re really starting to win over the senior citizens.”

JJ rolled his eyes when he heard Pope’s voice through his earpiece. “Dude, I think she pinched my ass.”

“Lucky you, older woman, that’s hot.”

“JB, shut up.”

JJ snorted a little at the bickering, extending his arm out before he was swinging between the buildings with no trouble. He had been using any free time he had lately to be out in his suit, getting used to all the cool, extra bits that Pope had added. And he won’t lie, the boy really outdid himself. JJ felt like a total badass, being able to swing around and save people and feel like a real hero. He also enjoyed the change in attitude people had with him. He was Spider-Man, the city hero. He was appreciated. He was wanted. Not something JJ felt very often.

“Anything happening around town?” JJ asked, his eyes scanning the streets below, waiting to see any conflict. He couldn’t help but feel as though there was a part of him that was on edge. He couldn’t really explain it, it was like a bad shiver down his spine. It was a similar feeling he felt before that bank robbery fiasco a few weeks ago. It was a nasty wee feeling, one that had him on alert. Something was wrong, he didn’t know what. But he could sense it.

“Nah, everything seems to be fine. Maybe you should take a break, you’ve been swinging around for, like, three hours. You need to rest, dude.”

“What?” JJ muttered, so quiet that the boys on the other side barely heard him. That couldn’t be right, he can feel it. Something isn’t right, something bad is going to happen. “Guys, are you—”

He was cut off by a series of screams.

JJ’s body was reacting way before his brain did, like his hero side just leaped into action at the alert of any distress. He was swinging as fast as he could, his arms burning a little as he got closer and closer to the sound of those screams. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears, could feel his heart rate pick up. The adrenaline coursing through him, making him forget about the burning in his muscles from the three hours of patrolling he had done.

“That’s fucking weird, there is no police reports coming through.”

JJ ignored the voices coming through the earpiece, his whole body feeling rigid as he crouched on top of a building, looking at the carnage below. There, in the middle of the square stood what looked like a moving black cloud. Civilians were screaming and running away, but the black cloud just remained. His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was waiting for it to do something, to lash out. But it didn’t. He opened his mouth, ready to ask Pope if he was just imagining something when he heard the black cloud speak.

“Spider-Man, oh Spider-Man! Come out, come out wherever you are!” It spoke in a raspy, demonic voice. Whatever this way, it wasn’t human. JJ may have failed biology, but he knew that for sure.

“JJ, don’t. We are have no idea what this thing is. It could be a trap—”

“I got this, Pope.�� JJ muttered, ignoring his friends’ pleas to think this through as he swung down, landing a couple of feet away from the black cloud. “You called?”

Suddenly, in the middle of the cloud, JJ swore he could see lips begin to materialise. He frowned beneath the mask but didn’t move away. His fist was clenched at the side, ready to react if the cloud tried anything.

“Ah, we finally meet, Spider-Man.” The cloud spoke again. The voice sent shivers down his spine. JJ pushed away that feeling of discomfort. Something about the cloud felt familiar, but he couldn’t tell what. It was like an annoying itch he couldn’t reach.

“Am I supposed to know who you are?” JJ questioned. “Look, dude, if you’re a fan, I appreciate it, but you don’t need to scare away a whole block of people to get my attention. You can just ask for an autograph like everyone else.”

“JJ stop provoking it!”

“You’ll know me soon enough.” The voice replied ambiguously. JJ furrowed his eyebrows together. Whatever this cloud was, it was being far too vague for JJ’s liking.

“PEOPLE OF NEW YORK, I SPEAK OUT TO YOU!”

JJ winced, clutching his ears. His body was on high-alert, his ears sensitive to pick out any small noise or rustle. He looked at the cloud and then at his surroundings, noticing how every screen—every phone, every billboard, every electrical compliance in this vicinity that he could see—was projecting the black cloud. It was broadcasting to the whole city. JJ couldn’t help but wonder where the fuck the hidden camera was. How was it doing this?

“YOU LABEL THIS KID AS YOUR HERO! YOU TRUST THIS CHILD WITH YOUR LIVES! YOU ARE FOOLISH!” The voice boomed, suddenly the black cloud began to form tentacles that were slithering from whatever was at the centre of it. “LET ME SHOW YOU THE TRUTH! LET ME SHOW YOU WHO YOU HAVE TO PROTECT YOU!”

JJ was a little too distracted by the concept of a cloud broadcasting to the city that he didn’t even notice one of the tentacles slithering towards him. It wrapped itself around his leg before swinging him into the nearest building.

JJ let out a small oomph as his body made contact with the brick wall. He could hear yelling in the distance, the sounds of people screaming. But nothing was overpowering the ringing in his ears as he slowly dragged himself to stand up.

“JJ, GET UP! JJ!”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He muttered, blinking a few times before he turned back to look at the cloud. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and quickly rolled over to the side, the tentacle that threw him smashing into the wall not even a second later. That rush of adrenaline hitting JJ again as he quickly swung out of there, not even looking behind him until he knew he was a good distance away to assess the situation.

“IS THIS WHO YOU WANT PROTECTING YOU? A COWARDLY TEENAGER? C’MON, SPIDER-MAN! LET’S SEE WHAT YOU’VE GOT!”

