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miraculous-trinity-leo · 3 years

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Whacky Gotham, Goofy New York, and Chaotic Paris.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Chapter 5: Then Let The Games Begin

•—–—–·†·–—–—•

Soooo, the Batfam is panicking, Gotham's confused as to why Iron Man is flying over Gotham like a madman, and Maria is with two of Gotham's Sirens (but only Ivy and Harley know this) having a wonderful time playing with Bud and Lou.

Let's start with the Sirens.

Harley is watching over Maria and Tikki as they sleep with Bud and Lou, Ivy walkes over to sit next to Harley, handing her a cup of tea.

"So, what's the diagnosis?" - Ivy

"She has some sort of trauma, has class issues... and handles more than she should, but still does everythin', on top of bein' a hero. She's been through some sh-t Pam." Yeah Harley may have found out Maria's a hero (if the tiny god and magic were anything to go by).

"Is she alone?" - Ivy

"No, thankfully, she has supportive parents, and friends that aren't little sh-ts. I think they're also heroes, she also has a lot, and I a mean A LOT of pent up emotions, she doesn't show anythin' negative, only positive things. She seems to shrink in on herself if she thinks she does somethin' wrong. Pam, we both know there's a limit to how much crap a person can take before they snap, and she's such a sweet kid. There has to be somethin' we can do to help her Ives." Ok she found out alot, but in Marias' defense, they have trustworthy souls, and they were the only other people (besides her friends) that she talked to about it, yes she had her Maman and Uncle to talk about hero stuff, but for the stuff her class does, she only ever vented (without being negative) to her friends.

"Her class is visiting the Botanical Gardens in three days, and it's a 2 part tour, so we can see just what's going on. If it's bad then we scare them a bit, if it's bad bad... they can handle a few slightly poisonous plants right?" - Ivy

"God I love the way ya think Ives, do ya think she can stay with us? I mean look at how cute she is with Bud and Lou... Oh my god, she's cuddlin' dem, and ya gave her a flower crown, how'd I miss that?! Where's the camera?"

Harley took a picture to remind her of this wonderful moment. As Ivy and Harley looked at the picture, they both promised to keep Maria safe, and maybe become sorta kinda-ish parents to her while she's in Gotham.

•—–·Now back to the Bat-Chaos Bat-Cave·–—•

Tim took over the chair and was now searching the possible locations with Jarvis, Damian was sitting on a different chair, trying to act cool, but he wouldn't stop looking over at Tim, to see his progress. Bruce was talking over the comms with Tony. Dick and Jason, weren't helping (they kept feeding each other worse and worse ideas of what could have happened to Maria). Then they heard Jarvis speak.

"I have found the most likely area Ms. Dupain-Cheng would be in. Her phone died about 56 blocks away from her hotel, if we don't count kidnapping, or murder, she would have thought about asking for directions, but may have decided not to considering the city she is in. So that leaves us with a possible 15-25 mile radius from her last known location. I think it best to divide into groups of two, have Oracle stay and update you if anything on security, and or traffic cameras happens. Bruce will be with Tony, Dick will go with Tim, and Jason will go with Damain to search within the area. Stephanie and Cassandra will search around a 5 mile radius near Wayne hotel." as Jarvis continued to explain the other details, the Batfam began to suit up, Batman met up with Iron Man, and they took the North area, Nightwing and Red Robin took the East area, while Red Hood and Robin searched the South. Steph and Cass were on foot in civilian clothes, searching the West area they were assigned.

They searched for the whole day, and came up with nothing. Until Oracle saw a video from a traffic cam around 9pm, 15 blocks away from where her phone died. She called it in and everyone went back to the cave. Once everyone was at the Bat-Computer, Oracle pressed play, the cameras didn't have sound, and it wasn't close enough to see if she was ok.

They watched as she went to an overgrown parking lot and sat down. She was looking down at the ground, and that's when they spotted two figures round the corner and spot her. They watched as the two figures approach Maria, and saw the startled reaction she had. They realized it was Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy that were talking to her, then they saw Maria collapse. They watched as Harley made sure she was ok, looking over to Ivy before looking back to Maria and picking her up. The last thing they saw, was Maria being carried away by two of Gothams' most dangerous rouges, but now they knew where to look next.

•—–· Back to Ivy and Harley ·–—•

Harley continued to take adorable pictures of the children.

"God, they're so f-ckin' cute!" - Harley for the 20th time

As Ivy continued to watch while caring for her plants, Catwoman walked in.

"Hey girls, got the stuff for movie night, so what are we- Holy mother of cats! He adopted another f-cking child didn't he! Where the hell does he keep finding them?! 7 was ment to be the god DAMN LIMIT!!!" - Catwoman

Maria jumped at the sudden shouting and may have accidentally summoned a yo-yo (one made useing creation magic and protection magic) before saying.

"Tikki where's the akuma?! How long was I out?! Forget it Tikki spot-" she then realized she wasn't in Paris, and seeing a new face, she also realized she just spilled her secret to another person within the same day... kinda

"Fffffffffffudge sunday that fell on the pavement!" - Maria shouted in baker profanities

"That's not how ya curse sweetheart. It should go more like-" Harley was cut off by a vine Ivy had summoned.

"Harley, cursing makes the plants sad, you know this." - Ivy said removing the vine

Harley just walked over to Maria and whipsered it in her ear.

"You're supposed to say it more like this, ' ..... .... ... .. ....... .. ... .....' ok?" - Harley ended with a big smile

"... I will never see this world in the same frickin' light ever again." - Maria

"ehh close enough." - Harley

"Can someone please tell me, WTH is going on here, on our special girls day off?!" - Catwoman

"She is a new member of the Sirens as of today, and as a member, she's unda our protection, so effective immediately." - Harley

"Cool." - Maria

"Harley." - Ivy

"Wut... first things first, if she is going to join, she needs to be very flexible, know how to fight, and be incredibly intelligent." - Catwoman

"She beat Ed's @ss with a gun pointed at her, and solved every riddle with ease, so I'm positive she'll be an amazin' addition to the team." - Harley

'God she sounds like a new mother now' "But we don't know how good her flexibility is." - Catwoman

"I know, hey Maria, ya wanna do some tricks with me, of course we need to stretch first, but do ya wanna give it a go?" - Harley

"Sure." - Maria

Ivy and Catwoman sat down on a couch a few feet away from where Maria and Harley stood in the empty part of the building. They started out with stretches, and to Catwoman's surprise (and Harley's delight) Maria copied Harleys streches perfectly.

"Ok, now that that's done, we'll start with some cartwheels, then move on to flips, then handsprings and so on." - Harley

Maria gave Harley a nod... and they were off... literally, Harley did a cartwheel into a handspring, and a few backflips, Maria executed it flawlessly. Harley did some more complicated gymnastics tricks, and Maria did it, Harley did triple backflips going into a cartwheel, into a summersault, and Maria did that perfectly as well. This went on until both Harley and Maria were slightly out of breath, both having massive smiles on their faces.

"Ives, please let her join, she's like a mini me." - Harley then hugged Maria and they somehow both tripled in cuteness as they both did puppy (or Puss In Boots style) eyes at Catwoman and Ivy.

"Sure Harley." - Ivy said walking over to give Harley a small kiss on the cheek.

"Okay... but she doesn't have a costume yet, and she still has to think of a name for herself." - Catwoman

"Is a mouse good, like a mouse themed costume, that or a Turtle themed one. What do you think Harley?" - Maria

"Mmmm, I like that with the mouse you can always toy with Cat, ya know, cat an' mouse stuff, turtle seems... weird even fawh Gotham, so personally I would pick mouse, just because of the cheesy jokes you could do." - Harley

"Very funny, ok then, give me a moment." Maria then reached out her hand, her eyes then started to glow an icy blue, and a small portal opened in front of her, she reached in and pulled out a small pendant necklace. After she put it on a small mouce appeared and greated itself, Marias' eyes going back to normal after closing the portal.

"Hello I'm Mullo, nice to meet you all."

"Omg omg omg, It's soooo f-ckin' CUTE!" - Harley

"Best to assume all of them are extremely cute Harls." - Ivy

"What the Hell did I miss in the week I was gone?!" - Catwoman

"Ehh, not much, oh but Iron Man did fly aroun' Gotham a few times earlier this mornin' like a madman." - Harley

"Oh sh-t." - Maria

"Maria are ya ok? That was ya first official proper curse in my presence." Harley said looking over to the girl.

"He's gonna kill me." - Maria

"Wait, what do you mean Marigold?" - Ivy

"... He's my Uncle, and I never got to text him I was ok, since my phone died before I met you." - Maria

"Hey, I'm sure he'll understand, now what are we watchin'?" - Harley

"I think we have more important matters other than movies at the moment!" - Catwoman

"Ok, Me Myself and Irene it is." - Harley

"No! You basically kidnapped Iron Mans' NIECE!!!" - Catwoman

"Technically, she fainted and us bein' the good Gothamites we are, decided to take her with us, to make sure she was a-okay." - Harley

"I'm ganna need more than just a six pack of soda to get me through this... Just put the movie on already." - Catwoman

Catwoman sat at the far left end of the couch, next to her sat Ivy, then Maria, and then Harley, Bud and Lou by their feet. All of them sharing one big blanket (Becuase if Iron Man did show up, or any of the birds, then Maria was in a protective burrito and they may not see her right away) and they started the movie.

•—–·–—•

"Oh god, the poor cow." - Maria

.........

"Hahahaha, he stuck a whole f-ckin' chicken head in that guys @ss" - Harley

"The poor chicken." - Maria

"Maria you don't want to see this part." - Ivy then lightly covered her eyes for the ehem, chicken extraction.

.........

"Anyone up for another movie?" - Harley

"That depends." - Ivy

"Any suggestions Cat?" - Harley looked across to the other end of the couch to see Catwoman already sleeping.

"She took her cat-nap already? Seriously?" - Harley

"... What about Pirates of The Caribbean?" - Maria

"I'm good with that." - Ivy

And they started the next movie, Maria was happy, it felt like when her maman and papa would sleep with her when she made a pillow fort. It was a loving atmosphere, it felt safe, and nothing could ruin it. Marias' eyes became heavy, and she leaned her head on Harleys' shoulder, falling asleep after a few minutes.

Ivy paused the move looking over to see both Harley and Maria sleeping, soon Ivy also fell asleep in the comfortable silence.

…………………………

Around an hour later Maria woke up in a panic, she had a nightmare, and kept looking around frantically for someone with tears running down her face.

"What's the matter hun?" - Harley said looking around to see if someone had gotten in. When she looked back at Maria she saw that she was crying.

"What happened?" Harley asked in a kind voice that was filled with motherly love.

"I, just *hic* had a bad dream that's *hic* all, I'm fine." - Maira said trying to wipe the tears away.

"You're ok, I promise nothin's goin' to happen to ya as long as Ivy and I are here, ok hun?" - Harley hugged Maria, and she could feel the girl let out a few more sobs, and quick breathes.

"Thanks Maman." Maria didn't even realize what she had said, it just felt natural for her to say it.

"You're welcome hun." 'Omg I'm gonna cry, she called me maman!' Harley rubbed small circles over Marias' back, and began humming until she fell asleep, she continued to hug Maria until she also fell asleep.

•—–· Back to the Chaos Bat-Cave ·–—•

"What do you mean she's with two of Gotham City's Sirens?!" - Tony

"Tony, calm down, I'll call Selina, she can talk to them and get this all sorted out." - Bruce

"Your fiancee is a Gotham Siren too?! Why didn't you tell me?!" - Tony

"Why isn't she picking up? And unlike some people, this family doesn't like outing our secret identities... on live TV." - Bruce

"Oh well excuse me for not keeping my secret identity a SECRET!" - Tony

"I'll try calling her one more time." - Bruce

"Bruce, it's 3am. Who in their right mind ever stays up this late.... aside from this family." - Tim with a giant coffee mug in hand.

"... I'll just call her one more time." Bruce then connected it to the Bat-Computer so everyone could hear.

•—–· Back to the Sirens ·–—•

Catwoman's phone is ringing like crazy, waking everyone up, including a tired, annoyed, and confused Selina.

"Wth does he want at 3 in the morning?!" - Selina

"Just answer it so we can keep sleepin'." - Harley still hugging Maria

"I'm putting it on speaker, so you lot can testify against his @ss in court, for disturbing the peace."

•—–· Over to Batsy ·–—•

"Selina I need to ask-"

"WHAT THE F-CKING HELL DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND ABOUT A GOOD NIGHTS REST!" - Selina

"Oooooh, she sounds pissed Bruce." - Jason

"I'm sorry to call you at this hour, but we need to find a girl that looks just like every single one of my other kids." - Bruce

"Bruce... I thought we agreed that 7 kids was. the. f-cking. limit." - Selina

•—–· Back to the Sirens ·–—•

Selina looked over to Maria before muting the speaker.

"Do you want them to know you're here Kitten?" - Selina

"... I'm tired, I haven't had coffee, I have no filter, so f-ck it, act like you never saw me today, and let them drown in chaos. " - Maria

"I think I like filter less Maria." - Harley

"Okay." Selina shrugged her shoulders and then un-muted her phone, putting it back on speaker mode.

"Where was she last seen?" - Selina

"She was last seen with Harley and Poison Ivy, I want you to see if she's still with them." - Bruce

Selina looked over to Maria and Harley, both of them shook their heads with mischievous grins.

"I've been with them all day, and I haven't once seen a girl that looks like your kids. Now can I go back to sleep, and forget this ever happened?" - Selina

"WHERE IS MY NIECE!!!" - Tony

"Oh, hey Tony, didn't know you were there, don't know who, or where your niece is, but good luck trying to find her. Oh and Bruce, I'm shutting my phone off so you don't keep calling till the butt crack of dawn. And congrats it's now 4am. you owe me a lunch date, uh-ba-bye." Selina then hung up her phone and turned it off.

"That went pretty well if you ask me, now I'm going back to sleep." - Selina

•—–· Back to Batsy ·–—•

The room was silent for a few minutes before Jason spoke up.

"Does that mean that Pixiepop ran away and is even more lost now?!" - Jason

"Oh god, what do we do, what if she got hurt?!" - Dick

"What if she got kidnapped?!" - Jason

"What if she's with a big time Gotham Villain?!" - Dick

"... What if she got more coffee?" - Tim

"Oh Hell No" - Jason/Dick

"... Lets all go to sleep, and when we wake up, we'll head over to their base and double check. She could've just said that because I called her at 3am." - Bruce

"But my niece is still out there!" - Tony

"You're going to sleep Tony." - Pepper then dragged Tony to his room.

•—–· Back to Maria ·–—•

Selina went to a different part of the building, where Maria assumed the bedrooms were. Ivy had gone to the greenhouse to be with the plants, and now it was just her and Harley left on the couch, and she couldn't sleep.

"... Harley?" - Maria

"Yeah hun?" - Harley

"I can't sleep." - Maria

"Well, watcha wanna do till ya get tired?" Harley asked sitting up a little straighter to get a better look at Maria.

Maria gave a sly smile, and looked Harley in the eyes "Want to go free-running on the rooftops?"

"... Alright, but lets get some coffee, and a snack in us first." - Harley gave her a side hug, before getting up to go make the coffee, and grab some snacks.

After they had their coffee, they climbed to the roof of the base. Harley was in her outfit, bat in hand and ready to do some bonding.

"So, how does ya outfit work?" - Harley

"Like so, ready Mullo?" - Maria

"Yes Maria" - Mullo

"Ok, Mullo, Get Squeaky!" A bright light flashes, and when Harley could see again, Maria was in a dark gray suit, wearing black knee high boots, with a strip of pink at the knee, and black elbow length gloves with the same pink strip at her elbow. Her mask was a slightly lighter gray on the top part, and pink on the bottom. Her hair was pulled into two buns with pink ribbons that faded to gray, and to black at the very tip. Her jump rope around her waist forming a tail going just below the back of her knees.

"Just when I think ya can't get any more adorable. So what should I call ya?" - Harley

"You can call me Multimouse." - Maria

Soon they were racing and doing tricks off different roofs, they were really enjoying themselves. From one of the roofs they heard a commotion in one of the alleys, when they looked down they saw a man holding a woman at gunpoint.

"Not good, seems like he's got issues, probably lost his lover, most likely has additions to drugs and alcohol, and seems to be a little tipsy." - Harley

"I've got a plan." - Multimouse

…………

Multimouse droped a little way behind the guy, grabbing his attention while Harley got the lady to safety.

"You know there's a help center two blocks from here that would be more than willing to help you." - Multimouse

The crook just raised his gun to her trying to keep it steady as he spoke.

"Give me all your money little girl, or else I'll hurt you."

"1. That's not how you hold a gun. 2. That is no way to treat any girl. and 3. Instead of money, I'll give you my jump rope." - Multimouse

"Why the hell would I want your jump rope, that thing looks worthless." the crook lowered his guard enough as Multimouse pretended to hand over her jump rope, only to use it in a quick motion to dismarm the man, as Harley promptly knocked him out with one swing.

"Lets neva have ya at gunpoint again, okay hun? I'm afraid my heart can't take it." - Harley said while tying the crook to a lamppost.

"Sorry, but it was the best idea I could come up with at the moment, besides, any guy with a gun would feel like they have the upper hand if they're facing a random little girl with a jump rope, rather than Gothams' Harley Quinn with a bat." - Multimouse

"Sadly I'm just too popular with the kiddos on the street." - Harley

…………

They continued to stop a few more muggers on the way back to the base, and when they got back they peaked around the corner to see the whole Batfam plus Iron Man talking with Ivy and Selina.

"How much you want to bet we can get back out before they see us?" - Whispering Multimouse

"... Lets try hidin' in the kitchen." - Whispering Harley

As they tried to sneak by (still in their costumes) Selina just walks over and draggs them to the group.

"Here, now let me sleep!" - Selina

"Dang it Selina we wanted tah see just how long we could hide out in the kitchen!" - Harley

Selina did a double take now realizing they both went out.

"... You didn't." - Selina

"We wanted tah go free-runnin'! So what?" - Harley

"She could've gotten hurt Harls." - Ivy

"My suits magic, I am invulnerable to bullets, normal magic, swords, knifes, anything staby staby, and I can withstand any temperature in it." Multimouse said with a slight pout.

"Hold up, is she a magical girl?" - Red Hood in the background

When Selina let go both Harley and Multimouse went behind Ivy for protection.

"We can still make a run for it." - Harley whispered to Multimouse

"... Ok, I'll meet you on the roof." - Whispering Multimouse

Harley gave a nod as she slowly inched her wasy closer to the door that lead to the roof, as she saw Iron Man approach Multimouse.

"Please get out of your suit, we need to talk about why you're here-" - Iron Man

"Multitute!" - Multimouse

Harley then saw Multimouse shrink into dozens of tiny little versions of herself as her clones spread out in all directions, one of which was heading right for her.

"Wth, you never told us she could use magic!" - Red Robin

Harley picked her up, and slipped through the door without anyone noticing.

"That was great, but how do ya get back tuh normal size?" - Harley

"Simple, I just merge back with my clones." As she said this, all her clones came back, and she merged with herself, becoming normal sized again.

"Where to?" - Multimouse

………… So now The Batfam is trying to find many long gone Mini-Multimouses, and Harley seems to have disappeared with her. Harley and Multimouse are now running over the roofs, heading for Wayne Manor.

"So why are we going to Wayne Manor?" - Multimouse

"Because, Batsy will neva think of lookin' for us at his own home, at least not fawh a little while." - Harley

When they arrived at the Manor, Multimouse de-transformed as Harley knocked on the door.

"Ms. Quinn, Ms. Maria, pleasure to see you here, please come in." - Alfred

"Are any of the bat-birds here?" - Harley

"Ms. Barbara, Ms. Stephanie, and Ms. Cassandra are the only ones here at the moment." - Alfred

"Do ya think you can keep us bein' here a secret from Batsy?" - Harley

"Harley? What are you doing here with Maria?" - Barbara

"It seems that Ms. Harley and Ms. Maria are now playing hide and seek with the rest of the family." - Alfred

"Did someone say hide and seek?" - Steph

"Yes, so could we maybe try and keep this a secret from everyone else, please?" - Maria

"Sure, it was starting to get boring around here. We can all hide in the living room no one ever use. Barbara you show them the way, I'll get the food/drinks and boardgames." - Steph

"Is this alright with you Alfred?" Maria

"It's all right Ms. Maria, you can hide out in the old living room." - Alfred

"Thanks Alfie, ya the best." - Harley

"Thank you Alfred." - Maria

"Ok then, follow me." - Barbara

…………

In the old living room, Harley, Maria, Barbara, Steph, and Cass began to formulate a plan.

"Ok, so the best way for them to never find you is to have your phone off, stay away from any and all cameras, and show your face to no one." - Steph

"So, do you have anything in mind that you might want to do?" - Barbara

"Can we put them on a wild goose chase?" - Maria

Cass nodded to Marias' suggestion approvingly.

"I can hack a few traffic cams to help with that." - Barbara

"We can also throw in some useless hints, to throw dem even further off our scent." - Harley

"Good idea Harley." - Barbara

"Thanks, but how long do ya think we should make it last?" - Harley

"As long as Maria wants it to." - Barbara

"Then let the games begin." - Maria.

•—–—–·†·–—–—•

Chapter 5 complete. Hope everyone is stayin' safe, Rockin' those Positive Vibes, and havin' an absolutely wonderful day. BUG-OUT 🐞💮🐞

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜Tag List〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

1st Place★: @animegirlweeb ☕ , 2nd Place★: @jumpingjoy82, 3rd Place★: @zalladane, 4th Place★: @jayjayspixiepop, 5th Place★: @arty-shadow-morningstar, 6th Place★: @smol-book-nerd, 7th Place★: @irontimetravelflower, 8th Place★: @fandom-trapped-03, 9th Place★: @meme991001, 10th Place★: @buginetye, 11th Place★: @blackroserelina, 12th Place★: @jessigurl-design, 13th Place★: @adrestar, 14th Place★: @moon5608, 15th Place★: @little-bluestar, 17th Place★: @myazael, 18th Place★: @our-preciousss, 19th Place★: @wolf2118, 20th Place★: @nyx-in-line, 21st Place★: @kking13, 22nd Place★: @lunerlover2024, 23rd Place★: @moonlightstar64, 24th Place★: @corporeal-terrestrial, 25th Place★: @kashlyn, 26th Place★: @tbehartoo, 27th Place★: @heart-charming, 28th Place★: @solangelo252, 29th Place★: @t1dwarrior-of-earth, 30th Place★: @lady-phoenix-of-tardis, @lupagrimm

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ginkgomoon · 3 years

Text

Cyril- Character Analysis

This post was based on an ask made a while ago concerning Hypnos’ character. I personally think his appearance enhanced the development of the game for the Winter World chapters, additionally with the depth of MC’s character. Hopefully this post will help clarify some things in relation to who he is and why he is important to the game’s progression. Please enjoy his well-deserved character analysis post. And yes- lots of spoilers! Please don’t read if you don't want to be spoiled on future content from Chapters 19+.

“This is the world you wanted.”

Hypnos first appears in the Epilogue of Chapter 19, when MC escapes her dream (the one with the separate routes of the guys) and begins to enter the Winter World through Black Cabin.

A soft hue appeared amidst this world of frozen white. A handsome, elegant young man walked towards me from the mist. Snow fell upon him, but as if he was protected by some force, none stuck on him. For a moment, I felt that this person looked really familiar, but it was someone I’ve never met. His eyes seemed detached, yet full of pity.

“This world’s pretty interesting, don’t you think?”

I did not sense any direct threat from him, but I was also unable to let my guard down.

“Is this not the world you wanted? You were aware of it long ago. No need to go on deceiving yourself.”

His tone was peaceful, but there was a chill to it that made me shiver.

“In this world, time’s been frozen. Everything you fear hasn't taken place. It was not I who made this world, but you. Everything you have experienced is a product of that which you yearn for the most. If everything could start over, if life could return to normal, if none of this had occurred...”

He saw into my heart effortlessly, tearing down each fragile wall I’d made with each word that he spoke.

The man’s gentle expression turned cold. His smile faded into subdued indifference.

“You think everything you’ve experienced is fake? Everything is real. Everyone in this world had sunken into the same dream. We will forever remain in a dream land.”

The man chuckled gently. Snow and wind blurred his form, blurring my vision. -Chapter 19 (Epilogue)

Some people would probably have the reaction of ??? and others would think he’s a new love interest HAHA.

It’s clear that this section of the chapter does not give much insight into his character, his name or who he is all. But, we can (hopefully) tell from what we are given, that he will play an important role in the future since he has an actual VA, and is (quite confusingly) going on about “the world that she wanted”. Though, this will be all cleared up later. From here, he makes small appearances in the next few chapters, which helps foreshadow and gradually help set the final showdown to conclude the Winter World.

While my mind wandered, I accidentally ran into someone in the corner. Even more unluckily, as I retreated backwards I stepped on a slick patch of ice, almost sending me sprawling.

“Careful.”

A light laughter fell on my ears. Before I could react, I was caught by the person I bumped into.

“Are you okay?”

I looked up and was met with a pair of gentle green eyes. A handsome face filled my vision. For an instant, I felt that he was familiar, and the sight of an ice-covered world seemed to appear before me. He gracefully let go of my wrist in a gentlemanly manner, stepped back to a more appropriate distance. -Chapter 20-17

A man walked out onto a rooftop covered with snow and held out his hand, catching a snowflake falling from the sky. The snowflake in his palm turned into an exquisite, white robin with its eager wings spread as if escaping a prison and flying into the sky.

He looked down from on high, surveying the city blanketed in dazzling white snow, a faint smile on his face.

“Truly something to look forward to- a long cold winter.” -Chapter 21-25

At this point, we still don’t even know who this man is. Or if he even has a name! But finally, the chapter after reveals a little bit more to help us come to somewhat of a conclusion about his character.

Chapter 22-5

The automatic vending machine behind me kept repeating the same sentence. I turned around to find that the machine wasn't on the fritz- there was actually someone continually trying to make a payment. I couldn't help but go over to see if they needed help.

A pair of eyes clear as glass turned on me. Although there was a gentle look in his eyes, there was a subtle feeling of distance.

I suddenly recognised that face! It was that famous piano player- Cyril!

MC: “Excuse me, do you need help?”

A hint of warmth suffused his cold eyes, as he gestured in frustration at the vending machine.

Cyril: “Just want to buy a bottle of water, but I don’t know how to use these machines.”

(*Intense vending machine purchase in process*)

Instead, I decided to just point at the app on my own phone and give him a brief explanation, afraid that I would miss my bus.

MC: “This time, I’ll buy for you. This is the one you want?”

Cyril: “Right, thanks.”

When I accidentally brushed against his long, slender fingertip, there wasn’t even a hint of warmth.

MC: “Your hand is ice cold. How about I buy a warm drink for you?”

He seemed a little hesitant, but he gave a slight nod and accepted my proposal with a smile.

The drink thunked down into the dispenser, and before I could react, he already bent down and retrieved the bottle and mine from the machine.

When he extended the drink to me, I realised that at the bottom, there were two kinds of paper, which appeared to be tickets of some kind.

I lifted them up and carefully looked at them. They were tickets to an upcoming and very sold out piano tour. Moreover, this was for the final VIP performance aboard the HMS (Abbreviated for “Her Majesty’s Ship”) Victoria.

He may not look like it, but he’s actually quite a warm, kind person.

