the city came alive

Okay but Cat came back to National City because she was lonely and the first time she’s alone with Supergirl (now confirmed that Cat knew she was talking to Kara), she tells her that human connection and love are the most important things in the world. Then the first time she’s alone with Kara, she tells her she read all of Kara’s articles even though she was in the Himalayas, and went out of her way to compliment Kara’s improved writing. What I’m trying to say is that no one will ever be able to convince me that Cat Grant isn’t totally, canonically in love with Kara Danvers. 

Edit: And with the way Kara was looking at Cat during that pep talk, I’d like to assume that Kara is just as far gone and those feelings have been reawakened now that a certain piece of white bread is gone. 

"I gotcha."

It was Jason Todd, of all people, who finally got the baby to fall asleep. Jason Todd, the gun-toting, reformed mercenary, abrasive, “even death couldn’t kill me”, brash, most in-your-face member of the family.

They had tried everything.

Dick had played peek-a-boo and pat-a-cake with the baby. He had tried tickling, cuddling, silly voices… but the baby had only cried even more.

Tim had put on some classical music: Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin… claiming that it would make them both sleepier and smarter. The baby began to scream.

Steph had dangled various toys in front of the baby’s face, making weird faces at it and cooing ‘who’s a good little baby?’ over and over and over until the others told her to STOP. 

Damian had attempted hypnosis on the little human, and when that failed, insisted that they give it a dose of tranquilliser from the batcave; an idea that was considered, then quickly shot down.

They had called Babs, who protested she knew nothing about babies, but suggested they ‘feed it or something’. No amount of baby formula stopped the crying, which was, by now, distressed and once again verging on screaming. 

Alfred had even stepped in, fussing over the child as he felt behind the neck to check the baby’s temperature. He asked the routine questions regarding nappies and feeding and such. He put the child down in the cot, suggesting they try the ‘controlled crying method’, and chided them for spoiling the baby by answering to their every beck and call. But after fifteen minutes, even Alfred had to admit he was at a loss. 

Bruce was called as a joke, but as soon as he heard the baby’s crying in the background he said “I can’t take anymore!”— his voice sounding slightly desperate, if not forced— and hung up on them.

Cass came the closest of all of them, gently dancing around the room with the baby in her arms, humming softly. But as soon as she stopped, the crying started again.

Then, Jason arrived. 

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“I’ve lived around here my entire life, always uneasy because my worst fears could come true around any corner of this city. Tonight was the night my nightmares came alive, so I am so thankful that you saved me.” You say, looking up into the red masked man, smiling slightly.

“I’ll always keep you safe.” You hear, but when you look up, he’s gone. 

[Worlds Apart]

Series: Fairy Tail.
Pairing: Gajevy.
AU: City!AU.
Dedication: blanania

A/N: Happy Birthday Grace!! I wanted to write something for your city au because it was so cute and I know you liked it a lot. I hope you have the best day, you deserve to be spoiled. I love you!! <3 <3

Books littered the floor of Levy’s otherwise immaculate dorm room. The sound of pages turning crept into the silence. She’d read all of them numerous times, their content forever written into her very being. Honestly, at this point, the words weren’t even registering properly. Her eyes skimmed one page after the other, their meaning a dull throb in her mind. 

Beyond her dorm room – the great city of Crocus came alive with the sound of students flitting to class and the occasional car rushing by. The early hours of the morning were sacred to Levy. She had time to read and to think and to plan out her day. Today, however, she couldn’t lift a finger. Every now and then her eyes would slip to the dormant cell phone sitting by her elbow.

Why hadn’t he called her yet? Gajeel always called her in the morning, it was her only free time. The rest of Levy’s day belonged to classes and hours of studying. 

“Stupid Gajeel,” she muttered, “How could you forget me today of all days?”

The breeze rattled the blinds as it fluttered into the room. Every sound betrayed the silence and, with it, Levy’s hopes that Gajeel might call. Snatching her phone from the ground, she scrolled for his name and lingered over the dial option. Would it be weird if she called him? No, that’s not true. It wasn’t weird for a couple to call one and other. The last time she’d seen him, Levy had teased and tormented Gajeel about their childhood ‘wedding’. 

The result had been a boisterous confession.