JJ swore under his breath, trying to catch up with his thoughts as he watched more tentacles appear from the cloud. “Where the fuck are they coming from?” He muttered before swinging down to a lower building rooftop, crouching at the edge. He narrowed his eyes as he extended his hand out, shooting a web towards the centre of the cloud. There had to be something solid within this thing, something he can grip on to, something he can fight. But he was met with nothing. “Fuck.” He frowned before he began to crawl down the side of the building.

“You seem a bit jealous, mate!” JJ called out, watching as all eight of the tentacles seemed to snap their attention towards him. God, that was scary. “Don’t you have to tell me some wild origin story before you kill me?”

“MY AIM ISN’T TO KILL YOU, SPIDER-MAN. NOT YET!”

“Oh, that’s really reassuring, thank you so much.”

“I WANT NEW YORK TO SEE HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE. HOW USELESS THEIR SAVIOUR IS.”

“A bit of an odd wish, if you ask me.” He murmured to himself, quickly snapping his wrist before swinging around the black cloud. He watched as the tentacles reached out for him, just grazing him as he swung between the buildings.

“JJ, FIGHT BACK!”

“How the fuck do I fight something that isn’t solid? Get a vacuum? If you have one big enough, please do share. Call the ghostbusters or something!”

He heard more screams, some closer than he expected. He assumed everyone ran off, but when he turned his head to the side, he noticed a man standing there, frozen in fear. More importantly, he saw a car heading straight towards the scared man.

“Shit, shit, shit,” JJ yelled as he quickly yanked his web, spinning around and landing in front of the man, his hands extended out in front of him. Seconds later he felt the impact of the car, the weight and momentum it came crashing in at hit him strong enough to make him slide back a few feet. “Go, dude!” He yelled at the man, who had finally come to his senses and thanked JJ profusely before sprinting away. JJ groaned and threw the car away from him, huffing slightly.

“HOLY SHIT, JJ! THAT WAS A CAR!”

“Oh, no shit, Sherlock! I thought it was Barbie’s Dreamhouse.” Only JJ would be sarcastic while his life is in threat.

But it was that sarcasm that distracted him long enough for one of the tentacles wrap around his ankle, yanking him down from the small jump he had taken so the web he was currently gripping snapped with ease, preventing him a quick escape like he planned. He didn’t even have time to scream before he noticed the tentacle bringing him closer to the middle of the cloud, his eyes widening slightly.

He wiggled around in the tentacle’s grip, trying to find a way out but it was relentless. He wasn’t sure what was real or not, not sure if he imagined screaming in his head or if he actually did as he was dropped into the centre of the cloud.

Then, he felt nothing.

JJ was vaguely aware of his surroundings. He didn’t know if his eyes were open or not, but it was dark. He tried to move his arm, but it felt constricted, like he was swimming in something really thick. His brain was screaming at him to call out for Pope and John B, to move his hands and swing out of here, to do something. But another part of JJ felt completely content in this situation. He couldn’t explain it, but something washed over him, like a massive electric shock that made him aware of just how…familiar this seemed. It was similar to the feeling he had earlier.

He felt safe, understood.

And then that feeling was gone.

Suddenly, JJ found himself being thrown around in circles, something holding a tight grip on his ankle. But soon enough, that let go too and JJ was soon flying through the air, too out of it to even react fast enough to web onto something or soften his eventual crash.

JJ felt the air be completely knocked out of him, his body bouncing off the concrete a couple of times before he rolled over. It took him a few attempts to finally open his eyes, take in his surroundings, to see he was in some dingy alleyway. He turned his head to the side, briefly seeing a black blob in the distance. He could hear some muffled yelling.

“HEED THIS AS A WARNING, SPIDER-MAN. NEXT TIME WE MEET, IT WILL BE OUR LAST!”

JJ vaguely furrowed his eyebrows together before turning his head to stare at the blue sky above instead. When the ringing and the muffling was over, he could hear the screams of his friends coming through the earpiece.

“JJ! JJ, PLEASE FUCKING ANSWER, DUDE!”

“JJ, ARE YOU DEAD?!”

“WHY WOULD HE FUCKING ANSWER IF HE WAS DEAD!”

“SHUT UP, I’M FLUSTERED!”

JJ frowned a little, his whole throat felt dry and numb. There was also a metallic taste in his mouth that told him he must’ve bitten his tongue at some point. God, he hated the taste of blood. “It…It felt…”

“OH MY GOD, JJ!”

“IT FELT LIKE WHAT BUD? YOU GOOD?”

“It felt just like me.” He finally got out.

Then everything went black.

#jiara #outer banks #obx #jj maybank #kiara carrera #jj maybank x kiara carrera #outer banks fanfiction #jiara fanfiction #spiderman au #marvel #tale of a slightly unstable teen hero #obx fic #my fic

[iggy-of-fans]

Of Being Ladybug 11

Previous    Master Post

The cons of separating a team

{ J }

Jason groaned. His whole body felt heavy, his head throbbed painfully to the beat of his heart, his eyes couldn’t focus, and his tongue felt like it was taking over his mouth. ‘What happened?’ he asked himself as he slowly regained function of his body. ‘Where am I?’