The silver haired man watched as the bus drove away, and the drink in his hand turned solid ice without him noticing.

As snow drifted down around him, a faintly perceptible smile formed on his lips.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

We find out that the young man’s name is Cyril, a famous piano player. During this exchange, Cyril is taking his time to observe MC and how she’s responding to the Winter World. He appears to be genuinely surprised about MC’s display of kindness, even though she’s been tossed out by the men most important to her, and into a foreign world wreaked of havoc.

He lets MC purchase the warm milk tea for him, and they both talk about the most mundane things ever. This may seem like just filler conversations, but actually holds importance because it actually influences how he views the world and MC in the future.

Cyril then uses this chance to extend his invitations to his sold out piano performance on the HMS Victoria. MC thinks he’s “quite a warm, kind person”- to which, we will find out if she’s wrong later. We also can confirm that he is an Evolver as we watch him turn his drink into solid ice, as well as the same man who was left unidentified in the previous chapters.

Chapter 23-13

??: “At this point, we’re all certain that the one behind this “Eternal Winter” is one of our former members.”

??: “Another traitor?”

??: “One with the power to traverse time and construct dreamscapes. There's only one that it could be.”

??: “The traitor code-named Hypnos?”

With those words, a deathly stillness fell over the air, as if some indescribable darkness had stolen into the room.

True name: Unknown. Age: Unknown. Evol: Time travel, dream construction.

Pitifully few clues to go on, not even a single photograph.

Was that person who trapped me in that dream and the traitor the same? If it was true that everything before happened on another world’s timeline, then does that mean this person had jumped through into this world timeline?

??: “Just what is he planning to do?”

??: “Whatever it is, since he’s a traitor to the organisation, it’s bound to be contrary to our goals. We must put a stop to him.”

??: “Continue the investigation. We must find the satellite coordinates. We cannot let him interfere with our plan.”

If this mystery mastermind had such powerful abilities, then what chance do I have at stopping him?

The hexagonal crystal symbol wasn't a major part of their discussion, but it stuck a faint chord with a hazy part of my memory. I finally remembered- that ticket to the concert!

They consider this powerful Evolver- Hypnos, a traitor to Black Swan and the individual behind the Eternal Winter incident. But nobody knows what he looks like. However, MC notices that the hexagon design is seen similar to the tickets that Cyril gave to her for his performance on the HMS Victoria. She now knows that Cyril is Hypnos, then realises that the satellite launch isn’t on land, but on sea. She knows how to stop the winter from spreading.

Here we automatically assume that he’s another Black Swan bad-guy-turned-traitor. What is his true goal? And why does it have to be that handsome piano player, out of all people?

Chapter 24-5

Before we could enter the main hall and check out the situation, a sonorous piano melody was belated through the ship’s speakers over that whole patch of sea.

The gentle tune formed an invisible yet unbreakable net in the air. Everyone in proximity to it became the piano music’s prisoner, unable to escape.

I felt a strong feeling of drowsiness. I tried to stop it but it seemed to have already gotten into my veins. Every cell in my body reverberated with it.

Everyone in the hall was swaying like soulless puppets, and on the stage, Cyril held his eyes slightly closed as he played the last requiem for them.

Chapter 24-7

MC travels to confront him on his ship, and watches him entrance people with his piano playing. This is how he got his code-name “Hypnos”. (Similar to how Kiro can charm and control people). Thankfully, Helios appears, his Evol is powerful enough to command MC to escape this.

“Why can’t a lie... be a good thing, too? Is this not the world you wanted?”

An anonymous voice seeped into my consciousness, accompanied by a dim, far away sounding piano.

The false warmth swooped in, and exhausted as I was, I chose to accept it.

My hand was originally grasping at air, but just then I distinctly felt the touch of something solid and warm. I could faintly feel someone grabbing onto me tight.

I forced open my heavy eyes, and a familiar outline filled my blurry vision.

“K- Kiro...?”

For a second, I couldn’t tell if I was in a dream or reality. His face was in shadow, and those usually sea blue eyes now flashed golden, as beautiful as the night stars.

He shouted at me, loud enough to hear over the inescapable piano music-

“I command you to awaken!”

Although without a hint of warmth, his eyes were like the first rays of dawn filtering through the curtains, melting away the fanciful dreamworld clouding my brain.

“I’m not like Ares. I don’t care about any Queen. If you want to influence the outcome, you have to do it your own way.”

Cyril still didn't stop playing, and instead kept moving his fingers across the key in a self-satisfied manner. The audience were completely under the spell of his melody, sunken into the deepest depths of a dream.

A black pistol was pointed straight at him, but the enraptured pianist did not let that stop his performance. Helios wasn’t in a hurry either, waiting quietly for the perfect, culminating core for this piece.

Just as the final note was stuck, Helios resolutely pulled back the tigger. A stream of smoke rose from the gun, but Cyril was somehow unharmed, blocked by an invisible force field.

Helios: “You constructed this dreamscape long before.”

Cyril: “I just don’t want this performance to have any interruptions.”

He rose elegantly from his piano bench and took a deep bow toward the hall absent of applause. Then he sauntered off the stage and looked at me.

Cyril: “You finally came.”

Chapter 24-9

Cyril: “Thank you for teaching me how to use the vending machine.”

I didn't expect him to speak up first, much less did I expect him to bring up that. As if we weren’t staring into the upcoming apocalypse, but just another utterly normal day.

Cyril: “It was you who showed me a different side of life. Although I still think, milk tea tastes better iced.”

MC: “But that doesn’t mean you have to wipe out the people who prefer drinking it hot.”

Cyril: “I think you misunderstood me. Just like you, I love this world. I love the complexity and uncertainty humanity has brought to it. I just think, it just doesn't have to move so fast.”

The smile he had showed- made me believe that from the bottom of his heart, everything he did was to make the world better, and that he should not recover any blame or interference from anyone.

Cyril: “Before one fully understands oneself, power beyond control can only be dangerous. Just like if I were to ask you now, do you truly understand yourself? How would you answer?”

He chuckled at my inability to respond.

The thoughts in his heart were hidden beneath a glacier, and all it showed on the surface was the very tip of it, preventing me from ever getting a clear idea of what he was thinking.

Cyril: “I’ve prepared a little gift for this kind of world.”

A giant steel tower shot upwards and stood tall between the water and sky. The satellite launch tower!

Cyril took hold of my hand and causally moved the key from his own hand. Before I had time to stop him, I saw crystal clear ice form at his fingertips. Pure and unblemished, but also dead. Just like this world before us.

Cyril: “Isn’t this a nice way to end things? This. Is the world you want.”

He then hands MC to press the button for him, then freezes the key to the Black Cabin. Cyril here genuinely believes that what he is doing is good for MC, as he uses the satellite launch platform from the ocean to spread the “Eternal Winter”- the “perfect world”.

Black Swan still pursues evolution of all humanity, but Cyril doesn’t agree with their methods. He knows MC is the Queen and thinks that in this Winter World, this is how she will only grow- without those she loves- if she had not known the boys and everyone she cares about. "If none of those things in the original world had occurred..."

What Hypnos stated reminds me of the Winter World Helios and what he said from when he saved her in Chapter 21.

“The weak should learn to survive on their own. No one will help them. Do everything you can, by fair means or foul. Give up everything in your past… even yourself. If you can’t do that, then go back to the world you came from.”

Which is a little nice touch because Helios appears to save her again with his Evol- but this time, MC is saving the world in her own way. She is not identifying with QUEEN first- but as herself. She had seen and been through so much pain to grow her mental and emotional strength to persevere and save this world with her kindness and love for humanity. MC, herself, has evolved.

Chapter 24-10

Cyril: “Not going to give the button to the launch a push? Perhaps you’ve forgotten, this is only my dream. Any decision you make here won't affect the outside world. Aren't you at least curious? The perfect world I wanted.”

What is the meaning of existence in a world of unrealistic perfection!?

MC: “If I do that, wouldn’t I be like an ostrich, sticking my head into the sand?”

Cyril: “If people found the perfect pile of “sand”, who knows if they’d stick with reality- and choose not to escape? After all, in reality, no one can predict what's going to happen from second to second. But in a perfect dream, everything always unfolds exactly as people desire.”

MC: “I can’t answer that for others. But it shows that the decision for how to answer should be left for each individual person.”

Cyril: “The way I see it, those who have no ability to judge never had the right to choose in the first place.”

Naturally, traitor though he was, he was still like others in Black Swan, holding a disdain for normal people, deep in his bones. When he rebelled against wasn't the thinking of the organisation, but their methods. But no matter which method of theirs it was, they all wanted to force their ideology on the whole world.

Did the world really need their brand of reason? Did humanity really need their idea of progress?

Everything in existence follows its own, original path, with absolutely no need for human intervention. And what I had to do was to maintain this balance.

I abruptly placed the remote back in his hand and told him my final decision.

It’s clear that Cyril doesn’t have that much experience with normalcy or identifies with at least humanity. He believes that it’s better to ignore reality and to live in a dream without the memories of the past or mourn the loss of others. Frozen without emotions, pain, or progress- the “perfect world”.

Chapter 25-4

After MC accepts her QUEEN identity, she finally uses that power to unite all timelines ultimately defeating Cyril, then returns back to the original world. Weirdly, he appears in front of her when she wakes up.

Cyril: “I believed I warned you long ago, no matter what world it is, it doesn't make much of a difference. You assume too much. In this world, I am just like you, a normal person. Think of it… as the price I’ve paid. My choice… was made for you. You were growing too slowly. Maybe that world was best suited for you after all. Too bad, you were too muddled to realise it. This world may soon experience a change, and it’s the kind of change that has nothing to do with you.

Time Subway

Time Subway takes place before Cyril leaves, after MC is hospitalised in Chapter 32. It reveals more about MC’s power and spiritual connection to Loveland City, the rest of the worlds and their timelines.

They meet on the train, though MC can’t remember meeting Cyril before. His piano music continues to play as the train moves backwards. (And that’s the thing about the subway- the train goes in cycles to each station, to the memories and worlds MC has previously lived in.)

Chapter 5

MC: “This train is really strange. It’s going backwards.”

Cyril: “Does the direction really matter? Though, I’ve never been on a subway train. Perhaps, there are a few imperfections.”

MC: “How did you get on the train?”

Cyril: “Same as you, I guess.”

MC: “Do you know where this train is going?”

Cyril: “To a place you want to be. So embrace your imagination. Think of everything you ever wanted. Eventually we will arrive at the perfect ending you’ve longed for.”

Chapter 6

MC: “I feel like I’m forgetting something. My memory has been foggy ever since I boarded this train.”

Cyril: “You do know me. You have to recall those memories on your own. Do you want to remember everything? Or, do you prefer to give up the past and start again right here?”

Cyril seemed to be hinting something, I felt that he’d always use such implicit language, but I couldn't remember when…

Chapter 7

Somehow this train gave me a sense of security. I could feel a familiar resonance between us. As if it was closely linked to me in the first place.

A thought slowly came to my mind, maybe I could decide on its direction at some point in time.

MC: “Why do you want me to go to the past?”

Cyril: “Back to when everything hadn’t taken place, isn’t that what you wanted? I’m only doing this for you. Sorry I didn’t ask for your permission. But you’ll be my best work.”

Chapter 8

Cyril: “This world belongs to you. My power doesn’t work here. I’m nothing more than a normal person in the real world. I’m going to use my power one last time. And this will be my final work. A perfect world is still what I’m after. It was you who broke free from the world I created. You showed me my limit. Indeed, the power triggered by your emotion outshined my skills. That’s why I chose your spiritual world, as the raw material of my final work.”

MC: “So this is just an infinite cycle within my spiritual word, isn’t it?”

Cyril: “I won’t say you are wrong. In this train, you can choose any stop and choose any exit you want. When you step out, this world becomes more complete. Meanwhile, this dream will continue the everlasting cycle, which is also your karma.”

MC: “So do I stay here?”

Cyril: “You can choose to leave… if you have the power to battle yourself. If you leave, this world will continue to exist all independent from all time space.”

MC: “How do I leave?”

Cyril: “You have to discover that for yourself.”

MC: “...Cyril, I need to go. If there’s really a perfect world you want, just take this world as my gift to you.”

Cyril: “I see, thank you... If only you could eventually put an end to this cycle.”

Chapter 32-1

Cyril- “I came to say goodbye.”

MC: “All that stuff that happened to me after losing my Evol has something to do with you. Starting from when “I ran into you” on the train, it was all a part of your plan.”

He smiled slightly, met my hostile gaze without a hint of displeasure. He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t admit it either. There was an undercurrent of tension to the stillness, but also some unusual and subtle peace.

This pianist… I’ve never seen anyone so out of touch with the world.

MC: “The vending machine, the scammer in the square, thorns on a flower, you don’t have much experience with everyday things, do you?”

Cyril: “However, it really has been a long time since anyone’s talked with me about such things.”

I may have been imagining it, but I seemed to detect a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

MC: “Just what are you after, coming here to see me like this?”

As he spoke, he reached out and put his hand at the back of mine. His fingers were ice cold.

But in this brief moment, a flurry of images flashed before my eyes.

Four white walls, an empty room, a triangular piano of translucent crystal placed in the corner. The figure of a man gradually emerged before the piano bench.

His thin graceful fingers danced daintily across the keys as snowflakes fell upon him and settled undisturbed.

That gentle piano melody reverberating in the shadows also came out as a muttered groan from the girl as pain hit her.

Suddenly, the piano playing intensified, the tempo building to a frenzy like a subway train rattling through a tunnel.

I saw a boy get up from the piano, walk to the front of the stage, and take a bow to the thunderous roar of applause.

The scene shifted. The boy was once again standing in the gloomy storm, holding a white rose to his chest, listening in silence to a priest delivering a eulogy.

??: “Keep playing, Little Cyril. Use your power and help Mummy make the perfect world.”

Cyril: “A perfect world… I’ve got it.”

I saw his past, present and future. I saw the boy slowly growing up and playing that final melody in the centre of a frozen plain. He played tirelessly, as if he’s trapped inside in a world of memory.

Cyril: “Can you tell me what you saw?”

In those crystal clear eyes, I saw my own expression, and there was an ineffable expression of sadness to them.

MC: “Is a perfect creation… really that important?”

Cyril’s eyes were flat, like the negative space in an ink wash painting.

Cyril: “The sad fact is that they will never be able to achieve it.”

MC: “But absolute perfection doesn’t exist. Everything has blemishes and faults. But that doesn’t mean that they’re not good enough, and it certainly doesn’t mean that they don’t have a right to exist in this world.”

Cyril: “Perhaps. You’ve certainly proven that point yourself. One final thing before I go, of course, you can choose not to believe it. Perfection has never been an illusion; everything in this world has a singular, perfectly-suited exit. Although, I think you already found it.”

MC: “Where are you going?”

Cyril: “A world that belonged to you, but now belongs to me. Thank you for the world you’ve given me, and the interesting memories. And that bubble tea, I quite like the flavour.”

His words fell softly, as if shrouding me in a tranquil, pure white dream.

Upon seeing his past, present and future, all that MC sees is Cyril playing the piano. It turns out, his true motivation for creating the “perfect world” was for his mother when she passed. With MC’s help, he finally admits that it cannot be achieved. He isn’t directly hostile like the other Black Swan members either, and calmly admits his defeat and accepts MC’s decision.

Behind the Curtain- 6 (Chapter 28)

??: “If you want to see it, go. The door being opened will be closed soon.”

The black box grows bigger, and fills the entire vision in black-

Cyril: “Do you know the origin of the name BLACK SWAN?”

I see an elegant young man standing inside a luxury gift shop. There, piano pieces are playing. He looked down at me. The black box reflects in the cool eyes looking a lot like snow.

MC: “Am I inside the box?”

Cyril: “BLACK SWAN” is a word that means an unexpected event. Humans have no way to predict the impact of the event. When I first heard their name, I immediately saw the appeal. I also wanted to be a part of it. But…the majority of them still live in this illusion. Only a few were aware that humanity is ignorant. They can't help me to complete my work.”

While speaking, he pressed the crystal piano keyboard. The jolting sound echoes—

Cyril’s Mum: “With your power, continue this and please show me the perfect world.”

The woman lies on bed, looking at him with those beautiful eyes that looked a lot like that boy’s. There’s no strength in them.

Cyril’s Mum: “For one last time, I want to experience the beauty of this world with my whole being. That’s also the reason for your existence.”

The boy then grows up in the snowstorm and turns into an innocent boy. His outline became sharp, becoming an elegant young man.

The snowy wind pushes the window open and surrounds his mother. She then transforms into white snow and suddenly disappears.

The man doesn’t notice the occurring snowstorm, but instead concentrates on the graceful piano playing.

A piece of glass shatters and lands on the piano. The young man engrossed in playing keeps an eye on the keys.

MC: “Look out!”

The piece of glass cuts the young man’s long finger. A line of blood flows, on the skin like ice and snow.

The young man finally stops. As if time had been frozen, the lingering sound of the piano remained in the room covered with heavy snow.

He looks up. Like an innocent puzzled child who touched the piano for the first time, those eyes come into mind.

Cyril: “Who…are you?”

MC: “...who am I?”

Cyril had been stuck all this time within his memory of his promise to his mother- in pursuit of the “perfect world”. His world was biased upon thinking that humanity- even Evolvers, were ignorant and unable to help him achieve his goals. This demonstrates the divide and individuation between each Black Swan member of not being able to work together effectively to achieve the collective goal- of the “New World”.

It was nice to see MC being able to overcome her self-doubt and enter Black Cabin by accepting the QUEEN title in a world so foreign to her. Her hope, love and determination had saved the world again. Cyril played a huge part in this chapter of her life, almost like prepping her for the final prophecy of fate.

And “Doomsday” is coming.

#17 pages #patting myself on the back for this one #mlqc Cyril #mlqc #love and producer #mr love queens choice #恋与制作人 #mlqc translation #mlqc analysis #mlqc cn #mlqc en #mlqc Hypnos #mlqc spoilers

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yasuda-anis · 3 years

Text

A Blessing for a Friend

One of my first released works for Anis, I wanted to give something to a friend of mine. To @writer-and-artist27, Vy I’m glad to have met you and I love your stories. I hope we can keep being friends for a long time.

As for what I listened to while I wrote this it’s Wonderful Future or Prekasno Daleko. Just cause I really like it and the mood got me excited. May your future be bright.

The heavy smell of bread blew into Anis’ face, fogging her glasses in a few seconds. It seemed that despite all the enchantments that Medea and others had placed on them for protection and preventing them falling off, some things could just never be avoided. Anis waited a few seconds for them to clear up, enjoying the rich scent of vanilla and almost drooling. But it was important that the last part be done right.

If she messed this up, the whole thing would lose more than half the impact. But the heat coming out of the oven was still intense enough that she hesitated reaching in, even with her gloves and apron. “Need a hand there Master?” A cheerful voice called out behind her before a large heavy paw settled on her shoulder. It was a familiar feeling, but something she hadn’t felt for a while.

“Thanks Tamamo,” Anis sighed as she stepped aside. “I’ve been out of the kitchen for a long time so-” “No problem, no problem Master!” She grinned as her tail whapped her master gently. “I see you when you come to eat everyday so I do see you. But this is certainly something new.”

Back in the days of Chaldea… that was - never mind. When she had first arrived Tamamo had been there for her. Making sure she ate, making sure she had someone to talk to, and more importantly, being there for the warmth Anis had been missing. Back then, Anis would always stop by at least once a week to be with her- to talk, be pampered, spar, or just to get some motivation. It had been some time since Anis had come back to see her. Cat had come to visit herself mainly. But that was enough of that. “It’s a bit of a special occasion,” Anis confessed, breathing in the warmth from the tray Tamamo passed under her. “I really wanted to do something for her.” The fresh pastry was then quickly flipped over into a small basket, the smell of vanilla a bit more muted now. Cat moved over to bring over the picnic basket and pack in plates, utensils and some drinks. Anis put on her gloves- made out of materials she was sure a regular mage would kill her for- and reached into a small box to pull out small clay figurines. She then cut small holes into the pastry and inserted them, quickly closing up the holes with nata. The figures had been a group effort between her, Medea, and Nito. Making them heat resistant and non toxic had been a bit trick, but according to Medea the materials were easy enough to come by. “All ready here!” Tamamo saluted with feral glee. “Now! Quickly before that other cat burglar comes in!” Anis had factored in anyone coming in to try and steal it. But even the best laid plans need to adapt quickly, she thought as she wrapped it up in cloth and shut it in the basket. But alas, the smell, however faint, still escaped the basket. She would have to hurry. Or else…

“I’m off then! I’ll be back later!” Aniis yelled as she started moving quickly to the door. She could run. But the chances she could trip weren’t her main concern. Gotta act natural. I have an important appointment! But too fast and they’ll catch on!

Tamamo waved her away with a handkerchief, calling out all sorts of fun jokes at her. Anis waved back and went off the hallway.

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

The hallways of Novum Chaldea were packed. The early days of an empty Chaldea faded in the first months, and Anis was used to wandering both in her old Chaldea and in this one like a metro station. Staff and servants moved in their flows- the main speed being kept except for a few who were assumed to just be beyond reprimand. Anis would normally be a patient walker, her pace easily adjusted to suit whoever she was walking with. Today though she wove and dashed through the flow, trying to minimize her impact by calling out warnings to those ahead.

Excuse me!

Pardon me!

Sorry!

Hi!

Sorry, a bit busy!

No problem, just gotta go!

Not right now thanks!

Oops! You good? I’ll make it up to you later!

Sadly though, the kids had caught her. As she expected. The child servants were always on top of any delicious snacks and treats in the base before the other two threats of Jaguar, who would demand them, and Ibaraki, who would never bother to ask and just take it. I lost 5 minutes to negotiations, but hopefully I can still make it on time! The kids had realized quickly what the occasion was, but demanded an equal treat and participation in one of their tea parties. Apparently, Mori was hosting this one as his first foray into western tea ceremony.

But there it was! The door to Vy’s room! With one of her servants waiting out front as usual. Today it happened to be Emiya and Artoria, or Art as Vy called her. The pair had been chatting in front of the door before noting Anis, a bit winded, approached them.

“Hello there you two,” Anis panted, checking inside the basket to make sure nothing had spilled. “Is she back yet?”

Opening the basket had apparently been a mistake, since the culinary duo immediately caught onto what sort of treat Anis had brought and smiled. “She is not back yet, but if what you brought tastes as well as it smells I should believe my master will enjoy it,” Arotria smiled, her gentle gaze clearly showing her desire to try some as well.

“It’s been a while since I smelled something like this. Is that-” Emiya approached, starting to reach out to the basket.

Anis flinched back, covering the basket with her free hand. “Sorry about that, it’s best as a surprise ya know? Don’t worry though, it’s meant to be shared.”

Artoria nodded. “Indeed. You should learn to be patient like me. After all, Miss Anis has told us quite clearly it was meant as a surprise for all of us.” A letter had gone out to Vy’s main servants last week, indicating that on her birthday, they should split into two teams- one to distract Vy, and one to stand guard and prepare the room. Anis had barely made it to the room before the deadline.

Anis held out the basket to Emiya, until he took it with both hands. “I’ll just leave this with yall then and head off after telling her-”

“Telling me what?”

“YA!” Anis yelled and stomped her foot hard to prevent from accidentally swinging her elbow towards the voice. A very bad habit that had been the sad result of both martial arts training and poor nerves.

“Eeep! I-I’m sorry Aqui! I didn’t mean to scare you like that…” Vy mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s been a while since we saw each other, so-”

Anis breathed out, trying to relax. “It’s fine- fine” Anis breathed out again, her heart rate returning to normal. “Happy birthday Vy.”

She said it in the gentlest tone she had. Because it was her. One of the kindest souls she’d ever met, and deserved all the respect and charity the world had in return. Even Anis’ servants would treat her kindly and take time to chat with her from time to time.

“Thankie Aqui,” she smiled back in the way that had made her so warm to all she met. “What's that? It smells delicious~” “Hold on there little sparrow,” Robin grinned as he put a hand on her shoulder, earning a small pout from her. “I think we should all go inside and get the full surprise right?” Anis nodded, glad to not disappoint. “We came up with a nice little thing for you Vy!” Anis smiled, something she wasn’t too familiar with, but she was glad her tone at least matched the mood. “I wanted to give you something as thanks for what you’ve given me and others here. And sorry to say, I won’t take no for an answer.” “Muuuu. This better not be something too big Anis.” _________________________

It was a simple affair. Anis had simply planned to leave the gift after explaining, but Achilles and Emiya had forced her to take a seat at the table. Apparently, she had a responsibility to see it through to the end. The cake sat at the center of the table- a Rosca de Reyes, a delicious pastry in the shape of a round loop topped with concha sugar in vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. There were also some fruits as well, but only on half of the cake since Anis didn’t care for them.

The main gift though was the act of cutting the cake, Anis explained. “See, this is technically a celebration cake that’s eaten either on christmas, or on the actual feast day in January,” Anis explained as she passed the knife to Vy on the opposite side of the table.

“Let me get that for you,” Robin said as he started to reach out for the knife only to have Anis give him the look she usually gave those who started deviating from the rules in board games.

“The main thing is cutting it, Robin, so she needs to choose what part she wants and cut it herself,” Anis explained, tapping the cake. “It’s not just a cake you know, it’s a game.”

Vy tilted her head and squinted at the cake. “A… game? Like, with rules?”

“Not that kind of game,” Anis chuckled as she waited for Vy to grip the knife. “See, it’s about making choices and seeing if you get lucky.” Vy still looked a bit confused, but eventually started cutting into the Rosca, the rich smell leaking out with each cut.

Crshh!!

“W-what was that?!” Vy pulled the knife out and looked inside the cut. “Is there food inside too? But it was so hard?”

“Got one already?” Anis asked, a bit surprised at the game starting off so quickly. “I tried to mix up the placement, but with your good fortune it makes sense you’d hit it off on your first try. Make your next cut for now, okay? But only cut as much as you can eat.”

So Vy, still a bit confused, cut again, and hit something she couldn’t cut again. The look on her face though was more of curiosity and interest though, which helped relax Anis a bit. She held out a small spatula and Robin took it to lift her piece out, pulling a bit hard to separate the piece, revealing-

“What the? Is that?” Robin asked, not entirely sure of what had just happened.The other servants were all mostly curious as well, leaning forward to see.

A small blue bird’s head poked out from the left side of the slice, the rest of its body supposedly buried inside. On the right side though, was a small tile with a flower motif that fell onto the plate with a small clink. Vy picked it up and looked it over. The small white ceramic tile was two sided- a lily on one side and a lotus on the other.

“Two prizes so far Vy! Congrats!” Anis clapped, excited to see the reactions of surprise. “The game is meant to be that each person has a chance to find a prize and get good luck! I kinda adjusted it though and just made plenty of small prizes so every one of y'all could get something. So please, go ahead and enjoy it.”

Vy and the other servants started to get excited and began to cut their own slices to find prizes. A large variety of small figures and decorated tiles came out- a miniature crystal horse, a golden chariot, a lion cub, a golden ram, even a miniature Fou! The cake wasa soon gone and the figures were gathered in front of the empty plates, with Vy enjoying the rising atmosphere.

She deserves it honestly. She’s been working hard to take care of so many people. I just gotta give back something. Anis knew how late Vy stayed up at times- both working and because of stress. She also knew from how Fujino treated her that there were obviously more details about her past that shouldn’t be approached. But the unconditional love her servants had for her… Honestly, it made her a bit jealous. But that was fine. She had her own servants she cared for and could rely on. And a fellow master who she could always count on to hear a lovely tune sung or performed. A wonderful flower that bloomed once in the ice and now again in the sea.

