#spiritsandhexes

                 “----- I’m a good actress, Jessica, but even I’m not      that good,” the Magician muses with a playful wink. “It’s been      said, so we can either acknowledge it and move on, or      acknowledge it and do something about it.” Biting her lower lip,      Zatanna took a stride towards the woman, cupping her hands      around the other’s jaw. “----- You know, if you had just asked me,                         I think you’d be pretty content with my answer.”

“---I spent my entire life with that name. And I didn’t even know it until a year ago where it came from. Seems almost ironic now” @damnitward

“Whatever you say, Oli. Though must you get knocked down so often? ” @negatingspirit

“---if you say so. At some point waiting just becomes stalling. Or so i’m told” although she also knew she wasn’t the type who was meant for long term missions. Ever || @ofmcnstcrs

     “Cam--- Cammie?” A peaceful slumber was interrupted by      faint rustling, as the Johnson-Ward awoke to the image of      her beautiful best friend gazing over her. “I must’ve ---- Fallen      asleep, I’m sorry,” she whimpered, stifling a soft yawn.                                                     “What’ve you been up to, love?”

                 “I didn’t require help, Sir ----” Teeth clenched, breathing      steady. She wouldn’t panic, couldn’t panic. She wasn’t at      H.Y.D.R.A. anymore. And even if she was ----- Drew could      handle it. This. She would handle anything. Another moment      passed, and finally, she felt the wound fully stitched. “I’m sorry      for making you come out here to help me. You didn’t have      to -----” But he had come to her aid, her father always did.      He loved her. “Thank you, Dad.” Eyes diverted downward,      not because of the physical pain. “For everything.”

     “I did not mean to imply that you DO NOT,”      Blake insinuated. “But ---- You are my friend,      as well, mon amour.”

     A sadistic glance to the crimson on her hands merited      but a wry expression from the Carter-Rogers. With a      dismissive wave of the question, she shot a glance      backwards, focusing on the body now laying listless      on the ground. “His,” was all Blake offered with a shrug.