“Red?” the voice came from somewhere to his right. Groggily he turned his head. Nothing. He frowned, looking to the left. Also nothing. A room without windows and doors?

“Red, come in!”

His ear… right! He had an earpiece.

“Bat?” His voice was raspy, his throat sore.

“Finally! I have been checking in every 30 minutes for four hours! What happened?” Black Bat exclaimed.

“No idea. I was watching you walk down the street and then nothing.”

“I can’t lock onto your signal; you must be somewhere underground. Can you see or hear anything to give me a location?”

“I’m in a room. No door. No window. Soundproof too, I think. Definitely the Horse thief” Jason mumbled, trying to find a seam or stress point to take advantage of.

“I’m calling for backup. Maybe Raven can get to you” and she was gone.

Jason sighed and settled in for a long wait.

 ( - - )

Luka sat across from Tim; the staring contest that had started a week ago continuing. Tim had been ready to rip the phone out of Vipereon’s hand (and in fact, had managed it, but Vipereon had used second chance and managed to evade the second time) to greet his “little sister”. He had let it be when he heard what Marinette had to say. She was going through a lot. Unsure of herself and just wanting something normal and familiar. Tim had ushered the others out of the room but had listened in on the conversation himself. Marinette was so lost and out of her depth.

An unwilling hero at thirteen, outed secret identity, trouble making friends, no time to just be, and then her parents abandon her, Diana only wanted to train Ladybug and was always so disappointed in Marinette, forcing her to be Maria, and then sending her away and abandoning her to Bruce and Alfred, whom she couldn’t trust, because she was forever alone. She wanted her friends and old life back.

He had relayed to Bruce about their conversation, hoping he had done the best with the information. Now he sat in front of Luka, trying to convince him that, no, he could not drop his hero responsibilities and go galivanting through the Zeta Tubes, just to see his “she’s-not-your-sister” sister.

“You are the team leader, Luka. They depend on you, not only because your power gives you the leg up, but because you are the only one that can reign them all in. Please understand” Tim tried again.

“She is not okay, Drake. Screw Paris! I don’t give a crap about this stupid city anymore! Marinette needs me!” Luka lashed out. Tim sighed. He looked at Luka’s tense posture and hard eyes. This might be what Luka needed to push him to be a better leader to his team.

“Three hours. And then you will be back here” Tim stated, relenting because he knew his sister needed this, “tell my sister I say hello.”

“She’s NOT your sister!” Luka growled, standing up.

“And she’s NOT your girlfriend! Marinette needs some familiarity now, I understand. But do not mistake this as permission to use her emotional dependency on you as your ticket into her pants!” Tim shouted. He’d been a teenager, dammit. He wasn’t even all that much older than Luka. He wouldn’t put it past any teenaged boy, hero or not.

Luka recoiled, as if punched.

“Never” he turned and slammed the door shut behind him. Tim sighed. He hadn’t had enough coffee for this shit.

<(**)>

Knave swung over Penguin’s head, dropping quietly behind him and taking out three gunmen with a few kicks and a throat punch. She threw a smoke bomb and Batman materialized to finish the job. A pathetically easy take down. Knave smirked. Batman nodded to Commissioner Gordon, stepping aside to allow him to take Penguin into custody.

Had Knave not already known how helpful it was to have an experienced vigilante to work with, she would have been mighty impressed now. Their take down time generally was approximately thirty to forty-five minutes. Granted, so far she had only faced the Riddler and Penguin, along with some regular burglars and criminals.

She sent out her grappling hook and swung off. She had her first science lab in the morning. She arrived at the cave in short order, pulling her hood down, she walked past Alfred to the ‘bat-shower’.

“Not even going to say hello?” a familiar voice spoke in French. She spun around and squealed when she saw Luka leaning against the computer. He smiled and held his hands out to her. She ran into him. Feeling his arms close around her in a hug, smelling the distinctly ‘Luka Couffaine’ scent, and hearing him hum a familiar tune… Marinette felt herself melt into him.

“I’ve missed you. Merde, I’ve missed you!” Marinette cried. Tears sprang to life, and she just stood in Luka’s embrace. For the first time in a year, it felt like nothing could go wrong.

“I hate to interrupt, but Batman is calling for Knave” Alfred stated, turning to the teens.

She sighed. So much for that shower.

“I’m not going anywhere” Luka stated, looking her in the eye and giving her a nod.

(--) 

When Luka finally did return, five hours late, he was all smiles. He hugged his sister for the first time that Tim had seen. He pulled out a guitar that he hadn’t know the boy owned. And he played a soft melody, with strong under tones of...something. He looked at the still unanswered text he had sent to Marinette a week ago.

“Welcome to the crazy house.”

Finally a reply was written by her.

“Thank you. I still don’t think I will be here long, but it is nice to feel like I belong somewhere again”

{ V }

In Paris, a butterfly themed person smiled viciously. For Adrien!

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#Of Being Ladybug #daminette #damien wayne x marinette #ml x dc #BAMF Marinette #maribat