Thank you for being born Vy. I’m glad to have been able to meet you. And more so that you could consider me a friend. May you overcome all your hardships, and keep your kindness forever.

#mastersona Anis #A gift #my first long writing attempt!#Sorry I couldn't proofread it #I wanted it to be a surprise #I hope you like it though #Vy #Happy birthday

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dcnatural · 4 years

Text

The Dominoed Daredoll

Word Count: 3656

Pairing: Arkham Knight!Jason x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Synopsis: You, the hero Flamebird, thought you would never find love again after your first love, Jason Todd died. In a attempt to rescue Oracle, you run into the mysterious Arkham Knight.

I should’ve waited for Bruce. That was the last coherent thought that crossed your mind before everything went black.

You woke up what could have been minutes or hours later, hands cuffed together behind your back and your ankles tied up preventing you from running. Your head still pounded where you had been hit and you could feel the dried blood that clung to your scalp.

It all had happened so fast: in one moment you were jumping from building to building following the trail that the Arkham Knight had left behind and in the next he had been upon you. You could only hope that, since you were still alive, maybe there was a chance Barbara also was. She had been your mentor from the moment you entered the world of crime fighting and you couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. You still hadn’t healed from the death of your best friend years ago, you couldn’t lose her too.

And so, you had sprung into action the moment you heard Oracle had been kidnapped, ignoring Bruce’s orders to stay away from the militia. You wouldn’t let anyone take anything from you again; as long as you were breathing, you would protect the ones you loved. But it seemed you wouldn’t be breathing for much longer, unless you could find a way to escape.

The room you were in was completely dark and you couldn’t see anything. The floor and wall behind you were made of cold metal and you assumed they had taken you to an abandoned warehouse. The only sound was that of your own erratic breathing; they had left you alone.

Except you weren’t. You heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking and felt the muzzle pressing up to your forehead. Whoever it was, had approached you in complete silence. Not only that, but they had been able to see you, even without any lights. It must be the Knight himself, you guessed.

“Look who finally woke up,” his modulated voice announced, sending chills down your spine. He loomed over you and even though you couldn’t see him, there was something familiar about his presence. Like the two of you had met before.

“I swear I’ll beat the fuck out of you when I get out,” you hissed in return. Even being at an extreme disadvantage wouldn’t stop you from getting mouthy.

He laughed dryly. “You surely talk a big game for someone who can’t even defend herself.” And as to prove his point, he slammed the sole of his boot against your ribs, causing you to growl in pain. He kicked you again, stronger this time and you felt the air leaving your lungs. You bit your tongue to avoid screaming, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Fuck you,” you managed to curse as you coughed, blood spurting out of your mouth. “You’ll see. I’ll get Oracle and we’ll defeat you.”

“Keep dreaming, daredoll.”

You flinched, the nickname hitting you harder than any punch could ever have. A wave of nostalgia rolled in as the memories flashed in your mind.

You and Robin, fighting side by side against Two-Face and his thugs. You and Jason, getting ice cream downtown. You and your best friend, taking out drug dealers. You and your first love, swaying in the gym during a school dance. You alone at his funeral, watching as the empty coffin was lowered into the earth. And echoing through the memories, his voice calling you his daredoll.

“My dominoed daredoll. The Batgirl for my Robin,” you remember him saying on the first night you donned your cowl, draping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you closer to him as you both watched Dick and Barbara, now in their new mantles of Nightwing and Oracle, kissing in the Batcave. You had blushed, wishing he would kiss you like that.

“Don’t call me that,” you said through gritted teeth. You focused on your breathing, refusing to let yourself cry in front of him.

He snickered. “I think it suits you, don’t you agree?”

You ignored him and tussled against the restraints, desperate to escape. If you could only free your hands, you knew you could disarm him.

“I asked you a question, daredoll .”

You felt a silent tear running down your cheek. There was something about the intonation he said that stupid nickname that was so like Jason. Annoyed by your lack of response, he pressed his feet to your injured ribs, threatening another blow. Finally, you gave in and slowly you shook your head, the gun's barrel sliding down your cheek until the muzzle was caressing your mouth.

“I hate it. It reminds me of someone I once knew.” Another tear fell down your face and your captor crouched in front of you, using his free hand to wipe them away. His touch was cold and harsh, a mockery of what should have been an endearing gesture. This close to him, you could hear his heartbeat and the faint buzzing of the circuits of his suit.

“Why so sad? I thought bats didn’t cry,” he taunted.

You shook your head again, feeling the cold metal sliding across your lips. “You know nothing about us. About what we have lost.”

He chuckled, amused by your answer. “I know more than you would think.” There was an edge of sadness in his tone, the first emotion he had shown since you woke up. Or perhaps you had only imagined it.

Either way, he couldn’t possibly know what it had felt like after losing Jason. You couldn’t even look at your Batgirl outfit without feeling guilty. Guilty that you were alive and he wasn’t. After Tim came along, it became too much. You didn’t blame him for taking Jason’s mantle, you saw it as a way to honour him, but you simply couldn’t be another Robin’s Batgirl, and so, you abandoned the purple and black suit to adopt a new one. Following the step of your older brother, you moved to Bludhaven and began to call yourself Flamebird. Not only the kryptonian bird was a perfect match for Dick’s Nightwing, but it also symbolized rebirth. Just like a phoenix, you had been reborn. It did nothing to quell the ache in your heart, but at least it was easier than to be constantly reminded of your deceased love.

A new idea seemed to cross his mind and, grabbing you by your chin, he pressed the pistol past your lips. Before you could react, it was already half buried in your throat and you choked on it, struggling to breathe around the large intrusion.

“Suck it,” he ordered and, not seeing another alternative, you did as you were told. His finger was on the trigger the whole time while you shoved your tongue inside the barrel, the taste of gunpowder and metal coating your tongue.

There was a fire building inside you, not of anger, but of excitement. It was dangerous and thrilling and you wondered how it would feel if, instead of his gun, he had placed his cock in your mouth. You quickly dismissed the thought, he was a criminal, for God’s sake. When he pulled it out, you couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed.

“Damn,” he exclaimed as he looked at you, drool dripping down your chin and cheeks flushed red. “I wonder if you’ll be as good when sucking my dick.”

His words affected your body in ways you refused to acknowledge, the mere threat of what he would do to you making you squirm. You knew your arousal was building up and really hoped he didn’t notice.

Even in the dark, you felt when he got up and walked away, causing your heartbeat to quicken. You feared what he was going to do, thinking that perhaps he would try to assault Barbara too. Please don’t harm her, you begged mentally. You would take whatever he threw at you, as long as it meant your friend was safe. She needed to survive, she had Dick waiting for her, she had someone to return to. You had no one. Perhaps if he kills me, I’ll see Jason again, death will reunite us for all of eternity, you thought hopefully, recalling the words engraved in his tombstone, a line from one of his favorite poems: “No more let life divide what death can join together.”

You were blinded by brightness when all of the lights lit up simultaneously, your eyes, already accustomed to the darkness, struggling to adjust to the change. The Knight came back and now you could see him properly. He wore an armor with the symbol of Arkham Asylum on the chest and his physique was in top shape, not even the metal protection being able to hide his muscles. On the holster, his pistol still glimmered with the wetness of your mouth. As you analized him, your eyes stopped a second too long on his thighs, your brain already starting to think about how it would feel to straddle one of them.

The light also allowed you to inspect your surroundings. Like predicted, it was indeed an old warehouse, a rectangular space empty except for the wooden boxes piled up under the mezzanine. You caught sight of your utility belt tossed on top of the boxes. If you could escape the binding on your feet, you could reach it and use one of the many tools it stored to open the cuffs and escape. The only problem would be doing all of that before you got shot.

“Much better this way,” he said, looking around at the lit up room. “You look much better without the night vision lens.”

He sat on your legs, pinning you down even harder. From a pocket, he pulled a sharp knife, which he ran across the skin of your neck, erupting goosebumps and leaving a faint red line across your skin, blood barely prickling through the cut.

“It would be so easy to kill you right now. No one would miss you. Hell, they likely haven’t even noticed you're gone.”

You knew he was just trying to get under your skin, but there was some truth to his words: with everything going on, your absence would take a while to be noticed. Especially since you had been doing exactly what Bruce had ordered you not to do. He probably thinks I’m patrolling Bludhaven like he asked.

The Knight then pressed the blade to your shirt, cutting past the yellow and red kevlar from your suit and exposing your breast to him. He tossed the pieces of fabric aside and cupped your boobs with his gloved hands. You ignored the sensation running through your body as he pinched and twisted your nipples, focusing solely on reaching one of the shredded bits. You took advantage of his assault to wiggle a little, making it seem you were only reacting to his ministrations. When you finally felt the cut material under your fingertips, you began to peel away the many protective layers in search of the metal wires, knowing that you could use those to unlock the handcuffs.

Unfortunately, he soon got bored of your chest and your red skirt became the next victim of his knife, followed closely by your leggings and panties. Your heartbeat quickened at the realization of what he was going to do and you began to work faster on freeing yourself. You closed your eyes in a pathetic hope that, if you couldn’t see it, then it couldn’t be really happening. However, you sprung them open again when you felt a cold object being pressed to your pussy lips. His gun.

“Please, don’t,” you croaked, eyes tearing up again. “I’ve... I’ve never…”

“Oh, don’t tell me you are a virgin. With such a pretty face, it’s hard to believe that.”

“It’s true. I'm in love with a dead guy,” you said in almost a whisper. After Jason died, you promised yourself to never be with anyone, and so, despite the many admirers who were constantly asking you out, you always declined, knowing they were nothing compared to your deceased beloved.

He seemed surprised at your confession, and he hesitated for a moment. But just as you took a breath of relief, his demeanour went back to what it was before. “Liar. Everybody knows you are a slut for your stupid boyfriend.”

You frowned. “I swear it’s the truth. I don’t even have a boyfriend.”

“Do you think I’m stupid, daredool?” You muttered a ‘no ’. “I’ve seen you and him together. Nightwing and Flamebird. Crime-fighters and lovers.”

You shook your head vehemently. “No, you got it all wrong. He’s my brother, I’m telling you. The boy I loved died years ago. So, please, I beg you, let me have this last symbol of loyalty to him. Don’t touch me where he never had the chance to.”

You wished he wasn’t wearing a helmet so you could have seen his expression as he pulled away the gun. You didn’t understand why he cared about this detail, but mentioning Jason seemed to have affected the Arkham Knight in one way or another. Perhaps this could buy you enough time to escape.

“Tell me more about this boy,” he demanded.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

You had to suppress a cheer as you finally pulled free a wire from the discarded armor. “Okay. His name was Jason. We were the same age,” you began, thinking carefully of what you could say without giving away your secret identity. “We were adopted by Batman at the same time. He trained to become Robin and I, Batgirl. Jason was smart, handsome, strong and passionate. I was in love with him for the whole time, but he only saw me as a friend. And then he died.”

“How did he die?”

By that point, you were crying freely. “The Joker… the Joker killed him.”

“If you loved him so much, why didn’t you avenge him?”

You didn’t know what to reply. The truth was that you had wanted to do just that, a life for a life. But Bruce always stopped you, saying you wouldn’t have been able to live with the guilt. “I couldn’t. Batman didn’t let me. But I should’ve. At least the Joker is dead now.”

You had opened up thinking that he would change his mind, but that hope was crushed as he spread your lips open and pressed the muzzle to your entrance. “If your Jason hadn’t died, would you have allowed him to do this to you?” he asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice, as if it was a private joke only he understood.

“Yes,” you told him, not missing a beat. “If he was alive, I’d let him do anything.”

“And if I offered you a deal... You cum for me once and I’ll return him to life. Would you take it?”

“Yes. But you can’t bring him back. He exploded, not even Ra’s Al Ghul with his Lazarus pit could bring Jason back.”

“Just remember that you consented to it,” he gave as a last warning before shoving the gun into you. It slid in easily, the path well lubricated by your arousal. Still, it hurt. The barrel was wide and it felt like it was splitting you apart. The metal was cold and it was a sharp contrast to your own warmth. You wanted to shout to the Knight that you hadn’t consented to anything but you couldn't find your voice.

And then he began to move in and out of you. The pain melted into pleasure and your hips rocked automatically to meet his rhythm. His thumb circled your clit in ways that made your whole body shake with passion. Moans left your throat against your will and you knew he was smiling behind his mask. His pace quickened and you felt your orgasm building up.

You climaxed with an explosive scream, its sound covering the noise of the metal handcuffs hitting the ground. You were unable to move, your limbs were heavy and your vision blurred. Besides, in that very moment, you had no wish to leave.

The Knight holstered his gun and brought his hands to his helmet, slowly removing it. At first, you thought you were imagining things. But there was no denying it was him. You would recognize those blue eyes anywhere.

“Jay,” you yelled in joy, jolting up to throw your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug, the context of your reencounter completely erased by the sight of him. Your hands roamed his face, assuring you he was real.

“That’s me, daredoll.” Without the modulator, his voice was exactly the same as it had been when you had last seen him and you were flooded by a mixture of emotions.

New tears began to fall from your eyes, this time out of happiness. They were mirrored by his own as he reassured you time and time again that it was really him. He placed soft kisses all over your face and whispered secrets only he could possibly know. When your mouths finally met, it was everything you had ever dreamed of and more. You were lost in pure bliss. When you finally broke away you had a giant smile plastered onto your face. It was like all your dreams had come true.

He looked older, of course, but other than that, it was the same face from before: from the disheveled dark hair to the crooked smile. Then your gaze fell to his left cheek, where a “J” shaped scar marked his otherwise perfect skin. Your eyes widened in shock, and his smile faltered, a dark shadow crossing his face.

Your hand raised upwards to touch the scar and he turned away. “What happened to you?”, you asked quietly. The euphoria of finding him alive had run out and the situation once more hung heavy above you. And by hugging him, you had thrown away the chance of catching him by surprise, as he now knew you had freed your hands. Stop, you told yourself, he’s not the enemy anymore. There must be an explanation to it all. He would never intentionally hurt any of us. We are family.

“The Joker happened,” he stated simply. “He didn’t kill me, no. He kept me prisoner at Arkham this whole time. And none of you came looking for me.” There was anger in his voice, but also disappointment.

“That’s not true. Bruce tried to-”

“I DON’T CARE!” he shouted and stood up, his helmet tucked under his arm. “He tortured me, daredoll. The Joker did things so awful I can’t even put it into words. And no one stopped him. No one. Not you, not Bruce. Bruce. Bruce fucking Wayne. You know this is all his fault right? If he had gone to a fucking terapist instead of dressing up like a bat our lives wouldn’t be this messed up. I’m just trying to fix what he ruined.”

He began to walk away, his heavy steps echoing in the metal walls. He did have a point. If it wasn’t for Batman, there would be no Joker. Besides, who in their right mind would train children to fight? You had once thought that being chosen to be Batgirl was the highest honour possible, but right now, you felt like you had been manipulated to take on a duty that wasn’t yours.

You untied your legs and followed after him, grabbing his arm just before he could open the door. “Where are you going?”

“Away. I need some air,” he ran his finger through his hair, “I need to think. I-”

You shut him up with a tender kiss. “Don’t leave me. Not again,” you pleaded.

“You were the one who left me.”

His words shattered your heart. It hurt that he thought of it in that away. He’s not wrong, though. I should’ve done something. I shouldn’t have sat back and listened to Bruce.

“So tell me how to make it right. Please, Jay. I just want you. I don’t care if you are trying to kill Batman or to destroy the city, I wanna be with you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Let me show you.” Your voice broke as you spoke, words being cut in half by your sobbing. You didn’t know when you had started crying again, but now you couldn’t stop. “Whatever you are doing, you can count on me.”

You could see the doubt in his eyes. “You would turn your back to the only family you ever had?”

“ You are my family. Besides, I told you. For you, I’d do anything.”

He pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly, and placed a kiss on your forehead, like he used to do when you were kids. “I love you, daredoll.”

“I love you too, Jaybird.”

And with that, he escorted your out of the warehouse, careful to cover your exposed body with his on the way to the car. An hour later you stood in his headquarters dressed in an outfit matching his. He didn't admit to it, but the fact that he had an armor waiting for you proved that he had never given up hope that you still loved him.

Outside, a mass of soldiers waited in a semicircle, a fire lit in the middle of it. Your former uniform burned to ashes and fed the flames, which went high into the night sky.

“I introduce to you my partner, and your new captain,” Jason announced as you walked to his side. “Lady Arkham.”

Holding his hand, you raised your first to the sky. You glanced at him out of the corners of your eyes, still kind of wonderstruck on how it had all worked out. “Let’s make this city pay for tearing us apart.”

#jason todd #dc imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #reader #dc #Smut

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animemangasoul · 4 years

Text

Who Are You?

Summery: A Wizard takes away Tim’s memories of his least important person. Unfortunately for Damian, that’s him.

He doesn’t remember him. Doesn’t remember the little kid with the pinched face and uncertain eyes. He looks at him and he feels... something, but it’s not enough so he doesn’t pursue it. Just gives the little guy a wide smile and asks him his name. He must be important, he thinks. If he lives with Bruce.

“Damian.” The words are spoken softly, hesitantly, but they are also firm, strong. Tim feels like if he had known him, he would have admired him for that.

Instead he smiles even wider and reaches out a hand. “Tim,” he says in return and something flashes in the kid’s eyes; the sharp gaze darting between his outstretched hand to his face and then back to his hand again. Tim frowns. Maybe they hadn’t gotten along back--

But the kid doesn’t give him a chance to retract his offer, darting forward almost in desperation as he lungs forward to sandwich Tim’s fingers between his own two hands. “Pleasure to meet you again Timothy,” he blurts out; cheeks turning beat red as he does. But Tim can only smile, because the sincerity behind the halting words are very evident.

He wonders if they’d gotten along well.

He wonders if they did, why had he forgotten him.

The least important person the wizard had said..... So why Damian?

The rest of them, his family were firmly lodged in his brain. He could remember their every laugh, their every hug, tears, smiles, love. Good, bad, ugly. He remembered it all. Bruce with his confidence and safety, Cass with her warm hug and kisses. Dick with his laughter and comfort. Jason with his honesty and wild personality. Duke with his brilliance and gentleness. Alfred with his Alfredness.

Remembering them wasn’t hard because the memories of them have never left him. So why Damian? Why him?

------------------

He wonders about it for the rest of the week. Especially when he hears the kid’s last name.

The little kid who skitters around the corners. The kid who doesn’t quite know how to laugh but his eyes would still manage to give him away every single time he found something funny.

The little Robin who must have inherited the mantle after him and carried it with dignity and respect that must have made Tim’s heart bloom with pride.

Damian Wayne.

His little brother.

His only little brother.

And yet..... He didn’t remember him.

Least important.

Why?

---------------

Dick finds him one morning standing in front of the family portrait. The hall is empty except for the two of them, and when Dick comes to a stop next to him, neither speaks for a long while.

Tim is busy examining the expressions on everyone’s faces. And Dick, well, Tim wasn’t quite sure what he was doing but he leaves him to it. Dick would talk when he felt like it and not a second earlier.

“If you can’t remember him, how do you remember Duke?”

The words are no louder than a whisper and Tim can feel the unease coming off of his older brother in waves, but he elects not to comment on it. Instead he shrugs and focuses his gaze on the little face of the forgotten kid standing regally next to Bruce.

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know!”

Tim scoffs. “A wizard messed with my head Dick.”

His brother winces and Tim finds himself smiling at that. Damian and Dick were much alike. It was cute.

“Did we get along?”

“What?”

Sighing, Tim leans forward to press a light finger against Damian’s painted face. “Did we get along? Me and Damian?” Scrutinizing the stern gaze and the almost hunched shoulders of the kid, Tim wonders what he must have been afraid of in this frozen moment. “I’ve always wanted a little brother you know.”

Dick remains quiet for an inordinate amount of time.

His silence tells a full story, so when Dick finally musters up a casual. “Yes, but you were both just kids so you disagreed sometimes.” He hums in agreement and lets its slide.

Dick was lying to him but Tim did not elect to hold it against him.

Pretty little lies could make even the best of men tempted in telling them and whatever dynamic he and Damian currently held most be infinitely better for Dick than their previous shared history.

Still, ‘strike one Dick,’ he thinks as he turns around to make his way down to the kitchen, he was hungry after all. ‘Lying doesn’t suit you big brother.’

“Wait.”

Foot frozen midair, Tim drags his eyes up from the stairs and back to the silent figure by the portrait. Dick looks so very still.

“Yeah?”

One hand coming up to run through his hair, his older brother gives him a sheepish smile; eyes gleaming suspiciously but smile as sincere as ever.

“You got along better at the end. Damian he.... you guys weren’t.... you didn’t like each other in the beginning,” Dick pauses and there is pain there, in those words. Bitter pain. Protective, angry.

Something most have been stolen from him too Tim supposes. And it hurts more because Dick remembers. Whatever built relationship he and Damian had most have meant more to Dick than he was letting on.

Interesting.

“Thank you for telling me.” He leaves at that. Not without a second glance or thought.

Dick doesn’t follow him. Tim thinks that’s for the best.

----------------

“You hated him?”

Tim blinks in surprise. “Really?”

Kon nods. Eyes on the bright screen and tongue sticking out in concentration. “Yup.”

“Why?”

Kon curses loudly; leaning back and dragging the controller with him to avoid the upcoming wall. “I don’t know man,” he grits out. “You never got along and Dick used to pit you guys against each other or something. Choosing sides and shit.”

“Why?”

Shrugging, his best friend elects not to answer the question. “Beats me.”

Frowning in confusion, Tim nods slowly. “That’s super weird right? I mean, Dick wouldn’t do something like that. That’s not who he is. Or at least who I remember him to be.”

Kon shrugs again. “Never liked the guy so don’t ask me dude.”

Tim thinks about it for a second but then he too picks up his controller and Kon restarts the game. It really didn’t matter in the end, did it?

So what if he’d hated Damian in the beginning for some weird reason. The kid seemed pleasant enough last time he saw him so maybe he’d changed. Jason had managed it after all and well, Tim had frequently encountered and even befriended less than decent people before. So a little kid like Damian couldn’t be quite that bad right?

Maybe he needed to have a sit down and actually talk to him.

Talking to everyone else about how he was supposed to feel about Damian wasn’t really working after all. They most have had some form of relationship if the kid looked hurt when he didn’t remember him. It couldn’t have been all antagonistic, their relationship. And it couldn’t have been all that great either.

Maybe they’d reached a sort of an in between.

----------------

Finding the time to talk to Damian proves to be difficult. Not only is work literally drowning him in stress and gives him less free time than a man working three jobs but turns out Damian was avoiding him.

It becomes all too obvious when he turns a corner one day and is met with the startled gaze of the kid who then; unable to avoid him any other way, actually turns around abruptly and sprints away.

Tim is left standing there with an outreached hand and a mouth open for a yell that never leaves his lips.

After that, it becomes more and more difficult to pin the kid down. No matter what he does; waking up early, coming home an hour before his time, choosing to patrol with batman instead of alone, he can’t seem to get the kid to talk to him.

Somehow, that hurts.

Not in the normal sense of faint disappointment. Not in the way of feeling sad because a stranger elected to be rude to you, no. It was this gut punching pain that just wouldn’t go away.

He didn’t even know him, but it hurt. It really really hurt and Tim didn’t like that one bit.

Damian Wayne.

He needs to talk to him. Nothing was going to fix this otherwise. Even if he doesn’t remember him, he.....

“He’s hiding at my apartment ya know. That’s why you can’t find him.”

Tim practically jumps out of his skin. “What the hell Jay!”

His older brother grins. A savage sort of smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he barely seems to refrain from outright laughing at him.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Jason snorts. “And if you wanna catch the little brat you better go now.” And with that he disappears behind the roofline, leaving Tim to glare after him.

“Jerk.”

--------------------------

“Found you!”

This time it’s Damian’s turn to jump out of his skin and well, Tim would definitely be lying if he said he didn’t see why Jason loved doing it so much.

“What.... why are you here Drake?”

Landing soundlessly on the floor, Tim shuts the window behind him before shuffling over to where Damian is sitting, careful not to trigger another run. “I just want to talk.”

The little guy glares at him. A proper glare with death threats and all. Tim is mildly amused. “Won’t you give me five minutes? Please?”

Damian flinches. “I do not wish to speak with you Drake.” He sounds young and scared and..... Tim doesn’t quite understand how he could have ever hated this kid.

“I don’t remember you,” he says slowly, the words leaving his mouth easily enough, but somewhere deep down, at the very bottom of his soul he finds himself retching at the casualness with which he says them.

It doesn’t help that the kid can’t quite hide the brief flair of hurt that dances through his eyes.

Fuck.

“I already know that Drake,” he snaps, but Tim steps forward, waving his arms frantically. “I didn’t mean it like that ki—Damian!” Swallowing thickly, he tries to take a deep breath. “Look, I just..... I don’t remember you that’s true. But,” he carries on quickly preventing Damian from cutting him off. “I would like to remember you again and just...” here he gives a helpless shrug. “Wanna help me find the wizard who did this and make him change me back?”

Clearly that’s not what Damian had been expecting him to say, for his supposed little brother is standing on the other side of Jason’s living room, silently gaping at him.

Tim bites down on his tongue to stop himself from saying anything stupid that’ll ruin things. And then--

“Why?” Damian’s voice is angry and suspicious, but it’s also pained and confused and.... Tim just wants to hug him. No kid should ever look that forlorn, ever.

“I want my memories back and I want to remember you,” he answers instead, giving the kid his most winning smile.

“Why?”

Sighing, Tim drops the smile and gives the kid an almost helpless look, because..... what do you say to that? How can he possible explain the disparity between what he’s feeling and what he knows. That his mind might not recall the little kid in front of him, who looks so much like Bruce, but his heart does.

How can he just....

“I think you’re worth remembering,” he settles for in the end. “You might not have been part of my most important memories, but you were still important to me and that’s why the spell worked.” This time when he tries to smile, it comes out rather sad, a bit empty, slightly heartbroken. “We were getting there, weren’t we? Becoming brothers?”

Damian looks away and that tells him everything.

“Let me remember you.” Tim says, an almost plea breaking through his faked bravado.

This time when Damian looks back at him, it’s not fear or hurt or pain he sees, but a quiet sense of determination. It’s shaky and still uncertain, but it eases something within Tim. “So what do you say?” He asks again just to make sure.

The kid nods. “Very well Drake. You have yourself a deal.”

Tim grins and Damian, well Damian smiles just the tiniest bit and for the first time in days, Tim feels as if something broken in his heart has finally been put back together again.

It’ll work out in the end. Tim wouldn’t let it end any other way.

The End

@punjabj-ninja @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @river9noble

Anyone else who wants to be tagged please let me know. Or untagged either way :)

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 years

Text

Right Hand Man (Loyal to the End) Pt. 8

Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Synopsis: You were like Talia’s daughter. The only thing was that you weren’t and instead, you had grown up in the foster care system and at a young age were taken by and personally trained by Talia. Along the way, you meet Damian and the two of you start to work side by side and eventually, after some time become closer and closer. However, when disaster in the league strikes, you face balancing an old, forgotten life as a normal child and the burden of right hand to the demon heir.