When she’d returned to the city, Levy had thought their relationship would be different. That they’d keep in touch more and, well, that he might open up to her a little more. With a sigh, she locked her phone and rolled onto her back. Both arms spread wide onto the many surrounding books as her eyes roamed the ceiling. From where she lay, Levy could see the charm he’d made her dangling from the overhanging light. A metal chain hung from the frame and, swinging from the very end, was a crimson stone. It reminded her of his eyes.

She couldn’t stand it any longer. Rolling onto her front, Levy seized her phone and proceeded to dial her missing boyfriend. It was okay for her to miss him this much, wasn’t it? She missed her friends and called them, how was this any different? But then, this was Gajeel. It was too late to panic. His voice drawled through the speaker. He sounded exhausted.

“Um, Gajeel?”

Oi, Shrimp, what’re you calling me this early in the morning for?

“But… you always call me at this time.”

I do? 

Levy was dumbfounded. Inhaling a sharp breath, she balanced the phone between her cheek and shoulder and went about gathering the books she needed for class. All the while, Gajeel made it abundantly clear that he was exhausted with a string of yawns and sighs.

“If I’m such a bother,” she started, piling books on her desk, “Then I’ll just hang up and you can go back to sleep.”

That’d be great.

“Do you even know what day it is, Gajeel?”

It’s Thursday, he grumbled.

Levy blanched. “Yes, but it’s also my–” there was a beep and the call ended “–Birthday.” 

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I love coming here. It’s a nice place to escape when the world gets on top of you. There’s something about sitting on a high point, watching the city alive at night underneath you. I came up with here with a friend to vibe. The photo does the view no justice.

Here was a delicious day. That was how they described it at the time: delicious

An Uncle had come to free them from the confines of their very dreary family lessons. He brought his pup, a large and black and friendly thing that they both adored. He took them to a spot near a river, in some magic-lit section of the city, and there they rode a carousel where all the animals came alive and talked to them as they whirled around and around.

A brief spat marred the perfect day. Was the better animal the very solid lion which would not leap about? One youth – named for lions – said it was, because it was steadfast and true, and besides this it gave one no fright to ride such a majestic creature, fixed and steady on his pole. The lion licked him in thanks.

The other boy preferred the moving animals. He said that no, no; better to choose the snapping wolf, or, naturally, the snake. But the snake had a bite. This settled the argument. And rather put the older boy off of snakes for the very first time. Not the last.

Soothing ice cream followed, pumpkin flavored for one and for the other chocolate with caramel sauce. They walked along the river, and came on some children sledding – children who were ordinary and forbidden and therefore exciting – and begged their Uncle if they could join in. They could. The ordinary children asked: were they wearing costumes? 

It was a funny question. They laughed and laughed. They didn’t notice the spells their uncle cast afterwards, to make the ordinary children forget, to make the memory slide away. They didn’t realize, young as they were, that memories could do that, that memories are silvery and insubstantial by nature.

When they returned, a beautiful cousin, her eyes as blue as the river (which was so blue on that day, blue as the sky, so perfect they swore they’d never forget it), asked them what kind of day they’d had. And they said, unselfconsciously, without a trace of that embarrassment that comes upon older boys caught using posh accents and silly baby terms, that it was a delicious one. 

But the younger boy did forget, perhaps because he had a weak mind, or perhaps simply because he’d been very young at the time. The older one did not – not the animals and their lessons, not the ordinary children, not the kindness of the Uncle, not the blueness of the river.

Not until he should face the Dementors, who came with gaping maws and cloaks fluttering open to show their empty black hunger. They took the delicious memories first.

remember being a kid and how the city came alive when you visited it and every building seemed taller than the last and every person you passed on the street was full of stories you would never get to hear and it drove you crazy to think about it. standing on top of the world, taller than london, but smaller than ever. it’s windy and cold but you think this is the closest you’ve ever been to really flying. the closest you’ve been to freedom. - 27th April 2016

vagabond ; michael au { pt 6 }

part five 

Dahlia silenced her alarm quickly, groaning into the darkness of her bedroom. Even though she frequently worked the morning shift, she never really was a morning person. She rolled out of bed quickly, clicking on her light. She grabbed her doorknob, but hesitated. It was then that she remembered Michael was in her living room fast asleep.

She opened the door slowly, peering out into the dim room. Light from the moon that still hung in the sky shone through the windows and onto Michael’s face. He was peaceful in his slumber, his lips slightly parted as he snored softly. His black hair stuck out at odd angles across the stark whiteness of the pillow.

