BEFORE READING (PLEASE READ)

This story was inspired by AKCMangaka's fanart "AT Superhero Comic Design" on deviantart. Please take a look at the fanart because this entire story will make so much sense. I do not describe their costumes much because it's already drawn and I'm not much of a writer when it comes to articles of superhero clothing, especially the ones I drew already.

Read the description of the fanfic in your own accord, they might contain spoilers. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I will only say this once: I do not own AT. If I did, you would see more Fionna and Cake episodes.

Solace by Clematis Flair

Prologue

"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed. " -Carl Jung

There was no turning back.

He knew that; he knew that from the very start. He didn't want to submit to it; it wasn't his plan after he got out, out of that hell to never turn back.

The hooded larcenist stood up on the top of the tallest skyscraper of the city; he wasn't observing, he was just thinking. Was he going to do this for the rest of his life, he wondered. The routine for the rest of his life was never promising. Nothing good came into his life as he just wandered from city to city. It wasn't an option, it was a must to migrate so much and not stay in one place; if he stayed in one place too much, too many people would suffer, and he would be caught by the police or superheroes of their own cities. Either way, he wasn't planning to get caught; he never wanted to start this fiasco from the first place. He tried to stop his routine, he did everything he could, but nothing stopped him from his bleak routine. He never wanted to hurt people nor anything else. He never wanted to submit to commit, to feel disgusting about himself. He never asked for this kind of life where he had no freedom but to commit to his routine. Nothing was going right.

His cape gracefully fluttered with the wind. He came back to focus mode, his eyes stern with concentration. Tonight he was going to do what he does best: going against God's will. He would probably steal a couple of priceless artifacts and kill a person or two. He was best at stealing and was already used to killing many. No, it's not as if he was a heartless person; it's in his blood. His blood was the source of all evil in his very being.

His blood was the answer to all questions. All the larcenist was able to do by his own free will was to live; suicide was not an option.

He planted on his mask, ruffled his hair, and returned his hood back on his head. Tonight, the remaining debris of heavy storm clouds floated above the city. The myriad colors of the city lights reflected on the belly of the clouds, heavily defining the city of Aaa: the most colorful city of the entire world. However, to the larcenist, the color mesh was too messy for his taste.

Taking two steps, he leaped off the top of the skyscraper and flew south. Up to this point, he gave no thought on where he was going to raid; all he had to do was improvise because he always succeeded. Giving no consideration, he spotted a museum from afar and decided to steal from there.

As the museum was at a closer view, at the corner of his eye, he spotted something white falling from the sky. Curious, he tilted his head up to that direction and saw someone falling to the ground from hundreds of feet up.

If it were up to his blood, he would've let that person fall and let his distasteful blood be satisfied by death.

And yet, as the girl fell closer and closer to her demise, the larcenist felt an unusual spark in his heart, as if he felt his heartbeat for the first time. His heart reacted violently, telling him to fly over, to save her. This was the first time his blood was his secondary instinct. Contradicting natures clashed, a war started in his soul; he felt explosions of overpowering energies assaulting each other. For the first time, his blood was not winning; the larcenist, without second thoughts, immediately flew over and caught the person in his arms.

Raising his eyebrows, he recognized who she was: it was Super Fionna, the superheroine of the city. She was not present for the past week and suddenly fell from the sky. The larcenist questioned such random happenings and was curious as to why he, out of all people, was to be tangled in the middle of the situation. What was he supposed to do? Was he going to hand her over to the police? Should he let her die?

The larcenist decided to fly her home. This was the first time a good nature was dominating his very being; who knew what would happen if his blood suddenly rushed back in control? Super Fionna was a good kid; she didn't deserve such meritless death.

Peeking into her mind, he didn't expect himself to suddenly soak in EVERYTHING she was (maybe his powers were out of control after something paranormal happened to him). The larcenist blushed a bit, chuckling under his breath, knowing TOO much about the teenage girl: she was sixteen; she became unconscious during her flight back home; she had the cliché superpowers of Superman (but no heat vision); she still regrets her mistake of her superhero name "Super Fionna" because of a super stupid mistake; she 5'5.5 feet tall; she had size B's but they were still growing, she was a tomboy but once in a while she wishes to be extremely beautiful and dress up like any other beautiful girl would; she's relieved she'd grown skinner over the years; she's curious as to how she's very skinny and yet doesn't seem as muscular as the superheroines of the comics (maybe it's just her genes); she was not excited to make up all the work she'd missed from school because of her week long mission; she was pondering about her feelings for a fellow team member and was not too sure if she's infatuated or her female hormones were making her distracted into stupid assumptions; no matter what she was thinking about, she was excited to see the one person she was deeply in love with, her crush since she was very, very young.

Fionna was just like any normal teenage girl... except having superpowers, being a superheroine, and having an interesting past and present. Women were creatures the larcenist was never able to fully understand, no matter if he reads their minds or not.

He took a closer look at the heroine: the first appearance his eyes were set on was her pale, creamy skin. They were in a beautiful shade of white and pale pink, looking healthy and desirable. Her blonde bangs outside her bunny hat were gleaming like luminescent silk. He had to admit, she was in good shape: she was toned, she was skinny enough, and not overly muscular like the super females in the comics. His left hand carrying her back, his right carrying her legs, her lips in a rose blush, he was starting to worry his blood was going to suddenly force him to become hungry with lust. Shaking his head, he started to fly her home.

Wasting no time, he tracked down her street house on the west district of the city in a calm, peaceful neighborhood. It was a beautiful street she lived at: for a city housing street, it was spacious and wide, surrounded by small trees and lots of green. The larcenist remembered which house was hers: it was a redbrick street house with the entrance accompanied by two trees, one on each side. Making sure he found the right bedroom, he opened the window and floated inside, Fionna still in his arms.

Yep, this is the right bedroom, he told himself. He hovered over to her bed and set Fionna down on her covers. Helping her take her boots and long gloves off, he next took off her bunny hat, becoming captivated by her long, blonde waves, spewing out. How can a mere human have such refined hair, he wondered. Picking up a lock, he played with her silk-like hair. He loved how it felt to the touch and wished to play with it forever. But time stopped for no one. He decided to leave after finally taking off her mask.

He observed her eyelashes, long and darker in color than her hair. Looking at her face from the bigger picture, without any mask to cover up her eyes, she was statuesque. The silhouette of her face caused larcenist resist his urge to cup his hands on her cheeks and take a closer, more personal look.

Fionna's undisturbed sleeping expression left him in distress: he didn't want to leave but had to before his blood boiled for obedience. He felt his heart and his good nature dying down and telling him he had to leave, quickly.

Enduringly, he got up, about to walk to the open window.

But before he did, he glanced at her one last time. He knew he was going to see her again, he knew they were going to see each other face to face; however, he knew the next time they met, this moment was the first and last time of peace. The larcenist knew Fionna was going to be his opponent in the near future that was going to come too soon…

He closed the window behind him, floating back to the high skies. He felt his blood slowly grasping him, warning him what would happen if he didn't obey his very own blood. At that moment, it asked for its daily dose of sin, for the larcenist had to steal, kill, and injure.

His sojourn away from his routine was long over. The larcenist flushed all his emotions away and took action.

Didn't I tell you the fanart will help?

Thanks so much for reading, I deeply appreciate it!

Reviews are always welcome! I will love to hear your thoughts, whether or not you liked it OR if I made a grammatical error somewhere.

Until next time!