Note: I know that this is long and that there are a good number of time skips, but I didn’t want to make this into a series and just wanted it as a long fic because .... well because I can lol

Also, I didn’t want to have Damian so young in this so just go with it. I’m thinking maybe early 15 or almost 16 at the most. Idk I just don’t like writing for young Dami.

Warnings: angst, almost losing someone, buildings on fire, bombs, the usual lol

Word Count: 2181

Masterlist for Series

Both you and Damian had now been secretly dating for two months. It was an exhausting game of cat and mouse of either running from his family, or the prying eyes of the press. You had just excepted at this point that this was just going to be a new normal for a long time. There was nothing you could seriously complain about much however. This was all you had wanted for years and if the company of clandestine meetings was going to be a center of attention in this relationship, that was what was going to happen.

Dates were mainly just tea or coffee on the rooftops late at night for only a short amount of time if it was on patrol, and longer if it was at the manor. Right now, you were sitting in the library, laying in Damian’s lap, both reading your own books. No one but Alfred was in the manor however, you were sure that he knew about you and Damian. Light streamed in through the windows and silence blanketed the room as Damian ran his fingers through your hair, occasionally braiding it. You fiddled with the matching golden ring on your left ring finger some as he did this. This was the most relaxed you had been in years and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

He didn’t know this until recently, but the only professor that had ever lived was one that you had. Your voice professor used to braid your hair during warm ups. She was the closest thing that you had ever had to a mother and in return for this, you begged Talia to let her live. You decided not to make it out so that you trusted or cared for her, but rather that she had connections to people that the league could use. With this tactic, Talia actually allowed her to leave but under a life- long oath of secrecy to protect the league. You braid your own hair when you were stressed or anxious but it’s better having someone else do it. Damian only found out when you started braiding and braiding your own hair in the roof tops one night at the league, only to let the piece unravel and start again.

“Beloved are you going to go on patrol tonight?” He asked breaking the silence.

“Of course.” You answered, “Is there a reason you asked?”

“No, I was just checking.”

“...Damian, how long do you think we’re going to stay a secret? I’m not upset or anything of the sort, it’s just a bit exhausting sometimes.” You questioned, flipping the page of your book.

“I don’t really know Beloved. How long do you think you’d want to stay like this?” Damian set down his book to give the conversation his attention seeing as this one was important.

You audibly sighed as he started braiding a portion of your hair, twisting it around and then letting it lose again, “I don’t really know, 3 months at most maybe?”

“Are you tired of seeing strangers online pine away after me?” He asked smirking.

You rolled your eyes and jokingly slapped his arm making him laugh, “What about me? I’ve seen plenty of suitors for myself.”

“Don’t remind me Y/N.”

“Oh no, I’ll remind you. First there was one that actually messaged me asking if I was single. Oh, another that tweeted asking if I was single. Then, there was another that mailed a love letter to the man-“

Damian cut you off, putting his hand over your mouth making you laugh. You sat up and sat crisscrossed in his lap facing him, running your fingers through his hair.

“You didn’t really think you could shut me up that easily did you demon?” You asked quietly.

“I’d gage you would find a way to get your point across any way you could General.” He kissed the corner of your lips which made you glare at him some before pulling him in for a real kiss.

“Next time some girl gets a hold of you at a gala though, just make sure not to charm her for me, will you?”

“Whatever you say.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Patrol started off boring and uneventful. Nothing exciting was happening but for maybe a few ally level crimes. You and Damian were perched on the rooftops looking down at the city lights and occasional people. Damian had obviously gotten the whole Robin outfit, in his own version of course. You however, took the same style as your past uniform. It was similar in the sense that it was amour and a hood, you still had your knives and compartments, this time though, the color was different. He couldn’t see the look on your face through the mask you were wearing which covered your lower face to your eyes, but he was sure you were bored. He was going to start a conversation when the comms came on with Bruce talking loudly.

“I need everyone at the Rosehill Apartments on 7th Street! There’s multiple bombs spread throughout the building, civilians are inside.”

You looked at Damian who nodded at you before you both swung off the building.

“ETA 2 minutes.” You replied back getting onto your own bike and speeding off towards 7th St. following Damian.

_______________________________________________________________________

Upon arrival to the building, you could see that everyone else was already inside but for Nightwing who on crowd duty until you two had gotten there.

“There’s one more bomb in the kitchens. Everyone else is either getting their own or helping the residences escape.”

You looked around for an entrance that wasn’t in terrible condition. Once you found one you ran towards it at full speed with a bomb on your mind.

“Stick close, the roof might not be stable anymore.” You said, “If the bomb goes off, I expect you to leave immediately.”

“Beloved I’m not leaving you if anything happens.” Robin replied running beside you.

You didn’t reply, instead bursting into the kitchen and jumping over one of the carts in the way of your path. Using the locator on your wrist device, you scanned the room stopping when it got a hit.

“It’s in the freezer!” You ran over and opened the door into the large room, “Hold this open and make sure it doesn’t close, I’ll disarm the bomb.”

Damian nodded and did what you said as you went inside and ripped open one of the floorboards to find a massive collecting of wires and buttons connected onto one device. The type of timebomb was one that you had seen plenty of times before in training and when you yourself had used them. Part of training was learning to make one so it wasn’t too terribly difficult to disarm this one. The hard part was getting out.

“Y/S/H/N!” You heard from behind you as you were about to stand up, “The place is on fire.” Damian called out, “We have to leave!” You turned around and saw the place ablaze. Damian already had his other mask up over his face so he could breathe when you got out of the freezer. The two of you started running out to find the hallway also up in flames.

“Don’t come near the kitchens, the whole place is going up in flames.” You said, “Bomb has been disarmed however.”

“Good, now get out of there.” Batman replied back.

“Working on that.”

You and Damian sprinted down the hallway making sure no one else was inside on your way out. Once in the lobby you turned hearing someone screaming from a room nearby.

“I’ll be right back.” You said turning around locating the person who was a small child.

“I can’t find my Mommy.” She said sobbing into your arms.

“I promise you I’ll find her.” You said running back up front, “I’m going to give you to Robin and he’ll take you outside, I’ll find your mommy.”

You reached the front of the building where Robin was, “Take her, she can’t find her mother, I’m going in after her.”

“You can’t, the building is going to come down at any minute!” Damian said taking the girl in his arms.

“I have to check, I can’t let her grow up without parents like I did.”

_______________________________________________________________________

You ran inside not really aware of what was happening outside anymore. Looking around you saw no sign of anyone but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t be buried under something. As you did this, you pulled out the scanner again but this time had it scan for biological creatures instead of machinery. There was nothing at the point where you were. Going farther into the structure was a no go at this point but it was your only option.

Outside, Damian was trying to find the girl’s mother in the crowd as he mentally cursed himself for allowing you to go inside. He should’ve done more, he could’ve done more but he didn’t. Running to the line of ambulances, he looked for someone that matched the girl’s description of her mother. When he finally found the person, he rushed over just in time for the lady to see her daughter and burst into tears. She hugged her daughter and thanked Damian for bringing her back to her before Damian rushed back to find you.

“Y/N!” He screamed getting inside catching your attention.

Further down the hallway you heard Damian yelling for you. You turned around and started headed quickly for him and once he saw you, he announced that they had found the mother outside of the building. The two of you started running for the exit when you looked up hearing a faint beeping. The exit was 50 feet ahead and the closer to it you got, the louder the sound.

“Damian! There’s a bomb above us, I- I think it’s about to blow.” You said as pieces of wood from the building came down little by little, “5 seconds now!”

Damian had a look of terror as he picked up the pace. You knew that both of you wouldn’t make it without a little boost so you got behind Damian and launched him out of the way where Nightwing was standing right as the building was coming down. The last thing you heard was a defining thunder and then the screams Damian who was kicking and trying to get away from Nightwing to go back for you.

“Y/N is still inside you idiot let me go!” He sobbed trying to elbow his oldest brother in the rib.

The second round of explosions came, only making the structure collapse more, fire raining down.

“Beloved!” He screeched making Nightwing almost drop him in surprise at what he called you.

He understood why Damian was fighting so hard now, but that didn’t mean that he could let him go. The rest of the family standing by heard it as well. It would’ve been hard to miss anyways.

“You can’t go in after her!” Nightwing yelled over the explosion.

“I have to! She’s the only one I have, I have to go! Let me go!” Damian got lose just as the dust was settling.

He ran to where he last saw you and started digging, tears filling his eyes so that he couldn’t see. There was no chance you were still alive and if you were, it wouldn’t be for long. That was when he heard you try and move something. He was looking in the wrong place, only a few feet away. When he saw where you were, he lifted the piles of wood and debris off of you to find you badly injured and hardly awake.

“Beloved stay awake for me okay?” He said lifting you up out of the rubble.

There was a part of your side where you had gotten impaled. It didn’t look like it hit any vital organs, however, you were bleeding out rapidly.

He swept the hair out of your face and gently held you to him as he ran for the Batmoblie quickly trailed by everyone else. With you in the backseat, Nightwing front, and Batman driving, you were quickly headed for the cave. Damian wrapped your wounds tightly and held your head up in his lap checking your pulse every few seconds.

“How is she?” Bruce asked sparing a glance at the back seat.

“Unwell, I-I don’t know how she’s still alive.” Damian responded.

“Enhanced strength from the pit.” You groaned some in pain.

“What the hell?!” Dick turned around to see you trying to sit up, “Enhanced strength my ass, how many times did you take a dip?”

That earned a sharp glare from Damian and a reprimand from Bruce. He apologized realizing that he overstepped.

“Beloved don’t move like that, just stay down.” Damian said gently, “You’ll only hurt yourself more.

Getting to the cave, you don’t remember much, just waves of pain and floating in and out of consciousness. The only part that you really remember was the worst part, but that was later to come when everyone really thought you would die.

Tag List-

@we-want-mini-mini @a-door-into-my-mind @idkmanicantenglish @queengeorgiaaa @lucy-roo @wolfiemichele @grey-water-colors @random-fandom-girl-24 @crumpets-are-better-with-jam

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preciousthingsareprecious · 3 years

Text

With a Heart of Scars Chapter 9

The biggest thanks to @dreamer-247re for creating incredible art for this chapter. It’s stunning and gorgeous and still takes my breath away every time I look at it!

This one’s Damian’s POV again, and I hope you guys enjoy it <3

AO3 Link

The moment Grayson dropped into the building the connection to his comm went silent, and nothing Damian tried could get it to turn back on. He suspected some kind of interference, if people had been trapped in that building for hours, something was blocking their phone signals, and that same something was probably interrupting their comm line as well. Not that either of them had thought of that before Grayson entered.

A stupid miscalculation on Damian's part. One he would not repeat again.

Damian found an external camera he could hack, and caught sight of a hooded figure whose shape was roughly the same as that of one of the people who had set up the strange twister game. The person was fiddling with something blocky that Damian couldn’t quite make out, before pressing it to the side of the building.

Could it be a bomb? A listening device of some sort? He wasn’t sure, and he couldn’t hail Grayson. But, perhaps he could send backup Batman’s way.

“Oracle, I need your assistance.”

“Hey Lil’ D, what’s up?” Gordon asked, sounding far too bright for this hour, and curious.

He ignored the outrageous nickname usage, “Are the Birds close to the downtown shopping district?”

“Batgirl and Black Bat are currently stowed away on a ship, getting ready to turn it around. Why?”

“Tt, Batman is in need of backup. There are unknown hostiles approaching him and a possible bomb threat, but I cannot contact him.”

“I’ll give it a shot on my end. Is Tim home yet? Can he head out?”

Damian ground his teeth. No his brother, and Grayson’s supposed partner, had not returned yet. If he had, he had not made it known to any of them. There was no one to back Batman up. No one but Damian himself.

He shoved aside all thoughts of possible punishment for going out without permission, and pushed his chair away from the desk.

“No. He is not.” Damian stood, “It seems it is up to me to handle the situation. Oracle, stay on this line so that when Pennyworth comes down you can inform him of the situation.”

He looked down at himself and frowned. He was wearing a brightly colored shirt Pennyworth had purchased him, featuring a cartoon dog on the front. There was no way he could rescue Batman in that.

He hurried to the lockers and grabbed the first dark thing he could find, a black hoodie. It turned out to not be solid, but had a Nightwing emblem splashed across the front. The sleeves were also too long, but Damian easily rolled those up, before tugging the hood over his hair. Then he grabbed an extra domino mask and affixed it to his face. Lastly, he grabbed one of Drake’s Robin belts. Grayson had made Damian take inventory of the belt a number of times to get familiar with its contents, and he was confident it was small enough to fit him. It also would have medical supplies and weapons to defend himself if the situation called for it. He didn’t bother changing out of his black jeans or tennis shoes, both would do fine for the rescue mission.

Through his quick change, he ignored Oracle’s requests for more information, and demands that he stay right there and send Alfred instead. Damian respected Pennyworth, but he didn’t want to waste time.

Besides, this was partially his fault, and he was the only one who really knew how to fly the Batmobile. It would be the fastest way to reach Grayson.

Damian was quite proud of his achievement. After growing bored of exploring the cave systems, and discovered some of Father’s schematics and future plans to make his car fly and had taken to making those plans a reality. He had even gotten permission to work on it. Grayson had happily supplied not only permission, but any supplies he needed when Damian had asked. He was further encouraged by the fact that the man had come downstairs to sit with him a few times. However, it was Damian's project and he was most familiar with the systems. He had not even had time to tell anyone that he’d actually managed to get it to fly.

Gordon must have called Pennyworth, because Damian spotted the man hurrying down the stairs as he climbed into the car.

“Master Damian, wait!” he called.

Damian ignored the request, closing the door, and starting the engine. He felt a little bad for ignoring Pennyworth, but time was of the essence and he needed to get to Grayson. He hoped Pennyworth would not be too upset with him as he raced past the man and out the exit, but he would have to understand just how important this was. There was no time left to dally if he were to stop something bad from happening to the man he was beginning to consider family.

A few meters out of the cave, Damian hit the button to begin the car’s flying sequence. After a brief moment of panic that it would not work, slowly but surely it lifted off, and Damian's shoulders relaxed minutely. Soon he was zooming over trees and streets, and obstacles that would have cut into the time it took to get to Grayson’s location.

He fretted as he flew, his mind coming up with every terrible thing that could happen, his stomach growing sicker at each thought. Most of all, he couldn't stop thinking about why he was betraying every house rule to rush out and save Grayson.

When had he really started to care about him? When had it become more than his just using the man to learn more about his Father? He’d come to respect Grayson quickly, that was certain. But this sick feeling of worry was one Damian had only held for his mother on the rare occasion she was late returning from a dangerous mission.

Damian tolerated Brown and Todd and Cain, but Grayson? He looked forward to seeing the man. Had come to enjoy his smiles, and even put up with his nicknames. They were warm, like a blanket wrapped around his shoulders when he was tired, or a coat on a cold day.

It was stupid. And weak. And foolish. Feelings like this were compromising, they would get him killed. Make him run headlong into danger without a thought for himself, much like he was doing now. But Damian found he didn’t care about being weak in that sense. It hurt to imagine not caring about Grayson. And so he fretted. He fretted and worried and ignored the pinging of a message from Oracle.

That sick feeling in Damian’s chest exploded into awful panic as Main Street finally came into view and he caught sight of what used to be Wonderland, now a smoking wreck, collapsed in on itself.

He held his emotions in check long enough to take the car down, right onto the street and bolt out of it.

“Batman!” he yelled, bolting for the wreckage “Where are you?”

Damian should not be panicking. Panic made one miss things, it made them sloppy. But Batman had been in the building. It had blown up. He could be--Grayson might be--

No. Grayson would be fine. Damian would find him, and get him home, and he would be fine.

He scanned the rubble of the building, and yelled for Batman again, his voice raspy in the smoke billowing around. Belatedly he remembered the domino was equipped with some basic alternate vision options, Damian poked at it until it showed heat signatures.

It didn’t look like the building had caught fire, thank goodness, but there was a large area of warmth towards where the back would have been that radiated out into other areas.

“Batman!” he called again, vision slowly creeping across rubble.

He had no idea how deep the lenses would penetrate. Some parts of the rubble were raised higher than others, like they’d all fallen in that direction, while others were spars, bits and pieces here and there still showing the floor that had once been inside.

“Here.” the word was faint, and trailing at the end, but it gave Damian hope.

He jerked his attention towards the sound, and there! A figure, the heat registering as cooler than Damian wanted it to be, but that could have been the weather or injury or just rubble blocking it. Whatever it was, he bolted in it’s direction, only turning off the filter when he was close enough to clearly see Batman.

He was on his back, partially trapped under fallen drywall. Damian had missed him on his first glance due to the drywall’s angle, tilted up and slightly against Grayson to block him from proper view.

“Batman!” He called again, and started climbing over the rubble as carefully as he could without risking dislodging something and shifting the whole pile, “I am on my way.”

His heart was racing. He was terrified, he realized. Afraid of what he’d find. Afraid of what had happened. Afraid to be too late, even now.

When he reached Batman, he dropped to his knees to examine him. The most obvious injury was the blood that seeped out from under his cowl. Everything else was hidden under the fallen drywall.

“Batman, I am going to have to lift this, brace yourself.” he said.

“Nightwing?” Grayson asked, the word slurring, “What?”

Damian looked down at his hoodie and the Nightwing emblem emblazoned on it, “Oh. No, you idiot. It is me. Now hold still while I lift this.”

He leaned forward, and gripped the drywall to lift it. It was lighter than Damian imagined it to be, but still quite heavy. When he got it up high enough, he shifted to shove his shoulder under it to help him leverage it even higher and then away, angled just far enough that his brother’s body was revealed.

“Scoot back.” Damian grunted.

Thankfully, Grayson seemed to have enough sense to listen. He dragged himself back from Damian and the drywall, moving just far enough that after a moment, Damian let the whole thing drop again with a crash.

His shoulder ached, but he had more important things to worry about than it. He quickly examined Batman, the suit on Grayson’s right thigh had been torn open by something, and his leg was slowly oozing blood. The wound did not seem to be serious enough for Damian to stop and take care of it now, so instead he focused on getting the man home for a full check up and proper medical attention.

He leaned over to take Grayson by the arm, “Come, we are leaving.”

He hauled his brother up onto unsteady legs. Grayson stood for a few seconds before slumping. He would have fallen if Damian hadn’t caught him, still the man was much taller than him, and carrying him was going to be difficult.

“This is not going to be comfortable, Batman.” Damian said, “But we will make it work.”

He tugged one of Grayson’s arms over his shoulder, and gripped the back of Batman's utility belt as tightly as he could under the cape to help hoist him up, and then started forward. He was basically dragging Grayson as they moved, and because of that he could not be as careful moving across the rubble. Thankfully, he was not worried about further crushing his brother, so the only real obstacle was tripping or dislodging something so that he fell into a hole.

Grayson seemed to come a bit back to himself, at least enough to speak, “But I’m Nightwing?”

Damian shook his head, “No, as I explained, you are Batman, I am--” he dreaded having to use the nickname, “Lil’ D.”

His brother shook his head, “No, no, I’m Nightwing. Batman is--Bruce is--”

“Grayson, Father is-- he is gone.” Damian said, “You are Batman now.”

That was the wrong thing to say because it made Grayson try to pull away from his grip. He was confused, and hurting, which added some strength to his attempts and threatened to topple them both.

“No!” Grayson cried, “I don’t want to be Batman. I never-- I don’t have to because Bruce is.”

His attempts to get away from Damian finally succeeded in making Damian slip, a stone dislodged from under his foot, and then the ground disappeared and Damian fell down, then to the side. He lost his grip on Grayson, and landed hard on his already aching shoulder.

Behind him, he heard rumbling as the structure shifted. He felt the vibrations under his palms as he pushed himself up, to spin and search for his brother.

Grayson had landed on his knees, and was staring down at the bat on his chest, one hand brushing over it.

“Father is dead, Grayson.” Damian snapped, as he stepped over to lift Grayson again.

“That is why you are Batman, now act like it and pull yourself together for a moment.”

Normally, he would not have cared about being so brusque, but even with the cowl covering most of his face the effect of Damian’s words on Grayson was obvious. He looked like a kicked puppy. It twisted Damian’s heart, but he couldn’t waste time on feelings. He needed to get Grayson home, first and foremost. Then worry about the hurt his words caused.

He managed to drag Grayson off the rubble and back to the car. It took some work to get him settled in the passenger’s seat, but Grayson had stopped fighting him, and was mostly responsive to directions.

It did not take long for Grayson to pass out once they were moving. Damian tried to wake him, but there was no autopilot function build into the flying portion of the car yet --he had that on his list of activities for next week-- so he had to focus on getting them home, and hoping that Grayson would be fine.

He did phone the Batcave to update Pennyworth on their status. The butler’s anger was quickly set aside for worry, and a flood of questions about Grayson’s condition. Damian did his best to describe it, and estimate an arrival time.

Pennyworth took over when Damian finally parked. He went from being in command of the situation to following whatever directions were aimed at him, and he did so happily. Grayson had woken again when they moved him from the car, and was now babbling about Father. He was alternating between asking where he was and crying over losing him.

The guilt Damian had been able to ignore earlier came back at those words, and he felt terrible for snapping at his brother. He felt even worse that he could not seem to muster any grief over his father. Not in the same way Grayson was feeling it now. He was too concerned about his brother. His not quite partner who he’d almost lost tonight. Who had been out because of a Father who was not there. Who was alone because of a father Drake was still searching for. Who was now crying out for that same father.

He did his best to ignore the strange twist of emotions in his chest and help Pennyworth instead. He collected blankets, lifted Grayson’s head, and handed over bandages as they were requested.

Damian finally stopped moving when Grayson was at last sleeping and settled into a medical cot. He could not leave Grayson, no matter how conflicted looking at the man made him. So Damian settled in a chair and declared he’d keep an eye on him while Pennyworth got some rest.

He tugged his legs up, onto the chair, so he could wrap his arms around them, and rested his chin on his knees. Somewhere in all the chaos, the sleeves of his borrowed hoodie had slipped down, and fallen over his hands to flop. Damian didn’t bother re-rolling them, but instead enjoyed the way they gave him a feeling of being further wrapped up, snuggled in something tight and comforting.

Sitting there, his odd feelings from earlier returned. He called them odd because he had not had time to pick at the strange ball of emotion in his chest and sort out what it all meant.

There was irritation with himself over this attachment. He could hear mother’s voice in his head, chiding him and reminding him that love was a weakness. That caring about others only held one back. She was right of course, Damian had thrown all caution to the wind, disobeyed Pennyworth, and Oracle and run headlong after Grayson over a hunch. It had been correct, but even that was neither here nor there in consideration of the danger it had posed.

The caring itself was another factor Damian turned over in his head, like he had turned the batarangs Grayson had shown him how to sharpen in his hands. Love, or at the very least, like, was dangerous. It was sharp, like the ends of the batarang, and would cut him if he was not careful, but it was also warm, like Grayson’s words had been. Gentle like his hands had felt in adjusting Damian’s grip. Something soft and happy like Damian’s heart had felt at Grayson’s praise.

Damian looked back down at his brother. Grayson’s arms were laid out on top of the light blanket covering him. One hand was already showing bruising, ugly black and blue splotches where he must have raised them in defense. The bruises flowed down his forearm, and ended in a bullseye on his elbow. It made Damian wince just imagining it.

He released his hold on his legs and brushed a hand across the back of Grayson's palm, considering taking it in his own. Then the man groaned, and shifted, his hand slipping away from Damian's feather light grasp. He swallowed, and wrapped his arm back around his legs to grab his other hand, before resting his chin on his knees to continue his vigil.

#Damian Wayne #Dick Grayson #fanfiction #with a heart of scars #chapter 9 #precious posts

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 3.3}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student (however no underage romance), blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.6k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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"You've got to be joking…" Robin groaned to herself more than to either of them and rolled her eyes in exasperation. Right… this still was a public place, even at night. After a second of collecting herself, she put on her game face and continued her way towards Snape's desk, where he mentioned for her to sit down as well. Honestly, she was only glad that she didn't have to sit at her own desk like some idiot in detention, and that probably was the exact reason why Snape made her sit up front with him now. At least Robin chose to read that intention into his actions now.

"Hey, why doesn't she have to write a stupid three page essay on valerian root?!" David complained a second later, with clearly more of a pout to his tone than would leave any room for dignity.

"Because unlike someone I'm not in detention." Robin replied neutrally but with a deathly glare. "Now shut up and do your work."

Surprisingly enough, David actually looked quite intimidated in return, but Robin had the faint idea that this might be more due to Snape's glare than her own. Huh, maybe she should have let him handle this… with him being… the professor… and all that… Robin looked down at the book in her hands and took a deep breath to counteract the heat burning on her cheeks.

"McGonagall found him sneaking around the hallways with one of her own students. A second year girl, who should be serving her own detention with Minerva right at this moment." Snape said, much to Robin's surprise. She hadn't expected an explanation for the ongoings, and certainly not coming from him on his own account. But she also couldn't help the barest hint of a smirk that came to her lips.

"So that should be the infamous tall-and-older girlfriend he keeps bragging about? I must say I'm disappointed… Is she tall at least?" Robin mumbled, hiding her smirk by looking down as she placed her book on the desk between herself and Snape.

"No." He replied in perfect indifference and Robin had to snort, however very quietly and very shortly.

"Pity…" She brought out in almost the same level of indifference that for her as well as for him was but a mere charade at this point.

"I can hear you, you know that?!" David complained, and this time Robin remembered her place for once and kept quiet.

"You already have two weekends worth of detention, should we make that three, Mister Thompson?" Snape asked with that particular expression that literally gave every student the jitters in utter terror. Well, every student but Robin, but he hadn't used it in her in a long time, so who knew how she'd react… Robin wasn't too keen on finding out. David looked back down to his work, probably intimidated just as much as angry, but at least he seemed to stay quiet this time.

"So, uh, yes…" Robin started to get back into work mode and effectively stop herself from getting tempted into sassing Snape. With David around, he surely would scold her rather than smirk, and she didn't have the nerve for that tonight. So back to the facts it was. "As I was saying earlier, I haven't memorized the entire book. But while flipping through the pages on my way back down here, I came across something interesting on page 132."

Without a word, Snape moved to flip to the mentioned page, and his frown melted away as he read over the text. However it returned once he reached the next page, and Robin hoped she hadn't suggested something entirely stupid and unrelated. Only once he'd read all three pages of related information, he finally looked back up at Robin. "Have you read the entire instructions?"

"Well, I hardly had enough time for that on my jog back here." She shrugged. "I read the description of the functionality, not the instructions or additional information."

He looked minorly surprised at that. "And that sufficed for you to believe that it might be of use?"

"I suggested it because it looked promising." She corrected. "One has to start somewhere. If it's rubbish, we at least know what we're NOT looking for."

"Interesting approach." He mused, and Robin felt momentarily stunned by how close that comment had gotten to an actual compliment. "I believe you discovered something that might very well be worth a try."

"But… maybe we should look through the rest of the book as well? Maybe there's another spell that fits even better?"

"Obviously." He rolled his eyes without any annoyance in them, and went to flip to about the middle of the book. "Up to which point do you sincerely remember the contents?"

"The last page I can remember for sure was about… repairing broken spines… it had a very peculiar picture in the top right corner. Somewhere in the 70s or 80s…" She sighed and gave him an apologetic half smile. "I always remember the contents and the layout better than the page numbers."

After a few seconds of flipping through pages, Snape pointed to the page Robin had described. "This one?"