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Awakened // Steve and Pietro

About a week after the attack the service was held, the rain was heavy the whole week following the young twins death. Wanda hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone but Vision after it all happened. His body was kept below the new shield base until a clear day came.

As Wanda tossed the dirt and the funeral closed the team went their separate ways. Nat returned to the academy, Clint returned home, Bruce was gone, and Tony wondered the tower. The world was somewhat calm, allowing the hero’s to rest.

The rain started again, that’s when he blinked. The casket was dark but comfy and warm, he closed his eyes wishing to return to his dreamlike state. As the wood creaked and water began to seep through he stirred. Using what little energy left he had Pietro ripped open the top, after a fee hours of struggle he surfaced. The full moon was blinding to the twins eyes.

Images of faces and her scream rung in his ear. His chest felt like it was tearing back open with each step, blood soaked the tux he had been put in.

After a few miles of walking he came across the city, lit up bright and alive. Walking into its depths he found himself in the older side of town, a name came to him. Steve. Then an address. The file he had been given about the solider flashed across his vision. Stumbling toward the building he rode the elevator up, Steve.

Knocking on the door he heard the door creak, seeing the blonde he stared silently. Images returned and his chest finally began to hurt, the blood dropped around his feet, “Steve.”

Olicity: Calling to humanity.
[Disclaimer: The gifs are not mine! If you know that these are your gifs please let me know so I can give you proper credit.] First off, Oliver’s face after Felicity says ‘I’m not going to wait with you’ kills. It legitimately kills. Anywho, moving on. This scene was gold. More than heroism, this scene is everything that this television show lay it’s foundation on: humanity.  Oliver compartmentalized everything since the island. If he didn’t, if he let himself have the luxury to fall apart and feel, he would be long gone dead. What makes us have humanity is the capability to feel, to love, to be compassionate and caring (looking at you S1-S3 TVD, you knew when your show was still good). Oliver completely strips those pieces of humanity off of him, and unlike weight, it’s so much easier to lose your humanity than to gain it back. For so long Oliver was this killer and using one of my favorite Nikita quotes, once you kill someone it “takes away a part of you you can never get back.” And exactly how many people have Oliver killed? 20? More?  But what made Oliver become this.. other person? Let’s rewind it all: death. He literally sees his father commit suicide in front of his eyes. From there on out death was tangible, tapping at his back with every breath he took. But sometimes what screws us most are the things that we never prepare for. When Oliver faced the reality that he has to survive the island, he sought himself to live, to fight because if he didn’t, he would die. The mortality of his life was always in his mind, a constant reminder that he either was going to live or die on that island, he was prepared for either. But what did he not anticipate? He didn’t anticipate the death of the other people around him. When that constantly happens around you, death doesn’t become the tragedy of life, it becomes normalcy, mundane. Before you know it, you’re numb to the pain. You don’t feel. You just do what you have done the day before, try to survive. But is surviving really living? No. It’s not. You survive to live. You don’t live to survive. Adding another one of my favorite quotes, this time around from The Hunger Games Trilogy, “It takes more than that to keep a person going once [they’ve] lost the will to live.” So when Oliver came back alive to Starling City? He was still dead. Inside anyways. But then Season 1 Episode 3 he walks into Felicity’s office and she’s the first person he sees as a person. Not a liability, not a threat or a target, but a person. A happy little ball of life quirking her head to the side when she catches his bullshit lie. Happy little ball of life was the comical relief with her Freudian slips and cute little personality quirks. She was the one who helped him realize he could be a better person than killing all those people. She was the one of the only two to believe in him when others turned their backs on him. She was the person to urge him to never give up. She was the one who, for the first time since the island, Oliver romantically professes his love for. Then happy little ball of life is put on the medic table and everything comes crashing down.

Death is tangible again. It’s in the air. In fact, it really was in the air.

Then the knife, more accurately an arrow, is twisted by an actual death. A surprising death. Then there it is again, a body on that table.