"Yes! Page 78… I wasn't too far off then." She smiled to herself for a moment. "Up to that one I remember what every spell was about."

"Good." He merely said and started scanning every page from that point on. Seems like Snape put an odd lot of confidence in Robin's memory… but she really was certain about the contents up to that point. It was all very basic, short-term restoration and spells for every-day practical use. The one about broken spines on page 78 was the first one that was a bit more complicated and unusual in its use, and that is the only reason why Robin had remembered it. It was the first one she didn't care to remember.

For a moment Robin watched Snape reading, but then she felt stupid looking over his shoulder, even if only figuratively. He could assess these spells way better than she could, and if he found something suitable for the occasion he would probably show it to her. Maybe.

With a silent sigh she let her eyes travel over the almost empty room. It was an odd perspective to be looking out over the class from this side of his desk… but one could really see almost everything from here. Everything, happening in front of you. Nothing in your back. Yeah, Robin felt comfortable sitting here. Then she studied the desk itself, along with the few things on it. Perfectly organized chaos, as always… but for once she actually understood the system behind it, which pleased her quite a bit. She'd happily trade desks with him any day, and that even though she couldn't even imagine switching seats with someone in class. She'd been sitting in the same spots in each of the classrooms for over two years now… and she doubted that she'd ever willingly sit elsewhere. The great hall however was a different issue, she'd never had a specific seat there, so she was fine with switching tables in there. But this was a classroom, and she felt oddly comfortable in a space that wasn't her own. Huh…

Her eyes then fell upon the mysterious tome this entire fuss was about in the first place, and she was grabbed by curiosity. "May I… take a look at the book we aren't currently working with?" She inquired carefully, prepared to be right about being denied but equally prepared to be surprised.

"Be careful, it is… delicate." While delicate didn't seem like the word he had wanted to say, and she got a decent idea about why he didn't speak his mind once she heard David quietly groaning over his essay, Robin still understood the sentiment. This book was important, somehow. So she gave him a small nod with a sincere and serious expression, before she carefully moved the heavy thing over to her end of the desk.

The first few pages looked decent enough; there were handwritten descriptions of spells, some strange symbols and drawings… nothing that stood out in particular. But once Robin had actually read a few pages, she couldn't help the deep frown that creased her forehead. "This is absolute gibberish! It may look valid, but anyone who spends at least a little time studying this book would realize that these aren't even workable spells."

Now that got Snape's attention immediately, and seeing as he had finished skimming over Robin's book anyway, he turned his attention towards her entirety. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

"You see… for once, the actual words for the spells aren't even given. Not one single time! I mean alright, one could argue that the book is meant for wizards so advanced that they don't need words. You know… people like you." She regretted saying that the moment it was out. But maybe he would overlook the accidental compliment if she just continued. "However, what definitely strikes me as odd and leads me to the conclusion that this isn't even meant as a proper spell book is the technical terms used throughout the descriptions, as well as the names of the people mentioned."

Now he definitely looked curious, deeply intrigued to be exact, and even people who weren't practiced in reading his microexpressions would be able to see that. "What, pray tell, do you mean by that?"

"I'll gladly tell you in a moment, but just answer me one question first, please… because otherwise I'll feel really stupid in my assumption." Robin said quietly, not because she felt insecure, but because she couldn't have David hear this in case she made a fool out of herself. "When do you think this book was written?"

"I assume the manuscript itself is from the second half of the 16th century, but it was obviously rebound several times up to this point, which makes the binding by far younger."

"Okay. Okay…" Robin nodded to herself for a few seconds as her brain tried to make a coherent line out of the many different strings of thought in her mind. Then her eyes lit up as she started to explain. "So, the thing is: most of the terms, all the ones I know at least, are directly taken out of Renaissance culture. It's a colorful mixture of philosophy, architecture, literature, music… And the names, I recognize them from this time period as well. But they all have nothing to do with magic, not even the slightest bit. It's like… putting numbers into the alphabet!"

Snape seemed genuinely interested in what Robin was saying, and he looked up from the book to meet her eyes. "How exactly did you come to know Renaissance culture?"

"I had a lot of time two summers ago and attended some classes. At a muggle university. I know, not very appropriate for a Slytherin, but oh well… I was horribly bored. To be honest, I had already forgotten most of the things I learned, but reading these names and terms now definitely brings back a lot of it. I mean, I at least know that they're things from the Renaissance." She shrugged with one shoulder, as she felt like the biggest nerd in history and yet the biggest failure for having forgotten most of those classes already. "Anyway, if the manuscript was written in the 16th century, that would explain the Renaissance influence. Now, I do have some more… theories, about the book. But I wouldn't want to bore you, sir, I'm sure you already know all of this and I'm just… babbling. Sorry."

"In fact, I was previously unaware of this connection to muggle history and culture, and I dare say I would not have learned about it without your babbling. So please, do enlighten me about your theories." He said calmly, giving her one of those still entirely unreadable looks. "You have my fullest attention."

"Well…" Heat rose to Robin's cheeks once again, and she couldn't quite believe that she had discovered something he hadn't yet noticed. "The book is basically a spell book written with muggle terms… and it surely requires extensive knowledge of both worlds to write something like this. So my first assumption is that the author was a half blood… or a muggle born. But it doesn't matter, actually. The thing about knowing both worlds really leads me to believe that the author knew what they were talking about, and thus the gibberish was intentional gibberish. And if the gibberish is intentional, it makes me wonder what the intention of this book is in the first place. You say a page is missing… What if the entire book was merely created to hide that one page?"

Going by the look Snape was giving her once she had finished her sentence, Robin had just said the dumbest thing in the existence of nonsense. Great. Insecurity finally showed on her face as she still held his gaze. She just wanted to help him, to solve this mystery…

"I agree." That was what he finally replied, before briefly gazing at the still working David and then looking back at Robin. "Your theses… will serve as a decent basis for any further efforts."

What?! He thought she was right?! Robin's lips curved up into a small smile. "Uh, if I may ask, sir… did you find a spell for restoring the page? If it really is the sole purpose of the book to hide whatever is written on it, I'm actually even more curious to know what its secret is."

"Likewise." He mused, quietly enough so that Robin could barely pick up on it, but then he spoke up in a normal voice. "I still consider the method you suggested the most suitable." Upon Robin's frown, he added, "Page 132."

"Ah… Maybe I should consider reading the entire thing then." She smiled and carefully closed his book, while switching its place with her own book on the desk. Only then a thought caused her heart to sink in an instant. "I mean… you surely only asked for my assistance in this because I have literature spells in my possession. I… could lend the book to you, if you'd like that."

"Indeed, my intention was to borrow this particular book from you." He said with the gravest expression he had worn all night, and Robin found her heart hollowing out even more. Of course he wouldn't want her to actually partake in any of this… she'd merely been lucky to be included up to this point. But… it was hard to let go of such a great mystery. Of the illusion to be useful, the illusion to do something important for once. That was until he spoke on. "However I cannot deny the fact that you improved my understanding of this book immensely. And… neither can I deny that you are the most reliable assistance I have. Could you imagine yourself to-..."

"Yes." Robin cut in before he could even finish his sentence. "I… sorry for interrupting, but I would very much like to keep assisting you."

She actually got a not-smirk in return. "In that case, I suggest you to read those three pages now."

With a nod, Robin picked up the book and leaned back in her chair while flipping to the correct page. She wouldn't allow herself to get all too excited about this… she was, but this situation required a certain professionalism, and she would do her best to display that now. It didn't take her long to read the three pages, twice even.

"It's… a potion?!" She finally stated with an incredulous expression. "That's weird…"

"Why do you think it is a potion instead of a spell?" He asked then, but this was a professor-question, not a Snape-question.

"Well, seeing as you said a simple restoration spell wouldn't work, it certainly has something to do with the fact that spells aren't strong enough to counter or reverse the magic used to remove the page in the first place. The magical properties of various ingredients combined in a potion however should be strong enough for that." Robin replied without thinking much about it, and placed the book back on the desk with a shrug.

"Good." He looked fairly pleased with her reply, which pleased Robin in return. "You have studied the list of ingredients required for this task, yes?"

"Yeah, I've studied the entire procedure. Twice."

"There are… a few required ingredients I currently do not have in my possession." He kept it vague, eyes flicking to David for a second before returning to Robin. She understood. "We have to get our hands on those first, before we can start on the potion. You are aware of the time it will take to prepare the procedure?"

"Yes. I am." She stated in determination. "No problem with that." The potion would take two months to make… honestly, if anything, she was sad that it wouldn't take longer. Who knew if Snape would ever allow her to help with something again once this was over?

Before either of them could continue, they heard a quiet snoring coming from the Slytherin boy, who had literally fallen asleep over his essay. Robin snorted, and Snape rolled his eyes in return.

"I truly cannot say Minerva could have picked a worse time to drop him off with me." He muttered, grabbed a random journal off the stack at his end of the desk, and then rose to his feet to walk over to the sleeping David. With an unforgiving glare, he smacked the boy in the head with the journal. "This is detention and not your bedroom, Mister Thompson."

"I-I'm sorry, sir…" David immediately brought out as he startled awake, frightened eyes looking up at his professor.

"Seeing as it is well after midnight, you may leave for now. However I expect you to return right to this spot after breakfast."

"Yes, sir…" David sighed in defeat as he rose to his feet, and jumped once Snape snatched the essay from his hands. "Goodnight, sir…" With that, he shot one quick look at Robin before scurrying out of the classroom.

"I hate that child." Snape muttered as he returned to his desk, and Robin couldn't help laughing at the dry honesty. She really couldn't agree more… but she knew it wasn't her place to comment on it.

"So, where will you get the missing ingredients?" Robin asked instead, while he sat back down. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Seeing as I will be stuck with Mister Thompson for the entire weekend, I would highly appreciate if you could indeed… run a few errands."

"Yes, of course! What do you need me to do?"

"Tomorrow is the fourth Saturday of the term, correct?"

"Yes?"

"That means you will get to go to Hogsmeade for the first time, and I ask of you to go indeed. There is a small shop that sells various ingredients for rare potions to anyone who pays enough, off high street obviously. A black building with a golden inscription over the door. I would like you to go there tomorrow. Follow the second alley going to the right off high street to its end, then turn left and you should come across the shop after a minute's walk." With that he turned to face the desk rather than Robin and got out a snippet of parchment to scribble a quick list on it. Then he handed the paper to Robin. "If I'm not mistaken, you should be able to get all of this in Hogsmeade. Tell the man in the shop that I sent you, and you shouldn't be refused nor expected to pay straight up."

"I will do my best, sir." She answered with what she hoped was a positive expression of professionalism and not an overly excited smile. Going to Hogsmeade hadn't really been on her agenda up until this point, but it also wasn't like she had any other plans for tomorrow. After all, she still was only too glad to get to help with this entire mystery. Surely running errands for him would be better than whatever she would've come up with, for nothing that had to do with the potions professor was ever short of interesting in the first place.

"Certainly I do not have to tell you that this entire endeavour is to be kept between you and me. Furthermore I expect you to take your involvement in this as seriously as I do."

"Of course I take this seriously!" Robin gave him an incredulous look that probably let on a bit too much of her hurt expression along with it. "Have I ever given you a reason to doubt that I'm absolutely serious about my work and studies?"

"No." His reply came fast and with certainty. "I am well aware of your dedication for all matters you concern yourself with. However you ought to know that in my terms there is no casual participation. I take your involvement as seriously as my own, and I expect you to do the same."

"You're my professor, of course I take you seriously!" Robin still didn't quite get what he was aiming at. Maybe she should consider going to bed soon… her brain was getting slow.

"Not me, Mitchell!" He rolled his eyes in that exaggerated annoyance once more. "You have to take yourself seriously! I do not have the time or nerve to listen to a self-deprecating speech every time before you voice a thought of yours. Speak your mind and I… will refrain from scolding you, should your comment be redundant."

"Promise you won't yell at me when I say something stupid?" Robin inquired carefully, even though she finally grasped where he was coming from with that statement. Actually, it was rather nice what he was saying. He took her seriously, and demanded for her to be in this completely or not at all. That's really all Robin could've hoped for.

"I do not make promises." Snape answered with a frown as he leaned back in his chair. "But I tell you now that I will not yell at you unless it is absolutely necessary."

"Good enough for me." Robin smiled ever so slightly, feeling both incredibly excited for this private project but also incredibly worried that she will somehow screw it up and make him regret that he put enough trust in her to allow her to assist in the first place. Well, she would just have to be better. Better than she was now, and better than he expected her to be. Just… what did he expect of her to do, exactly? For now, running errands. She wouldn't let him down right on the very first task (nor on any other, actually).

"You look exhausted." He stated then, perfect indifference with a hint of a sigh. "You should go to bed. There isn't any more to be done until tomorrow anyway."

"Yes, sir." With a small sigh she got up and made her way over to her backpack on her own desk, grabbing it on the go as she continued towards the door. Really, she was indeed exhausted and doing herself a favor rather than following his order by heading to bed now…

"Your book, Miss Mitchell." His voice stopped her a few steps away from the door, and Robin turned around to him once again.

"You should keep it for now… with the other book I mean. Isn't that what you would prefer anyway?"

"It is indeed." The not-smirk was back, and so was the lifted eyebrow. "I should assume this is more than fair after lending books to you for two years."

"It surely is." Robin smiled, tiredly, but sincerely nonetheless. "Goodnight, professor."

"Miss Mitchell?" Again, his voice stopped her just before she could open the door, making her turn to him yet again with a question on her face. He spoke on before she could voice it. "Hogsmeade certainly isn't a dangerous place by any means, but since students are rarely seen venturing off high street, I would still advise you to be careful when going to that shop tomorrow."

While he looked perfectly indifferent in that statement, rising to his feet and gathering up the two books from his desk with an expression of utter boredom, the very attempt to hide anything from his face that could have given off the impression of concern or care actually was what gave him away. Just having noticed that made Robin's smile brighten inevitably.

"I will be careful. No need to worry about your precious ingredients." She couldn't help adding that second sentence with a small smirk, and upon receiving a small glare and a not-smirk in return, Robin finally made her way back to her dorm.

… … …

If Robin had felt like she was anything more than just a third year student last night, Saturday morning definitely had every intention to put her back into her place.

First, she had decided to actually make somewhat of an effort in terms of dressing for being errand-girl today (seeing as she hadn't forgotten what Snape had said about her representing the Slytherin house and his own person), and thus she'd ended up with the same old, large and black turtleneck jumper she fancied, tugged into some blackish drainpipe jeans and kept in place by a black belt with an admittedly very scratched silver buckle. Oh well… concessions had to be made. Her mom always said black was classy and staid… and while Robin didn't agree on the 'staid' part, she still wanted to appear classy today.

Her choice of wardrobe however led to the first instance that tried to put her back into her place, namely her fellow students, who didn't cease to make comments from joking to mocking to insulting during breakfast. Well, in comparison to the other third years, with their colorful shirts, patterned dresses and generally average thirteen-year-old style of clothing, she did stand out a lot. Robin looked quite a lot more like some of the sixth or seventh years, if anything… But she suffered through the comments in silence on the outside, and just a hint of doubt and shame on the inside. Maybe she should make an effort to fit in more… but then she looked at everyone again, seriously, and the thought flew out of her mind to never be considered again. Nope, not gonna happen.

After breakfast, the real issues began. Equipped with her trusty leather backpack that was (as always) stuffed with anything she could possibly need, ranging from parchment and books over snacks to a rain jacket, and of course the list of ingredients she was to acquire, Robin stepped out into the courtyard in sincere appreciation of the dark grey clouds in the sky. Way better than sunshine… that only ever made her eyes hurt.

"And where's your permission slip, Miss Mitchell?" McGonagall asked then, eyebrows risen and clearly expecting something Robin wasn't sure about.

"My… what?" Thus came her very eloquent reply.

"The permission slip signed by your parents for this instance? Allowing you to leave the castle grounds in groups of at least three students to go to Hogsmeade?" McGonagall prompted again, and a new existential dread overcame Robin upon the professor's words. Fuck.

"I… I didn't think to let them sign it. I… thought it was more one of those 'for your notice' kind of things." She replied in a faintest hope to somehow fix this situation. "I mean, I traveled the entire country of England by myself over summer! Well, not the entire country, obviously, but I traveled by myself, alone, WITH their explicit permission. They would probably laugh at me if I asked them for permission to go on a fifteen minute walk away from home now!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Mitchell, but rules are rules."

"But that's ridiculous!" Robin couldn't help the exasperated sigh, nor the inevitable rolling of her eyes, as she threw her head into her neck to angrily glare at the sky.

"I do not make the rules, but I'm still obliged to follow them. As are you." The professor pointed out, then added a bit more kindly, "If you are so certain that they will allow you to venture out on your own, you can always send them a letter before the next Hogsmeade Saturday in two weeks and have them sign their permission."

An idea sprung to Robin's mind immediately, born both of McGonagall's words and her own refusal to accept her fate. "So it does not have to be the specific slip given to us before term, but a handwritten approval would suffice?"

"In my eyes, yes." The professor frowned. "However I…" Her voice trailed off as she watched how Robin took off her backpack and dug her arm into it to the shoulder.

Upon seeing the professor's astonishment, Robin merely said, "Extension charm… helps with carrying the books." Then she took out a piece of parchment and a ballpoint pen she usually didn't use for Hogwarts business, and wrote a quick note. It read: 'Hereby we allow our daughter Robin Mitchell to leave the castle grounds in groups OR by herself at any time not officially prohibited by the school rules.' Then Robin handed the paper to McGonagall.

"If my parents sign this, would it suffice for me to be allowed to leave the school grounds also by myself whenever we are officially allowed to go to Hogsmeade?" She asked the still astonished professor, and put her stationery back into the bag while waiting for an answer.

"Usually students simply break this rule instead of asking for permission. It merely applies to third years anyway, to ensure they get used to the new freedom before abusing it." McGonagall finally replied with a doubtful expression.

"Well, I'd rather change the rules to fit my needs than break them, to be honest." Robin shrugged. "That's usually less stressful for everyone."

Now McGonagall straight out looked incredulous and yet undoubtedly humored. "In that case, if you get your parents to sign this piece of writing, then yes, you may go on your own this year as well."

A smile spread on Robin's lips. Part one of her plan had worked, at least. "Great. Where can I find you in approximately twenty minutes, professor?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you are plotting, Miss Mitchell, but I can assure you no owl will be that quick."

"I'm not planning on using an owl, professor… I'm planning on bribing a house elf." Robin replied with a hint of mischief in her tone that even she could hear herself. "They are very nice, actually, if one is respectful and kind. And as far as I know, there is no rule against asking them for a favor."

"Indeed there isn't… However they are not a replacement for owls in any way."

"I have no intention to make them do anything they don't want to, which is not to say that I could in the first place. But I think I can offer them something in return that may convince them to do me this one favor." After a few seconds of silence, Robin added, "Please, professor… I really need to go to Hogsmeade today. And seeing as the only thing holding me back currently is a missing signature from my dad, I have come up with a perfectly by-the-rules plan to get you just that. Just because it's not commonly done this way doesn't mean it's any less legitimate."

"You certainly are creative in your sheer determination to make it to Hogsmeade today." McGonagall sighed. "I'm heading to the teacher's lounge now, should your efforts lead to the desired result."

"Thank you." Robin gave the professor a bright smile, then made her way towards the kitchens as fast as she could without running. This had to work… she would not stop even one second before those damned ingredients were on Snape's desk.

It took Robin a good ten minutes to convince her favorite house elf, who she had gone to for chocolate cake in the middle of the night more often than she liked to admit, to do her this favor. Not because the female elf (whose name Robin had learned to be Buttercup) would've refused Robin, she'd never do that, but because Robin had to convince her to accept a bar of Twirls in return. Finally, after explaining the advantages and necessity of fair trading to the entirety of the kitchen staff, Robin could get the young elf to accept the trade. Five minutes later, after apparating from the Hogwarts kitchens to Robin's family home in Oxford and back again, Buttercup happily exchanged the now signed permission slip for the chocolate bars Robin was handing her. Really, bless the house elves for being able to apparate in and out of Hogwarts, and bless Robin's brain for remembering that at such a convenient time.

After saying thank you and making sure Buttercup actually liked Twirls, Robin was on her way to the teacher's lounge in an instant. For once a plan of hers was actually working out the way it was supposed to, and honestly the feeling of success sufficed to gather up enough confidence to knock on the door and ask for McGonagall. The professor didn't actually seem all too surprised anymore when Robin handed her the now signed note, and without further ado she allowed Robin to head to Hogsmeade at last. If Robin wasn't mistaken, she even saw McGonagall smile in amusement for a brief moment when she finally turned to leave.

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troop-scoop · 4 years

Text

Mistakes & Regrets XIV

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing,

• • •

The car was mostly quiet while you drove, except for the low 80’s hair bands playing over the radio that you didn’t care to change. Whenever you sat in this car you got a bit sad. But it was a kind of bittersweet sadness. SInce you learned to drive here in Hawkins.

Dad always promised that he’d teach you as soon as you turned sixteen, that he’d take you to get your permit, and be your emotional support when you took the driving test.

Pa always said that he’d help you buy a Volkswagen. A kind of generational thing to him. His dad owned a Beetle as a broke kid in Connecticut, he owned the exact same year and model as you currently did. Except yours was preowned, and you knew with how he was raised, he bought it new.

“We should have a tape.”

It caught you off guard a little, being off on your own train of thought to remember the eighth grader who was in the seat next to you.

Turning your head to briefly look at Will, you looked back at the road. “What?”

“Well I mean, you, Jonathan and me have all been hanging out together a lot when you’re not hanging out with Steve, we should have a cassette we play whenever we’re hanging out together.”

Sometimes it was hard to remember that Will was your dad. They were technically the same person, and yet, they were different. Your dad and you were as close as could be, a lot of people seemed to be closer to their moms growing up. But considering you didn’t have one you attached yourself to your dad. But Will was just a kid, who went through something terrible that was traumatizing, and it was hard to connect the two together. But you did realize that your little brother looked a lot like your dad when he was younger. The only difference being their eyes. With Will having hazel eyes and Danny having dark brown eyes. So, you often found yourself treating Will like you would Daniel.

Will’s suggestion reminded you of the fact that you and Pa had made a playlist on Spotify for the trip to Hawkins. It had been a good idea, and you got suggestions from both your dad and Daniel, but now, it just made you remorseful.

“Nevermind, it’s a bad idea-”

“What? No! It’s a good idea!” You rushed, looking back and forth from the road and back at Will. seeing the arcade sign in the distance. “Just make sure you put some Queen on there.” You added with an awkward smile, seeing Will’s face light up a bit.

Pulling into the parking lot you found a spot by the door, seeing Mike, Dustin and Lucas all walking up to the bike rack right outside, and waving as a greeting to the two of you.

“Okay, what are the rules?” You asked turning to Will as he reached down to the floorboard and pulled out your bag, handing it to you.

“If we get separated, don’t walk or bike home, just ask to use the phone and call mom, and if anything happens to find you.”

You nodded, taking the bag from him, taking the keys out of the ignition. “Sweet, let’s go.” Opening the door of the driver’s side you got out of the car.

Having grown up when places like arcades and movie rental places started going out of business, you never got to go to them. The first time you’d gone to the arcade with the boys, you stuck to Pac-Man, always being able to go on your chromebook at school and play it on the google browser.

You had the high score on Pac-Man since March of that year, and when they got Tetris in late June, after it came out, you quickly took the high score of that game as well. Having had it on your phone since sixth grade, you knew how to play. Not even Dustin or Lucas could beat your scores.

Giving the three other boys a smile you went inside, seeing Keith behind the counter, you walked over. “Hey, can you sneak me a drink?”

Arcades didn’t technically sell food or drinks, they weren’t going to because of the games, and children being irresponsible. But Keith would sometimes hide a few sodas in a minifridge to sell them to the older kids and teens.

“Two dollars.” He told you, leaning down to grab one from the minifridge while you pulled out a two dollar bill, briefly seeing the portrait of Thomas Jefferson while you exchanged it for the beverage. “Tell Robin that our section leader wants her to change seats-”

“Sorry, I don’t speak ‘band geek,’ bye.” You told him, opening the can of sprite while you made your way over to the Pac-Man machine, placing the can on the slanted control board, letting it lean on your abdomen to prevent it from falling on the ground.

You played your game for what felt like a good thirty minutes, the map changing every time you beat it until you eventually died one too many times.

Taking a sip from the aluminum can you sighed a bit hearing Will and his friend clamoring on the other side of the isle, at ‘Dragon’s Lair.’ before their voices fell silent, meaning that whoever had gone up to play it, died. But that was only for a second before you heard the faint cursing of Dustin.

Smiling to yourself you pulled out a quarter from your back pocket, inserting it into the machine.

Placing the drink down, you heard the unexpected sound of sliding, which made you panic, because you knew that the drink was about to fall.

You acted quick, but the boy to your right acted quicker. He caught the can and looked up at you, he looked almost terrified that you seemed to notice his presence.

He looked oddly familiar, he was a boy, with medium brown hair that was at an odd length, and he seemed disheveled.

“Heh,” he laughed nervously, holding the can out to you. “Here you go.” He said. Taking the drink from him you saw how quickly he practically ran off. He couldn’t have been much younger than you. Maybe a year or two, if that.

“Okay. . . that was weird.” You told yourself before the string of “No, no, no, no,” Came from behind you. Turning around you saw Dustin turning to Dig-Dug

“Who’s Madmax?” Dustin demanded of Keith, while you walked the meter or so over to the group. You wanted to say something related to Madmax: Fury Road, but you knew better at this point.

Over a year spent in a time period where no one understood the references you made, you learned to usually not make the jokes or sarcastic references.

“Better than you.” Keith responded, with a shrug. Both you and Dustin held up your middle finger to the highschool senior.

Usually you were the mediator between him and the kids, and often times you wondered if that’s how it felt to be either one of your fathers who tried to stop you and your brother fighting with each other, or how Uncle Jonathan felt trying to get you and your youngest cousin, who was your age, to stop fighting whenever you all got together.

“Is it you?” Will asked, holding up a hand and pointing at Keith.

He scoffed and shook his head. “You know I despise Dig Dug.”

“Then who is it?”

You watched them converse with the older male while you held your soda, taking a small sip.

“Yeah, spill it, Keith!” Dustin told him.

“You want information, then I need something in return.” Keith looked from Dustin to Mike, and you knew what he trying to get.

“Gross, Keith.” You told him, grimacing.

“No, no, no! No way! You’re not getting a date with her!”

“Mike, come on. Just get him the date.” Lucas reasoned while you glared at him.

“Guys, she has a boyfriend.” You reminded them.

Mike nodded and pointed back at you. “That, and I’m not prostituting my sister!” Dustin and Lucas began to bicker with Mike while you and Keith began your own bickering.

Sure, you were a lot like Will in many ways, but you were also a lot like your Pa in many others. Always being the one to try and prove someone else wrong, or just bickering for the fun of it.

“You’re friends with Robin, Jonathan, Nancy and Harrington, yet you hang out with toddlers?” He tried to insult, while he took a cheeto from his bag.

“Different hairstyles exist, Keith, you don’t have to try and copy Steve’s from last year.” You told him with a fake smile.

“Toddlers,” He said again, gesturing to the boys who were still bickering.

You smiled a bit and pointed to your own two front teeth. “Cheeto dust.” You told him, before pointing at him.

Keith turned his attention back to Mike, Lucas and Dustin while you turned yours to Will upon feeling his shoulder brush against your arm while he moved past you.

“Will, you okay?” It was a simple question, that would probably have a simple answer, with a complicated background to it. A complicated lie he wouldn’t ever say was one. But you blinked and suddenly everyone but Will was gone.

“Do you see the-” He turned back around and his eyes landed on you, confused and worried. You looked at the front windows and saw the white particles that at first looked like snow, until a second longer and they reminded you of the Upside Down.

The lights went out and you looked to the Pac-Man machine to your left, seeing the screen was on, but something big was covering most of it. The lights flickered on the machines, and the sound of electricity struggling to stay on had you stuck in one position. Which was your legs tensed and your hand clutching onto your soda while you stared at the screen, finally placing what it all was.

There was a loud bang, which made you drop your drink and grab onto Will’s arm, pulling him back only to realize it was just the door that had swung open.

“You see it too?”

You nodded before taking small steps towards the door, keeping Will behind you while you walked outside. The sign still turned, but in the distance you could see clouds, which you didn’t remember from being in the Upside Down. It had always been too dark to see any sort of sky.

The lightning was red and while you stared at the sky, you felt an uneasy feeling come that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The same chills that were sent down your spine the year before having you practically paralyzed in fear.

You couldn’t quite put it into words, but it felt like all of those stories where you look into a certain spot in the woods that’s so dark you don’t know what’s there, but know there’s something, that you’re not just crazy, and it felt malevolent. Like it wanted to hurt people, but specifically, you.

You felt someone grab your sleeve, and looking down, everything was normal again, with Mike and WIll right by your side. Will still looked scared, but Mike seemed confused and worried. “Y/n, you okay?”

You nodded a bit “Yeah, I’m fine.” You told him, taking one last look at the sky.

• • •

The woman hummed a gentle tune while writing something down in her notebook, a college textbook in front of her.

“Y/n, don’t stalk me, just have a conversation.” She told you, turning her head to look up at you, her eyes the same as your own while she gestured to the seat across from her.

You glanced over to the seat before sighing and walking over, taking a seat on the uncomfortable wooden chair.

“You came here for a reason, what’s going on?” You shrugged a bit, crossing your arms on the table and leaning down to rest your chin on your forearm. “Sweetheart,” She reached out, a gentle hand on your exposed bicep, your pajamas consisting of a muscle shirt and ballet shorts. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me?”

You knew what you wanted to ask her, but you were nervous. “Did you know? That’d I end up like this? That’d I be like you?”

Her face softened a bit and she shook her head, eyes downcast while she placed her pen down, giving you all of her attention.

“No,” She answered. “I didn’t. I only knew when you were born. I felt it. And I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this.”

Looking at the textbook in front of you both, you examined the picture that was upside down for you, seeing the diagram of the human skeleton.

Getting up from her seat she came over next to you. “You carry a burden, and so many people will try to use you as a weapon, because you have abilities that could destroy entire nations. People want to manipulate you.”

“You’ve told me.” You reminded her. “I saw the Upside Down.”

Her face fell as she kneeled down next to you. “You got back in?”

“No. One moment I was safe, in the arcade, and the next, I was there. And there was a storm in the distance. The lightning was red, and I was frozen, in fear. It wanted to hurt me, I could feel it, it wanted me dead. Anne, I don’t what to do-”

“Miss L/n!”

Your eyes snapped open, and you quickly wiped your nose of any blood looking up to see the entire class staring at you, while the principal stood by the door, and Mr. Haul pointed to the book “Before Mr. Olson takes you, can you tell me what the main message of Animal Farm is?”

You gave a nervous chuckle. “Communism, bad?” It got a few laughs out of the class, while Mr. Haul scowled at you before jerking his head to the side to let you follow the principal out.

In a rush you shoved your things into your bag and got up, going over to Mr. Olson. This happened once or twice every few months.

The older man led you out of the class and down the hall, while you struggled to get your walkman out of your bag. Looking up you saw Steve coming out of the restroom, sunglasses on. “Jesus,” You shook your head a bit as you and the principal came closer to crossing paths with Steve.

“Only blind people and assholes wear sunglasses inside, Steven.” You mumbled when you passed him.

“Funny,” He mumbled back, hiding a grin from you while he walked back to his class, and you smiled as well when Mr. Olsen opened the front doors, where you saw Hopper waiting by his car.

“Have a good afternoon, Miss L/n.” He told you as you left the building, with you returning the sentiments.

When you were in the car, it was mostly quiet between the two of you. The music that came from the foam headphones drowning out the killing silence. You needed it. In the past year, silence always felt like it was trying to kill you. Lately everything felt like a death trap, and you felt like you were going crazy.

“You gained a pound.” Owens informed when he walked in the room, where you sat, Hopper was to the left of the medical seat, while the stool Owens usually sat at was to your left. “That’s good news.” He added, placing the clipboard on the table.

You hummed a bit. You were slowly but surely getting back to the weight you should be at, from a month of being starved and dehydrated from the Upside Down. It fluctuated for a long time, being so one moment you were on the right track and the next, you were under the original weight you had been at when ending up in Hawkins.

“How has your medication been working out?”

“It’s been fine.” You stopped taking them six months ago, and currently had a small box of plastic pill bottles that you used for noise when you forgot batteries for your walkman.

“That’s good.” Owens commented. “Are you doing anything for Halloween? I know Will is going trick or treating.”

“Probably just gonna be home watching Halloween and handing out candy.” You shrugged a bit, feeling uncomfortable under the eyes of the nurse, Hopper and Owens.

“No parties?”

“And get ‘sheet faced?’” You quoted the party invitation Nancy had showed you when she tried to convince you and Jonathan to go. “No thanks.”

Owens chuckled a bit, and Hopper put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Looking up at the Chief, he gave a tight lipped smile, showing he was just as uncomfortable as you were.

“Okay, let’s talk about this episode you and Will said you had.”

You nodded a bit, knowing that all Owens would do was come up with a stupid excuse as to why you and Will had the same experience that you both nervously talked about on the car ride back to his home.

“I. . . I took Will to the arcade so he could spend time with his friends, and so I could a game or two. His friends and I got into an argument with someone who worked there, and then I felt Will move past me. . . One second we were in the arcade, and then everyone was gone, then we were. . . back in the Upside Down.” You told him.

“Okay, what happened next?”

“The door. . . it was flung open, and we walked outside. I kept Will behind me, and when there was a storm brewing. And it was straight out of a comic book, the clouds were dark, and then there was red lightning, I felt. . . I felt. . .”

“What did you feel?”

“Like I was in danger. Like there was something staring back at me. Something evil, that has no. . . human emotions. It’s like when you’re a kid, you just watched a scary movie like Paranormal Activity or something, and you feel like there’s something in your room when you’re trying to sleep. You feel like something’s there with you. It wanted me dead.”

“The evil?”

You nodded and looked up at him, feeling the parts taped your head shift a little under the tape. “Yeah. It wasn’t like it wanted everyone dead though. It wanted me dead.”

• • •

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#steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington slow burn #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

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slightly-nerdy-rambles · 4 years

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Robstar Week Day 5: Righteous Fury (Prompt: Rescue)

This prompt gave me an excuse to do an action scene, and I love writing action, so it was definitely one of the most fun prompts for the week. The direction I chose to take it also gave me a chance to play around a bit with the interplay between Starfire’s emotions and her powers, and those of you who have read my fic Joy and Fury may recognize some of what’s going on in that regard.

Righteous Fury

The world was tinted viridian as Starfire scanned it from high above.

It was not really a world, per say. More of what Raven had called a ‘pocket dimension’ – the extradimensional space owned by that creature who had the gall to call himself the Master of Games.

The thief who had been travelling the galaxy and using a powerful artifact to steal away those who lost his games, so he could use their skills and weapons as his own. And like any thief, she was going to take him down and make him return what he stole.

“Starfire.” The sound of her name snapped her out of her idle thoughts, and she released some of her focus on joyful thought keeping her aloft. She’d been using him as the source, again – perhaps not the best choice of subject considering the circumstances, except that it made her all the more determined to find him.

Robin was her k’nonaki, after all – her great bond, the source from which she most easily drew her power-linked emotions. And if the “Master” thought he could take him away from her, she would only be too eager to prove him wrong.

“There are four main paths branching out of the coliseum,” she reported as she touched down by the others. “Besides the one that we know connects the competitor’s quarters, the others lead to a series of several large buildings.”

Cyborg nodded, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Must be the tournament arenas. At least that means he doesn’t have more of these mini-dimensions to go hiding in.” He turned toward Raven, who was sitting in her meditative position.

“Got anything?”

Raven took a few seconds to respond, standing up when she did. “He’s here. Robin’s aura is faint through the gem, but I can still sense him. But I can’t get a bead on the Master of Games without sending out my soul and alerting him that we’re here – he must be out in one of the other buildings. They’re in that direction,” she finished, pointing down one of the hallways.

Beast Boy rubbed one arm. “Guess we’re lucky he got Robin and not someone you don’t have a freaky mind bond thing with, right?”

Starfire shot a warning glare at him, eyes narrowed. “I do not see how this situation can be considered ‘lucky,’” she hissed.

Beast Boy shrank back from her, but Raven laid a hand on her arm.

“We’ll get him back, Starfire. Along with everyone else the Master captured,” she said calmly. “Getting riled up over it isn’t going to help.”

Starfire gave her a sideways look. “You forget, Raven. My emotions only strengthen me.”

With that, she turned and began to stalk toward the far path that Raven had pointed out. Herald, who had been called on to bring the team here when the Master had first vanished with their leader, leaned over toward Beast Boy.

“Do her eyes always glow like that on missions?” he asked in a low voice.

“Only when she’s about to eyebeam someone in the face or like, really pissed,” Beast Boy stage-whispered back. “I dunno if I’ve ever seen it last this long, it’s kinda freaking me out.”

Starfire ignored them and continued forward, but she swore she could feel their eyes on her back. The conversation died down after that, and everyone walked quietly for several minutes.

“…I should have warned everyone about that gem,” Cyborg finally said, his voice hollow. “When I got captured back in the Tournament of Heroes, I was trying to blast that thing. I knew it could be activated by prolonged contact, but it didn’t even cross my mind that nobody else saw it.”

Without a word, Starfire lifted off and poured on speed until the others disappeared behind her. She told herself it was so she could scout ahead, but… she knew Cyborg was just trying to be sensitive when he said “everyone.”

After all, Robin wasn’t the one who had tried a hard blast against that accursed gem. He’d merely jumped in the way to save her.

She would not let him suffer for her mistake. She could not.

The doors to the first arena were coming up fast. They were closed tight, locked probably, but Starfire barely even slowed down and simply smashed her way through.

There was very little to the floor and walls of the arena, which was instead dominated by a dozen massive cages hanging high above her. She drifted further in, scanning the area for any sign of her foe or the next exit that would bring her closer to him.

There. Up in the far wall, level with the rough midpoint of the hanging cages, a rounded balcony led out to another doorway. Probably so the Master could watch his “contestants” directly if he so chose.

As Starfire darted up to the balcony, the low blare of a horn heralded the opening of a portal on its level surface. The Herald and her remaining teammates stepped out, forcing her to halt before the doorway.

Cyborg held up a hand. “Star, you’re going too fast,” he said, gentle but firm. “If we spook this guy or give him too much warning, he’ll just teleport away and we’ll have to hunt him down all over again.

Starfire’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she dropped her gaze to the side. “There is nothing stopping him from leaving to find more victims if we wait,” she retorted, “and he cannot resist a challenge, can he? I intend to give him one he will not soon forget.”

“I think it’s safe to say we all do,” Cyborg replied, a little smile quirking the corner of his lip. “And we will. Together, because that’s how we beat someone like him.”

Starfire let out a low breath and nodded, though the blazing emerald never quite left her vision. He was right, of course – she could stay angry all she wanted, but letting her righteous fury blind her would only cause more problems. She had to remember that.

Cyborg nodded wordlessly to Raven, who raised her arms and enveloped them all in a darkness that pulled them through the next barrier without a sound.

By the time they were about halfway down the next corridor, Raven suddenly halted.

“They’re near,” she reported in a low voice. “The Master should be hiding in the next arena.”

The Titans all shared a look and a brief nod, but before they continued, Starfire thought of something. She flew over to her team’s current companion.

“The Herald? I believe it would be wise of you not to engage in this battle directly,” she said with a thoughtful frown. “If the Master of Games manages to take your horn, he will have an even easier time escaping us, and we may no longer be able to follow.”

Herald considered this for a moment. “Yeah, I can hang back for this one. Send me any victims you rescue from that necklace, and I’ll send ‘em home before your friend can capture them again.”

That matter resolved, the Titans soon found themselves at the next entrance. Through the thick doors, they could hear the clanging of metal-on-metal and occasional blasts from some energy attack the Master had stolen. Starfire caught Cyborg’s eye and raised her fists, and he nodded – for all that they couldn’t give their presence away too early, their opponent would be more likely to stick around if a bombastic entry promised an exciting “game.”

With a determined little smirk on her lips and the thought of her beloved’s rescue guiding her strength, Starfire smashed through the doorway like so much tissue paper and barreled into the arena. With a start, she realized that she recognized this one: it was the fighting ground she had been sent to during the brief run of the Tournament of Heroines. Thick steel beams criss-crossed an otherwise open space, spread far enough apart that flighted opponents could weave among them without too much trouble, but passing each other close enough that ground-bound competitors had places to jump from one to the next.

In the middle of it all, the Master of Games was flying on massive feathery wings and aiming another blast of red-hot energy at one of the beams. He paused mid-attack as she entered, turning toward her, and her hands lit up with starbolts almost of their own accord.

“We are not finished with you,” she spat.

“Yeah, Gameboy,” Cyborg chimed in behind her. “Last I recall, we were just getting started.”

The Master’s face twisted into a wicked smirk. “Another round? I don’t mind earning a few more trophies, even if I’ve already won the grand prize.” He punctuated that statement with a flick of his wrist, and Robin’s bo staff seemed to grow out of the palm and into his grip.

“Very well then! The Teen Titans versus The– Urgh!”

A powerful eyebeam – aimed at the stomach, she could not risk hitting his gem with that kind of attack – threw the villain back hard against the steel beam directly behind him. He peeled off after a moment and began to fall, his stolen wings twitching in a daze, but Starfire would not give him the chance to recover. Swooping in, she grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and forced him back against the beam.

But the Master had already recovered enough to bring the staff to bear. He bashed the butt of it into her torso, forcing her back with a grunt.

A rush of wings passed by her in that moment, and before the Master could follow up his attack, a large green woodpecker swooped in and gripped ahold of his necklace’s chain. With a force and precision designed to drill into trees, Beast Boy’s beak struck the gem.

A blazing light forced back shapeshifter and Tamaranean alike, and three figures came tumbling out. One was a Thanagarian – the source of the wings no doubt, considering they were suddenly gone from the Master’s back – but she did not recognize the other two, nor had she time to see if she could place their species.

“Get to the exit!” Starfire barked in Thanagarian, pointing the way in case the others didn’t recognize the language. “We will deal with him, but our friend can get you home.”

As they ran, the Master of Games recovered his senses with a growl. He was in the air again, doubtless with the aid of another victim’s power, but a hit from Cyborg’s cannon forced him back before he could attack. Beast Boy followed this up by swooping back in and grabbing the necklace again, but the Master swatted him away before he could peck at the gem.

As woodpecker shifted into panther and caught ahold of one of the beams, Starfire flew in again and began to harry her opponent with starbolts. He retaliated by spitting globs of slime at her, making her aim difficult, but it mattered little – her goal now was to keep his attention on her, for she could already see the dull glow of Raven’s magic enveloping the necklace to yank it off.

But even then the gem sparked to life, and Starfire swore she could see it pulling at her friend’s energy. Fear added to her blazing fury and warrior’s confidence and focused determined joy then. She could not let this happen again. She would not.

This ended now.

With a guttural yell, Starfire tackled the loathsome being who threatened her loved ones. The force of it drove them both down past the steel beams and onto the arena’s floor, knocking the wind out of her opponent. His gem, its hold on Raven’s power broken, swung wildly with the impact and clattered against the ground.

And with both hands lit and clasped together, she slammed her fists into it – a force that would have shattered a lesser artifact into a million shards.

Light filled the building again, and when it cleared, nearly a dozen newcomers were sprawled across the floor. One in particular grabbed Starfire’s attention, and the light in her eyes dimmed in an instant.

“Robin!” she cried, rushing over and dropping to her knees beside him.

Robin smiled and clasped the hand she offered him, pulling himself upright. “I’m okay,” he reassured her. “I could see what was going on, you know. You were… very impressive.”

Starfire let out a tired sigh and pressed her forehead against his, eyes closed. “I had an unusually personal stake in the matter.”

She could hear her other teammates’ hurried footsteps coming in behind her, but before they could catch up, another sound grabbed her attention. She turned to see the one who called himself the Master of Games standing up with a groan and looking at her and Robin with pure hatred in his eyes.

Beast Boy winced and spoke up while Raven silently directed the other rescued victims toward Herald. “Please tell me he doesn’t have even more people stuffed in that thing.”

Robin shot Starfire a confident smirk, which she responded to with a single sharp nod.

“If he does, we’ll just have to take care of that too,” he said aloud. “All of us, together.”

#Teen Titans #Robin #Starfire #robstar #robstarweek #Beast Boy #Raven #Cyborg #Herald #writing #prompt #fanfiction #Master of Games #I really wish we had another thing to call him #Why yes I am in fact planning on a Tournament of Heroines fic sometime further down the line

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likesomekindofcheese · 4 years

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Songbird of Jamestown Chapter Seven (Samuel Castell x fem! Reader)

Chapter One// Chapter Two // Chapter Three// Chapter Four// Chapter Five/ Chapter Six

Word Count: 5K

Summary: You arrived to the colony of Jamestown hoping for a better life than your previous one. Your own talents and friendships gain you allies...and enemies. But falling in love with the recorder has landed you in danger from his scheming intended. You love him but...what will you risk?

A/N: It took forever but here it is! Enjoy!

Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated!!

Warnings: None, other than a touch of angst and mentions of smoking and drinking, but plenty of fluff! Enjoy!

A long night of thinking always calls for a pipe.

Pulling out his long pipe, Samuel took out a spare piece of paper and began to write down everything as he sat down at his desk. It was dark and cicadas chirruped beyond his walls. Sometimes he heard a faint noise from Mercy as she slept. Blissfully unaware. Once her eyes would open, the poor girl would have to adapt quickly. But he had to adapt now.

He pulled a bit of flint and lit the fire for his pipe. He smoked as he thought deeply. Staring at the words on the paper before him.

A bit of smoke went past his nose as he considered what he read.

How could Y/N be kept safe at all…

Could she be sent to live in the other town without having to marry anyone?

But that was the point of staying- she chose to stay here. To not give up the life she had in the main town. And that was what Jocelyn tried to do in the first place.

Find someone here to marry her.

Perhaps marrying another man would be better. Helpful. Wiser. But his stomach turned sour and the back of his eyes burned at the thought. Maybe it was selfish. But that idea of some man- like the blacksmith, or Christopher or anyone sweeping her off her feet and carrying her away was unreal. He kept blinking to remind himself that the image of such a marriage was not real. What was real was that moment they had in the woods. He felt himself blush at the memory. Her lips and how they matched his. The way she smiled. How soft she felt when she embraced him and how he could feel her heart pick up during the second kiss.

So no, sending her to another man was not an option that he could live with.

He dipped his quill into ink again and wrote down a few more ideas.

Could Jocelyn be reported?

There was no evidence to report other than Y/N’s word. Mercy would never blame Jocelyn for anything and would never believe that her beloved mistress poisoned her. Doctor Priestly knew his poison was missing, and the symptoms. But there was no proof Jocelyn took it. And she would get rid of the poison or put it back.

What if there was a trial? At best, she would be imprisoned for her actions. But Jocelyn was mercurial, she could charm people. She was on good terms with the Governor. She nearly seduced him minutes ago.

But at worst, he would be punished for spreading falsehoods. Jocelyn would be unscathed. And she could get away to do to Y/N whatever she wanted to do

Hire a soldier to protect Y/N?

It might look silly, but it was worth it. Though people might ask questions. The solider himself didn’t have to talk if paid properly. No matter how expensive it might be, he had to have Y/N safe. Anything. Anything that would make her safe. Please God, keep her safe.

But…how long would the soldier last?

The money would run out eventually. Then the soldier would run away, and his darling would be vulnerable.

Vulnerable unless someone was there. Someone who could always be there. The solider was the best choice but…there was one more option to consider.

Hardly leaving your house, you were scared to go anywhere or do anything alone. You made your choice and your fate would be sealed.

You didn’t know what method Jocelyn was planning. You only knew you had to defy it somehow. And even though you had to settle for life as a hermit in the colony, you were alive.

What choice had you? Who knew what Jocelyn would do and how she would act next Except for church, you could hardly go anywhere. You knew the second you were alone, it meant danger. Somehow. Even the walk to church and back, your eyes were peeled around everywhere, and you walked quickly. When you entered the house, you slammed the door shut. Pressing your back against it, you started panting. Then you slid down to your floor.

Stomach rumbling with hunger, you only took a few bites of your safe bread and drank a bit of goat’s milk. It didn’t stop the rumbling. But you didn’t want to risk anything. No food you ate felt entirely safe. After the milk hit your stomach you waited. Nothing happened, and you exhaled deeply.

Perhaps… there was one way. A way to have protection after all. But there was something you would need. Even if you did die, you knew it would not be in vain. You would beat her at her own game.

You had to do something. Fast. You had to make friends here. Allies. And powerful ones.

That afternoon as soon as the second church service was done, you looked for the tall brown head of Lady Yeardley. She always carried her Bible with her clutching as tight as if it were a shield. But her grip loosened as she noticed your polite curtsy and called her name.

“Oh, Y/N, what is it?”

Her husband chatted away with the minister. Oblivious.

“I…I would like to wonder since you are the most devoted woman out here in all our colony…what are ways I can be closer to God?” you asked, eyeing the book.

“Well, prayer, devotion, and reading of scripture daily…Y/N, your devotion to your faith is admirable. Even if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, my child, you can move mountains,” she answered kindly. Her eyes warmed to you.

“I just…I have…. I have so many fears and worries, I would like to find some comfort and peace with God. Since no one else here is a better Christian lady then you, I just…wondered how you have such peace?” you flattered, tucking away a loose strand of hair.

“Cast all your cares unto Him, and all will be well. Well, I make sure to just practice. Each morning, I rise at five to read and study my bible… you may join me if you’d like.”

Glancing away, you saw no blonde head walking around near you.

“Really?” you replied.

“Yes! We can read and pray together, discuss what the scripture is saying. Also…do you remember the old hymns from England?”

“Most of them, my lady,” you answered obediently.

“You could sing a few! I’ve just missed them terribly during church,” she said.

“Me as well! I…” you say, putting on your brightest smile you could muster, “yes…I will see you the next morning! I look forward to it.”

Yes, you would find comfort in praying. Exchanging a bit of sleep and your song for Lady Yeardley’s friendship would be worth it. And if the wife was affectionate of you, then the husband would be. You would have allies. You would be safe. And that was worth having to get up with the roosters.

Hurrying home, you caught your breath as soon as the door shut. There was another plan in store.

You ran up to your books and looked through the pages, finding two that were bare enough. You hated to ruin such lovely things, but you had no choice. It was your books or your life. Looking up the right words, you drew them in the air and then practiced writing them all over in the small corners.

The writing was memorized in your hands and mind now.

Looking among your things you found a small wooden chest. Only fit your lace gloves were in there, your one luxury. The paper would fit perfectly.

So far, you would write only two. The bare minimum.

You wrote carefully, making sure each word would be understandable. There was fire beneath your borrowed quill.

Yes…I borrowed it from Mercy…she must have gotten it from…

Shaking the thought away, you pulled yourself back to focus. The words seemed perfectly readable.

Looking around and seeing no face was peeking through your window, you began to blow it dry. Then after a bit of settling, you folded it up and placed it in the wooden box.

Then the next morning you headed over to the Sharrow’s farm. Although you yawned from the early hours and your voice was a little hoarse from a bit of early hymn singing (Even though Lady Yeardley did adore it and coo over you like a proud aunt), it was lovely to see the orange sky peep over the horizon as it settled on the tobacco field. You knew farmers kept early hours. She would be there.

Alice was blooming as much as the tobacco plants in the field before the farm. She touched them with tenderness, feeling them grow because of her. Her hair was tied back and she wore an apron that seemed a little dirty, but she looked as grand as any princess. She was smiling as she watered them. It seemed the ghost of her torture had gone away. Just for a moment.

“Pardon me…” you greeted, moving closer to her.

She ran up to embrace you, cheeks flushing.

“Y/N! I’ve been so busy! Oh, how are you?” she asked.

Nodding, you peeked over your shoulder and saw no sign of anyone listening. Then continued.

“I’m well! At least for now…but I came here because I have something for you…” you announced

You brought forth the small wooden box.

“Why, what’s in it?” she asked, she pulled the lid open until your hands shot forth and shut it closed.

“No! Alice! You can’t see what’s inside! I’m giving this to you because…”

Walking closer, you lowered your voice.

“I think I’m going to die. I’m in danger.”

“Danger? But why- who?” she asked, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I cannot tell you.”

“Why?”

“It’s not safe to tell you, not if you still want protection from…. but…if something should happen to me…if I die, and not of illness, open this box. Hide it so no one but you know where it is. If I die, open it. Tell people it was from me. But you are not to look at it unless something should happen, do you understand!” you order, looking right into her eyes.

There was a pause. The robins and sparrows chattered around you. There were footsteps from the house.

She nodded. “Yes, I promise, Y/N.”

“Good…I can breathe a little easier,” you said.

Once you returned home, you began to write in the second free piece of paper. Trying to keep the letters small, the more papers, the better.

You thought there was the sound of hoofbeats outside. But you shrugged it off. That is until there was a sudden knock on the door that surprised you so much that the ink jolted in your hand as you signed it.

Your dress or apron was too obvious a hiding place. Scurrying, you took off your left stocking and placed it inside. If it was your moment of death, then it was a place where she could never suspect anything.

“I’m coming,” you called out as you slid your feet over the paper and put on your stocking and shoe again.

But running up to answer it, you saw it was not Jocelyn.

“S-Sa-M-Master Castelll! Hello! What brings you here!” you greeted. It was better to not call him by his first name in a place where someone could hear you. Keeping an illusion of polite distance.

He was dressed in a side cape that flowed over his left shoulder and was brightly patterned. You felt embarrassingly poor. He stepped a little closer as did you. But you stopped. As much as you craved it, in public was no place to embrace. No matter how handsome he looked that day. Eyes downward, you found your face growing hot. It seemed he was like the sun and if you stared at him directly you would go blind from daring.

But your eyes flickered to behind him where a tall brown horse stood right behind him.

“Did you…did you ride here?” you asked in disbelief.

He looked behind to see the horse and turned back to you nodding.

“Yes, Y/N! I know I could walk, but…can you ride as well! There’s someplace I’d like to show you- and it’s much better to ride than walk there. It’s a bit of a long way away! But can you ride a horse? If so, I’ll bring you one!” he offered.

“Uh, no!” you reply quickly, shaking your head.

“Hm, doesn’t matter! I’ll keep you on, tight!”

“Wait, what?”

“Please, come with me! My horse is gentle! You have to see this place!” he begged, eyes bright and pleading.