Oliver is catapulted back to what I like to call, the island isolation mentality. Everyone he’s ever cared for he loses, his father, Sara, Yao Fe, Shado, Slade, Sara again, Tommy, his mother, and Sara yet again. The list goes on and on. So what does he do? He pushes them away. As much as it is to keep them “safe” it’s also a coping mechanism. Because let’s face it you guys, how much death can a person take until they have to go into a psych ward? But this time it’s a little different because he has experienced happiness since the island. A blissful 5 months when he was on top of the world. He was a hero. Like I’ve said, it’s harder to re-gain the things you have lost, and analogous to another quote from Holes,“ It’s the second hole that’s harder to dig.” So when his world comes crumbling back down again, it’s a comes crumbling a little harder. More rubbles.  He sets himself on default. And what was his default? To be numb. Numb the pain so you can live through it. But. That. Is. Not. Living. And here comes the Olicity 3x02 scene. Line for line, Felicity reminds Oliver that he is human, that he has feelings, 

that he should be able to process and feel those emotions, and that he has a life to live. 

She reminds Oliver, for goodness sakes, this was his Sara.

The Sara that lived and died with him on that boat and the Sara that lived and died with him on the island. If there’s anyone else in this world who knows how painful those 5-years were, it’s Sara. And like the connection between Laurel and Oliver to Tommy, the island is the connection between Sara and Oliver. You can never just take those things away. They’re a crucible. It becomes a part of you. You can’t re-write them. You have to process and move on. So if there’s anyone who’s more connected to Oliver through all the shit he’s gone through, It’s Sara. To have that deep connection with someone as such, Oliver should practically be flipping shit upside down.  But he’s not. Because he’s gone back to his default mode. So when Felicity is reminding him that he doesn’t have to compartmentalize  his emotions and that he can break down as much other people are, she’s calling to Oliver. Oliver may be unmasked in that scene but he’s still wearing the Arrow costume because this was his choice. To push aside 'Oliver Queen’ to become the Arrow instead. 2 different people.  But Felicity knows better. She knows that just because he is wearing the costume doesn’t mean he can’t be human because he is a 'superhero’. No.  To be a hero, you sacrifice what it takes to do good. To want to do good and differentiate it from wrong, you must have a moral compass. And what are the measurements of a moral compass? Right and wrong? Fundamentally, how do we define right from wrong? From our emotions. And in the simplicity of it all, If it doesn’t feel good, it’s wrong. If it does, it’s right. Sometimes the only way to validate our existence in this world is through our emotions.  “So damnit Oliver, FEEL!” Felicity practically yells, “feel because you’re alive!"  That there folks, is Felicity literally calling to Oliver. To his humanity. Because numbing yourself of the pain, isn’t living.

The important thing though, Oliver already knows that being the Arrow and living this life, he’s going to die sooner rather than later.

He’s come into terms with that. Shit, he’s come into terms with that 8 years in the making. He’s not scared to die. What he is scared though, is to live. To love. To feel. Death is easy, living is harder. A soul that is already dead is not a life lived, it’s a life wasted. Then we have Felicity with this incredible line:

She gets it too. She knows that with what they do, it’s a risky life; life and death, everyday. Their mortality rate are significantly lower than you average human being. But does that mean just because she knows that they’re going to die one of these days that she’s going to waste her life? No. She explicitly says that "life is precious” and that even though she does do the saving the city at night, she still lives and will live her life. Mind you, on a lower scale and more subtle way, she has a second identity too. Though unlike Oliver, she knows the difference and more importantly the balance between the Felicity Smoak daytime average joe and Felicity Smoak nighttime hacker.  Oliver doesn’t say anything and lets her walk away.

Walk away she must. Remember folks, by the commandment that is of John Diggle’s quote:

Are they the right fit right now? No. Oliver has to find himself. And who he truly is. Not billionaire Oliver Queen or the Arrow, but a person. A man. As simple as that. And once he’s found that balance between Oliver Queen and the Arrow, he’s also found the balance between his obligations and wants and needs. Then will the words of the almighty John Diggle come true: “You can stare down death with something to live for or not. Something to live for is better.”He can finally live. This is how you construct an EPIC love, love that isn’t driven by lust or just the physical attraction or even the emotional pull of two people to each other. No. This is the basis and foundations of humanity, understanding each other’s soul and connecting with it. And once you do, everything else is a byproduct. You look into each other’s eyes and see each other’s soul knowing that you two are connected in ways that if one person would hurt, so will the other. It’s a binding love, love in its rawest, most pure form. It’s what love should be.