It was better than another hour alone and doing nothing out of fear.

“I…uhm, alright,” you agreed.

Walking forward, you felt his hands go to your waist and hoist you up so your feet could be secured. It made you nervous to feel how he was making sure you were safely on by pushing you up and tightening on.

You were securely on the horse, astride as you have noticed ladies ride them, with both of your legs on one side. Though feeling the creature breathe beneath you was a touch unsettling. A wrong move and it would knock you over.

He climbed up on the horse as easily as walking, making sure the cape was on one side. Clicking his tongue, he put the reigns in his hands and the horse trotted off. He was so close you could almost make out his pulse and his pleasant smell. But as you passed a few townsfolk, you had to hide your face in slight embarrassment, biting back your tongue to scold him from riding with you in public.

There were a few funny looks- who even knew. The Recorder riding off with some woman that not his fiancée.

Once the town was out of sight, the horse did a slow gallop over on a path where trees passed by, shading you from the hot Virginia sun.

“What do you think of riding, Y/N?”

“It’s…it’s thrilling! Is it always safe?”

“When you’re careful. And my horse has a gentle soul, I told you.”

As you passed a small clearing, you petted his mane gently. You heard him brush a little in appreciation.

“Would you like to hold the reigns? For a bit?”

“Yes!”

You hold onto the leather, feeling him hand them over to you. It felt incredible to have that control. To suddenly travel fast to wherever you wanted to go.

“There it is-right straight ahead…you can lead us there.”

You kept the reigns steady, moving it a little for the horse to keep forward.

The horse reached another clearing. For a while, he picked up the pace and you gripped the reigns to hold on. There was a beautiful wide sky above you and a field with a path and grass growing high enough that bees did not strain to float above it. There were a few trees that went by you as you both rode, ducking your heads under branches that were stretching down. You noticed a few plants that had little blooms passed you, a few of their puffs and petals blowing in the wind. It was a universe of emerald all around you. As the grass shortened, you saw one tobacco field that was still full of dirt and sweaty men in brown hats plowing it.

Then you came upon another large tobacco field. Only the plants in bloom in this one. The sun was peeking and disappearing beneath large, white clouds. There were no workers. They almost looked like large leaves of spinach from the ground. Already you could smell them.

“Y/N…these are some of our tobacco fields. Have you ever seen them before?” he asked.

“I have not!” you respond, looking around.

Your head tilted, but you didn’t dare crane your neck too far. Anything that would make you fall. But his hands replaced yours on the reigns. Feeling his arms were around you made your breath feel short.

“What do you think?”

“It’s…it’s huge!”

Why would he want to show you a tobacco field, though? The size, you admit it, was impressive. Maybe if you planted your own, you could get some form of money. Protection. Freedom.

“That’s not even all of it. Some people plant their own, like the Sharrows. But here-here is the heart of our tobacco, where most of us keep ours,” he explained.

“Whose tobacco does all this belong to? Do they…divide it?” you asked curiously.

He smiled and then lifted his arm to point to a certain direction.”

“The Governor’s tobacco is over there north. Most people have at least a little tobacco. Farlow’s is to the east…”

“Do you have any?” you asked.

He prompted his horse to walk forward slightly. You saw a little brown sign around there and could read his last name carved onto the wooden sign.

“This is mine,” he announced.

Turning around to him he smiled gently.

“I began planting it the day I arrived. I was the youngest son of a family with nothing to offer youngest sons, Y/N. I came here to have a new start. A new life. And I chose to invest in some tobacco. That’s what the company is making money off of, that’s a way I could have financial security. Far more than I would in England without being dependent my family’s help.”

He got off the horse, helping you as you climbed out.

You felt yourself smiling.

“That’s very good, Samuel. I’m proud of you. You’ve saved things. And it seems you’ve worked hard. You’ve done so much for this community, for everyone. I can see it.” you praise, looking at it.

“Do you know how much tobacco I have?” he asked.

“No, I don’t.”

“250 pounds right now,” he answered. “It’s enough…more than enough, even.”

You folded your arms, looking at it. The sun was hiding behind a cloud and you no longer had to squint. There was silence. You heard the horse whinny behind you at a bug that buzzed by him. Turning around, you saw him only looking at you, still smiling his same smile, but with something behind it.

“Enough for…for what?” you questioned, shrugging.

Suddenly you knew how much 150 pounds could buy a man and you froze.

“Why…why are you telling me this? What’s happening?” you asked, you felt a rush. Your muscles were tense as if ready to flee. It was like hope, but too good, too good to be true. It was false. This had to be false.

“Y/N…I know you want me to help you, and I think, to…to keep you safe…” He looked down at his hands and then turned his head up.

“Would you like me to become your husband?” he asked.

You freeze. The words seem to echo in your ear. Your hands reach up and catch yourself, nearly dizzy from the shock. He leaned over and took your hand to steady you

“What? But you’re engaged! You can’t take another wife, it’s illegal!” you cried.

“I broke if off three nights ago after you told me what she did to Mercy…” he said, leaning down to look you in the eye.

“Wha-How? Is that illegal?” you gasped.

“No. I already paid the company early for Jocelyn. Now she’s here and they have their money. The governor gave his consent for a quiet annulment. Honestly, the company won’t care if she’s married if they have the money…I was thinking…”

He cupped your cheek and you leaned on it, your hand on top of his.

“This is the way you could be kept safe. You would have my constant protection. No need to check the food. Because I will always try it. I or Mercy would always be by your side. And I’m going to hire a soldier to guard you and…I remember you said that you loved me…do you still love me?”

His voice softened. You found yourself tearing up, jaw open from the feeling of sudden, extreme happiness.

“I-I do,” you answered, your voice breaking.

“Then we could be together…would you…would you like that? Let me be plain…”

He took both of your hands, speaking with a docile voice.

“Y/N, would you like to marry me?”

Tears dotted your eyelids, sobbing but with happiness. You reached a hand up to wipe it away, finding smiling almost aching your face

“I wouldn’t marry any other man in all the world but you. Y-yes!” you choked out, embracing him.

He scooped you up into a hug, picking you up and turning around your skirt flying. Hidden with the tall green leaves and solitude of the plants, you began to laugh a little. He placed his hands on your face and you both kissed, eyes closing with the pleasure of feeling it. When you let go, you both opened your eyes, but his hands were still on your face.

He cupped your face.

“You! You-You’ll be my wife!”

You kissed the right hand that was holding you.

“And you’ll be my husband, the best of husbands in all creation,” you confirmed.

Both of you walked for a while, somewhat closer to the trees. But holding hands. Enjoying a bit of touching, innocent touching, that could still be permitted. Smiling, enjoying the moment. And the fields, rolling on forever into the horizon where the sun was starting to fade. Where anything was possible now.

“When will be a good date…I’m just worried what…about what people will think of…”

“How could anyone think that?”

“I was Jocelyn’s maid not long ago…” you reminded him.

The air soured from her name and the memory.

“We will think of a date…”

“We can’t wait too long. The company might want to send me away to get married. I…I’ve heard of it happening,” you added.

He pulled you into a slight hug, “it will be okay…it all will be.”

He scooped you up and placed you back on the horse, passing the fields and woods. Once you rode into town, you felt you could sprout wings. Yet to your surprise, he passed by where you lived, heading straight to the Governor’s house.

“Governor Yeardley!” he called out, the cheeriness in his voice could not be contained.

To your surprise, he held onto your waist as he helped you off and you were giddy at the feeling of his hands on you in public.

The governor walked out the door. Nearby you heard a gasp and your head looked to your left. Mercy walk by with a small bucket of water. She seemed as healthy as before, hardly a sign of poisoning.

Samuel held onto your hand. He raised it up pridefully as in a dance.

“Master, master…what’s going on! What is she-oh goodness, I’m so sorry, governor…” Mercy began, her white-capped head turning into a polite curtsy.

He raised his hand with a kind smile, “no, child, you’re alright…”

“Governor, I would like to ask for your consent and your blessing to marry this woman,” Samuel announced, gesturing to you.

“Marry!” Mercy blurted, eyes large.

Governor Yeardley’s eyes squinted as he looked at you. Part of you shied away, hiding a little behind his arms. Maybe he noticed your apron versus the richness of Samuel’s cloak and came to conclusions.

“Yes, may I, Governor?” he repeated.

“Do you have 150 pounds of tobacco for her?” he asked, arms crossing.

“I do.”

“And has she consented? I can’t allow one of the maids to marry a man against her will,” he said.

You stepped forward bravely.

“I…I have,” You replied.

“Then I don’t see why not! When will the wedding be?”

Both of you sighed out, looking at each other, grinning wide in relief.

“I think…next Wednesday I believe. Not too soon to prepare, but not too late for the company,” you said. “Is that alright?”

“It is fine by me,” Samuel responded. He almost seemed to glow with joy.

Governor Yeardley nodded.

“Alright, Master Castell- bring your check and promise the company representative and you will be clear that this maid is purchased for your hand,” He informed.

Heart fluttering, you threw in another word.

“When’s the latest it can be brought?” you asked.

“After the wedding. After that and your fiancée will be in debt,” he informed.

Fiancée. You looked at him again, the word so new and pouring in your mind still. Fiancée. Fiancée. He is my fiancée! You thought.

“It will be that morning, then. Can it?” Samuel asked.

“Then, that morning, Y/N, I will write a check to the company, if that is what you would like.”

“It is,” you informed.

“Well then, Master Castell- come in and have a quick drink with me to celebrate!” Governor Yeardley praised, his hand going over his shoulder and patting it.

“I’ll be out soon, stay here with Mercy,” he promised.

As the men chatted inside. Mercy went up to you, setting her bucket down.

“You’re marrying the master! But…what of Mistress Woodbyrg? He can’t keep two wives!” she commented.

“She’s…she’s no longer engaged. He broke it off with her…” you told her.

Fists tightening, you hoped maybe one day, she would know the truth. But not now.

“Oh but a wedding! A wedding! All that work to be done!”

She began pacing, counting all the chores on her fingers, but her smile still present.

“All the cooking, ribbons to tie-and lots of cleaning too, but there will be cakes! And-and the ladies toss flowers! I’ll need to pick some flowers. And maybe there will be some music! And there’s clothes and such to be picked but…”

“Mercy, I can help you, if you’d like!” you suggested, leaning forward. Yet she almost backed away from you, a little surprised at the closeness.

She stopped her excited monologue to gaze at you.

“I’ll have another mistress. I remember when…when you were kind to me that day. And when you told me you were a servant for the mistress…and now she’s out and you’re my mistress!” she gasped

“Yes. I…I can’t believe it either…I’ve never had a servant either…” you confessed awkwardly. Mercy kept blinking and you felt her eyes look around and all over you.

“I just hope I can live up to your standards of a mistress, Mercy…”

“You’re not the one to be afraid, Y/N, Miss, oh! I don’t even know what to call you now!”

The door clicked open and the men were out, Samuel turned to you and took both of your hands smiling.

“Mercy, I see you’ve met your new mistress…” he started.

“But what of Miss Woodbyrg? Would it not break her heart, sir, if I may be bold?” she asked.

He showed no reaction, his body only stiffened.

“While you were sick, I called it off.”

“Why? Pardon my questioning?”

“Because…because we were not fit to be together, I learned. And she did not want to marry me. I decided to spare us from pain,” He told flatly.

He walked over, placing both hands on your shoulders fondly, softly.

“Y/N is a kind-hearted lady and you will not find anyone better. You’ve met before. You know what she is like. Since she is going to be my wife, from now on you are to watch her…and guard her every bit like your old mistress, can you?” he ordered.

“I… I can,” Mercy answered, she bobbled her head up and down in a rush.

He offered you his arm and boldly he kissed your cheek. Despite the slight flush of embarrassment, you were excited to be so affectionate with him in front of people.

“It will be here sooner than we think…I’m thrilled.” He cheered, walking over to his house.

A few dogs and pigs trotted by. There was smoke from some home fires inside and you heard the clang of James work nearby. People passed by and you immediately tensed when they saw you.

“I am too,” you muttered.

“I have half an hour before I must go to work. Is there anything you would like, Y/N? We need to...get more used to being a couple.”

A couple. The words rolled off his mouth so easily.

“I…I’m hungry, do you have any food at your house?” you asked.

“Darling, of course” he turned pink at the sound and you held back a small giggle at the word.

He led you to his house and Mercy fixed a small plate for you.

“Wait!” you cried, pushing it away. “Is it…is it safe?”

He took his fork and ate pieces of each food before you dared do it. After a bit of time passed, he nodded at you. Then you began to stuff yourself boldly. It was so long since you could eat without fear.

“Here, have some water…” he offered, passing a cup.

Gulping it down, you almost wanted to cry from how nice it was to eat and not be afraid. Though Mercy gawked at you. What lady ate like this?

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“Much better,” you answered.

He went to his desk and returned with a few items behind his back. He grinned like a schoolboy.

“I have this for you- a love token! If you don’t mind.” He said. “For the dear flower of my life.”

From his hand was a small silver token- a flower in the shape of a daffodil. You gasped and held it in your hand. It was small and light enough that maybe it could go on your clothes.

“Thank you! It’s wonderful! I feel like a real lady!” you responded.

“You’ve always been a true lady, Y/N,” he answered, seeing it in your hand.

Glancing over to the desk, you saw a wealth of books and paper. More than enough than you would need. Even with the marriage coming up, you had to be sure. And now that you were engaged to him…maybe it would add fuel to Jocelyn’s fire and an even bigger target on your back. Your plan could still not be tossed away.

“And Samuel… may I have some paper? And ink and quills? I want to practice writing more…” you asked.

If you had to risk death for such happiness, you needed to take further steps and not just with Alice. Whatever it took to feel like this again. To know even if you died, you would not die voiceless.

Taglist: @stardust-killer-queen @queenlover05 @itsametaphorgwil @grigorlee @bluesfortheredj @isitstraightvodka @rhapsodyrecs (for cheering me for going to revising when the first draft winded me out) @itscale @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @rubystarflight @theworksgaga @theoneandonlyeclecticepileptic @theoneandonlyeclecticepilepic

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cheshiresense · 5 years

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Oooh! Um... How about Kisuke/Yoruichi/Ichigo? Shadowrun AU (Fantasy AU if you don't know Shadowrun)

Lol I have no idea what Shadowrun is, did a quick google and it’s something like magic + cyberpunk + vaguely futuristic post-apocalyptic setting + virtual reality?? Omg it’s too complicated to write just from reading the wiki lmao, I’ll just give you a cyberpunk fantasy AU.

Edit: This got away from me a bit whoops.

1. Kisuke is your average humble toymaker in the Slums who may or may not supply the underground Robin Hood-esque rebel faction Visored with not-so-average weapons and prosthetics and various repairs and upgrades. The Visored are pretty much wanted in every kingdom in existence, partly because half of them used to be nobles themselves and were part of the minority who hated the way they treated their citizens, mostly because they keep fucking with the other nobles, but no one except said nobles actually wants them to stop because everybody who isn’t nobility pretty much hates those who are. Mostly, it’s the three neighbouring kingdoms - Seireitei, Silbern, and Las Noches - sitting cozy up in their walled off flourishing cities up high, constantly at war with each other but with plenty to eat and plenty of money to fund their large-scale chess games, and paying almost zero attention to the poor and homeless outside their walls. That doesn’t stop them from forcibly conscripting the lower class as cannon fodder or using the Slums as their personal dumping grounds or imprisoning or executing anyone they decide is breaking one law or another. Kisuke’s stayed under the radar so far, so nobody knows he’s the man even more wanted than the Visored, if only for his prodigal skills with cybertech. He’s the one who built their equipment and vehicles, who repaired Hiyori’s spine after she’d been left unable to walk from an ambush and produced a new arm for Hachi after it was cut off in a skirmish, both of which work just as well as the original parts. Most of the nobles either want to kill him or “hire” him. But a toymaker in the Slums who cobbles together tiny cats and dragons and chickens and pixies out of scrap metal for children to play with isn’t anything to look twice at.

2. Here is a secret only a handful of people know - Shihouin Yoruichi was born a cripple. She couldn’t walk, at all, and even the best prosthetics money could buy from the various cybertech companies were clunky and awkward and only allowed her to limp a certain distance. Her family, one of the great noble houses of Seireitei that specialized in seduction and assassination, hid her away out of shame, right up until a rebellious teenaged Yoruichi had had enough and snuck out one night on nothing but her wobbly fake legs and a crutch. She’d spent enough time on her own for the majority of her childhood to know just about every passageway and secret door that snaked through the length and width of Seireitei. She didn’t stop until she appeared in the Slums, and she fainted from exhaustion and hunger only a few days later, but she never looked back. Kisuke found her, took her in, and then made her legs on a whim, upgrading them every time he figured out something new and better that he could add to them. In exchange, Yoruichi used her newfound mobility to retrieve better materials for Kisuke, robbing delivery trucks en route to Seireitei’s cybertech companies or outright stealing from her own family’s weapons storage. Anything they could buy, Kisuke could reverse-engineer and make better. Ten years after she left her old life behind, her legs are a work of art, connected to her nerves to give her complete control over them but granting her superhuman speed and jumping ability, and she’d practiced enough with them over the years that her mind had no problems keeping up with both. The prosthetics are lightweight but strong enough to withstand the swing of a blade or the impact of a bullet, and she would give a lot to see her family’s faces if they ever realize just who has been ransacking their vaults.

3. Most people carry some kind of weapon these days, but the best - for those who can afford them, or can call Kisuke a friend - can take the form of a companion when not in combat. Shinji’s is in the shape of a sphinx, all sleek lines and feline flexibility, but one that shifts into a sword in a silent whir of pulsing blue lines and polished metal at his command. Mashiro’s is a pixie, not unlike the toys commonly seen in Kisuke’s part of the Slums, except hers includes translucent wings threaded with pale green wiring. It’s perpetually perched on her shoulder, but in a fight, the pixie fuses with her hands and legs, the wings melting and sliding over her skin like liquid mercury to form gloves and boots that increase the power of her kicks and punches.

Yoruichi’s is a black cat but nobody actually knows what kind of weapon it can turn into. More often than not, Yoruichi sends it off as a spy because the thing is so realistic nobody can actually tell it’s not a real animal unless they get close enough to see the delicate wiring in its yellow eyes.

Nobody’s ever seen Kisuke’s either, weapon or otherwise, until a spy from a cybertech company snoops too closely around his shop. Then the other occupants get front-row seats to the bright red threads that extend from his hands - hands that light up with the many, many upgrades inside, a complicated maze of crimson circuits swirling beneath his flesh - and attach themselves to their target like strings on a puppet. At least he takes it out back before he literally rips the spy apart.

4. Once upon a time, before Yoruichi was even born, there were five noble houses instead of four. But the fall of the Shiba Clan is never talked about, and most don’t even remember the details anymore, only that most were put to the sword and the rest were scattered. One of the runners in Kisuke’s employ - the many who scrounge through the Slums’s trash heaps for parts Kisuke might find useful - is a boy on the cusp of twenty who looks uncannily like the last Shiba clan head before the family’s collapse. He goes by Ichigo and doesn’t seem aware of his lineage, and if he notices the way Shinji almost always makes an appearance when he comes in with his haul, and his payment always ends up including several extra portions of food and some high-grade medical supplies and even a new change of clothes now and then, he never says anything. After they find out he has two little sisters to feed, a handful of toys get bundled in as well, free of charge.

Kisuke wouldn’t know a Shiba from a Shihouin, and Yoruichi’s family never bothered teaching her all the things an heir or even just an average noble-born child would’ve needed to know, so neither of them treats Ichigo differently because of his blood or background. They do treat him differently because none of Kisuke’s runners have lasted as long as Ichigo. Sooner or later, they disappear, arrested by guards or killed in a back alley scuffle. Ichigo slinks into the shop at fifteen and still comes around every week like clockwork five years later. He always shows up with a decent haul too, and once, Yoruichi follows him, just to see where he’s getting his loot because surely most of the trash pits in the area have been picked clean over the years? There’s always more added to them, but not at the rate Ichigo is scrounging materials. So Yoruichi follows him one day when he leaves and that’s how they find out about his sisters and the makeshift hole in the wall they live in, shabby-looking on the outside but clean and cozy on the inside and insulated well from the cold. That’s also how they find out about all the enhancements Ichigo has, because Yoruichi makes the mistake of underestimating him and almost gets beheaded when he disappears and almost shivs her from behind with a hand-turned-blade, teeth bared like an animal as his eyes burn with golden circuitry.

(The Shiba Clan had been widely feared, once upon a time, for their genius in the more explosive weaponry and their talent with artificial intelligence and robotics and other biological cybertech enhancements. It was why they’d been so swiftly sentenced to death when they’d come down on the side of the poorfolk. Even one Shiba would’ve been equivalent to having a small army in one’s arsenal.)

Ichigo moved faster, jumped higher, hit harder, than anything Yoruichi had ever come up against. The crack of his heel coming down against the ground shattered rock and cement everywhere, and the only thing that saved her life that day was her dodging ability and a quickly shouted explanation for why she’d followed him in the first place. Ichigo wasn’t unreasonable, even if he wasn’t entirely human. His enhancements explained how he could move further through the Slums for loot and still put down roots in the area. It took some coaxing and several dozen more months of coming and going from the shop, but eventually, he’d also admitted that he didn’t know where his enhancements had come from, he couldn’t remember anything from before waking up the Slums with two regular human toddlers who called him brother depending on him. The only thing imprinted in his memory were the directives: 1) Take Care of Your Sisters, and 2) Survive.

But he was the most powerful thing around for miles, and Kisuke was fascinated because the work done on Ichigo was only vaguely like his own, and far more advanced than anything the nobility churned out these days. Yoruichi didn’t care as much, but she liked having a new sparring partner, not to mention Ichigo was very easy on the eyes, and a few more years on him meant Yoruichi could appreciate the sight without feeling like she was preying on a child.

Ichigo kept coming back, and eventually Kisuke managed to wheedle Ichigo into getting a checkup and upgrades, especially when he started outgrowing a few of his joint ports. Yoruichi watched the two of them make moon eyes at each other, listened to Kisuke ramble about something Ichigo told him the day before, noted the way Ichigo’s eyes sometimes strayed to Kisuke when the man wandered outside without a shirt and his pants on backwards after too many hours in his lab, and she was almost tempted to lock them in a closet together.

(She doesn’t notice the way Kisuke smiles indulgently at her when she comes home from a trip into Seireitei with an icebox of fresh strawberries from the Kuchikis infamous gardens because they’re Ichigo’s favourite, nor does she see Ichigo blink and cock his head in new understanding sometimes when he observes the way she drapes herself over Kisuke, comfortable and relaxed, but never does it with anyone else.)

In the world they live in though, trust is more important than love. Yoruichi has trusted Kisuke since she met him, and Kisuke’s trusted her since she was down two legs and still flung herself between him and a thief with a knife who thought the shop easy pickings. And the day Ichigo brings his sisters over and lets them run around out of his sight is the day they know he trusts them. It’s only natural to offer him and his little family a room of their own at the shop.

5. The day Yoruichi comes back with news of the Silbern Kingdom’s royal family and Las Noches’ royal family both being overthrown by several of their own noble families - the Ishidas and the Kurosakis, and the Coyotes, the Tu Odelschwancks, the Cifers, and the Jaegerjaquezs respectively - is the same day Shinji comes to them and tells them about the revolution movement that’s been in the works for a while now, about the remains of the Shiba Clan currently helping the Ishidas and Kurosakis take over Silbern, and about Ichigo’s own past - memory wiped for his own good because rumours of a Shiba child successfully integrated with his clan’s still experimental but groundbreaking technology had leaked, and if they’d gotten their hands on him, they would’ve turned him into their weapon. Better to hide him in the Slums, along with his two sisters who wouldn’t be of any use in a war for several more years, until they need him again, which they do now, because as soon as Silbern and Las Noches are theirs, they’ll be moving on to Seireitei post haste, and a two-pronged attack while the Gotei is still scrambling to defend themselves would hit them hardest, because for all that the kingdoms have been at war with each other for years, it had never been so direct, nor had their goals ever moved beyond poaching each other’s technologies. But for the revolution movement to succeed, they need Ichigo on their side, and it wouldn’t hurt for Kisuke and Yoruichi to join them too, technically Kisuke’s been their weapons-backer for years, and Yoruichi’s been their ear to the ground in Seireitei for just as long, and they’ll need all hands on deck. The kids can be left with Tessai.

Ichigo storms out. Yoruichi demands to know why they were never told before. And Kisuke surveys a tense-looking Shinji (who explains that it was supposed to be for their safety too - because Yoruichi was their only successful spy in Seireitei, and very, very few could match Kisuke’s genius, and it was just better to keep them out of the way) from beneath his hat before smiling blandly and promptly catching the man with a flick of his hand and five threads, unceremoniously tossing him out the window before he and Yoruichi both go to find Ichigo. It doesn’t take a genius to guess he’d returned to the hole-in-the-wall home he’d made for his sisters, and they join him after Ichigo acknowledges them with a jerk of his shoulders. They don’t speak right away, Ichigo sitting in stony silence, Yoruichi curled on one side of him still seething, Kisuke on his other, absently flexing one red-tinted hand in that way he only does when he’s contemplating murder.

They’ll help, all three of them. They don’t even need to discuss that. It’s high time for the upper-class to get their lives shaken up, the Slums are a disgrace, and if they have the chance to change that, they’ll take it, even if it means working beside people who have been using them for their own ends without giving them so much as a heads-up. Or in Ichigo’s case, will be using him since it’s pretty apparent he might not be the Gotei’s weapon but he is still very much the Shibas’ weapon, reserved for emergencies.

“Regimes come and go every day,” Kisuke remarks first, right hand fanning open, then closing, then opening again, crimson circuits shimmering along the vein lines of his palm.

“What a shame,” Yoruichi agrees with a grin that’s two-parts teeth and all-parts spite.

“…Three of us against three kingdoms that’ve just taken a beating?” Ichigo muses, but his eyes flare gold, and he’s smiling too. “Sounds like fun.”

#headcanon meme: answered #bleach #uraichiyoru #urahara kisuke #shihouin yoruichi #kurosaki ichigo #cyberpunk au #fantasy au #aniseandspearmint #headcanon

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magniloquent-raven · 4 years

Text

finished your buckleway prompt!! hope u like it 💕💕

modern AU + werewolf AU, enjoy

posted on ao3

Heather’s been dancing around asking Robin out for the past three weeks. Billy has probably had enough of her flip-flopping between waxing poetic and bemoaning how complicated dating humans gets.

Especially since he had ended up in a storage closet with Steve on his knees a whole thirty minutes after they met, and they’d been fucking anywhere and everywhere ever since. She’s getting sick of smelling salt and sex and Steve all over their apartment, but they’ve showed no signs of slowing down. Billy’s smug as hell about it too. He loves having Steve’s scent all over their living space, the disgusting sap.

Of course, he’s still being Billy about the situation, but at least he was getting some action in between bouts of what if he leaves me when he finds out angst.

Whereas Heather is burning through more AAA batteries than she can afford to. Constantly plagued with thoughts of leaving lipstick mark up Robin’s neck, teeth on her collarbone, what that husky voice would sound like wrecked and breathy in her ear.

It’s becoming a problem.

And the closer they get to the full moon the harder it is to be around Robin. The more she wants to just throw caution to the wind, bury her face in Robin’s cleavage and ride her thigh into oblivion.

But she can’t just do that, because they like the same shitty indie bands, and Robin’s rants about the film industry are the highlight of her day, and her laugh makes Heather’s heart do backflips, and…

She’s human.

Heather can’t just jump her and run, because she’s head over fucking heels for this girl, but she has no idea how Robin would react to the werewolf revelation, so… She’s stuck.

As much as Billy pokes fun at her, and lords his relationship with Steve over her, they both know he’s being just as much of an idiot as she is. The wolf isn’t something you can hide from a partner, not for long. Billy’s playing a dangerous game.

Then again, that’s kind of his thing.

Point is, by the time the full moon comes around they’re both miserable. Billy’s been moping around their apartment all day because he had to make a lame-ass excuse to Steve about why they couldn't see each other today. He’s been looking like a lost pup for hours because Steve pouted a little over Facetime.

Meanwhile Heather’s been binging shitty rom-coms on Netflix all day, wrapped around a sweater she stole from Robin last week. It barely smells like her anymore, but it’s all she’s got.

They’re not at their best.

The itch that comes in late afternoon, when the sun starts to make its way down the horizon, is almost a relief. It might not be pleasant but at least it’s a respite from being bored and lonely.

Around dusk they head out.

Putting on a pair of running shoes and shorts pretty much covers for the fact that two grown adults sprinting into the woods at night is suspicious as hell. Hopefully. No one’s questioned them yet, anyways.

Probably helps that they run on regular days too.

Heather stops at the tree-line and sniffs the air. Everything’s sharper than it usually would be. The earth, the clean, dewy scent of wet leaves, Billy next to her, a solid, warm presence, smelling like home, pack, friend, musky and comforting under the chemical scent of all the products he slathers on.

The wind picks up.

She sniffs again.

Kali and her pack are already here. Figures. They’re always eager to let loose, full moon or not. They get especially rowdy this time of the month.

Billy whoops, taking off into the woods with a grin. He must smell them too.

She runs after him, the wind in her hair, cool air needling some colour into her cheeks. It’s exactly what she needed after the day she had. Hell, the week she’s had.

Robin is, for the first time in weeks, not at the forefront of her mind. There’s nothing but the pull of the moon, the rush of adrenaline that comes with it. The thrill of the hunt-to-be.

She won’t be chasing anything but rabbits and her friends, but the buzz is the same. Without the crushing guilt afterwards.

“Always late to the party,” Kali chides when Heather and Billy crash through the underbrush into view. She’s standing in the middle of a clearing, hands on her hips and chin tilted like she owns the place. But her smile is warm, tone teasing.

Her pack surrounds her, grinning, as always, toeing the line between feral and friendly. If Billy wasn’t so relaxed around them Heather would be on edge. They’ve always made her a little uncomfortable.

Billy blames her upper-middle-class suburban upbringing, and...well, he’s not wrong.

They embrace their wolves a little too fully, every day of the year, always just a little lupine. All of them except Kali, who stays too human, even when shifted.

Dottie breaks from the group first, leaping forward and crashing into Billy. She’s tiny, werewolf strength be damned, and he barely moves when she hits, just wraps his arms around her to swing her around while she giggles.

“You stink, Spots,” Billy says when he puts her down. “When’re you gonna stop puttin’ that shit in your hair?”

“When it stops bugging you,” she snickers.

Funshine is next, slower about moving forward, more deliberate about his hug. Dottie re-attaches herself to Billy, trying to wrap her arms around both of them. It devolves into a cluster of the six of them, all scenting each other, hands in each other's hair, arms wrapped around waists, contentment rolling off them in waves.

Heather basks in it for a second, the feeling of pack. It’s soothing, like sunshine warming her face, like a tight hug from someone you love.

It makes the change easier when it hits, moments later. It’s not the agony it was when she was alone.

It still hurts. When there’s hair sprouting like needles pushing through her skin, gums bruising as her canines turn to fangs, of course there’s pain, but the ache is dulled.

She used to hate this part. The slipping away. Changing places with the wolf inside her and feeling it happen. It felt like being torn away and locked up in her own head. She fought against it every time.

It wasn’t until she met Kali that she realized— was taught— that fighting her wolf only makes it worse. She learned to relinquish control instead of having it taken from her. To sink into her own subconscious like a warm bath, relax into it and float away. Become the wolf.

She hits the ground panting.

Claws dig into the dirt. Running shoes get kicked off. They land somewhere in the underbrush. She can sniff them out later, they aren’t a priority right now.

A whine escapes her, pressure building at the base of her skull as the moon rises.

And then it bursts. Relief in technicolour.

She’s free.

Billy is beside her, breathing hard, a guttural growl ripping from his throat. Pungent, sour distress rolls off him in waves, hits Heather’s nose like a physical blow.

He’s always had trouble relinquishing control.

She nudges his arm. Rubs their shoulders together. Kali joins them, lays a hand on his back.

He relaxes eventually, agonizing minutes later, his scent softening back to friend. Pack. Good.

Around them Kali’s pack howls, pleased. Two of them take off, chasing each other through the trees, another follows, Heather listens to their footsteps grow fainter.

Then the wind shifts and brings with it a new scent.

Familiar. Sweet, smoky. Hints of spice. Unmistakably human.

It’s faint. Far enough away that she can’t hear the heartbeat that should accompany it.

But she’d recognize that scent anywhere.

Mate.

Her wolf howls, louder than it's ever been, drowning out what’s left of Heather and her awareness slips away.

The sun wakes her.

She blinks, eyes gummy, vision blurry from sleep, spotty as she adjusts to the light.

Something beneath her shifts.

Heather stiffens.

The sound of the woods around her she expected, the scent of dried sweat on her skin, dirt under her nails. But she also expected to hear her pack’s heartbeats, smell Billy nearby, the pack blending into an overwhelming but comforting blanket of warmth around her.

There’s only one heartbeat, pounding loud and fast against her ear. One scent. Earthy. Spiced.

And afraid.

Heather pushes back, scrambling away from the warm body under her, anxiety tying her stomach in knots.

“Robin!?” she squeaks, croaky from sleep, from the change.

“What the fuck,” is all Robin manages to say. She’s shaking, wide-eyed. “Heather, what— what the fuck!”

This is...bad. Very bad.

Heather can’t do much more than gape at Robin, her brain still trying to catch up to what she’s seeing.

She tries to remember what even happened last night but all she gets are flashes. The turn. Kali’s pack howling around her. The scent of smoke and spice on the wind, of—

Oh. Oh.

She’s always been a little overwhelmed by how Robin makes her feel. Felt it immediately. That connection. A desire to know her, get close to her, keep her.

It terrified her. That Robin is human, that she felt so strongly about someone she barely knew.

That she didn’t quite know why.

Well, she knows now. And somehow the truth is more intimidating.

Of course, her wolf doesn’t care about the risks. Didn’t care, when she sprinted through the woods to find Robin. To be near her.

She remembers bits and pieces. Robin’s quiet gasp when Heather leapt into view. The fierce protectiveness she felt when she smelled Robin’s fear.

Of course, Robin was afraid of her, so getting up close and personal trying to comfort her really didn’t help. Not that she realized that at the time.

She really should be worried about bigger things right now, but embarrassment colours her cheeks anyways.

Dumbass wolf.

Robin’s breathing is starting to sound labored, panic gripping her tighter the longer Heather is silent.

“Heather?” Robin says quietly, tentatively, eyeing her cautiously.

“Um…good morning?” she responds, grimacing as she does. It’s getting hard to look Robin in the eye.

“Really?” Robin laughs, breathlessly and without humor. “Really? Because I was supposed to be waking up in my bed right about now, and instead I spent the night here, not sleeping because I blind fucking terror isn’t a great sedative.”

“Robin, I—” Heather opens and closes her mouth a few times, still at a loss for words. “I’m—I’m sorry. Just— what were you even doing out here?” she groans, burying her face in her hands.

“Full moon ritual,” Robin snaps, “You know, meditating on— no, you know what,” she shakes her head vigorously, bringing up a hand to gesture at Heather, “I’m not the one who has some fucking explaining to do. What the hell, Heather?”

“I thought the whole,” Heather waves a hand, “Hairy and growling on a full moon...thing, was pretty self-explanatory,” she says sheepishly.

“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t play dumb, you’re no good at it.”

Heather blinks. Looks up at Robin, her flushed cheeks and the indignant downturn of her mouth. Despite the circumstances, Heather’s heart flutters.

She sighs. “Alright.” Robin raises an expectant eyebrow when Heather pauses to collect her thoughts. “We spend full moons out here to be away from people. Running on basic instinct around humans generally doesn’t end well.”

“Yeah, no shit. So why am I still alive?”

“I…”

There’s no way of explaining this and keeping her and Robin’s friendship intact. Even if the werewolf thing doesn’t put her off, you never drop the mate revelation on someone you’re not even dating.

Hell, Heather’s still trying to wrap her head around it. She can only imagine how it would sound to Robin.

“Just tell me,” Robin’s pulse is skyrocketing again, and she’s worrying her shirt sleeve between her fingers. The impassive look on her face is obviously fake, she can’t quite keep herself from chewing the inside of her cheek.

Heather watches Robin’s jaw work until she smells blood. “Stop that.” She lifts a finger to poke the side of Robin’s face, but Robin tenses. Minutely. Only for a second.

But long enough.

Heather drops her hand.

“I would never hurt you,” she says softly. “I couldn’t.” Robin blinks at her, and opens her mouth like she’s going to speak but no words come out, so Heather continues.

“When I turned last night, I— I know how this sounds but— I could smell you. You smelled like home. Like… well, the point is, I just… had to find you. The details are a little sketchy, I don’t remember much besides needing to be near you. But that was all it was, Robin. Even shifted I knew you. Knew not to hurt you.”

Robin’s heartbeat hasn’t slowed. Her expression is still shell-shocked, almost more than before. Heather’s heart sinks.

Her eyes fall, unbidden, to Robin’s chest. The visible pulse under her skin. “You’re still afraid.”

“I—” Robin clutches the front of her shirt reflexively, hand over her pounding heart, and then frowns. “You can hear it,” she says, accusing, and Heather recoils.

“I’m sorry! I can’t help it.”

“Heather….” Robin groans “This whole time you could hear my heartbeat?! And smell my— my pheromones, or whatever?” She buries her face in her hands. The tips of her ears are pink.

“It’s a werewolf thing! I—” Heather stops, face burning. There’s nothing she can say to make it better. No one likes knowing that someone can smell how long it’s been since you washed your hair, or how well you washed your hands, or exactly what you’ve been binge eating at 3am. It’s invasive. Took Heather ages to get used to it after she was bitten.

In fact, it still makes her uncomfortable. Enough that she tries to ignore what she’s smelling and hearing as much as possible, for the sake of people’s privacy. And her sanity. The walls of her and Billy’s apartment are very thin.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s weird,” Heather says quietly.

“Yeah. It is,” Robin mutters, muffled by her palms. She peeks through her fingers before dropping her hands into her lap. “Look, just… give me some time, okay? I need a nap. And a shower. And…” She sighs. Tugs on a lock of her hair. “Just give me a couple days. Please.”

Heather blinks back tears. She knows what Robin is asking for is reasonable. It’s better than how she could have reacted. But it still hurts, and a part of her that wonders if a couple days are going to turn into weeks. Months. If she’s just being polite and, in fact, plans on ghosting Heather the second she’s out of sight.

“Okay.”

Robin opens the door to her apartment with shaking fingers. There’s so much on her mind, though her thoughts are muddled by sleep-deprivation, foggy and unfocused.

Heather, hair loose and wild, eyes shining in the moonlight and fixed on Robin. She stopped Robin’s heart even before the revelation that there was something different about her. In the gloom it was hard to tell at first, but details started to stick out. Her eyes were glassy. Fingernails too sharp, jagged and curled into claws. She was barefoot, her posture was all wrong. Her hair brushed aside as she moved and revealed pointed ears, covered in thick fur.

And once Robin started to panic…

Heather’s reaction made no sense.

She has a lot to think about.

Like how devastated Heather looked when Robin told her she needed some space.

“Fuck,” Robin mutters, shutting the door behind her. Maybe a little too forcefully.

“Robin?!” Steve shouts from the next room. Before she can respond he comes skidding down the hallway and barrels into her. “Where have you been?” he demands, too loud and right in her ear.

He pulls back, hands on her shoulders and gives her an appraising look.

“And why are there leaves in your hair?” He pauses, and his eyes widen, full of concern. “Robin, are you alright?”

She struggles to come up with an answer that won’t sound like a blatant lie. And besides the fact that he probably wouldn’t believe her anyways, the whole werewolf thing isn’t her secret to tell.

“I. Um. I’m fine. Ran into Heather.”

You’d think growing up queer in a small town would’ve made her a better liar.

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Then why do you look miserable.”

“It’s…” she sighs, “Ask me tomorrow. Right now I need sleep.”

He frowns. Hard. Frowns with his whole body. But he nods anyway, albeit reluctantly. “I’m late for work,” he says, glancing at the clock on the wall like it’s personally responsible for his constant tardiness. “But I’ll call in sick if you want me to stay. No questions asked.”

That coaxes a smile out of her. His kindness still catches her off guard sometimes. Even after he moved to California with her when she got into uni out here. After she came out to him and he made her laugh, despite how terrified she was. After he got her through the horror of working at Scoops Ahoy.

She steps away from the door, clearing the way for him. “You don’t have any sick days left, dingus. I’ll be okay. Pretty sure I know how to take a nap without supervision.”

“Alright.” he eyes her carefully, “But text me if you need anything. I mean it.”

She nods, and tries to school her expression into something encouraging. He’s going to worry no matter what she does but she can at least try.

It doesn’t work, predictably. He leaves their apartment with a crease between his eyebrows and a lingering look at Robin before he closes the door.

“Fuck,” she mutters again.

Getting herself showered and into PJs takes longer than she’d like. There are so many leaves tangled in her hair she considers just shaving her head so she can go to sleep, and she keeps drifting off, lulled into a stupor by the hot water.

But once she’s comfortably buried under a mound of blankets, clean, warm, and so, so tired, she just lays there, awake.

She keeps replaying her and Heather’s conversation in her head, telling herself she should have reacted better, been better, not run off because...

See, the werewolf thing she probably could have handled. It’s ridiculous, and so fucking out there, but Heather’s still Heather. When she isn’t all wolfy anyway. And even that was weird but not a dealbreaker. She didn’t hurt Robin, just scared the piss out of her.

All Robin needed was to calm down a little to wrap her brain around it.

What she can’t handle is the fact that Heather, because of her fucking werewolf senses, most definitely knows exactly how attractive Robin finds her. Which is fucking mortifying.

Heather never struck Robin as the type to dance around a mutual attraction, so, clearly, it isn’t mutual, and Robin’s just been drooling over a girl who doesn’t want her. Again.

She needs a few days to lick her wounds.

Preferably starting with a goddamn nap, but sleep still eludes her.

She tosses and turns and tries not to think about sad, dark eyes. About Heather’s reassurances. I would never hurt you and You smelled like home, because what the fuck does that mean.

About Heather’s body curled around hers.

Needless to say, the countless times Robin imagined spending a night under Heather the context was very different, and the aftermath…

Robin groans into her pillow.

It takes her hours to fall asleep.

Two days later Steve has been reassured, Robin has gotten plenty of sleep, and she decides it’s time to stop moping.

Her decision to finally put pants on and leave her apartment is made only partially because she has to go to work. Really, she got to this point mostly on her own, promise.

She even sort of plans to talk to Heather today.

What she didn’t plan on was Billy Hargrove ambushing her before her shift.

She’s just barely tied her apron on when he comes storming in. The cafe isn’t even open yet.

“What. The fuck. Did you do,” he snarls, slamming his hands on the counter when he gets close enough, leaning forward to glare at her.

“Hargrove, it’s too damn early for this, what are you—”

“Heather, dumbass. Tell me what you did to her.” It’s not a question, it’s a demand. There’s a coldness in his expression she’s never seen before.

Granted, she’s only ever hung out with him when Steve is around.

The way his shoulders tense, like he’s ready for a fight, almost scares her, but she’s too busy getting angry at his belligerence.

“Fuck you. I didn’t do anything—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Something clicks into place.

“Oh,” Robin narrows her eyes, “You’re one too, aren’t you.”

Billy growls, a little more wolf than human. “Yeah, you got a problem with that? That what this is about?”

“No, oh my god.”

“Then tell me why Heather’s been a fucking wreck since the full moon. She said you found out about her, and that’s all I can get out of her.”

“I… don’t know?” Robin’s stomach flips, and clenches painfully. She tugs on a lock of her hair. “I asked her for a bit of space, that’s it. I was going to text her today.”

“You better.”

“Alright, calm down, Mr. Macho,” Robin says flatly. God, he’s just the fucking most. She’d almost be able to appreciate how much he cares about Heather, if his wrath wasn’t currently focused on her.

He glowers a bit longer before retreating. Not even a goodbye, he just storms off.

Asshole.

He’s right though, she needs to text Heather. Who’s been just as miserable as Robin, apparently.

And hasn’t told her best friend why.

That bit of information niggles at her. All through her shift it lingers in the back of her brain, hanging back but always there, like the buzzing of an insect she can’t find.

By lunchtime it’s gotten so distracting that she’s fucked up five orders and dumped two drinks on her coworker.

Thankfully she’s done at noon, and her now very annoyed coworker tells her to piss off the second her shift is over.

She hasn’t texted Heather yet.

Every time she pulls her phone out she draws a blank. Has no idea what to say. “Hey, I’m done moping, sorry I hurt your feelings” doesn't seem to cut it.

She stares at her phone for fifteen minutes, motionless and completely at a loss, then sighs and tosses it on the passenger seat of her car.

Before she has time to question whether it’s a good idea or not, she pulls out of the parking lot and heads to Heather’s apartment.

It’s only a ten minute drive, but it’s plenty of time to second guess herself. And third guess. And fourth.

But she’s here, she’s doing this. She’s sweating bullets, but it’s happening.

Two flights of stairs later she’s staring at Heather’s front door, fist poised to knock, and not moving a muscle.

She takes a step back in surprise when the door swings open suddenly.

Robin blinks.

Heather’s standing in the doorway, hair loose and frizzy, deep purple shadows under her eyes. It looks like she hasn’t slept in days.

Her mouth is hanging open a little, and she’s staring.

“Uh. Hi,” Robin says. “I… can I come in?”

“Yes. Yeah, of course,” Heather fumbles, and runs a hand through her hair as she steps aside to let Robin in.

They stand in the front hall awkwardly after the door shuts behind them, shooting each other nervous glances but unsure what to say.

“I—” Robin pauses. Looks down. “Is that my sweater?”

Heather’s eyes widen, and she grasps the hem of it nervously. “Um. Yeah. Sorry, I can—” She starts to pull it off but Robin reaches out to stop her.

“Don’t.” She wraps her fingers around Heather’s wrist. “It looks good on you.”

“...Oh.” Heather’s lips curl in a pleased smile that sparks something in Robin’s chest.

“I was being an idiot,” Robin says quickly. Her heart is starting to pound, and she catches Heather glancing down curiously. “I—I just assumed that—” She closes her eyes briefly, frustrated. It’s no less difficult to put into words in person. “Look, you know I’m into you, right?”

Heather startles, eyes going wide. “What?!”

“You…” Robin gapes at her, “You didn’t know? I thought— I mean, all those things you said about… needing to find me. During the full moon. I— you got my hopes up but then…Look, you can hear heartbeats and shit! How did you not know?!”

“I...” Heather grimaces briefly, “It’s not an exact science, okay? I mean, I hoped you were, but you’re human, Robin,” she folds her arms across her chest, hugging herself, “I was more focused on that.”

Robin furrows her brow. “What? Why?”

“Seriously? Because all I did was cuddle a little too aggressively and I scared the shit out of you,” her voice cracks and her eyes start to look watery, “You’re my mate, Robin, I’m bound to you for life! And I had no idea if you’d ever want to see me again!” She stops suddenly, bites her lip as tears slip down her cheeks.

“Oh.”

Robin’s feeling a little like she’s been conked on the head. Dazed. Her brain trying to catch up with what’s going on.

She’s known Heather less than a month and apparently they’re already werewolf married, or whatever the hell mate means.

It’s slightly terrifying, but…

“Heather, look at me.”

She does. Looks up at Robin with red-rimmed eyes, and Robin’s whole chest contracts.

Without really thinking she leans down, and presses her mouth to Heather’s. It’s brief, chaste, but still makes her stomach flip and warms her from head to toe.

When she pulls back Heather sways forward, unbalanced for a moment, her eyelashes fluttering.

“I want to give this a shot, Heather. I… I’m sorry I freaked out, but I swear, I want this. You. All of you.”

Heather grins in response, bright and dazzling. It lights up her whole face, and her eyes start to well up again. Seemingly at a loss for words she instead chooses to launch herself forward, colliding with Robin as she wraps her arms around her and crashes their lips together again.

Robin staggers back a few paces but regains her balance enough to respond in kind, smiling against Heather’s mouth.

She feels right, wrapped around Robin, feels safe. Like home.

#robin buckley #heather holloway #bucklway #bucklway fic #robin x heather #robin buckley x heather holloway #a raven's writing desk

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wearesorcerer · 4 years

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Gorgoldand’s Gauntlet One-Shot...Part 2?! (of 3?)

To give the DM of our Sunday campaign a break, we players agreed to do round robin DMing sessions. I’ve somehow managed to be the first up for actual DMing. I hate DMing (except by play-by-post) and had joined this group so that I wouldn’t have to DM yet again, so naturally I was the first to have to DM an actual session outside of character creation. They gave me two demands: the game couldn’t be hack-and-slash and I was to make pregenerated characters.

So I did.

They are all quirky af. I’m running them through a module (”Gorgoldand’s Gauntlet,” 3.0 1st-level dungeon crawl, Dragon Annual #5, pg. 39-51) I thought wouldn’t take long. We just finished session two and I can foresee at least another session and probably two to complete it (12-14 hours of play at the rate we’re going).

Characters

My original intention was to make each character a character sheet that would neatly fit onto a 3″ x 5″ notecard, as I’d found dot grid ones at Walmart and figured I could manage.

Unfortunately, I lost those immediately before the session and had to remake the character sheets from memory an hour before the game was to start. These were on normal notecards because I didn’t have character sheets on hand, either.

Originally, I had rolled on the Random Edgelord Backstory Generator for each character and given them a detailed boon and drawback. (I managed to remember some of what I’d done, but only so much, so each is a little weirder as a result.) Each character comes from a different time period, the rationale being that they’d all been the victims of Victoria Belanger (with faux French pronunciation), a seemingly immortal medusa, and had found themselves restored in the bizarre-looking chambers of David Astanox, who requests as repayment that they survey Gorgoldand’s Gauntlet. The main DM couldn’t make it to the first session, so I left his character frozen in carbonite petrified in Astanox’s domain.

The characters are:

Gimli O’MacGloinovskiidesson, LN Male Dwarf Rogue. Medieval. Has a suit of mithril full plate of which he’s protective to the point of paranoia (it’s his former blankie), a phobia of all things bug-like (shrieks like a little girl [as in high pitched] on sight), and a fondness for good cheeses (specifically brie).

Ronan the Bardbarian, NG Male “Half-Orc” Skald. Bronze Age. He’s not actually a half-orc, but a genetic throwback; this gives him the Ferocity monster ability (but no Darkvision or fluency in Orcish) and Small Man Syndrome (despite being one of the biggest non-monster people he’s ever met). A former ~kindergarten teacher, he manipulates people into doing what he wants by treating them like his students (gold stars, etc.).

Phillip Withtwoells, NE Female “Halfling” Witch. Totally not a pile of crows in a coat. That’s because she’s actually a nickel possessing a pile of ravens (which have become her flock of familiars) and using them to masquerade as a halfling from c. 1955. She’s looking for a better host body (she’s immobile otherwise) and wants “shinies” to bribe/trick said host into accepting her.

The other DM’s character, Florence “F” Valentine, CN Male Dhampir Magus. Contemporary (petrified a couple of months ago). A coven of night hags and succubi seduced and devoured his imaginary friends; now he’s (almost literally) Batman. Despite this, he gets a twitch when confined to dark, dank spaces. Not particularly fond of short, human-like creatures (dwarves, some fey, gnomes, goblins, halflings, etc.). Surprisingly flammable.

Sessions

We’ve managed to make it through two rooms and a doorway each time we’ve played (c. 3-4 hours).

In the first session, Gimli repelled down a steep cliff face with Phillip tied to him (Ronan followed behind) to get into the dungeon. Unbeknownst to him, the jinkin (originally jermlaine; same thing lore-wise) who had taken up residence in the dungeon had added a trap at the entrance: a dead giant spider’s husk filled with dust of sneezing and choking (Fort DC 15 vs. 2d6 Con damage). Being arachnophobic, he attacked the husk and both he and Phillip took (2? 3? I forget) Con damage. Ronan then fell into a spiked pit with poison ivy, but saved vs. the ivy and instead just lost all but two HP (not that it matters, given Ferocity). Finally seeing the jinkin, the group walked into the next trap (wires made from human hair stretched across the passageway; hanging from these were fish hooks), got flustered, set fire to the hair, and then saw the jinkin escape on similarly made ropes (used as ziplines) strung across a wide chasm.

This session, F showed up and the group stood around trying to figure out how to cross said chasm (for the better part of twenty minutes; highlights include Phillip pulling out a raven from under her blouse) before F pulled out a grapple gun to swing across the chasm while holding Phillip as I played fitting music (skip to :20 if it doesn’t start there). He threw the grapple gun back to Gimli, who succeeded at swinging across, and then to Ronan, who lost his grip and fell into the water below. As Ronan was climbing out of the water, the merrow living down there grabbed his leg and pulled him back in. A short fight ensued; the only injured party was the merrow. Afterward, it took me quite a bit of time to convince Phillip (remember: obsessed with shinies) to show interest in the twenty pound bag of coins (1000 coins -- 750 silver, 250 gold) stuck beneath a boulder in the water. Finally lifting it the rock and dividing the treasure, the party moved on to the next room, which had a weird “trap” (riddle door plus hidden rust monsters). Gimli went “berserk” (full panic mode), had his axe melt before him, and fainted from fright on turn two. (F’s rapier also got rust monstered.)

You may be wondering why it took three hours to do all of that. Well, between more introductions, tangents, figuring out how to deal with each obstacle, and hilarity, we could only do so much.

The reason I project another one or two sessions is that the next trap is Minesweeper, followed by a teleportation trap, then another riddle door, and finally the loot room (which has a weird mirror, the “boss”, and a “you screwed up” encounter). Even without needing to introduce themselves, I doubt we’ll make it through any single trap in the span of an hour.

I’m stuck on the question of continued hilarity, though. See, Gimli has nothing left to fear in this dungeon besides conductivity (the Minesweeper trap is made up of lightning tiles). There isn’t anything in the dungeon that can set F aflame except (maybe) that trap, as well. Ronan’s player isn’t sure how to play up the kindergarten aspect (he’s trying admirably, but he’s clearly confused). Phillip, meanwhile, will want to try to take control of the dungeon’s final boss (a “coin dragon” -- a magical sword that telekinetically creates a dragon construct out of nearby coins and treasure), but that’ll take at least a session to get to and will require some passing of the buck. Or nickel. Whatever. Thankfully, the teleportation trap ties into the local fey (gremlins), though the gremlins didn’t make the trap (they just utilize it for shenanigans). I might be able to concoct some arbitrary suffering from them via F’s hatred of short people.

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